#now with bonus recipes help

[wttcsms]

saying let's get married;

domestic and sweet moments during the first year of newly-wed life (f!reader) <3

KUROO — "my wife" this and "my wife" that to the point where all his friends and coworkers are groaning and saying we get it, man! you're married now! his dorky nonfiction books taking up all the space on the nightstand. helping him tame his bed hair when he wakes up and is trying to get ready for work. created a powerpoint presentation where he told you he was going to give you the most epic promotion of a lifetime (the powerpoint was themed to mimic an HR presentation describing new employee benefits and perks, along with what the new position would consist of; the final slide asked "do you accept the position of being tetsurou kuroo's wife? limited time bonus offer includes a diamond ring!")

OSAMU — doesn't know how to fold your clothes properly (it's not weaponized incompetence, he just doesn't understand why your tops have these many strings and components to them). tries out all his new recipes with you as his taste-testing guinea pigs. during your wedding reception, atsumu asked you who was cuter: him or osamu. on your off days from your job, you go to onigiri miya and help him close down the shop. blowing bubbles at him from the soap that foams up when you're washing the dishes. him knowing where you're most ticklish and using it against you every time he asks you for a minor favor.

BOKUTO — asks you about kid names before he even pops the question. wants you to quiz him on your family tree because he so badly wants to impress them when he's meeting them (he then asks for a quiz on your extended family once the wedding date is scheduled). gets excited when he sees those corny tiktoks that claim "these initials are soulmates" and he sees yours and his initials paired together; he'll send you those tiktoks and go "babe, look!!! i told u we were meant to be!!" brings you up any time he can, whether it's in regular conversation with friends, small talk with a cashier, a meet n greet with a fan, or a post-game interview. loves to do push-ups with you on his back.

OIKAWA — makes a vision board at the beginning of the year, except the main image is a horribly photoshopped picture of your head pasted on some stock photo of a bride. he was showing you something on his phone, and the notification from his jeweler announcing that your engagement ring was ready for pick up popped up and he nearly dropped his phone while trying to hurriedly swipe away the notification whilst shielding his screen from you. gets all pouty and wants to be the little spoon; will also start asking you "baaaabe, would you still love me if i was a worm?" saw you in the stands booing his opposing team, and whistled, exclaiming "that's my girl!" panics when he sees strands of his hair on the bathroom floor; proceeds to ask you if you'll still be with him even if he becomes bald. then asks if you'll pay for his hair transplant (as a joke; you never use your card when you're with him).

[mobbu-min]

☆ yummy in my tummy ☆

requested by:

After reading the pretty boy fics, I got to ask: "How would the dorm leaders (and the rest if you want to write about them) react to being given food from the reader (who cooks and bakes god tier food) who is concerned for their wellbeing?" - anon Headcanons for Dorm Leaders with an s/o who loves to spoil them with delicious homemade meals, sweets and snacks. - anon Could I request something domestic? Housewardens with an s/o that cooks for them almost everyday? -anon

a/n I decided to combine these three requests! I'm not sure if there were anymore of the same variety, so if I missed it, I'm sorry T^T Gonna split this into three parts, so keep an eye out for the other two! I wanted to keep this vague, i didn’t mention any type of specific food, but make it known, i am craving tamales so badly

included: grim, all of heartslabyul and savanaclaw

tw none

Ramshackle <3

⋆ He eats your food every day. Your best customer is the one and only GRIM THE GREAT! Food always tastes good to this little guy, but food made by you? Top tier! Nothing could beat it (the overblot stones probably could) He’s a pain in your ass when you're cooking/baking, constantly trying to get a nibble from your ingredients. His hungry ass is just too impatient. After a long and hard day, all he wants is to lay back and eat some tuna and one of your sweet treats for dessert. It's the best way to end his day.

Heartslabyul <3

⋆ You see once you start cooking for them, you’re not going to stop. Cater and Ace make sure of it. They all love your cooking! They feel so loved and cared for with each dish you lovingly made for them. Does this contribute to their ever growing feelings for you?

⋆ Yes, yes it does.

⋆ Riddle was kinda on edge by it. Not because he thought you were a horrible cook, he’s tasted Ace’s cooking before, but because he didn’t understand the warm feeling in his chest. Riddle’s mother never cooked, instead she had chefs cook the blandest (healthy, she claimed) foods for them both. He’s never felt the warmth and comfort from a home cooked dish. Trey is an excellent cook, and even better baker, but it’s Trey. You were different, always had been to him. Riddle almost moaned at the taste of the different spices and flavors that exploded in his mouth. This boy has never tasted so many all at once. It was truly an eye opener. Riddle asks if you could teach him some recipes.

⋆ So relieved. Trey is just the epitome of a parent finally sitting down after a long day when you come to help in the kitchen or bring containers of food. Trey finds himself visiting you at Ramshackle more often, with the intention of learning or cooking with you. But ends up with you ushering him to sit down and you’ll be back with some fresh soup. He really does appreciate your presence, everything about you is so comforting and lively, so you making amazing food is an added bonus. Loves to learn about different foods from your world, even more so any type of pastry/sweet! Considers asking if you want to do a bake off, but decided not to, because he knew everyone would choose you. (he would do the same tbh)

⋆ If you didn’t have a magicam account dedicated to your cooking before, well now you do! Cater will take photos of every dish you made, going on a long rant on how this is the most delicious food he’s ever eaten. If you let him, he'll post pictures and videos of you cooking/baking on the account. The account is as comforting as your food. Ofc, he has tons and tons of photos and videos on his phone of you. Cater looks forwards to whatever you make, but is especially touched when you bake something that isn’t incredibly sweet or something entirely different then what you made the others. It makes him feel special.

⋆ Ace didn’t consider himself a picky eater, at least not until he ate your food! Boy will not leave you alone. He's constantly begging you to make him food and treats. Saying 'you just killed a poor starving boy, gootbye-' and just crashes onto you. Ace just really enjoys your cooking and he melts whenever you bring him food without him asking (begging). He’s the type of person to sit on the counter and talk while you’re busy doing things all around the kitchen. It briefly reminds him of his own childhood. It’s oddly domestic that it sikes him out for a moment. But then he glances at you and suddenly that feeling is replaced with a warm fluttering feeling in his chest. (don’t question the blush on his cheeks ofc)

⋆ Deuce isn’t one for taking photos but every thing you’ve ever made him has been instantly snapped and sent to his mom. (who loves knowing that her darling son is eating well) He’s not as obvious as Ace, but Deuce tries to slyly suggest that you make him more food. And of course, he’s more than willing to help. Again, unlike Ace who sits and talks, Deuce follows you around the kitchen like a duckling, patiently awaiting your orders. He wants to be helpful! Will gladly take anything out of the oven and carry any heavy materials. Will crash if you hold up a spoon for him to taste test. Isn’t this romantic? He asks himself as he shakily takes the spoon into his mouth. Omg, and if he sees you do your own taste test with the same spoon? Oh sevens, help you both.

Savanaclaw <3

⋆ Another group that doesn’t let you stop cooking/baking for them. But at least you have free access to a buttload of money and two very eager helpers (for very different reasons)

⋆ Leona isn’t a stranger to good, probably excellent, cooked meals. He’s a prince, duh. But when it’s a meal cooked by you? Everything that he’s eaten up til now is straight trash. Pride is one way to describe how he feels, quickly followed by smug. Of course, you’d dedicate your time and energy to cook him a meal. And of course, you poured your love into every step. He’ll eat practically anything you give him, though he will side eye the vegetables and discreetly give them to Ruggie. As for sweet things, he’s not a big fan of sweets. I feel like he’d like savory flavors, maybe a little bitter or maybe a little tart. Or perhaps something with subtle flavors but a hearty texture. I’m just speculating of course, so it’s always a hit or miss when it comes to baked goods with him. Though, don’t worry, nothing you make goes to waste. Ruggie is always ready to swoop in when needed. And as mentioned before, Leona knows ingredients can get spendy, so he’s more than willing to hand you his credit card.

⋆ Speaking of credit cards, Ruggie just always happens to be in the same vicinity when that black card hits your hands. Ruggie wouldn’t call himself the greatest chef, but he is resourceful. With everything you cook, Ruggie shows you how to get the most out of your ingredients. He even shows you some low-budget/free ingredients you can find all over campus and how to make it. Ruggie is honestly a good person to have by your side when it comes to cooking, you learn plenty of new things and you get to share your own knowledge to someone you know will share with others. However, Ruggie isn’t someone that does something for free. So he expects to be taking half of whatever you're making back with him. On a cuter note, Ruggie practically bursts into two when you show up with a container full of warm, mouth watering, doughnuts. Judging by how fast Ruggies tail was wagging, you were afraid that he was about to fly up into space.

⋆ Despite his tendencies to try to keep his emotions to himself, Jack really does appreciate the effort you put in to make his meals protein pack and nutritious. And while he’s not the greatest cook, Jack helps the best he can in the kitchen. Though, he’s a little clumsy (if his culinary crucible says otherwise, no it doesn’t) but he’s eager! Jack is a quick learner so it doesn't take him very long to get the hang of things. Definitely subtly brags about it to the other first years. But if any of them dares to mention how fast his tail is wagging, he gets all pouty with embarrassment. I definitely suggest keeping it to meals and not sweet. Jack is not a sweet guy at all. Though he might indulge if you give him puppy-dog eyes.

[sp0o0kylights]

Part Two / Part Three

Ao3

It's 8:45 am. 

The Red Barn, which is neither red nor a barn, has been open since 7, catering to the early morning crowd with rounds of coffee and pancakes.

It was no Benny's, but given the size of Hawkins and the lack of alternatives?

No one was complaining. 

They were all too happy someone had opened up another watering hole for the working class man (or lass, as Foreman Shelly will dutifully remind you) which meant the place was packed with both day and night shift regulars, passing each other in staggered waves. 

It also meant Wayne was sharing the packed breakfast counter with a warehouse worker by the name of John Cheese on one side and Police Chief Jim Hopper on the other.

He doesn't mind it.

Wayne's a man on a budget thinner than his shoelace, but he's also a man who understands that small indulgences need to be made in life or you didn't truly live it.

This is how he convinces himself to get a coffee at the Barn after work everyday, reading the morning newspaper and chatting with the other regulars before he heads home.

Bonus, it gets him out of the rapid-fire franticness that is his nephew in the mornings.

