#disaster utensils

[zibiscusloon]

Feathered Fiends who can’t Flirt

[zibiscusloon]

👉👈 👀 please-

Send “📂“ for a random yet completely useless headcanon I have

[worshipthecrow]

"Meeting the parents"

Summary: You received a call from your mother while you were with Sylus, your parents want to meet your boyfriend.

Content: Sylusx Female! Reader, Reader is exaggerating the situation in her head, death threats.

A/n: I introduced Sylus to my parents with the tete-a-tete function and more or less the things that happened are portrayed here, some comments were made after explaining them the whole game and stuff. English is not my first language, if you find any mistakes, let me know so I can correct them.

One, two, three breaths you took before opening the door and stepping inside with your heart pounding in your chest and cold sweat on your back, Sylus was waiting for you to return from your phone call.

His shirt half open and his lips swollen from the long kissing session would be a hot and inviting sight if it weren’t for your mother’s voice booming in your brain.

We want to meet him, you’ve been with him for how long? A year? And you still haven’t brought him home, if that was a lie don’t worry honey, my friend’s son is still single and very handsome.

Your mother’s playful tone made you frown, you exchanged a few more words and hung up the phone.

He smiled sideways at you, waiting for you to sit back on his lap to continue.

“Hey…” you didn’t let him finish when the words came out of your mouth like a suppressed cough, fast and violent “

“My parents want to meet you”

You noticed the slight change in his gaze and posture, but then he relaxed again, held out his hand for you to take, which you did without thinking because of habit, and making you sit on his lap, tangling his finger in a lock of your hair.

“When?” a simple question, you expected more, maybe nervousness, maybe that he would refuse, but there was only one question.

Why don’t you bring him tonight? I’m making pork ribs, your favorite, it would be a good time to meet him.

It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t a suggestion, it was an order said sweetly with a little threat.

“Tonight” you whispered, he hummed caressing the skin on your arm, nervousness didn’t let you enjoy the sweet touch.

“All right, if that’s what you want, sweetie” you let out a heavy sigh you didn’t know you were holding in.

And for the rest of the afternoon, it was you, stressed to the bone that what would happen in this inevitable disaster, someone would die, and you hoped it would be you, just to get away from this situation.

Sylus took you to your parents’ house on his motorcycle, you would have preferred to go by car, taking advantage of the traffic to get ready or to fake an emergency, but no, the way was too short and fast and now that you were in front of the door you wanted to vomit your guts on the floor.

It was he who rang the doorbell, just long enough to be heard but not annoying, the door was opened by your mother, the image was endearing, the chubby little woman greeted the two of you with a sweet smile letting you in, she still had her apron on, wet and you guessed she was washing the utensils she used to cook.

Your father was in the living room, you noticed the tiny sauce stain on his shoe, and you knew that today, of all days, would be the worst day of your life, nothing good came out of it when your father was helping your mother cook.

Your mother called everyone to the dining room, your stomach was doing somersaults, you walked stiffly to your seat, Sylus, out of habit, opened the chair for you to sit down and then sat next to you.

Your mother served your plate first, as always, the smell of the ribs, that delicious smell that always made your mouth water made you feel the worst nausea you had ever experienced in your life.

You watched her prepare your father’s dish, and the familiar fight of “one more” “no, the doctor said to watch your cholesterol” took some of the tension out of the situation, but knowing that the next dish to be served would be Sylus’ only reminded you of the chaos that was about to unfold, you prayed to any god that was willing to listen to you even though you had never been devoted to any of them.

Your mother took the plate placed two ribs and you held your breath as your mom’s voice came through your ears like the scream of a banshee.

“So, Sylus, what do you do for a living?” the smack of the mashed potatoes against the plate almost made you squeal.

“I run a family-owned business that covers a range of services and offers various products. We deliver fruit and even sell state-of-the-art technology and I work with a lot of talented individuals. If you’reinterested, I’d be happy to discuss it in more detail another time.”

You buried your fingernails in your thigh, the way your father bit into the rib meat made your heart stop for a second and the look on your mother’s face didn’t make you feel any better either, you slowly chewed the tender juicy meat, feeling it like lead in your mouth.

“And what do you do in your spare time?” your father’s piercing gaze said he wanted to give him a shot between the eyebrows, too bad that wouldn’t work, you knew it too well.

“My hobbies are very simple. I collect vynil records, play the organ, and occasionally sing. According to your daughter, my singing isn’t too bad.” The sideways smile made you blush as you shoved mashed potatoes in your mouth and avoided the zucchini from the boiled vegetables. “Do you like to sing? If so. You’re always welcome to visit my private karaoke bar.”

“Do you live with anyone? Your family?”

You bit into the carrot so hard that your teeth hurt.

“I live alone and I have a relatively flexible schedule” you blushed and drank from your pomegranate juice as your mother looked sideways at you, you knew what was going through her head. “I stay at my base most of the time. Otherwise, I’m in a hotel for business meetings or go to my private ranch when I need to unwind.”

Sylus smiled softly, and you swallowed saliva admiring how his factions softened.

“I own several beautiful horses, and one of them has grown particularly fond of your daughter. The two of them offer frolic together at the ranch. I like seeing her be carefree and happy” you held back a surprised gasp at his words, you needed to scream, preferably at your best friend, as you melted into a puddle of mush, that was too sweet, ugh. “… if I might ask, are either of you interested in shooting or racing?”

Now you wanted to scream, but out of hysteria, even though you were a wanderer hunter it’s not like your parents were too happy about it when they expected you to be something else, like a doctor, a lawyer, even a teacher, gun handling was always a constant discussion when you lived with them and expressed your desire to be a hunter.

“I have licensed facilities filled with the necessary equipment. You’re welcome to enjoy them to your heart’s content, while it might not be obvious at first glance, I’m very good at taking care of people”

You decided to concentrate on your plate, while eating, you blinked for a couple of seconds noticing something strange but ignored it in favor of continuing eating your pork ribs.

“Because of our time together, I developed new interests. I enjoy taking her to auctions and fashion shows, I like seeing her shine, And her happiness is my happiness”

Your heart stopped at the softness of voice, you wanted to cry in his arms and tell him you loved him, but that would be too dramatic at a family dinner and you could do that when you got back to his house in the N109 Zone.

“What about the future, hmm?” everyone had finished as they spoke, you felt a lump in your throat hard to swallow, what about the future indeed, you squeezed your glass as you took a swig.

“I’ll always support her with whatever she wants to do. I’ll also stand by her side without question”

The Table was silent for a few seconds while your father picked up the dirty dishes and your mother took something out of the refrigerator, you recognized the pot immediately, you had seen it so many times during birthdays, anniversaries, Christmas and New Year.

You got up and opened a drawer and took out a plate and helped your mother unmold the flan, the color of the caramel reminded you of your childhood, when on your birthday your mother made a small mold just for you, of Christmas fighting with your older brother for the last slice, which in the end you shared sitting on the floor playing on the console.

It had been so long since you had eaten your mother’s flan, that seeing it now was just a balm for your stressed heart.

You left the plate with the flan on the table carefully, your mother took the knife out of a drawer and returned to the table to cut it.

“Everything you said was very nice Sylus” your mother’s voice gave you a shiver that went all the way down your spine to the back of your neck. “But alas for you where you hurt her, I don’t want to see her cry because of you, because I swear every time you go out you are going to have to watch your back, because if I have to, I will disappear you and no one will ever find you, was I clear enough?”

The sight was hilarious, your mother, the short woman, shorter than you in fact, was threatening the leader of Onychinus with a kitchen knife shiny from the caramel for having cut the flan, with a sweet smile as she offered him the plate with the dessert.

Sylus wasn’t expecting it at all from the look of utter surprise on his face, accepting the plate with a sideways smile.

“Like crystal” he replied softly and your mother smiled again as she handed out the plates, you breathed easy that she hadn’t stabbed him, your father poured the coffee, you put sugar and milk in yours.

The rest passed relatively quietly, lighter conversations and your father constantly telling you to take care of yourself on your missions and your mother reminding you that you could always come home if you decided to quit your job.

After finishing dessert and coffee your father took you to the garage, saying he had something to show you, you followed him thinking it would be some new car he was repairing, or a modified motorcycle, but no, he sat in his folding chair and you sat next to him, nervous about leaving Sylus and your mother alone for too long, you didn’t know if she would try to stab him in the back.

“Does he treat you well?” your father looked at you with his dark eyes, the ones you had inherited, and you nodded.

“He does”

“He seems nice, and he has money” you nodded, uncomfortable about that last “I was worried, when he said he stayed in hotels, that he worked with “individuals”, I thought he would cheat on you” your heart pounded in your chest, you once had that same thought but the fact that Sylus would always answer your calls, messages no matter the time or place removed those doubts a long time ago, “but then, he started eating the zucchini off your plate when you put them aside and the looks, he looked at you like you were the moon, like you put the sun in the sky, it gave me diabetes”

And you laughed, so hard that you threw your head back as you laughed at the top of your lungs, you laughed until your stomach hurt and your father looked at you like you were insane even though he was smiling subtly.

Sylus appeared a few moments later as you were catching your breath, your cheek half numb.

“Your mother wants you to help her dry the dishes”

You got up from your chair and walked towards the door, when Sylus turned to follow you your father called him to talk to him, you looked at him and nodded, you weren’t worried, if your mother didn’t try to kill him your father wouldn’t either, you went to the kitchen and your mother greeted you with a cloth to dry the dishes and you waited.

“I like him” she said “I like that he talked about you like that, he almost doesn’t seem real” you snorted under your breath, wondering what the two of them must have said while you were gone. “Better than your exes, definitely”

You groaned, remembering that your closest group of friends from high school still called your ex from that time “evil cockroach”, and still laughed at his love misfortunes when they got to hear something about him, you were fine staying out of it, but your mean side also felt satisfaction when it turned out that his last girlfriend had dumped him.

“He has everything you like as well, music lover, animal lover, and I am relieved to know he has gun licenses, that means he will always be able to take care of you and you will have good weapons for your missions” your mother dried the flan pot and put it back in its special drawer.

“The hunters association provides us with enough guns” although you weren’t going to deny that the Harrier 700’s were your favorite.

“He’s very much in love with you” your mother evaded the subject of your job, as always, you knew her stance on your safety and the many times you had been scolded over the phone when you were in the hospital was reminder enough “tie him up”

“Mom!” you shouted, shocked, you knew she meant ‘marry him’ but with Sylus it could be very literal that matter.

