#egg-based cake

[parveens-kitchen]

Walnut Tea Cake

Walnut Tea Cake – A Warm Hug in Every Slice.There’s something about a simple tea cake that feels like coming home.Today, I’m sharing one of my all-time favorites: Walnut Tea Cake, made extra special with the warm sweetness of brown sugar, three rich eggs, and wholesome walnuts. No fancy ingredients, no complicated steps — just honest, comforting flavors perfect for a quiet afternoon with a cup of…

[vegan-nom-noms]

TREACLE CHOCOLATE CAKE (VEGAN)

[aparticularbandit]

I don't know how to put into words that there is a line beyond which I want credit for things.

Like. Guitar Hero being an inspiration for Ibuki's shift from Light Music to Screamo isn't something I need or want credit for.

General headcanon I don't need or want credit for.

But there's. there's a line beyond which. and it's not a strict thing? it's intensely variable?

Heck, even when I write Jess stuff, if I'm referencing Willow's headcanon for Roger, I credit that. If I'm using Alana in Jess stuff, I'm probably drawing huge inspiration from Kat's Alana, and I credit that.

I don't know how to put into words what that line is, and I feel bad because I feel like I sound like I'm saying no, don't use my shit, which is not. what I'm saying.

And I don't want people to feel like oh, we have to ask Bandit permission to use their stuff, because like. that's not. strictly speaking true either.

-sighs-

It's just complicated.

[autistickaitovocaloid]

i'm just like yuuya sakazaki i too am being haunted by eggs

[zincbot]

the day of/after a grocery shop is so great. ehee i have so many treats

[diabetesreversalprograminindia]

Is Vegan Carrot Cake Good for Diabetics?

When we think of dishes made from carrots, Gajar ka Halwa usually tops the list. But did you know there’s another delicious and healthier option? Yes, it’s the carrot cake—and not just any version, but a Vegan Carrot Cake that’s perfect for diabetics too!

What is a Carrot?

Carrots, known scientifically as Daucus carota, are root vegetables most commonly seen in orange but also found in red, purple, and yellow. Originally from Persia, they’re now grown across Asia and Europe. Carrots are loaded with beta-carotene, fiber, and antioxidants—making them a great choice for health-conscious individuals.

Why Try Vegan Carrot Cake?

Carrot cake is a wonderful way to enjoy the natural sweetness and texture of carrots. And now, you can do it the healthy way! Our vegan version is made without eggs, milk, or any dairy products. It’s also free from refined sugar, making it ideal for people managing diabetes or following a plant-based diet.

What’s more, this recipe includes khapli wheat flour, known for its low glycemic index, and soft dates for natural sweetness. The result? A moist, soft, and flavorful cake that’s healthy without compromising on taste. You can also make mini cupcakes with the same batter for easy snacking.

Get the Full Recipe

Ready to try this wholesome dessert? Click here to explore the full Vegan Carrot Cake Recipe with detailed instructions and ingredients.

https://www.freedomfromdiabetes.org/blog/post/vegan-carrot-cake-recipe/1448

Whether you’re vegan, diabetic, or just love nutritious baking, this cake is sure to win your heart—and your taste buds!

[fingertipsmp3]

I’m not vegan at all but some people are truly soooo fucking weird about vegan food and I don’t understand it in the slightest

[hle24]

Vegan Orange Cake

Are you craving a moist, fluffy, and citrusy dessert? This vegan orange cake is the perfect treat! Made with fresh orange juice and simple pantry staples, this cake is not only easy to make but also bursting with natural orange flavor. Whether you’re baking for a special occasion or just a cozy afternoon snack, this recipe will become your go-to favorite. Plus, it’s egg-free, dairy-free, and…

[peachesofteal]

Raspberry Girl Previous + masterlist + AO3 Simon Riley/female reader CW: 18+ intoxication, sexual content, daddy kink, caretaking, blurry lines of consent.

You’re painfully unaware, though to you, he’s sure it's bliss. 

In your own little world, you stand at the long wooden table, fingers moving across the trackpad of a laptop, a pair of too big glasses sliding down your nose. The left lens is smudged, the smear only getting worse every time you push them up with the back of your hand. There’s a whirlwind of stuff around you, bowls and bags and measuring cups, cracked egg shells and sprinkles scattered across the wood, multi colored icing separated into different containers, and you're so into your work you don't even realize he's in the doorway. 

He almost feels bad for scaring you when he clears his throat. Almost. 

“Oh my god,” you whirl, hand pressed to your chest, half ready to bolt. “S-sorry, I didn’t- I didn’t know you were there.” 

Is that anyway to say hi to your daddy sweetheart?

“Good morning.” He eyes the twenty four ounce mason jar to your left. It’s one quarter full, coffee and cream swirling to the bottom. Too much caffeine. 

