#and then added some chicken so it would be an actual meal

[texas-gothic]

Dracula Daily Prep: Gather Your Paprikash!

It's that time of year again. Even as we speak, Jonathan Harker has departed for Transylvania, and the unhallowed halls of Castle Dracula. And as he makes his way towards that foreboding country, he will encounter a singular, most enticing of dishes: Paprika Hendl, or as we might know it better, Chicken Paprikash!

This traditional Central European dish explodes in popularity each May as we all gather around our virtual mess hall to enjoy the spirit of this most influential of gothic novels. Perhaps you yourself are considering throwing together a pot this year? Well, if you are, let this be your guide.

So, first, let's discuss the most important of the ingredients here: authentic hungarian paprika. Now, the recipe I first used last year called only for Sweet Paprika, but I personally found that version to be a little bland. I'm remedying this by adding some Hot Paprika as well. However, this is just my personal experimentation. Hungarian Hot Paprika can in fact be very hot, so if you're not comfortable with anything too spicy, feel free to opt only for the Sweet Paprika.

(Both of these I had to order online.)

Next, is another very important addition. As youre gathering your basic cornerstones of cooking (namely yellow onion, roma tomato, and garlic for this recipe) you may find yourself passing up on something that could vastly improve your dish. I'm talking, of course, about Hungarian Wax Peppers. These peppers range in heat, from meak and mild to slightly hotter than you'd average jalapeño. As per instruction, you should only use one. But on my end, I found the single pepper to be a little underwhelming, and I had trouble picking out it's flavor. So, this year, I'll be using two of them.

I got these from Central Market, an upmarket gorcer on Westheimer. They're a cousin of HEB, and you can find one or two in every major city in Texas. If you're elsewhere, try an alternative like Whole Foods, or try to find a European or International food market in your area.

Next, let's talk chicken. You can't have Chicken Paprkiash without the chicken, after all.

You're going to want to go with dark meat cuts for this. Traditionally the dish would use a mix of legs and thighs. Personally, I suggest using only the thighs, which you'll want to get bone-in and skin-on. The thigh provides a flater surface for browning than the leg, as well as more meat.

(A note on food safety, raw chicken will usually only last 2-3 days in the fridge. So you'll want to grab that fairly close to the day you're actually cooking this. If not, you can do what I'll be doing, and sticking it in the freezer until about 24 hours before I start cooking.)

So, as you gather your meat, produce, and spice you're probably asking yourself, "what on Earth am I going to be eating this with?" And the answer to that is spaetzle! A popular dumpling present in lots of Central European cooking, this is exactly what you need to tie this all together.

Now, while you should be able to find some in the international isle of most major grocers, you might also have to visit an international food store, or perhaps something more upmarket. If none of these options work, then there are a variety of other side dishes that work just as well. Egg noodles are a very popular choice, and in my very American attempt last year, I found that mashed potatoes work especially well.

Now that you've got all these things together, you're very nearly done. All that's left is the thickener. Paprikash is thickened using a blend of flour, heavy whipping cream, and sour cream. We'll get onto preparing this mixture in my post on actually cooking the paprikash, but until then, acquiring them should be a cake walk at any place food items are sold.

Now that will conclude the actual grocery list for just the Paprikash itself, but I do have one more pointer on how to really liven up this meal. Now, if you're under 21 or if perhaps you take after our dear, depraved, beloathed Count

Then you can skip this next bit. As a wine professional myself, I find that a well paired glass can add a tremendous flare to nearly any already great dinner. In the case of something like Chicken Paprkiash, and keeping with the Central European theme, I could hardly think of a better match than a good German Pinot Noir, also known as a Spatburgunder. Pinot from Germany typically has a very light body and a refreshing acidity that plays very well with the rich and creamy sauce of Chicken Paprikash. The palate of earth and red fruit should always pair nicely with the smoke of the paprika, as well as being a general good partner for any chicken. I myself am going with this 2020 Rheingau from August Kesseler.

And with that, we are done! Hit those checkout isles and make sure to get home before dark. Terrible things have sway over the world once the sun has gone down. So if the crowd does keep you locked up until nightfall, make sure to graciously accept any crucifixes given to you by kindly, elderly grandmothers and inn keepers. But whatever you do, make sure to pop in on Friday, when I'll be sharing a step by step guide on taking these ingredients and turning them into a dinner that will make our good friend Jonathan go red as a fire truck!

Happy Dracula Week everybody!

[owliellder]

Two's A Crowd

College Bully! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5)

Description: College is proving to be a lot harder than you imagined. You cannot fail this math class. So when you've tried everything else, a well-known student is recommended to you by your professor for tutoring lessons, not really leaving you with much of a choice but to work with him.

Warnings: Not proofread, No Use of Y/N, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Bullying, Yelling, Cursing

Tags: College AU, Bully! Leon, Shy! Reader, both are in their early 20's, Leon is Rude AF in the beginning, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Fingering, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags to be Added

Author's Note: Yay!! New multi-chapter fic in honor of 800 followers!!

I'm a sucker for tropes and mean Leon is one I can't keep out of my head. If you're not good at math then this is the fic for you! (also don't mind me slipping some Sky lore in here...)

Cross-posted onto AO3

Chapter 1

Growing up, college had always been a big dream of yours, leaving you fantasizing day in and out about all the possibilities that would open up, along with actually getting to live through the renowned “college experience”.

In reality, college was a lot harder than you were expecting. Your parents had told you to jump right into it after high school, fearing taking a gap year would ruin your good streak. The stress was starting to get to you and it was only a semester into your freshman year. All the tests, projects, and general studying really wore down on your mental health, not to mention you were failing the one math class you had.

You couldn’t tell your parents, no, they’d probably have a heart attack, especially since that math class was a prerequisite to another class that you needed to take. They were already worried enough that you hadn’t picked a major yet, so who knows how they’d take the news that you were failing right off the bat.

It was hard enough that you were feeling homesick. This was the first time you’d ever been this far away from home, studying at a university when you would’ve been perfectly content going to a community college closer to home. Your roommate was nice, but the two of you weren’t growing any closer than mere acquaintances, so it always felt awkward to just exist in your own dorm room.

Your eating habits worsened with the lack of any real food within five miles of campus. Sure there were a couple fast food chains on the campus itself, but they closed incredibly early. By the time you finished studying, which was around six in the evening, it had already closed. Not to mention that when they were open, the lines were comically long. University food was out of the question after you got violently ill from their “chicken nuggets”, so you were left with the little money your parents provided once a week to order takeout or make quick trips to the store to buy a frozen meal. Only one, since the mini fridge in your dorm was almost always occupied by your roommates stuff.

Everything was so exhausting and you were way out of your comfort zone having to use the community bathrooms for all your hygienic routines. Walking in always made you feel like you were interrupting a meeting in the president’s oval office with how many nasty looks you were given when all you were trying to do was brush your teeth.

The first thing you saw whenever you opened up Canvas was a massive F staring you down from the little box that comprised the majority of your math assignments and tests, making you feel less than worthless. This one semester alone helped you understand why so many people dropped out, this was hard.

By now you’d already gone to your math professor multiple times asking for redos or extra credit work. He was probably sick of seeing you since you showed up after almost every single assignment’s grades were submitted.

“Heeeyyy, Mr. Lebovic..” You said after knocking your knuckle against his open door to grab his attention. “Listen, about that last quiz, I-”

He cut you off with a wave of his hand before gesturing towards one of the chairs sitting in front of his desk. You hurried to sit down, watching nervously as he slowly pulled his eyes off his computer and onto you. “I get it, you don’t need to explain yourself.” His relaxed tone and faint smile was enough to ease your nerves a bit, letting your shoulders slump with a sigh. “You’ve been trying really hard, I can easily recognize that.”

You nodded eagerly, licking your dry lips as you opened your mouth to speak, only to be cut off again. “I’ve been looking into studying options that might help you. Resources are scarce for this material, but I think I finally have a tutor to help you out.” 

A wave of relief washed over you at the mention of tutor. Maybe you wouldn’t have to face the wrath of your parent’s disappointment after all! “Oh.. o-okay…” you stuttered, eyebrows furrowing as you silently beckoned him to continue.

“I teach another math class, it’s higher level, but I have a student in there that’s just taken up tutoring the material you’re learning.” Your professor seemed just as happy as you were about the opportunity. “His name is Leon Kennedy, he’s got one of the study rooms in the library from three to five in the afternoon on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.”

It took you a second to process everything Mr. Lebovic was telling you before you scrambled to pull out a sticky note and a pen to write all the information down on. You heard the older man chuckle softly, looking over at him when he held out a small piece of paper to you. “I wrote it down already for you, don’t worry.” You wished you could’ve thanked him tenfold, but his office hours were closed for the day now, so you said a quick goodbye and hurried back to your dorm, holding onto the piece of paper like a lifeline.

Contrary to what your math professor thinks, you knew the name “Leon Kennedy”. You had a couple friends that you hung out with occasionally out in the grass in front of the science building and they’d brought him up before. The few vague bits of info that you’d heard weren’t flattering, painting this Leon in quite a bad light; the stereotypical jock in a frat flying by on a full-ride scholarship. However, he was your saving grace now and you needed to develop more of an unbiased opinion of him if he was going to help you raise your grade from an F.

“Yeesh, sorry I’m not better at math or I would’ve helped you.” One of your friends, Sky, spoke up as they read the piece of paper your professor gave you yesterday from over your shoulder. “Even if you were better at math, I still wouldn’t trust you.” Ella, your other friend, laughed out.

“Ha ha, yeah, Sky failed math four times. Big whoop.” Sky waved their hands dramatically before walking over to sit down next to Ella in the dead grass. “Seriously though, you’re better off taking a failing grade and dealing with your parents. Kennedy is the devil incarnate.”

“The devil incarnate sounds easier to put up with than my parents, so I’ll take my chances..” You grumbled, taking a seat on a medium-sized rock close to the pair. “Maybe he’s turning a new leaf? Deciding to tutor?” 

Sky crossed her arms and rolled her eyes which made Ella elbow them in the side before giving you a sympathetic smile. “Maybe so, but please just be careful. I don’t want you having to put up with some jackass that has an ego bigger than Texas.” 

You nodded with a slight frown, moving your foot side to side lazily to push the grass blades around. You didn’t even think to consider the repercussions of studying with some random junior. “I’m sure it’ll be alright. Besides, just tell Sky and I if he’s giving you any trouble. I know damn well no man likes to put up with two women yelling in his face.” Sky nodded and pointed to Ella for added dramatics. “Yeah, and I bite. My top six teeth are porcelain so that shit hurts. Trust me.”

Your friends never failed to make you laugh, a slight resolve in a pool full of worries, you suppose. “Don’t worry, you guys’ll be the first to know if Leon is mean.”

“Good. Now, when’re you gonna go see the guy?” Sky rested their arms on their knees before looking up at you. “Uh.. in a couple hours I guess. I already made the appointment.” Your response seemed to surprise both of your friends, giving them a confused look in response to their shocked ones. “Is that.. Is that not a good time?”

“No no, just.. I thought you would’ve maybe taken a little longer to go and see him.” Ella shrugged, reaching a hand up to scratch behind their neck. “Proud of you, taking the initiative like that.” She then looked at her phone before pulling herself off the ground with a small groan. “I got class in a couple minutes. Good luck with the frat boy.” 

She patted your shoulder as she walked off towards the larger building on campus, leaving you and Sky alone for the rest of the time. Part of you wished both of your friends could walk you to the library when the time came, but having Sky was enough. “So.. Leon’s bad bad?” You needed a bit more clarification on the guy you were going to spend one-on-one time with, something to calm you down after running through countless scenarios in your head.

“He’s not all bad, 'least I don't think. I’ve exchanged a few ‘hello’s’ and ‘excuse me’s’ with him here and there since we apparently frequent the same building.” Sky scooted over to the rock you were sitting on, placing the back of their head on your legs. A couple brown leaves blew over from a nearby tree which they grabbed and crunched with their hand. “I haven’t personally experienced any bad happenings around him, but he is part of a pretty notoriously rowdy frat, so you have to promise me that you’ll only study with him on campus and never go to that frat house or any frat house in general, alright?”

Sky pointed up at you, poking the underside of your chin which made you laugh again and swat their hand away. “As much as I rave about wanting to have the stereotypical college experience, going to a frat house was never part of my daydreaming.”

“Good. Keep it that way.” They switched their fingers to give you a quick thumbs up before letting their arm flop down into their lap, eyes closing with a sigh. “Anyways, besides all that, wanna go get some food? I don’t have another class today and you’ve got about an hour and a half to spare, so actually you have no choice. Get up.”

You stood up with a shake of your head once Sky pushed off of your legs who stood up as well with a small stretch. “Don’t burn me at the stake, but I kinda want grocery store sushi. I’m feeling lucky.”

“Please don’t.” You sighed, pocketing the piece of paper before beginning to follow behind Sky as they started to walk across the grass. 

After the two of you shared a sandwich from some random shop not too far off campus, Sky walked with you up to the library, stopping just before the front desk. They agreed to not wander in with you under the condition that you’ll go to their dorm straight after to discuss details.

To say you were nervous was an understatement. Most of what you heard about this guy meant he was bad news, though you really didn’t have much of a choice when it came to seeing him. Like your math professor said, there weren’t a lot of options when it came to studying the material you were learning. Sure you had the internet and other students in the class, but you preferred the idea of a tutor since you’d already exhausted yourself trying to follow along with various youtube videos. You needed the in-person teaching, it just stuck better in your head that way.

Slowly starting to walk, you made your way over to the study rooms lining the back of the library. The rooms seemed pretty private with the only window being on the door, which had glass nearly top to bottom. Thankfully the rooms were numbered and Leon had texted you which room to go to when you made the appointment with him, you had no idea what he looked like and you didn’t want to look like a creep eyeballing people through the door until you hopefully found the right person.

Standing off to the side, you could see the number you were looking for sitting above the door, taking a brief moment to collect yourself and hype yourself up to talk to someone who didn’t have the greatest reputation. Set aside everything you’ve heard and just hope for the best..

You took in a deep breath as you strode over to the door, glancing inside through the window before knocking to let him know you were there. The table was angled off more to the left so you didn’t immediately see him until he leaned over the table to see who had knocked. Confidence left you as soon as you made eye contact with Leon due to the groan you could hear through the door. It took you a couple seconds, but you eventually managed to get your body to work with you, hand turning the handle to let yourself in.

“-the last thing I need..” You caught the end of his little rant to himself as you opened the door. The saying “fake it ‘till you make it” is harder than it sounds since your entire body decided to betray you, deciding that shrinking in was the best move. Quietly, you shuffled over to sit across from him at the table, placing your backpack in your lap in some weird way to provide comfort in this situation.

“You weren’t supposed to show up.” Leon grumbled, sitting far back in the tilted chair as his feet lifted the front end of the chair slightly. His arms were crossed and he was giving you probably the nastiest look you’ve ever seen, next to your parents, of course. All you did was sit there giving him a blank stare. It was obvious what he’d said, yet the sheer forwardness of that snide comment had you more than confused. “What?-”

“You weren’t supposed to show up.” Apparently he felt the need to repeat himself with some added bite, barely letting you get a word in. “No one ever shows up to these shitty tutor- whatever the fucks.”

Wow. Okay. “Uh..” You didn’t even know what to say to that. It completely caught you off guard. You’d run through countless ways this interaction would go in your head, but this wasn’t one of those ways. The two of you sat in a very tense silence with Leon just glaring at you from across the table, continuing to rock back and forth in the chair.

Without uncrossing his arms, Leon lifted a hand and waved it around slightly while shaking his head. “Are you actually still gonna sit here orrr…?” The sound of his voice finally snapped you out of shock, causing you to shoot your gaze down to your backpack, fumbling with its partially broken zipper. “I-.. Mr. Lebovic recommended you..?”