“What? You would have cute babies” you covered your face in embarrassment, leaving the plate you were drying on the counter so as not to throw it on the floor “and he has nice buttocks”

“MOM!” you shouted in a high pitched voice, definitely embarrassed and your mother laughed at you, you were aware of Sylus’ attributes, but you didn’t want to discuss them with your mother.

“He hides things doesn’t he?” you nodded, calmer at the change of subject, although it wasn’t something you wanted to discuss either, you continued drying the plates and glasses. “But you know what it is?” another nod from you “Well, as long as you know it’s okay, but I don’t want to get you out of prison”

You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway, aware of the approval your parents were giving, your mother a little too enthusiastic, your mother and you finished drying the dishes just as Sylus and your father were coming back in.

The goodbye was better than the welcome and without the stress you felt tired all at once, you wanted to go back and sleep for the next week.

With a last hug to your mother and the mortification that she gave you a condom, you rode up behind Sylus on the bike and hugged him around the waist until you returned home.

You threw yourself on the bed, ready to accomplish your desires, Sylus pulled off your pants as you grunted and tucked you under the blanket, then lay down behind you, brushing your face with something, you opened your eyes and ripped the platinum package from his fingers and threw it on the nightstand, you cursed your mother.

“Don’t even think about laughing” you said through your teeth.

“You are kinda like your mom, she’s the one in charge isn’t she?” you sighed and laid on your back.

“Yeah, my dad has a bad temper, but my mom is the one in charge, if she says do it you do it” you saw his sideways grin.

“It runs in the family I guess, you’re bossy too, Kitten” he kissed your neck and even though you wanted to get mad you couldn’t, you were tired and wanted to sleep, until…

“What did you and my mom talk about?” The kissing stopped and Sylus lay back, towering over you resting his head in his palm and his elbow on the pillow.

“Your past relationships and veiled threats disguised as funny comments, who is ‘the evil cockroach’?”

“Ugh, my chronically unfaithful ex” you shrugged “that would be a better story to tell when you meet my friends, they make it funnier”

“Oh, so I’ll meet the group too?” the comment had come out of nowhere, but if you introduced him to your parents, who you were most worried about them meeting, your friends should be easier no?

“I guess so, although I’ll have to arrange the meeting when we’re all free” you were already getting a slight headache just thinking about squaring schedules so you could set up a meeting.

“I’ll be available whenever you want” you smiled softly at him, you were too grateful that he seconded you on all the things you wanted to do, whether they were ridiculously childish or not.

“I’ll talk to them tomorrow, now I want to sleep” you turned in bed and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him down and put your face in the crook of his neck, Sylus wrapped his arms around your waist as he gently stroked your back.

You drifted off to sleep, as you thought about the best way to tell your friends that you wanted them to meet your mysterious boyfriend you talked about all the time. Maybe something like…

“Hey, do you guys want to meet my boyfriend?”

Yeah, that might be nice.

[noble-kale]

Eman Abdelrahman, @emiiii980, (#213) is a 25 year old Sudanese who has tragically lost her home when the RSF has bombed it on June 24th, 2023. Not only she has lost the place she has grown up in, but her younger brother has been martyred. Grieving over the loss, Eman and her family moved into her relatives' house, but they could not support her, so she decides to rebuild her home!

In May 2024, she has brought 20K bricks, a refrigerator, and kitchen utensils. Unfortunately, the city Eman and her family intend to move in has been bombed by the RSF! Then, in July, the situation has gotten worse. The RSF closes in on Eman's location, so she needs to evacuate ASAP! Eman has been asking for our help, but donations would trickle in little by little or stop completely.

Now we are in November. The window to evacuate has diminished all because the Sudanese pound has inflated. So we are back to square one again. Eman wants to rebuild her house once again! So let's help her achieve the short-term goal of 37K in the next 3 days! 36,007 CHF has been raised. There is 1,993 CHF left to go!

My friend has given 5 CHF, and you can match her! But you are more than welcome to give more. You can also participate in the book raffle hosted by @/magnus-rhymes-with-swagness if you show your proof of donation!

(Make sure to pay attention to currency exchange! $10 USD = 8 CHF!)

[anticipatedexhale]

They are trying to cook for you, key word is trying!.

♡ ◞ includes: caitlyn, vander, jayce, jinx, mel, viktor, vi.

☆ ◞ summary: they try to surprise you by cooking up a meal! (character)!

△ ◞ warnings: gn! reader. Other than that nothing just sweet pure fluff, also not proofread yuppie!!

Mel Medarda.

Mel doesn’t usually cook, but she enjoys challenging herself to excel at anything she attempts.

She researches recipes beforehand and even practices privately to ensure she impresses you.

She insists on perfection—not just in flavor, but in presentation.

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When Mel told you she wanted to cook dinner for you, you didn’t know what to expect. She wasn’t the type to roll up her sleeves in the kitchen—her usual dinners involved lavish spreads delivered by Piltovan chefs. Yet here she was, dressed impeccably, her sleeves neatly rolled, slicing herbs with the precision of a master artist.

You sit on a stool, quietly admiring her grace. Every movement she makes feels deliberate, from the way she stirs the sauce to the way she tastes it with a thoughtful hum. “This needs a hint more acidity,” she murmurs, reaching for a lemon.

Finally, she places the plate in front of you—a stunning dish that looks like something from a gourmet restaurant. You almost don’t want to ruin the artistry by eating it, but the aroma convinces you otherwise.

After the first bite, you can’t help but let out a small moan of approval. “Mel, this is incredible.”

Her lips curl into a satisfied smile, her golden eyes gleaming with pride. “I’d hope so. I don’t do mediocrity—not even for a simple dinner.” She leans closer, brushing her fingers lightly against yours. “But seeing you enjoy it makes all the effort worthwhile.”

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Jayce Talis.

Jayce throws himself into cooking like one of his Hextech experiments—lots of ambition, not much planning.

He uses way too many ingredients and utensils, convinced that “more is better.”

The kitchen is a disaster by the end, but he’s proud of the chaos he’s created for you.

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“Jayce, what are you—oh my god, is that smoke?” you exclaim as you walk into the kitchen.

Jayce spins around, holding a spatula in one hand and a pan in the other. There’s flour on his face, and the counter is covered in an alarming array of spices, half-chopped vegetables, and what you think might be egg shells.

“Relax! I’ve got this!” he grins, though the sizzling pan in his hand suggests otherwise. He flips something in the air, but it lands half out of the pan. He quickly scoops it back in, glancing over at you sheepishly.

“You know,” you tease, crossing your arms, “you could’ve just let me cook.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he retorts, turning back to the stove with renewed determination.

When the food is finally done, he presents it to you with a proud flourish. It’s... not pretty. Some parts are slightly burnt, others undercooked, but you can see the genuine effort he put in.

You take a cautious bite, and while it’s not perfect, it’s oddly endearing. “It’s... not bad,” you say, smiling at his hopeful expression.

He beams like you just handed him an award. “See? Told you I could do it.” He pulls you into a flour-dusted hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Next time, though, I’ll definitely get it right.”

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Viktor.

Viktor rarely cooks, as his focus is usually on his work, but he secretly enjoys the idea of creating something special for you.

He’s not overly confident in the kitchen but is determined to make it a success.

He gets overly absorbed in the “science” of cooking, sometimes forgetting the practical side.

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You find Viktor in the kitchen, his sleeves rolled up and a cookbook propped open beside him. He’s frowning slightly as he measures ingredients with the precision of an engineer.

“You’re cooking?” you ask, a little surprised but mostly intrigued.

He glances up, his expression softening at the sight of you. “Yes, I thought... well, you deserve something thoughtful. But I may have underestimated the complexity of this recipe.”

You watch as he carefully stirs a sauce, only to realize too late that the pot is starting to boil over. He yelps, stepping back quickly, and you stifle a laugh as he scrambles to salvage the situation.

“It’s fine,” he mutters, half to himself, half to you, wiping his brow with a flour-dusted hand. “A minor setback.”

When he finally presents the meal, it’s a little uneven—the sauce is slightly too thick, and the vegetables are cut at oddly different sizes—but it tastes surprisingly good.

“This is amazing,” you say with a warm smile, and Viktor visibly relaxes.

“I am glad,” he murmurs, leaning back in his chair. “I suppose I cannot compete with professionals, but knowing you enjoy it is... enough.”

You reach over to take his hand, and he squeezes yours gently, a faint blush creeping over his cheeks.

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VI.

Vi doesn’t have much experience cooking, but she’s confident enough to think she can wing it.

She’s more interested in making it fun than perfect, cracking jokes and sneaking tastes while she cooks.

The end result is edible (barely), but her effort and enthusiasm make up for it.

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When Vi told you she was going to cook dinner, you weren’t sure what to expect. Now, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, you can’t decide whether to laugh or intervene.

“Don’t just stand there,” Vi says, grinning at you over her shoulder as she stirs something in a pan. “I’ve got this under control.

The “control” she’s referring to involves a half-chopped onion, a bag of pasta precariously balanced on the counter, and a sauce that looks... experimental.

“Vi, do you even know what you’re making?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Dinner,” she says simply, throwing in a handful of spices with no regard for measurements.

When she finally serves the food, it’s a little burnt and overly seasoned, but her proud expression as she watches you take a bite makes it impossible to complain.

“Well?” she asks, leaning forward, her elbows on the table.

“It’s... unique,” you say diplomatically, and she bursts out laughing.

“Yeah, okay, it’s terrible,” she admits, leaning back with a grin. “But you’re still stuck with me, so deal with it.” She reaches over to steal a bite from your plate, her playful smirk softening into something warmer.

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Caitlyn.

Caitlyn grew up in luxury and rarely had to cook for herself, but she’s surprisingly good at it thanks to her perfectionist streak.

She approaches cooking with precision, following recipes to the letter.

She loves making meals that remind her of home but adds her own modern twist

She loves making meals that remind her of home but adds her own modern twist.

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The smell of something delicious pulls you into the kitchen, where Caitlyn is standing at the stove, her hair neatly tied back and an apron wrapped around her waist.

“Is that... pie?” you ask, sniffing the air.

She’s completely in her element, moving with quiet efficiency as she checks the oven and stirs a pot of soup. When she catches you watching her, she tilts her head.

