#and avocado

[b0tster]

What do you eat for breakfast?

bagol

[willowcrowned]

in europe and made the fatal mistake of trying to order nachos at a restaurant and look. europeans. I say this with all the love in my heart. but what exactly do you think nachos are

[daily-deliciousness]

Grilled chicken salad

[lustingfood]

Avocado BLT (x)

[florietas]

[lovertm]

food paintings on newspapers by Julia Stankevych (6)

[eupheme]

Your best friend Wade who always jokingly flirts with you the way he flirts with everyone - and you hate it because you have a real genuine crush on him and the flirting doesn’t mean anything… does it? It has to take a mutual friend to be like “oh my god he’s in love with you and doesn’t know how to tell you, so that’s why he’s always joking about boners” (please and thank u ilu 😌)

omg avo this kicked my ass, the amount of pining for Wade as he (jokingly, you think) flirts with you would be off the charts 🥲💖 I wrote a little drabble with how that might go, I love you and your ideas - thanks so much for sending this to me!!!

— cause every time we touch (i get this feeling)

best friend!wade wilson x mutant!reader

<1k | flirting, dirty jokes, heaps of pining

Blow job. Leg Spreader. Slippery Nipple. Liquid Viagra. Sex on the Pool Table. Pink Silk Panties.

Each time Wade comes into Sister Margaret’s - which is four or five times a week - he asks for dirtier and more obscure drinks.

"Wishful thinking", he tells you, each time.

Even with the roll of your eyes, you have to admit that it keeps you on your toes. That you look forward to seeing your best friend so often - tamping down the jolt in your belly, night after night.

Reminding yourself that yes, he got you this job, but he's not here to see you.

That this always was his spot.

It had been an easy sell. Used to working overnight shifts - security, back then. After the disaster with Weasel, they had been desperate for a replacement. Wade had come to you immediately, dropping to his knees as you opened the door.

Winning you over with a "you could literally get paid to hang out with me. How is this not a win-win-win? How is this not your dream job?"

And here, you didn't have to hide what or who you were. Reading feelings and intent were a bonus, when a handshake could tell you everything you needed to know. Their feelings spilled as easily as they were written, when you were negotiating contracts.

It also helped in-house. A human lie detector. Able to break up fights, settle arguments. A party trick, when things got slow. The regulars trying to get things past you - tales based in truth spun tall, seeing when you'd catch them.

Wade never plays, but you think that's because you know him so well.

And what seems like a sell, quickly evolves into more. Warping, as days pass. Spending more time with a crush sounds tempting, on paper.

The reality is something else.

Yes, there is a seat saved for him at the bar. Literally saved - his name scrawled across the vinyl, and you still haven't been able to scrub it out. Stopping by at all hours to chit chat.

Teasing you - how he's "so glad he doesn't have to stalk you at your old job anymore". An over-the-top sigh about being relieved that you're safe now - in your new job, surrounded by mercs.

Begging for the best job. Puppy-dog eyes. Fake coupons for favors that would make a sinner blush. Crossing his heart that you could have anything, and he means anything you wanted, if he could only get "that thing involving the murder clowns".

It's enough to make you hope.

Later, at home - in the early hours as you're pulled under. Replaying his comments. The filthy jokes and the shameless flirting - wondering if that's all they were.

Wondering if he'd be waiting for you tomorrow, perched on his stool.

But there's the downfall.

You see him - but you also see him with everyone else.

The charming smiles. Head thrown back in a laugh as he works the room. A friend to all, and as you watch him - perched on the knee of a goddess of mercenary as he yaps away, you can't help the swift current of jealousy.

Of foolishness.

It's enough that you're almost regretting agreeing.

Your mood is sullen, as you wipe down glasses. Trying to ignore the ache when you see him flirt. That realization that the something special you thought he had with you, might just be a part of his personality.

And when Dopinder shuffles from the back with more ice for the chiller behind the bar, it only takes one look at you before he's sighing.

"Not again. Please, I am begging you. I cannot take more of your yearning.”

Your lips quirk. Hadn't realized you'd become that obvious. He'd become your go-to, in the long hours you spend together behind the bar. Pinkie-promising not to say a word - but you always thought you'd had a decent handle on your expressions.

"We don't have to talk about it." Your hands raise, placating, "Just let me yearn in peace. I'll get over it."

"You know that almost half of what DP makes a month is funneled back in here, right?" He gives you a long look, "Before you, I saw him once a week. I had to beg him to come get his paycheck."

Doubt still lingers.

"Doesn't mean anything," You shrug - eyes dropping, as you help him restock.

"You do not think Mr. Pool worships the ground you walk on?"

The intensity of his question has you side-eying him, "I mean... I don't think he sees me that way. He acts the same with me as he does with everyone."

“Sure.” He huffs, leaning against the bartop, just as Wade plunks down in the seat in front of you.

“God, I haven’t been over here in like-,” Wade checks a fake watch, “Fifteen minutes? Feels like longer. Felt like a fucking hour.”

Pivoting back and forth on the stool as he adds, “Is it possible for people to get separation anxiety? Or is that just dogs? Is this how Dogpool feels when I’m gone?”

You just manage to catch the last bit, as Dopinder slips away.

“Exactly the same.”

Tonight, Wade is the first person that sits down in front of you for the game.

A frown, as you peel off your gloves - your barrier, to the outside world.

His own already bare - sliding back-and-forth over his suit-clad thighs. You'd mistake it for nerves, if you weren't so sure Wade had never been nervous in his life.

"What's your story, Wilson?" You ask, "Hope you brought something good."