“Good morning, hi.” You smile, sweet and shy but more emboldened. It’s been a few days since he fed you bites of lemon meringue pie, a few days since he went home and stroked his cock to the memory of your mouth parting for him, eyes half lidded looking up through your lashes. 

Since then, you’ve a bit more brave, encouraged by his careful coaxing, text messages at night and throughout the day to check in, visits in the morning as he heads to base. 

He’s leading his little lamb right into her shepherd’s arms. 

“What’re you working on?” 

“Funfetti birthday cake.” You slide your glasses back up your face. They’re a mess and he can’t resist fixing it, pulling them off, wiping the lenses with bottom of his shirt. You freeze. Little deer in his headlights. 

“Didn’t know you wore glasses.” He places them back where they belong, righting them when they slip, and confirming what he already knew. They’re too big. You need new ones. 

“Th-thank you. I do for reading. And… er, screens. Reading on screens, mostly, though I need them for books too so I guess just… reading in general.” He understands the pause now, the moments when you’ve become self conscious, embarrassed, or you’re looking for the words you need, anxiously trying to piece it all together, step into a skin that doesn't quite fit. 

A rhythm the world doesn't understand. Too cruel, impatient, cold, it has no care for fragile things, too easily reflecting a mirror of his former self. 

He files the bit about you needing to wear glasses when you read, another notation in the long list he’s already memorized, organized, and moves onto his next inquiry. “Who’s the birthday cake for?” 

“Mara. It’s her birthday. They’re…” you make a face like you’ve sniffed spoiled milk, “we’re going out to a pub to celebrate.” He stiffens. On one hand, he’s proud of you. On the other, the idea of you in a pub raises the hair on the back of his neck, has him a bit out of his mind. 

He’s not interested in clipping your wings, but going out to a pub with no one to watch over you? Not bloody likely. “Tonight?” 

“Mhm.” You’re rubbing a stick of butter in a round pan. “Funfetti is the classic birthday cake. You know, the vanilla cake with the sprinkles?” He shakes his head. “Oh. Well, um, it is. It's mostly a kid thing now, but I think it's the ultimate birthday cake. Birthdays are supposed to be fun but you know... they kind of suck when you're an adult. Anyway... funfetti is fun so, that's why...” 

“Maybe you can save me a slice. Where are you going?” 

“Save you…" your brows crease as you try to process what he's said. "Doc’s.” You’ve dropped the stick of butter abruptly, greasy fingers gripping the edge of the pan. Doc’s. It’s a younger crowd, a bit posh, but still a bit dark. Has a bit of an edge. 

It’s been a few weeks since he’s gotten a pint with Kyle and Johnny anyway. 

He smiles, strokes the backs of his knuckles down your cheek, satisfied when you lean in for more, disappointed the few minutes he had to drop in are now over. “I’ve gotta go baby, be good for me.” Your mouth drops open so wide he thinks he might be able to fit his cock in it. 

“Oh, okay. I- I will.” 

What did you forget?

Daddy. I will, daddy.

“That ‘er?” Kyle motions with his beer bottle towards the table where you stand nervously at the edge, floral flecked dress swaying just above your knees. You've looped a white ribbon through your hair, the beacon of a gentle soul that seems to be calling out to every muppet in the building, every wandering eye fueling a fire burning in his blood. 

“Yeah.” His stomach is sour. Even a neat pour of whiskey and pint didn’t settle him. 

You’re trying so hard. Smiling and nodding and listening to everyone, clutching your drink like it’s a lifeline. Mara seems to understand the grace you need, but no one else in the group gets it, and some of them give you weird looks, or worse, look at each other when you’re not paying attention in annoyance. Your only friend at the table catches a few of them and shoots stern glares as she shakes her head, but it doesn’t change much. 

“She looks uncomfortable,” Johnny grunts, his scrupulous eye never missing a thing. Someone asks you a question, and you stumble over your answer, looking away to the wall when a girl to your left blatantly smirks, and then sneers directly in your face. Simon’s blood boils. 

“She’s different from them, it’s hard for her.” It's the easiest way to explain it. You’re one in a million. His one in a million. 

The table laughs at something, and you frantically flick over each person’s face, trying to pick up on a joke you clearly did not understand. Eventually, you just settle for another smile, resigned to watch it all from the outside as conversation flows from person to person, but never towards you. 

Sweet girl. He wants to take you home where you’re safe and happy and carefree, where you can be yourself and not have to worry about trying to keep up or facing everyone’s judgement. Where he can hold your perfect and precious heart in his hand and protect it. Where he can fuck the memory of this night right out of you, bounce you on his cock until the only thing you know how to do is come for him, over and over again. 

He misses the exact moment the cake appears among the stacks of shot glasses. Your anxiety ramps up as everyone starts to eat their slices, shoulders high beneath your ears, fingers knotted together too tight. It’s an eternity before the first person looks at you, mouth half full and thrilled, their enthusiasm alleviating some of the weight that's been sitting on his chest, and yours. Whatever they say seems to lessen the weight because you’re smiling again, excited, and as more people turn your way, the smile turns to a full on beam, your words from the other night echoing in his ears. 

