#but now with only two eggs active

[54625]

I think it has just finally registered to me that we'll likely never see Ramón ever again

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

A Day in Life

Synopsis: A day in the life of Jason Todd. Also, he's a househusband now. Oh, and a little plot twist.

Pairing: Househusband!Jason Todd X Gn!Reader; Platonic!Batfam

Tw: Canon level angst for Jason; Some sexual innuendos; Writer apparently doesn't know how to finish a story anymore; This is pretty slice-of-life so maybe boring?; English is not my first language.

Word count: 3,8k

Requested? No.

General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist

Wake up, make out, get up. First steps of your everyday routine. Sometimes making out turns into something more, but not today.

From his past life, as Robin, Jason learned a lot about discipline. As much as he tried to forget everything and everyone from his past before you, some habits die hard, although with time, with you and with therapy, he accepted that not all of his experience was bad or should be thrown away just because of one sociopathic clown who hurt him. Yes, Jason died, came back angry and did a lot of shit. But he was still alive and this could be a second chance.

While you, his darling spouse, get ready for work, Jason gets up, puts on his apron, fills the dog bowl for Daphne — your little brown dachshund that you adopted together four months after getting married —, opens the doors to the garden, so the dog can do whatever, and finally starts making breakfast and lunch. Breakfast so you two can eat together and lunch for you to eat at work. Sometimes you both meet up and eat together at your office or a restaurant. Today, that's not the case.

Simple yogurt with fresh fruits and nuts, coupled with a slice of chocolate cake he baked the day prior, eggs, toast and coffee for breakfast. As for your lunch box, a natural sandwich, salad, fruits and juice. He also fills up your two liter water bottle, so you feel pressured have no excuse but to stay hydrated.

Food. Until he was 12 his relationship with food was complicated, to stay the least. At first, his beloved but troubled mom would be in no condition to cook him three or more nice and fulfilling meals a day for a growing boy, he either had to learn and make do with quick instant food, eggs and old bread, or starve, since money was something he only saw when it was being handled to her drug dealer. His father was even worse. Jason loved his mom. Still suffers for her. He hated his father who was the one making her addiction worse. He’s still happy he died.

Living on the streets, food was a dream. A bad dream. It either came from trash or he had to do things that made him feel humiliated and guilty just to get some. And it was gone in a flash, he was so hungry he devoured it all in a second, and then his belly hurt.

Then he came. Jason loved his new father. Loved his new grandfather. Loved their food. So healthy, abundant and full of taste. So fun to prepare. He learned a lot from Alfred because he loved to spend time with him, play with the ingredients and make everyone and himself happy with the results.

But then he had those memories wiped out of his mind, (un)fortunately they came back, but at that time food was in the back of his mind. Sure, he didn't have to worry about starving, crime paid more than enough for that, but he didn't put much thought into any of it.

Now, with you, he's making new memories with food. He cooked and baked a lot with you and for you throughout all your relationship, and you did the same for him. He loves his kitchen, just like the rest of your house. The pantry and fridge are always full thanks to you. You take good care of him. You make his trust in you be worth it. And he reciprocates it. Healthy and nice food that brings comfort and makes you roll your eyes. Especially after he started frequenting cooking classes as a hobby, again, thanks to you.

After you are gone with a full belly and a pet in the ass (just like him, honestly), he continues his routine. He changes clothes and goes to the gym. Jason never stopped exercising, but the lack of all the activity vigilantism entails and with all the treats you two have, he started getting more soft. You loved it, he hated it. — Okay he didn't hate it, he just wasn't the most happy with it. Roy thought it was kinda funny, until Jason pointed out he also got softer after Lian. You honestly couldn't see why all that softness they were talking about was so bad since they were still very muscular and defined, just less dry and more snuggly. You honestly thought your Jaybird could go even further. — So the addiction of yoga to his routine happened.

After that, he goes straight home, eats, showers, takes care of his appearance to keep looking like a proper hubby that you can shove on your bitter frenemies faces, and makes sure to keep the maintenance of the house, so you can come back tired from work and enjoy a perfect house to rest on.

Hygiene. Another things that was complicated with his biological family. His father wouldn't touch a single plate or broom, and would beat and scream at his mom if she didn't put her high (again, because of him) ass up and did the labor. Most often than not, their house was messy, had a bad smell that his little nose was so used to that it's not like he minded, and had insects around. His clothes were dirty hand-me-downs, some fit him, some didn't, a lot of them had holes. His hair tangled and itchy.

When he went to the streets, it just got worse.

Bruce and Alfred fixed that. He finally learned what stink was because he only knew good and neutral scents. His clothes fit him. Everything around him was clean and well-kept. No holes, no stains. Hair always trimmed, soft and clean. Well maintained.

When he came back, cleanliness was basic. Of course he is gonna keep everything around him clean. Habit and common sense, you know? Clothes his size because why the hell would he use hand-me-downs when he can just buy his own? And they had to be the right size for his new 6’2 and almost 200 lbs body. Hair? Whatever. Always washed but as long as it didn't look ridiculous he didn't have time to put much thought on his appearance. He was genuinely surprised you were attracted to him at first sight.

Being with you, he learned to enjoy the little things in life again. Sometimes he finds himself unmoving in front of a random room of the house, or in front of the mirror, trying to grasp if it's all real, If this is really his life, if that's how he looks. His mind flashes memories of his childhood home and his current home. He ignores the memories of the manor not only because of the betrayal he felt for Bruce, but also because the manor was from the Wayne's. He was a Wayne. He is not anymore. This is him. His new house, with you, is what he wished he had growing up. What he always dreamed of. Love. Company. And comfort. He felt all of that while being a Wayne, until he despised the Wayne's. Not the couple that died decades ago or the centuries old descendants. But his father and his siblings.

On days where he doesn't take care of the house, he practices his hobbies. He now has time to do it all, surprising you, his therapist, Roy, and himself, he did cooking, gardening, pottery, crocheting and of course, reading. You paid for all his classes, praised him on his achievements, added his creations to the decor of the house, accompanied him on any event or place related to his interests, gave him his own library in one of the rooms in the house. He even made some friends between middle-aged women and the only other househusband and stay-a-home dad that frequented those places.

It was very funny and cute seeing rough, huge, leather jacket wearing and scarred Jason Todd telling jokes to 50-year-old white moms/grandmas and sometimes even babysitting their kids, pets and plants. You knew he could be a good dad one day if you decided to have kids. He was also more than happy to have just you, Daphne and good friends. And plants.

Warmth. When he was a kid his parents broke the heater during a fight, he wondered if they didn't have money to fix it, even with his father's activities, or if his father just refused to fix it. Anyhow, it was always cold in Gotham, freezing on winter, his dirty clothes with holes didn't help much. The streets didn't seem much different in that aspect. The manor kept him warm when he wasn't seven feet under the dirt, in a casket. When he came back, Jason always wore the warmest of clothes, even while sweating, he didn't know why. Now he did. Your house is always warm. Your body is always warm. Comfort. Your love gave him comfort. Warmth. A reason to live.

Love. His mom. Bruce and Alfred. You.

After he was done and rested for a little, Jason took Daphne for a walk in the way to the grocery shop. He wanted to try a new receipt you saw on tiktok today for dinner and had to get more flour and something for the filling.

After a few minutes of walking on his perfectly nice looking and safe neighborhood — nothing like crime alley. The type of neighborhood he saw on the television and imagined those other happy kids his age living and envied them. Dreamed of being adopted into one of their families while jumping from orphanage to orphanage. It never happened. He just got more abused. And then the manor was so isolated that you could only see mansions and plants all around. So big and far away that they looked empty of life. — he got there and strapped the dog to a post, next to a smiley golden retriever.

He got in and- fuck it, I'm going home. The empanadas can wait another day.

— Jason? Oh my god. Jason! Is that you?! — The infuriatingly familiar loud voice calls out from the middle of the shop and all heads turn to look. Shit, he can't go now without embarrassing himself in front of the cashier of his favorite and most visited shop. So he just nods, takes a basket and walks as if there was nothing interesting happening. It worked with the others costumers, unfortunately, Dick thought it was way too interesting and forgot his own basket that only contained eggs and cereal, and started following him around, this time, with a less surprised tone.

— Hey, Dick. — Jason idly muttered, that just made his coff coff brother indignant.

— Hey, Dick?! What the hell? Where were you? It's been three years! We thought you were dead! Or kidnapped! We never stopped looking for you! We were worried! We mourned! What happened? — Was it bad that Jason didn't want to give him a real answer? Probably. Especially with how much his therapist, who he saw on the days he didn't go to the gym, told him he should try to mend things with his family. So much so that he started actually contemplating it recently. But if he did it, it was going to be on his own time. Not by bumping into them in the grocery store. Oh, well. Jason was always good at adapting. The best.

And wow, three years had passed? Makes sense. Recovery does take time and he's been really happy for a while. Jason still remembers the day he decided to quit everything. It was the same day he decided you were the one, truthfully he always knew you were marriage material, the perfect one for him, out of his league, straight out of his most amazing dreams, peak goal for him, but he wasn't sure if he deserved to be the one you should be stuck with forever. He desperately wanted to, but he had to commit. Ride or die. He loved you, now more than ever, and didn't want to waste your time. He was still a bit messy at the time, but you made it all better, he was a lot better than he was before you came into the picture. You were the right choice. Jason always took you seriously, he was just insecure. So, while still in around eight months of relationship, he quit everything.

He quit his family. He quit vigilantism. He searched for recovery. And a year and a half later, with a little more than two years of dating, he made the big proposal. You married on your three-year anniversary. Got Daphne four months later. It's been around three or four months ever since.

While Dick’s math might not be exact, it is not necessary in this context, the point came across just fine.

He also knew that the fact that you both decided to not leave Gotham was going to bite him in the ass one day. One way or another.

— What happened? Oh, well. I retired. Got married. And now I'm a dad. — Daphne was like a daughter to him, so it was the same, right?

His nonchalant reply didn't seem to satisfy the other, though. Todd could see it, the urge to strangle him in his eyes. Dick wouldn't strangle his dead missing little brother, would he?

— You… You what? — Dick was in disbelief.

— You guys searched for me? Thanks, I guess? It means a lot. — Jason just sniffed and went on his way, leaving Grayson behind, paralyzed.

Maybe he could be fast enough and get out of there before the older one got a grasp of his senses back and followed him out. Part of him felt hope, the other heard yours and his therapist voices in his head, and the nagging was annoying. Maybe he never stopped being a “grump”, like you always amusedly said.

Oh, no. Here he comes again. Jason suppresses an eye-roll.

— Stop. Can you really explain? — The mix of emotions was almost overwhelming, an urge to cry, punch a wall, punch Jason's face, scream and who knows what more was running through Dick's body.

Jason sighed and finally addressed him completely. Tone lower so no one could hear.

— Okay. I met someone… Someone good. Someone special. A civilian. I was tired of everything. So I decided to retire and made sure none of you could find me. I'm surprised Roy and Lian kept the secret from you, though. Anyway. Now I'm a stay-at-home hubby, have a dog and go to therapy. You happy? — A beat of silence. — Hey, don't make that face… I was going to tell you guys eventually… When I felt like it… It's not like you guys saw me a lot. How much time did it take for you all to miss me? I made an appearance once in a while when someone asked for help and that's it. Alfred knew everything so if you’re gonna be mad at anyone, be at him too, not just me… And Roy. Don't forget Roy.

— A-Are you kidding me? Oh, yes, blame the butler! You couldn't even tell us? Like “hey guys, I'm gonna retire and take some time for myself for a while. Also, come to my wedding!” I wanted to be invited, you know?! Why didn't you invite me? Did you at least invite Alfred? Did- — Jason rolled his eyes and cut his rant.

— Yes, Alfred was there. Front row and everything. — Dick shrieked.

— T-That’s not the point! — His voice raised slightly from exasperation and both of them checked around for anyone's attention, then came back to the conversation.

Jason raised a hand to interrupt him and took a deep breath.

— Look. I wasn't in a nice place at the time, okay? I'm better now… And I was going to talk to you guys sooner rather than later… — Jason let a moment of vulnerability shine, hoping that would melt his brother's heart and fix things. It did. — We will have a second wedding when we renovate our vows in our 5th anniversary. You can be there… Everyone can be there. — Jason cleared his throat to interrupt the other again. — But now I have to get home in time to make dinner for my honeyboo, so why don't we… Stay in contact and… One of those days everyone can have dinner together and catch up, huh?

Dick took one of the deepest breaths of his whole life. Jason pursed his lips.

— Okay… — He stuck a finger in his face roughly. — But don't disappear again. Or else I promise I’m gonna personally make everyone track you down, understood? — Jason snorted. As if Tim and Bruce wouldn't do it already once they knew everything. As if Bruce didn't secretly keep track of him this whole time. Unless… Unless everyone changed and he didn't know his… His family anymore.

Why did it make him feel weird?

— Yes, boss. — Jason saluted him and left.

— Relax… — You elongated the word. — Nothing bad it's gonna happen… — You went behind Jason and tried rubbing his broad shoulders to chase the tenseness away. The sight and feel of his muscles almost made you drool, and you blinked to focus again.

— How do you know? — You pursed your lips and went to his side to try to make him take his eyes off of cleaning the countertop for the 4th time due to anxiety.

— Because they love you. And they care about you. And they miss you. — Jason deadpanned you. — Just give it a chance. If anything goes wrong, we will just kick them out and you never have to talk to them, ever again. We can even move if you want. Or go on a vacation to the same place we had our honeymoon, I can wear that skimpy piece you like… Spoil you rotten… — Your voice lowered seductively and you pressed your body to his side, running your hand up and down his arms with some pressure.

Jason’s mind went blank and he was speechless for a few seconds. Your eyebrows raised with a small, convincing smile that made all his worries go away. He sighed.

