#i can have a small bit or eat a small candy bar thing like a reeses but oooof cannot just eat a regular piece of it

[quaranmine]

Dark chocolate is your favorite? Oh bless your heart.

you did NOT just hit me with the bless your heart, anon. i know what that means.

[mrchiipchrome]

The Museum

W.C. - 5.2 k

this is so the 'pookie looks absolutely fire' tiktok couple coded

thank you to the anon that requested this, much love to you:)

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The skittles made a crunching sound as your molars bit down on them, it was an every day snack for you, tasting the rainbow more often than not. It was a relatively new habit, but when your ex had broken up with you, you promised yourself to become a better person.

It obviously had to be you who had something wrong with them, otherwise she wouldn’t have fallen in love with someone else and out of love with you. Quitting smoking was the first thing on your agenda, hence the skittles.

The next thing was to get away from the small southern town in Texas, move so far away that you left the country entirely. The only thing you’d taken with you on the plane was a carryon with 2 changes of clothes, your cowboy hat and a dream of bettering your life.

The third thing you bettered was your health, going out for a run every morning through the streets of London, going to the gym after work, doing push-ups before bed. It worked wonders, the tips you got from the ladies at the bar where you worked were simply incredible.

The fourth thing you wanted to improve was your cultural knowledge, the exact reason why you were standing in the middle of a museum, old renaissance paintings in every corner of the large room. It was something you appreciated, none of that modern bullshit where people just taped a banana to a canvas and called it art, it was back from when people actually painted.

Your hand slipped down your body into your jacket pocket, fetching another piece of candy, although a voice speaking up from your right startled you nearly enough for you to drop it back into the bag.

“You’re not supposed to eat in museums, you know?” The woman had a foreign dialect, just like you. You guessed it was from somewhere in the middle of Europe, maybe Germany or any of the neighboring countries.

“It’s not a problem if you don’t tell on me, no one has to know.” She seems just as startled by your accent as you were by her speaking to you, her cheeks dusted with a light pink at the wink you sent her.

“What are you going to do if I tell them? Take me back to your ranch on your horse?” The mystery woman teases, obviously making fun of the accent and the cowboy hat sitting perched on your head. In response you laugh under your breath, shaking your head in amusement.

“I’m afraid that I left the ranch back in Texas, Miss. All I have here is a small one bedroom apartment.” She looks up at you through the side of her eye, her half smile distracting you more than you’d like to admit. Her brows knit together when she notices a security guard eying the two of you curiously and her elbow digs into your ribs when you once again reach for the skittles in your pocket.

“Nice hat, my friend would be jealous.” You nod in agreement, plucking the stetson off your head and turning it around in your hand. In a brief moment of stupidity, you place the cowboy hat on the pretty stranger’s head, it falling down the front of her face to cover her eyes. It’s frankly adorable, the way she brings her hand up to push it back to the crown of her head.

The reassuring smile on her face tells you that she approves of your action, a relief to your entire being. She takes her phone out of her back pocket, turning it on and snapping a picture of you both, the cowboy hat still perched on top of her head.

In response, you snap a picture of her alone, the woman posing like a cowboy would for you. She was going to be the wallpaper of your phone for a while, even though you didn’t even know her name.

“So, do you have a name or am I just going to have to call you mine?” The cheesy pickup line just slips out, not at all consciously, it was like instinct took over, a pretty girl was to be flirted with.

“I wouldn’t mind being called yours, but for now you can call me Lia.” The woman doesn’t seem uncomfortable by your advances, in fact she embraces them, teasing smile telling you that she found it amusing how worried you got over a simple pickup line.

“Lia, a beautiful name for an even more gorgeous girl.” She gains her pink tint back, the compliment likely the cause of her blush. It wasn’t like she never got complimented, it was just the attractive zing your accent put over the words that made them feel more sincere.

“And how about you? A name attached to that pretty face?” Now it was your turn to blush at the other woman’s words, her lips splitting into a full toothed smile.

“Y/n. Y/n Y/l/n.” You imitate Bond to introduce yourself, sticking your hand out for her to take, a firm handshake and the tip of an imaginary hat letting her know who exactly it is you are. 

“Good to know my future last name.” She winks at you and the blush that’s already covering your face deepens significantly. The insinuation that you were to marry the girl beside you too much for your poor little heart to take. 

She starts to walk away from you and towards another section of the room, looking back over her shoulder when she realizes that you weren’t right beside her, walking. Waving her hand in a “come here” motion, you quickly catch up with the older woman. 

“So, why skittles? Is there not any other sweet you’d rather have?” She asks as you match her slow rhythm of steps, your hands shoved in the pockets of your coat with your arms forming loops. Lia threads one of her arms through yours, leaning her head on your shoulder, standing still all of a sudden to look at a painting. It didn’t feel like you’d just met, like you’d just introduced yourselves to one another, it felt like you’d known each other for decades, easily slipping into being comfortable with each other.

You gaze at her as she looks at the painting, making sure to map out all her gorgeous features and commit them to memory. She was like a breath of fresh air in a world of polluted oxygen.

“First of all it’s called candy, not sweets, candy. Secondly, they’re amazing for when you want to stop smoking.” Her cheek smushes against your shoulder as she turns her head to look up at you, her eyebrows scrunched together adorably.

“You were a smoker?” You feel the strong urge to place a peck atop her lips, soft and warm against your own. But in the end you resist, you’d only just met the woman for god’s sake, you don’t want to make her uncomfortable. Her eyes hold so many emotions that you just can’t read.

“Yeah, only for about a year. My ex stressed me out so much that I felt it was the easiest way to deal with it. But when she broke up with me, I decided to get my life back together, moved here, got a job at a bar and that’s it. That’s why I’m here.” Lia listens intensively at the story you’re telling her, the way she looks at you suggests that she’s hanging off your every last syllable.

“So no more smoking at all for you?” You puff your chest up, proudly displaying the grin on your face and your now discolored tongue. Lia looks on in amusement at your actions, a grin that could light up an opera house on her face. 

“Nope, I’m never picking up a cigarette again.” The amusement turns into a sort of profound proud feeling, a feeling that she definitely shouldn’t be feeling for what is practically a stranger. A stranger that in the matter of a mere hour had worked their way into her heart and made themselves home.

“Good, I’m really happy for you.” The softened look on Lia’s face makes you blush, it was the way most people looked at their loved ones. You couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to be one of her loved ones, how it would feel to see her first thing in the morning, to gaze into her tentative eyes and try to read her like a book just because you know exactly how it is she acts, how she feels at that exact moment, what she thinks.

At your faraway look Lia nudges you in the ribs, giggling at the embarrassed expression that occupies your face. Her giggle could only be described as a ray of sunlight, lighting the glum room up in seconds, giving it a golden glow.

The older woman doesn’t miss the fondness in your gaze as you watch her laugh, your own lips splitting into a smile and soon after a loud belly laugh bubbles up in your chest, welling out of your mouth like water out a dam. 

Only moments later the both of you are doubled over in laughter, tears slipping down your cheeks and arms crossed over your stomachs. Some scattered guests give you two dirty looks, as if you were peasants in a house full of royals, but they are counter effective because it only makes you and Lia laugh harder.

The security guard from earlier approaches you both as you drop down to the floor with a loud thump, Lia bursting out into an entire new fit of laughter as you try to catch your breath.

“Y/n, I’ve already let you get away with a lot today but this is your last strike. Up you get, I’ll escort you and your lady companion to the exit.” He speaks through his thick mustache, his round beer gut bobbing up and down with every word like he needed every fat covered muscle of his stomach to get the words out.

Small giggles escape you both as Lia and you are led out of the building by a firm grip around both of your arms. You both watch in amusement as the fat man gets winded walking back up the stairs he just led you down, bending over for a brief second at the top before disappearing back behind the door.

“So, I take it you know the security guard then?” She sounds a little out of breath as she speaks to you, flyaways sticking out of her bun, your hand itches to reach up and smooth them out, undo her bun and run your fingers through her hair. But you don’t. 

“Yeah, he’s my regular. Comes in every day and buys a pint after work, a good friend of mine he is. He lets me get away with eatin’ in there every time I come.” You stand right in front of the brunette, hands again in your pockets as you smile at her tentatively. Her hand comes up to rub at your arm, and you feel as though you were going to pass out at any moment, the electric feeling of her ring covered fingers touching your arm overwhelming in a good way.

“Ah, a museum nepo baby then.” You can tell that she’s joking by the way her eyebrows raise all the way up to her hairline, and you imitate her by doing the same thing. Another fit of giggles ensues, Lia looking directly into your eyes, holding eye contact for a prolonged amount of time.

It makes you nervous, her somewhat challenging gaze locking on your face for a moment longer than necessary. When she grasps your hands in hers you finally look back at her, meeting her tender gaze with your own.

“I really enjoyed today, I was hoping we could do it again sometime.” The older woman looks at you sheepishly, nearly nervously. You’re mesmerized by her gorgeous simplicity, simple smile grazing her lips as you nod, a recognisable warmth behind the hug she gives you, the quick kiss she places on your cheek haphazardly before walking away, not looking back to see your rose tinted cheeks.

It’s only when Lia has disappeared far behind the horizon that you realize that you have no way to contact her AND that she essentially got away with your favorite cowboy hat. You aren’t as distraught about your hat as you are about not getting her number, it was a dumbass move from you.

You drag your feet all the way back to your apartment, not knowing that only moments after you left the museum, the girl of your dreams ran back all the way to get your number. And like you, she dragged her feet all the way back to her apartment, sulking and questioning her own intelligence.

Arriving at the bar that evening was strange, you felt almost empty without the girl you’d met earlier that day, no light brown cowboy hat perched atop your head nor a beaming smile. It was weird to everyone around you, you always had that damned hat on, but now it was a completely different one, black with a few white accents.

“What happened to you? It looks like someone ran over your dog.” Your co-worker and best friend Marla asks, placing her hand on your shoulder softly as if you were to break if she did it any harder. Shaking your head, your other friend and co-bartender Jason comes up to rub your back softly, the comfort from both of your best friends loosening you up significantly and soon after you spill everything that had happened up to that point.

They were both smirking at you when you finished up the story, knowing that despite only just meeting the woman in the museum you were already in love. 

“So do you have a picture of this goddess who’s making you drop to your knees?” Marla asks you, looking knowingly at your other best friend, who in return wiggles his eyebrows at her. You knew something would happen between them soon, and you’d rather be in hell than to watch it.

“Yeah, just give me a quick sec.” Pulling out your phone, you quickly unlock it and enter the photo app, not needing to scroll as the most recent photo was of her, Lia.

“Girl, are you fucking with me?” You look at the dark skinned girl in confusion, her eyes widening as she realizes that you had no fucking clue who it was you had met. She looks to her ‘boyfriend’ quickly in shock, who looks back at her equally appalled.

“Are you telling me you don’t recognise her?” The moment you shake your head is when the green eyed boy facepalms, not believing your stupidity. “Not at all? You haven’t seen her before.” When you once again shake your head the man sighs in disappointment, all faith in your intelligence practically gone.

“Girl. That is Lia Wälti, you know one of the best midfielders in the country? Arsenal Women’s player.” Now it’s your turn to look shocked, not at all knowing that she was a footballer. All the times you’d gone over to Marla’s house to watch footy, she’d probably been injured.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I didn’t even recognise her.” You lean against the door, sliding your body down until you’re sitting flush on the floor, head in your hands. Jason places his hand on your shoulder, smiling softly at you as he tries to reassure your overwhelmed mind.

“Hey, man, it was probably a good thing that you didn’t recognise her. She knows that you’re not some crazed fan trying to kill her, eh?” Marla’s hand plucks your cowboy hat from your head and runs her fingers through your hair, your shared shift started in mere minutes and yet they were there, comforting you.

“I’m okay, just a bit shell shocked.” They both laugh, pulling you up by your hands and bringing you into a group hug, patting your back before Marla gives you your hat back, smacking both you and Jason’s asses before disappearing out to her office.

“You know, we have an extra ticket to the Arsenal game on Sunday, so I mean if you want to see her again then you’re welcome to join.” You smile at the man’s kindness, telling him that you’ll definitely take him up on his offer. You didn’t have a shift at the bar either way that day so spending it looking for your … well you didn’t really know what it was she is to you. All you know is that you wanted to see her again.

Two days later you find yourself sitting as close to the pitch as you possibly can, waiting for the North London derby to start. 

Lia is in the starting lineup, looking determined as she waits for the whistle signaling the start of the game to sound. The shrill noise cuts through the air and the game starts.

It’s physical right from the start, loads of pushing and shoving coming from both sides, red and white. There are a few times where you nearly jump to your feet as Lia gets pushed but the fact that your friends sat there right beside you made you choose not to.

