#cookies or something that requires toppings

[starpros-sunshine]

sometimes I think about the Torikasa baking fic that I would try to write if I knew how to properly do that in english

[justablah56]

i'm taking more stuff off my walls 👍

nice 👍 I hope you're less vertically challenged than me and all your wall things are easy to take down 👍 <3

[aesethewitch]

Ambient Spells

The idea of the ambient spell isn’t so uncommon. My use of the word “ambient” may throw you for a bit of a loop. An ambient spell is any spell that permeates a space in an unobtrusive way. They affect the area surrounding their vessel and require little to no maintenance or upkeep. They’re long-term workings that require varying levels of effort to put together and cast. Depending on what exactly you need, they can be as simple as setting out a bowl of salt or as complex as crafting a home decor piece from scratch.

I always recommend making ambient spells that are self-fueling. I often refer to them also as “set it and forget it” spells. They’re the crockpot of spellwork — work up front for a slow burn output.

Chances are that you’re already aware of or even know how to create ambient spells. Any spell that affects the vibe of a room, for example, would count as an ambient spell. Lighting incense specifically to invite in positive energy counts. A ward that sucks up baneful magic and transforms it into blessings also counts. The primary idea of an ambient spell is that it’s making a change to your environment in the background. It’s the cool breeze in summertime, the subtle piano at a fancy restaurant, the scent of fresh-baked cookies fading as the day goes by. Positive, but not overt.

When to Use (or Not Use) an Ambient Spell

By their nature, ambient spells are fairly general workings. They can be quite powerful, of course, just like any other spell. The thing to keep in mind is that they’re not ideal for targeted magic.

For example, I wouldn’t create an ambient spell to banish someone from my life. I might make an ambient spell to make an area unwelcoming to them, or to anyone who would do me harm. The unwelcoming vibe might discourage them from coming around, sure. But it may not work outside of the area the spell lives in; and it may not get rid of them for good.

Similarly, an ambient spell might make a good general ward for keeping out loud, unwelcome spirits, but it wouldn’t specifically cast out the one particular spirit who’s been causing problems. It might discourage their behavior, but it wouldn’t necessarily get rid of them. A concentrated, single-use banishing spell would work significantly better for that purpose. Afterwards, an ambient spell can keep the area clear of that spirit’s influence.

I also wouldn’t use an ambient spell to draw in specific success. General success or money, absolutely — whatever wants to come my way is welcome, via a basic money bowl set up next to my wallet. But if I specifically want a promotion or a particular amount of money, I’m not going to leave that to the ambient money spell. I would craft a spell specifically for what I’m looking for.

When deciding what kind of spell to cast, keep this idea in mind. An ambient spell is best for behind-the-scenes results that happen without your concentrated effort. When you want something specific, a more targeted spell will work better nine times out of ten.

Creating an Ambient Spell

It’s possible to create an ambient spell with nothing but energy work. However, I often find that these fade quickly and don’t lend themselves well to self-fueling. They tend to need more active upkeep than I prefer for a spell that’s meant to be set and let go. I recommend choosing an appropriate vessel of some kind to contain the spell to help it last longer.

How do you decide what’s an appropriate vessel, though? And how do you set one up? How do you make a spell self-fueling? Let’s start from the top and go in order.

Identify the Purpose

Decide what the spell will do. This is going to define the components and the way you’re going to cast the spell. In my experience, ambient spells work best when they’re given a single purpose. For example, I wouldn’t make a spell that’s a ward and a cleanser and a spirit welcome mat. It dilutes the purpose. Choose a single, clear motive for the spell.

Choose a Vessel

Now that you know what your spell will do, it’s time to decide what it’s going to look like. The vessel you choose should reflect the spell’s purpose in some way.

An open bowl works well for absorbing energy. Why? It’s open. The face of it is open to the room, ready to take in whatever kind of energy you assign to its contents.

A closed jar, on the other hand, would be good for repelling. It’s closed off and sealed — a one-way road going out of the jar and into the room to clear it.

A wreath hung at the door could serve a lot of purposes, depending on what it’s made with. I would use a wreath as an agent of transformation or as an energy emitter to release a certain energy into the space.

A stone makes a solid vessel for protection or grounding. I have one on my working altar to help keep me in the moment and create a good environment for working magic.

When you’re choosing your spell vessel, keep in mind how visible you want it to be. Certain vessels are going to naturally be more obvious than others. A wreath, for example, is hard to miss — but it also just looks like nice home decor. A jar full of herbs and things would be more obviously a spell, but they can be small and easily hidden.

I have both obvious and hidden ambient spells peppered around my home for varying purposes. If you’re keeping your practice a secret, you’ll likely want to keep your spells more obscure or hidden. But if you aren’t, and you can make the choice of whether you want the spell to be in plain sight or not, consider the effect you want the spell to have.

If you want the spell to absorb bad vibes, baneful magics, the evil eye, or other negativity, a hidden spell might serve you well. Hiding the vessel somewhere means that whoever’s casting against you may not expect the resistance. On the other hand, if you want a vessel that allows friendly spirits to visit you during the holidays, a beautiful centerpiece on your dining table that’s charmed with spirit-friendly magic might serve the purpose.

Choose an Energy Source

Ambient spells need to draw energy from somewhere. Think of it like a battery. The ingredients you put into the spell may provide a temporary charge, but if you want the spell to be long-term, it needs an input. How will your spell recharge itself?

If you want the spell to be shorter-term, only a few days or so, then you can skip this step. But if you want an ambient spell to last a while, like a ward or vibe-adjuster, you’ll need to think about this carefully.

Like when choosing the vessel, the energy source should match the purpose of the spell. For example, I have a simple room refresher spell set on a table that’s central to my home. The purpose of it is to take anxiety and negative thoughts to turn them into positivity. I set it up so that the act of walking past the bowl swirls the air around it, and therefore also the energy around it. That kinetic energy fuels the bowl’s magic and keeps it going. I don’t have to actively recharge the bowl or its contents, because we walk past it constantly.

Another example would be an ambient spell to help you do the dishes. (Whether that’s remembering to do them or finding the motivation for it is up to you.) The fuel for the spell could be the act of walking into or past the kitchen, running water elsewhere in the home, or even cooking or eating.

The energy source could also be something like lighting a candle next to or over the vessel on a schedule, if you prefer. This would add an upkeep step, of course, and wouldn’t be my first choice. The only ambient spell I do this with is my money bowl, and that’s because it’s tuned to be able to shift focus from day to day depending on what exactly I need (commissions versus tips versus discounts, etc.).

Setting Up an Ambient Spell

Decide where you want to place your spell’s vessel ahead of time. If you have pets or kids, make sure you put whatever it is out of their reach. If the vessel is something like an uncovered bowl, you’ll want to be sure that it isn’t going to get knocked over. Similarly, if it’s made of glass, you don’t want it to fall and shatter. If your vessel needs to be hidden somehow, determine where you’ll keep it. It would be smart to make note of where the spell is and what it looks like in your grimoire or spell notebook just so that if you forget about it, you can identify it later on down the road.

After you know where you want to put it, it’s time to choose ingredients and fill your vessel. The components you decide on should, obviously, match your goals.

Casting an ambient spell is much the same as casting a regular spell. The only thing to keep in mind is that an ambient spell has a sort of prolonged release.

Upkeep and Care of an Ambient Spell

For the most part, ambient spells should require little to no upkeep. With that said, you should still do routine check-ups on them. I include them in my regular rounds when I check on my wards and various protections, but you could do yours whenever it makes the most sense to you.

Depending on how you decided to fuel your spell, you may need to do a bit of feeding. Whether that’s lighting a new candle, refilling a cup of water, mixing around a pile of herbs, or giving the vessel a little shake, do so anytime it feels like the spell’s energy is flagging. It may take some practice in sensing energy to know exactly when a spell needs refueling. This is partly why I suggest creating a schedule to check in on the spell; ambient spells are a great type to practice sensing spell energy, since they’re typically long-lasting and may wax or wane depending on the day.

If your spell is fully self-fueling and it doesn’t seem to be working anymore (or at all, even from the start), it’s time to take it apart. Discard disposable components according to your practice’s tenets. Cleanse the rest for future use. I would suggest washing your spell vessel alongside magical cleansing.

A Ready-to-Use Example

Here’s an extremely simple example of an ambient spell I use in my home to keep the main living area light, fresh, and conducive to getting work done. Since both my partner and I work from home, it’s important that our areas have an aura of focus.

Materials:

- A small bowl, preferably green or brown - Enough salt to fill the bowl halfway - A few pinches of dried rosemary

Instructions:

1. Ensure the bowl is clean and dry. Pour salt into the bowl until it’s halfway full. 2. Sprinkle dried rosemary into the salt and stir. 3. Instruct the spell, in whatever way makes sense to you, to exude focused but calm energy into the space. 4. Place the bowl in an area that is frequently trafficked. 5. Leave the bowl in place until it no longer provides a fresh, focused energy to the space. Dispose of the contents, clean the bowl, and reset the spell.

Notes: - This spell is powered by movement specifically, because both my partner and I work from home, and we pace when we’re having a hard time focusing. The spell draws in the energy from our pacing and the frustration we’re putting out to fuel itself. It then transforms and releases the energy as calm, focus, and productivity. - I suggest a green or brown bowl because this spell is meant to work for our jobs. Green for success, brown for grounding. Personally, my bowl has both colors. - When instructing the spell, you can speak to the bowl, write a petition, do an incantation, or whatever else you like. This is the most personal part of the spell, and it’s what makes the thing Go. It’s up to you to decide how it’s going to work.

Final Thoughts

I would hesitate to call ambient spells “low energy” spellwork. While they can be low-energy-friendly in the long run, and they can be extremely simple to set up (such as the one I described above), they aren’t always. Ambient spells do require an up-front energy cost. Even so, I find them very rewarding and useful.

Folks who visit my home often comment that it’s an inviting, friendly, good-natured space where they can leave their worries and anxieties behind. That’s on purpose. I’ve got ambient spells in place that eat up anxiety and spit out positivity. I’ve got ones that repel hexes and are charged by sunlight. All of these spells are long-lasting and well worth the effort it took to create them.

I hope this little guide is useful to you! If you’ve got questions, feel free to send me an ask. I’m happy to ramble about ambient spells or other types of magic as much as you’d like.

And if you did enjoy this post, consider dropping a couple dollars in my tip jar! Supporters of all types (tips, commissions, shop purchases, and memberships) get early access to posts like this, sometimes up to two weeks early, and every bit helps me keep the lights on.

[mymegumi]

I JUST WANT YOU (FOR MY OWN) ෆ KAMO CHOSO

⠀ warnings: no jujutsu au, situationship/fwb to lovers

⠀ event masterlist ෆ

“please, please stop telling yuuji to do his mariah carey impression, i can only handle so much of his screeching.” you moan, hands over your ears as you tread up the stairs of choso and itadori’s shared apartment. the pink-haired male is still happily singing along to the woman’s christmas hit, but at a much farther distance away so you can hardly hear it now.