(All the love in the world wouldn't change the fact that all that Eddie came with a lot of noise. 

The kind of noise that was a tried and true recipe for a headache right after a long shift.)

As a trade off, Wayne went to bed early so he could wake up in time for dinner with Eddie.

 It was a nice little system that worked for them. 

A routine Wayne was reminiscing fondly on, when the pager on Chief Hopper started to chirp. With a sad moan, the man fished out a few crumbled bills and threw them on the counter, abandoning his coffee to trudge out to his truck.

This was not unusual.

Particularly recently, given they were but a scant few weeks past that whole mall ordeal. A fact all too easy to remember when one caught sight of the Chief’s still healing face. 

What was unusual, was when he came storming through the doors a minute later, face now a furious shade of red with his hat clenched in his hand. 

The energy in the room shifted, taking on something a little watchful as Hopper swept his gaze from side to side, like a dog on the hunt.

Judging by the way he stilled when he caught sight of Wayne, the latter assumed he found what he was looking for and could only pray it was the person behind him. 

(He liked John, but Wayne had enough trouble this year and he wasn't looking for any more.) 

"Munson." Hopper called, striding over and dashing all his hopes. There was a choked fury emitting off him, and given the way John audibly scooted his chair away, Wayne knew everyone had clocked it. 

"Chief." Wayne greeted, inclining his head towards him.

Idly he wondered what the hell his nephew had done this time.

'So help me if he stole all the town's lawn flamingos and put them in that damn teachers yard again….'

Wayne didn't even get to finish his threat, the Chief was already next to him. 

"Mind if I have a word outside?" 

Dammit Eddie.

"Ah hell, what's he done now?" Wayne asked with a sigh, eyeing the coffee he had left morosely. 

There was still almost half of it left and the pot had tasted fresh for once. 

"What?" Hopper said, and then Wayne got to watch as the man ran through an entire chain of thoughts, each one punctuated by things like; "Oh," and "No. " 

"This is something else." He finished, flushed and fidgeting, anger making him antsy. 

Wayne stared up at him. 

"Something else?" He repeated, not sure he heard.

"Yes, something else." Hopper snapped impatiently, before leaning forward, voice dropping low. "This doesn't involve your nephew, but we both know you owe me for how many times I've let that kid off, Wayne. That's a damn big favor I've been doing you and I'm calling it in." 

If it were any other cop, it'd sound like a threat.

It was Hopper though. The same Hopper who Wayne had gone to school with.

They'd never been friends exactly, but they had been friendly and remained so. Even now, after Wayne had taken Eddie in, who’d gone on to be an undeniable pain in the local PD’s ass. 

Hopper really did let the kid off easy. 

Wayne really did owe him. 

So he put down his coffee with a sigh, passed his newspaper over to John and stood up, motioning for Hopper to lead the way. Got into the Chief’s truck when he waved him in, and didn’t make a big fuss when Hopper tore out of the parking lot like hell was about to open up under them. 

"Not a lot of the kids involved in the mall fire could be identified, but a few of them were." Hopper started, which felt nonsensical given the utter lack of context. 

Wayne hummed to show he’d heard. 

“Some of them got banged up more than others, and a lot of people wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t make it.” 

A pause, Hopper white knuckling the steering wheel as he swung the truck hard around a turn. 

“For certain people, those kids dying is the preferred outcome.” 

A mix of fear and warning swopped low in Wayne’s gut. 

"Jim." Wayne said, dropping the use of a last name because if any situation called for it, it was this one. "What exactly are you saying here?" 

The Chief chewed on his split lip. 

"I know you're smart, Munson. I know you, and plenty of others are aware that something's happening, been happening in this town." 

Which was a hell of an understatement if you asked Wayne. Plenty of the upper classes might be able to bury their heads when it came to the military parading about and the flow of “accidents” they brought in their wake, but then, they didn't see all the other signs of trouble. 

The absolute oddity that was Starcourt’s construction. 

How it had been built using primarily outside crews and anyone who'd taken a singular look at the site could tell you they were building it weird. 

Weird as in it looked like it would have a multi-level basement, and not what a mall should have. 

Then there were the constant electrical problems. The backups upon backups that failed. The late night delivery vans headed out to the Hawkins Lab. 

The things in the woods that kept spooking all the deer and the weird markings they left behind that unnerved even the hardest of hunters. 

This didn’t even touch the Russian military that more than one reputable person swore was hanging around. 

The very same Wayne himself had seen, on more than one occasion. 

(And you couldn’t deny it; those boys were military. Past or present, it didn’t matter. They moved like a threat, and Wayne treated them like one, staying well clear.)

"Yeah." Wayne admitted. "I also know better than to stick my nose in it." 

"That makes you a smarter man than me.' Hop complained under his breath, but the anger was self directed. 

"The point is, there are some government types crawling around, doing shit they shouldn't be doing, and more than a few of them are in the business of making people disappear.” 

This was absolutely not where Wayne had thought this was going. 

Hopper took a breath. Than another.

A third.

It was starting to make Wayne nervous, in a way he hadn’t felt since a social worker had brought Eddie to him for the last time and final time. It was the feeling that things were about to shift in a way that would change the course of his life. 

"Steve Harrington is sitting in my office right now, beat to absolute shit.” Hopper admitted.

Wayne gave him the floor to talk, letting him go at his own pace without interruptions. 

“He's there because some of those government types finally figured out his parents are never fucking home.” 

Wayne sucked in a breath. 

"We both know his parents, Wayne. Harassing them to come back and take care of their kid won't work, and frankly, I’m beginning to think all the phone lines are tapped anyway.” He winced here, like voicing such a thing pained him, and Wayne understood.

It sounded a little too out there, a little like he was buying into a conspiracy. 

Except he wasn’t. Wayne knew he wasn’t. 

Jim Hopper might have been an alcoholic, a man living in pain and unconcerned with his own life, but if there was one thing he was solid for, it was shit like this.

He didn’t jump to conclusions. Didn’t believe the first thing people told him. Even at his worst, he did the work to see what was really happening, and made his decisions from there. 

(Even if that decision was to accept the occasional bribe, or drive an intoxicated 13 year old Eddie home instead of hauling his ass into the drunk tank.) 

“Harrington won’t admit it, but he’s got a hell of a concussion if not a full blown brain injury and he’s not reacting as well as he should to Suites trying to run him off the road.” Hopper continued. Angrily, he added, “Damn kid didn’t even come to me until they tried to break into his house last night.” 

His fingers squeezed the wheel so hard Wayne heard the leather creak in protest. 

“I’d take him, but my cabin is being renovated from…” He trailed off, heaving a sigh.

 “A storm, so me and my kid are bunked with the Byers right now and we’re full up.” 

Hawkins hadn't had a storm like that in years, but Wayne wasn't going to call him out on the blatant lie. 

“I need a place to stash him for the next few weeks, until I can work with some of the higher ups sniffing around, and get them to call off their attack dogs.” 

“And you want to stuff him with me.” Wayne finished. 

“I know you don’t have the room.” Hopper admitted easily, stopping his truck at a red light and locking eyes with the other man. “But I also know you’ll be the last place anyone would look for him.” 

'Ain’t that the damn truth.'

“You’re really gonna go this far for a Harrington?” Wayne asked, instead of the million of other questions leaping to the forefront of his mind. 

This one, he figured, was the most important. 

“He’s not his dad.” Hopper said, as firm as Wayne had ever heard him. “He’s not either of his parents, and he saved my little girl.” 

Wayne hadn’t even known Hopper had another little girl, but he also knew better than to ask where the guy had found one. 

It wasn’t his business, just as nothing else Jim was involved in, was his business.

Except, apparently, Steve Harrington. 

“I’m gonna need my own truck if I’m takin' Harrington home.” Wayne said easily, instead of bothering to ask anything else.

If Jim said the kid was different than his daddy, then he was--because when it came to things like that, Jim didn't lie.

No point in it. 

“I know. Just needed to talk to you first, without anyone overhearing.” Jim said, before swinging the police truck around and heading back to the Barn. 

“I’ll stay in contact with you, and I’ll make sure Harrington pays you for the pleasure of your hospitality. Just--” Here Jim cut himself off, looking like he was struggling an awful lot with the next thing he wanted to say. 

Once again, Wayne waited him out.

“Don’t let Steve fool you. He’s good at fooling people, letting them think he’s okay. Too good at it, and between the two of us, I have a real good idea of the reason why.” 

A memory came to Wayne unbidden, of Richard Harrington and Chet Hagan, beating some poor kid in the highschool bathroom bloody. The grins on their faces as the poor guy wailed for them to stop.

How they almost hadn’t. 

“Alright.” Wayne agreed.

Hopper swung back into the Barn's parking lot, and Wayne moved right to his own beat to shit truck, ready to follow Jim back to the police station.

He wasn’t a praying man, not anymore, but Catholisim wasn’t a thing that let you go easy. 

He found himself sending up a quick prayer, fingers flicking in a kind of miniature version of the sign of the cross. 

Considering his own kid’s history with Harrington, and the sheer small space of the trailer? 

Wayne had a feeling it was needed.

[robo-writing]

I saw your requests were open, so I have to ask for… pain 😔

Can I request a Logan x afab!reader HCs or full fic about how reader is getting older and he kinda isn’t yk? Like going from when they first met, to readers deathbed, and how he has to live without them for the rest of his life 🫶🫶

Also take care of yourself DRINK WATER 🥰

Oh yeah, it’s angst time.

It's sooner than later that you'll be alone Synopsis: You live a long life, but not as long as Logan's. Warnings: 3.2k words of gut-wrenching angst, mentions of blood, grieving someone after they're gone Author's note: Hope you're happy anon, I cried five times writing this <3

He had first met you in your twenties—twenty-three, to be exact.

Young, bright eyed, naive. You were kind, where he was not. You were hopeful, where he was jaded and angry at the world. He loved your innocence, how you always saw the best in others—suppose that’s what made you such a good counselor to the children. You listened—really, truly listened—made anyone that walked through your office doors feel welcomed.

Maybe that’s why he found his way to you. When the nightmares wouldn’t let him sleep and the voices wouldn’t let him think, he shuffled to your bedroom door without a goal in sight, bare feet padding against the polished floors. His knuckles meet your door, seconds passing by before he asks himself why the hell he’s even here in the first place.

Before he could walk away he heard your feet shuffling, followed by the click of your doorknob.