“It’s a family recipe,” she replies, turning to you with a smile. “I thought you’d like something comforting tonight.”

“Are you going to just stand there, or are you going to help?” she teases.

You end up chopping vegetables under her guidance, and by the time the meal is ready, the two of you have fallen into a comfortable rhythm.

When she serves the pie, it’s golden and flaky, the filling warm and fragrant. You take a bite and let out a hum of approval.

“This is amazing, Cait,” you say, and her cheeks flush slightly.

“I’m glad you think so,” she says softly, her hand brushing yours as she takes her seat. “It’s nice to share this with you.”

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Jinx.

Jinx can’t cook. At all. But she’s convinced she can and gets wildly creative in the kitchen.

She’s more interested in the process than the result, turning the whole thing into chaos.

She’d never admit it, but she just wants to make you smile, even if the food is a disaster.

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“Close your eyes!” Jinx exclaims, practically bouncing on her feet as she leads you into the kitchen.

You do as she says, bracing yourself for whatever chaos awaits. When she finally lets you open your eyes, you’re greeted by a table covered in... something.

“Ta-da!” she announces, waving her arms at the feast she’s prepared. It’s colorful, chaotic, and borderline unrecognizable as food

“Uh, Jinx, what is this?” you ask, trying not to laugh.

“It’s dinner, duh,” she says, sitting down and shoving a plate toward you. “I mixed all the best stuff together. You’re gonna love it!”

You take a cautious bite, and while it’s not exactly good, the way Jinx watches you with wide, eager eyes makes it worth it.

“Well?” she asks, leaning forward, her grin almost childlike.

“It’s... creative,” you say, and she bursts out laughing.

“Yeah, okay, it’s a mess,” she admits, but her smile softens as she reaches out to steal a bite from your plate. “But it’s our mess.”

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Vander.

Vander is a practical man and isn’t really interested in fancy cooking.

He tends to stick to hearty, simple meals that will fill everyone up—comfort food is his specialty.

He’s a little self-conscious about his cooking skills but always tries his best to make sure you feel cared for.

You hear the familiar sound of clanking pots and the rich scent of stew wafting from the kitchen. Vander stands at the stove, stirring a large pot with his usual no-nonsense attitude. His sleeves are rolled up, and his broad back is hunched over the counter as he checks on the simmering ingredients.

“Smells good in here,” you say, leaning against the doorframe and watching him work.

Vander glances over at you, a bit startled but offering a warm smile when he sees it’s just you. “It’s nothing fancy,” he grumbles, his voice a little sheepish. “Just thought I’d make something filling for us. No one needs to go hungry, right?”

You step closer, leaning in to smell the stew. It’s a mix of root vegetables, tender meat, and just the right amount of seasoning—simple but comforting. “It smells amazing,” you say honestly.

He looks pleased but still tries to downplay it. “Yeah, well, I’ve been doing this kind of thing for a while. Had to keep people fed in the Undercity, after all.”

You sit at the table as Vander sets down two bowls of stew in front of you. The meal is nothing extraordinary in terms of presentation, but the warmth and heart behind it are undeniable. It’s exactly what you need after a long day.

Vander sits across from you, digging into his own bowl, and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, eating.

When you finally finish, you lean back in your chair, satisfied. “Vander, that was perfect,” you say, giving him a smile.

He looks a bit surprised, his face softening. “Glad you liked it. I know I’m no chef, but... well, it’s nice to know I can still make you happy with something simple.”

You reach across the table, placing a hand on his. “It’s not about the fancy stuff, Vander. It’s the care you put into it.”

His hand covers yours, his expression filled with warmth. “Just don’t expect me to start experimenting with fancy desserts or anything,” he chuckles. “But I’ll always make sure you’re well-fed.”

You smile, feeling both comforted and cared for in his presence, knowing that even if the food was simple, it came with a whole lot of love.

Authors note: hehehe this was so silly to write omg I lobe them.

[zibiscusloon]

👉👈 please-

𝐎𝐂 𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒!

feel free to tweak questions + all emojis r listed in text form bc i can't see some of them aAAaaAA! sorry if any of these questions are too similar i tried to avoid that but .. there's a lot lol! categorized by emoji type.

i wanted to make one because i could not find one on tumblr already that had a ton of questions. this was created by combining ones under the #oc ask game tag + my own contributions. hi charmymemes nation i'm back.

people

👁️ EYE - what colour are their eyes? do people notice their eyes? is there anything special about them (shows emotion easily, literally magical...)?

🤥 LYING - are they good liars? do they have tells to show they're lying?

👻 GHOST - do they believe in ghosts? what are their "ghostly experiences", if any?

💥 COLLISON - what emotions do they have trouble dealing with?

😭 CRYING - what makes them cry? do they cry easily?

👊 PUNCH - are they quick to violence?

💢 ANGER - what are some habits they have that will take some getting used to?

👪 FAMILY - what is their family like? what is your ocs relationship to them? does your oc have any siblings?

😨 FEARFUL - when scared, do they go into "flight" or "fight"?

💤 SLEEPING - do they fall asleep easily? what helps them sleep?

food & drinks

🥞 PANCAKE - what is their comfort breakfast?

🎂 BIRTHDAY CAKE - when is their birthday? do they like celebrating it?

🍩 DONUT - favourite sweet treat?

🍟 FRIES - do they order food often? or they prefer to cook their own food?

☕️ HOT BEVERAGE - do they prefer hot or cold drinks? what is their favourite drink?

🍓 STRAWBERRY - do they eat their fruit & veg? what is their favourite fruit or vegetable?

🍰 CAKE SLICE - favourite cake flavour? are they specific about types of cakes?

🍧 SHAVED ICE - do they still have any objects from their childhood? what significance does it have to them? what would their reaction be if they lost it?

plants & nature

💐 BOUQUET - create a bouqet for them! what do those flowers mean? are any of the flowers their particular favourite?

🌙 MOON - what is your oc's greatest wish? how far are they willing to go for it?

🌋 VOLCANO - how bad is their temper? is it a slow boil, or a instant explosion?

🌺 HIBISCUS - do they have any allergies?

🍁 MAPLE LEAF - what is their favourite season? why?

🍃 FALLING LEAF - do they enjoy being in nature? what is their favourite outdoor activity?

☀️ SUN - are they a morning person? what is the first thing they do in the morning?

🕷️ SPIDER - what is their biggest fear? do they have any irrational / mundane fears?

🌹 ROSE - do they like valentines day? have they been confessed to before? have they confessed to anyone before?

🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL - whats a side of your oc that they don't want to show other people?

🙊 SPEAK-NO-EVIL - what is something your oc will refuse to stay quiet about?

🙉 HEAR-NO-EVIL - what is the worse thing your oc could hear from someone?

🌱 SEEDLING - what is their most vivid memory from childhood?

🍀 CLOVER - do they believe in luck? are they lucky?

🌏 EARTH - will they give up the world for someone they love? is this decision easy for them?

🌌 MILKY WAY - what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?

activity

⚾ BASEBALL - can they play sports? what is their best position if they play a team sport? what's their strong suit (speed, power etc.)?

🏊 SWIMMING - can they swim? or are they afraid of water? how well do they swim? how do they feel about swimming in the ocean?

objects

📣 MEGAPHONE - how loud are they? what do they speak like? got a voice claim?

📖 OPEN BOOK - do they like reading? what's their favourite genre?

🪤 MOUSE TRAP - what will always lure them into certain danger? a loved one in danger? a promise of something they are always searching for?

📸 CAMERA - do they enjoy having their picture taken? what's their go-to pose? do they like taking photos? what do they take photos of?

🎭 MASKS - do they act differently around certain people? what's different between the way they act around friends, family, strangers, etc.?

✂️ SCISSORS - what is the "last straw" for them to cut someone out of their life? how easily do they let go of people?

💡 LIGHTBULB - is your oc a planner? do they write down every small detail or just wing it?

💎 DIAMOND - how rich are they? can they live the lifestyle they want to?

🎁 PRESENT - what types of presents would they be most happy to receive? are they good at gift giving?

🍼 BABY BOTTLE - what are their thoughts on children?

🔪 KNIFE - how do they react to injury / misfortune befalling their loved ones (significant other, family, friends)? do they put themselves at blame?

👑 CROWN - what does your oc want to be remembered as? why?

✏️ PENCIL - is there a particular quote / lyric that you associate with them?

🎵 MUSIC NOTE - what is their playlist like? their favourite artists? do you associate a particular song with them?

🎤 MICROPHONE - are they good at singing? what is their go-to karaoke song?

🎷 SAXOPHONE - do they play any instruments? are they any good at it?

📚 BOOKS - how were they at school? what is their best subject? what is their worst subject? do they have a favourite subject?

👖 JEANS - what is their go-to outfit?

🎨 PALETTE - can they draw? what do they like to draw?

🎡 FERRIS WHEEL - are they someone who wants to kiss at the top of the ferris wheel?

⏳ HOURGLASS - are they usually late or on-time?

🔫 PISTOL - do they trust people easily? how easily will they turn their back to someone? have they been backstabbed before? will they betray someone if given an ultimatum?

🎀 RIBBON - how would they fit into other worlds / aus? what aus would you like to try out? what fictional world would they fit / not fit into?

📎 PAPERCLIP - a random fact.

📦 PACKAGE - what are some "most likely to..." that can apply to them?

🖍️ CRAYON - what advice would you give to them?

⚙️ GEAR - what are your ocs thoughts on science & art? which do they give more importance to? how much value do they place on each?

🔧 WRENCH - are they good at fixing relationships? or do they tend to avoid doing so?

❇️ SPARKLE - what is their most prized possession? what do they value?

📏 RULER - is your oc well educated? where did they get their learning from?

transport

🚆 TRAIN - what is their answer to the trolley problem?

🚲 BICYCLE - can they ride a bike? what do they remember from learning to ride a bicycle?

weather

🌩️ LIGHTNING - are they scared of lightning?

💧 DROPLET - random angst headcanon

❄️ SNOWFLAKE - do people consider them cold? if so, what made them this way?

🌪️ TORNADO - what is the biggest change you've ever made to them? how have they changed from their original version?

🌈 RAINBOW - what advice would they give to their younger self?

🔥 FIRE - do they have any self destructive tendencies? what habits do they have that hinder them from becoming their best self?