At half time the score is the same as the beginning, nil-nil. Despite not knowing much about football you join in on analyzing the first half of the game, mentioning all the times Lia went down. Marla makes some ‘innocent’ comments about how you’d much rather have her ‘go down’ somewhere else. The blush that overtakes your face is enough for you to blend in with your jersey, the red of the Arsenal shirt the same shade as your face.

When the second half starts, you’re basically on your feet all the way through, cheering loudly when Alessia scores, meaning that the gunners were up one-nil.

It’s particularly hilarious when Lia finally notices you, a pause in the game meaning that she had the time to look around at the fully packed Emirates Stadium. When those eyes you love to gaze into meet yours for the first time since Friday, her face split open in a smile, a smile reaching all the way up to her eyes.

It looks like she has to physically restrain herself so that she doesn’t run over to you, her body shaking slightly as she calmly inches her way towards you, the cheers of the fans around you becoming louder as the player comes closer. Lia tunes them all out though as she looks at you, the only thing cutting through her trance being the whistle signaling the freekick being awarded. 

Lia looks back towards you as she walks in the direction of the group of players and you wink at her, even though she’s far away it seems like she saw it, the deep tint of red dusting her face definitely more than exertion from the game. 

When the three loud whistles sound throughout the arena, it explodes in cheers as Arsenal manage to keep their one-nil lead and in doing so make London red again. But you don’t even acknowledge the win when there’s a speeding Lia Wälti heading straight in your direction.

She only starts to slow down as she reaches the barrier which separates the fans from the pitch and players, with you standing up behind it to watch her come closer and closer with every quick step she takes.

Lia throws her arms around your torso when she comes close enough, the way that she had been longing for your touch had been driving her crazy in the days since you first met. She also knew that it wasn’t smart to do it all out in the open, fans and professionals alike were probably going to know everything about you within a few days. You didn’t seem to mind though, content with having her in your arms again.

Pulling away from her, you quickly take her face in your hands, looking her over to see if her face was scratched up from all the times she’d met the ground in the game. 

“Shit, darling, I think you spent more time on the ground in this game than on your feet. You ought to be more careful.” Your southern drawl is especially thick when you speak to her, the worry you’d experienced the entire game bubbling to the surface.

“I’m perfectly fine, I think you’re forgetting that I do this for a living.” She smiles at you reassuringly and you calm down fully, her hand placed on your arm a sure factor of it. Lia’s head turns to your side, looking directly at your friends who both send her starstruck looks. 

“Hi, I’m Lia.” The footballer smiles in their direction and they both remain in their seats, completely unmoving. She looks back to you concerned and in response you just laugh, they were apparently not expecting her to actually greet them. “Are they okay?” 

“I think they’re just a bit starstruck.” Gesturing towards their gaping mouths, Marla quickly slaps your hand away from her face, biting at the air to show you that she wasn’t afraid to bite.

“Oh okay, well do you think they want anything signed? I can ask the team, or maybe if you want we can go meet them?” Lia sounds unsure of herself, apparently doubting that her first impression on your friends was good.

“I think that they’d love that sweetheart. But judging from all the looks we’re getting from that same team, I do think they want you back.” You glance towards the women gathered in a clung in the middle of the pitch, all of them staring at you and Lia interacting. She sighs at their slightly invasive culture, but alas there wasn’t anything that she could do about it. When you smile and wave at them, you’re thoroughly amused when every single one of them repeats your actions back to you, some in confusion and some in amusement.

“A guard is going to tell you to follow him, just do as he says and we’ll meet again soon.” By that point the stadium was almost empty, everyone wanting to go home and brag about their team’s win over the archrival. So as Lia walks away from you, you’re totally free to stare at her ass, only stopping when Marla slaps your arm harshly.

“Did that just happen?” Jason asks shakily, running his hand down his face in embarrassment.

“You’re damn right it did.” You laugh at their stupid expressions, their embarrassment clear on their faces. “Well look on the bright side, y’all are going to meet the team.” With that their embarrassment turned into excitement, meeting their favourite athletes quickly turning their mood around.

“Y/n Y/l/n? Come with me and take your friends with you.” Walking around the labyrinth of slinging hallways and narrow paths, you appear in front of the locker room in no time, the loud music escaping the door a clear indicator of the Gunners good match.

“Now just wait out here until they come out, they’ll probably be out in a few.” The guard tells you unbothered, not caring at all that he’s leaving people he doesn’t know outside of the locker room.

“Yes sir.” You speak up clearly, mock saluting him as he disappears down the hallway with a sigh.

“I can’t believe that you’re 28, you act like a 12 year old.” Marla tells you jokingly, leading to you pushing her away from you. In the span of a few seconds both you and Marla find yourselves on the floor, engaging in a wrestling match. It only gets broken up when the sound of the door opening echoes through the hallway, both you and your best friend quickly getting on your feet.

“Nah what’s going on here?” A very amused Irish accented voice escapes the player exiting the locker room, one Katie McCabe staring at you and Marla.

“It was her fault.” You point at Marla so as to gesture that it was her who started it, the woman vehemently denying it.

“So I’m guessing you’re Lia’s cowboy then?” Katie completely ignores the blame game currently going on in front of her as she talks to you. Blushing at being called Lia’s, you quickly start to stutter out an answer.

“I- uhm yeah, I think so?” Laughter coming from behind the Irish woman makes you glance in the direction of the sound. Seeing Leah Williamson of all people is not what you expect, a bit starstruck yourself.

“Of course it’s the cowboy you buffoon, who else would wear a cowboy hat in London? You have to tell me where you bought the one Lia brought home, I need a new one. Mylie-moo chewed mine to filth a couple days ago.” Leah throws her arm around your shoulder as if you’d known each other for years, the woman clearly having heard a thing or two about you.

“Oh well I’ll be sure to bring you one next time I go back to Texas, my buddy Carl, he’s 72 and he makes the most gorgeous hats you can imagine. Last time I visited him I made him an instagram page, I’ll send you the link if you want?” You speak enthusiastically with the England captain, her arm still resting around your shoulders casually. Both Marla and Jason are in a conversation with Katie and Lotte, who just got out of the locker room.

“Important question, so answer me truthfully now, do you like country music?” She looks at you skeptically, trying to deduce if you’re being truthful or not. The question itself makes you roll your eyes playfully, but alas it didn’t surprise you. It was widely known that Leah was quite the country fan.

“Ma’am I grew up in Texas, yeah I’m a country fan. I’d be disowned if I wasn’t.” Leah looks at you like you’re her hero, it was clear to you that she accepted you. The hinges of the door squeak as a few other players exit, namely Lia.

“Lia please let me steal her, she’s perfect.” Leah says jokingly, holding onto your arm softly like she was a little kid. Lia looks at her weirdly, but quickly catches on to the joke, walking over to the two of you.

“I know, that’s why I want to keep her.” Lia wraps her arms around your waist tightly, her newly washed hair curling up into adorable curls, head placed on your shoulder. 

“Sharing is caring.” Leah is on the verge of laughter as she talks, the statement a shocking one for sure. It was hilarious though so you also had to keep from laughing.

“I mean I wouldn’t mind-” Lia shoots you a mean glare at your half serious words, and even though it was like being glared at by an adorable kitten, Lia already had you wrapped around her finger. “Actually I’m taken so I don’t think that would work.” 

All it takes for you all to break character is a shouted ‘WHIPPED’ coming from one of the players watching the interaction like it was a soap opera, the three of you laughing like it was the last thing you’d do.

“Alright, anyone want a drink? Not to brag but I can make a mean cocktail.” The women all cheer as you ask them, everyone rushing out to get into their cars and get to the bar. Just as you’re about to follow them, someone takes hold of your collar, making it so that you can’t go. 

Lia looks back when you don’t follow her but you just wave her off, telling her to go on without you. Turning back, you’re met with all the ‘scariest’ Arsenal players, looking like they’re about to beat you up.

“Listen carefully now, because this will only be said once, if you hurt a hair on her head, do anything to hurt her emotionally, if you do anything wrong that makes her sad, we will not hesitate to take your knees.” It’s Katie that speaks, all the others just nodding intimidatingly, glaring at you. 

“I’m going to try my best to make her happy, I know that she deserves the world.” They let up the facade of intimidation at your words, patting your back and pushing you in the direction of the car park. The conversation as you all are walking out of the building is pleasant, when you arrive at the parking lot there are just a couple of cars left.

Both of your best friends had left you to carpool with one of the remaining players, Lia called dibs though the second she looked at you, so it was with her you went.

“They weren’t too scary with you right? I know how they can be.” Lia says over the soft music being played from the radio, some Tyler, the Creator song. You look at her face, she was in deep thought and absolutely adorable. 

“Nah, it’s like being threatened by a pair of teddy bears. Let’s just say that I’ve had worse shovel talks.” She giggles as you start to tell her about all the weird shovel talks you’d gotten back in Texas, everything from being threatened with Chinese water torture to being hung upside down from a tree for simply speaking to a girl that wasn’t her.

When the bar comes into sight you see that multiple people have parked their cars right in front of it, telling Lia to just park on the curb.

“Y’all are such dickheads.” You laugh, slapping both Marla and Jason’s heads hard, they left you stranded. 

“Well you’ve got a girlfriend now who can drive your broke ass.” Marla shoots back, rubbing her head in pain. You roll your eyes at her dramatic actions, the slap wasn’t that hard.

“One-nil to me then, at least I have someone.” The sibling like banter was normal between you two by now, she was your best friend after all.

“C’mon cowboy, let’s sit down for a little.” Lia’s hand rests on your stomach as you both sit down on the booth, the place to sit being suspiciously small, to the point in which Lia had to throw her legs over your lap to get enough space.

It was nice to sit and talk with the team, they were regular people just like anyone else and it made you glad to see them just relax after a match. The atmosphere was calm, so calm in fact that Lia managed to fall asleep on your shoulder, quiet snores escaping her mouth.

Only moments later you fall asleep too, after having fought sleep for as long as possible. Your head rests on top of Lia’s and the girls think it’s absolutely adorable, some of them taking pictures of you both to send to their group chat.

“I knew being friends with her would pay off.” Jason jokes, thinking naïvely that you were fully asleep, getting a few laughs from the girls in the room. They get startled though as you utter a quick;

“Hey!” In protest, everyone soon laughed at your dramatic reaction to his joke.

Who knew that going to the museum would result in you getting a date?

[webslingingslasher]

Care less

for the frat!peter girlies.

Peter blames his aunt. 

May went and raised him to look forward to the middle of february. She would make little boxes and handwritten notes tied up with a fun-sized candy bar. May told him it was a day to celebrate love in its entirety. For a friend, for a teacher, for just the sake of love existing everywhere you went. 

Except, not everyone likes valentine's day. Some even hate it. Some would loathe the day so much that Peter feels like an idiot for caring. Dinner reservations that were going to be ignored, flowers that would go wilted and chocolates that were never going to get eaten. 

Peter has a handful of nothing and the one time he really wanted to outperform himself, it was brushed off and it was his aunt’s fault for getting his hopes up about valentine’s day. He had been so thoughtful too, planning weeks ahead to book a dinner slot and a fun date. Not to mention the mini fortune he spent on roses, not that you were a giant fan of roses but every girl deserves a bouquet on valentine’s, even if they triple in price. Peter even bought a second bunch of your favorite kind, just to prove he cared. 

It meant nothing. His efforts meant nothing and maybe he shouldn’t have assumed, but he never thought that you’d hate the holiday. It was a day entirely built around feelings, around love- and you just rolled your eyes at him. 

“I fucking hate valentine’s day.” You said it like it was nothing, taking two bites of a banana and handing it over to Peter. He asked if you were excited, maybe even hinting at that you should be excited. Peter Parker was about to romance the hell out of you. But not anymore. 

“Explain that one for me?” A toss, the peel falls into the trash can. You shrug as if you’ve never thought about it before, but it’s something you’ve held in your chest for as long as you can remember. 

“It was a holiday created by girls who didn’t feel loved enough by their boyfriends, or something. I think the practice is stupid, you should treat me good and do nice things for me everyday, not just once a year. And everything is crowded! Everyone has the same lame idea about dinner and a movie and flowers and… it’s just not something I buy into.” 

Peter feels every bit of him curl up and die inside. Valentines is his third favorite holiday, he adores the pinks, reds, and purples. He loves seeing couples of every stage, the beginning stages or lifelong partners. They all love the same; with everything in them. 

“Well, actually, I do have a confession. Chocolate covered strawberries. They’re outrageously expensive, but I buy them every year. If you’re wondering, I was hoping we could boycott the baby holiday and eat some strawberries or something.” 

A small lift in his heart, it’s something. You’d be happy with one thing and he could deliver that, but first he has to try and sway you, right? Peter needs to preach what valentine’s is about, he needs you to understand how lovely it is. 

