#make way more soups than fried goods

[markatoto]

fan of breasts?

chicken breasts? yeah! they are, maybe & arguably, one of the most delicious part of the chicken. well, maybe next to drumsticks (which i personally prefer for things like fried chicken, or soups). in particular, i like to use chicken breasts for making katsu, which, lemme tell ya, i'm no expert cook, but id like to think that i do a pretty good job.

matter of fact, if you want an extremely simple recipe, here's how i personally make chicken katsu (all off the top of my head, so some slight details might be missing, so please bear with me):

you'll need a few ingredients

panko (any sort of breadcrumbs will work, but panko is just the brand i use)

cookin' oil (usually simple vegtable oil will work)

the actual chicken breast, of course

the ol' traditional: salt and pepper

one egg (u dont need any more than one egg, typically)

if u wanna make things extra crunchy, having some corn starch mixed in with garlic powder + onion powder for some extra seasoning. maybe even a scoosh of paprika for that yummy (i personally like using this filipino chicken mixture called "crispy fry", which is usually used for fried chicken, but it works here too. it's usually meant for fried chicken drumstick, but what is katsu but a different kind of fried chicken)

anyways, here's how u wanna do things:

take out your chicken breast, pat it down with a paper towel so that it aint wet on the surface and either: slice it so that the chicken breast is about inch and a quarter (or so) thick OR use a mallet to make it around that thickness. youll want your chicken flat as possible, but not too flat! i think you know what i mean.

salt and peppa that mothafucka, both sides (OPTIONAL STEP 2B: it's at this point id probably mix my chicken breast with the starch mixture/crispy fry. it just gives a lil extra flavour and crunch that i enjoy. but this is just me, u dont really gotta do it)

crack open an egg and put it in a bowl. MIX IT UP

put your flattened (and maybe crispy fry seasoned) chicken in the egg. get it drenched, you want that panko to stick to that shit

what i like to do is i like to put panko in a plastic container with a lid, then i put the chicken in the container, close the lid up and just SHAKE it so that its nice and evenly coated. super simple and fun and WAY cleaner to deal with after the fact LOL

pop your oil in your pan. put in generous amount, enough that your chicken wont necessarily be drowning, but enough that your chicken will be sufficiently fried. heat that up until the oil reaches that perfect temperature of around 350'F (that is THE temp for doing any deep frying)

pop your chicken on the pan and leave it frying on the one side for, id say, approximately 4-5 minutes. youre going to have to keep a close watch on it. make sure that panko is that GOOD crispy brown on each side. over all it should take you like…. 7-9 minutes for your katsu to be done.

BEFORE YOU EAT... make sure the internal temp of the chicken is around 160 - 165'F. if it is, it's good to go. take it out and, what i like to do is get a plate and pop on a paper towel to let the katsu dry off all the excess oil. even though its off the pan, that shit is STILL cookin, so youll want to leave it alone for like… a minute or two. plus if you eat it now you'll totally burn your tongue and that's the WORST feeling in the world

and after all that, your katsu is done! get some jasmine (white) rice, put on some katsu sauce and some japanese mayo with a lil bit of furikake for that slight seaweed flavoring and youll be GOOD to go!!

so yeah, i guess you can say i'm a fan of breasts.

[what-even-is-thiss]

Quick and cheap filling vegetarian food (I’m going ovo-lacto for this)

Soup:

Dump some cans of stuff in a pot. Maybe some seasoning too. Pearl barley or rice may also be a good choice to bulk things out. With beans or legumes and some kind of grain you can make a whole protein. If that doesn’t appeal to you add some cheese or poached egg. Don’t add a lot of rice btw it will expand don’t turn your soup into a rice dish I swear to gosh

Quesadillas:

Basic idea for this is shredded cheese melted in between two tortillas warmed up on either side in a pan, in a microwave if you’re feeling extra depressed. But other stuff can be added. Salsa, pico, leftover tofu or beans, sliced peppers or onion. It’s a dish that’s as complicated or as simple as you want to make it.

Casseroles:

Dump a can of cream of mushroom or cream of potato soup on it. It’ll work itself out probably.

Scrambled eggs:

The most braindead way to cook eggs. You can even scramble them in the pan. Put stuff in it. I like putting fried tomatoes in it. Add enough mushrooms and cheese and you can feel your system clogging up in real time. Eat some toast with it to convince yourself that adding carbs makes it fine actually

Curry:

Wildly oversimplified term for basically most Indian food. It’s simpler to make than you think. The spices are the important part. The base of a lot of types of Indian food is onion, ginger, garlic, and tomato and then add spices and stuff to that. What stuff? Whatever. Spinach, potatoes, coconut milk, regular milk, even more tomatoes, lentils, beans, yogurt. Put it over rice probably. Use powdered onion and ginger-garlic paste and canned tomatoes when you’re tired. Probably look up some actual Indian YouTubers and bloggers to get more specific recipes than my stupid ass can provide.

Peanut noodles:

Cook some noodles. Probably ramen noodles. Melt some peanut butter on it and add soy sauce. Merry Christmas.

Melts:

Get a panini press so you never have to think again. Cheese, something else, bread, hot, eat. Add a sauce and some nicely grilled vegetables if you want to but tbh a midnight grilled cheese with tomato isn’t gonna be a gourmet meal. Just make it so you can finish crying.

Smoothie:

Frozen fruit and/or veggies and some kind of liquid. I usually use strawberry, mango, and soymilk. Maybe yogurt too idk. The worst part of this is cleaning the blender later but the actual process of making it is fast.

Pasta:

There’s more to life than just spaghetti and red sauce. Or so I’ve been told. You can use canned soups as a sauce sometimes if you reduce them a bit. I like butternut squash soup. Adding some cream cheese to sauces tastes better than it sounds and can fix your protein problem that you sometimes get with pasta dishes. Keeping a jar of pesto and some mushrooms in the fridge can make for a fast dinner when you need it.

Chili:

Get two different types of beans and some tomatoes and chili powder and whatever in a pot and let those bitches get to know each other and simmer while you stare off into space for a while. Maybe like 10-20 minutes idk it tastes good with sour cream

[claimedcrossbows]

Served! Sanji x Fem!reader

Slight anime spoilers/foreshadowing.

This is OPLA Sanji though.

-

You were laid down in your quarters trying to keep the vomit down after you had been sick the entire night. Your head was killing you and you were simply not ready for whatever chaos was happening downstairs, but you had a kitchen to run, so you slowly got dressed, and slowly made your way downstairs to absolute anarchy.

“Y/n! We’re out of crawfish and it’s tonight's specials!” Your little sister says immediately approaching you.

“How did we run out of crawfish?” You groaned.

“Rasha forgot to order more and the nearest port ship is still a day away.” She explains frantically.

“Substitute it for lobster in the mac and cheese, and 86 the Crawfish Etouffe Balls.” You demanded hoarsely your vocal chords still fried from vomitting all night.

“Y/N are you okay? You look awful.” Your sister says looking at your haggard appearance and your overall sweaty pale face.

“Great, now go do as I told you, and make it quick rumor has it a critic is dining with us tonight!” You say the last part loud enough to attract your team of cooks attention.

“YES CHEF!” A chorus of voices ring out as you nod and all but wobble your way to the fridge for some much needed seltzer water.

Of all the days for one of the most known critics on the grandline to come pay your restaurant a visit it just had to be today when you could barely stand up right.

Fortunately for you you had a great team of chefs under your command as you watched them all hurry about prepping and making numerous dishes that looked about as masterful as could be.

You were by far one of the best restaurants on the grandline, your restaurant resided on a small beach in a lighthouse where many ships sailing by frequented your restaurant when they were in need of a good meal and conversation.

And you were no doubt one of best female chef’s the grand line had ever seen.

At just age 7 you had won your local cooking competition taking home a wonderful gift basket of exotic spices that had eventually lead you to your well known name of The Spice Queen.

You specialized in Cajun styled cooking, but you could cook just about anything in any style, you were well versed in cuisine having read numerous cookbooks throughout your life, you even knew quite a few special recipes to help revitalize sailors who were in need of more than just a flavorful meal.

Many pirates sought you out after large scaled battles that left them in tatters, if anyone asked any of those pirates what saved their lives and healed their wounds, they would name you.

Which is how you got your second name, as The Crock Pot Doc.

Yep, one taste of your special famous soup was said to cure a man on his death bed.

But none of that mattered if you couldn’t pull off a perfect dinner service tonight of all nights. You had to make sure this critic was absolutely blown away and you weren’t about to let a little food poisoning stop you.

So you chugged your seltzer water and began mincing and julienning veggies.

That was until a loud bang echoed throughout the entire lighthouse followed by a bunch of screaming and crying.

You quickly put down your knife and made it to the dining area where you absolutely could not believe your eyes at what had unfolded before you.

“WE NEED THE CROCK POT DOC, BRING THEM,PLEASE HURRY!” A man in a straw hat yellled looking around the room of patrons and chefs who had also exited the kitchen to see what was happening.

You stepped forward trying to process the sight before you, a group of pirates had barged into your restaurant all with desperate faces and who you could only assume was the captain carrying a orange haired woman who looked to be on the brink of death.

“I’m her, what the hell is going on??” You asked trying to wrap your head around this and the current state of your dining room that has been nearly destroyed by their barging in.

The straw hat man hastily made his way toward you carrying the woman with desperate eyes.

“I’m Monkey D. Luffy, and you have to save my friends life.” He said shakily but with a determination you could respect.

You laughed in disbelief, this man trashes your dining room on a special night and expects you to just save his friends life??

“And why would I do that?” You scoff looking at the state of the girl who looked worse than you felt.

“Because I’m the man who will be king of the pirates, and I promise I will pay you whatever you need and more if you save Nami’s life.” He says unwavering.

A few of your cooks scoff and laugh, “King of the pirates? This kid?” One of your cooks laughs.

You frown, “I don’t work for free, especially not when I have a important critic frequenting my restaurant tonight, there’s a doctor village not to far from here maybe a day’s travel at the Drum Kingdom-”

“She doesn’t have a day!” Luffy stresses.

Your frown deepens, your about to protest before a wave of nausea makes you wince. “Look I don’t have time for this I’m sorry but you need to leave-”

“Madam.” A voice behind this so called Captain Luffy rings out and you look past the kid and sees a tall blonde man in a black suit stepping forward, his face tense but gentle as he addressed you. “I understand your busy, but she will die if she doesn’t receive some kind of medical attention and I hear your not only one of the best cooks on these seas, but your cooking even rivals most medicines prescribed by doctors.” He says as he walks up to you.

“And you are?” You ask raising a skeptical brow.

“Sanji, The best cook in all of the east blue and maybe the world Mam’.” He says confidently as he shoots you a wink.

You immediately laugh, “Wow you have a lot of nerve to say that to my face.”

His face drops as he immediately shakes his head, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to offend you I just-”

“Well you wouldn’t be a good cook if you weren’t cocky, so there must be some talent behind your words.” You say crossing your arms. “Your Sanji, Chef Zeff’s prodigy I assume.” You say watching his eyes widen.

A small smirk crosses his lips, “Ah, so you’ve heard of me madam?” He says flirtatiously.

“Yeah, I heard a flirty handsome chef trained by Chef Zeff himself has been making his name in the culinary world as one of the best chef’s out here.”

“Oh really?” He says his smile widening.

“Yeah, but it looks like they only got the flirty part right.” You smirk back watching his face drop.

