#gonna eat a frozen pizza

[familyvideostevie]

clocking at the girl-doesn’t-want-to-go-out-tonight-but-is-going-to-make-herself-go factory

[pink-lemonadefairy]

[iamfitzwilliamdarcy]

I do NOT have my life together this morning

[tocourtdisaster]

Well, just based on how my insides look, my doctor thinks I have celiac. We’re waiting for the biopsy results to come back to make that official, but it looks like there’s going to be a lot of cooking in my future.

[b-blushes]

LOVE to feel excited for tomorrow! i'm gonna eat PIZZA! >:)

[filet-o-feelings]

I forgot I had a meal delivery yesterday (I had a really good discount!) and had just bought a ton of groceries so now I have way too much food that will probably go bad before I can eat all of it...

but all I want to do is order a pizza because I'm sad

[notwaitinginthecorner]

It's always a beautiful day when it's raining and ur cleaning and there's a candle lit and you work up a great appetite and get so excited to cook for yrself tht u start planning for what you'll make tomorrow

[imwritesometimes]

got a bad case of 'too much going on brain overloaded body shutting down completely' today ✌️🥴

[arcadequeerz]

watched rly cool streamer play pizza tower d:) was rly fun! gotta see some battles I hadn't seen before d:D

[nebula-nights-reblogs]

been depressed in bed sleeping all the time but realized that oli was straight vibing w me the whole time. how can it be a depressive episode if it’s a party 😏😏😏

[phagodyke]

lmfao my flatmate ate my fucking pizza

[jonny-b-meowborn]

Fuck i took some painkillers and took a giant nap but I still feel like shit why is my body like this

[kenobers]

nsfw alphabet | Jason Todd

what the title says ! tw; explicit sexual content, gn!reader a/n; like always, these are just my thoughts and headcanons

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Jason's gonna make sure you're comfortable afterwards. He'll wipe you down, check that he didn't go too far. If you leave afterwards, he'll make sure you get home safe. If you stay, he'll offer you a t-shirt to sleep in. For a while, he wasn't big on the physical aspect of aftercare, but eventually pulling you to his chest becomes second nature. It's like your head fits just right in the crook of his shoulder. Hey, maybe the body heat will keep with the inevitable soreness you'll feel tomorrow. He's big on eating after sex. If you have enough energy, he'll order some Chinese or throw a frozen pizza in the oven. Sometimes it's kind of astonishing how the man will fuck you until you're more than a ragdoll, then immediately demolish like three Big Macs.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves hands. He loves his hands. They're big and strong, they can protect you, please you, provide for you. He adores the way you feel under them, soft and clean. He loves to feel you press against his palm while his fingers disappear inside of you. He loves your hands, the way they feel on his skin. No matter their size, they always look so small wrapped around his cock. He cherishes every mark your fingernails leave along his back, every sting they leave on his scalp when they twist his hair. He loves that your hands can go from caressing his scars to replacing them.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Jason loves the sight of you, sweaty and panting, with your stomach and thighs decorated in white. He's a little more possessive than he likes to admit, and he secretly feels like he's marking you as his whenever he finishes all over your skin.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He loves having high sex. When the weed hits just right, so the world reduces to nothing but you...that's that good shit right there. He gets so locked in that there isn't a single thought that could pull him away. He's numb in every place that isn't touching you. It adds a certain level of passion, of desperation, for each of you because your senses are so heightened to each other. However, it isn't very often that he feels both of you are to the same level of inebriated for it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He isn't as sexually charged as you would think and he typically waits to get to know a person before having sex with them (with a few exceptions, like for a certain crime lord's daughter). So in that regard, one of his body counts is significantly higher than the other, but he's had enough experience to know what he's doing. He knows what he likes and he knows how to figure out what you like.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

So long as your legs are hooked over his hips, he's happy. Jason particularly loves it when he's on his knees while you're on your back with your hips angled over his thick thighs. It lets him get deep inside of you while still being able to look at your pretty face. Not to mention, he loves grasping your hips, spreading your legs wide. (According to trusted resource, SexPositions.Club, this is position 5. Aquarius) He also loves having you up against things. Against a wall, on the kitchen table, the handle bars of his motorcycle. The way you hold onto him in more ways than one really adds something to the moment. And yeah, maybe it allows him to show off his strength to you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Jason's tone depends on the time and place. For the most part, he's serious. He teases you, lets out a low chuckle when he gets a sought after reaction from you, but it isn't humorous. But sometimes...sex is just incredibly unserious. Like lazy morning sex, when neither of you can be bothered to do much more than roll on top of one another. Like you're horny, but Jason looks so goofy with his hair sticking up and you're a real beauty queen with your crusty eyes. Or the aforementioned high sex, when both of you are so lost in your pleasure and giggles.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