You pulled out a few of your failed assignments from your bag before setting them down on the table with shaky hands, keeping your eyes glued to the papers to avoid that burning stare the man in front of you has. “I need-.. I need help..?”

“Do you?” Leon let the chair fall forward, his sarcastic tone starting to make your whole body tremble. “You don’t sound like you do.” He snatched one of your assignments from the table and held it up, pursing his lips as he studied the various red marks made on it closely. You chose to not respond to that, letting your hands rest on top of your backpack so you had something to squeeze.

He turned the page around, the sound of the paper wobbling the only thing you could hear right after the sound of the central heat blowing through the vent in the room. Suddenly, Leon started chuckling to himself, shaking his head incredulously as he flipped the paper back and forth a couple times before letting it fall back to the table. “This is terrible!” His laugh grew louder as he tilted his body to the side to pull out his phone, taking a picture of the assignments you’d put on the table. 

How on earth were you supposed to react to that other than just sitting quietly? He was actually making fun of you right to your face. Hell, he might as well point and laugh if he’s going to be this brasen. 

The most you could muster up was a quiet yet high-pitched “... huh?” in response to him. This whole ordeal was spiraling a little too fast for you to keep up with. You were expecting to put up with some grown man with a bratty attitude or even just a very uninterested, not all there jock with how Leon’s been described to you, not blatant bullying.

“Huh?” He mocked, taking one last look at his phone while loudly sucking on his teeth before pocketing it again. “Anyways, this is actually sad. How are you managing to fuck simple math up like this?” He roughly grabbed all the papers on the table and stacked them before partially tossing them back at you, some slipping onto the floor. “You’re too far gone, even I can’t fix that.”

You let out a gasp when the papers were tossed at your face, scrambling to catch some of them. Pushing the chair back, you leaned over to grab the few that fell on the floor, desperately holding back tears. “Please, you don’t understand.” You pleaded, voice cracking as you tried your best not to start crying in front of him. “I-I need to pass this class. I’m passing everything else, I just can’t keep up with this one!” You were speed-talking to try and argue your case, sitting back up with the small pile of papers that you struggled to stack properly.

Leon started rocking back in his chair again, arms back across his chest as he watched you with squinted eyes. The corners of his lips soon turned up into a smirk, taking in your sorry state before rolling his eyes with a dramatic groan. “Alright, alright, stop whining, jesus..” He cleared his throat, letting his head fall over the back of the chair. “I’ll help you only because I feel bad for you.” It’s not like he was going to admit that he was being forced to be a tutor, no one needs leverage over him like that

You couldn’t help but give a small smile despite his implication. It was a start. “And I’m not gonna do it today, either.” Well, the sooner the better, but still, it’s a start.

He then stood up from the chair, fixing his jacket with a sigh. “If you show up even a minute late on Friday, I’m not helping” and before you even had a chance to reply, he walked out of the room, the door shutting with a slam which made you flinch. Luckily, you were a very punctual person when it came to this kind of stuff. This was important, so if you had to show up early, so be it. You hurriedly shoved your assignments back into your backpack, not even fully zipping it up before rushing out of the study room, back through the library, and to the dorms.

“He said that?!” Sky yelled, quickly wiping their hand over their mouth to quiet themself once you shushed them. “I don’t really feel comfortable with you going to another ‘study session’ with that guy if he’s just gonna bully you.”

“I wouldn’t call it bullying-”

“He was bullying you.”

“OKAY! So what if he was?!” You fell back onto Sky’s bed with a sigh, arms splayed out with your legs dangling off the side. “I can handle it. As long as I get my grade up, who cares?”

Sky sat down next to you on their bed, giving you a sad look as you sat yourself up with your elbows. “I care. So does Ella. You shouldn’t put up with that just for a grade. I’m sure if you explain to your professor and-”

“And what? Tell him that I’m a grown woman getting bullied over something I should know by now?” You sat yourself up fully now, leaning forward to place your elbows on your thighs as your head rested in your hands. “It’s only until finals are over and we’re already halfway through October. Maybe I won’t even need that much time, maybe I’m just missing one simple… math move and it’ll get the gears in my brain moving again.”

You tilted your head to the side to look at Sky, head now resting only in your right hand as you took in their annoyed look. “Trust me. I can handle this.”

“If you say so.” They ran their fingers through her hair before looking away from you, directing their attention forward to stare off at nothing. “Just remember that I bite and I’m not afraid to use my fake chompers on that no good-”

“I don’t wanna think about escalations right now, but thank you.” You chuckled, playfully nudging Sky with your free hand before moving it back to hold your head up with the other. Though you were trying to convince Sky on this, you were mostly just trying to convince yourself that you could handle this. Handle Leon and his.. alluring charm..

Only until finals, maybe even sooner.

[sweets3rial]

friday, i'm in love

inspired by the request

di!leon x gn!reader

summary: your favorite agent surprises you with a very unexpected home coming.

tags: domestic fluff, no smut, sexual innuendos, reader is a good cook, reader uses pimple cream, mentions of a future family (give leon his family pls), leon is a horny freak, the song 'Friday, I'm in Love' by The Cure

word count: 1.2k

bass and drums echoed off the walls of your kitchen, the rhythmic lyrics and uplifting guitar put an instant smile onto your face as you jumped around with a spatula in your hand. you shouted out the lyrics, singing with your heart's content.

occasionally going back to flip the chicken breast, tender and juicy on the inside with a nice crunchy crust on the outside. today was one of those days when you were finally able to muster up the energy to cook a homemade meal.

both you and your boyfriend's favorite, chicken alfredo. a staple in your household and one you’re especially good at. you enjoyed being in the kitchen, you didn’t mind it actually. cooking was one of your hobbies and some people say you were just naturally born to cook … and well dance.

jumping around in circles, in your pajamas, with the smell of chicken and pasta in the air.

your lovely boyfriend was away on a mission, risking his life for the world and you couldn’t be more prouder. but you also couldn’t be more worried. every night that he was not in your bed only added to your anxiety.

you were always in a slum when he was away. dragging yourself around the house and cuddling into his pillow that smelt of his shampoo. though, this morning after receiving a prompt text that he was to be back tomorrow, you were instantly pulled back into a better mood.

he was as well. he didn’t expect to finish so early, the nurses cleared him and his reports were done. he was going to be going home to the love of his life. the whole drive home, he was occupied with the thought of what you were going to be doing.

you always had a surprise up your sleeve for him.

will you be sleeping? or would you be on the couch watching your favorite show? would you be out? would you be home? (most likely) would you be in bed waiting for him? with that gorgeous lace set he bought you the other week.

goosebumps ran down his spine at the thought of you waiting in bed for him. if so, his clothes would disappear from his body in a blink.

as he pulled up into your shared condo, he could hear the faint sound of music. was it from someone's radio? upon getting closer to the condo, he realized, it was probably you.

the song, ‘Friday I’m in Love’ by The Cure played on your speaker, the one he got you for Christmas. he smiled to himself, and he could practically hear you singing wailing at the top of your lungs.

you were so occupied, that you didn’t hear the jangle of keys coming from the other side of the front door. so occupied in singing at the top of your lungs rather than paying attention to everything around you, including your cooking.

as you were taking out the chicken breast and cutting it into slices. so-called lovely boyfriend walked into the house, shouting out, “babe?” he was sure you couldn’t hear him, given the fact that he could hear the bass and faint lyrics coming from outside of your condo.

he peeked inside, following the sound of music and your voice into the kitchen — along with the smell of salty and garlicky goodness. he smiled, slowly creeping into his own house.

his heart was beating with anticipation and he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. once he rounded the corner and into the kitchen, he was welcomed with the view of you rocking your head back and forth, whilst cutting up food.

your back was turned to him and you were singing at the top of your lungs. his little bird, always singing. whether it was in the shower, or the kitchen, or the yard. music was your second most favorite thing after him.

he leaned onto the counter behind you, admiring the way you just existed.

hair messy and frizzy, fuzzy socks on, detailed pajama bottoms, just you. being home and doing your own thing. he loved it.

he loved coming home to you. it didn’t matter if you were awake or sleeping. mad or sad. he just loved coming home to you, to be around your beauty and your grace. even in your three-day-old pajamas with a few dabs of pimple cream on your cheeks and forehead.

slowly, he stalked behind you. opening up his arms widely, before clamping them shut around you.

first, you felt someone grab you. they muscular arms with a tight but gentle grip, holding your wrists and hugging your arms to your sides.

then, it was a loud shout of the words. “it’s Friday! i’m in love!”

you shouted out, jumping about a whole foot off the ground. your reaction earned you a throaty laugh from your captor, or in other words your boyfriend.

you were quick to recognize his laugh, whipping around with knife still in hand, you were met his his wide grinning face and head of brown hair.

“you asshole!” you shouted over your music, slapping him with your free hand while the other placed your knife down. his hands found the purchase of your hips, pulling you closer to him and nuzzling his nose against yours.

you jumped up to wrap your arms around his neck, practically knocking him over, “when’d you land? i thought you were going to be away for another day!”

you pulled away, looking him in the face and instantly checking for any injuries. thankfully, there were none.

“i landed early,” he took a small pause, taking in the look of your wide eyes and your fluttering lashes.

“you didn’t hear me come in, sweets?” he asked, cupping your cheek.

you shoved him away, “no, i could’ve stabbed you.”

“which is why i held you down.”

“i know! but don’t do that!” you whined, tempted to hit him again.

he couldn’t help but smile wider, leaning down and placing a long and deep kiss over your lips. god, he loved coming home to this. coming home to you. he couldn’t wait for the day you’d make him a father. the day he’d not only come home to one, but to two.

a little mini you or mini him, running around the house, babbling out incoherent words. he’s had dreams, the little baby would have his eyes and your hair. your nose and your cheeks. he’d have a whole nursery set up just for them.

boy or girl, it didn’t matter to him. as long as he was blessed with the title of being their father and being your husband.

one day, he said to himself. one day.

he pulled away, placing another kiss on your nose.

“you look so beautiful, y’know that?”

“stop, i have my acne cream on,” you said with a crinkle of your nose.

“but it’s lovely,” he hummed, tickling at your sides.

you elbowed him away, still annoyed at the fact he scared you, but also happy that he was home. you missed him, you always do.

“i’m making your favorite,” you told him, turning around. he instantly caught you again, wrapping his heavy arms around you and leaning his body weight onto you.

his head sunk into your shoulder, taking a deep breath of your softener along with the scent of butter and seasoning. he sighed out into you, his hot breath seeping through your sweater and onto your skin.

“what do you want for dessert, hm?” you asked, turning your head to face him.

you watched a smirk slowly spread over his cheeks.

“you.”

“god, i can’t catch a break.”

(divider creds to @saradika ,, photos off of pinterest)

[alexanderwales]

Alright, here's my dream Stardew Valley style game, designed for my own tastes.

You come to a small town with the usual twenty to thirty people. It's in the middle of nowhere. It's a fantasy town, and no one actually farms anymore, partly because it's only questionably profitable, partly because a lot of the knowledge has been lost. Instead, everyone uses these magic doodads which are very powerful but also very limited. The tavernkeeper has a doodad that makes him a single kind of weak ale and a single variety of off-tasting wine. The clothier has basically a square mile of linen to work with, and everyone wears her drab clothes. Tools are made from a doodad that the blacksmith owns, not even made of any actual metal, just a material that wears away after a month and needs to be replaced by a new copy from the blacksmith's doodad. People get their meals from the doodads. They get their medical checkups. It's all a bit shit.

Because I'm a worldbuilder at heart, I would have this all exist in the wake of a large-scale war that depleted the town of its fighting-age population, with the doodads being a sort of government program to ensure that more of the lifeblood of the town could be drained away. And for there to be some reason for the town to continue existing, perhaps the government is harvesting some resources necessary in the creation of doodads. That's enough for a pro-doodad faction and maybe some minor drama with them, though I do like the idea that the only reason things are Like This is because there was a war and things got bad. It's not necessarily a bleak town, but there's definitely a listlessness to it, a "what's the point".

So you're a farmer, but no one is really a farmer anymore. Maybe there are a few books, but you don't learn farming from books, you learn it from practical experience; that's a lot of what this game is about. When you start, there's no one to buy seeds from, there's just a bunch of wilderness where farms once stood, now all long overgrown.

So you go out and forage, for a start, and you clear the land, and you pay attention to the plants and how they can be used, and you start in on making recipes with them, maybe with the help of your grandfather's old, partially incomplete books. You find some wild corn that's a descendant of the old times. You find some tomato seeds in an urn. You discover potatoes because you see them dug up by a wild boar, which itself was once a domesticated animal.

In my ideal game, you need to pay attention to the soil quality, to how far apart things are planted, to what crops work well together. Farming is a matter of companion planting and polycultures. You get some chickens by giving them consistent feed, and you keep them around because they're natural pest control. Your climbing beans climb the stalks of your maize. You're attracting pollinators. (From a gameplay perspective, yeah, we probably put this all into a grid, and you have crop bonuses from adjacencies, and emergent gameplay that comes from all that, some plants providing shade, others providing nitrogen fixing.) You're a scientist making observations about the plants, maybe with your incomplete book giving you confirmation on the nature of all your crops once you hit certain production goals or a perfect specimen or whatever.

Cooking is the same. There has got to be a system that I like better than just "combine tomato with bread to get tomato bread". I'm pretty sure that it's some variant of the actual process I use when cooking, which is making sure that things are properly cooked, balancing flavors against each other, adding in a little salt or acidity or umami or whatever. Time in the kitchen, in this game, is often about making meals, ensuring that if you have a fatty piece of meat you have some asparagus that's coated with lemon to go with it. (From a gameplay perspective, I think building the dish once is probably sufficient and it can be automated after that, and building the meal is the same. I don't want to play this minigame every time I'm cooking a dish, I just want to play it a single time until I have good knowledge of the best way to grill a BBQ chicken breast with a homemade sauce.)

But if we're having a little minigame here where we pay attention to how long we're cooking the kale to make sure that it's the right texture, and we're paying attention to abstractified mouthfeel and palette, then we can get something else for free: variation. See, you're not just cooking to get an S grade, you're cooking for people with different tastes. The cobbler has a sweet tooth, the librarian loves fruity things, the mayor cannot stand fish, that sort of thing. From a gameplay perspective, maybe we represent this with a radar graph with some specific favorite and least favorite individual flavors, and maybe it's visible to the player, but the important thing is that player gets feedback and have a reason to strive for both "good" and "perfection" and some of this is going to depend on the quality of the ingredients.

And this is, gradually, how the town is brought back into the fullness of life. You're not just cooking for these people, you're also selling them food, and they're making their own recipes, and all the stuff that's not food is making their businesses not suck anymore. After the first test keg of ale goes swimmingly, the tavernkeeper wants more, a lot more, and puts in an order for hops, wheat, grapes, anything he can use to make things that will improve nights at the tavern. The clothier will skeptically take in wool and spin her own yarn, and then eagerly want more, because how awesome is it to have a new textile? There's a chemist who is extremely interested in dyes and paints, and wants you to bring him all kinds of things to see what might be viable for going beyond the ~3 colors that the doodads can provide.

So by year two, if you're doing things right, you're the lynchpin of the revivalist movement. People are now moving to the town, for the first time in decades, because they hear that you're there and doing interesting things with the wilderness. Maybe there are other farmers following in your wake, but maybe it's just new characters who are specifically coming because a crate of wine was shipped to the capital city. Maybe some of them bring new techniques for you, or a handful of plants from a botanical garden, and there are new elements for the minigames, or maybe some automation for the stuff that's old hat.

I think something that's important to me is that there's a reason for the crops you plant and the things you do. I always like these games best when it feels like I'm doing something for someone, when I can look at a plot of cabbages and think "ah, those are the cabbages I owe to Leon". Where these games are at their worst, everything is entirely fungible and I've planted eight million blueberries because they have the highest ROI.

