#the always sunny cookbook

[dennisboobs]

the gang's introductions from the always sunny in philadelphia cookbook

[absolutely-not-my-main-blog]

It’s so funny to me that like half the recipes in the Paddy’s cookbook are just straight up poison in the actual show, like commit to the bit and add some cough medicine and bath salts for flavouring, cowards /j

[my-love-is-sunlight]

Love recipe

Sanji x gardener!reader

fluff!!!!!!!! Stablished relationship, gn reader, from my gardener!reader series but can be read as a stand alone, I recommend this

Word count: 1.2k

Summary: In which you find Sanji’s cook notebook

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

An endless sea of boxes filled your room in the Sunny, when had you accumulated so much stuff in your time with the strawhats? You didn’t know

You were the kind to keep everything, even the tiniest things held so much memories and meaning that you just couldn’t leave them behind

But you were starting to regret it

A week ago you and Sanji had finally decided to tell the crew that you were dating

After being met with all of your crewmates groans of defeat as they handed a couple berries to Nami you realized maybe you were a little more obvious than you thought

Regardless they were happy and a little relieved that you two had finally settled down

“So is the dumb cook finally moving out? We are tired of you leaving every night to our quarters,” Zoro was quick to ask you looking dead in your bashful eyes, red blush rushing to your face

“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” Sanji screamed at the swordsman in your defense

As much as you tried to brush the matter off or deny the accusations everyone had witnessed how at very ungodly hours of the night you’d slip into Sanjis bed to sleep soundly and turning back to your own at sunrise thinking no one noticed

“OR you can move in with us!” Your Captain chimed in but his idea was immediately shot down by your boyfriend

So he moved in your room, something you were happy about but right now, as you choose what to keep, throw away or store in boxes to make space for Sanji, was giving you a huge headache.

You sat cross legged in the middle of your floor between boxes looking like cat in hiding as Sanji walked in with a couple of more boxes in hand, settling them on the ground glancing at your form and smiling in endearment

“Almost done my love” he spoke up making you bend backwards and smiling at him

“Let me get up and help you with the rest”

“Absolutely not” something about you even lifting a finger in his presence always made him shiver, there was no way he was gonna allow you carry his heavy boxes, he knew you were capable, he just didn’t wanted you to

It was the third time you had offered to help him so you just gave up and giggled before returning to your task as the blonde went back to make yet another trip from the boys quarters to your room

You let out a defeated sigh as you finally finished up choosing everything that you decided to get rid off. As you got up with the box you tripped over the others that surrounded you making you lose balance, in an attempt to save yourself from a nasty fall, one of Sanjis boxes opened and some of his belongings scattered across the floor

“Dammit” carefully you place your box aside as you hastily take your boyfriend’s personal stuff and return them into the box, not wanting Sanji to think you were snooping round his personal belongings

As you delicately put his box aside, a notebook lays on the ground that you seemed to have missed to put away, you take it but instead of storing it, your hands explore the markings on the cover

‘Sanjis cookbook’ it read in his neat handwriting, you smile to yourself before slowly opening it, the notebook was well loved and you didn’t wanted it to break apart at your touch. The pages were filled with different recipes the cook had came up with during the years, it was sweet how noticeable was the change in his notes when he joined the strawhats, suddenly more intricate and lively dishes appearing on its pages. It was obvious how much he enjoyed being the crews cook, this was a trait of him you always had loved and admired. The cook had created dishes, drinks and pastries inspired by every crew member, some just being fun experimental ones, while others attended to their nutritional needs

Some really tasty meat recipes made for Luffy

An orangy strong drink for Nami

Boring rice-balls with a hint of sake for Zoro

Coffee infused pastries for Robin

Chicken a lá Soda for Franky

Taroyaki for Usopp

Sweet cotton candy for Chopper

Curry for Brook

Some of them with your name on it eventually show up but were all about either your diet or changing some ingredients up in meals you didn’t quite like or would upset your stomach, even your favorite vegetable soup was in there with a marking on it with your name. Expectancy bubbled in your stomach as you waited for dishes made not for you, but inspired by you to appear, but as you kept on reading the pages of everyone’s meals except yours a frown plastered on your lips

“Oh” you thought, maybe you weren’t good enough to be Sanji’s muse. Of course you knew he loved you endlessly, he would assure you everyday and you’ll see it in different ways he had to tell you ‘I love you’ without even speaking it.

The way he would patiently show you how to cut ingredients in the kitchen so you could help him and spend quality time, or the names he’d call you that sweetened your days, how he would always be on your call and foot for whatever you wished or needed, the dreamy look you’d spark on his eyes and even just the full on attention he’d offer you, as if you were the only thing in the world

But still, one would think you’ll at least have one dish dedicated to you after all the love he exuded in your presence

As you gave up and started to close the notebook, you saw a page near the end with your name on it, making your eyes grow wide in joy. You open it to find not a dish, but a whole different section of the notebook just for you, the cook had even drawn tiny hearts after your name

Pink dusted your face and a bright smile grew on your lips as you admired the dishes Sanji had crafted with such love and dedication, recognizing some of them and even remembering how he had asked you to taste test them in the past. You were moved, over the moon wasn’t enough of an expression to understand how you were feeling, no one had ever shown this much appreciation for you, small tears peaked at the corner of your eyes of the fullness you felt. How could you ever return such a gesture? Such love declaration that you didn’t even were supposed to know about?

You return the notebook to its rightful place before standing back on your feet and taking your box towards the door that slowly opened revealing your tall blonde handsome of a boyfriend with the last box

“Sorry it took so long sunlight, Luffy asked me for another snack and I ha-“ he was cut off by the biggest warmest hug he had ever received in his life, dropping the box as your hands found a spot on his neck and your lips pecked his before hiding your face in his neck, your feet tip toeing so you could reach

The action took Sanji by surprise, making him blush and stand frozen in place at your sudden affection that he still found difficult to come around, always being used to be the more affectionate one until you showed up and made him know how much loved he deserved back

“Is everything alright my love?”

“Yes darling, everything’s amazing”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Omg they’re back I’m so happy!!!! Hope you enjoy and remember you can request anything you wanna see about these two or just anything One Piece related technically

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

imagine teasing Sanji and Zoro

throuple fluff

Sunny’s kitchen was filled with the smell of rosemary and thyme; dinner was being cooked and when you walked in the cutest cook in all the seas greeted you with a warm, tender smile. Sanji beckoned you over to him, right arm held out ready to receive a hug while the other hand kept busy searing the steaks that were cooking. “How was shopping with Nami and Robin, love?”

Slipping into his embrace, your nose nuzzled into his chest, and he kissed the top of your head. The two of you stood there as you told him about all the shops you had gone to – the bookstore, where you picked up a cookbook for him. He was elated that you even thought of him, and your head leaned back to give him a glare. “I always think about you all the time, silly.”

Sanji’s eyes glistened with warmth just as the kitchen door swung open and Zoro appeared, wearing one of the new black tees you had picked out for him. He glanced at the way Sanji was holding you, making his way to the fridge. “I need a cold drink, it’s hot out there.”

“I put a few drinks in the freezer for you.”

“How thoughtful, Sanji.” He blushed when you kissed him on the cheek and when you went to kiss him again, he turned his head to capture the kiss on his lips. You laughed, nipping at his bottom lip before feeling a different arm come around your waist. Sanji released you, focusing on the steaks while Zoro came from behind you; slipping a bottle of ale in your hand as he buried his nose into the nape of your neck. He grumbled about the weather again as you popped open the bottle for him. “Drink up, sweetie.”

Without looking, you knew Zoro’s cheeks were bruised maroon when he kissed your neck before moving to your side. He took the drink and thanked you, promptly asking when the food would be ready.

“Patience is a virtue, Mosshead.”

“Stop being so slow, cook.”

Ignoring them, you pushed past them as they started to argue; retrieving the dinner plates, hardly registering what the two men were bickering about. This happened at least twice a day both most times, they were decent to each other – they actually adored each other in ways they would never openly admit but you were the only one privileged to witness such miracles. Setting the plates down on the counter, you turned to Zoro and Sanji and swiftly smacked their bottoms with such gravity, they both jumped.  They both turned to you with blushed expressions, and you laughed. “Ah, so that’s how I can get you two to shut up? Duly noted. I need to go unpack my purchases; I’ll be back for dinner. “

You moved in between the two; hand resting on Zoro’s chest as you leaned in to kiss Sanji, who placed a hand on your waist. His kisses were always gentle and delicate. Reaching down for the cook’s hand, you moved your attention to Zoro. He always was so serious looking but when your lips pressed against his, you could feel him relax. The swordsman’s kisses were always so eager and a little rough – both men equally satisfying in their own ways. Releasing your hold on both men, you left the room and they stood silent for a moment before Sanji resumed cooking. Zoro took a long sip of his ale before eyeing Sanji with a smirk.

“We’re going to get her back for that, right?”

