#and a little bit more salt and sugar than before

[symphorine]

guess who's making croissants again

[ellecdc]

Hey I have a request:

Could you do poly marauders but Sirius and reader prank James and Remus by saying she is pregnant and then she finds out she is actually pregnant and they don't believe her straight away.

You don't have to if you don't want to.

Thank you ❤️

hi sweets! so I ended up changing this a litttllllee bit simply because I wasn't comfortable writing about joking re: pregnancy [just cuz it's a sensitive topic for many]. but I hope I did the rest of the request justice! <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader who is not pranking them right now [1.7k words]

CW: pregnancy tests, reader is pregnant, everyone is surprised but generally happy about the pregnancy

You supposed you shouldn’t be entirely surprised that this is how the boys would react; it probably did seem suspicious that this would come up now. 

Now being that the four of you were in the middle of a sort of prank war. 

No, not sort of, it was a full out prank war, no holds barred. 

It had started when James and Remus convinced you and Sirius that the two of you had locked you all out of your flat, forcing Sirius (with James’ help) to have to shove you up the fire escape and crawl through the window, hauling Sirius up behind you only to find Remus sitting casually in his chair and James bursting through the front door laughing. 

“That doesn’t even make sense, you guys.” Sirius grumbled as he used the bottom of his shirt to wipe sweat from his eyes and you swept cobwebs out of your hair. “James had to work just as hard as we did to get in.” 

“No,” James countered, “I got to touch Y/N’s bum as we hoisted her up, and then got to watch your arms flex as you climbed up after her.” 

Then, as retribution, you and Sirius took their phones and changed the name of every single one of their contacts to Dennis Quaid. 

In retaliation, Remus and James taped fake spiders behind the lampshades, and one evening you’d been walking into the living room with a bowl of popcorn when Remus asked Sirius to turn the lamp on, resulting in an ear splitting screech from Sirius and a sea of popcorn littering the floor. 

Cling wrap was added to the tops of shampoo bottles before the tops were recapped, causing more than a few shower meltdowns. The sugar for tea was replaced with salt. Blow up dolls were hidden behind doors. Furniture was moved several inches to the left. Picture frames throughout your home were replaced with images of Steve Buscemi. 

It was fun, it was harmless, it was good natured. Did it result in Sirius shouting profanities after coming face to face with an inflatable clown? Sure. Did Remus spit his tea out and curse and mutter under his breath in Welsh when he had to go and make himself another cup? Yeah. Did James demand his mother prove to him that she wasn’t really Dennis Quaid by facetiming him? Absolutely, and the mischievous glint in Euphemia’s eyes was a prize in and of itself. 

So while you didn’t necessarily blame them for being suspicious of you, you were a little insulted that they thought you would take it this far.

You’d been feeling extremely lethargic lately, and when that lethargy was followed by full body aches, you had chalked it up to an oncoming period. Except that period never came.

It never came.

But the two pink lines did.

“Oh my god…” You whispered, plastic in one hand as you covered your mouth in a silent gasp with the other. “Oh my god.” You repeated, slightly louder as you all but stumbled out of the ensuite into your bedroom.

“I know it was you, Sirius!” You heard Remus shout from down the hall.

“I swear to God, I didn’t touch the remote.” Sirius laughed. 

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you.” James' voice retorted, rising in volume as he made his way down the hall towards your shared room. “Angel, do you know where Sirius hid the remote?” 

You were frozen in the middle of the room with your hand still covering your mouth as you stared down at the positive pregnancy test in your hand. 

“Angel?” James asked quietly as he moved towards you. “Are you alright?”

A breath left your lips but you found that you couldn’t bring yourself to form an intelligent response.

Your view of the test quickly included James’ socked feet in front of yours and a gentle hand on your wrist so he could see what you were holding. “Wha-” he began, though fell silent when the fact that you were holding a pregnancy test was undeniable. 

“Oh fuck, that’s a good one.” He let out with a breath, laughing as he backed away from you. “Fuckin’ hell, you almost had me there for a moment.”

“Nice try, Sirius!” He called as he exited your room, leaving you standing there with your mouth open and your heart in your stomach. 

“Nice try, what?” You heard Sirius call back as you mindlessly followed James out of the room and towards the living room; limbs working on autopilot as your brain was reduced to a steady chant of oh my god oh my god ohmygod ohmygodohmygodohmy- 

“What? Was the whole remote thing just a bit?” James chuckled as he reclaimed his spot on the love seat and Sirius’ brows furrowed where they were pointed down at the phone in his hand.

“A bit for what? And for the last time, I didn’t hide the remote.”

“So we still don’t know where the sodding remote is?” Remus grumbled as he stood from his chair and started moving all of the cushions again. 

“Come on, spill; the jig is up.” James continued. “It didn’t work.”

“James.” You tried, but your throat was so tight that his name only came out as a silent whimper. 

“What didn’t work?” Sirius asked again, finally looking up at James from his phone.

“The pregnancy test.” James replied, causing Remus to pause in his cushion wrangling to look at him in bemusement.

“Wh- what? What pregnancy test? What is he talking about?” Sirius rapid fired as he turned his gaze to you, standing from his seat but not making any moves to approach you. 

Another helpless sound fell from your lips as you shrugged at Sirius helplessly; one hand still holding the test, the other hand still covering your mouth. 

“Wait, what is going on?” Remus asked as he returned to his full height, James shaking his head in admonishment as he moved to stand beside him. 

“These two think they’re so clever, pranking us with a pregnancy test.”

Remus let out a snort, but James’ explanation seemed to restart Sirius’ brain as he rushed over to you in two large strides before pulling your hand closer to him so he could read the test.

“Pregn- babe?” He barely managed to spit out, moving his gaze from the test to your face when you didn’t answer. 

You shrugged helplessly at him again which seemed to tell him all he needed to know as he loosened his grip on your wrist, though he didn’t let go, before tracing soothing circles over your pulse point with his thumb. 

“Did you splurge on acting lessons, Sirius? You look like you’re about to pass out.” Remus chuckled, though his face fell dramatically when you finally looked over at him with tears pooling in your eyes. 

“Whoa, whoa whoa, hey, dovey. What’s going on?” He started as he moved across the room, James not far behind him.

“I-” You tried, but the next sound that left your lips was a sob.

“Oh, oh. Oh my god….oh my god, it’s not a prank at all, is it?” James whispered mostly to himself, though you shook your head at him anyways causing a few tears to finally fall from your lash line. 

“Oh my god, angel, I’m so sorry, I- I can’t believe I laughed at you. Fuck, oh my god, I-”

The next thing you knew, the test was being plucked from your hand rather gently before it was passed to James to look at again, and Remus pulled both of your hands away from your body and wrapped them around himself. 

“Sirius.” James whispered and when you turned to look, Sirius was leaning against James to get a better look at the test cradled in his hands. “Sirius, Sirius…”

Sirius let out an emotional laugh as he shoved his face into James’ shoulder, tears of his own falling down his cheeks as James wrapped one of his arms around his boyfriend and pulled him closer. 

“Dovey.” Remus hissed as he took your face in his hands. “Is…is this real? Is- are you really pregnant?” 

You nodded as you swallowed before finally finding your voice. “I…I think so. It looks like it.”

James let out a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob as he rubbed Sirius’ back roughly. 

Remus laughed wetly and pressed more than a few kisses to your face.

“Oh my god.” Sirius laughed as he wiped tears away from his face. “I’m sorry they didn’t believe you, babe. That- oh my god.” He said as he pulled you from Remus’ grasp and into his. “You’re fucking phenomenal.” 

“I haven’t even done anything yet.” You laughed into his shoulder as you watched Remus and James share a kiss behind him. 

“Are you kidding? Fuck, oh my god… I can’t believe this.” He whispered as he pulled away from you, only far enough that he could place his hands on your waist and look at your not at all rounded belly. 

“We almost missed hearing the best news of our lives over a remote.” James laughed from where he was tucked into Remus’ side.

“It’s on top of the refrigerator.” You sniffled. 

“You bastards.” Remus groaned before he and James yanked you and Sirius over to join their hug. 

“Wait.” James paused as he lifted his head to level you and Sirius with a look. “The remote was the prank, right? Not this?”

“Not this, Jamie.” You agreed quickly. “Not this.” 

He let out a relieved sigh and looked close to tears again. “You just wait until we get you back.” 

“No, you can’t prank me anymore; I’m pregnant and sensitive.” You whined, causing Sirius to bark a laugh, James to huff, and Remus to snort.

“Alright…” Remus offered as he narrowed his eyes at you playfully. “You’ve won this round.” 

“I think we might have to call it a tie, Moons.” James whispered as you felt a loving hand settle on your stomach.

[ltwilliammowett]

Cooking like a Sailor- Frisian teatime

Today it's going to be a bit Friesian again and this time the delicious treats come mainly from the North Sea islands and Halligen, where they usually originated before they floated ashore and were eaten or drunk there.

Now that we are approaching autumn with great strides, there are such delicacies. This was the time when many of the seafaring men returned home, which meant a rich harvest of specialities from foreign countries and often also the weddings were hold which were arranged the year before.

But let's start with the drink: tea punch, just the thing for the wet and cold season when it's stormy and raining outside.

Ingredients: Black tea, köm and kluntjes (brown sugar candy).

But even more important than the right ingredients are the way it is prepared and consumed. If you are in a hurry, you have no place at the tea punch table!

The tea punch is served as follows: The teapot is placed on the teapot warmer and the pre-heated bottle of Köm is placed on the table. Don't be surprised: the tea punch cups are tiny. This has nothing to do with stinginess, but with cosiness. And this is how it works: Pour tea into the cup, add a dash of köm and sugar to taste. Listen to the Kluntjes crack, stir and drink hot. Have a chat and then top up again.

This drink has existed on the islands since 1735, when a ship with tea chests stranded off Amrum at Theeknobs, although at the beginning there was no knowledge of how to prepare the tea leaves. As a result, the tea was drunk quite thinly, which was also due to the fact that tea was something special that was not always available, just like schnapps. Köm is a spirit similar to aquavit with caraway seeds. The yellow (geele) Köm is particularly common in the North Frisian region. This is a spirit, usually made with grain, which is mixed with caraway and sometimes with a hint of aniseed.

The tea punch was of course also known on ships, but here the köm was swapped for rum and the punch was used to warm up rather than for chatting. Sailors preferred to do this on land.