He felt guilty for waking you up, eyes red and face puffy, but you didn’t even question why he was at your door, just rubbed your eyes and opened the door wider for him to walk in.

It was silent at first. You offered him some water, passed him a blanket, and just sat there. You never pressured him to speak, and he didn’t feel compelled to. Maybe five minutes later he said something and you just nodded in his direction, encouraging him to continue.

For the first time in a long time, he talked. And you listened.

It became a ritual between the two of you, staying up late at night just to chat. It wasn’t always about his past, sometimes he just needed to let it all out, and you were the perfect outlet. He felt like you didn’t judge him, and that’s all he ever needed.

Eventually he wanted to hear you too—he preferred it that way. Talking about lesson plans and movies, little things that seem mundane but made him feel less like a patient and more like a friend. You were a welcome distraction, and an added bonus was that you were really cute when you were talking.

He was the one who made the first move. He remembers every detail, from your pajama shorts to the over-worn tank top sliding off your shoulder, your eyes bright as you went on about a new baking recipe you wanted to try. Sat on your bed, looking so relaxed he couldn’t help but stare and marvel at your beauty.

“Logan?” You ask, waving your hand in his face. “Hello? Earth to Wolverine?”

The moment you called out his name he was already making his way to your bed. The mattress sinks beneath his weight, and you let out a soft noise of surprise before he plants his lips against yours.

Yours are soft compared to him—everything about you screams softness, innocence and purity, and he’s not sure if a man like him even has the right to be next to you, much less kiss you. He’s certain his soul is filthy, tainted—a layer of black that’s sure to muck up your own if he keeps this up. He knows this deep in his heart, but greedy man that he is, he keeps his lips locked to yours.

Once, and then never again. He can’t be with a girl like you, and he knows it.

You hold him by the neck and pull him back when he tries to leave your embrace. Maybe it’s pity, he thinks, the way your hands tug him by the shirt and cling onto the fabric. Maybe you’re only entertaining him, stringing him along just to laugh in his face, mock him into ever thinking he had a chance. If you are, he doesn't care, because at least now he’s got a taste of what he could never have.

The two of you finally separate, a silk-thread of spit connecting the both of you, looking at each other with a mixture of shock and confusion. What happens after this? How does he return to what you had before—how can he, when he now knows your chapstick tastes like cherries?

He makes a move to leave, but against all odds your hand is still clinging onto his shirt. In that moment he knew he was the luckiest man alive because you begged him to stay in that cute voice of yours, begged him not to leave when his hands made their way up the front of your shirt—begged him for more when his lips wandered lower.

By your thirties you already had a shiny ring on your finger, one that he can say he proudly put on your finger. A gold band adorned by diamonds, it shines in the orange light of the sun, staring at you from its red-velvet housing. 

It’s the first time the X-Men see him cry, tears running down his face when you run into his arms screaming yes, yes, over and over as he holds you in his arms, sunset illuminating your features. He always thinks of you as beauty personified, but watching you admire the diamond-studded band with awe—the one thing that signifies you as his—he can’t help but look at you like icarus does to the sun.

The wedding was small—neither of you minded. Hank was the ringbearer, and Charles walked you down the aisle, and when your vows were said and done the priest could barely finish the ceremony before Logan lunged forward and kissed you, dipping you at the altar accompanied with a cheer from the people you consider your family.

Scott has the video saved on his phone. He pretends it pisses him off, but he had Jean send him a copy later. Sometimes he watches it when he thinks you’re asleep, but little does he know you are very much awake.

In your fourties’ you have a house together, somewhere upstate where no one can bother you. A cozy wooden home where it’s just you and him, relaxing by the fireplace and watching tv every day. When he’s not helping the X-Men he works at a local lumber yard, the highlight of his day being when he comes to work, grabbing his equipment from the truck. 

His co-workers jeer at him every time, call him whipped like butter, but they wouldn’t understand what he feels. He certainly doesn’t seem to care, especially when it’s your kiss pressed to his cheek.

He can safely say his life is perfect. It’s domestic, it’s everything Logan ever dreamed of, everything he thought he could never have—and it’s all thanks to you. He wakes up every morning grateful to you for giving him the greatest gift he could ever receive: serenity. 

Between the fairytale ending and his rose-colored glasses, he doesn’t notice it, not until you’re in your fifties and he’s—he’s not.

You’re aging, and he’s staying the same.

You still love each other and he’d never, ever, think about leaving you, but the realization sticks with him. He thinks about it late at night while you sleep next to him, pressed against his side. Your scent, your touch, he memorizes it all because he doesn’t know when he won’t be able to feel it again.

In your heart you know it too, but you don’t say anything—you don’t want to scare him away. He’s only just begun to get used to normalcy, and you don’t want to take that away from him. You don’t want to watch him fall into the honeyed trap of isolation again, return to that shell of a man you only just helped him shed.

So when you’re watching tv together, he makes sure to cradle you to his chest extra tight. When you’re sitting by the fireplace, heat radiating off your skin, he makes sure to memorize the way the fire illuminates your face. When you’re whispering his name after a night of love-making he etches the sound deep into his synapses, memorizing each syllable.

No matter what, he’ll remember you.

By your sixties you’re faced with an awful truth, one neither of you want to admit but your smile lines and crows feet stand contrast to his barely aging face. You get stares when you mention he’s your husband, some curious, some judging. You were called a cougar once by a shopper, finger pointed accusatory while Logan told her in no uncertain terms to go fuck herself.

He was there to reassure you then, but he can’t be there all the time. You don’t tell him that this wasn’t the first time you were accused of being a predator, and you don’t plan on doing so. 

Maybe this counts as acceptance, faced with the truth in the worst kind of way, but at least the both of you can say it out loud now—

You’re going to die, and he’s going to outlive you. It’s just a fact, but it still makes the both of you terrified.

Your seventies are rocky—you want to enjoy the time you have left, but Logan wants to make sure you’re safe. In his eyes you know he has only love for you, but you can see the fear in them too, how he coddles you every day. Your bones are starting to ache, you’re getting slower. Where you used to go on hikes with him you now choose to stay home, your stamina not like what it used to be. He thinks you don’t notice how he watches you carefully around the house, how he’s so eager to help you. You’re flattered, but also annoyed—it’s a short-lived train of thought when you look at him.

He still looks at you like he did when you first kissed. 

He still loves you, and you still love him. For now, that’s all you need.

He finds you on the floor in your eighties—eighty-three, to be exact.

The moment he sees your resting form behind the counter he sprints into the kitchen. There’s broken glass, a trail of blood running from your temple, and you’re completely out of it, eyes closed shut. He calls your name, shakes you, but nothing. He knows you’re still alive, he can hear your heart beating but he can feel how weak it is under his clammy hands, the soft thump nowhere near as strong as it should be.

He doesn’t know what to do—he’s long since been familiar with blood but this time it’s you, and he’s panicking. He doesn’t know what to do.

The ambulance arrives, longer than usual because you live far away from the city. Maybe if they’d gotten there faster they would have been able to do an infusion. Maybe if the phone wasn’t so far you’d be able to call 9-1-1 before you passed out. Maybe if he was at home he would’ve been able to see the early signs—

“Sir? Are you alright?”

He looks at the clock on the bedside wall: 7:38 pm. 

It’s well into the night, five hours have passed since you were admitted, and an hour since you died.

He’s been staring at your body for who knows how long. The doctor pronounced you dead, said you had a heart attack and hit your head on the way down. An accident.

A fucking accident.

“Sir, was she related to you?” The young nurse asks, contemplating whether or not she should even speak. Wordlessly, he nods.

“I understand you’re grieving,” she continues, standing at his side. Her words are full of empathy, none of which he needs but lets her speak anyway. “I saw on your hospital logs you share the same name, I can’t imagine how it must feel to lose a loved one.”

He nods again.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how old was she?”

“…eighty-three.” He answers. “Her birthday was in a month.”

She shakes her head. “That’s a shame.”

“It sure is,” He says, reaching out to touch her hand. It’s cold to the touch, a cruel reminder. “It sure is.”

You would’ve been eighty-four now.

He still lives in the same house but it’s not the same without you. It’s lifeless, empty—all the love you poured into the decor now just an awful reminder of what he lost. He thinks about tearing it all down sometimes but he knows you’d probably kick his ass if he so much as touched your crystal vases.

Your side of the bedroom is untouched, he moved all his stuff to the separate one the week after you died. It hurts to sleep there knowing you’re gone, but sometimes he’ll sit by the nightstand, a drink in hand and stare at the empty spot where you would be. Sometimes if he stares hard enough, he can see you through tear-rimmed eyes, hear your laughter through the dull buzz of the alcohol.

He misses you. He’s not sure if he’ll ever stop.

He doesn’t know what possesses him, but he opens your closet. It’s an indulgence, a moment of weakness—he promised he wouldn’t touch your stuff and here he is, rummaging about. 

Coats, dresses, shirts, all memories flooding back to him as he moves past them. The black dress you wore on your first date, the sundress you wore for your anniversary—

When his fingers brush against the lace, his heart lurches. He doesn’t need to see it to know, but he tugs anyway, revealing your wedding dress hidden deep inside. The most beautiful thing you’ve ever worn.

He takes the gown between reverent hands, as if the fabric would fall apart, disintegrate if he was anything but cautious with it. It still smells like you.

He finds the box labeled “wedding” next to it, and without hesitation pulls it from its corner. Wedding invites, flowers, old videos, everything that you could have taken as a memory, you had it. You even kept the cake toppers.

What surprises him though, is a notebook. It’s tiny, leather bound and slightly worn, every page a new entry. He flips to the first page and his heart nearly stops.

Dear Logan,

If you’re reading this, I’m probably dead.

His eyes widened. When did you write this? The small book suddenly feels like lead in his hands, it’s a struggle to pull his eyes back to the ink-stained pages, but he does so anyway.

I hope I managed to give this to you before I pass. I wish I could explain to you how much I love you, and how much I worry about you. You’re a stubborn asshole, could never see the good in yourself but I did—I still do. I’ve known you for thirty years now so I’m willing to bet you’re probably reading this drunk, blaming yourself for my death.

He doesn’t know when he started crying but your words make him laugh through the pain, wiping the palm of his hand against his cheek. He used to say you were secretly a telepath, always able to read his mind. Seems it’s a talent that extends beyond the grave.