“i wouldn’t have had to do that if you didn’t eat the last cookie from yesterday night.” choso says, peeking his head out from the hallway at the top of the stairs, eyebrow raised as he gives you an accusing look. “i even said i was saving it.”

“okay,” you mutter, swiping at his knee playfully as you walk past him to his bedroom, “calling dibs on it while i’m not around means nothing to me.”

choso is sprawled out on the bed when you reach his bedroom, the walls a contrasting dark blue to the light beige carpeting. his bedsheets are, as men are so often predictable, a dark navy with the odd pairing of gray pillowcases. there’s a collection of random objects and souvenirs living on his nightstand, but also scattered among them are your own things, as you’ve come to spend just as much time at choso’s apartment as your own.

“yeah,” he mutters, “well, i didn’t think you were heartless. taking a man’s cookie like that.”

you laugh, falling onto his body and relishing in the way his arms wind around your waist, holding you to him as he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder.

it’s strange—your not-quite relationship with choso. since the two of you have known each other, you’ve been magnets that just couldn’t stay away from one another, and yet neither of you have ever labeled what you were. there was exclusivity in your situation, but there wasn’t a label. you’d only sleep with him and vice versa, and yet there was no girlfriend-boyfriend feeling, no security in the fact that he could technically walk away from you at any minute.

you sigh softly, burying your face in his neck just enjoying the musky smell of him when you feel him shuffle a bit, as if moving to reach something. “you okay? want me to move?”

you can feel, more than you can see, him shake his head, body moving ever so slightly as you feel his hand come up to rest on the back of your head. “you’re okay, don’t worry.”

content to keep your wandering mind to yourself for once, you close your eyes sleepily as you imagine he’s on his phone doing who knows what. there was a point that you had worried maybe he was texting other girls, trying to find a connection that felt better than yours, but there was too much else to be worrying about—other things that required your time and energy and honestly, protecting your peace felt good. not stressing about his every move and his loyalty as a man that wasn’t truly yours was a lot nicer than being anxious about it. instead, you just wanted to enjoy his warmth and listen to his heart beating instead.

it’s this feeling, the feeling of the steady thump of his heart, that lulls you into a light sleep. dancing across your eyelids are you and choso, hands laced and heads pressed together as you laugh and whisper softly, secrets and joys shared between you both.

with a light jostling, choso wakes you with a soft ‘hey’ and unknown amount of time later. blinking, you look up at him as he presents something to you, a small velvet box with cursive gold embossment on the top of it. it makes your breath catch because despite the fact that the two of you have bought each other meals, and occasionally a sweater or a shirt, this was far fancier than what you’d bought him for christmas. you’re quickly snapped from your sleepy reverie to glance between the box and choso’s face in disbelief.

what you’d gotten him for christmas was just a nike hoodie that you had thought he would look good in, and that you were excited to take when his scent was more ingrained in it. while it was a self-indulgent gift, he enjoyed seeing you in his clothes and you were more excited to see his face when you wore it, than you were to see him actually open his gift.

“choso,” you murmur, eyes warily traveling from the velvety red box to his eyes. “you didn’t have to get me something so fancy.”

he didn’t have to get you anything at all, really. did situationships normally give each other gifts for christmas?

“i wanted to.” he mumbles, red slowly rising on the apples of his cheeks as he nudges the box in your direction. “open it, before i die of embarrassment.”

“you look like you’re going to die of embarrassment right now.” you tease, leaning up on one arm to gently take the box from him and laughing as he covers his face with an arm. the velvet is gentle against your fingertips and you notice that you’re shaking, suddenly realizing you’re almost scared to see how precious this gift is.

“i feel like i’m going to.” the words are muffled against his arm and with every breath, his chest is rising and falling sharply. you rub a soothing hand on his chest as you lift the lid of the little box, your own breath catching in your throat.

inside plush black satin, resting ever so prettily are a thin golden necklace and a matching bracelet. even with the limited natural light in choso’s room, the dainty bands sparkle, as if there was a spotlight hidden somewhere to show off their beauty. somehow, as if it were possible, the necklace and the bracelet aren’t the most surprising thing in the box. scrawled on a piece of paper in choso’s messing handwriting, is the simple phrase ‘will you be my girlfriend?’ in black ink. the question makes your heart flutter and immediately your eyes lock with his.

“are you serious?” you ask, mouth agape in sheer surprise. the tips of his ears have flushed bright red, by this point, and he nods shyly as he fiddles with the waistband of your pants. “oh my god, of course!”

you’re moving before you know what’s happening, choso leaning up to wrap you in a tight hug. his arms are wound around you, face buried in your neck as you laugh gently, closing the box and putting it on his sheets, content to put it on when he’s released you from his grasp.

“i was so nervous you were going to say no.” choso whispers into your neck, fingers gripping your clothes.

you shake your head. “i’d be stupid to say no.”

“merry christmas.” he leans back, eyes twinkling and the blush still ever present on his cheeks and ears. “i love you.”

pressing your lips together, hands pressed to both of his cheeks to pull him into you, you can feel a tightness in your chest lifting. his lips are as soft as they always are, lightly taste of vanilla and chocolate, and they slot perfectly against yours—just as he is perfect for you.

“i love you. merry christmas, choso.”

[soiwj]

Tasty Treat

Arlecchino x fem!baker!reader

Link to part 2

Very ooc arlecchino

(i dont know her character wel but she's hot, so i thought I'd give it a shot)

Planning on doing research on her though!!

Fuckk i love women omg

Second mini-fic ever how exciting!!

Please request stuff here!! It's hard to come up with prompts ;-;

I wrote this at 3 am so excuse the lack of structure

You start your usual routine of setting everything up for the day, although today is a bit special. Your bakery doesn't have many customers, considering the place it's in is quite remote. A peaceful forrest that's still in fontaine borders yet far away from any other buildings or people.

You chose this place because you appreciate the beauty and peace that nature brings you. The birds whisteling in the morning, the foxes chittering, the sound of tree leaves rustling. Yet that peace comes with quite a heft price. Loneliness. Besides the old lady that lives in a small village near the forrest, you don't get much human interaction. Even though your bakery is quite big and fits lots of people, you don't really have a lot of customers to share it with.

A week ago, you received a business offer from the house of the hearth. Since the bakery near the orphanage closed down, they don't have any establishments providing them things like breakfast treats and pastries. That's why they're employing you. The contract has you preparing and delivering the food to the hearth.

Even though this seemed like quite a lot of work, you accepted. I mean, how could you not? You get to make pasteries for adorable kids, making them smile, AND you get paid? This is a dream come true. After years of sulking alone in the damp forest serving a customer here and there, you get the privilege of a constant source of profit.

After hours of baking, your tired eyes look at the required amount of food stated in the order, and you realize that this is only enough for the kids. How strange that the boss herself did not order anything. Does she eat breakfast somewhere else? Nevertheless, you decide to make something anyway.

After packing up the orders, you start walking towards the orphanage, barely holding on to the several boxes stacked on top of eachother.

As you arrive, you set the boxes down and ring the orphanage's doorbell. An earie ring echoes from inside.

A tall woman opens the door. Her snow white hair with the occasional black streak looks down at you from the doorframe. Her brows furrow slightly at the sight of you, and the boxes.

"Are you alone?" She asks, you're confused, to say the least. "...yes?" You mutter. "How come you've managed to carry all those boxes on your lonesome?" Her sultry voice sounds out as she crosses her arms in amusement, holding back a grin. Before you can answer, you hear who you assume are the kids, walking slowly towards the persumed dining room.

"I'll help you with these," Arlecchino says curtly as she picks up a few boxes to bring to the kitchen. You pick up the last remaining boxes as you tail behind her.

As you and Arlecchino start unpacking and putting the treats on plates, you can't help but think of how different you expected Arlecchino to be. Clearly, her reputation precedes her. All the while your mind is drifting off to several different subjects, you don't notice the red-crossed eyes staring your way.

After the children finish eating, you stay a while, wanting to hear their opinion on the treats. As you basically survey them, you take the time to get to know some of them. Playing games with them and answering their unending questions.

As you realise you've overstayed your welcome, you say goodbye to the kids and quickly leave the orphanage. On your way back, you reach your hand into your purse, trying to take out your cherry flavored gum. You eventually find it but with it a little pink box brushes your hand. The cookie, you forgot to give it to Arlecchino.

Sat in her office, Arlecchino can't stop thinking about the kind-hearted baker she employed. Just looking at her interacting with the kids made something burn up inside of her. A little warmth that warms her cold, unfeeling heart. She looks out the window, hoping to have some reprieve from this strange feeling. Yet it seems the archons are against her wishes as she sees a certain baker running towards the orphanage. Almost tripping on her way. Even though it is foolish to entertain feelings for such a seemingly simple creature, Arlecchino can't help but grin at another interaction with her. Usually, she doesn't like to play with her food. But this time, she might make you an exception.

You stumble into the building as one of the kids, whom you now know is called Tealus, opens the door for you. With the pink box in hand, you stride through the halls looking for Arlecchino's office. As you ask one of the children, they point to the dark, long hallway without windows. How fitting. Your heels clicking softly as you walk over to her black office double doors. This place seems more like a villain's lair than an orphanage to you now, but you digress.

You knock 5 times in a specific pattern you were used to as a child when you hear a stern "Come in." You pull the golden doorhandle as the office window light starts flooding the hallway. You quickly close the door behind you as you step closer to her desk.

She does not look up from the paperwork on her desk as she multitasks without problem. "Why are you still here, baker." Just because she approves of your bond with the kids does not mean she will treat you differently from other people. "I saw there was nothing for you on the order list, so I made you something." You say proudly. You start rambling as you explain how you forgot to give it to her during breakfast.

She interrupts you as she reaches out her hand. "Can I see it?" You're flustered as you quickly hand her the box. She places it down gently on her desk as she lifts the packaging. Facing Arlecchino is a cookie with a white base, decorated with a black and red spider on top. "How adorable," Arlecchino mutters softly. Your soft 'huh' drives her back to reality as she responds. "I'm not very fond of sweet treats. I prefer savory things." She almost chuckles at the sight of your worried eyes locking with hers. "I can make you something else if you'd like? Hmm, although I can't think of many savory pasteries..." As you start naming some options, you reach for the cookie, trying to throw it away, but Arlecchino's quick reflexes hold your wrist before you can get close. "I thought you didn't like it?" Your confusion radiating off of you. "I never said such a thing. I merely said I prefer savory treats." She softly lets your wrist go as she stores the cookie on a desk extension behind her.

From then on, this has become routine, although some things have changed throughout the weeks. Instead of delivering the food alone, Arlecchino stops by early in the morning to help you carry them. Sometimes, it results in small talk when you haven't finished packing the orders yet.

Usually, she doesn't speak much and lets you do all the talking. You fear she's getting annoyed from your constant ramblings, but unbeknownst to you, she loves it when you talk about your interests and things you love.

This was a bit short, but if you wanna see a specific trope with this situation, you can req anything you wantt!!