I like feeding people. 

Another hour passes before he decides to call it, the group now spread across the pub, scattered around different tables, at the bar, outside smoking. You’re in a corner with your back to the room talking to Mara, and when he appears in her line of sight, she spots him immediately, grabbing your arm, mouthing something he doesn’t catch. 

You turn- 

And light up like a fucking Christmas tree. 

“Captain Riley!” The alcohol has made you bold, slow synapses firing less rapidly, providing a longer lead time, somewhat preventing you from second guessing or withholding yourself. 

“Hi baby.”

“I’m just gonna…” Mara tries to move away but you reach for her. 

“Happy Birthday Mar. Thanks for inviting,” you hiccup, “me.” She gives you a squeeze. 

“Thanks for coming, and for the cake, it was amazing. Made me feel like I was kid, ya know? When birthdays really mattered.” Sadness flickers in her eyes, and then disappears in a glaze of intoxication. “Anyway, see you Monday?” 

“Yep.” She gives you one more hug before slipping away, and you sigh. 

“She loved her cake.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” You’ve got this dreamy look on your face, sleepy and sweet, a little kitten who’s ready to curl up for a nap. 

Cast a line. See if you’re biting. 

“How’re you gettin’ home?” 

“An uber?” You lick your lips. “Or… uh. A Lyft?” You lurch to the side and he darts forward to steady you, movement too fast for you to track, all of it ending up as a surprise, like you weren’t even in your body for a moment. “Th-thanks.” You study his hand, where it sits on your arm. “You know you’re so big?” His lips twitch to the side of his mouth. 

“Yeah sweetheart. I’m big.” You’re still staring at his hand. “D’you need a ride home?” 

“Huh?” He's held this in the back of his mind all night as a possibility, built a tentative plan for this opportunity too golden to pass up. No fucking way are you going home in a rideshare or with anyone else. 

“I’m taking you home.” You shrug at the declaration with little trepidation and take his hand. 

So sweet and full of trust. 

He never specified which home. 

When the gravel of his driveway crunches under the truck’s tires, you don’t stir, and you don’t wake up when he turns it off or opens the passenger side door, your head lolling against your shoulder. 

“Sweetheart,” He keeps his voice low, reaching across your lap to unbuckle your seatbelt, brushing against your breasts, soft exhales puffing little clouds across his skin. “We’re here.” 

“Hmm?” you crack an eye open and then shake your head, “no ‘m sleeping.” Your cheek is warm in his palm, and he kisses it, trying to rouse you, gauge your reaction. Your awareness. Your nose wrinkles. “Stop.” 

“C’mon, you'll be more comfortable inside.” You whimper when he jostles you, pinning a palm to your temple. 

“My head hurts.” Poor baby. 

“I know,” he pulls you up out of the seat and into his chest, carefully supporting your balance. He’s taking liberties now, wrapping an arm around your waist, curling his fingers along the nape of your neck, brushing his lips across your forehead when you whine, high pitched and crackled, broken under the weight of too much alcohol and need for more sleep. “I know baby, Let’s get you into bed.” You lay your cheek on his chest and sigh. 

“Okay.” 

“Spit.” He holds the cup under your lips and you do as he asks diligently, bubbly white toothpaste getting caught on the corner of your mouth. 

Getting you upstairs and into his room went just as he anticipated. A little anxiety, a little uncertainty, all of it gently soothed until you were sitting on his bed and he was taking off your shoes, reassuring you, promising everything was okay and you were right where you belonged. 

“You’re safe with me sweetheart. I’m going to take care of you.” 

Now, you’re perched on the closed toilet lid in his bathroom as he finishes brushing your teeth, sleepy and serene, naked thighs peeking out from beneath the hem of his t-shirt. 

You’re completely unguarded, vulnerable, another layer peeled back, another piece he lays claim to. 

His sweet little fawn. 

He knew all along this was underneath the weight you carried. That when you finally felt safe and cherished and cared for, you’d bloom, be yourself without the pressure of everything else. Deep down, beneath the expectations of how everyone thinks you should talk, or act, or behave, behind all the coping mechanisms you’ve taught yourself, buried under mountains of complexity, is his precious little girl who needs her hand held and her tears wiped. Who’s brilliant and beautiful and different, and has never had the space to just be. 

Now, you'll be able to do just that while he takes care of the rest. He'll decide. You’ll have boundaries. You’ll have rules. You’ll have daddy and he’ll take away the endless pressure that closes in on you from all sides, he'll ensure you get what you need. There will be less worry, less fear and unlimited opportunities to be. 

“My face.” You tilt your chin back with your eyes closed, and he chuckles. 