“Sanji’s the best cook on the grandline!!” Luffy immediately defends.

“Yet he can’t make a healing dish?” You interject.

Luffy grunts in annoyance, “Look we don’t have time for this Nami’s dying will you help us or not!?” He shouts angrily.

“N-”

“You say a food critics coming tonight right?” Sanji suddenly says.

You turn to him and nod, “Yes and I need to get ready-”

“You look sick, how do you expect to impress a critic and you can barely stand up right?” He asks staring directly into your eyes.

“How the hell do you know i’m sick?” You questioned.

“I know when a lady’s suffering.” He says gently.

You didn’t know how to respond to that so you just let him continue.

“So how about a deal, I help lead your cooks tonight and pull off an exsquisit meal to impress the critic, and you in turn heal my friend?” He says.

“And what makes you think you can make any of my dishes East Blue Boy?” You challenge, honestly intrigued by the cockiness of this man.

“I’m a fast learner mam, just give me a sample of what needs to be cooked and i’ll make it.” He says.

You were about to deny this foolish request until the sounds of numerous peoples stomachs gurgling suddenly caught your attention.

“Uhhhggg, Chef Y/N we don’t feel so good.” One your top chefs say holding their stomachs.

“Neither do I.” Chef Rasha groans.

“Oh no..” Another chef groans running out the room and into the bathroom.

“I feel fine?” Your little sister says looking at you in disbelief as more and more chefs ran out the room in distress as you watched your customers quickly flee out the front door.

You couldn’t believe this..your entire staff had contracted food poisioning.

You look between Luffy and the dying woman and then back at Sanji as your stomach churned even more.

Uhg.

“Fine, but my little sister will be your sous chef, she’s basically the mini version of me so listen to her directly got it?” You say approaching the blonde man who’s flirtatious smile made its way back onto his face.

“Anything you say Madam-’ ”And please stop with the Madam, Call me Chef, Y/N.”

“Chef Y/n, beautiful name, fits a beautiful woman.” He says.

Your stomach churns again as you quickly grab your little sisters chef hat and proceed to heavily vomit directly into it.

“Wow Sanji, your flirting literally made her vomit.” A man says placing a pitiful hand on his shoulder.

“Shut it Usopp!” Sanji hisses. “I’m going to have my friends help me considering your now understaffed, is that okay?” He asks looking at your concerningly handing you a handkerchief from his suits pocket.

“Fine, but don’t let that one” You say pointing to luffy. “Anywhere near the food.” You say getting a strange vibe from the straw hat boy just from the way he was eyeing your customers abandoned plates of food they had left.

“Trust me, I wasn’t.” He admits.

“Fine its a deal.” You say reaching out your clammy shaky hand that he immediately picks up and kisses.

Your face contorts into disgust as you take your hand back, just who did you let in your kitchen??

-

Hey guys wanted to do a little Sanji One shot I think this will be a two parter but I thought it would be so cool if Sanji met another incredibly talented chef who just so happened to be a woman right before we meet Chopper at the Drum Kingdom arc!!

[prying-pandora666]

The Gaang’s Favorite Foods

Aang is an ovo-lacto vegetarian. He still consumes milk and eggs, just nothing that requires killing an animal. Being more used to getting nutrients from a variety of plant foods including nuts and seeds, supported by nutrient rich bison milk and whatever eggs they eat in this world, Aang’s diet is surprisingly diverse and not as restrictive as it first seems. People have and still do eat this way. He loves egg tarts!

Sokka is a growing teen boy, used to a high-fat diet of primarily fish, mollusks, large ruminants, marine mammals (and their blubber), full fat milk, eggs, blood, etc, and only minorly supported by additional foods like seaweed, berries, tubers, perhaps the occasional imported flour or rice. He is going to need a LOT of animal meat and fat. Especially organs. The cookbook says he loves dried salmon collars.

Katara is also a growing teen girl, and considering what starts for girls around her age, she probably also has higher iron requirements. Heme-iron (from meat) is the most easily absorbed, and if it’s what her body is accustomed to, I imagine there’s going to be a lot of cravings there too. It’s possible she slowly converted to a vegetarian diet eventually, but there isn’t actually anything in canon to say that Katara and Aang didn’t just maintain different diets. The comics and cookbook say she likes soups and stews including sea prunes which are actually a type of mollusk.

Toph comes from a wealthy family. Although most of the Earth Kingdom relies primarily on staple grains (rice mainly, but also others), she likely had a decently diverse diet compared to others. Including plenty of meat (beef, chicken, duck, pork), a variety of vegetables, and even luxury items like refined sugar. According to the cookbook, she doesn’t like to eat her vegetables, which implies she had open access to meat for most of her life. She is fond of tea eggs.

Zuko comes from the wealthiest nation which is also in a tropical climate. He’d have access to a plethora of fruits the others had never even heard of! Tropical fruits, berries, coconut, and all the different dishes you can make with them. The nutrient-rich volcanic soil would also lend itself to farming, giving this country plenty of fresh vegetables and staple grains. However, culturally they seem to be a meat and seafood loving people, and spiciness is critical! Being a prince, Zuko would have even more access to all of the above than the common person. According to the cookbook, his favorite snack is sizzle-crisps which is basically fried and seasoned pork belly. He also sneaks Komodo-chicken to his uncle in prison.

BONUS:

Azula, like Zuko, is royalty in a nation blessed with great diversity of fruits, meat, seafood, and fresh veggies. We know she attended a harsh military academy which puts its students through rigorous survival training. Azula knows how to live off the land and likely can survive off of whatever petty things she can forage or catch. But being royalty, she is more accustomed to having whatever she desires prepared for her. She seems to have a bit of a sweet tooth, which can happen when you give a teen unfettered access to luxury goods like sugar. With her nation’s relatively advanced stage of industrialization, certain more processed foods and desserts are available to her. She is fond of cherries and in the comics she is a fiend for mochi!

[echantedtoon]

Househusband Upper Moons: Kokushibo

(This is inspired by @rottencoreflesh101's Househusband Upper Moon posts. (Warnings: Their blog does contain NSFW elements and themes that not everyone may like or be comfortable with AND is only for 18+ folks. Just a heads up. But this WILL STAY Sfw.) I did link to the post in question down below. If enough people like househusband Kokupuffs drabble I'll do a second one based on their headcannons of Househusband Gyutaro. This is probably not gonna be very long and it's from the perspective of a female reader.

Househusband Upper Moons Concept- @rottencoreflesh101

Demon Slayer- Koyoharu Gotouge

Original Post:

The thunderstorm I'm the distance between the roof and sky haunted the eardrums as the storm drew ever closer in the darkness.

There truly was nothing but the warmth of the small fireplace within the cozy small house in the middle of the woods. A cozy small hideaway nobody knew about but himself and a select few individuals. It would shield him well from the harsh elements and keep him safe and sound from the outside. It was his own little safe haven. Just himself to worry about now.

The bubbling pot of soup on the stove wafted in waves making even the most stuffed person desire to eat it as he smelt it. A hum of satisfaction left his throat as he nodded and let go off the soup ladder after stirring it a few times. This would surely last a few days. Cooking enough food to last a few days was always good. Having leftovers only meant you didn't have to cook over a hot stove for a good while. It left time to focus on other things. Speaking of other things- Multiple eyes turned to the door as thunder drew ever closer and closer judging by the sounds in the distance. Now where was she?

She should arrive back any minute now. After all her workplace wasn't that far from here, and it was simply only a matter of walking and returning to the home. Strong hands wiped themselves on a nearby cloth he slipped from the countertop and removed the remains of elk blood from his hands. The rest of the body that couldn't be used would have to be disposed of later otherwise wild animals would be coming up to the house and wondering the garden and animals. No. He couldn't have that. A fox already made off with one of his wife's chickens she'd be upset if it happened again. As if on cue, his head immediately perked up at the distant sounds of approaching footsteps small and dainty. A smile grazed his mouth and his head turned to the door in wait as the footsteps approached closer and closer. The door slid open after the footsteps paused a brief moment outside of the house.

"Ah. Welcome home little lamb," a man's voice greeted smiling widely at the figure of the woman walking inside. "You've arrived...just in time for dinner."

You smiled from the doorway slowly and moving to take off your sandals. Your feet sore from the long walk to town and back where you worked for a company making clothes to then be shipped to various places across the country. Your feet were sore from walking so much, your hands sore from threading the needle for hours, and your body aches with tiredness from a long day. Upon walking into the house your senses were hit with the beautifully delicious smells of meats, fried potatoes, and a few other things. You were only free of your shoes for more than three seconds before someone much larger was standing over you. Six eyes met yours-

A pair of lips met your temples. "How was ...work?"

You smiled up at your husband. Usually someone would be pretty intimidated by a six foot something demon with fangs and six eyes staring down at them so closely like this, but you couldn't see it. Especially when he wore the cloth around his head keeping most of his hair from his face and the large apron drapped over him. He looked very alluring and domestic. 

"It was business as usual. Im sure I pricked my finger more times in one day than you've swing a sword in your entire lifetime."

"I doubt that." 

"Smells good. What's for dinner?"

"Elk stew. ..I caught it just early this morning." Ah. Most likely when the sun wasn't up yet and you were still asleep. A strong arm pulled you forward into the house and the door was closed. "Eat. Your body's strength... needs to replenished with rest also."

You didn't fight it and only leaned into his touch. "Sounds great. Aren't you hungry though?"

"My hunger shall be... quenched within an hour." Which translated to him waiting for sunset to hunt for his normal food source. "Did you...have a pleasant day?"

You nodded sighing. "Just a bit tired. Big orders means lots of work, but it's my fingers that really hurt." Your hands flexed as you pouted remembering all the times you pricked yourself today. 

A much larger hand grabbed the smaller one bringing it to the demon's eyes. Six orbs examined them closely before a gentle kiss was placed onto the skin. "If your hands are sore....then I just might..have to feed you..myself."

"N-No you don't." Despite it he chuckled deeply and making your own face red. "I can still take care of myself."

"If you insist...Now sit and rest... Your body needs it."

[cutsiewitch]

A Mechanic’s Worries about Pilots.

A gifted mechanic is called in to service a pilot. As The Mechanic begins to head towards her station to work on the pilot, she can’t help but ruminate on her feelings about pilots. She honestly doesn’t like them.

It’s not a personal thing, she’s sure that they were great people at one point, but it’s hard to see them like that anymore. She finds the whole thing creepy and offputting. She see’s what they do to pilots, knows how they’re made. She probably understands the process more than anybody on the base. She’s a prodigy in mecha suit engineering, which also includes pilot systems.

It makes her uncomfortable. The pilots are treated like objects, tools of war. That’s what they are too, what they’re made to be. Their skulls are full of tech that hooks them straight into their mechs, their brains fried with dopamine and other kinds of chemical soup to reward them when they shoot targets into slag. They even end up sharing the space in their head with the onboard ai’s of their mechs. They’re locked into the mechanical nerves and metal muscles of the mech. It makes them amazing killing machines, but their minds are practically crippled outside of the suits, raw and untethered, ungrounded.

The weirdest thing to her is they seem so happy. It doesn’t even look like it’s just the chemicals, it can’t be. They like it, whatever fucked up experience they’re having, it’s making them happy as can be. They want to get back into the suits, they want to push more. They like getting bossed around like dogs by their handlers. They love their ai’s almost like some weird fusion of a lover, a sibling, and a reflection. They can barely even articulate how they feel, most don’t bother, but The Mechanic has worked in this business long enough to learn anyways.