Might do a part 2 of this idk yet

[thelostconsultant]

Cookie Monster

pairing: George Russell x reader

summary: George is under the weather thanks to being disqualified, so you try to cheer him up and offer a way to escape the usual madness for the next few weeks.

note: it's short, i know.

George had been in a bad place ever since the decision to disqualify him was made. They took away his well-deserved win, of course it took a toll on him, so the best you could do now was waiting for him to reach out to you. It was truly heartbreaking, because as his race engineer you heard how confident he was about this race, he was managing his tires so well, and then a mere 1.5 kilograms were responsible for this mess.

Even though Lewis already left, Bono decided to stick around a little longer and grab a cup of coffee with you to avert your thoughts with a conversation. It wasn’t about the race, for which you were honestly grateful, and finally you even managed to smile for the first time since the news about the Stewards’ investigation.

You were just about to start telling a story when George showed up and extended his hand for you to grab it. “Let’s just go home, I’ve had enough of this place,” he said with a sad sigh.

Bono nodded with a smile and waved goodbye, urging you to go with your boyfriend. You had barely stood up and George already had an arm around your waist to pull you against his chest, his chin resting on your shoulder as he mumbled something you couldn’t quite understand. You rubbed his back with your hand to soothe him, hoping he would finally tell you exactly what was going on in his head.

But instead of talking, he stepped back and said goodbye to the other race engineer, then took your hand and began to walk towards the door. When you told him you didn’t have your bag and other belongings with you, he just flashed a tired smile at you and said they were already in his car. “Planning ahead as usual,” you noted with a small laugh.

“I just wanted to get out of here as soon as possible,” he replied. 

“It wasn’t your fault, you know that, right?”

George unlocked the car and rested his forearms on top of it as he looked at you through his sunglasses. “Maybe I should’ve gone with two stops. Maybe if–”

You closed the door you’d opened earlier and walked over to him. “Hey, in that case I should have told you to do that. But when you asked if you should stay out, I said go for it. Look, none of us expected this. There were a lot of things we didn’t know. We took a risk and this is what happened, but we need to learn from our mistakes. The season’s not over yet, you have plenty of chances to win again,” you told him with a sweet smile as you reached out to touch his face. 

He leaned into your touch, his eyes watching you with the kind of vulnerability you hadn’t seen in a while. You thought he would say something, but instead he just pulled you closer so he could kiss you, for the first time in hours seeming like he was happy again. Because he’d been in a great mood ever since your relationship began in secret, and maybe it became even better after you told Toto the truth. At first he was mad at you, but then he remembered how well you worked together during the sessions and races, and it made him give you his blessing in the end. 

“Do you really have to visit your family during the break?” he asked as he had you pressed against the side of the car. “It would be so much better to just leave everything behind and hide somewhere far from the people we know.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the idea, which made him raise an eyebrow in question. “Or you could join me. I’m sure my parents would be happy to hide you from the outside world,” you suggested happily.

With a low hum, George seemed to entertain the idea for a moment. You knew he would say no, but you felt like giving him an option that didn’t require you to spend your free time hiding in places you normally would have liked to explore. But then he spoke up again, this time having a small smile on his lips. “You think your mom would bake me some of those cookies you always talk about?” You nodded without hesitation. “All right. I can be bought,” he told you with a laugh before giving you another, quick kiss on the lips.

[missvelvetsstuff]

No Benefits

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

Chapter Notes: I'm really nervous with the direction my muse has taken with this story. I hope I can pull it off. LMK what you think, please.

Previous chapter:

"Cookie!" Bucky roared as he came striding up to her office "What the Hell is this bullshit?"

Chapter 3

Warnings: Swearing, angst, Bucky's a jerk, Sharon Carter sucks

Cookie looked at Bucky with a deep exhaustion caused by researching all night and early morning briefings with the top agents to figure out what to do with Sharon while Bucky was her guard dog. Maria was ready to tear into him. Cookie cleared her throat to gain Maria's attention then made a small shake of her head to ask her to back down, Cookie knew she could handle Bucky by herself.

Maria nodded and left to sit in her office across the hall, leaving the door open just in case.

Cookie straightened her shoulders and sighed "How can I help you Sargent Barnes?"

Bucky glared at her breathing heavily "You know damn well how you can help me. Who the fuck do you think you are making accusations at Sharon like this?" He waved the report in her face until she grabbed it and tore it from his hands.

Holding the partially torn report Cookie stood up to her full height, her heels bringing her eye level with Bucky. She stared at him in his cold blue eyes to show him she wasn't intimidated by him, then walked around her desk to close the door "I don't think it's wise to leave the door open while we discuss top secret intelligence."

She returned to her chair "Please have a seat Sargent." took a deep breath and spoke calmly

"I think, no I'm damn sure I'm the lead east coast Intel analyst who was hand picked from Quantico by Nick Fury while you were still on ice with Hydra, who kept our intel operation running during the Blip while Nick Fury, Maria Hill and....hhmm, oh that's right, You, were all dust in the wind. None of my conclusions were specious and I followed the facts, without prejudice, as my job requires. This has less than nothing to do with your personal, ahem, entanglements. There's solid evidence to back up every claim."

Bucky shook his head "Bullshit. You've been acting put out since I rejected you and found a way to hurt me back. You obviously faked the proof. You better fucking retract this garbage and clear Sharon's name."

Cookie scoffed and shook her head "No Barnes. You're the one who lied to me and decided on your own to end our friendship but this has nothing to do with that." she turned away before he could respond and went into the filing cabinet behind her desk, pulling a thick folder from the top drawer then dropping it heavily on the desk.

"Here is all of the evidence that I have been compiling on the Power Broker since they showed on our radar during the Blip, and spent most of the night organizing. The pictures and the stack with a red paper clip all came in the mail from Latvia a few days ago, the envelope is attached, and was opened in front of Fury and Hill. The night before we received them I was on the phone with my top informant, the one who sent that package, who tried to tell me something about the power broker but was killed while on the phone. Before disconnecting a woman's voice told me to back off of the power broker or I'd be next." She played the recording of that call and others from the same informant.

Bucky shook his head "You've been doing this long enough, you could have made authentic looking evidence. Especially with all the AI stuff. Or had someone do it."

Cookie looked at him like he'd grown another head "Are you serious Barnes? You think I would ever intentionally risk the reputation and career that I've worked my ass off for my entire adult life, over a broken heart? You think that I would ruin someones life and risk legal repercussions on myself over a man? You know what this job means to me and what I've been through to get here."

Bucky hesitated with a pained look on his face and shook his head like he was trying to clear it. There was a voice in the back of his head, telling him this was all wrong but something made him push it down and keep going.

"Well, maybe one of your people is doing it. Are you even sure that informant is dead? Maybe the family is trying to get paid. Or the real power broker is smart enough to lead you to Sharon and you're all too willing to believe the worst because of me."

He paused for a minute "And I heard you call me a liar but I've never lied to you."

Cookie laughed "You sure about that? It's been awhile so I understand if your memory is failing. That morning? The last time you actually acknowledged me outside of work related, yeah you lied to me. Twice actually"

Bucky tried to remember back to that morning, something he tried to avoid because he knew he made one of the worst mistakes of his life. He shook his head to clear the image of her heartbroken face "Yeah I don't know what you're talking about."

Cookie scoffed "Of course you don't, I'm surprised you remembered my name when you came in here. First, you told me you weren't ready for a relationship but you jumped into one with Sharon before her car cooled down" Bucky opened his mouth to protest but she glared at him and he backed down "and second, you told me you loved me and wanted to stay friends but went to ignoring me before my tears dried."

She felt her eyes filling up and cursed "Fuck. You even started leaving the room if I was there. Do you know how it feels to have one of your so called best friends cut you out of their life like you were dog shit on their shoe?" She cleared her throat and wiped her tears.

"I would never frame someone, ever. No matter how I felt about them. Not even you."

Bucky stared at her then winced as though he was in severe pain and dropped his head into his palms before speaking again.

"Well something is going on somewhere because I know, in my gut that Sharon isn't the power broker. There's no way."

He picked his head up and looked at Cookie

"I'm not in a relationship with her, we're just friends. And I didn't lie, I was wrong. I thought I wanted to stay friends with you but I don't, I can't. You're always looking at me and making me feel guilty and I don't deserve that. Plus you've been nasty to Sharon since she got here, don't think she hasn't told me about the horrible comments you make to her."

Cookie laughed "This is the most we've spoken in months, I'm not doing anything to make you feel guilty. That's all on you. But Sharon has you all twisted around because she's the one making nasty comments to me."

Bucky bristled "I don't have anything to feel guilty for. I've done nothing wrong and Sharon wouldn't lie to me."

She shrugged "If you say so, I didn't say anything. Now I've given you the details and shown the evidence. What you do is on you."

Bucky stood up, winced again and shook his head "I don't know if you did it or someone you're working with but I do know someone is trying to frame Sharon and you're going along with it. I'll prove you're wrong, that's what I'm gonna do."

Cookie scoffed "Good luck with that, Barnes"

Bucky put his hands on her desk and leaned into her space, his voice quiet and cold "I'll prove you're doing this because of your jealousy and your job and reputation will be over."

Cookie spat at him "Go fuck yourself Barnes, if you think that poorly of me you obviously never knew me. I have never been anything less than thorough and professional. I guess I should be grateful you panicked and cut me out of your life before I let myself get too attached. Good luck with Carter and get the Hell out of my office."

She sat down and went back to the packets she was finishing.

Bucky stood and stared like he was expecting something to happen before turning around and stalking off to find Sharon.

He woke up in the dark, with Sharon curled into him and looked at his watch. 9pm? Not again, his last memory was yelling at Cookie after breakfast then finding Sharon but nothing after that. He decided he had enough and scheduled an appointment with medical in the morning to see if they could help him figure out why he kept losing time.

Cookie spent the rest of the day in more briefings with senior agents to discuss the Sharon Carter problem and how to negate it. Bucky Barnes attachment to Carter was discussed as well since he had already started causing trouble over the revelations and couldn't be trusted to do the right thing.

When she was asked why they couldn't just arrest Sharon and tranq Bucky if he caused a problem, Cookie told them about her concerns that Sharon had an ally in the intel department that needed to be weeded out before Sharon.

She was back in her office, cleaning up her desk for the day when Sharon Carter herself wandered in, sat down and waited expectantly for Cookie to speak.

"What can I do for you agent Carter? I'm a little busy."

Sharon smirked "I know what you're trying to do and I understand. You're in love with Barnes and he wants me. It sucks and I know you must be hurting but slandering me won't get him back. In fact he ran to me this morning to tell me what you were trying to do and wondering why you wanted to hurt him so bad. I told him I would work it out with you."

Her face turned nasty "So here's how this is gonna work. You are going to stop trying to smear my name and leave Barnes alone, he doesn't need or want you. Think you can handle that?"

Cookie kept her face blank. "I don't need you to tell me how to do my job, agent Carter, so get the Hell out of my office."

Sharon laughed "Don't mess with me Cookie, I'm not the girl you want to play with."

Cookie faked an exaggerated yawn "Sure Carter, I'm scared."

