#vegan au

[sircantus]

Omggg pacifist wilbur being raised to be absolutely lethal in all forms of combat, like he doesn’t care for killing and refuses to do it but being raised by emduo means he knows like 77 different ways to kill a man at any given moment. He is not a threat bc he chooses not to be. He clings to the hope that he can keep his family safe without any more fighting and blood, but he also always has that knife in his back pocket, for it is his second nature. His main way of defense is something he learned to perfect by himself, his main method of defense is his words, but there will always, always be the instinctual urge to bring his fists up, because he was raised like that. He was raised to go for the throat. He actively made himself peaceful. It does not mean he’s harmless. If anything he’s even more dangerous bc now he’s underestimated

[fullcravings]

Easy Step-By-Step Flaky Vegan Pain Au Chocolat Recipe

[escelia]

DP x DC PROMPT/FIC

Gotham Portal

(If you get the notif for this post like 2 days ago, no you didn't! I wasn't done yet! You were imagining things!)

Where the story takes place in Gotham instead of Amity Park, the Fentons having moved before the construction and testing of the Ghost portal due to the high saturation of ectoplasm in Gotham. So, Danny's accident ALSO happens in Gotham, except he has no support system at all.

Enter the Bats stage left!

Danny couldn't believe he'd been so stupid. His parents had uprooted their whole life to move to Gotham. They said they'd need all the ambient ectoplasm there for when they built their portal. Jazz had been thrilled! After all, Arkham was a shining beacon of mentally ill people, and Jazz was like a psychology moth to a flame; it would be the perfect place for her internship after college.

His parents had wasted no time assembling the portal from their blueprints in the basement of the run-down apartment building they'd bought outright just on the edge of Crime Alley, complete with the Ops Center parked right on top. They'd gutted the place and completely redone it before they moved in. (Danny had no idea when they accomplished that. Maybe they'd been planning it for a while and only thought to tell their children two weeks before moving day.) He was genuinely surprised the local vigilantes hadn't stopped by yet to ask questions.

But anyway, back to how he was royally screwed! He'd just wanted a cool picture for Sam and Tucker now that he'd moved away. His parents weren't home (they'd gone back to the hardware store after their last test), Jazz had stayed after school to try and butter up her new teachers by running a study group, and he'd been alone. He'd even followed all the safety precautions his parents had told him about! He'd put on the hazmat suit and tried not to touch anything. But he'd tripped.

Through the whirling of green and the static buzzing in his ears, he remembered screaming, though he hadn't recognized it as his own. Every nerve in his body was on fire, and he just wanted it to stop. Stop, please stop, why won't someone save me, please!

He woke up to the smell of burning flesh, but he woke up. He was okay! Disoriented, a little disgusted by the smell and throat a little raw, but okay!

At least he'd thought so at first.

He'd begun to... change colors? And float, he floated sometimes, too. But the most irritating of all was that he would go through things. Forks and glasses slipping, quite literally, right through his fingers.

He hadn't told his parents. He'd been fine, after all. A little shaken up, but they'd been so excited he'd gotten the portal to work, who was he to put a damper on the mood when he was fine?

That brought him to now, staring at the mirror in the school bathroom in horror. He'd fought his first real ghost that morning around breakfast. He'd kept it together fairly well, in his opinion. Got through three whole classes before making an excuse to the teacher, slipping off into the blessedly empty restroom.

He'd been getting better and better at controlling his form, and he transformed in front of the mirror, taking stock of his appearance.

Odd colored hair: check.

Bright glowing eyes: check.

Floaty hair: check.

Could walk through walls, disappear, and fly: check.

He raised his finger to his pulse point and felt... nothing.

"I died," he whispered to himself in shock. "I... died," he repeated, this time in despair.

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

Damian Wayne was not usually one to keep tabs on his classmates. They weren't his friends, therefore he saw no point. However, the new kid, Daniel Fenton, had begun to act strange.

When Daniel Fenton enrolled in Gotham Academy it hadn't been anything special. He'd started the year a little last due to his family moving, but families moved for all sorts of reasons. He hadn't tried to immediately make friends with Damian like so many others had, much to his relief. But he hadn't tried to make friends with anyone else, either. Maybe he liked to be alone? It really wasn't his business.

But then the boy started getting skittish and clumsy. Clumsier than he had been when he started school. He'd developed a miniscule tremor in his left hand, so he'd probably sustained an injury. He began dropping things in Chemistry. So often, in fact, that he'd been banned from doing practical labs and was instead assigned extra book work.

If Damian had been anyone else, if he hadn't been raised by assassins or had his night work as Robin, he wouldn't have noticed. He wouldn't have followed Fenton to the bathroom under the guise of needing to see the school nurse for a headache. Perhaps if he were anyone else, Fenton might have noticed him following.

There was an alarming flash of light as Damian peered carefully around the corner. Fenton had changed forms. Something had happened to him.

"I died," he heard him say. Damian thought he was being dramatic until he watched him raise his fingers to his pulse point. His glowing eyes dilated in panic, and he repeated himself. He watched as his classmate, looking fragile and lost, curled in on himself floating in the air, and sobbed.

Damian didn't confront him that day. He watched, waited, and researched. He found the research of Dr's Fenton on ghosts and ectoplasm, most of which he was skeptical of up until actual ghosts started to torment them during patrols.

Ghosts were real, it appeared.

He also concluded that their findings on ectoplasmic entities being non-sentient and inherently malevolent was incorrect, having met the ghost of a little girl caught up in a rouge attack that killed her and her family.