And yeah, in most of these games, there are other minigames like fishing and mining and logging and crafting, and since this is just a blog post and not a game, I definitely could massively expand an already sizeable scope.

I think for mining the player would use doodads of their own, and maybe you could make a mining minigame out of that, using the same planting tile system to instead create an automated ore harvesting machine that plumbs the depths of the earth (possibly dealing with rocks of different hardness, the water table, and other challenges along the way).

Fishing is a question of understanding the different fish species, what they eat, where they congregate, and then setting nets or lines, since I have never met a fishing minigame I really enjoyed. Again, there's some idea that the player is gaining information over time, building up a profile of these fish, noticing that some of them go nuts when it rains, understanding the spawning season, that they go to deeper water when it's cold, etc.

Crafting really depends on what you're crafting, but if you're reintroducing traditional artisan processes to this town, then people are going to need tools and machines and things. I'm not sure I know what a proper crafting game looks like. The only experience I have to draw on is wood shop, where I made wooden boxes, cutting boards, and picture frames. Since this is an engineering-lite puzzle-lite game, you could maybe do something in that vein, e.g. defining a number of steps that get you the correct thing you're trying to make, but ... eh. I love the idea of designing a chicken coop, for example, or building a trellis if I want my climbing beans to not need maize, or whatever, but I don't know how you actually implement that. There are definitely voxel-based and snap-to-grid games where you build bases, and I tend to find that fun ... but it's mostly cosmetic, for the obvious reason that doing it any other way than cosmetic requires programmatic evaluation, which is difficult and maybe unintuitive. The closest I think I've seen is ... maybe Tears of the Kingdom? Contraption building? But I don't know how you translate that to a farming game. Maybe I should ask my wife about this, because she's always doing little projects around the house (an outdoor enclosure for our cats, a 3D-printed holder for our living room keyboard, a mounting for our TV).

Making an interesting crafting system is difficult, which is why pretty much no one has done it.

And if I'm talking pie in the sky, without concern for budget or scope, I want the villagers to all have a mammoth amount of writing for them. I want petty little dramas and weird obsessions, lives that evolve with or without my input, rudimentary dialog trees that let me nudge things in different directions. This is just an unbelievable amount of work on its own, it would be crazy, but I would love having a tiny little town game where sometimes other people would fall in love. I would like to be invited to a wedding, maybe one that happened because I encouraged the chemist to hang out with the clothier, and in the course of working together on dyes, they fell in love. With twenty people in town and another ten that come in over the course of the game if you hit the right triggers, I do think this is just a matter of having a ton of time/budget. You write tons and tons of dialogue so there's not much that's repeated, you have some lines of conversation between characters that are progressed through, you have others that trigger off of events, and then you have personal relationships between NPCs that can be progressed through time or with player intervention. Give single characters a pool of love interests, have their affections depend on their routine which depends on what's changed in town ... very difficult to do without spending loads and loads of time on it though.

Anyway, that's one of my dream games. No one is ever going to make it, it would be a niche of a niche, and as scoped here, is too much for a small team to ever actually finish, let alone polish. But it's the sort of thing I'm imagining in my head when I think about playing Stardew Valley and its successors.

[dilf-din]

To be Known (To be Loved)

Frank Castle x f!reader

WC: 2500

Warnings: mentions of blood/gun violence, so much fluff & domestic bliss

Author’s note: so what if I want him to settle down and have a soft life and dote on his girl, don’t worry about it!!

It’s not that you were clumsy or lacked focus. That was the opposite of true. Nobody had an eye for detail like you. That’s what landed you your job as a crime scene analyst. The FBI even contracted you out from time to time when they did jobs in the city. They did today, actually. And though you had been doing this for years, sometimes it still made your stomach churn. And traffic was a bitch coming home, and you forgot to take the ground beef out of the freezer so you were trying to scrape some kind of meal together, chopping what was left of an onion with a too dull knife, and your hand slipped.

It wasn’t too deep, just a perfect slice into the tip of your pointer finger. It stung in the cold stream of the sink you were quick to plunge it under, your eyes already watering from the bruised onion you had been attempting to dice.

Not a big deal, just slap a bandage on it and remember to ask Frank to bring his kit to sharpen your knife set this weekend.

You sniffled and got back to work, sautéing scraps of leftover chicken with some fresh veggies, adding lemon and white wine and garlic and herbs. The air filled with aromatics and the sound of your 80’s playlist.

The tension that spent it days lodged between your shoulder blades was starting to wear away. All you needed to completely feel at peace was the sound of the key in the lock and boots down the hall.

Frank was a lot of things. Dangerous and safe, rough and gentle, commanding and kind. And he was always on time for dinner. Whether he limped to the door dripping blood or showed up early with a bottle of wine and flowers, he was dependable above all.

You didn’t even have to glance at the clock to know he would be there soon. You could feel it in your cells, like the waiting would be soon over.

AC/DC’s fast guitars faded into REO Speedwagon’s Can’t Fight This Feeling, and you found yourself humming along to the ballad. The opening and closing of drawers and the sizzled of the pans drowned out the quiet thump of boots against wood while Frank paused for a second to admire you, a love drunk smile plastered on his face.

He set a paper bag down on the island behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing warm kisses to your cheek, rough stubble scratching your smooth skin. You relaxed into his embrace, eyes drifting shut for a moment as you leaned against his strong chest and inhaled deeply the lingering smell of pine from his shower this morning.

“How’s my baby girl doin’?” Frank hummed into your neck, pressing a trail of kisses to the exposed skin he could get to with the collar of your shirt in the way.

“Got in a fight today,” you sighed dramatically, holding you hand up so he could see your finger wrapped delicately.

“Baby,” he lamented with equal drama, drawing your hand to his mouth to lavish in kisses.

“I’ll kill the guy,” he said sincerely, baby browns boring into yours, holding your hand to his cheek with a tender grip around your wrist.

“He’s in the sink,” you gestured over your shoulder, “If you can remember to sharpen him and his friends this weekend.”

“Course baby doll. Smells good in here,” he peeked over your shoulder at the pans simmering on the stove, “I brought dessert. Cannolis from Tony’s,”

“You’re too good to me,” you clasped your hands over your heart.

It was Friday, which meant Frank was home for the weekend.

His boots by your bed. His body next to yours. Breakfast together and movies on the couch and unlimited snuggles.

“You look tense, everything okay?” he queried as he brought his broad hands up to work out the knots in your shoulders.

“Just a long week,” you shook your head, “All I want is to take a long shower later.”

“I’ll clean up after,” he kissed your cheek once more and gave your shoulders a squeeze before setting off to find something to keep him busy.

He was always tightening screws and changing lightbulbs and air filters, doing whatever he could to make your life easier. Sometimes, on particularly hard weeks, you would unplug your router and call him to come tinker with your internet. Any big or small gesture he could give you, he would jump through hoops to do. You had never felt as secure or adored in any relationship before Frank.

After dinner, and of course your favorite dessert, Frank set off to clean the dishes so you could hop in the shower.

The shower took a few minutes to heat up, so you took your time removing your necklace and the makeup you sported to work. Your cheeks puffed from the scrubbing, and steam was starting to paint the edges of the mirror in front of you.

The last thing you did was peel off the bandage on your finger. The skin was still split badly, deep purple peeking out from under it. It would hurt for a few more days at least, you reasoned.

You left a pile of clothes in front of the mirror, and stepped behind the glass wall of your shower. Another shitty Friday in the books. This would be sure to wash away at least some of your woes.

Your neck turned under the hot stream, letting the water distribute over your hair, and only when you reached up to run your fingers through it were you met with sharp pain.

You hissed and quickly retracted your hand, “Shit.”

The force of the water was like a hundred small knives driving into the exposed nerves. The pain burned hotter than it did when you cut it.

Tentatively, you placed it back in the stream to see if it just needed a second to adjust, but were met with the same intense pain.

You choked down a sob. It was silly, really. When you thought about the loss you saw today and the blood stained carpet, the empty seat at someone’s table tonight, it was ridiculous to be this upset over a shower.

All you wanted was to wash away someone else’s pain and move on with your life, and you started feeling selfish. Words of self ridicule started ringing in your ears, and you pressed your forehead against the cool tile wall, crying softly, willing yourself to pull it together.

You heard the shuffle of Frank entering the adjacent room to sit on the edge of the bed and tug his boots off, thud of his gun on your nightstand, and the unbuckling of his belt.

“Somethin’ wrong?” his low voice rumbled over the running water.

“I can’t wash my hair,” you admitted pathetically, sniffling from the corner, “It stings so bad.”

“You’ve sewed yourself up with no anesthesia and gunshot wounds and I’m sitting here crying about a little cut,” you continued.

You heard the pad of Frank’s feet on the tile as he stepped into the shower and wrapped himself around your wet frame.

“I don’t expect you to be tough as nails, sweetheart,” he murmured into your shoulder, pressing a kiss there, “I love that you’re so tender. You’re too good for all this shit. Stay that way.”

He cradled the sides of your head with two strong hands and turned you to face him, catching your mouth in a long kiss. Frank kissed like he was a starving man and you were the first food he had seen in days. It was enough to make your stomach flutter.

He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before gathering your hair into the water and raking his wide fingers through it.

“What are you doing?” you asked with red eyes.

“My girl said she wanted a shower,” his voice came out husky. Brow furrowed with concentration, he smoothed water through every strand, cradling your scalp so gently.

Overcome with emotion, you tucked your forehead into the safety of his neck, nuzzling your nose against his throat as he worked the tangles out of your hair.

The same hands that had snapped necks and pulled triggers were lathering your hair in shampoo and holding your hips close to his.

Your hands wandered his arms and back, grazing over scars and wondering how he got so lucky every time. He must’ve had one hell of a guardian angel. Whatever it was, you felt equally lucky to be here with him, to be his.

The two of you stayed mostly silent. Frank asking the occasional question.

“‘S’that hurt? Is this okay?”

When he finished with your hair, you stepped out of the way so he could quickly wash himself off, reaching for the shampoo you kept on the shelf for him.

Sometimes when he was gone for days at a time, you would wash with his soap and sleep wrapped up in one of his shirts.

Frank drew you into his embrace once more, and you rested easily against his chest with warm water creating pools and streams over the shape of your bodies together.

“I could stay like this forever,” you murmured.

“I couldn’t,” he said dryly, “My back is killing me.”

“Let’s go lay down, old man,” you teased, reaching to turn the water off.

“Alright smartass,” he laughed with one of his crooked half smiles, following you out of the shower and pinching your ass, eliciting a yelp.

Frank pulled on a pair of joggers and perched on the counter watching as you towel dried your hair. He leaned slightly forward with his hands curled under the edge of the counter. The muscles in his arms and chest were perfectly sculpted, glistening under a light layer of condensation while the steam filtered out of the bathroom.

You chose one of Frank’s black tee shirts and a pair of old cotton undies.

Frank waited patiently while you dabbed on a few creams and moisturizers, fussing with your hair and examining the split ends.

“Beautiful,” he hummed, leaning into your space to steal a quick kiss.

“Almost done,” you reassured, raking a cream through your hair.

“Take your time. I’m enjoying the view,” he smirked, craning his neck to take a peek at your ass while you leaned forward into the mirror.

“Perv,” you teased.

“Only for you, baby,” he smiled.

It was autumn in New York. The sun set quicker and quicker each night. Lazy orange light colored your room with flashes of brown and crimson leaves just outside the window. On your nightstand burned a cinnamon candle, and the rest of the lights were dimmed to set a warm mood. The sun and flickering flame cast wispy shadows on the wall.

On the tv across from your bed, there was a Great British Bake Off marathon playing with the volume low. Frank had pretended not to be interested at first, but it wasn’t long before he was criticizing cakes alongside you. It was something you could both agree on as background noise.

Frank sat straight with his back against the headboard, and you nestled between his legs leaning against his chest.

Callused fingers ran up and down your arms, toying with your hands and occasionally slipping in your sleeve to caress your shoulders. Physical touch was one of your chief love languages, and Frank was fluent. He had spent enough of his life alone and longing that when you were together, he indulged in every touch and kiss.

A deep exhale parted your lips and he shifted slightly.

“Is somethin’ else botherin’ you?” he asked after a considerable length of silence.

You didn’t know how to answer.

“Just seems like more than a cut finger got you in a funk today,” he nuzzled his nose against your cheek, pressing half a kiss there.

“I don’t want to bring work home with me,” you clamped your eyes shut and buried the side of your face into his chest.

“I come home caked in the shit I deal with every day, and not once have you made me feel like it’s an issue to you. You can talk to me,” he said matter of factly at first, but his tone softened into a gentle pleading.

Let me in.

You drew in a shaky breath.

“It was another homicide today. Guy killed his girlfriend. Don’t know why. Shot her in the stomach four times. She was dead when we got there, but her face,” you trailed off, “I’ve just never seen someone look so afraid. I don’t know if he was there when she died, or if she was alone, or what’s sadder.”

He sat in silence, intently listening.

“I know you see this kind of stuff every day, but it still gets to me,” a tear rolled down your cheek and you quickly swiped it with the back of your hand.

“Hey, hey,” he said softly, tugging at your shoulder to turn you towards him.

You swung a leg around so you were straddling him, your hands toyed with the chain around his neck.

“Baby, the people I see are bad people. People like your guy that got away today. Seeing the other side always hurts. You’re not weak for that,” he hummed. A strong hand cupped your cheek and turned your head slightly up to look him in the eyes.

“I’m sorry that happened,” he whispered. His brown eyes were overflowing with sincerity.

You wondered how one man could contain such wild contradictions. Gentleness and violence didn’t often walk hand in hand, but they did when Frank Castle was around.

His voice was like gravel and velvet. His kisses were both hungry and adoring.

With one hand on your face, his other rested at your waist, balling up the tee shirt and rubbing circles against your hipbone with his knuckles.

“You’re good at what you do. ‘S’okay that it weighs on you.”

“You too,” you countered softly, and you saw another level of defense in his eyes melt away, the corners of them softening almost imperceptibly.

“C’mere,” he pulled you into a tight embrace. The warmth of his bare chest burned through the thin barrier of his shirt across your frame. His arms felt like a fortress around you. You had never been afraid since he came into your life.

“You’re my peace, you know that? None of the rest of that bullshit matters to me. This is what matters,” he murmured softly into your ear.

You pushed lightly off his chest to look him in the eye once more, “You’re really sweet, you know that?”

He scoffed and turned his head with a shy grin, pink creeping into his cheeks, “Don’t go around tellin’ people that. Ruin my street cred,” he laughed lightly.

His heart drummed steadily beneath your hand. He made it another week and so did you. And you would keep making, you had vowed. For moments like this.

[ryanmarshallryan]

I've been having a lot more people reach out about the vore stories I write, so thought I'd throw it out there if anyone wants to donate to help me have more time to write stories, or likes my style and wants to commission something let me know over dm!

I usually write thinking from a prey perspective, but was feeling hungry after eating salads for a month and switched to pred for this story.

DIET BACKFIRED

I love my weight. I think my belly looks great on me. When I see those old statues of historical figures with dad bods I see myself and love it. But after gaining 25 pounds in a few months from stress, I decided to try out a diet for a bit, just to be cautious of my health. Man, it was hard. And this morning my hunger took control.

I was preparing a salad, heated up some chicken to mix in, sprinkled in some shredded cheese, spinach, lettuce, cucumber, tomato and such. All I could think about was how wonderful it would feel to have a full belly again. Not just feeling satisfied, but pigging out and shoving as much down my maw as possible. Feeling the gainer bug while also trying to diet was not going to work for me. I tore through my cabinet to find an old box of cookies. I opened the box, came to my senses and closed it, then decided I didn’t care and ate the remainder in one sitting. To try to slow myself down and tire out my palette, I tried to eat a bunch of lettuce, but then added a bunch of croutons and snacks without thinking. I still felt hungry, but just left the kitchen to stop myself.

