#because I started cleaning up baking supplies

[tj-crochets]

I interrupt my quilt updates to bring you cookies! They are salted chocolate chunk cookies and they are delicious

[geckoomoria]

Best friends older brother! Anakin x reader Drabble

fluff with some kissing, touching and stuff like that😇

( i have no idea who came up with the bsf anakin idea i read it somewhere , so plspls let me know and ill give credit !!)

also GB/N stands for girl bsf name.

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Friday August 15th

approx 9:25pm

“ANI IF YOU DONT PLACE EM RIGHT , THEYLL BE RUINED” you whine as your (secret) boyfriend wasn’t putting his back into making the dessert you two planned for the movie night as much as you were.

Anakin places cookie blobs on the tray and you shape them to look like actual cookies

“How the fuck do you place it wrong, its just putting them on the tray ” he replies countering your complaint about his skills at baking.

“ugh you don- back up back up, i’ll do it myself. You just sit there and look pretty” you huff and push him to sit on the stool that overlooks the kitchen table.

“see now THAT i can do just perfectly” Anakin winks and lets out a chuckle at his own comment as he sits down on the stool.

as the two of you stay in the kitchen , placing the tray of cookies into the oven , a call comes from your home phone.

You pick up the phone but dont answer , looking at the name you hesitate to answer. The ringing echos for a few minutes, “whats wrong? who is it?” Anakin asks curiously.

“its uh- its GB/N” , He stares at you softly understanding your hesitation. “what do i tell her if she asks where i am?”

he comes up with the excuse of “just say your busy thats all” , nodding at his idea you answer the phone.

“Hey whats up?” , “ah nothing much , just wanted to see if your free. are you?”. “not tonight sorry GB/N, got tons of homework.”

Anakin smirks at your excuse of doing “so much homework”. Suddenly an idea springs into his head, he makes his way behind you and starts cleaning up the baking supplies, waiting for the right moment to pounce.

“ah its alright , we’ll go out another night. Man how is everyone busy but me!? even Anakin went out at 5 and still isn’t back!”

“Anakin still isn’t back and he left at 5? i wonder where he could be” you say trying to make it sound like you dont have a clue where he could be.

This was his moment.

Anakins arm snakes around your waist and travels your whole body , the sudden touch makes you gasp but right away you shut up to avoid suspicions.

“what happened?? why’d you gasp?” she asks on the other side of the phone. You clear your throat and let him continue with his little ruse.

“uh- umm nothing , sorry thought i saw a spider. it was just a piece of lint” you say sounding unsure but you could care less anyways. Anakin was distracting you too much.

His deep chuckle is heard prominently from your other ear as he rests his head on that shoulder.

“ew , but yeah Anakin’s still not back! he said he had some important business to attend to but that just makes him sound like a serial killer” she replies.

Absolutely none of her words registered properly into your head because Anakin kept going on with his little game. His giant arms travelled down to your thighs and just teasing your inner thighs as he takes his thumbs and gently grazes it back and forth.

His lips kiss your neck from behind , slow and one kiss at a time, making you yearn for more on the inside.

“i- i uh wouldn- wouldnt worry much abo- about him. He’s a ye-year old-older thannn uss so he-hes doing teenage boy th-things” you stumble on your words barley able to form a proper sentence. How could you? you were so drunk on Anakin. You needed him more than anything but you couldn’t blow your cover, not this early to your GB/N.

“are you sure your okay?” you sound really out of it” she questions your odd behaviour, concerned about what’s possibly going on , on the other side of the phone.

Anakin takes his sisters suspicions as a loud ringing bell that tells him to continue. His arms move from your upper thighs to inside your shirt. His hands move to your bra and fiddle with the outline of it

“ye-yeah , im uh perfect-ly fine” You gulp half way through what you could finish of that sentence.

“are you absolutely sure cau- i think im not feeling well. ill talk to you tomorrow after i get some sleep?”

You cut her off because you genuinely cant deal with the embarrassment of trying not to make it sound like your enjoying your boyfriend who happens to be her older brother straight up groping you right now

“yeah yeah sounds good , get some rest N/N. love you” , “yeah goodnight , Love you too”.

The call ends and you immediately (attempt to) smack Anakin on the head

“Ani! what the hell was that for. were you trying to get us in trouble ??” you scold the brown haired male for his antics. “At this point i dont care if the world knew we’re together, God i cant stop myself from being near you N/N”

“you dont mean that Anakin” you weakly say as you turn around and look down from his gaze.

Even though you two always liked it each other secretly and then finally fessed up not that long ago. You still had doubts about your relationship and Anakin has tried everything he could to prove himself. Its not that you dont trust him, its that you feel unsure about the whole sneaking around thing.

He pushes your chin up with two fingers “of course i do. i always have meant it” he sternly claims as he presses his forehead against yours.

the two of you stay quiet for a moment.

“Maybe soon okay? i just need to figure out how to tell her” you propose meekly to Anakin hoping he’ll be okay with it, “whenever your ready baby.” he replies with ease.

You couldn’t believe your dating the most perfect man of all time. The man only poets write about , the man women fawn over and men get intimidated of. The man of your dreams is holding you in his arms reassuring you of anything you want.

its a dream come true.

You pull back from the forehead touching and lean in for a deep kiss with him. Nothing could pull you two apart, not now and not ever.

Ding!

well except for the oven and the cookies you two made.

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why was this acc so long omg.

i hope u liked ittt my babes💕

PLEADE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD LEAVE THINGS JN MY LITTLE QUESTION BOX ANYTHING I NEED SOME SORT OF NOTICE THAT YOUR THERE.

also follow meee , i followw backk🥲

[sailortongue]

"Baking with my boyfriend!"

pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

wc: 1.6k

summary: you run a popular baking vlog, and after a Q&A video where you said your boyfriend helped you eat all the delicious things you baked, the people demanded a bf reveal

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“Hi guys!” You waved at the camera enthusiastically. “In honor of the upcoming fall season, today I’m going to be showing you how to bake pumpkin bread!” You were practically sunshine incarnate when you were filming for your viewers, but today was special and you were even more cheery than usual.

The last video you did was a Q&A and apparently many viewers were very curious about what you do with all the baked goods you make because surely you don't eat all of that yourself. You’d laughed, pleased to tell them that you share everything with your lovely boyfriend, and, if you made a particularly large batch of something, then he’d take them to work for his coworkers.

You hadn’t thought much of it, but when you read through the comments it was flooded with requests for a boyfriend reveal. You’d immediately called Spencer into the living room, excitedly asking him if he’d film a video with you. How could he possibly say no to you when you were looking at him with those pleading eyes? He caved embarrassingly quickly, but frankly he’d do anything if it meant that beautiful smile would continue to be directed at him.

And so here you were, standing in your kitchen with Spencer and getting the ingredients and supplies assembled. Now, as much as you loved him, there was a reason he’d never been in one of your videos before: that man was a klutz in the kitchen. For all his intelligence, he couldn't bake a cake to save his life.

Spencer, bless his heart, had neglected to place the eggs in a bowl and accidentally knocked one off the counter, sending it to splat onto the floor. You glanced at the cracked egg slowly seeping across the floor and then back up to Spencer, a grin teasing the edge of your lips. He did the same as you, and as you both made eye contact the tension broke, both of you bursting into laughter.

“I’ll clean it up,” he said sheepishly. “And get another egg.”

You chuckled and continued with your instructions. “Once Spence gets that taken care of, then we’ll have everything we need to start. As usual, we’re going to preheat the oven while we prepare everything. This particular recipe says 325℉ but if any of you would like to bake this at home, there is a note at the bottom of the recipe. It says that if you're using a one pound loaf pan instead of a 9x5, then it may come out underbaked, and if you feel like you need to add more time to it then you should bake at 350℉ instead.”

You felt Spencer’s presence return to your side, this time placing the eggs in a bowl to prevent any more mishaps. He bent down and kissed the top of your head as his way of apologizing. You reciprocated the action and got on your tippy toes to kiss his chin since it was the closest you could get.

Continuing with the recipe, you put Spencer in charge of the streusel topping since it was the most straight forward. You were confident that even with his lacking baking skills he’d be able to do it. You were promptly proven wrong.

“Wow, I’m impressed,” you said.

“Really?” he asked excitedly, ever eager to please you.

“Very. I think you got more flour on the counter than in the bowl.”

He threw his head back and groaned. “Oh come on, it's not that bad.”

“Whatever you say, hun. Can you put it in the fridge?”

He nodded, and you turned your attention back to the camera. “And now for the star of the show we’re going to start on the batter!” As you spoke animatedly and explained every step of the process, Spencer was watching you with rapt attention, a small smile fixed on his face.