Sharon smirked "It doesn't matter what evidence you have, you know. Barnes won't believe you. You could record me telling you that I'm the power broker and want the Soldat to be my enforcer because that's the truth." She grinned and winked "and show it to him. He won't believe you, he's already mine." She sighed "Of course now that you're on to me I will have to adjust my plans but he will want to go with me, even beg to come to protect me from all of you.

Don't chase us little girl, you won't like what you catch."

Her grin grew to something that would rival the Joker "In fact, go ahead and show him. I know FRIDAY is recording all this so let's go and show him. I want you to see how pointless this all is so you can leave us alone."

Her face hardened "Let's go" she grabbed Cookie by her upper arm and dragged her away from her desk. Cookie tried to fight her but she wasn't great with hand to hand, give her a weapon and she might have a chance but Sharon didn't give her the opportunity to grab anything.

When they arrived at Bucky's room Sharon's face softened before Bucky answered the door.

"Hey doll, you don't have to knock just-" he stopped and frowned when he saw Cookie "What the Hell is going on, Cookie have you been harassing Sharon?"

He looked to Sharon for an explanation.

Sharon was able to squeeze a tear from her eye "I was by her office to talk to Maria and Cookie said she was watching me and knew she could prove that I'm the power broker. Listen to what she said. Friday can you play the audio from my talk in Cookies office a few minutes ago?"

"Of course agent Carter."

A recording started of Sharon and Cookies interaction in her office. Bucky started listening with a passive face but he grew angrier with everything Sharon said.

Cookie felt hopeful that he would finally see the truth about Sharon but he aimed his ire at her.

"Seriously Cookie? You just can't let it go can you? Sharon hasn't done anything except make me happy and it's killing you. Like I'm some prize to be won. I never thought you would compromise yourself like this but maybe I'll have a talk with Fury and Hill about your obsession with me."

Cookie just stared at him, trying to figure out what the Hell he was talking about. They both heard Sharon say she was the power broker but he still didn't believe it. "Are you listening to the same audio I am Barnes? She said right there shes the power broker and wants the Winter Soldier to be her enforcer."

Bucky glared at her "Jesus Cookie, that's not even close to what she said. Maybe you need to take a vacation because you're losing it."

He looked her up and down "Honestly you look like shit. When did you stop taking care of yourself? I definitely wouldn't have slept with you if you looked like this."

Sharon just stood next to Bucky grinning like a JackAss at Cookie. "I told you Cookie, he's mine so let it go."

Cookie took a breath then turned and walked away without another word. Sharon must have found some way to brainwash him again and Cookie knew there was nothing she could do right now except notify Fury and Hill that Bucky was under Sharon's control so they could work on getting him back. They scheduled a meeting for first thing the next morning at 5am.

Cookie was woken up by her phone ringing at 3am after just falling asleep. It was Sam, Bucky and Sharon were gone, Stark phones and tracking devices left sitting on the desk in his quarters.

Chapter 4

The Power Broker and The Winter Soldier, in the wind.

@erelierraceala @capswife @ozwriterchick @cjand10 @wintrsoldrluvr @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @browneyedgrli @greatenthusiasttidalwave @hhiggs @dontworryboutitsweetheart-blog @behindmygreyeyes @pattiemac1 @calwitch @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @ordelixx

[olsenmyolsen]

softly dusting crumbs from their cheeks when eating

R doing that to Kate after Kate's demolished the plate of cookies that R baked for her.

Chocolate Chip Cookies!

maroon master list . dark master list . request marvel master list . short n’ sweet master list

Post: Hawkeye / The Marvels (Female Reader X Kate Bishop)

Summary: You and Kate talk while baking.

Word Count: 1.4K

Content: Fluff, Comfort, Feelings

Being the only one on the new team to use the kitchen properly had pros and cons.

Pro: You could make whatever you wanted.

Con: You had to do the dishes after you made your fabulous meals and desserts.

Pro: It made everyone like and appreciate you more!

Con: People then loved to "subtly" drop hints about what they wanted you to make.

Regardless, you still loved to bake and be one with the kitchen, as America Chavez loved to point out!

"Whatcha making?" Kamala asked as she wandered through the kitchen in her pajamas without even looking up from her phone. You glanced up at the sound of her voice before looking at the clock on the microwave, confused. It was 4:13 pm.

Had she crashed at the YA Building??

You tilted your head and continued placing chocolate chip cookie dough balls onto a tray as the oven preheated. "Kamala, did you go to class today?" You asked, knowing how much being the hero of New Jersey affected Kamala's college studies. "Dude, it's Saturday," Kamala said without lifting her eyes from her phone.

You couldn't tell if she was playing a game or texting Bruno about how she needed him to hack into something or other. Either way, you shook your head. "Kamala, it's Friday." You knew precisely what day it was because... Oh man, what was the saying in Germany?

It's Strawberry Week.

Kamla lifted her head. "What?!" She said, eyeing you before looking at her phone. Her mouth dropped open as she scrambled up off the couch. "Oh my god!" She yelled. "I have a paper to turn in!"

And just like that, Kamala was gone.

"Okay." You said to yourself as you removed your gloves and threw them away before moving some dirty dishes into the sink to wash later.

"Oh, cool cookie dough!" The voice of your friend America startled you and made you jump. "Oh fuck!" You yelled as you caught your breath and swung around to view America with her eyes above the remaining cookie dough.

"Can I have?" She only used those three words to ask. You shook your head. "No, America, you'll get sick!" You replied, knowing how America loves to eat.

Dimensional jumping was tiring and made her a bottomless pit.

"Oh, come on, just one lick of the spoon?!" Your friend whined as she followed you to the sink with the bowl of the leftover cookie dough. You sighed. The younger woman would just pester you anyway. "Fine. Just one." You gave her the spoon, and before you could say anything else, she opened a portal and was gone.

You could hear a pin drop.

"That was my favorite wooden spoon..." You whispered as you were now alone in the kitchen. Luckily, the oven had your back and broke you out of your solemn thoughts by beeping to let you know it was now fully heated for cookies. Slowly, you walked over to the tray of cookies and popped them into the oven.

"Okay, we'll check them in about 12 minutes." You said as you spoke to yourself after setting an alarm on your phone and then opening Spotify. Being left alone with your thoughts for too long was hazardous, so why not listen to your favorites while washing some dishes?

About halfway through singing and swaying to a certain pop star's lyrics, you heard the sounds of a golden retriever. You looked up and over in surprise to see Lucky as he barreled towards you. "Pizza Dog!" You shouted with glee as you threw off the soapy gloves and bent down to get kissed attack by the canine after stopping your music.

However, as much as you loved Lucky, you would have to say his owner tops that.

She could top you, too, but that would require being vocal and honest about your crush on Kate Bishop.

So you'll settle for dog kisses.

"Pizza Dog!" Kate exclaimed as she ran into the kitchen from around the corner, dropping her bow and quiver of arrows in the hallway. "Kate, he's fine!" You reassure your friend and fellow teammate as she runs to where you and her pet are on the hardwood floor.

She squats beside you and laughs as Lucky doesn't stop showing you how happy he is to see you.

"Dman, I don't even think I get this much love." You laugh at Kate's claim. "Please, I think he smells the cookie dough on me." Kate makes an "ah" sound and rises up to look at the pile of dishes you were working on. You follow her up.

"Where's your cookie spoon?" Kate asks after seeing it missing. You sighed. "With America. She did her portal thing, so who knows where she and the spoon are." Kate nodded her head and did her best not to let the smile creep on her face.

But she failed as she looked at you.

You and Kate both knew getting sad over a wooden spoon was silly, but seeing how glum you were about it made Kate want to laugh.

Coming from a good place, of course.

"Well, do you need any help?" Kate asked as she went to wash her hands. You shook your head. "No. I got it taken care of." You lifted up your phone. "Thank you, though." You smiled at Kate and averted your eyes before you were caught staring at her striking beauty.

Thank goodness she didn't have any bandages on her face.

Those made you borderline feral.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to be a taste tester," Kate said, bumping shoulders with you after looking you up and down. You started washing your hands and laughed with a slight blush on your cheeks. "Fine by me."

Any reason to be with Kate was good enough for you.

"So, what was your latest mission?" You asked as Pizza Dog went off into another room, and Kate sat at the kitchen bar. Kate looked over your face and smiled as she thought about it. "Stakeout. I was watching some wannabe mafia group. It was boring. I spent most of my time doodling."

"Oh, I have to see those pieces of art!" You said it as a joke, but deep down, you were dead serious. Kate laughed and made a note to show you sometime in the future while she started to play with her fingers. Kate tried to play it cool, but being around you made her nervous. Not because you were scary or anything but because Kate liked you.

Like really liked you!

"So, which cookies did you make today?" Kate said as you finished the dirty dishes and washed your hands. "Chocolate Chip." You replied with a smile back at the archer.

Chocolate Chips weren't Kate's favorite, yet she said: "My favorite!" and lifted her cheeks as you looked happy.

Over the course of the next few minutes, you and Kate talked about anything that came to your mind. Whether it was TikTok trends, gossip about the Old Avengers, or what to do with the upcoming holidays.

Whether you would go with Kate or not to the Barton's farm.

The answer was still in the air as silence surrounded you two until Kate broke it by looking you up and down as you glanced at your phone. "Hey..." Kate started after clearing her throat. You looked towards her. Kate took that as a sign to continue. "So I've been thinking..." Kate's voice wavered as she did her best to be brave. "And I don't know if this is dumb or if I maybe have read it wrong, but..."

You were fully engaged in whatever Kate had to say, but your 12-minute timer for the cookies went off, interrupting Kate. You gave Kate an apologetic smile, who nodded that it was okay as you turned to the oven and pulled out the tray of cookies with your bare hands.

It helped that one of your powers was no pain.

You looked the cookies over and ensured they were baked enough to cool down. When satisfied, you turned off the oven and went back to Kate.

"So you were saying?" You smiled and gave her your full attention. Kate blushed and opened her mouth.

Chocolate Chip cookies ended up being Kate's favorite after that day.

And you couldn't help but laugh at your girlfriend's face as you softly brushed her cheeks after she demolished the plate of cookies you made.

They were for everybody, but after that day, Kate got the first pick for everything.

dividers by @/benkeibear

[fourmoony]

hello, you could do something with Sirius by going to meet the reader's parents (Sirius was insecure about this), but he is welcomed and the reader's whole family seems to love him

thanks for requesting, sweetheart!! 847 words f!reader

this is short and thrown together worse than Sirius' cookies. sorry.

Sirius is crowded around your niece, boxing her in against the counter as she stands on her cooking stool. He'd been the only one left with enough energy to make cookies with her after dinner. It's sweet, the gentle tone he uses with her, the patience he has that allows her to do everything by herself. He doesn't balk when she spills all of the measured flour straight onto the counter, just hands her the bag with extra caution and tells her he'll tidy it up later, that mistakes happen.