“What about it?” 

“My,” hiccup, “makeup.” He turns the tap on warm, testing the temp until he’s satisfied, and soaks a washcloth. 

“Keep your eyes closed.” You sit still as he works, dabbing away everything on your eyelids and lashes, wiping underneath to catch anything he missed. “There we go.” You sway in his grip and slur.

“Bed now?” 

“Last thing.” There’s a glass of water and naproxen on the counter, and you swallow them without question. He hides his grimace. That will need to be addressed in the morning. When you try to put the glass back on the counter, he shakes his head. “All of it,” you manage to get the rest of the water down, and he squeezes your hip. “That’s my girl.” 

“You’re warm.” Your arm is slung over his middle, a cold foot tucked between his knees, mouth half open on his pillow. Completely uninhibited, nearly asleep. 

His cock is hard against his stomach beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, aching with a fullness he can’t relieve. He’s been hard since he undressed you, peeled your bra off and held you to his chest as he unhooked it, felt your perfect, pretty breasts and nipples against him as he tugged his shirt over your head. You were bashful, buried your face into his neck with a trembling giggle, but refused to let go, sunk your fingernails into his biceps as your hands shook. His sweet, shy girl. 

He rubs your back, works his fingers in the knots between your shoulders, watching your lashes flutter as you try to fight sleep.  

“Tomorrow…” There’s a last minute flash of uncertainty, and he presses his lips to your forehead. 

“It’s okay, we’ll talk at breakfast sweetheart. It’s time for bed.” Tomorrow. You'll be fighting a battle tomorrow, a hangover, anxiety, an endless spiral of confusion and doubt, but he'll be here to guide you through it. 

The only way out is through. 

It will be a lot easier on both of you if you're able to get some sleep. 

“Yeah, ’s past my bedtime.” You whisper with a hazy, playful smile on the wisp of a giggle. "We should have pancakes for breakfast." Your easy, peaceful state encourages him to go a step further. Cast a line, see if you’re biting. 

"If you close your eyes and go to sleep, Daddy will make you pancakes in the morning." You nod with a yawn, tucking your face between the pillow and his shoulder. 

"Mmkay then. Night." It's not a protest, it's not a flinch, it's not a moment of disgust, and satisfaction roars, rips through him like bullet, this instinct and desire long honed finally settling in the place where it belongs. In you. 

"Goodnight baby." He stares at the ceiling as you disappear into dreams and plans his mission. Plots his checkpoints, sets his objectives. Lead, decide, control. 

Bring you home. Permanently. 

[parveens-kitchen]

Chocolate Chiffon Cake

Chocolate Chiffon Cake – Light, Airy & Perfect for Spring. There’s something magical about a chiffon cake—the way it rises tall, its delicate sponge-like texture, and how it feels almost weightless when you take a bite. This Chocolate Chiffon Cake is everything a spring celebration calls for: light yet rich, with just the right amount of chocolate. Topped with fresh mango and strawberries and a…

[vegan-nom-noms]

Chocolate Banana Easter Speckle Cake (Vegan Egg-Free)

[yoonjae20]

Danny deeply distrusts the Justice League

Based on the wonderful @saltymarshmall0w 's prompt.

I really feel like they aren't enough fanfics or prompts where Danny dislikes the Justice League — and continues to dislike them even after everything (Anti-Ecto Acts) is revealed and taken care of. (Or maybe I'm not looking in the right places — if you guys have any recommendations put them in the Tags or Comments!)

Read on ao3. Masterpost

After many years Danny has finally retired — sure he had to leave everything he loved and that was familiar to him behind for it, but it was worth it. He had a small little house that was his own, he would water his plants every morning and make small talk with his neighbors. Everything was fine. 

Everything turns not so fine, when there’s a sudden knock on his door. Expecting it to be one of his neighbors — for example needing eggs or flour (a neighbor’s kid had needed eggs to bake one of her parents a cake and Danny had been more than willing to spare the few she needed) — he opens the door without a second thought.

Only to almost immediately want to close it again. 

Because that’s the Justice League standing in front of his door. And that can mean nothing good.

Before Danny can slam the door closed, Superman‘s shoe slides in between the door frame, blocking his escape. The smile the man shoots him is probably meant to be reassuring, but the only thing Danny feels is dread. 

To most civilians the Justice League is seen as a beacon of hope — but to Danny? He knows the bitter truth. When he needed them the most they turned his back on him before chasing him across half the globe calling him a villain without even hearing his side of the story. They handed him over the GIW for Ancient’s Sake. He would have died if it weren’t for Tucker and Sam. (He may not have scars to show for it but he can still feel his chest burn when he thinks back to it.) Not that they can remember that though. He still doesn’t trust them. 

“You are Danny Fenton, correct?” Superman asks and Danny stiffens. 

Fenton — not Nightingale like he has changed his surname into to escape his parents influence and leave everything behind. 