— Okay… Okay, you’re right… — He leaned down and sneaked an arm around your waist. You both shared a slow and wet kiss, bordering between sensual and calming. Unfortunately, he had to wait a few hours before having some action. He pulled his face away a few centimeters, looking you in the eyes. — I thought I had ripped that thing. — You blinked.

— You just might have. But I bought another one because I looked too good on it not to wear it again. — You shared a chuckle when the doorbell rang. You both looked at the door, then at each other. — Want me to get it? — You ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm the last of his nerves. Jason swallowed.

— No. Have to get it over with. — He took a deep breath and then let out. Pulling away from your embrace. — Put the juice on the table for me, please? — You hummed and nodded.

Without giving a second thought, he walked in long strides and abruptly opened the door.

It was like that scene in Avengers: End Game when on one side there was just Captain America against the whole Thanos's army, just staring at each other.

— Are you wearing an apron? — Damian snarked with an eyebrow raised. Jason looked down. Yes, he was. Good start.

— Take your shoes off, there’s other shoes for you all there. And here I was having hope that at fifteen you wouldn't be a demon anymore. — Jason said sarcastically and gave them space to enter.

As soon as they got in the neighborhood they were all already skeptical. If you were the only one working, how much do you earn to live in such a nice area and with this nice house? They could even see a pool in the backyard and there were TWO expensive cars in the driveway. Jason said he quit all of the crime lord thing, did he keep the savings? Did he invest?

The little dog came running and barking, taking their attention away from the house and their shoes, Damian immediately crouched to pet her. Jason let a side of his lips go up. At least that hasn't changed.

— Her name is Daphne. — Jason spoke over the cooing of Duke and Cass at the dog. He locked eyes with Bruce who had an unreadable expression on his face. He looked older, Jason didn't know how to feel about that. Then gazed at Dick, who had a shit eating grin, Alfred, whose satisfied smile warmed his heart, and Tim, who was analyzing the space while changing shoes.

— Nice place. So, what does your partner do? — Are they committing fraud? — You appeared from the corner and replied for him.

— I direct the Queen Industries’s Gotham’s office. — You answered softly with a polite smile, stopping besides Jason, who wrapped an arm around you. Everyone's gaze turning on you made you feel shy, but you held on with confidence.

— Oh, wow, so Jason really is a malewife. — Your eyes widened in surprised and you couldn't hold back a laugh. Jason let a small smile graze his lips, coaxing the easiness out of him.

— I offered to pay cleaning and cooking service, but he wanted to do things himself. — You say, a little afraid they would get angry at you for “slavering” their Jason.

— Did you buy those cars outside? — Wow, Tim really was as skeptical as Jason had said.

— Hmhmm. — You nodded simply, as if it was nothing.

Jason's siblings raised their eyebrows and Bruce cleared his throat, and took a step forward, feet clad in fluffy slippers. He offered a hand and presented himself politely to you. You wondered how much of that was his persona and how much was just a father meeting his son's partner.

While giving them a tour of the house, the family — aside from Alfred who already knew it all — observed the details, happy memories in the form of pictures of trips, your marriage, birthdays, anniversaries, Daphne's growing stages, spontaneous moments that just deserved to be eternalized, trinkets, handmade pots, plants, Daphne’s toys, and the decor that was just a mix of you both. No guns in the walls, no corpses buried in the backyard, no blood stains. The only signals that it was their Jason living here and not a clone were the books, pictures and hidden security measures. 

It was… Good. Peaceful. Clearly the change in scenario helped him. It hurt them a little, some more than others, that it took him cutting them off for him to start healing, although, maybe opening up this new side of him for them meant that it wasn't just that. And it wasn't. The fault didn't fall completely on them. Nor on Jason. And one person, you, can't be the solution for all global crisis. Mental health is complex. Trauma is complicated. Past can't be changed, but the future can. 

That night, everyone enjoyed Jason's cooking, Daphne and the new future.

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@wandalfnation

[wileys-russo]

mapi “surprised it could fit around my bicep”

oh capitana II m.león

thinking back, you should have clocked your girlfriend was up to something the moment that cocky little smirk had settled on her face when you woke up in bed together.

instead you'd just assumed it had something to do with the activities you'd partaken in last night, the evidence which was scattered across both of your bodies, your chest in particular covered in an array of red and purple bruises.

"bon dia guapa!" the defender had greeted cheerily as you finally joined her in the kitchen after a shower, a plate of breakfast waiting you as she pushed you to sit down at the table, stealing a kiss and nudging your chair in.

"you are very smiley today maría." you chuckled at her clearly gleeful demeanor as she tucked into her own plate of eggs with a shrug. "why not? it is the first game of the season mi amor!" mapi beamed as you hummed, the pair of you quickly falling into regular conversation.

but now as you sat in the stands watching your girlfriend lead her team out with the captains armband snugly wrapped around her bicep, her behavior and glowingly cocky aura all morning suddenly made sense.

you'd of course figured it out for yourself when the team lineup was posted and you saw the little (c) by her name, but by then the dirty blonde was warming up and you had no way of being able to yell at her for withholding the news from you.

as much as you wanted to strangle her for the secret keeping you also couldn't deny the immense and overwhelming sense of pride which flooded you at watching her both play and lead her team brilliantly.

knowing mapi always made time for the fans after the match you busied yourself chatting with some of the other girls families who'd been at the game and sat nearby, having met most of them before.

but tired from a hard fought ninety plus minutes you didn't need to wait long, mapi appearing with a few of her teammates up in the family and friends section in what you'd deem as record time, the cool breeze of the late evening also discouraging most of them from staying out with the fans for too long as thunder clouds were forming up above.

meeting her eyes across the room you excused yourself from speaking with patri's cousin and stepped away, shaking your head slowly at your girlfriend who strode over with the same infuriatingly attractive smirk plastered on her face that had been there when you'd woken up in bed beside her this morning.

"hola princesa!" mapi grinned, hands on your hips as she pulled your body into hers, your arms still staying firmly crossed across your chest. "hola capitana." you quirked an eyebrow as her grin only widened.

"good surprise amor, sí?" mapi questioned with a smug smile, letting go of your hips to wrench your arms apart and forcefully wrapping them around her.

"see? much nicer bebita." mapi sighed happily, moving your arms back over her shoulders as you let them fall limply to your sides, giving in and hugging her properly with a small chuckle.

"tan irritante." you shook your head, your girlfriend kissing your cheek a few times with a mumbled apology as the two of you pulled away, your hand held securely in hers as she lifted it and kissed your knuckles with a charming smile and wiggle of her eyebrows.

though once alone together in the car the defenders confidence tripled, the same smug smile never once dropping from her lips for even a second as she drove the two of you back home, hand securely gripping your thigh.

"focus on the road león." you warned her for the third time as her hand moved higher, making it even harder to pretend the simple gesture wasn't affecting you as much as it was, not needing to give her anything else for an ego boost.

"lo siento bebita, i am just thinking about the ride you will be taking later." mapi shrugged, your eyes widening not missing the insinuation poorly hidden behind her words as her lips curled into a smug grin and you wrenched her hand off of you with a shake of your head.

"-surprised it could fit around my bicep, tan enorme!" mapi stretched her arms behind her head purposefully flexing as you closed the front door after her, the defender sending you a wink as you looked on unfazed.

"you are not as cute as you think, minúscula." you pinched her cheek and ducked under her arms, finally succeeding in getting the smugness to fade from her features.

"minúscula!" the tattooed spaniard scoffed in offence, her lack of height really the easiest way to hit at her ego most days when it was getting a little insufferable like right now.

"minúscula!" mapi repeated with a scowl, glaring at you from the middle of your bedroom as she tossed her dirty jersey to the side and you rolled your eyes.

"how many times maría? cuándo aprenderás." you huffed, picking it up and moving it to its proper place in the laundry basket, not in the middle of the floor where you'd be sure to trip over it lately.

"why do you always have to go after my height mi amor? you know it wounds me!" your girlfriend clutched at her heart dramatically as you rolled your eyes.

"you really should treat el capitána de barcelona, with a little more respect." the smug smile was back as she wiggled her eyebrows at you and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop a smile of your own forming.

"bien. do your washing then, capitana." you smacked her cheek playfully as again you ducked under her arm and out the door.

but you barely made it downstairs and two steps into the living room before her footsteps thundered down after you and suddenly you were in the air.

"maría!" you gasped as she spun you around and effortlessly dropped you onto the lounge on your back, pouncing on top of you before you could move an inch.

"i dijo, with a little more respect." mapi purred, grinning wolfishly as you suddenly noticed the new addition.

"en serio. you brought it home with you amor?" you sighed as the yellow and red armband was again wrapped around her bicep.

"eres bienvenido bebé." mapi smirked, sitting back on her heels and making a show of flexing her arms in different poses and pulling faces, grunting and posing like a body builder as you withheld the urge to smile.

"are you going to be giving up football for body building then tonta?" you shook your head at her theatrics. "maybe. what is it that the kids say? i am a tank." mapi grunted, continuing to pose and flex as you couldn't help but snicker.

"well there is no height restriction to body build, minúscula." you smirked beneath her as she stopped, tattooed arms suddenly either side of your head caging you in as her lips curled into a pout.

anything you went to say next was lost as she kissed you, much less softly or as sweetly as she normally would, often treating you as if you were made of glass and could shatter at a moments notice.

your hands tangled in her hair which for once was out, pulling her even closer as hers squeezed your hips, and before you could even blink she'd moved so that she was sitting up on the sofa and you were sat on her lap, lips not even disconnecting for a moment.

your breath hitched as mapi rolled your hips against hers, using the momentary lapse to slip her tongue into your mouth. "why do you always do that?" you pulled away as she smiled into the kiss.

"hacer qué? ven aquí bebita." mapi laughed, trying to lean in for another kiss as you ducked back.

"smile like a twelve year old boy getting a very first kiss!" you teased, thumbs tracing down her jaw with a shake of her head. "que? i do not!" mapi's eyebrows furrowed and another frustrated pout settled on her rosy pink lips.

"you do mi amor. every time we makeout, you smile like that." you shook your head, pressing your forehead against hers. "que? i can't be happy to kiss a pretty girl?" mapi smiled softly, rubbing her nose against yours making you let out a laugh.

"mi niña bonita." the defender whispered, stealing a kiss as her eyes shone with so much adoration you felt your cheeks heat up beneath the intensity of her lovesick gaze.

"capitánas are not supposed to be so soft." you teased, pecking her lips a few times but moving your head back as her mouth chased yours to deepen it.

"maría!" you squealed as she suddenly stood taking you with her and raced upstairs, your legs wrapped around her waist before suddenly your back was meeting the mattress and again she hovered on top of you.

"i show you how capitánas kiss? not so soft." mapi raised an eyebrow, fingers digging tighter into your hips pressing you down deeper into the bed with a smirk.

"when you smile it will be very soft." you teased again, her smirk melting into a cheeky grin as she flexed her arm and the bright yellow armband tensed around her bicep.

"cállate y besa a tu capitána."

[rafeandonlyrafe]

easter day

words: 1.3k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, dad!rafe, mom!reader, fluffy and cute, talk of pregnancy, p in v sex

“when are they getting here?” rafe questions, hands on your hips, leaning over your shoulder to look at the counter where you're finishing frosting the sugar cookies with various pastel colors.

“uhh…” you glance at the clock. “any minute now.” you set down the piping bag as you finish the last detail and turn to look at rafe, changing your voice to a whisper. “are all the eggs hidden?”

“yup.” he nods. “and i already told harper that the small blue ones are for her brother so to let him get the easy ones. the easter bunny told me specifically.”

“smart.” you chuckle, letting rafe pull you in and press your lips together.

“i do just have one complaint.” rafe says, hands moving from your hips to grip your bum. 

“and what would that be?” you look at your husband, one eyebrow raised.

“this dress.” rafe shakes his head. “you look too good in it, you're practically begging me to put a third kid in you.”

“not until elijah is two, remember?” you remind rafe.

“he's 18 months, that's practically two!” rafe lies through his teeth, his grin turning mischievous, knowing just how big of a difference six months can make in a baby's development.

“ill tell you what…” you run your hands up rafes chest. “why don't we sneak away when my parents get here? you know they act like we don't exist anyways.”

you can't blame them, harper just turned 5 and is a handful, which is only added to by elijah. while he's an angel, he's still a toddler and will get into anything and everything if you turn your back for even a minute.

“sounds perfect.” rafe gives you another kiss as harper runs into the kitchen, elijah still distracted in the corner in his bouncer.

“mommy!” she squeals, launching herself at you. you pick her up and easily turn her so she's on your hip. “mommy, mommy.” she continues. “the easter bunny came! i saw eggs in the backyard!”

“oh, yay!” you bounce her slightly as elijah giggles, reacting to harper's excitement. rafe heads to the bouncer and lifts him out.

“and look, mama made cookies.” you show her the frosted sugar cookie eggs and baby chicks. “and i left a couple unfrosted for you to do with grandma and grandpa!”

harper lets out another squeal and wiggles excitedly. “elijah, gammy and gamps are coming over!”

rafe chuckles at her mispronunciation. it started when she was first learning to talk and their names haven't changed since, even elijah calling them their nicknames.

there's a knock at the door and harper wiggles out of your arms to run towards the front, quickly followed by you and rafe, who unabashedly checks you out as harper opens the door to your parents.

“harper!” your mom steps in, wrapping her in a big hug, completing it with pressing kisses all over her face.

“and there's my little man.” your dad takes elijah from rafes arms, whose happy to give him up, itching to get that alone time with you.

you quickly usher your parents in, showing them the unfrosted cookies and other activities to keep your kids attention. 

“rafe and i are gonna go finish their easter baskets.” in truth you've had their baskets finished for a week now, but there's no reason for them to know that.