What do you serve with tea? Hallig Knorken or Friesenwaffeln are best. This wafer-thin delicacy has been around since the 16th century thanks to the Dutch who settled in northern Germany. They were light waffles that were made with rum and then served with plum jam and cream. Again, these delicacies were either brought by the men or had to be bartered or bought on the land, as the islands and Halligen did not have huge areas of land available for agriculture and so there was a lot of trade with the delicacies from the sea.

Ingredients for 4 people (this is the modern recipe) 4 eggs 200g sugar 250g butter 300g flour 3-4 tsp. cornflour 50ml rum 1 packet of vanilla sugar 1 pinch of salt

Bake the waffles in an iron and then serve hot with plum jam and cream.

Now we come to the highlight of every festive table - the Friesentorte. This magnificent cake is truly a precious piece. Because it requires valuable ingredients that were not always available back then and were therefore more likely to be found on festive tables. It is not known when it has been around, but probably since the 19th century, thanks to the sailors who brought many recipes with them from other countries. Like puff pastry, for example.

Today's variations also work with shortcrust pastry, but are not the original recipe

Recipe

Bake two puff pastry bases (you can use ready-made pastry) Brush one of the bases (the top) with egg yolk and sprinkle with caster sugar Leave the second (base) plain After baking, spread the base generously with plum jam Spread not too little whipped cream on the plum jam base Cut the top into 12 even pieces and then arrange the pieces on top.

The wealthier the family the more the cake would consist of several layers. Which made eating even more complicated, because how do you eat this monster without smearing cream all over your face? Well, you take the lid off, eat the inside and nibble the lid separately.

So there you have it and I wish you a delicious tea time of a different kind. Enjoy your tea and your tasty treats like real Frisians.

[bitterrfruit]

Wild Cherries

John Price x f!Reader tags/cw: modern western AU, cowboys, mean!John Price, chasing, spanking, light sadomasochism, age gap (ish), brat taming, dubcon if you squint, smut wc: 4.9k 18+ mdni

Jonathan Price owns the ranch that neighbours your family's. You've got a bad habit of hopping the fence between them, snooping and stealing, leaving little traces of your misbehaviour behind. What happens when you poke the bear?

✼ Read the full chapter on Ao3 ✼

Jonathan was almost as tall, near as wide as the doorframe he stood in. He glanced above you, expecting someone taller, before he craned his head downward to look at you, and you felt your heart flip behind your sternum.

“Well,” he huffed, voice hoarse from a day’s worth of yelling. His stare narrowed as he soaked you in, crow’s-feet creased; piercing eyes raked from your head to your feet, painfully slowly, and back up again. “Ain’t you a nice surprise.” 

His cocksure voice was rumbling and deep, it sunk under your skin and made you turn pink. You had only ever heard him shouting, heard his roars in the distance when he chastised either you or his ranchmen. Now he uttered his words so low that you could hear the gravel in his throat, it made you want to press your ear to his padded chest and feel the vibrations of his sonorous voice directly from its origin. 

You took the same time to inspect him - realising you hadn’t ever seen him up this close, close enough to smell him. He smelt of hard work and cigar smoke, salt and musk, the warmth of his mammoth body reached out and touched you as if the evening air was suddenly cold. His smoky blue t-shirt had stains of sweat between his broad pectorals and down from his neck, the cotton coated in dust - he had only just turned in from a long day of wrangling, hadn’t yet had the chance to shower or to change. 

He lifted a bronzed and furry arm to lean his elbow against the jamb of the door, so thick with well-earned muscle they threatened to tear the sleeves of his shirt with the slightest flex. You wondered if he picked up his cows with his bare arms, carried them around like they weighed no more than bales of hay. 

His cheeks were ruddy with sunburn and vigour, his firm jaw coated by a dark and barely kempt beard, specked with silvers. His expression was stern, though a glimmer of interest in his steel-blue eyes belied his severity. Heavy lids hung low by virtue of looking down at you, his lips in an analytical curl under the thick moustache that grew under his nose. 

You blinked up at him, and opened your lips to speak - but a gruff snicker from him sucked the air from your lungs before you could utter a word to greet him. 

“Brought me a gift?” He asked richly, glare stuck on you and not the sack of ruby-red jam you hung from your fingers. 

Finding yourself, you gave him a pursed smile. “Lawrence made me come and say hi.” 

“Made you, did he?” He snorted, oozing a knowing arrogance. 

“Yep,” you said, lifting the bag to present it to him. “Eve cooked up some jam.” 

You saw his temples bulge as his jaw clenched tightly, expression sinking into what looked to you like twisted disappointment. 

“Nice o’ you,” he grunted disinterestedly, paying no mind to your olive branch. After a troubled sigh, he asked; “Where’ve you been, lil’ miss Honeybee?” 

The use of your nickname made gooseflesh shiver down your spine. He could only have heard that from your siblings or their ranchmen - how often had they spoken to him? Discussed you while you weren’t there to hear it? Last you thought, they never interacted at all. Now, he seemed to mock you with it. 

But he uttered it so casually, with such a coating of sugar, that it rinsed you like praise. 

“Just working,” you replied flatly, shuffling on your feet, vaguely embarrassed to admit you had abandoned the job already. “In the city.” 

“Mh,” he hummed, giving you a placid nod. “Back for good?”

You bit back the smirk that coaxed your lips. “Maybe.” 

“I’ll have to build a taller fence, then, won’t I?” 

Unable to discern if there was any humour in the forcefulness of his tone, your tongue curled behind your teeth as you tried to find a response that wouldn’t incriminate you. 

And you failed. “I’m a good climber.” 

He didn’t quite smile, you saw his chest rise and fall with a hounded breath. 

“I bet you are.” 

an: hey y'all, as some may recognise, this is the extendo version of my old drabble 'cowboy price'. Not yet the part 3 that many of you were asking for (i'm sorry), but there will be many more parts to come, and I hope they will sate our collective hunger for horny western Price!!

Above is only a snippet, the rest is on my Ao3. love youuuu <3

[cosmicdahlias]

A Night on The Stan O’ War II

a stan and ford x reader fic

MINORS DNI

You work at a bar in a seaside town. Two attractive older men walk in and they invite you back to their boat for a night of debauchery.

warnings: threesome, oral, huge age gap (reader is in their 20’s), slapping

this is my first threesome fic. i don’t write about stan nearly as much as i do ford, but i would KILL to be eiffel towered by them. 😩 also i feel like them bickering while fucking you is incredibly in character for both of them.

You were waiting tables at the bar in the small port town you resided in. It was nothing to write home about, but it payed the bills. You were in the process of wiping down tables when two older men walked in. You could tell immediately from how alike they were that they were brothers, maybe even twins. You’d always had a thing for older men and you found both of them to be incredibly handsome. You approached their table.

“Hey there, my name’s y/n. What can I get for you two gentlemen?”

“I’ll take a whiskey, toots.” One of the men said in a gruff voice, he was very clearly eyeing you up.

“A bourbon for me, please.” The other tried to be more discreet, but he was definitely looking at you with the same lust as his brother.

As the night went on you started to find excuses to come to their table and it was obvious they didn’t mind one bit. You brought out another round of drinks, noticing when one of them went to grab his drink that he had six fingers. You shamelessly wondered what those six fingers could do, when the rougher of the two spoke.

“Hey, so uhh, we were thinkin’, we’ve seen you looking at us all night and we thought maybe you’d like to come back with one of us.”

Your heart skipped a beat, holy fuck yes. You were debating on who to choose when the perfect idea dawned on you.

“What if I want both of you?”

They exchanged glances with each other before the scholarly looking one answered.

“Only if you think you can handle it, sweetheart.”

You smirked. “Oh I’m more than capable. I get off at 12.”

The gruff one cocked a devilish smile. “Trust me, toots, it won’t be the only time you get off tonight. I’m Stan, the nerd over there is Ford, my brother.”

-

The brothers waited outside for you to finish your shift. You locked the door behind you.

“Okay, so where’s your guys’ place?” You asked.

“We have a boat moored nearby.” Ford answered.

You walked the short distance to the docks, arriving a decently sized boat, the name “Stan O’ War II” inscribed on the hull. They helped you onto the boat and led you down to the cabin below deck, you sat yourself on one of the beds. You were a little nervous, you’d never had a threesome before.

“So… how do we want to start thi-“

Stan interrupted you with a kiss rougher than his voice, you fell back on the bed with him on top of you, his hands immediately grabbing at your breasts.

Ford rolled his eyes. “Way to be a gentleman, Stanley.”

“Come on, you expect me to just stand there when they look like that? With that skirt and those tits? Now are you gonna watch or are you gonna get in on this?” Stan said between kisses.

“I was getting to that, move over.”

Stan sat you up and shifted to your left, his lips never leaving you. Ford traced circles on your inner thighs, you shuddered at the sensation.

“So what’s someone as pretty and young as you doing wanting to have sex with two old men?” Ford inquired.

“What can I say? I have an affinity for salt and pepper hair. I find men get better with age, more experience.” You said, momentarily breaking away from Stan to grab Ford by the sweater and pull him into a kiss.

Stan laughed. “Heh, that might be true for me, sugar, but you would NOT believe what poindexter over here has been up to for the past 30 years. And I’ll tell you there definitely wasn’t any hot young tail to go around.”

Ford gave an audible groan of annoyance and started to take off your clothes. He pulled your top over your head and unhooked your bra, sliding the straps off your arms.

He took a shuddering breath. “My stars, your breasts are gorgeous.”

“Tell me about it.” Stan said, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and biting it, his stubble tickling your breast.

Ford returned his attention to getting your clothes off of you. He pulled off your skirt and followed with your panties, sliding them down your legs, he gave a small gasp at your wetness.

“Good god sweetheart, you’re so wet. You really wanted us, didn’t you?”

Stan smirked against your breast. “Of course they do! You think they’d be able to resist the charms of us two silver foxes?”

You nodded. “When you guys walked into the bar tonight I secretly hoped you’d be into something like this.”

“We seriously didn’t think you’d reciprocate. It was a complete shot in the dark, but look at you, so eager for the both of us.” Ford said as he sank to his knees in front of you.

“Hey, you might’ve thought that, but I knew I’d have them swooning within the hour. No one can resist Stan the man.” He said, flexing his arms.

Ford rolled his eyes and lifted your legs, draping them over his shoulders. He circled your clit with his thumb for a moment before replacing it with his mouth and tongue. You tangled your fingers in his hair as Stan returned his lips to yours, tongue darting down your throat, hands caressing your breasts.

Ford lapped at your clit, taking in your taste and scent.