Damian watched Daniel Fenton for about a week while he ditched class in a poorly hidden effort to fight and contain the ghosts that he and his family were having such a hard time dealing with. His father was even nearly considering contacting John Constantine, which was never his ideal solution. Damian had been rolling an idea around in his head for a while and he decided now would be the time to bring it up.

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

Dinner at the manor was more of a full table than Damian had expected. Not everyone was there, Jason's relationship with them was still a bit strained, so he was not in attendance, and neither was Stephanie. But Duke was home, and Dick was actually there early for patrol later. Tim was there, and so was Cass, so almost everyone.

"Ahem," he cleared his throat politely. "Father, I wish to recruit a new member."

The chatter around the room came to a halt, the clatter of silverware ceasing.

"What exactly do you mean, chum?" Bruce asked carefully.

"I have a classmate I believe would be a valuable asset in light of our trouble with ghosts recently. However, he has no training or support, so I'm asking for your assistance."

"Did... demon brat make a friend?" Tim asked bewildered and a little bit terrified.

"Tt. No, I've never even spoken to him." Damian rolled his eyes. "My classmate, Daniel Fenton, transferred to Gotham Academy about a month ago and started acting strange soon after. He came to school with a tremor and a Lichtenberg figure you can just barely see starting on his left hand and traveling up his arm. I believed he'd been in an accident, and my suspicions were proven when I saw him use meta abilities to ditch class and fight a ghost in the courtyard of the school. From my observations, they are newly acquired, but he has decent instincts and an inclination toward heroism. I believe it would be safer for everyone involved if we approached him first."

"What?" Tim muttered. Dick was smiling gently at him, though, as if he were doing something he was proud of.

"Do his parents know?" Duke asked. Damian scoffed.

"I highly doubt it."

"Wait, Fenton as in the ectobiologists?" Bruce asked. The ex-assassin nodded.

"And considering their research is not reflected in our own interactions with ghosts thus far, I do not believe we should tell them."

"Not safe?" Cass signed. Her brother shook his head.

"The abilities I've observed resemble that of a ghost. He even has an alternate ghostly form."

The implication that they'd be endangering him hung heavy in the air. They'd all seen the Fentons' research. It mostly consisted of theoretical analysis and blatant biases with a long list of proposed experiments they'd run if they ever caught one. They'd all agreed that the Fenton ghost hunters were not a viable option for their ghost problem, especially after seeing how they drove, which in itself nearly put them on the Bat's rogue list.

"We've been meaning to investigate the Fentons properly anyways," Dick pointed out.

Bruce attempted to massage a headache out of his temples. The stuff his kids stumbled into, really. But Damian was right. If his classmate was a new meta with no support, it was only a matter of time before the rogues zeroed in on him, and since his family lived there, he couldn't tell the kid to leave.

"I'm not saying yes just yet, but talk to him. Find out any more that you can."

"Of course, Father."

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

Danny finally felt like he was getting the hang of his ghost powers. He was pleasantly surprised, and also mildly horrified, that his parents' inventions actually worked on the ghosts he was now beginning to fight regularly. His favorite was by far the thermos, which did no ghost mutilating whatsoever.

He discovered he had a ghost sense and enhanced hearing and vision, which was cool and all, but now he could hear all the shitty things his classmates said about him behind his back. Which, rude! He didn't even talk to them, what did they have to be shitty about?

He also noticed that one of them, Damian Wayne, had been watching him. From what Danny had heard, Damian was the richest kid in school, a Wayne. Son of billionaire Bruce Wayne, to be exact. And his attitude reflected that. His standoffish, holier than thou rich guy attitude made Dash and Paulina look like they lived below the poverty line. Apparently, he generally didn't talk to anyone at school unless it pertained to class, so Danny saw no point in introducing himself.

That made it extra weird that Damian was following him.

It was right after lunch when a hiccup had a cold breath tumbling from his lips. He raised his hand and asked his teacher if he could use the restroom. He made his way to the bathroom on the other side of the building this time, hoping it would be too out of the way for Damian to follow. But soft rustling of his classmate's school uniform gave him away, no matter how imperceptible his footsteps were.

When he entered the restroom, he made his way to the sink instead, splashing some cold water on his face as Damian walked in behind him loudly as if announcing his presence.

"I know what you've been doing," he said confidently, crossing his arms and standing in front of the door so Danny couldn't leave.

"Oh, hey! Damian, right? I'm in most of your classes, but I don't think I've ever introduced myself. I'm-"

"Daniel Fenton, I know. You've been fighting ghosts." Damian had to give him at least a little credit; he'd become a great actor over the last week. Though, that probably had a lot to do with the fact that he probably didn't feel safe at home anymore.

"My parents are ghost hunters, but I don't think shooting a ghost in the face with a lipstick laser then running for my life counts as 'fighting ghosts'."

"Tt. You are lying."

"Dude, what are-?" Danny cut himself off when his words came with another misty breath. Crap! He'd taken too long!

The ghost of the day, an ugly, mutated, bird looking thing with claws at the ends of its wings and a full set of dangerous, pointed teeth, phased through the door behind Damian, poised to strike.

Without warning, Danny grabbed Damian's wrist and whipped him out of the way, throwing himself between the two. A green shield formed in front of him just as the bird slashed at them with one of its wings.

"Well, that's new," he said startled as the bird geared up for another attack.

Danny groaned at his miserable luck before throwing caution to the wind and transforming. He'd just have to force friendship upon one Damian Wayne in an attempt to keep him from telling anyone about his whole magical girl transformation. He tried to activate his shield again, but when nothing happened, he was flung across the room into the wall. God, this was embarrassing.