Sanji looked up from the pan, thanking Zoro when he handed him one of the bottles from the freezer. He cracked the top off and snorted. “Oh, she’s definitely not going to be able to walk tomorrow morning.”

Zoro laughed then, a wicked little laugh, and held out his bottle. Sanji clicked his bottle against Zoro’s and the two men laughed, neither willing to confess out loud how badly their asses felt but both eager to return the favor.

[kaisers-house-of-desires]

Hello I hope you don't mind me requesting again (●’◡’●)ﾉ

But if you don't mind could I request byakuya togami x male reader that acts like Jamil viper

You can choose the kinks again, but could m!reader be bottom, and can it still be in the killing game and m!reader can be the ultimate butler?

-Sunny

Of course not, Sunny! A request that I can manage is a request that will be fulfilled~!

I do apologize if this is lackluster, but Byakuya is not a character I feel too much when writing. I do hope you enjoy this nonetheless!

Title: Yes, Sir

Characters: Top!Byakua Togami x Bottom!m!reader(Ultimate Butler)

Contains: Dom/Sub dynamic, bondage, fingering, spanking

Fandom: Danganronpa

Full request below the cut

All characters are 18+

MINORS, FEM ALIGNED, AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI

Reblogs > likes

Ever since Byakuya discovered your talent, he has requested that you serve him. Though that's not to say you were thrilled by the notion of that.

You were actually fought over by him and Celeste near the start of the game. Celeste insisted you stay with her, as she deemed herself high enough to have a servant, but Byakua insisted the same. You weren't sure how you ended up with him in the end, but that's how it came to be, never having a choice in the matter like usual.

You two were in the library. Byakuya was researching multiple things when he decided it would be better to take a break from that. He handed the book that he had found on the desk from his previous session and had you put it away.

"Yes, sir." You took the book, automatically checking the cover to see where it would go on the shelves.

"Bring me something...exciting."

"Any specific genre, sir?"

"No, whatever suits your fancy."

Sure, make it harder for me...

You scoured she shelves, trying to find something that would entice him. In the end, you decided on a cookbook. Sure it was an odd choice, but when skimming through them before, it was always somewhat exciting to see all sorts of different dishes.

You haded Byakuya the book, but when he read the cover, only his eyes moved to you. "A cookbook?"

"I personally find different recipies and food items exciting, sir."

Byakuya sighed, putting the book down on the desk. "Actually...I think I have something else in mind for a destressor."

"...And...what would that be, sir?"

"Give me your tie."

You stayed still for a moment, sighing before obliging. You undid your tie, giving it to Byakuya. He spun you around, grabbing your hands and pinning them behind you as he tied them together. When finished, pushed you over the desk with a small grunt. You were now positioned for him.

"I don't know where you get off thinking a cookbook would be an exciting read."

"Y-You said to pick something that suited my--"

"Is that back talk, (y/n)?"

"N-No, sir, I was just--"

"Silence." Byakuya undid the tie that he wore himself wrapping it over your mouth and tying it behind your head. When he was out of sight, you scowled from the action. This guy...so full of himself...you hated that you had to serve him, especially receiving a punishment like this, but a talent is a talent, and with expectations come punishments.

Byakuya removed your pants and boxers, and you were ashamed to admit your cock was already hardening from all of this. You swore you could hear the smirk through a hum as he noted your shaft, now spreading your ass to get a good view.

To your surprise, he slipped in his thumb, earining him a soft moan from the small stretching. He gently pushed in and out, working out your ass. You tried writhing around a bit, but Byakuya quickly stopped you with a slap to your ass.

"Sit still."

You wanted to growl out against the gag, but instead disguised it as a groan, obeying as Byakuya continued to work you out. Once he was satisfied, he removed his thumb and inserted his middle and ring finger, causing you to arch your back a bit with a whine.

"So far, I'd say you're behaving quite well. Maybe this will teach you to take my commands seriously next time."

You tried to fight the blissful feeling, trying to keep yourself in check, but you couldn't. You nodded with a moan, your brows furrowing as he pushed his fingers deeper. Your moans became more consistent as you rested your head on the desk, all external sense of yourself starting to fade. You accepted your fate, but you wouldn't make this mistake again.

"I'd say you're about ready now...What do you think, (y/n)?"

You nodded eagerly, spreading your legs further for Byakuya.

He smirked at the sight of you, noting to remember this as he pulled his cock from his pants, positioning himself at your hole. He didn't miss a beat, filling you nice and deep right away. You arched your back once more, legs trembling against him.

Byakuya held onto your shoulders, using you as leverage to thrust into you as deep as he could go. Despite being told to stay still, you rocked your hips back into him, though Byakuya didn't seem to have an issue this time. The two of you grunted into the air, disturbing the silent library environment. You were thankful that no one else was here, and should a murder occur, you had your alibi, so with that in mind, you let yourself go.

It didn't take long before your moans began to pitch, signalling that you were approaching your climax. Byakuya was well aware, and picked up the speed, for once indulging you instead of him. Your cock was rigid against the desk, and with one final thrust, the side was painted white along with the inside of you.

The two of you panted heavily, relishing in the afterglow of the moment. Though you enjoyed it, you stilled noted to take his requests a little more seriously

Or...

Who knows.

You had to admit this was fun. It wouldn't hurt to get yourself like this again, right?

[somewherebetweendisorder]

The Life We Build

Jason Todd x fem!reader

Warnings: angst, fluff ?? i think that's it

A/N: originally posted to my old blog (basicallybats). i was originally writing it as an eddie munson fic, but i really wanted it to be jason, so if you notice any typos or mistakes, no you don't. as always, thank you for reading! <3 i do not give permission to copy, repost, or use my work in any way.

~

"We need to go to the grocery store."

Your hands are buried in Jason's hair, thick waves curling around your fingers, soft and smelling faintly of your conditioner.

"Huh? Why?"

He tips his head back, so he can see your face, fingers freezing, a page caught between them. You recognize the book. It's your annotated copy of Pride and Prejudice. A soft smile curls at your lips, something painfully saccharine about the fact he prefers your copy; your thoughts.

"Because we have no food, Jay. Did you use my conditioner again?"

"Yeah."

"I know. I can smell it on you."

He snorts, eyes closing as you continue to massage his scalp, shaking his head lightly. "Then why did you ask?"

"I just wanted you to 'fess up. Now c'mon, we need to get food, for real. There's like, half a jar of peanut butter and a beer."

"Sounds like a decent enough dinner."

You remove your hands from his soft locks, and he whines, sitting up and carefully setting your book on the bed beside him. Jason doesn't want to go, you know that, can see the distaste and boredom brewing in his eyes already, but he will go, for you.

"Fine. Get dressed. Let's go."

You pull on an old, well-worn tee of his, slipping on your shoes and trailing him down the hall. He holds open the front door for you, locks it behind himself, jogs down the stairs to meet you at the passenger side door, swinging it open with a flourish.

The drive to the store is quiet, Jason tapping the steering wheel to the beat of the music on the radio, bobbing his head gently, one hand on your thigh. The smile on your face didn't go unnoticed as he snuck glances at you out of the corner of his eyes.

Gotham is a god-forsaken place. Smog, trash, the highest crime rate in the nation, and a mile-long list of casualties. Jason remembers what it felt like to be back. The whisper of trauma is at the forefront of his mind. The memories, good and bad, all shot through with something unshakeably bitter. Part of him will always love Gotham, just as part of him will always hate it. But you- You are beautiful. The sort of beautiful that frequently had his heart stalling, breath burning in his lungs when he forgot how to breathe at the sight of your sunny smile, and bright eyes. Your personality and laugh, uncensored and genuine.

You are Jason's diamond in the rough. He can't bring himself to hate Gotham quite the way he did before you, but he can't shake the thought that you'll never reach your full potential here. A flower without enough sunlight can't fully bloom. Fuck, everyone knows Gotham is where good things go to die.

As Jason grabs a shopping cart you walk next to him, sliding your arm through his, a sort of camaraderie.

"We should make a casserole this week," you suggest, eyes reading the signs above the aisles, trying to piece together a meal plan in your head.

"What kind of casserole?"

You sigh, distracted, uncertain. "I don't know. Never mind. I've never even made a casserole."

He bumps his hip against yours gently, silently asking for your attention. He waits until you look at him to speak, lips twitching into a soft smile. "We have that cookbook your grandma gave us. And lasagna counts as a casserole. You've made that plenty of times."

"Does it?"

"Sure."

He's bent on reassurance. Jason knows this is new; cooking is hardly your forte. It would be easier to let him do the cooking, but you've been so eager, and you're taking to it really well. He hates the insecurity bubbling in your voice, he wants it gone. At his insistence, you soften, a bit of tension leaving your shoulders as you nod.

"Okay, we can make lasagna. And what else?"