“God, you taste so good.” He said, moaning against you.

Stan laughed. “Damn, sixer. I didn’t know you enjoyed eating pussy this much.”

Ford scoffed. “I happen to find eliciting an orgasm from another person to be incredibly rewarding, their pleasure is mine.”

“Good god, you’re so pussy whipped.”

“I’m trying to concentrate here, Stanley.”

You felt your orgasm build, you tightened your grip on Ford’s hair.

“Good girl, that’s it, you’re almost there.” Ford cooed.

You panted, the sensation of being eaten out by Ford and felt up by Stan was overwhelming. You bucked your hips somewhat involuntarily against Ford’s tongue.

You reeled your head back cumming all over Ford’s mouth. He didn’t stop, slipping two fingers inside you and curling them at your g-spot, he wanted to make you cum again. It didn’t take long to coax it out of you, you gripped his hair so hard you almost ripped out a few strands, cumming on his face for a second time.

You fell back on the bed, you were practically floating. You panted breathlessly, attempting to steady yourself. Ford stood up, leaned over and kissed you, you could taste yourself on him. You sat up and looked at both of them, cracking a smirk.

“Both of you, strip for me.” You said in your best sultry voice.

“Of course, princess.” Ford said.

Stan grinned. “Get ready for the show, sweet cheeks.”

They began removing their clothes. Stan gave you the full stripper experience, running his hands seductively over his body. You wondered to yourself if he’d ever done this before, it sure seemed like he had.

You watched them hungrily as they revealed their figures. Stan was paunchy and soft whereas Ford was more built with a slight muscle definition, yet both of them were incredibly hot to you. You stared at them and couldn’t help but notice the multiple scars that littered Ford’s body. You had no idea what kind of hell he must’ve been through, but it had clearly been a lot.

As they pulled off their boxers you took in the absolutely glorious sight. They were both incredibly hung, over 8 inches. Their cocks were nearly identical, but Stan’s had significantly more girth. Stan caught you obviously staring.

“Like what ya see, angel?” Big, isn’t it?” He said, giving himself a few strokes.

“Bragging is unbecoming of a gentleman, Stanley.” Ford chastised.

“Hey, I know what I got, so I’m gonna flaunt it. Now, on all fours, toots.” Stan commanded, getting on the bed.

He came up behind you and angled his cock against you and unceremoniously shoved himself inside you, one hand on your shoulder, the other on your waist. He was so thick it felt like you were being ripped in half, you cried out in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

“Oh shit, you alright?” Stan asked.

“Yeah I’m okay, it just hurts so good.”

He cocked a smile. “Damn, you like it rough don’t you?”

Ford got on his knees in front of you, tilting your chin up and stroking your lips with his thumb.

“Your lips are so soft, sweetheart.”

He slowly slid his cock in your mouth and began gingerly fucking your mouth, trying very hard to not make you choke.

“You ever done anything like this before, sugar? Gotten fucked by two men at the same time?” Stan said as he started pumping himself inside you.

You shook your head with Ford’s cock in your mouth.

“No? What do you think, huh? You like getting fucked by men old enough to be your dad?” Stan asked.

You nodded.

He grabbed your ass. “Good girl, so fucking dirty.”

Ford ran his fingers through your hair. “That’s right, you’re such a good girl, taking the both of us at the same time.”

Stan thrusted aggressively, each one forcing his brother’s cock deeper down your throat, you gagged around him.

“Easy, Stanley, you’ll make them choke.” Ford warned.

“Sorry, can’t help it, they feel too good. So- nngh- fucking tight.” Stan grunted.

You started to move your hips back against him.

“Yeah, that’s right, good girl. Fuck yourself on my cock.” Stan groaned.

He gave an incredibly hard slap to your ass, you yelped with Ford still in your mouth, a welt began to form.

“Hey, watch it! You don’t know if they like that sort of thing.” Ford scolded.

Stan rolled his eyes. “Oh come off it, sixer. They can speak for themself.”

You pulled yourself off of Ford’s cock just long enough to give a response before taking him back in your mouth.

“It’s okay, I love it.”

“See? They ‘love it’.” Stan said with a smirk.

“Consent is still important, Stanley.” Ford huffed.

Stan picked up his pace, god he loved this, using you like his own personal fucktoy.

“Jesus, that tight little pussy is gonna make me cum.” Stan groaned.

He gripped your hips and got a few good thrusts in before pulling out and cumming all over your back with a loud moan. Ford pulled himself out of your mouth, he leaned over and whispered in your ear while stroking your cheek.

“You did so well for us, sweetheart.”

Your legs shook, exhausted from being on your hands and knees for so long. You collapsed on your stomach.

Stan breathed raggedly trying to collect himself, then got off the bed and started putting his boxers back on.

“Alright, I’m gonna go out for a smoke, I’ll leave you two crazy kids alone. Have fun.” Stan said with a wink.

He started to head out, wiping sweat from his brow.

“Geez, you got me schvitzing here, toots.” He closed the cabin door behind him.

Ford turned his attention back to you. “Let me get you cleaned up.”

He got up and retrieved a towel and began wiping his brother’s cum off of your back.

“There we go.” He said softly.

He picked you up and laid you down with your head on the pillow and got on top of you. He tilted your chin up and kissed you deeply.

“I know you enjoyed being ravaged by Stanley, but now it’s my turn and I want to make love to you. Is that okay with you, princess?”

You nodded fervently.

“Good girl. I know my cock isn’t as thick as his, but still if it hurts I want you to bite down on my shoulder. Understand?”

“Yes, daddy.”

He blushed. “Daddy? How come didn’t call Stanley that?”

“You have stronger daddy vibes.”

He chuckled. “I’m very flattered, princess.”

He slowly started to insert himself making sure to give you time to adjust while kissing you, you moaned into his mouth.

He reached the hilt of his shaft. “Does that feel good? I’m not hurting you am I?”

You shook your head. “You feel so good, daddy.”

He chuckled. “Keep calling me that and I won’t be able to last very long.”

He began moving his hips, finding a steady, gentle rhythm.

“God, now I see what Stanley was talking about, you feel incredible. So warm and tight.”

He and Stan might’ve been twins, but the ways they fucked you were as different as night and day. Where Stan was rough and fast, Ford was so much more slow and passionate.

“From the moment I saw you I knew I would have to have you. The way your thighs looked in that skirt and the way your breasts bounced as you walked, god you looked so tantalizing. When you would bend over the table to serve us our drinks it got me so hard immediately. If you hadn’t come back with us I would’ve had to spend the rest of my night stroking my cock while picturing you.”

“I’m not gonna lie, Ford, I was bending over on purpose. I knew what I was doing. Knowing I was turning on two older gentlemen was so hot. I had to steal myself away to the bathroom and touch myself because of how worked up I got with you looking at me like that. You and your brother were practically fucking me with your eyes.”

“We wanted you so bad, it was all we could talk about.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, lacing your fingers in his hair again. He buried his nose into the dip of your collarbone. You moved yourself back against him, drawing out a moan.

“I’m so close, baby girl. Can I cum in you?” He panted.

“Please, daddy.” You begged.

Your words made him throb. “Good girl.”

He slightly increased his pace, still making sure to be gentle. He came deep inside you, coating your walls in a thick layer of cum.

“Stars, you are… amazing.” He said, completely breathless.

You kissed him as he pulled out, lying next to you. You nuzzled into Ford’s chest, he stroked your back, the gentle waves of the ocean rocking the boat.

“You know, we’re going to be here for a full week. If you want, we could do this every night. How does that sound, princess?”

“Like a dream, handsome.”

He kissed you. “Good, I’m very happy to hear that.”

Silence hung in the air for a moment or two before you broke it.

“Can I ask you a question, Ford?”

“Anything, sweetheart.”

“What happened to you? You have so many scars.”

He gave a small smile. “It’s… a long story, but let’s just say I went through quite the adventure in the last 30 years.”

A few minutes later Stan walked through the door. “Got room for one more?”

You smiled. “The more the merrier.”

Stan climbed into the bed, spooning you.

He chuckled to himself. “See, sixer? I told you we’d find babes.”

[musicalsiphonophore]

FUN FACT TIME !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So, when you eat carbohydrates that cannot easily be broken down (by hydrolysis*) into glucose molecules, they don't get released into glucose molecules in your small intestine as would, for example, simpler sugars like sucrose that is only two monosaccharides (single sugars) long.

This means that these carbohydrates reach your large intestine not fully broken down. So, they tend to be fermented by gut bacteria instead. This has the lovely side effect of making one fart, as well as the genuinely lovely side effect of causing gut bacteria to (A) generally be healthier and (B) produce butanoic acid salts (known as butyrates), which are really important to regulate metabolism, and also produces SCFAs and idk what they do but Wikipedia makes it sound like they're good.

This is also why fibres (which is a broad term including things like cellulose*, so non-starch carbohydrates that aren't as easy to hydrolyse) are good for you - because they are a little bit tougher to digest, so they reach your large intestine where they are fermented by gut bacteria rather than simply instantly getting broken down into glucose the second they encounter a teeny bit of amylase.

But it gets even more interesting than that!

Starches that cannot be easily broken down are called Resistant Starches, right? Resistant starches include amylose. Amylose is a long straight chain of glucose molecules, which contrasts with the other type of starch, amylopectin, which has branches.

Because of its branching, amylopectin has a high surface area to volume ratio, so it is easier to digest. Amylose has a lower surface area to volume ratio so it is roughage and is trickier to digest, so it reaches the large intestine.

Also, in plant cells, starch is often stored in granules. What do we do when we cook food? The heat causes granules to expand, start leaking, or even burst completely, thus making our food easier to digest. It is harder to digest if you have to eat through the granule first before you can even START to break down the polymers. Cooking means that often times, the starch is Literally Right There, so it makes the food much easier to digest.

Anyway, stuff that is Really easy to digest, you get the sugar all at once, so it goes into storage or you get super energetic but it doesn't give you a good lasting amount of energy like slower-releasing starches do.

This all explains... like everything that people say about how you need to eat healthy. (Except for the stupid things like that you need to cut carbs.) It explains why fibre helps digestion, why more complex carbohydrates are often healthier than simple ones like sucrose, WHY WE COOK FOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IT'S SO COOL

Explanations for those who are confused by terminology under the cut:

*cellulose is found in cell walls and is a carbohydrate that is really tough since it forms a lattice shape. It is the stuff that makes wood so strong, and also forms part of lignin AKA tree bark.