“I’m surprised you hate it so much. I figured you’d love it, since it’s pink and feelings, and stuff.” You wink at him, you think it’s a joke and Peter’s in the same boat as you. “I know, right? It always seemed so gimmicky to me, I think.” 

“That doesn’t mean it’s bad.” You pretend gag, Peter feels his heart sink into the hollow of his chest. “You’re right, it’s cringy and that makes it so much worse.” Peter doesn’t agree, not even in the slightest. Nothing about it is cringy, there’s nothing embarrassing about showing you love someone. 

“Right. It’s cringy and a gimmick and everyone who participates is stupid.” Maybe he’s a little cynical, it hits harder when you nod with exaggeration. “So glad you agree, petey!” He doesn’t. Peter couldn’t be further away from your opinion but he’s really not in the mood to be shut down or judged, so, he just changes the subject and tries to ignore everything crumbling apart in the back of his mind. 

“Isn’t this cute?” 

You squint your eyes when you read the card, a tiny smile shows. “It’s cute. Not worth…” You snatch the glorified cardstock and flip it, your eyes widen, you pretend to choke on the dollar amount. “Ten dollars, holy shit. For some glitter? Fuck that.” 

You want it out of your hold, scared that if even a speckle spread you’d be forced to buy it. “What happened to the good old days of making your own card? My mom used to eat that up.” 

Peter delicately sets the card down, he tries to see it how you do, but he can’t. Sure, it’s wildly marked up, but wouldn’t your partner be worth the price? Peter would buy the moon for you if he could, a ten dollar Hallmark card won’t be his holdup. 

But, maybe you’d like a handmade one more. He can do that. 

Peter’s trying to be mindful of your opinion while also planting the seed that valentine’s isn’t all that bad into your brain. It’s days away and all he can hear in the back of his mind is ‘I fucking hate valentine’s day.’ 

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! Peter- do you fucking see this?” 

A romantic gesture? A public display of love and admiration? Dozens of carefully inflated heart shaped balloons? A girl crying into the arms of her friend while her partner showers her with flowers. Is it the love? Is that what you’re pointing out? 

“Yeah, it’s-” 

“Disgusting.” 

“-cute.” Peter frowns, is that what you really thought of valentines? Nothing was swaying your mind, Peter thinks that you’re more solidified in your mindset than before. 

“I’m sorry, trouble, but I’m finding it hard believing you hate valentine’s day.” It’s like he just called you a slur, you pull your hand from his and stuff it into your jacket pocket. 

“I don’t hate it, I loathe it. What do you see watching that? Personally, I’m seeing gravel covered flowers and wasted space that turns into deflated balloons. Fuck that.” Peter shakes his head, you’re seeing it wrong. “It’s about the gesture.” 

“It’s about how you love someone so much, there aren't enough things in the world to buy to show it, and there are never the right set of words to say it quite right. I’ll buy all the flowers in the world for you, and I’ll use all the air in my lungs for these balloons but it’ll never match the love I have for you.” 

Peter clears his throat. “That's what I see, anyways. I think valentine’s day is an excuse to be a little cringy and basic because we all want that sometimes.” He might’ve finally broken through, but you crack a grin and bump your shoulder into his. 

“Ah, yes, because I’m so unfulfilled that a man has never gotten me a teddy bear for valentine’s day.” Would you want one? He could get you one. Or could that be a reason you might detest the holiday, not that he’d ever take your opinion for resentment or bitterness. 

“Have you ever had a valentine?” A small stumble, your hand is tied into his again. “Besides elementary, nah. And honestly, I should be happy so I don’t have to deal with all that stuff.” 

‘I should be happy so I don’t have to deal with all that stuff.’ But, now you do, don’t you? 

“Trouble, you do realize you’re my valentine this year, right? And I’m yours?” You feel your breath catch, no, you hadn’t realized. It’s always just been another day for you and you assume the same for Peter, it’s not like there was much to celebrate. 

“It’s also just a day that ends in Y.” Is that really the answer you have? It’s just another day to you, even if you finally have someone to claim? You might not care about the holiday, but Peter does and he’s going to get his valentine’s day, no matter what. 

And you’re going to enjoy a handmade card. 

And a teddy bear. 

Peter’s finger-combing his hair after a shower, he’s had the reservation for weeks, but he also wasn’t aware of your detestment towards red hearts and arrows. 

“Wanna grab some dinner wednesday?” If he didn’t say it by name he’s hoping you won’t scream bloody mary on him. “Sure.” A smile washes over Peter’s face, it drops in a second. “Wait, isn’t that valentine’s day? Ha, yeah, no thank you. You, me, and the entire city? Fuck that.” 

‘Fuck that, fuck that, fuck that.’ Weeks boiled into nothing. “But, if you wanna cuddle and watch a movie I’m down.” It’s something. He’d get to give you flowers and a card and a teddy bear and he can’t forget the strawberries. You told him you loved them. 

“Good with me, trouble.” 

Peter tried to sway your mind, he tried to make you enjoy the love and glitter and colors. But you hated it all. So all he has to do is ditch the flowers and the dinner and just… do nothing. 

Peter’s first real valentine and all he has to do is… nothing. 

Three rose bouquets tossed onto his closet floor, it was haphazardly done. Petals scattered around the cellophane, some even reached to his shoes. They were thrown in without care, they were hidden. 

But they were beautiful. A few front buds have taken a beating, but the others were fully blossomed and lively. You’ve never seen roses in such a vivid red, their petals almost like velvet under your fingertips, their smell unlike any other. 

The thorns have been expertly shredded, nothing but smooth, soft stems in their wake. It doesn’t matter if Peter didn’t mean to have you see them, they were too gorgeous to leave locked away in a dark room. They deserved the affection water and sunlight would give them. 

You clutched all three in your arms, the weight welcomed. You laid them out nicely across his bed, the third bouquet dropped a small card and you picked it right back up. 

‘Trouble- 

This day was made for you. 

Charlie’s at 8. 

Yours, 

Peter’

You bit back a smile. Charlie’s? It’s nice, too nice. And expensive. Peter got you reservations at Charlie’s? Holding the card to your chest you nearly squeal, you have no idea how he kept the secret from you. Or the roses. 

When you hear his bedroom door open you spin, waiting for him to be in the doorway so you can place a thousand kisses. Instead it’s Ethan and he looks surprised. “You’re here?” He points to the flowers, “Peter gave you those?” 

“I found them in his closet, he just tossed them in here! And he must’ve forgotten to tell me about Charlie’s.” Ethan doesn’t smile with you, he’s not sharing any joy. For a second you start to wonder if you were the person who was supposed to receive the gifts. 

“He didn’t forget.” You scrunch your face at him, “I think he did and I need to start getting ready now. Ethan, do you know how nice Charlie’s is? It’s fucking fancy.” You’re not prepared, you don’t have anything that screams Charlie’s worthy in Peter’s closet. 

“No, you’re not hearing me. There is no Charlie’s and there weren't supposed to be roses. I was supposed to get them before you got here, but, here we are. No roses and no Charlie’s.” You smack at his arms, pulling at his fingers to drop your flowers. 

“They’re mine!” Ethan’s on a mission to steal them, and he’s not being gentle. 

“No, you didn’t want them.” 

You watch him for a second, how could he say that, of course you want them. Thirty six reminders of Peter, how could you ever say no? You fight for what's yours, Ethan allows you to keep one bouquet. 

“I do want them!” 

Ethan’s not being nice to you tonight, he’s gruff with his response. “No. You didn’t.’ 

“You keep saying didn’t! I never said I didn’t want…” 

Except you did. Just like you said you didn’t want to get dinner with Peter. You feel terrible, you feel like crying. He’d had this planned for weeks and the whole time all you did was poke fun and degrade the holiday not knowing you were crushing him behind the scenes. 

You wanted the flowers, but you didn’t deserve them. You hand over the last bouquet silently. 

“I think it’s best if you pretend you didn’t see these.” You can’t imagine the ache Peter must have in his chest, he planned something out just for you to stomp all over it. It’s not about the value, it was the gesture. He can’t tell you how he feels, but taking you out to one of the nicest places in the city, where you know it has a month minimum reservation list makes you understand him just a little bit better. 

“This is so bad, Ethan. This is so,” you suck in air, “so bad.” 

“It’s not terrible,” a crinkle when he shifts weight. “But it’s not great.” You wince, if you could, you’d go back in time and shove your foot in your mouth, or tell yourself to shut the fuck up. 

“Well, I mean, what the fuck?! It’s fucking Peter! How was I supposed to know he was pro valentines day?”

“How was he supposed to know you were anti valentines day?” 

You sink to the bed and hold your head in your hands, “I just want Peter right now.” You want to hug him and kiss him and tell him how sorry you were. Ethan hesitates for a second, before stepping closer to lay the flowers across your lap. 

“You found them. They’re yours.” You protect them from being taken, but still have self-pity. “I don’t deserve them.” Ethan scoffs, “of course you do. Everyone deserves pretty flowers.” 

You pout at yourself in the mirror and fix any smudges. Brushing out any stray wrinkles your newest dress might’ve made on the way over. Ethan had very kindly instructed a pledge to pick you up an outfit so you could change before Peter got back. 

With minutes to spare, he’s back and taking a deep breath at your appearance. “Wow.” A surprised hum when you kiss him, you wipe red from his bottom lip while you apologize. “I’m so sorry, petey.” 

“For what?” A look around the room, red roses give him the reason. “Oh. Hey, it’s no big deal and I-” A frown when you silence him by holding a finger to his lips. 

“I’m sorry. I found those flowers and all I could think about was you and how much it meant to me that you got those for me, then I saw the card and I couldn’t believe you got us reservations and I just felt… special. I’ve never had a valentine, but I get it now. It’s just a day you get to dote on me extra hard.” 

Another surprise kiss, “and if you didn’t already cancel I think we can get to Charlie’s on time. But if you did, that’s okay. Because I think those are the most lovely flowers I have ever gotten, and I might have seen a little teddy bear in there but I didn’t wanna get too presumptuous.” 

This time, Peter kissed you. “There’s also a homemade card.” 

“You didn’t!” You fall in closer to his chest, his hands can have free reign tonight, you wore the dress just for him. 

“I did. I even wrote a little poem.” 

A chaste kiss, “just when I think you can’t get better.” 

“There’s also glow in the dark mini golf planned for after.” A peck, “so thoughtful and handsome.”

A whisper, he’s got blown pupils and hoping he’d get another kiss. “And your strawberries are in the fridge.” 

Your hearts about to explode, “fuck, I love-” you stop yourself, but you heard it and so did Peter. He brushes it off, “love?” Fuck it, you’ll both keep circling around it. 

“Yeah, I love love.” 

A hungry kiss, a squeeze to the back of your thighs. “Yeah, I love love, too.” 

[leclercstarrs]

jealous girl, maggie greene.

summary: in which you and your wife visit the sanctuary after the war, but some of the saviors take a liking to you!

warnings: fem!reader and not yet proof read!

notes: most of my fics are gn!neutral but this was part of the request! the request was anon so i hope this finds you bby and ty for the lovely request, maggie is one of my favs too!

Now that the war is over and Negan’s living in a cell, the remaining Saviors are left in Daryl’s care at the sanctuary. Your wife isn’t all that happy about this, but the two of you decide to go to the sanctuary with Rick and Daryl in order to help keep things in order.

Rick finishes his speech to the people in the building, then taking Daryl upstairs to discuss things. Meanwhile, you and Maggie walk around the rundown factory, watching the Saviors sort their cans of food.

“Well, hello there.” A voice catches your attention, making you turn around. Your greeted by a man with his hair half-tied up, wearing a grey sleeveless tank top. You shake your head and laugh at him, knowing he has no chance, your wife just a bit in front of you, talking to another Savior. “What’s funny, baby?” He grins, letting out a small laugh of his own. You let out a long sigh, “I’m taken.” You put your hand directly in front of his face, showing off the nice ring Maggie managed to get for you back at the prison. “Oh, I see.” He nods, pausing for a moment. He’s making it seem like he’s going to back off, but he proves you wrong when he opens his smug mouth again.

“Does that really have to stop us?” The man mumbles. “Us?” You raise an eyebrow. “I’ll stop you.” Maggie suddenly walks up to the two of you, “Hey, I’m her wife.” She seethes. The guy looks shocked, simply walking away as the girl stares him down. “Hot.” You joke, Maggie snaking an arm around your waist, letting the other guys that were staring you down know you’re hers.

This doesn’t seem to stop some of the men, however, as another one approaches you now that you’re once again separated from Maggie. This time, Rick and Daryl are surrounding you, the three of you discussing the future of the sanctuary. “Hey, ma.” The unknown man smirks, interrupting Rick. “Excuse me?” Rick glares at him. “Oh, you her husband?” The guy backs up a bit. “Nah, but she’s married and you’re a pervert, so back up.” Daryl defends you this time. “Oh, so you’re the husband?” He laughs.