The next time the ghost tried to attack him, Damian yanked him aside in a dodge and bolted out of the bathroom with Danny in tow. He was dragged through the winding halls to one of the side exits of the school. In costume or not, Damian's priority was luring the ghost away from the other students.

"Hey, so uh, you won't say anything about this," he gestured wildly to himself, "will you?"

"Tt. Of course not, but I believe you have more important concerns at the moment."

“Right!” Danny patted at the sides of his hazmat suit. “Crap, I left my thermos in my locker!” He dodged another attack and retaliated with an ectoblast, trying to keep the ghost's attention off of Damian as much as possible.

"Your lunch? Really?" Damian shouted. Dang, Danny must have been doing a decent job if Damian had the spare time and attention to be exasperated with him.

"No! It's a containment device! Besides, ghosts are basically soup anyway!"

"Distract it," Damian instructed, "I'll retrieve the device." The boy took off. Danny had to wonder how he even knew where his locker was. The ghost tried to follow him, but Danny shot another blast at it.

"Hey ugly, auditioning to be one of Gotham's Birds? Sorry, but you don't really look the part." He had no idea if the creature could even understand him, but the way it turned to him and lunged again suggested it had done the trick. This time, his shield did work!

Danny could have cried tears of joy at finally having some consistency with it. The next few minutes of the fight felt like an eternity while he dodged and shot ectoblasts at it. The creature wasn't really that strong, and it didn't seem to have super dangerous abilities like some of the other ghosts he'd fought like Skulker or Technus. It ended up being a great opportunity to practice his new shield ability, actually. But he knew the longer he took, the more danger his classmates would be in.

The bird ghost slammed into his shield with a particularly vicious strike, slamming him into the ground and creating a small crater.

"Note to self, remember intangibility," Danny groaned.

In that moment he noticed a door opening on the school building. It was Damian! He was finally back with thermos in hand! Unfortunately, the other ghost noticed too.

"Oh no you don't!" Danny yelled, latching onto one of its feet as it tried to fly toward his classmate. He dug his fingers in hard and sunk into the ground partway to anchor himself.

"Big green button by the lid then the button immediately below it!"

Damian wasted no time popping the lid open and sucking the ghost into the device, the lid closing with a quiet pop. He had to admit, though the design was questionable, it was sturdy, light, and very clearly effective. He wondered if he could get away with sneaking off with this one to have drake examine later.

"That was some incredible timing, thanks." The ghostly form of his classmate floated over to him, taking the thermos from his hand. Damian did not pout.

"We should probably get out of here before the Fenton's show up." He could already hear the screech of tires and his dad's voice over the megaphone tearing through the air.

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

"Don't worry honey, we'll catch that nasty ghost boy next time," Jack Fenton comforted his wife. True to form, the Fenton's had arrived to the scene late, and most of the damage to the school yard had been from their vehicle crashing into things upon their arrival. Parents had been called and classes ended for the day, which was how one Bruce Wayne found himself at Gotham Academy trying to help the teachers talk the two down from storming and searching the school.

His son was standing off to the side with one of his classmates. Dark hair, bright blue eyes, lanky frame; Bruce could have mistaken the child for one of his own, but looking between the hulking man in front of him and the kid standing next to Damian, the resemblance was obvious. That had to be Daniel Fenton, the meta his son had told him about. Which meant he'd been the one to deal with the ghost before anyone else had gotten there. The classmate Damian had suggested they recruit for his safety.

"Danno, did you see where that spook went? When I get my hands on him, I'll rip him apart molecule by molecule for even thinking of attacking your school!" Bruce saw Daniel's breath hitch with fear.

"Sorry, no. I was coming back from the bathroom when I saw him fighting another ghost through the window. I was scared so I hid," he lied, gripping his left wrist while he spoke.

Bruce was impressed. The boy's fear was real, and he used that to his advantage to really sell the lie to his parents. His heart ached for him. He couldn't imagine seeing any of his boys looking at him like that, with such fear and distrust.

"That's okay sweetie, we'll get him next time. We're just happy you're alright. Let's get you home," his mother comforted, though Bruce knew it wasn't very comforting at all.

"Yeah, we'll teach you to use the Fenton Bazooka," well that was horrifying, "that way next time you can just blast him!" Danny wanted literally anything else.

"Actually," Damian interrupted politely. "We were assigned a project in class earlier on the history of Gotham. As Daniel is relatively new to town, I offered to assist him with the assignment. Father, would it be acceptable for him to join us for dinner?"

Bruce would have been incredibly surprised his son was inviting someone over for dinner if he didn't see exactly what he was doing. Daniel wasn't safe at home. And he clearly wasn't comfortable with the way his parents spoke of the 'ghost boy'. If his defeated expression was anything to go by, it hadn't been the first time they'd said something like that, nor would it be the last.

"What do you think, Mr. and Mrs. Fenton? We'd love if Daniel could join us for dinner."

"Please, call us Maddie and Jack. That sounds wonderful Mr..."

"Wayne. Bruce Wayne, I'm Damian's father," he introduced. If the two recognized the name, they didn't show it. It worked out rather well in his favor.

"Mr. Wayne. If its not too much trouble, that would be wonderful. It's about time he made a new friend, he's been sulking since the move. Now, we have a ghost to catch!" Maddie planted a kiss on Danny's forehead, leaning her blaster on her shoulder as her and her husband made their way back to the homemade assault vehicle parked haphazardly on the lawn of the school.

