#kitchen mischief
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jojomills · 2 months ago
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You may scoff, you may shame, you may curse me, but I have made a dark discovery amongst the arcane epicurean magics. Forget warm tuna salad noodles. Forget pineapple anchovy pizza. I submit for archival approval by the Academy of Culinary Curios: the peppered salami and banana sandwich.
Before y’all lose your minds in a rage, anyone who loves a good Hefeweizen beer knows exactly the flavor profile of my latest creation. Spiced, porky, yeasty, banana-y.
Slices of hearty and/or dark bread, toasted, butter on one, mayo on the other. Thin layer of black pepper salami, and a layer of 1/3-1/2 banana of medium to full ripeness, cut in thin rounds. Take it to mouthville and weep as with the transcendent beauty of the unknowable sights and sounds of strange dimensions and alternate cosmos.
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rmhashauthor · 2 months ago
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This weekend I made a Tandoori roast chicken for my work lunch and let me tell ya, it was
Excellent.
I spatchcocked it (cut the spine out and laid it flat), rubbed it all over with tandoori spice paste, then laid it in my reliable turkey roaster where I cooked it in the oven at 375°F and turned it every 30 minutes for 2 hours. The skin got all crispy because I used the wire rack in my pan and it got these really nice "scorch" marks from the tandoori paste caramelizing. The bones pull right out of the meat, so I've been eating it with long grain white ans wild brown rice and it is FANTASTIC.
The only thing I will do differently next time is marinate the whole chicken in a tub with plain yogurt and tandoori paste - that should make the chicken juicier and more deeply infused with flavor. My next endeavor is Hyderabadi Biryani 😁
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p1nkshield · 1 year ago
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Jason: What are you making?
Dick: Haute cocoa.
Jason: Hot cocoa?
Dick: No. Haute cocoa. I am making the best, and fanciest cup of hot chocolate in gotham.
Jason: Is that a cup of corn starch? How much milk are you using?
Dick: Equal parts!
Jason:...Equal parts?
Dick: I gotta make it thick somehow! All fancy hot cocoas are thick. Now where is Alfred's homemade vanilla...
Jason: mmkay. ALFRED! DICK IS MAKING NON-NEWTONIAN HOT CHOCOLATE WITH YOUR GOOD VANILLA!
Dick: Shh Shh Shh! No nonono please! Why would you tell him that!
Alfred: Master Dick...
Dick: -hOW DID YOU GET HERE SO FAST!
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that-butch-archivist · 8 months ago
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"A clean countertop is always ready for special occasions." (Photographed by Phyllis Christopher.)
source: The Femme's Guide to the Universe, written by Shar Rednour
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deepwaterwritingprompts · 2 years ago
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Text: My mother made a deal with a demon, her remaining Decembers for my safe delivery. I spend the last month of every year with her body, and the visiting dark inside. 
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slav-every-day · 1 year ago
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siixkiing · 2 years ago
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@rage-reloaded​ { ☯ }
●﹁🍑﹂○ ❝ I mean, you'd save time. ❞ She's getting ideas...
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“Sweetie, do NOT get the leaf blower. No leaf blowers in the kitchen.”
Oh no, his granddaughter is having IDEAS right now. 
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phoenixiancrystallist · 1 year ago
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Reminds me of @whoarei's post:
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how could you like the colour yellow
see a therapist immediately
I actually used to hate it! Like, actually despise it! Yellow was too bright, too loud, discordant, unruly, and clashed with everything. Nothing like what I wanted in my life, nothing I wanted to be.
When I first moved away from home, everything I owned was black. Jet back. As black as I could get. Smooth, cool, sleek, discrete, calm, unassuming. Flexible, cohesive, agreeable black. Fashionable black.
I had a really, really bad time. Unrelated to the decor. It was my first year out of a toxic place I'd grown used to my whole life, my first year acknowledging a mental illness I'd believed to be normal, my first year fending for myself with very little money or sleep or companionship.
I'd grown up on instant white rice and unseasoned ground beef. One day I realized that everything I'd been raised on tasted like cardboard. While out on an assignment, I passed a tent with a woman selling spices, and bought myself some turmeric. I went home and tried making curry with it. It was so yellow.
Another time, my professor took us out to a modern art gallery. I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but when we got there, the whole building had been painted bright sunshine yellow.
The artist's theme was "happiness".
What it is. How we make it. How to share it.
All bright, lovely yellow.
The house I grew up in was beige. The walls were white. The appliances were post 9/11 stainless steel. My job was to be quiet, compliant, presentable and agreeable.
Black goes with everything. Black is neutral. Black is quiet, reserved, elegant and mysterious.
Yellow is warm. Yellow does what it wants. Yellow tastes sweet and spicy and hot and cool, like a summer breeze, like sunflower petals, powdery like dust on a long dirt road and soothing like well-worn linen.
I still like the look of black. I like the look of most colors. But I like the way that Yellow makes me feel.
Do you understand?
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dispatchvampire · 11 months ago
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Today I DIY air fried some ravioli. I'm madly in love
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pucksandpower · 7 months ago
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Oscar Jack Piastri-Leclerc
Charles Leclerc x wife!Reader
Summary: congrats … it’s a boy!
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You wake up to the sound of the apartment door closing, followed by Charles’ familiar footsteps down the hallway. Sunlight streams in through the curtains as he enters the bedroom, still dressed in his sweaty workout clothes.
“Mon amour, you’ll never believe what just happened,” he says, unable to contain his excitement.
You rub the sleep from your eyes. “What is it, babe?”
“I adopted Oscar Piastri.”
You blink a few times, unsure if you heard that correctly. “You … adopted Oscar Piastri? The McLaren driver?”
“Yes!” Charles exclaims, flopping down on the bed beside you. “It all started when he tweeted about wanting to find Monégasque roots so the Monaco Grand Prix could be his home race.”
“Okay ...” You try to wrap your head around this bizarre situation.
“So I replied saying I could just adopt him if needed. And you know how Oscar is, always ready with a witty comeback.” Charles grins. “He said to call him Oscar Jack Piastri-Leclerc and that he wants to meet Leo on Thursday at McLaren.”
“Charles ...” You can’t help but laugh at the sheer absurdity. “You can’t just adopt a fully-grown man! Especially another F1 driver!”