Occasionally you’d ask him to measure out some of the ingredients and put them in. You’d had to correct him that the brown sugar had to be packed in, but other than that there was no way he could mess up. The only notable thing that happened was his insistence on tasting the vanilla extract. How could something that smelled so good taste so bad? He was going to learn the hard way and there was nothing you could do to spare the stubborn man. You had practically doubled over with laughter when his expression instantly changed to one of profound disgust. He rushed to the kitchen sink, trying in vain to spit out the vile liquid.

He was positively green when he looked back over at you. “Why would you let me do that?”

Taking pity on him, you poured him a glass of water and handed it to him. “Here, swish.”

He took it gratefully and did as you said. “Thank you. Lesson learned. Vanilla extract is a liar.”

“Would stirring make it better?” you asked, offering the whisk to him.

“No, but licking the batter might.”

You shrugged, “Your loss.”

With your attention back on the camera, Spencer took the opportunity to stand behind you, placing his hands on your hips and watching you mix the dry ingredients into the wet ones from over your shoulder. He took advantage of the close proximity and placed a tender kiss on your temple. You were practically melting on the spot at how domestic everything felt.

“Ok, so with that all mixed up the next thing we have to do is pour it into a greased loaf pan and then sprinkle the streusel on top.” You turned your face to the side, “Hey, hun, can you get the streusel from the fridge?” He hummed in affirmation, leaving you to pour the batter, intentionally leaving a bit more than you usually would to make up for Spencer’s unfortunate experience with the vanilla.

He resumed his position at the counter, standing next to you this time. He was eyeing the bowl with the leftover batter, being very obvious about what he wanted. You giggled. “Trade?” Without a word, he snatched the bowl and handed you the cold one with the topping. As you were sprinkling it onto the top, Spencer was busying himself with licking the spatula.

“Perfect!” you exclaimed when you were done. “Now all that’s left is to put it in the oven for an hour and twenty minutes.” After closing the oven door, you turned to see Spencer scraping more of the batter from the bowl and onto the spatula. You also noticed that some of it was smeared around the corners of his lips. You huffed a breath out through your nose, finding him utterly adorable. You grabbed a rag from the drawer and ran it under the faucet. You walked over to Spencer and he spoke before you could do anything. “If the batter is anything to go by, then the bread will be delicious.”

“Of course it will. I think it'll be one of the best, just because you helped me with it.” He beamed at you. “That was cheesy, but cute.”

“C’mere,” you said, placing your hand on his cheek and adjusting his face so he’d look straight at you. You brought up the hand with the wet rag, wiping his face. He laughed and took the rag from you, using it to clean the stickiness from his hands as well.

Now that there was nothing to do but wait for the pumpkin bread to finish baking, you stopped recording and set about cleaning the mess you two had made.

With both of you working together, the kitchen was pristine in no time. You decided you’d go ahead and start editing the footage you already had, and by the time you had it looking as aesthetic as always, the oven timer went off. You gasped excitedly, hopping off the couch where you were sitting next to Spencer. You quickly slipped on a pair of oven mitts and took it out to cool.

Thirty minutes later and you began recording again. “I wish y’all could smell my kitchen right now,” you started. “Smells so good. Like cinnamon and pumpkin goodness.”

You cut two slices of the loaf, one for each of you. Spencer took a bite before you did and groaned. “It's so good,” he said.

“Better than the batter?” you teased.

“Definitely.”

You took your own bite and reacted just as he had. It really was tasty. “10/10. You guys should definitely make this at home! It’s perfectly moist and pumpkin-y and the streusel topping adds a lot of texture. I hope you all enjoyed this video and I’ll see you next time! Bye!” You waved at the camera before stopping the footage.

There wasn’t much editing that needed to be done since the second take was just a review of the dessert, so you had the video uploaded shortly after, titling it "Baking with my boyfriend!"

You were both splitting a second slice when you started getting notifications on the video. Spencer placed the plate down on the coffee table and got comfy next to you, putting his arm around you and pulling you close. You leaned into his side and opened the app to read the incoming comments.

“#relationshipgoals”

“You two are so cute!”

“Does he have a twin brother? 👀”

“Can we reply?” asked Spencer. You nodded and handed him your phone.

“Does he have a twin brother? 👀”

“Sorry, @user but no, I don’t.”

“Homeboy is so down bad”

“According to Yn, that means I’m infatuated with her. Yes, I am.”

“Omg his HANDS”

“Thank you? I guess?”

You laughed at his reply to the comment about his hands.

“Did yall see the way they look at each other? 🥺”

“Lmao see if he’ll try cacao powder”

Spencer looked at you after reading the cacao powder comment. “Is cacao powder also a liar?”

You shook your head. “Nope. It tastes just like chocolate.”

[ilovehimyourhonour]

hiii! can i request riki with prompt 41, if thats okay? thank you!!!

end live

📂 bf! idol! nishimura riki x idol! fem! reader . youre baking cookies and niki worries for your safety. mentions of broken glass?? , reader is portrayed as a female and is apart of a kpop group , wasnt proofread. inspo — prompt 41: them having a moment when their lover drops a glass, checking them over for injuries .

navigation

Sometimes you hate yourself for making promises, and right now was one of those times.

Yesterday, in the spur of the moment, you had promised your fans a live. But now, you wanted nothing more than to stay where you sat—your boyfriend’s head nuzzled in your lap as he pretends to watch the drama playing on the tv.

“Ni-ki,” you mutter. Nothing. “Ni-ki?” You place your hand on your boyfriends forehead, attempting to turn his head to face you.

His eyes are hooded, sleep practically begging to take over. “Hmm?”

“I gotta get up, baby.” He simply nods, aware of the promise you made to your fans—mostly because he heard you groan about it all day. “You can sleep,” you smile at him once your off the couch. He lays back down across the cushions and you crouch next to him.

“Wake me up when your done, I want you to play with my hair again.” You cant help but grin wider, you hum softly and press a delicate kiss to his forehead.

As you gathered your baking supplies you had the live propped up and streaming, the viewer number grew with each second, comments flooding in—fan’s greeting, asking questions, and proclaiming their love for you and your group. As you measured and mixed ingredients you mindlessly spoke anything that popped into your head, recent schedules and upcoming events your group would be partaking in—and once you had nothing left to say you started humming songs produced by your group.

As you placed the cookie pan into the oven three of your group members enter the kitchen, happily throwing themselves into the live stream. They read and answer questions and complement the smell emitting from the oven.

“She’s our little baker,” one of them grins as she scans the comments, looking for another subject or question to read aloud.

“Hey, did you know your boy-” the final missing member enters the kitchen, her thumb pointed over her shoulder—directing to the living room, where Ni-ki laid asleep on the couch. You casually take a step out of the camera’s view, a finger coming to your lips and your leader catches the hint. “Did you know your baking is really good? Smells incredible.” She chuckles rather awkwardly as she appears on screen and peers over the other girl’s shoulders, trying to get a glimpse at the comments—hoping no one had caught her nearly slip up.

Once the cookies come from the oven you place all but one onto a glass decorative plate, the five of you devour the warm sweets and the girls return to their respective lives. You wave them each goodbye and begin cleaning up the mess you had made throughout the whole process. As you wipe the counter directly in front of the camera you seem to forget the glass mixing bowls close proximity, your elbow bumps against the side—sending the bowl plummeting to the floor, barely missing your feet as it shatters. You automatically jump backwards, trying to avoid cutting your feet.

A soft thud is heard from the next room and a figure comes flying into the kitchen, and the figure just so happens to me the Nishimura Riki. Just your luck. As he steps into frame he falters in his steps as he takes in the location of the broken glass. He eventually takes a risk and steps into a spot he hopes there isn’t any hidden shards.

“Are you okay?” He worries, his hands coming to cup your cheeks, eyes flickering over your face and all the way down to your feet. “Did you get cut?” He frowns at your silence. “Sweetheart? Please answer me.”

“The lives still going,” your voice is barely a whisper, but you feel his tender touch stiffen. He slowly peers over towards the phone, still propped up and recording. Why hadn’t the company shut it down the moment he stepped into the shot?

The picture on the screen was the two of you, him cradling your face as the two of you glance at the screen. Comments flood in faster than ever before as you pull yourself from Ni-ki’s hold.

“See you guys…um…next time.” You smile awkwardly, casting Ni-ki a glance before turning back to the screen. A comment catches your attention as you click the end live button.

Now we know who she saved that cookie for.

© ilovehimyourhonour

[heartfullofleeches]

God I really need random blurb of Pin to quench my fluff thirst of him (and ideas). Speaking of Pin, can he eat? like, can he munch down the foods or just straight up swallow everything like a black hole

[They do have a mouth technically - how they eat will remain a mystery. Here's a blurb with my favorite Yan doll and reader who likes to bake/throw parties]

-

"Sorry... I can't make it."

"Maybe next time?"

"I'm sure others will show."

If only they had let you know sooner.... Or at all.