His autopsy scar stops where his happy trail begins. Before you were a regular in his bed, he didn't really think to groom himself much. But he figured he should show you some decorum, so he keeps the dark patch of hair reigned in.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Jason doesn't take sex lightly. It's either a tool or a declaration of love (no matter how lazy). If he's using sex as a tool, he isn't going to be very intimate. He'll praise you, sing songs about your body, but it isn't going to be very personal. However, when you're in an established relationship, he's very intimate. There's much more kissing and eye contact, lots more "that's my baby" instead of "that's it, baby".

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Oh yeah. Usually only if you're gone though. He'd rather have the real deal. But sometimes...if he thinks about you for a little too long...well, it's hard to hide all that when you're his size...it's just polite for everyone else if he just deals with it.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Jason's kinks are sort of a revolving door. He likes to go rougher and he likes to be in charge typically, but everything else is dependent on your moods. One day he'll blindfold you, the next you'll tie his hands together while he gives you orders you have to follow on your own. He'll be daddy once, then sir the next, but his favorite thing to here is Jason. He also gets a thrill out of doing it with the Red Hood mask on. He's also got a praise kink. There's nothing that gets him going more than hearing you babble about how good he's making you feel, about how much you love him. It goes the other way as well. He loves to tell you how good you feel, how beautiful you are, how well you're taking him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Where ever the mood strikes. Generally speaking, his apartment is his favorite place. There isn't a particular room, he just likes the knowledge that this is your space to do as you please. But he does get a little thrill whenever you manage to do it somewhere risky.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

It's cliche as hell, but the sight of you in red really does work wonders for him. If he can see your nipples through your shirt, it's over. Watching you doing or say something intelligent is a huge turn on. He likes to watch you work for it. The way you oh-so-conspicuously bend over to pick something up or shiver so your chest sticks out. Make a suggestive face as you drop an innuendo only he understands and he'll see to it that your efforts don't go unrewarded.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He's not a voyeur. If he's gonna do it in a public setting, it's gonna be in a closet or a bathroom stall; somewhere that still shields your bodies from prying eyes. That's just for the two of you. Now, of course there's exceptions - like if you're trying to piss off your mobster father by fucking on his property, then he'll get a little cheeky for the security cameras.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Jason is nothing, if not a giver. Just lay back and let him take care of it, baby. This is something he can spend hours doing. His tongue knows just where to work you, he knows just how much teeth you like, where the biting boarders on pain. And if his fingers aren't right next to his mouth, they're kneading your skin, raking his nails across your stomach with a featherlight touch, massaging the kinks in your thighs so you can open them a little more. If nothing else, his mouth and hands can cover a lot of ground.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Jason likes it fast and rough. He'll drag out foreplay to his heart's content, but once you're good and ready, he's fucking you like his life depends on it. Then he's flipping you over and doing it again. That said, he has his slow and sensual moments. After a rough night when he's feeling particularly sentimental and grateful for you, he'll take all the time in the world just to watch you underneath him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Pro quickie, but usually if it's an appetizer for what comes later on. It's hard to take a dick that big and casually go on about your day. So, most of the time quickies look like his fingers sneaking down your pants during your lunch break, his head between your thighs in the bathroom at a charity event, or you on your knee taking care of him before patrol.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

As mentioned earlier, his kinks are a revolving door, so he would be down to experiment. He's pretty good about saying no when he needs to, and if he trusts that you can do the same, then he's open to trying new risks.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