Anyway, rambling aside, I wanted to give you something to remember me by. You’re going to live longer than I am, we both know that: but maybe my memory can live along with you.

His hands are shaking, fingers stumbling through the next page with bated breath.

Entry one, not sure how I should start…I’ll figure it out later. Your beard grew out a little so I offered to help you shave…

I think I did a shit job but you didn’t seem to mind, or maybe you were trying to save my feelings? I don't know which one. In any case remember to take care of yourself, I might be gone but like hell if I’m gonna let you let yourself go!

Attached with a paperclip is a photo of the two of you in the bathroom, you smushing his face while he stares at the camera annoyed, or at least it seems. There’s a hint of a smile on his face.

He remembers that day. You were cuddling him and complained his beard was scratchy. He let you sit on his lap while you gave him a trim, you said your lines were crooked but he didn’t give a shit—he had you all to himself, and that’s all he needed.

A small huff of laughter escapes him, even in the afterlife you’re still bossing him around. He flips to the next page—

Entry two, don’t isolate yourself! I know you Logan, that lone wolf shit doesn’t work and you know it too! When’s the last time you talked to the other X-Men, huh?

Your words rattle in his head, feelings of guilt blooming. They call occasionally, but he never picks up. Charles is the only one he ever gave the time of day and even then the mention of your passing is a sore subject. One time Scott showed up at his house, helped him clean up a bit before leaving; he never said thank you.

His eyes flick to the phone on his nightstand before continuing to read. 

Entry three, don’t starve yourself! I left a couple of my recipes in the last pages, just in case you missed my cooking…

Entry four, I have a secret album of us on my phone. The password is…

Entry five, stop being so hard on yourself…

Entry after entry, all stories with advice for when you’re gone. Clean up after himself, don’t try to find peace at the bottom of a bottle, remember to find a hobby…every single page, accompanied by a description of what you did that day. Went hiking, went on a dinner date, stayed at home and watched tv—almost an entire year's worth of reminiscing in the form of a tiny brown journal.

By the time he got to the last one the sun had begun to rise. His eyes burned with exhaustion, but the thought of stopping never crossed his mind.

The big three-six-five, happy anniversary! It’s been a year since I started this project and I think I should end it here, so I’ll end it with the best advice I can give you.

Logan, you need to move on.

I know it hurts, but I’m gone, and you can’t spend your life chasing after a woman who isn’t here anymore. You deserve more in life than to grieve. I love you more than anything in the world, which is why I’m telling you it’s okay to move on.

I’ll always be with you, so don’t think that you need to feel guilty. I know you love me, and I love you.

I’m giving you permission to forgive yourself, and let me go.

He re-reads your words. Once, twice, even three times before they really sink in. I’m giving you permission to forgive yourself, and let me go.

At that moment it all comes crashing down on him. Your death, the funeral, the pain and longing, the grief—all of it. Everything he’d ever tried to push aside by drinking, culminating into this single release of emotion.

He cries. A full-bodied, pathetic display, he sobbed while holding your last memory to his chest until he was red in the face, until his lungs burned. He sobbed until he had no more tears to give, then sobbed some more.

Even in death, you were still listening.

[nataliedecorsair]

In contrast to the gloomy and mysterious world of Heather, Pticenoga and Vaughn’s AU is pretty cheerful and full of nonsense. This is the world of Borderlands, and therefore it is reckless, sometimes dark, but nevertheless very alive. The tone of the art with them, respectively, differs from the tone of the art with Heather. And, since this is an AU (means alternative universe), some moments from the canonical Borderlands were changed. For example, the third Borderlands game and everything related to it doesn’t exist here. Also I should remind you that Pticenoga is my OC way from 2011 and she had nothing to do with the game originally, and I created the Borderlands AU for her several years later.

In this universe, Pticenoga (or Hedwig, or Yadwiga - that's her name; Pticenoga is more like a nickname) is a "messed up" siren who, even before her birth, was influenced by natural Eridium, and as a result her "siren power" went out of control. Normal sirens sometimes have "magical wings" - Hedwig was born straight up looking like a bird, with all the accompanying pros and cons. Shade, her adoptive father, found it pretty amusing and liked it a lot, but most of the other people weren’t that impressed. And, given the fact that the closest bird to her would be a vulture, her behavior did not contribute to her popularity in society. But time passed, she grew up - and Hedwig learned to more or less control her siren powers and she could transform into an ordinary woman. But in this form she loses all the advantages of Pticenoga: she cannot fly, loses her strength and endurance, loses resistance to fire damage, and so on. But she can merge with the crowd now, if it’s necessary. All in all, Hedwig is a woman with a bit of bells and whistles... After all, this is the world of Borderlands. For example,  she can smear herself with rotten corpses to use the stench as a weapon. Or  in the heat of a battle, she can bite off an enemy's finger, devour it, and ask for more. But in a sense, this craziness is partially the reason why her relationship with Vaughn was developed.

A portion of passion, a portion of humor and a pinch of trash with raw meat - it’s pretty much the recipe for the pairing between Pticenoga and Vaughn. He is a former corporate accountant learning to survive on the wild planet of Pandora; she is a bit of a deranged, "wild" siren, ready to protect her loved ones and punch enemies in the face (not always successful, but nonetheless). After arriving on Pandora, Vaughn discovered his love for crazy stuff  and was happy to occasionally let loose his suppressed aggressive side - and Pticenoga is happy to help him with this. But sometimes she is also happy to "calm down" and feel normal, and Vaughn doesn't mind showing her that side of life. Of course, their shenanigans do not always end well, and the "loser" side of Vaughn didn't go anywhere, just like Hedwig's instability. But they are ready to support each other, no matter what. Even if this support sometimes takes strange forms (for example, Vaughn can gather corpses for her if necessary...). Or, as a bonus, Pticenoga can sometimes troll Vaughn a little. But he does not mind; he answers her the same way… when he can. --- Also, I was messing around with GBA sims thing and you can see the result in the end xD --- Almost all interactions are based on me & my husband’s shenanigans The engagement ring was also Borderlands themed

[toxicanonymity]

Stepdad Joel Masterlist

Main story complete.

SUMMARY: Reader does not live at home. Joel married her mom when she was a teen. Now in her 20s, she catches Joel jerking off to her insta and starts toying with him. He tries to resist. No y/n. WARNINGS: I8+ Stepcest, pining, angst, jacking off, voyeurism, mutual masturbation, fingering, mutual touching, degradation (both ways), grinding, oral (both ways), cheating, unsafe P in V, loads of cum, possessive!Joel. See chapter-specific.

⭐ LATEST: the downward spiral (3k)

Smut every chapter.

App Store (Main story - complete)

Instagram (1.1k)- You come by unannounced, catch Joel jacking off, and get him to finish while you touch yourself.

Snapchat (1.1k)- You send sexy snapchats to Joel and bait him into touching you.

Halloween drabble (500) - Help with tie

Uber (1.2k)- You call Joel instead of a ride share and tempt and touch him on the way home.

All Recipes (1.4k)- You bait Joel into touching you while he's cooking for Thanksgiving.

Fandango (2.1k)- After a tense Thanksgiving dinner, you get frisky in a movie and at your apt.

Tinder (3.5k) - Joel does something upsetting and you bring a date home. His state of mind.

Amazon (2.7k) - Joel is sad and horny and snapchats you a lot while you ignore him. Bonus Snapchats! | more bonus snaps

Ring Doorbell (5.4k) - Joel holds it together at a party, only to show up at your apartment later.

Clock (1.7k) - the morning after the big night, you stay in bed.

Record Store (one shots)

Present day (6k)

it's hard by the Who (3k)

✨the downward spiral by NIN (3k)

Flashbacks

the wall (1.5k) by Pink Floyd

Other

lore from when they first met

Another bonus (what if)

NOT Canon

3k words

hypothetically bailing him out (1k)

Hypothetically baiting him

Cucking him with another Joel (700)

Alternate timeline to Uber (700)

Your Art, etc. 💚

Joel portrait by @bonezone44

reader-curated spotify playlist

HIS BITMOJI

stepdad!Joel meme roundup by various

Think about you gif by @iamasaddie

Pussy worth it board by @iamasaddie

Stepdad's moods by @milla-frenchy

people change collage by @iamasaddie

hands by @noxturnalpascal

Shoutout to @megangovier for the request that became Insta. 🖤

[atierrorian]

Could I request Ace, Azul, Leona, and Jamil (the tsunderes) getting a stunning, Magicam-worthy dessert from their s/o after the boys get jelly (heh) that she's always giving their dorm mates tasty and cute sweets or desserts she made?

Ace would 100% whine, just sayin'

I 101% agree with you on that last line. And I am so sorry for not doing this sooner! And once again, apologies if they're ooc.

TW: Ooc, slight suggestive on Leona's part, slight mentions of insecurity, a bit longer on Jamil's part, mentions of jealousy

WORD COUNT: 247

• So it all started when you baked some goodies and decided to give them to one of the members of Heartslabyul since they weren't allowed desserts. (You felt bad) • And since Ace wasn't there (Trying to avoid Riddle, again), you gave all of the baked goods to a good half of the Heartslabyul. • It continued like that for quite some time, and surprisingly, Riddle was unaware of you giving sweets to his dorm members. (And you hoped it would stay that way) • Now how did Ace find out about this? Simple, from Deuce telling him that you were giving out desserts to half of the Heartslabyul. And Ace being Ace, became really slightly jealous and pouty and whiny, which is not a good combo. • Ace practically barged in on you baking more sweets and confronted you. Whining and complaining about why you didn't give him any desserts too :( • So as compensation, you gave him a stunning and tasty treat, way more than what you gave Heartslabyul that's for sure. • Ace forgave you and teased you for making him such a wondrous dessert. • The two of you shared the dessert and had good laughs here and there, teasing him for being jealous, etc, etc. • At least it ended up not being so bad, huh?

• BONUS: Riddle found out about the baked goods, safe to say it did not end well for you or half of the Heartslabyul.