You scoff, “I don’t have a husband, dumbass, I have a wife.”

“Oh, ya like girls?” His tone grosses you out even more than before.

“I like my wife, now go sort your food cans with the other’s before I starve your ass and take them.” You huff. He rolls his eyes and storms off.

“We aren’t going back there.” Maggie presses her lips into a firm line as the two of you enter your shared home, back from the trip to the sanctuary. “You don’t have to tell me twice.” You laugh, still feeling icky after the situation. “I’m serious, those men are pigs, all up on you like that.” Your wife takes off her flannel jacket and tosses it on the ottoman in the small living room as you grab a snack from the pantry. Taking a bite into a cookie, you raise an eyebrow, “Are you okay?” You ask her. She’s obviously not, she’s still seething after everything, angrily sitting down on the couch and sulking like a toddler that was denied a candy bar. “I’m fine.” She mumbles with her smooth southern accent. “You’re not fine, stop being like that.” You join her on the couch, offering her a cookie, which she denies. You eat the cookie instead, “You know you’re my wife, right? You’re the only one for me.” You turn to face her, looking into her beautiful green eyes, a small smile starting to form on her face. “I love you, hm?” You press small kisses all on her face until you reach her lips, waiting for her to say the phrase back. “I love you too.” She laughs. “Good.” You kiss her lips.

[ghouljams]

I am starving, famished, shriveled up and dying for more fae!Gaz, por favor sobra pero un pedazo 💔💔

Noooo mi novioooo, Gaz I'm sorry I have been neglecting you!! 😭

Gaz spots you from across the street. You radiant happiness shines like gold through the rest of the dismal crowd. He smacks Soap's chest to shut him up and earns a smack in return. After a minor tussle Gaz is following after you. Sliding through the usual 5 o'clock rush like water. You're easy to keep track of even if you weren't such a beacon he'd be drawn to your smile, the light in your eyes, the way you laugh with your whole chest when the person you're with tells some crappy joke.

He can feel the streets starting to twist. Your friend drifting away as you pull something up on your phone, the crowd thinning and thinning until it's just you. Just you walking alone down the cobblestone. Gaz breathes in the scent of you, the soft tinge of amber and salt in the air, the warping confusion that's starting to build as you look around at the buildings on either side of you. He can almost hear you asking yourself: have they always looked like that, did I take a wrong turn somewhere, did my friend? Easy prey. You must want something now, right?

You turn on your heel, start your walk back the way you came from with a shrug. Gaz pauses, that's- where's the panic? This is what he gets for taking a page out of Ghost's book. Low results that one. He's not used to thinking like a hunter, shit, what would Price do?

He'd use what he already has on you to get more. Intelligence begets intelligence.

Gaz catches your arm when you pass him, eyes still glued to the map on your phone. He tamps down your suspicion, your guard at being touched by a stranger. You look up with curiosity instead of annoyance. Gaz smiles and you smile back, a little unsure.

"Did you need something?" You ask, always careful words from the humans in this city. He says your name like a question, and you nod. Tethers between you light up, slick his words with your assent.

"We met at the bar?" He feeds you the memory, the good bits of it at least. He's always been rather talented with memory work. Recognition crosses your face.

"The cherry stem," you smile, like you can't stop it. He returns your smile with a nod, feels you shift a little on your feet invading his space. It's cute the way you step just a little closer to him.

"Come on, that can't be the only thing you remember," he teases. It is. He knows it is, but you'll blame the alcohol for any losses in memory. Pretty, stupid, thing. You are stunning the way you lie to him.

"Of course not."

Gaz hums, feels his teeth itch as you look to your phone again. He couldn't forget your face, but seeing you in the light of day like this feels like seeing you for the first time. You're positively radiant, bursting with life and light and everything he's never wanted more. No dim club lights to drown out the spark in your eyes.

The distorted map on your screen makes you shake your head, lock your phone and pocket it. You attention falls fully onto him. All that gorgeous gold that you drip with. He gets it. He knows why Soap eats his artists like candy, why Price chases one little Witch when there are easier prizes to be won, why Ghost wrapped himself in so many tethers there's no start or end to them. He knows why humans seek him out.

Moths to a flame.

What can he give you, what do you want? How can he hold a piece of you no matter how small?

"Are you lost?" Gaz offers, "I know the area pretty well if you want some help."

"That would be great actually, thanks," You sigh with relief. Gaz feels a tether settle, liquid and bright. Some small part of you, he thinks to himself. He wonders how many more he can get on you, how completely he can hold you before you notice. You said it would be nice to fall in love. He can do that. What's love but a few good coincidences?

[alfredosauce50]

Requests are closed, but this has been sitting in my head for months. A white picket fence-themed story with slasher undertones! This is a little different to my other posts (and longer) because it has a concept and build up, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway!

Content warning: Slasher horror, adult themes, and overall fucked-upness. Viewer discretion advised. R18+ only.

The reader is referred to as she/her.

Yandere America headcanons

Everyone says the same things about him. That he’s friendly, charming, and reliable. The boy-next-door, the type you’d trust your drink with. What nobody knows is that it’s all an elaborate guise to hide his true colors. Once he reveals them, there’s no going back. You’re never getting away from him.

The worst part is, nobody suspects a thing. Everyone would think you’re the crazy one for accusing him. Thus, his untouchable reputation (and cunning) makes him the most dangerous yandere of all.

The office romance

Alfred is the most popular guy in the building. He’s a hard worker, a people person, and lights up the room with his smile. It feels like he has everything going for him: a great job, good looks, and lots of friends that can’t get enough of him. What he can’t seem to get is your attention.

You’re married to the Danish ditz from customer relations, Mathias Densen. HR usually frowns on that sort of thing, but you were cute together. Either way, you’re friends with Alfred for the same reason everyone else is. He’s charming. The only difference is that he makes an effort to see you outside of work—to see a movie, to grab dinner, or to catch up over some coffee.

“So, what do you say? Me and you at Mastro’s?”

You’re walking out of the break room when he jogs over, his blue tie swinging from side to side. He’s been going on about having a steak dinner with a friend, then complaining nobody wants to go with him—only because he hasn’t asked anybody yet.

“I don’t know, Al. Isn’t that place expensive?”

“Hey, it’s not like I’m paying for the both of us.”

“Okay,” You laugh gently, turning toward the cubicles. Everyone is clacking away on their keyboards or speaking into their telephones. Your husband is one of them, only he’s more animated than the rest, nodding away and chuckling every now and then. “I’ll try and get Mat to pick me up at ten.”

“Great! I’ll be sitting in my office pretending to do stuff until we get off.” He beams.

He likes getting on your nerves. It’s that one trick that gets you to feel closer to him. And it works. During work hours, he’ll drop by your desk to steal your snacks for a reaction. He will literally pluck a candy bar or pastry out of your hand and stuff it in his mouth while walking away. When you get mad at him, he’ll just laugh and go, “you’re not supposed to eat at your cubicle. I’m just saving your ass from trouble. If you don’t believe me, you can take it up to HR.”

If he’s not picking on you, he’s a total sweetheart. Alfred will make you coffee without being asked. Mathias usually keeps an eye out for stuff like that, doing favors for you when you need them, but not when he’s predisposed with work. He’s easily distracted, unfortunately. And Alfred is an opportunist. “You look tired. I’ll add in an extra bit of everything to give you the energy.”

Being closer to him, he can act more like himself when he’s around you. That means less of the laughing, small talk, and all that nonsense. He can actually give you a straight answer. You’re willing to let him explain, and if not, you seem to trust him for his judgement. He loves that. He thrives off validation. But by the rare occasion you do disagree with him, you mostly just poke fun at him. “Doesn’t that seem kinda stupid? Or am I just an asshole? I’m the asshole? Okay, fine.”

He starts obsessing over you. It’s refreshing to be around someone he doesn’t need a social battery for. Alfred is also lonelier than he’d like to admit. He can’t count how many superficial acquaintances he has. You’re an outlier, so he make it clear he’s high-strung about you in a ‘guy best friend’ way. He won’t stop competing with Mathias over everything as a joke. It’s really not. “So, is the husband gonna take you to Field of Screams this weekend, or am I gonna have to?”

He makes his attraction to you glaringly obvious. Alfred doesn’t care to hide it. It starts off subtle, like looking at you when he’s laughing in a group setting. Then, he’ll start gazing your way when you aren’t even paying attention to him. When it gets to that point, he has the balls to hold your waist when he’s around you. When I say he’s an expert at playing things off, I mean it.

That’s when he starts scheming. He will match his schedule with yours and sabotage Mathias’s. You start seeing him more during the work week, not knowing it was his doing. Alfred will catch you in the break room every day, making sure to get in every ounce of interaction there is.

What gets him to blow his cover is jealousy. And not from the third-wheeling he’s already doing. That, he can keep a lid on. But telling him you hope to have a baby soon? With your husband?Alfred will turn red in the face and lose his composure. His reaction is visceral, rambling about why you shouldn’t, that it’ll ruin your career, that kids aren’t economic, and any other bullshit reason he can come up with on the spot.

“You’re too young,” He laughs breathily. He’s already rubbing you the wrong way, but he drives the stake in with this comment. “And plus, do you really wanna have a baby with that guy? I mean, look at him—”

You slap him right across the face.

His head turns in the direction of your hand. He falls silent, his smile gone. That’s the end of your friendship. But to him, it’s the start of something else. And it isn’t half as holy as what you have with Mathias. Or what anyone has, for that matter.

“What, do you hate me now? Just say it and I’ll leave you alone.” Alfred gives you a side-eye.

“I really want to hate you.” You fume, wrapping your arms around yourself. Your voice is hushed to hide the hurt in it. “You’re an asshole. But I just want you to apologize, even if I shouldn’t talk to you again.”

“Fine. I’m sorry.”

When you argue

Alfred is manipulative. He victimizes himself or over-exaggerates to make it seem like something is not his fault. “I’m sorry for giving my opinion. I was just trying to be honest,” or “Great. Now I’m the bad guy.” are typical responses when you confront him. He hates being confronted. He will do anything to avoid the blame, even if it means pinning it on you. He never admits he’s wrong.

He needs to have the last word in an argument. He will go back and forth with you for hours if he has to. He only ever stops when you give up, meaning you storm out on him. He’s knocking on your door, pleading to work this out with you. Shut him out all you want, he’ll force himself into the room. “Babe, just hear me out. I’m sorry for being an asshole—wait, don’t lock the door—you locked the door. You know I have keys, right?”

If you’re crying, he turns gentle and affectionate. Kissing, hugging, whispering how sorry he is for hurting your feelings. Alfred then makes it up to you with a romantic dinner, a movie night, or flowers. Even then, he still won’t double-down. He only feels bad for making you cry, not for the point he’s making. Egocentric is his middle name. He thinks his opinions are always right, and can’t see things from another perspective.

Psychology

He has a sense of entitlement like no other. Being close to him will give him the confidence to do anything. He will go from a friend to a homewrecker pretty fast. Why? Because he can. It comes from his undying belief that you’ll always forgive him. That you like him enough to let everything he does slide. And he won’t think twice to take advantage of your soft spot for him.

He has a major superiority complex. Alfred loves what he is—his intelligence, charisma, and wit. He also believes he’s far better for you than Mathias is. What he has with you is more special, and he’s dying on that hill. “You can be with him in another life” is bullshit. Fuck that. Having a husband won’t stop him from chasing you, let alone your rejection. You just need to give him some time. You’ll warm up eventually.

He’s mastered the art of seduction. Once he admits his attitude is out of jealousy, he will try and get you to give in to him. If he can kiss you, or better yet, get you to have sex with him, your marriage will be over. He’ll have you all to himself. “I didn’t want you to have his baby because I want you to have mine. Okay?”

Alfred is very traditional. He loves the idea of having a nice big house in the suburbs. He has a thing for kids too, so it’s no wonder why he freaked out so much in the first place. He’s also happy to play along with gender roles, however obsolete they are. He wants to be the provider. That’s one thing he mentions to persuade you to dump Mathias and marry him instead.

He’s obsessed with his image. Alfred needs to look like a perfect poster boy to compensate for everything he’s thinking about doing, or what he’s already done. Being admired is a coping mechanism for him to be at peace with himself. He’s deluding himself that he’s a good person. There’s a practicality of a good reputation too—he can avoid any and all suspicion.

What’s unique about him is that he never ‘snaps’. He retains a level-headedness throughout, even while doing the most unsound things. Making threats, stalking, you name it. He can look Mathias straight in the eye and say, “I’ll kill you,” before smiling and playing it off as a joke. It’s not. He’s already thinking about how he’s gonna do it.