You always took the smallest thing into accountability when planning. Work schedules, events with family, the weather. You found the perfect day when all of your friends should have been free and sent the invites out a week in advance on the cutest little cards you found on your last trip the supply store. A couple of them had excitedly messaged you about the party, gifting hope soon to be crushed as you sat alone at the dinner table piled with cakes and cookies, and all the other treats you had prepped for their arrival.

You guessed not every adult wanted to visit what was essentially a glorified tea party with no real reason to celebrate, but it would've been nice if they just said that instead of wasting your time and effort. You wouldn't feel as bad if they texted you beforehand, but as always you were left in the dark. They only wanted your skills when it meant something. You were who they called to cater for birthdays and engagement parties - what was the harm in gathering just to see each other?

It sucked, but at least you weren't completely alone.

"At least I still have you, Pin."

The doll's round eyes point down at the large slice of cake on their place, hands posed on either sides of the table. You used the left over ribbon from decorating to make a bow tucked into their hair, keeping their yarn locks parted from their smiling face. Frosted stained their stitched grin from the first time they'd fallen over when you seated them in their chair. It was nice to know someone appreciated your baking - even if they were made of cotton and fabric.

The first to arrive and the only one who stuck around in the end. You found them at the same supply store you bought all of your decorations, but sometimes it felt like they were the one who found you. The oversized almost squashed you when it came tumbling from another prop you'd been checking out. When you couldn't find a price tag and the store owner claimed to never have seen them before, they gave you a fair estimate and you went about your day with a new friend and roommate. Pin had always been there when your friends weren't. You had an entire album full of pictures of your many celebrations together and costumes to match. If there was anyone you could depend on to brighten your day - it was them.

"I'll never leave you!"

Your first smile of the day - all because of the scripted lines of a giant doll. "Thanks, Pin. Glad I can always count on you."

Detangling your fingers from the cord attached to their back, the string pulls once more as you yank your hand away.

"I'm all you'll ever need!"

Your smile falls. "You just might you're right about that.... Well, it's getting pretty late. I should start cleaning up. Enjoy your cake while I do, okay?"

You gather the empty plates and cups on the table, returning them to the cabinets with a heavy heart. Next time will be different. It has to be. You leave Pin in their seat as you change into something more comfortable. Their button eyes follow you from the reflection of a mirror on the wall. While changing, you wonder what to do with the leftovers since there's far too much to eat alone before it all spoils. Reentering the dining room, it would seen that wouldn't be as much of a problem as you thought.

Sprinkles and crumbles coat Pin's face as they hang slumped in their chair. The fork that was once in their hands lies on the floor and their fingers were covered in just as much frosting as their shirt. There was even some on that zipper on their chest you were never able to get down even with pliers. Where an entire cake once sat was now the final envelope from the invite cards you picked up earlier that week. Your name was written in bold lettering on its back along with a little drawing of the missing cake.

"Y/n! Thank you so for always inviting me to your wonderful parties and making me feel like I belong. I wish we could talk more, but I'm a little shy. Your cakes are so delicious, and I'm really sorry your friends didn't come, but that just means more for me! I'm sure they'll come around someday, but if not you know I'll always be around to cheer you up. I love love love you, and appreciate everything you do so please don't ever stop doing what you love.

Sincerely, Pin."

[kennyluvr]

#🪐: main 4 — baking brownies with them

synopsis/concept: baking brownies with the main 4

content warnings: none!

author's note: the thing with ike is partially based of a personal experience LMAO. also i think there's tense inconsistencies but i don't wanna revise smh, so sorry ab that!

kyle broflovski

kyle loves to bake with you whenever it rains, it helps him relax. whenever he starts to hear even a drizzle he calls you to come over😫

you guys rarely use a prepared recipe though, and whatever you use to make it changes every time, since you're just winging it most days and trying a bunch of stuff

and you guys love to add random shit to it, like whatever you can reach, you just grab it and dump it in.

you guys are constantly giggling and yelling so it never gets boring or quiet, it's literally so fun

literally everything is funny to you, like kyle mixed up the flour and the sugar and you both found it hilarious??

you guys also put music on and dance every few minutes, and while you wait for them to finish

and sometimes ike comes into the kitchen and joins you guys, until kyle makes him leave against your protests 😔

once, ike got on the counter somehow and smeared the batter everywhere when you two weren't looking. that's why kyle doesn't let him stay long most of the time anymore

it was so funny because you both thought it was shit 😨

you guys were laughing until your stomachs hurt when you realized, but sheila was NOT amused 💀

tbh it took longer to clean than to make the brownies since you made such a mess, and lowk made it worse.. but cold brownies are better anyway!

stan marsh

stan would literally be so prepared. he has a recipe sheet, all the ingredients, toppings, and supplies all laid out neatly on the counter.

he'll probably want to add some weird ass shit to it too, like marshmallows, or peanut butter

"trust me it'll taste good! i swear, i've had it before. you're gonna thank me later"

and somehow it does turn out good?? 😧

he'll probably get cute matching aprons for both of you omg??

he partially takes the lead, being kind of bossy tbh but we love dominant stan

and he's definitely a perfectionist, like he'll measure everything meticulously. if you add even a drop more of something than the recipe calls to tease him, he'll lowk panic tbh

and if you try to taste the batter he'll probably lecture you about how dangerous it is 😒

"don't do that dumbass, you could get salmonella. or e. coli or something."

before putting it into the oven he'll probably write a cute little note on it for you with a toothpick or something to surprise you 🤭

luckily, you guys finish up fairly quickly, since stan's so neat and organized

eric cartman

unfortunately you're not really baking with him, you're baking for him..

does nothing to help you except tell you how he likes it and how he wants it to be

"um, no y/n. i want more vanilla in it. usually i eat them with a lot of vanilla"

he's kind of excited though, he loves when you do stuff like this for him, it literally makes his heart swell 😓

he'd probably be super close to you all the time to supervise you and shit, hugging your waist closer to him

you do the opposite of what he says sometimes just to bug him, because the look of exasperation on his face is so cute 😕

"oh my god- you stupid FUCK i wanted m&ms. what normal person eats brownies with almonds??" (almond brownies are fire btw)

he's so funny when he gets mad too, and you keep having to stop to catch your breath

but honestly, sometimes, he's not actually upset or mad at what you're doing. he just does it more and exaggerates just because he knows it'll make you laugh, and he loves seeing you smile so widely because of him

he's so impatient too, when they're baking he keeps asking when they're going to be done

when you're finally done, he'll tell you how good they are to justify all the stress he caused 🙏

"see? i told you it would be better with m&m's. and the almonds aren't too bad either, i guess."

kenny mccormick

kenny would agree but he'd be really cautious and scared to do anything

he still tries to make himself as helpful as possible, bringing you everything you need, giving you suggestions or ideas

you have to beat him away with a spoon sometimes because he keeps trying to have all the chocolate 😭

he feels bad that he can't do much, but he doesn't want to accidentally kill himself

so he opts to hinder you support you emotionally as well, just hugging your waist from behind and encouraging you with kisses ☹️

and just like kyle, you guys put on music while baking

but once you knocked over a whole bag of flour dancing, and he was just laughing hysterically 💀

and you yelled at him to help you clean up, but he's writhing on the floor, cackling and coating himself in flour

and then when he's helping you clean, he probably knocks over the batter or something and he starts laughing his ass off again

it ends up taking a while to finish, since you and kenny are both a mess and have to restart tons of times

but eventually, when you finish, he'll probably ask you to take some home for karen and his siblings 😢

[artemis32]

Yandere Eli Jang?

Yandere Eli Jang I

He's so pretty, almost as pretty as Johan

Also we're going to ignore the fact that this has been sitting in my drafts for literally nearly a year - I said I was cleaning out my drafts and that's exactly what I'm doing

art's 21st birthday celebration masterlist

Lookism Masterlist

Firstly anon, you have wonderful taste, Eli is gorgeous. 

Secondly, yandere Eli Jang?? Big brain.

Right off the bat I can say that he definitely wouldn’t have met you when he first met Warren, Sally and the rest of Hostel. You would have come into his life at a later stage, when he first started at Jae Won high.

Like I said previously, you would have been part of the Baking department, meaning that the two of you would have met in somewhat unusual circumstances - unusual meaning it likely never should have happened.

The reason you first caught his attention was because you were extremely nice, but not just to him - to everyone. It was a refreshing change of pace to be completely honest. 

He was used to the girls in the Beauty department and other classes fawning over him and giving him special treatment just because they found him attractive. While he tried to remain kind to them, it irked him that they acted so superficially. He was certain that if he wasn’t as good-looking as he was, people would never treat him as well as they did.

When the two of you first interacted, he truly thought you were acting kindly just because of his looks, something that had caused him to act quite callously towards you in the moment. It could have been blamed on many things, namely his bad mood and lack of sleep, but all that would have been is a cheap excuse.