Later, I hung out with my work-out buddy, Max, and vented about my hunger, “I’m still eating a lot! Just replacing chips with a lot of low fat snacks. So if the quantity of food I’m eating is the same, why am I always feeling sooooo hungry? Ugh.”

“Bro, sounds like you need a cheat day. But, hey, if you’re stressed about having too much high fat food, I can help you eat big while still holding back on the chips.”

“Well it can be helpful to sit with the feeling for a while. So if you start feeling hungry, write down exactly what you are craving and what that feels like. By the time you are done writing it out, if you’re still hungry for it… go for it. If the feeling passes, then move on,” Max continued.

“I’m sure we could try it, but I don’t see how much of a difference it’ll make.” I replied. I knew Max worked as some sort of private personal trainer or something on the side, so I felt inclined to believe him, but my stomach was doubtful.

After our workout, we visited a smoothie place and got large chocolate banana protein smoothies (after writing out what I was craving and waiting a moment before deciding to go through with it). I sucked mine down so fast I got a mild brain freeze.

“So how are you feeling? Hungry for another one?” Max asked, playfully placing a hand on my gut and giving it a quick rub.

“Ugh, I would totally go for a burger and fries right now… no, onion rings… actually both,” I replied, as Max handed me a notepad and pen. I wrote down the menu in my mind and thought about how it can be nice to feel so full without another care in the world.

“It’s been a few minutes… still hungry?” Max said with a sly smile.

“What do you think?” I asked him, lifting my gym shirt up to reveal my hairy belly, which gave a perfectly timed gurgle.

Max drove to my favorite burger joint and ordered a few meals and insisted on paying “This is my idea, don’t worry about it… for science!”

After downing two large burgers, a full bag of onion rings and a couple sides of fries, plus an apple that came with Max’s meal that he was too full to finish, I sat with my gut extended out in front of me.

Max leaned over to me, pulled my shirt up over my belly and patted it with his closed fist as if knocking at a door, “So how are you doing, hungry guy?” He put his ear to my side and listened intently to the stomach gurgles, occasionally making sounds of “Mmm,” “Yes, I see,” “Interesting.” I couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the absurdity of Max speaking to my belly.

“What’s so funny about listening to your gut? Intuitive eating is no joke,” Max said with a joking smile, “What is your stomach telling you?”

I thought for a moment, grabbed the notepad and wrote down ‘Though I should be full and done eating… Ice cream would hit the spot right now… Surely that would fill me up, and fill the void the low fat snacks have opened.’ I handed Max the written note.

Max looked from my belly to my eyes with a poker face, “I know just the place.”

In a few minutes we rolled up to Max’s apartment. Inside he pulled out some pints of cookies and cream ice cream and some mint chocolate chip. He handed me a spoon and opened the containers and sat across from me.

“Do you want me to get a bowl?” I asked.

“Nah. Try to intuitively eat. Just eat until your body feels done.”

“So… eat until there’s a nationwide ice cream shortage?”

Max threw his head back laughing, “If we get to that point, maybe we’ll pivot to a new tactic, but for now, feel free to eat as much as you want.” He looked endearingly into my eyes, and I felt my gut rumble, whether by digestion or hunger, or both, I couldn’t discern.

As I scooped down ice cream, we chatted about hunger, about scarcity mindset when it comes to food, and he told me some interesting facts about digestion and how to make room in one's stomach faster than normal by laying on the left side.

“Is this the stuff people need to know for your personal training work and such?” I asked.

“Personal training stuff?” Max gave a look of puzzlement then laughed, “I think I said that sarcastically a while back. A few guys pay me to help them gain weight and eat big. So sort of a personal trainer, but kind of the opposite effect that most would expect.”

“Ohhh, this tactic makes a bit more sense now,” I replied, continuing to eat the ice cream.

“Well, I thought if I encouraged you to experience the ability to eat as much as you want without restriction, you’ll realize that you don’t have to eat everything. It sounds like you are always hungry, because you are always denying that you want food.”

“Hmm, I suppose that’s true,” I went to scoop up more ice cream then realized I’d eaten all of it.

“How are you feeling?” Max asked, rubbing the top of my belly.

I felt a grumble deep in my stomach.”I can definitely feel my belly full of food, but I also could definitely do the whole thing all over again.”

Max considered me for a moment, then started listing off some random digestion facts again. He put his head on my stomach again, lifted my shirt off my body, listened again, took his hands and gently opened my mouth wide and peered down my throat, until I started laughing and he couldn't hold my mouth open.

“What are you doing? You think my stomach is gonna speak back to you in English?” I joked.

“No… but I wonder if I could better understand your hunger if I could better see inside your gut. Hmmm, maybe even just peering down your esophagus…”

“Don’t you need a fancy scope for that or something?”

“Not if you’re willing to relax your throat for a moment…” Max said. I shrugged, and he straddled my lap and shoved his head into my mouth. I could feel his energetic breathing against my tongue and wondered how on earth he could see anything down my throat with his head blocking light from the outside.

I heard a muffled “I’d like to see a bit further…” and felt him push his whole body forward into me. His shoulders shoved their way into my maw and stretched my jaw wide like an opera singer. I choked a little bit feeling his scratchy hair make contact with my uvula and the bottom of my tongue. I reflexively closed my lips over his skin and swallowed as the hair and breath tickled my maw. I realized that my peristalsis must have taken a bit of control, because I was surprised to see that I was looking down at his lower back with his arms pinned to his sides. I felt his nipples and pectoral muscles sliding against my tongue and felt his head squeezed tightly through my lower esophagus. What was going on? Though the sensation was filling me with dopamine and adrenaline, I realized that somehow my body was getting ready to eat a whole human, so I mentally prepared myself to try and regurgitate him. But instead I felt him force himself deeper into my throat, as his feet pushed off against the floor, and his upper torso wriggled and squirmed to slide deeper into me. I felt a sloshing in my gut, and heard a muffled intake of air and the continuation of more digestion facts being spewed out of Max’s ever curious mind obsessed with digestion.

Since Max seemed so intent on getting inside my stomach, and I knew I would need to breathe soon, I decided to help him out. I lifted his legs up over my head and felt gravity pulling him down my throat. I pulled his gym shorts and such off him and felt the interesting texture of his little belly over his abs, mixed with gym sweat and belly hair, felt past his hard on and groin, and his thick thighs as they all passed over my tongue and against my soft palate. My stomach finally began to feel full, as it sloshed with its soupy contents of dinner encasing Max’s squirming upper body. I knew Max’s hands had been freed from the tight grip of my esophagus as my inner stomach felt a peculiar tickling sensation with Max rubbing it from the inside. I felt him poke around and heard his muffled casual observations about my stomach.

I felt Max’s muscles seize up as he put his legs together tightly and let them slide easily down my throat. I felt his cold feet tickle my tongue, uvula and esophagus until they finally plopped into my stomach and I felt my throat open enough for me to exhale and breathe in more oxygen finally.

I took a few moments to gather my thoughts and catch my breath, feeling Max move around and curl up into a ball inside my tight stomach. I looked down to see the bulge his head made toward the top of my belly, with other odd bumps sticking out that I assumed were his knees and feet pressing up against my stomach walls. I felt his clammy hands push up against my stomach as he surveyed his new situation.

“Max, I forgot to write this craving down first.” I said, jokingly.

“Don’t worry I already did!” I heard him shout back, hearing it almost come up through my own throat. I stared in confusion at the opened notepad next to me and flipped to the last written note that read ‘Ice cream and everything else isn’t satisfying enough. Maybe eating me will do the trick. - Max’

My belly gurgled in surprise, “You planned for me to eat you?”

“I did shove myself down your throat, didn’t I?”

“But why would you -”

“Hey you didn’t try and stop me, bud,” he replied. I felt a pat against my belly, and shivered a little bit.

“Yeah, but I thought you just wanted to glance inside, but you wriggled in deeper!”

“Are you mad that I did?” Max asked. I felt him shifting his weight inside my gut and resting into me.

I considered the events of the night. I had really craved a day to just eat all I wanted, and Max gave all that to me and more. Even though I definitely didn’t expect him to force his way onto the menu, my belly felt much more satiated than it had been. “... I’m not mad at you… just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into… but I do have a confession.”

“What is it?” Max asked, shifting around and pressing his head up against the place where my hand was resting on my belly.

“I could go for some orange sherbert right now… I think your diet tactic failed.” My stomach added a large grumble and groan in agreement.

“Failed for you, maybe. But I’m cozy!” Max tried to stretch out a bit and I watched my stomach bulges shift in a funny manner, and felt my belly tighten and knead Max in response. “Plus, I think I figured out why you’ve been so hungry lately.”

“And what have you discovered?”

“That you should have eaten me ages ago! Once I’m digested into belly fat you’ll have more energy stored in your cells for longer, so you won’t be as hungry all the time! It’s simple science,” Max replied matter of factly.

“I’m not sure that science is sound, but as long as you’re happy, I’m fat and happy.”

“If you don’t think the science is sound, maybe you ought to repeat the experiment. Have a cheat day every once in a while,” Max replied, as he curled into a tight ball again and let my stomach relax and get to work over him. “I know I’ve been seeing that cute guy at the gym drooling over your gut, you know, the one who always wears that green hat? I’m sure he’d love to be a part of your next cheat day once you’ve had enough of your salads and diet again.”

I enjoyed the peace of feeling Max getting comfortable deep in my gut. I took deep breaths and felt my diaphragm move Max around slightly as my chest expanded and contracted. “Maybe I’ll ask him. But I’ll leave it up to him whether he wants to take it as far as you did tonight.” I rubbed my belly and stared, mesmerized at the lumpy spots on my belly indicating Max’s body relaxing against my stomach walls. I felt his heartbeat in polyrhythm against mine, with his breathing patterns tickling my stomach walls. I tasted the lasting flavors of his skin on my tongue, mixed with ice cream and other sustenance I had downed throughout the evening. Good thing we worked out first, to balance out this sharp intake in calories. So I suppose even if I had a cheat day from my diet, eating a whole human balances out to be healthy, right?

[crabsnpersimmons]

Crabs this is Noa you need to help me I'm in love with your restaurant AU I need more I love food and you combined it with the dca I can't I ca

Uhh what's in the menu? :D

HEHE ME TOO NOA!!

legit every meal i have is inspiration for this AU 😂

as for the menu, welllll most of it is based on Hong Kong style cafe foods (because that's what inspired me at first), but the specials change regularly and go into many different cuisines.

the boys also specialize in different things too:

Sun specializes in healthy, nutritious meals. he’s also the most interested in learning all about food, from farms to cooking methods. if you ask him to surprise you, he’ll discretely scan you and determine what your body needs and will cook something accordingly.

You are surprised as a bowl of soup appears in front of you, held by a gold hand. You follow that hand to it’s owner—meeting Sun’s blank eyes staring down at you.

“I… didn’t order a soup,” you stutter.

“You appear to be low in iron today,” Sun responds in his monotone voice before turning away, then adding, “There is more if you need it. It's on the house.”

Without a further word, Sun returns to the kitchen.

The smell of the soup wafts to your nose and you decide to dig in. It’s a fairly clear broth yet surprisingly flavourful—the kind of soup that takes more than a day to properly steep and simmer to extract all the flavours from it’s ingredients. Despite that, the soup was clear of any dregs at the bottom—just the way you like it.

You feel your face warm—from the soup or from the attention, you’re not entirely sure.

You might take his offer for seconds.

Moon specializes in everything indulgent! juicy fried chicken? the cutest pastries? he loves them all and he’s always experimenting with new recipes. sure he recognizes the importance of a healthy meal, but sometimes you just need a boost, yknow? food is more than fuel, it can be something to be enjoyed.

When you stepped into the restaurant that morning, Moon could already tell you were off to a rough start. He watched from the kitchen window as you ate your breakfast, staring dryly at your phone.

And then he had an idea. Ooooohoohoohoo, clever Moon!

“Gooooood morning, starlight,” Moon walks over to your seat at the bar table. “How’s your breakfast? Would you like some dessert with it?”

You groggily look up from your phone, and nod, barely registering what he said. Then before you know it, Moon is gone and back again with a warm plate of french toast.

Moon wasn’t kidding when he said dessert—the toast is thick enough to be a cake! When you cut off a manageable bite, you realize it’s actually two slices of toast, sandwiching a gooey filling.

You take a bite and you’re surprised by how delicate and rich it is. The toast melts in your mouth and leaves behind the aroma of butter and eggs and the delightfully chilled sweetness of condensed milk coats your tongue.

Your expression must betray your reaction, because you see Moon smiling back at you so sweetly.

Eclipse is the main front of house, waiting tables and charming customers. and he’s also the barista, preparing a variety of drinks (and sometimes putting on a bit of a show while doing so). he can cook as well, but he leaves it mostly to Sun and Moon.

You have no idea how you got here. You decided to stop by the restaurant, only you forgot that today was their day off. However, you’ve learned that the chefs live in the apartment above the restaurant, which explains why Eclipse found you and let you in.

Now you were seated at the empty bar table, while the charming barista prepared you a drink.

“Here we are,” Eclipse gently places a glass in front of you.

Based on the colour, the ice, and the straw, you take a guess, “Iced coffee?”

“Half correct,” Eclipse chuckles and pours himself a glass as well. “It’s one of my old boss’s favourites. It’s called ‘yuenyeung’, a mixture of milk tea and coffee.”

“Oh, so ‘yuenyeung’,” you grimace at your butchered pronunciation, “means ‘tea-coffee’, I guess?”

Eclipse smiles. For the short while you’ve known him, you have learned you do not trust that smile. “No, ‘yuenyeung’ refers to a pair of mandarin ducks that look very different, male and female. They’re a symbol of conjugal love—a pair of two different elements coming together as one.”

You freeze as Eclipse chuckles and clinks your glass with his. “It’s more fragrant when it’s served warm, but it’s too hot for that today. I’ll save that treat for a day you need the warmth.”

He’s right. It is too hot for this today. You take your glass and sip on the straw, Even chilled, the aroma of black tea, coffee, and smooth milk is strong on your tongue.

Even after downing your entire glass, you still feel too hot.

[akazzzaa]

concept: if all the demons, lower & upper moon and muzan were able to cook, what would they make & bring for thanksgiving, if they celebrated with their s/o?

Sorry for being late! I'm unfamiliar with Thanksgiving day so I tried to do some research to make it accurate, Not a lot of American style food will be included cause they are from japan, but they try

A/N- I'm no chef, I had to look for a lot of recipes that would be 'demonic' and thanksgiving too ?

Characters- Muzan, Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza, Tamayo, Emnu

Summary- What they would cook for you on Thanksgiving

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- None really just a mention on blood once

Muzan

Muzan knows languages and understands a lot of cultures from around the world. He is interested in how different counties have such different taste in food. All human food is gross to him but he is the only demon who can actually eat human food without throwing up. He only eats human food to blend in. A very good cook otherwise.

I think Muzan would likely choose a high-quality turkey and he might incorporate a deep red cranberry sauce that reflects his demonic side while still being suitable for a Thanksgiving table. Carrots glazed with a blood orange reduction could be a visually striking and flavourful side dish. For dessert, a dark chocolate pecan pie could be Muzan's choice for you, combining sweetness with a hint of darkness. For a drink, Muzan would craft a special cocktail with dark fruits, red wine, and a touch of something more sinister. blood

Kokushibo

Given that Kokushibo lived during the Taisho era in Japan, he might appreciate traditional Japanese cuisine. If he were to celebrate Thanksgiving with his significant other, he might choose to prepare a special Japanese meal with a touch of elegance. He knows nothing about American cuisine and doesn't care to learn about it. He's the one cooking. You are the one eating. If you don't like it, make it yourself. He didn't cook a lot as a human but he knows his way around a kitchen.