No one recovers like this man. He can go for as many rounds as your heart desires. Unless he's already been yearning the whole damn day, Jason can last until the cows come home.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't have any toys for himself and doesn't really like to use them on his own body. However, he likes to use the vibrator on you, especially during foreplay. He likes to watch as you curl into him and shake with pleasure while he drives the toy between your legs - especially knowing that it won't be enough to satisfy you for long.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He likes to tease up to a certain point. If you're out doing something, he'll keep sliding his hand higher and higher up your thigh, then pull away completely, or lean down to say something to you so that his breath hits your neck in that one sensitive spot... But once your clothes are off, he can only restrain himself for so long.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Low groans and swears. His mouth as a mind of its own when he really gets going as he praises you, teases, calls out to you. You're his Baby, his Pretty Thing/Girl/Boy, so so good for him, taking it all like this. Oooh. Look. At. You. You can always tell when he's close because his panting turns to grunts, his sweet nothings become more intense as they strain between his teeth.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He's secretly a little self conscious about his body, particularly about his scars. Like, yeah, he's big and muscly and people always say they dig scars, but...some of his are, like, real nasty. Not to mention, that some of them have triggering memories attached to them. He finds his autopsy scar to be especially gross. It takes up so much of his chest and it doesn't seem to want to fade like the rest of his marks tend to do. So for a while when you first started having sex, he found ways around taking his shirt off. And if it did come off, it was in the dark. Once he works up the courage to finally show you all of him in proper light, he's surprised when you're more fascinated with it than anything. He can't suppress the shiver that runs down his spine when you press your lips to the crux of that T-shaped stamp. He probably won't ever love his scars, but he'll always adore the way you treat them.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He's a big guy and is very proportional. He's a solid 8 inches standing tall and girthy. He's a lot to take in, which is why he's very adamant about getting an orgasm out of you before penetration.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His libido is strong for you. As previously stated, he's not as sex charged as you would think, but he does have a strong desire for you. He initiates sex fairly regularly, but he doesn't feel the need to paw at your clothes 24/7.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He almost always waits until you fall asleep. If you manage to fall asleep quickly, then he'll follow suit typically.

[hale-of-stiles-heart]

ugh I think I'm gonna have to run to the store to grab something to eat 😔

[hurtspideyparker]

The team learns about Peter's stress baking fairly quickly after he moves into the tower.

"Why does this place smell like cookies?" Tony asks suspiciously, "Pepper put an end to homemade care packages after that Cap incident."

Steve protests from the dining table. "Hey, that fan seemed totally normal. Y'know in my generation you do not mess with baked goods, that's sacred."

Natasha pats his back comfortingly as she joins the conversation.

"They came from the kid. They're actually pretty good, here."

Nat hands a still-warm cookie to Tony, who bites it curiously.

"Damn, it melts in my mouth like buttery ambrosia and still has a perfect crunch around the edges. Is that a nutty aftertaste?"

"Yes!" Peter yells from the other room, a clatter sounding before his head pokes around the wall, oven mitts still attached to his hands.

"I brown the butter, it really deepens the flavour!"

"Good on you kid. What's the occasion?"

Peter stutters, "uhhhh, no occasion. I just like cookies!"

He disappears around the corner again, and Tony sends a confused glance towards his teammates.

Steve shrugs his shoulders, mouth still full of cookie, and Natasha sends him an arched brow. Tony isn't sure what that means, but feels intimidated enough to exit the room anyway.

* * *

The baking lasts the rest of the week, until Peter comes home yelling, "I aced my calculus midterm!!!" running out of the elevator with a stapled set of papers in his hand.

"So no more baking?" Nat asks neutrally.

"Nope! Woohoo!"

Just like that the kid is gone, jumping down the hall towards his bedroom.

Tony looks at Nat quizzically.

"It was midterm week. He baked 3 dozen cookies, 2 types of muffins, and a cheesecake."

"So he stress bakes?"

"He stress bakes."

* * *

It becomes a "thing" in the tower.

Sam eats toast from freshly baked bread one morning while watching Bruce quiz Peter on his upcoming AP history test. Each slice is cut, toasted, and buttered to perfection by Peter while he explains sectionalism in the 20th century.

* * *

Bucky grates carrots while Peter mixes a bowl of dry ingredients furiously, the boy mumbling to himself non-stop.

"Has he gone insane?" Clint asks from the doorway.

"Spanish oral exam," Bucky replies.

"Ay caramba."

"Tal vez pueda sobornar a mi maestra con glaseado de queso crema..." Peter starts mumbling. (Maybe I can bribe my teacher with cream cheese frosting...)

Bucky and Clint share a concerned look.

Clint approaches the boy, "put down the spatula Pete, let's talk about this."

Peter looks up in alarm.

"In English! Just English!"

* * *

"What's up kid? It's spring break, what could you possibly be stressing about."

Today Tony walks into a full kitchen; Wanda, Natasha, and Pepper are occupying the space while Peter pours something creamy into a metal bowl.

"He's asking MJ out tonight, so he's making cookies and cream ice cream in case it goes wrong." Natasha crosses her arms when she replies to him, eyes focused on Peter's mixing.

"Does ice cream even count as stress baking? The very meaning of 'bake' is to put under heat. But I suppose it does feel wrong to call it cooking."

Peter looks up, his brown eyes large and sad like a baby cow, "I still baked the cookies from scratch."

