#You cook it in some milk or water and then it's done. It could not possibly be more easier of a thing to make. Only thing I would be-

[microwavetoaster-selfships]

"Porridge is a real thing??" I shout at my British F/Os

"Goldilocks is BRITISH!?" I shout at them in an even higher pitch

[cosmal]

diced

content eddie munson x reader

summary you slice your hand cutting limes. the kitchen hand you fancy, patches you up.

note woah aerial is back! this is an old blurb that i decided to finish. it's not that big but i thought i'd get it out! can't wait to write some more stuff xx

You try not to create a mess, and you try not to cry, and you try not to pass out. How could such a tiny cut produce so much blood?

You push through the swinging door out the back and almost bump into Eddie. Holding your bloodied hand in the other, you squeeze hard enough to pinch the torn skin. You're too focused on keeping your blood to yourself, the extra pressure doesn't faze you.

You can feel Eddie behind you and hope he's not watching you as you fiddle with the taps. They're old and missing their red and blue markings. You mess with them until the temperature is right and try not to smear red everywhere.

“Shit,” you curse and feel the beginnings of hot tears prick at your waterline. “So stupid.”

“Baby,” Eddie’s familiar nickname for you comes in quick and breaks the ringing in your ears, “fuck, what happened?” He stands behind you and presses his shoulder into yours. He smells of grease and sauteed onion.

“I was,” you swallow. Your throat dry with an upset you can tell is way out of your control now. You really hate blood. “I was cutting limes and slipped.”

The water stings, but not as bad as the lime juice did. The first tear still falls down your cheek and you wipe it away with your shoulder.

“How deep?” He says, firmer than you’ve ever heard him. He walks off around the corner and you don’t want him to. He comes back with the first aid kit. “Can I see it?”

You nudge the tap closed and turn to face him. You can’t look at the cut lest you feel even more queasy than you do now. You sense your skin is a few shades lighter than normal.

“Oh, baby,” Eddie tuts. His sweet affections are always enough to make you feel better. However right now you think the deep slice in your finger is enough to distract you from the way he makes you feel. “C’mon, let’s go sit.”

You follow Eddie through to the corridor and try your best to not focus on the dull throbbing in your finger. You can feel blood trickling down into your palm, your other hand interlocked with Eddie’s, unable to wipe the hot mess of tears on your face.

He sits you on a milk crate, plopping down on another opposite you, and balances your diced hand on his knee. You worry for his new corduroys but there’s a line of tomato puree up the front of them that looks as though it’ll stain just as worse.

“Are you okay?” He wraps a clean bar towel around your hand and squeezes. Your hand feels like it’s on fire. You feel stupid. You've barely said a word but you’re okay with Eddie bossing you around a bit.

You swallow and blink, and worry your cheeks are marred with mascara. “Yeah,” you cough, and feel a little inept. “Thank you Eddie, I think I was on autopilot for a second there.”

“It’s okay,” he laughs. It’s a distracting sound. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I really hate blood.” You suck a sharp breath through your teeth and turn your head away while Eddie fixes you up.

You close your eyes and let Eddie take care of you. You wonder if you’d put up with another bloodied hand for him to touch you like this again. He apologises every time you wince, even though you’re being entirely dramatic, and wipes the left over tears and smudged mascara when he done patching you up.

He squeezes your knee when he’s done and kisses you over your bandage. “All done,” he chirps. “Good job.”

You laugh and kiss him on the cheek. “You’re too kind.”

“You gonna be okay to shake a martini with that bandaged hand?”

You giggle. “Martini’s are stirred, Ed’s.” His face drops. “No wonder you’re in the kitchen.”

“I’d like to see you cook a steak.”

[anystalker707]

a sweet reminder

Pairing: Luke Skywalker x [gender-neutral] Reader Summary: Spending a nice time with Luke after he's done working at the farm, and of course he's awfully sweet. Tags: clingy luke / he really wants to take care of you / lots of kisses

MASTER LIST

          Despite the usual high temperatures, the day felt exceptionally hot—the suns seemed to be taking out personal anger on Luke, making each step towards his home feel like torture, and he already knew he’d need some cream later tonight to deal with burning in the areas where the sunlight chastened his tanned skin. He furrowed his eyebrows, patting his clothes to get rid of the sand accumulated between the folds.

The droids wouldn’t do everything, so Luke still needed to carry those heavy buckets of water back home to refill the sprinklers. He tried to balance between no water spilled and the intense pain in his fingers to let buckets down on the ground as slowly as he could, and the pain lingered uncomfortably around his knuckles.

“Fuck,” Luke breathed as he opened and closed his hand a few times until the stiffness went away, or at least most of it. He sighed as he placed his hands on his hips, looking down, letting the breeze refresh the back of his neck before he moved to finish his task. He would be free for the last of the day, hopefully.

Luke’s thoughts were fuzzy already after so many hours under the suns, but he had done that enough times to trust himself on autopilot. He could name a handful of things—more, actually—he would rather be doing right now.

A long breath escaped his lips once he was done, and he tried his best to ignore the tingling in the back of his mind that told him it was only a matter of time before his uncle told him to do something else. He took a deep breath as he walked over to the kitchen, his body instinctively freezing when he heard his name being called, but hey, it wasn’t Uncle Owen.

“Luke,” the voice called again, and he stepped out to see you coming down the edge. A smile tugged on your lips when you finally saw him, sighing. “Wow, you look like you’ve been… smuggled by Jawas.”

“Oh,” Luke chuckled, shaking his head. “Just slaving away as usual,” he breathed, glancing behind him, but no one from his family was around. He wiped the sweat away from his brow with his forearm, and he shook his head again so that his strands would fall back into place.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, just feeling a little too hot and cranky.” Luke scrunched his nose a little. Today’s weather seemed harsher than usual, and opposite to his wishes to stay home upgrading his ship, he had to work at the farm for longer than normal today.

You raised your eyebrows, nodding faintly. “I was gonna ask you to come grab a drink with me, but we don’t need to go anywhere if you don’t want to.”

Luke’s eyes followed your hand reaching out to brush his hair back into place, and he made sure to stand still while you did so. “Doesn’t sound bad at all,” he said. “Maybe we can have a couple of glasses of blue milk while we hang out in the garage. I was gonna tinker around with my stuff anyway.” He grabbed your hand, walking by the kitchen with you to grab the promised drink before you two could go sit on the couch in the garage. He always sat close, pressed to your side. “Ugh, what a day, I swear. Anything interesting happened while I was slaving away?”

“Stop being so dramatic,” you scoffed with an endearing smile. You enjoyed the refreshing sensation of the blue milk going down your throat, and the garage felt a lot nicer than being cooked under the suns outside. On the other hand, maybe it’d be colder than usual tonight. “And no, nothing interesting. I did hit my head on the edge of a ship while fixing it, though. I’m not sure if that’s interesting,” you chuckled, bringing a hand up to the sore spot on top of your head out of instinct.

Blue eyes observed you over the rim of the glass before Luke lowered it, licking his lips as his eyes roamed over you with clear concern, a crease forming between his eyebrows. A small sound came from him as he put his glass away. “Oh no, are you alright? Let me take a look.” He adjusted his position and placed your glass on the table as well, reaching out to touch your head. His fingertips gently traced the area where you’d hit with a delicate and soft touch. “Does this hurt?” He applied a little pressure.

“Ow,” you hissed at the unexpected pain, though it wasn’t too bad. You’d forget it hurt if nothing touched the area you’d hit. “Only a little sore.” 

“I don’t feel any bumps or swelling, but I think we should keep an eye on it, anyway,” Luke exhaled. “But that’s a relief. We don’t want you losing any more brain cells.” He chuckled and kissed the top of your head carefully, his hand descending to cup your cheek for a brief moment. Concern was evident in his eyes as they met yours, making your heart flutter in your chest. “I have a bacta spray. It should help. Do you want me to get it?”

You placed your hand on top of his to squeeze it reassuringly, letting it fall to your lap. “I’m fine, I swear. Maybe we should be more worried about your brain cells cooking in this heat, yeah?” You chuckled, running your thumb over Luke’s knuckles when his eyes widened, and you were sure his blushing would be apparent if it weren’t for his sun-kissed skin.

“H-Hey, my brain is just fine, thank you very much!” Luke’s attempt to sound indignant failed miserably with his embarrassment, and he bit his lip, glancing away. “It’s not like I’m hallucinating or anything.” His eyes softened when they met yours again, and he lifted his free hand, his fingertips grazing your cheek gently—he raised his eyebrows a little when you leaned into his touch. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He leaned in closer. “Maybe I should take another look, just to be safe.”

Part of you regretted telling Luke about the bump when concern laced his gaze once more—you thought he’d be more used to it, since you and him were always with a bruise or another from working on those ships or machines the whole time.

“It’s okay,” you insisted, catching his hand between yours before he could reach for your head again. “Trust me, Luke.” You squeezed his hand gently.

Luke exhaled. “Okay. If you’re sure.” He looked down at your joined hands before he leaned in, his nose brushing against yours. “But if it gets worse, you’ll tell me, right?” His wide, earnest eyes looked into yours, pleading, before he pressed his forehead to yours, both out of habit and out of worry. Clingy, as always. “I could kiss it better.” His breath fanned over your face. “If you want me to, I mean.” As if he hadn’t already.

“You’re such a sweetheart,” you mumbled, your eyelids instinctively hiding half of your irises when the distance between you diminished. “Why are you always doing this? Pressing your forehead to mine. Trying to read my thoughts?” You chuckled, and he couldn’t help but do the same.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Luke furrowed his eyebrows lightly. “It feels… nice. Comforting, I guess.” He bit his lip, his hand coming up to rest on your shoulder, near the base of your neck. “Don’t act like I’m being clingy.”

“Yeah, feels nice, I enjoy it too… But you’re very clingy all the time, in fact,” you whispered with a small smile, placing a hand on his waist instead, adjusting your position so that you could be closer to each other.

A soft scoff escaped his lips. “You’re the one who wouldn’t stop kissing me the last time,” he pointed out with a shy smile, and he quickly pulled one of your legs to hook over his. “Not that I’m complaining,” he mumbled in a quieter, embarrassed voice, but he didn’t move away. The closeness was exciting and terrifying all at the same time. “I really like it when you do that.”

You raised your eyebrows, feigning cluelessness, despite how your heart fluttered in your chest. “Me? I never even kissed you. Let alone kiss you nonstop.” You clicked your tongue.

Luke pulled away suddenly, making your head fall forward a little, and looked at you with a wide grin and disbelief. “What? But you did! Here in the garage, when we were working on the speeder.” He paused. “Trying to.”

“Did I?” You raised your eyebrows. “I don’t remember it, baby.”

His heart pounded in his chest, and his cheeks burned, not just because of being under the sunlight for hours before. With a dramatically heavy sigh, he leaned in again. “Maybe you should kiss me again, love.” He glanced at your lips. “Just to remind you.”

“Oh, so that’s your suggestion?” You asked, and Luke nodded, biting his lip. “‘M not sure about it,” you mumbled against his cheek, nuzzling it softly.

“Well, we should try, maybe it’ll remind you,” Luke chuckled softly, turning his head. His lips brushed against yours in a barely-there touch. It was more of a tease, but still managed to send a tingling down his spine. He cupped the side of your neck, his thumb under your jaw, leaning in, and finally kissed you properly. His lips finally met yours, his breath hitching. Luke loved the warmth of your mouth, the softness of your lips, and it made his head spin when you kissed him back just as lovingly. “Like this?”

“I don’t think I’ve remembered enough,” you said as soon as his lips broke away from yours.

Luke chuckled. “We’ll have to keep trying, then.” He pecked your lips. “Until you remember.” Despite the calloused skin, his hands gently cupped your face as he kissed you once more, needy lips pressing to yours in a longer, deeper kiss. His kisses were messy in the best way possible, oscillating between the need and shyness, refraining into more contained movements right after deepening it and getting lost on your lips, trying to get a grip of himself again. “Do you like this?” Luke’s lips grazed yours as he spoke.

“Mhm. So good.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, mirroring his smile. He couldn’t be close enough.

Something shifted in Luke’s gaze as he tilted his head; it was like you were the most precious thing in the whole universe. He kissed you again, letting it last longer, as his thumbs ran along your cheekbones. “You’re so good at this,” he groaned, wrapping his arms around your waist to hug you tightly while nuzzling your nose. “I love being close to you like this.”

⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ✩°｡⋆

[donutz]

Catnap & Dogday being silly with reader

Request from Wattpad—! Here you go Zeki aph☆

—☆You are a smiling critter in this, if u want to know which one(but don't know what animal or insect to pick) you could start out as a sheep!

It’s early in the morning, and the kids have woken up(some of them, those are the early birds).

You and PickyPiggy help out with the breakfast, surprisingly you two never get tired of it.

PickyPiggy is very familiar with food so of course she won't get bored, but you? It can be confusing on why you never get tired.. Of cooking and baking for the kids.

Both of you cook everyday, at least for breakfast. Cooking over 500 pancakes, bacon(sometimes), and eggs isn't thattt bad!!

That's what PickyPiggy and you say.

So while you were cooking pancakes, you were by yourself. PickyPiggy already took care of the bacon. Seems.. Weird. Because y'know, bacon is pork. But she doesn't know that so let's keep it a secret.

You had 400 already done, just 100 left. Then you and Picky have to work together to set the table and place down the plates of food.

You finished pouring out the batter for a few pancakes then sat down somewhere on the couch.

You're cooking for all the kids, but the little ones come first. The little ones are 1-6, the youth is 7-10, then the older ones are 11-17. Why do the little ones wake up earlier? You're not sure.

Since there isn’t anything to watch except Smiling Critter videos. You decide to watch that. While it was playing, you kind of— zoned out..

‘Why don’t I have hands instead of hooves’?

Then Dogday and Catnap came out of nowhere.

“Sheepy”!

“...”

Dogday jumped on you while Catnap crawled on the couch and sat next to you.

“What’cha doin?!” Dogday asked, he was always so interested in what you do in your everyday life. It’s just a routine, sometimes it doesn’t always stick to that but it’s okay.

“Waiting for the pancakes to cook—” While you were speaking, apparently PickyPiggy woke up and wanted to check on the cooking.

“Oh that’s great! Your pancakes are amazing! As always!” Dogday always compliments you on your cooking.

“What’s the ingredients for em? Again..?” And for some reason he couldn’t remember the ingredients every single time you told him. But you don’t mind.

(This is a real recipe by the way you can actually make this, it’s how I make pancakes!) While making eye contact with Picky, you were stating the ingredients.

“So I first use 1 cup of pancake flour”(You can use any, I think, I’m not sure since I’ve been using the same one every time I make pancakes)

“Then a ⅔ cup of water(If the flour looks like it needs more water you can do a full cup!)” You were hand motioning to Picky to flip over the pancakes since they should be done by now. She did it so you don’t have to worry too much, now.

She’s taking care of the pancakes now that you’re explaining the ingredients to a very interested puppy, and a very much listening kitty.

“Then three slices of butter, after getting the pieces I put it in the microwave, for 30 seconds or 1 minute, depending on how big the slices were”

“And to add some yummy flavor to it I use cinnamon, as much as you want really, also if you want to make it really sweet, you can use milk”!

“After putting the ingredients together, you mix 'em up! And now you pour the batter on the griddle, as much as you want”.

“Also if it’s too dry you could add more liquids(any of them, the melted butter, the water, the milk) or if it’s too liquidy you could add more flour”.

“... Wow! Sheepy you’re so cool when it comes to cooking and stuff!” The puppy was wagging his tail at how amazing you were with your knowledge about making food.

Then he gave you a big hug, he was on your left side so you put your left arm around his back.

“Thanks—”

Then Catnap rubbed his head against yours while purring.

Even if Picky is still in the area, she’s too sleepy to process Catnap’s affection.

You didn’t want to sleep here on the couch so you suggested to the polar opposites that, “We should move to our critter bedroom or something”.

While you three were walking to the critter room, remember how I said that some kids were early birds? Yeah, and someee of those kids were out of their bedrooms. So you and Catnap had to deal with having them go back into their rooms, since Dogday isn’t too good at that stuff.

He sometimes gets.. Manipulated by the kids.. They reason with him and tell him that it’s okay to stay out of the rooms. Then he goes, “Okay!” It’s not annoying, but it is annoying that the kids were taking advantage of Dogday’s kindness.

After that frenzy, you guys were actually heading back to the critters’ room.

Luckily, the workers thankfully had sympathy for the critters so you all actually have a place to rest. Even if you don’t need to sleep.

All the critters, except Picky, were playing around in the room. Then your trio came in and walked in on a party. Like a teenage birthday party, it was actually crazy. And somehow Craftycorn was drawing during all of this??

Catnap, Dogday and you were going towards your bed, just sitting on it, watching the madness. There was so much laughing, the room could be mistaken for a bunch of 3 year olds.

Then, KickinChicken threw a pillow and it hit Catnap’s face..

The room went silent, though, Craftycorn was still drawing.

“Oh! Sorry Catnap! I’ll try not to hit you again”!

He slowly turned his head towards the chicken, looking scary as ever.

But then you scratched the underside of his chin with your wrist(since you’re a sheep and have wool) or if your critter actually has hands then you scratched under his chin with your hand.

“Sorry about him, continue.” And then the playing started again.

And yes, Catnap started purring.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I'm sorry to come here to distract you with my horny thoughts but I feel like you are the only one that will understand me.

I can't help the thought of a lonely cute housewife reader who's husband spend all day at work and didn't pay attention to her. One day a man knock at the door and she found a big muscular blue eyed man (König 🥴) that says his husband has hired him to fix something at the house. She let him in and can't help but stare the whole time at his muscles as he works. She offered a cup of water like the cute housewife she is and after they exchange words she says that she think his husband is cheating on her. And something inside his head made 'click'. How a man can cheat on such a perfect woman? She's so precious and gentle in her cute silky robe. If she was his wife he would praise her everyday and made love to her every minute of the day. And when he came back to Earth he was already bullying his cock inside her over the kitchen counter.

Of course he will come back everyday to fix her house and bully her pussy like she deserve it.

Yes, König is so bad in scenarios like this, he absolutely sucks.

Tells himself he’d never do love triangles, he’d never touch another man’s woman, marriage is sacred & bla bla bla. But this one girl is so heartbroken... She’s absolutely desolate, just look at her, she’s so so sad! Offers him cookies and milk, coffee and pastries, a home cooked meal one day like he’s her husband instead of the one who’s never at home.

There’s always something that needs a little fixing in her house; the oven, some plumbing, her car. Her man doesn’t seem to care at all that his girl is unhappy, and living with broken, beeping machines. But nowadays she’s smiling so sweetly, telling him he’s far too good and kind. Tells him about her serial cheater husband, how she feels so unwanted and lost but how it brings her hope to see that there are still good men around. Good, gentle men like him.

Next thing he knows, she’s crying in his arms, soft little sobs sighed all over his neck. Next thing he knows, he’s telling her she’s the sweetest thing he’s ever seen... Next thing he knows, they’re somehow on the floor, and she’s still sobbing in his ear. Next thing he knows, he’s tugging her panties to the side while she begs him to fuck the pain away.

Lovely pleading doe eyes stare at him softly as he pulls the throbbing cock out of his pants, hellbent on fixing whatever needs fixing in this house. She’s a paying customer, after all, and if he and his cock can make the crying stop then König can gladly call it a job well done… It’s just that he sometimes gets a bit carried away, whispering in her ear how he could be her husband instead. How she could give him twins and they could move to the seaside, wouldn’t that be nice, hmm? – just when she’s about to cum...

[bearyzdiary]

Lazy morning

Francis x reader

This diary entry contains…Fluff|established relationship|Baker x milkman is now my favorite thing to write for this man| Mentions of the doppleganger incident going on|Reader and francis are honestly the happiest couple in that damn complex.|

The quiet start to your morning was ruined by Francis's loud alarm clock. You groaned as you turned over and placed a pillow over your ear to block out the sound. The bakery was closed for the day due to some construction that needed to be done. You could hear Francis mumble a small apology to you as he turned off the clock.

The feeling of some weight being lifted off the bed made you take the pillow off your ear and place in back in its proper spot. Unlike you, Francis still needed to do his rounds for the day before he could come back home and spend the rest of it with you." If it makes you feel better, we can start the day together" You yawned out as you sat up. Francis nodded as he lazily looked through the closet for his work uniform.

"I wished I could take the day off but I'm aiming for perfect attendance for this week" he said as he pulled out the familiar set of white clothes. You got out a bed before stretching." I think you're doing a good job so far" you said as you fixed up your spot of the bed and slid your feet into the cupcake slippers Francis had bought you as a gift.

You followed Francis to the bathroom where you flipped the light out and turned to sink on." I hope I don't have to do many deliveries today. Half the people I deliver milk too don't even use it I bet" He mumbled out as he grabbed his toothbrush and wetted it. You grab the toothpaste before applying a good amount onto Francis's before putting some on yours.

"Milk isn't a favorite of lots of people. I don't even know why you bother to still bring it to them" you say before popping the toothbrush into your mouth. Francis shrugged as he brushed his teeth for a good 2 minutes before spitting the toothpaste into the sink.

"People claim to want to start to drink milk more but we know that never works out for long" He says as he grabbed his washcloth and began to start his skincare routine.

You nodded as you fill a cup with water and took a sip before swishing it around your mouth and spitting it back out into the sink, Rinsing the sink out in the process.

Once the two of you were done in the bathroom, you made your way to the kitchen where you didn't feel like cooking, so you decided to make two bowls of cereal." Did you want frosted flakes or are you feeling like cheerios?" You asked as grabbed the spoons and put them into the bowl.

"Cheerios" Francis said as he went to go put his shoes on by the front door. You grabbed the box before pouring some in a milk themed bowl you bought Francis one day when you went to the store.

You picked whatever cereal you liked and poured into a cake themed bowl that you bought yourself. You poured milk into both before setting them onto the table and taking a seat.

Francis joined you as he poked at his cereal a little before taking a couple of bites of it. "I'm a little worried., About the whole doppelganger thing" you say while taking a spoonful of cereal and eating it. Francis looked at you before giving you a weak smile.

"I know, it's pretty scary to think about. But hopefully that new doorman can do their job right and figure out who is actually a real person." Francis said as he finished off his cereal. You took your last bite before handing Francis your bowl as he gladly took it and placed them in the sink.

"I trust them. They seem to be very good at their job so!" you said, trying your best to think positive as you looked over Francis. His facial features were so easy to remember as you had seen it a bunch of times so you would know right away if it was a doppelganger.

"Now, I sadly must leave you here all alone so I can go give people their milk" he said as he began to walk to the front door. You followed after him like a lost puppy as you gave him a smile.

"Don't take too long! and take breaks also please dear" you say as Francis nods as he put on his hat before grabbing his keys as he turns to look at you. "I promise I'll take breaks" he says as you squint your eyes before holding out your pinky to him.

"Are you really about to make me pinky promise on this?" He chuckles before interlocking his pinky with you. "Yes, and you better not break it" you say before placing a small kiss onto his cheek.

"I think I deserve one on my lips" he said as he grabbed your waist and placed a quick kiss on your lips. You giggled as you tipped his hat a little." Be safe please, I wouldn't be able to handle the thought of one of those monsters getting you" you say as you fixed his hat back as he removed his hands from your waist.

"I can just throw a bottle of milk at them if they even thought about bothering me" he said as he unlocked the door and opened it. "I'll be back soon" he said as he stepped out, closing the door behind him.

You locked the door back up before sighing as you shuffled back to the living room and plopped onto the couch as turned the TV, At least you could watch your favorite show without Francis commenting on it every five seconds.

[b1asho]

Second question! (Sorry for the wait, I had a few more days of school… hence, more headache).

What are some traditional dishes from each of the species in Wreck Hounds? And, could you tell us the preferred food items of some of your favourite ocs?

Mm alien food (strictly off limits to humans, but don’t worry we’ve gotten as close as earth stuff is capable of to replicating them, exclusively via printing or growing, tho, not by making new animals. No other species before humans has done this before, mostly because the whole ‘aliens’ thing was newer to us and some scientists got excited about making the whole eating alien foods thing possible)

(I’m doin the other question in a sec my pen died :( )

Moss balls are a popular side dish made by cultivating edible moss around a hard, porous, reusable core. Sometimes they’re cooked but they’re almost always seasoned with something. You eat it by using your iron-reinforced Rossetian teeth to gnaw it off.