You weren’t really phased by his lack of decency towards you, quickly moving on and not sparing him a second glance.

He brushed it off in the moment, too preoccupied with other things to think about some small interaction for too long.

****

Two months later, he bumped into you again. Literally.

You were carrying a stack of boxes towards the baking department, walking briskly despite not being able to see where you were going. To be honest, the collision was all his fault - not that anyone said it wasn’t.

He’d been staring down at his phone, standing in the middle of the hallway while talking to the daycare about picking Yena up a bit later than usual. He had started walking while his attention was still on his phone. 

Exhaustion had a strange way of making people unaware.

Safe to say, his walk had been cut short. And your supplies had acted as collateral.

The two of you stood there for a moment, neither of you speaking, neither of you moving to clear up the mess of utensils and ingredients. Eli hardly dared to breathe. After all, it was all his fault. You had every right to be mad at him.

Only, you weren’t mad. 

You heaved a sigh, one deep and disappointed, before crouching down and picking up what you could, placing it gently into the boxes that remained intact. 

Eli remained frozen, staring down at you, waiting for the inevitable explosion of anger. Or perhaps he was waiting for you to turn sickly sweet - for you to tell him not so subtly that he owed you a favour - perhaps a date to make up for the inconvenience?

After what might have been ten minutes, you stood up, remaining boxes in hand, before turning to face him.

You seemed tired, but still gave him a small, tight smile.

“Sorry about that.”

Then you were gone.

His brain caught up a moment later as he stared down at the bits of flour and broken utensils that remained.

You apologised? Why?

Why did you apologise?

With a start, he realised that you had apologised to him.

By the time he realised what had happened, by the time his exhausted brain had caught up with him, you were long gone. 

****

As they say, third times the charm.

The third time Eli saw you, nothing went wrong. Everything went perfectly.

It was three weeks after he'd walked into you.

This time, he was prepared. Or rather, he was in a good mood.

He was out with Yena, taking her on a shopping trip for a new pair of shoes.

Meeting you, especially outside of school, could be chalked up to luck - that’s all it really was. There was no other way the two of you would cross paths, so there must have been a deity looking out for Eli, giving him this opportunity.

It was a few hours after lunch, and Eli had decided that he would treat himself and Yena to something sweet. After all, things were finally looking up, that in itself was cause enough for celebration.

Eli’s grades were improving, he’d finally found a job that paid him decently, Warren and Sally had come back into his life and they’d talked through all their past problems, and now he had more help taking care of Yena. 

Truly, he hadn’t felt this optimistic in a long time.

He decided to go to a bakery closer to home, not wanting to linger in such a busy area for longer than he had to.

That’s how he landed up in a small bakery about fifteen minutes away from his apartment. It was quaint, half hidden down a side alley. But for all its less than appealing characteristics, it was pretty nice inside. 

The lighting was soft and the interior smelt of coffee and cinnamon, and there was an assortment of mismatched chairs scattered throughout the cozy seating area.

His attention was split between listening to Yena’s adorable babbling and glossing over the menu, so much so that he nearly missed the barista calling him forward.

Stepping forward, eyes still on the menu, he greeted the person behind the counter, bobbing Yena on his hip.

“Can I get a minute to decide? There are so many options.” Eli said with a light laugh.

“Sure, take your time.”

Finally having made up his mind, he looked toward the barista who was waiting expectantly, and froze.

For weeks he’d mulled over ways to apologise when he finally saw you again, ways to ask why you had apologised when it was so clearly his fault. He’d thought up a multitude of excuses, reasons to explain away his bad mood and rude tone. He’d played through different scenarios of how exactly it would play out.

Except, now that he’s stood here, staring at you as you looked at him with such a blank stare, he had nothing. Nothing to say, nothing to do - absolutely nothing.

So he did the only thing he could think of.

He ordered.

****

“Let me read it back to you just to clarify. One black coffee, two iced lattes, two iced Americanos, one kiddie sized hot chocolate, twelve croissants; six chocolate and six plain. Is that right?”

“Yeah, thank you.”

You nod before telling him his total and his waiting time.

He waited at a table in the corner with Yena.

Instead of worrying about what to say to you, he busied himself with his phone, aimlessly switching through the same three apps while he waited.

"Here you go," you say with a smile, one he feels he doesn't deserve.

"I'm sorry," he blurts out, mind blank, wiped of every thought but your smile.

"...Huh? What for?"

....

You don't remember him.

"Oh, um, I bumped into you a while ago. At school, I mean. I just wanted to apologise."

You give him another one of your blinding, too-kind smiles, and wave him off.

"No, that's not a problem, don't even worry about it."

He stares at you, though you're distracted from the conversation a moment later.

"Oh, I have to go, but here," you say, handing him his order.

"I snuck in an extra cupcake for your sister," you whisper with a secretive wink.

Eli feels his throat constrict as he stares up at you.

"Sister-? Oh, no- um, Yena is my daughter."

You stand there for a moment before shrugging. "Well, either way, she's adorable."

Bidding him goodbye, you rush back to the counter to deal with the ever-growing line of customers.

Your utter lack of judgement had to be what solidified Eli's interest in you.

****

Eli sees you a lot after that. You think it's nothing more than a happy accident, but he knows that he goes out of his way to bump into you.

It's not easy, what with all those women constantly hanging around him. But he manages, catching you as you run between classes, or right after your shift at the bakery, or even as you enjoy a day off, strolling down the street, window shopping as you go.

Of course, seeing him so often, the two of you quickly develop a budding friendship, and he has no qualms about officially introducing you to his daughter, or Warren and Sally, or any of his other family in Hostel.

If you'd questioned it for a moment, you'd realise how convenient it was that you always bumped into him when you had no other obligations, nowhere to run off to. You'd also realise that it wasn't normal - the way your friendship with him progressed so quickly.

He's such a private person, no one knows as much about his personal life as you do.

But you don't question it, thankfully.

Yena loves you.

Understandable, since you bring her treats and gifts whenever you see her. You even overtake the Hostel kitchen on one occasion, consequently making the entire house smell like baked goods.

His entire family loves you after that. And why wouldn't they? You'd baked enough to feed a small army, and you'd presented it to them with a smile.

You truly do bring a sense of warmth to their home.

Which is why none of them question or argue with Eli's strange obsession with you. They understand. They do.

****

Eli makes sure that you become very selective with your time.

He doesn't quite force you to do anything, it's just that he has a certain air about him - one that makes you feel compelled to spend the majority of your time and attention on him.

Not that you mind - he's wonderful company, doting on you in the best ways possible. He's open with his affection, freely giving you his time and kind words.

He's big on PDA too, quick to grab your hand or sling his arm around your shoulder. If he thinks someone else is eyeing you, he'll wrap you up in a hug, gently kiss your cheeks and temples.

Sometimes he deludes himself into believing that you, Yena and himself are one big, happy family. It's a nice thought, one that warms his heart.

But despite all that, you're still slightly distant, not fully invested with any of them. Maybe it's because you know something is off. Or maybe it's because you're both teenagers and you see this as nothing more than a teenage romance.

Either way, he doesn't plan on letting you slip away.

He deserves peace, he deserves to be happy. He'll do whatever it takes to protect you, even if that means protecting you from yourself.

This is all for your own good.

Beating up creeps who try to follow you home, scaring off people in your class who get too comfortable around you, even forcing you to spend more time with him than you do with your friends or at work - it's all for your own benefit. You'll see that one day, whether that's tomorrow or twenty years in the future.

You'll thank him for his forethought, for how willing he is to get his hands dirty for you.

But don't worry, he won't ask for anything in return.

He does it because he loves you.

And he does love you. In his own twisted view of the world, he believes that what he feels for you is love.

It's self-destructive and it'll cause more problems than it solves, but Eli Jang would rather rip his heart out than lose anyone else, lose you.

If that isn't love, then he doesn't know what is.

[writingduhh]

Jschlatt || Gingerbread Houses

Sorry I didn’t know how to ends this! Hope you enjoy!

Paring: Jschlatt X Y/n

Type: Fluff

Your laughter bubbled as you watched Schlatt's valiant struggle with the gingerbread walls.

“How do you even get yours to stand up?!” Schlatt growls, eyeing your flawless upright gingerbread walls.

"Here, let me help you," you said, gently taking one of his misshapen pieces and expertly securing it in place. "See? Easy."

Schlatt grumbled playfully, "I don't need your charity, Y/N." Yet, his eyes betrayed a hint of gratitude.

Every Christmas, you and Schlatt engaged in a gingerbread house building contest, but this wasn't your typical competition. Instead of relying on store-bought kits, both of you took it up a notch by baking everything from scratch—gingerbread cookies, frosting, and even crafting other desserts for the perfect decorations.

Together, you continued to build your gingerbread havens side by side, the scent of spices and the warmth of the oven creating a festive and romantic atmosphere.