Your gaze catches on the fresh flowers, bright and fragrant, their sweet smell permeating the air. You look at Jason, desperately curious to see if they've caught his attention too, but they haven't. He's looking at a rack of magazines, leather jacket pulled taught across his shoulders, green eyes crinkling in the corners as he squints at the cover of the newest scandal magazine.

"Good God, Dick is on the cover of another fucking tabloid. I thought he-"

It's an odd thought, this sudden need to pick out flowers with your boyfriend. You long to talk about where you should put them, what color would match your sofa and look nicest in front of the window.

"Jason."

It's not the fact you use his name, his birth name, though this is unusual for you. It's always 'baby' or 'Jay' or 'babes'. No, it's the way you say it. Thick and serious, something he hadn't quite heard before, an almost severe expression taking over your pretty features.

"Y/N? Yeah, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing, just- Can we get some flowers?" He watches you shake your head, trying to clear the cobwebs.

It's the domesticity of it. A tender, mundane thing catching up to you as those things often do. Something painfully sweet about it, stability your life lacked until Jason. And now? Now going to the grocery store with him was better than anything you did before. Like cooking, like cleaning, like laying in bed all day, face pressed mercilessly into his skin, breathing him in as he reads to you, just because you could. It was an insatiable craving, one you needed fulfilled right now.

"Sure, baby. You wanna pick some out?"

Your nod is almost imperceptible, arm still curled around his, goosebumps creeping along your flesh. He sees. Sees the light in your eyes, knows you need this moment. Jason knows that every day like this erases those brutally lonely hours from before. Minutes marked with blood and grief, a bitter memory. He knows because these moments do the same for him, setting things right he wasn't sure could be fixed.

Fuck, he'll buy all the flowers here if it brings the carefree smile back to your lips. "What kind do you want?"

"I- I'm not sure. Anything. I'll know the right ones when I see 'em."

He peruses the bouquets, at a loss, this is far outside his comfort zone, but if it makes you happy.

Your wonder hurts his heart, wide eyes and shock every time you find new colors squished together, or flowers you haven't seen before. You should have been given flowers all the time. He checks the price of the bunch in his hands and winces. What he wouldn't give to buy you flowers like this every day. Maybe he should, he thinks.

"How about these?"

Your eyes fall on the wild bouquet of rich, wine roses, flowers in full bloom, overlapping each other, fighting for the gaze of the beholder. They're gorgeous, you can feel them without touching the silken petals, velvet. "They're nice."

He sees it on your face, the dismissal, the gentle rejection. The flowers are pretty, too pretty even, gaudy, and suffocating. They're the type of thing that would fit well in Bruce's home, but not yours. Far too formal, far too showy; you want something sweeter.

"They don't match… Anything at home."

"We'd have to pick weeds to match our apartment."

His words come too fast, voice flat, deadpan, shooting for humor, missing, falling by the wayside in a shallow bitterness. He sees the hurt in your expression the instant the words gush past his lips, a geyser of ill-timed distress. Fumbling, rushing forward, trying to make it right, he presses on. "I'm kidding. That was an exaggeration. We make a nice life. It's just we-"

He stops, letting the chatter of other patrons and the store radio fill the silence as he watches tears build in your eyes, shimmering beneath the harsh fluorescents.

"I'm kidding."

You know he wasn't. He meant the words, frustrated with dead-end jobs and your meager incomes, scraping by with just enough. He wanted more for you, more for himself, more of a future. But all you heard was the immediate dissatisfaction. It wasn't enough, it was never enough.

You shove the small cluster of sunflowers you're holding into his chest, plastic wrapping crinkling, flowers smushed against his chest with the severity of your action.

"I need to use the restroom. You can put these back. I'll meet you at the checkout."

"Baby I- Y/N!"

You run. There's not enough care in your bones to think about how odd it is for a grown woman to be running through the store, stumbling into the restroom, tears already tracking down her face.

Hands braced against the cool countertop, you stare at the water droplets scattered across the laminate from whoever last washed their hands. It's a fascinating pattern, water catching the light. A tear falls, splatters on the surface, and shines too. How pathetic are you that you're hiding in here, waiting for the onslaught of emotion to pass before you can face your boyfriend again? Before you can face his disdain?

Minutes drag by, the tears slowing and finally stopping. Red eyes stare back at you, bloodshot and hollow. With a harsh tug, you turn on the faucet, splashing cool water on your face, hoping it soothes the obvious signs of crying.

Time is up, you can't stall any longer. With a fortifying gulp of oxygen, you drag the paper towel harshly across your face, wiping away the water, and push the door open. Jason is waiting there, shopping cart abandoned a few feet away, leaning against the wall, local business cards pinned to the wall next to store notices, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

"Baby."

You're frozen, eyes locked on the overlapping flyers and cards on the wall over his shoulder, unable to meet his gaze. Jason can see it. The remnants of salt tracks on your cheeks, eyes red and puffy, lashes clumped together from the water you hastily splashed on your face in a harried attempt to cover your reaction. 

He wishes he could rewind, take back the past few minutes, and unsay those words, spare you the heartache. He knows he can't; it's a pointless wish, spent in vain like the coins he tossed in the well with his mother all those years ago. 

"Baby," he repeats, voice low, shoulders sagging when you ignore him. "Y/N, just look at me, please."

His voice isn't him, isn't Jason, viscid like a flower soaked with dew, drooping beneath his regret. He's too pretty, too serious, you shouldn't let him wallow in it, you know that. But his words were too real, too close to that oozy, rotten spot in your heart that cries for acceptance. 

It takes everything in you to drag your gaze to his, jarring when you meet those eyes, deep and sorry, churning like an earthen ocean, soil and sediment devouring itself. It's like watching the earth cave in. It's alarming, unsettling, it makes you want to touch his face and beg for the promise that it's all okay. 

Is it though?

"I'm sorry. What I said- It came out wrong. I would never insult the life we've built, I-"

"You did though, Jay. You did insult it. You pissed all over it."

Jason winces at your bluntness, nearly an idiom, yet far from it. He focuses on your words, playing them over and over, watching your lips twist sardonically, building a wall around yourself. "It's fine, okay? I get it."

"No, you don't." He finds his voice, gruff with the nasty feeling building in his stomach, unable to be gentle in the wake of his own despondency. 

"Can we just go home? I don't want to have this conversation here."

Movements stilted, uncoordinated he moves to the abandoned shopping cart, hands wrapping around the handle in a white-knuckled grip. He takes two steps, yanks the cart back, and turns to you so abruptly that you nearly collide with his chest. 

"No. No, we are going to have this conversation now, otherwise you'll never have it. You know damn well I wasn't insulting you, or our home, or our life."

Blank-faced, eyes a hollow shade of their usual verdancy, you don't show any sign you really heard his words. 

He's never felt this before, desperate and shaky with wanting- no needing you to understand. Why does this feel so insurmountable? His hands land on your shoulders, large, hot, scarred, shaking just enough to inspire a rise out of you. 

You swat his hands away, fresh tears burning tracks down your face, humiliating, telling. "I care, okay! Damn you, Jason, I care!"

You suck in air too fast, choke on it, a strangled sob dancing on your lips, free falling. Hands useless on his chest, feigning a shove, curling in his soft tee shirt and pulling him closer. Tucked away in your little nook, no one is around, no one sees the mania tainting the air. Lovers begging forgiveness for the transgression of misunderstanding. 

He buries his face in your hair, hiding his face, hiding his relief at your touch, at your admission. "I care too. I care that I've tied you to this hell hole with almost no chance of getting out."

"You don't get it, do you?"

Jason can barely hear, your voice smothered by his chest, the fabric of his shirt, his hearing a bit unreliable from too many head wounds. "Get what?"

"I don't want more. I don't want... I don't know what you envision, but my happiness is this. Buying groceries with you and, and- Gotham. My happiness is fucking Gotham if I'm here with you. I don't need-"

"You deserve-"

"Do not interrupt me, Jason Todd!"

He recoils, stung, chastised, conceding quickly, lips pressed into a thin line. "Okay."

"I do not need anything more. I don't need a big house or a safer city to play in or whatever it is you think I ought to have. Deserve? I don't even know what that means. But I want you, and I'm content with this life. Until you start picking it apart and making it seem like it's not good enough for you. I cannot tolerate that. I won't." 

He waits, the silence stretching on and on, like the fraying string on a shirt that refuses to snap, until he is certain you're finished.

"You're right."

"That's all?"

"No. It's much more than that. But-"

He releases you, feeling your hands release his shirt slowly, confused as he steps back, raking his hands through his hair. 

"You asked me so nicely for flowers. Let's start again. And we can finish at home, like you asked."

You blink. Once, twice, three times, trying to process, waiting to see if any argument floats to the surface of thought, but none does. Nodding, you step to his side, following him quietly to the tables of flowers once more. 

It happens at the same moment, your eyes find the simple bunch of sunflowers and baby's breath the second his do. Understated and sweet, the type of flowers to catch your eye and hold it with a strange fascination. 