He feels no empathy for his victims. There’s a ‘necessity’ in his actions, and he refuses to think they’re really just violent impulses. He associates aggression with unrefined criminals, which he feels he’s above. He’s too clever and classy to be a criminal. He’s too ‘in control’ of himself. Alfred could be the most dangerous out of all the prisoners behind bars, but he’d get pretty pissed being treated like the same—like an animal.

He’s a true-blue psychopath. It’s hard to gauge how much love he’s capable of, but his obsession with you goes without saying. Keeping you in his grasp is all he can care about. Controlling how the world sees him will make sure of that. Killing anybody in his way is just maintenance. There’s a satisfying finality of death, the absolute silence of possible witnesses. His victims will never get him caught if they’re in the trunk of his car. The soil in his garden. When they let out their last breath, all they see is the million-dollar smile that everyone fell for. It’s a final display of power, a cruel reminder that he will never be caught.

His first target is your unassuming husband. The trigger is simple—your plans to start a family with him. Alfred needs to get rid of him before that happens. He will study his schedule before following him in his car. When Mathias is alone, he will sneak up from behind and hit him in the back of his head with a bat. Alfred will pack his body in his trunk like he’s packing for Summer.

He’ll comfort you while you’re grieving your husband’s sudden disappearance. When you’re anxious in the middle of the night, he’s more than happy to talk to you over the phone. Alfred is now closer to you than ever, and makes it a habit to swing by and keep you company. What he can’t change is how you feel about Mathias. He’s long dead and gone, but your love for him is undying. Sometimes, you might even cry about how much Alfred reminds you of him.

That’s how he comes up with this: impersonating and replacing your late husband. An opportunity comes along when you get in a car accident. Alfred rushes to the hospital to see you, only for the doctor to inform him of the brain trauma you endured. You have retrograde amnesia; you can’t remember major details about your life. Not your friends, family, or a Mathias Densen being in your life. Alfred would be a fool if he didn’t take advantage of that. He will sit by your bedside and lie that he’s your husband, the Mr to your Mrs.

Home life

Alfred is a con artist. Not only will he convince you of your new marital status, he’ll get rid of any evidence of Mathias being in your life. He’ll photoshop his face out of your pictures and replace it with his own. It’s easy to do because they look similar. Then, he shows it to you to ‘refresh’ your memories of him. You’re sitting in your hospital bed, bonding with him over events that never happened. Not with him, anyway. “And these—” He flips through a photo book before wiping his eyes. “—these are our wedding photos. They’re really, really pretty, I know. We rented out a National park and everything.”

He takes you ‘home’ to the middle of nowhere. The house is a huge, rustic, and gorgeous manor in the mountains, i.e., miles away from your next door neighbor. It’s the perfect getaway for fresh air, quiet, and enjoying the wilderness. Alfred can live the life he’s always idealized, and with the woman he’s idealized it with. He won’t have to worry about anybody finding you here, either. “Once you get a little better, we can try out the pool. It’s heated.” He grins, turning to you with a spatula in hand. You’re sitting in the patio while he barbecues some meat. As for the apron, it’s a bright pink one with ‘kiss the cook’ on it. And you do, thanking him for how sweet he’s being.

He’s a dedicated husband. Alfred is incredibly sensitive to your mood, and will do anything to keep you comfortable. He has no problem going to work, doing the chores and being there for you when you need him, especially while you recover. You worry you’re not doing enough, but he always assures you otherwise. All he wants is for you to get used to moving around on your own. Deep down, he knows that having you is more than what he deserves. Being the perfect hubby is almost like his redemption for what he did.

He works on himself. He can’t ruin what he has with you, so he tries to mellow out his more undesirable traits—narcissism, apathy, etc. Alfred will go to therapy for it. Separating from him isn’t on the table. Ever. What are people gonna say when you tell them you divorced a man you never married? What is Alfred gonna do when they tell you about your real husband? Keeping you happy is his number one priority, and he’ll feel good while doing it.

Alfred manages all your affairs. You don’t know where everything is, all your files, documents, and important passwords. You don’t ‘remember’ them, apparently. But that’s no problem. He can handle it. He becomes the more dominant one in the relationship, being responsible for the bills and bureaucratic side of things. There’s nothing you can do without asking him first, but it never feels restricting, or demeaning for that matter. He’s always kind about it, doing things for you and taking the lead, so you feel protected.

He’s very sensual. Alfred values the physical aspect of the relationship, and, of course, the time he spends with you. He loves taking you on long walks where he can just hold your hand and ramble about all the animals he wants to find. Deer, chipmunks, even butterflies. He loves it when you take off his glasses just to kiss him. Suddenly, he doesn’t want to look for animals anymore. “Wanna go home and kiss in the pool?”

He likes sleeping in on Sundays. That gives you the chance to get up and make breakfast for him. Alfred is a pretty heavy sleeper, but it doesn’t take long for him to wake up when you’re not next to him. He will get out of bed, throw on a robe, and saunter into the kitchen with the worst bed head of the century. While you’re frying up some pancakes, he will hug you from behind. “Can you put in some chocolate chips for mine?” Alfred mumbles, squeezing you tighter. You ask him to let go of you so you can get it for him, and he’ll just change his mind on the spot. “Nah.”

He has to be in the same room as you. The house is pretty damn big, but it doesn’t feel like a home when he can’t be with you. If you’re folding laundry in the bedroom, he will walk in, flop onto the bed, and clack away on his laptop. If you’re watching TV when he comes home from work, he will put his head on your lap and take a nap. Alfred is clingy when he’s tired, but who doesn’t sleep better when they’re around loved ones?

He’s the most affectionate when he wakes up in the morning. Not only is he comfortable in bed, he’s turned on by your smell. You’ve been under the covers with him for hours, so your scent is the strongest now. Alfred will cuddle you for a good hour or so, kissing you until you memorize the taste of his tongue. He also has to deal with morning wood, so morning sex becomes a bit of a routine. It’s the first thing on the menu, after all.

Not a month goes by before you find out you’re pregnant. Either from him, or Mathias. You think it’s Alfred’s. Alfred doesn’t know that, though. But it’s not like he’s gonna check. A paternity test could potentially be evidence for his crimes. Either way, it doesn’t matter. He’s excited to be a father, and there’s nobody else out there that can claim the baby is theirs. The baby will look like him too, so it won’t make much of a difference.

He’s happy, you’re happy, and Mathias has germinated into a flower. There’s a pretty patch of daisies in the backyard, which you see Alfred tending to every now and then. He’s picked up gardening as a hobby ever since he moved here.

“I didn’t know you liked flowers,” You comment mindlessly, staring into the yard from the balcony. The daisies sway lightly to the breeze, and you stand watch. He’s hugging you from behind, kissing your head and cheek. “They look really nice, by the way.”

“Nice enough to not be dug up, I hope.”

“Why would I dig up something you planted?”

“You wouldn’t.” Alfred smiles. “You wouldn’t.”

[thedepressexpress]

hi! when I get depressed it's really hard to make sure I'm eating as much as I should so here are some things I eat when I don't have the energy to do shit

these are depression meals so they are in no way balanced and an ideal diet, this is to get you through it. if you have depression, some of these on your shopping list are a good idea. I update this list whenever I remember something

I'm also assuming the only equipment you have is a bowl, spoon, sink, microwave and at most, a can opener. in no particular order:

granola bars and adjacent things like nuts, dried fruit, etc

frozen sausages: break them in half and microwave, if they're too cold to break you can run them under hot water or leave them out for a couple minutes, you need the break them or they might explode

canned corn: open and eat with a spoon, you can strain and microwave if you want it hot

cheese: put it in a bowl and microwave till it melts or till it's crispy, your choice but if you do just cheese don't use a porous bowl

instant noodles: don't use a pan, use a bowl, empty the contents in the bowl, add water till at least half of the noodle thing is submerged, microwave for 2-4 minutes, mix and eat

regular noodles: use a bigger bowl than you normally would, add some dry pasta to it and enough water to cover the pasta but not much more, it might overflow, and microwave for a few minutes more than the package says to boil, drain the water and put in whatever, condiment, sauce, cheese, sausages, frozen veggies, and microwave again, it's more time intensive but also more nutrients so

canned beans: you can eat as is if it comes in a sauce, but if you got the ones with the clear liquid you can strain and rinse and if you don't have a strainer, open the can just a little from the tab and open a faucet, let the water run into the can and adjust the position of the lid till the water can go in without any of the beans coming out, it'll dissolve the liquid and it'll flow out, leave it for a bit then shake it, turn it upside to drain, let it refill then leave it again, repeat till the water over flowing isn't that weird liquid

crackers/biscuits: keep a stash of biscuits that you can eat, bonus if you can eat them with milk or tea or coffee or juice

juice: buy your favorite and keep a bottle in the fridge or frozen if you suspect you're starting to spiral and might need it in a few hours

readymade meals: whenever you go to do your grocery shopping, buy just one premade meal

vegetables: keep a vegetable you like that you can eat raw like cucumbers or carrots

fruits: keep a fruit you know you can eat or you know you can drown in something else, for example I don't like apples but I can eat them if they're covered in peanut butter

sweets: you can keep a favorite hard candy to get yourself salivating idk for me if helps activate some hunger while getting rid of the painful part of being hungry

butters and spreads: you can find premade sandwich spread with chicken in them, or jams or spreads that are savory like peanut/almond/cashew butter or sweet like a chocolate/vanilla spread

rice: if you make rice and ever have some left over you can freeze it and eat it later, you can also do that with rice in a bag

tofu: you can eat it raw as long as you drain the liquid it comes with

condiments: almost all of these things can be improved or 'seasoned' with ketchup, mayo, mustard, ranch, tartar sauce, marinara, etc. it'll give some flavor and make it taste better but don't microwave sauces unless they're properly mixed with the food especially mayo based ones, they can get weird

frozen vegetables: any time you're using the microwave to make these things, throw in a handful of frozen vegetables and microwave for a little longer

cereal: pair cereal with foods like yogurt instead of milk, you can add chocolate drink powder to the yogurt before adding the cereal which is really nice, you can also make it directly in the yogurt container if it's small enough

electrolytes: you can make them a bottle using two dashes of salt (1/4 tsp), a 2second squeeze of a honey bottle (2 tsp) and some kind of juice for a better flavor

potatoes: stab them all around with a fork, microwave for about six minutes, turn it over then microwave again, keeping microwaving and turning till it's soft on the inside and you can eat it

order out: if you can afford to order food, order it, some tips to get the most out of what you order 1. order a family box of food to store in the fridge 2. when you microwave it, do it with some water in a glass with your bowl/food in the microwave

if opening the tab on a can is keeping you from eating, try this. it'll open the can, you can use a knife, the back of a spoon, etc.

if it keeps you from spiraling, it's worth doing. and if it's worth doing, it's worth doing poorly. eating something is better than eating nothing.

hope this helps, if you can, please add more things!

[jjtheresidentbaby]

id love a ficlet with little!sam and cg!dean (s1) with the prompt: A making sure to take care of B if they sometimes forget to do important stuff; eat, sleep, drink water, not overwork themselves!

im not entirely sure what age range sam would be when regressed so do whatever feels right!!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cooler in the backseat ⋆ﾟ⊹ ➢ event masterlist

|| dean winchester & sam winchester | for @bebbie-bilinski

a/n: this kinda just focused on the eating/drinking part of the prompt but I hope you enjoy

warnings: set season 1, pet names, mentions of pre-canon

-

Dean’s always taken care of Sam, they both know it and have never questioned it, but it seems a bit more obvious now. Ever since that first night where Sam had slipped after a hunt and clung onto Dean, his brothers been more insistent about taking care of Sam.

He’s stopped complaining about Sam’s favoring for healthier foods of salads and fruits, instead he invested in a cooler for the back of the Impala and keeps a few containers of pre-cut fruit in it. There’s other items stowed away in the small cooler: water bottles, juice boxes, dressings for salads, sauces for fries or burgers, just small things for the hours they spend on the road. Dean got a box to put next to the cooler that holds an assortment of small bags of chips and cookies, some granola bars and a small stash of candy, he went all out.

To be honest Dean didn’t mean to get so much supplies or fill up Baby’s backseat like that, it just happened. Sam had been cleaning up their motel room while Dean went to the store and suddenly he had a full shopping cart and a million grocery bags. The cashier even mentioned his haul, commenting that his kid must love him for getting so many snacks, Dean smiled at the comment and didn’t feel the need to correct her.

The more they drive around and get used to having the stash ready at hand the more Dean’s glad he made it. It’s easy, and probably a little cheaper now that they aren’t stopping every so often to go into a diner or drive through. Sam seems to like it, he gets excited to walk around the grocery store holding Deans hand and pointing to what he thinks they should get. It works well for them.