As the houses started to take shape, you couldn't help but notice him stealing glances, exchanging knowing smiles. The kitchen, now adorned with flour-dusted surfaces and the delightful mess of decorating supplies, housed your newly constructed gingerbread houses.

"I swear, you definitely cheated," Schlatt remarked, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.

"Nope, it just takes a certain level of finesse," you playfully remark, adding the finishing touches to your gingerbread masterpiece.

Schlatt eyed your creation with a mix of admiration and mock frustration. Then he glanced at his half collapsed house, smothered in frosting and various candy pieces sticking out.

"Maybe I'll just stick to store-bought next year."

“Come on J, yours looks … Good! Where is your Christmas spirit?

In response, Schlatt dipped his fingers into the bowl of frosting, a devious glint in his eye.

"Oh, I've got holiday spirit right here," he declared, smearing a streak of frosting on your cheek.

Your eyes widened in surprise before erupting into laughter.

"Is that how it is, huh?" you chuckled, retaliating with a gentle flick of frosting onto his nose.

The kitchen turned into a battlefield of sweetness as a frosting fight ensued, laughter echoed through the festive chaos. The two of ran around the counter, taking whatever you could grab as a weapon. You managed to get ahold of the green icing while schlatt held the red.

“Y/n, just put the piping bag down and we’ll call it a draw” Schlatt persuaded, holding the piping bag in one hand as the other reached out for a handshake.

“Deal.” You hesitantly agreed, slowly reaching out your hand.

Before you knew it he had pulled you into his chest and wrapped his arms around you, smearing one last stripe of red frosting across your nose.

“Hey! You said truce!”

“I did! Starting now.” He smirked, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “You taste like frosting.”

“Maybe because my face is covered in frosting.” You sarcastically remark.

“Don’t worry I’ll clean you up, just stay still.” He says grabbing your face before licking your cheek.

“Did you just LICK me?!” You gag, wiping the saliva off your face.

“Hey, I’m just trying to help!” He says defensively putting his hands in the air.

“Right, you’re so helpful.” You tease, kissing his cheek in return.

“So… who’s going to mop…

[iamatinydinosaur]

🐾Branch🐾

I like you

Branch was in his bunker, spring cleaning. Ever since he got his colors back he's been a lot happier. However, they haven't gone back to his true colors. But at least he got some of it back, because of you. Ever since your dance together he couldn't stop thinking about you. In the song he said I. LOVE. YOU! Then why hasn't anything changed? That's because you thought he only meant it in a friend way.

After the Bergen incident you started to develop feelings for Branch. The fact that you colors came back because of him made you realize. Yep you like him.

You were walking to the entrance of his bunker. "Branch!" You shouted. Branch heard you and ran to let you in. He climbed out his bunker. "What are you doing here? I told you I was spring cleaning today." Branch said. You held up a bucket with cleaning stuff. "Can't I help?" You pouted. Branch smiled taking your hand. "Of course."

Before long, you two were cleaning together in a comfortable silence. You two don't have to talk all the time, you just love being in each other presence. That's one of the things Branch loves about you. All the other Trolls talk his ears off, but you respect his boundaries. You're so considerate of him. Giving him space when he needs it, you push him little by little to be more social so he isn't so isolated, you make sure he eats because when he's focused of things he tends to forget about it and you always ask him to show you how to build stuff.

Ever since he found out how much he likes you he's been super nervous around you. He wants to tell you how he feels. He starts off with confessing but then changes it at the last minute. The last time went along. "I really like you....r bread can you bake some?" You started to get suspicious cause they always start off with "I like you" and then he turns it to your.

"Branch can you help me, I can't reach to dust." Branch turned around chuckling. You were on tiptoes on one foot, one leg in the air and at your highest reach trying to dust in the top corner. He walked over and gave you a boost, you sat on his shoulders and go the last cobwebs in the room. "Got them." You stated. Branch was about to set you down but lost his footing. You gripped his head as you started to fall forward (I dunno if any of you have watched Haikyu but I imagine it would look like this. 😂😂)

Branch managed to maneuver your bodies. He did a little turn so you fell on him. All the cleaning supplies were scattered around the room, creating a huge mess. You and Branch were staring into each other's eyes. Branch went bright red. "I'm so sorry!" He was trying to push you off but you weren't having it. He had been beating around the bush for so long. You took him by his jacket and pulled him close. Branch's eyes widened. You had kissed him quickly. "Branch I swear I've been waiting for this for ages. I like you! But you've been beating around the bush for so long!" You exclaimed. Branch look astounded. "Wait I wanted to make the first move!" Branch groaned lying back down. You pursed your lips together and pouted. Branch peaked at you and noticed your face. Yeah that wasn't the reaction she wanted. Branch took you softly by the back of the head sitting up. You expression softened as you looked up at him. Branch pulled you closer and kissed you.

"I like you too."

A/N: okay here's Branch. I fell asleep halfway through writing this last night, so I thought I'd quickly finish it. The gif I've used at the top. So I'm a massive Kpop stan and Red Velvet was one of the groups that got me into kpop. Along with BTS and Twice. The fact we got to see red velvet in it and Branch dancing to Russian Roulette sends me high!!!! Russian roulette is Soo good live!!! I saw them at a kpop festival last year they were so good.

So I'm leaving for my family's soon so that's my last piece of work for the next few days as I'll be spending a lot of time with them. When I'm back I have two requests I'll be working on.

I hope you all have a lovely Christmas!!!

[copperbadge]

[ID: Two images; one is a slow-cooker pan full of chopped onions gently sweating, and the other is my wax melt warmer, a lantern-looking object with a pool of warm wax in the lid, sitting on a windowsill.]

Okay. Now that I've done with the gross part, let's talk about the positives of today's cleaning!

Part of the reason I wanted to count yesterday's grocery trip was that I did an inventory of the freezer and found I was low on sauteed mushrooms and caramelized onions, both of which I use frequently but are a pain to make when you want to be cooking other things, and both of which freeze really well so you don't necessarily have to.

I got a pound and a half of mushrooms plus three pounds of onions, and this morning I chopped up the onions and put them in the slow-cooker; I'm trying slow-cooker caramelized onions again, simply because I'll still have to babysit them a bit at the end but this way I don't have to spend forty solid minutes standing over the pot. I chopped the mushroom caps and sauteed those in chunks, but I also chopped the stems super-fine and put those in a pan of veggie broth to simmer and soften. (I don't mind the odd stem on a pizza or something but they can be a little tough, so when I prep them myself usually I cook the stems separately and puree them, then use the puree to flavor sauces.)

While the mushrooms were simmering, I got started on the kitchen counters, first wiping down the hutch where I keep my meds and Shabbat supplies. I'd been keeping the new wax melt warmer, meant to help my home smell nicer, on the hutch, but the kitchen is kind of closed-off, so I finally found a spot where it was both safe from the cats and also near an outlet but could spread its scent a little further.

And then I had to tackle the area to the left of the sink, where I do a lot of my meal preparing and also snacking. I mentioned this in the Soap Dish post earlier, and you can even see the edge of the freshly-washed dish over on the right. I moved everything, washed the counter with Grease Lightning and then vinegar before wiping with a damp cloth, then cleaned everything you see in whatever way it needed cleaning and put it all back. (The yellow mug is what I use for weighing liquids while baking, and the two bowls I often use for recipe prep; the rest is mostly snacks, though the "butter" dish is a French Butter Bell, which I link because I know people will have questions. The slatted board is a bread-slicing board that I use for meal preparation sometimes because it's easier for me to clean than the counter.)

[ID: An image of my kitchen counter; it has a paper towel dispenser and a set of bamboo shelves at the back, and resting on the shelves are several boxes of snacks plus a couple of bowls. In front of that is a slatted cutting board, as well as a crock reading BUTTER on it and a bottle of dish soap. Off on the left, mostly off-frame, is the sink; on one corner of the sink's lip is a metal contraption for holding sponges and soap.]

[nerdieforpedro]

WIP Wednesday

I haven’t been working on much. 👀 So I think I have three previews? One would say that’s not nothing Nerdie and they are correct. It’s just my brain has been…flipped upside down, shaken and stirred and jostled a little just for funsies. 😑 Bah.

Anyway! Good news is that I am heavy in the fluff camp! Smut was lost between being shaken and stirred I think. 🤔

I was tagged by @secretelephanttattoo @604to647 @djarins-cyare and @inept-the-magnificent 💕💕💕 Thank you for thinking of me. ❤️

Previews under the cut:

The first is for “Our Journey Across the Star Ocean.”

His hand touched face one time with his bare hand next to Grogu’s little green one on your cheek, his thumb brushed against your lips. He held it there a moment before dropping his hand. You wonder if he was embarrassed or sorry that he did so. But his hand is once again in yours as he charts the course to the next bounty.