“Why not?” He throws his arm around you, pulling you close. “We’re gonna be one big happy family. The two of us, Leo, Oscar, Ollie, and whoever else we decide to adopt along the way.”
You playfully shove him away. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
“Maybe a little.” Charles winks. “But you love me for it.”
Rolling your eyes, you get out of bed and head for the kitchen, Charles trailing behind. “So does this mean Oscar is coming for family dinner this Thursday?”
“Of course! We have to celebrate properly.” Charles scoops Leo up from his bed, cradling the puppy in his arms. “What do you say, Leo? You ready to have another big brother?”
Leo licks Charles’ face, tail wagging excitedly. You lean against the counter, watching your husband and puppy with a fond smile.
“I suppose I’ll have to set an extra place at the table,” you muse. “Your mother is going to flip when she finds out about this.”
“Maman keeps asking when we’ll give her grandchildren, she’ll be thrilled!” Charles insists. “Who wouldn’t want Oscar as a grandson?”
You snort at that. “Grandson? You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”
“I’m serious!” He sets Leo down and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “We can make it official. Have a baby shower and everything once this weekend is over with.”
“You’re unbelievable.” You shake your head in amused exasperation, resting your hands on his chest.
Charles leans in close, his warm breath fanning across your face. “Admit it, my particular brand of crazy kinda does it for you.”
You bite your lip to stifle a grin. “Keep talking and maybe I’ll consider it.”
His eyes spark with mischief and he dips his head to capture your lips in a searing kiss. You melt against him, tangling your fingers in his hair and kissing him back with equal fervor. A loud bark from Leo breaks you apart, both slightly flushed.
“Not in front of the puppy,” Charles teases, booping Leo on the nose.
You swat his arm. “Stop being a brat and go take a shower, you’re all gross and sweaty from the gym.”
“Mmm, why don’t you join me?” He waggles his eyebrows in an over-exaggerated leer.
You laugh, shoving him away playfully. “Not a chance, mister. I have to go out and buy another place setting for our new family member.”
“Can I at least have a good luck kiss? It’s Monaco race week, after all. I’ll need all the luck I can get.” Charles bats his eyes at you in an exaggerated pout.
Shaking your head fondly, you rise up on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “There. Now go get ready.”
Still grinning like a loon, Charles saunters off to the bathroom. You crouch down and scoop up Leo, pressing a kiss to the top of his fuzzy head.
“Your dad is something else, you know that?” You murmur affectionately.
A few hours later, you return home laden with groceries to find Charles lounging on the couch scrolling through his phone. He looks up as you enter, eyes bright.
“Good timing, I was just about to call you.”
“Oh yeah?” You set the bags on the counter and start unpacking. “What’s up?”
“I was thinking ...” Charles gets up and comes over, wrapping his arms around you from behind. “We should do something special for Oscar’s first official family dinner. Maybe a nice home cooked meal out on the balcony?”
You lean back against his chest with a contented hum. “That does sound lovely.”
“I’ll cook!” Charles volunteers immediately. “My famous carbonara?”
“You just want to show Oscar you can manage to make something without burning the apartment down, don’t you?” You laugh, twisting in his embrace to face him.
Charles ducks his head sheepishly. “Maybe a little.”
“Well, I’m not complaining.” You peck him on the cheek. “Go ahead and make your carbonara for our new adopted son.”
“Yes!” He pumps his fist in the air victoriously.
You shake your head at his antics, warmth blooming in your chest. “I love you, you big goof.”
The smile Charles gives you is utterly radiant. “I love you too.”
He pulls you in for a deep, lingering kiss, holding you close. You get so lost in the moment that you don’t notice Leo trotting up and pawing at your legs until he lets out a pointed bark. Laughing, you reluctantly break the kiss.
“Sorry, baby.” Charles scoops up the puppy, scratching behind his ears. “We didn’t mean to leave you out.”
You take Leo from his arms, pressing a smiling kiss to his soft fur. “Don’t worry, you’ll always be our favorite.”
“That’s right,” Charles agrees, booping Leo’s nose. “No matter how many race car drivers we adopt, you’ll always be number one.”
The three of you spend the rest of the afternoon lounging contentedly together, Charles and Leo snuggled up on either side of you. It almost makes you forget the madness that kick started this whole situation in the first place.
Almost.
A few days later, after the drivers have finally been freed from their Thursday media obligations, your doorbell rings. You share a look with Charles as Leo starts barking.
“I’ll get it,” he says, already knowing who it is.
Sure enough, a few moments later Charles returns to the living room with Oscar in tow, looking rather sheepish. You rise to greet your new son.
“Oscar, hi! Come on in.” You pull him in for a hug, which he returns tentatively.
“Sorry about all … this.” Oscar gestures vaguely as you part. “I was just joking on Twitter but then Charles actually went and-”
“Adopted you, yeah.” You laugh. “Don’t worry about it, we’re happy to have you as part of the family.”
“Still getting used to that idea, to be honest.” Oscar scratches the back of his neck.
You wave a dismissive hand. “Well, get ready for lots of family gatherings and parental nagging from this point on.”
“Oh boy.” Despite his words, Oscar’s mouth quirks up in an amused grin.
“Starting with tonight’s big family dinner out on the balcony,” Charles interjects, slinging an arm around Oscar’s shoulders. “You like pasta?”
“Do I ever.” Oscar brightens. “Is Leo gonna be there too?”
“Of course! Can’t leave out my favorite son.” Charles scoops up the puppy, plopping him in Oscar’s arms. “Here, get acquainted with your new little brother.”
“Hiya little guy,” Oscar says softly, instantly melting as Leo licks his face. You watch the tender interaction with a warm smile.
“He’s taken a real shine to you already,” you comment. “I think Leo approves of his new big brother.”
Oscar ducks his head shyly but you can see the corners of his mouth tugging up into a grin. “Guess that makes me an official part of the family then.”
“Damn right it does!” Charles crows, throwing an arm around each of your shoulders and pulling you both in for an enthusiastic group hug.
You laugh, squished between them. “Easy there, dad. You’re gonna smother the poor kid before he’s even settled in.”
“What, you’re not excited to finally have your dream son?” Charles teases, ruffling Oscar’s hair affectionately. “Our little family is complete now.”