They're in their own little world, unaware, or simply uncaring, of the eyes on them. You know a little about Sirius' past; his horrible family, his traumatic upbringing, how he never truly felt loved by anyone except his younger brother until he ran away and the Potters took him in. It would've been enough for you to assume the idea of doing such an activity, that requires such patience and acceptance of mess, would send Sirius spiralling. Except, he's embraced it openly, he was more than willing, and he seems to be truly enjoying himself.

In all the time you've known Sirius, you've known him to love loud and abrasive. He's jagged around the edges, a bright, shattered light of chaos and pure energy. He's over the top, loves too hard, is quick to anger. But with your niece, it's the first time you've ever seen Sirius quiet, soft. He's all gentle movements and murmured encouragements, and you like this version of him, but you find yourself waiting for your Sirius to return. The Sirius who can command a room with a single smile, whose laugh sounds more like a barking doberman, whose presence takes up every last drop of attention.

He'd been so nervous about meeting your family. Understandable, given his own upbringing. But, he never had any reason to worry. Not with the way your sister and mother watch him, black top and jeans covered in flower, dried egg white smeared across his cheek, and still, a wide smile across his lips every time your niece turns around, as if checking he's still there. Still encouraging her. He always is.

"You think you'll have one soon?" Your sister asks. There's a sly smirk on her face, as though the sight before you was purposefully designed to make you broody.

You answer with a shrug. You're not broody, but theres a glow to your heart with the idea of this being healing for Sirius. "Not sure. We've never spoken about it."

Your family don't know about Sirius' past, at his request. He'd wanted to earn their respect, not receive it through pity. You can't wait to tell him they respect him beyond what he could've ever imagined. He'll be so happy. He'd spent the whole way over fretting about whether he'd picked the right outfit, the right aftershave, what he should and shouldn't say. You didn't have the heart to tell him that your family, whether or not they'd met him before, already loved him, simply because of how happy he made you.

"You'd make cute babies." Your sister tilts her head to the side, very obviously ogling your boyfriend and you scoff.

"Subtle."

She shrugs, unfazed.

"I'm just saying. No man I've ever met has the patience for toddlers the way he does." She picks up her wine glass, takes a pointed sip, eyebrows raised.

"We'll see." You reply.

"He makes you happy. It's hard to watch your daughters grow up, navigate life and love," Your mother chips in, hands splayed out across the dining table, "It's hard to watch them fall, pick themselves back up, and fall again. Hard to watch them trust the wrong people. But I have no doubt that man would ever hurt you. He, perhaps, loves you more than anyone in this world."

It's a nice thought. The idea of Sirius loving you most. Your eyes find his, conversation coming to a halt as he lifts your niece out of her cooking stool and she toddles over to your sister.

The cookies are in the oven, and Sirius has gotten straight to the task of cleaning up. You join him, piling bowls and utensils into the dish washer whilst he wipes the copious amounts of spilled flour off of the counter.

"You think tonight went okay?" He asks, nervous eyes flicking to where your mother and Sister are fussing over your niece.

You lean across, lips pressed to the cracked egg white smudged across his cheek, "More than. They love you."

Your boyfriend breathes out in relief, "Thank god, because I have no idea how to make cookies and I need them to already like me when they taste them, in case they fail."

A startled laugh tumbles out of your lips and Sirius follows. Your Sirius, loudest laugh in the room, the man with the biggest heart you've ever known - even if it's bruised and battered.

"I'm sure it'll be fine, babe."

Sirius tsks, "You say that now, let's just wait and see if I give anyone salmonella."

[robthegoodfellow]

Let's Hear It for the Boy

Praise Kink for Day 3 of @harringrovekinktober

(roommates, kink experimentation, billy is a good boy, nsfw)

Steve felt like a real asshole when Robin asked out of the blue one day, maybe a month after he and Billy became roommates, if Billy was paying part of his rent in labor. Shave some off if he agreed to be your housekeeper? And, at Steve’s incredulous bafflement, had clarified: Every time I’m over he’s cooking or doing laundry or—cleaning shit! To his horror, a highlight reel started up in his mind, a montage of Billy doing all those chores and more, and worse, Steve realized he’d contributed approximately nothing to the daily maintenance of their shared living space. Steve! Robin had scolded, correctly interpreting his guilty grimace. 

So he’d promised to talk to Billy about it—assure him that keeping the place sparkling was in no way required or expected or—or if that was just how he preferred to live, then he’d promise to do his fair share from now on. Only, bringing it up over pizza and beer, a basketball game on TV, had produced an unexpected reaction. Billy… kinda… froze? Went bug-eyed, like Steve had caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. He looked embarrassed.

“Man, it’s fine,” Steve said, tripping over himself to explain—put him at ease. “I really don’t care either way. I just wanted to check and make sure you knew I wasn’t gonna, like—kick you out if you let up on the Cinderella routine.”

Billy flushed more, beet red, and Steve resisted smacking himself in the face. He was fucking this up so bad.

“I mean—”

“I don’t mind,” Billy mumbled, avoiding Steve’s eye as he reached for his beer. “I like it.”

“Okay,” Steve said, over the top encouraging. “Great. Well, I’ll at least pitch in more—”

“You don’t have to do that.” Billy’s throat worked, gulping, plush lips pursed on the can. Steve blinked, shook his head, tuned back in to catch the muttered aside, blue gaze locked on the Michelob commercial. “It’s all good. Nothing has to change.”

Why the hell was he being so weird about this? Did he think Steve couldn’t chip in? Pull his own weight?

“Just because I grew up with a nanny doesn’t mean I don’t know how to do stuff. Vacuum and dishes and—”

Billy grunted, annoyed, throwing his shoulders back to wedge himself into the couch, a mulish slouch. “Just drop it, will ya? I like things how they are, so what’s the fucking problem?”

“All right, jeez,” Steve cried, holding up his hands. “Touchy.”

They were quiet, both ticked, but the kind that would drain away by halftime. Except—he felt shitty just leaving it like this, having semi-acknowledged that Billy was acting like his maid.

“Is there anything I can do?” Steve asked, his tone deliberately mild, not looking away from the freethrow swishing on screen. “That you don’t like?”

No explosion—good sign. After a long, loaded pause, Billy sighed. “Take out the trash.”

“Got it,” Steve said. And let it go.

But from then on, he kept watch, determined to figure out the source of the weirdness. Almost positive it wasn’t a control freak thing or a neat freak thing—it wasn’t like the apartment was pristine. It was more that… everyday, Billy had done something obvious enough that Steve commented on it—always had. Nothing major, just Oh, hey—you got that stain out of the carpet or Holy shit, it smells so good—what is that? or How’d you unclog that drain? Wasn’t like he thanked Billy, though he probably should have been—although maybe Billy didn’t want him to make a big deal out of it?—but he’d always notice and say something admiring because Billy was good at stuff. Good at so much stuff.

He started taking out the trash, and Billy never let on that he noticed, but Steve thought he did. And he kept up the compliments whenever Billy did something nice, since that hadn’t been explicitly forbidden. But since he was paying more attention now, he—noticed some things. Only when he was pretending to look elsewhere, monitoring Billy in his periphery or in the reflection of the window or decorative mirrors his mom had foisted on him. He noticed that, those times, Billy sort of… ducked his head, hiding a grin that bordered on… bashful? And his shoulders bowed a bit, like he was—curling in on himself. Like—in delight?

Like—he secretly really liked it? When Steve noticed he’d done something nice? When Steve said something nice about it?

So… he decided to test it. Nothing too overbearing or obvious, just—instead of merely noticing, he was sure to compliment. Because why not, if Billy liked it and still wouldn’t let Steve lift a finger except on garbage day?

Good became his go-to. This tastes so good. That looks so good. Good, good, good.

Which is when it clicked for him—that Billy didn’t do chores and stuff because he liked the chores. But because… he liked Steve’s reaction?

And—that would explain his weirdness. Why he didn’t want to talk about it. Like maybe he was worried Steve would think Billy liked being his bitch or something—Steve winced, anticipating the whack from the Robin who lived in his head—not that Steve thought of him that way.

…Though if he didn’t mind Steve thinking of him that way—or even liked it, then…

Well, Steve didn’t—dislike that. Like the general concept. Held a certain—

Anyway, in the interest of further—ah, testing, Steve mentioned, casually, on his way to work one morning, “I’ve been craving that pasta salad you made.”

Billy cut him a glance over his coffee where he was hunched at the kitchen table. Grunted, and Steve quirked a grin, tossed him a salute goodbye. It wasn’t even a lie—the pasta thing—he’d been salivating at the memory. This version with Italian dressing instead of mayo, with olives and stuff. 

Lo, late that afternoon, when he got back, there was a big Tupperware of it in the fridge. Billy wandered in halfway through his second helping. They paused, wide-eyed at the sudden charge buzzing in the air, and Steve’s stomach clenched.

“It’s—good,” he managed, hands suddenly clammy around his fork and bowl. Billy was staring at Steve’s hands, held awkwardly aloft where he leaned on the counter. The stare was strangely heavy—hooded lids. Steve cleared his throat. “You—did good.”

Billy’s cheeks were as flushed as that day on the couch, watching basketball, insisting he liked—

Abruptly aware his boner was starting to tent his shorts, Steve turned to face the counter, ducking to shovel more pasta in his idiot mouth. Heard Billy go to the cabinet, fetch a glass. Fill it. Walk back out.

Heaving an unwinding breath, Steve set down the bowl, let his elbows bear the weight of this latest sexual awakening.

So that was a thing, apparently—and for Billy, too, potentially. Probably. Because, without quite meaning to, they fell into this little routine where, before Steve left for work, he’d pause, and Billy would look up from his coffee, and Steve would mention something—a rental movie he wanted to see, or a sale at the liquor store, or if Billy would mind throwing Steve’s whites in with his so he’d have a shirt to wear to this meeting later in the week…

And the VHS would be waiting on the counter. And a six-pack would be waiting in the fridge. And his shirt would be washed and ironed and waiting in his closet. And everytime Billy would be lingering nearby, not quite meeting his eyes, and Steve’s pulse would pound even though technically there was nothing sexy about an ironed shirt, and Steve would say Good. You did good.

Billy would sometimes clench his fist, when Steve said it. Or squirm in his seat a bit. Or swallow, throat bobbing. Color rising. And the sight hit Steve like a load of bricks. A load of bricks to the head.

It was the weirdest game of gay chicken—scrambling to find mundane tasks for Billy to complete for the prize of a pat on the back, when all Steve wanted, and he bet Billy felt similarly, was to order Billy to his knees.

He thought about it whenever they were on the couch watching TV, whenever they were eating in the kitchen or drinking on the balcony or passing each other outside the bathroom in the morning.

So he tested further. Came home and went to see if Billy had done it—and there he was, standing by Steve’s bed. The neatly made bed. 

Steve’s heart was rabbiting out of his chest, too on the fritz to form words, and his feet weren’t much better, charting a crooked, clumsy course until they were toe to toe, Billy’s gaze downcast, his lips parted, breaths shallow. 

He didn’t know whether it’d sound stupid if he said it out loud, what he’d been wanting to say for days—whether Billy wanted to hear, or would consider it a step too far.