It’s not only the small touches. Din always remembers enough cleaning supplies for your tools and the ship in addition to the small little caf cakes you like after a bounty goes well. Din might have started eating one as he would buy three instead of just two. The small parchment paper in the refuse was the evidence he’d had one.

It’s very cute I think. 💕 we’re at part four, may end at part five because…reasons. 👀

The second preview is for a random Dieter Bravo series I wanna write just because:

“I’ll text Mindy. It will be fine. Anything happens she’ll blame me anyway. You can just be licking ice cream off your lips.” Scooting closer to Tamia, Dieter purposely lowers his head to look up at her, using his deep brown eyes to his advantage. If you’ve got it, use it right?

Huffing, Tamia reluctantly agrees to Dieter’s proposal for ice cream. A car is summoned and they’re off within ten minutes. A flurry of texts from Mindy stating that he needs to take Tamia home now go ignored other than Dieter’s one reply: Okay mom. We’ll be back in plenty of time. It’s just ice cream.

Who doesn’t want ice cream, especially with Dieter? 🥰

Lastly, I’m working on Only Pieces of you Mr. Morales finale it’s longer than a Drabble (my bad) but I gotta wrap it up properly:

There stands Francisco, a messy mop of dark curls bouncing on the back of his neck, his gray t-shirt struggling to contain his biceps and shoulders. He was wearing tan cargo shorts that cupped the curve of his ass just right. He’s finishing up the eggs, the bacon is to the side, pancakes are keeping warm in a metal baking pan covered with foil. The table is set with orange juice and syrup already out. If she wasn’t apprehensive about what conversation they were going to have, she’d tell him to cover all the food and head back to the bedroom. This is by far one of the sexiest and sweetest things he does for her: letting her not worry about anything. She’s waiting for his usual line of “breakfast is served mi amor (my love).” That’s not what he turns and says.

And a last sentence because @djarins-cyare did one:

Javi and Abigail watched the cerulean blue waves roll against the rocks as they finished up their meal.

I made progress on my Javi G series Two Hearts by the Ocean finally! 🌊

NPT: @rhoorl @maggiemayhemnj @laurfilijames @grogusmum @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@goodwithcheese @djarinmuse @connectioneverywhere @morallyinept @megamindsecretlair

@soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings @spacecowboyhotch @avastrasposts @mysterious-moonstruck-musings

@magpiepills @pedroshotwifey @julesonrecord @alltheglitterandtheroar @pamasaur

@saturn-rings-writes

PS: I might have made notes to two Moon Knight fics. 👀 Again for reasons…maybe found while being flipped. Who knows these things really?

[delopsia]

You dont write for him but miles miller has such omega energy 🔥

Oh! I haven't seen an ask for Miles in such a long time 😭 I do write for him! It just...falls into a more by-demand basis, lmao.

Miles is such a handful of an omega to start with; more than once, he's been courted by someone who later backed out because of how much attention he requires.

Like most things, omega's fall on all sides of the neediness spectrum. The clingy omega subtype is romanticized; most think they can handle it until they're in too deep; one party is thankful they're no longer they're feeling suffocated, and the other is torn up about it, thinking that the problem lies within themselves. They're the common denominator, after all.

So when you do meet Miles, a meek little hotel clerk who can hardly keep hold of the pen that he hands you, he's already had his heart broken more times than he'd care to count. Just a whiff of your scent is enough to make his knees weaken, has to cling to the counter to keep himself upright. His lonely heart wonders what it would be like to be wrapped up in your arms, but his head reminds him that it will never work out.

But you're a surprising regular at this hotel. Your job requires you to float between two offices, and this place just so happens to be the perfect middle ground. You leave the office late in the afternoon, stay at the El Royale for the night, and then finish the other half of your trip the next day. It's not your ideal setup, but your employer foots the bill and the rooms are clean. But you'd be lying if you said part of the reason was because of that sweet little hotel clerk.

You're on your thirteenth visit when most of the staff walk out, saying something about sketchy management, but that doe-eyed omega is still here. Bouncing around, struggling to keep up with cleaning, running the front desk, supplying the bar, and all of a sudden now he's got to figure out how the hell to work a kitchen.

An oven fire is what gets you two talking; his poor attempt at baking a premade pie because your preferred flavor was sold out ends in you ordering pizza and sharing it with him. He's flighty at first. Has to be convinced to take a slice, then comes moseying out the back room a few minutes later, shyly asking for another.

And just like that, he starts coming around more and more. He remembers your name and memorizes the pattern of your visits. Always seems to have your favorite room reserved for you, with a few extra linens and amenities that weren't there before. At first, you presume it to be an omega thing, but the longer it goes on, you begin to wonder if it's his shy way of courting.

You don't particularly remember when your relationship started. Maybe it was when he showed up at your room for the first time, or perhaps it was before that. When he didn't realize he'd started his heat, and you'd walked in on a particularly irritating alpha staring him down in the lobby. Miles had meekly requested that you scent him because, theoretically, the pheromones of another would serve as an off-limits sign. But then he'd snuggled beneath your chin, and he couldn't move a muscle.

He's got a bit of a nest in the maintenance room, a bunch of ratty blankets cobbled on top of a lowly single mattress. When you'd offered to look after him, the greater half of you was expecting him to jump on you the moment the door shut, but all Miles wanted to do was snuggle on top of you. Whining low in his throat and nuzzling into the juncture of your jaw. Medicine takes hold and wards off the worst of his heat, and he's better by morning. For once, the circles beneath his eyes aren't so dark.

The next time you see him, he bounces right up and barely manages to stop himself from jamming his head into your neck, squeaking and stuttering. But he's welcome to do that; you don't mind.

He pops up at your door that night under the guise of giving you a slice of pie that he's only marginally burnt this time. Barely protests when you offer to let him in, and one way or another, he winds up snuggled on top of you again. It happens again. And again. And again. Bringing all sorts of pie slices until you finally tell him that he's welcome to visit without it.

You've been visiting the El Royale for nine months when you find yourself caught up in traffic; a rough storm has rolled through and put more folks in the ditch than you can count. It's midnight when you make it to the hotel, and Miles damn near runs you down, slamming into your chest, babbling that he'd thought something bad happened. And before either of you can think twice, he's kissing you.

He quits charging you for your stays sometime after that. At some point in your absence, he had another heat and couldn't rest until he'd thrown everything out of one of the storage rooms and turned it into a makeshift bedroom. A proper-sized mattress that he hijacked from a closed room, away from the one-way mirrors and where he can still hear the ring of the bell. You don't mind it. Too content to lay with him and kiss his pale forehead as he snuggles into you. He's never truly quiet, chirping and making all sorts of funny noises. Sporadic, too. One moment, he's on the other side of the room, and the next, he's got to be right next to you. Chatting and stuttering and switching between wanting to hold your hand to wanting full-blown hugs.

There's a night when the hotel is completely dead. Not a soul in the building, aside from the two of you, and you find yourself with Miles between your legs. Drooling as he eats you out, desperate to feel you cum on his pretty pink tongue. Doesn't entirely know how to act when you wrap your hand around his cock, jams his cute face into your chest, and whimpers high in his throat. Oh, oh, oh, he wants to ride you so bad, but you didn't pack a strap, and he's got to settle for your fingers instead. Devolves into a wonderfully noisy little mess that makes you feel dizzy to look at; you just want to wrap him up and take him home with you.

But then you get the news that you're being transferred to an office far away from California and Nevada, and you're in no position to reject the offer. All of a sudden, you've only got three more nights to spend with the doe-eyed omega who's been the highlight of your life for the past two years.

He takes it horribly. Speaking through wobbly lips and watery eyes, begging you to not leave him behind. He could hardly let go of you before; now, he's practically glued to you. Doesn't want to answer the ring of his bell or do his job. No, he can't stand to lose a single second. You're offering to take him with you; your apartment will have two bedrooms, and he's only got a few bags to his name, but for lack of better terms, he's trapped at this hotel.

He asked you to bring a toy for your final visit, was still dying to ride you, but when he saw it in your bag, he dissolved into a sobbing mess. Muttering about how he couldn't do it; he couldn't stand to get any more attached to you when you were leaving for good.

You leave him with as many kisses as he can handle, a phone number, and an address. If he ever wants to come, he can. But you don't think you've ever experienced an omega's scent go downright sour like it does. Clinging to you even as you step through the unfamiliar front door of your new home.

The calls come for a while. Miles talking your ear off from the front desk, but then they stop all of a sudden. A letter comes in revealing that someone ripped the telephone line clean out of the wall. No more phone calls. Only letters. And Miles can only afford so many stamps. Those stop, too.

For seven months, you don't hear from that odd little omega. The only sign he ever existed is the scar he accidentally left on your collar when he got too nippy and a t-shirt that fell off the bed and into your suitcase.