“okay, that's fine dear.” your mom says, barely glancing to you as harper grabs a butter knife covered in pink frosting.

you grab your husband's hand, and he practically sprints up the stairs, pulling you right along with him into your bedroom.

“god, you knew this would happen didn't you?” rafe questions, hands gripping at your dress, pulling it up as he backs you up towards your bed, keeping the door slightly cracked so you can hear if anyone comes up the stairs. “you know i can't resist this dress.”

you keep your sundresses at the front of your closet, wearing them whenever you find a reason to, purely because of how rafe reacts to them.

“stop talking and hurry up.” you chastise rafe, fingers swiftly undoing the buttons of his crisp shirt until your hands can delve in and feel his muscles.

“yes, ma’am.” rafe smirks, lowering you onto the bed as his lips find yours again, fingers coming to your underwear to feel the wet spot that has started to form. his fingers swipe over the material until you’re moaning quietly, eyes shut.

“god, need to get inside you.” rafe groans, standing to undo his shorts and grab a condom from the nightstand as you take your underwear off, tossing them in the general direction of your hamper. 

you use the moment of silence to listen, seeing if you can hear anything coming from downstairs, but all seems to be calm as rafe pulls your hips to the edge of the bed, lining up his cock with your entrance.

rafe sinks in slowly with a low groan as you gasp, gripping the bed sheets. its been far too long since you’ve been able to have a moment alone like this.

“so good, mama.” rafe wraps your legs around his hips as he begins to move, thrusting in and out of you, thumb already rubbing over your clit, knowing you both need to cum and get downstairs as soon as possible.

“yeah, feels good.” you whine, covering your mouth with your palm as you let out noises, rafe always able to get the sounds out of you even when you should be quiet.

rafe moves faster, cock pushing at your walls, stretching you open for his length.

“shit.” rafe groans. “we need to convince your parents or aunt wheezie to take them for a weekend.”

“mmm, that’s exactly what we need.” you nod. you know that you’d probably end up pregnant again if you had an uninterrupted weekend with rafe, you already feel the urge to reach down and pull the condom off of him, but the thought of dealing with elijah at his current age while pregnant has your mind clearing quickly.

“or we can start sending elijah to daycare once a week.” rafe says, glad that the conversation is helping quell his orgasm somewhat, not wanting to burst inside of you too early.

“fuck, whatever it takes to get more of this.” you push at rafes stomach. he takes a step back as you flip over on the bed, toes touching the floor as you turn onto your stomach.

“god, i wanna marry you all over again.” rafe pushes quickly back insides, thrusts now speeding up as his hands grip your ass, squeezing it and watching the way it jiggles with every thrust.

you push your hand below your body to touch your clit, rubbing it in pace with rafes cock pushing inside of you, pressing your face into the mattress to drown out your noises.

“gonna cum, baby.” rafe warns, cock swelling inside of you before hes releasing with one more deep thrust, triggering your own orgasm as your body shakes.

rafe pulls out, flipping your dress back down over your ass just in case someone sneaks upstairs as he discards of the condom and redresses before heading back to you, helping you turn over to sit on the edge of the bed.

“i love you.” rafe coos, pressing kisses to the top of your head as you lean against him.

“i love you too.” you take his hand in his. “and we should get back downstairs before they get suspicious.”

“absolutely.” rafe nods, following you out the bedroom and down the stairs, leaning in to whisper in your ear when he sees everyone is still occupied with frosting cookies, a smear of orange frosting across harpers nose. “and don’t think i forgot that you aren’t wearing panties anymore.”

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[pricegouge]

cellar door

cw: f!reader, implied skinny/fit, sorry. had to go through a window :( horror elements. you've got a live-in.

fucking tuesdays. nothing good ever happens on a tuesday.

hit snooze too many times, found the eggs had gone off only as you were making breakfast, burnt the coffee. you throw in the towel a whole twenty minutes after waking up and dump all your progress, deciding you'll risk being late for work just so you can stop by some place quick and get a breakfast that isn't actively trying to eat you back. you're checking your balance as you walk out the door, distracted by the forgotten subscription renewal that had gone through the night before. fuck, maybe you should skip breakfast after all -?

and then the car door doesn't give when you try the handle.

"oh, get bent," you hiss through gritted teeth as you try it again, futilely. head tilted back to stare up at the cold, dark sky, pulling at the handle in frustration. once for each of the pale white winter morning stars still glinting away.

it's too damn early for this.

you know yourself too well to even bother checking your coat pockets for your keys, but you do anyway out of desperation. as expected, you come out empty and for a moment you just stand there with your forehead thumped against the door frame while you picture yourself walking out the back door, nose stuck in your phone as you bypass the key holder without so much as a parting glance. you locked the door behind yourself - you know you did, but you try it anyway just to be sure. wouldn't do to pull your landlord out of bed just to have him show up and try the knob, call you an idiot before the sun's even out.

of all the stupid shit you've already pulled this morning, you wouldn't put it past yourself, honestly, but of course securing your house was the one thing you'd managed to complete successfully.

your boss is understanding when you text her. 'take your time. and stay warm!' a point you hadn't considered until she said it, the chill seeping in through the seams of your coat as you stand on your back porch, debating. if you could at least get into your car, you'd have options. potential tools you could maybe use to break in. but as it stands, you've nothing, and a call to your vaguely lecherous landlord is seeming more and more imminent. snow crunches under boot as you round the house, desperate. you'd be proud of how diligent you've been in locking windows, if not for the fact that you could really use an open one right about now. giving in, you pull your phone from your pocket again and grumble when you drop it, fingers gone numb with the chill. crouching low, you dig it out of the snow and check for pavement marks in the low light from the streetlamp across the road. except, your screen isn't the only glass the light catches - a dull glaze reflecting in the basement window before you, rickety casing looking quite promising.

your phone works well enough to use the flashlight, at least. you frown in distaste at the mess of cobwebs on the other side of the window, but between a creepy unfinished basement and an asshole landlord who spends just as much time leering at you as he does belittling your concerns, you'll try your luck with the slumbering spiders.

the panes hang crookedly. two panels, side by side. there's some concern about whether or not you'll even be able to fit through it if you can manage to get it open, but you give it a rough estimate and decide to try anyway - jimmying the first panel until it rocks forward in its soggy frame, enough so that you can squirm a stick between the two where they're latched together, loosely.

probably, you should be concerned how easy it is to knock the lock. you add it to the list of things your landlord will never fix for you.

while the soggy casing had made for an easy in, it's much harder to actually slide the window open. you grunt in effort, cold fingers cramping when you finally get enough space to slip them around the frame. the wood creaks. you worry for a moment that the pane will shatter before it gives an inch, and then nearly topple over when it opens all at once. the cobwebs beyond stretch and warp. snap, brittle with age. snow gives way before you, a small avalanche that collects on the dirt floor below. you're not overly familiar with the basement - have tried all your tenancy to avoid venturing into it - but you remember from the house tour that the north half, up near where the trap door in the front porch opens, at least boasts a cement slab. no such luck here, it seems. the frame digs into your belly when you shimmy through, feet first. there's a small moment of vertigo as you free fall and you can't help squirming in disgust when your hands trail down the slimy blocks that make up the walls. you wipe them off on your jeans as best you can before retrieving your phone from your pocket and throwing the hood of your coat up for an added layer of protection from the general grime.

your flashlight casts a tight circle, a problem seeing as you're slightly disoriented and unsure where the door to the stairway is. you aim it at the ceiling and cringe further into the protection of your coat when it reveals nothing more than a good few decade's worth of cobwebs built up between the beams.

concentrate. somewhere, there's a bare bulb with a pull chain. if you could just -

adrenaline piqued with the stress of your situation, you nearly jump out of your skin when your phone begins to vibrate with an incoming call. irrational anger mounting, you don't even spare a glance at the contact before snapping into the receiver, "Yeah?"

your frustration only builds when you're greeted by the gruff voice of your landlord, made all the more gravelly by the fact that he'd clearly just woken up. "you leave for work yet?"

"john…" the question catches you off guard, gives you pause as you stumble in your efforts to simultaneously use the flash light while also speaking with him. "pardon?"

"have you left for work yet?"

you'd take a deep, calming breath if the thought of inhaling this dank air didn't make you want to hurl, just a little. instead you take a moment to switch the call to speaker phone, move a little further into the room. "can't say i have. why do you ask?"

he grunts, sounding a little perturbed when he continues. "well. might recommend you do."

despite yourself, his presence on the line calms you down enough to brave the cobwebs and you slink forward, trying hard as you can to not process your surroundings even as you search for the door. "why's that?"

"neighbor called, love. said they just watched someone crawl through the basement window."

he gives it all the levity it deserves, but you can't help scoffing at him, nervous humor only building when you hear his jaw clenching on the other end of the line. "sorry. i don't mean to laugh." you pause to collect yourself, take a look around and find your route out. "but i wouldn't worry too much. i locked myself out and decided to try the window instead of bothering you first thing in the morning." a fairly diplomatic way of saying you'd rather navigate the saw bathroom that is your own cellar than deal with him. not too bad, all things considered.

"oh, darl', it's no trouble. climb on back outta that creepy basement and i'll be right over."

for a moment you picture him the way he must see himself: riding up in his battered yet dependable pick up just to save you from the cold. hard telling what makes your stomach turn more, him or the mud which gives under your boot, soft belly of your house. you step up onto the cement slab just as a series of thuds overhead draw your attention - heavy enough to rain dust from the rafters. panda, you imagine, her wide haunches bunching as she thunders through the house, far too heavy for a cat. you should probably put her on a diet. "your house is haunted," you accuse instead by way of reply, eager to steer the conversation away from him coming to save you and rendering your whole excursion null.

"might be," he muses. "but don't fret, love. ghost likes pretty things like you."

"right." you'd roll your eyes if you weren't so busy focusing on your footsteps, picking your way carefully lest you step on a mouse carcass or something equally heinous.

"anyway, what's your plan? the inner door on the porch will be locked too, won't it?"

the one into the dining room, he means. the one you're definitely guilty of never locking because panda likes to spend her evenings in the entry and you don't see the harm when there's a perfectly functional locked door on the enclosed porch. "it's not," you hedge, unsure if you want to be telling your landlord this considering it's his property you're putting in danger.

"darl'," john drawls, and you cut him off before he can add a good reprimand to the list of things you've had to endure this morning.

"yes, it will be locked after this, i promise. i just didn't realize how easy it would be to come in through the basement window."

"always the easiest ones to go through," he grumbles, and you think you hear his car door slam in the background of his call.

"i told you not to bother coming," you groan, kicking over a stack of old paint cans in your haste to make it to the door. like it's a race, like if you make it into the house before he can get there then he won't make you even more late for work, loitering around to check for damages to his basement window and jawing at you about home security.

the door's an old thing. thick wood gone warped and wilted with the damp. it's swollen in its frame, fights you when you try to pull it from the jamb. you grunt loud enough that you don't quite catch your landlord's response, and then zone him out altogether as the door finally yanks free and light spills in from above, the trapdoor at the top of the stairs wide open, overhead porch light glowing cheerily - unawares of the omen it brings. you shuffle back a step, another, try to hide among the shadows of the cellar even as your landlord's deep voice carries on. your fingers scrabble over the screen, smother the unit in your coat - anything to keep his commanding voice from carrying because you know. you know you didn't leave the light on, much less the trap door open.

nonsensically, your thoughts scatter, imagine panda investigating the porch, the staircase below. your head swivels behind as if to check for her even as you keep slinking sideways, skirting the ring of light until your back presses against the grit of the wall - instinctual, easily defensible.

"john," you hiss, risking the light of your phone enough to take it back out, turn off the flashlight, take him off speaker phone, call for help. keep at it even as he carries on, much too loud to hear you.

"- and who would i be if i didn't come to help, hm? can't have you -."

"john! fuck -! listen to me!" you're not even sure he hears you, quiet as you're being. he certainly doesn't stop droning on, though he stops when he hears you squeak, foot catching on something low and soft which pillows your fall when you collapse onto it, cold blankets enveloping you, damp and sweaty.

you gag as you roll, stop dead when another series of thuds echo over head. other direction now, back the way they'd come. your eyes track the path, land on the halo of light spilling through the door just as the intruder's shadow cuts across, impossibly big with the exaggerated angle. without the added light from your phone, you're plunged into relative darkness, the small circle of thin amber light ringing the door scattered by the severe contour of the man upstairs. there's nowhere to hide, really, and your only option is to keep slinking back into the recesses of the basement, too afraid to try scurrying back out the window lest he sees your legs kicking as you try to heave yourself out.

boots lumber into view first, heavy and mud-caked. instinctively, your eyes fall to the dirt you're treading over and seek out the treads. broad, huge. deep scores indicating how heavy he is, how many times he's worn a path into the ground. among them you spot tiny paw prints, almost as disturbing. panda follows after, bobbing into view as she weaves between his legs with a silent cry for attention until she detects you, golden eyes glinting ominously as she scans the basement before leading him in, making a beeline for you the moment she alights on the landing.

traitor.

he's not far behind, ducking through the door while you try to shoo your own car. you force your limbs to move and slide further along the wall, folding under the empty, built-in shelf your shoulder bumps into as you go. it's filthy, cobwebs clinging to the skin of your face as you settle, but you clamp a hand over your mouth and stifle the whimper that builds, ears strained for any movement in the darkness laid out before you.

john's still in your ear, quieter now. as if he knows something isn't right. "sweetheart?" he prompts, and you feel a tear slip down your face when you realize that despite taking him off speaker phone, you'd never turned the volume down. your thumb finds the side buttons now, clicks until john's breathing is no more than a comforting whisper, no louder than your own.

no louder than the response you risk, voice hollow, only really audible on the plosives. "john, there's someone here."