“You thirsty Sammy?” There’s a long stretch of empty road in front of Dean, the heat of Texas thankfully hasn’t set in this early in the morning, but he knows he should probably get Sam to start drinking something now. Avoiding a headache because of dehydration while in the midst of a heat wave would be best.

“Tired.” Sam groans but it holds no annoyance and Dean hums along. They’ve been driving all night and while Sam’s nodded off a few times, they could both use a real bed.

“I know Bud, we’re gonna stop soon.” There should be a town coming up that they’ll hopefully be able to find a motel in.

“Think you can drink something for me?” He glances at Sam’s curled up figure, tucked into a small ball against the impalas door with a tired look in his eyes. He’s definitely regressed, that much is obvious to Dean, he can’t pinpoint if he woke up little or has been slowly slipping into his headspace the longer he’s half-awake. Not that it matters all that much, either way Dean knows he’s now in charge of making decisions about what Sam needs, including getting Sam to drink something.

“Here, take a few sips for me.” Dean leans back in his seat to reach and grab one of the juice boxes that sit stacked in the cooler, they just restocked so it’s pretty easy to grab while he’s driving. Sam takes the juice but only stares down at it, a perplexed crinkle in his brow that tells Dean he’s regressed smaller than Dean had originally thought.

“Need help with that?” He chuckles lightly at Sam’s firm nod before the juice box is held out for Dean.

Dean thinks he’s mastered opening snacks and juice boxes while driving by now, even before Sam went off to Stanford they’d drive around to research at library’s and Sam always had some snack that he needed opening. Part of Dean wonders if his brother regressed back then, Sam’s talked briefly about his regression mostly being involuntarily, maybe that’s why he couldn’t get things open so often back then.

“There we go, you don’t have to finish it but sip at it.” Sam would chug it if Dean didn’t specify what was expected.

Growing up with John as a parent has left some scars behind for both boys but Sam’s regression really brings them out. He’s quick to do what’s asked, only wanting to please, to make Dean happy, to keep the peace despite there being no threat of chaos anymore. It makes Deans chest tight when he thinks about it too long, and he knows he’ll be extra cautious about arguments when they do end up finding John.

“Is it good?” A smile tugs on Deans lips when Sam nods with a content hum. He looks a little more awake now, already pointing towards the radio which Dean happily complies on turning on. One of the cassettes Dean has starts to play and Sam taps his fingers along his thigh with the beat, just like Dean taps against the steering wheel, it fills Dean with pride. He’ll always watch out for his baby brother, he thinks Sam knows it.

[tf2heritageposts]

There is: (i got too excited and it's a bit long sorry)

What kind of brazillian foods/drinks the mercs would like the most

Scout:

He would love any kinds of street foods, his favorite ones would be coxinha, a fried snack stuffed with chicken; Hot dogs in the São Paulo way, they usually have mashed potatoes, corn, peas and shoestring potatoes above (with ketchup and mustard, of course) and pastel, a fried dough (the texture is similar to a puff pastry) that can have many kinds of fillings, the most usual one is mozzarella cheese. He also would love eat this while drink sugarcane juice (it's a classical combo).

Soldier:

This one is funny, bc in my head all the other mercs had to lie to him that they were getting 100% american food so he could at least try some, and he keep eating it without knowing the thruth. His favorite ones would also be ones of the most iconical ones, by irony of the destiny, such as feijoada and pão de queijo. He would also love farofa (is made either with corn or cassava, braised with oil and can have diverses other igredients too) but since Soldier is build diferently, insted of eating it as a side dish he just cook a huge ass pan of farofa and eat all of it with a spoon.

Pyro:

He would love brigadeiro, because is sweet as him (awwn). He would love churrasco (brazilian barbecue), so much that he, engineer and sniper would be the ultimate churrasqueiros of the team (however only engineer and sniper are alowed to touch on the grill since the incident). From the many things that can be made in a churrasco, Pyro likes garlic bread the most (because it gets burned at outisde really quickly but still ok to eat). The last thing from his list would be cuscuz paulista, recipe that blend corn flour and many other igredients, and that people from other brazilian states keep saying its ugly but THATS UNTRUE YALL JUST DONT KNOW HOW TO MAKE IT - me, a sad paulistana.

Engineer:

As said before, he would love churrasco, and any kind of red meat should be his favorite (picanha, striploin…). He would also like the local beer options and condensed milk pudding (pudim). No special rasion on the last one (besides giving all the mercs at least 3 itens).

Demoman:

He would LOVE drinking cachaça (alchoolic drink made with sugarcane) and caipirinha as well (drink made with cachaça, lime, sugar and ice). For eat, his favorite food should be torresmo (pork skin with fat cut into small pieces and fried until crispy), that is also a good side dish in brazilian bar's.

Heavy:

His first favorite option would be estrogonofe, wich is actually a brazilian version of a russian recipe (stroganoff), with some alterations. He would also enjoy virado à paulista (plate composed of a beans and cassava flour mix, together with pork chop, tuscan sausage, fried egg, braised cabbage and a piece of breaded banana), it's a really big meal to a really big guy. Finally, he would go for "caipiroska" for drinking, with is a caipirinha variation but with vodka in the place of cachaça (wich i didn't know existed until i started writing this kkkkkk)

Medic:

Cuca de banana (a cake with bananas and a sugar & cinnamon on top) would be one of his favorite desserts (it also has a germanic origin i also didn't knew kkkkkk). He also would like specific foods from Bahia, such as Acarajé (dumpling made from black-eyed pea dough, onion and salt, and fried in palm oil, can be stuffed with shrimp or other options of filling) and cocada (candy made with coconut), but I can't specify why yet bc it envolves a headcanon/AU i'm still making and i want it to be a silly surprise, i'll edit here once it's done.

Sniper:

The last one of the ultimate churrasqueiros, his favorite item would be chiken's hearts. Aparently pumpkings are very used in australian culinary, so i like to imagine he would also like doce de abobora (dessert made with pumpking). Finally, i guess tapioca (cassava gum, can be fried like a pancake and stuffed to taste, among other uses) just suits him idk.

Spy:

He would love Carolina (looks like a éclair, but is smaller, rounder, and filled with dulce de leche) and sonho (fried dough, usualy filled with vanilla cream and with sprinkled sugar above. The name of this recipe translate to "dream" in a literal form btw kkkkk). Ending this list, Spy would enjoy queijo com goiabada (a slice of minas cheese thogeter with a slice of guava paste).

Thank you for reading until here, and sorry if i made you fell hungry hihihi

holy shit this is so good

also i want carolina that looks so good

i also want the sugarcane drinks, please god i’ll do anything

[justsomerandomfanfic]

In A Pickle - Indiana Jones X Female Reader

Title: In A Pickle

Indiana Jones X Female Reader

Additional Characters: N/A

Requested by Anon!

WC: 1,776

Warnings: Reader is short, Reader likes to live dangerously, anxiety, teasing, taunting, slight suggestiveness, Butterfinger™, stomach ache (sugar), slight itty-bitty angst, Indy being adorably annoying, nervousness, embarrassment, touch-starved Indy, nicknames, and fluff

You glared up at the highest shelf, eyes narrowed and lips pursed as you placed your hands on your hips. Your small box of Butterfingers stared right back. Your fingers twitched as you huffed, trying to see whether not it was better to call Indy for help, or just climb the counters and do it yourself. Leaning to the side slowly, you peeked down the hall, Indiana's office door was shut. Leaning back, you'd made your decision. Even though it may have been smarter to interrupt whatever work Indiana was working on to get your snack. You didn't really feel like walking down that hallway, knocking on his door, and using up your non-existent Sunday energy to ask him to help you. It was your last day off and you wanted to do nothing with it except eat junk food and watch Fred and Ginger on the telly.

Huffing again, you stepped up to the counter, placing a hand on the counter and one holding the ledge of the open cupboard, you pulled yourself up. Pushing your knee on the counter, you pulled your other leg up before pausing for a breath. Looking up, you growled. Your Butterfingers were still too high for you to reach. Just to be sure, you tried to reach for the box, your fingers not even reaching the top of the shelf below your precious peanut buttery chocolates. Slowly, you reached for the shelf's ledge, pulling yourself up, firmly planting your feet on the counter now eye-level with your beautiful box. You couldn't stop the smile on your face as you grabbed your Butterfinger box, pulling it to your chest with a great sigh of relief. Suddenly, your stomach flutters as you flail your arms slightly to try and regain your balance. With a little more strength in your legs, you managed to right yourself before collapsing on the hard floor next to the counter, giggling and snuggling your chocolate Butterfingers with your newfound adrenaline. The sound of someone clearing their throat caused you to look over. Indy stood there, smirking at you, leaning against the wall; his cute little glasses perched on his nose. 

"What are you doing?" He asked, crossing his arms as he looked at you; his eyes trailing over your figure before landing back on your eyes.

You placed your box on the middle shelf at your waist, opening it before pulling out one Butterfinger, slowly, meticulously peeling its yellow wrapper skin off before taking a big bite. You looked back at Indiana, before shrugging and swallowing your bite, "Someone put my Butterfingers on the top shelf. Do you know who would ever do such a thing?" You asked before taking another bite.

Indiana made a face, as if he didn't know, looking around the room before turning back to you. "No. I don't think I do."

You hummed, taking another bite, "Odd, cause, Indy baby, we're the only two that live in this house. And, I don't think you've noticed but... I'm too short to even reach the top shelf." You mocked sarcastically as Indiana mimicked your hum, pushing off the wall and walking over.

"Oh, I've noticed." He began, looking up at you slightly, his hands placed on either side of your socked feet, "It's pretty hard not to notice how short you are, sweetheart. Not that I don't enjoy the view~" He teased, causing you to blush slightly.

You huffed, finishing your candy bar before stuffing the wrapper in the box with the rest of the non-eaten Butterfingers. Placing your hands on your hips, you stared down at Indiana; finally feeling a bit more confident being taller than him. "Well, aren't you charming." You rolled your eyes playfully, "But you're not charming my pants off today, Jones! I'm having my Slow Sunday, where I can eat Butterfingers until I get a stomach ache and fall asleep on the couch after watching I Love Lucy." You proclaimed, as Indiana just grinned up at you.

He patted your foot lightly before straightening. "Okay, sweetie," He said with a teasing smirk, "But I'd be happy to carry you if you need me to. Don't want you to slip and fall while you're trying to get down." He added. His tone turned playful as he looked up at you, your brain finally registering his fingers slowly slipping up your legs, stopping at the back of your calves; hand large and warmth seeping into you.

"Fine." You huff, rolling your eyes again, "But no funny business, Jones." You pointed an accusatory finger at him. Indiana just smiled innocently, opening his arms up for you to jump in. You huffed again, before dropping into his arms. Arms wrapped around his neck, you pressed a kiss to his stubbly cheek in thanks before hopping out of his arms. Walking to the living room, you pause mid-step. Turning back to Indiana, he watched with another smug smirk. "Uh, I forgot my box... On that shelf. Could you..?" You trailed off, watching as Indiana nodded and stepped back to the counter, grabbing your box of Butterfingers and handing them to you.

"My hero~" You softly cheered before turning around with a pep in your step.

Feeling a small tap on your behind, you squealed in surprise. Turning back around you watched with a glare as your Indiana walked back to his office, whistling a happy tune. You watched as he paused at his open door, turning his head to look back at you with a smirk. "Have fun, honey." He spoke sweetly, before shutting his office door.