The coral on the Kixeli homeplanet is much larger than we’re used to, and this includes the polyps. Some species have larger growths on their colony that are “fruit”, intentionally exposed and meant to be eaten by other animals so their eggs can be moved elsewhere in the ocean (as part of a way to compete with all the other corals who kinda spit their stuff randomly all over the water). These are usually the ones that are eaten by Kixeli because they’re big, easy to get, colorful, and even taste different than the other polyps. Grilling them is actually a new thing because they now have much more access to plentiful flammable stuff/cooking devices, unlike back home where that was a rarity.

Prectikar are part of an animal group of ‘milk’ producing, feathered hexopods. They don’t have dedicated nipples and instead sweat it from the skin in specific areas, and some of them do it in different ways. The animal pictured makes a substance on the hump on its back that congeals quickly into a ‘wax’ once secreted, which the babies clinging to its back can lick off at leisure. It can also be harvested via scraping it off and cured into a cheese. Prectikar are also big fans of meat, nuts, etc due to their high calorie needs.

Cerest eat a lot of mass-produced heavily processed stuff because that’s what’s the easiest to produce and distribute to their large populations. Smallish invertebrates are the easiest to farm so are usually the go to choice. As I’ve mentioned before, food for Cerest is usually an indicator of class, so whether you’re a rectangle or a triangle determines whether you get some actual animal with your unseasoned cube and mash.

Muttreazik eat whatever food is from the biosphere of what their host was. However, they sometimes have different needs (such as being carnivorous instead of omnivorous, or being very large) that can make sourcing food harder.

[sysakiddo]

Max is the youngest Dutch chef with three michelin stars and is seen as the world’s best cook by most of the relevant people. Buuut the word gets out that he doesn’t treat his cooks very nicely and then one time, someone he had fired said Max got physical in several instances. Max thinks it’s all bullshit and doesn’t listen to the buzz, he wants his food to speak for him. So what if he raises his voice sometimes? They are not in kindergarten, for fuck’s sake. 

The restaurant’s marketing team is not thrilled. They make a plan to salvage his reputation. Basically, they make him be the judge for one of those Masterchef VIP things, where he needs to comment on horrible food made by some celebrities who are usually too dumb to read the script. He says he will do one season, unfiltered, and then never walk out of his restaurant ever again. He doesn’t care about his reputation in the tabloids, he only cares about his stars. 

Daniel just won his third WDC. He’s also there. Cooking. His marketing teams think this is a beautiful opportunity to milk the American market. And Daniel is like, you want me to cook now? Okay. He is on top of the world, he doesn’t give a shit. 

His opinion changes drastically during the first challenge.

They are supposed to make a food they would cook for a friend. To balance Max out, the other judge is Charles. With one Michelin star. Max tries not to make himself look too smug about it. 

“So, what is this pasta situation?” Charles asks Daniel, who is currently failing to drain the pasta water without getting rid of half the pasta down the drain.��

“Um, I’m making pasta and chicken,” Daniel smiles and points at the charred chicken breast served on the table. He puts a bit of pasta next to it unceremoniously, “There it is! I’m done.”

Max narrows his eyes. “With sixty minutes on the clock, you are done after twenty?” he asks. 

Daniel giggles, “Yeah, I drive fast cars for a living.” 

“Your girlfriend must not be thrilled about your performance.”

Daniel laughs nervously. Max doesn’t join him. Charles bites his lip so as not to snort out, and points at the selection of spices Daniel hasn’t touched once during the cooking. 

“Maybe you could play with the seasoning now,” he says to soften the blow that came from his co-judge. Max moves on to another contestant without saying anything else. 

When Daniel brings them his final dish, Charles says, “It’s bland,” while Max looks him straight into eyes and says, “The chicken is so overcooked I feel like it had been killed years before I was born.” 

Daniel’s palms are sweaty, his jaw keeps ticking. He still laughs, loud, too fake. He sees Max visibly cringe. Even worse, the judges pick the contestants into their teams after that. Max picks him into his blue team as the second-to-last. 

They finish rolling and Daniel practically runs to the changing rooms, speed dialling the head of his marketing team.

[wandasboy]

Down Days

Pairing: caregiver!JJ x little!transmasc!reader

Summary: After a really rough day, JJ gets home from work to find you regressed. She takes care of you.

Word Count: 900

Warnings: age regression, fluff, r calls JJ momma (i think thats it?)

A/N: JJ is such a boy mom, so this is fitting I think.

Also!!! To the littles who may see this, please be careful and tread lightly on my blog as I post both sfw and nsfw content!!

When JJ finally came home, she expected to be greeted by you almost immediately. Instead when she opened the door, you were nowhere to be found. 

She glanced down to her phone, to check if she had sent her ‘on my way’ message as she normally did. It was there, but no response, but that wasn’t unlike you. You sometimes had a hard time responding and reaching out, mostly over text. 

She chucked her shoes off, set her bags down, and set out to find you.  

JJ found you in bed with your back turned to the door. She smiled softly at the sight of you, but worry quickly overcame it. She walked over and knelt down beside the bed, reaching out to rub your back and planting a kiss on your hair. 

“Hi, sweetheart, I’m home.” 

You instinctively relaxed into her touch before turning to her, giving her a small, quiet, “hi.”

As you turned, she saw the stuffed animals you were holding and her gaze softened. 

“How’s my sweet boy?” She kissed your forehead, and began to play with your hair lovingly.

You rolled into her, nuzzling your face into her chest.

Seeing as you didn’t respond, she made the assumption you likely hadn’t been okay, something may have even triggered you, causing you to slip into this space to shield yourself. 

Since you had first told her about age regression, she had done research, wanting to know how to best take care of you and love you, both as your young self and older self. She’d have to wait till your older self came back to ask what happened. Currently, all that was on her mind was making you feel safe and comforted. 

“Have you eaten? Why don’t we go downstairs and I’ll make some dinner and then we can watch a movie?”

You nodded into her and she pulled you up and helped you get off the bed. You took her hand and walked together downstairs, still holding your group of stuffies.

She guided you to one of the stools at the kitchen island and you hopped up, lining your animals up to sit in front of you. She ruffled the top of your hair and walked to the fridge. 

“What are we thinking? Spaghetti? Mac and cheese,” before she could continue, you jumped in excitedly.

“Mac and cheese!”

She laughed, smiling at how eager you were. “Sure, bub, how about with hot dogs?” 

“Yeah!!” 

“Okay, whatever my precious baby wants.” 

While she made the food, JJ watched as you sat quietly, playing with your stuffies. She closed her eyes for a minute and took a deep breath, cherishing this innocent moment and reminded herself how grateful she was that you were hers to take care of and love.  

Once finished cooking, she set your bowl and a cup of water in front of you. 

“Juice?” You looked at her questioningly. 

“No sweetheart, it's too late for juice. You can have water or milk.” 

You pouted at her, “You said whatever I want!” 

She crooked an eyebrow at you. “Yes, about picking food, sweetheart. It’s too late to have juice, you can have some in the morning if you still want it.” 

You huffed, giving up and eating your food. She sat down next to you and ate with you, watching you out of the corner of her eye. 

When you were done, you waited patiently for her to finish. She grabbed the bowls and put them in the sink, then turned to look back at you. 

You fidgeted with your stuffed bears’ paws when you saw her turn. 

“Movie now?”

You smiled, hopping off the stool.

She came over to you to hold your hand and lead you to sit down on the couch. “What would you like to watch, lovebug?” She opened Disney, and started to go through options she knew you liked.

You practically jumped on her when you saw one of your favorite movies pop up. “Tangled! Please momma!?”

“We watched Tangled two days ago, do you really want to watch it again?” She asked, even though she knew the answer. 

“Momma momma please!” You squeezed her arm and grinned at her, rocking back and forth slightly. It was something you did often,even without meaning to. Sometimes it was to self soothe, other times sensory seeking, as it was at the moment. 

“Okay sweet pea,” she said, putting her hand over yours. “Should I go get us some blankets?” 

You nodded and smiled at her, “Dino!” 

You watched her get up, then turned your head back to the tv. She went back to your shared room to grab your dinosaur blanket and another for herself. 

When she came back, she wrapped you in your blanket and sat next to you, putting an arm around you to pull you in. You were partially lying on her lap, with your head against her arm propped on the armrest. She softed your hair as you two watched the movie. With about twenty minutes left of the movie, she looked down to check on you, only to see you fast asleep in her arms. 

She kissed the back of your head and whispered, “I love you, little bug, always and forever.” 

[m00ngirl777]

Maple Syrup, Coffee, Pancakes for Two

Peter Parker x Reader

kiss number...3

That wonderful fuzzy felling, bright morning, soft covers, great night sleep, and the warm and loving touch of the person beside you, embracing you. As consciousness slowly took over, you decided this was the best feeling there could be and after that, fresh fluffy pancakes on a slow Saturday morning. You enjoyed the rare view of a calm sleeping Peter, he had worked above and beyond as Peter Parker, average science genius, and as Spider-Man, the friendly neighborhood crime fighter, even him, as super powered as he comes, needed the rest, you placed a soft kiss to his hair and carefully got out of bed, as tired as he might be heighten senses are heighten senses.

summary: Kitchen, morning, sleepy peter

A/N: just a little domestic Peter for the soul, anyways hope you love it, thxx for reading, love u, byeeee. xoxo. -N.

p.s. my requests are open my loves<333

tw: none I think, my writing lol.

wc: 940

That wonderful fuzzy felling, bright morning, soft covers, great night sleep, and the warm and loving touch of the person beside you, embracing you. As consciousness slowly took over, you decided this was the best feeling there could be and after that, fresh fluffy pancakes on a slow Saturday morning. You enjoyed the rare view of a calm sleeping Peter, he had worked above and beyond as Peter Parker, average science genius, and as Spider-Man, the friendly neighborhood crime fighter, even him, as super powered as he comes, needed the rest, you placed a soft kiss to his hair and carefully got out of bed, as tired as he might be heighten senses are heighten senses.

Milk, vinegar, flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt, eggs, and butter, you mentally read through the memorized pancake recipe in one of the corners of your mind, you don’t even remember where you got it from, you loved cooking, specially if it was for someone you loved, someone like Peter, food has always been a love language, even if your dad didn’t have the first idea on how to toast bread or boil water, you couldn’t count the times you shared a plain cheese burger, a donut with sprinkles, a pizza he could only get because he flew in his iron man suit to get it for you. No wonder where you got the particular trait from, you just actually learned to use a pan. 

You knew the drill, mix the dry and wet ingredients separately, then slowly bring them together, but not too much, leave the batter perfectly thick, because who likes flat pancakes. Pan already on the stove, always lightly coated with salted butter, as your pancakes fluffed up on the low heat waiting for the bubbles to form, you pulled out some maple syrup, the real kind that came from Canada, and an arrange of berries out of your fridge, by the time you rinsed and dried the fruit it was time to flip your first batch of two pancakes, while pouring the second batch an idea popped into your head, bacon. 

As the bacon fried you started plating, you had checked on Peter a few moments ago and he was still deep in sleep, you decided to simply bring breakfast to him, you pulled out one of those bed trays from the pantry, you arranged two medium sized plates with pancakes and one little plate with the crispy bouncy bacon and the small syrup jug. Before taking the tray back to your bedroom, you started the coffee machine, you grabbed your cup and lined it with some of that maple syrup and a sprinkle of sea salt, then set it under the machine to brew on the cappuccino feature, while that was done you carefully picked the tray and walked it to where he slept, so calmly. You placed it on the tall table at the foot of the bed and went back to the kitchen, you brewed a second cup of coffee, a simple but strong americano, as it brewed you rummaged to the fridge to find the sweat cream Peter liked to paint his coffee with, once you found it you poured enough to turn it a rich shade of caramel brown. Finally, with both cups of coffee you once again walked to the bedroom and placed them on your nightstand, you climbed into bed and on top of peters naked torso, he was laying face down, half hugging a pillow, completely unbothered by the noise and movement you could make.

“Peter,” You kissed the spot where his neck and upper back met, he made an adorable little sound and further hugged the pillow he was half-lying on, “good morning, baby,” you hugged his perfectly sculpted back and swung a leg on top of his hip, nuzzling into the back of his neck. 