*Basically, carbohydrates are made of single sugars that bond together by condensation. Condensation reactions are when on the end of two monomers, there is an OH group and an OH group, and then one of the OHs gets removed and another H+ off of the other OH is removed. This means both monomers are then sharing the one oxygen left, and there is a water molecule produced hence the name. Hydrolysis is the inverse of this - when a water molecule is split into OH- and H+ and then it breaks apart a polymer.

[yunniestars]

"maybe this time, love won't end."

. . . ACT IV. "Oh No, I'm Falling In Love." ʚɞ pairing: kinich x gn!reader ʚɞ cw: kind of short sorry, mostly fluff hehe, reader is shit at cooking

"sorry..." you dry his hair off using a towel as you apologize. "to be fair, it started to rain heavily, too. so it would've saved you from being sick."

"it's fine," kinich responds as he mesmerize over how your hands knead his hair with tender. "i would've said yes either way. but you really didn't had to headlock me like that," he frowns which erupts a giggle from you.

"i literally never seen you make that face. i should do it more often." he scoffs at your suggestion.

even with such childish banter, kinich feels so much warmth from what was happening at the moment. the loud and thunderous rain contrasted the comforting laughter from the both of you. it reminded him of how you'd tend to his wounds when he came home from a commission that made him end up in a bunch of bruises.

this very moment felt like one of them, however he knew it wasn't the same.

the love and affection he felt, though, remained.

suddenly, he felt something caress his hair. and it wasn't a towel.

"hmm?" kinich feels your hand on top of his hair, which surprised him. "what are you doing?"

"feeling your hair. it's so soft," you tell him as you bask into the softness of the strands. "seriously, how do you have better hair than me? it's so annoying," you sounded a pout which made him chuckle.

"maybe it's because you're the one taking care of it."

୨୧

time ticks down and before the both of you knew it, the hour of supper had arrived.

kinich would expect that it would've been domestic, cozy and full of laughter. he thought that it'd be a simple moment of peace with shared fondness.

boy he was so wrong. because apparently alongside your memories, your amnesia also caused you to forget your ability how to cook -- or more like, you have no idea how to measure things and the portions you pour in the dish ends up altering the taste completely.

"oh my archons- i said SALT."

"THAT'S SALT YOU DUM-DUM."

"look at the label closely, and it says 'sugar'."

"oh."

it was rare for kinich to get verbally upset, but this very moment had him wanting to throw punches at you and toss you from the very top of tectipac peak. he tries his very best to not show his frustration and be patient but oh goodness gracious of all archons you were stubborn.

"kinich! how much soup do i pour in?" you ask but even though you did, your hand had a mind of its own and poured a lot of soup on the bowl which could only take half of the amount you poured on, which ultimately led you to dropping the bowl and a loud yelp from you.

kinich immediately stopped what he was doing and immediately ran up to you, caressing your burnt hand while bringing you to a place away from the shards of glass.

"are you okay? how bad does it hurt?" he asks while checking for any bruises.

"a little..." you responded while feeling a bit faint from the altercation that just happened. kinich sighed and carried you to your couch, gently laying you on top of there.

"stay," he instructs while he goes off to grab your first-aid kit. you were confused on how he already knew where it was placed, but perhaps it's due to the amount of times he crashed in your place.

besides everything, though, you felt your heart thump at how he'd take such good care of you. even though you were stupid to pour an unreasonable amount of soup in the cup, he never insulted you and just immediately came to your aid. it felt nice, considering how you'd always get called out for being clumsy when you still lived with your family.

it wasn't just that, though. the way he'd gently hold you felt like you just fit right in his arms. is it platonic to say that being your friend's arms felt like home? because that's exactly how you felt.

you were used to how boyfriend-material kinich would be but goddamn it still made your heart skip a beat each time.

then again, he said it's how he treated his friends in general, so did you really have any right to feel like that?

after a time of thinking, he soon comes back with the first-aid kit in his hands and kneels in front of you, grabbing that injured hand onto his immediately to treat it.

"so reckless... you just do whatever you want, huh?" he huffs while applying ointment on your burn.

"i'm sorry," you apologize, feeling a lot of guilt while refusing to look at him.

"for?"

"for being clumsy and... not being a good host."

"host?" kinich raises a brow and remembers the main reason how he winded up in your abode. "ah, you don't need to apologize for any of that." "but-"

"but what? no matter the amount of apologizes you utter to me, you'll still do the same thing ever again, and i would be a fool to repeatedly tell you that it's 'okay'," he chuckles lightly and touches your bandaged hand. "i treasure you a lot, so i'm willing to put up with your antics."

ah fuck.

you feel yourself burning up at your words, while also feeling tears well up in your eyes. "i mean that much to you?"

"of course."

you smile and look at him with a gaze you'd only ever show to him. "well, i feel the same."

୨୧

a few hours after eating and cleaning up, the rain hasn't still gone away which led up to the reason why he's staying at your home overnight for the time-being.

"i'm going to sleep at the couch," kinich says, about to tell you good night until you beat him to it.

"no, you're sleeping in my bed," you refute. "you're the guest, i should be the one sleeping on the couch."

kinich sighs and crosses his arms. "well, looks like this is another argument i can't wait, so how about this -- we share a bed."

the idea made you blush. even though kinich looked nonchalant on the surface, deep down he was pulling his own hair for saying such crass things. now he felt kind of like some creep for saying it.

"sorry, i shouldn't have said anything," he apologizes, wanting to break the awkward tension. but you just shake your head and drag him on your bed.

"it's fine. we can share," you fiddle your hands together.

oh. well... that definitely surprised him.

"what? are you sure? i just suggested it because i didn't want you to sleep on the couch and i know you're going to force me to sleep on your bed so..." he trails off and you just put your index finger on his lip, which immediately shuts him up.

"if i say we can share, then we can. okay?" you huff and place your finger back down, leaving him to no choice (even though he really liked the idea). "

and so, you two end up sharing the same comforter. surprisingly, kinich ended up falling asleep real fast. after all, you did notice how exhausted he looked even before the two of you got soaked by the cold rain.

you smile and stop any urges to go and caress his face. you notice his long lashes, the marking on his neck, and of course your favorite part of him, how soft his hair looked. even while sleeping, he looked so undoubtedly beautiful that you'd think about what it'd be like if you kissed him- woah there.

kisses?

beautiful?

you notice how you used such words towards him, ones that only couples would ever refer to each other. but can you blame yourself? he was so full of love, giving you attention when you barely ask for it, doing things that you'd only let him do to you.

the more you think of it, more the realization finally dawns upon you...

you were in love.

୨୧ act iii | act v ୨୧ masterlist

♡ tags: @lvvcian @sunsethw4 @wutap @gasoline-eater @ellieloverrr @romyoia @lunavixia @hipsdofangirl @3lectraheart @keiiqq @fantasyhopperhea @idontevenknow129 @kimura-uzuri

a/n: finally!! ive been wanting to finish this chapter ive had the idea since act 3 but i am so sorry for not updating a lot as of late!! :( ive been preparing for lots and lots of projects + exams r coming up. not sure if i can keep on updating consistently, but most likely when exams end and also during our club week hehe. thank u so much for being patient :')

[ficmenrhot]

Hiiii idk if u take requests but if you do could you write a smut with Finnick Odair where basically finnick is eating her out and she’s tooooo overstimulated and reader pulls his hair a little to hard, in which Finnock replies with

“Yank my hair like that again I won’t touch you for a month.”

PLEASEEEE

Self-Control

Pairing: Dom Finnick x whiny fem reader

Notes: oral (fem receiving), punishment, hair pulling, slight degradation, overstimulation, fingering, edging

A/N: OKIE DOKIE so actually, in my head, Finnick loves it when you tuck on his hair but for you I’ll change it a bit, also I slightly altered the idea of the request ;)

Minors DNI

—————————————

Your shared bedroom is set alight by the pearlescent moonlight shining in through curtain gaps, a light scent of sea salt and musk whiffing through the air from Finnick. The scent is intoxicating; you’re sprawled out on the ruffled sheets with Finnick buried between your legs, your loud moans echoing through the room.

The two of you had attended a party earlier on, and from the lack of attention you received from Finnick who was too busy socialising with the other victors, you decided to tease him in hope that he would finally satiate the immense desire you felt. You tried to pull many tricks-softly running your fingers down his arms, tugging on his sleeves needily, and batting your eyelashes at him knowing he can’t resist.

“Honey, I know that you’re needy tonight, I’ll give you what you want when we go home, I promise,” he’d say at your attempts to break him, but you’d whine with a slight pout, unable to wait any longer.

Finnick’s last straw was at dinner when you decided to run your hand up and down his thigh underneath the table cloth, circling that sweet spot of his through the fabric of his pants. Finnick is a patient man, and you knew you were in deep trouble when he sent a stern look your way instead of his usual sweet ‘not now’.

This is how you end up with your legs wrapped around Finnick’s head, hands tugging on his golden blonde hair, as he continues with his assault on your clit. His tongue skilfully flicks and draws patterns on your swollen clit as he fucks you with two thick fingers at a torturously fast pace. You feel your climax building up for the fourth time tonight but is denied that sweet release as Finnick purposely pulls his fingers out before plunging them in your heat again.

You mewl as your climax is ripped away from you once more, feeling so overly stimulated. Your face is tearstained, whining as you accidentally pull at Finnick’s hair a little too hard, making him groan whilst his mouth is still attached to your clit, sending vibrations through your body.

“Careful now, sugar,” Finnick warns as his teeth gently grazes your clit as a warning, making you whimper quietly.

“I-It’s too much…I said I’m sorry Finn, I’ll never do it again…please let me come” you beg, sounding so desperate as you attempt to grind on his face, earning some friction.

“Please-”

Finnick lifts his head up from your throbbing heat, scoffing as he tilts his head at you, his fingers continuing to thrust deeply as he stares you in the eye with a mocking look.

“I expected better than you honey, but you acted like a desperate whore. I told you I would give you what you wanted when we came back home but you were just such an impatient little slut, weren’t you?”

Finnick sneers, his pearly white canines flashing as he does so, “you really can’t go an hour without riding my fingers huh?”

His head dives back between your legs, angling his fingers, and he finds that sweet spot once more which makes your back arch in pleasure. He adds his tongue once more, circling and tracing figure eights on your clit which makes your body shudder and mouth agape.

Finnick has been edging you for nearly an hour, denying you releases after releases, and the overstimulation you feel is almost painful. Every single touch drives you insane and the sensitive you feel is certainly not helping.

