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#cooking as love language
triflingthing · 1 year
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your local veggie harlot at it again
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ruthless-rainbow · 1 year
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One of my favorite silly little hcs for Theo is that he's an awesome cook. Once he is finally settled somewhere safe and comfortable, he begins to really find his way in the kitchen and cooking for others becomes one of his love languages. He gets super invested in Chopped and Iron Chef. Some would say he gets a little too invested. (*Cough*Liam*Cough* 😅)
He invites the pack over for dinner often and makes sure they leave with full bellies and warm happy scents. Stiles often makes the joke that Theo is simply trying to poison them all and Liam threatens his life.
His favorite person to cook for is Liam, though. He sneaks out of bed early every now and again to make his favorite person breakfast in bed. Makes special dinners for celebrations and anniversaries.  Experiments with new more complicated recipes and Liam is ALWAYS happy to volunteer to be Theo's guinea pig.
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2toplibrary · 1 year
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break the habit (break it fast) by Kazymyr
(T, 3.6K, 1/1)
"What the hell?!" Bakugou yells as he storms into the kitchen. It seems a little dramatic but that tracks with Shouto's expectations of him. Overly critical. Unnecessarily loud. He looks over and Bakugou is coughing into his elbow, waving smoke out of the air and oh. Shout hadn't realized how smokey it had gotten. The smoke is darker than it was a second ago. Still, you'd think of all people, he'd be used to a little smoke.
Sometimes friends make up for the failures of our parents.
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steddieas-shegoes · 6 months
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Mama Munson cannot cook.
She cannot bake.
She can barely make a grilled cheese without burning it.
But Wayne can cook.
He can bake.
He makes grilled cheese with tomatoes and garlic butter.
Eddie is raised with Wayne’s superior cooking and baking skills, and until he’s a teenager and goes to other friend’s houses, thinks that the “men of the family” are responsible for cooking and baking.
Wayne’s gotten aprons, and cooking utensils, and baking pans for Christmas and his birthday as long as Eddie’s lived with him.
Up until he’s too old according to his friends, he helps him in the kitchen.
Mama Munson watches the shift, but her and Wayne agree not to push.
They watch his diet do what most teenage boy diets do: turn to cereal and sandwiches at all hours of the day and night, some pizza sprinkled in when money allows.
Wayne still cooks, but his shifts turn into overtime hours, and then doubles, and he spends most of his time at home sleeping.
Eddie doesn’t seem to care, or at least not visibly.
His lunchbox is never stuffed with any food anyway, his mama isn’t dumb enough to not notice what he’s doing after school two or three days a week.
And then she almost loses him because the town turns upside down, almost literally, and everyone shuns them even more than they already did.
Not Steve Harrington, though.
He shows up every day after his volunteer shift with a grocery bag or two of fresh produce and jars and boxes and gets busy cooking. Nothing is ever that lavish, but there’s always a pop of flavors coming through even in the most simple dish.
She pretends she doesn’t see the way Eddie’s eyes widen after the first bite of whatever dish Steve’s made, reminiscent of when Wayne used to be able to cook for them almost every night. She pretends not to see the way Steve watches, waits for Eddie to show he likes it, relaxing into his chair and taking his own bite only after Eddie takes a second one.
She looks at Wayne, who’s pretending the same thing, but not hiding it well behind a knowing smirk.
Eddie starts spending more time in the kitchen with Steve, helping cut up vegetables and stirring as they talk, like he did with Wayne when he was younger.
Wayne goes back to work, but Steve always has a lunch packed for him with the leftovers so he doesn’t feel completely left out, blushes when Wayne hugs him on his way out the door. Eddie watches with a fond smile, and Mama Munson doesn’t say anything even though she should.
She’s seen what happens to boys who like straight boys firsthand, can’t be completely certain Steve’s a safe bet yet, even with the looks he throws and the care he gives. She thinks maybe he’s just a nice kid who loves his people.
But she wakes up one morning to whispering in the kitchen, and she knows Wayne isn’t home yet from his shift, so it has to be Eddie and someone else.
She sneaks out of her bedroom to see Eddie sitting on the counter, sweatpants on without a shirt, and Steve standing between his legs, cupping his face in his hands.
She’s certain that Steve left last night after she went to bed, she heard the front door open and close. But she looks closer and sees Steve’s wearing one of Eddie’s band shirts and the Christmas flannel pants Eddie got last year in his stocking.