☁️ CLOUD - a soft headcanon

🌟 GLOWING STAR - what do they think about when they look at the night sky? is there someone they want to star gaze with?

🌠 SHOOTING STAR - if they could make any wish with no repercussions, what wish would they make?

☄️ COMET - what do people assume about them? are they right?

hearts

💓 BEATING HEART - what gets their heart racing?

💘 HEART W/ ARROW - what traits do they look for in a relationship? do they believe in love at first sight?

💗 GROWING HEART - if they have a crush, is it noticable? what changes when they're in love?

❤️ RED HEART - their love language(s)?

💙 BLUE HEART - do they miss their s/o easily? how do they act when their s/o isn't around?

💚 GREEN HEART - what things make your oc feel comforted? hugs, kisses, food?

💖 SPARKLING HEART - are they a subtle or a showy lover?

💌 LOVE LETTER - do they like love letters? what kind of messages do they leave for their partner?

💔 BROKEN HEART - what could their partner do that would absolutely break their heart?

[kithtaehyung]

minted (m) (snippet) | myg

title: minted (m) pairing: street king!yoongi x street cart vendor!reader rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , smut ; haegeum au , gang au summary: all you do is wake up, sell your fruit on the dusty streets below your flat, and go to sleep. but everything changes when a customer you always look forward to seeing turns out to be dangerous. really, really dangerous. note: again, this wasn't on the docket for 2024 until i saw one (1) mint yoongi edit on my pinterest feed💀 anyways, this is dedicated to hali @sailoryooons for ur belated bday, nary @joonary for being a cutie pie and letting me adopt the tangerine cart girl idea in general, and luce @minttangerines for ur url and for being a wonderful friend. love you all! warnings: language, violence, weapons (guns/knives/chopsticks/etc.), blood/wounds mentions, drugs, alcohol, murder, gang activity, poor reader is just trying to get through the day, mint!yoongi, haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, knife held to the throat, tension, reader suffers from “my cabbages” levels of disaster, orange!jimin, fight scenes, both versions of yoongi have their own red warning labels smut warnings: to be dropped on drop day but lmfaoooo est. drop date: july 2024! teaser word count: 486 total word count: projecting 15-20k✌️

With a head full of thoughts, you stare into nothing, stirring your noodles and waiting for the heat to die down. 

Maybe you should’ve just walked a shorter distance and checked the shops you originally wanted to browse. If things went to plan, you could’ve been back home by now, freshly showered and curling up on your worn bed. 

But instead, your feet are sore, your head is anything but washed, and you have to trek home empty-handed—on the first day off you’ve had in months. 

Defeated, you sigh, going back to your bowl and watching diced vegetables swirl in aromatic broth. 

At least the food in this area seems good. And the fading decor really adds to the… 

Ambiance. 

Wait. 

You can’t pull your eyes away from the group walking in, bringing heat from the sweltering sun on their clothes and in their eyes. 

But you can only kid yourself for so long because the one that has your gaze tethered is the man in front. The one you haven’t seen in weeks. The one looking right back at you with a visage so shadowed you feel like moving tables to let him pass. 

…Yoongi? 

As he gets closer, you swallow hard, not expecting to see him and having no earthly idea what to do. 

But from the slight confusion pinching his forehead, he didn’t expect to see you, either. Which makes it even weirder when he slowly takes your chopsticks right from your fingers. 

Hold on, what—

“What are you—”

A lone, long digit over lips is the only response you get, silencing you immediately before you whip your head around to watch him rush past. 

All of them waste no time rushing up the stairs, a myriad of blues blending in with gritty paint and smoke. 

And just like that, your reunion is over. 

Home. You need to go home. Leave, leave, leave, because something is bound to be going down upstai—

A thud faintly shoots out into the staircase, and you spin around again in your chair, eyes snapping to the ceiling. 

Shit. 

Even though you’re on high alert, you realize with a quick sweep that no one else is noticing. Or moving. Or even paying attention to anything else but their own company. 

Does no one else care about the commotion? Do hits happen in this area that often? 

Mind running, you can’t decide what to do. Because even though Yoongi’s guys have plenty of weapons, he clearly had nothing since he needed to borrow your damn eating utensils.

Another crash rains dust on conversations around your shoulders, causing you to look up one last time. 

Go home, go home, go home. In what universe would Yoongi himself ever need your help here?

With one more look at your noodles, you curl your lips before biting a side. 

Already yelling at yourself for choosing to book it towards the back staircase.

-

-

tbc :)))

-

⟶ what do we feel! | 🥢 join the taglist 🥢 | masterlist

a/n: LETS GOOOO WHO IS HYPED BCCC..

[hsnlv]

cookie confession | l.hs

pairing: heeseung x fem!reader

synopsis: when you come home to heeseung baking cookies, it seems like a sweet surprise—until his overly affectionate behavior sets off alarm bells. as you dig deeper, his guilty confession leads to a whirlwind of burnt cookies, broken blushers, and hilariously clumsy apologies.

warnings/others: fluff!, mention of hamster’s death (gasp! tragic!), heeseung is clumsy but he’s cute so he’s forgiven!

wc: 1.6k

a/n: hello! it warms my heart knowing that adorably mine! receives a lot of love from people. so heres another hee fic for you <3 and feel free to check out my page and read my other creations (the old ones are cringe ew so pls dont read those😵‍💫) here’s my masterlist!

you unlock the door to your apartment, the faint scent of something sweet wafting through the air. it greets you the moment you step inside, and you furrow your brows, slipping off your shoes. the aroma is enticing—warm, sugary, and a little… burnt?

you head toward the kitchen, your bag sliding off your shoulder, and there he is. lee heeseung, standing in the middle of the chaos he’s somehow created.

the counter is dusted in flour, bowls and utensils scattered around, chocolate chips spilled everywhere. heeseung himself looks like a disaster: hair slightly messy, an apron tied around his waist, and a smudge of flour on his cheek.

his head snaps up when he hears you, and a wide grin spreads across his face. “baby, you’re home!”

his voice is so soft, so warm, and the way his eyes light up makes your heart flutter.

“what’s going on in here?” you ask, setting your bag down on a chair. you glance at the oven, where a faint trail of smoke seeps out from the edges.

“i’m baking cookies for you,” he announces proudly, walking over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “because my girlfriend is the most amazing, beautiful, smart person in the whole world, and she deserves cookies.”

you blink up at him, confused but also charmed. his voice is sweet, dripping with sincerity, but something about the way he’s acting doesn’t sit right.

“cookies, huh?” you murmur, tilting your head as you eye him suspiciously.

he leans down to press a kiss to your temple. “only the best for you.”

his words are perfect—almost too perfect. and that’s when it clicks.

“heeseung,” you say slowly, watching him tense slightly, “what did you do this time?”

he pulls back, blinking at you, a picture of innocence. “huh? i’m just baking cookies for my beautiful girlfriend. what do you mean, ‘what did i do’?”

you narrow your eyes. you know this heeseung. the overly sweet, doting heeseung who only acts this way when he’s done something he’s trying to cover up. you’ve seen it before.

like the time he accidentally bathed your hamster.

<flashback>

“hee, where’s mochi?” you asked, setting down the hamster cage that you had been cleaning in the other room.

heeseung’s eyes darted toward the bathroom door, and you immediately felt the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

“heeseung,” you said slowly, your voice laced with suspicion, “what are you doing?”

“nothing!” he yelped, his tone way too defensive for it to actually mean nothing.

you stormed toward the bathroom, pushing the door open to find… mochi. soaking wet. sitting in the sink.

“heeseung!” you shrieked. “why is mochi in the sink?!”

“he smelled weird!” heeseung cried, his voice high-pitched and panicked. “i thought i could, you know, help him out—”

“you’re not supposed to BATHE hamsters!” you cut him off, your hands flying to your head in disbelief.

“how was i supposed to know that?!”

you glared at him, watching as mochi blinked at you both, looking utterly done with life.

you sighed heavily, scooping the little hamster out of the sink and carefully drying him off.

later that week, mochi passed away—not because of the bath (though you’ll never let heeseung live it down), but simply because he was old and fragile.

and of course, heeseung cried at least twice as much as you did, apologizing to mochi’s empty cage every time he passed by it for the next month.

<end of flashback>

you shake your head at the memory, eyeing heeseung as he fidgets under your gaze.

“lee heeseung,” you say again, your voice firm this time, “what did you do?”

his lips part as if to respond, but he hesitates, his hand lifting to scratch the back of his neck. “nothing, baby, i swear. just… just focus on the cookies, okay? you’ll love them, promise.”

“hee,” you deadpan, crossing your arms over your chest. “what. did. you. do.”

he sighs, defeated, and gives you a sheepish smile. “okay, okay, i might’ve broken something.”

your stomach drops. “you what?”

“it was an accident!” he rushes to explain, holding up his hands defensively. “i didn’t mean to—i was trying to clean our room and my elbow—” he stops, cringing.

“what did you break, heeseung?” you ask, dread creeping into your voice.

“your… blusher,” he admits quietly, wincing as he says it.

“you broke my what?!”

he winces again, his voice small. “your blusher. the one in the little pink compact.”

“heeseung!” you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration.

heeseung flinches, his hands coming together in front of him like he’s praying for mercy. “i know, i know, and i’m really, really sorry. but it wasn’t on purpose, baby! it just… fell! and then it kind of… exploded.”

“exploded?” you echo, staring at him incredulously.

he gestures helplessly toward the trash can. “it’s everywhere, and trust me, i tried to salvage it, but it’s just… gone. like, really gone.”

“which one was it?”

“it says ‘charlotte’ something,”

“lee heeseung, what the fuck?! my charlotte tilbury blusher?” you’re screaming at this point. heeseung just stands there, blinking innocently, his lips in a pout.

you sigh deeply, shaking your head. “heeseung, that was a limited-edition shade! i can’t even replace it!”

he winces at the word limited-edition, looking like a scolded puppy. “i’ll buy you a new one,” he offers quickly, stepping closer to you. “any shade you want. even if it costs a fortune.”

you cross your arms, glaring up at him. “you bet you will.”

“please don’t be mad,” he pleads, wrapping his arms around you. “i’ll make it up to you, i promise. i’ll even get you two blushers—one for everyday use and one as a backup!”

you huff, turning your head away from him. “you’re lucky you’re cute, lee heeseung.”

he grins, sensing the tiniest crack in your armor. “cute enough to make you forgive me?”

