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najia-cooks · 21 days

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[ID: Two plates of cookies, one oval and topped with powdered sugar, and the others shaped in rings; one cookie is broken in half to show a date filling; two glasses of coffee on a silver tray are in the background. End ID]

معمول فلسطيني / Ma’moul falastini (Palestinian semolina cookies)

Ma’moul (also transliterated “ma’amoul,” “maamoul” and “mamoul”) are sweet pastries made with semolina flour and stuffed with a date, walnut, or pistachio filling. The cookies are made tender and crumbly with the addition of fat in the form of olive oil, butter, or clarified butter (سمن, “samn”); delicate aromatics are added by some combination of fennel, aniseed, mahlab (محلب: ground cherry pits), mastic gum (مستكه, “mistīka”), and cinnamon.

“مَعْمُول” means “made,” “done,” “worked by hand,” or “excellently made” (it is the passive participle of the verb “عَمِلَ” “‘amila,” "to do, make, perform"). Presumably this is because each cookie is individually filled, sealed, and shaped by hand. Though patterned molds known as طوابع (“ṭawābi’,” “stamps”; singular طابع, “ṭābi’”) are sometimes used, the decorations on the surface of the cookies may also be applied by hand with the aid of a pair of small, specialized tongs (ملقط, “milqaṭ”).

Because of their laborious nature, ma’moul are usually made for feast days: they are served and shared for Eid, Easter, and Purim, a welcome reward after the Ramadan or Lenten fasts. For this reason, ma’moul are sometimes called “كَعْك العيد” (“ka’k al-’īd,” “holiday cakes”). Plates of the cookies, whether homemade or store-bought, are passed out and traded between neighbors in a practice that is part community-maintenance, part continuity of tradition, and part friendly competition. This indispensable symbol of celebration will be prepared by the women of a family even if a holiday falls around the time of a death, disaster, or war: Palestinian food writer Laila El-Haddad explains that "For years, we endured our situation by immersing ourselves in cooking, in our routines and the things we could control."

Other names for these cakes exist as well. Date ma’moul–the most common variety in Palestine–may be called كَعْك بعَجْوَة (“ka'k b'ajwa”), “cakes with date paste.” And one particular Palestinian variety of ma’moul, studded with sesame and nigella seeds and formed into a ring, are known as كَعْك أَسَاوِر‎ (“ka'k 'asāwir”), “bracelet cakes.” The thinner dough leads to a cookie that is crisp and brown on the outside, but gives way to a soft, chewy, sweet filling.

[ID: An extreme close-up on one ka'k al-aswar, broken open to show the date filling; ma'moul and a silver teapot are very out-of-focus in the background. End ID]

History

Various sources claim that ma’moul originated in Egypt, with their ancestor, كحك (kaḥk), appearing in illustrations on Pharaonic-era tombs and temples. The more specific of these claims usually refer to “temples in ancient Thebes and Memphis,” or more particularly to the vizier Rekhmire’s tomb in Thebes, as evidencing the creation of a pastry that is related to modern kahk. One writer attests that this tomb depicts “the servants mix[ing] pure honey with butter on the fire,” then “adding the flour by mixing until obtaining a dough easy to transform into forms” before the shaped cookies were “stuffed with raisins or dried dates and honey.” Another does not mention Rekhmire, but asserts that “18th-dynasty tombs” show “how honey is mixed with butter on fire, after which flour is added, turning the substance into an easily-molded dough. These pieces are then put on slate sheets and put in the oven; others are fried in oil and butter.”

Most of these details seem to be unfounded. Hilary Wilson, summarizing the state of current research on Rekhmire’s tomb, writes that the depicted pastries were delivered as an offering to the Treasury of the Temple of Amun; that they certainly contained ground tiger nuts; that they presumably contained wheat or durum flour, since ground tiger nuts alone would not produce the moldable dough illustrated; that the liquid added to this mixture to form the dough cannot be determined, since the inscription is damaged; that the cakes produced “are clearly triangular and, when cooked are flat enough to be stacked” (any appearance that they are pyramidal or conical being a quirk of ancient Egyptian drawing); that they were shallow-fried, not cooked in an oven; and that honey and dates are depicted at the far left of the scene, but their relationship to the pastries is unclear. There is no evidence of the honey being included in the dough, or the cookies being stuffed with dates; instead, Wilson speculates that “It appears that the cooks are preparing a syrup or puree of dates and honey. It is tempting to think that the cakes or pastries were served [...] with a generous portion of syrup poured over them.” Whether there is any direct lineage between these flat, fried pastries and the stuffed, molded, and baked kahk must also be a matter of speculation. [1]