Peter hummed to your touch, slowly coming into his senses, after a moment he turned, eyes still closed, he pulled you into him, your face now in his chest, you pulled away just enough to gently grab his face and give him a soft kiss to the lips, as you pulled away he finally opened his deer like eyes, “good morning,” he kissed your forehead.

“I made breakfast,” you said, pulling yourself up from him, turing to the food on the table and back to him, giving him a soft smile, the way he looked at you was that of pure adoration, slowly he pulled himself up too and, with a gentle but strong hand to the back of your neck, pulled you closer to him, to give you another sweet kiss on the lips, followed by a trail of pecks from the corner of your mouth to your temple, “I love you,” he whispered to your ear, his thumb caressed the spot behind your ear and looked deeply into your eyes, one more time he pulled you into him you closed your eyes expecting your lips to meet, instead he aimed for your right eyelid and placed the softest kiss there, a current of sorts ran from the top of your head, to the base of your neck, all through your spine, if you hadn’t been already halfway lying down on your bed you were sure your knees would given up from the feeling alone. You wrapped your arms around him and leaned into him, you gave his neck a quick kiss.

“Let’s eat before it gets cold,” you said.

“Of course, baby,” You reached for the food and coffee, giving you the loveliest start to what seemed to be the perfect day.

[misssparklingpaws]

Shadow in the Flame

Chapter 38:  The Week That Shall Not Be Named

The Tower was in full lockdown, not from an external threat, but from a five-foot-two ticking time bomb named Aria Lucía Stark.

She stormed into the living room barefoot, hair in a haphazard bun, wearing Bob’s hoodie (barely containing her very pregnant belly) and a scowl that could peel paint.

“Why. Is. It. So. Hot.” She snarled, flinging a throw blanket across the room like it had personally offended her. “Is the AC broken? Are we in Hell?”

Yelena, who had been eating cereal in absolute silence, slowly lowered her spoon. “It's set to sixty-eight...”

“Then why do I feel like I’m inside a volcano?” Aria snapped.

Bob entered cautiously with a glass of ice water. “Here, sweetheart. You’ve been sweating.”

“I don’t want water, Bob! I want this baby out of me!” she growled, slapping the glass away (gently, but dramatically). “It’s been a week. My ankles are tree trunks. My back is breaking. I’m carrying a tiny human who refuses to evacuate. I am DONE.”

Everyone froze. Ava slowly set her coffee down. John quietly retreated behind the couch.

Yelena dared to speak. “Maybe we can go on that walk Bruce suggested.”

“Oh, now everyone’s a doctor,” Aria said, throwing her hands up. “I’ve tried everything,”.

Bob peeked over the counter, cautiously. “We haven’t tried just relaxing—”

“RELAXING?!” Aria spun toward him with the wild-eyed rage of a woman done with pregnancy. “I drank raspberry leaf tea, bounced on that damn yoga ball until my legs gave out, walked thirty flights of stairs, and ate enough pineapple to burn off my taste buds! I even tried spicy tacos, AND I’M MEXICAN!”

“…You also threatened to curse the baby into an astrology placement you didn’t like,” Bob whispered.

Aria lowered herself onto the couch like a collapsing sandbag, dramatically groaning as she arranged eleven pillows around her. She stared up at the ceiling like it had betrayed her personally.

Bob, ever hopeful, stepped closer with cautious optimism. “Maybe you just need”

“Don’t,” Aria warned, holding up one hand. “Don’t finish that sentence unless it ends in ‘a portal to a reality where I’m not pregnant.’”

Bob sat beside her slowly. “I just meant, maybe.”

“I knew it,” she said suddenly, sitting up with a sharp gasp. “You planned this.”

Bob blinked. “Planned… what?”

“You did this to me on purpose.”

His face was all confusion and puppy-eyed concern. “What did I—?”

“You got me pregnant,” she hissed. “Deliberately. Strategically. Like some kind of… emotional assassin.”

Bob looked genuinely panicked. “Wait—what?!”

“You lured me in with foot rubs and home-cooked meals and all that gentle supportive energy and BAM! Pregnant. Out of nowhere. Like a damn babytrap!”

Yelena, eyes wide, mouthed “oh my god” and slowly lowered her cereal bowl.

“I didn’t babytrap you” Bob tried.

“Yes, you did!” Aria barked. “You knew I was in my prime. A weapon. Dangerous. Beautiful. Powerful. And you said, ‘Let’s neutralize the threat with love and soft sweaters and reproductive sabotage.’”

“I literally just asked if you wanted tacos that night!”

“Exactly! You tricked me with tacos and cuddles, you beautiful manipulative sweetheart!”

Bob opened his mouth. Closed it again.

“You seduced me with emotional security and long-term commitment!”

Ava nearly spat out her coffee. John quietly crawled behind the armchair.

“I have been waddling for a month, Bob. I haven’t seen my feet since October. I cried over a commercial for almond milk this morning. I am weak. You did this.”

Bob looked like he was trying to find a non-lethal way to respond. “I—I love you?”

“WELL LOOK WHERE THAT GOT US!”

Morgan peeked into the room. “Do we need more towels or just emotional support?”

“I need a time machine!” Aria snapped.

Bob offered her a hand. “Can I at least get you—?”

“Don’t touch me, Bob! Unless you can extract the child!”

He sat back, hands up, smiling nervously. “Still love you.”

“GOOD. BECAUSE I’M HAUNTING YOU IF I DIE.”

Behind them, Ava was silently texting Bucky:

 “She’s fully feral. She tried to bribe the moon.”

---

Later That Night. Aria sat in the tower lounge, miserable. Hair in a bun. One foot in a bucket of cold water and the other elevated on a stack of pregnancy pillows. She hadn’t smiled in seven days.

Morgan tiptoed by, gently set down a chocolate bar next to her, and fled like she was offering tribute to a volcano god.

Bob had fallen asleep sitting upright on the couch, arms folded over his chest like a guard at Buckingham Palace.

Enter: Yelena. Fearless. Reckless. Iconic.

She dropped onto the couch with a loud sigh and eyed Aria’s expression. “Still pregnant?”

“Do you want to lose your eyebrows?” Aria growled.

“No. But if you don’t give birth soon, I think the baby might file for eviction out of pity.”

Aria blinked.

Yelena wasn’t done. “Or maybe they’re just waiting until your mood stabilizes. Maybe they’re scared.”

“Babies can’t.”

“Listen. You’ve scared Avengers. You scared the toaster this morning. It stopped popping up toast and hasn’t made a sound since.”

Bob let out a snore-snort in his sleep.

“And,” Yelena continued, “don’t think we didn’t hear you yelling at your uterus last night. Ava recorded it. You shouted, ‘Come out, you coward!’”

That, finally cracked Aria.

She burst out laughing. Full-body, tear-streaming, gasping-for-air kind of laughing.

“Oh my god, stop, I did not”

“You did! It was like a WWE promo but for your own womb!”

Even Bob woke up, confused, seeing Aria curled on the couch, clutching her sides. “What’s going on?”

Aria could barely speak through her laugh attack. “Yelena said the baby’s hiding because I’m scary!”

And then…

Pop.

Everyone froze.

Aria stopped laughing mid-wheeze.

Her eyes widened. “...Oh no.”

Bob shot upright. “What, what? What’s wrong? Did I miss something?”

Aria slowly looked down.

“I think my water just broke.”

Yelena’s face split into horror and delight. “WAIT, MY JOKE DID THAT?!”

---

Bob was spinning in the hallway like a malfunctioning Roomba.

“One step at a time. Okay. Okay. Car. Or jet? No, too dramatic. But is it dramatic if the love of your life is HAVING A BABY.”

“BOB.”

Aria leaned over a chair, breathing through a contraction with deadly calm.

He froze. “Yes, my love?”

“Stop hovering. Get the bag. And breathe. You look like you’re about to pass out and I do not have time to resuscitate you before giving birth.”

Bob nodded so fast his curls bounced. “Right. Bag. Bag, okay.”

In the corner of the chaos, Morgan Stark, zoomed around like a tiny general.

“I’ve got the bottles, the socks, the charger, Pepper’s protein bars, a teething ring, and the silver spoon. You never know.”

Bob squinted into the bag. “Did you just pack a travel humidifier?”

“In case the hospital’s air is dry. Do I have to carry this team?”

Yelena, lounging on the couch, deadpan as ever, took a long sip from her energy drink. “I don’t see what the panic is. She looks like she could wrestle the baby out.”

Aria turned to her, deadly serious. “Suit up.”

Yelena blinked. “What?”

“You’re coming with us.”

“To the hospital?” Yelena laughed. “No thanks. Not my battlefield.”

Aria didn’t blink. “I want you there.”

“Why?” Yelena asked, almost amused.

Aria’s face softened just a touch, even as she winced through another contraction. “Because I need my chaos sister.”

Yelena froze.

No witty comeback. No sarcastic jab.

Just quiet. Processing.

“…Shit,” Yelena muttered. Then: “Fine. But if you puke on me, I’m stealing the baby.”

Aria cracked a small smile. “Deal.”

Bob peeked over the bags. “Do I count as your sister?”

Morgan shoved a granola bar in his face. “No talking, just driving.”

---

Inside the Elevator

9:58 p.m.

Aria groaned, holding the railing. Her whole body tensed and released again.

“Okay. That one sucked.”

Bob wiped his forehead with the speed of someone in a sauna. “You sure it’s not Braxton Hicks?”

Yelena gave him a look. “If this is Braxton Hicks, I’m a ballerina.”

“You’re not?”

Aria growled. “Drive the damn car before I give birth in this elevator.”

The team scrambled into the car.

Bob flung bags into the trunk like he was defusing a bomb. He gently helped Aria in like she was made of glass and lava. Yelena took shotgun, already pulling up maps.

“Music? No music? Mozart? Rain sounds? Baby Lullaby Spotify playlist?” Bob panicked.

Aria snapped, “Just get me to the hospital before this baby shows up on the highway.”

Morgan stood by the garage door, crossing her arms.

“You got this, sis,” she said solemnly.

Aria locked eyes with her, smiling even as another contraction curled her forward. “Thanks, Captain.”

Morgan saluted. “Tell that baby I said they owe me for the tactical bag packing.”

---

The hospital entrance doors whooshed open like a dramatic movie cue.

Aria was wheeled by Bob quickly breathing through another contraction. Her usually sharp gaze was blurry with effort, but the fire still burned under the sweat-slicked brow.

Bob was carrying two duffle bags like a mule on the verge of collapse.

Yelena followed calmly behind them, texting Morgan updates like a very intense soccer aunt.

“Hi!” chirped a young receptionist in pink scrubs at the triage desk. “Welcome to The Manhattan Solace! Name and due date?”

Bob opened his mouth to answer but Aria stand up, eyes narrowed.

The receptionist blinked. “Uh... you’ll need to fill out these forms and we’ll get you into pre-labor.”

Another contraction hit.

Aria’s hand slammed on the counter not hard, just precise. Like Tony used to when someone said something stupid during a board meeting.

Her voice was calm. Cold. Stark.

“I’m Aria Lucía Stark. My OB-GYN is Dr. Cho. I am currently forty-one weeks pregnant and having a contraction every three minutes. If you value your continued employment in the health care system, you are going to get me my suite. Now.”

The receptionist blinked again, now visibly sweating. “I-I thought that suite was only for emergencies.”

Yelena leaned forward slowly, elbow on the desk. “I dare you to tell the Stark heiress in labor that she’s not an emergency.”

“Uh. Uh. One moment please!”

She fumbled so hard with her keyboard the mouse hit the floor. As she bent down to grab it, she finally looked back up at Aria, at Bob, then Yelena and her eyes went wide in recognition.

“Ohmygod. Y-you’re the one from the cover of Time.”

Bob tried to help. “She’s not scary, she’s just.”

“Pregnant,” Aria deadpanned. “And hormonal. So unless you want a future Stark baby named after your incompetence, I suggest you move.”

The receptionist vanished. She didn’t even finish her sentence, she just ran off.

Bob turned to Aria. “That was... hot.”

“I’m contracting,” she panted. “Don’t flirt with me.”

Yelena grinned. “I’m naming the baby ‘Receptionist’ just for the drama.”

Dr. Cho appeared like a sleep-deprived angel.