"These?" you ask, eyes never leaving the buds, fingers tentatively caressing the soft petals. 

"Yeah. I like those. They're pretty."

They are pretty. And suddenly, you need to see him, touch him. Placing the bouquet back you turn to him, cool hands pressed to his warm cheeks, eyes tracing soft lips, and the strong line of his nose. Those eyes that say secret things to you, things his lips could never speak. The panic and overwhelming nature of the trip are still fresh in your mind, but his eyes say he understands, his eyes reflect the same image as yours and it's less. Less upsetting, less frustrating, less misconstrued. 

"I get it too."

Your words soothe the cuts on his heart, shallow and stinging like paper cuts. His lips are on yours before he knows what's happening, no self-control left at this moment.

It's over too fast, a promise, a vow, an apology. You know; you feel it, trying to pass over all of your love in return. It's enough, more than enough because he smiles when he pulls away, kisses a trail up your nose to your forehead, and into your hairline. 

"I love you, Jay."

"I love you, Y/N."

Gotham isn't much, your apartment isn't much, and a single bouquet of flowers in your drab little living room is hardly anything at all. But it's plenty for you, plenty for Jason. It's enough. 

[helios-writings]

Stupid in Love

Sanji x gn! Reader

Wc: 1.8k

Warnings: none

You’ve been in love with Sanji for a long time, but have never been brave enough to do anything about it, until now.

The breeze brushes against your face as you stare out at the blue sea, the rising sun peaking out above the horizon. You were up earlier than the rest of the crew, wanting to watch the sunrise before the day dove into chaos, as it was bound to do when Luffy was awake. You watch the rest of the stars disappear and then climb down from the crow’s nest, ready to begin your day.

You always woke up earlier than the rest of the crew, cherishing the alone time you got in the morning silence, the waves crashing against the Sunny being the only sound filling the air. You took a deep breath, letting the salty air wash over you, before the yelling started.

“Luffy, get out of the kitchen!” Sanji shouts, followed by the crashing of pans.

“But I’m hungry!” Your captain whines, and you laugh, before heading into the kitchen to herd him elsewhere.

“You should ask Nami about where we head next, I hear there’s a port nearby.” You tell Luffy, who grins in response before running off to bother the navigator.

Sanji sighs. “Thanks. Have you been awake long?”

You flush. “Who? Me? No.”

He cracks a smile like he doesn’t believe you and hands you a glass full of something to drink. “Well, you are welcome in here any time, as long as you clean up your mess.”

“Don’t worry about any mess from me! I’m as clean as they come, haha.”

You turn to walk out, run into the doorframe and contemplate walking into the sea, wishing you had eaten a devil fruit so you could drown. There was something about Sanji that made your brain short circuit and disconnect from your mouth, letting it run unattended.

“Are you….okay?”

You’re almost certain there’s a mark on your forehead from the door, but you wave him off. “Never been better.”

You are definitely walking into the ocean when you make port, it’ll be less embarrassing in the long run.

Making your way from the kitchen, you run into Zoro, who is desperately trying to hold back his laughter. “That was-”

“Say one more word and you’ll be tied to the front of the ship as the new figurehead.”

He doesn’t take your threat seriously. “You’re this flustered over curly brow in there? Unbelievable.”

“I hate you. So much.”

He’s still cackling as you walk away, and you definitely don’t deserve Zoro to understand what you see in the cook, but Sanji was…..he was amazing.

You saw parts of him that no one ever did, like when you helped him in the kitchen and he hummed softly to himself, sleeves pushed up to his elbows as he washed the dishes. When you accidentally cut yourself with a knife and he doctored it right there, eyebrows furrowed in concentration but you were only focused on the impossible blue of his eyes, always focused on his eyes. Sanji was kind and gentle and brave, but no one else could see that.

Soon enough, the crew made port and you went ashore alone, desperate to avoid Sanji(and the more annoying Zoro) but mostly to find something to give to the cook, if you could sync your brain with your mouth long enough to have a meaningful conversation with the man. But what would you get him? He didn’t use cookbooks, and he bought his own ingredients(not that you’d know where to start, being as you wouldn’t be able to know what were good quality ingredients).

He wasn't a jewelry guy either, though he would wear it beautifully but then you remember a conversation the both of you had a few months ago.

Sanji sets the knife down on the cutting board with more force than necessary, startling you. He laughs lightly and apologizes.

“I need new knives, but I keep forgetting to buy any when we make port. Would you remind me?”

You flush and nod furiously but say nothing, just watch as he picks up the knife and starts chopping again.

You grin and make your way towards a stall you passed a few minutes ago, now certain that you were getting Sanji the perfect gift. At least you hoped so.

***

You were the first one back to the ship, box in tow, leaving it in the kitchen where you knew he would find it. You had decided that you didn’t have the courage to give them to him yourself, but hoped he didn’t think much of it. Maybe he would think one of the other crew members gave them to him.

Proud of yourself, you climb up the crow’s nest again to look at the stars, always seeming brighter when you make port. You hum to yourself as you do so, leg bouncing in anticipation. What if he hates them? Or he tells you that he doesn’t want to talk to you anymore? Were you risking your friendship over a set of knives?

Just as you had decided to return them, you heard the crew clambering back on deck and you curse, crouching low so they don’t see you. It works, because they soon start asking each other about your whereabouts. They don’t seem especially worried, since it’s a safe town and you’re more than capable of handling yourself, but it’s nice to know they care, even if they tease you.

The crew goes their separate ways, and the cook finally heads into the kitchen to start prepping for dinner and that’s when you begin making your way towards the lower decks.

You almost make it when he comes back and spots you. “Oh, there you are!”

You turn and grin. “Here I am, haha. What do you have there?”

You gesture to the box, though you already know its contents.

Sanji beams, and it’s so bright you fear you may go blind. “Knives! I don’t know where they came from, but they’re gorgeous.” He takes on out to show you.

It is gorgeous, that being the main reason you purchased them. A beautiful pearl handle, topped with a gorgeous steel blade. You knew he’d love them, even if your brain wanted to argue.

“That is really pretty, Sanji.”

“Did you leave them? I know we talked about knives a while back.”

This is your chance.

You shake your head no and shrug. “Sorry, wasn’t me, but I hope you find who left them soon.”

His face almost falls at the aspect of you not being the gift giver. “Oh, well, whoever it was picked out a really nice set.”

You smile at him as he bids you goodbye and you curse yourself for not telling him the truth. Oh well, you suppose it’s better than him rejecting you outright. It was kind of nice, leaving him anonymous gifts.

He seemed happy to receive it, but it was always nice to see him happy, especially since it seemed to be a rare sight most days. You wanted to continue making him happy.

***

A few days later, Zoro joined you in the crow’s nest before dinner.

“You know, the shit cook really wanted those knives to be from you.”

“Huh?”

He rolls his one eye. “You’re not serious.”

You say nothing.

“You are. The cook’s been staring at you and sighing hopelessly for days, it’s really pissing me off.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“He told Robin the other day he wanted it to be you. Plus, the whole crew can see that you two are in love with each other. Even Luffy.”

“I’m not going to take romantic advice from you of all people. Sanji and I are friends. Really good friends, a friend I have no intentions of confessing to.”

Zoro sighed, leaning his arms against the wood. “Do you remember when we got into that fight with that gang of bandits a few months ago? And you got injured real bad and were unconscious for what, three days?”

“Of course. Why?” You thought he was just changing the subject.

“Curls was the one taking care of you while you were out, making sure you drank water, helping Chopper clean and dress your wounds, sitting on a chair in the infirmary while you slept, he was really worried.”

You open your mouth to object, to say anything other than what was going through your head but he cuts you off.

“And don’t you say he would do it for any one of us, because that’s bullshit. Now go down there and tell him how you feel.”

The swordsman pushes you towards the ladder and you begrudgingly climb down and head for the kitchen. It wasn’t like Zoro to lie, in fact he was the most honest man you knew, so you knew he had to be telling the truth.

You knock softly on the door before you enter and find Sanji beaming at you. “Hey, what brings you by?”

“I….I think we should talk.”

He sets the towel on the edge of the sink. “Okay.”

You wring your hands as you sit on the counter, something that the cook used to object to but now has accepted as a quirk of yours. He leans next to you.

“I did buy you the knives. I was too scared to give them to you myself so I left them in here for you to find.”

“Why didn’t you say something when I asked?”

You aren’t looking at his face but you can feel his gaze burning you. “I really fucking like you, Sanji. It actually makes me stupid because I like you so much. You’re just so incredibly caring and strong and I like being around you because you make me happy and I didn’t want to ruin anything by telling you that.”

“You wouldn’t have ruined anything.” He tells you, voice impossibly soft.

“You sure?”

He takes your face in his hands, and you are trapped in the impossible blue of his eyes once again. “I’m certain, because I feel the same way.”