"Yeah he's a real Nara Smith!" Wanda adds enthusiastically.

"Oookay... I'll pretend I know what that means. And since when do we have an ice cream maker?" Tony points to the fancy hardware out on the kitchen counter.

"Oh, I got that for him. We lacked a lot of the tools for basic baking recipes," Pepper informs him.

Tony ponders how ice cream machines count as a basic baking tool, and decides not to argue with three powerful women and their favourite lovesick teenager.

Peter picks up his bowl and moves it into the freezer, clearing away a couple frozen pizzas and a bag of peas.

"Should I even bother with the cones?" Peter asks with a pout.

"Pete she's gonna say yes! Also if you're wallowing in misery with a tub of ice cream we still want our cones so we can emotionally support you with a crunchy treat," Wanda says with a supportive smile.

The others nod along.

"You're right!" Peter agrees before turning around and grabbing an honest-to-god waffle cone maker, with the cone shaping kit to boot.

"Why..." Tony begins to protest, "y'know what, I don't care. Let me know how it goes kid."

The man is ignored as he moves through the kitchen to grab a banana, the women coaching Peter on his manners, flirting, and first date ideas as he exits the room.

* * *

Thor hums around the delicious treat.

"Mmm. You know young Peter, you could have a shop for your creations. Is there a Stark Industries for baked goods?" Thor asks the young lad, crumbs falling from his mouth as he chews the cookie bar.

"I didn't invent the blondie Thor. I was just trying to explain what it is, a cookie brownie! I did decorate them all by myself though," he says with a satisfied grin.

"Ah yes," Thor lifts up another blondie by the pretzel stick Peter put in the squares, attached with a bit of melted chocolate so they're shaped like Mjolnir, "now you are all worthy of the hammer. Ha! This is funny, I'm sure the others will find your talents equally amusing."

Peter picks up his own mini-Mjolnjr and waves it around, "it is I, son of Odin. Don't worry puny Midgardians, I will protect you with my mighty hammer and beautiful hair!"

Thor laughs thunderously at the impression, clapping.

Bruce walks into the room, enticed by the laughter.

"Ah! My friend, Peter has made edible Mjolnirs so you, too, may be worthy. It's delicious and hilarious. Imagine Banner wielding my hammer, ha! Ridiculous," Thor is all too amused by the situation.

Bruce gives Peter an offended look as Thor continues laughing with himself, the younger just shrugging. Bruce takes one of the treats anyways, pointedly not holding it by the pretzel stick.

"Y'know Pete, have you ever considered opening a bakery? You are quite talented. I think the Avengers alone would keep you in business," Bruce asks politely.

"Well I only like to bake when I'm stressed. That wouldn't be a very stable business model," Peter points out.

"True. Although running a business can be quite stressful, so maybe you'd have a continuous supply?"

"Hm. Efficient and unhealthy," Peter nods like it's the perfect plan.

"Wow you really are Stark's intern."

Thor bursts out into another bout of raucous laughter.

"Imagine Stark wielding my dessert hammer," Thor barely gets the words out, "Stark being worthy-AH HAHA."

Bruce and Peter share a look of wide-eyed alarm before joining in on the laughter.

They all share the moment before Bruce straightens up a bit to ask, "what are you even worried about anyways Peter?"

Peter wipes a tear from his eye, "I forgot to call Aunt May this morning like I always do and she only let me move here if I promised I wouldn't neglect her. So now I'm too scared to check my phone."

"I see," Bruce sympathizes.

"Yeah, baking is good for procrastinating. I pretend I'm being productive while also creating comfort food for after my breakdowns."

* * *

Tony steps into the dining room one afternoon to find Peter slicing apples while Steve sits across from him cutting intricate patterns into pie crust. There is an array of leaves and flowers set out on the flour-sprinkled table.

"So is the ornamentation necessary, or is Cap also developing a delicious self-soothing habit," Tony inquires.

"I was just talking to Peter about pie recipes from the 40s and he asked if I could help make his prettier," Steve smiles up at his companions, "it's actually a lot of fun, I can't say I've ever used food to make art before."

"He's a natural talent Mr. Stark!"

Tony agrees with the quirk of an eyebrow and cheeky sideways nod. He observes for a moment before asking something that's been bothering him recently.

"Pete, I gotta ask. Why baking? You inherited your Aunt's terrible cooking skills, and it's not like you're built for other domestic duties. Your room is a mess. What gives? How are you so... refined?"

Peter pauses his chopping to look up incredulously.

"It's science Mr. Stark. Baking is just chemistry! I'm great at chemistry," he says with a grin.