"Be sure to call us if you plan on staying the night! We'll let Jazz know she doesn't have to worry about dinner for you! We love you, have fun sweetie!"

"Are they always like that?" Damian asked after the two had pulled away. How had those two even gotten their driver's license? It was truly abysmal, he dreaded the thought of anyone getting into a vehicle with them. And then there was the speed in which they'd dumped their son into their laps, even suggesting they'd be okay with him not coming home that night.

"They mean well, but yeah," Danny replied, heaving a sad and defeated sigh. "Thank you, by the way. For inviting me over, even if you didn't mean it. They can be a bit much."

"Clearly," Damian mused back.

Bruce watched the two interact and felt pride well up in his chest. Meeting the Fenton parents just once was enough to convince him that their son needed help, maybe even their daughter too. That Damian had taken the initiative to bring this to his attention, that he had stood up for Danny and offered his home as a sanctuary for him, made him so incredibly proud as a father. He wasn't as prickly with Danny the way he was with other people, even his own siblings. That was a very good thing indeed, considering it was looking more and more likely this would end with another adoption.

Maybe Clark was right, he did have an adoption problem.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

this is all your fault @sunsetcougar

in a world where vaggie gets adopted by the little cannibal kid she saved, and then by Rosie, and slips out of cannibal town each night for food that isn't too humane for her tastes-

imagine this version of chaggie meeting at a takeout window in hell

one long, awkward moment of trying not to look at each other...

Charlie: “So! You-"

Vaggie: "Hey."

Charlie: "-hello! Oh sorry, I didn't mean to cut you off-"

Vaggie: "No that was me. You're fine. (why is she in a SUIT) Go on."

Charlie: "Ok. What, uh- (panics in oh no she’s cute and talking to me) (remembers she’s staying in cannibal town) (OH PERFECT A CONVERSATION STARTER!!) -what kind of people do you like?”

Vaggie: “...pardon?”

Charlie: “Oh it's just, I've seen you around and, is that why you’re out on the town a lot? Shopping um, around? (for people to eat)”

Vaggie: “Not really? I’m kinda still.. torn up over my last big life commitment, (literally) so I’m exactly not looking to date anyone right off the bat.”

Charlie: “To date- TO DATE- OH! No no no I wasn’t- I meant dinner!”

Vaggie: “With you?”

Charlie: “IN GENERAL! People you like, as in, to eat? Because you're with the cannibals and haha dinner with me that would be like, a date and-”

Vaggie: “Yeah I’m not into that.”

Charlie: “(dying)-right.”

Vaggie: “The eating people thing. Not the dinner with a pretty woman thing.”

Charlie: “… (charlie.exe has stopped working)…Ah.”

Vaggie: “Right.”

Charlie: “…but Cannibal town?”

Vaggie: “I just live there. I- Junior Meat lives there and I’m sticking with him.”

Charlie: “And Mr. Meat is your…?”

Vaggie: “Kid? Kinda?”

Charlie: “Oh!”

Vaggie: “Yeah.”

Charlie: “That's wonderful! How did you two- sorry no never mind, too much, um. Does he like take out too? Or any non-human snacks?”

Vaggie: “Gummy bears. And dino nugets.

Charlie: "He has very good taste."

Vaggie: "He likes biting the heads off ‘em.”

Charlie: “Aww me too!!! Well, playing with them, not the head biting but. And you?”

Vaggie: “I used to put them into battle formations and march them off to war.”

Charlie: “That’s so cute.”

Vaggie: "..."

Charlie: "..."

Vaggie: “You meant what snacks do I like, huh.”

Charlie: “Heheh. Um. Yes! Sorry I’m not. Doing the whole 'have normal conversation with a beautiful girl' thing very good am I?”

Vaggie: “I’d give you five stars. And practice makes perfect.”

Charlie: "And would you...? I mean I wouldn't want to practice on someone who didn't-"

Vaggie: "Be your practice partner? Sure. Sounds fun."

Charlie: “…! I- I know all the best places in hell for inhuman food! Or wait no, for food that isn’t made of people! My treat?”

Vaggie: “My pleasure. (automatically does the little curtsy and hand kiss Rosie’s been badgering her to learn) (panics) I uh, here's my order, I gotta... go tuck in Junior Meat. You know where I’m at?”

Charlie: “(dazed) Hannibal Clown…. C-Cannibal Town!”

Vaggie: “Right. Think I already mentioned it.”

Charlie: “Yes and I saw you with them- so I guessed that you- I can pick you up?”

Vaggie: “Maybe an hour later than this, so Junior's in bed and doesn’t freak out.”

Charlie: “Oh. (droops) You think I’d scare him? I wouldn’t pull out my horns or tail out…”

Vaggie: “It's not you. He’s just kinda jumpy after the… he had a rough extermination day, is all.”

Charlie: “Looked like you did too.”

Vaggie: “What.”

Charlie: “You seem much better now! Not that you didn’t look great then, I mean. I'm sure you always look-”

Vaggie: “You saw- what did you see?”

“Charlie: “I was walking by when the cannibals were helping you. And I think I saw Junior Meat too? He was the one holding your hand?”

Vaggie: “Yeah…?”

Charlie: “I’m, really glad you all found each other. Even if it was a rough day.”

Vaggie: “… they ate part of me in greeting.”

Charlie: “Ugh! They ate-? I mean, aww?”

Vaggie: "Not a normal thing even in hell?"