She gets to her workshop. It’s honestly kind of pathetic, barely worthy of the name. She knows that the pilots are treated as tools, but mechanics aren’t treated much better. Human but still not really worthy of respect. They work her and the other mechanics like slaves, cramping them into the crawl spaces where stuff needs fixing. Even with her advanced position all they afford her is this broom closet from hell. The room is cramped and humid, like a small metal sauna. It’s still marginally better than the communal workshop. Even with the bigger and more open room it still somehow manages to be claustrophobic and hot.

The Pilot is already there, sitting on her workbench, completely naked. The Mechanic isn’t surprised, but her face still burns with heat as she blushes when seeing The Pilot’s bare ass resting on the same giant hunk of tungsten-steel alloy she uses to fix delicate parts and machinery. The Pilot’s augs are invasive and take up a good portion of its body. Its arms, its legs, and a good portion of its back are more machine than human at this point. Normally the jumpsuits account for this, but those would get in the way of repairs. Normal clothes would too, and developing some kind of modesty cover for them is more trouble than it’s worth for the higher ups. They don’t have to deal with the nudity, and it’s not like the pilots even care.

The Mechanic wipes the sweat from her brow and crosses the room. She doesn’t actually acknowledge The Pilot aside from the blushing, but The Pilot’s gaze follows her as she makes her way over to a box of tools. She sets the box down next to The pilots thigh and pulls over the ratty stool she uses for a chair.

She starts servicing The Pilot. She pulls out delicate tools and with ingrained precision she begins opening up The Pilot’s augs, starting with the legs and going up. She hooks its systems up to an old box of a diagnostics unit and begins manually inspecting the parts. She pulls wires aside with tiny fractions of force and checks on the tiny sensors and servos that are no bigger than her fingernail, cleaning them with tiny swabs and lubricating them with drops of oil.

The entire time she keeps hearing weird noises. Soft whines and sounds of scraping play at the edge of her attention, distracting her just the tiniest amount. The Mechanic can’t tell where the noises are coming from, and it’s bothering the shit out of her. When she takes a step back to unfocus and wipe the sweat from her forehead, she sees where it’s coming from.

It’s the pilot. It’s breathing heavily, like it’s exhausted. Its face is almost as flushed as The Mechanic’s when she walked in. The metal tips of its fingers scratch at the polished surface of her workbench. Jesus fucking christ, was The Pilot turned on right now? With the face it was making it had to be.

Fuck, now The Mechanic was thrown way off. It was already hard enough to try and pretend this was just normal machine servicing when all of the machinery was attached to a sweaty, naked girl, it was impossible to do it when she knew it was getting off to her poking around in its augments.

The Mechanic just couldn’t get back into the same groove she had before. Every stifled moan disrupted her concentration. Every squirm messed up her precise motions. Everything just kept bringing her back into the moment, where her face was inches away from the pilot’s crotch.

The Mechanic slogged through the rest of the grueling work, doing her best to try and travel into that little place in the back of her mind where she could just stop thinking and do what she was good at. She finished with the legs and then told the pilot directly to lay down so she could begin on her arms.

The Pilot laid down like it was told. The Mechanic scooted her stool forward and raised the seat for a better vantage. In the end the new position wasn’t all that much better than the old. The Pilot’s left arm was cradled on The Mechanic’s lap while she popped it open and began working on it.

It was more of the same. Nothing wrong but basic cleanup, which meant The Mechanic wouldn’t be busy enough to zone out. She could see its face clearly now. It looked so human, so lively. When she pressed a sensor its hand tensed and squirmed, pushing against her stomach a bit. A tugged wire elicited a slight yip of surprise. It felt so carnal, to dig into this things innards and just mess around.

Seeing it like this, The Mechanic couldn’t help but wonder about the difference between the two. Right now it looked just as human as she was, so she couldn’t apply the same cold business mentality she usually did with her work. She felt like they were almost one in the same. I mean, look at it, being a pilot can’t be so bad, right?

The Mechanic’s thoughts ground to a halt. Her surprise was so sudden it caused her to tweak a wire hard enough to get The Pilot to let out a proper yelp. Neither could tell if it was a yelp of pleasure or pain.

What had she just thought? Seriously, what the hell was that? Was she serious? Of course being a pilot is bad, being treated like a mindless dog, worked like a machine, and used like a toy. The Mechanic barely knew where that thought had even come from. I mean, it and her were nothing alike.

The Mechanic stewed in those thoughts, trying to reassure herself that she was nothing like it. She wasn’t an it. The Mechanic was a person, and it was just a pilot. The Mechanic tried her best to just focus on the work, but she couldn’t. The thoughts bothered her so much, and she really couldn’t dismiss them.

Because they were alike, very much alike. Not in the sense that The Pilot was a person. In the sense that The Mechanic wasn’t.

The Mechanic couldn’t help but feel it. She was a cog in a much larger machine, a tiny piece. She was treated almost the same as The Pilot

The Mechanic was worked like a dog. She was given shit conditions and forced to do shittier things. She was expendable, one in a million. You could point to almost any outward aspect of the two of them and they would match up.

The thing that frustrated The Mechanic even more was how they were the same on the inside too.

The Mechanic knew what it felt like to become something bigger. Working in the engineering wing was like being in a hive mind. You’re practically shoulder to shoulder with the people next to you. You become parts of the same whole, you work together, you sweat together, you create together. She can’t even remember how many times she had needed something, a part, a tool, a towel, anything, and a mechanic next to her had just known, and given it to her. She knew she had done the same for others all the time.

She could admit to feeling like an it sometimes. Stripped of your identity, down to everything but your use. She didn’t know The Pilot’s name, and The Pilot probably didn’t know her’s. She was a mechanic. She was nothing but the job she did. A function, not a person.

Her head pounded as she adjusted her grip on The Pilot’s arm. Her head buzzed and it felt like her brain was melting in the heat of the room. She could imagine the wires burning up and melting their rubber casings. The copper and metal fusing together into a frenzied mess as her thoughts jumbled into each other.

She shook her head violently. God she was losing it! Her brain wasn’t made of wires, it was made of meat! She wasn’t overheating, she was just getting some kind of headache. She closed up the first arm, not even sure if she was really done, and told the pilot to swap sides through gritted teeth.

She wanted things to be simpler. She wanted to stop thinking. She just wanted to do her job. The Mechanic missed the engineering floor. She missed the absent thrum as she worked alongside her fellow workers, their thoughts synchronizing into a beautiful and productive symphony. She wanted to be a part of that, of it. She just wanted to be a Mechanic, that was so much easier than all of this.

Is that why pilot’s are so happy? Are they so content because that’s what it feels like? The Mechanic thought about it in her own terms. Would she give up her body to work more efficiently? Would she open up her mind, just to be even closer with the other mechanics? Would she shed all of the cumbersome weight that thinking like a person had, and just become a simple and unbothered it?

The answer was yes. The Mechanic wanted that. The simple, pure existence of it. The Mechanic wanted to be that, and nothing more. When it realized that, it had a much easier time working on The Pilot’s arm.

It finished up The Pilot’s back in no time too. Without all of the messy thoughts clogging up its head, the whole thing went smoothly. The Pilot was sent on her way, on wobbly legs and with shaky breath. The Mechanic might have messed with it a bit more than necessary, but it liked to consider that a reward, for good behavior.

The Mechanic realized it wanted a bit of a career shift. It thought that if being a mechanic was good, then being a pilot must be great! It loved working on machines, but it wanted that sense of empty completion even more. Plus, it’s not like it won’t be allowed to also do mechanic work still. It would be a lot better for everyone if it got to service its own mech. It would be a win win. The Mechanic wiped down its workbench for the last time, and with renewed vigor, went to sign up to become a pilot.

[germhammy]

“At The Walker’s- The date pt 4”

Enid: oh! B, Wednesday texted me from Burlington

Bianca: -mixing guacamole dip- spill the tea! Come on. Is Xavier impressing her?

Lou-Anne: Xavier? Enid? Why is Wednesday out with him? I thought she was your girlfriend

Enid: she is. She just agreed to a date with him to get him to shut up. -shows text and reads replies in real time-

-this is a nice casual spot by the lake. I like it. Not ‘fancy’. Xavier is overdressed. I look like I’m in elaborate period costume so he is getting more stares than I am

-🤦🏼‍♀️ is the food at least good?

-we only had salad so far Caesar salad. He ordered everything. Never giving me a chance. With tuna. I would have preferred chicken

-what did he order?

-escargot, buffalo shrimp, 2 Caesar salads with tuna, 2 bowls of clam chowder, 2 shrimp cocktails , 20 oysters 1/2 shell, 2 lobsters, and fried clams. And to drink 2 cokes. I had to tell the waitress to exchange the coke for a 7up because I can not drink coke. I also ordered myself a fish and chips.

-WTF!? He ordered all that?

-yes. I hope he is hungry. I will eat the soup. Leaving the clams. And perhaps the fried clams. I am more worried about the bill

-the bill? Isn’t he paying?

-I should hope so. I said I would go out with him. He is obviously trying to impress me. I am willing to pay for the fish and chips I ordered

-he ordered a lot of food you won’t eat

-he is definitely not making a good impression. You smelled him at the shuttle stop right?

-oh my god. Yes. 🤣 Bianca just said she could probably smell him under water! What was in that box he had? We left on the next shuttle just to not make him think we were spying or make you overly uncomfortable

-it was flowers. Black calla lilies. I hate lilies

-heh. Um, you mentioned the bill? How much is it? Going to be?

-$288 plus tax and tip. Not including my fish and chips. Must go. Xavier is glaring at me. Not that I care. But the soup has arrived. Smells delicious

Enid: wow. What a jerk!

Bianca: is Wednesday allergic to seafood?

Enid: nah. She just doesn’t like it and chooses not to eat it. Fish is okay.

Bianca: typical Xavier. Flashing money around. He did that a lot when we were dating. It’s all daddy’s money

Enid: the Addams are quite rich. But they don’t flash it. Sometimes Wednesday doesn’t understand. Even her family. How much they have. Like did you know Wednesday’s bow for her cello costs $1000 dollars?

Bianca: my god!

Enid: yeah. Flashing money around is definitely not the way to impress Wednesday. Let’s just say I’m pretty confident I will still have a girlfriend by the end of the night.

Lou-Anne: Will one of you girls start cooking the meat for the tacos? The other one can help me with the chopping and shredding of veggies and cheese

Bianca took to the cooking , Enid the chopping

[yorutsuki]

Yan!Rise! Raph x Reader

[ Heavily Inspired by: Fried-milkfish (Please check out there work!)]

↳ Why did you think you could escape? Can't you see? Everything he's done is for your own good.

Tags:

──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────

You tiredly stared at the motionless white ceiling, one you've seen too many times to count.

Your eyes were puffy and swollen red, your breaths slow and shallow. Small bandages were scattered onto the rugged floor as the wounds they once bandaged, were freshly scratched and smeared with blood.

You didn't know why you thought you could make it, you didn't understand why you even thought you had a chance in the first place. Just as your hand brushed against the cold metal cover, separating you from freedom, he dragged you back.

Raph was fortunately never the type to harm, well, you at least, but his outburst was...livid to say the least. He begged, shouted, yelled and eventually shards from a flying ceramic vase managed reflect it.