Finnick suddenly switches to sucking your clit instead, and you have to use every strength in your body to stop yourself from coming right then or else the punishment would be worse. You forget about Finnick’s warning from earlier, and you accidentally yank at his hair, a raspy growl falling from his lips.

“What did I tell you huh, sugar?”

“Mark my words honey, tug at my hair like that again and I won’t let you come for a month, let alone touch you. It’s time to teach you some self control.”

You whimper at his words. If only you had listened.

———————————

A/N: to whoever requested this, I hope it lived up to your expectations. I did kind of change it a bit so I’m sorry if it’s different to what you wanted 😭 once again, reblog and likes are appreciated, a follow would be great :)

[ticklishraspberries]

Prank War (Derek/Spencer)

Summary: After a prank, Derek decides he's had enough of Spencer's shenanigans. (For the first of @august-anon's weekly Tickletober prompts!! I hope you all enjoy, thanks to everyone who voted for this ship!!)

With such a serious job, it was no wonder that the Behavioral Analysis Unit often found themselves engaging in childlike behavior to lighten the mood around the office.

It was evident in the way Peneleope dug up their old school photos and showed them off to the others, teasing comments ready on their tongues about Emily’s goth fashion. Or, the way Emily could be found braiding JJ’s hair on the jet, or how everyone still whined and pouted when Spencer beat them at various board and card games.

However, Derek and Spencer got up to much more ridiculous things than that. It had started small, with stolen pens and rearranged desks. Then, Derek tied Spencer’s shoelaces together while he was asleep on the jet, resulting in a very ungraceful face-plant. Spencer retaliated by replacing the sugar in the bullpen with salt, which ended up inconveniencing more than just Morgan, which he only felt a little bit bad about.

The tension between the two agents was high, always having a suspicious look on their faces when they were together. Their interactions were laced with mischief, an underlying buzz of anticipation.

Derek quickly got fed up with their little game, because Spencer’s pranks were becoming increasingly irritating, and he refused to admit defeat over salty coffee and stolen belongings. It was so ridiculous, so childish—and yet, he didn’t want to give up, to concede that Reid had won. Fighting dirty seemed like a more appealing option.

No one seemed alarmed when Derek essentially pounced on Spencer one evening, the jet having been otherwise quiet. Spencer had been engrossed in a novel, and let out a startled shriek when he was attacked, and Morgan hadn’t even moved his fingers before Spencer started babbling.

“Wait, wait, Morgan, we can talk about this! I’m sorry!” he cried, trying desperately to push the other man away, but it was no use.

Derek just chuckled, easily dodging Spencer’s flailing limbs. “Oh, it’s way too late for apologies, pretty boy,” he said, hands finding the doctor’s sides and squeezing.

Rossi snorted to himself, Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose, but there was a fond smile fighting its way onto his face. Emily gave a fond roll of her eyes, and JJ pulled out her phone, snapping some photos to send to Penelope.

The case they’d been working on had ended happily, as happily as it could have. There had already been a light, positive vibe in the air that evening, and it was easy to fall into silliness. People would probably expect that the worst cases led to them needing to be cheered up, but those things were…Well, the things that they worked with were impossible to “cheer up” from. Those rough cases, those were the ones that left everyone silent, trying to lose themselves in music or books. A hug was sometimes welcome, but laughter…Laughter needed to wait until the dust had settled.

But the case had ended well, and so, Spencer’s high-pitched giggling was a welcome sound.

“Morgan, please,” he gasped. Derek’s fingers had found a sweet spot just at the bottom of his ribs, and he wouldn’t stop tweaking it. “I’ll do whatever you want, please!”

“Hmm…” Derek said. “What if all I want is my revenge?”

Spencer whimpered before dissolving into laughter again as Derek switched to spidering over his belly. “I’ll do all your paperwork for a week!”

“Make it a month.”

“I’ll pretend I’m not hearing this,” Hotch said. The smile had finally broken through his defenses.

Derek chuckled, JJ snapped another photo, and Spencer curled desperately into a ball to escape his touch. With the promise of that month of paperwork, Derek seemed willing to concede. He just had one more requirement for his mercy.

“And, you gotta stop with this prank stuff, alright?” Derek said, giving him a couple quick pokes.

Spencer giggled and batted his hands away. “Yes, yes, alright!”

And with that, he went back to his seat, a smug smile on his face.

Spencer, pink in the face, straightened his tie and fixed his hair, before resuming the book he’d been reading. Conversation resumed as normal, the flight continued without incident.

The ridiculousness had ended, but it would likely return soon. If not in the form of a prank war or tickle fight, it would be a night of karaoke at a bar, or watching baby animal videos on Garcia’s computer. With a job like theirs, the moments of laughter were necessary. It kept them all afloat, alive. They always managed to find some light at the end of the tunnel.

[specialagentlokitty]

Tony Stark x reader - special skill

Ok so we know Tony (marvel) is an arrogant a-hole but what if instead of marrying Pepper he dates during age of Ultron someone who's a little younger (he's 38 maybe she's 30ish- if your uncomfortable writing that age gap you can make her whatever age you want) but she's like really sweet and nice to everyone and Tony throws a party and some guy keeps bothering her so the Avengers- specificly Steve is like "your gonna let him do that" but Tony is like 🤷🏽‍♀️yeah the points as reader makes the guy bothering her turn red as a tomato out of embaressment and he just speed walks off... - @azeal-peal 💜

Tony had lost sight of you a while ago, while you had entered the party with him, the moment you saw Natasha and Clint you had gravitated towards them.

He wasn’t worried about you, being with those two he knew that you were more than safe, but as always he had JARVIS watching over you as well.

You weren’t one to wonder away from too long, so you finally made your way back over to him, lifting his arm up so you could stand under it and tuck yourself into his side.

“What’s up sweet cheeks?” He asked.

You grinned a little at him.

“I missed you, and Clint is weird.”

Tony chuckled a little bit, handing you the drink in his hand, letting you have his drink while he got himself another.

“Tell me something I don’t know, like are you having fun? Do you want to stay? Go?”

You took a sip of the drink, coughing a little at the taste before handing it back.

“No, I’ll stay. It’s nice having everybody in one room for once.”

He chuckled, setting the glass down on the counter, order you a different drink.

“You’re only saying that because you don’t have to clean up after.”

You grinned at him again, turning around so you could look at him.

Tony placed a hand on your hip, smirking a little at you.

“So if I asked you to dance what would you say?”

“Oh I don’t know about that, you’re not really my type stark.”

He snorted a little.

“Alright sassy, I see how it is, two can play this game, I’ll just have to forget that you like you’re coffee with sugar in the mornings, maybe put a bit of salt in there.”

You gasped a little in fake betrayal.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Want to bet on that hotshot?”

You huffed, crossing your arm.

“I’ll forget where I’ve put your helmet.”

“I’ve got more, I’ll forget that you like when I pick you up from work.”

“I’ll forget that you told me not to post those embarrassing pictures of you posing in front of the bathroom mirror shirtless.”

This time Tony gasped, quickly looking around.

“Jarvis said he deleted them!” He whisper yelled.

“I printed them out, check mate bitch.”

You leant up, giving him a gentle kiss as you pulled away with a bright smile.

“I love you really, I wouldn’t do that.”

He chuckled, leaning down to capture you in a kiss again, then kissed your forehead.

“Love you too.”

You heard your name being called, so you kissed him once more before jogging away to go see what your friends wanted.

Eventually Tony made his way to the other avengers, all of them sitting around a table just talking away.

“Stark someone’s hitting on (Y/N). Are you going to let him do that?” Steve said.

“Huh?”

Tony tilted his head backwards, then turned slightly so he could see you better while keeping an eye on the others as well.

“Aren’t you going to go stop him?” Thor asked.

Tony gave a half shrug.

“Nah, she’s fine.”

“Man I wouldn’t be taking that, you should really put a stop to it.” Clint said.

“Seems like he’s bothering her, I’ll go help.” Natasha sighed.

Tony held up his hand.

“No, no, just wait, trust me.”

The watched for another minute, and the man that you were talking to quickly walked away with his head down and you were grinning from ear to ear.

You locked eyes with Tony and he laughed, holding his hand out to you.

You let him pull you down on to the couch to sit beside him.

“(Y/N) has a knack for embarrassing people.” He beamed.

They all made a noise of understanding, finally realising why Tony never actually went to go help you

[yawntutsyip]

𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓 ─ when you bake something for them and it turns out horrible. (yuji, megumi, gojo)

warnings: none that I know of // SHITTY WRITING

𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈:

When Yuji got home he was greeted by the smell of…well something was cooking.

“Babe, I'm home!” He announces and walks to the kitchen after taking his shoes off to see you standing there with a proud smile on your face and a plate of cookies in front of you.

“I made cookies for you! Try some!”

“Wow! Thank you baby” Yuji says excitedly and gives you a peck on the cheek before grabbing a cookie and taking a big bite, all excitement washed away.

Yuji chews waiting for the delicious sweetness to hit but it never does, all he got was immediate salt so he slows down his chewing and looks back at you and begins to feel bad.

You looked so proud standing there waiting for him to finish, you worked hard making these for him, how could he break your little heart. He just couldn’t.

“Mmm!” Yuji hums out with a forced smile as he swallows the horrid food. 

“I love my significant other I love my significant other  I love my significant other I love my significant other-” he repeats in his head and goes in for another bite, hands shaking, taste buds screaming.

‘WHY WAS IT SPICY? AND SALTY?’

“These are so good-” He begins but his body betrays him and causes him to gag, nearly spitting it back up.

“Yu? Is everything alright?” You say worried as you watch your boyfriend fight against throwing up.

“Y..ye..yeah baby, totally great! These cookies! Hahahaha so….gag so good!” 

Concern growing on you, you reach and grab one of the cookies to taste for yourself and ask the same question in your head.

‘WHERE DID THE SPICE AND SALT COME FROM?!’

Immediately you spit the food out in a napkin you quickly grab and shout at Yuji “SPIT IT OUT BABE!….DON’T KEEP EATING IT?!”

“No really babe it's not that bad!” He argues while trying to eat more but before he could you force it out of his mouth and quickly sweep all them away straight into the garbage and make him rinse his mouth in the sink.

“Why did you keep eating it?!?”

“You worked so hard..” He pouts at you.

𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈:

Megumi is a bit more straight forward than the others unfortunately. 

You and Megumi were chilling at your house, he was working on some homework while you were jamming in the kitchen attempting to make a chocolate cake with the ingredients you had at your house, some ingredients missing but you didn’t care.