They’d come this far, though. Steve wet his lips, took a calming breath, and Billy seemed to brace for it. “Good,” Steve said, and it came out breathy. “Good boy.”

Billy curled—did that thing where he ducked, hunching around something invisible—and the sound punched out of him, this pained gasp. Steve’s hands moved on their own, reaching to cradle Billy’s head, step close to whisper in his ear, his brow at Steve’s shoulder: “Good? Is this good?” Felt more than saw him nodding. “You want to be good for me?”

“Fuck,” Billy whispered—bit wheezing. Wet. “Fuck.”

“What do you want?” Steve asked, fumbling at his heated neck. “What do you—?”

“Be good.” It was mumbled, cringing. “Wanna be good.” A shaky inhale. “Make you feel good.”

Steve’s blood was roaring everywhere but his brain—would’ve fallen over if he weren’t clutching Billy. “Want that, too.”

He heard a thready laugh, and Billy straightened, leaning back into his hold, face tipped, lidded gaze on Steve’s chin. “So?”

So what’ll it be?

Buying himself time to gather his wits, some composure lest he combust, Steve tilted his head, assessing. Adjusting his hold, ran a thumb across Billy’s lower lip, firm enough to pull at the skin. “Want this.” Another swipe, exposing teeth, his curving tongue. “Make me feel good with this.”

A tug at his belt, and Billy was nodding, making short work of the button and zip—movements quick and precise. He sank, kneeling at Steve’s feet, tugging the pants to hang at midthigh, and finally looked up. 

Steve swept blond curls off his forehead. “Like you like this.”

Billy stared, eyes gleaming. Seemed to be—waiting.

“So good like this,” Steve corrected. “Now show me how good.”

Swaying, Billy buried his face in Steve’s briefs, nosing him through straining cotton, and huffed hot air at the crown. Steve compulsively gripped fistfuls of hair, still using Billy’s ears as handlebars, and resolved not to let go—to let Billy show him.

And, boy, did he. Laved at his dick until the fabric was soaked, the white gone translucent—white gone flushed pink, twitching under kitten licks—and Steve was on the verge of begging when a pull at his waistband freed his cock, bobbing only a sec before swallowed in Billy’s grip, fed into his greedy mouth.

Steve’s entire vocabulary had been reduced to one word, babbled at the ceiling behind closed lids: good, good, good, only sometimes it came out guh, guh, guh. One hand cupped the back of Billy’s head, and it was when his hips were on a steady grinding roll that he realized he’d caged Billy against him, locked the gulping heat around his cock as he plugged toward the peak.

Billy wasn’t struggling, though—his fingers biting into the meat of Steve’s ass, moaning so deep in his chest that Steve felt it more than heard it.

Steve grappled for a new word—close, close—but Billy didn’t stop, didn’t let up a second, and when Steve grunted his release, the throat worked around him still. 

The moment Billy pulled off, lungs heaving, face ruby red and shining, Steve flopped to his knees, blindly reached for Billy, draping loose arms around his neck, his ribs, waiting for his own breaths to slow.

“Was it,” Billy asked, tight. “Was it—?”

“Good,” Steve said, huffing a laugh, coasting hands across the bellows of his back. “So good—you’re so good. Always so good for me.”

Billy burrowed his face into Steve’s throat, his collarbone, looping him in an uncertain hug. He was hard, pressed against where Steve’s clothes gaped open. Working a hand between them, Steve rubbed his palm along rigid heat. 

“What do you want?” he asked, nuzzling the nest of blond. “Since you been so good?”

A shudder ran up the sloping spine. Steve smoothed his free hand down to Billy’s waist and back up, waiting.

“I—cleaned the shower,” Billy said, halting. “I could—show you, and—?”

Steve kissed his temple, quick, so helplessly fond. Overwhelmed.

“Good boy wants a wash?” Steve suggested, and tightened his arms when Billy tried to do his pillbug thing. “Be my good boy,” he said, hushed, nosing Billy’s flushed ear. “You want to?”

And Billy curled again, only this time around him. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah.”

.

Now with added sequel: Let's Give the Boy a Hand

[theobsessedcookiefan]

I HAD THIS DRAFTS AAA 😭😭😭😭 (It's happiness).

Okay some clarifications, y/n in this story will be an apprentice witch, she won't be one of the ones who created the heroes, also I will call Shadow Milk Cookie Blueberry Milk Cookie since I think they had that kinda name before, I don't think for example Silent Salt was called that before that corruption right?

:ﾟ･*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

❀•°•═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════•°•❀

Part 1. The Tower and the Witch.

"What story do you want me to tell you?" Asked the older cookie to a group of little ones gathered around him. "The one about the hero and the witch!" One of the little ones replied. "Yes! I like that one!" Replied another, finally the old man gave up and smiled. "Okay, but no interrupting me this time."

❀•°•═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════•°•❀

The heroes of Earthbread, the closest thing the cookies had to deities besides their creators the witches; we all know the story, five heroes created and blessed by them, gaining powers beyond the comprehension of any common cookie. For example we have the cookie holder of the virtue of knowledge; Blueberry Milk Cookie, he spent day and night in his research, looking for answers to the strangest questions he could think of, which led him to discover the Witches' Banquet.

At first he thought it was just a legend, something parents told their children to obey them; "If you're good maybe the witches will take you with them and invite you to the Banquet." He heard a lot of parents say already, so it wasn't crazy to think that it was indeed a legend, but as the days passed in his research he found several clues that indicated that it did in fact exist! This did nothing but feed the curiosity of our hero, he wanted to know more about his creators and get answers to several questions; Why the cookies existed and why he and his friends were the ones chosen to carry such power were two of them.

Without wasting any more time he waited until the next date in which the legends said that the Banquet took place, when that awaited moment arrived he immediately went to the place where it was supposed to happen, he found something? Yes, a somewhat high tower that seemed abandoned at first sight, the smoke coming out of the chimney was barely noticeable to the eye. With a little effort and using his skills to climb the tower he managed to get to the window of the tower and take a little look inside, wow indeed it was big, bigger than when he was in his bigger form so it was definitely a witch tower and the best of all was that everything was perfectly taken care of, it looked so tidy and so pretty that he felt kinda bad to enter it uninvited, everything was clear until he heard a sound of something moving slightly, when he looked in the direction where that sound came from he saw a.. a witch? Yes, that was it, even though she was lying on a table, her clothes could be seen, it was just as the books described her, an apron and a pointed hat, besides being quite big.

Carefully he approached, using those shelves full of books to hide himself, he even had to dodge fallen things and jump through the spaces between shelves, adventure was definitely not his thing; he would have liked to stay in his own tower to do his writing, although science and knowledge require sacrifice and hard work! Or well, that's what he thought. As he approached the sleeping (or so he hoped) witch, he noticed a potions book on the table, there came instructions on how to make a love potion, huh- that was weird, witches were supposed to be the creators of their entire species, he never thought that on top of that they also created potions; that made them even stranger to his point of view.

As he got closer and closer he finally got as close as he could, being mere centimeters away from that big figure, it seems that the aroma of blueberries that he gave off did not pass unnoticed though, because little by little she began to wake up, with worry he took a few steps back and hid behind an inkwell.

"Mhh.. What time is it?" He heard that witch say in that tone of someone waking up after a long nap, as he stood up he noticed that she was actually taller than what he had seen from the window and that gave him a little shiver; in the stories they always talked about how witches as well as they could be merciful they were still like goddesses to them, they shouldn't be angered. He considered his options for a few minutes; either he stayed hidden and searched among those millions of books for the answers he was looking for or he made himself present and asked directly, because both options had several ups and downs, for example staying hidden and searching in books was the idea he liked the best since he would stay hidden and safe, but the downside was that he would have to look in millions of books too big even if he increased his size and he would also have to be careful not to be seen, on the other hand if he made himself present there were two possible results: either he was accepted and his doubts were solved or he would be crumbled by the witch.... Umm, difficult decisions indeed.

Finally he decided, he would show himself to the witch and hope for the best outcome. With a sigh, he came out of hiding, eyes closed and waiting for the witch's reaction... Nothing happened-, when he opened one eye he realized that the witch was no longer there; she was now in the other part of the tower, looking for something on a shelf, well that gave him time to think what she would say "Good morning! I'm Blueberry Milk Cookie, the cookie who possesses the virtue of knowledge." Umm no, too formal... "Hi, I came into your house through the window I hope I'm not disturbing you." That would make him sound like a weirdo- "Miss witch I demand answers!" No, just no! It was too much pressure to do something so soon. He seemed to take too long to decide as he heard the witch's voice again. "Can I help you?" She sounded as confused as he was at that strange interaction as it was as if a divine being was talking to you so casually like that. "Oh! I mean... I, umm, can you?" Shit, that was not a good first impression. "I mean.. Yes! You can and I'd appreciate it if you would!"

❀•°•═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════•°•❀

:ﾟ･*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

A/N: I personally imagine he looks like this before corruption:

(IF SOMEONE KNOWS THE ARTIST PLS TELL ME)

[empty-cryptid]

It's midnight, and there's an elusive mosquito flying around my room preventing me from sleeping, so here are some cooking headcanons for the Madrigals:

Alma: She can cook well but tends to stick to the same meals all the time. She doesn't try many new things in the kitchen and is wary of new food items.

Félix: He is a grilling master. Give him an open fire to cook over, and he can make anything taste great.

Julieta: She had an interest in cooking from a young age, and her gift solidified her place in the kitchen. She can make anything, and everything she makes is perfectly seasoned. She likes to experiment - her siblings or Agustín and Félix are always the taste testers.

Pepa: She never had an interest in cooking, so she tends to burn things when she gets bored and distracted. She makes the best coffee, though.

Agustín: He's a clumsy disaster with everything he does (except being a dad) and that doesn't change in the kitchen. If he cooks, he ends up injured, something is set on fire or broken, and the food ends up ruined somehow. He still likes to be there as moral support while Julieta is cooking though, and serves as a taste tester when required.

Bruno: He's a mediocre cook and everything he makes isn't bad, but he does tend to undercook things because he's anxious about burning it, opens the oven too often to check on stuff, or flips things so much that they end up breaking apart.

Isabela: She likes to study herbs and other edible plants in order to improve them, but would rather have other people cook with them. She would much rather spend her time growing the food and working in a garden than cooking with it. She makes the best tea, though, and loves experimenting with tea mixes.

Dolores: She doesn't have much of an interest in cooking, but does like to make soup. The quiet bubbling sound that the boiling soup stock makes is soothing and drowns out some of the other noises her ears are constantly picking up. It's a long and quiet process that she enjoys.

Luisa: She loves to bake. Bread, cookies, cakes, and other desserts are her favourite things to make. She will often ask Isabela for herbs to experiment with in her loaves of bread.

Camilo: He likes to cook and is good at it. At a young age, he was interested in cooking and often followed Julieta around or watched baking rise in the oven. People usually thought he was after food because of his appetite, but he enjoys the process of transforming ingredients into a delicious dish. Bruno joked about switching his sisters' babies without them knowing once and got a hot arepa thrown at his head.