Charlie: "The definition of normal is... fluid and not very... it wasn't your EYE was it?"

Vaggie: "Eh, wasn't using it anymore anyway."

Charlie: "I guess it counts as. Recycling?"

Vaggie: "Heh."

Charlie: "Sorry."

Vaggie: “No, you're okay. You’re also right though. Maybe it was worth one rough day.”

Charlie: “I’m right?”

Vaggie: “And you’re picking me up tomorrow for dinner.”

Charlie: “!!!! YES! I am! I will, be there, for you. Tomorrow.”

Vaggie: “And…”

Charlie: “And?”

Vaggie: “Didn’t catch a name earlier.”

Charlie: “Oh it’s Charlie! Charlie Morningstar but it’s just Charlie!”

Vaggie: “As in princess?”

Charlie: “Just Charlie.”

Vaggie: “Sweet. (FUCK) See you soon, Charlie.”

Charlie: “….okay….”

Charlie:

Charlie: “Oh my ****ing dad what just happened.”

Charlie, two hour later: "I DIDN'T EVEN ASK HER NAME??"

-At Rosie's Emporium (of vaggie's pain)-

Vaggie: "Junior's finally asleep, so not matter what I tell you, please don't scream."

Rosie: "A very intriguing start! I'm already tickled! Do go on."

Vaggie: “You might need to just kill me.”

Rosie: “I couldn’t possibly! You haven’t even eaten your take out yet~”

Vaggie: “Aunt Rosie help me.”

Rosie: “A girl, hmm?”

Vaggie: “A girl?? She was in a SUIT. She was tall and awkward kept playing with her hair and should've had a puppy dog tail wagging behind her. I called her pretty and said I’d give her five stars. Then I invited myself to dinner with her. And she’s a fucking DEMON.”

Rosie: “We all are down here, darling. Present company excepted of course.”

Vaggie: “HELP. ME.”

Rosie: “Let’s start with the basics, yes? The niceties? What’s the name of this lucky girl?”

Vaggie: “Charlie.”

Rosie: "Lovely! And does she have a last name?"

Vaggie: "It's just Charlie."

Rosie: "How charming, I like her already~"

Vaggie: "But her last name's Morningstar. Don't scream."

Rosie: (SPITS TEA)

Vaggie: “I know."

Rosie: "Oh... my."

Vaggie: "I know I know!"

Rosie: "An abandoned angel and the princess of hell?"

Vaggie: "She didn't act like a princess of hell! She was like, princess of cute and wearing her heart on her sleeve! Princess of so kissable I could just reach up and grab her bowtie and-"

Vaggie: "FUCK I'm so fucked.”

Rosie: "Not yet you aren't. Don't worry darling, auntie Rosie will get you there~"

Vaggie: "That's not the kind of help I need!"

Rosie: "Speaking of need- a new outfit, yes, something with sparkle and shine, on par with a suit but not one whit more! With a skirt you can move in too of course."

Vaggie: "I DONT NEED A SKIRT I NEED TO STOP BEING GAY OVER THE PRINCESS OF HELL"

Rosie: "Perhaps flowery parasol to hide your dear little spear in..."

[overtake]

A random scene from my Maxiel hockey au just because

“Why the fuck does this team give us perfectly identical sweatshirts? How am I ever meant to find mine?” Daniel asks, pawing through the clothes piled precariously on one of the barstools.

“It’ll probably be the one with your number on it,” Max says drily. “And teams tend to have matching clothing.”

Daniel looks up from his careful searching and tosses Max the finger. “Just for that, I’m wearing yours.”

Max’s hoodie is technically the same size as Daniel’s because Daniel prefers to size up, but it’s stretched out around the shoulders in a way Daniel’s isn’t. There’s a small stain by the left cuff whereas Daniel keeps his pristine. Most notably, there’s a 33 over the left chest instead of a single digit. It feels more lived-in and comfortable than Daniel’s, even though Daniel probably wears his jumpers twice as often as Max does.

He pops his head of the neckline and adjusts the strings. “Alright. I’m set. Let’s go.”

Max is paused with his keys in hand, mouth slightly parted and eyes burning holes into the number screenprinted on the fabric.

“You can’t get mad. I told you I was taking it,” Daniel says, even though Max doesn’t seem upset. Daniel can’t quite identify the expression crossing his face, but it’s definitely not annoyance.

“Don’t spill anything on it,” Max finally says.

Daniel catches up to him at the door and sticks the stained arm in Max’s face. “Don’t worry. You took care of that first.”

Max shoves his arm away, rolling his eyes playfully. “I’m not driving you anymore. You can hobble to the rink.”

Daniel switches positions to wrap his upper body around Max’s broad back, clasp his hands around Max’s neck, and jerk one leg up as if he’s about to jump for a piggy-back ride. Max elbows him off, giggling and pink-cheeked.

“Fine, I suppose I can give you a ride, but I’m not buying your tea,” Max warns. He undercuts his threatening words by instinctively holding Daniel’s hip, pale fingers pressed into plush fabric and waiting in case Daniel’s ankle gives out. Daniel has been successfully walking with no problems for a full week now, but Max is always hovering and holding.

“But I’m cold,” Daniel pouts, dramatically sticking out his lower lip. He’s just being annoying, but a gust of chilly air actually hits as he says it. Daniel shivers, pulling the jumper tight over his hands and moving closer to Max to try and leech some of his body heat. “I need this. Respect those of us from hot countries who played in hot states for ages.”