"what's that, darl'?"

your breath hitches before you can respond, the low click and hum of a bare bulb flickering to life leeching your words. it floods the room in fits and starts, turns the man's movements jagged and inhuman as he lowers his arm back to his side until finally it settles into a constant, thin and yellow. he stands directly below the bulb, the shadows of his face severe and gaunt, an odd contrast to his broad stature. for a long moment, he just lingers there, dark gaze shifting slowly around the room. you follow it, try to see what he sees, figure out if there's anything that could give you away.

you don't make it that far, eyes catching on all the accoutrement that lines the walls. bed, stool. small pile of familiar books.

a cat litter box.

disinterested in you when you're not giving her treats or pets, the moment shatters as panda returns to him, headbutting his boots cheerily and begging for pets. he crouches to pick her up and she climbs onto his shoulder with a familiarity that unsettles you further, speaks to how long he's been spending his days with her. she doesn't move when he does, enjoys her high vantage as he cuts across the room, boots squelching in the dirt. he passes by you on his way to the window and shuts it easily, warped wood barely giving him any trouble. in the muted light from the window, you see the odd shadows of his face which you'd noted before are simply the hollows of a skull motif on the balaclava he wears.

"darlin', you still there?"

but you're not, boots tearing up the mud as you scramble out from your hiding place. panda follows you, the familiar heavy thud of her paws when she jumps from her perch a comfort. she passes you on the stairs even as you take them two at a time, chest puffing with the steep incline. at the top you turn and slam the trapdoor down, the white of his mask all you can see peering up at you from the darkness before the door falls into place. there's nothing on the porch heavy enough to brace it, but you try anyway, pulling the cheap patio set closer and shepherding panda through the inner door in the same move, the little shit apparently more afraid of you and your erratic movements than she was the basement dweller with the skull mask.

you lock the inner door after you fall through it, watch in horror through the transom as the furniture heaves, a powerful quake that tosses them to the side before the door creeps open, hollow eyes checking for a trap before heavy, gloved fingers wrap around it properly, push it wide.

impossibly, he seems even bigger here, above ground, where you have a better gauge of normalcy. he eclipses the whole room, blots out the overhead light when he looms closer to the door, dark eye pressed against the pane so he can peer through a fractal in the glass, same as you'd just been. you back further into the dining room, bump against the table just as you feel his gaze on you. it distracts you from the sound of the key in the lock, the creak of the hinges what finally compels you to fucking run.

keys in hand this time, you book it out the back door and slam head first into a sturdy chest, legs flailing under you until john helps right you, fingers bruising hard on your arms as he tries to shush you into submission. he won't let you go no matter how much you shriek, just pulls you to his chest and smothers your cries there, orders you to tell him what's wrong even as he walks you back up the stairs.

somehow, between your shouting and your panting and your sobbing, he gets it: man down there; living there.

"oh, honey, that's just your ghost," he soothes, wrangling you through the screen door with a grip on your jaw which he uses to tilt your head the intruder's way, makes you watch as he lumbers closer, john's voice a low scratch of whiskers against your ear. "told you he liked you."

[httpsserene]

𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 - 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬 & 𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢

summary: you know a thing or two about baking, because you’ve baked a thing or two.

pairing: lando norris & oscar piastri x fem!black/poc!reader (in my head? there’s no physical description of reader.)

content warning: fluff. attempt at banter. dialogue heavy. c0vid lockdown mentioned. baking soda vs powder plagiarized from reddit; thank you redditor fowler311.

˖♡ - ̗̀ ⇢ qatar, you were magnificent until you weren't. this post alone is me putting good energy in the atmosphere for the boys in abu dhabi. is this platonic or not? idk, it's up to you—i just happened to write it. (college semester is over !!! i will be so active you'll wish i never came back xxx) no part two requests, pls 🥺 enjoy reading, loves < 3

⌕ join taglist | upcoming chapters | table of contents ↻

you grocery shop on saturday night because no one else living in monaco would consider doing the same. usually.

as you’ve been grabbing items off the shelves, you occasionally stumble across two young men—they’re the only other customers in the store with you this evening. 

the first time you shared an aisle with them, you offered a polite smile before redirecting your gaze to the various shapes and brands of pasta. the second time, you shyly murmured an “excusez-moi” and they apologized immediately while stepping out of the way, allowing you to grab a pack of chocolate chips. the third time, your polite smile widened in amusement, as you watched the man drowning in an oversized hoodie shadow-box his friend, who remained unfazed at the whooshing fists as he inspected a carton for any cracked eggs.

the fourth time, you realize that the two men are lando norris and oscar piastri—the driver lineup of the mclaren formula one team. and, they’re arguing about the difference between baking powder and baking soda, very loudly. in a carrefour. in aisle three. at eight in the evening. on a saturday night.

surely, these two have more interesting plans for their weekend besides grocery shopping.

“they can’t be that different, can they?”

“hmm. once is soda, and the other is powder. that’s quite different, i reckon.”

“yeah, but, they both start with ‘baking,’ so, i figure they’re more similar.”

“if they’re similar, why would they make two different products?”

“greed? consumption—oh, no, wait—consummate? no.”

“consumerism?”

“consumerism! that’s it.”

“i would agree, but i don’t think that’s the case with these two.”

“well, think harder. it’s freezing in here, osc.”

“i think you’re iron deficient.”

“what?”

“never mind—look, mate, this is your fault, really.”

“woo-oooow, i can’t believe this! so, you’re blaming me now?”

“you wrote the list, lando! how is your handwriting so terrible that i can’t tell if you wrote ‘baking soda’ or ‘baking powder’?”

“first of all, you told me to write the list! nobody writes grocery lists anymore, grandpa! secondly, why would you make the dyslexic kid write the list? it’s cruel and unusual—you know i can’t spell for shit.”

“lando. the word ‘powder’ has two more letters than ‘soda.’ i know that you know that. how did you make—whatever the hell that says—look like it could be either one?”

“osc, you’re hurting my feelings. are—are you saying i’m stupid?”

“i literally never said that. the word ‘stupid’ didn’t even come out of my mouth, you muppet—“

you bang the front of your cart into the end-cap of the aisle, sending a few rolls of bagels to the floor. your cheeks warm as their banter halts and heads snap over to look at you awkwardly rushing around to pick up the floor bagels. the last package rolled unbelievably far to knock against lando norris’s shoe. aren’t you just lucky?

you see lando press his lips together to avoid laughing (you appreciate the effort), and he dismisses your apologies as he scoops the bagels off the floor and moves to help place them back on the shelf.

“uh, t-thank you,” you stutter, as oscar piastri walks over just in time to catch a roll that was eagerly looking to return to the supermarket floor. the two men offer smiles in return—lando’s wide and gap-toothed, oscar’s boxy and toothless.

“soda spreads and powder puffs,” you blurt out, because you left you brain-to-mouth filter at home. maybe they sell replacements here. in the aisle furthest away from the two formula one drivers, preferably.

“what?” lando questions, a matching look of confusion plastered on his teammates face.

“sorry, i overheard your conversation,” you shrug, trying for nonchalance, “baking soda influences spread and browning, whereas baking powder provides puffiness and lift. they’re both leavening agents but, baking soda is sodium bicarbonate and baking powder is a mixture of sodium bicarbonate and an acid. soda needs and an acid to activate but powder needs moisture and heat. so—i guess which one you need depends on what your trying to make.”

you think you failed to portray nonchalance, if the perplexed expressions the two stare at you with are any telling.

oscar blinks, “…we’re trying to make chocolate chip cookies. i tried to convince him to buy cookie dough but he wanted to make them from scratch, even though neither of us can bake.”

“it’s more fun if we do it from scratch,” lando crosses his arms huffily, “you didn’t have to tell her that we’re absolutely hopeless in the kitchen, though.”

“i reckon she already knew that from overhearing our lack of knowledge about baking ingredients, lando,” the australian chuckles quietly, shifting the shopping basket from one arm to the other.

“do you have the recipe on you?” you ask kindly.

oscar hands the scorned grocery list over without complaint, “it’s my mum’s recipe. sorry if it’s hard to read—you’ll have to blame him for that.”

lando scoffs in indignation, “you’re exaggerating, oscar. my handwriting isn’t that bad, is it?”

you feel them watching as you decipher the hieroglyphics that are lando’s letters. you bring a finger up to trace underneath the scrawl, eyes squinting to force the words into focus—oscar snorts and lando sighs in played-up dejection.

“i can understand what you’ve wrote just fine,” you smile at lando, “i’ve seen worse. you know, my younger cousin’s handwritting is miles more dreadful than this.”

the brit knocks his shoulder against oscar’s teasingly, “hah! maybe you just can’t read, osc. have you thought about that?”

you tap your finger against your chin in thought, “—but my cousin is like, five-years-old, with terrible fine motor skills. so, i wouldn’t say that’s a fair comparison.”

the two are caught by surprise, laughing delightedly at your ribbing. the sound of their amusement is contagious enough for you to crease with your own giggles.

“i didn’t expect to be bullied in a carrefour’s on a saturday night by a stranger,” lando says with a grin, after he’s calmed down.

“sorry,” you shake your head playfully, properly introducing yourself before continuing, “i forgot you usually spend your time here arguing about baking soda. which—by the way, your mum’s recipe calls for both baking powder and soda, oscar. which is very smart and unique! in most cookie recipes, most people usually opt for baking soda alone, for the spread of the batter. but, your mum must’ve liked her cookies puffier and fluffier as well! anyways, that explains why it looks like lando could’ve written either word here—because he meant to write both.”

they thank you profusely for helping them overcome the challenge of lando’s handwriting, oscar returning to the aisle to place each ingredient in his basket.

“sorry, could you grab me one of the baking soda, as well?” you ask, “that’s the last thing off of my list tonight.”

“we’re all done, too,” the australian walks over with your box, hesitating briefly before you gesture for him to drop it in your filled cart.

the duo walks towards the registers with you, lando asking, “are you a baker?”

“no,” you chuckle, “i had a phase during lockdown.”

“ah, i should’ve known,” he teases, “i mean, that’s how you know that baking powder is sodium carbon-fiber—“, oscar echoes his teammates ‘sodium carbon-fiber’ with a soft smile, “—just a baking phase, right. makes sense.”

“oh, come on, lando norris,” you scold him jokingly, “baking powder is sodium carbon-fiber and an acid. keep up—we’ve been over this already.”

you separate from the two as you near the registers, unloading your cart onto the conveyor belt and exchanging polite conversation with the cashier as you hand over your stack of reusable bags. you don’t realize that they’ve waited for you until you start to think about the logistic of carrying all of your groceries home.

“uh,” lando pushes oscar forward with a firm hand on his back, the tips of the australian’s ears are reddening, “would you like help with those? we don’t mind holding a few.”

“would you mind?” your shoulders sag in relief, “i do this in one trip routinely but i don’t think that’s happening tonight. i only live about four blocks over—my doorman will help me get them all up to my flat, so i won’t be keeping you longer than necessary.”

that’s how you find yourself walking home, on a saturday night, with two formula one drivers holding the bulk of your groceries in their arms. you’re going to the casino directly after you put the groceries away because your luck is too good to miss out on right now. your doorman heads inside to grab a cart as soon as he catches sight of you. your two helpers exchange a glance in your peripheral vision as you come to stop in front of your building.

“well, this is me,” you start, pausing to thank your doorman, gabriel, as the boys carefully unload the bags onto the cart, “thank you for the assistance, you are both too kind.”

“mr. norris and mr. piastri are always kind,” hums gabriel, winking at the two men, before rolling the cart inside.

“wait, what? you live in the same building as me?” you’re flummoxed. you knew the rent was too expensive, but you didn’t think it was formula-one-driver-expensive.

“i live here,” lando reveals, holding the door as he lets you and oscar walk inside, “osc doesn’t. i feel like i would remember your face if i’ve seen you here before. what floor are you on?”

“i don’t know if i should tell you that,” you side-eye them flippantly, “i fear for my safety.”

“well, i shouldn’t have told you that i live here,” lando sniffs.

“gabriel blew your cover, mate,” oscar rolls his eyes, “also, she would’ve found out anyways. we would’ve had to follow her in to make the cookies in your apartment.”

your doorman squeezes into the first elevator with your groceries, while you and the boys opt for the second. oscar’s hand hovers over the button while he waits for you to clue him in, pressing lando’s afterwards.

lando clears his throat as the elevator begins to rise. “seeing as your thrilling saturday night activity of grocery shopping is over, what are the rest of your plans for tonight?”

scratching at the nape of your neck, you say, “don’t judge me anymore than you have tonight…i was thinking about watching the entire how to train your dragon trilogy.”

oscar gasps quietly, his eyes bright, “i love those movies.”

“would you like to come up to my flat and make chocolate chip cookies from scratch with us? and watch the movies, too?” lando’s question is sweet, and his eyes are earnest.

“i feel like it would be very dumb of me to visit the apartment of a man i just met in the grocery—formula one driver or not.”

“sorry, i can see how it’s weird. better safe than sorry, i know. i promise we’re not like going to try anything, or we’re not, like, serial killers or anything. oscar’s too polite for that, and i’m too squeamish. seriously, it would be just for the cookies. we didn’t have a baking phase in lockdown like you did, so we’re lost on a lot more than the different between baking soda and powder. sodium carbon-fiber and acid, or not. if it’s uncomfortable for you, that’s fine. maybe we can plan for another day when you know us better.”

“yep,” oscar offers in support of lando’s statement.

you smile, “you remembered about the acid this time.”

the elevator dings before softly jerking to a stop on your floor. the doors begin to slide open, “honestly? i think i’m more afraid about you guys possibly burning our building down rather than killing me in cold blood.”

you step out of the elevator, seeing gabriel waiting by your door with the cart.

turning back to face the two men, you survey them with a serious gaze before breaking into a grin, “don’t turn on the oven without me. that part requires adult supervision. let me put my groceries away and then i’ll be right up.”