“Yes,” he says warily — seeing no point in lying. Considering Batman is lingering behind Superman the Detective would figure it out instantly. 

“And you used to be Amity’s Park’s vigilante Phantom?”

Danny grips the door frame, knuckles white. What’s their point? Are they trying to intimidate him?

“Yes,” he grits out. 

“We were told that you are the one we should seek out in matters involving Ghosts and the Infinite Realms,” Superman continues, but Danny doesn’t let him finish.

“I’m retired,” he interrupts. “Find someone else.”  

“There’s a world-ending event,” Superman says like that would convince Danny. Like Danny hadn’t lived though so many of them — had to prevent them from happening without anyone’s help every single time. Guilt-tripping much? “Even if you don’t want to fight — we need you as an advisor.”

Danny snorts, shaking his head. 

“Go take up the matter with the Justice League Dark then.” 

Danny moves to close the door, but still Superman’s foot doesn’t budge. He could probably brute-force his way through this — but Danny’s tired and he’s not in the mood to explain to his neighbors why his door is broken and he needs to do repairs.

He glares at them and to his surprise Superman actually takes a step back — but still not enough to be able to close the door. 

Danny hasn’t transformed into Phantom since he left Amity Park. Had kept that part of himself locked away — would have separated his Ghost Self from himself if he didn’t know he would be selfish for that. Had ignored his Obsession even if it screamed at him — had pushed it away in his Human Form even if it muted all the colors around him and it meant that every breath was a painful wheeze.

Faced with this situation he almost wants to break the promise he made to himself — but he can’t.

There is no GIW anymore —  Danny had made sure of that. He had wiped all of their files and his parents published research with the help of Technus. He had dismantled both portals to the Ghost Zone and made sure no one would be able to replicate it. But Danny also knows the Justice League — knows how much Superman’s punches hurt, how it feels to get mind controlled — they could overpower him in an instant if he twitched as much as into the wrong direction.  

He really doesn’t have a choice here, doesn’t he? If he doesn’t go out of his free will — they will force him with any means necessary, of that much he is sure. 

His gaze trails to his neighbor’s house and the swing in their backyard. And if they are right and he turns them away — is he sure he won’t feel any guilt if something happens that he could have prevented? Sometimes Danny really hates his Martyr Complex. 

Danny sighs, defeated.

“What do you need my help for?”

They had liked their new neighbor despite the fact that he barely left his house other than to water his plants. They had known that the young man was sickly. He looked like death wormed him over and was weak on his feet— his ice-blue eyes dull. His smile barely held any warmth in it.

Still they invited them over after he had given their daughter eggs to bake the cake for their birthday. They learned that he was kind and had escaped to their small village to live a quiet life. 

When the young man came to tell them that he would be out of town for a few days and to please water his plants if they could, they were worried.

“Are you sure that you are fine, son?” they asked and touched the man’s forehead — but it was icily cold like the rest of their skin had always been. “You look even paler than usual.”

The young man had only given them a half-hearted smile and affirmed them that he was fine

Their daughter's excited steps had hurried behind them and she tugged on their pants after the man had left. 

“Was that Uncle Danny?” the girl asked. “Can I play with him?”

They gave their daughter a weak smile. 

“Uncle Danny is busy for a few days,” they explained. “Later, okay? How about you draw him a picture while we wait for him to come back? So he has something to look forward to?” 

Their daughter nodded and raced back to the living room, searching for supplies, while they continued looking out of the window. They can’t help but have a bad feeling about this.  

It’s unnerving how quiet the young man is. 

There are no easy smiles, sassy quips and puns like from the few shaky phone videos they had pulled from the internet about Phantom. 

He’s meticulous. Probably even more than Batman — and that is a statement. There had been a deep mistrust in the eyes when they had located him and asked him to help them. It’s evident in every step he makes. He double-, even triple-checks every single evidence, every single sentence, every single word they say. 

Nothing is left unturned as he works the way though the situation like if he is dealing with a case. He never stops moving, always doing something — reading through heavy leather-bound books or through their reports. His heart rate is so slow that Clark sometimes wonders if the boy is still breathing at all. 

When the young man had asked them if they spoke to the leader regarding the war declaration and the reasons behind them, he had clicked his tongue when they told him no.

He hadn’t let anyone help him when he drew out the summoning cycle — it looked even more intricate and complicated than they had seen from Zatanna or Constantine. When he had spoken the words for the spell,  his words had sounded ancient and undescribable — hushed whispers following every single word. He clasped his hands and only opened his eyes when he spoke the last word, his eyes burning a deep green. 

The cycle goes up in green fire before a form appears — Clark recognizes the Ghost from the declaration. 

The man’s cold gaze sweeps over the Justice League before it stops on Phantom. He smirks, bowing his head slightly.

“I greet the Prince of the Infinite Realms.”