“You made it. Good timing. Room’s ready. I’ve already paged the delivery team. Let’s get you comfortable.”

Aria muttered through gritted teeth, “Define comfortable.”

“I can offer drugs and cool lighting?”

“Acceptable.”

Bob hovered beside her like a twitchy golden retriever with access to billions in tech.

“Do you want ice? Cold cloth? I can sing?”

“Bob, if you sing, I swear I will leave.”

Yelena grabbed a chair, kicked her feet up. “I’m staying for the show.”

“We’ll check you in and then settle. You’re doing great, Aria. I mean it.”

Aria looked at Bob and Yelena as the next wave hit. She breathed through it hard, but when it passed, she turned to the ceiling.

“Okay. Next person who tells me I’m ‘doing great’ is getting a Stark Industries rocket launcher up their ass.”

Yelena raised a hand. “Noted.”

Bob kissed her hand.

“You’re still doing amazing,” he whispered.

Aria stared at him.

“…I’ll take my rocket launcher now,” he added quickly.

Aria had officially been in labor for fourteen hours.

She had walked, bounced on the yoga ball, breathed deeply, chewed ice chips, glared down Dr. Cho, and threatened to dismantle the hospital’s central air conditioning.

She was still only six centimeters.

“I have launched missiles faster than this,” she growled, gripping the edge of the bed like she was about to flip it over.

“Six is good,” Bob offered from the chair beside her, clearly trying to survive. “It’s over halfway…”

“Over halfway?” she turned, fire in her eyes. “Bob, if I had your strength, I’d throw this bed out the window. Over halfway is nothing. This baby is mocking me.”

Bob held her hand. Mistake.

She squeezed it with the full force of Stark rage and mutant-hormonal strength. He let out a strangled squeak.

“You did this to me,” Aria hissed.

“I know.”

“With your stupid, beautiful eyes and your anxious boyish energy, this is your fault.”

“I’ll take full responsibility.”

“FULL? You think that helps? That this is teamwork?”

A nurse stood in the corner checking the monitors, wisely pretending to be invisible.

Yelena sat cross-legged in the armchair, eating trail mix and very much not pretending to be invisible. “He did warn you his DNA was like molecularly chaotic.”

“Shut up, Yelena!”

“Okay.”

Bob was rubbing Aria’s back as another contraction came. She grunted, groaned, then straight-up growled. Somewhere in the building, a nurse dropped a tray.

“I swear, if this baby doesn’t come out in the next hour, I’m going to design a robotic uterus extractor and perform my own surgery.”

Bob, sweating. “Please don’t invent something during labor.”

Yelena, smug “This is better than the winter soldier docuseries.”

“I hate you,” Aria said, red in the face.

“I know,” Yelena smiled. “You’ll love me again when they give you the baby.”

Dr. Cho gently stepped forward. “Aria, I know you’re tired. But baby’s doing well. You’re progressing. We can help with a little more medication if you’d like.”

“No,” she snapped. Then paused. “Actually, yes. Give me everything. Medicate me like I’m going to the goddamn moon.”

Bob reached up and gently wiped sweat from her forehead with a cool towel. She stared at him like he was the enemy.

“You’re lucky I love you.”

He grinned softly. “Luckiest guy alive.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t flirt with me. I’m in pain.”

Yelena whispered to the Dr., “I think she’s ready for exorcism.”

“We’ll check her again in 20 minutes. Hang in there, Aria. You’ve got this.”

Aria flopped back dramatically.

“This baby better come out hot, bilingual, and wearing Stark Industries onesies or I swear to God.”

---

The contractions were hitting faster now. Meaner. Crueler. Like waves that didn't care about dignity or decency.

Aria clenched the hospital bed sheets in one fist and Bob’s fingers in the other like she was about to rip both apart.

“You’re breathing wrong,” she snapped.

Bob blinked. “I'm not, I'm just”

“Too loud. Stop it. You’re stressing me.”

Bob immediately stopped breathing.

 “This is all your fault. With your perfect hair and your stupidly gentle hands, who told you to touch me like that nine months ago?!” Aria yelled.

Bob, sweating bullets, held up his palms in surrender. “No one. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“And your eyes! You looked at me like I was your whole universe and I melted like an idiot!”

“You kissed me first,” he mumbled.

“SHUT UP.”

Yelena slowly pulled out her phone. “I'm texting Ava. She needs to see this.”

“NO PHONES!”

Bob reached out again, trying to offer the cool cloth. Aria swatted it away.

“I don’t want that. I want this to be over. I want my body back. I want sushi. I want everything.”

And then, just like that.

She broke.

Her face crumpled, eyes glassing over with a softness that contrasted the fury from moments ago. Her bottom lip trembled, and she looked down at Bob like he was the only safe thing in the world.

“I didn’t mean it,” she whispered. “I love you, Cielo. I love you so much.”

“I know,” he said, gently climbing to her side. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Tears slid down her cheeks. “I’m just, it hurts. So much. And I’m scared. I didn’t think it would hurt like this.”

Bob cradled her against him, brushing her damp hair from her face. “It’s okay. You’re allowed to be scared. But you’re not alone.”

“I feel like a bad person for yelling at you.”

“You’re literally in labor, Sweetheart. You could curse me out in twelve languages and I’d still want to marry you.”

She hiccupped through her tears. “You are going to marry me. You think I’m going through this for free?”

Yelena blinked slowly. “She’s back.”

Dr. Cho looked up from the monitor. “Nine and a half centimeters. We’re almost there.”

Aria groaned. “If I don’t get to ten soon, someone’s going to get fired or set on fire. I haven’t decided.”

Bob kissed her forehead. “You’re doing amazing.”

“I feel like a trainwreck.”

“You look like a goddess going to war.”

She sniffled. “That’s disgusting and sweet. I hate how much I love you.”

“I love you more.”

She gave him a watery glare. “Impossible I’m going to get my vagina torn to give you a child.”

[lustfulslxt]

Baby - Chris Sturniolo

summary : you and chris go live on instagram, cooking dinner in the kitchen, singing and dancing to music together while fans gush over how cute you are.

—

You were in the kitchen, pulling out all of the ingredients you needed to make dinner. Your playlist on shuffle, softly playing in the atmosphere. You had a clean house, a free weekend, you were making your favorite dinner, and spending the night with your boyfriend. You were content.

"Gorgeous?" Chris speaks in a sing song voice, trailing behind you.

You hum in acknowledgement, still laying everything out.

"Can I help you?" He asks, linking his arms around your waist, planting his head on your shoulder.

"Of course, so long as you don't mess anything up."

He places a soft kiss on your neck, pulling away from you with his hands in surrender, "I promise. I'll do whatever you need me to."

You give him a smile and nod in agreement, softly pecking his lips.

On the counter, laid a pot, a skillet, a plastic spoon, noodles, oil, seasonings, jars of sauce, chicken, and heavy whipping cream.

"Fill this pot up with water." You instruct him, "Once you're done with that, place it on the big burner, on high."

He gives you a salute, "Yes, ma'am."

You knew he had the gist of it, but you wanted to be extra and explain every little thing to him. He followed your instructions, very simply. Once the pot of water was on the stove, he turned to you, expectantly.

“We’ve got to wait for it to come close to a boil before we start the chicken, that way they’re done at the same time.” You tell him.

He nods, before going to your phone and turning the music up. “Want to go live?”

After pondering for a split second, you agree and he logs onto Instagram and starts the live. Soon enough, there were thousands of fans watching.

“Hi guys!” You exclaim, standing next to Chris.

He greeted them as well, tossing an arm around your waist. The fans went crazy over it, causing you to lightly blush. Your music had stopped for a second, changing to the next song, which was Baby - Justin Bieber.

“Aw shit!” Chris grins, propping his phone up and pulling you back into the middle of the kitchen “Oh woah, oh woah, oh woah.” He sings, twirling you around.

Your laughter fills the air as the two of you sing and dance, oblivious to the fans screen recording and blowing the comments up, gushing over your relationship.

“She make my heart pound, and skip a beat when I see her on the street. And at school on the playground, but I really wanna see her on the weekend. She knows she got me dazing, cause she was so amazing.”

Even though it was just a song, with the way he was staring into your eyes and singing every lyric to you, while shamelessly dancing around the kitchen, in front of thousands of people, you nearly melted. The smallest things had you falling harder every day.

He pulled you into a soft kiss, not having a care in the world about the live. He loved you and he was never afraid to express it. Once he let you go and continued dancing like a fool, you went back to get the chicken started, a deep blush coating your cheeks.

You cut the chicken up, seasoned it, and put it in the skillet with oil. Next, you started the noodles. As that was going to take some time, you went back to join Chris and his shenanigans.

“I must apologize for acting stank and treating you this way.” You sing with him, “Cause I’ve been acting like sour milk all on the floor, it’s your fault, you didn’t shut the refrigerator. Maybe that’s the reason I’ve been acting so cold.”

You both laugh again, enjoying everything about the night you’re having. Chris pulls you in the direction of his phone, so you guys could read some comments and interact with the viewers for a moment.

“You guys are the cutest.” Chris reads out loud, turning his head towards you with a proud smile on his face.

“True love.” You read another comment, nodding in agreement as you looked back at him, staring in pure adoration.

“The love of my life.” He whispers, only you being able to hear him.

That didn’t stop fans from dissecting what he said through the movement of his lips, and they went absolutely barnacles. The way Chris admired everything about you and was relentless with his affection, made them crazy. They truly loved your guys’ relationship.

He pulled you into him once again, just holding you in his embrace. His scent pleasantly engulfed you as you deeply inhaled, taking in every second of it all. He was warm and you felt safe and content, you felt home.

“Y’all, I’m gonna marry this girl one day.” Chris tells the live, causing your face to heat up as the biggest smile pulled to your lips.

“Stop, you’re making me blush.” You giggled in a whisper.

“Sorry, gorgeous, I can’t help it. You drive me mad, in the best way possible.”

You pulled him in for a kiss, this one deeper and more passionate than the last. You guys were perfectly in sync, merging together as one.

“I’m so in love with you.” You breathed into him lips.

“Let’s end the live.” He whispers, suggestively.

You let out a loud laugh, going to the phone, “Okay guys, we’re gonna call it a night. Gotta finish dinner. See you later!”

Chris threw up a peace sign with duck lips, bidding the fans goodbye.

You turned to him with a cheeky grin, “Maybe after dinner, you can show me how mad I drive you.”

“Don’t tempt me, baby.” He smirks.

You both laugh, going back to the cooking, happy to be with one another.

—

a /n : ok this was so shit, lowk feel like i rushed the ending.. still not proofread lolol. but like imagine chris dancing w you while y’all cook dinner and shit 😭 baby me now. send in requests pls pls

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Breaking Dishes. - OC

pairing: F!OC: Kathleen "Brass" Moore x John Price words: 2.7K~ cw: smut, arguments, violence, fighting/roughousing, breaking dishes, insults, toxic relationship.

It’s 8:12 A.M. when Kathleen finds herself sliding off bed and wrapping herself in a flowery black and pink silk robe. John’s side of the bed is cold, a sign he’s gotten up long ago.

She pads over to their en-suite bathroom and quickly washes her face, brushes her teeth and her hair, before she leaves the bedroom in search of her husband.

As she enters the kitchen, she finds her temper already rising, her jaw clenching as she looks around, finding multiple reasons to get angry already, so early in the morning, so early in a weekend morning.

First, she finds that he’s made breakfast already. Not for them, just for himself. Nothing for her. Selfish bastard.

Second, he made himself a full English too. Having left the rest of the eggs and sausages out of the fridge. The milk too even though he KNOWS she hates when he does that.

Third, he’s left a mess of pans and utensils on the kitchen stove… Which means she can’t even cook herself breakfast if she wanted to.

Fourth, the water kettle is not full enough for her to make herself a cuppa. In fact, the water in it is already lukewarm, even if there was enough to make herself one, she still couldn’t.

And fifth, John is sitting outside in the balcony, getting some sun, while only wearing a pair of jeans, showing off his strong torso and bulging arms to the whole neighborhood. Like a bloody tart.

Oh… Kathleen. is. pissed.

“JONATHAN. WILLIAM. PRICE!” She calls out at the top of her lungs as she whips the sliding glass door open and coming face to face with the man of the hour.

