#and eating spaghetti and meatballs

[the-witchhunter]

DP x DC: Puppy Love

Waiting for my friend in the emergency room(they’re fine, we’ll not fine obviously but not actively dying) so might as well write on my phone

So if there are two things I’m adamant about it’s that Alfred should still be alive and that DC SHOULD GIVE JASON BACK HIS DOG

For those poor souls that do not know, Jason had a dog name, and this is 100% true, Dog. Jason is canonically bad at naming things so he named his dog Dog. And the storyline between him and her is actually really touching. He rescued her from a dog fighting ring where she was used to bait dogs. Jason earned her trust showed her kindness and she loves him for it and it makes me emotional. GIVE JASON BACK HIS DOG YOU MONSTERS

She’s not dead just got written out by giving her to someone, but still, that man loves and pampers Dog, gave her an engraved nameplate and everything

But consider Cujo, the ghost of a dog being trained to be a guard dog, put to death long before his time wanting the thing that made him happy in life: his toy. Danny finds him, bonds with him and helps him get back the thing he loves most, and Cujo loves Danny for it.

A story as old as time, a boy and his dog, or in Danny’s case a boy and his ghost dog.

So imagine this: Danny moved to Gotham with Cujo and things are going great, except for one thing.

Cujo has a little crush

Now normally this wouldn’t be a problem, but Cujo is a ghost. Aka he can walk through walls. So when Cujo wants to visit his lady friend, he just bolts right through the wall, and leads Danny on a merry chase.

Meanwhile Jason is confused to come home to his penthouse only to find Dog cuddled up with a smaller green dog that isn’t Beast Boy. The other dog is friendly and gets along with Dog, but it’s driving him crazy wondering how he got in without tripping an alarm. Then there’s a knock on the door

Jason opens the door to find an out of breath guy about his age with black hair, blue eyes and windswept hair that might have been intentional if it hadn’t been for a few leaves stuck in it.

And that’s how Jason met Danny

Cut to this happening a few more times and then turns into organizing little “dates” for their dogs and the while falling slowly in love with each other romcom style

That’s right, this has been a romcom about two dog owners falling in love because their dogs are literally obsessed with each other

Bonus: Danny giving Cujo “the Talk”

Danny, wagging his finger: Don’t make a rosemary’s baby, understand?

Cujo: Bark

Danny: ... good.

[hamstringy]

at the part of brain fog where I’ve recovered just enough brain function to realize I’m having brain fog and to be bored absolutely shitless by the, like, two activities I can do but not enough to be able to do anything enriching

[hexadopamine]

coworkers

[a-snowpoff]

Happy Thanksgiving!

[blinkpen]

i keep imagining hollow scavenger's reign as like zoe and charlie mantledwellers's horrible fusion homonculus daughter/the cat or small dog a gay couple treats like their literal child, either way i can't get over the mental image of like

[fruit-berries-herbs]

[chicago-geniza]

Tale of the Body Thief when Lestat is living as a mortal...that's what gender dysphoria and autism feel like!!! Anne Rice is One of Us, as I keep saying

[sinkat-arts]

Comfort Food

Fluffy Daisuga one-shot in which Daichi is sick and Suga just wants him to go rest. And also a sandwich is made.

On AO3 >

--

“Out, out, out!” Koushi commands. He stands by the kitchen island, chest puffed up and face stern as he points an indignant finger behind him, towards the living room, “Out of the kitchen this instant, or so help me…”

“Kou, I can do it myself. I’m not…” Daichi begins a valiant attempt to wave his husband off, but stops short when Koushi raises his eyebrows in disbelief. It’s clearly an invitation to keep talking, the look on his face says he’s waiting, that he’d like Daichi to continue and do all the work of digging the hole for him. Shoulders slumped, Daichi sighs in defeat… and that sigh turns into a cough that rattles his chest and has him leaning on the countertop for support. 