You're heading home one afternoon, head fuzzy with the endless papers you've been forced to deal with and what needs to be taken care of as soon as you clock back in. But then you turn the corner and find a small figure sitting against your door.

Miles. Toying with the frayed edge of his bus ticket. Has nothing but a tattered bag with him. His hair is a little longer. Messier, too, has lost a noticeable amount of weight, but he's every bit of the man you left behind.

A lot of folks warned you against opening your home to an omega like Miles. He doesn't have the ideal history, is dead broke, and the only thing he can bring to the table is himself, but that's all you could possibly ask of him. And funny enough, those very people are now the ones twinging with jealousy.

At a glance, Miles looks like the perfect house omega; he fits the stereotype incredibly well. Indulging in his instinct to take care of you, fussing over paper cuts and nearly has a heart attack when you trip over the rug in the kitchen. Greets you with nuzzles and kisses when you come home. Always keeps the apartment perfectly clean, the sheets are always soft, and he's taught himself to cook. But that's not all there is to him.

In the safety of a home he can call his own, he's flourished. A more vivid version of himself, as compared to back at the El Royale. Still stutters here and there, but he's confident. Unafraid to flash his teeth at someone for getting too friendly with you, speaks his mind and does things his way. He's not much for being ordered around; he's got an opinion, and he'll be damned if someone tries to silence him, but you wouldn't have it any other way. He does these things because he wants to, not because it's expected of him. 

And you've spoiled him, truly. Because the Miles you met, never would have pushed you on the bed and rode you to his heart's content. This Miles doesn't worry about his playful nips giving you the impression that he's trying to be mean. Doesn't give a damn if the neighbors overhear him. His favorite nights are the ones when he gets to tease you until you snap, pinning him by the nape of his neck. Loves to be manhandled and taught a good lesson; there's something about rebellion in the safety of his own home that makes him feel alive again. 

His heats never truly change. The first night is always the worst, you have to thoroughly wring him out before he can even consider sleep, but after that, he prefers to spend the rest of it in your company. Sometimes, that means laying on top of you while you watch television, or it can also include the simple comfort of being in the same room together, performing vastly separate tasks. 

He'll probably always jump at the sound of fireworks, bolting to you at the slightest fright and coming off as meek to those he isn't familiar with, but that's just another part of Miles that you love. Simply a diamond in the rough who needs a little more comfort and attention than most. He wouldn't be Miles otherwise.

And as you come home from work, listening to him chirp as he peppers you with kisses, you can see the television from over his shoulder—an unnamed reporter standing in the burnt remains of the El Royale. Some old, cheap hotel that will be long forgotten in a matter of years but just so happened to bring you right to the love of your life. 

[mommieswithmuscles]

Free Palestine, Don't support Neil

Title: Sugar Free (3)

Part two

Abby spent the night in your spare room. For the most part she's quiet, but a few times during the night you hear her startle from what you think are nightmares. You quickly fall back asleep after assessing the situation and deeming it safe.

You wake to your alarm as scheduled. Wiping the sleep away you get dressed, brush your teeth with a nature's toothpaste recipe you found in some herbalist guide, and wake Abby. She jumps to her feet, ready to go. Almost.

"Good morning. I'm going to work. Are you coming with me?" You offer.

"Uh, sure. Sure yeah. I'll go." Abby tugs on her boots and walks with you to the door. "When should I meet with Maria and Tommy?"

"Don't bother with them, I'll sort it out for you." You notice the blush that creeps on her face. "Unless of course you would prefer?"

"I probably should. New face and all." She nervously scratches her ear in a way you've seen Ellie do hundreds of times.

-

When you get to the shop, Maria and Ellie are both outside. "What can I do for you ladies?" You unlock the door, holding it open for everyone to escape the cold.

"Early breakfast." Ellie goes straight for the bread storage. "Can't stay long, heading out." She leaves with a wave of her bad hand, you smile to yourself at the way the nubs dance with the rest of her fingers.

"I was here for you, Abby." Maria addresses the other girl as you pull out the supplies needed for the new batches. "Housing arrangement. Joel told me you're fixed to work here. Is that true?"

"Yes," you answer for her. "Joel brought her by yesterday and she spent the night at mine."

"Excellent. Would you like a place of your own?" You wait patiently as Abby thinks.

"I think I would." Maria motions for Abby to follow her. You watch them leave.

-

As you're wheeling the first batch, Abby catches up to you. "So, I'm all situated." She takes the wheel barrel from you. "Want to check out the new place after we're done for the day?"

"Among other things," you mutter to yourself. Abby gives you a confused look.

"Hm? I didn't catch that."

"It can be arranged," you say clearly.

-

The moment lunch loaves are delivered, you send Abby to help the cooks with the excuse of needing to use the restroom before starting again. She obeys and you rush to get clean and ready for your routine bread treatment.

Ellie's special loaf is baked alongside Abby's. You fetch her from the kitchen and sit her down with the bread. "Eat up hot shot, overheard a few of the guys saying they may need extra hands for a small hoard up north. Something about Migration Tommy said."

"Is Ellie out there with them?" Abby asks before taking her first bite.

"She's stopping in to give her report then heading back out." You keep Ellie's bread as warm as it can be without burning.

-

"Hey beautiful, is that smell calling my name?" Ellie rushes to the back where you're keeping her loaf.

"Yes it is," you hand her the bread. She takes it gratefully.

"Thanks a bunch!" She gives you a quick side hug, her hand possessively running across the small of your back before she leaves.

"What was that about?" Abby helps you rotate the risen dough into the pans for the oven.

"Ellie being Ellie." It wasn't a lie. You've seen her make the same move on Cat. But Abby doesn't need to know the context.

"Is it because I'm new?" Abby sounds almost shy.

"No, Ellie is a lady's girl. If you get what I mean."

"Oh, so she's- Oh!" Abby shakes her head embarrassed. "Duh, I should have figured that on my own."

"It's good you don't make assumptions."

"Woah there, I make plenty. Just not about that sort of thing." There's a beat of silence before Abby speaks again. "Are you also, how did you put it? A 'lady's girl'?"

"I am. Do you happen to know what kind of gal you are?"

"I had my fair share of both, but I don't have a solid answer for you."

"So you're a floosy?" You joke.

"A what?" She scoffs. "What does that mean?"

"Old world for someone who 'gets around' so to speak. It was a dumb joke." You reassure her.

"That's a gross joke," Abby still lets out a hint of a laugh. You take it in grace.

"Sorry, Ellie tends to rub off on me sometimes."

"Sure it's just sometimes?" You whip your head to find her suppressing a laugh.

"Well I'll be, miss Anderson. Are you jealous?"

"Me? Jealous? Please," Abby scoffs. "I hardly know you."

"Would you like to get to know me?" You intended the statement to be bold, but it didn't land.

"We did share a home for a night, and I invited you to mine. Won't be the worst idea."

[thevalleyisjolly]

Some Eärendil and Elwing headcanons because I love them:

It took a long time for Eärendil to start singing again after Gondolin, and it was mostly sea shanties and Mortal tunes.  Only in private and only with Elwing (and later, his sons) would he sing in Quenya the songs of his childhood in Gondolin.

When Elwing was 12, she decided that she wanted to be a great seafaring explorer and sail all the way around Middle-earth.  Her hopes were rather harshly dashed when she stepped foot on a ship to pay Círdan a short visit on Balar and discovered that she suffered from terrible motion sickness.  Eärendil gallantly vowed to go on the adventures instead and come back to tell her all about them.

Elwing is just a little bit taller than Eärendil.  He quite likes it, even though it’s not a very great difference.

Eärendil is fantastic at sewing, and has a good eye for embroidery as well.  When he has downtime on Vingilot, he creates beautiful patterns and designs on tunics, handkerchiefs, shawls.  The crew of Vingilot was the most well-outfitted crew to ever sail the Sundering Seas, and he’d always make sure to bring back little embroidered patches with scenes from his voyages, which first Elwing and then the twins would add onto an ever-growing quilt.

Elwing learned how to make lembas from Idril, but for Eärendil’s journeys, she bakes him hardtack in the Mortal fashion.  He likes to make “pudding” out of it with sugar and water.

Elwing loves math, and is very good at it.  By the time she was ten, she could do complex calculations in her head in a matter of seconds that Elven scholars thousands of years her senior would need several minutes and a writing surface to do.  She didn’t have the time or resources to seriously study it while she was in Middle-earth, but in Aman, she does a correspondence course with one of the universities in Alqualondë and promptly has to deal with a whole hoard of mathematicians coming from all over the Blessed Realm to her tower wanting to learn from her.

In their own home, they speak a mixture of Quenya, Sindarin, and Taliska with each other.  They also have a secret written code that they came up with as children, which they leave little love notes for each other in.