You laugh a little wetly as he kisses your hand and then your cheek before finally meeting your lips. It’s a little sloppy, but you have nothing to compare it to. You know he doesn’t either, and he told you as such one late night in the kitchen.

He pulls away grinning, cheeks a little red. “That was…nice.”

You lay your head on his shoulder. “Yeah.”

The two of you get one quiet moment before the crew charges in to tease you and you yelp as Franky wraps a particularly large arm around you and ruffles your hair, while the rest of the crew begins to tease Sanji for getting up to no good in his kitchen.

He yells and scolds them all while you laugh, and then when he makes eye contact with you over the chaos he smiles and everything is as it should be. Perfect.

[thus-spoke-lo]

For your requests :3c

Do you remember that show Silent Library? Something like that but sexy.

"Sexy Silent Library"--the newest late-night program in the North Blue, airing over projector snails near you! (I'm sorry...lmao)

CW: NSFW/18+; afab!reader [no pronouns used]; vaginal fingering; kinda soft-dom Sanji if you squint WC: 698

“Darling,” Sanji admonishes you sweetly while he lazily drags a fingertip up and down your arm, “you missed a step in the preparations portion, make sure you get everything.”

“Sorry.” You swallow hard and a shiver runs down your spine. “I think maybe I’m just going a little too fast.”

The library in this village is vast, the shelves of cookbooks stuffed to capacity, and you promised to tag along with Sanji and help him transcribe as many of the recipes as possible. Not that he needed to, of course, he boasted a bit while you strolled through town, cigarette dangling precariously from his lips as he spoke, but having a vast repertoire was always a great benefit to any chef, no matter how experienced—and perhaps, if you were particularly interested, he could show you some new techniques when you arrived back at the Sunny.

You suddenly have a very clear picture of the kinds of techniques Sanji intends to teach you the longer your sit together at the table in the back of the study room, his methods apparent in the way he moves his chair next to yours, how he bites at his lower lip and gazes at you hungrily through the mess of blonde hair hanging in his face. The fingertip tracing patterns over your forearm becomes a hand caressing your upper back, then a palm placed on the back of your neck, squeezing it gently.

“Sanji, knock it off, you’re gonna distract me,” you grumble half-heartedly for show.

“Oh, am I?” His hand moves down your back, across the plush of your hip, then slides under the table and settles gently on your thigh, his fingertips lightly pressing into the exposed skin just above your knee.

“Sanji!” you gasp, quickly clamping your hand over your mouth.

“Hush now, my darling, you’re going to attract attention,” he whispers as his soft hand creeps up your leg, pushing up under the hem of your skirt as he glances around the room at the few other patrons spread out at other tables. “Let’s see how well you do with some real distraction.”

Sanji’s hand reaches the apex of your thighs, and he inhales sharply when he discovers the damp heat awaiting him, a patch of wetness growing in the gusset of your underwear.

“My, my, mon bijou,” he quietly marvels, “already wet from just a little teasing? You really are a dream, you know.”

He presses against the dampened fabric, and makes slow, unhurried motions over your clit, smirking at every little sigh that he earns from you, clucking his tongue when those sighs start to become moans. Two fingers push your panties aside and he slides them inside you, subtly pumping them in and out while he watches you; he rests his chin in his hand and nods every now and again, pointing at the pages in the book, silently reminding you that your task was transcription, not pleasure. Your hips gently rock against his hand, matching his deliberate rhythm, and you clench the pencil in your hand so tightly it threatens to snap as you feel a warm, familiar heat start to spread through your lower body, a delicious tension building in your core. All of a sudden, he stills his motions, and slowly, torturously, pulls his fingers out of you, a smug grin settling on his lips.

“Sanji,” you whine in a whisper as he tugs down the hem of your skirt. “Why’d you stop?”

“Because, my sweet,” he smirks as he licks your sticky wetness from the tips of his fingers, “you’ve missed at least three-quarters of that recipe, and what you did write, I can’t even read.”

You glance down and can’t help but laugh a little at the nearly-empty page, your handwriting an unintelligible scrawl.

Sanji leans in and the tip of his tongue caresses the shell of your ear while one lean arm snakes around your waist. His breath is warm against your skin, his tone suddenly ravenous as he whispers, “Get it right this time, angel, and we’ll find somewhere a little more private so I can hear every beautiful sound that falls from your lips, c’est bon?”

[skribbyposts]

HELLO AGAIN!!1111!!!! based off of @bidisastersanji's post about Sanji not being able to sit like a normal person (its cause hes a homo). i kind of took the hc and ran w it but thats okay hee hee

Also from Law's pov bc i love him so much and i wanted to try!! hope yall enjoy!!!!!!!!&!%@^#&^(!*#^$W yeah

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Law prides himself on being a very observant person.

It seems he wasn't looking hard enough when he made the mistakes that led him here, sulking under an umbrella on the deck of Luffy's ship.

After Dressrosa, Law was never supposed to see his crew again. That plan was thrown out the window by a certain straw-hatted pirate, and now he's hitching a ride to Zou with this absolute circus that is Luffy's crew.

It's been a week since Law came aboard, and the more he looks, things get weirder and weirder. Specifically, their chef.

The first time they met, the man was well-mannered, minus his attitude towards women and cigarette habit. However, Law finds him ever more strange after every interaction they have on the Sunny.

------

The first time Law notices something off is when he happens on Sanji in the galley. He understands being awake in the wee hours of the night, but not like this.

Law finds the man still fully dressed in his three-piece at three in the morning, sitting - no, crouching - on his chair and poring over a cookbook. His cigarette dangles loosely from his mouth as he mutters something unintelligible to himself and brings his knees together to rest his chin on top of them.

What the fuck, Law thinks, and as if the chef heard his internal monologue, a blonde head whips around to face him standing at the door.

Sanji's wide-eyed, slightly disheveled face stares back at him, and his neck is uncomfortably craned so he can look directly at Law. The pair look at each other awkwardly, and after a moment of silence he just...closes the door.

This is not Law's ship. It is none of his business, and he will go back to the men's quarters to sleep.

-----

This keeps happening the longer Law stays on Luffy's ship, and every day he notices how rarely the Sunny's resident cook takes a break. In addition to that, he also can't help but notice exactly how Sanji chooses to rest.

Whether he's chatting with Robin in the library the lawn or napping with the swordsman on the lawn, it's always with one leg up on the seat, both slung over the back of a chair, or contorted into a position that shouldn't be humanly possible.

Law finds it mildly concerning, but no one else on the crew seems to mind when Sanji stops bustling for half a second and decides to perch himself somewhere (not unlike a gargoyle, Law thinks), so he leaves it alone.

---

Once, he spots the chef sleeping on deck with Zoro, but... upside down. As in, the swordsman is leaning on the mast and Sanji is resting his feet on Zoro's shoulders while his back is on the ground. It looks extremely uncomfortable. He also spots Zoro crack open his eye to peer down at the man, before closing it with a very resigned expression on his face and a light dusting of pink on his cheeks.

Again, this is not his ship and Law most certainly does not want to open that can of worms right now. He leaves the two in peace and hopes they figure it out by themselves.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ik its not the best but this has been in my drafts for like a week and if i dont post it now im gonna forget about it for like three months so... you guys can have it yeah !! i didn't proofread this either so please lmk if there are mistakes

ANYWAYS Spawned a brand new hc that bc Sanji was locked up for like 5 years he had to teach himself stuff and develops the muscle memory for it wrong and just self-corrects in front of other ppl after learning the right way to do it. i might explore that in a longer fic at a later date, we'll see.

ALSO!!!! by popular demand(read: one person) im gonna start posting on my ao3 soon. you can find it here and all my zosan ficlets will be compiled into a series soon! watch out for that yall

[pineappleciders]

Could you do omori x reader thats rich and spoils them with gifts and trips and stuff? 💛Thanks

A/N: i already did this with aubrey but i'm gonna redo her part cuz it was awhile ago

RW OMORI characters with a rich S/O who spoils them

includes: SUNNY, AUBREY, KEL, HERO, MARI, and BASIL

SUNNY

SUNNY hates it

not because he doesn't like gifts or money or anything, but he truly thinks he doesn't deserve it. you can spoil anyone in the world, why him?

he'll get flustered and look away mumbling "thanks" if you hand him a gift

concerned as to why you can just. blow money on him

he'll accept these things, because he doesn't want to be rude, but it's still awfully embarrassing . he has no idea how he scored someone like you

he wants to scream into his pillow whenever u show up to his house with his favorite drink/food

tries to go all out and hand-make you gifts for your birthday and such but he feels bad since it can never out-do your gifts

he's kinda scared you're gonna betray him and you're trying to get on his good side or something, so it helps if u reassure him you just love him a whole lot

AUBREY

she doesn't get it, why would you do something like that for lil old her??

but she cherishes everything you do for her to the fullest extent.

she spends a lot of time at ur house and has lots of sleepovers with u to get away from her own home life

she rlly thinks she doesn't deserve you. like at all

tries to take you places and pay for your meal but she can't do it all the time, so she makes the most out of every date and trip

gets embarrassed if u show up with a gift and just hugs you until she isn't flushed anymore,, she can't have you seeing her face!!

she doesn't have a lot of money so she really appreciates everything u get her, especially food

gobbles on any food u get her or dinner u buy,, she isn't passing free food up!!