“Cut the crap Fright Knight,” Phantom's voice is steel-hard. “We both know I refused that position.”

The man tilts his head but nods.

“Very well,” he says. “I greet Phantom, savior of the Infinite Realms.”

Phantom grits his teeth like he wants to refuse that title too before he shakes his head. He gestures to the Justice League.

“Explain.”

“We are just paying back what has been done to us,” Fright Knight claims. “Vita brevis, ars longa, occasio praeceps, experimentum periculosum, iudicium difficile.”

“Life is short, art is long, opportunity fleeting, experiment treacherous, judgment difficult,” Diana translates for them. 

“I see the Daughter of the Queen of the Amazons knows her arts,” the man’s voice has a hint of mockery. “Humanum genus est avidum nimis auricularum. Ignorantia legis non excusat:”

Diana’s eyebrows knit together as she listens. 

“Mankind is too greedy for lies. Ignorance of the law does not excuse,” her voice is almost a whisper. 

“I would have thought you would know of this Phantom,” Fright Knight addresses the young man again. “But now seeing your state, you probably didn’t feel the call for the announcement either. Is there a reason why you are starving yourself?”

Phantom doesn’t meet any of their eyes as he answers.

“That is unimportant to this situation.”

Fright Knight’s lips twitch back into a grin. 

“If the savior of the Infinite Dreams claims so, then I have no choice but to accept it.” He turns back to the Justice League. “Si vis pacem, para bellum.”

“If you want peace, prepare for war.”

“When have we been ignorant?” Batman finally steps in. 

Fright Knight huffs out a dark laugh.

“When has mankind not been ignorant?” Fright Knight questions. “When your government captured my brethren and tortured them, where were you? When they declared us as non-sentient and staged war against us, where were you? When they threatened to destroy our home, where were you?”

The man’s eyes seem to burn as he repeats himself.

“Where were you?”

Clark and the rest of the League are shocked to silence. 

“Now that the danger has passed, why should we just forgive you? Why should we forget?” Fright Knight continues. “If we are not worthy enough to be counted towards mankind that means we just have to rewrite the rules. And since we were never given the chance to negotiate, that means by force.”

“The Meta-Protection Acts-” 

“Only count towards those that are alive.” Fright Knight interrupts Batman. “After all, how can the dead feel any emotions such as pain? I’m sure if you ask your government they will hand you a lot of pretty reports on the biased experiments that prove so.” 

“But that’s-” Clark starts but Fright Knight doesn’t let him finish.

“Despicable? When has that ever stopped mankind?” Fright Knight asks. “We can talk if there isn't a law that states that we can be eradicated without any consequences.”

Before either of them can stop him, Fright Knight swishes his cape made out of purple fire and disappears. Clark faintly asks himself if that is how other people feel when Batman does that in front of their noses. 

Seeing no other option the entire League turns back to Phantom who hasn’t said a single word since the Ghost went on his tirade.

“Phantom-” Batman tries, but the young man’s eyes burn with so much hate that the normally stoic man stocks in his words. 

“I don’t have to tell you anything,” Phantom seethes. “You heard him. Now finally do your jobs right for once.”

Then he leaves the room without a single glance back.

Clark gulps as they look at each other.

“I feel like we made a mistake.”

When the news declares the Anti-Ecto Acts as abolished, Danny feels nothing but exhaustion. The Justice League barely managed to avoid a large-scale — and very justified war. 

Danny leans back tiredly on his sofa. His eyes trail to the drawing his neighbor’s daughter had given him and the first genuine smile in months graces his lips.

“What I don’t do for mankind,” he sighs before he closes his eyes. 

[rayholmes]

Pancakes - Bacon Potato Cakes with Ham Steak, Egg, and Sliced Avocado Hash brown potatoes form the base of these quick and hearty bacon potato cakes topped with ham steak, fried eggs, and avocado.

[kakashisbabymama218]

blowjobs w kakashi

thinking about husband!kakashi who stands shirtless in the middle of your kitchen, his sweats hanging dangerouly low on his hips, exposing the deep V that leads directly to the thing that's taken over your thoughts as you stand in front of your refrigerator, the door open but the ingredients long forgotten.

kakashi’s gaze is pointed down at the recipe in the cook book you brought earlier that day, to busy reading off the things you'll need in order to make the chocolate cake you've been craving these past few days, to notice the way you're staring at him with hungry eyes.

"—and two eggs" he finishes, putting the book on the counter and turning to get a mixing bowl out of the cabinet. he walks back over towards the counter and begins measuring out the flour and sugar, dumping the dry ingredients into the bowl as he reads what to do next.

you've finally snapped out of it, tired of not having kakashi's dick down your throat, closing the door to the fridge before walking towards him.

"hey-" he's cut off when you drop to your knees in front of him, mouth snapping shut as he watches you with a single curious eye.

you look up, eyes finding kakashi's as your hands reach out to squeeze his soft cock, feeling in harden slightly under your touch.