So here you laid, a white noise of defeat and hopelessness defeaning your ears. You lacked the motivation for doing anything, all your energy, drained.

Your hope lost on ever getting out of this hell hole.

Your eyes widened, hearing a knock on the door. You scrambled against the bed as it opened, a dreadful feeling washing over you as your heart sank, fearing the mutant you'd lay eyes upon.

"I brought food! Mikey made some soup with a side of pasta...it's a weird combination but it still tastes good!" The voice boomed with delight, humming as he set the tray of food down onto the floor. Glancing towards your form, his eyes landed to the messy pile of bandages and open wounds. He quickly sprinted towards you, grabbing the small med-kit from under the bed.

"Why would you do this!?" He hissed, his tone soft yet heavily concerned as he began to re-bandage your wound yet you remained silent.

The alligator turtle sighed, "well, you should eat up before the food gets cold." He spoke, reaching for the tray of food and bringing it closer.

A few seconds pass by as silence filled both your ears.

"You really should eat, the longer you wait, the colder it gets." He frowned but still no answer.

You wished he would just get the message.

With each passing moment, Raph grew more annoyed. "You need to eat." He demanded, pushing the try towards you yet you still didn't move. "Why won't you look at me." You only shrugged in response.

The turtle let out a annoyed sigh, "Look, if this is about last night, it was for you own safety. Do you know what could happen up there?!" He spoke, his voice raised with lowness but you couldn't give a damn. Being anywhere would be better than this prison of a 'home'.

"Answer me." He snarled, his teeth gritting with now irritation.

"I know that it would be better there than here in this shit hole.." You mumbled. Raph's brows furrowed, "But you don't. All i've been doing is keeping you safe, to keep you protected—"

"But you aren't. You've locked me up here against my will, won't even let me see anyone else—not even your brothers, because of your own fear. For fucks sake, I can't even do the simplest thing on my own without you having to watch over me like i'm some sort of—"

"No. You just can't see it! Everything i've done is to keep you from harms way and out of reach from things up there!" He retorted, getting up. "I've been up there too many times, I know what dangers lay on the surface, the whole reason why your down here is to protect you from them!" He snapped, his voice raised.

"How delusional can you be..."

"What?"

"Your so far stuck in your own ass that you actually believe this is keeping me safe—protecting me?" You hissed, anger surging through your core as you looked at him in disbelief.

"I'm not delusional." He spoke, his words laced with anger. You watched warily as he made his way towards the metal door. "Everything i've done is for you and your own good."

"And you will stay here whether you like it or not until you can understand that."

.

.

.

Erm, I actually hated that. It was doing fine at first then writers block hit and I just feel like most of it's a copy from Fried-milkfish's story. Might remake it (probably won't since procrastination hits like a truck) but if I do, it'll probably be different.

Anyways, first post in weeks! And I think I can say; it's a shit post. Though thank you for those who do enjoy it. Promise the next one will be better!

[zepskies]

Being Human – Part 2

Pairing: Alec McDowell x F. Reader

Summary: Your life made sense before Alec slipped his way in. He unravels your threads without even trying. He frustrates you as easily as he weasels back into your good graces. But you soon realize that this man is worth the challenge.

AN: Thank you for your lovely responses on Part 1!! I'm very excited to bring you the next chapter of Being Human.

Chapter Summary: You know that Alec is hiding something, and it’s more than the fact that he’s been dating another girl behind your back. [Set during 2.11]

Song Inspo: “Sailing” by Avant

Word Count: 6,200

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Angst, two-timing (don’t worry), mentions of Manticore’s training (torture), hurt/comfort, mega feels, smuttishness.

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 2: The Only Place

Alec showing up at your door unannounced isn’t anything new.

This time, however, he comes bearing a raw chicken in a plastic bag and a sack of potatoes. Your eyes go wide as you let him into your apartment.

“Where the hell did you find that,” you gesture at the chicken. In this economy, it might as well have been a five-pound lobster with a side of caviar.

Alec waggles his brows at you and flashes his familiar grin.

“Farmer’s market,” he says. “I fought some rich lady and her Pomeranian for this.”

You extend “gimme gimme” fingers at the bag as you lick your lips. You two are going to eat good tonight. You can even use the bones to make soup for the rest of the week.

Still, something niggles at the back of your mind.

“But this must’ve been so expensive. You didn’t have to do this,” you say, looking up from the bag of goods to your boyfriend’s face. He gives you an easy smile as his arm hooks around your waist.

“Don’t worry about it. I won a few pool game bets off Sketchy. Not to mention a couple of his paychecks,” Alec says.

His smirk makes you shake your head, but you wonder if he’s telling you the truth. He always seems to have cash to spare, despite the fact that he’s only been working at Jam Pony for a few months—barely making minimum wage.

Regardless, you start to prepare the chicken with what seasonings you have in your pantry while Alec peels the potatoes for you. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye.

Not for the first time, you wonder how he really lives. You’ve never been to his apartment before. Despite being friends with Max (there seems to be history there), he just got to Seattle a few months ago. And as for family, he claimed he had to leave home.

“It was what you’d call…an unstable environment,” he’d said. 

That, you could understand. Your own father had died when you were fairly young. After the Pulse, a virus had swept through and ravaged your hometown in rural Massachusetts.

Unfortunately, a shortage of antibiotics at the local hospitals left your mom without much help to fight off what ailed her body. You’d spread her ashes in the Charles River, where she used to love to paddleboat with you when you were a kid.

Then, you’d packed up what little you had and left the East Coast to make a life for yourself out here, alone. The city had been a challenge for you at first, being a smalltown girl at heart, but the hustle and bustle distracted you in a way you’d needed.

Now, Seattle has become your home, for better or worse. 

Alec knows all of this about you. He knows about your guilty pleasure of fried eggs, rice, and Vienna sausages: one of the ultimate struggle meals. He knows you love ice cream so much, you’d eat it for breakfast if you could.

He also knows you wanted to be a veterinarian, of all things, before the pulse. Now you have no hope or prayer of ever affording college, even if you tried.

But Alec…he still largely remains a mystery to you, no matter how deep he’s wedged himself under your skin.

“You’re really concentrating on that chicken,” Alec says, but his voice startles you, as it’s suddenly very close to your ear. You jump slightly as his arms wrap around your frame from behind.

You giggle a little, but you tilt your head to allow him access when his lips find your neck.

“Have I thanked you for this yet?” you ask. “I can’t remember the last time I had honest to God poultry…that also didn’thave a 50% chance of being radioactive.”

You feel the shape of Alec’s smile against your skin.

“No, as a matter of fact, but feel free to express your gratitude sexually,” he rejoins.

You have to laugh in earnest at that. You wash your hands in the sink before you turn in his arms and take his face gently in your hands. You bring him down to you for a sweeter kiss than he expected.

“Thank you,” you whisper against his lips. “It’s nice, having someone who thinks about me.”

His brows furrow a bit at that. He didn’t think bringing you an unexpected meal would be all that impressive, but…he also knows how long you’ve been alone.

For reasons he can’t tell you, it makes a twinge of guilt hit him behind the ribs.

All throughout dinner, and afterwards, Alec is hooked on the familiar soap opera playing on the TV in the living room. You both are sitting on the couch, but you’re half watching him, amused by his reactions. He’s absolutely glued to an episode you’ve already seen.

“You’re even more obsessed than I am,” you tease.

Alec spares you a wan look. “I just wanna know whose baby it is.”

A teasing smile forms across your face as you shift onto your knees and lean over to him, as if whispering a secret in his ear.

“And it’s actually twins,” you tease.

His expression of enrapture shifts with a wry edge. 

“Twins, huh?”

That seems to take him out of his enjoyment, somehow.

You frown a little. “You okay?”

“Always,” he responds, glancing at you. He visibly lightens up, pulling you into his lap with a muttered, Come ‘ere.

You giggle at his manhandling and oblige him with a few stolen kisses.

You feel bold enough to push him back to lie on the couch, and he actually lets you. His hands find your hips while you move to straddle his. Your fingertips drift down his chest as you consider him with a tilt of your head.

“Why haven’t I ever been to your place?” you ask. You draw an imaginary pattern across his chest, grazing him with your nails. His skin prickles under his clothes, but he stares up at you and shrugs without giving into your distraction.

“What, do you live above a strip club or something?” you add, smirking.

Alec’s expression matches yours as he squeezes your hips. “I like coming to you.”

Letting out a breath through your nose, you lean down and try plying him with slow, nipping kisses down his jawline, then his neck.

“Hmm, I still think you’re evading,” you say between kisses. “Tell me. Why haven’t you invited me back to your apartment?”

“Aren’t you getting demanding,” he teases back, even though his breath hitches when you nip a bit harder, just under his ear. Your deft hands run over his chest, toying with his senses. Already the scent of the soap you use has invaded his nose, like it always does. Jasmine.

“You knew this about me,” you say against his skin. He feels the movements of your lips like an added tease.

“Yeah,” he acknowledges. His smirk deepens. “Not gonna lie, I kinda like it.”

You smile. “So answer the question. Or do I have to punish you?”

Fuck, sweetheart, be my guest, Alec thinks. But he forces himself to focus on your words, reading between the lines of what you’re really fishing for.

“My place isn’t all that safe,” he says.

You snort. “Safe is relative in this city. Besides, I thought you said my apartment was questionable at best.”

“I said you needed better security.”

“You’re my security.”

Alec’s smirk returns at that. “Is that all I’m good for?”

“Better than a doorman,” you joke, leaning down to him again. “You deliver right to my door.”

“You think you’re so clever,” Alec says. Your lips find his in a kiss, and they lure him back into the pull of you. How easy it would be, just to let you “catch” him. Every night. Every day. 

Your arms cage his head as you finally lay down on top of him, slowly rolling your hips against his. Both of you feel his hardness twitch against your thigh. You smirk against his lips. 

“And right on time,” you quip. 

“All right, that’s enough outta you,” Alec says, and he claims you with a more demanding kiss. His fingers sink into your hair tightly.  

But you press your hand to his cheek, making him pause for a moment. The amusement fades from his eyes the longer he stares into yours. You’re not teasing or joking anymore. 

You lower down and kiss him with meaning. With tenderness. 

You don’t know how it makes that coil of guilt grip him like a vice.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” you mutter.

Your exasperation has reached an all-time high.

You’re really trying not to clock this bitch in the throat. When she grabs you by the hair, however, you have no choice.

Your punch lands squarely up the bridge of Marina’s nose with a crack that makes even Original Cindy wince.

You feel sick to your stomach.

Not just because your coworker and former friend Marina has stumbled to the floor, looking up at you with ire and a bloody nose. But because you just found out that you and Marina have somehow been dating the same man.

Alec had been standing off to the side with a semblance of concern behind his eyes (but mostly shock). You turn to him next, and he freezes. All the nearby Jam Pony employees watch the scene as you grasp Alec’s arm and warn him with only your eyes—it’s in his best interest to follow you to the lockers.

He acquiesces, even though his shifty eyes say he wants to bolt. Cindy’s shaking her head with a flat expression. Max is outright glaring at him. Sketchy is grinning, shoots him a thumbs up as the two of you pass by.

Alec heeds your unspoken demand, but he crosses his arms once you let go of him.

“Apparently, Marina claims you’re her boyfriend,” you accuse. You press two fingers into his chest. “Despite the fact that you’ve only been dating her for what, two weeks tops? A relief to me, since I thought we’d been dating for almost two months.”