WORD COUNT: 334

• The Mostro Lounge is good and all, but you felt something was amiss, to say the least. And you realized that there were barely any desserts in the Mostro Lounge! (There were just a few) And you had a new recipe you wanted to try out so… • And it was so delicious that most students only came into the Mostro Lounge for your cute and tasty treats! And since you made extras, you gave them to the students. (Not for free though) • Now, Azul found out due to all the whispers of the students because they can't keep their mouths shut. And to say the least, he's surprised he hasn't found out about it sooner. • Although Azul is glad that more people are coming to the Mostro Lounge; he gets jealous because those grubby students keep flocking you and he can't seem to talk to you with all the people hoarding you. • Jade and Floyd(Mostly Floyd) TEASES Azul for his jealousy and Azul not wanting to break his reputation, denies it because he's still trying to up his facade but he knows deep down that it's true. And Azul can't help but feel a bit insecure… • You felt Azul's stare and immediately knew what he was feeling. So you excused yourself and went over to him and comforted him and told him that you promise you'll make even more tasty and cute treats for him. • Happy octopus noises! • Azul is somewhat hesitant to eat due to his past, but you tell him that it's alright and you promise that it's really really good! Azul agrees and he can't help but feel slightly embarrassed because he was jealous for nothing. • You both continue eating and you saved some for both Floyd and Jade. (Floyd almost ate Jade's treats because he loves them so much)

• BONUS: All your tasty baked goods and desserts are on the menu, except for the one you and he ate together.

WORD COUNT: 303

• If Leona has to be honest, he kinda doesn't really care that much you were giving out free desserts to his Dorm members. I mean, you do whatever you want and he'll respect that. • However, seeing some of them being way too close then they should made him slightly jealous.. • He acts like he isn't affected by it, but the glares he sends in their direction and the flattened ears alongside the tail swishing back and forth give it away. (Ruggie teases him for it) • If it gets too much, he'll gladly drag you away from that student and make you his pillow for the rest of the day. He prefers lazing around with you! (You'll get in trouble the next day for not attending, but who cares?) • You know Leona is jealous just by his behavior, so, to make it up to him; you baked him goodies, a lot tastier than what you normally give out that's for sure. • Leona smirks when you present your cute delicious sweets to him. Your baking never cease to amaze him, however, he does think you taste tastier though wink wink. • After you two shared the treat, he immediately dragged you to his room and forced you to act like his pillow, again. But hey, at least you got to see a content smile on his face. • Ever since then, Leona has been a bit more protective than usual. Most of his dorm members backed off since you weren't handing out that much sweets as much as you did before. Just on some occasions. • Leona loves your treats, but he definitely prefers you as his pillow.

• BONUS: Ruggie is sad that he'll get less desserts from you ever since Leona told you to tone it down.

WORD COUNT: 364

• He is currently in a dilemma with this. On one hand, he doesn't want to admit he is jealous; on the other hand, he's possessive and it's more obvious after his Overblot. • But, he hides it really well and offers to help you. He sees it as a way of bonding with you even more and giving each other tips on each other's recipes. • When you hand out your treats and desserts, he will be watching from behind you and make sure the members of Scarabia don't do anything dumb. (All they have to do is say thank you and that's it) • He is fighting his inner demons when Kalim comes into the picture and asks you for your goodies as well. Of course, you can't decline Kalim's request so you give it to him while Jamil is slightly fuming... • Don't worry, he gets over it eventually and accepts this is reality now. (But that doesn't mean his jealousy diminishes every time) • He thinks he's quite good at hiding what he truthfully feels, even from you. However you have noticed lately that Jamil has been in a sulking mood lately, so why not surprise him by making him a top notch dessert and alone quality time? • Jamil suspected something was going on with you since you were pretty secretive of your motives. Everytime he asked what you were doing, you'd simply dismiss his suspicions and tell him that it's nothing at all and that he doesn't have to worry about it! (It increases even more when you tell him this) • After your hard work of preparing everything and making sure it was perfect, you'd waited for Jamil to be finished with his duties so both of you could relax and spend time with each other. You were pretty excited because you had made a special treat just for him! • Once Jamil was out of his duties, you'd immediately dragged him to the kitchen where you prepared your best ever cute treat just for him! And safe to say, you both enjoyed it together!

•BONUS: Jamil internally celebrates that he finally is number 1 for someone.

YAYA! I'm finally finished!! This has been in my drafts for the longest time and I'm glad I got to do this request!

[aquasarsstuff]

Valentines Day gone wrong, ft. Lilia Vanrouge x gn!reader

Author's note: I feel like there's not much Lilia fic or I literally just read all them. Anyway, content for me to satiate my simping self because he came home 3x when I pulled for him on the stitch event banner. (This more like me trying to revive my passion in writing after moving on from my cringe writing phase.

If there were any word you would use to describe Lilia Vanrouge, a 3rd year from Diasomnia, he would be close to eccentric. His reactions to things were unpredictable, though that was the reason why your troubles has lessen this past few days. He would randomly appear randomly or sometimes when chaos was about to ensue between your first year friend. While you were anxious of the tension, Lilia just smiles, amuse at the situation and doesn't even seem bothered about it. Nevertheless, before he even leaves, he gives you advices, though some of it were questionable, parts of it we're pretty helpful when it comes to handling Grim and the Adeuce duo. And here you are troubled with another thing.

You've heard of a festivity celebrated here in Twisted Wonderland while Rook was busy rambling about Vil. It was called Valentines Day. You only have a pretty limited information about it, but all you knew is it's about giving gift as a form of gratitude. You already have gifts in mind to give to your friends, and since you have gotten pretty close to Lilia, you've been thinking of also giving him a gift.

---

Well, this shouldn't be hard at all. You know Lilia's love for sweets so you decided to pick a box of chocolate for him from Sam's shop. It was wrap neatly in a red cloth with a golden ribbon. Holding it close to your chest, you silently recite the words you'll tell him when you give this to him, but looks like you don't need to do that.

You almost smack yourself to the ground when Lilia appeared infront of you, hanging upside-down on a branch of a tree around campus. He laughs at your reaction, as usual, though it morphs into a smirk after seeing the parcel in your hand. You gulped hard at seeing that expression, out of all the time he has to make that face, does it really have to be now. You suddenly feel embarrassment creep up your face.

"Having trouble finding someone? I can help with that," He says before jumping down and properly facing you. "Or just uncertain about the gift? I have a lot of recipes in mind-"

Your mind turned into utter horror after hearing his next words. You've already heard of his infamous reputation so you already stop him. "No. I," You sighed.

"I was looking for you."

"Ohoho? May I inquire why?"

"This is for you," You handed him the gift as calmly as you could. His eyes slightly widen. Those crimson doe eyes look at you unblinking that it was almost adorable if it weren't for the fact that his face was morphing to that one every time he starts to tease you for something.

"This is my gratitude for last week, Lilia. If it weren't for you I would probably get another earful from the Headmaster. When you are with me, It's like the world is painted in vibrant colors. Happy Valentines day, Lilia. I hope you like my gift for you." You walk away from him before he could say another word. When he was already out of sight, you ran to your next class while covering your face. When you reach your seat, your friends huddled around you like bees. Seeing your flustered face, you were bombarded with questions about being sick.

"Im fine guys, really," you said, brushing off all of their words. Your friends however didn't believe the reassurance you gave them, but stop pestering you after Trein entered the room. It was only then that you notice how strong and fast your heartbeat was. You probably shouldn't have run that long earlier, under the heat of the sun.

___

Bonus:

Later that night, Malleus came to visit and he bluntly ask about the gift you have given Lilia. Apparently, the mischievous bat has been bragging it to his sons. You sighed, before remembering that you have also prepared a gift for him. You ask Malleus to stay outside for moment. When you handed him the gift, he was silent.

Malleus: Prefect tell me, do you really understand what this day means?

You then proceed to tell him what you know. Instantly, it clicks to Malleus and he laughs whole heartedly.

Safe to say, you tried to avoid Lilia for the whole week. (keyword: tried)

-----

I dedicate my 2nd fic to @hanafubukki. Hi, I'm a big fan of you and Lilia ehe. Okay, but no way I'm reading this again. The idea was delicious, but after writing it, my perfectionist self just decide to possess me and now its cringe. Btw to all my readers, I hope you enjoy this.

[sleepyorchidmonster]

While I'm curious about the other's dreams in Book 7, a part of me is mostly looking forward to overall shenanigans with the Dream Team and their assigned overblot buddies!

Especially since it looks like we're revisiting past twstunes.

-Jamil and Octavinelle is always funny AND a recipe for disaster;

-I can already hear Azul complaining about Savanaclaw's weather, not to mention his overall lack of stamina and how Book 2's twstunes are all either chase sequences or Magift;

-Leona painting the roses. Or helping bake a tart. He can't even escape because then dream Riddle and Sebek will team up and yell at him.

(More rambling under the cut)

Really hoping the Heartslabyul dream sequence is just extra chaotic. Maybe everyone already knows it's a dream, maybe the blot becomes even more dangerous. Maybe Malleus makes an appearance.

Part of me wants Cater to get a new card. I love Trey, but people often forget that Cater is also an important friend of Riddle's, so getting him to be the one to snap Riddle out of the dream would be great!

Maybe we can get cards for Trey AND Cater (maybe Chen'ya too), since both Tweels are getting cards...

Also I need Deuce's sequence to be Rabbit Fest again. We already have outfits for both Silver, Ortho and Grim, so we only need ones for Leona, Sebek and Ace (and even then Sebek and Silver often wear matching outfits,so you really only have to think about Leona and Ace). Idia's tablet also gets a ribbon. There's also a gang fight.

I just need Leona to have the worst time possible in Heartslabyul dreams.

Bonus:

Ortho, after we finish Savanaclaw's dream sequence: Alright, now it's time for our next dream! And you know what that means!

Silver: Only one more dorm before we face Lord Malleus again?

Sebek: We have to deal with Ace now?

Idia: I can't handle Mr. Zero EQ (A.K.A Riddle), Extrovert Extraordinaire (A.K.A Cater) and TREY in the same dream?

Yuu and Grim, holding baseball bats: We can FINALLY punch Riddle's abusive mom in the face?

Everyone: ...

Jack: I'm sure she's not that bad...

Yuu: She is the OG Red Tyrant.

Grim: Who yelled at Trey's parents for 5 HOURS because they gave her kid a SLICE of a strawberry tart! WHO DOES THAT?!?!

Leona: Welp, that explains a LOT...

[rendy-a]

Sorry, househusband Headcanons with Silver 👉👈✨💕(sorry the first questiom accidentally sent incomplete ) 👍

Ha ha ha. That first request would have been enough. Househusband Silver? Say no more. I'm with you there!