So Steve didn’t leave, maybe wouldn’t leave ever if she was reading their faces right.
She decided not to interrupt them, sneaking back into her room and getting ready for work.
There’d be plenty of time for her to question Eddie about it, about Steve, about his feelings and if he was happy.
When she did finally go out to the kitchen, Steve was frying bacon and flipping an omelet in a pan while Eddie was sipping on a cup of coffee.
She kissed the top of Eddie’s head, then pulled Steve down to her level so she could kiss the top of his.
“Guess it’s about time we try your breakfast since you’ve been spoilin’ us with dinner for so long.”
Steve and Eddie’s matching red faces told her everything she needed to know.
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stagefoureddiediaz · 2 months
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Buck having a cooking magazine on his table is my new favourite Bucks apartment thing!!
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logicalbookthief · 1 year
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The way we get this line:
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And after that Kazuki struggles the entire episode with feeling like he doesn’t deserve to be happy. Then at the end—
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We get Rei & Miri actively trying to make him happy with the French toast.
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smittenskitten · 1 year
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(+) Cooking for beloved
Jack o' Frost (2023) My Tooth Your Love (2022) Roommates of Poongduck 304 (2022) Girlfriend Project Day 1 (2022) Sleep With Me (2022) Fukou-kun wa Kiss Suru Shikanai! (2022) Cutie Pie (2022) 30-sai made Dotei Da to Mahotsukai ni Nareru rashii (2020) Kinou Nani Tabeta? (2019) Ossan's Love (2018)
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pocketramblr · 5 months
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you know im thinking. im thinking maybe Yoichi wasn't even that into captain hero as an adult, but AfO kept bringing LITERALLY every conversation back to that because he decided to Be The Demon Lord and so Yoichi like, can't get an argument in unless he uses the same material so he's like 'oh my god i haven't even thought about that comic in ten years but even i know the bad guy didn't win. you should not be basing you whole identity, business model, and world destruction plan on your five-second impression of a comic book bad guy who didn't even win! also you shouldn't kill people!'
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iwikitty · 21 days
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maaxverstappen · 1 month
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Mandy… we must discuss max/oscar… what is the lore… what are the notes…. Im clocked in ma’am im ready to be deluded — wiz
ok so i called myself the unofficial head of this ship (lol) but actually looking through the tumblr tag i must denounce myself and crown @nyoomfruits instead bc she has been on it from day 1
max and oscar are just so similar i think they get each other!! they're both very down to earth and very focussed on the job. both of them hailed as extraordinary in lower formulas and quickly making their way up (ofc max's was very quick and oscar had his year out, but still all things considered). i feel like a lot of it is max being surprised about oscar, i dont think he expected that deadpan energy/serious but enjoying it/quick wit from him and now hes like oh i see, i get it. maybe also helps how much lando gets along with oscar and max obvs likes lando. trusts his opinion.
max praising oscar when he hardly ever praises anyone like this
oscar looking up at max with awe and eagerness (its a still from a video but let me have this)
this tho!!! max never sits on the floor but sees oscar doing it so joins him?! for no reason?! lando was in the chair it wouldve been so easy to sit next to him (as he then does later) "thank you mercedes" and then max's fond laugh and almost surprise. surprise that oscar can be witty like that!! max didnt expect it oscar turning around to watch the screen and being too late. max laughing at him, checking to see if lando is laughing too. if it isnt weird that max is laughing at oscar's joke/misfortune. max then doubling down and voicing what happened as if they didnt all just witness it right there.
like i said on the oscar discord too, i think oscar would indulge max's maxplaining!! he enables it and is like "Huh, I never thought about it like that. Have you considered that [x]" and then suddenly its 11pm and everyone else has left the paddock before they even look up from their convo
and
they would absolutely bicker over Everything but neither would really perceive it as bickering. thats just how they are
also they both have cat energy so
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meownotgood · 17 days
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the bento aki makes every morning for your lunch after you get married
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monpalace · 1 year
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ships .. (ocarina of time/majora's mask) link/reader, fierce deity/reader.
content .. the boys (separately) with a reader who feeds them well, and the fruits of their loving labor.
warnings .. unedited. no pronouns used (you/your). reader is implied to have more meat on their bones (vaguely). reader is in their housespouse era and they aren't even married (legally). non-graphic vomit and forgetting to eat mentioned (link). link and fierce deity are taller than reader. fierce deity is named aram for writings sake. reader is implied to be a god of sorts (fierce deity). fierce deity is literally my oc at this point.