“You are ,” Koushi says as he moves swiftly to Daichi’s side. He places his palm in between his shoulder blades, moving it firmly up and down until the coughing fit subsides. “Dai, come on, you need to go back to the couch. I’ll finish your…” His eyes flit to the ingredients laid out before them and his brows press together. “What… what were you trying to make?” 

Daichi sees the confusion on Koushi’s face and follows his gaze to the pile of things he’d dragged out. Leftover spaghetti, a tomato, cheese, half an onion, a stick of butter, a head of lettuce, cilantro, carrots, celery, a bag of potato chips, an orange…

“A… sandwich?” Daichi answers, reluctant to explain but knowing he’ll have to. 

“Babe, we have got to get you to the doctor,” Koushi says. One hand is still on Daichi’s back, and it makes a gentle circle as Koushi places the other on Daichi’s forehead. “You’re messing up food . Your fever must have spiked… Are you hallucinating?” 

Daichi laughs, and it’s a rough, grinding sound for all the gunk in his chest and the fire in his throat. He meets his husband’s wide-eyed stare - the shock plain on his face - as Daichi takes the hand that had been pressed against his forehead into his own.

“No,” He says, “Worse.” 

The look Koushi gives him, how he’s so completely flummoxed, the way his mouth hangs open, and the way it was so obvious that his brain was working to make all the dots connect, makes Daichi chuckle again. He’s always handsome, but sometimes he can be so damn cute it hurts.   

“I’ve reverted. You’re looking at how I ate in college,” he explains in a tone that is as serious and solemn as he can make it, “It’s a dark past, I didn’t want you to see this. I must be sick.”

“You don’t say?” Koushi responds, and his tone is somehow both sarcastic and flabbergasted. He turns again to the food on the counter. “This is… a sandwich? Really?” 

“Not yet,” Daichi answers, “It will be. Or was going to be. It’s like… a patty melt, but with spaghetti. Kind of… greasy comfort food.”

Koushi’s mind again goes to work, assembling a sandwich in his head based on the facts at hand, and finally looks up.

“Ok, I get all this,” he says, gesturing to the spaghetti, lettuce, tomato, cheese, and butter, “But celery and carrots?”

“Gotta have some kind of vegetable on the side,” Daichi explains, “That’s how you know it’s healthy.”

Koushi wrinkles his nose at Daichi and shakes his head. “Keep telling yourself that… but ok… I guess the chips are a side, too…”

“Nope, they go on it… for the crunch. It’s a texture thing.” 

“Uh huh,” Koushi says, dubious, and just looks at him for a moment before rolling his eyes and continuing down the list. “The cilantro?”

“That was actually a mistake. I thought it was parsley… but I wouldn’t be above trying it.”

 “Acceptable answer… and… the orange?”

Daichi shrugs. “I just like oranges.” 

“Thank god,” Koushi breathes out in relief, “I was scared you used the juice for, like a sauce or something.”

Daichi hums thoughtfully, “Well now that you mention it…”

“Gross,” Koushi says, “I love you and you’re gross and I want you out of my sight.” 

“That’s mean,” Daichi says, hand to his heart in mock pain, “You should be nicer to me… don’t you know I’m siiiiiick.” He stretches the word out, trying to be cute, but the way his shredded voice delivers the line is more like a sputtering lawnmower. 

“Yes, I do! And big, sick babies belong on the couch so their doting husbands can take care of them and not serve them garbage food for lunch,” Koushi argues, giving Daichi a shove in the direction of their living room, “Now go, you’re banished from the kitchen.” 

Daichi moves to leave before Koushi stops him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Seriously, chill and let me take care of you for once? Please?” He says in a lower, sweeter tone that makes Daichi’s heart lurch forward and brings a dumb, stupid smile to his face. He nods, wishing he weren’t sick so he could collect this man in his arms and kiss him until neither of them could breathe. 

But he’s having trouble enough breathing as it is. The journey from the kitchen to the couch is long and arduous, and he’s woozy by the time he finally sinks into the nest Koushi made him as soon as his temperature hit 38. 

