#scratch mixer

[naomiknight-17]

This week, Tiny Tim has escaped and made me chase him through a muddy/slushy yard, bitten me worse than he ever did before, and farted on me so many times I've lost count

*sigh*

That's my boy

[johntype]

🎛️ I bought the mixer in 1999, but the faders broke after just a few months. Using techniques from my jewelry studies in Italy, I rebuilt the faders and added weights to improve their response. Additionally, I cut the lower part of the faceplate near the crossfader to match the measurements of the PMC-05 model.

Today, I gave the mixer a fresh update by applying a new skin and replacing the knobs and fader caps. After more than 25 years, the mixer is still working perfectly!

[teatitty]

EraserMic's first cat wasn't even a cat Aizawa brought home or one they got from a shelter, it was a lovely very affectionate moggie who found its way into Hizashi's radio station and would just laze around the place for a few hours and eventually it just. Curled up in Hizashi's bag and let him take it home

Hizashi didn't realise it was even in his bag [asleep under his jacket] until Aizawa saw it blearily poke its head out and. Well now they have a cat. It is affectionately named "Mixer" short for "Sound Mixer" because it was usually found snoozing on the sound equipment

[yoshistory]

CAKE IS IN THE OVEN FINALLY now time for to frosting

[azhchay]

My gift to my husband (his actual one is coming in later).

Sous vide rack of lamb, potato gnocchi and pesto from scratch, blanched and lightly sautéed green beans with bacon and Parmesan.

I had never made gnocchi or pesto from scratch before. I also don't own a stand mixer. My shoulders hurt. But, according to the husband, they damn near stole the spotlight from the lamb.

[static-void]

tbh i think my Primary Cardinal Sin is using instant mashed potatoes for things that call for leftover scratch potatoes

listen. do you think i honestly have the constitution to make a full thing of scratch potatoes For Fun. we don't eat Large Family Meals much anymore, so it's not like i'll have leftovers from that (& even when we do, we usually just go for baked potatoes instead because again. scratch potatoes are fucking killer on the spine)

[tensai-akage]

Soups, Stews and Chili - Grandma's Chicken Soup with Homemade Noodles The star of this chicken soup recipe, just like grandma used to make it, are homemade noodles.

[bi-writes]

thinking about mob baking simon a cake for his birthday (without his prior knowledge) mm good soup

mail-order bride

"you think he likes chocolate, baby?" you ask the cats. they sit side-by-side at the breakfast counter, being good girls as they sit on their chairs and watch you mix batter. "he totally likes chocolate. big boys like daddy love chocolate, don't they, girls?"

you grease two circular pans, pouring the chocolate cake batter into them. you set them in the oven before getting to work on your chocolate buttercream. you're using the new mixer simon bought you--it's beautiful, stainless steel, heavy. when you saw in the store a few weeks ago, you gushed at it, telling simon you saw someone make cinnamon rolls, bread, cakes, all in this mixer, but when your eyes skimmed over the price, you said nothing more, just smiled up at simon and let him lead you over to where the cast iron pans were (you wanted a real one).

a few weeks later, you noticed it on the kitchen counter. sparkling silver, right there, with the whisk attachment on it just waiting for you. and in the cupboard, ingredients--bread flour, powdered sugar, cornmeal, corn starch, dutch process, baking chocolate, whole wheat flour--all for you to play with. and when you baked him the most decadent triple chocolate coffee cake he had ever had, he bent you over the same table his empty plate sat and ate your cunt out with your apron still on. when you kissed him afterwards, he still tasted like chocolate.

you turn off the mixer, reaching in with a spoon to lick the buttercream off of it. you hum with delight, setting it aside, and when the oven timer dings, you pull the cakes out to let them cool.

you wrap simon's present as everything settles. special order, a favor you called into johnny. it's in a nice wooden box, and you tie a big red bow on it, and when you go back into the kitchen, you level and stack the two pieces of cake between buttercream and use a spoon to make a fancy decoration over the top of it.

the front door sounds as you're putting the finishing touches on the cake. you can hear him coming closer, and you gasp.

"no, no, no, don't come in the kitchen yet!"

"wot?"

"just--wait a little bit in the living room, okay?"

"for wot?"

"simon--" you groan. "please? for me?"

you don't hear anything after that except for the tv turning on. when you finish putting the last candles on the cake, you light them, picking up the plate and coming into the living room.

simon looks surprised. he was concentrating hard on the tv, watching the game, but his face relaxes when he sees you holding the cake. the cats perk up from where they're laid down beside him, and their ears flit as you start to sing happy birthday.

his whole face twitches. he stiffens, his palms flat on his thighs as he grips them tight. you set down the cake on the coffee table in front of him, candles glowing as you take a seat next to him. he's still staring at the cake as you finish the song.

"happy birthday, dear simon...happy birthday to you."

you smile at him, wrapping a hand around his bicep, squeezing it gently. you kiss his shoulder before motioning to the cake.

"you can blow them out now, simon," you say softly. "make a wish."

he doesn't move. he stares straight ahead, his eyes fixated on the flickering candles. you reach down and take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers and hugging his arm. you sit with him quietly, looking at the cake with him, and after a minute or so, you turn back at him.

"simon?" you whisper.

he's crying. you put a hand on the back of his head, scratching his short hair, and you cup his face gently as you wipe his tears. he's silent. the tears come, but he still doesn't move, still won't meet your eyes. you smile, going over to pick up the cake, and you hold it in front of him.

"here...make a wish, simon," you say softly. he picks up his sleeve and wipes his face, leaning over to blow out the candles. you put down the cake, standing up to go get his gift sitting on the kitchen table. when you sit down next to him again, he's still staring at the cake, still trying to pretend his face isn't wet with tears, but he stops wiping them when you place the box in his lap.

he unravels the bow. when he opens the case, he lets out a little chuckle, smoothing his hand over the foam inside.

there are an array of throwing knives laid before him. perfectly crafted, in different shapes and sizes, and when he picks one up and twirls it around between his fingers, the weight of them and the ease at which they move tells him you only picked out the finest quality. they're beautiful, and it's a thoughtful gift, and when he closes the lid on the box, he still can't meet your eyes.