Neither of them have ever learned to ride a horse.  Eärendil has fuzzy memories of being put on his grandfather’s saddle for a gentle trot when he was young and the Gondolindrim assure him that he once briefly had a pony, but there were very few steads or mounts at Sirion. Frankly, both of them find horses a little bewildering.

The twins were a surprise because they’d been aiming for triplets.  Mostly just to see if that was even possible, and also because neither of them had ever been pregnant before and didn’t truly understand what it would be like to carry and birth triplets.

Despite the harps of gold they brought to him, Eärendil does not actually play the harp very well.  He’s not fond of wearing white either because he thinks it’s too hard to keep clean.  Elwing looks very good in white, but it’s a mourning colour and she generally prefers warmer yellows and oranges.

Eärendil’s favourite colour is the soft silver of Elwing’s hair, and Elwing’s favourite colour is the warm gold of Eärendil’s hair.  Their favourite wedding present was a tapestry woven by some of Idril’s ladies depicting the intermingled light of Telperion and Laurelin in those exact shades.

Elwing is a vegetarian.  Eärendil isn’t, mostly for practical reasons onboard a ship with limited supplies, but is happy to eat vegetarian when he’s at home.  The real challenge at mealtimes came from Elros being a picky eater and Elrond having a seafood allergy.

There is an outdoor bathhouse at Elwing’s tower because Silmaril glitter is absolutely impossible to get rid of once it’s in the house.  The grout in the tiling there has become permanently shiny, despite their combined best efforts at scrubbing.

[dozing-composing]

Hello! Can You do headcanons of brock with an female s/o that is the Definition of handy like

Do you need a haircut? She can do it

Cook? She can

Treat an infection or wound? She got You covered

That her moto is "Graduated in nothing, expert in everything" as a joke

This Is Going To Sound Weird, But That's Kind Of How I Am, Haha! Well, I Can't Cook That Well. I Can Bake Though! I'm Typically The Handy Person My Family Calls On When Things Need Fixed. So These Might Be A Little Self-Indulgent, Lol.

ᴇxᴘᴇʀᴛ ɪɴ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ…

✦ Another handyperson? A handyMA'AM no less? At first, he didn't know how to function. He thought he was being replaced. But no, "it's always good to have extra hands around here," his employer nonchalantly says. But getting to know you, he realizes how you're able to handle the same stuff he does. Which surprises him because in his line of work, you can't be squeamish. ✦ I can imagine him watching as you give the boys a haircut. He leans against the doorframe as you trim one of the boys' hair. And as you finish, they look in the mirror all proud-like. You ask Brock if he'd like a haircut, but he'll shake his head and walk off To which you shrug and put away your supplies. ✦ Seeing you cook is like watching a magic show. Every night, you ask the boys what they want for dinner. And every night, you make that meal. Of course, you cater to everyone also, but you always ask the boys first. "They're growing boys, they need all the strength they can get!" You say with a kindhearted smile. ✦ There is never a dull moment in the Venture family. The boys are constantly getting hurt in one way or another. And thankfully, you know how to clean and treat injuries. Brock once busted his knuckles while knocking down a door to reach the boys. Later, you had a little intimate moment where you bandaged them up and planted a little kiss on them. He's not the only one to get this treatment, but he's the only one you actually mean it for in that way. (; ✦ And if there's ever a fix that needs to be done, you best believe you're on it before Brock can even see what's going on. It lowkey weirds him out because he's usually the first one to get down to it. But you beat him every time, darn it! ✦ If you ever just wanted to hang out with him, you'll just make your way to the garage where he'll most likely be working on his car. Not only does he enjoy your company, but you understand what tool to give when he asks for it. ✦ One time while doing this, he takes a break to just talk to you. He asks how and why you're able to do what you do. Turns out, he already knew the answer. You're just like him, except for being a deadly O.S.I agent and lethal bodyguard. He should've already known. But hearing your story and background is something to truly behold. ⤷"So...College just didn't work out for you?" He takes a quick puff on his cigarette, the smoke exhaling from his nostrils as he breathed. "Oh, no. Couldn't ever afford it. I guess it was one of the many reasons why I started taking so many jobs. I still wanted to learn things. But I wanted skills I could never achieve in school." You spoke with such passion. Each word dripping with emotion as you reflect back on your younger years. "But...That's okay." Suddenly, your bright demeanor came back. You felt pride bubble in your chest. "Because while I'm graduated in nothing..." You turn to him, beaming. "I'm an expert in everything."

[livingforcoopsandoknutzy]

O'KNUTZY WEEK ‼️‼️ (it's officially the 31st in my time zone so here we go)

credit to @lumosinlove and a special thanks to @oknutzyweek2023 for hosting this week!

Day 1: Cooking Mishaps

Weekly team dinners had been a thing for as long as Finn had been with the Lions. It had been a tradition that had been passed on as players came and went. More often than not it was sort of like a potluck. Everyone brings their own food to share and everyone is told to bring a different thing every week. Desserts fell on Leo, Logan, and Finn this week.

This was good because it meant that Finn and Logan could actually help rather than ‘attempting’ to assist Leo when they have to bring main courses or really anything that wasn’t cookies.

Logan and Finn could handle some cookies. Leo had faith in their abilities to bake cookies. They’d done it before and the house hadn’t caught fire. He was so confident in fact that he left them unsupervised for a whole 10 minutes to shower.

Leo left an organized kitchen with pans, eggs, and milk all set out nicely as Logan read the instructions to Finn. When he came back to the kitchen floor covered in flour, Logan had eggs running down his hair, dough dripping down the cabinets in clumps, and Finn with something that looked suspiciously like vanilla extract making its way down his face. As Leo stepped into the room Logan dropped a large spoon to the floor and Finn hid something that looked like a whisk behind his back quickly.

There was a beat or two before the kitchen erupted into noise.

“He started it.”

“That’s a lie! He threw the eggs first.”

“In retaliation. Leo-”

“Finn! I dropped some flour and that warranted eggs in my hair?”

“Alright, maybe I overreacted but Leo-”

Leo abruptly burst into peals of laughter. “What the hell happened?” Logan was quick to answer. “J’etais innocent, je le jure! Finn-” Finn huffed, the vanilla extract getting dangerously close to his eye. “Hey, that’s not fair! That’s French I can’t even defend myself if I don’t know what you’re saying, you anserine!” Logan’s face pinched in the way it did when he was confused. He turned his lost eyes to Leo who just shrugged as he grabbed a clean towel (something that was in short supply at the moment) and wiped Finn’s forehead. “What is an anserine?” Logan asked with a frown. Finn just humphed. “It’s not any fun when you don’t understand it, is it?”

Logan glared at Finn from across the kitchen. Finn glared back. Leo gave up trying to stop the vanilla extract from staining Finn’s forehead. “Alright, children, since we can’t play nice we can’t play at all. Let’s clean up and start again. When everyone makes fun of us for being late I’m completely throwing y’all under the bus and y’all have to take it, understood?” Logan mumbled under his breath and Finn turned his glare to the ground as he muttered an audible annoyed, ‘yes sir.’ Leo smiled, happy with himself. “Okay, good. Logan get the vacuum. Finn start picking up the dough.” Finn started protesting immediately. “That’s not fair I didn’t spill the flou-” Leo turned to Finn with an exasperated look. “Finn.” He gave up with a groan, everyone dispersing to their station.

Once everything was cleaning up he sent Logan and Finn to go shower. Maybe if they showered together they’d get over their tiff. Leo figured it would be over before the dinner either way though.

About twenty minutes later the boys emerged from their bedroom, pinkies linked and swinging between them. “Need help with anything, Le?” Logan asked as Leo put the cookie sheet into the oven. “Nope.” Leo said with a fond smile. He loved seeing his boys getting along. As amusing as it is when they’re annoyed with each other it’s always more fun to see them being affectionate.

Logan walked up to Leo and wrapped his arms around Leo’s middle. Leo’s arms came up to rest across the shorter boy's shoulders. Logan dug his face into Leo’s neck and Leo could feel his body go lax against him. Finn leaned against the counter next to Leo and gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead.

“Thank you for remaking the cookies.” Leo returned the kiss that was offered and tightened his grip on Logan. “Y’all are very welcome. I appreciate y’all trying to make them even if it ended up all over the kitchen.” Logan huffed a laugh against his neck and Leo felt chills shoot down his arms.

Leo pressed a kiss to the top of Logan’s head and straightened up. “As nice as this is, I have to go change. Watch the cookies. Literally all you need to do is wait for the timer to go off and then take them out. That’s it. Just wait for the timer. Logan and Finn rolled their eyes in sync before sharing a look. “We know how a timer works, Leo.” Leo just raised his hands in surrender and backed out of the kitchen.

After he freshened up and changed out of his sweatpants he headed back to the kitchen.

He came to a halt when he heard panicked murmurs. He looked between his boys before looking down at the cookies.

The very very burnt cookies.