You have to keep an eye on him when he does chores to watch out for advice he picked up from your father-in-law.  Lilia passed on some of the strangest housekeeping habits to Silver and you never know when they’ll pop up.  You remember the winter that both of you were sick at the same time and Silver made an actual bathtub full of soup because that was the correct amount advised by Father. 

You do all the cooking prep together.  It’s not that you don’t like Silver’s cooking (even he knows to avoid using Lilia’s recipes), it’s just that you worry too much about his safety in the kitchen.  There have been some close calls where Silver has fallen asleep with a hot stove on or holding a knife.  Now, you have little dinner-prep dates to cook up meals for the week.  Each finished dish is one your spouse can finish off in the microwave or by setting a timer on a kitchen appliance.  It’s not foolproof but you certainly worry less.  Seeing Silver in an apron is just an added bonus!

You never thought you’d say this, but small forest animals are your back-up plan.  It’s like nature itself has decided to help your husband escape danger and accomplish his goals.  You’ve literally seen mice help him sew up a rip in your clothes and a deer pull your sleeping spouse out of the street.  You are grateful that Silver is so beloved by the animals, or you don’t know how you’d bare to leave him home without you!

You were sitting at your desk hard at work when suddenly a chill runs down your spine.  You look at the clock, there are three more hours of work left in the day.  You frown and decide to quickly check your phone messages, just in case.  When you pull the device out and look, your heart drops when you see the message, [Father is here for a visit.]  Oh dear, your famous Father-in-law is alone with your spouse, and you can’t do anything about it. 

You quietly take your phone and sneak away to the parking lot for a quick call.  It rings several times with no answer.  You hang up and try again.  This time, you get a sleepy, “Hello,” at the fourth ring.  You smile at the sound, picturing your spouse just awoken from a short sleeping spell.  “Hi dearest, I got your message.  How are things going?”  There is the smallest hint of a smile in the tone that replies, though you know he is stoic as ever on the other side.  “Father is helping me clean out the attic.  It’s going along well.  We’ve got everything moved out and into our living room now.”  You look out into the distance.  All the dusty things hidden away in the attic are now all over your clean living room.  Well, it could be worse.

You force an extra amount of cheer into your voice, “That’s great honey, and you are keeping an eye on him?  Making sure he…doesn’t work too hard?”  Silver assures you that he only fell asleep for a moment, but that Lilia was back where he expected him to be.  You feel a sense of dread, “Silver, it is nearly lunch time.  He hasn’t been cooking, has he?  Did you check?”  There is a long pause before Silver mutters, “I better go.”  You wish him the best of luck and disconnect.  Then, you gaze at your phone for a moment before dialing the nearest pizza delivery place.  Better safe than sorry.

A few hours later, you sneak away to the restroom to text your spouse.  [How are things?]  You wait quietly in the stall until you get a reply.  [Do you think we need to put a bedroom in the attic?]  You look at your phone in surprise, this conversation is already veering wildly from what you anticipated.  [Why would we do that?]  You see the dots appear and wait for your hubby’s text.  [In case we need to use the spare room for a nursery.]  You sigh and roll your eyes, Lilia again.  [We can talk about it when I get home.  Agree to nothing!!!]

After work, your thoughts turn immediately to your spouse, and you head straight home.  You see your house come into view and your sleepy husband is waiting for you at the door with his eyes shut.  You climb the stairs and give him a sweet kiss.  His eyes flutter open and he smiles at you, “I had a wonderful dream and now here you are.”  You brush a strand of his silver hair from his forehead, “Which was better?”  He looks at you with seriousness and replies, “You.  You are always better.”  You turn your head to the side, feeling the heat in your cheeks.

“Ahem,” you clear your throat, “So where is our precious Father?”  Silver drops back until he is only holding your hand, “He left.  He said we needed time alone to work on his grandchildren.”  You laugh and think that sounds very much like your spirited Father-in-Law.  You rub your thumb along the fingers holding your hand, “Well, since he is gone, I suppose its safe to ask about your day.  How did the attic cleaning project go?”  Silver calmly assures you that things went just fine.  Nearby, a squirrel looks up and meets your eye before giving you the most traumatized shake of its little head.  “I’m glad everything worked out,” you say as you make eyes that say ‘I’m sorry’ to the neighborhood wildlife.  You didn’t know what trouble he’d been involved in, but you knew some evil had been conquered today.  You squeeze Silver’s hand and that prompts him to lift you into his arms and carry you over the threshold.  It wasn’t happily ever after, but for today, it was enough of a happy ending for you and your prince charming.

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Akashi Takeomi - "Late Night Lovin'"

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

In which a certain Bonten executive comes home quite late at night to his husband and enjoys a lovely dessert a lot sooner than he thought he would. Or; In which Akashi Takeomi's house husband spoils him rotten with whatever he wants tonight.

Warnings -> Kind Of Suggestive At The End.

                                                                                                   

🌠•♡•🌠•♡•🌠•♡•🌠•♡•🌠•♡•🌠•♡•🌠•♡•🌠

“Hmm hm hmmm hm-hm~♪”

[Name] hums a small tune to himself as he stands before the stove, making dinner for himself and his husband.

He and his beloved husband had been married for 4– going on 5 –years now. While his love was working hard at his job as a "marketing executive" he stayed home and looked after the house. Cleaning here and there, washing the laundry, doing the dishes, watering the plants, etc. It did get a bit lonely when his husband was called away for a business trip overseas, but he always managed to power through it due to their nightly phone calls.

[Name] used the spatula in his hand to flip over the pieces of chicken that sat in the skillet; coating the cooking meat in oil and spices. He was trying out a recipe that their neighbor had told him about the other day. The name of the dish completely escaped him, but he thankfully remembered the majority of the recipe. A sigh fell from his lips though when he saw a newly formed stain on the apron he was wearing; damn, it was a gift from his darling too.

The sound of jingling keys brought his attention away from the food; having him perk up and turn down the heat of the eye before running to the door to greet his love.

He made it into the living room just in time to see his husband shrugging off his snow-speckled coat. The apron-clad man smiles as he helps tug off his husband's coat; hanging up on one of the wall hooks that were mounted right next to the door. Clasping his hands in front of himself; [Name] waited until the other had kicked off his shoes to practically jump on him and pull him into a hug.

“Welcome home, Omi! How was work? Did you like the lunch I packed for you today? I'm making dinner, are you hungry?”  

The h/c-ette coos excitedly as he asks questions that he doesn't give the other enough time to answer.

Takeomi chuckles softly; he has grown used to his hyperactive lover by now. The younger always became very excited when he came home after being gone for long periods. He reminded the Bonten executive of a puppy sometimes; truly adorable.

The taller silenced [Name]; gently putting a finger to his lips and letting out a soft ‘shhh’. The apron-wearing man felt his face slightly warm as he looked into his lover's tired eyes; quickly and shyly looking away when they narrowed at him just a bit.

“One question at a time, Lovely.—”  

The man chuckles softly; moving his hand from his husband's mouth to gently tuck a strand of unruly hair back into place.

“—Work was alright; I closed a very good deal today, so I was given a few days off as a bonus. Lunch was delicious as usual; everything you cook is perfect. And yes, I'm hungry.”  

[Name] beams at him with a grin that could rival the light of the stars that twinkle just out the window. Taking the older's hand; he excitedly pulls him into the dining room and rushes back to the kitchen to finish dinner. Takeomi chuckles as he watches him scurry off, resting his chin on his palm as he patiently waits for his meal.

“You know…”  

Takeomi mutters before finishing his last bite of food; turning a sultry half-lidded gaze to his lover seated across from him.

“I think I'm still feeling hungry.”  

[Name] looks up from his own nearly finished plate; sending the other a soft smile as he finishes his one or two bites and stands from his seat, plate in hand. Walking over to the other end of the table; he picks up the other's plate and sits it on top of his own.

“I'll get you another plate then, Honey.”  

The h/c-ette hums softly; leaning down to press a kiss on his husband's temple.

An arm wraps around his waist and keeps him in place; hand gently caressing his hip. Takeomi gives a cheeky smirk as his hand travels down to his young lover's bottom; giving it a firm squeeze.

“That's not exactly what I'm hungry for, Kitten. I'm in the mood for something a little… sweeter.”  

It seemed the two would be having dessert a lot sooner than planned.

He purrs; sharp eyes narrowing even further as he gives [Name] the look of a hungry lion. 

🌠•♡•🌠•♡•🌠•♡•🌠•♡•🌠•♡•🌠•♡•🌠•♡•🌠

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

[thezombieprostitute]

Bittersweet

A/N: Written for @the-slumberparty's Sundae Bar:

🍧Cookie Dough: bakery au – cookie dough proves that a bit of baking can make anything better. Your characters now live in a bakery au, whether they work there, or come as customers, they can’t resist the sweet aura.

🍧Birthday Cake: secret admirer – it doesn’t have to be your birthday to have this flavour. And your secret admirer leaves you gifts every day, but just won’t give you the one thing you desperately want: their identity.

🥄Graham Crackers: flashback – a brief trip into the past reveals something important.

Warnings: Coercion, Stalking. Please let me know if I missed any!

There was a time when you really enjoyed going to work. Your bakery wasn't massively successful but it did well enough. The regulars kept you in business and you were able to attract the occasional crowd with seasonal recipes. You loved baking and you loved that you could try new things along with the tried and true. Even with the protection money you had to pay out, you were still able to turn a small profit.

As much as you hated it, you had to admit they did keep things relatively safe. The grocer across the street had gotten robbed and not only had the person been caught, the store owner received all of their money back with a bonus for the employee who'd been working the register. Store owners who get the runaround from their insurance companies just have to tell the right people to get the fixes and payouts they need. So while you hated having additional expenses, at least you knew it wasn't going to waste.

But then you started getting gifts delivered to you at the bakery. Practically every day, for the past few months, you've been getting gifts of all sorts. It was cute and fun at first. A charm bracelet with a bunch of baking based charms, a small bouquet of flowers. But the,n the gifts started getting more and more personal. A book that had been on your wishlist forever but you never told anyone about, a dress in your favorite colors that fit you perfectly. You started dreading stepping into the bakery.

The small box is on your desk and you take a breath to steady your nerves before opening it. Given the packaging it could be a book. Given the way the gifts have been going, it's likely a book of photos of you. You slowly unwrap the gift and you're proven partially correct. It's a framed drawing of you, asleep in your room. It's definitely your room. All the details are painfully correct. Someone was in your home watching you sleep.