“no.”

“adorable enough to make you consider forgiving me?” he tries, his voice light and teasing as he nuzzles his nose into your neck.

“don’t push it,” you mumble, though you’re already fighting a smile.

“what if i let you eat the cookies first?” he offers, pulling back to look at you with big, hopeful eyes. “the ones i baked with all my love.”

you glance toward the oven, where the faint smell of something burnt still lingers. “hee, those cookies are probably inedible.”

he gasps, clutching his chest like you’ve just wounded him. “how dare you doubt my skills?!”

“heeseung, you burned instant noodles last week.”

“that was one time!”

“and the spaghetti before that.”

“okay, fine,” he concedes with a sheepish grin. “but at least let me try to make it up to you. we can go shopping tomorrow, and you can pick whatever makeup you want. blushers, lipsticks, foundation, the whole works.”

you narrow your eyes at him. “you’re just saying that because you feel guilty.”

“absolutely,” he says without hesitation, pulling you into another hug. “but I also mean it. because i love you, and you deserve everything.”

you roll your eyes, though your heart softens at his words.

“fine,” you mutter, resting your forehead against his chest. “but i’m still mad about the blusher.”

“understood,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “i’m officially on probation.”

“and you’re cleaning the kitchen,” you add, glancing at the flour-coated counter.

he groans dramatically. “you drive a hard bargain, babe.”

“consider it payback for mochi,” you say with a smirk.

heeseung freezes, his expression comically guilty. “you’re never letting me live that down, are you?”

“never,” you reply, stepping out of his embrace and grabbing a cookie from the tray he set on the counter. it’s slightly misshapen and more than a little burnt, but you take a bite anyway.

it’s terrible.

but as heeseung watches you with a hopeful, lopsided grin, you can’t help but think it’s a little perfect, just like him.

[nightmaretherabbit]

OH MY GOD

AHHH ALL THE GIRLS LOOK SPLENDID!! TY CURLY!!! ILY ILY ILY/P

Summer time!

I watched a video about a 1950’s fashion show about swimsuits, and I just got inspired! And what better way to spread inspiration by giving it to others?

Summer ends for me in 2-3 weeks, so have some summer girls!

Credit:

Gala belongs to @nightmaretherabbit

Rosé belongs to me

Tea belongs to @marshmallow-biscuit-blog

Paris belongs to @cupheadlover101

Moonshine belongs to @trippin-chippin

Elise belongs to @purplemang0z

Ross belongs to @zibiscusloon

Video I watched:

[zibiscusloon]

Introducing: Hortense Wilfowl !

Hortense is a harpy from the mountains of Isle 2. They’re highly carefree and the head of a large flock of raptors who hunt down prey ranging from vermin, to unsuspecting bird hunters.

She’s highly lax and kind to her flock and looks to keep them well maintained and healthy. She has a soft spot for kids and takes most of the children of the Isles under her wing.

They’re very close to Nebuluna, often visiting the fallen angel and watching over Chippy while Neb is out at her work. She and Neb tend to spend a lot of time with each other. Hm.

•Full name is Hortense Wilfowl

•She’s 798 years old (she is mortal, harpies just have a far more extended life span that most species)

•Genderqueer, they/she, sapphic

•Lifelong nemesis to one Werner Werman. Her flock has been hunting down that lil war criminal for years, it’s become less so that she wants her flock to be able to eat him, and more so she wants to see what intricate trap he’ll use to escape them next. He’s terrified of them.

•Views the Warbles family as friends! It’s actually a rather one sided rivalry from Wally’s perspective, as he thinks Hortense is trying to take over his territory. (Willy and her get along a lot better, Hortense has taught him a few hunting methods)

•They and Nebuluna share a mutual crush on each other, Hortense being far more oblivious to her own feelings than Neb is to her own.

(Note: Nebuluna x Cala has since been made non canon to Disaster Utensils. I’m sorry for those who liked that ship, I just couldn’t find myself writing them anymore as the ship wasn’t catching my eye like it used to. They’re now canonly exes.)

[aventurineswife]

🤣 The one with Yor Forger!Reader lmaooooooo

Now I’m picturing the AE crew having to eat their cooking and they’re all collectively horrified.

But then Welt eats it anyway with a completely straight face and gives some pretty good criticism (becuz he noticed Reader’s hands were a little cut up and burnt from the effort and doesn’t want them to feel bad) before leaving.

And then Pom-Pom and March go check on him and he’s uhhhhh definitely not feeling well. 😅

Meanwhile, Caelus/Stelle is the only one somehow unaffected (and probably asking for seconds).

From Burnt to Bonded | Part 3

Summary: An ordinary evening aboard the Astral Express takes an unexpected turn when you decide to prepare dinner for the crew. What starts as an innocent gesture quickly becomes a culinary misadventure, challenging the crew’s taste buds and patience. Despite the questionable outcome, the experience strengthens the crew’s bond, proving that even the most chaotic moments can bring people closer together.

Tags: Astral Express x Reader, Platonic, Hurt/Comfort, Slice of Life, Humor, Found Family, Food Mishap, Culinary Disaster, Fluff and Angst, Welt Being a Dad.

Warnings: Mentions of minor injuries (cuts/burns from cooking), Mild descriptions of food-related discomfort, Slight angst regarding self-worth.

A/N: and this will be the last part of this, goddamn, I didn't expected it to be so long 💀

[Part 1] | [Part 2]

[Header credits]

It had been an ordinary evening aboard the Astral Express, but today, something was different. A new experiment had taken place in the ship’s galley — you had taken it upon yourself to whip up dinner for the crew.

It started innocently enough. The crew was used to their usual meals, carefully prepared by the ship’s automated systems. But when they saw you eagerly walking in with a bowl, the overwhelming optimism in your eyes was hard to ignore. You were so eager to share your homemade cooking, determined to impress everyone with your culinary prowess, or at least with your effort.

"Tonight's dinner is all on me!" you announced cheerfully, placing the steaming bowl of... something on the table.

The crew exchanged curious glances, unsure whether to be excited or worried. March 7th, with her usual enthusiasm, bounced over to the table first. "Ooh, it smells... interesting!" she said, her voice a little uncertain, but always supportive. The others joined her cautiously.

"Looks... uh, different," Dan Heng said quietly, eyeing the dish with suspicion. He had never seen anything quite like it.

"This is... unique," Welt remarked, pushing his glasses up and observing the dish with a level of expertise that seemed to imply he was bracing himself.

Sunday gave a gentle smile. “I’m sure it’s delicious,” he said, trying to mask his own unease. His eyes flickered briefly to the dish, then back to you.

The crew could sense the hesitancy, and that only made you more determined. “I promise it’s going to be great! I’ve been practicing!”

With a collective sigh of resignation, the crew began to dig in.

A few bites in, and it was clear: something had gone terribly wrong.

The texture was… unusual. A blend of mushy and rubbery. The taste was a strange combination of sweetness and bitterness, each bite leaving a lingering aftertaste that no one could place. Even March’s usually upbeat demeanor faltered as she chewed slowly, her eyes wide with confusion. "Uhm... it’s... something," she said, forcing a smile.

Dan Heng took a small bite, then placed his fork down slowly. “I think I’m going to need a drink after this.” he muttered, his stoic expression barely cracking.

Welt remained silent as he took a bite, his face completely unreadable. The crew all watched him, waiting for a reaction.

It was then that the older man set his utensils down, folded his hands calmly, and looked up at the crew with a composed expression. "It’s not... terrible, per se," he began, his tone surprisingly calm. "But there's a lot of room for improvement."

Everyone gasped. They had been bracing for an explosion of distaste, but instead, Welt spoke with the same careful consideration he always used when analyzing a difficult situation.

“First off, the texture is a bit off, not quite as you might expect," Welt continued, pointing at the dish. "It's important to have a balance of softness and firmness in any dish to maintain its integrity. This could use some fine-tuning. Perhaps some more precise timing with the cooking process would help.”

The crew, though still recoiling from the taste, were caught off guard by Welt's composed critique. They exchanged uncertain glances.

“And,” he added, noticing your slightly cut-up hands and bandaged fingers, “it looks like you’ve had a few accidents while preparing this. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard. You need to take better care of yourself.”

There was a pause as everyone looked at you. The tiny cuts and burns on your hands suddenly became more evident, though you’d tried to hide them under your sleeves. Sunday’s eyes softened as he watched your reaction, his gaze tinged with concern.

Your expression faltered for just a second. You hadn't realized the crew had noticed, your focus so consumed by making the meal that your own safety had slipped from your mind. “I… It’s fine,” you replied quickly, not wanting to burden anyone with your injuries. “I just wanted to make something special for you all.”

Welt nodded thoughtfully. “I appreciate the gesture, but your well-being is just as important as your cooking. Rest a little, take care of your hands, and maybe we can try this again with a bit more guidance.”

March, who had been silently observing the exchange, piped up with a bright grin. “I think it’s the thought that counts, right? And hey, maybe we can try it again together! We can improve this with some practice. That’s what friends are for!”

Sunday gave a small smile. “You’ve already succeeded in one thing,” he said, his wings fluttering gently. “You’ve reminded us that even in a place where the impossible happens, there’s always room for growth.”

Your heart swelled at the unexpected support from your crew. Despite the culinary disaster, there was a sense of solidarity that made everything feel a little lighter. You gave them a weak but grateful smile.

“Thank you all. I’ll get it right next time.”

After the meal, the crew began to disperse, still chuckling and gently teasing each other about the "unique" dinner they had just experienced. But as the last of the crew members made their way out of the galley, Welt stayed behind for a moment longer, looking over the scattered remnants of the meal with a pensive expression. He seemed as composed as always, but there was a subtle pallor to his face that hadn't been there before.

He quickly excused himself, muttering something about needing to check on a few things, and made his way toward the hallway. It was then that Pom-Pom, ever the observant one, and March, who was still in her playful mood, exchanged a knowing glance.

Pom-Pom’s small, fluffy form waddled toward March, their ears twitching. “Pom-Pom senses something’s wrong. Let’s go check on Welt!”

March, ever the one to go along with Pom-Pom’s suggestions, nodded with a grin. "You got it! Maybe he just needs a little space to recover from all the flavors... or... maybe he ate a bit too much."