Alec laughs nervously and rubs the back of his head. “Well, you know, we never did say that we were exclusive—”

“Did you sleep with her?” you ask.

He falters at the look on your face. So incredibly hurt, but still holding out a sliver of hope.

The longer he stays quiet, the more that too starts to dim.

You can’t help yourself. You slap him across the face.

Alec takes the hit, making it look like it actually hurt him in the way he snaps his face to the side. He’s more shocked than anything, though he knows he doesn’t have a right to be.

Your lower lip trembles, but you also gasp with a wince and hold your hand, because somehow his face felt like a slab of iron. Shit! Does he have a metal plate in his head or something?

Alec sighs. “You okay there?”

He reaches for your hand, but you back away from him.

“Don’t touch me. Never touch me again,” you say shakily, through tears.

You don’t want to admit that your heart is breaking. You fucking idiot. You should’ve known your instincts would be right about Alec McDowell.

You grab your clipboard and your forgotten backpack from the floor by your locker, and you walk away from him before your tears start to fall.

In the aftermath of the fight, Normal raises hell about the fact that Marina’s quitting. You can’t really give a shit, but you’re not about to follow suit. You’ve never, and will never let a man get between you and your money.

You take your deliveries for the morning and start on your route.

And if you have to park your bike in an alleyway to cry without the prying eyes of your coworkers, then that’s your right as a woman.

Alec hides it well, but inside, his chest aches the way his face should. He doesn’t altogether know or want to think about why.

So he worms his way into a delivery run with Max to distract himself (and to escape Jam Pony HQ). Max gives him hell, as expected, but he tries to ignore her and get this job over with so he can drink himself into a stupor at Crash tonight.

…Or try to. Getting drunk is a difficult feat with his genetics, not to mention a very expensive pastime.

Right now, he and Max are riding their bikes through the richey rich side of town, so at least it’s cleaner. Manicured hedges and tall gates surround every house here. It’s almost kind of familiar, though he’s too focused on following Max to care much.

“I mean, it’s not like I intended to date ‘em both at the same time,” he defends himself. “And then when it turned out I was dating them both at the same time, it’s not like I didn’t intend to tell both girls about the other one. …You know, eventually.”

It’s like the universe itself calls himself out on his lie when the front tire of his bike skids. He pulls to a sharp stop in front of an iron gate and falls over onto the asphalt, but his reflexes are quick, and he picks himself up with a forced spring in his step.

“But let’s be real for a moment, shall we?” he says. “I mean, suppose I did tell them. What would happen, huh? Same thing. Big fight. Lots of anger and resentment and recriminations, and then who wins? Nobody.”

Max continues to watch him with a deadpan frown. “Well, at least in this case, you won.”

“Exactly,” Alec smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. His expression falls anyway. “Well, no. Seeing as though neither of them will be likely to speak to me, which makes any kind of sex a virtual impossibility…at least for a couple of days.”

Max rolls her eyes. “Clearly both of them lost their damn minds to even give you the time of day.”

Alec has a witty retort on the tip of his tongue, but it’s waylaid by a memory that used to make him smile. It now just settles heavily in his chest.

Two Months Ago...

Just then, the bartender slides you a beer you’ve already ordered. You thank him and give Alec a smile.

“Got it covered, thanks,” you reply, sipping the froth off your drink.

Alec sighs and crosses his arms. “When are you gonna stop putting the freeze on me?”

“When I’m not part of your internal checklist of Breasts on Legs,” you answer.

Alec scoffs and holds his chest.

“That’s hurtful,” he claims. “It really is.”

But he shifts toward you in his seat, cutting off your smile. You tense up and blush at his proximity, making his grin deepen.

Damn, she smells good, he thinks.

“Besides,” he says, “I always save the best for last.”

He knows he’s making you nervous in a good way. He can sense it, though you eye him wryly. He means to go in for the kill, but he’s thwarted when Original Cindy slides into the seat on your other side. She tosses you a wink, the way women do when they have their own unspoken language.

You then smirk in Alec’s face.

“Keep trying. Maybe someday I’ll lose my mind,” you say, with a teasing raise of brows.

He’s still amused as he shakes his head. “You’re unbelievable. Insulting, yet, still somehow endearing.”

He means it. Every time you turn him down, he’s genuinely disappointed.

But if you ever change your mind, he’ll be right here waiting.

That memory falters as Alec stares up at the familiar mansion. He just doesn’t remember that he’s been here before—not until he rings the doorbell. That sound dislodges a fragment in his mind.

One that makes him hide from the surveillance cameras on instinct. It has him throwing the package over the gate and grabbing Max to guide her away from the house before they’ve been able to get a signature.

And a name rings through all the clutter. A name that was once seared into his mind is wrenched open like a badly sewn wound.

Rachel.

You don’t see Alec for a few days. Which is good, because you’ve been avoiding him. 

Until he finally shows up for work, and somehow, he looks off. He lacks the jovial, devil-may-care attitude he wears like a second skin. 

He glances at you down the line at your locker, catching your gaze.  

You still can’t bear it. You turn your head away, feeling like a coward. You hear his locker door slam loudly and he leaves without even getting his schedule from Normal. 

You rest your head against the cool metal of your locker.

“Where the hell’re you going, mister!” Normal calls after his former favorite employee.

Despite your better judgment, you sigh and push away from your locker to face your boss.

“He’s got a stomach bug. Real nasty,” you call out.

Normal’s frown deepens, but his expression softens from his hardened edge.

“Oh. Well…that’s all he needed to say,” he sniffs. He hands what would’ve been Alec’s load of packages onto Sketchy, who gives him a flat look.

“Go, get to work. Bip, bip!” Normal points a finger at him, then dismissively at the door.

Sketchy rolls his eyes, but he makes sure to send you a “thankful” look before he heads out. You give him a sardonic smile. Serves him right for taking Alec’s side in this whole messy situation, like the man children they both are.

Original Cindy comes to your side and lightly bumps your hip. She’s a strong support as always, and you give her a small smile.

“Come on, boo. I’m buyin’ your drinks at Crash tonight,” she says. You loop your arm through hers.

“Thank God for you, OC,” you breathe, though with a smile that feels a little more like yourself.

“Ladies night, it is,” she snaps playfully.  

And if that’s what tonight is, then you’re going to look good. No ratty jeans and boots meant for walking. After work, you dive into the depths of your closet and find an old favorite of yours: a black leather skirt and a lacey top, open-backed and a sweetheart neckline. You complete the look with a pair of heeled ankle boots and the only shade of red lipstick you own.

You just don’t count on Alec wanting a night out too.

He hangs out at Crash all the time. You can’t be surprised, you remind yourself, when you spot him at the bar. Except he doesn’t wear his usual suave confidence. No, he’s hunched over a glass of whiskey as he sits alone in front of the bartender. He doesn’t even notice you, Max, and Cindy as you guys claim your usual table in the back.

You can’t help it though. Your eyes keep drifting back to him.

Both Max and Cindy catch you, with something like sympathy on the latter’s face.

“I’ve never seen him like this before,” Cindy remarks. “Anguished, and all Heathcliff-like.”

She’s right, you think. He’s been like this for days.

Max seems to know him better than anyone. You turn to her in askance.

“This isn’t just because of…what happened, is it?” you say.

Max sighs and shakes her head. “No. I don’t think so.”

But she’s either unable, or unwilling to give you any more to go on.

…Goddamn it, you think, as you contemplate doing something stupid, like going over there to talk to him. You know you shouldn’t give him the time of day, but God help you, you still care about this asshole.

You heave a sigh. “I’ll be back in a few. And if not, I give you full permission to haul my ass out of this bar.”

“Don’t do it,” Cindy advises, with the tone of someone who knows you’re not going to listen.

You get up from the table and give your friends a placating hand. You roll your shoulders and force your feet to move—towards the bar.

The seat to Alec’s left is empty, and you take it. His gaze slides toward you, and he’s forced to do a double take. His familiar once-over has you almost smirking, but even that is missing something. It’s like something sucked the life right out of him.

He gives you a haphazard smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Thought you weren’t talking to me,” he says.

“How many of those are you going to drink?” you ask, gesturing at the third glass of whiskey in his hand. He glances down at it, then at nothing as his gaze travels away from you.

“Until I can’t feel the burn anymore,” he replies. Even his voice isn’t like him, dull and wry.

You hesitate, but you surprise even yourself by offering an olive branch.

“Look, if you want to talk about what happened…or anything else—” you try, but he cuts you off.

“I’m sorry,” he says, finally looking at you again. “I should’ve made it clear from the beginning that I wasn’t looking for anything serious.”

Your heart plummets. Your mouth works past shock and fresh hurt. You fight the sting in your eyes as your mouth flattens.

“So, you and I were just casual,” you confirm. “None of it meant anything to you?”

He looks over at you and pins you there. There’s a glimmer of something behind the cool green of his eyes. Like maybe part of him wants to rebel and give you hope. 

He stays quiet. 

So with tears in your eyes, you close out your tab, and you leave the bar to go home. You can’t even bring yourself to look over at your friends. You’re too embarrassed.

Meanwhile, Alec focuses on the contents of his glass, even though he knows nothing will ever be enough to numb him. 

Now that Manticore’s psychological reprogramming has crumbled, now that he remembers what happened two years ago—and what he did—nothing will make his fractured, bloody insides feel like nothing ever again.

Max and Original Cindy see the entire scene play out from across the bar. Cindy shakes her head with a hum of disappointment that black women have perfected.

Max’s answer is to get up, with much the same reluctance as you had, albeit for different reasons.

“I know I’m gonna regret this,” she sighs.

“Take your time,” Cindy says. She already has her flirtatious eye on another woman by the pool table.

Max smiles in amusement and leaves her friend to her business. She goes to her fellow transgenic and slips into the same seat you occupied moments before. Alec barely looks up at her.

“Call me crazy but I get the feeling you’re in some kind of jam,” she says. “More than just about your messy ex situation, though that was a nice cold shoulder you gave her.”

“Okay, you’re crazy,” he replies, raising his glass back to his lips.

Max presses her luck, asking about the locket Alec has always kept. At Manticore, he’d kept it in his shoe. He’d pull it out at night and try to remember why it was important, but he never could. All he knew was that it made him feel better, and he’d go to sleep easier.

Max saw it on him days ago. And now they both know it had belonged to Rachel Barrister, daughter of Robert Barrister. The man Alec was once sent to kill.

He’d both failed and succeeded.

“Curiosity killed the cat, Max,” Alec says snidely. “Stay out of my business.”

“Fine,” she says, but part of her still worries about him. And she worries about you. “Look, I know we don’t always get along—”

“Nicely understated,” he cuts, and sets down his glass a bit too hard on the counter. The bottom of it fractures. “Barkeep!”

“But if you’re in some kind of trouble and you need my help, then you should ask now, and not when it’s too late and everything’s all messed up, like you usually do,” she says.

“Well, I appreciate the offer, Max. I really do,” he says dryly, “but you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“You know, I would, see, but…you wouldn’t understand,” Alec says. He points out that Max and the rest of her little X5 friends left Manticore (escaped) when they were kids. The truth is, she has no idea what he’s endured ever since.

Manticore cracked down on the next series of X5s like him, and every series afterwards—they all paid the price for what Manticore saw as the failure of Max’s unit. Lax training. Traitors. Deserters. 