notes .. my schnookums thought they could have big cheeks and get away from me? my cutie patooties thought that i wouldn't write about them eating right? my pookie bears thought that i wouldn't fulfill my duties as their #1? my baby faced sweethearts thought i wouldn't spend 2hrs looking for pictures like those? my favorite white boys? my honeybuns? my hollywood stars? my sugarpies?
i'll eat them. omnom
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LINK has always been rather thin. That was especially the case when he was a child. Something about a Kokiri child's diet not fitting what a Hylian needed always kept him frail.
When you both were children, he had quickly gotten used to you plucking his arm when it was idle to compare his lack of fat to your surplus.
(He never minded. He always looked forward to being reminded why he put one foot in front of the other every day during his fight against Ganon, or repeated cycle after cycle when it came to Majora.)
(Funnily enough, you had always made fun of him for being shorter than you as a child as well. You always mentioned he needed to drink more milk and eat more cuccos so he'd one day pass you.)
It was when you were able to cook more than simple meals and wouldn't risk burning down your cottage that you would invite (force) Link over more often than you already have.
Link had always tried to limit his visits to when he absolutely needed to. Free food, bed, shelter, care, supplies, clothes, bathes (the list was endless), and whatnot were always appreciated, but he never wanted to become to comfortable lest he wake up one day (or night. Or afternoon. His internal clock was always ruined when it came to sleeping at your cabin) and decide not return to the world outside.
He does his best to turn down any seconds, or thirds, or fourths, or fifths, and so on you may offer him when he does stay long enough for you to finish whatever extravagant meal you made just for him.
Past experiences often make him sick (with trauma or physically) and result in him vomiting his food, but there's always more from you to replace what he had just eaten and the meal before (if he remembered to eat it).
What he can't finish at the table (or on the sofa, or in the bed), he takes with him when he leaves. Link is respectful in all meanings of the word and hates to leave anything to waste.
When it comes to thanks, he either finds ways to help around your cottage or brings back items from new regions for you to cook. Whether it be repairing the busted bathroom door you've been complaining about before fixing your water faucet so the pressure is what you want it to be, or bringing back a spice the Gorons specialize in you've mentioned wanting to try, Link typically feels his gifts fall lackluster when compared to your treatment of him.
(He trusts your skill and creativity enough to know you won't poison him on accident. He never brings back any recipes or instructions either if it's not a dangerous material.)
(He's always excited to try whatever new dish you've concocted, so his only condition is that you wait for his return to cook whatever it is he brought you. "A celebration, of sorts," he calls it.)
A look in a lone puddle had told him his cheeks had gotten fatter. He supposes he now understands why he was refused entry into one of the pubs when he had to retrieve Malon and Cremia's uncle.
He had noticed that the details of his arms were less visible through his shirts when a Goron had pinched one,— not in the same way you did when you were younger— he had mentioned that he had an amount of muscle and fat to be proud of before asking him to join a tournament. Any attempts prior to were quickly shut down.
During a day of horseback archery with the Gerudo, the sweltering sun had gotten to him enough that he had to remove his tunic and the shirt underneath to feel some sort of relief. One of the women who were training him took a look at his stomach and nodded approvingly, mentioning that he should praise his soon-to-be spouse for feeding him so well.
The last nail in the coffin came when he was riding Epona into Castle Town. His tunic felt uncomfortably small and his tights (curse those damned tights) felt as thought they were stretched more across the expanse of his thighs than they usually were.
He's back in your cottage when he finally vocalizes his thoughts, preferring you to any other tailor or seamstress in the country. "I've gotten to big for my clothes," he either sighs or signs to you while eating. His gaze held a thousand yards in them, idly watching his clothes move with the wind.
The tunic, hat, tights, boots hang outside the window on a string connected to your shed. They had to be washed after a (admittedly well-planned— even if they don't think) ambush by a hoard of chu-chus.
You throw a hazy look to them before returning to the bowl you were tirelessly mixing. You were making dinner, he thinks, or maybe it was in preparation for the big breakfast you were making with the variety of bread from the Gerudo he brought back.
You'd already given him a large snack earlier.
The thought makes him look down at the plate in his lap. Every spot of it was filled and piled with bread, and eggs, and meats, and jams. He couldn't see the white bottom of it even as he pushed and prodded around.