Another origin claim points to ancient Mesopotamia. James David Audlin speculates that ma’moul are "possibly" the cousins of hamantaschen, both being descended from the molded "kamānu cakes that bore the image of [YHWH’s] goddess wife Inanna [also known as Ishtar or Astarte]" that were made in modern-day Syria. Other claims for Mesopotamia cite qullupu as the inspiration: these cakes are described in the contemporary record as wheat pastries filled with dates or raisins and baked. (Food historian Nawal Nasrallah writes that these cookies, which were offered to Ishtar for the new year festival in spring, may also be an origin point for modern Iraqi كليچة, "kleicha.")

The word "määmoul" had entered the English language as a type of Syrian farina cake by 1896.

In Palestine

From its earliest instantiations, Zionist settlement in Palestine was focused on building farming infrastructure from which Palestinians could be excluded: settlers, incentivized by foreign capital, aimed at creating a separate economy based around farms, agricultural schools, communal settlements, and research institutions that did not employ Arabs (though Arab labor and goods were never entirely cut out in practice).

Zionist agricultural institutes in Palestine had targeted the date as a desirable crop to be self-sufficient in, and a potentially profitable fruit for export, by the 1930s. Ben-Zion Israeli (בנציון ישראלי), Zionist settler and founder of the Kinneret training farm, spoke at a 1939 meeting of the Organization of Fruit Growers (ארגון מגדלי פירות) in the Nahalel (נהלל) agricultural settlement to discuss the future of date palms in the “land of Israel.” He discussed the different climate requirements of Egyptian, Iraqi, and Tunisian cultivars—and which among them seemed “destined” (נועדים) for the Jordan Valley and coastal plains—and laid out his plan to collect saplings from surrounding countries for planting despite their prohibitions against such exports.

In the typical mode of Zionist agriculture discourse, this speech dealt in concepts of cultivation as a means of coming into a predestined ownership over the land; eating food suited for the climate as a means of belonging in the land; and a return to Biblical history as a triumphant reclamation of the land from its supposed neglect and/or over-cultivation by Palestinian Arabs over the past 2,000 years. Israeli opened:

נסתכל לעברה של הארץ, אשר אנו רוצים להחיותה ולחדשה. היא השתבחה ב"שבעה מינים" ואלה עשוה אינטנסיבית וצפופת אוכלוסין. לא רק חיטה ושעורה, כי אם גם עצים הנותנים יבול גדול בעל ערך מזוני רב. בין העצים -- הזית [...] הגפן, התאנה והתמר. לשלושה מהם, לזית, לתאנה ולתמר חטאה התישבותנו שאין היא נאחזת בהם אחיזה ציםכר של ממש ואינה מפתחת אותם דים.

We will look to the past of the land [of Israel], which we want to revive and renew. It excelled in "seven species," and these flourished and became densely populated. Not only wheat and barley, but also trees that give a large and nutritious crop. Among the trees: the olive, [...] the vine, the fig and the date. For three of them, the olive, the fig and the date, it is the sin of our settlement that it does not hold on to them with a strong grip and does not develop them.

He continued to discuss the benefits of adopting the date—not then part of the diet of Jewish settlers—to “health and economy” (בריאות וכלכלה). Not only should the “land of Israel” become self-sufficient (no longer importing dates from Egypt and Iraq), but dates should be grown for export to Europe.

A beginning had already been made in the importation of about 8,000 date palm saplings over the past two decades, of which ¾ (according to Israeli) had been brought by Kibbutz Kinneret, and the remaining ¼ by the settlement department of the Zionist Commission for Palestine (ועד הצירים), by the Mandate government's agriculture department, and by people from Degania Bet kibbutz ('דגניה ב). The majority of these imports did not survive. More recently, 1000 smuggled saplings had been planted in Rachel’s Park (גן רחל), in a nearby government plot, and in various places in the Jordan Valley. Farms and agricultural institutions would need to collaborate in finding farmers to plant dates more widely in the Beit-Sha’an Valley (בקעת בית שאן), and work to make dates take their proper place in the settlements’ economies.