As much as you want to drop everything and cry, there is work to be done. You've got bills and employees to pay. On top of that, it's time for the quarterly protection payment. Maybe you can ask the “agent” you regularly meet up with to keep an eye out for the secret admirer. You fill up the manila envelope with the payments and head to the kitchen to get things started.

The routine is comforting. Cookies, small cakes, pastries, you could probably make these in your sleep. It does help when your employees start trickling in and taking over some of the tasks. The shop is running like a well-oiled machine and you're able to forget about the unsettling drawing in your office.

A little before time to open, there's a knock at the front. You recognize the woman, Nat, as the one who collects the payments. You quickly run up and let her in. She seems especially chatty this morning.

“Hey, did you stop wearing that charm bracelet?”

“Oh, yeah,” you reply sadly. “It's actually something I was hoping to talk to you about.” As you step into the office you hand her the envelope with the payment before pointing to the picture. “My secret admirer has gotten more and more creepy, like a stalker. It's really scaring me.”

She looks at the drawing, “they're certainly talented.”

“Oh yes,” you agree quickly, “but that's not the point. That's my room. No one has been in my room for...long enough. There've been other gifts that feel way too personal for a stranger to know. Hell, even friends of mine wouldn't know!”

Tears start forming in your eyes and Nat quickly starts trying to soothe you. “We'll look into this,” she promises. “I'll have answers for you by the end of the week.”

You nod and thank her before she leaves and you get back to work, letting yourself get lost in the rhythm of the day.

“Excuse me, miss?”

You pause on your way to your car and turn towards the source of the voice. You recognize the man, Sam, as another “agent” like Nat. “Can I help you?”

“I've been asked to bring you to The Shield for dinner. We have some answers about your secret admirer.”

“Oh, what, um, what time?”

“Now,” he replies as he motions to his car.

“But I'm not dressed for The Shield. I'm covered in flour from work. I smell--”

“Now,” Sam repeats. His tone leaves no room for argument. Your hands shake as you put your keys in your purse and sit in the passenger seat of Sam's vehicle.

The Shield is a very high-end restaurant that's known to be a favorite of Barnes, the man in charge of the Protection for your neighborhood. You're not sure why he would need to see you in person. Did you overstep when you asked Nat for help? Do they need to start charging you more because of it? Can you afford the increase?

“You'll be okay,” Sam assures. “He just wants to talk to you over dinner.”

“I don't think I can afford the meal.”

He chuckles, “it's on us. He's making you come to dinner with him, the least he can do is pay for your meal.”

You nod your understanding. At least that's something you don't have to worry about.

At the restaurant, Sam leads you past the hostess and straight to, what you can only assume to be, a VIP area. Tables are set inside of nooks, some cordoned off by curtains to promote privacy.

One of the tables is occupied by two very different looking men. One of them is big and tall with long, brown hair and stubble. The other is smaller, with blond hair and looks...familiar. He looks up and smiles as he sees you and you're hit with a memory from over a decade ago.

You were working late shift at Waffle House. Not great, but it paid the bills your scholarship didn't cover. Culinary School was your ticket out of this town and you were going to give it everything you had. And, because of class schedules, the late night shift was your only real option.

On a slow night it was just you and another server managing the floor. Curtis, the cook, was out back for his smoke break. Your one patron came up to pay his bill. He was scrawny, blonde haired, blue eyed, and very polite. Unlike other late night patrons, he wasn't drunk and didn't try flirting with you. He spent most of his meal drawing in his notebook and you noted he was very skilled. He smiled shyly and thanked you.

He went to the till to pay but went pale when his card was declined. “I...I knew I was cutting it close but...I'm so sorry! Let me try to find some cash or something!” He starts frantically pulling out his pockets.

“It's okay, I've got you,” you assure him. “It was just eggs and toast.”

“I don't want your pity,” he mumbles. “I swear I can pay.”

“It's not pity, it's kindness,” you retort. “You were a very nice customer, very respectful. Not used to that this time of night. You even let me look at your artwork. So let me thank you for being nice by being nice in return.”

His cheeks are pink with embarrassment but he steadies himself, “I...I promise I'll pay you back.”

“I'm not worried about it.”

And now that same scrawny, blonde haired, blue eyed man was gesturing for you to sit next to him at the most high-priced restaurant in the city.

“I know it's been a while,” he states calmly. “So I'll understand if you don't recognize me.”

“Eggs and toast,” you whisper, making him smile.

“I still owe you for that meal. And with interest and economic inflation, I think you could order whatever you want from this place and I'll still owe you.” His companion, the big, brown haired man chuckles. “Please, have a seat. We've got some catching up to do.”

You sit down, still feeling in a bit of shock. “What...what are you doing here?”

“Me and Bucky,” he gestures to the brunette, “run this town. We're the ones you've been paying the protection money to.”

“You're Mr. Barnes?”

“That would be me, Doll,” Bucky speaks up. “I have the more intimidating presence people expect, complete with the skills to back that up. Steve here is the brains. The devious bastard figured out how to completely run out the other rackets, making us the only game in town.”

A sudden thought hits you. You look at Steve, “those gifts I've been receiving?”

“Those were me, Angel,” he smiles. “I figured you'd appreciate a glimpse at the nice things I can give you.”

“You...you broke into my apartment...”

“I own the building so it wasn't a break in,” he calmly tells you. “I have my own key.”

You freeze up. How many times has this stranger been in your apartment? How many times did he watch you sleep? And how much power does he have that he can openly admit these things to you without fear of repercussion?

“I warned him that the drawing was a step too far,” Bucky interrupted your thoughts. “But he insisted you'd be flattered.”

“Then we got Nat's report from you,” Steve frowned. “I really didn't think it would scare you.”

“You didn't think it would scare me to have someone draw me in my sleep? Without my knowing?!” You get out of your chair and try to back away. “You've been stalking me. Invading my privacy! I never consented to any of this!”

You try to turn and walk away but you're stopped by Sam. “I promise you,” he warns, “if you leave you will regret it.”

Confused you turn back to Steve and Bucky who are out of their own seats and stalking towards you, looking angry.

“I want to be nice,” Steve tells you. “But I'm sure you can guess, I don't have to be. Neither do my friends. Now please,” he holds out a hand to you. “Please come sit, and have dinner with me.”

You want to run. You want to scream. But this man owns your business. He owns your home. If you try to get away, where could you go? You've invested everything into your bakery and have no savings. You have nowhere else you can live. He owns everything you hold dear.

You take his hand, “I'm...I'm sorry, Steve. It's a lot to take in.”

He smiles while Bucky and Sam relax. “It's okay, Angel,” he covers your hand with his. “We've got all the time to figure this out.”

Partially inspired by @theinheriteddutchess; Tagging @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @fluxxdog; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @ronearoundblindly

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

I'm obsessed with your boog. Can I request more apple seed fluff and something funny??

Hi, Anon!

I'm sorry this has taken so long to get to. So many people have asked for Apple Seed blurbs, that I needed to take a break so I could focus on the "canon" story hahaha! I can definitely write you up a little funny Apple Seed piece.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Apple Seed (Bonus): Bun in the Inferno

Angel: (enters the kitchen in the middle of the night and pauses)

Vaggie: (tearing through the cabinets, scouring recipes, flipping and stirring various pots and pans) Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Angel: ........Hey, uh, whatcha doing, Vags?

Vaggie: Charlie. Midnight craving. (puts on a pair of goggles, opens a bottle of Infernal Ghost Pepper oil and blasts the skillet with a healthy dosage before dropping in black peppercorns, making them pop like popcorn kernels)

Angel: (coughs profusely as tears stream down his face) FUCKING HELL, VAGGIE!!!! WHAT IS SHE CRAVING?!?!?! I'M PRETTY SURE THAT RECIPE GOES AGAINST THE GENEVA CONVENTION!!! (closes his eyes and covers his nose and mouth with his robe)

Vaggie: (wipes the lenses of her goggles before she checks her list of Charlie's recent cravings) Brimstone Flavored Pickles, Spicy Jalapeño Ice Cream, Pepper Popcorn, Lava Cake with lava from Wrath, Scorched S'mores, and Blazing Burgers.

Angel: (stomach rolls as he gets secondhand heartburn) That crazy bitch tryin' ta get that baby killed or somethin???

Vaggie: No. She's just pregnant. (uses a pair of blacksmith tongs to plate up all the food on heavy duty, industrial grade, angelic steel tray) Very pregnant, and very much a demon princess.

Food: (pulsing in a red aura as spicy vapors rise from the midnight meal)

Angel: ......Vags?

Vaggie: ....Yes?

Angel: (pats Vaggie's shoulder) You're a good husband and father-to-be.

Vaggie: .....I'm a wife.... but thank you, Angel. That means a lot to me right now. (takes a deep breath and picks up the tray, carefully walking out of the kitchen) Wish me luck!

Angel: (salutes) Godspeed, Captain.

-A few minutes later-

Vaggie: (opens the door to her and Charlie's bedroom) Charlie, I have your food-

Charlie: (demon tail swipes out, steals the tray, and brings it into the deep, dark, recesses of the bedroom)

CHOMP!!! GRRRR!!! SNARL!!! RIP!!! TEAR!!! SNORRRF!!! CHOMP!!! CHEW-CHEW-CHEW!!!! GULP!!!

Vaggie: (slowly opens the door further once the sound of food being devoured stops)

Charlie: (sweet as a puppy, face and pajamas covered in food crumbs and sauces, and a broad smile on her face that makes her eyes sparkle) That was DELICIOUS, Vaggie! (tears up and sniffs back tears of joy) Y-You're too good to me!!!

Vaggie: (sighs and goes to the bathroom before coming back with a wet towel to help clean Charlie up) I'm doing the bare minimum, babe.

Charlie: (pouts) Then Kiss?

Vaggie: (chuckles and wipes off Charlie's face) Maybe after you brush your teeth. I'm afraid your mouth will melt my face off.