"i'll cut us some cake," you say softly. you busy yourself getting plates and a cake knife from the kitchen, cutting generous slices before handing him one of the plates. he picks up the fork, and when you notice his hand shakes, you take the plate back from him gently and scoop a bite onto the fork for him. you don't say anything, just hold it up to his mouth, and once he takes a bite, you set the plate down and watch as he chews.

when he swallows, you sit again in silence. you reach over and take simon's hands in your own, squeezing them gently before bringing them up to your mouth to kiss softly. when he finally looks at you, all you do is smile.

he hadn't even remembered it was birthday. he never told you when it was, but he supposes you must have been curious enough to look for yourself. he can't remember the last time someone made him cake. he can't remember when he last received a gift, especially one like this. he doesn't know when he last thought himself happy enough to celebrate anything at all, but there is no other way he would've wanted today to go.

joy. you bring uninhibited, unfiltered, all-consuming joy. the way you're smiling at him--he can already see you in the kitchen in that apron, baking this cake, talking to no one but the cats as you carefully decorate it. the way you're looking at him--he knows you dreamed about this all week, scheduling the day so you could have the cake done as soon as he got home.

and chocolate. his favorite. decadent, sweet chocolate--it's still under his tongue, and he wants another bite already, he cannot wait to devour the slice that waits for him on the table.

"happy birthday, simon," you whisper, and when you lean in to hug him, he cradles the back of your head, tangling a hand into your hair as he presses you to his chest. "i love you."

fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck--

"love you, too, baby."

"what did you wish for?" you mumble into his shoulder. simon snorts a little, shaking his head.

"if i tell ya, it won't come true."

"oh, yeah," you giggle. "keep your secrets then."

he doesn't want more; the only thing he wishes for is more time. more time with you. as much as he can get. to live long enough that he gets to see your face for as long as possible.

that whatever he sees for the last time will be you and you only.

[mushroomates]

the fellowship bbq:

gandalf: arrives last (a wizard is never late), brings the most bizarre things with him. seven hot dogs buns (the exact number needed), a pepper shaker, (they ran out of pepper mid bbq) and fourteen napkins (there was a spill)

gimli: brings the beers. he has a giant ass cooler covers in rock (ha) band stickers as well as national parks. brings like,,., artisanal, local shit. unheard of brands and always fantastic. also brings homemade lemonade which is unironically the best shit ever. (the secret is he adds a pinch salt. the second secret is that the salt is “home grown”

legolas: oh boy legolas. really doing his best to master the art of pasta salad and it’s not going great. has brought: loose, uncooked penne mixed in with oak leaves, a ziplock bag of wet spaghetti and a separate ziplock bag of ranch dressing, three and a half raviolis on a bed of lettuce, and most recently, four different boxes of mac’n’cheese, unopened, and arranged artfully in a stand mixer bowl.

frodo: brings jello. every time. box-ready, red dye 40, un-name brand, jello. it’s the only thing he can reliably make and bring. it’s weirdly a hit every time. mostly because legolas and pippin play a game where they see how much random shit they can stick in it before the jello collapses.

sam: would love to bring the pasta salad but legolas says he has that covered. instead, brings potato salad and fruit salad. also brings the plates, forks, table cloth, condiments, seasonings and fly-covers. also bakes brownies with sprinkles themed per season.

merry: also brings brownies. do not eat merry’s brownies if you are driving or plan to drive within the next three days. pays sam like 20-50 bucks cash (whatever he can grab from his parents before he arrives to the function) because he wants to contribute more but hasn’t figured out how.

pippin: well,,, pippin. if you’re lucky with a giant ass watermelon, uncut. now your job to prep it as you see fit. also has a basket of loose produce he picked from his neighbors garden. there’s like,,,, sixteen cherry tomatoes and a fist full of mint.

boromir: is very protective of his grill. this does not stop merry and pippin from sneaking bites of of the cooking meat. has various “kiss the cook” aprons he cycles through. has a smoker and a grill, separate, brings both if not hosting. serves everyone else first. makes his patties from scratch.

aragorn: (?????) jerky. deer, probably. trail mix, fruit leather, mushrooms. all home made and foraged. sometimes brings baskets of wild blackberries. is more suited to picnics than barbecues. would like to one day man the grill- he can cook meat decently- but boromir won’t let him because he’s to light handed with the seasoning.

[yourcutelittlegayfriend]

✧✦✧ Chapter 3 ✧✦✧

Hello Father, Die

Warning this part contains: Cursing, Hallucinations (Schizophrenia maybe), mentions and descriptions of a noose, Murderous and Violent thoughts, Trauma Triggers (MC's), Dark Themes(not the settings btw) and Typos&Badwriting Combo.

Note: a bit long fic that was supposed to be short, this is more of the relationship between Bruce and MC as well as a special pov from someone after this it'll be short shots with the rest of the family unless-

MASTERLIST Pages ↻ 2 , 4....➣

Now Playing

↻◁ ||▷↺Sucker - Markus King (Arcane) ılıılıılılılıılıılı

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It's suffocating.......

Everything is choking me.....

Death clings to me like my own skin as I walk along the bloody trench I dig by myself.

Every hand from my past and other life reaches out and tugs onto my skin and soul begging for another chance.

but not this time.

My light at the end of this long unwinding tunnel is just beyond reach.

I won't stop until I get what I want, I won't until I get what I deserve.

As the stormy night passes by Gotham, I wake up to my new bed that Alfred prepared me last night.

I begged Alfred to let me stay near him so he gave in and fixed up a guest room near his own quarters, a good decision on my part that's for sure.

A room far away from my old bedroom and a safer one closer to Alfred, a slight change that I hope won't fuck up the reset.

Looking around I observe the barren room and walls, just a few pieces of furniture, a bed, a shelf, and a door to a medium size toilet and bathroom.

'Better get fixed up, We're hungry' they poke my back as I see a towel placed conveniently by the knob of the open bathroom door.

Nodding my head as I hummed in agreement before entering and closing the door.