He would cook sushi rolls with fresh fish, vegetables, and perhaps some unique ingredients to showcase his culinary skills. Light and crispy tempura made with seasonal vegetables and shrimp, served with a flavourful dipping sauce. A delicate Chawanmushi (Steamed Egg Custard)with ingredients like chicken, shrimp, and ginkgo nuts, steamed to perfection. Skewers of grilled chicken, perhaps with a teriyaki glaze, showcasing a balance of sweet and savoury flavours. For desert, a unique dessert that combines the rich flavours of matcha green tea with the creamy goodness of cheesecake.

Douma

Douma is an amazing cook, just under Muzan, he has chefs that cook for the followers but he has cooked many dishes for people during his lifetime. He's unfamiliar with American food but he will try for you.

Douma might appreciate a unique twist on the traditional Thanksgiving turkey. The glaze could be made with blood orange juice, honey, and spices, giving it a rich and flavourful coating with Truffle Mashed Potatoes. Then Douma may choose a red wine reduction sauce to enhance the flavour of the meal and tie the meal together. Douma is better at baking but doesn't think humans should eat to much sweets. But today is a one off for you both, he would create a visually striking dessert, perhaps with dark chocolate and exotic fruits.

Akaza

Not a bad cook, has never cooked until he met you and he's gotten better at it. He respects you and your culture so he will want to cook a Japanese-American dish for you.

Akaza could marinate the turkey in a special teriyaki sauce infused with cherry blossom flavours, giving it a unique and sophisticated twist. Instead of traditional sweet potato dishes, Akaza might opt for sweet potatoes glazed with a miso-based sauce, adding a savoury and umami-rich element to the dish. Fresh green beans cooked to perfection and tossed with a sesame dressing, providing a crunchy and nutty complement to the meal. For dessert, Akaza might choose to make a matcha-flavored tiramisu, combining the traditional Italian dessert with a Japanese green tea twist. To accompany the meal, Akaza might select a high-quality sake, demonstrating his refined taste and appreciation for Japanese beverages.

Tamayo

Given her background and the fact that she is knowledgeable about herbs and medicines, she might prepare a unique and exotic dish that incorporates flavors inspired by her extensive knowledge. Perhaps she would create a dish with rare herbs and spices, combining them in a way that showcases her expertise.

Tamayo might infuse traditional Thanksgiving turkey with a Japanese twist by using a miso glaze. Miso adds a rich, savoury flavour that complements the turkey. A stuffing made with Japanese mushrooms like shiitake and maitake, along with chestnuts, could be a flavourful side dish reflecting Tamayo's expertise with herbs and ingredients. A selection of pickled vegetables, such as daikon radish and carrots, could serve as a refreshing palate cleanser between bites of the richer dishes. For dessert, a matcha-flavored treat like matcha cheesecake or matcha-flavored mochi could be a delight to the Thanksgiving feast. She has modified her body to drink human tea, so she will watch you eat all the food she cooked but the only thing you two can enjoy together is a cup of tea. And she makes a good cup of tea.

Enmu

Will give you food poisoning. Do not eat his food

[stardropsaloongossiptrain]

Bachelor/ettes and Cooking

Gonna rank how I think the marriage candidates would do in the kitchen

----

Bachelors:

Elliott -- it takes a while, but once the man has a real kitchen at his disposal and some encouragement to try, I think he would really enjoy cooking and could be very good at it! I HC him as growing up in a wealthy home where he probably wasn't allowed to cook for himself, and then the cabin has nothing... but he remembers dishes he really enjoyed. I like to think he starts cooking just trying to help out once he moves to the farm, and there is DEF a learning curve... but there's a master chef hiding in there. I can feel it.

Alex -- you do not grow up with Grannie Evelyn and not learn how to cook. Impossible. Now, he's not a fancy chef by any means, but he can make a meal without issue. If you get this man a grill, he will 1000% become Grill Master, Kiss the Cook apron wearing Grill Dad. Also, though he rarely does it, he can bake up a storm. Generally only bakes for birthdays.

Harvey -- He can cook, but only cooks healthy meals. He will need to be taught that it's okay to season your food. Brown rice, steamed veggies, and plain tofu/ chicken breasts type guy. Otherwise, it's pre-packaged frozen food. Maybe he can get better w/ encouragement but he's always going to be checking portions and making sure you eat plenty of fruits and vegetables and watch your sodium intake. The most likely bachelor to be vegetarian/ be willing to go vegetarian. Gets nauseated if he's preparing meat.

Shane -- Mid-tier like Harvey, but even though he's had kitchen access he rarely feels like cooking. He knows what seasoning is-- his usual cooking style is the exact opposite of Harvey, mostly family recipes. All flavor, calorie count who?? Loves making food covered in cheese, sauce, or gravy. His chili would win awards, but he only makes it once a year.

Sam -- He could keep himself alive if the box has directions. Anything more complicated than boxed mac and cheese, though, and he gets a little lost. Can help YOU in the kitchen very well, but to be honest he would rather be doing something more exciting.

Sebastian -- The only one who is a worse cook than him is Abigail. He is NOT allowed in the kitchen even to watch. Could burn iced tea.

---

Bachelorettes

Emily -- Oldest sister + working at the Saloon added together means she's definitely going to be a decent cook, but she genuinely enjoys cooking. She loves to experiment with different cultural dishes. She only cooks vegetarian or vegan dishes.

Penny -- She's pretty self sufficient. I don't think she knows too many recipes, but she enjoys experimenting if she moves to the farmhouse. She's very adapt at stretching a budget, and I think she would enjoy making jams/ pickles. Not the big amount the farmer does, but small batches in special flavors.

Leah -- She's a simple cook. She prefers raw dishes, or things like buddha bowls. A lot of texture and flavor. Loves using herbs and edibles from foraging locally. Leans vegetarian but doesn't mind fish from time to time.

Maru -- Maru is proficient at cooking, but I think takes after her dad too much and is very nutrient focused vs what actually makes a good meal. Occasionally makes questionable decisions in the name of efficiency. Could go from making some sort of casserole if busy w/ a project to Extremely Experimental if she has the time. No in between.

Haley -- I considered putting her higher but no. She has rarely if ever had to cook for herself before, so if she's at the farmhouse she will be surprised if you expect her to do anything in the kitchen. Eventually I think she could be fine. It's not hard. She just hates doing dishes. Enjoys baking somewhat, especially w/ Alex.

Abigail -- She eats rocks as a snack and thinks if you just crank the oven to 600 for fifteen minutes it's better than 350 for an hour. Her stomach is alien to this world. Can and will eat anything without issue.

[takenbypeter]

Food Not For The Fainthearted

Adam Warlock x reader

Words: 1378

“Okay sit down, but keep your eyes shut,” Adam instructed as he placed you in front of a chair.

Your smile deepened as he did so, clear excitement audible in his words. 

Adam has only been on this skull planet for a year now but he hadn’t really made a true friend on this planet until a couple months in when he met you. You made him feel welcomed here. With you he wasn’t at all embarrassed or fearful that you would judge him if he didn’t know a common thing, being that he was only taken out of his pod recently. 

One of the things he enjoyed about you was that you truly took the time to explain things to him and then let him analyze things. One of the things he explored with you was food. Now of course Adam knew what food was and its purpose. He just wasn’t aware there was such a variety of sustenance. With you he discovered his likes, dislikes, how to mix some foods together in recipes, it was truly all new to him. But after some time he gained the hang of it. 

He was so grateful towards you, which is why he wanted to express his thanks. And he thought, what better way than to cook you a meal. Which is what brought you to where you are now, sitting in front of a meal with your eyes closed. He had no help from you and didn’t even give you a hint as to what the meal was, clearly wanting the dish to remain a surprise…until now.

“Okay open your eyes,” he encouraged and as soon as your lids opened, (after blinking at the sudden light), they shifted downwards towards the plate placed in front of you. 

“Chicken stir fry?!” You asked not expecting this type of dish.

“Not just any chicken stir fry. Spicy chicken stir fry,” he corrected, proudly. At the mention of that the crinkle around your eyes relaxed while you tried to keep your smile on display, “oh wow, spicy chicken stir fry…” you repeated. 

Yes, you and Adam had tried different foods together and you were the one to introduce him to different spices and such but it seems that he didn’t notice how you never actually ate any of the spicy foods. It wasn’t the fact that you just didn’t like it, it was more of the fact that some of the spicy items would inflame your taste buds which just wasn’t exactly your favorite feeling in the world. 

But were you going to tell this poor man who looked just so eager for you to try the first dish he’s ever made? Of course not.

“It looks appetizing,” you stated, which was the truth. 

“Thanks, I can't wait for you to try it.”

After making sure you had a glass of water sitting beside you, you stuck the utensil into the dish making sure you got enough. Lifting up the portion you smiled at Adam who was watching you eagerly. And with that final glance you put the portion in your mouth. 

It took all of your acting skills, (which wasn’t exactly the best), to give a smile and pretend it was all okay. Granted the food was delicious but you could already feel the heat sticking to the back of our throat. 

“Mmm, delicious,” you said, mouth hiding behind your hand as the food just hovered in your mouth. Adam grinned widely as he looked down to take his spoonful. In the split second that he does you're already breathing out hot air, trying to do so subtly. 

Obviously there’s no real way of breathing out subtly and Adam picked his gaze back up, looking at you questionably. 

You waved your hand at him, “it’s just a little hot.”

“Oh, yeah I added extra sauce cause I really liked the kick it offered when we tried it awhile ago.”

Your eyes widened at the word extra before you composed yourself, “yup that explains it.” You could practically feel the taste buds on the tip of your tongue starting to appear bumpy, while your nose felt as if it had begun to run. 

Placing your utensil down you take a sip of water, which of course barely helps, if it does at all. Setting the cup down you mentally give yourself a pep talk, he went to all this effort to make you a meal. 

You got your utensil ready taking one more small amount in, of course this just causes more damage to the scene. Quickly swallowing the food, figuring that was better than spitting it out you then grabbed the water before gulping it down leaving just about less than half. 

It was when you placed it down and met Adam’s eyes that you realized just how crazy you probably looked. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, looking concerned. 

You debated for a split second if you should just tell him the truth or pretend everything was okay. You didn’t want to crush his feelings but you didn’t want to burn yourself as well. 

You placed your utensil down, a little more aggressively than you expected, but you blame that on the burning sensation, “Adam this meal is delicious. It’s beautiful, so well put together, I love it.”

His body physically perks up at your words, his shoulders straightening out. 

“But my body just doesn’t get along well with spicy foods.”

Judging from the expression that overcame his face this seemed like news to him, “what do you mean? We’ve had spicy foods together.”

“Yes…but no,” his eyes looked up in thought clearly trying to recall that day while you continued, “when we tried spicy foods, you ate all the food, I just sort of recommended and watched.”

Adam’s jaw dropped. 

“Oh that’s just terrible.”

“It’s fine,” you coughed out, throat hot, “it’s still delicious.”

“No, not the food. The fact that you are always being so kind to me, teaching me my likes and dislikes, and I clearly haven’t been paying any attention to you!”

“Oh please Adam…” you tried to brush off it wasn’t really a big deal.

“No it’s true. I don’t know your likes, your dislikes, I don’t even know you!” 

“You know me—“

Adam’s eyes turned into an intense shade of yellow before they practically lasered your plate into dust.

“How dumb must I be that I didn’t even notice you don’t like spicy food!”

Apparently this was hitting him a lot harder than you expected.

“That’s it…” you pushed your napkin to the side as you slammed your hands on the table standing up while you did so. That caused his own tantrum to pause.

 “You are not dumb! The fact that you say that infuriates me! You were just excited in trying new tastes that’s all.” 

It wasn’t much but that seemed to do the trick as his next words seemed less angry and more disappointed, “I’m just upset because I want to know you. I want to know your likes and dislikes. This whole time I thought we were getting closer but you’ve just been getting closer while I’ve been standing in the same exact spot.”

You hadn’t realized he felt so deeply about this—about you in that way. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t noticed things. 

“Just cause you don’t know my likes doesn’t mean you don’t know me. You know me Adam…” he still looked dejected, obviously upset about his lack of awareness. “Okay look, you can start learning things about me right now. Better late than never right?”

Adam pondered this over. “Plus you just found out something I don’t like, spicy food!”

His head shifted from side to side mulling this over before ultimately agreeing, “…okay,” he said, a sly smile sneaking its way onto his face.

“There we go, now that's a better attitude,” you grinned before your eyebrows pushed together suddenly focused on the burnt ash on the table. “I know you were upset but you didn’t have to go and burn the food you’ve made, it was still delicious.”

Adam’s smile turned into a more bashful one, “yeah it was a bit dramatic…But come on, let me make you something you will like.”

[tessa-liam]

Turning the Page 

-6- Right Here Waiting 

Choices, The Royal Romance, AU 

Series Premise: As Riley Brooks journeys through life as a single parent in New York City, an epiphany strikes as she contemplates the future for herself and her two-year-old son. 

Turning the Page Masterlist 

Main Pairing: Liam Rys x F!MC Riley Brooks  

All characters belong to Pixelberry, except William Brooks (Rys) and Matteo Magro, who belong to this series.  

Category: On-going series, contains angst/fluff/depression.  

Rating: M🔞Warnings - Series will contain crude language, NSFW material – not Beta’d - please excuse all errors. 

Right Here Waiting - 6 

Chapter Summary: After spending time with his son, Liam begins his journey to repair his relationship with Riley. 

Music & Title Inspiration:  Right Here Waiting, Richard Marx  

A/N1: In this alternate universe, after King Constantine orchestrates two individual scandals to humiliate and entrap Riley Brooks and Olivia Nevrakis in shame, Madeleine Amaranth secures her position as the Queen of Cordonia. Riley, as the King’s mistress and Olivia, in self-imposed exile. Tariq is never found.  

A/N2: My submission for @choicesflashfics, Week#59, prompt #3 - “That was then. This is now. Things change.” 

A/N3: My submission for @choicesnovchallenge, prompt #28, Holidays and Events – French Toast Day  

Words: 2500

Brooklyn Heights, New York

Straightening his back, Liam rubbed his eyes, as the jet lag took its toll. After checking the time on his cell, Liam stood up and took another look at his sleeping son. His heart was full, and he felt a sense of peace that he had not known in a long time. He knew it would take time, but he was determined to earn Riley's trust again, and that he would never give up on his son. 

Riley waited for him in the kitchen and offered a warm smile as he entered its rustic décor. “I know it's late, but I'm starving. Do you want something to eat?” 

Liam was grateful for the offer. “Yes, thank you. I haven’t eaten anything since lunch. That would be great.” 

“Have a seat, and I’ll make us some dinner.” Riley smiled coquettishly, pulling a chair for him from under the table. 

Liam sat down at the kitchen table and watched as Riley busied herself with preparing their meal. It was a surreal moment, and he had a hard time believing that this was actually happening, but the aroma of the food and the sight of Riley moving about the kitchen with ease, made it all too real. 

As they ate, Liam could sense the tension between them. He knew there was so much left unsaid, but he was hesitant to push Riley too far, too fast. He decided to try a different tactic, one that was more familiar to them both. 

“How have you been, Riley?” 

Riley was startled by his question, and her eyes darted up to meet his. “I’ve been … okay. Busy with work, and William keeps me on my toes,” she replied. 

“Tell me about him,” Liam encouraged. 

Riley’s eyes lit up, and a smile tugged at her lips. “Well … he’s amazing, Liam.” Riley’s eyes sparkled with genuine love. “He’s smart, funny, and so full of energy. He loves animals, and his favorite food is chicken nuggets. He’s just …” she trailed off, tears filling her eyes. 

“He’s your whole world,” Liam finished for her. 

“Yes,” Riley said softly, her voice choked with emotion. 