“Morning, Kat.” John greets her, completely calm and collected as he looks up at her, leaning his elbow lazily on the table next to him, which holds his empty breakfast plate and cutlery. 

He’s lounging without a care in the world, a grey wool sweater across his lap, and a mug of tea in his hand.

“Morning my arse! Did’ya see the mess you left in the kitchen?!” She asks him pointedly, brown eyes wide as she glares pure daggers at him.

Unfortunately for her, her raising her voice and her stern glares do little to him now, four years into their relationship, one into their marriage. He’s gotten used to them.

“Calm your tits, woman, I’m going to clean it after I’m done here.” He replies nonchalantly as he gestures vaguely. “Can’t I have a moment’s peace?”

“Oh, you want a moment’s peace, do ya?” She asks him as she crosses her arms over her chest, dipping her head to the side. “When do I get a moment’s peace, hm? When do I get a bloody weekend when I wake up and there’s not a mess to clean or with my breakfast made for me?” She asks with a cocked brow.

John shifts around in “I let you sleep in. Didn’t make any noise. You chose to get up right now. Could've stayed asleep and you would've woken up to clean dishes.” He remaked with a shrug.

“Ex-cuse me?” Kathleen asked pointedly as she stared at him. 

“You heard me. You’re getting an attitude for no reason, da’ling.” John remarked as he finished gulping down his tea.

Kathleen wanted to yell at him some more. She really wanted to. The man drove her insane, especially when he was like this… Correct.

“Don’t you gaslight me, Jonathan. I have a right to want to wake up to a clean house and some food made for me!” She retorted, grasping at straws for something to justify her anger.

“And this is after you complained I never make breakfast the way you like it?” He retorted as he looked her up and down before standing up, gathering his plate, cutlery and empty cup of tea.

“You-!” She sputtered a bit as she looked up at her husband, who gently moved her aside so he could slip past her back inside the house. “I- You-!” She continued as she followed after him.

”Face it, Kat, you have no leg to stand on, da’lin’.” John remarked as he entered the kitchen.

“Don’t you bloody walk away from me!” She raised her voice and suddenly shoved him from behind. It caused his empty cup of tea to roll of its perch atop the dirty plate he was carrying and shatter into a million pieces on the hardwood floor. 

John stopped in his tracks as soon as the cup fell, so as to not step on the shards and turned to look at her over his shoulder. “Was that fuckin’ necessary, da’lin’?”

“Yes.” Kathleen replied with a bite to her tone as she stared up into his eyes, holding her ground even as he turned and stood over her.

“Really? What’d I do to deserve that push, hm?” He asked her as he dipped his head to the side, blue eyes trailing over the form of his wife beneath him, wrapped in a silken robe that wrapped beautifully around her full figure.

Meanwhile, Kathleen’s brown eyes were glued to her husband’s figure too, trailing over the strong neck, broad shoulders, muscular pecs, soft stomach, and the abundant hair that covered it. 

“You- You were sitting outside like a bloody tart, showin’ off for the bloody neighbors!” She suddenly said as her eyes shot up to look at him, having found something to grasp on to yell at him some more.

John’s eyebrows raised, his lips morphed into a smirk and he gave her a mocking look, his nose scrunching up a bit. “Is that what this is, da’lin’? You’re jealous?” He asked her condescendingly.

“Oh piss off, John, I’m not jealous!” She retorted pointedly as she glared at him.

“Right…” John asked as he took a step over her. “Then why are you complaining about me being shirtless, then?” He teased her as one of his hands moved to grasp her around the chin, squeezing her face lightly.

“I-” Kathleen tried to defend herself, having already realized that today just wasn’t one of her days when it came to having a sharp tongue. So she did what she could, ever competitive she was, wasn’t going to take the disrespect lying down.

Grabbing his forearm, she ripped his hand off her face, then, took the plate off his other hand, and threw it across the living room blindly, hearing it shatter somewhere, probably against the bookshelf by the TV.

“Fuck. You. John Price. I’m sick and tired of your bloody attitude.” She pointed a finger in his face and then poked him on the chest. “You think you can walk around here as you wish, as if you’re in bloody charge? I think the fuck not!” She scolded him.

John didn’t even flinch at her poking him, or the plate being hurled across the room. He was used to this. Used to her. Hell, it turned him on when Kathleen was being a cunt to him.

John reached forward and grabbed her by her right forearm, pulling her against him. “Yeah? Then who’s in charge, da’lin’?” He challenged as he looked down his nose at her.

“It sure as hell isn’t you!” She retorted, her voice, much like her hackles, raised, even if she didn’t try, at all, to pull away from him. She wasn’t afraid of John. Never had been, never would be.

“Let’s see about that then.” John told her as he pulled her over to the living couch, spun her away from him and bent her over the armchair.

Kathleen squeaked softly, knowing well what was coming, as John pinned her wrists behind her back with one hand, the other rolling up her robe to expose her thighs and her ass.

“Who’s in charge, hm?” John goaded her before he whipped his hand back and delivered a hard smack to one of her round ass cheeks, causing it to ripple, a moan falling from her parted lips.

“Not. You.” She replied, huffing a moan again when he delivered a second smack to her ass. “Fuck. You. John.” She grunted through her teeth.

“What’d you say, da’lin’?” John asked as he leaned close to her ear. “Did you just tell me to go fuck myself?” He teased, watching as she fruitlessly writhed over the armrest, her head buried down in the couch cushion, her hands and arms struggling in his grip.

She rolled her head to the side so she could catch him through the corner of her eye. “Yes, I fucking did. And I’ll say it again. Fuck you, John.” She spat at him.

“Tsk-tsk. Brat.” John mused with a smirk on his lips. She could hear it. Then he smacked her again, and again, always making sure to strike the same spot, her skin already redening and blushing as the skin warmed up and the blood vessels popped below it.

John only gave her a break once the dulcets of her voice had softened and her moans had become whimpers, her arms and hands having gone limp in his grasp. “Who’s in charge, Kat?” He checked as he looked at her with a satisfied smirk on his lips.

Kathleen’s brown eyes caught his, her face just as red as her ass, her eyes widened, pupils blown from lust. “Fuck. You.” She gritted through her teeth.

“Oh, that wasn’t enough was it, sweet’art?” He goaded again. “Very well.” He added. John’s hand grabbed hold of the waist band of her panties and pulled them down swiftly, noting the wet spot she had already left in them. 

“Someone’s enjoying being spanked huh, you brat? Someone likes having an attitude adjustment…” He goaded as he let go of her panties, letting them fall around her ankles.

Before Kathleen could even retort properly, John’s rough and calloused fingers delivered a slap to her puffy cunt, causing her to squirm and squeal, her legs straightening up and trembling. 

“John!” She cried out as he continued repeatedly slapping her pussy, causing her to squirm and writhe against the hard material of the armrest below her. 

“That’s it, call my name, da’lin’.” He goaded as he kept repeatedly and continuously smacking her warm, wet folds. “Who’s in charge, here, huh?”

“F-Fuck… You!” She spat at him, as she finally freed her arms from John’s weakened grip. Then, she threw an elbow back, hitting her husband squarely in the nose.

“Ah, you cunt!” John complained as he suddenly stumbled back back, one hand shooting up to cup his now bleeding nose, while Kathleen suddenly rolled off her perch on the couch.

“No, you’re the cunt!” She retorted before suddenly lunging herself at him, throwing her whole weight on top of John, who, not expecting it, landed on the floor with a hard thud.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, Kat!” John replied as he tried to get a grab at his wife, instead, only getting her trying to grip him by the arms and pin him to the floor.

She struggled with it, of course, she might have some military training, but not nearly enough to fight him, and definitely not enough strength to fight him.

His forearms bulged under her hands, the rough skin prickling with goosebumps, the adrenaline flowing through his veins, as well as hers, the both of them desperate to fight the other.

John bucked his hips and rolled them over before she could even attempt a proper pin down, landing her on the floor with a thud and a huff from her lungs.

He grabbed her by the hair with one hand, the other gripping her wrists together and pining her to the floor instead. 

Kathleen wrapped her legs around his hip and attempted to roll them over again, unsuccessfully, so, instead, she did the only thing she could do. She leaned up and spat in John’s face.

John’s eyes closed for a moment and his jaw clenched before they opened again, looking even more angry and… horny than before. “Is that how it’s going to be, Kathleen?” He asked her as he let go of her hair and used his hand to collect the spit off his skin. 

“Yeah, it is-” She barely had time to continue before he was plugging her mouth with his fingers, causing her to swallow them and her own saliva back up, pressing down on his tongue, preventing her from continuing her tirade.

“Keep your smart-ass gob shut, sweetheart, or you won't have a fuckin' jaw to move when I'm done wit ya.” He told her, eyes locked on hers. Kathleen looked up at him, eyes widened, pupils blown, before she wrapped her lips around his fingers, beginning to give him a suck.

“That’s it…” He told her. “You look so much better with your mouth shut…” He goaded her with a smirk on his lips. Kathleen’s eyes sparkled with mischief at his comment, a clear sign that she felt challenged by his condescending tone… So, she bit down onto his fingers as hard as he could.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, Kat…” John hissed as he pushed his fingers deeper in her mouth like one would a dog, causing her to sputter and choke, and forcing her to let go of them, allowing him to pull them back out.

“C’mere.” He demanded and grabbed her jaw with tight fingers, forcing her mouth to open, before he swished his tongue inside his own mouth to collect some saliva, before spitting it into her mouth. “Swallow.” He demanded and, for once, she obeyed. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

Kathleen then squeaked in surprise as he pulled open her robe, leaving it splayed open on the hardwood floor before he grabbed one of her legs, pushing it up against her chest while he sat over the other one.

“We need to adjust that fuckin’ attitude of yours. It’s way too bloody early for you to be fightin’ me, you hear?!” He taunted her as he undid the fly in his jeans and shimmied both his the trousers and boxer briefs down, allowing him to pull out his hardened cock.

“Fuck you, John.” She retorted as she squirmed a bit beneath him, trying to drag herself away with the help of her elbows.

“That’s what I’m about to do to you, sweetheart.” He taunted her before he quickly grabbed hold of her again, using one hand to push her down against the floor, one hand wrapped around her jaw and neck, while the other wrapped around his cock and used it to brush his leaky tip against her folds.

“John-” Kathleen grumbled as she wrapped her own hands around his hairy forearm, nails digging into his flexed muscle, dragging drown his skin.

“Sh-Shhh…”  He murmured before he drove his cock deep into her cunt, causing her to huff and moan, her head falling back as he plunged as far as he could.

“That’s my girl…” He teased her. He shifted around and lifted her other leg too, pushing it forward against her chest, allowing him to sink in deeper, before he started thrusting his hips down into her.

Her warm walls spread open to accommodate him, his cock making way inside fully with each snap of his hips. “That’s it… That’s what you needed, isn’t it?” He goaded her with a smirk. Unluckily for her, Kathleen could do little more than nod in agreement.

“Tell me you love me, da’lin’...” John cooed at his wife as he pounded deep into her, reaching that spot in her walls that only John had ever been able to reach.

“I love y-oooh…” Kathleen murmured, being cut off by a sudden shift in his demeanor, a more aggressive, ruthless rhythm coming into place, his hips snapping punishingly against hers, his cock bottoming out in her.

“That’s it, Kat, tell me you love me… Tell me you love me…” He repeated over and over. “Tell me you love me and my cock inside you, da’lin’... Tell me…”

“I love you, John…” Kathleen whined, her head rolling back on the hard floor, her arms wrapping around his neck and shoulders, fingers digging into the flesh spot between his shoulder blades, her nails just barely grazing the tattoo on his nape.

“You’re such a fuckin’ cunt, Kat… Such a fuckin’ cunt… But I love you so much…” John murmured before he pressed his lips into hers in a sloppy, wet kiss.

[its-all-stardust]

Steven Grant x gn!reader, may-haps, something sorta fluffy, like they’ve both had a rather long day, maybe it ends with Steven reading to the reader and them falling asleep on them couch together? Feel free to ignore, it’s not particularly interesting

It's your lucky day!! I did NOT ignore this request because it gives me some writing practice and a chance to think about something else besides my current project for a little bit.

I did tweak this just a tad, but such is the nature of fic requests. I hope you enjoy!!