✦✧✦

Heading out, I quickly trace back my way into the kitchen and see Alfred whipping up something on the marbled counter with a few cups and bowls scattered around yet in an organized and clean manner.

Walking up I stare at the ingredients on what I could guess would be the breakfast for the other one inhabiting this 'house'.

I see them peek out their head from the corner of the counter and poke the bowls pretending to be like a cat while words scribble at the ingredients like 'yummy' or 'bleugh-'

I stood at the ledge since I was back to being my kid size, only my eyes reaching the top of the surface and silently watching Alfred prepare, it didn't take him less than a minute to notice me but I could see him slightly tensing when he look into the corner of his eyes.

'Never the jumpiest in the family before' they say as tilt their head behind Alfred's shoulder as the word 'Jumpy' flashes at the back of the butler's form.

"Good morning, Mr. Alfred". I quietly said to him as I shifted my attention to the whirling electric mixers that were mixing the pancake batter.

"Good morning as well Young Master". He returned my greetings before turning the mixer and properly faced me.

"May I ask hold long have you been waiting there?". He wonders as he picks up the metal bowl and turns to fire up the stove.

"More than 5 minutes, I'm used to waking up early Mr. Alfred". I tell him as I observe him, hearing him hum before I continue to watch him and get lost in my daydream.

'Since I missed meeting Bruce I'd wonder when he'll pop up now' I wondered before a loud scratching record screech on my ear made me wince and the hairs on my neck stood up as I heard them whisper frantically.

'He's here! run run run run run runrunrunrunRUNRUNRUN GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GO AWAY GO AWAY GO AWAY-!' They scream and yell as their voice pounded on the walls and the shadows swirl around the room I see their polished leather shoes rounding the entryway in the corner of my eye then everything vanishes by the sound of his voice.

"Alfred, Is -oh". I hear him behind me as I watch Alfred side-eye my form before moving his sight to the figure behind me who by the sound of his reaction probably notices me quickly.

"Good morning Master Bruce, Breakfast shall be done in 10 minutes but for now-". He greets him slowly moving towards me and lays a hand on my shoulder.

"I believe you have someone who needs your attention this morning". Alfred finishes -his words making us scoff in my head- as he gently turns me to look at 'him'.

'Traitor' they snarl at Aflred before hiding behind me with a swish 'His Attention? let's see how long that fucking last' they grumble as they wrap their arms around my waist.

Finally looking at him I fought within myself not to jump on his face and slap the daylights out of him-

Many things are scribbled on his face, his whole features are crudely crossed out, large and pointy horns stood above his head longer than the ones on his cowl, a large drawing of a sick grin over his mouth and crosses on his eyes as many things, horrible things floated around him like a halo yet a big fucking 'SUCKER' was written behind his head as I see 'them' perched on his shoulders tying what looks to be a large noose around his neck.

'Hello Father' they giggled before their voice venomously spit out 'Die' as they pulled the rope up and-'

Quickly blinking it away I stare back at him again not saying a thing with a light tired frown on my face, studying his face one more time as I move my eyes to his also tired ones that have a little bit of eyebags under, his wrinkled skin on his forehead and corner of the eye despite being on his younger adult version.

'Guess trauma is a motherfucker'

I look away from him and greet him quietly not wanting to look at him no more longer than a minute.

"Hello, Mr. Wayne" I whispered and stared at Alfred's pants and the marble flooring respectively.

I hear him sigh and feel him lower down to my height as I hear him reply back a greeting.

"Hello and.......who might you be?". He asks as I peek back and see him on one of his knees as he tilts his head.

"-......- " I only stare at him before whispering my name and turn away again but move as far as I can and stand by the other side of the island and hide behind.

I can hear the two adults talk behind me but I ignore them anyway and close my eyes.

'Bruce Wayne, my biological father, my real father, he........I know in myself that he was never a 'bad' father, I knew because he cares about the rest of his ward or adopted children but in all of my life has he never gone through most of those with me'

My hands tremble as I feel them wrap theirs around mine as they whisper to me 'He's a poor sucker, let him go'.

'He wasn't abusive or anything but he never was there for me, it's either he's never enough or I was never enough, All I asked of him was to love me, I never wanted to be a robin or batgirl, I never wanted to be the best, I never wanted to be anything more but his child'

'It's fine, he can kill us again if he wants to' They said as their hands cupped my face and tilted it up I saw their face clearly and their pearly white shark smile widened on their lips.

Because We're already dead inside 

✧✦✧✦✧

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Hope this ain't that dark

[felixandresims]

KICHEN 2Point0 Part 2

The 43-piece second half of the KICHEN 2Point0 focuses on appliances and clutter for your kitchens.

Of course, it's also time for another trip down memory lane to revisit the original Kichen & how it links back to this current iteration. All the items apart from the wishboner chair have been completely new ideas and meshes, however we wanted to try and capture some of our favourite elements from the original and reimagine them in our current styles. Way back in 2019 Harrie wasn't experienced in making new meshes from scratch, so many of the clutter items were mesh edits of EA items. For our first few collaborations, we would actually explore all of the EA items that we felt would fit into our theme, but with the Kichen 2Point0, we made all of the clutter items from scratch. It was so important for us to include new essential clutter pieces in this set as even to this day, we will often gravitate towards those original clutter items when building & we still spot them in many of your builds, too!

We have tried to cover all the appliances you need to bring this kitchen to life. Of course, with new EA functional items being added with new pack releases, we were also long overdue for a small appliance refresh that we haven't had in any of our other set releases. Highlights include the functional kettle (requires For Rent EP) and the mixer (requires Home Chef Hustle SP), but of course, we have also included decorative versions for those of you who don't have those packs.

Most of the items are Base Game compatible, except for the Mixer & kettle, as mentioned above, and can be found by searching the B/B catalog using the keyword 2Point0. As the items are designed for both of our current sets, they will also appear when you search using the keywords KLEAN or SOHO.

We can't wait to see what you do with the new items and how you bring them all to life in your game. As always, we would love it if you tagged us in your builds on social media.