“GUMI BEAR!” You scream for him. “I told you not to call me that, it's embarrassing…” He grumbles and appears behind you in a second, looking over your shoulder at the supposed cake you made. 

His face says it all, with his eyebrows furrowed with a sour look on his face. “I made a cake! I know it doesn’t look the prettiest…I forgot to let it cool off before I put the frosting on and it crumbled but I'm sure it tasted good…”

You grab some on a fork and place it in front of Megumi’s face so that he could taste it.

He shakes his head no at first but as you keep pestering him and he finally stops grumbling and takes the tiniest bite. “Yep it's good”

“You didn’t even eat it! You just tasted the fork! Come on, just try it”

With more groans and mumbles coming from him and more pestering coming from you, you finally get him to take a full bite of the cake you made.

You feed it to him and watch as he chews only once and quickly spits it out in an instant.

“That was disgusting.” He tells you but instantly regrets it as he watches the smile fall off your face and turn into a frown.

“...Sorry babe…” 

After you taste it for yourself you agree that he was not exaggerating because you had the same reaction when you got a crunch in your bite that was not supposed to be there. “Oh yeah what was not good…”

Megumi pulls you into his embrace while giving a light peck to your temple. “How about we make another one but together?”

WHILE THE TWO OF YOU ARE MAKING IT: “hand me the sugar please” “…babe did you use this earlier?” “yeah why?” “this is salt. You used salt instead of sugar.”

“OHHHHHHH well they look similar you can’t blame me…” You shrug sheepishly and go to crack the eggs but Megumi stops you.

“How about…I do the eggs…you can stir it”

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎:

Gojo was finally done with the last minute mission that he got sent and was now on his way back to his lovely significant other who was waiting at his house so patiently.

“ANGEL CAKES I'M HOME~ did you miss me?” he screams as he walks in the front door expecting to be greeted immediately with you at the door but you aren't there.

With a big frown on his face he walks further in the house to which then he hears you calling him from the kitchen. “In here my love! I got a tasty surprise for you!”

Books it to the kitchen with a cheeky smile on his face, once he sees you he’s slightly disappointed the surprise wasn't you on the counter, but a plate of cookies instead, a man could dream.

“I made you cookies! Tadaaaaa!” You tell him while shoving the plate in front of him and greeting him with a kiss.

In your guy's relationship Gojo does the cooking and baking. From knowing you since you both were in diapers, he has had previous experiences with you and your cooking to know whatever you made was about to taste like an absolute abomination. 

“NOW! Before you say anything, I know I’m not the best at cooking but this time I followed the recipe step by step! So they should taste good…how hard could making simple cookies be? Taste them!”

Gojo hesitates but seeing you look so proud of yourself made him let his guard down. “Alrighty, hand one over then lets see” He gives in and takes the cookie you handed him, taking a bite before the horrid familiar taste hits his tongue. He quickly makes a gesture that he needs something to drink with a smile and when you turn your back to him he quickly opens the garbage with his foot and spits out while chucking the cookie in after, if you can even call it that.

You turn back around and hand him a glass of water. “Woah! You finished it already?! Was it good?” You grin at him while clapping your hands.

The man felt bad that even when following a simple recipe you had no talent when it came to baking, “Very good! I ate a lot of kikufuku on the way here so i'm full but i’ll eat some later cutie”

Later that night, when he made sure you were deep asleep he throws them all away and quickly stuffs other things to hide his crime.

Next morning: “Toru? What happened to all the cookies I made last night?” “I got so hungry in the middle of the night and they were so good that I ate them all! Sorry angel!”

“Oh?! Okay I’ll just make more then! Look I’m improving-“

“NO!…no more cookies, save your baking for a special time…hehe”

[asamary]

Worried critters

(Sorry for the long wait and ant could color the background but eh your here for the story anywaysXD)

When morning came, in the critter’s home, where loud snores could be heard. Bobby woke up, already full of energy. She jumped softly out of her bed, as she stretched her body. She looked out the window, seeing the sun not yet out .she looked at her messy roommates still asleep. ‘Well then, time to go to work!’ She thought, as she walked out of the room, and into the kitchen,on her way to the kitchen, she saw a sleeping catnap on the couch. Seeing as he didn’t had a blanket, she went back to their bedroom and took one, slowly putting it on him and continued to go towards the kitchen.

As she looked inside the fridge and cabinets, she decided today would be some old fashion pancakes with eggs and bacons. As she took a bowl and a whisk, she begun to put the flour, butter, milk and eggs, a tablespoon of sugar, some baking powder, and a pinch of salt. As she whisked it all together, humming a tune. She begun to ready the pan and heat it up.

Getting the butter and putting it on the heated pan, as she puts batter in, setting the timer, she peaked her head outside the kitchen to see catnap still asleep.Guess all the ruckus bobby’s been making didn’t wake him. she heard her timer pinging, so She went back and flipped the pancake, seeing the pancake a golden brown shade she smiled at her work, she continued this for an hour, before she heard the door to their room opening. “Bobby? You’re up early today.” Said a yawning bubba who looked in the kitchen, seeing the large stack of pancakes. “….what the occasion today? You seem to have made more than you usually do…” bubba asked.

seeing his friend happy isn’t rare or something, but today bobby seems to be more happy than usual. “Oh, good morning bubba! How was your day yesterday?” Bobby smiled, as she asked bubba. “....Stressful, some of the colleges applications the kids wanted to go to has essays. And I also need to interview them a bit. How was your day yesterday? When we came home, you weren’t here. Dogday went to panic mode you know.” He said beside bobby as he smiled at his last sentence. “Oh, i just had a little chat with our savior…. ….Maybe not so little.. hehe.” She answered, scratching her cheek while she flipped the pancake.

Bubba then helped take the pancakes to the table when bobby finally finished the last batch. “Well, next time try to leave a note at the table so we would know. “ he said as he smiled sleepily at bobby.” I’ll wake the others up, try to wake catnap if ya can” bubba said as he went to their bedroom.

As bobby walk towards the couch and stood in front of it, who has the still sleeping catnap with eyes bags under his eyes. She crouched down and tapped his face repeatedly “ cattttttttnnnaaaaapppp, wake up sleepy headdddd” she dragged as she continued to tap his face. He grumbled as he tried to grab bobby’s hand.” Quit it…..” he quietly mumbled as he tried to go back to sleep. “ oh no you don’t! It’s morning and i made breakfast! Wake up sleepy head!" Bobby shouted in front of catnap, as she tried to force him out of bed, Which resulted with him face planted to the floor. "Bobby!" A voice from the door loudly shouted, when bobby faced them she was forced to the ground as dogday hugged her. "When i came home, you weren't here!? Which was not so you... since you're always here when we come home..... WHERE WERE YOU YESTERDAY!??!" He nuzzled bobby's neck as he whined. As bobby calmed down from the sudden hug, she wrapped her roommate in a hug.

that was until she could feel a glare from somewhere. When she looked back to catnap, she could see him still face planted to the floor, but now glaring at the two hugging each other. It was silent, except for dogday's morning affection, oblivious to the glaring cat.

Then bobby suddenly thought of something. As she nuzzled dogday too, catnap suddenly stood up going to ponce, until bobby turned dogday and softy pushed him towards catnap, who suddenly melted in dogday's hands. "Ah! Good morning catnap!" Dogday greeted loudly as his tail wagged, hugging catnap to his chest. Bobby smiled while chuckling at the jelly kitten. "Well then! Since the cat is now fully awake, we can finally start breakfast!" Bobby clapped her hands together, as the door to their room opened again." Well it seems you woke the cat up, morning dogday." Bubba said as he opened the door for the others. "Morning!" Picky suddenly said as she peaked her head out the door. When she suddenly saw the pile of pancakes she dashed to the table, already waiting for the others to sit down. "Come onnnnn im starving!!" She loudly said as the others groggily walk toward the table with them saying "morning or good morning" when everyone is now settled, while dogday dropped the still sleepy catnap on the chair. Picky suddenly begun to eat, not waiting for the others. Dogday trying to wake the cat again, since he begun to sleep in the table. And the others begun to talk about their day yesterday.

As the conversation continued, hoopy suddenly asked bobby."so, you got any plans today bobs?" At that question, the other critters looked at bobby, waiting for an answer. "Well, actually i plan to go to the flower field again... if it's fine?"

She said as the critters begun to get curious about her answer.

"Flower field..... you-you mean the nearby flower field out of the borders?!"

Crafty stuttered as she looked at her back to booby."didn't the 'munched' savior sa-'munched' ehem.. sorry, said that out of the borders without supervising is a big no no?" Picky asked gulping the food she was munching. Dogday was going to say something before he was interrupted by the purple cat he was nagging,"my god said he could allow bobby to go to the flower field as she likes, she has met an interesting person out there they said." Catnap suddenly spoke, face still on his arms. It was silent for a second, before chaos accrued.

"YOU SPOKE TO A HUMAN OUTSIDE THE BORDERS!?!!??"

Everyone, except catnap and hoppy shouted.

Bobby was suddenly bombarded with questions like…

“Who are they?!”

“How did you meet!?!”

“Are they nice!?!”

“D-do they like to painting???”

And more.

As bubba snapped out of his shocked trace he begun to stop the other critters from crowding bobby.” Ok, that’s enough questions for now! let bobby breathe!” Bubba said as the others suddenly came to their senses, and looked down to their feet in disappointment.

“Its-s fine, but it will take a long time to explain, is that ok?” Bobby asked, the others looked at each others or a while until they smiled at bobby, and in sync they said “ we have all the time to hear the full story!” As they smiled their iconic smile.

…..

In (y/n) house, where their grandmother suddenly shouted outside their door. “(Y/N)!!!ITS MORNING GET YOUR ASS OUT OF BED!!" (Y/N) Grumbled as they tried to bury their face in their pillow. "5 more min.u...e.." they tried to say but has fallen asleep again. It was suddenly cut short because of their door suddenly opening. "YOUNG MAN ITS MORNING AND IM TOO OLD TO DO ALL THE HEAVY WORK!! NOW GET OUT OF BED!! " grandma shouted, which resulted with (Y/N) getting up with drool on their pillow and face.

"... and get your face washed, you look like a mess. I'll be waiting outside then... do NOT take too long!!" She said as she begun to go down stairs. (Y/N) yawn as they walk towards the their washroom, splashing their face with water, and brushing their teeth.