These initial cuttings and their descendents survive in large plantations across “Israel” and the occupied Palestinian territories. Taher Herzallah and Tarek Khaill write that “Palm groves were planted from the Red Sea in the south along the Dead Sea, and as far as the Sea of Galilee up north, which has given the Israeli date industry its nickname ‘the industry of the three seas’” Since Israel occupied the Palestinian West Bank in 1967, it has also established date plantations in its illegal settlements in that portion of the Jordan Valley.” Today, these settlements produce between 40 and 60% of all Israeli dates.

In 2022, Israel exported 67,042 tons of dates worth $330.1 million USD; these numbers have been on a steady rise from 4,909 tons worth $1.2m. in 1993. Palestinian farmers and their children, disappropriated from their land and desperate for income, are brought in to date plantations to work for long hours in hazardous conditions for low pay. Workers are lifted into the date palms by cranes where they work, with no means of descending, until the crane comes to lower them down again at the end of the day. Injuries from falls, pesticides, heat stroke, and date-sorting machinery are common.

Meanwhile, settlers work to curtail and control Palestinian production of dates. The Palestinian population in the West Bank and Gaza is used as a pool of cheap labor and a captive market to purchase Israeli imports, absorb excesses in Israeli goods, stabilize Israeli wages, and make up for market deficits. Thus Palestinian date farmers may be targeted with repressive measures such as water contamination and diversion, destruction of wells, crop destruction, land theft, military orders forbidding the planting of trees, settler attacks, closing of checkpoints and forbidding of exports, and the denial of necessary equipment or the means to make it, in part to ensure that their goods do not compete with those of Israeli farmers in domestic or foreign markets. Leah Temper writes that these repressive measures are part of a pattern whereby Israel tries to “stop [Palestinian] growth in high value crops such as strawberries, avocados and dates, which are considered to be ‘Israeli Specialties’.”

At other times, Palestinian farmers may be ordered to grow certain crops (such as strawberries and dates), and forbidden to grow anything else, when Israeli officials fear falling short of market demand for a certain good. These crops will be exported by Israeli firms, ensuring that the majority of profits do not accrue to Palestinians, and that Palestinians will not have the ability to negotiate or fulfill export contracts themselves. Nevertheless, Palestinian farmers continue to defy these oppressive conditions and produce dates for local consumption and for export. Zuhair al-Manasreh founded date company Nakheel Palestine in 2011, which continues production despite being surrounded by Israeli settlements.

Boycotts of Israeli dates have arisen in response to the conditions imposed on Palestinian farmers and workers. Herzallah and Khaill cite USDA data on the effectiveness of boycott, pressure, and flyering campaigns initiated by groups including American Muslims for Palestine:

Israel’s exports of dates to the US have dropped significantly since 2015. Whereas 10.7 million kilogrammes (23.6 million pounds) of Israeli dates entered the US market in 2015-2016, only 3.1 million kilogrammes (seven million pounds) entered the US market in 2017-2018. The boycott is working and it is having a detrimental effect on the Israeli date industry.

Date products may not be BDS-compliant even if they are not labeled as a product of Israel. Stores may repackage dates under their own label, and exporters may avoid declaring their dates to be a product of Israel, or even falsely label them as a product of Palestine, to avoid boycotts. Purchase California dates, or dates from a known Palestinian exporter such as Zaytoun or Yaffa (not “Jaffa”) dates.

[ID: Close-up of the top of ma'moul, decorated with geometric patterns and covered in powdered sugar, in strong light and shadow. End ID]

Elsewhere

Other efforts to foreground the provenance and political-economic context of dates in a culinary setting have been made by Iraqi Jew Michael Rakowitz, whose store sold ma’moul and date syrup and informed patrons about individual people behind the hazardous transport of date imports from Iraq. Rakowitz says that his project “utilizes food as a point of entry and creates a different platform by which people can enter into conversation.”

[1] Plates from the tomb can be seen in N. de G. Davies, The tomb of Rekh-mi-Rē at Thebes, Vol. II, plates XLVII ff.