Rolling your eyes fondly, you extricate yourself from the embrace. “Why don’t you boys go set up for dinner while I start cooking? The balcony still needs to be prepped.”
“You got it, mon cœur.” Charles drops a kiss on your cheek before herding Oscar out towards the balcony, Leo cradled in his arms. “Come on, son. Let’s get this place looking perfect for your first official Leclerc family dinner.”
You shake your head as their voices fade down the hall, chuckling under your breath. Only your husband would take a silly Twitter joke this far. But as you start gathering ingredients for your grandmother’s legendary bolognese recipe, you can’t help but feel a swell of contentment.
Having Oscar around is certainly going to take some getting used to. But there’s no denying the warm affection and familial love you already feel towards the bashful but kindhearted young man. He fits right in with the playful, chaotic energy that defines your little household.
By the time the sun begins to dip below the horizon, bathing the apartment in a warm golden glow, the balcony is set up beautifully. You carry out the steaming pots of food to find Charles and Oscar setting out plates and glasses, Leo scampering around their feet. Your heart feels full just looking at them.
“This all looks wonderful, you two,” you say, setting the food down on the table. “Now we just need the guest of honor to arrive.”
“Maman’s never been late to dinner a day in her life,” Charles assures you. “She’ll be here any minute.”
Sure enough, there’s a rapid knocking at the door only moments later. You share an amused look with Oscar before going to answer it, Charles and Leo trailing behind.
“Maman!” Charles exclaims as you pull open the door to reveal his mother waiting on the other side. “Perfect timing.”
“Of course, we can’t start dinner without-” She breaks off abruptly as her eyes land on Oscar hovering behind you. “Charles, darling, who is this?”
“Maman, I’d like you to meet Oscar.” Charles beams as he gestures between them. “Your new grandson.”
A heavy silence falls over the room as Charles’ mother processes this bombshell. Her gaze flicks between the three of you, searching your faces for any sign that this is all an elaborate prank.
Finally, she seems to deflate with a sigh. “Oh Charles … what have you done now?”
And just like that, the floodgates open as both of you rush to explain the situation, talking over each other eagerly. Watching the animated scene unfold, Oscar catches your eye with a helpless look.
You just shrug, a soft smile playing at your lips. Chaotic as it is, this is your family now and wouldn’t have it any other way.
***
The following week, the doorbell rings just as you’re putting the final touches on dinner. Charles bounds over to answer it, Leo hot on his heels.
“Oscar! Ollie! Good, you’re both here.” Charles’ voice carries easily through the apartment.
You poke your head out of the kitchen, oven mitts still on. “Is that our other son I hear?”
“The one and only!” Ollie Bearman strolls in behind Oscar, looking completely at ease.
Oscar raises an eyebrow at the younger driver. “Why is nobody surprised you’re here?”
Ollie shrugs nonchalantly. “Teen pregnancy?”
You let out an undignified snort of laughter as Oscar gapes at him. “Don’t look at me, Charles carried you for nine months himself.”
“What?” Ollie whips his head around to stare at Charles in abject horror.
Charles just grins, slinging an arm around each of their shoulders. “You heard the woman. My body is a wonderland.”
“Oh my god.” Oscar buries his face in his hands as you dissolve into peals of laughter. “Why are you like this?”
“Because it’s fun to watch you squirm,” Charles replies cheerfully.
You wipe tears from your eyes as you head back into the kitchen. “Dinner’s just about ready, come grab a plate! Oh, and pray you don’t get food poisoning.”
Soon you’re all settled around the balcony table, tucking into plates piled high with food. Ollie kicks things off by turning to you with a smile.
“This is amazing, thanks for cooking!”
“Don’t thank me, it was all Charles this time,” you say, gesturing to your husband sitting across from you.
Ollie’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You cooked all this? Damn, maybe having you as a dad won’t be so bad after all.”
Charles throws his hands up in mock offense. “Hey! I’ll have you know I’m an excellent father.”
“If you say so.” Ollie smirks, shoveling another forkful of pasta into his mouth.
Oscar just shakes his head in amazement. “I still can’t believe you actually went through with adopting us.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Charles leans back in his chair, casual as can be. “You’re both great kids. Perfect sons.”
“Even if we didn’t ask for it?” Ollie points out around a mouthful of food.
You tsk disapprovingly. “Mind your manners, young man.”
Ollie’s eyes go comically wide and he quickly swallows his bite. “Sorry, mum.”
That sets you and Oscar off into another round of laughter. Even Leo gets in on the action, letting out a little bark from where he’s curled up nearby. Charles watches the scene with fondness.
“See, you’re already fitting right in,” he says warmly once the laughter subsides. “My two idiot sons.”
Ollie opens his mouth to retort but you cut him off, leaning across the table to affectionately pat his hand.
“Don’t listen to your father, Ollie. We’re happy to have you both here.” You shoot Oscar a wink. “Even if you did get adopted under … unusual circumstances.”
“You can say that again,” Oscar mutters, but he’s smiling.
Over the course of the evening, you take great delight in watching Charles easily slip into the role of devoted dad. He makes terrible jokes and embarrassing comments at every turn, clearly intent on annoying his new children as much as humanly possible. Yet it’s impossible to miss the deep well of affection beneath his teasing words and actions.
For their part, Oscar and Ollie play along enthusiastically. They roll their eyes and groan as if put-upon, but you can see the sparkle of happiness and contentment in their eyes as the night wears on. An easy camaraderie develops between the trio, fueled by plenty of back-and-forth needling and good-natured ribbing.
You sit back and watch it all with a permanent smile etched on your face. Your strange little family just keeps growing, and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.
At one point, you excuse yourself to use the restroom. When you return, the three of them have their heads bent together conspiratorially, hastily falling silent when you reappear.
“What’s this?” You raise an eyebrow as you retake your seat. “Am I being left out of the loop here?”
Oscar shares a look with Charles before turning to you with a sly grin. “We were just thinking ...”
“This family isn’t quite complete yet,” Ollie picks up easily.
You glance between them, utterly perplexed. “What are you two on about?”
Rather than answer, Charles pulls out his phone and starts typing furiously. A few moments later, your own phone buzzes with a Twitter notification — a new tweet from your husband.
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Your jaw drops as you read the words over and over. “Charles! You can’t be serious!”