"can i?" you ask innocently, tongue poking out of your mouth to wet your dry lips. you accompany your question with another firm squeeze to his cock that's already beginning to swell.

"yes, please—fuck" kakashi sucks in a breath when your hands find the waistband of his pants, pulling them down just enough to free his heavy cock, that springs free and slaps against his stomach before swinging freely right in front of your face. back and forth as your eyes follow, hypnotized.

your mouth waters at the sight.

you take him in your hand, thumb just barely ghosting over his tip as you stroke him softly. kakashi watches as you bring the tip to your lips, placing a soft kiss to the tip as you hear him exhale shakily above you.

you kiss his tip again, feeling the way the bead of precum that’s began dripping from his tip smears along your bottom lip.

his hand finds the back of your head, but he doesn't push your head closer to his dick, instead he lets it rest there, using it as an anchor to keep him grounded, to keep him from busting the second you wrap your soft lips around him.

kakashi groans when your tongue licks a long stripe up the length of his dick, before it comes to circle his tip. you continue to suckle at his sensitive tip, licking and lapping and sucking as kakashi lets out moans and groans of pleasure that do nothing to help the throbbing between your legs.

kakashi lets you take your time, knowing how you like to explore every inch of his cock with your tongue before you take him down your throat. starting at his tip you move down his length, licking and sucking on the base until its wet with your spit, making the glide of your hand easier as you pump him slowly. you gently suck one of his balls into your mouth, as kakashi bucks his hips subconsciously, head thrown back in pleasure, mouth parted slight and eyes tightly shut as he loses himself to the feeling of your mouth on his dick.

the grip on your head tightens when you finally take him into your mouth, sinking down inch by inch until he's hitting the back of your throat and your nose is pressed against the thatch of white hairs. your eyes water instantly, throat constricting as you begin breathing through your nose, willing yourself to relax your throat around him as he slides in deeper and deeper until your nose is pressed against his pelvis.

kakashi moans loudly as his other hand comes up to grip your hair, shallowing thrusting his hips as he feels himself getting closer and closer to the edge. he’s lost in the feeling of your tongue and lips and mouth, the way you swallow around him as he fucks your face that his control slowly starts to dissolve.

you let your eyes flutter closed, mind empty, unable to focus on anything other than the feeling of kakashi filling your throat, pulling out before he’s pushing right back in, over and over again until you feel the familiar twitching right before kakashi's shooting his load directly down your throat, so deep you can barely even taste it. you swallow it down happily.

his hips have stopped moving, but his cock remains in your mouth as suck him through his orgasm, lapping at the few remaining drops that drip from his tip as kakashi moans above you.

[sparklystarrrr]

May I have some soft and romantic fluff with Deuce or Sebek with a fem!Snow white reader? (Gn reader is fine, too!)

Dopey and Grumpy

Synopsis: Just two silly boys and their soft girlfriend!

Contains: Deuce S., Sebek Z. x Fem! Snow White! Reader, separated, I hc Deuce has a chicken farm at home because it’s cute

Deuce Spade ~

Deuce often finds himself falling deeper and deeper in love with (y/n). Especially when he invites you over to his home and his girl is tending to his chickens, taking extra care of the small yellow chicks. The way the nuzzle into her palm and the sides of her legs was enough to make him turn into melted ice cream.

It just feels so domestic when (y/n) is assisting in collecting eggs and feeding the animals with him or his mom. The chicks literally follow the sound of her soft voice. He swears he’s living a fantasy. A very chickie and sweet fantasy.

Ace is absolutely making fun of Deuce based on how much he’s swooning over her. He literally grabs his heart and tears up from how sweet (y/n) is to not only him but his friends and family and his chickies. It’s like he’s getting cuteness overload from her daily.