He takes a bite of it gratefully.
"I saw you before you left not even three days ago. You fit everything fine enough to me." At some point you had stopped stirring and held the bowl out to him. Link grabs something off the plate and dips it in without a thought, eating it before responding with a hum of approval. "I can make adjustments to then, if you'd like."
You leave the bowl with him before attending to something on the stove.
"Please," he responds, halfway through another bite of the (what he now recognized as) Gerudo bread and cocoa dip you had made. "Different pants would be nice, though. It'd be a nice excuse to finally get rid of those tights." Both tasted sweet by themselves, he realized, but left a calmer aftertaste that he'd like to savor.
"You've always hated the tights," you hum in response, moving from the stove to the coolers that he'd built you after bringing you a large fish that only lived in Zora's Domain. "What would you want to move on to now? Leggings? Shorts?"
Link watches you remove a pitcher from one of the coolers. He isn't sure how long it's been in there (he doesn't even remember watching you make it), but he assumes you took some ice out so the pink liquid wouldn't freeze over into complete ice.
He watches you try to take a cup from one of the cupboards, watching you struggle to grab his favorite one from the higher shelves.
He stands from the chair sat just outside the kitchen (he liked to watch you cook when you had the time), placing the bowl and plate on one of the many cleared counters (you liked to clean as you worked), and grabs the cup for you.
Link lowers his head with his hand when he hands the cup off, head resting upon the crown of yours as he watches you pour the pink liquid into it, idle arms wrapping around your waist as he makes some slick comment about eating enough milk and cuccos for your liking.
You don't elbow him in the stomach like you might have when you were younger and he doesn't hold the cup above your head teasingly like when he was younger to (— then again, he had to climb a counter to get it out of your reach.)
Instead, you wordlessly pass the cup back to him and he wordlessly drinks it despite not knowing what it was.
He likes it, as he does all your works, and notes how it was both sweet and sour. A taste that fills both his childhood need for sweet all the time and his older palate's need for other tastes.
Handing the cup back, Link tilts his head so he can press a kiss to your crown. "Anything you'd think I'd look good in," he finally responds, the flavor of the moment leaving a tooth-achingly sweet taste on his tongue.
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ARAM is often humbled in your abode.
He may have acted arrogant to others in his younger years and horrifyingly aloof now that he's a more seasoned god, but he never failed to (willingly) crumble to his knees when in your presence during either times of his life.
He had no need for the sustenance mortals require, prayers and whispers of his name were always good enough for him, but he'd kiss the ground you walk on if it meant you'd bless him with another food you've created (he already does).
Aram is the provider to your fire-lit home, an arrangement the two have been living by for as long as he can remember.
He is the sword to your shield. The arrow to your quiver. The moon to ever burning sun (which he did create for you, after all). The wound for your gauze. The life to your world— and one cannot live peacefully without the other.
Your food had quickly become an addiction to Aram. He'd eat as much as often as he could, giving little response to when questioned why he loves it so much.
("Because it comes from your hands," he once explained hours later when you were sleeping. "Your hands, that create all. That nourish all it touches and replenishes all that is extinct. I am your antithesis, and I must destroy that which I love."
(You never had the heart to ask again.)
He has enough sense to slow his eating around you. One concerned comment about him choking was enough for him to indulge in needless your wishes, but a question regarding its taste had him eating like a mortal.
His relationship with food prior to getting hooked onto yours was brief and filled with obligation. He never ate to feel full, only to make the people he was fighting with shut up and leave him out of whatever conversation they were having.
It never lingered in his stomach like a warm fireplace that others had described it as. It never made him warm and filled with love. It never gave him the energy he needed to keep fighting.
It just went through his digestive tract (why did he even have one?) and disappeared like an heavy smog finally dispersed by a strong gust of wind before he had to fight again.
When a war was over, you always came. You took the battle-shaken soldiers away when it was their time and healed their ailments if they were able to withstand everything. You went through war-stricken cities and set everything as they should have been. You feed and clothe and bandage and sew and reunite and Aram isn't sure why he lingered.
He's seen the effects of what you can do long after you've left. He knows of the good you're capable of doing just as much as he knows the bad he can cause.
He craves your touch when he sees it at its peak. He indulges himself when he sees it first-hand.
Aram understands what the soldiers mean when you beckon him closer and offer him food, uncaring of how he stands tall above all else.