Alec didn’t see it at the time, not completely. He now knows just how deeply fucked up he was.

And is.

There’s no fixing it, like there’s no use trying to fix a broken toy.

So Max eventually walks away from him, just like you did. Just like he should have done for Rachel.

He knows he hurt you, but he also thinks it’s working out better this way. Better that you walk away from him, before he gets you hurt even worse.

It happens in stages, the way Alec’s memory unlocks. 

It sorts through the psychological methods of torture and erasure Manticore used to try and scrape the Barrister assignment from his mind. Not only did it not work, but Manticore still won. No matter what he does, he can’t block out the pain or the rush of memories. He can’t not feel. 

It’s a frustrating state of being for a soldier. 

Alec’s laissez faire way of coasting through life after Manticore burned down was his version of stoicism, of surviving. 

But if this is living, then he doesn’t want it. 

That’s why he loses focus. He runs headlong into the trap his rational mind is warning him of—into that mansion, where Robert Barrister has led him with the torturous siren song of Rachel’s favorite piano sonata. The very same one he taught her, just two years ago.

Alec wants to rip the notes out of his head, but he still goes to the house.

Somehow, a fifty-five-year-old man gets the drop on Alec, a soldier. A transgenic. 

Barrister knows who and what he is. He’s been in the game long enough against Manticore to know who he used to sell his products to, but he can’t quite pull the trigger on that gun, even though Alec goads him on. Shouting at him to do it. End his misery. 

Rachel. 

Max saves his ass again. It’s a frankly embarrassing number she’s racked up on that count, as she stuns Barrister and knocks him out before he can deliver the kill shot directly into Alec’s temporal lobe. 

Alec doesn’t care. 

He doesn’t care.

He doesn’t care, until Robert tells him where she is, upstairs in her room. Alec travels down the familiar corridor, and he sees her again. 

Rachel. Oh God…

She’s wrapped up in wires because of him; in a coma, slowly dying for the past two years. She pulled her father from the car that was meant to explode and end his life. Rachel fell. 

Alec sinks down into a chair beside her bed. For a moment all he can do is stare at her pale face.

Because of him. His job. His mission, that he couldn’t complete, because he tried to save her. It was too late, she paid the price, and it was all because of him.

Because he couldn’t fight the training drilled deep into his mind. He couldn’t fight his captors, not hard enough.

She paid the price. 

Alec sits at her bedside for as long as he can. He slips her locket back into her cold hand. He holds her as close as he dares, and begs for forgiveness through near-silent tears. 

“I didn’t understand,” he whispers brokenly. “I didn’t understand…how much I loved you.”

Alec attends Rachel’s funeral, a few weeks later. He stands almost a quarter of a mile away, but he can still hear the service. He goes to her grave, and he accepts the caustic words from her father. 

“Never come back here,” Robert hisses. “I wanted to kill you. I hated you that much. But I’m still her father. I want her to be proud of me…and I don’t want to be like you.”

Alec silently accepts this. He knows what he is. Now, he knows what he’s done is unforgivable. 

He also knows it’s time to let her go. 

So he says a silent goodbye before he walks away from the grave and the cemetery. He intends to go home… 

He doesn’t quite make it there.

Alec is forced to walk through a torrent of rain. He barely feels it beating down on his head, back, and shoulders. 

Somehow, he ends up dripping wet at your apartment. His tall frame takes up your doorway when you open it to him. 

This feels familiar, you think, as you take him in. Once again, you’re dressed in just your pajamas of choice: a loose shirt over a pair of shorts. Your hair is tossed into a bun. 

You aren’t sure if it’s rain or tears dripping down his wet cheeks. His eyes are red enough to convince you of the latter. 

“What’re you—”

“I’m sorry,” he says. His voice is a hint unsteady.

Your mouth falls open the slightest bit, but eventually, you sigh.

“Alec,” is all you can say. Go away, are words you can’t force past your lips, even if you have every right to say them.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I uh…I don’t know why I’m here.”

“You don’t know?” you repeat, your eyes widening incredulously. 

He shakes his head, but he aims to leave. This was a mistake, he thinks.

You don’t know what to make of him right now. Hasn’t he hurt you enough?

He seems different though. He looks like he’s one step shy of falling apart, and you’ve never seen such rawness in his eyes.

Something inside you breaks, and you grab his wet hand before he can escape down the hall. You’re persistent in leading him inside your apartment, where it’s warm. You offer him some dry clothes he left behind last month.

After he gets changed, he sits on your couch with you. His silence is so confusing, you’re not sure what to do. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Me,” he says, chuckling humorlessly. “I’m what’s wrong. I uh…I should go.”

He gets to his feet, all twitching nervous energy, and again he tries to leave. You feel compelled to stand with him and follow him to the door.

“Wait,” you say, holding the door closed. Your hand lands on his arm, imploring with everything you have. “Alec, just tell me what the hell is going on. You’re scaring me.”

His eyes drag up your body, and slowly meet yours.

I didn’t understand…

Alec can’t help it; he raises a gentle hand to touch your cheek. You don’t deserve someone like him wrecking your life. He can’t be fixed, and he doesn’t want to break you too. 

You hold his hand to your face. “Alec. Talk to me, please.”

In your face, he finds concern and the threat of tears, and his heart continues to hemorrhage. 

There’s still room for you there. You’ve carved out a place in what’s left of it, without him realizing. He’s getting better at seeing the warning signs. 

You let out a shaky breath. “Just tell me the truth. Are you in trouble? Are you here because you have nowhere else to go, or—”

“Honestly, yeah,” he finally admits.

You deflate in response. What the hell?! 

Now you’re just about ready to push him out of your apartment and warn him that he better not come back. His grip on your arms stops you.

“This is the only place…” he continues, his jaw working. “Can’t seem to move my feet anywhere else.”

He means what he says, even if it’s not coming out right. After seeing Rachel’s prone body in her bed, coming back to face you is one of the hardest things he’s ever done. And yet, there's nowhere else he could go that felt right. He meets your eyes and notices the way you’re holding your breath.

“Uh, I kinda lied to you before,” he confesses. Your brows raise at that. 

“When?” you challenge.

He licks his dry lips. “At the bar. Last time we met.”

“So when you said,” you struggle to articulate it, because just the thought of it still hurts. “What you and I had…that it didn’t mean anything…”

His hands slide down from your arms, to hold your hands in his.

“I was an idiot. I didn’t know what it meant,” Alec says. “I do now.”

Your eyes flood with tears as you let go of a heavy breath. Alec releases your hands to hold your face with shaking hands. In turn, you hold his wrists steady. 

"You really hurt me, you know," you say. Your voice is a near whisper, but your words cut into him all the same.

"I know," he replies, as his thumbs caress your skin. "I'm sorry about that. About everything...which is why we probably shouldn't do this."

He really says that, even as his hands drift down to your neck, where he can feel your pulse beating and picking up speed. Alive.

“What?” you ask, with genuine confusion. You pull away from him a little, frowning up at him. "Then what are we doing right now? Either you want to be with me, or you don't, Alec."

His eyes meet yours.

You’re so real, so honest. Alec starts to think, to understand that this is what lured him in. It had him coming back to you every time you turned him down. It kept him coming back to you when you were his. 

She can still be yours, he thinks. It’s a selfish thought, but here he is.   

So he draws you in and kisses you deeply.

He doesn’t know how this can still feel right, even though his chest pulses with pain. But maybe, being with you is a different kind of pain. Maybe it’s not pain at all. 

You asked him for the truth though. He can’t give you everything, but he can give you one piece of the puzzle; perhaps the only one that matters. He parts from you, opening his eyes to find your face. Your eyes are still closed, and when you open them, you start to blush. 

It almost makes him smile, but his brain is still warring with his heart.

“I’ve only ever cared about one person in my life…and I lost her,” he says. “I’m not good at this.”

“How,” you ask, a bit hesitantly. “How did you lose her?”

His throat is tight. It’s all so fresh, he doesn’t even know how he gets out the words.

“She died,” he admits.

Your expression falls, and you shake your head.

“I’m sorry,” you reply, holding onto his shirt. “I’ve lost people too.”

He thumbs at your cheek. He sees your sympathy so clearly across your face, though he doesn’t know how you can still give that to him. It goes against everything he’s ever been taught, and everything he’s learned in order to survive. 

He can’t help but let you back in, just like you’re about to do for him.  

“It’s really this simple. If you want me to forgive you, if you really want to be here, with me, exclusively…then all you have to do is stay,” you say at last. Your lips press together for a moment. “But if you play me again, Alec, I swear to God—”

“No. No swearing’s necessary,” he says, and kisses you again. He’s surprised he’s able to smile, just a little, and he does so against your lips. 

You break from him to grip his shirt and glare up at him. “You understand me?”

Alec’s smile deepens a fraction. He brushes your hair away from your face. 

“Indeed, I do, Miss Ma’am.”

It takes you a beat, but you roll your eyes, despite a lingering blush.

“Ugh, don’t call me that.”

“Why not?” he starts to tease. “You seem to like giving out orders, I just thought you’d like a title change to go with it.”

You slap his chest half-heartedly. “Shut up.” 

“See? More demands,” he quips. “I don’t know if I can work in this environment—”

You pull him down for a kiss to shut him up indefinitely. 

And like it so often has, it leads into your room with the two of you falling haphazardly into your bed. He situates himself between your legs and traps you underneath him as he kisses a wet path up your neck. You arch against him and your hands dive under his shirt to help him wrench it off. 

It’s all very fast, and a bit frantic until he has you naked underneath him. 

His hand finds your cheek, touching softly, like he’s afraid to break you. There’s pain in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. Your brows furrow, though you caress a hand up the back his neck. He shudders when you unintentionally brush his barcode. 

“Alec, what happened?” you ask.

He shakes his head. He wishes he could tell you. He wants to tell you…everything. It scares him, because he also wants to run out of here, putting as much distance between himself and you as possible. 

But again, he’s selfish. This time, he understands why his heart is pulsing with both pain and longing when he stares into your eyes for too long.

“I can’t,” he says. “Not tonight… Can we just focus on the good part here?”

Despite yourself, you smile with a small huff. You take his face in your hands and bring him down to meet your searing kiss. 

The good part, indeed.

AN: And here's an angsty Part 2! lol Let me know what you think! 💜

You might want to buckle up for where we're going next...

Next Time:

He takes one corner of your towel and peels it off you slowly, until your body is bare for his gaze. His eyes take in every inch of you before they make it back to your face.

He smiles, taking down the messy bun from your head to have your hair fanning wildly across his pillows. Your hands move across his chest and further down, but he puts a stop to your exploration. He grasps your wrists and pins them down to the bed with a strength you can’t escape.

You raise your brows. “Alec?”

“Trust me,” he says, dipping down to kiss your neck. “Let me take care of you tonight.”

You suck in a breath. Far be it from you to argue with that.

“Is this one of those sexual favors?” you tease. He laughs against your skin.

“You’re about to find out.”

Keep Reading: Part 3

Series Masterlist

Alec McDowell Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Alec M. Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog

@globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989

@waters-2567 @iwishiwas-sleeping @jessjad @pieandmonsters @akshi8278 @honeybabycherry @deans-spinster-witch @angelbabyyy99 @jackles010378 @nancymcl @idiotdyslexic @heartlessdelusions

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Alfred getting protective of Bruce's new wife? i need it

It was unusual for anyone to accompany Alfred on his forrays to the farmer's market. Generally, Bruce wasn't awake and taking any of the other staff with him tended to irritate him

But, as you walked next to him in companionable silence, sipping your latte, unphased by the mud or the light drizzle, he didn't mind so much. You appreciated a comfortable silence- and, it would give him time to learn your likes and dislikes.