Set items include:

High Oven

Low Oven (2 counter height options)

Low Gas Stove (2 counter height options)

Low Induction Stove (2 counter height options)

Induction Hob

Gas Hob

Dishwasher (2 counter height options)

Fridge

Coffee Machine

Kettle (functional & decorative)

Food Mixer (functional & decorative)

Mixer Bowls

Toaster

Pot & Pans

Large Plates

Small Plates

Bowls

Cups

Glasses

Pantry (open)

Pantry (closed)

Double Pantry

Now on Patreon Early Access

This Set is on Early Access and will be available for everyone on the 7th of June.

[harrie-cc]

Kichen 2Point0 - Part 2

The 43 piece second half of the KICHEN 2Point0 focuses on appliances and clutter for your kitchens.

Of course its also time for another trip down memory lane, to revisit the original Kichen & how it links back to this current iteration. All the items apart from the Wishboner chair have been completely new ideas and meshes, however we wanted to try and capture some of our favourite elements from the original and reimagine them in our current styles. Way back in 2019 Harrie wasn't yet experienced in making new meshes from scratch (Fun fact: The dining table included in the original Kichen was her first ever from scratch mesh!), so a lot of the clutter items were mesh edits of EA items. For our first few collaborations we would actually explore all of the EA items that we felt would fit into our theme, but with the Kichen 2Point0 we made all of the clutter items from scratch. It was so important for us to include new essential clutter pieces in this set as even to this day we will often gravitate towards those original clutter items when building & we still spot them in many of your builds too! (edited)

We have tried to cover all of the appliances you would need to bring this kitchen to life. Of course with new EA functional items being added with new pack releases we were also long overdue a small appliance refresh that we haven't had in any of our other set releases. Highlights include the functional kettle (requires For Rent EP) & the mixer (requires Home Chef Hustle SP), but of course we have also included decorative versions for those of you that don't have those packs.

Majority of the items are Base Game compatible with the exception of the Mixer & kettle as mentioned above and can be found by searching the B/B catalogue using the keyword 2Point0. As the items are designed for both of our current sets they will also show up when you search using the keywords KLEAN or SOHO

We really can't wait to see what you do with the new items and how you bring them all to life in your game. As always we would love you to tag us in your builds on social media.

Set items include:

High Oven

Low Oven (2 counter height options)

Low Gas Stove (2 counter height options)

Low Induction Stove (2 counter height options)

Induction Hob

Gas Hob

Dishwasher (2 counter height options)

Fridge

Coffee Machine

Kettle (functional & decorative)

Food Mixer (functional & decorative)

Mixer Bowls

Toaster

Pot & Pans

Large Plates

Small Plates

Bowls

Cups

Glasses

Pantry (open)

Pantry (closed)

Double Pantry

Available Now on Patreon Early Access

Public Release: 7th July

[suzukiblu]

welp I remain INCREDIBLY weak to positive reinforcement, haha, so day two of “Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it” behind the cut. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Tim takes the obvious opportunity that Bernard chattering and Kon being a little bit dumbstruck gives him–because like, of fucking course he does, he’s a Bat–and offers Kon the caramel-dipped waffle quarter again, and Kon, like . . . okay, well fucking obviously he’s gonna eat it, Bernard made the damn caramel from scratch and Tim is offering it to him. Like, there is not a world in which he does not eat that. 

He takes a bite, mostly distracted by what Bernard’s going on about with whipped cream and hand mixers and whatever and idly having some related kinky thoughts because, like, in his defense, whipped cream, and then forgets completely about what Bernard’s going on about with . . . whatever Bernard’s going on about. 

“Oh my god what did you put in this,” Kon blurts, half-covering his mouth with a hand before he accidentally spits out any waffle crumbs and staring at Bernard for a moment. Like, the waffle is warm and basically the perfect mix between outside crunch and inside fluff, but also it tastes like–what the fuck is in this, seriously, is there sex pollen in this or something? 

“Oh, it’s actually basically my banana bread recipe, so . . . banana? Like a significant amount of banana, and then some sour cream, and a little cinnamon, brown sugar, and vanilla,” Bernard ticks off, gesturing with a waffle chunk of his own before spooning some whipped cream onto it, because Bernard apparently just made . . . everything on this breakfast tray from scratch, okay. Like . . . yeah. Okay then. “And also there’s some chocolate chips and chopped pecans in there, because like, literally what is not better with chocolate, seriously. Admittedly I don’t actually know how good it is with peaches, haven’t tried that one before, but I figure at least the caramel should be good.” 

Kon stares blankly at the dude and resists the instinctive marriage proposal currently warring with his natural “kept boy” instincts, then takes another bite of waffle when Tim offers it. It keeps tasting, like, fucking delicious, and also now he can break down “fucking delicious” in a little bit more detail than, like . . . just “fucking delicious”, basically. 

. . . will Ma kill him if he asks another cook for their waffle recipe? Is that a thing he might have to worry about? 

. . . . . . could be worth it, honestly. And she might let him live if he shares. 

“Do you, like, cook a lot, or . . . ?” he asks, half-trailing off when Tim feeds him more fucking deliciousness, which is in his defense pretty distracting. Like–Jesus, how did Bernard get an alleged banana bread recipe to make waffles this fluffy? Like, what fucking witchcraft was involved in that one? 

“Constantly and all the time and nowhere near as much as I wanna, so honestly the excuse to make an extra sauce was kinda nice, not gonna lie, it’s very relaxing,” Bernard replies frankly, stacking up some banana slices on his waffle chunk and then making himself a little waffle sandwich to stuff into his mouth effectively whole. The little waffle sandwich is weirdly adorable. Like, to the degree Kon would probably find it adorable even if he weren’t high on pink kryptonite right now, but like, maybe that’s the banana bread waffles’ fault. “Well, actually caramel is low-key the devil because you cannot ever take your eyes off it ever without it burning to shit and ruining your godsdamn pot, but it’s not like I didn’t have time to baby it so it’s whatever. Why, do you cook?” 