The soup warms his insides. The flavor resides on his tongue hours after he's finished it. His energy, though far from depleted, had made him feel as though he were a youngling again.
He craves more.
The addiction to your presence and your food (and subsequently, you) had started then. It's an event he could easily recall when asked, one he would happily recount to you if you ever forgot where his devotion to you started.
Meeting after a war or battle had become frequent enough that he had finally learned your name; not some silly alias those who followed you often referred to you as. He felt like one of those lovesick children soldiers talk about, tripping over himself and his words.
He's curious to you, an admirer more than a stalker, fortunately. When he wasn't on the battlefront, he was always hovering around as you worked, busying his hands with whatever task you've given him after noticing his lack of mortality.
You treated him well; doing so even after the era of wars were long gone and he was seldom needed. You cared for him as though he were one of the many wounded soldiers with no family to return to once all was done and said— and to an extent, he was.
He's eating when you bring attention to his softer thigh.
You were reading to him, a romantic thriller that held as much of his attention that your captivating voice did. His gaze focused heavily on you, watching as you lick your lips after each page, how your eyes rake over the page to ensure the tone you speak the next sentence in is correct. He notes how you shift less often, how he doesn't have to move you further up his lap so you can lean against his stomach.
"It's not as painful to sit on you anymore." Aram doesn't think that line was in the book, but he doesn't mention it. It dawns that you were talking to him when you look up, using your finger as a bookmark as you closed the book around it. "Have you gained weight?"
He's a big man; it's a fact he's known since the beginning of his existence. He has large arms, muscles well know for how he snatched prey up to bring back to you. His height made it a simple feat to reach into the trees and capture any avian you wanted to experiment with that night. His legs that would stomp on any fish swimming downstream during a day at the lake you suggested.
He was sculpted by the Goddesses themselves. If they hadn't meant for his body to change along with his lifestyle, they wouldn't have designed him to dough.
(He'd never be ashamed in the fact either. He was contented knowing he had someone to dote over him constantly; a sentiment he had gained after recalling a conversation with wedded soldiers.)
(Also, the prospect of defacing what the Goddesses had long since disgraced was exciting, in a way.)
Aram doesn't look at himself, already well-acquainted with his body as his brow raises in amusement. "You feed me well, My Grace," he responds with a peck on your temple, "I would hope to become more comfortable for your pleasure." He refused to stop eating as he indulged you in conversation, the leg you sat on jumping once in place of his busy hands.
You hum that sweet, quiet hum of yours that Aram has come to associate with your contentedness (he aimed to hear to several tomes every day). Removing yourself from his lap, discarding the novel to the side as you raise your hands to cup his cheeks. "It suits you. You look healthy. Happy."
"Did I look ill before?"
You don't fluster as you might have like in your younger years. He's honored to have grown alongside you, reminiscent of the older couples you've both watched and escorted when he was still an active god.
The same filling feeling your food gives him fills his heart. The lingering sense of peace that he felt since meeting you dancing through his body when your thumbs rub the apples of his cheeks, the softest and fondest gaze anyone's ever given him in your eyes.
"No," you answer in a quiet voice only he'd be able to hear. "Never. You've always looked perfect."
And Aram has never been more thankful that he separated himself from the Goddesses as he preens under your touch. Never been more thankful that he lingered after the war was done. Never been more thankful that he had readjusted his psyche to more readily accept your gifts and affection.
He frees a hand to cradle to back of your head, a threat to all that aren't you, and brings you beneath his chin in a protective gesture. "As have you," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. "And as you always will be."
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whollyjoly · 10 days
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thinking about the date scene...and honestly i dont know which idea i love more cause like
the idea that buck is going all out and cooking for tommy (ESPECIALLY if he's like, just coming off shift) and tommy just smiling so softly cause like!! someone put the effort into doing something nice for him and maybe that doesnt happen all too often/hasnt really happened before, and it just absolutely staggers him how much this man actually wants to do nice things for him 🥹
BUT THEN ALSO
the idea of buck and tommy cooking together, moving around the space together with ease and such simple domesticity!! small touches as they reach around each other, buck having tommy sample the sauce to see how it tastes, maybe tommy makes the garlic bread and its a secret family recipe and when buck asks about it, tommy says hmm, maybe someday with the soft crinkley smile... 🥹🥹
i just!! cooking as a love language!!!