Mirabel: She's not quite as clumsy as her father in the kitchen, but she tends to avoid cooking. If she can help the cook with anything, she'll jump right in and try her best, though! She does like to make pies. Her favourite part is making designs to decorate the top of the pie. The kitchen usually ends up very messy when she's in there, but she doesn't mind cleaning up after herself.

Antonio: He's especially interested in helping decorate cakes or pies and making fun cookie shapes. He isn't as interested in cooking as Camilo was at his age, though. Guaranteed to have some animal fur get into the food, pet fur is inevitable after all.

[bingsooow]

Pizza delivery person Venture x reader (Amab venture x GN reader)

This is more of a modern AU

For Sloane working at a pizza place was one of the easiest side jobs they’ve had yet. Besides working on archeology whenever they could, during the week they spent a majority of their time working at a pizza place. Granted it got the bills paid but it wasn’t as exciting as digging and finding rocks.

They worked specifically in pizza delivery. It wasn’t what they applied for, but it paid more than the kitchen staff and they received tips on top of the regular pay. One particular Tuesday it the temperature was quite high for this time of year. They sat inside the restaurant fanning themself with one of the plastic menus they kept inside. They hoped to have gotten a chance to deliver an order so they can sit in their car with AC and relax.

Eventually they received their first order on their shift. It was two large pizza’s, two sodas some breadsticks and the stores cookie dough. They waited around communicating with their coworkers as per usual when it came to orders they had to deliver. They didn’t want to receive the heat of the blame if something were to have been messed up. There have been very hard shifts for them. After the staff finished the food, Sloane packed everything up into the bright red pizza bag to keep everything warm and up to temperature. And they were out the door.

It was beautiful outside, the sky was a bright blue and the clouds almost looked dreamlike in the sky. They opened their car door sitting inside and turning on the AC almost immediately. They then began to drive to the address on the GPS. The trip wasn’t far, only around 10 minutes away from the restaurant. They knocked on the door and tried to present themselves as nice as possible.

Sloane had messy brown hair and this bright red cap that sat on top of it. The uniform they wore was a red button up with the logo on the left pocket. They were required to either wear black or khaki pants. They chose the khaki. They also wore a nonbinary pin on the hat just to remind people what they went by without them having to say it.

The order didn’t take long and they received a $20 tip. Making their way back to their car they received a call from the kitchen staff that they have another order. They picked it up and it was pretty simple. A personal pan pizza, a sprite and some breadsticks. They followed the GPS and ended up at an apartment complex.

Once they got there and knocked on the door they looked at the person who came. They were attractive beyond means. They began to blush and stammer over their words. “I uh, I have a pizza for you!” How embarrassing.

“Thank you, how much do I owe?” Y/n asked as they grabbed their wallet. Sloane grabbed their phone to look at the price. It was only $20. “20 dollars.” They said trying to avoid looking at the person inside the home too intently.

“Oh shoot I don’t think I can pay..” Y/n said looking down at the ground before at them. They gave a smirk before an idea formed in their mind. “How else could I pay you pizza delivery person?” Y/n asked coming a little closer to them. Sloane didn’t think this was real. Their mind short circuited and they had the bright idea to use their tips to pay for it.

“Nah don’t worry about it I can use my tips, I mean pause not like that, unless-“ Sloane had to stop themselves. But it seemed to have amused Y/n. Hearing them laugh sparked something within them. They wanted to be the one to make them laugh all the time. “That’s sweet of you.” Y/n would peck their cheek making their cheeks as red as a crayola marker.

On the way back to the pizza place Sloane didn’t care that they had to use their tips to pay for the pizza, they had a newfound obsession in which they hoped they would see Y/n again as a more dominant pizza delivery person.

(Sorry if this isn’t the greatest, I seen a post on Twitter about pizza delivery Venture and had to write something about it. I considered making it smut however I’m not sure if I should. Maybe I could make a part 2 that is.)

[writing-until-i-drop]

Wildflowers For A Hangman Ch. 2

Summary:

Daisy, a career novelist, moves in with her college best friend Phoenix who has been permanently assigned to Top Gun with Dagger Squad. She finds herself instantly connected with a cocky pilot who's soft only for her and Jake can't help but want to know everything about her. When the past comes knocking at both of their doors, will they stand together or fall apart?

Or: The Dagger Squad can't cook and Jake falls in love with a woman who makes a mean lasagna while they work their personal trauma.

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x writer!femOC | 18+ (eventually) minors dni. Fluff, smut (eventual), idiots in love, past trauma.

A/N: Daisy meets the rest of the Daggers and one cocky pilot finds himself experiencing a first.

AO3 Link

Previous Chapter

“I don’t want to go,” I whined, packing up the individual bags of cookies I had made for dagger squad, Penny, and Maverick who were all going to be at the Hard Deck. Natasha was determined to get me out to the bar in something other than pajamas, holding up a denim mini skirt I hadn’t worn since college and black tank top.

“You’re going, I’ll buy you as many shots of tequila as it requires to get you to stay.” Tequila. My weakness. I ran a hand through my hair, glaring at the tiny skirt.

“I don’t even know if my ass still fits in that.”

“Just put it on, we’re leaving in ten.” I grabbed the outfit, grumbling in protest. 

Much to my surprise, the skirt did fit. Barely. I sure as hell wasn’t going to be playing pool in it because if I bent over to take a shot, my whole ass would be out. I threw on a red lip and some black cowgirl boots, slipping a book and a notebook into my bag just in case I needed a reprieve.

“Is your fine ass ready to go?” Natasha shouted up the stairs, “We’re going to be late!”

“Oh no, I’d never want to be late for something I didn’t want to do in the first place.” Natasha rolled her eyes at me, pulling me out of the apartment as quickly as her legs would take us. “I am going to drain your bank account with the amount of tequila I’m about to drink, Tasha.”

“Do your worst, Daisy.”

The bar was loud and filled with too many people for my liking. True to her word, Natasha bought me two shots of tequila and a beer to kick off the night before we even got to the table where all her friends were hanging out.

“Daisy!” Rooster shouted in greeting and Bob gave me a small salute. What the hell did they put in the water around here? There were three more handsome guys with the group, all of which offered me a smile and a once over.

“Hey, guys. You must be Payback, Fanboy, and Coyote. Natasha’s told me about you all.” 

“All bad things?” The man I recognized from the pictures as Fanboy guessed, chewing on a toothpick.

“Always,” Natasha slugged him on the shoulder. “Where’s Bagman?”

“Right, here. Hey, darlin, thanks for the lasagna.” A heavy arm draped over my shoulder, pulling me in for a kiss on the forehead.

“Um, hi.” I looked up, swaying a little when I saw him. Phoenix hadn’t shown me any pictures of Hangman, claiming they weren’t close enough to have any pictures together. He was tall, blonde, with a jaw sharp enough to cut glass with, staring down at me with pretty green eyes. “Glad you liked it.” My voice was far too soft and breathy to be considered normal. Hangman winked and my whole face flushed red. “Tasha.” 

“That’s enough, Bagman.” Natasha tugged me from his side, “First Rooster and now you, I told your animals to behave around her.” Hangman and Rooster shared looks of mock offense, grinning.

“I’m behaving,” Bob piped up, a mouthful of peanuts.

“Yes, thank you, Bob, you’re behaving.” Natashja sat me between her and Bob at the table, keeping an arm around my waist.

“I’m behaving too, Phoenix,” Coyote grinned, leaning across the table. “See? Listen, Daisy, are you liking it in Cali so far?”

“It’s a little hot but the change in scenery is nice, have some cookies.” I dug into my bag, “Chocolate chip or M&M?” 

“You made cookies?” Fanboy nearly spilled his beer. “I can be good too! You’re a writer, right, Daisy?” 

“M&M, please.” Coyote immediately dug in.

“I am, do you want M&M too?” The whole group started asking me questions, being rewarded with their own bag of cookies. Natasha teased that I was treat-training them like a pack of wild dogs. 

Eventually, my newness wore off and the group separated. Hangman and Coyote went for darts and the rest went for the pool table. After a few more shots and a dance around the floor with Rooster, Bob, and Coyote, I finally escaped from Phoenix long enough to grab my notebook. There was a new character in my head, speaking softly about what she saw and what she wanted. 

The words flowed freely, blue ink cursive neatly filling page after page. My publisher was going to be giddy at the prospect of another series, I could already hear her excited laughter ringing in my ears, followed by the click of her gold cigarette lighter. I smoke menthols, the unnamed character whispered to me, and I drink my coffee black. A tough woman, an agency legacy. FBI? CIA? NCIS. I chuckled softly, glancing up at all the uniforms drinking around me. I should have seen that one coming. 

“You’re cute when you’re focused,” Hangman’s southern drawl broke my concentration, the still nameless woman slipping away back into my imagination. Damn it. “You bite your bottom lip.” 

“You must have lost at darts if you were paying that much attention to me, pretty boy.” Hangman’s smirk morphed into a grin, making him even prettier than before, which was a problem. My stomach fluttered in a way that was concerning to feminism.

“If that’s supposed to be an insult, I don’t understand how. I’m the prettiest boy in this goddamn state.” And he was, I laughed, forcing myself to look away from him and back at my notebook. “What are you writing?”

“A new-” Hangman slid into the booth next to me, his warm, masculine scent filling the space around us. “Um,” What was I saying again? He was watching me squirm, sipping on his beer as my blush deepened. “I got a new idea and I had to write it down before I lost it.” Hangman’s eyes flickered to the notebook and I quickly flipped it shut.

“Even your handwriting is pretty, darlin. Almost as pretty as your cooking,” The line itself didn’t make sense but his delivery made it work.

“You like my cooking?” 

“I like everything about you, Daisy,” He slid even closer. Hangman was just as confident and flirty as Natasha had warned me and despite how pretty he was and how into me he seemed, I didn’t buy his interest for a second. I burst out laughing, covering my mouth with my hand.

“You’re really laying it on thick, aren’t you?” Hangman’s brow scrunched in confusion, “The whole hot aviator hitting on me every thirty seconds is just too much.” Hangman sat back, watching me laugh until I couldn’t breath, his eyebrows raised. 

“Are you done, darlin?” I held up a finger, trying to catch my breath. “You know, I think this is the first time a woman’s ever cracked up at my flirting.” 

“Happy to be your first, Hangman.” I pushed his shoulder, filing the fact that his muscles felt extremely soft to the touch in a filing cabinet deep within my brain never to be opened. 

“Well, if hot shot Hangman isn’t your speed, then hi.” He held out his hand, his eyes going soft, “I’m Jake Seresin, thank you for sending me dinner last night. It was the best meal I’ve eaten since Christmas.” Oh. Oh. 

“Nice to meet you, Jake. I’m Daisy Prentiss and I’ll cook whenever you’d like.” 

“Now who’s flirting?” 

“It’s not flirting,” Okay, it was a little bit of flirting, I couldn’t help myself. “I’ll feed the rest of the daggers too.” Jake smiled and this time it wasn’t cocky or flirting, it was soft and genuine.

“I look forward to it, sweetheart.”