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[dark-moonlust]

Lust Beneath the Waves PART 2

Pairing: Kraken x f!mermaid reader

Summary: the ocean knows you are the Kraken’s mate and carrying his offspring. Your mate is soft and caring, taking care of your needs especially now that you are pregnant. He always shows you off and keeps you well-fucked and happy.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, monster smut, explicit tentacle smut, egg preg, exhibitionism, Kraken has two🍆 🍆, triple penetration, cockwarming. Don’t like, don’t read.

Read PART 3 here.

The ocean knew your secret.

You’d mated with the Kraken.

It was a secret you wore with pride.

Whispers carried the news through the currents, and every creature beneath the waves knew of the bond you now shared with the most fearsome monster of the seas. You were no longer just a mermaid; you were the Kraken’s mate and you carried his offspring. Your belly was swollen with his eggs, a constant reminder that your mate, for all his fearsome reputation, was tender and devoted only to you.

When you first met the Kraken, you were reluctant and scared. But that was no more. You embraced your mating bond with pride and contentment. You were his soulmate, the most precious thing in his life. You lived with him in the depths of the ocean, in a lavish cave that was yours to do as you pleased.

The Kraken gave you everything: his love, his tenderness, his cocks and tentacles.

He kept you close, always, his wiggling tentacles cradling your pregnant belly while his double cocks stayed permanently buried deep within you, one in your pussy and the other in your ass. He kept you filled at all times, he was fiercely possessive and wanted to constantly show off your union.

You rarely used your tail anymore; the Kraken’s magic had transformed it into legs, and because he fucked your holes at all times, you didn’t mind not using it. After all, you were so big and heavily pregnant that it was hard to swim and move around. You relied on your mate to help you and enjoyed the sensation of being carried by him.

The Kraken’s magic coursed through your veins, ensuring that your body adapted to his needs and to his eggs. He’d laid his eggs inside you from both your pussy and ass. You’d expected the sensations to be overwhelming, but thanks to his magic your body accommodated them without any harm or discomfort. There was only a mild sensation of fullness rather than pain.

Deep within your pussy, five eggs were nestled against your cervix, each one smooth, rounded and about the size of a human fist. In your ass, the other five eggs were similarly aligned and pressed against the walls of your rectum in a magical chamber that sacked them together. You would carry them for twelve months so you had a long way to go.

Carrying Kraken eggs made you impossibly aroused and in need of your mate. You craved his presence and his cocks or tentacles inside you. His seed was nutritious for the eggs so you were always filled in both pussy and ass, no matter where you were or who was around. Each movement of his cocks caused the eggs to shift slightly, sending waves of pleasure through you and keeping you in a state of heightened arousal.

The Kraken showed you off to the other ocean creatures, his beautiful mate, swollen with his spawn and constantly pleasured by his cocks. It was a display of his love and respect for you and everyone was eager to take a peek at the Kraken’s claiming.

And you didn’t mind. You trusted him completely, loved him deeply.

It was yet another day, and you were the star of another show as your mate fucked you for all to see.

The ocean was bustling with activity, all kinds of creatures witnessing the Kraken’s claiming.

Lying back against your mate, your thighs were splayed open for all to see, supported by his tentacles. The Kraken’s appendages cradled your swollen belly, his suckers lewdly slurping your sensitive nipples. Your pussy and ass were shamelessly exposed as his cocks took turns filling up your holes. They thrust rhythmically and occasionally changed holes, making you moan and writhe.

“I know you can take more, little mate,” your mate’s husky voice spoke in your mind. “Open wide.”

“Hmp…” you opened your mouth and accepted a slimy tentacle in your throat. It fucked you slowly, leaking nutrient juices in your belly.

“That’s it,” he drawled, his eyes going with predatory hunger. “Swallow it. There you go, such a good mate."

Working your throat, you licked the slimy tentacle fucking your throat. You felt the warmth liquid drip into your stomach while his cocks continued their steady pounding, your body trembling with pleasure until you shattered and came with muffled cries. Your holes clenched around his dicks and he kept fucking you through bliss, adjusting you in front of the audience so you were kneeling on the seabed. With an audible squelch, the cocks left your drenched holes, Kraken cum leaking out of your pussy and ass, dancing in the water.

Keeping you securely in place, he spread your pussy open with two tentacles.

You heard gasps and whispers from the crowd, felt their gazes, their envy and arousal, and they only fueled your love for your mate.

“Look at my beautiful mate,” the Kraken said proudly. “My mate. Mine! The most exquisite creature in the sea. Look how sweet her pussy is, how pretty and tight.”

He thrust a slimy tentacle in your plump cunt, wiggling it deep, so deep that it nudged against the eggs nestled within you. Another one followed, stretching your walls and pulsing up inside you. You moaned, fisted the sand in your palms as the tentacles fucked you deeply while the slime in your mouth thrust up and down, its slimy texture coating your lips and throat.

“M-mhh-mate… mphhh…” you managed to say once the tentacle finally slipped out of your mouth.

“What is it, sweet one?”

“Nnaaahh… need it fast and hard,” you whined, and pushed back against the tentacles in your pussy. “P-please.”

“All in good time, mate. I’m showing everyone how perfect you are. I showed off your pretty pussy and now I need to show off your pouting little asshole before I fuck it.”

Whining submissively, you stayed put as he angled your hips to give the audience a perfect view of his domination. His tentacles fondled your swollen belly, the proof of your union as his appendages opened the mounds of your ass, exposing your pouting rosebud to every onlooker. The tips of a thick tentacle prodded and stretched the rim before slipping deep inside your ass. Another one joined in, bottoming out inside you.

“Look at my sweet mate.” The Kraken looked at the abyss’s creatures, his deep, resonant voice echoing through their minds. “While you all scorn and fear me, my beautiful mermaid has accepted me and worships me with her body. She accepts me so completely, her ass stretching and accepting me deep.”

You whined and panted and he brought his cocks over your face. You obediently licked them up, your hands pumping the massive girths. The tentacles delved repeatedly in your pussy and ass, pouring juices all over the eggs nestled inside you. His cocks now rubbed against your breasts, leaking against your sensitive nipples. You made a cradle with your plump tits and pumped his cocks up and down while licking and suckling the heads.

The sensations were overwhelming, especially when another tentacle started flicking your clit. White-hot pleasure blinded you and you trembled in another orgasm, your walls clenching around the tentacles pounding your depths. The Kraken followed, cumming with a defeating roar and thrusting both cockheads in your mouth so you could swallow every drop of his seed.

“Glrkh—mnhhh!” you sucked and sucked, breathing steadily despite the tentacles fucking your holes.

“Yes, such a lovely mouth. Suck me dry,” he drawled, slimes caressing your face.

“Nnnaaahh… Kraken,” you panted softly as you gave kitten licks to the head of each cock. He had just released but he was hard as ever. He always was. “Such a good mate for me. So hard and ready.”

“Always for you, little one. Are you feeling alright?” he asked, moving you so your were straddling his huge body, his tentacles cradling your thighs and waist against him.

“Hmm…’m alright…” you clutched him, oversensitive at the tentacles filling you so completely. Every thrust made you see stars.

“You love this, don’t you?” he teased, his voice a seductive whisper. “You love being fucked by your mate and shown off to everyone.”

“Yes,” you whimpered, breathless with pleasure. “I love it. I love being fucked by my Kraken.”

“Love you, too, my little mermaid.” His tentacles slid out of you with an obscene squelch and you whimpered at the emptiness.

“Nooooo….”

“I’m here, little mate, I’m here,” he said comfortingly as he repositioned his cocks and surged inside you to the brim.

You moaned loudly; his shafts pulsed inside you, invading you so completely and rubbing against each other.

“So beautiful,” he gazed at you, his tone softer but no less possessive.

“Shall we go home now, my Kraken? W…want you to fuck me to sleep.”

“As you wish, my sweet one.”

Wrapping his larger tentacles around you, he pulled you closer and began to swim, his powerful body and tentacles cutting through the water. His cocks throbbed within you, the thick lengths filling you completely as he moved in slow, torturous thrusts. He carried you through the dark waters, the journey home a blur of orgasms and moans.

The Kraken guided you into your cave and laid you down on a soft bed of seaweed and leaves. His tentacles cradled your belly while his cocks fucked you in gentle strokes. You moaned softly against him, exhaustion mingling with pleasure. You relaxed into the embrace of his tentacles and reveled in his warmth and security.

“Rest now, my little mate,” he whispered. “I will keep you safe.”

You gazed up at him, your eyes heavy. “Hmmm… love you,” you murmured. With his cocks still buried deep within you, he rocked you gently, lulling you into sleep.

“And I love you,” he replied, watching over you.

I worked really hard for this. I hope you liked it! Please reblog with your thoughts and comment what you want to see next. 🖤 Follow for more and turn on notifications for when I update.

[domesticandlovingmonsters]

On the topic of oviposition, have you considered: a drider who needs to find a safe, warm place to lay their eggs

How could I have missed Driders?????

Forgive me if the first bit isn't a typical oviposition theme but it popped in my head and now I need to vent it!

But a Drider female who needs to lay her eggs in a safe place, but she cannot find a secluded area to her liking.

You offer to harbor her eggs for her. Since you're around her den a lot and don't go far, you could keep her eggs close. And your warm body would be a great asset to the eggs growth and development.

Plus, she wouldn't have to lay the delicate sack against the hard stone walls. Or worry her webbing would fail if she's away for too long.

She's unsure at first. Not because she doesn't trust you but because she has never placed her eggs on a living organism before.

But after some discussion, she agrees and it's a rather messy endeavor. Lots of webbing and thick, bulbous sacks that rest against your chest and stomach as you lay on your back. Allowing her to lay her eggs against your skin.

There's something intimate about this situation. You rub your hands along her lower abdomen, soothing her and massaging her as she carefully places each sack against you.

Once her eggs are laid, she delicately wraps web and silk around you. Securing the sacks to your body.

She assures you that her brood won't eat you when they hatch. She promises to remove them when the incubation period gets close.

She's worried her brood might be too heavy for you. But you shoo her worries away gently as you wobble around with the new weight.

Your back would definitely start aching after a few days, but the eggs are safe and your Drider partner is absolutely thrilled about this new prospect of egg-laying.

A little NSFW version below with a Male Drider:

Your Drider lover needs to breed. A different sort of breeding than your usual intimate activities, you found out.

He's sweet when he explains about the ache in his arachnid abdomen and the build up of eggs he needs to deposit. And speaking about such a topic starts to rile him up.

He grows incredibly needy.

You agree to bear his eggs. And he lays you on a bed of silk, mounting you differently than he usually does.

Instead of his humanoid cock from the front of the body, be begins to grind a pointed tip against your center from the end of his spider half.

It's hard at first. But with more friction and the encouraging warmth from your body, his second length begins to slide from its hardened sheath.

You've never seen this part of him before. It's thick and flexible, but finds your waiting core easily. Your head rolls back as your penetrated in one smooth stroke. And your lover hisses above you. His many legs twitching as a blinding pleasure overtakes him.

You feel a cool substance slide between your legs from him and very quickly, your body falls into a relaxed state. The bliss and pleasure remains as your partner fucks slowly into you. Thrusting until you feel him so deep inside you it feels like he's pressing against your womb.

You watch as his abdomen swells and tightens, then something round begins to slide down the length that connected the two of you.

Your mouth falls open as your walls are stretched and the burn of the intrusion is soothed by whatever aphrodisiac like secretion pours from his cock.

The egg sack settles heavily in your core and you groan as a second follows.

Your Drider lover purrs sweet words to you as you open your legs more for him. Welcoming his eggs as he continues to pound into you. A loving, but brutal, rhythm so his eggs are left as deep within you as you can take.

Your Drider lover only stops when he feels you can take no more. And he slides out of you slowly. Kissing his way down your body until his fangs trace over your inner thighs.

When his tongue licks over your core, you feel his eggs roll inside you as you squirm under the harsh stimulation.

"You look so beautiful swollen with my brood, my love." He says. Pressing more kisses along your rounded abdomen.

[daytaker]

The Gang React to You Breaking Your Ankle

Lucifer

"This was bound to happen sooner or later."

I mean, really, with all the stunts you play with his brothers and that sorcerer, it's more surprising that you didn't break anything before now. Thank goodness your room is on the ground floor. Now, here is a schedule of where you need to be and when, along with the brother who is your designated companion at all times to ensure you don't get stuck somewhere or fall over and break something else. This is a rotating position so stop fighting all of you!

Mammon

"Holy shit, humans break easy, huh?"

Assuming for the moment that Mammon didn't accidentally get your ankle broken by pulling some stupid stunt for Devilgram clout and involving you in it, he'll be extra careful with you for a little bit. People keep jostling you in the hall! Don't they realize you're basically made of glass and paper?! He'll clear the halls for you to hobble by with your crutches. Yep, you're earning all sorts of new friends.

Leviathan

"E-sports are the best activity when you're injured."

What a convenient excuse to drag you to his room more often than usual for anime marathons and all-night gaming sessions. Like Mammon, he's a little uneasy about this revelation about just how delicate you are, but nobody gets injured playing video games. He's basically protecting you from your next inevitable accident.

Satan

"Stop trying to do so much on your own."

Satan acts extremely annoyed when he sees you trying to hop somewhere without your crutches or lifting anything more than fifteen pounds unaided. Of course, he's just worried about you and expressing that in the most practical way he can. He repeatedly reminds you of advice on improving your recovery rate he found in medical books and the blogs of reputable physical therapists (he always checks into their credentials).

Asmodeus

"Poor thing! Let me spoil you!"

And that's basically what he does, whenever he gets the opportunity. This is a great excuse to get some much needed R&R, in his opinion, so the two of you will be visiting spas and getting massages and you aren't walking anywhere anymore, he is one of the Rulers of the Underworld and you are going to be carried on a litter, so help him Gardonus.

Beelzebub

"You need to eat well to get your strength back."