“Why not?” He shoots you an impish grin, clearly reveling in your stunned reaction. “Kimi’s a good kid, he’d make an excellent addition to the family.”
“I … you ...” You sputter, completely at a loss for words.
Oscar and Ollie watch the exchange with matching looks of unrestrained glee. Ollie raises his glass in a mock toast.
“To Mum and Dad, the most extra parents on the grid!”
You shake your head in bewildered amusement as they all crack up. This family just gets more ridiculous by the day.
A short while later, Kimi responds to Charles’ tweet.
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The notification sets off another round of laughter and delighted hollering from the three drivers. You hide your face in your hands, torn between mortification and hysterical giggles.
“I can’t take you three anywhere,” you mutter, though you’re smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.
A warm arm wraps around your shoulders as Charles leans over to press a smiling kiss to your temple. “But you love us anyway.”
You catch his gaze, momentarily speechless by the contentment shining in his eyes. For all the silliness and absurdity, it’s clear just how much this strange little family truly means to him.
Swallowing past the sudden lump in your throat, you reach up to cup his cheek tenderly. “More than you’ll ever know.”
He beams at you, pure adoration written across his features. Then the moment is broken as an Italian-accented voice rings out from the hallway.
“Hey, did someone call for a new son?”
Oscar, Ollie, and Charles practically tumble over each other in their haste to greet the newcomer. You hang back, taking a moment to catch your breath as you watch the now quartet bound back onto the balcony, a fresh wave of chaos and noise in their wake.
One thing’s for certain — life is never going to be boring with this group around. You shake your head with a soft chuckle, heading back to join your one-of-a-kind family.
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missdynamighttt · 3 days ago
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bf! katsuki would DEFINITELY be the type to bite on your shoulders.
the first time it happened was when you both were tangled together on the couch, the room dimly lit by the flicker of the tv premiering a corny rom-com film katsuki deemed was "cringe and unrealistic."
katsuki had pulled you close, his arm slung lazily over your waist. as you shifted to get comfortable, his lips brushed against your bare shoulder. what started as gentle kisses suddenly turned into a playful bite.
"katsuki... did you just bite me?"
his crimson eyes held a hint of mischief as he grinned at you, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly.
"maybe. gonna do something about it, sweets?"
"... no."
"mhm, thats what i thought."
after that night, whenever you two were close—whether you were cooking together in the kitchen, cuddled up together on the couch, or having the most brain-melting sex —it became a habit for him.
katsuki’s lips would always find your shoulder, his teeth grazing the curve of your skin. it wasn’t rough, but it wasn’t soft either. it was a lingering, claiming touch that sent shivers down your spine every time.
it wasn’t just physical; there was something possessive in the way katsuki did it. he never said it outright, but you could feel it in the way his teeth lingered. it was oddly intimate, like he was claiming a piece of you that no one else could see.
"katsuki!" you whine as you feel his teeth sink into you, eyes rolled to back of your head as he thrusts inside of you.
"what, you don't like it?" he teased, his breath hot against your neck, kissing the spot he previously bit.
"i-it's weird! why do you do it, 'nyway...?" you gasp, his hands gripping your hips tighter.
"dunno. 'cause it feels good. 'cause i can," he grunts, his movements becoming rougher. "plus, the way you react... it's kinda hot."
"how?"
he pulled back slightly, his eyes roaming over your flushed face and he gave you a lazy smile.
"the way you squirm. the little gasps you make. the way your breath hitches when i do it... it's hot."
"perv."
he chuckled at your response, his arm tightening around your waist. "maybe," he murmured against your skin, his lips finding their way back to your neck."but i'm your perv."
"fuck," tears pool at your eyes, clinging onto him. "katsuki, gonna.."
"yeah? cum for me baby, c'mon," he breathes as he slams you down on his cock, his thrusts becoming sloppier and more eratic as he chases both of your release.
katsuki bites into your shoulder again, the pressure of his teeth on your sensitive skin driving you mad. your body trembles in response, the sensation of pain and pleasure mixing together as the intoxicating smell of sex floods your nose.
afterward, he pulls away from your shoulder, his lips immediately finding yours in a deep, passionate kiss. the bite might have been intense, but the kiss that follows is tender, his lips moving against yours with an affectionate yet sure touch.
the kiss slowly breaks, but his lips linger close to yours. he gazes at you intently, his eyes searching your face for any signs of discomfort or doubt. he wants to make sure you're okay, that the bite didn't go too far.
"you okay?" katsuki looks at you as if you're his entire world. he reaches up to brush a strand of hair away from your face, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.
"yeah," you nod, still trying to catch your breath as you recover from the aftershocks of pleasure.
"good," he hums, his voice gruff but tinged with a hint of affection. he can't resist the urge and leans in again, his teeth sinking once more into the tender skin of your shoulder. he immediately kisses the spot afterward, his lips gentle against the reddened skin.
it's his love language. its his way of telling you that you're unequivocally his.
a/n: real self indulgent. happy holidays everyone 💜💜💜
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ivedonemywaiting · 2 years ago
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Sirius pouring milk STRAIGHT INTO THE BAG
James: HELP! I TOLD LILY I WOULD MAKE DINNER TONIGHT BUT I CANT COOK!!!
Sirius, pouring milk straight into the cereal bag: and you thought I could Help?
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reidrum · 13 days ago
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under the mistletoe
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note: happy first day of reidrumas! a nice little munch!spencer to keep you warm <3
summary: in which penelope uses a plant to get her friends together, or the time you find yourself under the mistletoe with spencer
cw: smut 18+ minors dni, munch!spencer, fingering, oral (f receiving), heavy kissing, idiots in love, friends to lovers, fem!reader, reader wears a dress and heels
wc: 2.8k
12 days of reidrumas
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The annual BAU Christmas Party became an accord Penelope headed all on her own, and was a job she took very seriously. The amount of times the team had been called away on a case near or on a major holiday is too sad a number to count, so whenever there was certainty that there would be no case or bureau event, Penelope went all in.
That is, on David Rossi’s credit card, of course.
Light up sleighs and reindeers adorned the front lawn of Rossi’s mansion, of which was decorated with red ribbons and twinkle lights galore. The silhouette of the biggest Christmas tree you think you’d ever seen was illuminated in the window as you approached the front, rubbing clammy hands down the sides of your dress.