He especially enjoys when (y/n) bakes for him or in general. He’s always the first to offer himself when she needs someone to get some more ingredients or be a taste tester.

~~~

He walked into the Heartslabyul kitchen where she usually was, often baking with Trey for an Unbirthday party. (y/n)’s pleasant smile was curled onto her glossy lips as she stirred the almost-ready cake batter. She reached to the counter to grab an egg when she noticed there were only two left! The recipe requested for at least four. Whatever was she to do!

As if her prayers were answered, her blue haired boyfriend bolted into the kitchen like detecting (y/n)’s distress was a sixth sense. “Deuce! It’s perfect that you’re here. You wouldn’t mind going out and buying a new carton of eggs, would you?” She asked softly.

“Yeah! I’ll get right to it babe, wait here! Love ya!” With that, Deuce bolted right out the door and in a matter of around five minutes he was back. It was almost comical, yet sweet nonetheless.

“I bought two cartons just in case.” The boy was clearly determined to help his girl. “Oh Deuce, thank you so much!!" The girl planted a delicate kiss onto his pale cheek. His face turned a hot red"Y-yeah! Of course babe, any time!" He said, clearly screaming internally at how soft her kiss was.

Sebek Zigvolt ~

He is constantly scaring away (y/n)’s little animals. He doesn’t mean to at all, but like, they’re just so quiet and he doesn’t realize her or the animals are there! (he’s been stalking inside a bush for the whole evening just looking at how softly she tends to the fauna in the courtyard of NRC)

Sebek just doesn’t understand how a human can be that delicate! I mean yeah okay humans in his eyes are fragile beings, but she was like a porcelain doll! Her calm aura had made his observation no better. The way birds and doe and small squirrels flock to her with the sound of her voice reminds him of the princess in the malevolent Witch of Thorns’ tale. With that sudden connection, he felt an obligation to protect (y/n) at any cost.

“Humans are but weak creatures! I shall keep watch over you at all cost to ensure the safety of your life. W-what?! NO I AM NOT WILLINGLY PROTECTING YOU HOW COULD YOU EVER SAY THAT!!!! THIS IS A DISGRACE TO MY DUTY OF PROTECTING LORD MALLEUS!!” Is what Sebek would loudly yell every time (y/n) lovingly pointed out he was being all sweet and protective over her.

~~~ (y/n) was once again in the courtyard if NRC. She was surrounded by small birds who assisted in collecting the apples she needed for her pie. A deer held her basket while the softly plopped the apples picked by the birds in. There was one particular apple she’d been eyeing though.

While the birds were busy with the current tree, she’d skipped onto the next. Her hands reached as high as possible, yet too far away from the juicy fruit dangling in front of her. That is when a brilliant idea struck her. ‘What if I just… climbed the tree?’

She was now stuck on the idea, putting it into full force as she gripped the sturdy branches of the apple tree. Her eyes glistened as she was just a few centimeters away from her prize. Suddenly, her foot slipped. “Ah!” “HUMAN!”

A gruff voice yelped as (y/n) fell into two muscular arms.”HOW IRRESPONSIBLE OF YOU DEAR HUMAN!!! I AM A MERE CALL AWAY YET YOU DECIDE TO PARTICIPATE IN DANGEROUS PHYSICAL LABOR?!?! I AM GETTING YOU TO A NURSE IMMEDIATE-“ “Sebby I’m fine now! There’s no need to worry, thanks to you!”

(y/n)’s sweet words turned his mind to mush in an instant. “O-oh, yes… But be sure to alert me before you decide to put yourself in such a dangerous position!” Sebek scolded, in a much softer voice than before. “I’ll be sure to!” She said.

As he set her down back onto her feet, she placed a peck onto his lips. “Now that you’re here, would you like to help me pick some apples? I’m making a pie!” Sebek’s face flushed pink,”Y-yes, of course! As a Knight, I would be honored to assist in your harvest!”

(He got that apple she’d been eyeing AND like a thousand more apples just because…)

[the-meme-monarch]

your latest dandy’s world drawings (about mental health angst and stuff) and in the tags you headcanoning the toons having a high resistance to (human) medication made me think about the fact that kinda on a base level all toons (in one way or another) are disabled in some way because wether we think about it or not, these characters being zany or strange or generally unexpected in their reactions is something commonly mocked and used as humor with characters who are disabled physically or mentally. Not to say there’s anything inherently wrong with toons, or any kind of other slapstick or randomness comedy but I think that it’s a fascinating thing to think about. BUT MY POINT BEING-

Your headcanon kinda plays along to my own thoughts and ideas of toons which that a toon is inherently disabled in some way and to try removing that would be like baking a cake without eggs (or other substitute), it’s fine on the outside and kinda ok, but the moment you cut into it or try engaging with it as a cake, it all crumbles apart

(the post for future reference) VERY TRUE sorry i kinda let this sit a couple days i think, i wanted to contribute but couldn’t think of the words, i still don’t really have them Succinctly I don’t feel, but i got these tags Very very recently and i think they’re also very apt

it’s just there three times to shorten the post SORRY AND ALSO i hope it okay i showcase your tags

but like, yeah mental illness being harder to treat in toons bc of just How They Are. bc they are Characters who were created to be that way, they have more defined personalities and characteristics to make them stand out in a cartoon. wether the mental illness was intentional or not, it’s all Written Into Them. i think you Could medicate a toon but like 1 you’d need a higher dosage to begin with and 2. it’s not going to help the issue like it would for a human. it’s kind of like. every part of them is a core part of them if that makes sense. being two dimensional means every part counts.

on a lighter note would it be funny if regular medicine also didn’t work on them. they have a cold but a benedryl would do nothing. they Need hot soup and a blanket. except weirdly, cold medicine off a spoon tends to work fine. nobody’s figured out why except ‘i guess it’s iconic enough in cartoons’