Prepare yourself for Beel's version of "eating well". You only had three eggs for breakfast? You'll never heal at that rate. Have another six and some bacon. Here's a protein shake. It's designed for demons so it's probably a little grittier than the soft stuff from the human world but it's exactly what you need. No, he doesn't have any science to back this up. Yes, he expects you to clean your plate.

Belphegor

"Of course you got hurt, running around all the time. You should just relax with me."

Little did you know this was all part of Belphegor's master plan...

What a perfect opportunity to spend every second of the day with you. Now that you're forced to sit around and avoid being too active, he has you right where he wants you (specifically, under the blankets with him while he sleeps). He'll remind you at every opportunity that you normally run yourself ragged, and you've earned some time to laze around. And now that you're injured, you have the perfect excuse!

Diavolo

"Your poor human bones... My home is always open to you if you need somewhere more convenient to stay. Please take care of yourself, in the meantime."

Rest assured, he will provide you with all transportation necessary to and from RAD. Or perhaps you would like to try remote classes? Leviathan finds them productive! And if you need anything, please let him know. He'll be in touch about five times a day just to make sure you remember that.

Barbatos

"I am only a phone call away should you require my assistance."

And he will be on call at all hours of the day and night, just in case. You'll be treated like royalty when you visit the castle too, of course. (Even more like royalty than usual, that is.)

Solomon

"Oh, that? Here."

He just magics your ankle better. There, there, little apprentice. He's surprised you didn't do that yourself.

Simeon

"What are you carrying? I'll take it for you. No, I insist!"

Simeon will be a perfect gentleman, helping you up and down stairs and carrying your books and shopping for you. He's very concerned about you somehow re-injuring yourself, and even when you're alright to walk without crutches anymore, he still *really wishes* you'd use them for an extra week or two, just to be on the safe side.

Luke

"You did what to your ankle?! Ankles can do that?!

Congratulations, you've introduced Luke to the concept of broken bones, and he will find the human skeleton creepy and gross for the rest of his life.

--------

@thefandomthings I know this isn't exactly what your ask was, but it's similar, so I hope you like this!

[alwaysurvalentine]

marry me (if I ever get the nerve) - st fic

Based on a prompt from my @steddiebingo 12 Days of Christmas card: 'proposal'

wc: 2.4k | cw: none

enjoy! 💛

~

One.

A crowd is blocking the pathway when Eddie and Steve round the corner. Steve cranes his neck to see around the crowd and then scoffs. 

“What, what is it?” Eddie’s trying to see through the people in front of him, but every time he shifts, they do too. 

“Someone’s proposing in the middle of the park. Can’t even imagine how embarrassed she feels right now. Can you imagine?” 

Steve continues to rant, one hand waving in the air while he vents and the other one tugging Eddie along the edges of the crowd to get past. 

Marriage has been brought up between them before, an idea that seemed nice but somehow far away. Even without saying it, Eddie knew it was something that Steve wanted. It’d been an easy plan from there: save up money for a ring, pop the question, and then marry the fuck out of Steve Harrington. So far all Eddie had done was start saving for a ring. 

He stumbled upon the perfect ring just last month, a simple gold band with the option to engrave the inside. Right now he can’t decide what he wants to put there, but he figures he’s still got some time to think about it.

“Like what if she wants to say no? He’s basically put her in a situation where she has to say yes and then go back on that answer later.”

There’s genuine distress in Steve’s voice at this stranger having to deal with this. Eddie squeezes his hand and offers a placating smile. Up ahead is the cafe they’d been heading towards in the first place. For once there isn’t a line and Eddie lets go of Steve’s hand just to open the door and bow. 

“My love.”

All of the tension building up in Steve leaves him with a roll of his eyes and he smiles when he steps in before Eddie. Even though Steve wasn’t a fan of the couple they saw, Eddie sends a quick thanks because now he knows. 

Absolutely no proposing in a crowded public place.

~

Two.

Light always finds Steve. No matter the time of day, if there’s a ray of sunshine, it’s shining on his boyfriend. It’s one of the first things Eddie noticed about him when they started dating. Now is no exception, sun peeking through their blinds to shine on Steve’s face. 

Steve has barely moved from where he left him this morning, mouth slack with a line of drool leading to a small spot on his pillow. Eddie sets the tray holding their breakfast down for a moment, leaning over to swipe the drool away with his thumb. He rubs his hand on his pants and then rests a gentle hand on Steve’s shoulder.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Steve’s eyebrows furrow when he wakes, eyes blinking open just to squint shut at the light. 

“C’mon, I made breakfast.” 

Steve yawns and smiles softly, rubbing at his eyes. Eddie grabs the breakfast tray again, orange juice sloshing in the glass but not spilling with the movement. The small smile on Steve’s face turns into a full blown grin and he smooths over the blanket when he sits up. 

The plate of breakfast smiles back at him, bacon curving up towards two eyes made of eggs. A gentle hand takes his wrist and Eddie’s tugged down close enough for Steve to press a kiss against his cheek. 

“Thanks, baby.” Sleep still paints Steve’s words, a roughness there only because of their activities from the night before. An image of Steve on his knees, eyes half lidded and tongue hanging out of his mouth flashes into Eddie’s mind. He’s quick to dismiss it though, trying to stay on task. 

Afterall, this breakfast is serving a purpose. Today is going to be the day that Eddie proposes to Steve. All he’s got to do now is pull the ring out of his bedside table and ask the question. Just a small, intimate setting for his Stevie. 

He leans toward his dresser drawer right as the phone starts to ring. 

“Hello?”

“Oh, uh, hi Eddie. Is Steve there?” Max is on the other end of the line, voice tight.

“One sec.” Eddie passes the phone over easily and mouths that it’s Max on the other end. 

“Hey, what’s up?” 

Judging by the face Steve makes at something Max says, this proposal is about to be pushed to another day. When Steve shifts the tray off of his lap and scoots out of bed, Eddie knows he’s right. 

“Woah, hey, it’s okay. I’m glad you called. Give me fifteen and we’ll be there.” Another pause and Steve flashes a grimace in Eddie’s direction. 

“You know he would understand. Okay, okay, yeah, it’ll just be me. See you soon Mayfield.” 

Guilt covers Steve’s face when he turns to Eddie. He tosses the phone back onto the bed and pulls jeans over his boxers. 

“Sorry, Max needs me to help her with something real quick, but I’ll be right back after that. Rain check on breakfast in bed?” 

Disappointment curls in Eddie’s stomach but he nods anyway. “Of course, no worries. Is Red okay?” 

Just as much as the kids are Steve’s in all the ways that matter, Eddie’s adopted them too. If one of them is in trouble, he wants to know. 

“Yeah, just something going on with her mom.”

“Why don’t you bring her back here? I can make some more breakfast and we can all do brunch and watch trash TV.” 

Steve closes the distance between them with a few quick strides, pressing a kiss to the corner of Eddie’s mouth. His hands come to rest on Steve’s hips, keeping him close so he can steal a couple close mouthed kisses before Steve leaves.

“That would be great, I love you.” Another kiss and then Eddie lets him go so Steve can brush his teeth before heading over.

Might need to recruit Robin to help make sure proposing doesn’t get interrupted.

~

Three. 

Tuesdays are date nights.

Eddie doesn’t know if it was on purpose, but the first date he and Steve went on was a Tuesday and now it’s just become tradition. It’s the one day of the week that the gremlins know to let them have their night. 

Tonight, Eddie’s even got Robin helping to run interference. Obviously he had to run this plan by her. They both figured while he’ll be popping the question, doing so over a candlelit dinner without getting on his knee was still lowkey enough for Steve to let it pass. 

(Robin also tried to argue that Steve would be fine with a massive proposal because the only answer he’d have for Eddie would be yes. Her puppy dog eyes aren’t nearly as lethal as Steve’s, so he hadn’t caved.)

Eddie had asked Steve to dress up for dinner tonight for a reservation made at The Grillhouse. They don’t always do fancier dinners, more than happy to dance around the kitchen together instead. Steve had asked what the occasion was and squinted skeptically when Eddie stuttered that he had big news he was excited to share. Despite all of his practice as a DM, he still can’t lie to save his life. Luckily, Steve had dropped it and shifted the focus to a story from work. 

Now Eddie finds his palms sweaty, empty plates sitting between them. This is his window.

“Stevie?”

His boyfriend tilts his head to the side, humming quietly to show he’s listening.

“I brought you to dinner saying I had some big news to share. But really, that news couldn’t be possible without you.” 

Steve’s face softens and he reaches across the table to take one of Eddie’s hands. They sit like that for a moment, Eddie swallowing before reaching into his coat pocket to grab the ring. 

The pocket is kind of deep and all he feels is fabric so he digs in a little further. Still, all he feels is the cotton lining against his fingers. 

And then he realizes. 

He forgot the ring.

He forgot the ring. What is he supposed to tell Steve now?

“I’ve decided to send some of me and the guys’ tapes to some producers.” 

The smile on Steve’s face is bright enough to challenge the sun and Eddie knows he’ll be sending out those tapes this week just so that he hasn’t lied to the man in front of him.

“Holy shit!” A couple of people swivel their heads at the sudden exclamation but Steve doesn’t pay them any mind, raising his glass to Eddie. Never one to leave Steve hanging, he’s quick to lift his own glass for Steve’s toast.

“Congratulations, baby, I’m so proud of you!”

Hot tip: don’t forget the ring.

~

Four.

Steve’s bopping his head as he walks through the kitchen. Everyone’s just cleared out of the apartment after spending the night. He hasn’t been able to convince Steve to play D&D, but it doesn’t mean his boyfriend doesn’t love any opportunity to host. Every couple of weeks their apartment is flooded with the full group, pizza for dinner and then Steve pulls out all of the stops for brunch the next day. 

There’s a pile of dishes waiting to be washed in the sink and a couple of pans left to cool on top of the stove, but like always - Steve’s turned on the radio first. Which works perfectly with Eddie’s plan. 

He’d called the radio station earlier in the week and asked them to play their song so he could propose to the love of his life. The girl on the other end had squealed at the request and let Eddie know she’d email with the time they’d be able to put it into the show. 

When he glances over to check the time, he’s surprised to see that there’s only a a couple of minutes to wait until their song is queued up. He’s got just enough time to run upstairs to grab the ring and then he’ll finally be able to ask. Steve’s just grabbing the pans off of the stove to move them towards the sink when Eddie steps out of the kitchen. 

It seems oddly quiet when Eddie makes it downstairs. Maybe it’s just because of how loud it was last night and this morning.Mumbled cursing welcomes him back into the kitchen and Eddie sees the reason behind the quiet. Their radio is currently cradled in Steve’s hands, eyes locked in on the different dials like it’ll suddenly start working if he looks disappointed enough. 

“Steve?” 

The look of horror on Steve’s face has Eddie chuckling as he walks over.

“I broke the radio.” Genuine heartbreak colors Steve’s words and Eddie takes the radio from his hands with a smile.

“That’s okay, looks like it got some water on it. Did something splash out of the sink?” Steve nods, eyes focused on the radio in Eddie’s hands. 

From what Eddie can tell, they might have to just replace the whole thing, somehow Steve’s managed to get the entirety of the speakers wet. His proposal might’ve been foiled again, but at least he gets a huff of a laugh when he rolls up his invisible sleeves to wash the dishes, bumping Steve out of the way. 

Alright, maybe the radio thing was a little complicated, time to regroup.

~

Plus One.

“Wayne, I feel like I’m losing my mind.” 

His uncle just laughs from his side of the table, coffee cup lifted to his mouth despite the steam rising above it. 

“No, I mean it. I’ve tried proposing to him so many times but I keep messing it up!” Eddie runs a hand through his hair and has to stop for a moment when a ring tugs on his curls. The chipped mug in Wayne’s hand gets set down and he leans back, eyes squinted in a smile while he looks Eddie over.

“Alright, let me get this straight. You wanna propose to your boy?” Eddie nods. “Why don’t you just ask him, plain and simple?” 

“Oh, yeah, just ask him plain and simple. Because that’s totally easy. Have you met him?”

Wayne raises a brow, unimpressed at Eddie’s dramatics. 

“I just want it to be perfect, Uncle Wayne. What if this is like the universe telling me not to do it? Everything keeps going wrong…”

Another sip of coffee and then Wayne leans forward, elbows on the table. “Listen here, you love him?”

“Of course I do.”

“And he loves you?”

Eddie can feel the blush when it spreads across his cheeks. 

“He tells me all the time.” 

“Then I think no matter how you ask him, the only answer he’s going to say is yes. Knowing you two, you could just slide the ring on his finger and Steve would have the wedding planned in a week. What’s really holding you back?” 

Damn Wayne for knowing him so well. 

This answer doesn’t come as easy, dread building in Eddie’s gut while he tries to figure out the best answer. If he voices this and Wayne agrees, he’ll probably never recover.

“C’mon, spit it out.” 

“Whatifhedoesn’tthinkI’mworthbeingstuckwithfortherestofourlives?”

Another unimpressed stare, lips pursed at Eddie’s quick speech.

“Just, what if he doesn’t think it’s worth it? Being stuck with me forever?”

“Eddie, listen up, and listen good. No such thing as being stuck with you. I can tell that he adores you, knew as soon as I saw the two of you together. Just because your old man,” and Wayne pauses when Eddie’s head snaps up, “chose to ignore the gift you are, doesn’t mean other people will. I’ve been lucky enough to see you grow from that scrawny kid angry at the world to the man I see now. You’ve got your own family now, one you built all on your own, and not a single one of them feels like they’re stuck with you. Y’hear me?” 

Eddie wants to feel embarrassed at the tears in his eyes, but instead all he feels is warmth all over - loved. He jumps up and scoots into Wayne’s side of the booth, throwing his arms around the older man’s neck just like he did as a kid. When he backs up, Wayne’s eyes look a little teary themselves.

“Alright, let’s go, I gotta get ready for work.”