“Um . . . naw, just I help, um . . . well, there’s, like–I help bake, a little?” Kon replies hesitantly. Which, like, is mostly just him fetching shit and kneading stuff for Ma so her arthritis doesn’t act up as a dumb little excuse to, like, hang around the kitchen and living room area when she and Pa are talking, sometimes, but . . . technically it counts, he guesses? Like, technically? 

Bernard perks up, like–instantly, and to a really surprising amount, which is a little weird, and Kon isn’t sure what that’s about. 

“Oh, so the most evil culinary art then, wow,” Bernard says, sounding impressed. Which is definitely not what he is actually is, unless Kon has somehow given him a very incorrect impression of his baking skills, but still feels a little flustering to hear in relation to, like, something besides being good in bed. Like, just given the nature of this particular long weekend and all. 

“Uh–what?” Kon asks, trying to figure out what Bernard’s actually talking about here, and Bernard starts making himself another little banana/whipped cream waffle sandwich with an easy little shrug. 

“You know, like how the first rule of cooking is have fun and be yourself and the first rule of baking is stay calm because the dough can smell fear, is what I mean,” he replies reasonably. 

“I mean it’s not that hard, honestly, I can kinda like, just feel when it’s baked enough without having to check, so . . .” Kon shrugs himself, feeling a little awkward about it. Like–it’s kinda cheaty, honestly. “Or like, proofed or whatever.” 

“I hate you, come work at the restaurant I’m gonna open when I’m thirty-two, you can make all our bread in-house,” Bernard says very feelingly, and Kon forgets the awkward feeling to start snickering, because this dude is ridiculous, and still funny as fuck on top of that. 

“I literally just help out, man,” he says. “I am at best the actual baker’s errand boy.” 

“You just told me you can feel when the bread’s risen enough, you bastard, I am gonna press-gang you into this restaurant if I have to,” Bernard retorts huffily, then pauses, looks speculative, and asks: “Does that work on souffle, actually?” 

“I mean, I guess it would?” Kon replies with a frown, tilting his head a little. “Never tried, but–” 

“Hey Tim, I’m press-ganging your boy onto the line, good news, you won’t have to deal with me ranting about how much I hate my pastry chef every morning over coffee when we’re thirty-two,” Bernard informs Tim casually, and Tim’s mouth quirks in amusement and Kon just laughs helplessly again. 

“Oh my god, Bernard, I am the last person you wanna get to make pastry, much less restaurant pastry,” he says, still laughing. 

“I don’t know, your presentation skills would be pretty good, I’d think,” Tim says reasonably, which totally derails Kon’s cracking up. “You’re pretty artistic when you want to be. And definitely creative, and good with your hands on top of that.” 

Kon feels briefly startled–like, startled enough to not even make a sex joke about the “good with your hands” comment–because he like . . . basically never does anything that’d really count as “artistic”, as far as he’s concerned, and he’s really only “creative” in terms of coming up with creative new ways to curbstomp bad guys or whatever, not . . . 

He bites the rest of the waffle quarter out of Tim’s hand, mostly to give himself a second to process all the weird things he’s feeling about Tim saying something like that, and then has some more weird feelings when Tim swipes the pad of his thumb across the corner of his mouth to get up a smudge of caramel and then taps it lightly against Kon’s mouth to like . . . invite or offer, maybe, Kon’s not sure which. 

Though like, obviously he licks it clean either way. 

“Ohhhhh, hey, so how delicate does the TTK get?” Bernard asks, his eyes gleaming. 

“Uh–I mean, borderline atomic-level, depending?” Kon replies, a little bewildered still. “But like, that’s kinda an adrenaline-fueled apocalyptic sitch kinda thing, so mostly just . . . I dunno, tweezers? Mini-screwdriver? Somewhere in there?” 

“Okay, so when every single fine dining establishment in Gotham tries to poach you from me, I need you to remember how much you liked my dick when you were gay and pay that favor back by not accepting their disgusting amounts of money and prestige,” Bernard says, and Kon can’t help laughing again, or feeling, like–kind of warm, again. Like, kind of in the horny way, but also kinda . . . not, maybe. 

Seriously, it’s so weird how much hanging out with Bernard feels like getting a crush on a girl he’s just met. Like–very, very much so. Increasingly so, at this point. 

“I dunno, man, unless your fine dining establishment has a pink K chandelier . . .” he counters teasingly, and Bernard looks straight-up delighted by that idea. 

“Ooo, I bet that lighting would be sick, very romantic ambiance for the customer base,” he says with a grin. “What do you think, I could do my supervillain career in Metropolis and then retire to Gotham with all my ill-gotten gains and invest in a chandelier or twelve. You totally wanna get fucked after-hours on my prep counter under flattering rosy lighting, right?” 

“Come on, man, I look good in any lighting,” Kon scoffs, making a show of preening. “Or on any counter, as a matter of fact.” 

“Valid,” Bernard agrees with a sage nod, and Kon feels an irrational level of heat in his face but grins at him again anyway. Like–whatever, it’s the kryptonite; doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy the ride. 

“Yeah, I’m sure the health department would love that, you two,” Tim says wryly, the corner of his mouth ticking up in amusement. 

“Oh my god, Tim, like we wouldn’t clean up after,” Bernard huffs, making a show of rolling his eyes. “Like I don’t know basic food safety standards. But fiiiiine, I’ll put in a special counter just for fucking your boy on when I’m doing the initial remodel, would that make you feel better?” 

“You designing your future professional kitchen with a specific place reserved to have sex with my best friend in it?” Tim asks, tilting his head slightly with a briefly speculative expression. 

“Yes, obviously,” Bernard says. 

“If you made sure the security cameras’d have a good view, I guess,” Tim allows. 

“Why would I need to, look at him, the cameras will be magnetically attracted to him,” Bernard scoffs, and Kon feels sort of–flustered, maybe, and flushed, and kinda–flattered, almost? Just . . . something about that particular sex fantasy is . . . 

Like, it’s just–it's still just a jokey fantasy, yeah, but it's one that sounds like, like . . . like an actual plan would, almost. Like, obviously still just a joke, but . . . he doesn’t know, just a more flattering joke, somehow. Kinda. Also, if he’s really thinking about it . . . well, obviously there’s sex in it, but it’s really less a sex fantasy than it is just, like . . . 