As rough as your parent's manners might be, you were too polite to tell him if something wasn't to your taste. And it was hard to tell if you didn't like something or simply weren't hungry. The only thing he knew, really was that you only liked spinach fresh and that you absolutely hated honey mustard. In anything for any reason. If it touched anything you were eating, you simply would not eat that.

And, he supposed, it was good to get you out of the house for something other than social engagements you found nerve-wracking and work.

"This way, ma'am," he said, gesturing with his free hand. He didn't doubt you could take care of yourself but. The men loitering near the entrance immediately locked on you- be it the recent press coverage or your tendency to cause trouble he didn't know. But. He wasn't about to take chances.

So, as he'd done many times before- when Bruce was a boy, he put himself between you and the potential threat. Quietly. Not drawing attention to it and trying not to alarm you.

"I wonder if rhubarb is in season, yet" you muse, going the direction he indicated.

"Rhubarb?" he asked. Unusual, for someone your age.

"Somewhere in one of my Grandma's recipe boxes I have her recipe for a strawberry rhubarb crumble," you answer. An explanation that isn't one. But not quite equivocation.

"I was unaware you could make anything other than toasted cheese and canned soup," he said, eyes crinkling at the corners.

"I can follow directions, as long as they aren't too fancy," you shrug. "Mom didn't cook much. And Dad could really only manage fried eggs and spam."

"It was a matter of survival then," he chuckled.

"And making the grocery budget last," you snort. "By the time I was 13 I was doing the cooking, cleaning, and the shopping."

"A useful skill," he allowed.

"And between that and law school I can now prep chicken like 87 ways as long as I have a decent spice cupboard."

"Then I shall endeavor to keep it stocked."

"Also we need more sourdough bread for grilled cheese," you tell him. "Dick's decided that grilled cheese is his favorite food."

"Duly noted."

[2frosty4you]

Hello!! I'm the one who requested the reader getting hurt in battle haha, hope you don't mind me requesting again! Don't worry I won't be doing this too much lol. This one's probably a bit weird, so I completely understand if you don't wanna do it! I wanted to know if I could request the mercs comforting a teen reader who just got out of an unhealthy relationship? I just got out of a toxic relationship and it'll really make me feel better :,) Please and thank you!!

Mercs comforting teen reader after toxic relationship [Platonic]

| All mercs x GN!Reader Platonic | 749 words | Masterlist | Ask/Request |

Hi again anon! Hopefully you're feeling better now, it sucks horribly you had to go through that kind of relationship but at least you are out of it now <3

TW: Violence, blood n murder; the usual for ghosty's tf2 stuff

╔═════════════════╗

Scout

Big brother scout here is to kick ass for his younger sibling 💪💪💪

But honestly he doesn't know what do to, he offers to beat your ex's head in

Look its the scout way of showing his love, he's trying

Asks spy what to do, he doesn't help so he then goes to engie

He gives you some of his food, that being fried chicken of course

Soldier

"NO ONE HURTS A CADET UNDER THE WATCHFUL EYE OF AN AMERICAN SOLDIER"

He bellows down the hall when he sees you crying, look he cares about you. He just inst that bright

Already knows where your ex lives because he kept a close eye on them, more like stalked him but he's just being a good American dad

Beheads your ex and places it on a spike to use as target practice

Throughout the day he brings raccoons into your room, offers you guns and his American blankets

Pyro

>:(

Covers you in all their plushies and blankets, leaving you covered in soft pink balloonicorns and fluffy blankets

They roast marshmallows for you, and gets engineer to help make hot cocoa

They'll creep out of the base and hunt down your ex for hurting you.

Heavy

Russian man rise up 💪

He cooks you a nice traditional Russian soup

Keeps you on the couch and brings all the food to you, keeps scout far from you in this state

Will read some Russian fairy-tales or novels to you, with the lights dim and you covered in blankets

Gives you a giant bear hug

If he comes across your ex he will knock them out and give their body to medic

Engineer

Texan Father mode activated

The moment he finds you crying he is instantly ushering you to his workshop and offering to cook anything you wish.

He'll let you vent to him, but if you need silence he'll just work on his mechanics while in the room with you.

You are his child, no ifs or buts

and no one hurts his kid

but he'd get spy to give him your ex's address

then would absolutely strip your ex's car for bits and pieces, taking the wheels, engine, battery, steering wheel you name it

He'd bring soldier with him for optimal damage

Demoman

Drunk off his head (as usual)

Offers you his scrumpy

look he doesn't know what to do, like scout but he's trying to show you he cares

If you refuse the scrumpy he'd offer you to sit with him and just be in each others presence.

May or may not rig your ex's house with explosives

Medic

Where do they live, whats their phone number, whats their email, whats their blood type who do they live with and are they healthy?

You tell him any of that and he's instantly found your ex, kidnapped them, and while they're alive he takes all their organs and makes it as painful as possible

When you come for medic for some comfort he'll coo, patting your back while offering you a nice warm drink. draping his (CLEAN) lab coat over your back and letting you stay on his chair.

He's not good with comforting, but will let you vent to him and just stay within the med bay

Probably asks heavy to comfort you after a while

Sniper

Scraggly old man

Like most of the other mercs he has no clue how to comfort you during this time

I mean he lives out in his van and rather live in the bush than in a house

He'd take you out into the bush to get away from society, and keeps watch in-case you are anxious about your ex finding you

if you ex was extremely abusive sniper would kill them with no remorse, but ensure the bullet hits them where it would make their death slow and painful.

Spy

Spy comforting? lol no, sorry

He would pat your shoulder awkwardly

When you leave he's already tracked your ex down (not hard since he'd been keeping tabs on them ever since you two got together)

Blackmails your ex into the ground, forces them to make a video apology, give up their belongings and more. He sends the video and all his collected photos and videos of their abuse to your ex's family.

By family i mean everyone who is merely connected with them

Would throw his card at you, telling you nothing as he lets you go crazy with his money

He thinks retail therapy would help

If you thank him for anything he'd wave you off, saying "he deserved it" and lighting another cigarette.

╚═════════════════╝

[liliththeimp]

sum ghosts hc’s :3 pt 1–SFW

Once again back at it with my SAS wife cos my brain is rotting like disintegrating cotton candy so here are some headcannons i made (posted on ao3 but thought they deserved a bit recognition here too lol)

Now these are just some personal hcs ive made or seen that i liked;

the numbered sfw hcs are going to tie into the nsfw hcs, for clarification!!

SFW:

He loves music, like anything 70’s to 90’s in a sense? Like, sum pink floyd or shinedown (ik but it stuck after an ai chat and i cant fucking let it go-) nu metal, death/black metal, gothic metal, throw in some thrash/groove metal- anything with metal really

Onto my next point, he’s good at guitar, like really good, he has a gibson guitar he named (idfk what he named it, probably after you tho lmao)^1

He’s a straight up asshole, like, blunt calls everyone cunts, he’s just a a British as shoe dude what did you expect. But the funny thing is, if you end up cursing him out like a sailo he will find that as a major turn on ^2

Simple man doesnt like complicated food, just a normal burger and fries and he’ll be grateful. And if you cook good luck he eats like a bear (how else u think he’s bulky???)

He likes winter over any season bc its the opposite of where he’s been, though allergies/sickness do annoy the shit out of him cus he sneeze into his mask and it pisses him off

Likes milkshakes and i won't expand on that.

He’s a big softy for like small gifts, he may not show it but that macaroni necklace he called stupid? He has it on his night stand so it wont get ruined. You got a bracelet you gave him three months ago? He wears it everyday.

Pretty testing and bully-ish, but will just become a stuttering mess when you tame him, the slight blush peeing through his balaclava will give you enough lee way to make him fall in love with you

“blink mf.” 

Stares down new recruits, no exceptions- when he sees you, he ends up staring more

Knows some ASL when he’s not exactly in a talkative mood (not gonna say non-verbal bc, i doesnt fit him? he’s just like middle finger up to say fuck you, thats his sign language lmao)

Pretty big book worm in his free time

Fast learner at anything, i imagine he has a hard time remembering shit bc of his trauma n shit will do that to ya, but if he watched something long enough he can get it down.

Likes some spicy food

Doesn't do video games, he just doesnt think their any fun

OMFG this man- he makes fucking BACON in his GRILLED CHEESE. I argued with him (literally only with a fucking AI bot like some looser but my point still stands;) about how that's an abomination, grilled cheeses are meant for, and paired ONLY with tomato soup, sometimes chicken noodle. but he believes it the most delicious thing, he’s not putting watered down ketchup next to his beautiful creation.

Stubborn and pouts easily, you say something he doesnt realize is a joke he hold onto that grudge. “Why are you so upset right now? What did i do?” He huffed, uncrossing his arms “you didnt hold the door for me and I slammed my face! You didnt even apologize!!” You blinked, lips pressing into a thin line “are you fucking 5.”

his love languages is more quality time than physical touch- but Jesus Christ this man will get clingy af once he trusts you (after he takes off his mask fully 4 the first time, he trusts you with his whole heart- dont break it pwease- hes hes jus a little guy)

Ok really like bully breed dogs, like his favorite.

loves to hold your hand, like if you wrap your hand around two of his fingers specifically, he’ll turn into a blush mess and so so prideful, (like big softy friendly giant who could totally crush you- and he’s like so gentle) ^3

Gives a lot of thought before he compliments you, like studies the way you do things- like, hair clips, clothes, colors, make up, shoes, etc etc, he loves to study your features.

Can cook- like, really good- but ends up ordering takeout or pizza cos he’s lazy

On his trips, like when he get deployed longer than a couple of months, he brings back sand for you from the places he’s been and you have a small shelf full of small files of the sand (unlabeled btw, you just know which is which)

tries not to get angry or lash out or get like, cold or distant with you bc he really cares he’s just scared of fucking up and you leaving once you see how broken he is

Does all those horrible jokes, his voice is slow and gruff and just- gravelly? Like, he talks like the Grimm reaper himself and makes a yo mama joke

Doesn’t know how to ask for attention so he’ll come up behind you and tug a strand of your hair or nudge you- shit he’s thrown pillows at you then stares at you with a straight face “cuddles.”

“Not arguing with a dude with big brown eyes. Like, whatever you say beautiful”

he loves eye contact wen talking about serious shit- like, complimenting you, or saying i love you, he wants you to look him in the face and understand how much he means it….yet you turn into a blushing stuttering mess when he does, and he laughs to himself ^4

Stares at ‘settings’ on his phone to avoid social situations. Argue with the wall.

in the thickest, most unintelligible, uninterpretable British accent possible “YA KNO’ WHAT YOU DIR’Y ‘ITTLE CUNT—”

Incoherent British slang, colonizer alphabet soup if you will.

plays hello kitty island adventure or cooking mama un-ironically

Can’t spell “gynecologist” (geneycologist/ gin-i-colo-gist) or “bologna” (balaonie/ balony)

If there’s ever a baby in the store or something, and the baby is staring at him, he’ll make funny faces (mainly cross his eyes and makes small sounds)

doesn’t think he’ll be a good dad, but still thinks about it- believes he’s not good enough for a family ^5

Anywho continue onto part 2 here for spic stuff you perv >:3

[what-even-is-thiss]

As an egg lover, could you give me advice on what to do with them? I like having them around for weekend breakfasts or baking, but I often find they go bad before I can get through them all.