The two quickly followed Welt, trailing behind him as he walked down the corridor, his steps slow and deliberate. When they reached his quarters, they noticed the door slightly ajar, and it creaked open when Pom-Pom gave it a gentle push.

Welt was sitting at the edge of his bed, his face now flushed, though it was unclear whether it was from the lingering effects of the food or something else entirely. He leaned slightly forward, resting his elbows on the surface of his thighs, trying to compose himself.

"Are you alright, Mr. Yang?" March asked, her voice quieter now, her usual teasing tone replaced with genuine concern. She moved to his side, scanning his face carefully.

Welt looked up at her, his usual composed demeanor starting to crack. "I’m… not sure," he admitted, his voice laced with a rare hint of discomfort. "It seems my stomach is disagreeing with me more than I anticipated."

Pom-Pom, as always, was the first to react, their face lighting up with concern. "Pom-Pom think Welt’s tummy doesn’t like the food! Pom-Pom thinks it needs special care!"

Welt offered a small, self-deprecating smile. "I’m afraid you may be right, Pom-Pom."

March frowned, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You sure you’re okay? Do you want me to get you something, Mr. Yang?”

Before Welt could answer, a voice from behind them caught their attention.

“Everything alright here?”

Caelus stood in the doorway, having apparently overheard the conversation. Unlike the rest of the crew, who had made faces and hesitated after trying the meal, Caelus seemed unbothered, if not pleased. In fact, he had a small plate of the strange dish in hand.

“I have to say, despite the... texture, it wasn’t as bad as I thought,” Caelus continued with a grin, walking into the room with a casual air. "Actually, I’m gonna go ask for seconds.”

March blinked at him in confusion. “Wait, you... liked it?” Her eyes shifted to Pom-Pom, who was equally baffled.

Caelus shrugged, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “What can I say? I have an adventurous palate.”

Welt glanced at him, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You’re either incredibly brave… or incredibly insane.”

March couldn’t help but laugh, her earlier concern momentarily forgotten as she stared at Caelus with a raised eyebrow. “I guess you’re the only one who escaped the curse of that dish, huh? You should teach us your secret for tolerance.”

“Well, you’re all welcome to try again,” Caelus replied with a wink, taking a nonchalant bite of the food, seemingly enjoying it as much as before.

Welt sighed, his discomfort still evident despite the lighter mood in the room. “I think I’ll pass on any more attempts at that meal for now. Maybe next time, we’ll stick with something a bit simpler.” He placed a hand on his stomach, grimacing slightly before managing to regain his usual calm composure.

Pom-Pom bounced over to Caelus, eyeing the plate. “Pom-Pom wants second helpings too! But Pom-Pom think it’s better to ask first next time.”

Caelus laughed at Pom-Pom’s antics, his eyes sparkling. “Sure, Pom-Pom, you can join me! But next time, let’s make sure someone knows what they’re doing in the kitchen first."

"Yeah, that would probably help," March added with a teasing grin, her eyes flicking back to Welt. "Maybe someone should take the next meal off and let us try something ourselves."

Welt gave her a tired but amused look. "I think that’s a good idea."

As Pom-Pom and March continued to poke fun at Welt's misfortune, the atmosphere lightened, and even the older man couldn’t help but join in the laughter, his earlier discomfort forgotten for the moment.

Meanwhile, Caelus took another bite of the food with a satisfied expression, savoring the bizarre combination of flavors. “I’m just glad we can all laugh about it. And hey, there’s always room for improvement, right?”

The crew may not have gotten the meal they expected, but they had something even more valuable: the sense of camaraderie and the knowledge that, no matter how strange the experience, they were in it together.

[Credits to @aochiorta]

[kitchenwitchtingss]

50 KITCHEN WITCH TIPS TO MAKE YOU FEEL MORE WITCHY

(And other useful things I've learned over the years)

Hi! This is a list of dos, don'ts, tips, tricks, and other fun things that I've learned over the years. I always love finding more effective and efficient ways of doing things so if you have any cool things you'd like to add, leave them in the comments or reblog. I'd love to read it.

Anyways... On with the list ^_^

Light candles around your kitchen space (just make sure nothing flammable is near you)

Annotate your cookbooks with the correspondence of the ingredients.

Mediating is really good to calm the mind before cooking.

Cut oranges and lemons thinly, dry them, and hang them with twine around your kitchen

Need a cleansing tip? Open all your windows near your kitchen. Let some fresh air in.

Cutting sigils into apples, pie crusts, and carved potatoes.

Save lemon and orange rinds, freeze them, and then use them to clean the garbage disposal.

Make infused oils and honey: Things like garlic honey, lavender honey, herb oil, sun oil, moon oil, dandelion oil, and other different edible oils are very fun and useful to make.

Hid sigils in pages of your cookbooks and kitchen witch journals.

Add some plants! Snake plants and spider plants don't need too much light, and growing your own herbs in your kitchen is awesome too. Basil, lavender, thyme, aloe vera, rosemary, etc. are good fits. You could also add some plants that require more sunlight on the kitchen window sill. Like cacti and succulents.

Bring crystals into your kitchen space such as rose quartz, clear quartz, amethyst, or whatever you want the space's intentions to be.

I keep a small money tree on the sill, along with cacti for luck and protection.

Make a simmer Pot! Mostly because it makes the whole house smell good, easy, and fun.

Stir clockwise for best results!

Learning how to pickle things is actually pretty witchy. Plus, anyone could do it as it requires absolutely no kitchen experience. You could pickle any vegetable, even if you don't like pickles. I originally learned this after having to take shelter from a natural disaster. A person brought a bunch of stuff and taught us how to pickle things with different spices and herbs. Very fun!

Decorate your kitchen with your favorite stuff. Crystals, decor, heat mits, that cool mushroom cake stand you've been eyeing at the World Market for the past 2 weeks, cool looking curtains, sun catchers. Why stop there? Paint the walls, hang shelves full of marked-up cookbooks that are a little too well-loved and thumbed through.

Wanna be the person that has the amazing-smelling house every time people come over? Syrups take some time to simmer down, it's actually a pretty good time to leave it on the stove to simmer. Since syrups have a lot of aromatic ingredients, it acts as a really good-smelling simmer pot.

Hang up herbs to dry with twine from cabinets that are rarely used.

Invest in that new set of plates and cups.

Homemade jams, butter, sauces, and syrups are your best friend.

Crochet or knit your own dish rags, pot holders, etc.

Don't pour extremely hot things into a glass that's not Pyrex, it will break, and you will be very sad about it.

Don't cook anything while extremely upset or emotional (For safety reasons)

Make recipes you want to make, not just because you'll like the effect. Make it because you think it's tasty.

Chinese Five Spice works in place of herbs for protection and luck spells a lot of the time! It's cheaper to buy 1 spice than 4 different spices that total up to 15 dollars when you could just spend 3-4 dollars.

Take a shower before cooking (I don't know how to explain this one other than it makes you feel better)

Don't use microfiber/plastic material clothes on hot burners, it will fuse to the burner and melt. It is VERY hard to get off.

I don't know if I need to put this one but I did see someone do it so nonstick pan = wooden utensils and plastic utensils, metal pan = metal utensils. Do not use a metal spoon in a nonstick pan, please. It can make you very sick.

Keep your pets away from hot oil, open ovens, and hot pans.

You can proof bread dough in the fridge overnight if you don't have the time to bake, or want to eat fresh bread right in the morning.

Need a quick witchy meal for dinner in 12 minutes? Use premade tomato pasta sauce and doctor it up with thyme, rosemary, and garlic, for protection and distilling stagnant energies. Serve with pasta of your liking.

You can substitute Butter for Crisco/shortening, buttermilk for 1 cup of milk + 1 tbsp apple cider vinegar or lemon juice, and heavy cream for 1 cup of half and half plus 2 tbsp of butter.

Use leftover animal bones to make bone broth

Teach yourself the art of bread scoring (It's fun, and you can show it off to your loved ones!)

Collect and hoard your own and others' family recipes.

Sometimes the food doesn't have to be a spell, sometimes it just makes you feel good and you don't know why.

Listen to your favorite music in the kitchen, it makes the monotonous things like chopping veggies move faster.

Invest in a vegetable chopper if you don't like chopping vegetables.

Find a really good hot cocoa recipe and make it once a week. Master it. Just for your own happiness because hot cocoa is really good. You could also be the friend/family member that makes the best hot cocoa ever.

Focaccia Bread Lasts a very long time, and it's very easy to make!

Keep a first aid kit near where the oven is, in case of burns, cuts, or serious injuries where time is everything.

Quick Bread and no-rise loaves are simple for beginners, tasty, and take little time. They also feel very witchy to make.

Study a bit of Herbalism! It's fun and really helps better understand the herbs you're putting into your food.

While something is boiling, put your wooden spoon over the pot to minimize the chance of something boiling over.

Try a bit of coffee magick, it's simple to get into, and gives you a boost of energy to take on the day!

If you're over 21, wine-making is a very interesting way to celebrate the sabbats. Just with that, make sure you KNOW what you're doing. With anything fermented, there's always a risk if you don't store things correctly. Apple wines, strawberry wines, dandelion wines, etc. all very cool to experiment with. If you're not over 21, vinegar is a similar way to experiment.

Hang up some witchy things, sigils, photos, cool magnets, and other things that give you joy on your fridge. (Sometimes if you are lucky they have some fun magnets at five below)

If you live in the US, for some reason, there are a lot of books in the book section dedicated to witchcraft and spirituality. At least where I live. And they are all under 5 dollars!

Teas are the cheapest and easiest things you can practice being a kitchen witch.

[faithfulren]

messy cooking

late at night in the 1-A dorm kitchen, izuku’s attempt to bake cookies turns into a chaotic mess. y/n steps in to help, and amidst playful flour fights and laughter, they bond over the imperfect but heartfelt moment, realizing they make the perfect team.

----

it’s past midnight, and the 1-A dorm’s shared kitchen smells like chaos.

y/n stands in the doorway, arms crossed and eyebrows raised as they watch izuku fumble around the counters. he’s still in his hero training sweats, his hair even messier than usual, with a streak of flour across his cheek. pots, bowls, and random utensils are scattered everywhere, and a thin trail of sugar leads from the counter to the sink.