Well. Just . . . a fantasy, he guesses. Like . . . like they’ll all just still know each other in their thirties and know each other well enough to wanna hang out that much and . . . 

Just–yeah. So it’s a little more flattering, kinda. Like, as a fantasy and all. 

It is also making it real fuckin’ hard to concentrate on breakfast, under the circumstances. 

Tim offers him another slice of peach, and Kon bites his lip and glances up at his face again. 

“Rob, man, yours is gonna get cold,” he points out. 

“Really not worried about it,” Tim says, which is sort of hard to argue with, but like . . . 

“But–” Kon starts reflexively, and Tim taps the peach slice against his lower lip. 

“Eat your breakfast like a good boy, and I'll give you something good while I eat mine,” he says, and Kon’s brain fritzes out completely and his gut goes absolutely molten. “Open up.” 

Kon doesn’t even take a moment to actually say anything or even nod, just immediately opens his mouth. 

Tim smiles down at him soft enough to really fry his brain and sets the peach slice on his tongue. There’s some caramel sauce on it, and Kon flashes back to Tim doing the same thing to him with the candy with his own damn come on it and kind of, like, spontaneously combusts or explodes into a supernova or just melts down into caramel himself. 

Tim taps his mouth shut with two fingers under his jaw, and Kon just about fucking swoons over it. 

So–yeah, he is definitely not gonna be arguing about the temperature of anybody’s breakfast right now.

[yiiyiiwrites]

Baking with their mates

I’ve been baking a birthday cake today 😌 and just had this in my head. [Acotar masterlist]

The guys baking:

Azriel:

He’s baked with you a few times, but it’s the decorating where he feels the most confident. His shadows steadying his movements as he adds fancy piped icing to the buttercream exterior.

You like admiring his concentrated gaze and how the silence wraps around you. Sometimes he even hums to himself when he’s really focussed.

You can tell from Azriel’s face that he doesn’t want to cut the cake and eat it after. But the pesky dark wisps smudge the edge, so he sighs and cuts you both a slice to eat. Azriel asking bakers on perfect buttercream mix and the different size piping nozzles.

Cassian:

Chaotic mess, but you’re just the same. You enjoy the shared activity, the light brushes as you squeeze past each other to do certain parts like you’ve got a good routine/production line going between the two of you.

It’s not till you’re waiting for it to bake do you realise the mess you’ve left behind. It’s like a battlefield and you both try to get out of it by rock,paper, scissors but you end picking the same thing and end up cleaning up together.

Cassian always tries whatever you bake straight from the oven, even when you warn him not to. Has roped you into making a chocolate cake after seeing Bruce eat an entire one in Matilda.

Eris Vanserra:

Pastries are your favourite thing to bake and Eris hovers around the kitchen testing your latest experiments. He even asks you teach him taking full advantage of getting your help or opinion. Praise.

He likes when you hold his hands and guide them on how to present the pastry. Smirk on his face as you fall for it every time as you know he’s a bit of perfectionist.

Makes sure you taste it first, his elbows on the counter and leaning forward to catch your expression. Learns how to make churros after you try them at the autumn equinox celebrations.

Lucien Vanserra:

You don’t know why you even said yes to letting Lucien in your kitchen. You both started off using boxed recipes and just adding an egg, now you’re trying to make it from scratch.

You can’t help but get distracted, his sleeves rolled up his muscular arms and the way his finger swipes off a splash of cake mix from your chin.

You end up burning the cake as you were oh so distracted by other things.

Definitely would be making pot brownies randomly when you can’t sleep. Making cookies and adding everything else instead of chocolate chips.

Rhys:

After a long time of Rhys asking to bake with you, you give in and wished you didn’t. Because he’s even better than you at it!!

You should have known though, he seems to pick up things pretty quickly and teases you when you accidentally put the mixer on the highest setting and splatter cake batter everywhere. His confidence and ability to do everything makes you feel butterflies and you’re a ditsy mess as you try to ramble off instructions.

Asks you when you’re opening your own bakery and reeling off business ideas.

Tamlin:

After you asked Tamlin to bake with you, he started researching edible flowers and brought them with him, recipe book in hand for you two to try making them.

The first batch goes horrible wrong, that you end up making something simple. Tamlin goes home and bakes them again multiple times till he perfects them.

He returns a week later, offers you some beautiful cakes decorated with flowers and flavoured with them. Gives you a recipe he amended that makes the best cakes.

[thanosscross]

Cutie - Kwon Ji-Yong/G-Dragon x reader part one

Summary: After getting a pretty good gig, you meet someone at the club, who you immediately take a liking to, due to how fucking adorable he was anytime he was around you, never noticing he was the one who sang some of your favorite songs to play.

Warnings: None <33

You worked with music for as long as you could remember, you always liked the way certain songs just merged perfectly, plus it was just fun. Once you got to the legal age to go out to clubs, it just got even more fun, so you decided to invest your birthday money and savings to get all of the equipment you'd need to start taking DJ gigs at different clubs around your hometown.

After a few months, you quickly made a name for yourself in the club scene, even getting to travel to other countries to be able to do the one thing you absolutely loved. Which is how you ended up in a high end private club, making sure all of your things were hooked up before the club actually opened. "Y/n? Right? So we're going to have some pretty big names in here tonight, so make sure shit is amazing or we won't be afraid to replace you." The manager stated as he helped you set your mixer down on the table, it was your most expensive piece, so naturally it was your baby, always making sure it was in the most pristine condition, never really allowing anybody to touch it during your gigs, unless you needed help carrying it back to your car.

As the night started off, you were more reserved, trying to feel out the crowd before really getting into it, you nodded along to your music as you took a drink of the random drink the bartender had made you, thankful for the complimentary drinks during your gig. You noticed as a group of four boys walked in, watching as the crowd morphed around them you assumed they were the big names the manager was talking about. You held your headphones as you shook your head to the beat, bouncing on your tip toes as you mixed one of the trending songs for a rising band, BigBang, with a song you became familiar with in your sets, You weren't sure the name exactly, but you knew from the BigBang songs that you mashed up, he was one of the guys that went by G-Dragon. You noticed as the boys looked over towards you laughing loudly as they sent you a thumbs up.