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call-me-strega · 16 days
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Mating Dances of Moths vs. Bats - Dead on MAYn 2024
Day 1 - Sunday the 19th - Late Upload
Trope | Courting Rituals, Word | Flickering, Situation | Dinner is interrupted by a rogue/gang fight, Dialogue | “Are they gone yet?”
Ao3 Link
~~~
Killer Moth wanted revenge. For too long he had been labeled a D-list villain who was taken out by a rookie Batgirl. For too long had he been mocked and scorned by the villain community. Well no more! With the technology he had paid someone to developed he would show them all why they should fear The Killer Moth!
~
Large moths the size of cows are flying through Gotham. They flit through the air latching onto buildings, shaking in strange patterns, and causing property damage. They zoomed over crowds of people causing mass panic and hysteria. And that's not to mention the falling moth excrement. Above the city, ineffectively trying to control them, stood Killer Moth.
"Come- no this way! Listen! Mothew no! No! No attacking the building I'm on! Bad moth! Arrrgh!"
In hindsight, he really should have trained the moths before he jumbo-sized them.
The Bats were quickly on the scene Red Robin, Spoiler, and Robin worked on handling the moths while Batman worked with Oracle to take down Killer Moth.
The Moth Control team was quick to get on the case. However, RR noticed a pattern in the moths' behavior. They seemed more interested in their fellow moths than in carrying out any orders given by a D-list villain. Upon sharing his observations, Robin corroborated that the behavior the moths were exhibiting seemed to be similar to a number of courtship rituals.
Now aware that the moths were still following their instincts the team hatched a plan to deal with them. Noticing that bright lights seemed to distract them from mating, they began using their Bat-flashlights and even the Bat-signal to attract them. They were able to make some progress but were quickly overwhelmed by the sheer number of moths wreaking havoc across the city.
As Red Robin and Robin wrangled a wriggly moth, Spoiler contacted Oracle requesting backup. Oracle reached out to Signal, whose light powers would be a great help, and Red Hood, whose long-range weapons would come in handy. Even though she was reluctant to bother them when they were currently off-duty she knew the ground team needed the help.
~
Jason was in the apartment he shared with his boyfriend Danny when he got a call from Oracle.
He and Danny had been prepping to make homemade chilidogs for dinner, cooking together as almost a mini date night. They were listening to music maneuvering around each other synchronized in a dance of controlled chaos. Danny ducked from where he was covering up homemade buns and resting pie dough Jason had made earlier in the day so that Jason could pull something out of the spice cabinet over his head. Jason was starting on a fruit chaat he had tried in Pakistan, while Danny prepped some seasoned fries.
Danny held up his hand and Jason took it wordlessly spinning them around, switching their positions. Danny began skillfully cutting up some strawberries and rhubarb while Jason took his place seasoning the fries. They worked in peace, matching each other's pace, content to take their time. They had put the chili in the slow cooker about an hour ago and it'd take at least 4 more hours before it was ready, giving them plenty of time to prep sides and desserts.
Suddenly, a beeping was heard over the music, snapping Jason and Danny out of their flow. Jason shot Danny an apprehensive look, knowing that that sound came from his Bat-pager and he might get called out if they were contacting him on his off hours, but his boyfriend just smiled at him reassuringly.
" Go ahead and take that, I'll wrap up the fruit chaat and get started on the pie prep."
" Thanks, babe," Jason smiled back, cleaning off his hands and pressing a kiss to his temple. He left the kitchen to go answer the call in the other room. Danny set the fries to rest since they'd cook them fresh when the chili was done and started topping the chaat with sliced dates and chopped walnuts, before sprinkling it with lemon juice. Then he moved on to the pie filling, combining strawberry and rhubarb in a large bowl. Even from the other room, he could Jason talking to someone on the phone. Then came a large groan and his boyfriend called out to him,
" Hey Danny, O called! She said she needs me to help play pest control! 'Parently Killer Moth thought he'd pull a Penguin and jumbo-size some moths to be his minions!"
Danny simply shook his head fondly and called back.
" It's okay Hun, you go handle the moths and I'll finish the prep. We can do the final steps together once your back."
" Thanks babe!"
And with that, Jason suited up to go out while Danny handled the rest of the dinner prep. He finished up the chaat and put the pie in the oven. While it baked he whipped up a batch of sweet tea and a quick coleslaw. By the time the pie was ready to come out of the oven he'd cleaned up most of the dishes as well.