The sounds of Koushi banging around in the kitchen fill the air, and Daichi takes a moment to look around him. He’s bundled up in soft blankets and supported by part of their not-insignificant collection of pillows. He has water, medicine, tissues, and cough drops at his fingertips. There are books beside him, some are a few volumes of a manga Koushi desperately wants him to read and some are books of puzzles to occupy time. There are empty mugs that had held tea to soothe his throat and help him sleep. Koushi had even let him borrow that damn stuffed bear he slept with when Daichi was away so he’d have something to brace himself when the coughing fits were too bad. 

In short, he is surrounded by all the trappings of his husband’s love for him. If he’d ever doubted that he was loved… here is all the evidence he needed to prove it. Daichi is so full now that his chest hurts for a reason other than the congestion it contained. It’s overwhelming. He feels like crying out of happiness, but instead he just holds on to Koushi’s bear more tightly and closes his eyes. 

He dozes a bit, coming back to reality when Koushi gently touches his shoulder. There’s a plate in his hand and a look in his eye that’s hard to read. He seems… hesitant? But there’s also the look of expectation and maybe even a hair of smarmy pleasure on his face. 

“After this monstrosity,” he says, using his free hand to replace his bear with an older pillow, “I hope you never doubt my love for you for even a single second.” With that, he lowers the plate onto the pillow and stands in triumph over them. 

Daichi looks at the plate in shock. He’d made the damn sandwich. All that earlier - Koushi wasn’t really poking fun at him… he was making sure he understood what Daichi was planning for each ingredient, so he could replicate it for him. That too-tight feeling from earlier returns, and maybe it’s because he’s so sick that he can’t regulate his emotions, or maybe this is just who he is, but he does cry, just a little, over his sandwich. 

“Hey,” Koushi soothes, and slots in next to him on the couch, one hand stroking the short hair at the back of his neck. “What’s this about? Did I do it wrong?” 

“No,” Daichi answers, sniffling and rubbing at his eyes, “I don’t feel good, and I’m tired, and everything hurts, and I just. Love you so much.” He knows he’s being pathetic, but that’s ok, because he can be pathetic in front of Koushi. 

“Awww,” Koushi says and his hand trails down to Daichi’s shoulder so his arm is wrapped around him in the best semblance of a hug he can create, “I know, Dai. I love you, too. I hate that you feel so shitty… maybe eating will help?” 

Daichi nods, knowing that Koushi is right. He needs calories to fight this infection or flu or whatever it is, so he picks up the spaghetti melt that his husband made him and takes a bite. 

“And? Is it every bit of greasy garbage comfort food deliciousness that you dreamed of?” Koushi asks, grinning. 

“And more,” Daichi says around the bite in his mouth. He swallows, grimacing. Toasted bread and chips didn’t go down well with a sore throat, but it was what he wanted and that’s what water was for, anyway. “It’s perfect. The cilantro is a nice touch.”

[gessshoku]

Chef Boyardee coming to save the day

[obstinaterixatrix]

I think I take psychic damage from tomatoes now

[fruitteay]

Dinner from my live

[freebooter4ever]

.

[wall-e-gorl]

If I were to make a rec post of podcasts to listen to based on arcs of uc would that be interesting or just a waste of brain juice

[braveryinblue]

Undaunted by his height, Marianne raised herself on her tip toes and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. She grabbed his hand and squeezed as she felt herself wobble, a flower blooming around her finger. "For um... A few weeks back..." She said softly, her face flushing pink.

"Oh, Marianne, I was looking for y-"

Oh.

'A few weeks back' ? ... Huh?

Oh...!

"Hey, wait-" this time, it's him who takes up her hand,

and there lay a light kiss on its back. (That's how the gentlemen do it... right? Who knows. Despite his very best efforts, etiquette classes remain mind-numbingly boring.)

"Are you hungry? I hear the spaghetti's to die for."

[giri-giri-waifu]

I would kill for a big plate of pasta rn

[yummies-tummy-food-blog]