“I am so, sorry I was not there for you, Riley. For both of you.” Liam’s expression was wistful. 

“Liam, how could you have known?” she replied, looking down; not able to return his gaze.   

Liam reached across the table and gently squeezed her hand. 

“Riley... look at me, please.” Slowly lifting her head, she met his gaze. “I will never stop regretting that I was not there for you. That you felt that you could not confide in me.” 

She gave him a tearful smile, her lips trembling. “We both know, had I told you, you would have given up the throne.  And the country could not afford that. And Madeleine …” Riley lost her battle with her tears and looked down to her hands. “Madeleine would have taken advantage of the situation, and …"  

Liam sighed, his thumb brushing the back of her hand. “Riley, I would have found a way. But you are right. My duty is to my people, first and foremost. Duty is important, especially when its most difficult to carry out.” 

“That is what I admire most about you, Liam.”  Riley’s breath hitched, “that is why I agreed to be your mistress when Tariq couldn’t be found.” 

“Riley, you were never my mistress, you are the love of my life,” he replied, his voice firm. 

“Liam, please.” Riley wiped the fresh tears away. 

“No, Riley, please let me finish... 

When I was crowned King, I vowed to always put the needs of my people before my own. I went through the motions of an engagement and then the marriage. But the day you left, love, I realized that without you, I could never be the King my people deserved. I was miserable, and I knew that if I lost you forever, I would never be happy again. Riley, you are my home.” 

“Liam, I …" 

“No, my love. You do not have to say anything. I just need you to know how I feel. I love you, and I will do whatever it takes to prove that to you.” Liam watched as Riley broke down and he at once moved to her side, taking her into his arms. 

"You don't have to say anything," he assured her. "I just want you to know that I'm here for you, and I'm not going anywhere. If you feel the same about me.” 

"What about Madeleine?" Riley asked, her eyes searching his. 

"As of this afternoon, Madeleine was served with dissolution papers. My lawyers have already let me know that, in exchange for clemency, that Madeleine will leave Cordonia. Riley, that marriage and along with it, the Cordonian arrangement, has been absolved.” 

Riley was speechless, clearly overwhelmed by his revelations. 

Liam lifted his hand to cup her cheek; he could see the exhaustion on her face, and he knew they both needed some rest. "Let's get some sleep, and we can talk more tomorrow." 

Riley nodded and stood, and he followed her down the hallway to her bedroom. They walked in silence as Riley's nerves were very aware of Liam’s proximity.  He looked so good, and it had been so long since she had felt his touch. She demurely smiled up at him and started to pull him through the door. 

"Riley," Liam began, slowing his walk, pausing beside the guest room. 

"But..." Riley protested. 

"Please, Riley, let's not rush this. I want to do things right this time. Let us begin to re-write our story.” 

Liam kissed her cheek. "Good night, my love. Sleep well." 

"You too, Liam," she responded. 

As Liam turned to leave, Riley impulsively reached out again to pull him close. Their lips met in a tender kiss, and Liam was lost in the sensation of her soft lips on his. It had been so long, and his body reacted instantly, the fire within him threatening to consume him. He forced himself to pull away, his breath ragged. 

"Riley..." he warned, unhooking her arms from his neck. 

"I know, Liam, I just had to have one last taste." 

Liam laughed, his heart soaring. "One last taste? Who said this will be the last time?" 

Riley giggled, her face flushing. "Good night, Liam." 

"Good night, Riley." 

They stood there for a moment, each taking in the sight of the other. Finally, Liam reluctantly turned and headed into the guest room. Riley closed her door and leaned against it, her heart pounding. She could not believe what had just happened, but she was elated and hopeful for the future. 

The Four Seasons Hotel, Manhattan 

Stumbling into the penthouse suite, Leo chortled, guiding the blond to his room with his hands firmly locked on her waist. The young woman giggled and pushed the door open, and he followed, closing the door behind them with a kick. 

"Now where were we?" Leo suggestively said, pulling the woman close and kissing her soundly. 

"Leo, stop," the woman giggled, pushing him away. 

"Come on, baby, don't be like that," he purred, pulling her close again. 

"Leo, no ... you're drunk," she protested, but he could tell she was enjoying the attention. 

"So are you," he countered, his lips scaling down her neck. 

“I know,” she snickered. “Do you remember my name?” Leo pulled away and looked at her. She was gorgeous, and he couldn’t help but smile. 

"Of course, I do," he lied, "but maybe you can refresh my memory?" 

She laughed and shook her head. "It's Ashley." 

"Ashley," Leo repeated, tasting the name on his lips. "I like that." 

"I bet you say that to all the girls," she teased. 

"No, no ... only the beautiful ones," he replied, his words slurring slightly. 

Ashley laughed, "hey, stop .... your phone is vibrating!"

Leo grabbed the phone from his pocket and squinted at the screen. 

"It's a text from my brother. It says, 'we need to talk.’” 

Concerned, Leo called Liam back at once, disentangling Ashley's arms from his neck. 

"What is it, Li? Are you alright?" Leo's voice was laced with worry. 

"I'm fine, but I have news." Liam's tone was calm, which confused and intrigued Leo. 

"What's going on, Liam?" Leo asked, his concern growing. 

"Riley and I... well, I just met my son."

After a moment of silence ... 

"You...you have a son?" Leo repeated, his eyes widening in shock. 

"Yes. William. Riley's son. Our son." 

Leo ran his hand through his hair and looked around the room, his mind racing. 

"Are you there, Leo?" Liam asked, breaking the silence. 

"Yeah, sorry. This is just a lot to take in." 

"I know. I'll explain everything later. I will be staying here with Riley, for now. I need you to take care of a few things for me." 

"Sure, Liam. Anything," Leo agreed. “But I need all the deets, asap.” 

"Thank you. And Leo, keep this quiet. We don't need the press finding out about this." 

"Li.... what should I tell Olivia? The council? They are expecting you to attend the Five Kingdoms Festival opening ceremony next weekend." 

"That was scheduled months ago. That was then. This is now. Things change." 

"You got it, Liam. Talk to you soon." 

Leo ended the call and stared at his phone, still trying to wrap his head around his brother's news. He looked up to find Ashley slipping out the door. Sighing, Leo poured scotch into a crystal tumbler and switched on the television. 

 Brooklyn Heights, New York City 

The sun's rays were streaming through the patio doors of the kitchen as Daniel scooped three teaspoons of sugar into his black coffee. Matteo quickly kissed him goodbye before heading out the door as William climbed up on his toddler chair with his train car. 

"So, buddy, what would you like for breakfast?" 

"I'm hungery, Dan Dan."  

Grinning, Daniel poured apple juice into a sippy cup, "you are? Hmmm. I'm thinking french toast with berries and syrup.” 

William's face lit up, and he clapped his hands excitedly. "Yummy!" 

"You got it, kid," Daniel chuckled, pulling out a pan and the ingredients. 

Liam walked into the kitchen as Daniel's eyes widened in surprise. "Your Majesty, good morning." 

"Good morning, Daniel. I think it's time you started calling me Liam. No need for formalities." 

"And good morning to you William." Liam smiled affectionately, turning his attention to his son. 

William looked up to the tall man, shyly, "Hi". 

"Okay, Liam. Can I get you anything to eat or drink?" 

"Just a cup of coffee, please." 

Daniel poured the King a cup as Liam sat down at the table; already knowing that Liam had come to reunite with Riley yesterday evening. 

William was watching Liam closely and offered to share his toy train.

"For me? Thank you." William smiled and pointed at his breakfast. 

"Dan Dan made me it."  

"Is that so? It looks delicious. Do you mind if I have some too?" 

William giggled, "okay." 

"Dan, could you please make me a plate as well?" 

Daniel nodded, "absolutely. Coming right up." 

"Thank you.”  

“So, William, I see you like trains?" 

"Yes! And puppies.” 

"Wow, you really do like a lot of things." 

William grinned, taking a sip of his juice. 

"You and I have a lot in common. I love trains, too. And... puppies.” Liam smiled. 

William grinned, "you're funny, Mr. Liam." 

"You think so? I'm glad you think so, William. You know, I've always loved trains, even when I was a little boy. Would you like to hear a story about a train I rode on once?" 

William's eyes widened in delight. "I like stories.” 

"Okay, here goes," Liam said, taking a bite of his food. "One day, when I was about your age, my father and I were traveling across the country, and we decided to take the train instead of our usual car. It was a very big train, with many cars, and we had to ride in a special car just for us." 

"Wow!" William exclaimed; his eyes wide with wonder. 

"We rode that train for hours and hours, and we stopped in many different towns and cities. Each one was more beautiful than the last. But then, something strange happened." 

"Oh," William asked, his face a mixture of fear and curiosity. 

"We got stuck. The train stopped working, and we were stranded. It was a very scary situation. We were all alone, with no one to help us. We had no idea what to do. But then, something amazing happened." 

"What? What happened?" 

Liam leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "a magic train came along and rescued us. It was like something out of a fairy tale." 

"Wow," William breathed, eyes wide.

"Yes, it was quite incredible. We were all safe, and the train took us the rest of the way. But it was an adventure I will never forget." 

"Wow," William breathed in awe. 

Leaning against the doorframe, Riley looked at the two, smiling as she took in the scene before her. 

"Good morning, everyone," she announced brightly. 

"Good morning, Riley," Liam replied, standing up to greet her, kissing her cheek. 

William's eyes widened, "Mama, look, Mr. Liam told me a story." 

Riley grinned, ruffling her son's hair, taking the seat next to William. 

"LiLi, this man …” Riley reached across the table and squeezed Liam’s hand. 

“... is your Daddy."  

"Daddy? My daddy?" William turned and looked up at his father, eyes wide, filled with wonder. 

"Yes, I am," Liam softly replied; overcome with emotion. 

Liam stood and knelt, meeting his son's eyes. "I've been away for a while, but I'm here now, and I want to be part of your life, if you'll have me."

William smiled, wrapping his arms around Liam's neck. “My Daddy.” 

Liam's heart swelled as he embraced his son.

"And Mama, too?" William asked.

"Of course, and Mama too." Liam looked at Riley lovingly.

Thanks for reading!

📌All fics & edits: @ao719 @txemrn @queenmiarys @sfb123 @twinkleallnight @alj4890 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @harleybeaumont @busywoman @karahalloway @kingliam2019 @imjusthereforliam @lovingchoices14 @kyra75 @tinkie1973 @emkay512 @malblk21 @kristinamae093 @charlotteg234

📌TRR/TRF Liam & Riley: @irisk12 , @walkerdrakewalker @thesvnsins @jared2612

📌Turning the Page: @emersyn-in-cordonia @mainstreetreader @belencha77 @iluaaa @mysticalfangirl @queenwalton @bascmve01 @umccall71 @choicesfrog @amandablink

📌Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @choicesflashfics @choicesnovemberchallenge

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 7

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Here's the next chapter, I hope you enjoy. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The days leading up to Christmas pass in a blur. I work almost constantly either in the cafe or at home helping Stella with Wedding plans. My contact with Jensen falls back to sporadic texts during lunch breaks. It feels impossible to build any connection with so little contact, but he’s been so understanding, claiming he’s also busy now that he’s home.

When I finally flip the sign on the door to ‘closed’ at six o’clock on Christmas Eve I’m utterly exhausted. I check my phone on the walk back to my apartment.

Hey Darlin’, About to get on the road. It’s a long trip, if you’re not too tired after work, I’d love to chat

I pass a packed restaurant and glance through the large windows at the couples and families sharing a lovely pre-Christmas meal. Knowing I’m going back to an empty apartment, the loneliness wins out and I decide to call him. 

“Hey, Darlin’.”

“I knew that would sound so much better in your Texan drawl.”

“Sorry ‘bout that. It tends to come out more when I’m at home.”

“Don’t apologise. How’s the drive?”

“Been on the road ‘bout an hour and a half, still got two to go. Been a little lonely so far, but it just got a little better. How long you free for?”

“Three and a half hours? That’s not really a long trip…But I’m almost home now so I guess I can keep you company for a while.”

“In a car by myself on my way to see my family…yeah, it’s a long trip.”

“I guess I can understand that. I bet there are a few thoughts going around your head at the moment. I know I’d be spiraling…”

“I don’t know about spiraling…But yeah…My sister’s bringing her husband, as expected and my brother’s bringing his latest flame, so I’ll be the awkward seventh wheel turning up alone. Can’t wait for Mom’s twenty questions about when I’m finally gonna settle down. It’s not enough to just be famous, she wants grandkids…”

“That actually makes me feel better about spending Christmas alone.”

“Sorry…My family’s great and I’m glad I won’t be alone. I shouldn’t complain.”

“No, it’s okay. I get it. Vent away. Plus, we haven’t really had a chance to get to know each other, and I’ve already learnt a few more things about you. Tell me more.”

“Well, it might give you a little more context if I tell you I’m the middle child. Wait. You’re not taking notes, are you? Gonna sell my sad story to some journalist for a pretty penny?”

As I listen, I put a tray of frozen butter chicken and rice in the microwave to cook before kicking off my shoes and collapsing on the couch. “They’d pay for that? Maybe I should. Pay off some student debt while I’m at it, or maybe just something that’s not ramen and frozen dinners.” 

“Don’t tell me that’s gonna be your Christmas dinner.”

“You get used to it. The frozen meals are getting better. Roast beef, shepherd's pie, al la Chef Ramsay.”

“Gordon Ramsay sells frozen meals?”

“Yep.”

“I’m still taking you out for a proper meal sometime. No, you know what. I’m gonna send you some money. Go out for a proper Christmas dinner, on me. Please.”

“And sit amongst all the happy couples and families like the loner I am. No thanks.”

“At least buy yourself something nicer to eat alone then?”

“Don’t worry, Nick’ll cook something. Stella won’t let me wallow here alone.”

“Good. Buy yourself something nice then. Treat yourself to a new dress or jewelry or…”

“Jensen, stop. I’m not taking your money, okay? I’m not a gold digger. I’ll stumble through on my own. I always have. Plus, I’m the one that owes you a shirt.”

“You’re eating ramen and frozen meals and you want to replace a shirt that cost more than your monthly salary? Forget it.”

“You shirt cost-Wait! Are you trying to figure out how poor I am?”

“We all start somewhere, Darlin’. When I first moved out to LA I had nothing. I was mucking out horse stables to get from one audition to the next.”

“Yeah, but I bet you did that right out of high school…not after taking a gap year to follow around a dropkick and then trying to get your life back on track after being cheated on, only to fall for the same shit again with a different guy. Thus putting your study and life on hold again. Only to then find yourself quickly approaching your 30th birthday with nothing to show for it…”

“Wait…Wait. I’m pulling over. I can’t process that while driving.”

“Sorry, no. Keep driving. We will talk about it some other time…or not at all.” You hang your head and mentally chastise yourself for divulging so much information at once. You blame the loneliness and exhaustion. 

“I should get gas anyway. Just hang on, Darlin’.” I sigh and pull out my tight ponytail so I can run my hands through my greasy hair. “Alright. I’m parked now. Let’s talk. Cause yeah, you’re right, I did go straight out of high school. But I wanna hear more about these dropkicks.”

“There’s nothing to tell. It’s my fault really. I should’ve been better, stronger.”

“Hey, hey, no. Don’t blame yourself. Did they? Did they blame you? Tell you it was your fault?”

“Don’t all guys? But they didn’t have to…If I had satisfied them they wouldn’t have brought other women into our bed…” I sigh, “Who am I kidding? Why are you still talking to me? I could never satisfy the likes of you. You’ve probably been with all sorts of supermodels and actresses…”

“Y/N. Darlin’. That is not on you. And no, not all guys. Those boys didn’t deserve you. You deserve a real man who would treat you right. Also, never compare yourself to supermodels or other actresses. ‘Cause yeah, maybe I have slept around a bit, but where the fuck are they now? They wouldn’t spend hours talking me through a road trip. You’ve satisfied me more than anyone else ever has, in just the last few days.”