Danny pulled out the pie and set it up to cool. It'd need at least three hours to cool according to the recipe and the chili would probably be done around the same time. It'd been about an hour since Jason left and he hadn't sent any texts meaning he was still occupied. A seed of worry grew in his chest. He glanced around the kitchen taking a look at the slow cooker timer before making his decision.
He could go help Jason and get home before the apartment potentially burned down.
'Everything will be fine' he thought before going ghost and taking off to find his boyfriend.
~
Jason was sick of these damn bugs.
After meeting up with the ground control team Jason got assigned to extermination duty since he was better suited for taking out long-range opponents with his guns. Spoiler refocused her effort to helping with civilian evac with Robin covering her back while he, Red Robin, and Signal split up and worked on attracting and taking out the moths.
'Coome oon! I've got something sweet waiting for me back home' Red Hood mentally complained as he shot down yet another moth. He was getting real sick of those things. The thought of his beautiful boyfriend waiting for him back home with a pretty pink pie and an equally pretty pink face flashed in his head, causing Hood to pause for a minute and turn a bit pink himself. That's when he heard the beat of wings an echo-y voice yelling, "Watch Out!"
Hood turned just in time to see a moth, coming at him from behind, demolished with a bright green energy blast. A frankly gross shower of moth guts rained down on him. He traced the origin of the blast to a floating figure with pale white hair and a smoking fist.
He grinned under his helmet, "Thanks babe! You here to come get me?"
Phantom rolled his eyes, bantering back, "Yeah, your exterminator gig was taking too long. I finished all the prep, baked the pie, and even had enough time to clean!"
He scoffed, continuing to pretend to scold his boyfriend as he jumped into combat with him.
"Besides it looks like you need the help. That moth would have taken you by surprise if I hadn't been there! What are you even thinking about in a battle to let yourself get distracted like that?"
" Oh~ you know, just your beautiful face babe!" He answered truthfully, albeit teasingly.
" Uh-huh, sure Hun."
And with that, they wordlessly threw themselves into the eclipse of moths.
In an echo of their synchrony from the kitchen earlier that night, the pair woven through the battle like a well-rehearsed dance. If Hood shot down two moths, Phantom covered his back and shot down a third. If Phantom herded the moths into a corner, Red Hood was there, lying in wait to take them out. If Phantom created a few glowing constructs to attract them, Hood would pick them off one by one. If Hood managed to get his hands on a flamethrower, Phantom made sure to ice any stay embers that could start a fire.
And just as it felt like they made a dent, another swarm took their place.
" MAN AM I GETTING SICK OF THESE THINGS!" Hood complained as his flamethrower ran out of juice. "There's gotta be a more efficient way to get rid of these!"
"Agreed!" Phantom nodded, shooting another moth that was latched onto a storefront. As moth guts splattered over the window, Phantom happened to catch sight of a DVD cover that sparked an idea for him.
" Hey Hood! You ever watch Wreck-it Ralph as a kid?"
" Think so! Why?"
" You remember how they took out all those creepy bug things at the end of the movie!?"
"Yeah, why!"
" I have an idea!"
" Wait!"
Jason turned franticly to see Phantom flying up above the city. He lifted his arms over his head and formed a large sustained ectoblast into the sky like the beacon in Wreck-it Ralph, basically making a giant an ecto-powered bug zapper. In Hood ear the comms crackled to life.
" ~bzzzzt - What the heck is that! - bzzt~ " Red Robin yelled out over the comms.
" Relax, it's Phantom. He came to help a while ago and he's got an idea!" Red Hood replied trying to explain. "He's turning himself into a giant bug zapper!"
" ~bzzzzt - Well it's certainly effective - bzzt~ " Spoiler chimed in, watching as droves of moths flew right into the giant glowing beacon.
Hood made his way across the rooftops, trying to get closer to Phantom, taking out any of the distracted moths he could along the way. He saw hordes of moths making their way across the city towards Phantom. He could also pick out where the other Bats were trying to thin out the crowd.
A drop of sweat rolled down Phantom's face as help kept up the constant intensity of the prolonged blast. His shoulders began to ache from keeping them in an outstretched position. His eyes began to sting from the brightness of his energy. The smell of moths disintegrating burned in his nose. He kept going.
After what felt like years, but couldn't have been more than an hour tops, a voice called out,
"It's okay! You can release it now!"