KEL

"oh! for me?? are you sure??"

he'll be awfully confused every time you randomly show up with something he's been wanting

if you buy him food or take him to GINO's a lot he'll try to cut down his order to make you pay less but gobbles it all up

gets embarrassed if u ask him if he wants anything else,,, like stop !! spending!!! money!! on! me!!!!

"haha, no, i don't wanna make you pay more... wait, where are you going?!"

he tries to tell u not to get him anything but he is a big growing boy that needs his nutrients. he gobbles up whatever you buy so you know none of it went to waste

he accepts your offers and gifts gladly, but not without hesitation!! he hates being a bother

"hah, i'm supposed to be paying for your meal.." lowkey damages his masculinity

HERO

he's also confused. why are you buying him all of this?? cookbooks??? new, fancy silverware??? paying his dogs medical bills??? what the fuck

he's actually kinda skeptical about it at first,, like what if you're breaking up w him?? are you trying to soften him up so you can backstab him?????

but he realizes that's stupid and awkwardly accepts anything u do/give him. he gets all blushy about it and starts stuttering though

he spoils you back. to an extent because your family is richer n all that, but he still tries to spoil you by getting you gifts and flowers and chocolates and stuff you like/need

it's weird to him because he's usually the spoiler/gentleman in the relationship,, so he's lowkey swept off his feet

he would've done that for you anyway, but now he has to do it extra so it isn't unfair!!! he feels like he's taking advantage of you or something

MARI

she always denies everything u do/get for her,, but she'll eventually accept it and kiss you on the cheek as a thanks

like SUNNY she doesn't think she deserves that kind of treatment,, you shouldn't be wasting your money so fast like that!!

she does love the romantic aspect,, like if you went on a trip together all alone and romantic,, or if you show up to her house with flowers and chocolates and... is that a diamond ring?

it gets her all blushy but she tries to hide it by being devious and teasing u,, then she goes home and goes crazy over you in her room

"oh? is this for me?? why, if i didn't know better i'd say you're in love!"

teases to cover up the fact that she's embarrassed as fuck

BASIL

he's constantly telling you not to spend any money on him

he tries to spoil you back by giving you home-planted flowers and drawings and pictures, but he never feels like it's enough

"really, you shouldn't be spending this much money.."

makes him super flushed if u show up with something he said he wanted,, he didn't mean for you to actually go out and buy it!!!

always insists that he pays for dinner. always

gives u lots of hand crafted things and drawings,, he really hopes you think it's the thought that counts

cherishes everything u give him,, new garden shears? he's going to use these the rest of his life

if u two go on a trip he takes lots of photos of you and the scenery, and has an entire album dedicated to you

[nunezs-stuff]

Yui komori

Likes

Pink

Going outside on rainy days

Disney movies

Cooking

Stitching

Spending time with her sister

Bath bombs

Criminal Minds

Crime documentaries

Strawberry Shortcake

cupcakes

Reading Slice of Life manga

Rose gardens

Wandering around and exploring new places

Singing church songs

Laying in bed

Reading

Warm weather

Dislikes

Being yelled at it terrifies her

Being in trouble

Getting dirty

Extremely revealing clothes

Rats and rodents Etc

When things are dirty

Hot sunny days

Bad days

Horror movies

The dark

Sleeping in the dark

Rewrite facts

Yui taught herself how to cook through cookbooks and and the nuns of the church and

She actually convinced Seiji to buy kianna a phone as well

She taught Kianna how to use her phone

And actually stitched most of kianna's close to save money

She always carries a rosary with her

At all times since she was in the church she was always active helping the nuns helping with charity events so she never wore heels too high or too low

and she actually became worried for kianna since she was always inside so Yui would bring her to help out on the charity events for the church

[dennisboobs]

do you guys ever sit and remember that dennis takes a mental health day is an episode that exists

[tianasimstreehouse]

Grilled Scallops

Sunny and Olivia live by the sea in Brindleton Bay, and love to collect fresh scallops that sometimes wash up on the shore. Occasionally, Sunny's work brings him to Sulani, and he always returns with a bag of scallops from the fish market vendors. Olivia grills the scallops in their shells with butter, garlic and parsley, and they sit out in the summer evening and eat them with a generous glass of white wine.

Category: Meals

Ingredients: Parsley, Garlic* (Vampires), Scallop Shells* (Island Living)

Skill Level: 5 (Gourmet)

Available sizes: Single, Family, Party

Dietary: Vegetarian-Safe, Lactose Free

*REQUIRES the latest version of my TianaSims Cookbook to work* Download this here: https://www.patreon.com/posts/tianasims-64612779

*This food is quite high poly for foods, I have tried to lower the poly as much as I could, but it may not perform with really low graphic laptops.

DOWNLOAD: https://www.patreon.com/posts/78721548?pr=true Milk and Cookies: Now! Sugar Cookies: 7th March Public: 14th March

[shallyne]

Feysand Week Day 6: Mates

Accidentally in Love

Day six! Based in one of my Feysand AU posts. @officialfeysandweek2023 please ignore inconsistencies and just vibe OK thx love y'all

Words: 3,056

TW: none

Feyre likes her life as a witch. She's living in a cute cottage and makes potions, her best friend is visiting her all the time. But one day, her friend accidentally sips from her love potion and Feyre has to keep an eye on him

It was a sunny spring day, there was a slight breeze of wind fluttering through the windows, ruffling Feyre's hair as she happily added the last ingredient to her love potion. It had taken her quite some time to find the berries, especially at this time of year but there was also a big demand for Feyre's infamous love potion. It also satisfied her to no end that the potion ended up being pink, it attracted buyers.

Feyre remembered when she was small, it was frowned upon in her village to ask for payment in return for her gifts but why shouldn't she? A farmer took payment, so did carpenters, cobblers, blacksmiths, seamstresses and clothiers. Everyone took payment for their work. Feyre had to make a living somehow. She was born as a witch so she would damn well use that, it would be stupid otherwise. She had left her town shortly after she reached her majority, never looked back and never once missed her village since then. She now lived in a forest on the outskirts of a town called Velaris. That place was enchanting in itself, the atmosphere was incredible and Feyre finally had the feeling of arriving at home. Although she didn't like wandering into the city. The people were nice but the crowds could get overwhelming for her.

She stirred her potion one more time before she rested the wooden spoon on the pot's handle and checked her recipe. Feyre was sure that she made everything right but she just made sure. As she did, there was one knock on her door and then her best friend walked into her cottage as if he owned the space. "There you are!" Rhys exclaimed, "I've been looking everywhere for you."

Feyre snorted, her eyes still trained on her cookbook. It was a book she had written herself, potions she had crafted herself carefully over the years. "What do you mean everywhere? I must say, I'm disappointed, Rhysand. You, as my best friend, should know me better. If you are looking for me, you know my home is the first place to look."

He huffed amused, his steps nearing until he stood right beside her, "For how many people are you cooking? Were you awaiting me?" and before she could stop him, he had taken the wooden spoon and downed a whole spoonful of her love potion.

"No!" she said, ripping the spoon out of his hand. "That's - that's a love potion!"

Rhys's eyebrows shot up. A mild reaction for what she just told him. "Since when do you make potions in the morning? You always make them in the evening!"

"Don't blame me for being so stupid to eat something in a witch's cottage without asking!" She countered.

Rhys smiled, "Touché."

He took the wooden spoon again, that Feyre was close to breaking in her steel grip, and put it on the counter. She sighed, "You're right, I usually make my potions in the evenings but my love potions are so high on demand that I had to track down the ingredients and make them in an instant." she sighed and looked at Rhys, "Do you feel something?"

He went rigid, his eyes slightly widening but shook his head. "I feel the same."

Feyre smiled at him, not feeling the smile at all, and lied, "It wasn't really cooking yet, it probably didn't work." she sighed. "Are you going back to the city?"

"I wanted to spend time with you," he said, "But I'll plan to get back sometime today."

Feyre got her satchel and packed two love potions and a healing potion that she made earlier, "I have a customer in Velaris and I'd like to visit Mor. Will you accompany me?" Feyre threw over her cape. Rhys stepped forward and helped her with the clasp. Their eyes met when she looked up, his eyes twinkling with unconditional affection. "It would be an honor, Feyre darling."

If Feyre wouldn't have known that this is how they always interact, she would have thought it was the love potion speaking. It wasn't, he is his usual self. They are best friends, nothing more.

They kept eye contact for a few more moments until Feyre averted her eyes and walked to the door. "Well then, come. I don't have the whole day."