Purchase Palestinian dates

Donate to evacuate families from Gaza

Flyer campaign for eSims

Ingredients:

Makes 16 large ma'moul and 32 ka'k al-aswar; or 32 ma'moul; or 64 ka'k al-aswar.

For the dough:

360g (2 1/4 cup) fine semolina flour (سميد ناعم / طحين فرخة)

140g (1 cup + 2 Tbsp) white flour (طحين ابيض)

200g (14 Tbsp) margarine or vegetarian ghee (سمن), or olive oil

2 Tbsp (15g) powdered sugar

1 1/2 Tbsp (10g) dugga ka'k (دقة كعك)

1/2 tsp (2g) instant yeast

About 2/3 cup (190mL) water, divided (use milk if you prefer)

1 tsp toasted sesame seeds (سمسم)

1 tsp toasted nigella seeds (قزحه / حبة البركة)

Using olive oil and water for the fat and liquid in the dough is more of a rural approach to this recipe; ghee and milk (or milk powder) make for a richer cookie.

To make the bracelets easy to shape, I call for the inclusion of 1 part white flour for every 2 parts semolina (by volume). If you are only making molded cookies and like the texture of semolina flour, you can use all semolina flour; or vary the ratio as you like. Semolina flour will require more added liquid than white flour does.

For the filling:

500g pitted Madjoul dates (تمر المجهول), preferably Palestinian; or date paste

2 Tbsp oil or softened margarine

3/4 tsp dugga ka'k (دقة كعك)

3/4 tsp ground cinnamon

5 green cardamom pods, toasted, skins removed and ground; or 1/4 tsp ground cardamom

Small chunk nutmeg, toasted and ground, or 1/4 tsp ground nutmeg

10 whole cloves, toasted and ground, or 1/4 tsp ground cloves

The filling may be spiced any way you wish. Some recipes call for solely dugga ka'k (or fennel and aniseed, its main components); some for a mixture of cinnamon, cardamom, nutmeg, and/or cloves; and some for both. This recipe gives an even balance between the pungency of fennel and aniseed and the sweet spiciness of cinnamon and cloves.

Palestinian date brands include Ziyad, Zaytoun, Hasan, and Jawadir. Palestinian dates can also be purchased from Equal Exchange. You can find them online or at a local halal market. Note that an origin listed as "West Bank" does not indicate that a date company is not Israeli, as it may be based in a settlement. Avoid King Solomon, Jordan River, Mehadrin, MTex, Edom, Carmel Agrexco, Arava, and anything marked “exported by Hadiklaim”. Also avoid supermarket brands, as the origin of the dates may not be clearly marked or may be falsified to avoid boycots.

Instructions:

For the dough:

1. Melt margarine in a microwave or saucepan. Measure flours into a large mixing bowl and pour in margarine; mix thoroughly to combine. Rub flours between your hands for a few minutes to coat the grains in margarine. The texture should resemble that of coarse sad. Refrigerate the mixture overnight, or for up to 3 days.

2. Add dry ingredients to dough. If making both molded ma'moul and ka'k al-aswar, split the dough in half and add sesame and nigella seeds to one bowl.

3. Add water to each dough until you get a smooth dough that does not crack apart when formed into a ball and pressed. Press until combined and smooth, but do not over-knead—we don't want a bready texture. Set aside to rest while you make the filling.

For the filling:

1. Pit dates and check the interiors for mold. Grind all ingredients to a paste in a food processor. You may need to add a teaspoon of water, depending on the consistency of your dates.

To shape the cookies:

Divide the filling in half. One half will be used for the ma'moul, and the other half for the bracelets.

For the ma'moul:

1. With wet hands, pinch off date filling into small chunks about the size of a walnut (13-16g each, depending on the size of your mold)—or roll filling into a long log and divide into 16-20 even pieces with a dough scraper. Roll each piece of filling into a ball between your palms.

2. Divide the dough (the half without seeds) into the same number of balls as you have balls of filling, either using a kitchen scale or rolling into a log and cutting.

3. Form the dough into a cup shape. Place a ball of filling in the center, and fold the edges over to seal. Press the dough into a floured ma'moul mold to shape, then firmly tap the tip of the mold on your work surface to release; or, use a pair of spiked tweezers or a fork to add decorative designs by hand.