You don’t even know why you’re so nervous, just that you are. While it had been some time since you had joined the team and you have definitely had some fun nights out with them, the nerves never get easier to deal with when you know a certain genius will be in your presence.
It seemed everyone knew of your crush on Spencer except the man himself. The way your face heats up when you’re near him, the words tripping over each other as you try to speak, somehow are not dead giveaways to him. If he notices your nerves, he doesn’t mention it, and you don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing.
A call of your name from the bottom of the stairs grabs your attention, and you see none other than Spencer coming up the stairs to meet you. He straightens out his sweater and looks at all of you, “You look nice.”
Suddenly you forget what words are, “Um…I.. thanks! I just got this, and I thought the antlers would be cute too.” you gesture to the light up headband. 
“They’re really cute.” he smiles and gestures you to walk in, and you’re both ambushed by Penelope immediately.
“You’re here! Oh, you look so cute with your little reindeer antlers,” she gushes, “And Spencer! Looking so dapper!” You both walk down the hallway with her, seemingly leading you to the kitchen when she abruptly stops halfway.
“You’re too cheery. What did you do?” you squint.
“Don’t hate me.”
Your eyebrows raise, “What did you do?”
“Why would we hate you?” Spencer says at the same time.
Penelope pauses, and with a hint of mischief in her voice, “Look up.”
Your eyes trail upwards to the arch of the door you’re both stood in, and there hanging with its leaves and red and white berries tied in ribbon, is of course, mistletoe.
“Penny.” you mumble under your breath. If she heard you she paid no mind, only beaming at you both with her Cheshire cat grin. You look over at poor Spencer, who’s sheepish smile and red cheeks are breaking through his stoic demeanor. 
“Did you know mistletoe in nature is actually poisonous? It’s a parasitic plant that has to grow on other trees in order to survive. But it’s holiday tradition comes from Norse mythology when the son of Odin is killed and his mother is so upset her tears turn into the berries on the plant, as a symbol of her love for him.” Spencer rambles out of nervousness.
“That sounds nice Spence,” Penelope grabs both of your hands and positions you in front of each other in the doorway, “Okay great, I’m sure you know the rules of mistletoe. Now kiss.”
“Penelope.” you lightly chide. Her persistence is a match for no one, there’s no way of getting out.
“You have to, that’s the rule! If you don’t, Christmas will be ruined!” she sighs dramatically.
You blink at her a few times hoping she understands that she’s out of her mind and that it’s a little cruel to put you and Spencer in this situation. This is probably his worst nightmare. He has that thing with germs you remember and you both are merely friends so there’s no way he’d see you like that, yet alone want to kiss you because a plant said you had to.
Spencer clears his throat in front of you, and says with a soft voice, “Well, if it’s going to ruin Christmas…”
Huh. Maybe not as cruel as you think.
You turn your head to meet his eyes, “You’re okay with this?”
He nods sheepishly, “I—I mean I love holidays, and even though I’d never done this part of Christmas, I’d hate to break tradition….”
You look at him with disbelief, but Penelope’s smile could not be wider and she squeals, “Amazing! Okay, I’m ready.”
You both look at her knowingly, and she immediately puts her hands up. “Alright, fine! I can take a hint. But, I want details later, both of you.” she busies herself off in the kitchen.
Spencer turns his body to face you, hands tentatively reaching out to ghost the curve of your hips. His eyes look to you for permission, and with a slight nod he takes purchase, bringing you closer while resting his hands on your sides. You gingerly place your flat palms on his shoulders, and it’s then you realize just how close you both are. His breath fans softly against your face, and even in heels you find yourself rising a bit further to meet his lips.
Just mere milliseconds before your lips meet he whispers with the softest pitch you’ve ever heard, “You sure this is okay?”
You think you give him a nod and a word of approval, but it’s lost as soon as you press your lips onto his with no hesitancy. His hands pull you closer to him, leaning deeper into the kiss. The endorphins run loose before  being corralled immediately as the kiss ends as quickly as it began.
He pulls back and he stares at your puffy lips, lips that are puffy because of him and it’s enough to drive him insane. He needs to find a way to have you like that again, to feel your lips against his again fearless of a watchful eye, to show you that he really doesn’t give a damn for tradition, but would do rituals and ceremonies on end if it meant getting to kiss you like that again.
You’re about to say something when your name is called from the living room, the other girls now noticing your arrival and waving you over to grab a drink. You look between them and Spencer, “I should go,” you say reluctantly, “Find me later?”.
He smiles softly, “I’ll find you later.”
You hesitate before moving, wondering if it’s even a good idea. But you realize you’re already this far deep, so what difference would it make? Your eyes dart between the girls and Spencer once more making sure they’re not looking, and rise to your toes again to kiss his cheek, “See you later, Spence.”
A blush rises to his cheek as he touches the spot with his fingers, watching you walk into the living room. You might be the death of him, he thinks.
The party’s gone on, games of white elephant are played and countless wine bottles are scattered around the place. He finds himself in an aimless conversation with Matt and Luke, he thinks they’re talking about some sport, but all Spencer can think about is you and your damn lips.
You’re addictive, he’s come to find. He’s had a taste of the forbidden fruit and now fully empathizes with Eve, thinking if something was as nectarious as you, he’d also have to go to great lengths to get it again.
He excuses himself from the conversation, not caring if they said anything, and goes off to find you. You’re sat on the loveseat with JJ that’s entirely too small for the two of you, but you certainly look comfy wedged into the seat. He circles around the back, resting a hand on your shoulder to let you know of his presence and bending down to whisper in your ear, “Is this a good time to find you?”
You startle a little at the voice, calming once you recognize it to be Spencer. You’re surprised he actually came and found you like he said he would, and by the look of his face it seemed like a determined mission.
“I’d say it is,” you smile up at him, his body looming over you behind the couch. He holds a hand out for you, “I’ll be back, J.” you tell her as you stand up. She looks between you and Spencer and a smug look rises to her face.
“Okay…be safe.” she winks. You groan.
Spencer leads you away from the bustle of the living room and further into the depths of Rossi’s mansion. You both walk side by side, talking aimlessly about anything and everything, grateful to have moments just walking with each other. You push open on a fancy door, revealing a vastly large room but with the same crown modeling as the rest of the place. A three piece couch set rests in the middle, and bookshelves filled with antiques line the walls.