Try making a bunch of boiled eggs to eat whenever.

Also if you like ramen eggs and tend to eat instant ramen you can marinade a few ahead of time to use whenever.

To make the marinade you basically take equal parts water, soy sauce, and either sake or mirin and heat it up to dissolve some sugar in it on the stove.

Probably 1/4 to 1/3 cup each and a big spoonful of sugar for most people’s needs or even less. You just need enough to cover all your eggs in a plastic bag or something.

Let it cool to room temperature first and put it in a bag or other container with some peeled medium boiled eggs and let it sit between an hour and ten hours. Don’t go more than twelve hours. The longer you let them sit the more marinade gets into them and if you let it sit too long it can get so salty it’s gross. Even if you love salty food trust me it’s too much.

You can also make all kinds of fast breakfasts or lunches with eggs if you have the means to cook. I really like a fried egg over rice with miso soup. I usually use instant rice and premade soup so it makes for a quick breakfast. A fried egg over toast or scrambled eggs with salsa are also fast to make and really good.

You can also poach eggs in the microwave. This must be done with caution however. You need to poke a couple of holes in the yolks with a fork or something so they don’t explode. Put them in a small amount of water maybe 1/3 cup and a splash of vinegar in a mug or something and microwave them for 15 second increments checking on them in between until they look done enough to you. I’ve done it this way for years and never had an explosion.

You can also get some of those just crack an egg things or make your own ahead of time. My brother really likes those. It’s basically microwave scrambled eggs with a bunch of fillings.

A thing you can do with eggs for dinner is make quiche out of them. Or perhaps a Spanish omelette. Those are omelettes so thick you need to cut them like a pizza. I think they call them a tortilla in Spain but that’s not what a tortilla is where I’m from so I call it a Spanish omelette.

Eggs in purgatory is another good one for dinner. Yes that’s the name of the dish. It’s poached eggs in spiced tomato sauce basically. You can also make egg curry. Really good with soft boiled eggs.

Egg drop soup is good. You can make carbonara if you’ve got pasta and bacon lying around. Baked eggs, American toad in the hole which is an egg fried inside a hollowed out piece of bread. That one can be a hit with kids especially. Migas is good. Fried rice is a good use of eggs and leftover rice and pretty easy to make.

Fried eggs also go good on burgers and pizza. Really. It’s better than you think.

[wwrenwrites]

Jason Todd x Filipino! reader headcanons

A/n: i don’t care if this will be my most flopped post, I had to do God’s work

He would LOVE Filipino food

Jason is pretty open with food considering he has traveled frequently for work.

Being accustomed to seeing rice available even if it’s high in carbs lol. Started as a pancit (stir fried noodles) boy to a BIG garlic rice boy ever since you’ve introduced him to it.

Could see him really liking champorado (chocolate rice porridge) for some reason, since there is something so homey about it. Plus it’s not that sweet. He definitely have tried it with tuyo (salted dried fish) when you mentioned it but prefers it just the champorado alone.

Jason enjoys Jollibee most specifically the fried chicken, both of you have movie nights with a bucket on the coffee table with pineapple juice or alcohol. Would find Filipino spaghetti ‘meh’ cause it’s a bit too sweet for his liking but he wouldn’t mind it after a few more tries since there’s that child-like taste that makes it addicting.

Would 100% love lumpiang shanghai (Filipino spring rolls) and quotes as he explains it to Roy or any of his brothers ‘a way better version of Chinese spring rolls’, just like how you told him. He stops craving for the usual spring rolls if you guys go for Chinese take outs from then on.

Despite what the media depicts of having adobo (soy sauce & vinegar chicken stew), sinigang (tamarind stew) or ube hyped. He does think Filipino food is still very underrated compared to Thai, Chinese, Japanese etc.

Could also see him enjoying clear soup stews like pork sinigang & bulalo (clear soup with beef shanks & bone marrow) because of the homey taste versus the flavored stews but he definitely still enjoys them (also see him being a big kare- kare (peanut butter stew) lover by your influence.

Like every other man, he would be a sucker for San Miguel beer. He knew about it even before both of you were dating since there is a small Filipino town in Gotham. Considering he goes to different bars from time to time. He would enjoy the concept of food on sizzling plate but it would take time for him to actually try exotic street food specially Balut (duck embryo) lol. But he’s down for it!

Spicy White Boy

Canon- wise, he knows Portuguese and there are lots of similar words with Spanish. Which I’m sure he knows maybe the most basic and common sense ones; so Jason understanding a good amount of Tagalog shouldn’t be surprising but would baffle you when you find out he started learning bit by bit for you.

It is very impressive indeed, there are not a lot of good resources in studying it. However, Jason is a Wayne and if his father was able to learn Kryptonian. He would easily be in a level of fluency by time.

And being the intelligent simp he is. He would understand it in a good level in less than a year or two when both of you are pretty much ‘all in’ in the relationship. Especially when you brought up one time before you were both exclusive, that you were scared of the idea of your partner being left out in family events even if English is pretty much the second main language in the Philippines.

Though I feel he would have more confidence in trying to speak the language after a few more years including a few slangs cause he doesn’t want to handle the anxiety of being roasted by your family & friends even if he obviously has thick-ass skin.

You keep telling him that he has already won his parents approval (too fast) when he swoon them with just the use of ‘po’ and ‘opo’ the first time meeting them. Plus the very occasional whispers of ‘gwapo’ , handsome, or ‘matangkad’, tall, here and there would give him a mix of a sheepish ego boost.

Culture Differences

THE ‘NO SHOES IN THE HOUSE’ RULE is a mutual practice that both of you have no problem doing. It has always been a routine for Jason when he gets home and right away he would wash up just so he could be in bed with you.

The no shoes rule seems to be only followed by Alfred when he drops by with groceries for him in his apartment. It bewilders his siblings when he makes a big deal out of it even if they are just dropping by (uninvited as usual) but also more like so you wouldn’t get triggered if you get to meet them but frankly it triggers Jason more since he’s quite neat as a roomie (plus future hubby points too.)

THE FAMILY CULTURE in a Filipino household is usually a mix of chaos and laughter which Jason is quite familiar with but with your family he could tell how close all of you are from all the frequent get together celebrations or holiday trips.

But also he was told a few times from some neighborhood titos (uncle) when he was still in the streets that the number 1 rule when dating a pinoy (shortened term for Filipino) is if you’re ‘dating a Filipino you’re also dating their whole family.’ You even tell him when you show pictures of your immediate relatives and family, that it’s basically a whole village if you include your extended relatives which shocks him even more. You don’t even know who are all your aunts or uncles names nor your second cousins.

You gave him a heads up and number of pointers to Jason when you were both talking about your families plus the never ending group pictures and selfies that awaits. You get worried if he would be overwhelmed even if he tells you, “Doll, don’t worry you literally met mine” “It’s not the same.” With a kiss on your forehead and the cute pout he loves still present.

He immediately gets interrogated and compliments which takes him a back getting him a bit shy. Would vibe with your cousins and would be forced to sing. The karaoke machine playing till midnight, the never ending food being offered in his plate but also your baby cousins getting attached to him which you greatly adore. He would purposely annoy you with flirty gestures in front of your cousins just for you to swat his arm or his biceps multiple times getting a reaction from your comments mixed of ‘yiee’ or ‘landi!’(flirt).

SOUVENIRS in Filipino is pasalubong, and it doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re materialistic it’s more of the thought when a person is away; may it be for family & friends.

Jason bringing home food or snacks when he goes out or something unique when coming from a long mission for you has been natural. You don’t expect him to always bring something home for you of course. Fortunately, Jason loves spoiling you and seeing you sulk when you rummage his duffle bag filled with used clothes and is helmet is too cute. Plus, this is definitely one of the first words he would understand besides the word ‘makulit’ (a neutral connotation of annoying, cheeky, and naughty combined.) and other cuss words.

The first time Jason brings you to the Wayne manor Alfred and Bruce immediately doesn’t see you as a threat especially with a bottle of wine or fruits as formalities. You panic a bit when both of you weren’t able to bring anything to the manor every time you go after that, he has to reassure you it’s fine. Though he appreciates and finds it adorable on how much his family becomes fond of you because of how genuine you are.

When you and Jason travel, you would be having an extra luggage for goodies and shopping and would get endless teasing from Jason. You would tease him back though if he needs something but you would also use his luggage as well if needed for everything you bought.

[solsticethebatearedfox]

Bad Kids Food + Cooking Headcanons

Adaine

Before moving in to Mordred, she couldn't cook for shit. Her family had unseeing servants and stuff and it was assumed she would never need to know.

Eventually Jawbone, Lydia and Sandra Lynn teach her. She begins to love it - it feels similar to ritual spellcasting for her.

After the Nightmare Forest, she starts cooking and baking with Aelwyn. They make a mean black forest cake together. It's great bonding time

Kristen

Is better with camp food than regular food - made it at church camps a lot

Also had to cook for her siblings constantly (we stan parentification :/) but for the most part it was chicken nuggets and microwaved corn kernels and whatever - easy, processed meals

However, her mother insisted she know how to cook because when she had a husband and children it would be her job. So she would often make roast meals and big servings of chicken corn soup to freeze for the week

To this day she hates cooking - it brings back bad memories and feelings.

Fig

Much like Kristen, better at camp food (ie. ranger meals that Sandra Lynn taught her)

She kinda knows how to forage and hunt but not as well as Sandra Lynn would like

She loves baking but has little patience

Her decorating skills are non-existent but she tries

Fabian

My man can't cook for shit, like at all. He can't even make a sandwich. Cathilda tried to teach him but his parents would often intervene so he never had the patience to learn.

Riz

Riz would be a good cook if he knew how. Unfortunately Sklonda didn't have the time to teach him or the money to buy ingredients for him to learn. She did what she could - he at least knows sandwichs and pasta and rice and very basic staples - but he couldn't tell you how to cook steak

After the Nightmare Forest, Sandra Lynn teaches him how to forage and hunt. He takes to it far better than Fig (he has more patience for it)

Gorgug

Other than Adaine after season two, Gorgug is the best chef of the bad kids. Ain't no way Digby & Wilma were letting him not know how to cook.

He likes baking too, but mainly does things like slow cooker stews and pulled pork sliders with homemade curly fries.

He enjoys seeing the delight on his friends' faces when he makes them food

Honorary Bad Kids

Ragh is in the same boat as Adaine - didn't learn until after Jawbone was in his life. After he worked through his issues, Ragh got really close to Lydia via learning how to cook. Now he often cooks with Gorgug, making BBQ dinners together for their families

Ayda doesn't know how to cook. Past iterations might have but this one doesn't. She has Garthy after all. But she does enjoy baking with Fig or Adaine (and sometimes even helping Gorgug or Ragh)

Tracker knows how to cook, Jawbone taught her. She learnt how to cook on a tight budget, and how to forage and hunt. She and Sandra Lynn bonded over that

Aelwyn is the same as Adaine, never knew until after the Nightmare Forest. She gets really into it, especially baking, making perfect macarons and puff pastry. It's escapism, but she doesn't always have the spoons (it takes a lot outta her)