4. Repeat until all the the dough and filling has been used, covering the dough you're not working with to keep it from drying out. Place each cookie on a prepared baking sheet.

For the ka'k al-aswar:

1. With wet hands, divide the date filling into about 32 pieces (of about 8g each); they should each roll into a small log about the size of your pinkie finger.

2. Divide the dough (the half with the seeds) into as many pieces as you have date logs.

3. Take a ball of dough and flatten it into a thin rectangle a tiny bit longer than your date log, and about 3 times as wide. Place the date log in the center, then pull the top and bottom edges over the log and press to seal. Seal the ends.

4. Roll the dough log out again to produce a thin, long rope a little bit thinner at the very ends than at the center. Press one side of the rope over the other to form a circle and press to seal.

5. Repeat until all the the dough and filling has been used, covering the dough you're not working with to keep it from drying out. Place each cookie on a prepared baking sheet.

To bake:

1. Bake ma'moul at 350 °F (175 °C) in the center of the oven for about 20 minutes, until very lightly golden brown. They will continue to firm up as they cool.

2. Increase oven heat to 400 °F (205 °C) and bake ka'k al-aswar in the top third of the oven for about 20 minutes, until golden brown.

Sprinkle cookies with powdered sugar, if desired. Store in an airtight container and serve with tea or coffee, or give to friends and neighbors.

#Palestinian #cookies #baking #Eid #long post /

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arashi-no-saxlphone · 8 months

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Axl Low is conceptually so funny in-universe. You've got this poor guy who by all accounts is the sweetest coolest guy, but he's literally a gang leader. BUT. He leads a gang to end violent crime in his town and he does it by fighting but without netting a SINGLE CASUALTY while doing it - he just beats up all these criminals and almost every single time they're like "This guy kinda rules I'm signing up with him actually" and he SUCCEEDS in ending crime in his neighborhood doing that. Then he meets his girlfriend and she thinks he's such a weird goofy guy and she falls in love instantly. Things are Great and then he is Yeeted Through Time multiple times. He ends up a few hundred years into the future and he just kinda deals with it, maintaining a glass-half-full attitude for the majority of that time despite this being probably one of the most horrifying things that can happen to a person. No one really cares about all that though, because the guy with time powers is Very Dangerous because of the time powers. Imagine being told "That guy over there is an extremely dangerous threat to reality on a metaphysical level" and you look over and they're pointing at some guy with the Union Jack plastered all over him just DESTROYING a hamburger and he looks over and waves at you.

By Xrd and Strive he's got control of his powers, and this makes him A Very Seriously Dangerous Threat. The Original contacts him personally to deliver a message to The Fucking Gear Maker. The Gear Maker sees him cause like "Holy shit. The Axes of Time. This guy is very dangerous and we should be careful" and Axl Low shows up, asks him if he's The Famous War Criminal Who Caused All This Bullshit, and freaks out and leaves when said war criminal offers him cookies for his trouble.

Jack-O asks Sol in Strive what the biggest threat to the world is right now and he goes "Axl" with a straight face. They talk about how dangerous he could be and within 4 seconds of that conversation Axl Low drops out of Fucking Nowhere onto their Speeding Motorcycle cause he needs Sol's help to save some innocent people on a hunch. How do you not shit yourself? I'll tell you how - because Axl Low is the equivalent of accidentally tripping into hell and meeting the devil and it turns out that the devil is actually just a fluffy golden retriever who has NO idea what he's doing and just wants pats like any other normal dog. Except he is just really powerful so people make assumptions. "Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely" not my boy Axl Low. Decided against doing what he wanted to get what he wanted most because he wasn't going to erase an entire timeline to get home, even though he easily could've justified it as "Not my problem, not my fault, this is awful." The second he has full control over his time powers he uses it to either help people or get fast food really quickly so he has time for a stupid quip after a round. What a fucking hilarious character dude imagine if you met father time and he was just like "can I borrow some cash for McDonald's?" because that's pretty much how he acts. And you're just bewildered so you're like sure, hand him a 20, and you blink and father time came back cause he got you some fries. I fucking adore this man.