When they were done, they begun to speed walk down stairs, and when they went outside, they see their grandmother chopping some fire woods."took you long enough! Now get here and help me with these" she said as she gestured to the previous fire woods she had cutted. As (Y/N) begun to help their grandma bring the fire woods in their shed, their grandma suddenly asked."so who was that new friend of yours, you said yesterday?" (Y/N). Stayed quiet before they begun. "Someone i suddenly met in the flower field... it was like... friend at first sight kinda thing?" (Y/N) chucked as they looked aways when their grandma looked at them with a smirk."friends at first sight ehh," HA! oh (Y/N), you always used weird words...but.. i expected that... after all you are the grandchild of the man i adored~" grandma said smiling brightly when she saw her grandchild blushing at the compliment.'you both are truly alike' she thought as she looked at her grandchild.

As the two continued their work for an hour or so, (Y/N) looked at the day, and suddenly remembered. "Grandma, umm im going to go meet my friend at the same field again.... and um.. i might be late when i-" they were interrupted when their grandma slapped hard on their back, which made them stand straight. "HA, go and have fun!! Ahhh my grandkid is now making true friends~ what good news" at their grandma's answer, they were about to argue, but remembered how their old friends was.

At the sudden gloominess surrounding them, their grandma took their chin and made them look at her, with a warm smile she begun."I'm happy you found a truthful friend in a short time dear, and if they do become like the old ones... im always here to beat them up!" With a clutch fist and a sweet smile on her face, it both made (Y/N) laugh and scared at the same time. "Thanks grandma" they mumbled as they hugged their grandmother tightly."now go out there little shrimp!! And stop hugging me tightly!! You're straining my back already." She jokingly said as she looked at her growing grandchild.

When (Y/N) finishing packing their stuff, they waved goodbye to their grandmother as they walked towards the far away field.

Their grandmother waved until she couldn't see them anymore.

"Your grandkid is finally opening up again Alfred.... how i hope you were here to see them once more" she quietly said, beside a photo frame, as she looked at the clear sky while siting on their backyard.

"Take care (Y/N)..."

（whenever i read this it feels short, eh just me problems maybe ）

[strwbnnie]

Oh nothing, just thinkin about a cute, chubby little babe whose new fav hobby is baking. Do you like sweets? Sure, but that’s not why you started. 

No, it was the look on your husband’s face whenever you’d go to the bakery to pick up fresh bread. He’d stare at the dessert case like a kid in a candy store, begging you to let him get one as if he wasn’t a grown man making his own salary and now he makes that same face whenever you offer him first pick of your own delicious, freshly baked pastries. 

This time is no different, you hear the click of the front door shutting, he’s walking into your quaint little kitchen with a news paper tucked in his axillary and his briefcase in hand. He’s dropping his case near the threshold and tossing the paper onto the table, footing over to you and placing an earnest kiss on your lips before flipping on the sink’s faucet to wash his hands. 

Your husband is old fashioned, no social life and not many hobbies due to his demanding work schedule. He says you’re too pretty to work a job so he works six days a week, every single week, in order to give you your soft life.

You carry not a worry in the world except whether or not you may have over starched his jeans or added too much salt in your latest confection. Of course these little desserts and things don’t equate to all that he does but it’s literally the least you can do to thank him. He swears he doesn’t deserve it, coming home to your love and a hot meal everyday is more than enough but you tell him otherwise every single time. 

“Made ya somethin.” 

He’s drying his hands with a dish towel, turning around to see what delectable treat you’ve gone out of your way to make for him today. 

Bright eyes lighting up as you present him with a display tray of heart shaped puff pastries, lightly dusted with powdered sugar, split down the middle and filled with a tall dollop of a blush-pink colored cream. He’s pulling the chair out, pulling up the legs of his trousers and plopping down in the seat, his legs spread wide. Today was long, or at least it felt long, but even a second away from you is just too damn long. But, it’s over and now he gets to indulge in a sweet treat and hopefully his sweet wife later on. 

He goes to grab one and his pinky finger catches some of the cream from another, those big hands of his are never really ideal when it comes to grabbing such delicate, tiny things. He admired your creation, from the flaky layers of the puff pastry to the little specks of red littered throughout the cream. 

“Strawberry cream?” 

“Mhm.” 

He’s so attentive, it melts your lil heart. “But they’re not in season.” 

“I got the freeze dried ones from the store and a tiny bit of strawberry flavoring. Tastes just as good, I promise.” It tastes the same to you, but who knows if it’d taste good to him, his favorite fruit is strawberries after all. 

He goes in for his first bite and he’s not surprised when a tiny little bit of the cream oozes out and plops onto his white collared shirt—some of your pastries do tend to get messy sometimes, his face and his laundry have come to find out.

But it’s no big deal, he just swipes it up with that same pinky & sucks it off like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

He let’s out the sweetest groan—one that has his cute little wife squeezing her thighs together, trying to keep your cool as you wait for him to finish.

“Damn that’s tasty.”

“Yeah?” You gush, the way he closes his eyes and tosses his head back has you damn near squealing.

“Mhm, but everything you make is delicious.” 

Gosh, when he gives you that dazzling smile you almost melt. You rarely ever heard your husband swear, at least not outside of the bedroom, and you have to admit it’s so damn sexy.

“Reallyyyy?” You drag. 

“Yeahhhh.” He mocks your tone, free hand gently grasping your jaw to pull you in for another quick kiss. 

Two bites. Two bites is all it takes for him to finish the dainty little pastry before he’s reaching for another. 

He looks at you like you’ve grown another head when you pop his hand and push the tray away.

“You’ll ruin your dinner.” 

He’s not sure what you’re cooking, maybe a roast or stew and it smells hearty and delicious. He’s sure one more little cream puff won’t ruin his appetite. 

“Babyyy.” Here he goes with the damned whining. “Just one more.” 

He pulls you closer by the hem of your pretty pink gingham lace trimmed apron, the scraping of the chair’s legs against the wooden flooring harsh and loud as he pushes back to give you some room. A pat of his thigh has you raising your leg, throwing it over both of his and straddling his lap.

“I just wanted you to try one! You can have more for dessert after dinner.”

“I tried it and I liked it. I want another.”

It’s a little while before you feel it—him moving his hips back and forth, grinding the hard bulge in his slacks against your panty-covered cunt. He thinks he’s sooo slick, giving you those eyes, that look—you know the one.

“Please baby, you don’t mind dessert before dinner when it’s you I’m eating, let’s keep things fair, my love.” 

Your mouth goes ajar for a quick second, opening and closing in speechlessness before a heavy gasp escapes. You don’t have a comeback and your adorable little pout is no match for his fiery gaze and quick tongue, determined to get his second treat. You’re folding almost immediately, sighing as you reach back to grab another cream puff.

“Okay, but only one more.” 

This is soooo Rengoku coded but you can insert any of your favs really 😁 

*this wasn’t even supposed to be this long 😭

[teencopandthesourwolf]

STFU!

for the @sterekdrabbles 30/09/24 challenge. the prompt words were VORACIOUS, LOUD, and MILK. also tagging @sterekdrabblesgonelong as this ended up going long (884 words) xp

also found HERE on ao3

rating: EXPLICIT

Derek finally caves, succumbing to Stiles's feral wiles and allowing Stiles to drag that disgustingly hot wolfy-ass beneath Stiles's not exactly fresh and not exactly sexy bed sheets, for what is the B-movie prelude to (god willing!) the night's main event that will hopefully see Stiles Stilinski getting royally fucked within an inch of his Gay Virgin life.

Stiles—albeit inexperienced in this department but very much making up for that with a voracious sort of enthusiasm, thank you very much—is in the middle of sloppily sucking Derek off. The werewolf's not actually knotted cock-end is currently mercilessly bumping the back of Stiles's throat (Stiles is loving the fact he's never had a gag reflex, and by all accounts so is Derek), before a mix of precome and spit is confusingly flicking up into Stiles's eyes and hair as Derek manhandles him to skillfully flip their positions, Derek now suddenly the one with a mouth stuffed full of steel-hard cock.

Stiles is instantly shrieking Derek's name like a lunatic (ha) at having Derek's brand-hot mouth clamped around him, so loud Derek has to shove all four fingers of his left hand into Stiles's mouth to essentially gag him—and hopefully desist any need the neighbours could have to call the Sheriff and tell Stiles's old man his only son might be getting his throat ripped out by a wild animal of unknown description.

It embarrassingly takes no time at all of Derek swallowing Stiles down like a champ (and giving his balls a glorious beard rash for him to jerk off over tomorrow) for Stiles to be dangerously close to shooting his load—directly into what feels likely to be Derek's fucking stomach at this point, because jesus fucking christ he's gonna come hard—and he finds himself slapping haphazardly and manically at the ball of Derek's shoulder with the palm of his hand, as if they're in an wrestling ring and Stiles is desperately trying to tap-out of a full nelson.  

“No-no-no! Stop-stop-stop, Der, please, you gotta—or I'm gonna, y'know, like I'll—and it'll happen, like—shiiiiiiit, oh, man, you cannot keep doing that with your tongue, big guy, or it's gonna be game over before it's even properly begun!” he manages to splutter out, indignant and rambling more than usual with the insane levels of pleasure now shooting throughout his body like a trillion miniscule lightning strikes.  

Derek, of course, completely ignores Stiles and absolutely keeps swirling his gorgeously warm and wet tongue around what is definitely the most intense hard-on of Stiles's eighteen years on this planet, like his dick is not actually a dick at all but Derek's favourite flavour of popsicle. Although, Stiles now knows that The D (or at least Derek Hale's fantastic D) does not, in fact, taste anything like any popsicle Stiles has ever consumed; it's maybe more like salt-water taffy, only with less sugar and a lot more salt and holy mother of god, Stiles loves, loves, loves it. And even trying his dumb best to distract himself from what he knows is the inevitable, to make this not-so-little slice of pure heaven last just a teensy bit longer, Stiles knows thinking about the taste of cock while getting blown by the hottest creature he's ever had the good fortune to lay eyes on is definitely not helping his situation one iota.  

Thank fucking fuck, Derek chooses this moment to relinquish the divine vacuum he's got going on between Stiles's inner thighs via what are probably now obscenely swollen-red lips, when he releases Stiles's erection with an incredibly filthy-sounding pop.   