“Jensen…You know how that sounds right?”

“That’s not what I meant. I’m a gentleman. I promise, there’s been no hand-to-dick contact to thoughts of you.”

“That’s reassuring. Same here, just so you know…no hand-to-…You know what I mean.”

His low chuckle reverberates through the phone, warming me and alleviating a little of my anxiety. “Yeah. I know what you mean. So, uh, back to the point…Who are these guys that I need to ruin?”

“They’re nobody. I don’t want to talk about them anymore. Can we go back to your problems? They’re less…they’re just less.”

“Thanks?”

“You know what I mean!” Feeling a little better, I drag myself up and bring the now-cooled dinner from the microwave back to the couch. “Middle child problems are less heavy than a string of douchebag exes.”

“At least we can agree they’re douchebags.”

“Jensen!” I chastise. 

He chuckles and then sighs. “Let me actually get gas and snacks and get back on the road. Then you can hear more of my life story, seeing as you just divulged a big chunk of yours, which we will talk about more in the future by the way. I won’t force you to dwell on it tonight, but I want to know all about you. I know there’s more interesting stories there.”

I eat while the line is silent. Part of me feels like a fool for sharing the story of my exes with Jensen, even if it was only one tiny part.

When Jensen finally comes back to the phone we continue talking until he pulls into Richardson. He shares stories about himself and his siblings growing up and his plans for Christmas, which he doubts will be white, considering the mild temperatures in Texas. I enjoy getting to know him more intimately and as a person, more than just his career. But he also tells me all about his passion for music and how it’s similar to his passion for acting. He tries to get me to open up more but reluctantly accepts when I say I’m tired and more interested in hearing his stories. Undeterred, chills run down my spine when he says, “Someday, Darlin’. Someday you’re gonna return the favour. I’m gonna know everything there is to know about you.” He reluctantly cuts the night short when he pulls into his parent’s driveway. “Thanks for the company, Darlin’. Merry Christmas Eve.” I argue that Christmas Eve is still three hours away, but wish him a Merry Christmas anyway before the line goes silent. 

As I stare at my cracked home screen I decide to come up with a nickname for him. If he’s going to insist on melting my heart with that delicious, deep, drawl, “Darlin’”, then I intend to come up with something that causes a similar effect.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never

[ejzah]

A/N: Happy 5th Anniversary to Kensi and Deeks! I can’t believe five years ago we were wondering if it would ever happen. We’ve got a little bit of fluff, domestic Densi, babies, Rosa, and of course, romance.

This story ignores the fact that Sam is now in Hawaii.

***

Here’s to Five and Many More

When Rosa first met Sam Hanna and G. Callen (it would be a couple months before she heard what the G stood for thanks to Sam’s teasing), she thought they seemed nice, but fairly intimidating. She never imagined that they’d ever consider her their honorary niece, or that she’d feel comfortable to have them over for dinner.

Even more surprising was that they both accepted and didn’t seem fazed when they found out Kensi and Marty wouldn’t be in attendance.

“Have you ever considered opening your own restaurant?” Callen questioned after his first bite of chicken stew.

Rosa dipped her head at the compliment, shrugging. “Thank you. I’m glad you like it. But I think I’ll keep cooking as a hobby for now.” She shifted her weight. “And thank you for coming last minute.”

“Hey, I’ll never say no to a good meal, but something tells me that you didn’t invite us over just to sample your cooking,” Sam observed.

“You’re right, I didn’t,” Rosa admitted, brushing her hair back. “I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

Callen paused with a pepper halfway to his mouth and Sam’s face instantly shifted into something darker.

“Who is he and what did he do?”

“Uncle Sam, it’s nothing like that,” Rosa assured him quickly before he could find some poor and unsuspecting boy. “Steven is still wonderful. It’s not something bad.”

“Ok, but if that changes, I’m a text away, and have no problem lightly abusing my power to make arrests.”

By now, Rosa was fairly used to such offers, so she took it in stride. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.” Folding her hands together, she breathed in once, not sure why she felt so nervous. “So, Marty and Kensi’s fifth anniversary is coming soon and I want to plan something special for them,” she explained.

“Yeah, March 17th.” Callen nodded.

“Yes. It’s four weeks away.”

“I want to plan something special for them. It’s been a really exciting year, but also so much has changed, and I know it hasn’t all been easy,” Rosa continued. “Maybe a nice dinner out or even a couple days away. Although I don’t know if Kensi and Marty will want to leave the twins overnight.”

“Hm, it would take some planning to pull off, but it’s possible,” Sam mused.

And don’t worry, I’ve saved some money from my job. All I need is help with the actual scheduling and execution,” Rosa assured him.

“Kid, we’re not making you pay for anything,” Callen interrupted with a roll of his eyes. “Kensi and Deeks would kill us if they found out we let you spend all your money on them.”

“I can afford it,” Rosa said stubbornly, pride getting the better of her.

“But you don’t have to. That money is supposed to be for your needs. Like tuition, and books, and ice cream during finals week ,” Sam told her gently.

Rosa smiled reluctantly at the last part. “Ok. I’m chipping in though since it was my idea.”

“Always so stubborn.”

“Well, it’s a Deeks-Blye trait,” Rosa explained with a self-deprecating shrug. Then more added more earnestly. “Thank you for helping me.”

“Anytime kid.”

***

“Babe, have you seen my breast pump?” Kensi asked, rushing from their bedroom.

“Uh, it’s in the hallway bathroom,” Deeks told her without looking up from wrangling Sophia into a clean onesie. He finished and tucked her under his arm.

Kensi hurried out of the room, coming back with pump and a couple fo bottles.

“Alright, you’re all clean, how about some tummy time?” Sophia made a sighing sound at Deeks’ suggestion, palming at his nose. When he had her settled on her stomach in the middle of a blanket with some toys, he grabbed Caleb.

Roughly three months in, they’d found a rhythm to caring for the twins. It was an exhausting and completely insane rhythm, but it worked for the most part.

“Now we have two clean babies,” Deeks announced, setting Caleb next to his sister. “Which should last anywhere from ten minutes to an hour and a half.”

Kensi laughed wryly from the couch, head flopped back on the cushion as the pump whirred quietly.

“Did Rosa say if she’ll be home for dinner?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Ok, I’m going to start some chicken and broccoli. Maybe potatoes if I’m feeling ambitious,” Deeks replied. Crouching briefly, he tickled each of the twin’s tummies. “Now don’t get into any trouble while I’m out of the room.”

***

Rosa arrived shortly before six with a loaf of crusty bread and a chocolate cake in hand. Deeks accepted both, grateful to have something to round their dinner out.

“¿Cómo están mis hermosos hermanitos y hermanitas?” she asked the twins, getting down on the blanket with them. They cooed happily, Caleb lifting his head higher in excitement. “Mira lo fuerte que eres.”

“I swear Sophia almost rolled onto her side this morning,” Deeks said, responding to the one-sided conversation.

“Isn’t that really early?” Rosa asked.

“It is,” Kensi confirmed. “It’s exciting, but I’m not quite sure I’m ready for them to be mobile yet.”

“Eh, it figures given their mom’s a ninja assassin.” Deeks winked at Kensi, who rolled her eyes.

“And their dad excels at any sport that involves ice or water.”

They held each other’s gaze for several seconds, Kensi’s eyes darkening, until Rosa pointedly cleared her throat.

“Do I need to leave the room?”

“No, no we’re good. Uh, dinner will be ready in five minutes,” he said, moving back into the kitchen. Rosa followed him. “How was your day?”

“It was ok. Do you need any help?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

Leaning against the counter, Rosa watched him put everything on the stovetop and begin dishing out servings.

“My literature class and ethics are always interesting. But I’m regretting taking history more every day.”

“Still unreasonably boring and complicated?” Deeks guessed.

“Yes.” She groaned and rubbed her hands over her face. “I never want to hear about 15th century kings again.”

“Ooh yeah, that’s not fun.” He winced in sympathy. “If you want any help studying, I’m always here. I might ask for payment in the form of baby-holding, but I’m always happy to help or just commiserate.”

Rosa giggled, her entire face brightening. “Thanks, Marty.”

“Any day, Rosalita. You wanna grab the last plate and bread?”

They set everything on the table while Kensi settled the twins in their car seats. Generally one of their toys kept them busy long enough for a quick dinner.

“Before we eat, I have something for both of you,” Rosa spoke up, pulling a gift out of her bag. “Happy Anniversary.”

“Oh, thank you, Rosa.” Kensi took the package, which was about dinner plate sized and based on the way her hands dipped, heavier than anticipated. She started peeling at the tape holding the paper together. Whatever it was, Deeks knew it would be creative; he’d learned very quickly that Rosa gifted from the heart and usually with her artistic side in mind.

“I know it’s not for a couple more days, but I wanted to give it to you early. I hope you like it.”

“Oh my god, this is gorgeous,” Kensi gasped as she let the wrapping paper fall away. She ran her fingers over the smooth mahogany stained wood. Across the front surface two raccoons with their noses pressed together were engraved in the very middle, set against a backdrop of trees.

“I know it might be kind of silly—”

“No, it’s perfect,” Deeks interrupted, glancing up from the gift. He held out an arm, pulling her into his side. Kensi wrapped her free arm around Rosa too. “Thanks you so much.”

“It’s really beautiful.”

“Actually, it’s not your only gift. Did you have any specific plans for your anniversary?”

“Uh, dinner here, and then falling asleep to Titanic?” Deeks suggested. He did have a gift for Kensi, but the last few months had taught them that planning for outings were best left flexible and without too much expectation.

“Why, did you have something else in mind?” Kensi asked.

Rosa folded her hands together, looking unusually timid. “Uncle Callen and Sam and I might have orchestrated a little surprise. We made reservations for you at your favorite sushi restaurant and then booked an Air BnB nearby for two days.”

“Rosa…” Kensi shook her head, and Rosa hurried to explain,

“You don’t have to stay overnight if you don’t want to be away from Caleb and Sophia that long, but I thought it would be nice for you to get away for a little bit.”

Deeks pressed his lips together, feeling the prick of tears building behind his eyes, overwhelmed by Rosa’s love for them.

“Rosa, that is so incredibly generous of you,” Kensi said, hugging her again.

“You deserve a break,” Rosa said simply, as if it wasn’t a big deal. Her excitement growing, she dove back into her backpack, and came back with a large envelope. “This has all the plans and reservations. If you do decide to go, Sam and I will take turns watching Sophia and Caleb.”

“That’s asking an awful lot of you.”

“You didn’t ask me to do anything,” she pointed out. “I’m offering, and I want to.”

“Man, we sure are lucky. Thank you,” Deeks murmured, pressing a kiss to Rosa’s forehead.

“Like you said, any time.”

***

“That was phenomenal,” Kensi sighed, dropping onto the bed in the master bedroom of their Air BnB with a graceless flop. She’d forgotten what it was like to enjoy a meal without any interruptions, to hold a conversation that didn’t involve at least one break for a diaper change or feeding. Of course she missed Caleb and Sophia, but she couldn’t deny the reprieve was nice. “But I might die.”

She looked up at Deeks, who had come in more slowly with their few bags. He grinned, tugging the first couple buttons of his shirt open. For once, he’d dressed up, choosing a deep blue shirt that matched her dress. He looked amazing, but she knew he was probably dying to get into something more casual.

“I’m saying nothing,” he said, though his smug grin pretty much said it for him.

“I know, I know. I shouldn’t have had that last spicy California. It was just too good.” Sighing, she rolled onto her side, patting the spot next to her, and held out her hand invitingly. “Come join me.”

“I should put our stuff away while I’m up.” He didn’t sound too certain about it though.

“You don’t always have to be so responsible,” Kensi teased. “C’mon, it’ll wait for a few minutes.”

Giving in, Deeks dropped the shirt he’d just pulled out of his suitcase, and slid onto the mattress next to her. He let out a contented groan as he sank into the thick quilt.

“Just a few minutes,” he repeated. They were both asleep in thirty seconds.

***

Kensi woke up with her nose buried in Deeks’ chest, arms loosely wrapped around her back. Untangling her arms, she stretched them above her head, her spine cracking as she arched her back. She felt better rested than she had in months.

“So much for just a few minutes,” Deeks muttered, eyes still closed.

“I think that was the best nap I’ve ever had,” Kensi said. She studied Deeks’ features, brushing back the pieces of hair that had grown more unruly in sleep. He leaned into her touch, one corner of his mouth lifting when she trailed her fingers down his cheeks and neck.

Scooting closer, Kensi pressed her lips to the warm tan skin left exposed by his open shirt. His hand tightened on her back, pulling her that much closer.

“Mm. I’m suddenly wide awake,” he drawled. Kensi pulled back enough to see his eyes were now open and slightly hazed with desire rather than sleep. He cupped the back of her neck, gently guiding her mouth to his.

They’d barely had any times to themselves, let alone the energy to consider sex since the twins were born, but suddenly the desire came back in full force.

Kensi dropped her hands to the front of his shirt, fingers scrabbling over the buttons and to tug the material free from his pants.

“Woah, and here I thought I got lucky with the nap.” Deeks gasped in between kisses.

“Oh, you’re about to get a whole lot more lucky,” Kensi promised, not caring how cheesy it sounded. She rolled Deeks onto his back, crawling up the length of his body, and then settling across his thighs. Hovering over him, she stared down at his flushed face, loving everything about him. “Happy Anniversary, baby.”

Deeks pulled her back to him, and they spent the next few hours making a very enjoyable anniversary.

[basketoffruitis]

fb incorrect quotes

Rin: Haru... Why did you draw a pentagram on the floor?

Haru: Your text told me to satanize the house before you returned. Rin: Rin: I wrote sanitize, Haru.

Rin: Haru was banned from the chicken shack, so we had to go out of town to get some. Haru: Well, they shouldn’t say “all you can eat” if they don’t mean it. Rin: Haru, you ate a chair.

Mine, struggling to keep upright in her 1 inch heels: Yeah, I-I don’t really think heels are for me Ayame, pointing at her and walking flawlessly in sparkly golden 6 inch heels: WEAK.

Shigure: I really like this whole ‘good guy, bad guy’ thing you guys have going on. Kyo: It’s not an act, it’s just that I’m mean and Tohru isn’t

Rin: Are you the big spoon or the little spoon? Kyo: I'm a knife. Tohru, from across the room: He’s the little spoon.

Store Worker: Would a Ms, Rin please come to the front desk? Rin, arriving at the desk: Hello, is there a problem? Store Worker: points to Haru and Momiji Store Worker: I believe they belong to you? Haru and Momiji, simultaneously: We got lost :( Rin: I didn’t even bring you guys here with me-

Kyo: Who the fuck added me to a fucking group chat? Tohru : >:O language Yuki: Yeah watch your fucking language Haru: OKAY WHO TAUGHT YUKI THE FUCK WORD? Rin : 'The fuck word'. Momiji: Are you stupid? You guys use the f word all the time Yuki: Oh my god they censored it Rin : Say fuck, Momiji. Haru: Do it, Momiji. Say fuck.

Kyo: Rules are made to be broken. Yuki: They were made to be followed. Nothing is made to be broken. Haru: Uh, piñatas. Momiji: Glow sticks. Tohru: Karate boards. Rin: Spaghetti when you have a small pot. Kyo: Rules. Yuki:

Kyo: *Posts a super low-quality image to the group chat* Yuki: If I had a dollar for every pixel in this image, I’d have 15 cents Kyo: If I had a dollar for every ounce of rage I felt in my body after I read this text, I would have enough money to buy a cannon to fire at you Haru: Actually I did the math, Yuki would have $225, not $0.15. Yuki: I’m right here.... Momiji: If I had a dollar I would buy a can of soda :) Kyo: while you’re there could you buy me an apply juice please? Momiji: Sorry I only have a dollar Kyo: fuck u Haru: Hey I just realized my friend is right, Yuki would have $22,500 because it's a dollar for every pixel, not a cent Momiji: If I had $22,500 I would buy a can of soda and an apply juice Haru: You can buy anything you want with $22,500 Tohru: Yeah and they want soda and apply juice Haru: Apply juice to what Rin: Directly to the forehead Yuki: Great chat everyone

Tohru: Rin, can I talk to you for a second? Rin: Yeah, what’s up? Lemme guess. You and Kyo are having problems and you want me to teach you how to kiss? Tohru: What? No, stop that. I know how to kiss. I’ve read books.