(When they get back to the trailer, Eddie opens the door to his own makeshift family crowded around the living room. It takes a moment to take it all in, streamers hanging from the ceiling, balloons all over the floor, and then Steve on one knee with a ring held out. 

It’s an easy yes.)

[spiderfunkz]

HYUN-JU x CHUBBY!READER

pairings. cho hyun-ju x f!reader

author's note: i hope i did this request justice!! i have a few more drafts to upload😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 likes and reblogs help boost my writing and are very appreciated.

▸ hyun-ju isn't shy nor afraid to show you off to her friends, to let them see what a beautiful person you truly are. inside and out. she loves seeing you become more comfortable and confident, that's her girl. and plus, she loves it when you get flustered sometimes. it's cute.

▸ she's a great listener, as said before. she's empathetic and emotionally intelligent. she's quick to reassure you when you feel down. she's incredibly good with her words, they always make you feel more relaxed and calm. she'll rub your back and play with your hair as you talk.

▸ hyun-ju believes that an 'ideal body' is a body you're comfortable in. she would never cross your boundaries. she always supports your goals and accomplishments, as small as they can be, she's still proud. your celebrations are hers too. she doesn't care about societal standards, as long as you're happy and healthy, she'll love you no matter what.

▸ she compliments you all the time! she tells you how perfect your curves are, how she loves every single part of you. hyun-ju states that beauty and love come in all shapes and sizes.

▸ when you're feeling self conscious or insecure, hyun-ju knows how to softly handle it. she isn't unknown to the struggles of being uncomfortable or upset with your own body. she's experienced it herself. you two can have deep talks about it without any judgement, she's here for you, and you're here for her.

▸ she's very affectionate. she loves cuddling with you, cupping your cheeks, holding and caressing your thigh while you're in the passenger seat. she always makes sure you feel loved and valued.

▸ hyun-ju is a great cook. i just know it. she gives you the first bite in every meal and occasionally asks for feedback. she makes sure you're well fed and eat delicious meals all day! besides, you two make a great pair in the kitchen, always laughing, cracking jokes and eggs.

▸ loves it when you dress up. will shower you with flattering remarks and praise. "you look so beautiful. so gorgeous. i'm so lucky to be with the most beautiful angel ever. tell me, did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" and obviously, she'll throw in a cheesy pick up line to get a giggle out of you.

▸ or you know, when you leave her completely speechless, she just utters "i could marry you right now."

▸ hyun-ju is the type of girlfriend to bring you flowers every tuesday. with a note to keep you motivated throughout the next week. you've received so many, you collect all the notes and keep it in a small box. when hyun-ju's not at home, you like to read it.

▸ she's always down for any activity you want to do. long walks, short walks, a nice car ride around the city, and even a trip to the gym.

▸ hyun-ju goes to the gym often, i mean, she's quite buff. she loves to coach you and help you adapt to the surroundings. she always helps you when you're struggling with an equipment or when you need to fix your form.

▸ self-love and self-care is very important to her. she loves days where you just stay at home, do skin care together, baths, and put on the comfiest of clothes. preferably, she'll borrow your sweaters as it provides the most warmth, comfort, and your scent is just addicting.

▸ she isn't afraid to stand up for you. she can fight and she knows it. though, she'll only fight when necessary. her words are strong too, her tone is tough and stern. she's very protective of you.

▸ she knows how to make you feel safe. after all, you're her safe space. she can and will take care of you, making sure your wants or needs are fulfilled. she can ask you about it, but trust, hyun-ju always knows what you want or need. she calls it 'girlfriend intuition'

▸ i know i've repeated countless times that hyun-ju's love language is acts of service, but you know what else is? words of affirmation and quality time. these play such a part in your relationship and you couldn't be anymore grateful to have hyun-ju.

▸ you're just so perfect in her eyes. hyun-ju is just so ridiculously in love with you.

[thalthanmadanus]

Draco is THE antagonist of the story and I'm lowkey sick of people diminishing his character's importance in the story and to Harry's character development. so I'm writing an essay about how Draco as a character is fucking important especially his antagonistic arc

💅

1. The crumbs:

First of all, and this doesn't get mentioned often, Draco is the first magical kid Harry meets his age.

Not only that, he is our first glimpse at two major upcoming conflicts in the series: Blood Supremacy, and Hogwarts houses.

Draco plays the important role of the narrative foil to Harry. (even wikipedia references them in the "foil" page)

Draco's main function as a character is to showcase Harry's best traits, through being his most worst. Unlike, Snape and Voldemort, Draco is more concerned with creating internal conflicts for Harry than external ones.

He is the character that says mudblood the most, with the frequency decreasing every book. He is the character that plays with/teases/bullies the psychological vulnerabilities of the trio (specifically Ron and Harry). He is one of the few characters that give rational criticism (against Hagrid, calling out the trio dynamic..) that, taken outside the keyframe imposed by the author, can showcase the flaws in Harry's views and his bias. He is also the only character that shows moral self-reflection that isn't motivated by either a reward or "love", which not only serves as character development for Draco but for Harry too who grows to sympathize with Draco, a small breakup from his fixed binary morality.

Draco is also a very active character. His actions and choices affect the plot. The majority of the first book literally happens because of his dumbass. In the second book, he is our first introduction to the word mudblood, he's also the main suspect to the two main mysteries. If Draco wasn't such a bitchass, would buckbeak gave been in said place for Harry to use him to save Sirius?

He is important narratively but what interests me is his importance to Harry's arc.

What separates Draco from other antagonists is that he creates internal conflicts that stem from his personal conflicts with Harry, because of Harry as a person. Not because Harry's the chosen one standing in his way, not because Harry's lily or James's son. Because Harry's Harry. and this exchange is mutual.

Their personal dynamic is set up in their first meeting. Harry, upon hearing two sentences from Draco, reacts negatively because of deeply personal issues (Dudley). I don't think Harry reacts personally to any other characters the way he did with Draco? Considering that Draco wasn't even hostile in his first sentences.

While Draco targets both Harry and Ron, there's a clear difference in how Draco bullies them both but also how Harry and Ron perceive Draco.

Draco is crueler on Ron. And his bullying doesn't feel personal, just apathetic, humiliating and mean. It feels like Draco is more cruel on Ron because Harry chose Ron over him and it shows by Draco coming back every now and then searching for Harry's compartment, trying to egg him, to look for a way that will make Harry regret rejecting Draco.

About Harry & Ron perception about Draco, it's showcased in the second book by the two main major events Draco was suspected in

1. Opening CoS. It was Ron who suspected Draco for this, not Harry. Ron suspects Draco for an action that affects everyone in the school.

2. Sending Dobby. Harry suspects that it was Draco that sent Dobby to prevent Harry from coming to school. Harry suspects Draco of an action that targets him specifically, and his reason of suspect? "because Malfoy hates me". It's personal.

Another instance of Harry making every issue personal with Draco: In the fifth book, after the sorting hat's song about houses unity

'And it wants all the houses to be friends?' said Harry, looking over at the Slytherin table,where Draco Malfoy was holding court. 'Fat chance. '

I'm also pretty sure the reason why Harry chooses not to be in Slytherin was 50% because Draco got sorted into Slytherin. the other 50% being Hagrid telling him that Slythering are eviiil. Btw a conversation that wouldn't have happened if Draco hadn't brought up houses in their first meeting.

Like I said, most of the plot in the first book goes back to Draco.

My main point is that the relationship between Harry and Draco as characters is beyond goals, motives, obstacles, moral causes bla bal bla, and is on the spectrum of "I took that personally".

2. the main plate:

Draco transitioned in the sixth book from an antagonist to a "side character" with a life. His role as character no longer functioned by his connection to Harry.

and this is where a flip of dynamic happened, where Harry became the antagonist to Draco's arc.

He's the one following him. He's the one egging him on (in the first 5 books,it was always Draco starting conversations with Harry, but in the sixth book, it's mostly Harry who started conversations with Draco) He's the one hurting him (Sectumsempra) (even on accident). He's the one trying to create obstacles to Draco's goal.

and why is that? why was Harry so obsessed with Draco?

If it were because of a moral righteousness, then why not focusing on Snape who's probably more suspicious? like who cares about Draco.. yeah he's sus but Dumbledore says it's not important..

This line of thought is more Ron and Hermione because they don't share the kind of deep personal issues towards Draco like Harry does.

so why is harry so obsessed?

"Harry, knowing and loathing Malfoy, was sure the reason could not be innocent."

This line in the sixth book explains it. Harry knows and loathes Draco with more emphasis on *knowing*.

Harry admits that he knows Malfoy, of course the fruit of labor of staring at Draco for five years, but why does he even stare in the first place? Because Harry is curious about Draco.

In comparison with Snape and Voldemort, our other antagonists,  Harry doesn't show the same enthusiastic curiosity for them. At least not the same way he does with Draco. Most of what we know about Snape and Voldemort are shown through external ways. Either their memories of memories of other people about them. Their character arcs happen outside Harry's vision,  either in the past or in a memory. It's not Harry who seeks those information. They come to him.

Draco, on the hand, most if not all of his character development happens in front of Harry. From his bullshit in the five years to him crying in the bathroom, him lowering his wand, him lying in the Manor. even the visions that Harry sees through Voldemort about Draco torturing Rowle, are happening in the present. Draco's character development is laid bare in front of Harry. 

but back to his obsession in the sixth book, it's because Harry knows Draco so well that not only he's right about him being a DE, but "Malfoy being up to something" is not something new to Harry, it's actually a normal thing that kept happening for 5 years of his life. Malfoy was always up to smtg. It's this idea of a normality that fuels like a new purpose in life for Harry after being wrecked by Sirius' death. Not only the mystery tingles his detective neurons, he knows he's right about Draco which only fuels his persistence. Draco being a person he hates also downplays the guilt/shame Harry could feel while stalking him. like I'm sorry but Harry was shameless and embarassing the whole year. The way Hermione and Ron looked at him sometimes so funny, also Hermione distancing herself from Harry when he talked to McG about Draco like "idk this person". Harry was kinda giving pre-HBP Draco vibes lowkey.

This shows that Harry himself is motivated by personal feelings (though negative) as an antagonist to Draco's arc himself.

And the important point here is the flip of dynamics. Draco is not just a mere side character in Harry's life. If anything, the moment he tries to become a side character with his is own arc, Harry is forcing himself in it. Because they're both foils to each other. It doesn't work on just one side.

The dessert:

The dynamic completely evolves again with the end of HBP as Draco gains a moral sense and Harry watching Draco's character development unfolding gains a more nuanced view than his old black/white one.

In DH, Draco and Harry are not antagonists anymore to each other. Draco and Harry are kind of heroes to each other?? as they both try to save each other like two times.

A lot of people downplay Draco's lie in the Manor, comparing it to Dudley's "You're not a waste of space" as "character development" moment.

bruh.

Dudley said that after Harry saved him. Draco literally was the one who took the initiative to lie, expecting no reward, literally had more to lose by lying, he was literally acting against his own interests, his family's life was in danger!!! Harry saved Draco after Draco saved him.

also Draco's character development started with him lowering his wand.

but back to being each other heroes. Our other comparison is Ron who is in both situations where Harry saves Draco but he's the one reacting negatively and complainig about them saving Draco, not Harry. Which is funny because Ron says "we saved you" but in both cases it's Harry who's doing the saving and Ron is  just there witnessing, and again I don't think he still realizes what was happening since the sixth year. He thinks his hostile feelings towards Draco are the same ones Harry has. That they're similar. Ron.. Harry literally almost risked your life to save Draco.

It also speaks of character development from Harry that he's not reacting negatively anymore towards Draco. He grew out of it. Like Draco also was starting to grow out of his toxic ideologies.

They're both growing up simultaneously.

And Draco was The first wizard kid Harry talked to (with no precognition or insidious motive)

Draco was the first character who he flew with

Draco was the first character who he dueled with

and so in DH,

Draco was the first character who tried to help Harry with no selfish motive

Draco was the first character that flew with Harry on the same broom (at least I think so?)

Draco was the first and only character whose wand Harry dueled with against Voldemort and won.

I wish I could write more. About Sectumsempra. About wand connection. but I'm tired.

[bumblebeeappletree]

Every once in a while I’ll see some posts about everyone should become vegan in order to help the environment. And that… sounds kinda rude. I’m sure they don’t mean to come off that way but like, humans are omnivores. Yes there are people who won’t have any animal products be it meat or otherwise either due to personal beliefs or because their body physically cannot handle it, and that’s okay! You don’t have to change your diet to include those products if you don’t want to or you physically can’t.

But there’s indigenous communities that hunt and farm animals sustainably and have been doing so for generations. And these animals are a primary source of food for them. Look to the bison of North America. The settlers nearly caused an extinction as a part of a genocide. Because once the Bison were gone it caused an even sharper decline of the indigenous population. Now thankfully Bison did not go extinct and are actively being shared with other groups across America.

Now if we look outside of indigenous communities we have people who are doing sustainable farming as well as hunting. We have hunting seasons for a reason, mostly because we killed a lot of the predators. As any hunter and they will tell you how bad the deer population can get. (Also America has this whole thing about bird feathers and bird hunting, like it was bad until they laid down some laws. People went absolutely nuts on having feathers be a part of fashion like holy cow.)

We’re slowly getting better with having gardens and vertical farms within cities, and there’s some laws on being able to have a chicken or two at your house or what-have-you in the city for some eggs. (Or maybe some quails since they’re smaller than chickens it’s something that you’d might have to check in your area.) Maybe you would be able to raise some honey bees or rent them out because each honey tastes different from different plants. But ultimately when it comes to meat or cheese? Go to your local farmers. Go to farmers markets, meet with the people there, become friends, go actively check out their farm. See how the animal lives are and if the farmer is willing, talk to them about sustainable agriculture. See what they can change if they’re willing. Support indigenous communities and buy their food and products, especially if you’re close enough that the food won’t spoil on its way to you. (Like imagine living in Texas and you want whale meat from Alaska and you buy it from an indigenous community. I would imagine that would be pretty hard to get.)