And all the exhaustion he'd been fighting back flooded his system at once. The power from his hands begins flickering before it goes out. Wearily, he floats down, wobbling and falling into the security of his lover's arms. He tilts his head up and forces a tired smile.
" Are they gone yet?"
Hood pulls him close.
" Yeah baby, they're gone now. You can rest."
" Go check on the chili," is the last thing that comes out of his mouth before he passes out.
~
Danny wakes up to the smell of warm spices and the sound of sizzling oil. He groans, pushing himself out of bed. He find himself back in his apartment and realizes Jason must have brought him home. Rubbing his eyes, Danny makes his way to the kitchen. He finds the table set with all the food they prepped earlier and his boyfriend grilling hotdogs for the buns he has set out. Danny blinks the remaining tiredness from his eyes and stretches.
" I'm coming from behind," he warns his boyfriend as he approaches.
" You're good, babe" comes his reply.
" Thanks hun."
And with that, Danny wraps his arms around Jason's waist, plastering himself against Jason's back. He holds him for a few minutes while Jason finishes the hotdogs, simply enjoying the contact. He hears the grill turn off, and then Jason turns to take him in his arms. He presses Danny into his chest.
" Thanks for your help babe, but you had me worried at the end there Dee."
" I was just a bit tired, but I'm sorry for worrying you Jay."
Jason pulls back to smile at him, pressing a kiss to the top of his forehead.
" Its okay Dee. Now let's enjoy this dinner we made, I'm dying to get my hands on dessert!"
Danny laughs back at him. "That'll just have to wait Jay! Let's take our time and enjoy dinner, okay?"
"Okay babe," he replies, nuzzling into his boyfriend's hair. "Let's have dinner."
~
Hi guys, hoped you liked this! I'm running behind on my DeadonMAYn fics but I'll try to get them out as soon as I can. This is for Day 1. I made this needlessly harder on myself by trying to use all of the prompts but I think it turned out okay? Hopefully, I can deliver with the rest of the one-shots I've got planned. I love feedback so let me know what you thought!
Also just in case anyone's interested here's the strawberry-rhubarb pie recipe.
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mintjeru · 18 days
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daffodil: unequaled love, hope, "the sun shines when i'm with you" wisteria: never-ending love, devotion that transcends death
✨ turning fanweek ✨
day 2 flowers | sickfic | soulmate au
open for better quality | no reposts
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skyloftian-nutcase · 2 months
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It was a dull, rainy morning as Warriors made his way home. The shift had been fairly mundane, but the weather and being on his feet all night still left him exhausted.
His mind was a fog as he climbed the stairs to his apartment. Sometimes he tried to debrief on his walks home, but most times he couldn’t quite settle his thoughts on any one thing. Thankfully he didn’t have anything too terrible to debrief today.
It was silly to even think he needed such things. Nothing really bothered him these days. As frustrating as civilian healthcare could be, it was rarely traumatic in the way wartime nursing had been.
Maybe I am more pensive than I thought, he mused with a weak huff as he unlocked the door.
His mind snapped into focus as strange smells hit his nostrils before immediately registering them. Syrup, eggs, sausage, bacon, biscuits.
Furrowing his brow, Warriors slowly moved inside and went to the kitchen to find Wind in wrinkled pajamas, hair a hot mess, finishing up making an omelette.
“You’re up awfully early,” Wars noted.
Wind jumped a little, fumbling the omelette and nearly spilling it on the stove top, and then he turned to smile at his brother in all but blood. “I’m making breakfast!”
“I see that,” Wars acknowledged with a smile. “What’s the occasion? Aren’t classes later?”
Wind’s sleepy cheer sobered, and he waved the spatula like it was a baton. “Well, after meeting the old man’s wife, I decided that Time isn’t the only one who needs someone to take care of him. So I’ve decided to make breakfast for you when you get off work.”
Warriors stared at the teenager, lost for words. He… his chest warmed unexpectedly, throat thick with emotion.
“Don’t expect it every time,” Wind warned him a little halfheartedly. “I know for sure I can’t get up this early every time. But I figured when you finish a stretch—”
“That’s fine,” Warriors interrupted, biting his tongue as he still fought with emotions. Then he gave a genuine smile. “Thanks, kiddo.”
Wind’s smile in return was as bright as the sun, and he gave Warriors a tight hug.
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