You pursed your lips, sighing dramatically before you turned back to the living room and headed to the telly. Turning it on and finding the right channel, you plopped on the couch with another sigh. "I said no funny business, but of course, he has to tease me. Every time. So irritating." You muttered as you opened another Butterfinger. "No one lays a finger on my Butterfinger." You continued to mutter as your glare deepened as you stared at the telly.

~~~

Five Butterfingers in, you rubbed your tummy, feeling it rumble and hearing it grumble as if it was telling you how much of a terrible person you were for making it hurt. You almost felt bad. But you would never regret it. Those candy bars were heaven and you would eat ten more if you really wanted to. But, you thought it was best to take a small break. Maybe have some water. That might help you from falling into a sugar coma. Pushing up from the couch, you headed back to the kitchen, opening the cup cupboard, you paused. Your favorite cup, the one you always used, was missing. Looking to the side, it wasn't in the sink, and you always washed your cup after you were done. Even on Sundays. 

Sighing, you opened the other cupboard, looked over all of the cups, and sighed once more. It wasn't there either. You placed your hands on your hips, racking your brain for the information on where you had misplaced your beloved cup. 

"Looking for something, dear?" You heard behind you.

Turning around, you placed your hand over your heart as you took in a breath. Glaring at Indiana you shake your head, "You  sneaky devil." You breathed out, "Gonna give me a heart attack one day."

Indiana hummed, "I'm sorry, honey." He apologized, walking over to you and placing his hands on your hips, looking down at you with his sad puppy dog eyes. "I'll make it up to you, by helping you get your cup down." He gestured up at the cupboard behind you with his eyes.

You looked up at him confused as you turned around in his arm, going up on your tippy-toes to see that your cup... Was on the highest shelf; pushed near the back. Turning back around, you glared up at Indiana, crossing your arms. "Indiana..." You warned and he raised his hands up, taking a step back.

"I didn't mean to, honey. I was putting away the clean dishes. Must have slipped my mind that it was your cup." He tried to explain. 

You stared at him for a good while, your eyes searching his, "Why do I feel like you're hiding my things in high places just so you can grab them for me?" You asked, voice lowering as Indiana shot out a small laugh.

"Me? Why would you think tha-"

You raised a hand, silencing him, "I know when I am being played, Indy. And you are playing me. You can't deny that you have your own way of getting what you want."

Indiana looked taken aback by your words, his face softening. Taking a deep breath, he took a small step towards you, "Sweetheart, listen," He pleaded and you stared up at him. "I'm not doing this in a malicious way. I just... Like helping you. Most importantly... Spending time with you." He said softly, almost as if he was embarrassed. 

You dropped your crossed arms, your eyes softening, "You know you could just spend time with me without making me climb the counter or ask you for help. Right? You don't have to be stuck in that office all the time." You told him.

Indy's cheeks flushed pink and he scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, "Yeah, I know you're right..." He laughed awkwardly.

You smiled softly, taking a step closer to him, reaching up to place a hand on his chest, "Hey, how about... You grab some chips, make some popcorn, and get me some water... And..." You leaned up to him, eyes half-lidded as you brushed your nose against his, "And then you can come to watch I Love Lucy with me." You pat his chest once, "And we can cuddle since you're soooo touch-starved." You teased, before leaving the kitchen. You paused, peeking your head back in, “I can’t blame you, Indy. I am too. So hurry up. I want my cuddles.” You jokingly demanded before going back to the couch.

Indian chuckled softly, shaking his head, following your instructions quickly, before rushing to the living room and placing a bag of chips beside you on the couch; your water on the coffee table. He sat close beside you, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before settling in. His arm quickly wrapped around you, pulling you closer as you laid your head on his chest. 

“I love you, Indy.” You mumbled softly, feeling his warm breath fanning against your cheek.

“Love you too.” He whispered back. "...Shorty."

"I will hide that hat of yours and you know it."

[blorbologist]

mnim mnim mnim- trick or treat and Zahra?

Treat! :D

--

Zahra was not exactly sheltered, growing up. For all that she was kept in a cage, it did not shield her from anything. Hunger, fear, distrust, pain. You know.

When freedom was offered to her on a cold floor and a somehow warmer moonbeam, she embraced it carefully. Mostly because the first time she could eat - really, truly eat! To her heart’s content! Whatever she liked, claimed the kind tiefling that took her in! - she bloated up like a balloon and retched most of it. And panicked (at the waste, she couldn’t waste, she was a waste). 

Safe to say, she took to the lesson well. Free as she might be, there were still limits out there. To her body, to her powers, to the world. And, truthfully? She had no interest, none at all, in finding where the bars of this cage were.

All that droll prologue to say… well. This is new.

“Candy?”

“Candy,” Vex’ahlia confirms, with the lithe grin of one familiar. She rifles through - no, really picks through it, like a bird at grain in gravel - to pluck a twin to the one she just popped in her mouth. “You know - sweets. Usually made from fruit juices, or chocolate. I know I never saw any in shops in Vasselheim, but have you really never -”

“Oh, I’ve heard, darling,” Zahra interrupts. Vex’ahlia will throw the gleaming thing at her with no provocation, so she reaches over to pluck it from her fingers. The wrapper crinkles in merry silver and reds. Like one of that Percival’s bullets, painted with blood. Charming! “Just never… thought such a small snack was worth the coin.”

Vex hums, already looking for her next prize. “Well, it’s worth mine. And it’s my treat. Go on - try some, before the boys get to the stash. Or Pike.”

Alright, alright. The claws make untwisting the waxy paper a bit of a hassle, but she unveils an elegant little lozenge with curls of vibrant color. She can’t quite smell the fruit flavor her friend noted, and so opens her mouth and drops the candy on her tongue.

Zahra purrs, tail curling loops around the chair’s arm. Strawberry and lemon melt and meet in something she can only describe as magical.

“You’re exaggerating,” Vex grouses. Then, with great cheer: “Try the orange one, darling.”

No, absolutely not. Zahra takes the whole bowl, to Vex’s laughter. She’s trying all of them.

(Unfortunately, that alerts Vox Machina to her loot, which is a whole ordeal. The childhood starvation might have resulted in a touch of food guarding. Oops.)

🎃Trick or Treat! Send me an ask and you'll get a trick (angst) or treat (fluff) ficlet in return! 🎃

[kagender]

I wonder What is Keronian Cusine like? And would keronians as a whole like earth foods?

ohhh nonny keronian cuisine is definitely something i need to go into deep deep thoughts about! i would say its not as developed as id like it to be, id love to draw out specific dishes and stuff.

the complicated fun of the cuisine of space faring species us the fact that they almost definitely brought over, or took inspiration from the foods of other planets, if demeed edible for a keronian. like how in america several dishes from other countries got modified into more "americanized" forms, as we as humans all have different ways of preparing our food to out tastes, which can also vary from region to region... this opens up the world of dishes from other countries within keron itself as well LOL. i need to think about that too!

but im running my mouth off. in my interpretations keronian diets started off as primarily insect-based, with fruit/plants as the secondary component (i know that there arent actually any herbivorous frogs on our earth, but since these guys are aliens i do loove playing around with their biology haha :-)) and then meat being thrown in a bit later on. kerons love for insects still goes strong - you can find them candied/carmalized, fried or breaded for more of the crunch factor, spiced or sweetened, however you like, larvae toasted or boiled (you can get a glimpse of one in my girodoro pmv - its a little lightly sweet tasting guy usually eaten at campfires. gross marshmallows for us humans) limbs of particularly large insects being sold as snacks (one of keroros disappointments when coming to earth was finding out just how small the average insect is there. i have a doodle somewhere. pekopon has fallen...) and insides being grinded up to a nice cream and such. thats a tadpole food mainly, but i dont see why grown keronians cant eat it!

you can imagine that being combined with fruit (well. vegetables too. the two blend together in my head due to the nature of being a Thing From Plant That You Eat) a plenty, i think plenty of bugs are fed with them before being prepared (iirc thats a thing that we do, people give their feeder insects vegetables for a more nutritous meal for their pet later on... its called gut loading!), which reminds me that i imagine zeroro being fed the healthiest, top-quality and absolutely fully sanitized and parasite-free bugs as a kid. hes got a rich as fuck family they couldve hired a private farm for all i know. its funny to think about. but coming back to plant stuff, i imagine juices and teas would be a hit as well, there is a doodle i posted a while (...about a year) ago that shows a tea made from glowing leaves from another glowing plant post that i made. the ziv stuff goes deep im sorry. ya think it stains tongues like those ice pops they sold back in the day? makes you think....

fruit alone just opens up so much for the world of baking. i dont like fruit in my pastries, but i definitely respect the grind. we put that stuff in everything in so many forms its kinda wild. just imagine all the cutesy designs that could be made for them...

in the anime, they are very much shown to like and eat earth foods, in fact i dont think a lot of alien food shows up other than like, these weird food monsters, burei cola aka kid friendly alcohol, the keron figs from kero zero (love them...) and the yumyum bars from a chibi kero episode that are like, just chocolate bars i believe? i could throw in some funny quirk to them myself i think....

i do recall them eating foods that are oretty much 1:1 to earths in chibikero? the lame side us that no one on the staff really thought about designing any cool space stuff for them to eat, but the cool side is that it can imply some importing from earth. ya think thete are some sellers who just casually work with aliens or is it a weird process of an alien disguising as human -> getting the foods -> getting them to their planet? i like to lean more towards the former since the earth in keroro gunso just really seems to have a bunch of weird connections to aliens outside of the main cast. most of them are from the past (the pyramids where sababa rests, all the kiruru ruins, the unknown human and keronian from the saburo and kururu episode where they fight the sound guy, and i think the kappa the ghost girl knew is implied to be a keronian... but i havent really watched those episodes) but i definitely dont doubt that they still have connections in the modern times. its a lot of fun to think about when it comes to interplanetary trade.

i always had just a biiit of beef with how keronians just settle in with earth foods and other things so casually, i really wish they were a bit more like irkens where plenty things that are ordinary to use pose harm to them. but also kg doesnt have the same gross aspect as iz does so i can understand why they didnt do that. no keroro getting horrid burns from baloney for me....

but oh my god i ran my mouth off. tdlr; i need to draw more frog food, which is mostly bugs, also yes they eat earth stuff and earth import sounds cool

[dreamtydraw]

could we hear some more abt darcy and qiu's dynamic :)?

*inhale*

*exhale*

SO LET ME START ! Thanks you so much for asking

Darcie isn’t directly friend with qiu at first. He’s more of her sibling’s friend who turns out to be the neighboor. When they interact in step 1 is because Valentin brought his sister or because it’s a small town and they are bond to run into each other.

They both share ballet class for a few year but Darcie drop out because she’s clumsy and don’t like being in front of other.

Darcie start to develop a small crush like all the kids out here because Qiu is that one nice popular kid that everyone gets to like at some point.

It’s only between step 2 and 3 that you can start to see that crush stop being one sided. Darcie is more confident and hang more with more people, which includes qiu, it helps their relationship develop further. As Automn gets to know her more and see her more confident about herself, a small crush on that one quiet girl who lives nearby happend. It’s a neighboor, to friend to lover.

They are a duo that is pinning HARD and you know who suffers from it ? Everyone around them, mainly Tamarack and Valentin who gets to see them separately freak out and gush about their crush, holding back tear or laughter about this situation. Darcie brushed her feeling off as just them being good friends and Qiu search for the good moment.

They are CRINGE, mainly Darcie-

She came out of a twilight and wattpad phase, she loose her sleeps on Ao3 and some of her favorites fics are just self insert shipping with characters that remind her of Qiu. She’s down BAD, she get easily flustered, try to act smooth and regret it right after by punching the ground with her tears and fist-

Thing is they have a sort of easygoing type of relationship between them due to having grown around each other. For qiu Darcie is one of his best friend’s sister. They spent some birthday together, hang around, messed a bit, friendly flirted, all funs and giggles until the fear of romantic intimacy kicked in. They don’t even realize they are on date when they are at one because it just feels casual. Like sure, they are hanging just the two of them at the dinner by themself- but it’s a friend thing of course ! And they go do some errands just together as friends ! Same for some ballads, maybe going to the lake, maybe hiking and talking about life, sleeping at each other’s house when tamarack and valentin are being lovebirds you know- no romantic gestures here- riiiiiiight ?

They are praticaly doing mondain couple stuff like dumbasses

Some small scenarios i have :

- Darcie loves coffee flavored things, mainly candies. She would probably give some to qiu if she has some on her which result in sometimes qiu having pockets with candies they forgot to eat that he gives as small present for her.

-Ahaha i stole your drink flirty flirt ehehe- it was full of milk shit-

-nail polish scene at a sleepover.

-talking about sleepover, them taking breakfast together in the morning because the last’s house is probably an open bar for the two neighboors before going to school.

-Qiu trying to hold back on making fun of Darcie’s poor sport aptitudes, failing and both of them laughing « woah you suck at running »

-Darcie remembering Qiu’s usual orders for food or drinks and Qiu secretly writting down her order to try to do the same, but always loosing it.

-He made her own little note of welcolme to the neighborhood because she wasn’t there the first day he met valentin. She kept it somwhere in a treasure box.