Either way everything dies in the end. Do we shame scavengers for eating corpses they found before it could rot and spread disease? Do we shame the animals that hunt other animals to survive? Yes factory farming should no longer exist. So let’s give the animals the best life we can give them. If there’s babies born that the farmer doesn’t want, give them away to someone who wants them as a pet. Or someone who wants to raise them for something else. Not everyone can raise animals for their meat. I know I can’t I would get to emotionally attached. I’d only be able to raise them for their eggs and milk.

Yeah this was pretty much thrown together, and I just wanted to say my thoughts and throw them into the void. If you have some examples of sustainable farming/agriculture, please share them because while I got some stuff I posted from YouTube, I’m still interested to see what stuff I might’ve missed!

[thebowieconstricker]

Sweet Mornings

Lucifer Morningstar x reader oneshot

masterlist link

Request: Them cooking together and it ending in either him cuddling her so much that they forget about the food and it burns, or baking and that ends in a food fight and kisses. Bonus points, if it burns down the Hotels kitchen and Charlie freaks out.

Okay so this is the CUTEST FREAKING THING EVER??? Love this request sm sorry it took a million years whoops lol enjoy

Tags: Literally just pure fluff, pancakes, kinda language, whipped-cream-related violence, gender neutral reader

~~~

Warm, soft mornings in bed with your beloved partner were becoming more common ever since you and Lucifer had become a couple. Not only was he excellent at cuddles, but his wings made the most delightful blankets to fall asleep under. On this particular morning, you were slowly waking up, and the first thing you noticed was the gentle grip Lucifer had on your form, clinging to your waist even in his sleep. You glanced at the clock to your right as you laid on your back and softly giggled. It was 3:00 in the morning, aka the “devil’s hour”, as some called it, and here he was, asleep in your shared bed. You shifted a bit to stretch and Lucifer made a small noise.

“I’m just moving a bit.” You whispered, bringing up a hand to brush through his blonde locks.

“Mmm, nah, just stay here.” He reached his arm back over your stomach and grabbed your hip, pulling you against his side.

You smiled affectionately, and while you looked at his quite literally angelic face, you thought of an idea.

“Hey, Luci… you wanna make pancakes?”

His eyes sprang open and his eyebrows shot up. A wide grin broke out on his face and quicker than you could blink, he had pulled both you and himself up and off the bed. With a snap of his fingers, the two of you were dressed in comfortable robes with silly slippers. He wore a bright yellow pair with duck faces, because of course he did. Your slippers were of your favorite animal, which was one of the many gifts Lucifer had given you.

With a wave of his hand, Lucifer had magically transported the two of you to the kitchen downstairs. It was a rather large kitchen, plenty of shelves and cabinets stocked with ingredients. You adjusted your robe and began to move towards one of the cupboards when you felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around your torso. Following close behind was the warm face of your lover, nuzzling into the back of your neck.

“Honey, we can’t cuddle and make pancakes.” You rolled your eyes with a smile on your face. You could hear the smirk in his voice as he replied, “Who says we can’t?”

He snapped once more and suddenly, all of your necessary materials and ingredients appeared on the kitchen island.

“There ya go, now you’ve just gotta stand there.”

You laughed and shuffled to the island.

You quickly realized that this was going to be far more difficult than you originally anticipated. For some reason, Lucifer was determined to make the simple activity of pancake-making as tedious as possible for you. When you measured the flour, he insisted that you had poured too much, leading you to re-measure six times. The eggs that you cracked always had a bit of shell in them, and instead of helping, Lucifer would just magic you more. “I’ll keep my arms right here, thank you.” He said from behind you. He did, however, beg you to add more sugar. You finally had to put your foot down after the 3rd empty bag. Why did you trust his horrible advice? No one knows, but according to legend, he apparently knows what he’s doing when it comes to pancakes.

After you had finally created some kind of batter, you struggled over to the oven with Lucifer’s arms still around you. You carefully poured the mixtures onto the skillet after putting the eye on the ‘high’ setting, and with the warm, sweet smells from the food and the demon snuggling your back, you were starting to get pretty sleepy.

That’s when you noticed it. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw that Lucifer had magicked some whipped cream in a can. Obviously, for the purpose of a topping, but you had other plans. You were sure that Lucifer’s eyes were closed behind you (you had even heard him snore a couple of times). Stealthily, you reached for the whipped cream and uncapped the can. You shook it and poured a bit into your mouth, just for fun. Then, you made your real move. You sprayed a good amount on your hand and put the can down.

“Hey, Luci, is it brown enough?” You asked innocently.

“Hmm..? I uh-“ He rubbed his eyes behind you and leaned over your shoulder to take a look at your pancake. “Yeah, you should probably flip-“

You swung your hand around and threw the whipped cream so it landed squarely on his face.

“AH-“

Lucifer’s arms eat go from your waist as he stumbled backwards in shock. His arms reached for his face to feel the whipped cream. Realizing what it was, he smiled wickedly as a forked licked the sweets off his hand.

“Oh, you have no idea who you just fucked.”

You doubled over as you cried with laughter at the sight of him, and laughed even more at that statement.

“It’s- it’s fucked with, Luci-“

Suddenly, whipped cream had landed on your face, splattering on your robe. You heard his musical laughter in front of you and, just like that, it was on.

Lucifer had summoned cans and cans of whipped cream on either of your sides and the two of you ducked behind and hopped over the kitchen island, throwing whipped cream at each other and throwing any other food you could find in the kitchen. You found a sleeve of graham crackers and started chucking those at some point while Lucifer grabbed some of his fire breathing ducks to melt the sugary ammo before it hit him. You took one of your shoes off and began chasing him with it, half laughing and half threatening him, when he finally, finally, held up a white napkin, and called, “I surrender!”

You kept laughing as you tackled him in a hug, the two of you falling to the ground.

“I’m sorry, Luci, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You playfully said to him.

“Hurt? I’m offended you think I could even get hurt-“

“Then why’d you surrender?”

His arms snaked around your waist once again and he smirked.

“I guess I missed ya.”

You rolled your eyes and kissed him swiftly, the two of you too wrapped up in each other to care about the hectic state of the kitchen. Your hand went to his hair and carefully caressed it, trying to tidying it a bit. When you finally broke away, he looked at you breathlessly.

“Don’t get so excited there, you just had some whipped cream on your face.” You said to him, smiling.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow and another can appeared in his hand, spraying some on his lips without missing a beat.

“You dork.” You said, and kissed him again.

Then, suddenly, a voice from across the room.

“OH MY GOSH GUYS THERE’S A FIRE VAGGIE GET THE EXTINGUISHER-“

So, the two of you may have forgotten about the pancakes.

[ollieolliewrld]

HSR Men in Relationships 1.5 (SFW)

Relationship headcanons for Aventurine, Gallagher, and Sunday <3

0.7k words

Aventurine

❥A relationship with him is a slow-build 

❥Everything is a game to him and he will always win

❥When he meets you he is trying to get you to join in on one of his plans 

❥He sweet-talks you and offers a big payout if you join him but you refuse

❥Usually, he would call it a loss and move on but there was something about you that he couldn’t get out of his head

❥Aventurine knew he had to try again so a few days later he came back to you with a new approach

❥When he saw you again his breath got caught in his throat, his usual cool-headedness was gone, and for the first time in forever he was nervous

❥He didn’t want you to say no to him and he did not want this to be a business interaction

❥Instead, he wanted to know your middle name and how you liked your eggs

❥Looking at you from a distance he caught himself imagining a world where you were with him laughing and holding him 

❥You approaching him pulled him out of this as he now had to face the music

❥To his surprise you had your own business offer, one he couldn’t refuse

❥Since then you two have kept a playful and loving relationship where he treasures you and places you as a priority over any level of money or ICP business

❥You are his reason for living 

Gallagher

❥This man would steal the moon for you

❥You have brought so much light and joy into his life that he wants to find a way to repay you

❥He is a very classic boyfriend, you have not opened a door for yourself since you met him, and you have been given your own supply of his clothes

❥Gallagher takes the best care of you as he views you as an extension of himself 

❥What bothers you bothers him, any issue you have no matter how big or small will be dealt with 

❥Making you as happy as possible is what he aims for and nothing makes him happier than seeing you safe 

❥He’s the type of lover that will see you upset one day and come back with a puppy/kitten

❥ADORES cuddling with you (bonus if the new pet is there too) 

❥He comes home so drained sometimes that being able to enjoy lying with your head on his chest fixes everything

❥At night you like to trace the scars on his arms

❥You have never asked where they came from but you can imagine

❥You coming into his life is the best thing that has ever happened to him, he truly could not see a world where you two were not together

Sunday

❥Life for Sunday has always been very work forward trying to keep up the family’s image at all times

❥When he started to court you he drew out clear boundaries 

❥Never would he put you at risk and you were never to be involved in the family’s business

❥While he wants to share everything with you there are too many secrets that could hurt you so he keeps them to himself

❥With everything Sunday does he looks out for your safety 

❥No matter what is going on he remembers the little things like your favorite type of tea that can only be bought at a tea shop once every season

❥Everything must be perfect and you are perfect to him, he is going to do what what needs to be done to ensure your happiness and safety

❥He does not think you are helpless but why would he ever let anything happen to his love?

❥Sunday really enjoys planning dates with you

❥Any opportunity he can get to shower you in affection he is going to take 

❥Dates with him range from casual and meaningful to highly detailed and elaborate 

❥No matter the location or activity he puts his heart into it making sure you know how he feels about you

[andy-wm]

AYS Behind the scenes: behind the paywall

Now that the Disney+ episodes are complete (sob), my attention is firmly fixed on my mailbox as I wait impatiently for the AYS photobook and QR code.

I was always going to buy the Jikook photobook, even though I doubt there will be much we haven't already seen in the episodes. But the inclusion of the QR code was the clincher.

I must admit, Hybe locking up the behind the scenes for AYS was not on my bingo sheet.

Making behind/additional clips available on Bangtan TV would have been more in line with their regular MO. We don't generally have to pay for what really amounts to outtakes.

Okay, yes, we have to pay for behind cuts of Run BTS, but the actual episodes are free. With everything else the behind clips are included when you buy the series (I'm thinking of BV, ITS, and concert boxed sets).

In fact I can't think of any other time a behind/ bonus clip hasn't been available to fans who pay for the main content.

Maybe it is because Hybe was only contracted to deliver 8 episodes to Disney+ and the price was fixed. Maybe they saw an easy way to make the series more profitable.

We know they will take any opportunity to lighten our wallets.

But I think there's more to it

Let's talk business:

If Hybe wanted to make money from this, having the sale point directly on Weverse would make more sense. That way anyone could buy it any time without having to buy the photobook as well. Even if they charged just a few $$ for these extra clips, the return could be substantial over time. Long tail products can be very lucrative and Hybe clearly knows this - they have heaps of old footage for sale on Weverse. Since they're hosting the content already, it makes sense to keep that 'buy now' button active and let the dollars trickle in.

So why reduce the potential pool of buyers? Why limit this to those who buy the photobook??

Well, let's consider who is going to buy the photobook?

Who is going to fork out US$28 plus postage for a keepsake of these two on their third honeymoon?

I doubt OT7 ARMYs would buy it. Even ARMYs who bias JM or JK - if they aren't part of the SGMB they probably don't want it either.

Solos sure as hell don't want it - they are probably wishing the whole thing never happened... sucks to be them haha

Who really wants to see these two living their best lives together?

We do!

And by we, I mean Jikook supporters.

People who want to see more of this:

and this

And this

We are the people who will buy this photobook (and probably never look at it more than once, let's be honest)

But let's get back to the topic at hand....

The photobook/behind combo seems like a chicken/egg situation to me.

Which came first - as a concept - the photobook or the behind clips?

Did they decide to offer a photobook, and then think of adding the extra footage to make it more appealing?

Or vice versa?

Did they decide to make the behind clips, and think of the photobook afterwards?

Hard to say, since behind clips have always been a thing and recently Hybe is putting out photobooks for everything.

But I think I have a fair idea

Consider the price point for this photobook - it's the same price as most of the others produced recently: +-US$28.

AYS photobook & behind is the same price as the Photo-Folios, Tae's Type 1 (magazine version) photobook, and the Beyond The Stage photobook

🗣 So they aren't charging any extra for the behind footage?

No, they aren't. They're basically giving it to the buyers of the photobook as a gift.

🗣 Could they be making money off it?

Yes, the could.

Long tail, remember?

Looking at the profit-making potential, it makes WAY more sense for Hybe to offer the behind footage on Weverse for a few meagre dollars and... wait for their ship to come in...

See what I did there? hahahhaha (laughing by myself)

They really aren't making any money off this!

how unlike Hybe...

So why go to the effort of setting up QR codes and putting it behind a paywall? It costs money to host content this way. They are in fact SPENDING money to bring us this footage.

Not only through the hosting costs there are also production costs to consider.

Wouldn't it make more sense to just freely share it with ARMY via Bangtan TV? Or not release it at all?

Yes, it would...

So there's only one logical answer...

Hybe has chosen to make the content available - but also make it just that little bit more difficult to access.

This whole exercise seems to be about releasing additional footage without releasing it to the general public. It's being shared specifically with those of us who support them.

Does that mean we'll see slightly more personal content?

Maybe it's a little more revealing of their undeniable bond and their hot chemistry...?

Whatever they contain, these behind clips are definitely for a limited audience - and purposefully so.

The only reason for it, that I can think of, is to safeguard Jimin and Jungkook from too much scrutiny and criticism - from within the fandom (unfortunately) and outside of it.

We will find out in a few days I guess.

In the meantime, I'm camped out by my mailbox