X

I watched closely as Hangman sat with Daisy, convincing her to drink water between shots of tequila, which were actually water because he was filling the shot glass with it every time she looked away. I’d never admit it but they looked like a happy couple, having a night out on the town. 

“I’ve never seen him look at a woman like that,” Coyote sidled up to me at the bar, offering me a beer. “Hangman is nowhere in sight.” 

“I’ll beat the shit out of him if he hurts her, Javy.” His pinky brushed mine and I had to fight a smile.

“I’ll hold him down for you.”

Next Chapter

[disasterpurplebois]

“I think the smartest thing to do in this situation is to just eliminate the offender,” Essek said as he lifted his mug to take a sip. The steam fogged up his glasses for a moment before clearing up and giving Essek a view of the woman across from him.

Yasha shook her head, her braids and beads clanking softly. “But what if I just chop the heads off? Then I can put them on display.” She pushed the tray of cookies towards Essek. “Try these, I just got the new recipe from Martina.”

Essek reached a hand out and plucked a still-warm cookie from the top of the pile. “Alas, no, cutting off the heads won’t kill them, their roots go deep. I’m sorry, Yasha, but you’ll have to rip them up if you want to protect your tomatoes.”

Yasha sighed. “I suppose I can dig them up and plant them somewhere else in the garden, away from the vegetables.” She glanced across the kitchen table and out into the back garden at the offending plants.

Essek noted that the garden was flourishing, much better than his own. He tried to employ the tips Yasha gave him but he found that growing vegetables required much more work than the simple picturesque flowers he planted at Caleb’s cottage.

“Do you want to take some more green bean plants when you—” Yasha started to say. Her voice was cut off by the sound of the front door slamming open and heavy footfalls entering the house. Essek heard Beauregard grunt a question to which Yasha answered, “in the kitchen, babe.”

Beauregard rounded the corner, clad in her blue and gray Expositor robes. She was clutching a stack of notebooks and looked a little wild-eyed when she entered the kitchen. She dropped a quick kiss to the crown of Yasha’s head before turning to Essek.

“Yo, Hot Boi, you gotta get home. Caleb got a message from that druid lady in Tal’dorei and it sounds like he needs you for something. I have to review these notes from what we found the Archive today. We’re on to something, there’s definitely a connection to Molaesmyr.” The Expositor kicked out another chair at the kitchen table and plopped down, already flipping open one of the notebooks and tapping her chin. Yasha got up and set another cup of tea down at Beau’s elbow before walking Essek out to the front door. She pressed a basket of green beans into Essek’s arms and waved at him from the doorway.

“I put Martina’s cookie recipe in the bottom, if you want to try it for yourself.”

Essek waved back to her and hurried away down the street, his mind already swirling with the possibilities of what Keyleth of the Air Ashari might want with him. Something to do with another Beacon? More about that echo backpack being used by the Exultant Thule? Did she have a location on Ludinus? Oh, how his mind raced with the unending potential.

He rushed down the busy streets, reminding himself several times that Caleb would have messaged if it were life-threatening. But, then, Essek was still a little shaken up by the recent events with Trent Ikithon, and he hadn’t even been present for the encounter. Maybe Caleb was downplaying it? Although Beau hasn’t seemed that worried about it, just anxious to find more information about how to take down Ludinus. It probably wasn’t worth wasting a teleport spell to get home faster.

In eight minutes flat, Essek was rushing up the little path in front of the cottage he and Caleb called home. He was breathing hard, having pushed himself to go faster than his usual. When he pushed open the front door he found Caleb pacing in front of the couch.

Caleb’s crystal blue eyes jumped up to meet his upon his entrance and Essek quickly closed the door before closing the distance between them. Caleb’s large, warm hands grasped his own and he intoned, “Schatz, I need you to speak with Astrid.”

[jester-lover]

She's in Parties

Twisted wonderland characters with a goth girlfriend feat. Trey, Jade, Floyd, Jamil, Rook, Silver, and Lilia cw- fem! reader, confident! reader, fluff, goth author freaks out about goth music, very long post

I notice how often the fanfic community focuses in on the clothing/makeup relating to the goth subculture, and while there will be a lot of that in this post, I want more people to experience the music. I left a goth song recommendation I think fits each character, from gothic metal to softer new wave. No gatekeeping here.

Trey

Trey is definitely not knowledgeable about the goth scene, he listened to a few songs here and there, and probably had a minor emo phase in middle school

He does however enjoy the slower more melancholic goth songs you play for him, or more sweet/romantic songs

Trey is usually the one keeping law and order in his dorm, so sometimes he likes having calming activities like baking and picnics to get away from it all

Having a goth girlfriend, someone who can really understand his perceivable struggle of mundanity, and bring a spark of excitement to his life is a gift he will always appreciate

He would love body mods, like tattoos, piercings etc

Tattoos especially if they have meanings behind them, he thinks they’re like stories on your skin

This man has no clothing comprehension (fedora), he straight up doesn't care what you're wearing 

He does however, really like when you wear funky jewelry, and leather jackets

Something is just so sweet about your caring attitude towards him, contrasting with your look that tends to terrify people

We would make you bat shaped cookies 100%

A song that you and Trey listen to together would be Ecstasy by Strawberry Switchblade

“Maybe if you pair the red leather pants with the fishnet top, it’ll match your makeup.”

Jade 

You might look like the dark, mysterious part of your relationship, but we all know that title goes to Jade

This boy is, unnerving to say the least, but you’ve always been a fan of strange things

He absolutely adores your aesthetic, even if you tone it down for school, or wear trad goth makeup every day, he’s obsessed

I feel like jade would enjoy gothic films, like The Crow, or Nosferatu, along with a long list of horror movies

“The movie itself is a bit overwhelming, but the plot is so delightfully dark, I think you would really like it dear.”

He probably does listen to goth music, more post punk and new wave type stuff, like The Cure, so a part of your music is not new to him

But he’d love to be introduced to more vibrant gothic music (it makes for a good hiking playlist)

He loves all types of gothic makeup on you, but especially enjoys 90s’ goth makeup, with tight black eyeliner, and burgundy red lipstick

Something about the simplicity of the style, along with the somber tone of the music you listen to makes Jade’s heart flutter (if he has one)

A song that would remind you of Jade is Heaven or Las Vegas by the Cocteau Twins

Floyd

He’s a lil creepy guy himself! You guys are two peas in a pod! 

Floyd loves having a goth girlfriend, the fashion, makeup, music and general aesthetic are right up his alley

We know our boy loves shoes, so he would absolutely adore it if you had a funky shoe collection, from tall and heavy platforms, to cute yet sharp winklepickers 

He would love loud gothic rock, extreme music hypes him up before a big game

I read in floyd’s wiki that he dislikes restraint, so the loudness and brashness of gothic rock would be something he really enjoys

In terms of fashion, Floyd is one of the few boys who would definitely allow you to give him a makeover 

Tease and gel his hair, layers of silk over fishnet and leather, you can really go all out

Be careful though, because he’s also the type to come running for hugs and kisses right when you've finished getting ready

Floyd thinks that the best looks on you are the ones that require layering, he loves seeing you look like a shapeless bat creature

His most favorite part about having you as a girlfriend is how easy it is to find you in the stands during a basketball game

Floyd definitely gives you some freaky fish nickname, like ‘anglerfish’ just because he’s a meanie like that

"Anglerfish! I found a sweater you'll love, Its got bats all over it!"

A song that Floyd would like is Head like a Hole by Nine Inch Nails

Jamil 

Jamil caught your eye due partially to his dancing skills, and his hair

I mean look at it, the boy is a walking shampoo commercial 

He really is clueless about goth music, you really have to keep him on the shallow side before throwing him off the deep end

“So, you like music about coffins and funerals then?”

He really does enjoy your aesthetic quite a bit, every time you come home from a day of shopping (at a thrift store most likely) he encourages you to give him a little fashion show

Kalim might have been mildly terrified the first time he saw you, but then he realized how happy you made Jamil, and accepted you!

Pre-overblot, he enjoys more angry, loud gothic rock, but after, he asks you to introduce him to some softer goth music

Jamil has always dreamed of giving his significant other a life full of joy, so sometimes he likes fantasizing about a future with you, and dancing to romantic goth songs

A song you and Jamil dance to is Heaven by The Cure 

Rook 

Ooolala a mysterious figure shrouded in darkness? He is intrigued

You definitely notice him, and you definitely ask him out first

(he swoons)

Rook is a perplexing character, he never really shows any interest towards your music, before suddenly turning up with a full playlist

Turns out, he’s been keeping track of the songs you mention in passing conversation and blast in your room

He loves you in long flowy black skirts, with full trad makeup, he thinks you look so beautiful

“Mon petit ange, you look absolutely breathtaking, villainous beauty like yours is dangerous!”

Rook is most definitely the of boy who goes out in the middle of the night with you for an impromptu photoshoot, or walk through a graveyard

You two have a very ‘Morticia and Gomez’ type relationship, considering just how obsessed this man is with you

He writes poems about you

Rook probably also adores romantic goth songs, especially the weirder ones

A song you two would listen to together is Temple of Love by the Sisters of Mercy

Lilia 

Scene bf x goth gf

Look at him and tell me he doesn’t avidly listen to My Chem? You can’t.

You two are two birds of a feather! (a crow’s most likely)

He absolutely adores your sense of fashion, and how it aligns with his own, just be aware that if you have any cool hoodies/jackets, he will steal them from you

Speaking of clothes, he loves any of them on you, especially bat-like clothes, like black shirts/dresses with long flowy sleeves and flared pants

“Hehehe we match in both clothing and personality!”

He also listens to goth music, and considering he’s ancient, he’s probably experienced some classic bands in concert 

Would love to share his most macabre stories with you, if you want to hear him ramble

Lilia is a fan of all genres of gothic music, especially the funky kinds of music often blasted in goth clubs

You two are very like minded individuals and that keeps you both very happy

A song you and Lilia would dance to is What’s Inside a Girl? By The Cramps

Silver 

He’s so soft for you

You just cause fear wherever you go, and Silver’s just there, softly smiling

He doesn't listen to loud music unless he’s trying his best to stay awake, but when he is trying to sleep, he prefers the more mellow stuff

“Do you have any really calming music I can listen to?”

He cares so very little about what you wear, but he likes you in velvet so you're soft to cuddle with

Silver cares a lot about you, so if he sees people making bad remarks about you, he’ll confront them, he’s scary when he’s mad

He enjoys watching gothic movies with you too, but might fall asleep mid movie

Since the Diasomnia uniform is all black, he gets a little kick out of matching with you

A song Silver and you listen to as you lounge about is Lorelai by the Cocteau Twins

Bonus! More alternative songs that remind me of the boys :)

Trey-  Linger by The Cranberries

Jade-  Nocturnal Me by Echo and the Bunnymen

Floyd-  Nasty by The Damned

Jamil- Kiss me, Son of God by They might be Giants

Rook- Gentlemen take Polaroids by Japan

Lilia-  Time by David Bowie

Silver- Sacrifice by London after Midnight