"Oh, it's a whopper. A real fucking doozy. Apparently, you're not gonna believe it. " His laugh is a little too loud, and your eyes narrow, "But let's give it a whirl, okay?"

There's a flicker, behind the bar. A sideways look towards the bar, where Dopinder's hands cover his face. You don't need to touch him to read the guilt written across his features - the way he almost flinches, under your glare.

You're going to fucking kill him.

The sound of your name brings you back.

“Ready to play?”

Wade's hands rest face-up on the table - an offering. For once in his life he almost looks serious, and it’s enough to bring you back.

A breath - before you align your own. Letting them drop down, skin mapping against skin for the first time.

It floods through you.

The lick of heat that almost feels like a caress. A deep yearn that causes your own heart to twinge, layering with the feeling of need. Desire. Want.

It's familiar. It mirrors something deep inside, something that’s become as much a part of you as flesh and bone.

Oh.

A laugh slips from you, breaking the beat of silence. Relief tinged with disbelief - your smile stretching wide.

“Yeah?” You breathe, softening.

“Yeah.” He laughs, “Thought I was being obvious. But you are pound-cake dense, apparently.”

Hands flipping over, to entwine between yours. Letting that feeling inside him linger, settling warm and comforting over your bare skin.

“But I like that about you.” Another huff of a laugh, “Like all of you, really. Always have.”

It makes your heart ache. In a way that finally feels full, feels right - instead of the near-agony you’ve been bearing for weeks.

Only you could be such an idiot.

thanks for reading! 💖

[noivern]

i mightve made. too much gnocchi.

[strange-aeons]

See him face :)

[fuckwallpapers]

[fatty-food]

(via Instagram)

[zephyrchama]

🎁🥔

Beelzebub and Mammon made their presence very well known when they entered the living room, with heads held high and chests puffed out proudly. They were a little sweaty and disheveled but strangely upbeat. Beelzebub was clearly concealing something behind his back. Mammon had his nose pointed so far up, it was almost a challenge to the Avatar of Pride's moniker.

You looked up from the couch and asked, "What's up, guys?" Feeling for all the world like a kindergarten teacher about to play a game with their students.

"We got you something," Beelzebub said with a pleasant smile. It was almost entirely drowned out by Mammon's loud boasting.

"You won't believe what I found. You're 'bout to be real grateful, so get our praise ready."

They plopped down into seats on either side of you, Beelzebub careful not to jostle the mystery in his hand.

It wasn't every day they made a big deal out of giving you something. Normally, they'd just do it. Your interest was piqued. "What is it?"

They smirked at each other. Both demons wanted to drag out the suspense, but were also too impatient to wait much longer. Still in their school uniforms, they probably rushed straight home as soon as they procured their present. After grinning for several prolonged seconds in self-satisfaction, Mammon snapped his fingers dramatically. "Show 'em, Beel!"

Beelzebub placed the gift in your lap as if it were made of the finest glass.

It was a potato.

"A human world potato," Beelzebub explained, as if there was any doubt.

"Ya don't see this in the Devildom everyday. We thought you'd like a human treat every once 'n a while."

It was green and wrinkly, with multiple spuds sprouting out the top. It looked like somebody had dropped it behind a shelf and found it months later through smell alone. It was impossible to discern if it had been washed recently or if, at this point, the slimy and moist texture was just this tuber's natural state of existence.

Two sets of eyes filled with anticipation were locked on to your face, scrutinizing its every move. They were waiting for their shower of praise. You forced an awkward smile and laughed with strained excitement. "A potato! Wow, thanks guys!"

"What are you gonna make with it?" Beelzebub was eager to know.

"I'm not sure." You gazed at the gift. You kind of wanted to fling it off your legs before your skin started crawling. Though, you couldn't insult the brothers after their hard work. It was time to start lying through your teeth. "I'm so touched. Really. That you went and got... this potato for me. I kind of want to keep it as a memento!"

Mammon waved his hand to dismiss your idea. "Nah, don't hold back! I paid a pretty hefty sum to get a hold a' this, y'know."

Your heartstrings twinged with guilt. To avoid stirring Beelzebub and his endless stomach, Mammon leaned over towards your ear. "Fry it, bake it, boil it. It's all yours," he whispered. "'Long as you're happy, yeah?"

You were not happy. Every day with these demons brought a fresh source of stress. At least you were never dull.

"Solomon once said that green vegetables are good for humans," Beelzebub revealed.

You twirled your head around so fast that you accidentally bumped Mammon in the nose and asked, "You actually took food advice from Solomon?"

"Only after Belphie confirmed it," he clarified. So they did do their research.

While that was usually true, this was an incredibly unfortunate exception. You could not bring yourself to consume the sad green potato. You needed a new idea.

"Can human plants be cultivated in the Devildom? I want to plant this, and then we'll have more potatoes we can all share." The wet sensation on your leg only grew more unpleasant and you wanted to get rid of it as soon as possible. "Let's go plant it out back and see."

The siblings began talking over one again again, saying, "My human's got a heart of gold" and "I'd like that" while squeezing you with bear hugs from either size. It jostled the potato and you feared it would start leaking more.

"Let's go, let's go!" you ushered, eager to give this old vegetable a proper burial. You could vaguely hear Mammon brag to his younger brother, "I told you this was a great idea, they're gonna be thankin' us for weeks," as you raced towards the doorway.

[daily-deliciousness]

(@bnaporkstore)

Turkey pesto : homemade roasted turkey breast, melted mozzarella, basil pesto, avocado & tomato wrap panini

[lustingfood]

Crispy Cajun Smashed Potatoes (x)

[ilonacho]

Sad book club📚

[eddsworldbish420]

Oh SpongeBob how I love you