Max laughs, slinging an arm around Daniel’s back and tugging him into a mocking hug. “Poor Daniel. You only have to play in the NHL for the most iconic team in the craziest hockey city. Your life is very hard because it’s sometimes below zero and I don’t buy you tea.”

Daniel pulls his hands upward and dramatically rubs them together, then huddles into Max and presses his clasped hands between their chests. He doesn’t care if the hug is teasing. He’s genuinely fucking cold.

“You’re not allowed to be mean to me. I’m still injured.” He pokes out his healed ankle and lightly kicks Max’s leg with it. Max is in shorts, exposing fuzzy, muscled calves to Canadian January because he’s batshit insane.

“I’m hugging you,” Max says, rubbing his free hand up and down Daniel’s back. “I am very nice.”

Daniel presses his face into Max’s shoulder, just for a second. “Yeah. You’re not too bad, I guess.”

Shortly into their drive, Max detours, parallel parks, and comes back with a massive tea and crinkly brown bag.

“Their tea is shit and the donut is vegan,” Max says. His furrowed brow is aiming for admonishing, but the tugged edges of his mouth and dramatic tone give him away. “That’s your punishment.”

He still accepts the torn pieces of donut Daniel presses to his pink mouth and licks off the crumbs that decorate the sweet freckle on his upper lip.

“Wait. You have —” Daniel covers his thumb with the blue fabric of Max’s sweater and wipes one last sprinkle away as Max pulls into a parking space.

Max catches Daniel’s wrist before he can pull it back to his own body. He stares Daniel down with big eyes and long lashes and plucks the sprinkle where it’s caught on the ribbed cuffs. Max places one hand on Daniel’s chin and pulls down his lower lip, then places the sprinkle into Daniel’s salivating mouth.

“Don’t waste food.”

Max’s hands linger for one heated second before he drops them to turn off the ignition. Daniel tries to calm the thud of his straining heart, breathing in then out in an attempt to regain some normalcy.

He takes long enough that Max knocks on his passenger-side window, peering in and making little glasses over his eyes and waving all goofy, like nothing had just happened.

He eventually pulls open Daniel’s car door for him, gesturing out to the grey pavement. “Are you planning on showing up to practice today?” he teases.

Daniel recovers enough to slide out, though not gracefully, and heads into the rink to get chirped into oblivion over the 33 that feels throbbing and alive over his still-racing heart.

[morethansalad]

Vegan Pain au Chocolat

[ask-the-druggieverse]

aaaaghg i’m so happy i saw this while on the lust tag because it looks so interesting x’d

also does lust take anything other than antidepressants? ik they can react to others stuff so it’s probably a bad idea to drink/eat anything else that might have a reaction:^ also also hiii dream:3

OOC: EEEE I'm so glad you find my blog interesting!!! It always makes me happy whenever people find my works interesting or enjoyable ^W^!!!

- ALT - LUST: No, I only take antidepressants LUST: If anything LUST: Geno and Swap take multiple pills LUST: And yeah, I can't eat certain foods or drink certain stuff... LUST: But that's not a problem for me sense I'm vegan and only drink water LUST: Although I will drink milk...

DREAM: EEEE Hello!!!!

- IDK - I shit you not when researching the difference between vegan and vegitarian my mind was blown. Apparently vegan is eating anything that isn't animal byproduct(I.E Milk, Eggs ETC) but can eat meat while vegetarian is eating anything BUT meat or fish. If you're confused don't worry I was too but after thinking about it for a while it makes sense

And because of this me and my friend invented a new word combining the two definitions vegivegans(vegi-vegans), not sure if anyone cares about this but I found it to be cool

MAIN: @inkyu

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[reaperlight]

Cletus: May I have one of your french fries, dear?

Frances: Of course! Can I have a bite of your sandwich?

Cletus: Absolutely not.

Venom: Some “perfect couple”. He won’t even share his food with her.

Cletus: It's got meat in it. She can't eat it.

Eddie [inching away]: Is that a people burger you're eating?

Cletus [annoyed]: I swear, you eat your grandma one time and forever they call you a--No, Eddie. It's just roast beef...

Carnage [disgusted]: Already dead, unfortunately. You humans and carrion. [Intrigued] But also with lettuce, tomato, grey poupon...

Cletus: Anyway, she can't eat any meat.

Frances: It reacts poorly with my mutations.

Carnage: Are you so jealous of our relationship that you want Frances to die, father..?

Venom [pouting]: Well, I share my food with Eddie.

Carnage: Your host doesn't even like to eat people. It's inconsiderate.

[hedwig221b]

[narrator's voice] Derek is not human, despite what Stiles thinks. Derek also knows something that Stiles doesn't - that Stiles is pregnant

read full version

Cold blood slithered down his forearms to his elbows and dripped on the floor. His hands were slick with it, oily with all the fat that saturated the flesh.

His sharpened teeth dug into the meat and tore chunks of it out. He swallowed it almost without chewing, so hungry he was. The sounds felt too loud in the silence of the night, the whirring of the fridge the only accompaniment to his long-awaited feast.

It didn’t matter that he was used to the hot flesh. No, this was good, too, even with the faint notes of grass throughout—

“Stiles?”

Stiles froze.

Suddenly, he saw everything — the opened fridge, the dim light from inside; he felt the cold kitchen tiles under his bare feet, the chill that stuck to his skin. Something cold and soft and slick in his hands.

Stiles let it go.

The half-eaten steak smacked onto the floor right between his feet.

No. No, no, no.