As the night got later, you got drunker, but so did everybody else, the club was vibing and you swore this had to be one of your best gigs yet. Noticing movement from the side of your eye, you glanced over, seeing a shorter man shyly scratching the back of his neck a few feet away. "Hi...Can I help you?" You shouted over the music, giggling softly as you slid your headphones around your neck so you could hear him properly, keeping your hands on the switches on your mixer not wanting to miss your cue to switch the song back over to 'Fantastic baby'. "U-Um..Hi! I'm Ji-Yong! I like your stuff!" He sheepishly shouted pointing to your setup, you smiled softly, shamelessly checking him out.

He was adorable, you could tell by his slurred words and him swaying as he stood shyly in front of you, he was drunk, he had on tight black skinny jeans, a striped oversized long sleeve shirt with a white t-shirt over it, the sleeves pulled over his hands as he nervously rocked on his feet. His hair was cleanly cut as the silky black strands were sat perfectly out of his face, you took notice to the tattoos that littered his neck, disappearing under his shirt, and his ears that were covered in small earrings. "You're cute!" You smiled after a minute "I'm y/n!" You added on before nodding your head, motioning him to get closer to you, shuffling closer, Ji-Yong covered his cheeks blushing brightly. Even drunk he'd still always get ladies flustered, but here you were, making him a blushing mess just by checking him out and drunkenly complimenting him. It confused Ji-Yong though, even in his state, you sang along to his song, not missing a single word, but you still never noticed who exactly was standing next to you, it had to be the alcohol he thought, that's why you didn't notice yet, right? How could you mainly be playing their songs all night, and not know him?

As it got closer to close you swayed your head back, moving your hands in the air to the beat of Good Boy, you had somehow without realizing made that into your closing song. Anybody who had been to your gigs before would get the hint to get their things together as soon as the song started, knowing they had one more song after that before they'd be kicked out. Ji-Yong was even more drunk than he was whenever he first approached you, jumping next to you as he shook his head drunkenly to the beat, his hair getting messy and wild in the process. As the club closed, you were left standing next to a drunk, giggling, blushing Ji-Yong "You going to come back tomorrow to see me, cutie?" You asked raising your eyebrows playfully, watching as he gasped his eyes widening "Will you be back?" He whispered in shock, excitedly grabbing your arms "Yea, I've got a few more gigs before I head over to a place in America for a few weeks" You smiled, watching as he blushed brightly covering his cheeks in excitement with his hands, now that the lights were on, you could see him a lot better. "If you want me too" He chuckled, throwing his head back as he blushed, not noticing his friends approaching with their own smirks "Of course, Cutie, I'd always be happy to have you up here being the good looks of my gigs" You teased, watching as three other men approached "Ji-Yong! Is this where you've been all night!?" The tallest one shouted laughing, Ji-Yong just turned around excitedly "Guys! Guys! This is Y/n!! She's awesome!" He cheered, holding onto one of your arms still as he bounced in his spot "Nice to meet you, Y/n, Sorry about our friend here, he tends to get excited after shows and...I guess runs off now whenever he gets drunk" A shorter one replied, extending his hand "I'm Dae-Sung, That is Tae-Yang, and this giant, is T.O.P" He smiled, as you shook his hand you gasped recognizing at least one of the names, you smiled bowing slightly in respect, Seung Hyun just blushed laughing softly "Thanks for taking care of Ji-Yong for us, hopefully his drunk ass wasn't too much of a bother" Tae-Yang jumped in, shaking your hand gently, Ji-Yong pouted sightly as his friends pulled him away from you "No, of course night! He's welcome back to my gigs anytime, I like having cuties help me up there" You smirked, winking at Ji-Yong before bidding your farewells, going to find one of the bartenders to help you with your things.

Your second night there, it took awhile for you to spot the boys, but after about three hours of being there, you spotted them all walking in, Ji-Yong being in front, trying to look around the crowd to get a better view of you. "I'm going to go find Y/n!" He shouted to his friends, determined to stay slightly sober as he spent the night with you again. As Ji-Yong made his way to you, his cheeks immediately broke into a blush, you were already standing behind the table, a glass in your hand, and an extra sitting a few feet away from all of your equipment. "Cutie! Get over here!" You cheered, smiling brightly as you spotted him at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the platform you were set up at. Ji-Yong was quick to rush over, smiling as you grabbed his hand raising it in the air as you danced along to the song playing.

It wasn't long before Ji-Yong was drunk with you again, dancing along to the music with his hand still in yours. "I'm gonna miss you when I leave, cutie!" You shouted over the music, moving your hips to the beat, giggling as you watched him cover his cheeks in a blush. Ji-Yong couldn't help it, between how hot you were always making him flustered, and the way your hips moved to the music, it was giving him unholy thoughts as he hid his face. "Really?" He asked loudly over the speakers, you nodded in reply, smirking as you spun him around before pressing your back against his chest, running your hands up your body, the alcohol really taking you in it's hold. "W-Why don't I give you my number?" He asked shyly, trying to hide his blushing cheeks, and the obvious growing bulge in his jeans.

After your little dance break with Ji-Yong, he was feeling more flustered than ever, holding his cheeks as they started to hurt from how long he was smiling for. He excused himself, using the excuse he needed to use the restroom to go find his friends, feeling like he was going to explode being around you. "Seung Hyun!" He shouted, spotting the group at a table, laughing about something "Yes, Ji?" He asked playfully, turning his head to look at his friend who was clearly flustered and frustrated "She's so fucking...Oh my god!" He shouted; it was the second day now he couldn't find the words to describe you, or the way you make him feel, he just wanted to scream, in a good way. Ji-Yong would calm down after a bit, continuing to try and describe you to the boys, only growing grumpy with the fact he was still at a loss of words. As he made his way back to you, he noticed you looking deeply at the mixer board in front of you, rocking your body to the beat before sliding the left switches up and the right ones down as you switched the song over to a different one as soon as the beat dropped. "Hi! Sorry it took so long!" He shouted over the music as he approached you, your head immediately turned at the sound of his voice "Cutie! There you are!" You smiled happily "I thought you left, I was upset thinking you never said bye!" You laughed softly, resting your hand on his arm gently, causing his blush to return to his cheeks.