Masterlist

Word Count: 783

When you walked through the apartment door, the lights were turned down low, and the smell of what you suspected to be takeaway from your favorite restaurant wafted toward you. You breathed a sigh of relief, a weight lifted off your shoulders.

When you texted Steven earlier about the downward spiral that was your work day—and the resulting headache that threatened to become a migraine at the slightest provocation—you weren’t doing anything more than venting. You hadn’t asked nor expected him to take over dinner when it was your night to cook.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said, greeting Steven with a peck on the cheek. He arranged the containers on the counter, perfectly timing everything to your arrival.

“I’ll remember that for the next time you’re not feeling well. Make you do everything yourself,” Steven teased, filling your plate for you.

You smiled, knowing he would never do such a thing. You both worry over each other when one isn’t feeling the best, doing whatever you can to make the other’s day easier. Steven taking care of you like this, without expecting it or asking for it, made you love him even more.

“Work that bad?” he asked when you pulled a bottle of painkillers from the cupboard.

“Just exhausting. This one guy was off today, which made it busier than normal. Felt like things just kept piling up.” You swallowed the pills with a cool glass of whatever, then pressed it to your temple for a moment, hoping it would ease the pounding in your skull.

Dinner, usually filled with conversations about all manner of things, was silent. Peace and quiet weren’t often found at your workplace and is one of the causes of your current state.

Steven, bless him, knew you well enough to give it to you now. Anything he wanted to say could wait for a better time.

Throughout the meal, you couldn’t help but notice Steven constantly, openly, staring at you.

“I’m not going to break, you know,” you teased, smiling softly as you sat back in your chair, finished eating.

“Well, now, I can’t have you straining yourself,” Steven said, collecting your plate and taking it to the sink. “I’ve got the bathroom ready for you wherever you’re up for it,” he continued casually as if he weren’t still doting on you.

You weren’t complaining about it, though.

In the bathroom, you found Steven had indeed done everything besides strip you and turn on the water. If your apartment had a bathtub, he probably would have it filled with bubbles. Instead, he left a shower steamer near the stall wall—something he insisted was for emergencies. Clearly, in Steven’s mind, this was one. He even had towels laid out beside your pajamas, neatly folded as opposed to the crumpled ball you usually had them in.

You half-expected soothing meditation music to pour from the Bluetooth speaker set up by the sink, but it never did. Steven probably worried it might irritate your headache more and refrained.

By the time you stepped out of the bathroom, the scent of the milk and honey steamer trailing after you, your head no longer felt like it would explode.

Despite it, you were still exhausted, the desire to collapse looming over you.

Usually, evenings were spent with Steven in some capacity, but you didn’t have the mental bandwidth for even something as simple as watching a trashy reality show.

“Lie with me for a bit?” Steven asked, of course ready to ambush you as soon as you left the bathroom. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he had his ear pressed to the door.

He was on the couch with the soft blanket that normally decorated the back spread out and waiting for you.

Even when you felt like shit, you weren’t passing up the chance to cuddle with your boyfriend. You happily crawled under the blanket when Steven lifted it up for you, and you leaned into his side. His hand went to the back of your neck and started lightly massaging, trying to ease any tension.

A pleased hum escaped you, your eyes falling closed.

And then Steven started to read. Opening your eyes again, you see he had something pulled up on his phone. 

“What is that?” you asked. You didn’t mind that he wanted to read to you—Steven’s reading voice was actually quite pleasant, narrating with the perfect cadence and tone.

“Hush. You don’t have to know what it is. You just need to listen,” Steven lightly scolded, taking his self-assigned job as your caretaker very seriously.

You smiled, settling back into Steven’s side, and let the words wash over you until you fell asleep.

[thiamsalpha]

Cooking Chaos link

wc: 849 - rating: G - tw: none - @thiamficweekly

Corey and Liam attempt to cook for their boyfriends but when they arrive, Mason and Theo are met with utter chaos...

The fire alarm would not stop, no matter how many times Corey poked it with a stick. On the other side was Liam who had somehow managed to burn pasta, yep he burnt boiled pasta.

Don't ask.

"We literally suck," Corey said, continuing to smack the smoke alarm. “It won’t stop!”

"Hit it harder-" Liam took the stick from Corey before he smacked it off the wall, a smug expression upon his face as it flew through the window. “Now it’s quiet.”

"Did we at least cook the muffins right?" Corey sighed.

Liam nodded in relief. "Yep, we added milk, butter and the ingredients. Who could mess up boxed muffins?"

Liam laughed, that was when Corey grabbed the box. Upon further inspection it appeared that they could in fact mess up boxed muffins. "Liam-" his lips formed a frown.

"Don't say it-" Liam said leaning back, unable to even look at the box. “Don’t say it.”

"We forgot the eggs..."

Liam let out a frustrated growl, "how did we manage that? I read the box, twice!" Liam whined. Grabbing the box he threw it at the bin, his aim way off and missing it completely.

"Okay we completely suck," Corey said, running a hand through his short hair. “Majorly.”

"I just wanted to surprise Theo and Mason with a nice dinner and muffins, instead they're coming back to a smashed window, a missing fire alarm, burnt pasta and missing ingredient muffins!"

Corey couldn't help the laugh that escaped him, "ah yes, very sad-" he said trying to compose himself.

Liam shook his head "maybe if we slap some sauce and icing on it they won't know?"

"That's genius!" Corey boasted, grabbing the icing from the fridge he slapped it onto the muffins, hiding the indents and burnt top. Liam on the other side was covering the burnt and hardened pasta in tomato sauce.

"They won't know," Liam said, a big dopey smile on his face. "Until they eat it" he quickly added. Corey snickered, "they're here-" he said upon hearing Theo's truck pull up, "no, it's not done-"

"Stop! Grab the drinks-" Corey said nudging Liam, the beta scurried to the fridge and grabbed out two cans of soft drink, placing them on the bench with their failed attempt at muffins and spaghetti Bolognese. “They aren’t going to buy this…”

Upon entering the home the first thing both of them noticed was the ridiculous amount of smoke that had accumulated around the room, Theo coughed. "What the— did you two burn the house down while we were gone?"

Liam sighed, "kind of-"

Approaching their partners they were met with plates of the spaghetti and muffins. "Aww did you two cook?" Mason asked, attempting to grab a muffin only for Liam to smack his hand away.

"I wouldn't—”

Mason frowned, "are they not for us?"

Sharing a curious yet amused glance with Theo "can we try some?" Theo asked. Corey turned to Liam, who nodded.

"I mean, you can definitely try," Liam said allowing Theo to take the plate.

"That's mildly concerning." Theo said placing the plate down and grabbing a fork. In his attempt to twist the pasta with his fork, he realised the problem. "How did you manage to burn pasta?"

Immediately Liam began to whine, "Ah! I tried to boil it, I read the stupid box it came in, I kept an eye on it and when I came back it was burnt," Liam explained.

"If you kept an eye on it where did you go?" Theo asked.

"I may have gotten caught up watching tv... but I didn't think it would burn! It's in water," Liam exclaimed, frustration and disappointment was written clear on his face.

Theo smiled, "I appreciate the thought.”

Liam sighed, "we tried," he shrugged.

Theo cupped his face, "and I deeply appreciate the thought," he said placing a kiss upon Liam's nose.

"Maybe leave the cooking up to us from now on," Mason said.

Corey nodded, "I second that," he said wrapping his arms around Mason's waist and kissing his cheek.

"Wait, where did the smoke alarm go off? This place is so foggy," Theo asked before looking up.

Liam bit his lip "I kind of knocked it off," he confessed.

Theo frowned, "where is it?" He asked.

Liam looked to Corey before looking down "kind of out the window?" Liam admitted "but! In my defence, it was really loud and annoying-"

"Li, that's the point," Theo said shaking his head, "you worry me sometimes." Liam laughed, nuzzling his face into Theo's chest. Theo's hand behind Liam's head as he kept the beta close.

"Well considering all the stress you two went through to make us these, lovely? Dishes. I think it's only fair that we clean it up and make us something actually edible," Masons declared, Theo was quick to nod.

Giving Liam a smack on the bottom the beta and chameleon scurried off. "They're odd ones," Mason said shaking his head, Theo couldn't agree more.

"Yes, but they're our odd ones," he said before the four of them bursted out howling with laughter. Never again would Liam and Corey be trusted in the kitchen together, never.

[makeitmingi]

The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 16]

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho

Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?

Word count: 3.3K

You woke up in the middle of the night, leaving an asleep Seonghwa in bed and heading out to the kitchen. Shuffling over to the fridge, you grabbed the bottle of chocolate milk and poured yourself a glass. The talk that you had with Seonghwa earlier resulted in you crying, which accounted for the headache you were having now.

'Dear customer, your package has been delivered. Please find it outside your door.'

You read the notification as you drank your chocolate milk. Putting the glass down, you went to the front door and opened it. There was a bouquet of flowers and a box of vitamin shots.

'Hey, (y/n). Get well soon! ^-^ Drink lots of water and vitamin drinks. Looking at the flowers might make you feel better. - Yunho'

Reading the note, you couldn't help but let out a chuckle. That warm feeling in your chest was back at the though of Yunho doing something nice for you.

"Sweetheart, is someone here?" Seonghwa asked with a frown, rubbing his eye tiredly.

"No. Yunho got some flowers and vitamins delivered for me. I guess I was too busy crying to have heard the doorbell earlier." You chuckled, putting the vitamin drinks and flowers on the counter. Seonghwa let out a hum.

"Let's go back to bed first?" He suggested. You nodded, slipping your hand into his and going back to the room to sleep. You curled up against Seonghwa's side.

"He was worried, you know? Kept asking me if you were okay. Lurking around whenever you were mentioned." He said.

"Really?" You asked, a little surprised at this information. He hummed again, closing his eyes.

"I'm sure he was just being a nice friend and boss." You yawned. Seonghwa shrugged before falling back asleep. You closed your eyes, going back to dreamland as well.

When your alarm rang, Seonghwa went to get ready first, giving you just a few more minutes to snooze. After he was done, you brushed your teeth and washed your face, changing into clothes for work.

"Sure you're good to go in today?" Seonghwa asked as you picked out your coat.

"I wasn't actually sick, Hwa." You said, taking the coat off the hanger and placing it back onto the rack. Of course, Seonghwa knew that you weren't actually sick. You knew that he was referring to your mental state, whether you were ready to go back to the pressures of being in the kitchen.

"Don't worry, hmm? I need the distraction." You whispered and lightly pecked his cheek before exiting the bedroom. As you entered the kitchen, you noticed the flowers in a vase.

"You put them in a vase again?" You asked.

"Yeah, actually did it before they could wilt this time." Seonghwa chuckled. You rolled your eyes and went to get some coffee.

"Before that." Seonghwa's hand came to cover the mouth of your mug. Like a dog, you wanted to bite his hand for obstructing you and blocking you from the coffee.

"Here. Drink this since you have it, might as well." He handed you a small bottle of the vitamin shots Yunho bought.

"Fine." You sighed and put your coffee cup down. You downed the small shot of vitamin.

"Happy?" You rolled your eyes.

"Very." Seonghwa smiled, pinching your cheek. With not much time left, you put your coffee into a to go mug and left with Seonghwa. He drove his car while you spaced out in the passenger seat, admiring the sky before the sun rose and sipped your coffee.

"JAGIYA!" Wooyoung crushed you into a hug the moment he saw you. Jongho and Seonghwa shushed him for yelling when it was still so early.

"I missed you." He gave you a kiss on the cheek. You smiled softly, patting his back.

"Missed you too..." You murmured.

"Alright, can we take this inside? It's freezing out here." Jongho shivered. Wooyoung kept his arms around you as you all walked into the empty kitchen.

"She is not your jagiya." Seonghwa glared, peeling a whining Wooyoung away from you while you laughed.

"I'm glad you're back. And that you're okay." Jongho said, squeezing your hand with a kind smile.

"Thanks, Jong." You gave him a brief hug. After that, you began to prep for the morning bakes. The boys were the ones that came up with the menu for the morning, they wanted to give you a break while you were resting. And by all means, if they wanted to be in charge, you wouldn't stop them.

"Ooh pain au chocolat?" You looked at the cold dough that Wooyoung retrieved from the fridge. He nodded as Jongho placed the tub of chocolate pieces beside him.