“izu..” y/n says, barely holding back a laugh, “what on earth are you doing?”

izuku spins around, wide-eyed and guilty. “i—i was trying to make cookies!” he stammers, clutching a whisk that looks like it’s seen better days. “i thought it would be a nice surprise for you, but, uh… things got a little out of hand.”

y/n steps closer, surveying the battlefield of ingredients. “a little?” they tease, picking up an empty carton of eggs and gesturing to the flour explosion on the counter. “this looks like a sugar monster sneezed in here.”

izuku scratches the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly. “i thought it’d be easy, but i didn’t realize how fast everything happens. and then i forgot to preheat the oven, and, uh… i might’ve added salt instead of sugar at one point.”

y/n snorts, shaking their head as they grab an apron hanging nearby. “alright, chef midoriya. step aside. let me save this disaster.”

izuku blinks, his cheeks flushing. “you… you’re going to help me?”

“of course,” y/n says, pulling their hair back. “but only because you look like you’re about to cry over burnt cookie dough.”

together, they work to salvage the mess. izuku is surprisingly good at taking directions, though his clumsiness doesn’t exactly help. at one point, he accidentally flings a glob of dough onto y/n's cheek, earning a playful glare and a smear of flour across his nose in retaliation.

despite the chaos, laughter fills the room, and by the time the cookies come out of the oven, they’re leaning against the counter together, shoulders brushing and smiles lingering.

“these turned out pretty good,” y/n says, holding up a slightly misshapen cookie.

izuku takes a bite, his eyes lighting up. “they’re perfect,” he says earnestly, looking at y/n with that soft, adoring gaze that makes their heart skip a beat.

y/n grins, bumping their shoulder against his. “they’re messy, but they’re ours. just like this kitchen.”

he laughs, glancing at the disaster zone they’ll have to clean up. “yeah… i guess we make a good team.”

y/n rolls their eyes but leans in closer. “we always do, izu.”

[ricciardosheart]

Hey could you do fic for Toto Wolff with wife reader where she's a chef and he's being her taste tester for her new recipes. Maybe their son, Jack helped (a little bit). Add something you'd like. Tag me later! Thanks :)))

sorry for the delay lol i had not checked my messages, but thanks for the request , hope it did not disappoint, loads of love @pear-1206

Title: Taste Tester Duties Pairing: Toto Wolff X fem!wife and Jack Warning: None

pictures are from pinterest

The kitchen was a beautiful disaster, a blend of chaos and creativity that only came from a day spent experimenting with new recipes. Flour was scattered over the countertops like a dusting of fresh snow, and various kitchen utensils were piled in the sink, a testament to the culinary journey you and your son, Jack, had been on.

You glanced at the clock. It was almost time for Toto to come home. He’d taken on the role of your official taste tester ever since you decided to test out new recipes in the evenings. As a chef, you prided yourself on perfecting every dish, but there was something special about letting your husband, the always-composed Toto Wolff, be the first to try your new creations. And today, with Jack’s “help,” it was bound to be an adventure.

“Mommy, look!” Jack called out, holding up a wooden spoon triumphantly. He’d been in charge of stirring the sauce, but judging by the state of his shirt—and face—half of it seemed to have found its way onto him. Chocolate sauce, no less.

“Oh my,” you chuckled, wiping a smear of chocolate off his cheek with your thumb. “You’re going to be as messy as the kitchen.”

Jack beamed up at you, not bothered at all by the chocolate mayhem. “Papa’s going to love it, right?”

“He will,” you said with a smile, finishing the last of the plating. “Especially when he knows you helped.”

Just as you were setting the dishes out on the kitchen island, you heard the familiar sound of the front door opening. The deep baritone of Toto’s voice followed, speaking a quick goodbye to someone on the phone before he hung up. Jack's face lit up with excitement, and he dashed out of the kitchen to greet his father.

“Papa’s home!” he yelled, his little feet padding down the hallway.

Toto chuckled from the doorway, scooping Jack up into his arms the moment he came barreling into him. “There’s my boy,” Toto said warmly, planting a kiss on Jack’s chocolate-smeared forehead. “Have you been helping Mama again?”

Jack nodded vigorously. “I made the sauce!”

Toto raised an amused eyebrow, following Jack’s enthusiastic pointing toward the kitchen. “I can see that. Very creative.”

You couldn’t help but laugh when they both walked into the kitchen, Jack still perched in Toto’s arms. Toto’s eyes swept over the mess of the kitchen, landing on the immaculate plate of ravioli you had just finished arranging.

“Well, it’s always a good sign when the kitchen looks like a war zone,” he teased, setting Jack down. “Means something special is about to happen.”

“Let’s hope the food looks better than the kitchen,” you said, wiping your hands on your apron.

“I’m ready for my duties,” Toto said, rolling up his sleeves in an exaggerated gesture, a familiar twinkle in his eye. “What culinary adventure have you prepared for me this time?”

You placed the plate of ravioli in front of him with a flourish. “Ravioli with a chocolate reduction sauce. A little sweet, a little savory. And Jack was my sous-chef today.”

Toto glanced between you and Jack, clearly trying to keep a straight face. “A chocolate sauce, you say?”

“I stirred it!” Jack piped up again, climbing into the chair beside his father. “It’s good!”

Toto gave him a playful nod. “Well, if Jack says so, then I trust him. Here goes nothing.”

With that, Toto picked up his fork and carefully cut into the ravioli, making a show of sniffing it dramatically. He took a bite, chewing slowly while you and Jack watched with bated breath.

After a pause that felt much longer than it needed to, Toto’s face broke into a wide grin. “Incredible. Absolutely perfect,” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Sweet, savory, just the right amount of balance. Jack, I think you’re a genius.”

Jack’s chest puffed up in pride. “Told you!”

You let out a relieved laugh, playfully rolling your eyes at the theatrics. “I thought I might have lost my touch there for a second.”

“Never,” Toto said, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “Though I have to say, I was a little worried when I saw the chocolate…”

“You doubt me?” you said with mock offense.

Toto grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Never. But Jack’s taste is a little more… adventurous than mine.”

As if to prove his point, Jack was already poking at the leftover chocolate sauce on his plate, dipping his fingers in and licking them happily. “It’s the best sauce, Papa. Better than what you have on race weekends.”

“Is that so?” Toto asked, pretending to be offended. “Well, maybe I should ask the Mercedes team chef to take some notes from you two.”

“I’d be happy to share my recipe,” you teased, sitting down beside him. “But it’ll cost you.”

“Oh?” Toto raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “And what’s the fee?”

You leaned in closer, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Another date night.”

Toto smirked, leaning in just as close. “Deal.”

Before you could steal a quick kiss, Jack interrupted with a loud, “Ew, Papa, no kissing!”

You and Toto both burst into laughter, and Toto ruffled Jack’s hair. “Alright, alright, I’ll spare you this time.”

Jack grinned, pleased with himself, and then clambered off his chair. “Can I have more sauce, Mommy?”

“Only if you promise not to wear it this time,” you said, eyeing the chocolate stains on his shirt.

As you got up to serve Jack another small portion, Toto stayed seated, watching the two of you with a contented smile. These moments—the little everyday joys of being together as a family—were what he looked forward to most after long days spent at the track or in meetings.

“You know,” Toto said, breaking the comfortable silence, “I think this one is good enough to serve at the next team dinner.”

You turned, eyebrow raised. “Really?”

He nodded, a playful smirk on his lips. “Absolutely. I can already picture Lewis and George fighting over the last plate.”

You laughed at the image. “I’m sure Jack’s chocolate sauce will be the next big thing in Formula 1.”

“World champion sauce,” Toto declared, raising his fork like a trophy. “Courtesy of my talented wife and her apprentice.”

Jack beamed, holding up his spoon in victory, mimicking his father’s gesture. “Yeah, world champion!”

You shook your head fondly at the two of them. “Well, before you go declaring any more world championships, how about we clean up this kitchen?”

Toto groaned dramatically. “Ah, the real challenge.”

“Papa, I can help!” Jack offered, hopping off his chair once again.

Toto exchanged a glance with you, his eyes softening. “Alright, buddy. Let’s tackle this together.”

The three of you spent the next while cleaning up, Jack eagerly running around with a small towel, trying his best to wipe up the counters (which mostly meant moving the mess around). But despite the chaos, there was an undeniable warmth that filled the room—one that came from shared moments, laughter, and love.

As the last of the dishes were put away and the kitchen began to resemble something more functional, Toto pulled you into a gentle embrace, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Thank you for this, liebe. It’s exactly what I needed today.”

You smiled, resting your head against his chest. “I’m just happy you like being my taste tester.”

“I love it,” he said softly, his arms tightening around you. “But not nearly as much as I love you.”

“Papa, come on!” Jack’s voice cut through the tender moment as he tugged at Toto’s sleeve. “Let’s go play!”

Toto chuckled, releasing you but not before planting one more quick kiss on your cheek. “Duty calls,” he said with a wink, before scooping Jack up in one fluid motion.

As you watched them disappear into the living room, their laughter filling the air, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment. Life was messy, but it was yours—perfectly imperfect.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[girlkisser13]

baking with the bau would include

aaron "hotch" hotchner

• aaron would insist on having all the ingredients and utensils ready before starting, ensuring an organized workspace.

• he’d follow the recipe to the tee, measuring ingredients precisely and setting timers for every step.

• his keen eye for detail means nothing gets overlooked, from ensuring the dough is mixed evenly to making sure the oven temperature is just right.

• aaron would make sure to taste the batter or dough, making sure everything is on track, and encouraging you to do the same.

• he’d be diligent about cleaning up as he goes, making sure the kitchen doesn’t turn into a disaster zone.

• throughout the process, he’d engage in meaningful conversation, making the experience not just about baking, but also about spending quality time together.

aaron finished mixing the brownie batter, setting the bowl aside with a satisfied smile. he handed you the spoon, his eyes twinkling. "here, lick the batter," he said, his voice warm and playful.

you eagerly took the spoon, savoring the rich chocolate taste. as you licked it clean, aaron watched you with an amused smile.

"you've got some on your face," he said, leaning in.

you looked at him, puzzled. "where?"

he didn't answer. instead, he closed the distance between the two of you and pressed his lips gently against yours. his kiss was tender, filled with affection.

when he finally pulled back, his eyes were filled with warmth. "got it," he whispered, a mischievous grin on his lips.

you laughed, your eyes meeting his. "you just wanted an excuse to kiss me."

he shrugged, his smile widening. "guilty as charged."

you grinned back, the kitchen filled with your shared laughter.

derek morgan

• expect a lot of teasing and playful banter. derek is known for his charming and humorous personality.