Tony thinks about it.

"Huh. I guess you're right. So, what has you stressed this time? Girl troubles? You get too good a grade in P.E. and Flash is suspicious? Decathlon competition?" Tony lists off some of his previous turmoils.

He hopes it's the decathalon again, those butter tarts were divine.

"Um. Can I finish my apple filling before I tell you? I'll lose motivation if you start yelling at me..." Peter says with a hopeful smile, strain lying underneath it.

Tony's eyes narrow.

"Okay so I maybe blew up your test tubes when trying to develop fire webs and Dum-E may have covered your entire lab in fire supression foam."

Tony's jaw clenches, "I'm gonna let you stew in fear for a bit longer because apple is my favourite - if this was pumpkin you'd already be squashed - but best believe I'm not done with you yet." Tony slowly takes a deep breath before pointing a finger at Peter. "Never change kid, never change."

Tony leaves, distinctly in the opposite direction of his lab, and Peter goes back to slicing apples, now with a genuine smile on his face.

[cornerstoreclown]

Mornings with Art? I think it’s a cute scene to imagine Art eating while reader comes in (all sleepy and groggy and out of it cause they just woke up), wordlessly kisses him on the cheek, and makes her breakfast

Writing this before bed. So if there’s errors, I’ll get ‘em tomorrow. For now here’s some domestic shit. I did add dialogue though, I hope that’s okay! I was trying to think of how to go about it without words but then I just went wherever my head led me.

F!Reader x Art

———————————

Ever since he’d come home one particularly bad night due to a victim that just so happened to be carrying a firearm, he’d been taking it easy on himself. A few bullet wounds here and there, which you helped him patch up with the standard bandages and gauze, but for the most part he took his injuries in stride, opting to lay low and keep indoors for however long he decided. Dying was hard when you were a supernatural force, which you knew he very well was. You let him borrow the spare room to work on whatever gadgets and gizmos he wanted to create for his next escapade–for whatever that might actually entail.

As long as you’re not at the end of his knife, gun, mace–whatever weapon he decides to use, you’re fine with it. Though you know one day you might end up with one of those weapons lodged in your back or in your skull, you pray that it never happens. The first mistake would be to get comfortable around this man and let your guard down, which you never did.

However, it’s moments like this, when he’s sitting at the kitchen table when you head downstairs for breakfast that really make you want to do otherwise. Especially right now.

Art was sitting right at the kitchen table, eating frozen pizza from last nights dinner, and he’s doing it rather politely, you note. One slice on a paper plate, napkin nearby, and another slice being daintily held with both hands as he quietly and gently chews each bite he takes.

You have to remind yourself he killed someone last month and ate a rat last week. But it doesn’t stop you from tiredly smiling as you watch him through your unkempt hair that obscures part of your vision.

He merely regards you with a look, still munching away.

Fatigue whispers in your ear and urges you back to your warm and comfy bed. But whether you’re burdened by school, work, or both, there’s no rest to be had.

“Hey,” You yawn tiredly, walking your way to the coffee machine. It was either that or tea this morning. Art was a tea kind of guy, so you put on the electric kettle for him.

He resumes eating, almost finishing his first slice. He’s now got one leg crossed over the other as he assesses you in your oversized t-shirt, munching away on the crust. He has an aura of sassiness to him this morning with that body language.

“Yeah, yeah, I look rough, I know. Not all of us are divas when we wake up,” You lean against the counter, folding your arms across your chest. “And pizza? For breakfast? Come on.”

Art just responds in kind with fluffing up his imaginary hair and then flipping it over his shoulder. Bad hair day? Couldn’t be him!

“You got any plans for today, or are you just gonna go back to crafting shit in my spare room?”

Art shrugs his shoulders as he reaches for the second pizza slice, this time ripping off parts of the cold sauced and cheesed up flatbread to pop in his mouth in a very prim manner. He’s been very into letting his whims lead his decisions as of late.

“Gotcha.” You remark, not sure where to continue the conversation immediately, but you don’t need to worry about that as your coffee has finished brewing and the electric kettle has heat up the water. You sweeten your coffee to taste, as well as Art’s tea in a timely manner. He liked his drinks sweet. Anything bitter was an immediate no. With the remaining hot water in the kettle, you use it to make yourself instant oatmeal.

You plant a kiss to his cheek which he allows as you put his drink down near him. You take your seat on the other side of the table where your oatmeal waits, coffee mug in hand, watching him eat. Silence passes between the two of you until you finally voice what you’ve been thinking for the past few minutes.

“Can you rip me off a piece?”