You’re intrigued by the telescope pointed out the window, bending down to look through it. Spencer looks up from the book he’s holding on the other side of the room and watches you. You’re ethereal, the moonlight casting a soft glow on your figure making you look like an angel from above. You gaze through the lens to look at the stars, and he can’t help but wonder how lucky he is to have you in front of him and not in the sky with the rest of them.
“Can I confess something?”
You straighten your back and turn around, eyes widening, “Um, sure.”
“Nothing scary, I promise,” he reassures.
“That’s not concerning.”
He takes a deep breath, “I had an ulterior motive, when I came to find you.”
Your brows furrow nervously, “What do you mean?”
“No no, I meant it, it’s nothing bad,” he confesses, “I just… really wanted to kiss you again.”
Oh. “Me?”
“Yes, you. Who else?” he chuckles.
You stammer, “W—Well, I just wasn’t sure…”
He nods and slowly walks to you, “Would that be okay?”
You look up at him and see that he’s so close again. The waft of his cologne invades your senses. His hair is long again, you told him once he looked good with long hair and he hasn’t so much as looked at some scissors since then. The ends of his curls tickle your forehead when his head dips, lips mere nanometers away.
“Yeah.” you barely muster an audible whisper.
The corners of his lips twitch, “Yeah?” he says in the same pitch, leaning even closer.
“Please.”
His lips press to yours again for the second time this night, and he kisses you with a fervor you couldn’t comprehend. He brings one hand up to cradle the back of your head, padding the impact as he uses the other to back you against the wall. Your hands come up to tangle in his hair, lightly tugging on the roots that makes him fold even more into you.
Kisses travel down the side of your neck to the nape, and he spends time littering the area with lovebites. The soft gasps that leave your mouth only spur him on, but it’s not nearly enough for him.
“Sweetheart,” he pants between kisses, “Need to—fuck—need to taste you, please. Can I?
Your blown out eyes meet his, and it wasn’t even an option to say no when he was begging you so desperately, “Yeah, yes, please.”
His hand snakes through the slit on your dress, tracing the edges of your panties and grinning when he hears your breath hitch. He toys with the edge some more before dipping a finger below the band, never touching you where you really need him but getting awfully close.
“Spence..” you whine.
He groans, “Fuck, you sound so pretty saying my name and I haven’t even touched you yet.” He puts you out of your misery when he finally drags the pad of his index to the bundle of nerves at your center, tracing light circles that draw the prettiest moans he’s ever heard.
You grip his forearms for more stability, feeling your legs turn to jelly. Spencer sees your struggle and wraps an arm around your waist, “I got you, pretty girl it’s okay.” A few more minutes of teasing you and marking you relentlessly and he decides you’re okay enough for him to stand on your own, so he can sink to his knees in front of you.
He doesn’t break eye contact as he crouches down, making sure you’re okay every step of the way. His finger is still tracing a line from your clit to your entrance, the wet line seeping through your panties. He bunches up your dress and silently gestures to you to hold it, and steadies his hands on either side of your hips. He presses chaste kisses up your thighs, your breath getting heavier with each one closer to your center. The delirium hits an all time high when he presses a firm kiss to your core.
Skilled fingers hook your panties to the side, revealing you in all your glistening glory, “Look at you,” he marvels hoarsely, “that all for me?”
You nod fast, “Yes, yes Spence please.” you whine out, you’d sound like you were in pain if it were anyone else.
“Hey, hey it’s okay, don’t do that. I’m gonna take care of you, promise.” he coos, calming your pleas, “Come on, leg on my shoulder.”
The new angle opens you up beautifully for him and he can’t help himself when he leans in and swipes a tentative tongue through your folds, satisfied when he hears the sound of a guttural moan leave you.
You immediately slam your hand over mouth as he taunts, “Careful sweetheart, can’t be too loud or someone’s gonna walk in.”
You try to keep your moans and whimpers to a minimum as he continues eating you out like a man depraved, like all he was meant for on this earth was to be between your legs. He prods a finger around your entrance and slowly slips it in, you whimper and clamp your fingers into his hair tugging tightly.
Spencer groans into you at the feeling, and adds another finger swiftly moving them in and out. You’re getting close, he can feel it from the way you clench around his fingers, unable to stop himself from thinking about how you’d feel clenching around him.
“Ah—I’m….I’m close.” you whimper.
He speeds up ever so slightly, “Yeah? Okay angel, you can let go, it’s okay.”
Soon your climax washes over you, with you gripping his hair tightly and his fingers never faltering as he rides you through it. He slows down his pace as you come down before gently taking them out and giving you one last lick through your folds before standing up.
You yelp but it’s quickly muffled by him kissing you again. He feels you smile into the kiss and matches you before you both start giggling and pull away.
He can hear the smile in your voice when you rest your forehead on his shoulder, “That was…”
An arm wraps around you again to hold stable, “Good, I hope?”
You press a soft kiss at the base of his neck, “Really good. I guess we have to thank Penny now.”
“Actually…”
“What?”
“I may have been the one to tell her to put some mistletoe up.” He confesses sheepishly.
“You told her? S—So you could…like…” you ramble.
“So I would have a chance to kiss you, yes.”
You get real shy in front of him as if he wasn’t on his knees for you five minutes ago, “That’s really sweet…you could’ve told me.”
“I wanted to! But I thought you might not feel the same way because I notice how you are around me and I didn’t want to overwhelm you, but then Penelope told me you felt the same and I just figured one of us had to pull the bandaid off.”
You smile shyly, “I get nervous around you, because I really really like you.” you quietly admit.
He pulls you close into his chest, kissing your forehead softly, “Well that’s good then, because I really really like you too.”
Penelope is obviously over the moon when she finds out, giddy as can be knowing her two best friends are now together. What she doesn’t tell you, is how she sends the mistletoe to a preservation company to be pressed and framed. She’s just preparing to have the best gift ever to bring to your wedding.
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dio-niisio · 9 months ago
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I love the idea that Batman has a Dad Instinct™. Like he just knows when one of his kids is in trouble! Whatever it is, it can be because of a villain or because they are causing mischief he just knows!