"Why are you in such a rush?" Rhys asked. "Are you in some shadowy business? If you don't deliver the potions at the agreed time, will you be hunted down by an assassin? Will you have to change your name and vanish?" he chuckled.

When he caught up to her, Feyre pushed him, which made him laugh harder. He kept joking around as they followed the path to Velaris and by the time they reached the city, Feyre's stomach hurt from laughing.

They reached a narrow house in the palace of hoof and leaf, on the ground level was a little shop and the two upper levels were living quarters. The exchange went quickly and smoothly, especially after they stopped eyeing Rhys. Either it was his beauty or the surprise that the High Lord had accompanied her, maybe both. She didn't care.

They slowly walked to the other side of the Sidra, nearing Rhys's townhouse in comfortable silence. Some of the people greeted Rhys, some waved. They didn't pay much attention to Feyre, which didn't bother her. She drank in the city around, the mountains that surrounded the city, the flat-topped mountains of red stone, where Feyre was sure she saw windows built inside. That must be the House of Wind Rhys and Mor told her about. When they crossed the bridge, Feyre marveled at the sapphire water of the Sidra and the little ships she could see in the distance. Feyre also marveled at the white marble, sandstone and red stone buildings all throughout the city, the restaurants where many different, delicious smells drifted over. Feyre couldn't believe she was so rarely here, and when she was, she hadn't paid attention to much. It was unlike her to not pay attention but the thought of getting overwhelmed held her back but now, with Rhysand at her side, she felt safe enough to do so. Maybe someday she'd ask him to show her the Rainbow. Maybe someday she'd paint again.

Rhys opened a wrought iron gate, leading up to a townhouse. She knew that Rhys wasn't living in a castle like other High Lords, the simplicity of it all still surprised her.

"Make yourself comfortable, I'll get Mor." he told her when they stood in the foyer. Feyre looked around as he took the stairs, two steps at the time. Two paintings she painted a hundred years ago hung in the wood-paneled walls. She hadn't painted since she left the spring court, breaking off her engagement with the High Lord of spring and looking for refuge in the night court. She hadn't taken much, but she took three paintings and gifted them to Rhys as a thank you for taking her in. She couldn't see the third anywhere. Maybe he didn't like it and threw it away.

A few minutes went by and she could hear Rhys and Mor whispering upstairs, she couldn't make out what they were saying, though.

"Feyre!" a familiar voice squeaked behind her. She whirled around, looking at the blonde stop the stairs, who vanished into black smoke and then reappeared before Feyre, barreling into her.

"Mor!" Feyre said excitedly, wrapping her arms around her friend. "I missed you so much!"

"These last few weeks were crazy busy, I'm sorry I couldn't visit you." she put her hands on Feyre's shoulder and looked at her face. "Come with me, we have so much to catch up on! I also have an important question for you." she told Feyre as she pulled her to the double doors leading into the garden. They sat down on a little table, Mor smiling brightly at her. Mor's hair was put up in a ponytail, her clothes simple. Wide pants and a thin, blue sweater.

"What's your question?" Feyre asked curiously, pulling off her cape.

"Okay, I have a friend who…it's exciting, actually, he found his mate!" Mor said, her smile spreading wider, a smile so bright that Feyre couldn't but smile, too. Mates were rare, so this was amazing. "Although, he doesn't know if she's into him, either. And he asked me about you, about your love potion, to be exact."

Feyre nodded to signal her to keep going.

"If they would take a love potion, would it change anything about their bond? He doesn't want to ruin any chance of them getting together but having a bond is an unusual situation."

Feyre thought about it for a moment, her head resting on her hand. She shook her head, "The potion shouldn't change anything about their bond. It was created to mimic a mating bond but a real bond is always stronger than a potion. No potion in this world override or take away a bond like this. He should be careful though, no matter who takes the potion, there shouldn't be any other person around. The potion works for the first person you see after you take that potion and if there is a real bond in play, it could potentially get dangerous for every person involved."

Mor's eyes went wide, "How so?"

"The "fake" bond is strong in itself, you feel extremely protective and obsessive over your mate, especially in this initial period. If you found your mate, you usually want to claim them and these feelings are even stronger in a real bond. So if there is a third party who wants to claim someone's mate…" Feyre drifted off but Mor nodded knowingly. If everything went to shit, it could end in death.

It was quiet between them for a few minutes until Mor's face lit up again, "What about you? What's been going on in your life?"

Feyre looked back to the door, making sure Rhys wouldn't hear. Mor looked confused, so Feyre told her, "Rhys accidentally took my love potion." Mor sat up surprised and Feyre fell into an explanation about what happened not even two hours ago.

"Wow." Mor said. "So he'll fall in love with you now?" something twinkled in her eyes that Feyre chose to ignore. She held her cup of tea that Cerridwen brought out while Feyre explained the situation to Mor. "That's it, he doesn't act any different than usual! I was watching him the whole time, he's normal. Normal Rhys. But it can't be my potion. My potion works. So why didn't it work on Rhys?"

Mor took a sip of her tea, shrugging. "Are you sure he's not any different?"

"No! Absolutely not. The very same." Feyre said, frustrated. There was something she didn't see, but what? When she expressed this to Mor, she only smiled. Irritating Feyre even more.

"You should stay the next few days, to keep a watch on my cousin. You can have my room, it's directly beside Rhys's. I'll take Azriel’s in the meantime, he's sleeping at the House of Wind." Mor nodded satisfied at her suggestion.

"I think you're right!" Feyre said, "I should keep an eye on him."

And that's what they did. Feyre was there for a week, spending time with Rhys, Mor and Cassian.

On day one, Rhys and Feyre went back to her cottage to put her love potions in little vials to store them and take them back to Velaris.

On day two, Feyre and Mor lounged on the House of Wind, where Rhys had flown Feyre. They sunbathed and watched the boys during training. She had pushed all her thoughts away that sneaked in, focusing on Rhys's behavior.

On day three they went to a restaurant, Sevendas. Feyre and Cassian had talked for a while on their way there, until Rhys interjected with his own opinions and squeezed between Feyre and Cassian.

On day four, Rhys and Feyre were pretty much alone. She hadn't left his side, steadily keeping an eye on his behavior. All the time. Rhys didn't seem to mind, he even invited her to a game of chess. He won the first two rounds, Feyre won the third.

On day five, Rhys had to go to Windhaven but when he arrived at the townhouse late in the evening, they sat on the rooftop together and watched the stars. His behavior was still the same.

On day six, Feyre tried to make herself Omelette. It only half burned, which was victory enough. When she offered Rhys the half that wasn't burned, he evaded her, panic written in his eyes. Feyre scoffed when he was gone. She wasn't that bad of a cook.

On day seven, Mor dragged Feyre shopping. Feyre tried to deny her offer but she insisted, telling Feyre she had to get out of the house for a day. Feyre could only think about Rhys, what if his behavior changes that day when she wasn't there?

It didn't.

When day eight arrived, there was a change. Not in Rhys, but in Feyre. They all went to Rita's, Feyre sat in the booth nursing her drink while Cassian and Mor vanished on the dancefloor somewhere. Rhys was at the bar, talking to a stunning female. A weird seizing in her chest made it hard to breathe as the pounding in her ear got louder and louder. When Rhys leaned forward, Feyre's grip on her glass was so strong she Feared it would break. Abruptly standing up, she almost lost balance in the high heels that Mor had lent her. She pulled down the sparkling, black mini dress and walked over to Rhys. She felt the eyes of a few other patrons on her but she didn't care. "Rhys," she said, her voice straining. He turned to her, eyebrows raised in question. Feyre ignored the other female. "We need to talk." she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him to a big metal door. They ended up in a dark side street, only one lamp above the door lighting a small spot up.

"What is it?" he asked.

Feyre stepped back, getting a little distance between them. She loosened her fist and balled them again, over and over, not sure what to say.

"Feyre?"

She looked at him, in his mesmerizing, violet eyes. What would she tell him? She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

"Why did you pull me away?" Rhys asked. It didn't sound like a question. No, it did, but it didn't sound like he wanted the answer. It sounded more like a question she should ask herself.

He stepped closer. Breathing became harder.

"Were you jealous, Feyre?" he asked, tilting his head slightly, a lock of his raven hair falling in his face. Feyre looked away from his face, letting her eyes wander down. He was wearing a black button up, the sleeves rolled up to his elbow, showing his powerful muscled forearms. Was she even breathing anymore?

"No." she looked up again, Rhys was so close.

"Alright," he said, his eyes still trained on her. "So it won't bother you of I get back inside now, picking up the delightful conversation I just head with that lovely-"

"No!" she spit out, grabbing his arms.

"Why?"

"You're mine!" she said. Yelled. Whispered. She didn't know but they both heard, the word echoing between them. Mine. Mine. Mine. But there was another whisper, getting louder with every heartbeat. Mate. Mate. Mate. Mine. Mine. Mine.