Stiles didn’t want to turn, deathly afraid of what might happen after. He just stood there, staring at the meat, waiting for Derek to shout, to yell, to call him insane and kick him out—

Strong hands grabbed him by the shoulders and turned his body away from the fridge. Familiar hands cupped his undoubtedly pale and bloody face and turned up.

Derek’s wide eyes were full to the brim with concern.

He will leave, he will leave, he will leave.

“Baby, listen to me, it’s okay.”

Stiles opened his mouth to talk, but the taste chose this exact moment to remind him about what he had just done. Everything tasted like meat, like blood.

Whatever expression he had on his face made Derek frown even harder. The man shook him a little.

“Focus on me, Stiles. It’s okay. It’s fine. I’m here. It was probably a dream, that’s all.”

That was no dream.

Stiles didn’t remember waking up or walking to the kitchen. If Derek didn’t snap him out of it, he could’ve… could’ve…

“Come here, sweetheart.” Gently, oh so gently, Derek took his wrists and led him to the sink. He washed Stiles’ hands himself, holding them as if they were more fragile and thinner than crystal.

Stiles watched his hands move and barely had any feeling in his own. He was only vaguely aware of the wall of heat that was Derek’s body in front of him, of his muscles flexing under his movements, of the edge of his clenched jaw.

What had he done?

“That’s it,” said Derek, turning off the water. He dried his hands, then led him to the bar stool, helping him up. “Come on, arms up.”

Stiles lifted his arms as if in a trance. He didn’t understand why Derek asked him that at first, but then felt the cold seep into his skin as the man took off his shirt.

Oh. Right. It was probably covered in blood, too.

Derek’s shadow disappeared then returned a couple of seconds later. Something warm and wet touched his face — his own t-shirt, Stiles realized. Derek was cleaning his face. From chunks of meat, fat, and blood.

Stiles lifted his eyes.

Derek met his gaze for a fraction of a second, then returned to cleaning.

“Derek.”

“Shh.”

Stiles shut up. His eyes stung, and his whole body was breaking out in shivers.

Derek noticed, of course, always weirdly attuned to Stiles’ body. Putting the t-shirt aside, he hopped over into the living room and came back with a blanket in his hands, which he then promptly put around Stiles.

God, he probably thought Stiles was such a fucking freak. Derek was probably in shock himself.

“On a scale of one to ten,” said Stiles in a shaking voice, “how much do you want me to leave and never come back?”

He was probably going to be told to pack his things in three, two—

Stiles didn’t expect Derek to step between his spread legs and sweep him into a tight hug.

Fuck, he didn’t need to add tears to the horror scene, not now.

“Never joke about it,” said Derek into his ear, grabbing his waist harder. “Never.”

“But—”

“I swear to god, if I have to lock you inside, I would.”

Stiles wanted to curl into himself from the heaviness of his voice. He dug his fingers into Derek’s shoulders and sagged against him with his chin against the man’s shoulder.

“So we’re going to, like, pretend nothing happened? Is that what you mean?” he asked.

“No. No, of course, not. Look at yourself, you’re trembling like a leaf.” Derek rubbed his back as if it would help. As if anything would help. “I told you, it’s okay. You’ve just had a very intense dream and sleepwalked.”

Oh, Derek. Stiles was honestly flattered and a little bit horrified by the lengths Derek was willing to go to delude himself into thinking Stiles was normal.

Fuck, Derek was such a naive human. Stiles couldn’t let him think that. It was simply dangerous.

“Derek, sleepwalking or not, you cannot tell me it wasn’t freaky.”

“It’s not.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake—”

“And it’s my fault anyway.”

“How the fuck was that—”

“How are you feeling?” Not listening to a word he said, Derek put his palm against Stiles’ stomach, rubbing the skin with his thumb. “Nausea? Pain?”

“N-no?”

“Do you still want to eat?”

Now Stiles really looked at him. What was he supposed to say? Wasn’t that kind of a strange question? Stiles was, like, fifty percent sure that when humans got food poisoning they were put on a diet of chicken broth and crackers. Did Derek think he had just got poisoned?

What was he supposed to say?

“Uhh,” Stiles blinked at him. Well, maybe if he went for the truth… Derek was human after all, he had to know what to do. “Kind of?”

“Okay, that is fine.” Derek nodded at him as if talking to an idiot. “Sit here, baby, okay? Just relax. I’m going to cook something for you.”

After pressing a light apologetic kiss on Stiles’ forehead, Derek left him sitting alone. Stiles watched in confusion (mixed with something shaking, warm, and aching) as he marched to the fridge, took something out, then plopped the pan right on the stove.

He always loved watching Derek cook. He did it with a strange grace, his movements quick but precise. The muscles on his back and shoulders played delicately in the low warm light; his grey pants rode low on his hips. Derek was cooking for him.

For him.

Stiles crossed his arms on the table and laid his forehead on his hands.

Breathing, listening. Trying not to fall apart completely.

He didn’t deserve this man. Never did and never will.

Something hissed and sizzled. Fat or oil bubbled on the hot surface, sputtering droplets everywhere. Soon, the kitchen filled with a delicious smell of…

Grilled meat?

Stiles looked up.

Derek stood by the stove, leaning with one hand on the counter, and holding the steak with tongs in another. He remained silent as he cooked, turning the meat and pressing it on all sides. Shoved it in the oven, then stared with a blank faraway gaze at the stove as it cooked. Took it out after a few minutes, back into the pan, basting it with butter, garlic, and some herbs.

Not a single word, until…

“Here.”

…a plate with a perfectly grilled juicy rare steak was put in front of him.