It can obviously be infuriating for the batkids, like he's in the middle of an important meeting with the Justice League and suddenly he just stops talking and goes in his personal comms and starts to bicker with Nightwing saying "No, you can't go bust that cartel alone. I don't care that you and Jason are fighting you are going to take him with you-" and you can hear a distinct "But daaaad!!" from Nightwing.
Or he just says "Don't you dare." when one of his kids is in the Watchtower with him and starts looking at Flash with mischievous eyes.
Or even better he starts to treat some of League members just like he treats his kids! Like "Don't touch that." when Green Lenten takes a step too close to one of the buttons near the windows (he was going to open the windows when the sun is directly hitting on said windows, probably temporarily blinding some people). Or "57 boxes of Oreos is too much even for you, my friend." when Martian Manhunter looks at the kitchen again (he eats too much of the stuff and is starting to become a problem).
Or when he looks at our baby Billy Batson and he has a feeling that he needs to take care of him but that's Marvel! And he's clearly a grown man! Right? (It doesn't help that he just can't find anything on him)
He cares too much for his on good
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rafedarling · 21 days ago
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Drew losing his wedding ring 🤫 but he left it behind at home and y/n finds it inside his laundry basket she goes shit crazy looking for it and since y/n know she plays dumb wanting to teach him a lesson and she’s like baby I’m getting our rings cleaned l tomorrow can you leave your ring on the counter and he’s just rambling and coming up with excuses Intill he finds his ring will Drew continue to lie or confess
cute!!!
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠
pairing: drew starkey x fem!reader
summary: drew, your husband who accidentally leaves his wedding ring in his laundry basket, prompting you, his wife to find it while doing laundry. instead of confronting him immediately, you decides to teach him a lesson by pretending not to notice while teasing him about getting plan taking your rings to cleaned.
warning(s): english is not my native language. fluff, humor, and playful teasing, slight secondhand embarrassment, wholesome, domestic vibes.
au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. ⭐️ taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy @winniemoe @emberaurora
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It had been a long but pleasant evening, and as you glanced at the overflowing laundry basket in the corner of your bedroom, you figured it was time to tackle it. Drew was lounging on the couch, flipping through TV channels, blissfully unaware of the mischief you were about to stir up.
Laundry had become a bit of a ritual for you both; a chore that came with its own rhythm and quirks. Drew was the “dump-it-all-in-and-hope-for-the-best” type, while you meticulously checked pockets and separated clothes by color. And it was during one of these pocket inspections that you felt something hard and metallic inside the pocket of his jeans.
You pulled it out and froze.
His wedding ring.
Your brows knitted together as you stared at the small band in your palm. Drew was practically married to his ring he wore it everywhere, even in places he didn’t need to, like the gym or while swimming. It had been a running joke between you that he might as well glue it to his finger. So, finding it stuffed in his laundry was unusual, to say the least.
You chewed on your lip, debating whether to call him out immediately or let him stew a little. Then, with a devilish grin across your face. You slipped the ring into the pocket of your pajama pants, decided not to mention it, and returned to the living room. You’d let him sweat it out.
When you entered, Drew was crouched by the couch, pulling cushions off and muttering to himself.
“Babe, what are you looking for?” you asked, keeping your tone as neutral as possible.
Drew froze mid-search, then quickly straightened up.
“Oh, uh… nothing. Just… the remote.” He gestured vaguely to the couch, his voice a little too high-pitched to be believable.
You raised an eyebrow.
“The remote? The one sitting on the coffee table?”
You pointed at the remote, lying in plain sight directly in front of him.
“Oh.” He let out a nervous laugh, grabbing it. “Right. That one.”
You fought to keep a straight face as you handed it to him.
“Here. Anything else you’re looking for?”
“Nope! All good.”
He said it too quickly, his voice strained, as if he was trying to convince himself.
“Mm-hmm,” you murmured, heading back to the bedroom.
Once you were out of sight, you retrieved the ring from your pocket and tucked it into your jewelry box for safekeeping. If Drew was going to lie, you’d at least make it entertaining.
The next morning, you were up a bit late and padded into the kitchen to find Drew already there, nursing his coffee. His hair was adorably messy, sticking up in all directions, and he was wearing your favorite flannel pajama pants the ones you swore made him look cozier than ever. He grinned when he saw you.
“Morning, babe. Coffee?” he offered, gesturing to the pot.
“Yes, please.”
You slid onto the stool at the counter, resting your chin in your hand as you watched him pour. That’s when your eyes zeroed in on his left hand still missing the ring. You couldn’t resist any longer.
“Drew,” you began casually as he placed the cup in front of you, “uh…where’s your ring?”
He froze, fingers tightening slightly on his mug.
“Oh, uh… my ring”
He cleared his throat and quickly recovered, spreading his hands in front of him as if to inspect them.
“Right. My ring. I, uh, must’ve taken it off when I was… washing my hands last night. You know how slippery soap gets.”
You nodded slowly, playing along.
“Slippery soap. Got it.”
He relaxed slightly, clearly thinking he was off the hook, and took a long sip of his coffee. But you weren’t done yet.
“You know,” you said, feigning nonchalance,
“I was thinking we should take our rings in for a cleaning. They’ve been looking a little dull lately. How about I drop them off at the jeweler tomorrow?”
Drew nearly choked on his coffee. “Uh… cleaning?” he repeated, his voice cracking slightly.
“Yeah,” you said sweetly. “You can just leave your ring on the counter before work, and I’ll take care of it.”
For a split second, you thought he might actually combust.
“Oh, uh, sure! Totally,” he said, his voice pitched high with panic.
“I mean, it’s probably… in the bathroom. Or… maybe on the nightstand? Or, uh—” He stopped himself, clearly spiraling.
You tilted your head, giving him your most innocent look.
“Are you sure you know where it is? You seem a little… distracted.”
“I know exactly where it is,” he insisted, though the way his eyes darted toward the ceiling betrayed him.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Oh, I’m not worried.”
You sipped your coffee, pretending to be absorbed in your phone.
“I mean, it’s not like it’s that important, right? It’s just a ring.”
Drew’s head snapped up, his expression stricken.
“It is important!” he blurted out, a little louder than necessary. “I didn’t lose it, okay? I—uh…I just… misplaced it. Temporarily.”