[megvmins]

moments with wind breaker men

some bf headcanons with my fav troublemakers.

includes: vinny, jay, dom, owen, joker

warnings: suggestive

author's note: I fell in love again and I need to share my Wind Breaker headcanons with the world. I wanted to add more but I might just do part 2 for the rest of the boys. likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 🫶

VINNY: it's notoriously well-known that waking up sleeping Vinny is impossible unless he can smell something delicious or hear people talking about food. that being sad, it is also absolutely impossible to get out of his embrace in the morning. arms hugging your waist, his chin resting on the top of your head and your legs intertwined, there is nowhere for you to go. once Vinny actually wakes up, he plants a soft kiss on the top of your head (but if you mention him doing that he will deny it like his life depends on it) and only then will he let go. your favorite past-time has to be annoying him because his reactions are always priceless. for example when you two are brushing your teeth side by side and you end up pulling faces looking at him through the mirror. it's all worth it just to see him almost spit out his toothpaste and throw you a death glare that softens into a loving eye-roll. 

JAY: cooking with Jay is one of your favorite moments. if you weren't a good cook, Jay is the perfect teacher thanks to his patience, so even if you mess up he wouldn't get angry (but he might make the cutest puzzled expressions over the possible catastrophes you manage to create while working on a fairly straightforward beginner friendly recipe). those puppy-like faces just make u wanna smooch him and he definitely doesn't mind. that being said, he is frustratingly proper and won't just ditch the cooking for a make-out session (his mind is definitely running with ideas but his self-control is something to behold, unfortunately). he will just resume cooking, this time standing right behind you and guiding you through your second attempt. just know he knows what he's doing and that you did not learn anything while he was in such a close proximity and all you could think about was how nice it feels to be in his arms and that his shampoo smells amazing. 

DOM: everyone knows that Dom got really passionate about biking and now his mind is literally filled with it and nothing else. but exams are coming up and he is in great need of intervention to not repeat the year again. you'd think helping him study would be pretty straightforward but it's definitely not. half the time you just find him gazing at you with heart eyes and content smile. sometimes it's necessary to just bonk his head with your textbook to bring him back to earth. but can you blame him? he is just really curious about the new chapstick he saw you use. so to motivate him to study you have to bet something on the line and suddenly he is back to being the Mr. Passionate everyone knows him to be. it only takes the promise of a few kisses and his motivation is back in overdrive. 

OWEN: Owen is great at distracting you. if you are having a tough time or just need to do something to forget about your troubles for a bit, he is the best person to go to. he's going to search up places to take you to – pretty cafes that are absolutely instagram worth and shopping trip that will make your feet hurt and your closet overflow because he will not hold back. if he sees your gaze linger on something he is pushing it into your arms to try it. it's definitely not just a treat for you, don't be mistaken. he loves seeing you show off the items and bonus points if you need him to help you zip something up. he plays it all cool and suave but his fingers are shaking a little bit, he takes his sweet time with it and then he makes sure to send you a naughty smile with a compliment that makes you weak in the knees. 

JOKER: Joker isn't really a fan of having you attend his underground fights. it makes him uneasy, thinking he will scare you away and that you might be used against him if someone decides to look for his weakness. that doesn't stop you from showing up anyway and patching him up. at this point you are both used to this silent dance of you cleaning his cuts and cooling down his soon-to-be-bruises. when you finish up, he brings you closer between his thighs and hugs your midriff since he is usually sitting down before you and rests his head on your chest/stomach listening to your calming heartbeat. before he let's go he whispers soft “thanks.” and offers a faint barely there smile that somehow still manages to make your heart skip a beat. 

[blue-mood-blue]

Danmei Faves Meet Chopped: The Thought Experiment

(with the caveat that I have not read All The Danmei so actually this is “a limited selection of danmei faves” meet chopped) (also as of their official translations, no spoilers pls)

The Contestants:

1) Xie Lian

Pros: There is not one single thing that you could put into a basket that this man would be intimidated by. Not a single thing. He will cook anything that you hand to him, and be delighted to do so. You cannot phase him with unlikely ingredients or conflicting flavor profiles, he has risen above these concerns. He is smiling at everything he pulls out of the basket and probably scaring the other contestants in the process.

Cons: He might kill someone. Not on purpose. He will be out after round one, guaranteed, once the medics standing by in case of cuts intervene for a severe case of “all the judges are now poisoned.” Filming will probably have to stop so ambulances can be called. The crew generously allows him to take his leftovers with him.

2) Wei Wuxian

Pros: He is going to pack so much flavor in every bite! Every single bite! This man knows and embraces spice, and no one will be able to tell him that his meal is bland or underseasoned! Chili oil all over the damn plate!

Cons: The flavor is pain, he’s used every pepper the pantry has, and if he makes it to round two it’s only because of Xie Lian accidentally unleashing the horrors in round one.

3) Mo Ran

Pros: He’s a good cook! He makes a variety of dishes, and he’s gotten used to adjusting recipes for specific preferences. He’s well-traveled so it’s likely he’s encountered many ingredients and had practice in a variety of conditions, which is good experience to have in this competition. He’s been doing his best to be on his best behavior, but heaven help anyone who monopolizes the fryer.

Cons: Again - he’s been on his best behavior, but that’s really for one person who is not currently in the kitchen. He also only really cooks for one person, who has particular tastes.

4) Luo Binghe

Pros: Also a good cook! He, too, has a range of dishes he knows how to prepare, with years of practice going back (probably) as far as his adoption in his early childhood. He is well-traveled as well, with such exciting and… unique locales such as Hell Dimension (aka Endless Abyss) where he probably had to make… questionable culinary choices, so he probably won’t be thrown by whatever’s in the basket.

Cons: There’s a non-zero chance that there’s blood in the food.

(Of this particular line-up, I think it would come down to Mo Ran vs. Binghe for the dessert round, which will be a close call - they both have experience with desserts, I imagine, but I think Mo Ran might have a slight advantage considering Chu Wanning’s sweet tooth. He’s made a lot of sweets and more often. Also, can Binghe lean on a “protagonist halo” when Mo Ran is the protagonist of his own story?)

(Assuming the final round doesn’t devolve into chaos and sabotage, which… is very, very possible.)

The Non-Contestants:

Hua Cheng: Could he do well on chopped? Almost certainly. But why would he? He is here to cheer on gege.

Lan Wangji: Would probably actually do better than Wei Wuxian, if he cooks the meal to Wei Wuxian’s taste - I feel like he would be a little more sparing with the spice. Otherwise, his food is probably too bland for the judges.

Chu Wanning: He has one good dish, and it’s [redacted]. He could last a round but after that he’s probably out. He will do his best. He will not look like he is panicking (he is panicking).

Shen Qingqiu: A millennial who choked to death on bad food and rage. He probably has limited kitchen skills, but beyond the powers of having a microwave? Who knows.

Bonus Round:

Li Yu: He would try so hard. He would put every bit of skill he had on the table. He does not have any skill to put on the table. Do not put a fish in his basket, do not do this to him.

Mu Tianchi: Probably wouldn’t even compete. He’s going to steal Li Yu’s food from the judges. How dare they.

Chang Geng: He could probably do well in the competition, if he could be convinced to compete, but he probably couldn’t. He is smiling very politely at the producer, who is feeling a chill down their spine and backing away slowly.

Gu Yun: Do not let this man in the kitchen, he will cause problems on purpose.

[indigosunsetao3]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPRE4g6YQ/

Okay but look at this 😭😫👏🏻❤️🥺🥹 it’s such husband behavior and I could see all the 141 guys doing this tbh. Maybe except Price (I feel like he’d go to the ends of the Earth to find one and would be successful. Even if it means driving 2+hrs to every Tesco trying to find the cake)

What? Stop it right now. This is too cute.

Just doing read more because it's a bit long to list them all. All are SFW and fluffy. 💙

Price for sure is going to every. single. store. He's going to find this cake one way or another; he won't come home until he's got it. He loses count of how many places he tries. He makes store managers call other stores to see if they have it in stock, watching them from the counter with narrowed eyes. When he tracks down the last one, which is another hour away, he asks the store to set it aside and pays them double when he arrives for their effort (and to apologize for slightly threatening them if they sold it to someone else). Traditions are important to him and he'll be damned if he misses a year. "I know it's almost midnight dear, but it's still technically your birthday. Never mind where I've been all day, not important."

Soap is making a masterpiece. Baking may not be his forte per se but man is artistic. His creation is a variation of all the different caterpillar cakes; selecting only the best qualities from each. And yes, he looked and studied them all. He has pictures of them all over the kitchen counter with notes on each about what he likes and doesn't like. Then he sketches out his own picture and uses it as a blueprint for his design, proudly naming it Craig.

"Clyde's eyes are terrifying, bonnie. But I didn't like how Chris didn't have feet...they have to have feet or then it's a snake. And Morris was boring, not enough stripes."

Gaz is in the kitchen for hours baking. He's bought everything he needs in bulk because he knows it's going to be a learning curve. He ends up with multiple failures, that he'll take to the team to devour, before finally getting it right. By the time he finishes, the kitchen is a disaster—every pan, bowl, plate, and pot (yes pot, he ran out of clean bowls) is dirty by the time he finishes. And flour? It's everywhere, his hair, clothes, the cat. "Stay out of the kitchen. Just sit here and enjoy this...I'll be back in a bit. If you see the cat just brush him off for me, yeah?"

Ghost enlists Soap to help him. It ends up with a bunch of arguing about how to do it. They fight over where to put the milk chocolate decorative pieces, the proper spacing of the eyes, the size of the feet and every other little imperfection Ghost can find. Soap eventually leaves telling Ghost to do it himself...before coming back thirty minutes later to help him finish. It's a bit lumpy and there are little slashes where it had been pulled apart and resealed with chocolate icing like glue from Ghost's attempts to get it perfect. "It's a bit beat up, sorry love. Tried to make it perfect for you, now it looks like he's been to war with all the scars."

Bonus:

Alex, poor soul, had no idea this kind of cake was even a thing at first. He assumed a caterpillar cake was just a sheet cake with the Very Hungry Caterpillar on it until you explained. Once he knows what it is, you get a caterpillar cake every year; he doesn't care that shipping costs three times as much as the cake itself. But this year the shipment runs late and he has to call in backup...which involves Gaz going to the shops to sweet talk the little old lady bakers for their recipe while Alex frantically takes notes. He only has a few hours to get it together and while he does his best...it's the thought that counts right? At least it tastes like it's supposed to.

"I know it's not Colin but if you squint hard enough it's vaguely a caterpillar....really squint, maybe cover one eye, and stand back a few feet. I promise your real one is on its way, just had a bit of delay."