• the two of you would probably have some music playing in the background, and he might even bust out some dance moves while waiting for the items to bake.

• derek would do some research in preparation but much like driving, he likes to "vibe" baking. he doesn’t follow any specific recipe.

• he would enjoy working together, dividing tasks, and making sure you both contribute equally to the baking process.

• after the baking is done, he'd insist on cleaning up together, making sure everything is as spotless as when you started.

derek pulled you into the kitchen, laughter bubbling between the two of you as you slid the tray of cookies into the oven. the smell of chocolate chip cookies filled the air. as the oven door clicked shut, a catchy tune began playing on the radio.

derek’s eyes sparkled with mischief. "dance with me," he said, not waiting for a reply as he took your hand and pulled you close.

you laughed, letting him guide you around the kitchen. "here? now?"

"why not?" his grin was infectious, and soon you found yourself swaying to the music. his strong hands were warm and sure, one on your waist and the other holding yours firmly.

he twirled you around, making you giggle. the tension from the day melted away as you danced, your movements light and easy in his embrace. the radio played on, and derek’s smooth moves made you feel like you were the only two people in the world.

"not bad, morgan," you teased, breathless from the impromptu dance.

"just don’t tell the team," he winked, dipping you slightly, his gaze locked onto yours.

the timer beeped, signaling the cookies were done. reluctantly, you both let go, the moment fading as you turned to the oven.

"thanks for the dance," he murmured, his voice soft.

"anytime," you replied, a smile lingering on your lips as you pulled the tray of cookies out, the warmth from the oven mirroring the warmth in your chest.

elle greenaway

• elle might suggest trying out a classic recipe with a twist, perhaps a family favorite or something she’s been wanting to experiment with.

• there’d be a playlist of her favorite songs playing softly in the background to keep the atmosphere relaxed and enjoyable.

• elle would enjoy the creative aspect of decorating the baked goods, whether it’s piping intricate designs on cookies or adding elegant touches to a cake.

• ahe might introduce you to unique ingredients or healthier alternatives, explaining their benefits and how they can enhance the recipe.

• she’d likely have a collection of favorite recipes and would enjoy swapping them with you, maybe even writing down the one you just made together.

as you finish the last dish, your hands still damp from the soapy water, you glance at the tres leches cake the two of you just made, your excitement barely contained. "elle, will you feed me a piece? my hands are still kind of wet"

elle grins mischievously, cutting a generous slice. "sure thing," she says, but instead of gently offering it to you, she slams the piece into your mouth and bolts from the kitchen, laughter echoing behind her.

you quickly grab a piece and sprint after her, your footsteps thudding through the apartment. you catch up to her in the living room, tackling her to the ground in a playful heap. she squeals as you pin her down, smearing the cake across her face in retaliation.

you both burst into laughter, the sound filling the room. you’re straddling her now, her eyes sparkling with joy. "how does it taste?" she asks between giggles.

you take a moment to savor the flavor before responding, "it’s pretty good, but i think i might need another taste." leaning down, you kiss her, tasting the sweetness of the cake mixed with the warmth of her lips. you pull back slightly, grinning. "i stand corrected. it’s delicious."

emily prentiss

• emily would start by meticulously organizing all the ingredients and tools, ensuring everything is in place before beginning.

• there would be some classic rock or her favorite tunes playing softly in the background, setting a relaxed and fun atmosphere.

• emily would pay close attention to the recipe, following it precisely. she might have a few favorite recipes she's perfected over the years.

• she would insist on tasting the batter or dough at various stages, making sure it's perfect before moving on.

• if something goes wrong, she’d stay calm and patient, encouraging you and finding a solution together.

• when it comes to decorating, emily has an eye for detail, making sure everything looks just as good as it tastes.

as the oven timer beeped insistently, you and emily pulled away from each other, the mix of chocolate and laughter lingering in the air. the cookies you had been so excited to bake were now blackened discs of charcoal, but neither of you seemed particularly bothered.

"you know, prentiss," you said with a grin, "this is exactly what happens every time we try to cook together."

emily raised an eyebrow playfully, a smirk tugging at her lips. "and why is that?"

"well," you continued, pretending to be serious, "it’s because you keep trying to kiss me. the food always suffers."

emily laughed, her eyes twinkling. "you kissed me first!"

before you could say another word, emily closed the gap between you, her lips capturing yours in an intoxicating kiss that made your head spin. when she finally pulled away, her eyes sparkled with mischief. "i guess we’ll just have to rely on that bakery around the corner."

you laughed, your senses still reeling from her kiss. "lead the way," you said, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the door.

jennifer "jj" jareau

• she would have a clear plan for what you’re baking, including a well-thought-out list of ingredients and steps.

• jj would likely start with a kitchen check, making sure all the utensils, mixing bowls, and ingredients are ready and within reach.

• as someone used to working under pressure, jj would likely keep things running smoothly, ensuring that everything is done in a timely manner.

• expect some unique twists on classic recipes, as jj would bring her creative side into the baking process.

• given her warm and approachable personality, there'd be plenty of light-hearted moments and encouragement throughout.

"alright, we need to make sure we have everything within reach before we start," jj says, scanning the kitchen with a critical eye. "can you grab that bowl for me? it’s a bit too high up."

"sure thing," you say, dragging over a small ladder. as you climb, you feel jj’s hands steadying you, her hands resting firmly on your ass.

you laugh, glancing down at her. "is this really necessary?"

"yes," she replies with a grin. "just grab the bowl."

you chuckle, reaching up and grabbing the bowl. as you step down, jj takes the bowl from you with a playful smile. "see? you can be helpful."

you roll your eyes, grinning. "glad i could assist, agent jareau."

jj laughs, setting the bowl on the counter. "let’s get baking, shall we?"

penelope garcia

• penelope would likely bring vibrant, playful recipes that reflect her quirky personality, perhaps including fun shapes, bright colors, and unique flavor combinations.

• expect upbeat music playing in the background, creating a lively, cheerful baking environment.

• penelope would add personal touches to the baking, like customized decorations or themed treats that reflect inside jokes or interests.

• the baking session would be filled with engaging stories, lots of laughter, and maybe even some spontaneous dance breaks.

• she’d be encouraging and enthusiastic, offering lots of positive reinforcement and making sure you’re having a good time.

you and penelope stood side by side in her kitchen, the aroma of sugar and butter filling the air. she was animatedly flipping through her phone, holding it up triumphantly. "trust me, this strawberry and vanilla swirl cake is going to be amazing. i saw this recipe on tiktok, and it’s supposed to be incredible."

you eyed the ingredients skeptically. "but we were planning on a classic marble cake. you know, chocolate and vanilla. it’s a safe bet."

penelope pouted playfully, her glasses sliding down her nose. "come on, just this once. i promise you’ll love it."

with a sigh, you finally relented. "alright, alright. let’s do the strawberry and vanilla."

an hour later, the cake was cooling on the counter, its swirls of pink and white creating a mesmerizing pattern. penelope handed you a fork with a grin. "time for the taste test."

you took a bite, and your eyes widened in surprise. the combination of sweet strawberry and creamy vanilla was unexpectedly delightful. "okay, i admit it. it’s really good."

penelope’s grin widened as she leaned in for a quick kiss. "i told you so."

spencer reid

• spencer would likely come prepared with research on baking techniques, ingredient substitutions, and even the history of certain recipes.

• he’d meticulously follow (or even improve) a recipe, explaining the science behind each step, from the role of baking powder to the importance of precise measurements.

• spencer might suggest experimenting with unusual ingredients or techniques, eager to test out new ideas and learn from the results.

• expect deep, engaging conversations on a variety of topics, from criminology to literature, as you bake together.

• he’d be attentive to every detail, ensuring that everything is measured accurately and timed perfectly.

as you and spencer knead dough together, his voice flows like a gentle stream. "did you know that flour has been used for thousands of years? the earliest evidence of flour comes from around 10,000 bc in the middle east. it was made from grinding grains between stones."

you watch him with a smile, his enthusiasm palpable. "really? i didn’t know that."

"yes! and the ancient egyptians were baking bread as early as 3000 bc. flour has been a staple for millennia. it's fascinating how something so simple can have such a rich history."

his excitement is endearing, and you can’t help but reach out with your flour-covered hand, patting him gently on the cheek. "you’re adorable when you get excited about these things."

spencer’s eyes widen in surprise, and he starts to laugh. "hey, wait a minute—"

before he can finish, you flick a bit of flour at him. his laughter turns into playful mock outrage, and he retaliates with a sprinkle of flour of his own. soon, the kitchen is filled with laughter and white dust as you both engage in a light-hearted food fight.

in the midst of the chaos, spencer grins at you, a streak of flour across his face. "well, at least we’ve added a new chapter to our flour history."

you laugh, catching a glint of his joy, and nod. "definitely a memorable one."

a/n: RAHH!!! thank you so much for 800 followers!!! i really appreciate all of the love and support. <33

[zibiscusloon]

Akhakajaajjka lord this is so in character for all of them- 😭😭😭

(I’m sorry but the one with Ross & Lilith completely did me in-)

The entirety of Hell at Ross & Lilith:

Some prompts I did with mutuals oc’s

(Oc’s belong to @zibiscusloon, @marshmallow-biscuit-blog, @iinksp1llz, @queenkittycat123 and me!)

Smithy: *sad about something*

Ron: oh, it’s ok, sweetie! Tomorrow will be better!^^

Smithy: really?

Vessel: we don’t know! :P

Ron: *punches vessel* >:(

-

Rooty: a dead end, I’m doomed!

Vessel: well, you lived a good life!

Rooty: I’m only 10!

Vessel: I said good, not long.😒

-

Vessel: thanks for the water, Spector. I dunno why I’m so parched!

Solone: you’re a thirsty bitch! :D

Blind Spector: solone-

-

Millie: uncle vessel, are YOU wearing a blindfold?

Vessel: haha, no, but with these cataracts I might as well be! *looks at windshield* what is that, a woodpecker? *hits wender*

-

Lilith: you dirty BITCH! Look what you’ve done to my peonies!

Ross: they’re marigolds!🙄

KD: by god, I think she’s right! They are marigolds!

Lilith: I may not know my flowers, but I know a bitch when I see one!! >:(

Ross: >:O

This is so stupid I’m sorry-