“Of course,” you said, nodding sympathetically.
“That makes total sense.”
He let out a shaky breath, clearly not realizing you were toying with him. Over the next few hours, Drew became increasingly frantic, sneaking off to various rooms to search for the ring. You caught him rifling through the bathroom drawers, peering under the bed, and even checking the fridge at one point.
By evening, he was sitting on the couch, head in his hands. His usual confident demeanor had crumbled, and guilt was written all over his face. You decided it was time to put him out of his misery.
“Drew,” you said softly, sitting beside him, “is there something you want to tell me?”
He looked up at you, his blue eyes filled with regret.
“Okay, fine,” he admitted, throwing his hands in the air.
“I lost my ring. I don’t know how, I don’t know where, and I’ve been freaking out about it all day. I didn’t want to tell you because I thought you’d be mad, and”
You reached into your pajama pocket and pulled out the ring, holding it between your fingers.
“Looking for this?” you asked, unable to hide your grin.
Drew stared at the ring, his jaw dropping.
“Are you kidding me?” he asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and relief.
“I found it in your laundry last night,” you explained, laughing.
“I wanted to see how long it would take for you to confess.”
He groaned, leaning back against the couch.
“You’re evil, you know that?”
“Maybe a little,” you admitted, sliding the ring back onto his finger. “But you deserved it for lying to me.”
Drew pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your hair.
“I’m never taking this off again,” he promised, kissing your temple.
“Oh you better not,” you teased. “Or next time, I might just pawn it.”
He laughed, shaking his head.
“Remind me never to underestimate you.”
“Smart man,” you said, leaning against him with a satisfied smile.
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fluffylino · 1 month ago
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no nut november with minho 🍮
you realise eating pudding is his way of controlling himself...
-contains suggestive themes (plz he's pudding boy)
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you think minho is great at holding out.
its november and from the very first day of the month, he grumbled about how stupid the whole idea was.
accepting the challenge when you tell him you made a bet with jisung for fun.
both of you being full of pride could not possibly lose to jisung, who you were sure would end up jerking off on the 2nd day of november.
to your surprise, he had faithfully vowed to practice no such actions.
minho, on the other hand seemed to get through his days fine. a little too fine, because even you found it difficult to not drool over your boyfriend.
you know him to the extent that you know how he sticks to challenges.
there is no way he would ever let y'all lose against jisung. just so he could rub it in his friend's face about being the winner.
he does the normal things he does. washing up, sitting with his head on your lap after a long day, eating pudding with you.
lots and lots of pudding.
dozens of them stacked in the lower shelf of the fridge.
its the 26th of november and you have to admit its getting harder and harder. for you atleast.
"min, whatcha doing in the fridge?"
you walk into the kitchen, finding him crouched down. he had been there for longer than five minutes.
"mmhmm" is all you make out with what he's saying.
"huh?" walking over to him in confusion.
"m' eating pudding" he tries to say more clearly. and you peek over the fridge door to see three empty glasses of pudding.
"didn't you just eat pudding like two hours ago?"
and he blinks at you extremely slowly.
still seated on the floor with a glass of pudding in his hand. keeping his eyes locked on yours as he feeds himself another spoonful.
in defiance. like a cat doing something its not supposed to do but would do it anyway to prove that its not listening to you.
"you're an addict. i swear, you're addicted to pudding!"
you laugh. patting his head even though you know the risks of doing that.
"a man needs his pudding to keep going"
minho mumbles while going as far as to tipping his head back to lick the inside of the container clean. it does something to you and you mentally slap yourself.
if he was so good at keeping himself sane, you were sure you could do it too.
"theres caramel on your nose pfft"
the thick sugary substance painting the tip of his nose. theres some more on his chin and...
"minho, you have it on your cheek too!"
it was getting funnier. and he glared at you, clearing his throat.
"i was hungry." he mutters, packing up the other puddings. you notice his eyebrows furrowing in discomfort when he stands up.
typical old man behaviour.
"give me a hug" you whisper, wanting to actually hug him.
maybe being close to him would make your unforgiving sex deprived mind shut off for a while.
"no" closing the fridge and placing his hands on his hips.
"minhooo give me a hug, please?"
standing on your tip toes to peck the tip of his nose. he turns his head away, trying to control his expressions.
you take the chance to catch him off guard, jumping onto him to tackle him into hugging you. he playfully matches your energy until he freezes in your hold.
"ah-"
a small moan escaping his lips. his eyes widening while he bites down onto his bottom lip. stopping any other noise from leaving him.
your mouth dropping open in shock when you feel his hard-on pressing against your thigh.
"did you get a boner-"
"no."
he whispers, masking his surprised expression with faux annoyance. you squint at him with a glimmer of mischief in your eyes.
"were you eating pudding to distract yourself?"
"...no."
placing his hands on your shoulders to lightly push you away. creating some distance between your bodies.
"im not that deprived, trust me" minho mumbles quietly. your lips pursed together.
"what if i say its getting harder for me..." you mutter, moving closer to him. he doesn't stop you.
"really, baby? can't live without my dick for a month?"
you stay silent. looking away from him sadly. you're not embarassed anymore.
because now you know how he copes when he gets horny. pudding!
"...can't live without you either" and you smile. happy that he admits it.
he groans, throwing his head back dramatically. squeezing his eyes closed.
"god, i can't stop imagining you crying my name when i push into you. its haunting me. for fuck's sake"
minho grumbles, groaning when you hug him again. his arms wrapping around you.
"and i can't stop thinking of you pushing my head down into the bed while you fuck me from behind"
you pull your phone out of your pocket hastily when it buzzes nonstop.
"its jisung..."
"what'd he say?"
"he...LOST!"
you shriek. practically jumping onto minho. trusting him entirely. he picks you up with no struggle.
"does that mean..."
"yes. im fucking you. right now."
"but november isn't over!"
"jisung lost. our opponent lost. that means this stupid no nut shit doesn't apply to us anymore" he grumbles. you catch onto him tight when he practically darts to your shared bedroom.
"admit it...you missed it, didn't you"
a huge smile on his face. a glimmer of pure happiness in his eyes. like how he'd look at his favourite pudding.
"have you ever seen me this excited before-"
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
pudding boy lino. i watched his whole live and then ate pudding🍮
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