"I can do the pumpkin pie." You raised your hand. This was a Korean take on pumpkin pie with pieces of rice cake in the filling.

"I'll do the flapjacks and get that in the oven." Jongho said, checking the list.

"What cake are we doing today?" You asked.

"Main attraction is raspberry vanilla sponge with lemon curd. Other than that, we've got a chocolate orange cake and an apple cake. Very fruit forward for today's flavours." Seonghwa laughed.

"I'll do the apple cake when I'm done. Jong, can you prep the apples for me when you're done?" You requested.

"Sure. Flapjacks should be done and in the oven in no time." Jongho nodded and went to retrieve the ingredients he needed.

Before Yunho entered the kitchen, he looked at his phone. He received the notification that the flowers and vitamin drinks had been sent to you but he hadn't heard anything from you. Not that he was expecting a 'thanks'... Just disappointed.

"Good morn- (y/n), you're back." Yunho's eyebrows raised in interest as a smile took over his face and he went over to you. You hummed and looked up at him, seeing his bright smile.

"A-Are you okay?" He asked worriedly.

"I'm fine, Yunho. Thank you. And thanks for sending over the vitamin drinks and flowers."

"Oh! I was worried that you didn't receive them. But I'm glad that you did, I hope they made you feel better." Yunho said, feeling his heart calm down a little.

"They did. I thought it would be better to thank you in person rather than text you late at night." You explained.

"Did you like them?" His eyes sparkled in anticipation as you brought up the gifts that he had sent over to you. You nodded with a small smile, making Yunho grin.

"That's all that matters. I'm glad you're okay." He said softly. You paused as you felt your heart skip a beat at that.

"I'm going to set up now. If you need a break, just rest, alright? Don't push yourself too hard." Yunho surprised you, reaching out to stroke your head before he finally went to put his bag down in the locker room and went out to prepare the storefront for the morning. You were stunned, not expecting him to do that.

"Oooooooooh~" Wooyoung teased from his spot in the kitchen. You rolled your eyes and flipped him off before returning to your task earlier. You poured the pie filling into the shell.

"Here. The rice cake dough was made last night." Jongho handed you the dough.

"Thank you." You began to roll the dough to put in the filling. Mingi, Hongjoong, Yeosang and San came in.

"Great to have you back, (y/n)." San grinned and hugged you. Even if you were not comfortable with hugs, you still let him hug you, you didn't want to make him feel bad.

"Feeling better?" Yeosang asked.

"Yes, thank you for your concern." You replied with a small bow of your head. Mingi went out to see Yunho already preparing.

"So, you seem happier." Mingi bumped his hip against Yunho's with a teasing chuckle. Yunho shot his best friend a confused look, not knowing what he was referring to.

"(y/n)'s back so I assume you won't be so mopey?" Mingi explained. Yunho rolled his eyes.

"What are you talking about? I wasn't mopey. I was concerned for a friend. If any of you were sick, I would be just as worried. Don't say things like that, it could make her upset." Yunho scolded. He didn't want you to overhear and misunderstand.

"Sure~" Mingi sang and went to restock the barista counter. He topped up the milk, chocolate power and coffee beans. Hongjoong and Yeosang stacked the cleaned dishes.

"Need help?" Yunho slipped over to you.

"Help me measure these out? I'll take over once I get these in the oven." You said. Yunho nodded and took the paper from you.

"Pumpkin pie going in the oven." You announced. Seonghwa helped you with the trays and you set the timer, clipping it to the pocket of your apron.

"I'm doing the apples now, (y/n)." Jongho informed.

"Thanks." You went back to where Yunho was standing by your station, weighing out each ingredient.

"Is this for the apple cake?" Yunho asked. He was a lot more confident in weighing the ingredients, like heavily pouring them onto the scale rather than do it gingerly.

"Yes. We're combining the apples to give a variety of tartness and sweetness. Brings good balance. We've got a mix of braeburn, granny smith and golden delicious. They have different textures after baking as well." You said as you began to mix the batter together. Jongho brought the chopped apples to you.

"So now we just put the apples in here and the rum. Mix." You said, bringing the batter over to the mixers.

"Do you remember how to butter and flour the pans?" You asked Yunho and pointed at the cake pans you will be using. He nodded his head excitedly.

"I'll do them now!" You've taught him this, coating the cake pans with softened butter and then a layer of flour to prevent sticking. You looked over at Yunho who was so focused with a frown on his face.

"Here. Use a paper towel so you put too thick a layer." You demonstrated, noticing how much butter he was applying.

"Oh, sorry." He apologised.

"Don't apologise." You told him with a softer tone. Yunho smiled gratefully and continued to finish up the cake pans like how you taught him.

"Bring it over when you're done." You instructed. You scooped the cake batter into the pans and Wooyoung helped you take your pumpkin pies out of the oven so you could put the cakes in. After that, you set another time for them.

"The crust looks good." Wooyoung said, lightly tapping the pie crust with his finger.

"I tried a different short crust recipe." Jongho informed. The boys never needed to ask you for permission to try new recipes. You loved recipe testing and experimenting with them.

"It smells good." Yunho said. You nodded in agreement.

"We're good here, Yunho. If you need to go settle stuff out front." You told him. Yunho visibly deflated, his shoulders slumping and a pout forming on his face.

"I'm not kicking you out. But you left your front crew out there." You raised an eyebrow.

"Aww but... they can handle it, I promise." He pouted. Like a sad puppy for being kicked out of the kitchen.

"You're the owner. Do what you want." You shrugged, moving to help Seonghwa with what he was working on. Yunho straightened up with an excited smile, his non existent tail now wagging again.

"Come here. You. Don't think you can slack off because you're the owner." Mingi marched in, holding Yunho's hand and leading him out of the kitchen. Yunho whimpered in protest as he was dragged away. You chuckled, maybe you were wrong, Yunho couldn't do what he wanted even though he was the owner.

"I wasn't slacking! I was helping." Yunho corrected with a frown. Mingi rolled his eyes.

"Whatever you say." San snorted.

"Yeosang and San. If you guys are available, could you help us with bringing the finished goods out? They're quite heavy." You poked your head out.

"Sure, (y/n)." The two replied and went into the kitchen. Yunho sulked, he was strong too. But you never called him to help.

*BZZ BZZ*

Yunho stopped counting the float money in the register and took his phone out to check the text that he received. As he read it, his eyes widened. Mingi and Hongjoong, noticed him frozen in his place.

"What's wrong?" Hongjoong asked.

"My parents want to come for dinner tonight... Like, to our restaurant..." Yunho said slowly. Yes, he did invite his parents to come but he expected more prior warning. He didn't think they would tell him the day of.

"What do I do?" Yunho asked, slightly panicked now. He knew the restaurant was ready but he was still freaking out a little at the thought of them coming here for the first time.

"Why are you freaking out? It's just your parents." Mingi asked in confusion.

"Because they'll judge the place, Mingi ah. Parents can be the harshest critics." Hongjoong explained.

"Oh. But Yunho's parents are nice." Mingi said. Just as he said that, his own phone buzzed. He took it out and read it, as he read his eyebrows started to raise.

"Well, looks like all the parents are coming." Mingi announced. Hongjoong checked his phone. Indeed, there was a message from his mother informing him about the collective parent dinner tonight.

"They're all coming? It's fine! It'll be fine... I'm sure it will be fine... right?" Yunho smiled nervously.

"Yes. It will be, Yunho." Hongjoong nodded assuringly.

"I won't be fine. Imagine all the parents coming together. I mean, that just means all the critics will be coming collectively right?" Mingi stated. Hongjoong slapped the back of his head. He cursed, rubbing his head as he turned to glare at Hongjoong, totally not getting why the older just hit him.

"Shut up." Hongjoong said through gritted teeth. Yunho let out a long, drawn out groan of despair.

"It's okay to be nervous, Yun. But like Hongjoong hyung said, it will be fine. We are functioning well as a team so just treat it like any other business night." Mingi comforted.

"Now that, I agree with." Hongjoong smiled.

"Hey, did you see the text from the parents?" San and Yeosang asked as they finished putting the stuff into the display case.

"Yeah. But we were just telling Yunho that it will be fine. Things will go on just as they always do during dinner service. Let's just corner off a section for them." Hongjoong said.

"Yes, don't worry!" Yeosang gave a thumbs up. San passed Hongjoong to iPad.

"With the reservations tonight, I'll just shift them around and leave the two big booths open. In case any of our siblings join." Hongjoong said.

"Sounds good. Thanks, hyung. I should go tell the kitchen crew to prepare. Help me open up for the day?" Yunho left the 4 to go into the kitchen. The kitchen crew were finishing up their bakes for the morning, as well as starting the clean up.

"What do you need, hyung?" Jongho asked.

"Sorry to interrupt. I'll be quick, if I could all speak to you for a bit?" Yunho twiddled his thumbs. You shot him a suspicious look, he was so cheery moments ago.

"So, we were just informed that our parents, including my parents, will be coming for dinner tonight for the first time." He started.

"I-I know you guys always do a good job and I'm not saying you aren't but-" Yunho rambled.

"We'll make sure to plan accordingly, Yunho." Seonghwa smiled.

"Thank you." He let out a sigh of relief, glad that he was understood without him needing to further explain. His eyes trailed to you, who was standing there, as usual with an unreadable expression.

"Do you want us to curate a special menu for them? Or go fancy?" You asked, trying to understand Yunho's expectations.

"There's no need to make a whole separate menu for them. That would be too much work. But I guess, we can go a little fancy?" He scratched his head. As 'perfect' as he wanted this to go, he didn't want to add on more tasks or inconvenience your team even more when you were only 4 people.

"We'll see what we can do. Don't worry about it. Trust us." Wooyoung squeezed his arm with a kind smile. Yunho cracked a small smile and nodded, bowing to all of you before exiting.

"Let's finish up and start discussing the dinner menu then. We may need to start prepping now." You told the 3.

"On it." The boys and yourself were quick to jump back. Wooyoung finished up the baking for the morning while the rest of you cleaned.

"If you guys are ready, let's start brainstorming." You said to them. You laid out the pieces of paper that you would be writing the different courses on.

"We haven't done something so serious in a while." Seonghwa chuckled as you grabbed your sharpie.

"Last time we did this, we did it for a garden banquet, right?" Jongho recounted. You nodded with a fond smile at the memory.

"Same as always, I would like to start thinking about our mains first before we move to appetisers and desserts. I do not want to do more than 4 mains and overwhelm us. If we have 4, we take ownership of one dish each." You said.

"Yunho said we can go fancy." Wooyoung shrugged.

"We should do at least two dishes with Korean flavours. The others can be Western or other Asian flavours." Seonghwa said.

"Agreed." You all nodded. You all headed into the walk in to see what you had and thought about dishes. Closing your eyes, you tried to visualise a dish.

"If I may, I have binchotan (white charcoal) at home. Can I do a binchotan grilled cod fillet?" Jongho requested.

"How will you serve it?"

"Miso, white soy brush over top. Serve it with... confit garlic, haricot bean mash and wilted crown daisy." He read from his phone, where he had jotted down ideas earlier.

"Sounds good." You nodded and wrote it down. The conversation continued with all of you tossing in ideas and suggestions.

"I really want to do crackling on the pork belly we have. I'll brush the underside meat part in a gochujang, rice syrup marinade type sauce. It'll go well served with the white kimchi that we made and pumpkin puree. I can char some heritage carrots in the pan too." Wooyoung raised his hand.

"Alright. Done. Hwa?" You looked at your best friend. Seonghwa scrolled on his phone, looking at any past recipes or ideas that he had for dishes.

"I had an old idea here. I made tea smoked duck breast with plum sauce, wok fried julienned bussel sprouts and a herb salad."

"What's in the herb salad?" Jongho asked.

"Peking duck is usually served with cucumber and scallions. I'll shred those, mix in some coriander, mugwort and maybe holy basil for that similar anise flavour that I'll have on the duck." He replied.

"Got that down. So that leaves me with the last Korean flavour dish." You said after writing down Seonghwa's dish.

"What did you have in mind?" Wooyoung turned to you.

The boys didn't bother asking if you wanted to swap cuisine with them. You purposely left yourself last since you liked the challenge of having to come up with a dish.

"Oh, I know just the dish to make." You smiled knowingly, making all the boys send you puzzled looks.

~

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