Almost dizzy from the change in pressure around his junk, Stiles forces his head up to eye Derek (whose lips really are an obscenely swollen-red, which is even more outrageously hot than Stiles had imagined) just as Derek says, “I'm about to suck your deranged brain out through your pretty cock, Stiles, then I'm gonna milk you dry until you're begging me to stop. So, you better hang on to something, and be careful not to bite your tongue off when I stab mine into your slit and use it to fuck your dick till you're crying, okay?” as if he's talking into the McDonald's drive through speaker to order himself a Big Mac meal with large fries and a shake, and not unknowingly acting out a spank-bank worthy scene from one of Stiles's wet dreams. 

Hell, Stiles all but comes, there and fucking then, because who the fuck says shit like that?! 

His face is doing what must be a very strange mix of a smile and a frown as he just about manages to pathetically whine the words, “But Der, oh my god, I really, really need you to fuck me!”

And yeah, he's practically crying already.

Fuck off.  

Derek grins, then, and Stiles doesn't think he's ever been more his wild wolf-self as he licks his canines and growls out, “What makes you think I won't be taking advantage of what I know is your excellent refractory period, to make you orgasm like a fucking freight train, at least twice, before I rail your tight little ass until dawn and give you several more, hmm?” 

And—honestly, Stiles has never shut the fuck up faster in all his life.

.

come leave me a comment HERE over on ao3 :)

[yanderecookierunkingdom]

So I had this idea for a bit due to my fixation over the “Primordials” (it’s what I call the first five baked cookies): What if during their lives, before corruption, they stumble upon something that is…out of place to say the least. In a world full of cookies baked by the Witches, they find an…”egg”with unique colors and markings on its shell. Unaware of what’s inside or why it’s just there (it’s the first dragon cookie) they decide to care for it by themselves as they don’t trust the “lesser” cookies to handle something so new and special. It takes a long time for the egg to begin cracking, but they care for it in their own way regardless as they can sense the life that is inside. Post corruption, the egg finally starts to hatch and they notice “exotic” features on the baby cookie that even they don’t have. However, before being able to see the full sight of the newborn, the Witches cast down the forks and chains to imprison them.

(If you’d be willing to do another part of extra, you could do Shadow Milk reuniting with the dragon cookie in Beast Yeast, the dragon being conflicted as they recognize the voice of one of their caretakers from inside their egg)

The egg was.. strange, to say the least. None of the Five Heroes knew when it came to be. All that it wasn't there one moment, and the next, it was.

Burning Spice Cookie was the one who found it first, having shoed away wild animals that were sniffing at it and even trying to eat it. He really had no clue what to do with it, so he called upon his friends, and they all gathered around.

None of them knew what to make of the egg. They tried asking the Witches, but even they had no answer. It was as if the egg appeared from thin air.

Regardless of the origin of the egg, all of them could sense life inside of it. Small, young, and still growing, but life nonetheless. So, they each took turns watching over the egg. Making sure it was kept warm and safe, never to be hurt.

Eternal Sugar Cookie loved leaving you some of the little trinkets that Cookies would offer her. She couldn't wait to see how you would look with them!

Silent Salt Cookie normally just stood vigil at your egg when it was his turn to look over you, but you're the only one he'd speak at length to. His voice would be soft, but yet he'd speak for more than a few words at a time.

Burning Spice Cookie loved to tell you his stories about the wild animals he tended to see and all the Cookies he had to recuse because of those animals. He would always promise bring you to see some.

Mystic Flour Cookie loved reading you any books and scrolls that could she could get her hands on. She could read to you for hours, or maybe just tell you about the types of trees.

Shadow Milk Cookie would spin elaborate stories for you. He usually spent the longest time outside of your egg, telling you tall tales about him and his friends. He couldn't help it, he just wanted to be your favorite.

But as their corruption began to grow and take place, so too did your egg begin to hatch. They still kept a vigilant eye over it, though now it was with.. darker intents.

If they had you, a strange new Cookie, at their beck and call.. who knows what chaos they could cause? Who knows what mayhem could be done?

But it was never to be.

They were sealed away, just as the egg fully hatched, and a confused "Babas..?" echoed throughout the air.

You knew him. You recognized him, even if he was distorted. That was one of your babas, one of the ones who cared you while you were in your egg.

But you didn't hesitate to put yourself between them and him. "Baba! Please!" You pleaded. "Don't hurt them!"

And that made him pause.

".. little egg?"

[jade-efflorescence]

let me have tonight, you put color in my black and white

spy x family | forger family & twilight/yor forger | rated g

ao3

As Yor, Loid, and Anya enter their apartment, a bit of the autumn chill trails behind them, as if it were a stray cat refusing to leave their side. Yor hefts a bag of brown sugar across her shoulder, while Loid balances a full carton of eggs and a paper sack of groceries. Anya darts forward, a jar of peanut butter tucked into her arm as she shouts a greeting to Bond’s resting figure. Bond lifts his head in interest, letting out an acknowledging whine.

“Can I have the peanut butter, Miss Anya?” Yor asks her. She receives a bright smile and the said jar in return. Loid smiles over the small habit—even when they have more than solidified their connections to one another, his wife never fails to be kind. Classic Yor. 

His smile remains as the three of them work side by side in the kitchen, laying out the flour and salt and sugar from their cartons and cabinets—a little treasure hunt until they are ready to bake. He feels Yor’s breaths on the shell of his ear, and Anya’s hyperactive presence brushing against his side. Not for the first time, he feels that this is the most precious mission he’s been on.

“What are we thinking this evening?" he asks them, moving towards their radio in the living room. “Jazz? Swing? Something else?”

He observes his wife examining the recipe card through their little kitchen window. He can’t help his smile as his daughter hops on her tiptoes to peer at it too. 

“Anything sounds lovely,” Yor answers, tossing him the smile that makes his heart beat a bit faster.

“A surprise it is, then.” He turns on the radio and flips through several channels before settling on one with an upbeat acoustic melody. He turns up the volume and heads back to his family’s side, humming a few notes he picks out of the chorus. 

The kitchen becomes a symphony of soft words, baking utensils, and laughter. Loid takes care of the dry ingredients, while Yor and Anya handle the liquid ones. Yor hovers behind Anya, guiding her to measure out the butter, salt, and sugar with sweet-spoken instructions. As Anya levels out the last bit of peanut butter, Loid reaches for the eggs, cracking some shells and adding the yolks to their bowl before paying attention to finishing his own.

He brings the flour closer to him, gesturing for Anya to open it when she and Yor finish their part of the recipe. His daughter opens the top, gasping in surprise when a cloud of flour rises out of the bag. On impulse, he drags a finger across the edge of the flour sack and dabs a bit on her nose. He relishes in her delighted giggle. 

“Mama should want flour on her face too,” she tells him. “Then we can be matching!” Loid holds back a chuckle at her antics because of course that’s what she’d want him to do.

Yor glances at him with widened eyes, a charming pink blush splashing across her cheeks. How endearing. He loves her so much. 

“Oh!” she gasps. “I—”

“You do, do you?” he jumps in, giving her a playful smirk. “Well, I have just the solution.”

She laughs and darts away from his outstretched, flour-coated fingers, only to have several brush her forehead a second later. “I got you, sweetheart,” he chuckles, reaching to wipe the remaining powder on the dip of her waist.

“Hmm, are you sure?” she replies, grabbing his hand and smearing the flour still coating it against his cheek. He can’t bring himself to tame his smile as he looks at her, letting himself grin widely instead of sharpening its edges. For a second he feels like that child again, the one running with his old friends unconcerned with peril and peace—although younger him never experienced the gift of Yor’s presence.

(Somehow, even on separate paths, he’s certain that they would have met someday, and grown inexplicably close to one another.)

“I suppose you’ve overtaken me, darling,” he replies, warmth flaring in him at all the other memories that exist between them.

As much as a younger part of him would have loved to cover the whole area in flour, the older part of him recognizes it would have made baking a distraction rather than a goal, so he settles for this tiny indulgence. 

“Shall we combine the dough and find a few caramel candies to put in it?” he wonders aloud, redirecting their focus. “Or I have a caramel-making method that might work.” 

(It’s been a while since Twilight took on the visage of a confectioner, but he figures he remembers enough to avoid burning anything.)

His love hesitates, her gaze darting towards the cabinet as she thinks. “We have a few candies left over, but not enough for more than a tray. If you wouldn’t mind?”

He’s close enough to peck her temple this time. “Always.”

The radio channel turns to a swing number as Anya and Yor combine and knead the cookie dough, rolling up spheres to set on the silver baking sheet. At the same time Loid busies himself near the stove, stirring sugar, butter, and cream into a molten syrup. The mixture bubbles in the pan and shifts into a golden, chestnut hue. The sweet richness of its scent mingles in the air as he pours it on the imprinted dough and slides the drizzled tray inside the oven.

Anya watches an episode of Spy Wars as the desserts bake—gasping at the dramatic moments, hugging Bond’s neck during the suspenseful parts, and calling out encouragement to Bondman as he escapes the dastardly plot of the day. Yor and Loid sit on the couch so closely they meld into one soft, affectionate whole. Loid lays his head against Yor’s shoulder. Yor intertwines her fingers with his. They are two glowing gold threads, woven together like rope. Their shared, precious peace is evident in the silence of their being, in the way they steal a quick, adoring kiss when Anya and Bond are occupied with their show.

How wonderfully loved is he now, that peace feels like an opportunity rather than a rarity.

Yor hums a bit to the tune of the jazz ballad in the background, the radio turned quieter for Anya’s fun. He closes his eyes and listens to her gentle alto, remembering a similar night under a drunken haze and the glare of a streetlight. If anything, he’s become even weaker to the sound of her voice than the past hint of an old lullaby—what an unexpected, wondrous thing.

It seems as if the leaves changing to scarlet and gold outside their apartment reflect his own state of mind, for Agent Twilight has done the unthinkable. He has morphed into a being outside of a war-shadowed, battle-born changeling. He no longer feels trapped by all that ever could be, nor by past bouts of betrayal and burdens. He is not defined by his willingness to become forgettable, and it is as distressing as it is exhilarating, carving a new existence out of brittle wood. He can only hope that he has learned enough from the ghosts of his former self, and that Anya will never have to experience such a twisting terror.

“Should I get up and make some soup, or will we make Anya eat cookies for dinner?” Yor whispers in his ear with a laugh.

His response is to tug her closer to his side, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“Five more minutes, sweetheart? Please?”

“Mmm, are you sure it’s only five?”

“I’m very sure, of course. Completely.”

“Uh-huh. You’re cute.”

“Have you looked in a mirror recently? Because that would say otherwise, I think.”

“Charmer.”

“Darling.”

“Insufferable.”

“Love.”