Rin: You're the love of my life and my best friend, I would do anything for you. Tohru: I want you to eat three meals a day and have a decent sleep schedule. Rin: Absolutely not.

Kakeru: *Accidentally hits Yuki in the face* Kakeru: *Trying to decide between saying 'I’m fucking sorry' and 'Are you okay'* Kakeru: ARE YOU FUCKING SORRY?! Yuki : What’s wrong with you?!

Kakeru: I made tea. Yuki : I don’t want tea. Kakeru: I did not make tea for you. This is my tea. Yuki : Then why are you telling me? Kakeru: It is a conversation starter. Yuki : That’s a lousy conversation starter. Kakeru: Oh, is it? We are conversing. Checkmate.

Haru: *Kicks the door down looking panicked* Yuki : What did you do? Haru: Nobody died. Yuki : WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT?!

Yuki: Haru... Haru: Oh no, 'Haru' in b-flat. Haru: You're disappointed.

Rin: You often use humor to deflect trauma Haru: Thank you Momiji: She didn't say that was a good thing Haru: What I'm hearing is, you both think I'm funny

Haru: I wasn’t that drunk last night. Momiji: You were flirting with Rin Haru: So what? She’s my partner. Momiji: You asked her if her were single. Haru: Momiji: And then you cried when she said she weren't.

Rin: We need a distraction. Haru: Is anyone here good at jumping up and down and making weird noises? Momiji, whispering: My time has come

Hatori: This is such a bad idea. Shigure: Then why are you coming along? Hatori: One of us need to be able to talk the cops out of arresting us when this inevitably goes wrong.

Shigure: How's the sexiest person here~? Hatori: I don't know- Ayame, from across the room: I'm doing great, thanks!

Hatori, driving Haru and Momiji: So how was your day? Momiji: We almost got surprise adopted! Hatori: What? Haru: We almost got kidnapped. Hatori: Oh, okay. Hatori: *slams on the breaks* WAIT WHAT?!

[dreadsuitsamus]

Hi! Can I request a human!reader teaching Goku how to cook so he can impress Chi-Chi? I love to cook myself, so I thought it'd be a cute idea!

Bone App the Teeth | Goku & Reader |

author's note: i was actually in the process of writing a goku fic when i got this request! i also happen to think it's a cute idea and absolutely love the idea of goku and the reader being old pals spending an afternoon together to get goku out of the doghouse :p i hope you don't mind i added a slight bit of vegeta x reader as a background pairing to add more to the story!

pairing: goku &fem!reader (it's platonic!) vegeta x fem!reader, goku x chi-chi

warnings: goku being a terribly cute student, vegeta being a little jealous, small mention of trying for pregnancy, in general just some fluff between two old friends!

You're reading on the couch when you get Goku's phone call. He's speaking incredibly fast and fumbling his words, which sounds alarm bells in your head. It can't be something super serious, after all, since you would definitely not be the first person he'd call for help. You set aside your book and take a deep breath.

"GOKU!" You yell, succeeding in getting him to stop talking for a moment.

"Why'd you yell at me?" He whines pathetically.

"So I could tell you to slow down and start over!"

"Oh, sorry about that!" Goku laughs and then sighs. "I really need your help."

"Tell me what's up."

From there Goku launches into a tale of what essentially boils down to him needing a way back into Chi-Chi's good graces after an incident the night before. He didn't go super in detail, but to you it sounded like he'd gone and ruined dinner last night with his ravenous Saiyan appetite, and he wanted to make it up to his dear wife.

Only problem was, he had no idea how to cook.

"So that's where you come in!" Goku says, and you can literally hear that big smile on his face. "So whaddya say? Can you help me?"

"Of course I will!" You smile. "Come on over and-"

"I'm here!" Goku now stands in front of you, hands on his hips and his eyes smiling, no doubt excited to make up his mistake to Chi-Chi.

You scream, holding your hand to your chest. "Goku! You can't just-"

There's the sound of shouting from outside, and then Vegeta is suddenly in the living room. "Who the hell dares attack my w- Oh, it's Kakarot." He scowls, arms crossed over his chest.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya!" Goku rubs the back of his neck. "Hey best buddy!" He waves at Vegeta.

"No." Vegeta glares at Goku. "Why are you in my house?"

You stand up, your heart back to a normal beat. "I'm teaching him how to cook, sweetie. Would you like to join us?"

"Tch. I'll pass." Vegeta turns and heads out to resume his training. You shake your head and pat Goku's arm and lead him to the kitchen.

"So, when do you think you'd wanna make this meal for Chi-Chi?"

"As soon as possible!" Goku says. "I wanna make something she'll love."

"Hmm..." You put a curled finger to your lip, thumb pressed to your chin as you consider something that you know your longtime friend loves. "Last time she and I went out with Bulma, we went to this really nice restaurant and she tried something called 'chicken cordon bleu' and she said she really, really liked it."

"Chicken what?"

"Cordon bleu." You repeat. "It's a simple dish that I think you'll be able to make just fine! It's chicken wrapped around ham and cheese, which is then breaded and fried or baked. I've had it a several times before myself and it really is a tasty dish."

"Then let's get to it!"

You smile softly. "Alright, let me make sure I've got everything we'll need first."

You hum softly and start looking through your refrigerator and cupboards, Goku scratching his head as you pull more and more out onto the kitchen island. "I thought you said this was simple."

"It is, I promise. Most of this is just seasoning that's gonna make it taste better."

Goku grins. "In that case, the more the merrier!"

"That's the spirit." You chuckle and fish out everything else, happy that you didn't have to lug Goku to the grocery store. (Or worse, be instant transmissioned there with him.)

"First, we wash our hands." You remove your wedding ring and set it aside, and Goku washes his hands right after you. "And now we'll prep our chicken."

As you show Goku how to properly clean and prep the chicken thighs you had tucked in the fridge, Vegeta peeks inside through the window above the sink, a frown on his face. He sees your wedding ring off to the side and scoffs. He knew he should've gotten you one with a larger diamond...

He swears to himself and flies away, angrily punching a tree before going into the training room Bulma had built for him in your backyard. (In actuality she'd built it for you, knowing full well how irritating her ex could be at times so you could shoo him away to train when he was on your nerves.)

Back into the kitchen, you've just laid a piece of plastic wrap over one of the pieces of chicken. "Okay, you'll probably like this part. The chicken is too thick to roll up, so we need to take this little meat mallet and flatten it out."

"Oh, I can do that easily!" Goku picks up the mallet and smacks it against the poor piece of chicken, splitting it in half. "Uh... Oops?"

You rub your forehead. "Not so hard, Goku."

You set him up to try again, and this time he tones down his strength and flattens the chicken with the mallet until you stop him. He smiles, proud of his handiwork, and repeats the process until there's no more chicken to flatten.

"You've always been a quick study." You comment fondly and clean up the island to move to the next step, encouraging him to add some more seasoning to the kitchen while you set up the ham and swiss cheese.

"This part here is probably the hardest thing about the recipe, and it's still super easy."

Goku nods and his eyes are trained on your hands after he's washed and dried his again. You lay out two layers of ham and cheese and then carefully pinch in the sides of the chicken and roll it up, leaving the seam side down against the plate. "After we roll them up we'll bread them and get them in the oven."

"Okay!" Goku smiles and attempts rolling one up himself, but some of the filling ends up sticking out. You unroll it and put your hands over his, helping him to keep it all together like the one you had previously rolled. "Keep it neat, Goku. Presentation matters!"

"I guess that's true." He concedes. "Chi-Chi makes the most delicious looking food! And it smells good... But most of all, it tastes good!"

"And that's why we're gonna give all three of those qualities right back!" Goku's smile makes you laugh, your chest light and mind at ease. You always loved having one-on-one time with your friend.

You wash your hands again while Goku very carefully rolls all the chicken up, setting up the breadcrumbs and mixing them with paprika, and then adding some water to beaten eggs. Goku's just finished with his latest step and instinctively washes his hands, rushing back to the island and bouncing with eagerness.

"How much left?"

"Almost there, buddy. Now we're gonna dip them into this egg mixture and roll it in the breadcrumbs after, and after that they go into the baking dish!"

"Chi-Chi's gonna love this." Goku smiles and takes initiative this time, picking up a piece of the chicken and dipping it in the eggs. You instruct him to let some of the excess drip off and then switch hands to roll in the breadcrumbs.

"A wet hand and a dry hand is the best way to bread something. It keeps things as clean as possible." You explain, greasing a casserole dish. "Maybe next time we make this I'll teach you how to pan-fry, but today we'll stick with baking the chicken."

"Oooh, getting stronger in the kitchen? I like the sound of that."

You laugh and the two of you finish prepping the meal in a companionable silence. You think back to when you met Goku all those years ago. You'd reunited with Chi-Chi, an old friend you hadn't seen since childhood, and learned that she was married to none other than the boy she was adamant was going to marry her even back in the day. Goku was looking around, undoubtedly bored, and complaining about being hungry. That's when you'd invited them over for dinner, and ever since then Goku would come over for a meal anytime he was hungry after Chi-Chi had closed down the kitchen for the night.

"Thank you for doing this." Goku says softly after he's washed his hands for the last time. "You're really helping me out here. You're always here when I need you. You're really the best."

You smile at your old friend. "You've saved the world countless times, Goku. I'll help you with anything, cooking or not, anytime. Hell, you're the reason Vegeta and I got together. I basically owe you the whole world for that alone."

Vegeta, who has come back to listen at the window after being unable to focus on his training, crosses his arms and smirks proudly. For all the times you roll your eyes, mutter things under your breath and ignore him as he rants about his Saiyan pride... You still find him worth more than the world. With that, he stands and strides into the kitchen and grabs your waist, pulling you in and pressing a firm kiss to your temple before striding right back to train, this time his mind clear.

You raise a brow, and Goku can't help but laugh. "I don't wanna throw him under the bus, but..."

"He was listening at the window." You conclude, shaking your head fondly.

Goku helps you wash dishes and the two of you trade stories you've both heard hundreds of times before, laughing so much that Goku has to catch you from falling onto the floor at one point. You wipe your eyes, body still shaking from laughter, and then dry your hands, clearing your throat.

"Alright, now we'll make the sauce for the chicken and make some rice, and then you should be good to go."

You set Goku up to grate the parmesan and you fix the rice up in the rice cooker, and with some dijon mustard, butter, flour and milk, you help Goku make a lovely sauce. You get some on a spoon and hold it out to Goku, whose eyes light up at the flavor. "Man, you never stop amazing me with your skills!"

"I'd hope not, since I used to be a chef." You laugh.

"I've been meaning to ask why you stopped." Goku sits on one of the island stools while you start fixing up a quick pot of green beans.

You chop up a bit of bacon and onions, adding them to the pot with some garlic. "Well, for starters, I was just so stressed and tired all the time, which was fine when I was single. But then when I got married and became a step-mother it just wasn't working well anymore. When I'd get home, I'd start arguing with Vegeta and it wasn't healthy for our marriage, not to mention I wasn't getting much quality time with Trunks. Plus, I wasn't getting to go to birthday parties or holiday gatherings anymore since I started working at my last restaurant. And when Vegeta said he was wanting to have kids..."

Goku's eyes widen. "Wait, really? Vegeta wants another kid?"

You smile softly. "He does. I'm sure Trunks would love a sibling."

"That's really great!" Goku grins. "I'm happy for you guys."

"Thanks, Goku. Not pregnant yet, but we're working on it." You add some tomatoes and then the green beans to the pot, stirring and then leaving it to simmer. You turn and sit on another stool, opening a drawer on the island and pulling out a game of cards.

"It'll be some time before everything is ready, so why don't we play your favorite card game?"

Goku gasps. "Yes, I love Go Fish!"

You laugh and deal the cards out, and after a few games (poor Goku never stands a chance against you) you pack up his meal to take home to Chi-Chi and Goten. "You're all set, bub."

Before he teleports home, Goku gives you one last hug, and you smile and hug your friend back tightly. He presses a quick kiss to your head and pulls back, picking up the containers and within a flash, he's back home to set up for Chi-Chi.

You're in bed with Vegeta that night when you get Goku's next phone call.

"She loved it!"

[albusthefakepitbull]

just scrolling your blog a bit and stumbled across a post asking about Sensitive Tummy Foods. i work at a training kennel so trialing tummy issues has been much of my life so i was going to pitch a bunch of stuff i've seen work in my experience, but for me the first thing i think of if a dog is consistently having runny shits is phasing out chicken-based foods. mild allergies to chicken can be pretty common, and so can beef allergies ngl. you mentioned using nulo, and we actually tried a pair of standard poodles in our guide dog program on nulo because they had a round of giardia as puppies and their stomachs have been fried ever since, and on nulo one of the boys managed to shit UP a wall, so don't worry lol you're not the only one with adverse experiences on that kibble lol

1. we had a lot of success with inukshuk. it's expensive so it's not the only option i'll throw at you, but it's a performance kibble with a higher calorie density and i've seen a lot of dogs do well on it. my personal dog is on inukshuk marine 16 because his gastrointestinal system does horrible things when in contact with chicken, it's probably the best kibble i've given him. if you have an inukshuk distributor in your area the price can halve though so i'd shop around and see if anyone has The Goods

2. pumpkin is a classic belly calming potion, if it's just mildish diarrhea you might have some success just adding a tablespoon of pumpkin puree to meals. propectalin is also a useful supplement for tummy issues and my life would be unlivable without it, it's expensive which sucks but it lasts a while. vets actually prescribe propectalin for dogs with IBS which is so funny to me like you can get it cheaper than prescription of amazon this is like doggie pepto bismol. in my experience propectalin has worked better as a probiotic than fortiflora does, but fortiflora does have a marked effect, and is a good compromise for price. we also used probios, which is definitely effective particularly for dogs with highly explosive stomach issues resistant to everything else; it's a probiotic designed originally for livestock with some combinations blended specifically for dogs. the people hocking goats' milk are dumb though lol. goats' milk does not help in most cases, it can increase inflammation in the GI tract which is the last thing you want for a Shitter On The Loose

NOTE: if you find your boy has issues with beef, DO NOT give propectalin, it has beef in it. you will have a bad day. learn from my mistakes

3. one thing to play with are organ meats. sometimes diarrhea isn't always Belly Inflammation but an imbalance of nutrition, and sometimes an easy fix is picking up some chicken hearts or dried sheep liver and playing a bit. i won't wade into raw food discourse here, but as a warning, if you do take this advice in the direction of purchasing raw items, just know that most dogs have slightly looser stools on a raw diet compared to a kibble only diet, so if you do transition and you're like wtf? that's a pretty normal thing

and random only somewhat related doggie supplement advice i'm pitching just because it's cool: B12 is more effective as a calming supplement than CBD or melatonin. i kinda think most calming supplements are total bullshit but B12 is effective ime not because it provides an innate calming effect but because it addresses a nutritional issue that leads to that effect. as a human i personally start seeing the hat man if i forget to address a particular nutrient so i understand, puppies.

anyway i hope some of this helps your poor teenage mal and his belly troubles! wishing u and ur pups the best and i hope my phd in dog shit can be of assistance to you

i’m saving this for future use thank you for all the info :)