Rhys's nostrils flared, as if he could hear it, too. Feyre's eyes went wide, checking her mental shield that he taught her to keep up when she came here. They weren't up, he heard every single thought. Feyre could have screamed them down the bond as well, it wouldn't make a difference. Bond. Bond? The mating bond.

"The– the mating bond." Feyre said. "That's why my potion didn't work."

"No," Rhys said, surprising Feyre. "The potion didn't work because I was already deeply, irrevocably in love with you." Feyre's breath hitched. "I have been since I found you at the night court border, asking for refuge. Since I saw you, hungry and frozen and still having so much fight in you."

"Did you know about the mating bond?"

He leaned against the door, sighing, "Only later. Remember when I showed you the cottage? You were so excited, telling me it's perfect. Already planning how to pay me back,"

Feyre smiled, "You told me it's a gift from a friend."

Rhys chuckled, "I did. When you were all settled in, I left but I turned around one more time to look at you. I saw you skimming through a notebook, smiling. You looked so content, happy. That's when the bond snapped. You just started to heal from your time in the spring court, I couldn't burden you with this. Then, as you healed, we became closer and the thought that you could reject me felt like someone stabbed me in the heart, so I settled to be your best friend. I couldn't risk this Feyre. I couldn't risk you." his eyes were silver lined when he met hers. "I love you but– but I understand if you don't love me back. If you don't want this bond. I can live with it–"

"Oh Rhysand, shut up!" Feyre said, wiping a tear away. "I love you, too, you idiot! More than anything in this whole, damned world." she hiccuped, "I'd be honored to be your mate, Rhys."

Something snapped inside Rhys as he jumped forward and tugged her close. One arm wrapped around her waist, one hand held her head in place and crashed his mouth into hers. It was explosions, it was fireworks, it was like the last puzzle piece sliding into place. Feyre wrapped her arms around his neck, keeping him close, melting into his touch.

She pulled back, just a bit, for a moment to ask him, "Would you show me the Rainbow?"

"I'd show you the whole world if you'd want that," he said out of breath.

Feyre giggled, "The Rainbow does it for now."

Rhys smiled and Feyre kissed him again, not letting him go. He was hers and she was his. The beginning and end.

Them.

Finally.

Feysand Taglist:

@captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @edgyellie @starfall-spirit @rhysiedarling @corcracrow @sydney-fae25 @tothestarsandwhateverend @aayo-whatt @dreamlandreader

[thebigskoot]

shitty little essay i wrote about the always sunny cookbook

It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, also known as It’s Always Sunny or just Sunny, is a show that sometimes makes you lose your appetite. This is intentional; it is a show about disgusting people doing disgusting, cruel things to each other. Equally disgusting is the food that the characters discuss and consume: a couple examples of dishes featured on the show are rum ham, meat cube, milk steak (with jelly beans on the side (“raw”)), and riot punch. After hearing these names, a watcher likely does not want to take a bite of whatever a milk steak might be (we never do find out what Charlie means by this). Despite this, FX, the television channel that hosts Sunny, recently decided to make a cookbook based on the foods featured in this show. I believe that this book is nothing but a gag gift for fans, as it is neither funny nor educational enough to be a good read or a good cookbook.

The cookbook, titled Paddy's Pub: The Worst Bar in Philadelphia: An It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia Cookbook, is split up into sections based on characters from the show, each featuring an introduction written in the voice of a character followed by several recipes from said character. The first red flag of this cookbook is that it is not written by the creators of the show. Glenn Howerton, Rob MacElhenny, and Charlie Day are the creators of It’s Always Sunny and have been writing, producing, and playing the characters Dennis, Mac and Charlie since the show’s conception in 2005. Their respective characters were originally based on them - Dennis’s vanity, Mac’s hard-headedness and Charlie’s stupidity mirror the worst parts of the actors’ real-life personalities. Because of this, writing from these characters’ point of view has to be thoughtful and well-crafted in order to feel genuine and authentic to these deeply personal characters.

Unlike in the series’ official self help book, The 7 Secrets of Awakening the Highly Effective Four-Hour Giant, Today, which is written by the writers in their characters’ voices, this cookbook is written by a third-party writer. This makes the first-person introductions to each section of the cookbook full of cheap references to popular gags in the show, as opposed to any new information about the character. For instance, in Charlie’s introduction, he rambles about his iconic sleeping outfit of a black horse t-shirt and white long johns. This is something that never comes up verbally in the show, and is told only through wardrobe. However, the writer decided to bring this up to remind the reader that, yes, this is your favorite character Charlie speaking. Instead of references to the character’s wardrobe, something that may have been more relevant to a cookbook is something about Charlie’s relationship with food. For example, I would have appreciated it if the writer had given us Charlie’s take on his strange diet, which often consists of things not meant for human consumption, such as paint and cat food. How did he start eating these foods? How does he feel about his health as a result of his diet? If Charlie Day had written this from his character’s point of view, I think he would have expanded on what we already know about the character’s relationship with food as opposed to reminding us of what we already do know about his character’s pajamas.

Cat food, which Charlie eats every night along with a beer and a huff of glue, is a recipe in this cookbook. The writers could have gone the comedic route for this book and given this recipe one ingredient: One Can of Cat Food. This could have been done with many recipes in this book; as I mentioned, most of the food in It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia is nearly inedible. However, instead of keeping the recipes accurate to the show (and thus inedible), the writers opted to feature basic, easy-to-make recipes that only resemble the foods from the show. This takes the reader out of the illusion that the recipes were provided by the characters; if Charlie knew how to make tuna salad, he wouldn’t be eating Fancy Feast. Unfortunately, these character-breaking choices were made in the name of interactivation.

The simplicity of these recipes, I think, is an attempt at reaching the target audience of Sunny: college-aged adults. However, I think that two other options would have worked better as opposed to this approach: the aforementioned inedible approach, and, on the other side of the spectrum, the way-too-fancy-for-this-show approach. The inedible approach would render the book useless as an interactive cookbook, but make it a purely comedic gag book: something completely different and more consistent with the show’s brand. On the other hand, the writers could have chosen the way-too-fancy approach, in which the recipes are not described as being written by the characters but instead interpreted by professional chefs. This would give the book more of a purpose, of which it currently does not have: college kids can look up these basic recipes without buying a book based on their favorite sitcom.

A couple of summers ago, when I was in the depths of my It’s Always Sunny hyperfixation, I was living in a subletted apartment with my friend, Isaac. Almost every free moment we had, we were watching Sunny: before work, after work, while we were eating, and even during the one time we each picked up one dumbbell from my set of two and pretended to exercise. Sometime before the summer, I saw a two-part series from the YouTube channel Babish Culinary Universe in which Babish recreates the foods from It’s Always Sunny in two ways: one exactly the show describes (or how he thought the characters would make it), and one in a fancy, over-the-top way. For example, he makes a Grilled Charlie exactly how Charlie instructs Frank to make one on his hot plate: “Peanut butter outside, chocolate inside, butter inside, cheese outside.” Of course, this was an inedible mess, so he proposed a new and improved Grilled Charlie consisting of brie cheese, dark, high-quality chocolate, brioche, and chunky peanut butter. Although still a strange flavor combination, when Isaac and I had nothing to eat for dinner, we cooked and ate these fancy Grilled Charlies while watching our favorite show at the dinner table. Babish’s recipe was much more thoughtful and authentic than Grilled Charlie in the cookbook, which trades cheese for cream cheese frosting, which, like the tuna salad “cat food,” makes it a completely different (and boring) dish from the one featured in the show.

In conclusion, Paddy's Pub: The Worst Bar in Philadelphia: An It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia Cookbook is a bad attempt at an It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia cookbook in that it is not funny, authentic-feeling, or good enough as a cookbook to be worth buying even for a die-hard fan like me or Isaac.

References

Rea, A. (2017, February 20). Binging with babish: It’s Always sunny in Philadelphia special. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q2ezpExQ_k0&t=46s

FX. (2006, June 29). The Gang Goes Jihad. It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Episode.

Randolph, L., & Fecks, N. (2023). Paddy’s Pub: The Worst Bar in Philadelphia: An it’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia Cookbook. Hyperion Avenue. February 12, 2024, https://dayton.overdrive.com/media/10136164?cid=28073

Note: I was only able to access a sample of the book, hence why I focus so heavily on Charlie's introduction and recipes in this essay.

Wolf, M. J. P. (2014). Building imaginary worlds the theory and history of subcreation. Taylor and Francis.

[cowboycharmac]

to be honest i really wish they hadnt tried to make paddys cookbook even a little bit good. i wish it was full of the most god awful recipes known to man. i want an official cookbook to sincerely tell me to mix biltricide into chocolate and drink a mixture of crow eggs and milk and vodka and boil steak in milk. i want a book that will describe to me the correct way to butcher a worm infested raccoon. no always sunny themed recipe is worth making if theres not at least a fifty percent chance youll get food poisoning whenever you eat it