Whenever you ended your last gig a few nights later, you gave Ji-Yong a tight hug, knowing it'd be a little while before you were back home "Call me, got it, Cutie?" You stated, pointing at Ji-Yong as he sadly stood next to his friends, even with his dampened mood, you were still successful in making him blush, he nodded softly, trying to offer you a soft smile. "Will you let me know as soon as you're back?" He asked sadly, tugging his sleeves over his hands as he looked at his shoes, you just giggled shaking your head "Of course, cutie" You whispered, lifting his head gently to make eye contact with you, he was quick to cover his face quickly "Wait! I have to get a picture! I can't bare to not see my cutie for three weeks!" You gasped, pulling your phone out, Ji-Yong just covered his face more as he giggled, the slightly new nickname causing his stomach to do flips. As you opened your camera app, you pressed your lips to his cheek smiling, you weren't sure why you were so flirty with him, you weren't like this with any man, they often annoyed you, but there was something about Ji-Yong, he was so adorable and charming, you just always wanted to see how cute he was whenever he'd blush and do that cute smile of his.

Whenever you'd both depart, Ji-Yong would have to hold back tears, the alcohol mixed with his already saddened emotions causing him to feel a lot more towards the goodbye with you. You would be quick to be rushed to another country by your personal manager, who had yet to find out about your new 'friend' you had met.

--

What do we think lovelies? Part two coming really soon because personally I cannot get enough of flustered soft Ji-Yong, maybe even smut in the future? 0.0 what do you think? You like?

--

Taglist!!

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[thedarkestrivernymph]

can we have more of the death yanders kidnapper fic? I really wanna see our life with him

A normal day in your life..

Y! Kidnapper x f! Reader

warnings: forced infantilization, religious themes, mentions of urine, diaper, baby-talk, forced feeding

the fic -> Death

“You have to.”

“No!” you're as stubborn as a petulant child, “I don't want to.” your voice thins until it wavers and you break into yet another sob.

“Sweetheart,” there's another groan before a warm hand brushes over your scalp, scratching up and down your nape as if you're a cat, “You have to eat, sweetie, if you don't, you know what will happen, won't you?”

There's a thickness that swells in your throat, just the thought of doing that ever again is enough to make your palms sweaty and feet itching to run.

“See?” his voice his smug, while his predatory gaze flicks with recognition of weakness. Of your weakness.

“You don't want to be down there again, right baby? I don't want to chain you up, you get all horribly bruised up.” he sighs softly, deeply with new-found hunger in his chestnut colored eyes. He talks soft and sickeningly sweet, as if his mouth had a mind of its own, apart from the actual ravenous beast inside of him that you have come to know so well. “I would hate for your delicate skin to be blemished.”

Another kiss is presses to your forehead, before he lowers his hand to trace over the pendant with his name engraved hanging from your collar. “Say ‘ahh’.” he urges again, lowering his hand to sit at the curve of your waist, keeping you firmly planted on his lap, dressed in unnecessary frill—like a doll. Like you’re his doll. This fucking creep.

The spoon lifts once again and its contents twist your stomach for the second time.

The spoonful is weirdly pink and brown with colorful sprinkles grinded into it. It is clear that it once was cake but now it is this weird odd paste that he, no doubt, put in the mixer because quote “you’re just a baby, babies don't eat real food”.

Yet this time when he seeks entrance, tapping against your bottom lip you open up with tearful eye, allowing the tooth-rootingly sweet to flood your taste buds. Swallowing is even more difficult as his hand creeps up to settle over your sternum, pressing, waiting to feel your throat bob.

“Good girl” you cry at his praise, because an entire bowl full of this slob is staringback at you.

“If you eat up maybe I’ll even let you play with your dolls again, mh?” there's another wave of nausea, as your lungs constrict and your airways tighten, but this time not because of the prospect of punishment if you disobey, but because of the pressure in your lower abdomen.

It's already worse enough that you have to piss literally every two minutes because of how fucking anxious he makes you, is him taking notice of the building pressure in your bladder.

“Sweetheart, oh? Do you have to go potty again?”

he’s so fucking condescending in his speech, so proud about having reduced you to this, that his smile stretches unsettling wide, inhuman, animalistic, vile—in another universe you hope he's a pig brought to slaughter.

You would rather die than pee into the diaper he put you on in front of him, worse, on him.

But suddenly he cups your tummy with one large hand, rubbing and pressing against it. “Come, you can go here.” your face drains of colour again as you grit your teeth, shaking your head in a firm ‘no’. You would rather die of shame then do that.

But he doesn't take no as an answer, he never does. Because you're his, god-given and all, remember? So he starts messaging your stomach, reaching beneath the layers upon layers of frilly blue to reach your navel and ram his grimy fingers into your flesh.

You cry out, jerk around. You may have lost your dignity, you may be kept like an animal but you won't allow this, no, you're still an adult, you're not a child nor an infant, you're capable of controlling your bladder no matter what—

There's something hot. Sticky and fluid. And as you ruin your diaper you, the realisation of what you just did settling in—the betrayal of your body, you cannot help but sob loder, cry, hiccup and mewl, babbling without coherent sentences as your face burns in shame.

And what does he do?

He grins. As always.

“Good job, Sweetheart.” he pressed his lips to your cheek, before he scoops another spoonful from the bowel and raises the the cool silverware to your mouth again.

“Come now finish, then we can get you all cleaned up.” so you do just that, allow him to fed you this sticky repulsing mess, that makes you gag with each swallow, because what else can you do?

And it isn't long before his face dips into your shoulder and he whispers into your skin the very same set of words he's chanted to you since you have awoken to yet another nightmare.

“I love you, sweetheart, so so much. You're my everything, and soon you'll make me the happiest man on earth. God! I am so excited, I can't wait to meet our little one.”

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