Stiles stared at the bronzed buttered surface of the meat, then swallowed the spit that instantly filled his mouth.

He licked his lips, cleared his throat, then turned a hesitant gaze up at Derek, who was watching him like a hawk.

“I can eat it?”

Derek’s eyes drilled into his.

“I cooked it for you.”

Stiles wiggled in his seat. “Yeah, no, I meant…” he had to keep his act as a human so Derek would have to bear stupid questions. “Can I eat it so soon after?..”

Derek was… yep, still staring. “Kitten,” he started with a strange smile on his lips that didn’t match his wild gaze, “you bet your pretty ass you can eat anything I put in front of you. I’ll always give you the best. That steak you ate? “Premium” doesn’t begin to cover it. I’m also quite sure that your stomach can handle it. You’re human, yes, but you’re still a predator.”

Stiles’ whole body went still as a statue.

Does he kn—

No. No, stupid, how would he fucking know? If Derek knew what kind of predator Stiles really was, he would run away instead of trying to soothe him with a treat.

“I know what you need, Stiles,” Derek added, a touch softer than before. “Eat.”

Derek had no idea what Stiles needed. However, this time, he guessed right.

Stiles licked his lips discreetly, pushed the plate towards himself, and began eating.

He ate the whole thing under Derek’s heavy stare. When Stiles offered him the bite, he only stretched his lips in this secretive smile of his, this time full of… pride? Satisfaction? Pleasure? Whatever it was, Derek refused.

If only Stiles allowed himself to dream, it would be of this. Of Derek accepting him for who he was. A predator.

Yet, usually, the human-eating predators didn’t have the same respect as others. And no matter how much it was romanticized, Stiles did not want to die from his lover’s hand.

[fattributes]

Homemade Vegan Chocolate Croissants

[ricomola]

[voidbeau]

"Vegan" Argos who sources all of his meat from happily willing humans and even other void residents so his meat is cruelty free.

"Vegan" Argos who also makes use of the meat plants via similar methods as above and says all his meat is plant based.

The implied cannibalism and overall consumption of sentient beings in general is already dodgy enough, but let's assume "vegan" Argos is also not above coercion when finding "willing" donors.

Vegan Argos who is very much a butcher with a taste for flesh.

Thank you for coming to my Ted talk.

None of this means anything.

I'm sleepy.

[amanrafromveranda]

The last dance!

She’s as tender as a rose.

The last dance!

The timeless one is touching her gently...

_

A little bit late for Christmas, but still...I wanted to draw something with Schandmaul's song by New Year's Eve. Happy holidays everyone!

[vampyrtism]

hi. another alien

Todd's liek the most fitting 2 be an alien i think . He's got the powers and he's a vegan so thats close enough as is tbh.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Imagine the Cannibal Vaggie AU version of the Vaggie/Lute fight. Lute doesn't lose her arm from getting pinned under rubble. She has Vaggie pinned when Susan suddenly rips her arm off with her teeth. "Get away from my grand daughter, you bitch!"

AWWW~ (original au credit to @sunsetcougar)

Vaggie: "Abuela, don't eat that. You don't know where it's been."

Susan: "...heaven?"

Vaggie: "Yeah and that place sucks. She probably tastes like cheap rainbow sprinkles and internalized homophobia."

Susan: "BLEH."

Lute: "THE ONLY THING I'VE INTERNALIZED IS HOW IM GOING TO KILL Y-"

Susan: "Don't interrupt me an' my granddaughter!" (smacks lute with lute's own arm) "Now where were we."

Vaggie: "Not eating the arm. Throwing it in the trash where she belongs."

Lute: “TRASH? HA! YOU SHOULD’VE STAYED BY THE DUMPSTER WHERE I LEFT Y-” (smack) “Ow!”

Susan: (sighs) "If you say so, sweatmeats... unless..."

Susan: (offering the arm) "Enemies are an essential part of a young woman's diet. Are you sure-"

Vaggie: (GROANING) "We've been OVER this...!"

Susan: "Just a tASTE!"

Vaggie: "Gran, I am NOT a cannibal! I'm never gonna BE a cannibal!"

Susan: "How d'you know that if you've never TRIED IT!"

Rosie, in the distance: "Don't pressure her please, Susan~ She's allowed to make her own life choices~!"

Susan: "IS SHE YOUR ADOPTED GRANDDAUGHTER OR IS SHE MINE? EH?? WHO'S GRANDKID IS SHE ROSIE? WHO'S GRANDKID??"

Vaggie: "oh for fucks- Look, if I ever try it someday it's NOT gonna be with LUTE."

Lute: "OH AM I NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR A FAILURE LIKE YOU TO EVEN EAT? IS THAT IT!?"

Charlie: "Is, uh, everything going okay over there Vaggie?"

Vaggie: "Fine babe. Family stuff."

Susan: "Charlie you need to get off you royal furry goat butt and help your girlfriend get an actual balanced diet. Metaphorical eat outs are not enough for a young lady.”

Vaggie: “GRAN!!!”

Charlie: “Aahaha… I’m kinda busy getting beat up at the moment, but I’ll check in with her later ok!”

Susan: “Good.” (casually tosses lute’s arm) “I like her.”

Vaggie: (dying) “I hate my life.”

Lute: “GOOD.”

Vaggie: “Not because of you.”

Lute: “DAMNIT"

[shipping-all-ships]

Kate having a habit if hiding behind Adam/Michael when things get a little too much and Lucifer absolutely frothing at the mouth when Jack starts doing the same thing.