-Darcie taking her hearing aid to let qiu vent without feeling pressured to tell her everything and qiu taking this opportunity to rehearse a possible confession with her.

-competitive wii sports afternoon.

-Small hc that goes also for Tamarack, but when Darcie started to become hard of hearing he starter to learn some basic signs languages and was proud of it. Probably picked back on learning it during high school.

-Giving a ridding back home, you know when someone is standing on the bike while the other ride ?

-Matching piercing yay

[jaxxwrites4you]

Baking Together - Rus (BHC Swapfell Papyrus) x Reader

When Rus had requested your help in the kitchen you had been curious, but had told him you were happy to do whatever he needed. What you hadn’t expected was to find him with two failed batches of maple bars already on the counter. He looked up sheepishly when you walked in and then looked down at the sad piles of doughnut dough.

“I, uh, tried to get started before you got here.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck, “It… went about as well as it normally does.”

You looked over the failed doughnuts and chuckled softly, “I can see. They do look better than last time though!”

“You don’t have to be nice about it, gingersnap.” Rus said, although his smile was more relaxed, “I know they’re still not edible.”

You smiled and walked over, starting to clear off space on the counter, “That’s okay, we’ll make the next batch together, okay?”

He nodded and let you take the lead in making the next batch of dough, listening intently as you explained every step and why things were done in a certain order. It took several hours and Rus’ attention strayed every so often and you’d have to gently bring him back to it. Overall the third batch came out better, much more donut shaped if nothing else. The two of you got a little messy when putting the glaze on, but sticky messes aside, there were twelve decently shaped maple donuts by the end of your little baking fiasco.

You smiled up at him and motioned for him to give you his hands, gently cleaning them off with a warm washrag. He hummed happily as you did, eyeing the plate of sweets.

“We get to eat them now, right?” He asked, the eagerness in his voice all too obvious to you. 

You laughed again, letting go of his hands, “Yes, now we get to eat them.”

Rus looked like a kid in the candy store, waiting for you to be ready to try one with him. Once you both had a donut in hand, then he took the first bite, making a happy noise as he enjoyed his sweet treat. You tried your own and made a small, surprised noise. It was better than you’d expected, although the maple was a tad sweeter than you might like. Your boyfriend, however, was entirely too pleased with it, as he bit into his third donut.

“Safe to say you like this batch?” You asked him, smiling as you watched the purple rush across his cheeks. 

He swallowed the bite he’d just taken and gave you a small, embarrassed smile, “Ah, yeah. These are really good. N-not quite as good as that place downtown, but still tasty.”

You just laughed softly, watching as he continued to inhale the donuts, like his life depended on it. He’d admitted to you some time after you started dating, that he kept trying to make the donuts because they were his favorite sweet and he wanted to be able to make them himself, instead of buying them. You’d told him that if he ever wanted help, you’d be there and you were glad you had offered back then. It was worth it to see him so happy.

[americanwh0resstuff]

-Don’t pretend you don’t like it -

Blaine DeBeers

Blaine Debeers x reader oneshot

Thinking of making this into a full collection of oneshots

Best playlist:

Word count: 1,498

❤️‍🔥 smut with backstory

⚠️TW⚠️

Kidnapping, CNC (reader acts like they don’t like it, spoiler alert, they do), daddy kink, master kink, ownership, rough sex, vaginal sex, zombie reader…

-Don’t pretend you don’t like it-

I feel like I’ve been trapped in this bar for weeks, when really it’s probably only been a few days, not like I could tell, with the limited sunlight through the small basement windows.

The only “human” interaction I’ve had has been another poor girl named Candy, I guess it’s not her real name, but in Seattle, you can never really tell, some guy called Don E, who will correct you if you call him Donny, and of course, the one who caused all this, Blaine.

Crazy how one minute you can drunkly stumble into a hot and upcoming bar with your new roommate and the next you’re locked up in said bar, oh and now you’re a zombie. Not exactly how I pictured my first night out in the big city. I’d heard crazy rumours about supposed zombies roaming the streets of Seattle, but as a newbie in town, I guessed it was just people’s way of playing some sick joke to scare me.

I don’t have much memory of the night I got turned, only that I was ordering a round of shots for me and my new group of friends when a tall, blond guy, who claimed to be the owner or the club, told me it was on the house, we got to talking and the next thing I know I wake up on a small leather couch across from a desk, white streaks in my hair, and an uncomfortable hunger in my gut. Blaine then introduced himself, told me I was now a zombie, he claimed he didn’t mean to scratch me, it was a slip of his nails when I suddenly pulled my hand away from his grasp when my roommate told me it was time to leave.

I wasn’t sure I believed him, but I supposed I didn’t have much choice, the doors have been locked ever since, I’ve tried escaping with the crowds at night, but the large bouncers would always hold me back, returning me to Blaine in his office, where he’d punish me in, well, unorthodox ways.

So here I am, nursing my old fashioned, extra hot, while Don E hammers on about his new business idea,

“Brains on planes! Think about it! We get out hyper rich clientele to choose a brain, and we fly it over to their fancy ass private islands.”

I rolled my eyes and went back to staring at my drink, slowly stirring it with the small red straw, about to take another sip when-

“Y/n, my office. Now.”

Blaine

I sighed at the sound of his voice, don’t get me wrong, he’s very attractive, his looks, his demeanour, yet I was still salty about the whole zombie thing, naturally. Still, I complied and made my way into the back room, drink in hand.

“Look, I know you can’t help it, but at least try to look happy, it’s a real downer, not to mention bad for business.” He teased, voice stern and menacing, looking me up and down as I sat in the chair across from his desk

“I’d be a bit happier if you’d let me go.” I tried my best to be assertive, even though I knew it pushed his buttons.

“You know, you should be a lot nicer to me! You’ve got a warm bed to sleep in, all the brains you can eat, and the best part… you get to spend all your time with dear, old, me.” He strung out those last few words, taking a step towards me each time.

His hand landed on my cheek, softly caressing it before firmly gripping my chin

“What to do with you… actually, I have an idea.”

He led me to his chair, pulling me down on his lap, one hand stroking my lower back before tightly gripping my waist, other hand playing with the hem of my dress. “Such a lucky girl, yet so ungrateful.” I felt his hand tangle in my hair before starkly pulling it, making me look at him. I wanted to spit back some snarky retort, but I restrained myself, I knew what was coming.

“Off, now.” He motioned towards my clothing, it wasn’t much, just my now wrinkled black party dress, worn from wearing it practically every day since I entered this god forsaken bar. I reluctantly stood up and pulled the fabric over my head, leaving me in just my lace panties.

“You really are a sight for sore eyes, Princess.”

I couldn’t help but blush at his pet-name, swiftly looking down before he could notice.

I felt his strong hands run down my shoulders, to my wrists, my hands, giving them a sweet yet firm grip before spinning me round and pushing my face down onto the hardwood desk, one hand pinning my wrists to my lower back while the other explored my bare torso, then to my thighs.

“Let me put a smile on your face.”

I whimpered as I heard the familiar sound of his belt unbuckling, and then him adjusting his tight black jeans. His hand then returned to my thighs, massaging and gripping them as he made his way from one leg to the other , then he pulled away, only to return with a harsh slap to my ass. I jerked from the shock and bit my lip to hide my moans. He wasn’t gonna break me that easy.

His fingers then found their way to the waistband of my underwear, pulling them down and letting them drop to my ankles, he then ghosted his fingers over my cunt, softly running a digit through my folds.

“Show daddy what a good girl you are.”

I felt his hard-on press against my skin before quickly slamming into me. I yelped in pain and tensed up.

“Easy baby, daddy’s got you” he feigned sympathy, holding still for just a second before starting up and a brutal pace, pulling out almost entirely before harshly entering me once again.

I could feel the skin on my lip break, the metallic taste of blood dotting my tongue as I held back my screams and moans, only stifled noises coming out. I wasn’t gonna give him the satisfaction of knowing how I enjoyed feeling him inside of me, how I loved when he fucked me like this, how I spent every minute of the day thinking about his cock filling my insides.

He shamelessly grunted and groaned with every thrust, throwing in curse words and whimpers of my name every time I let a cry escape.

“Come on baby, don’t pretend you don’t like it.” He moaned while pulling my head up by my hair. My mouth betrayed me, a strained “F-fuck!” Making its way out as he hit just the right spot. He released his grip making me fall back down with a thud.

“That’s it baby, tell daddy how good he makes you feel.” Pride taking over his voice. “You wanna cum for me?” I started shaking me head. “N-no no I-“ I interrupted myself with a loud moan when his free hand snaked its way down to my clit, my body going tense as I held back my orgasm.

He pulled out and I whimpered at the empty feeling.

“Oh you’re gonna cum for me princess, and I want to see your face when you do.” He turned me back around and laid me down on the desk in what felt like a millisecond before pushing his length into me once again, resuming his brutal yet intoxicating pace.

This time I made no attempt at holding back my screams, moaning with every rough movement he made.

His hands found their way to my breasts, giving them a squeeze before moving them down to my hips, grasping them so hard I was sure he’d leave bruises, which I’d later admire in the dirty bathroom mirrors.

“Shit, y/n, such a dirty whore for me, only for me…” he trailed off as he threw his head back, my walls tightening around him as my moans became higher pitched and my hand desperately grasped for something to ground me.

Fireworks exploded behind my eyes and my body went limp as I finally let go, screaming his name, back arching.

A few moments later, Blaine came too, pushing my legs up to my chest as he leaned over me, sweat dripping from his forehead.

After a minute or two of catching our breath, he pulled out.

“That’s my girl.”

I panted softly, staring at the ceiling as I felt two fingers trial towards my pussy, pushing the leaking cum back in before bringing his fingers up to my lips, parting them before making me suck his digits clean.

He then pulled my face towards his, a biting and sloppy kiss landing on my lips.

He pulled up his pants and adjusted his button up shirt.

“Clean this up-“ he motioned towards his desk.

“Can’t I at least go for a smoke first?”

“Good idea, I’ll come with you- after you clean up the mess you made.”

[pandakatt]

Random ROTTMNT Bros Headcanons

First time posting in a looong time. Fk it I need a creative outlet.

✧✧✧✧

RAPH

Huge sweet tooth. Fave thing is chocolate. I picture him always reaching for milk chocolate or a cookies and cream bar

Prefers crunchy snacks

A moka type of guy.

Needs to have something sweet after dinner or else he feels like the day isn't over

Loves Sanrio characters. Hello Kitty, My Melody and Cinnamonroll are his favorites

Cracks his knuckles and neck constantly. Sounds super loud and concerning ("dude you ok?" Is usually what he hears after)

Gives the tightest most secure hugs

Finds ASMR relaxing but dislikes slime videos

Drinks A LOT of water and is reminding his brothers (mostly Donnie and Mikey) to stay hydrated

LEO

Likes chewy candy and lollipops. Go-to candy is Starbursts

Iced caramel macchiato guy. Will try seasonal drinks as long as they're iced. Only has hot drinks at night, it's like his little ritual

Takes forever to get ready for the night. Has a 10 step skincare routine that he is very diligent about

Has very rough but pretty hands. No matter how much lotion he applies his skin remains a bit on the dry side

Has a beautiful voice when humming but when he actually tries to sing he screams. Not tone deaf, just has bad projection

Likes to build figurines and model cars

The walls on his room are completely covered by posters, drawings (by Mikey of course) and pictures. Not a lot of frames, prefers tape

Likes those reddit voiceover TikToks

Tosses around in his sleep a lot and often kicks his blankets off. Sleeps with his mouth open and wonders why his throat feels dry.

DONNIE

Likes sour candy and salty snacks. Go-to's are those Airheads rainbow strips and Sour cream and onion chips.

His usual coffee order is a cold brew. Likes clean and intense flavors and NEEEDS his caffeine. Very little to no sugar, might add milk if he's in a particularly good mood.

Picky eater except when he cooks for himself. Knows what he likes and doesn't trust anyone else to make food exactly how he wants it (maybe will let Mikey cook for him but will micromanage him. Mikey hates it but complies most of the time)

Cannot eat spicy things at all. Ever so often he tries to see if he likes it he never does

Chews a lot of gum

Won't drink water unless it's flavored somehow and ICE COLD. Otherwise he feels like he can taste it and gets grossed out.

His hands are very nimble but covered in small cuts. Bites his nails and picks at his skin when very stressed

Likes soggy fries

MIKEY

Loves gummy candy and chocolate with add ins. Never can decide on what snack to have so he must get a sweet, a salty and a chocolate one, eats a bit of everything.

Licks the powder off Takis and spits out the chip. Prefers popcorn to chips.

Dislikes coffee. Prefers to have soda, likes how the carbonation feels in his mouth. Never passes on a good milkshake

Always has paint under his nails and on his face, not because he doesn't wash but because he uses it constantly.

Most of the things he owns are covered in stickers

His phone screen is cracked but visible. Destroys headphones and has to replace them frequently

His room is the messiest but somehow never misplaces things. Has those "mom powers" where he finds lost things without even looking

Loves cooking, hates doing the dishes. When it's his turn to cook for the fam, always asks one of his brothers to "help" him but he only makes them clean after him. Usually it's Raph.

Snorts and wheezes when he laughs

Collects gachapon miniatures and pins

Fave art medium to use is spray and acrilic paint. Least favorite is colored pencils and watercolor

✧✧✧✧

I have so many more of these headcanons. In the last month Rise has been occupying the majority of my brain and I need other people to know about my hyperfixation.

Also if I made any spelling/grammar errors I appreciate corrections! English is not my first language and sometimes my brain glitches

Hope you enjoyed and let me know if you want any more ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