#guilty gear #axl low #ggst #sairambles #He's a good boy your honor #I need to have the Axl Low mentality it would fix me

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drpeppertummy · 4 months

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alphabet-themed stuffing/tummyache/tiny bit of hunger writing/drawing prompts

Air. Your character swallows too much air while eating, chewing, drinking, what have you, and finds themselves uncomfortably bloated. Maybe they refuse to burp out of politeness, their belly grumbling in protest as they swallow down any air that tries to escape.

Bubbles. Your character overdoes it with fizzy drinks. Maybe it's an exceptionally fizzy one, maybe it was just a little too much. Maybe there were Mentos involved. Either way, their stomach is filled to the brim with liquid and gas.

Cookies. It's the holiday season, and your character either bakes or receives more cookies than they know what to do with. Somebody ought to eat them before they get stale.

Determination. Maybe your character is stubborn. Maybe they've taken on a challenge. Maybe they've got some sort of goal to reach, or maybe they're trying to take care of some food that won't be good much longer. Whatever the reason, your character is hell-bent on finishing their food, even if their tummy is begging them to stop.

Endless. Your character has far too much food on their plate, and no matter how much they eat, it feels like they're not even making a dent. How long can they go on before they have to quit?

Friends. Your character sits down for dinner with some loved ones, but they're worried their pal isn't eating enough and urge them to have more.

Greasy. How much oily fried food can your character's tummy handle before they start feeling sick? Hopefully they're at least in the comfort of their own home and not out at a fair or something, otherwise they might have a hard time soothing their upset belly.

Help. Somebody needs help cleaning their plate. Maybe your character gives that last bite to somebody else, or maybe they're the one taking it. Maybe, if you're feeling scandalous, somebody helps them finish by feeding them that last bite.

Inches. How far can your character's belly expand? Maybe enough to be visible. Or for their shirt to ride up. Or even to pop a button. What does it take for them to swell up so much?

Juicy. It's easy to overdo it on fruit, especially when it's nice and ripe. It's refreshing, it's fun to eat, and it's gonna go bad soon anyway, right? No problems, at least until your character realizes how full they are.

KFC. Does your character have a favorite fast food place? Maybe they eat too much when they go there because it's just that good. Maybe it's a little ways away and they have to make it worth the drive. Maybe they have a new special your character's been dying to try and it's bigger than expected. How does all that cheap greasy food feel sitting in their stomach?

Liquid. Your character has a beverage that's a little too much. Maybe they're already full from eating, maybe it's just a huge drink, but either way, for one reason or another, they're determined to finish it.

Movies. Your character overestimates how much food they need for a movie snack and winds up with far too much. Maybe they're too focused on the movie to realize how full they're getting, or maybe they just eat it all because they don't want to have to put it away.

Nougat. It's Halloween, and your character is surrounded by candy. Maybe they're giving it out, maybe they've been given some, maybe they just bought a bunch because they could. How much can they eat before it gives them a bellyache?

Overestimate. Maybe your character's eyes are bigger than their stomach and they dish themself out more than they can handle, or maybe somebody else overestimates their capacity and gives them too big a serving of food. Will they try to finish all of it even once they're full?

Pizza. How many slices can your character eat? Can they fit more if it's their favorite topping? Perhaps this is the time to find out.

Quit. Your character has had it. Their belly is far too stuffed, and they can't eat another bite. Hopefully they weren't feeling pressured to clean their plate, because it's just not happening.

Rubs. Maybe your character has a tummyache, maybe they're stuffed silly, or maybe they just want to cuddle, but they're dying for a belly rub. Hopefully they're getting one.

Soup. It's the dead of winter, and your character is cold and shivering. They need a big bowl of hot soup to warm them up from the inside.

Tired. Your character comes home starving and utterly exhausted. Will they have the energy to cook something? Maybe they'll eat a bunch of easy snacks instead of putting together a meal, or maybe they'll go to bed hungry. If they're lucky, maybe somebody will make them something.

Underestimate. Your character leaves the table not nearly full enough, and it's not long before their tummy is growling. Do they ignore it? Feed it? Maybe they're so hungry that they eat too much to compensate.

Valentine. Somebody gives your character lots of sweets for being so sweet. Maybe they have a number of admirers who leave them saddled with more chocolate than they can handle, or maybe it's just one person who thinks they're just that adorable. Either way, they eat too much in one sitting and wind up with a belly full of sugar.

Water. After realizing how dehydrated they are, your character chugs far too much water in one sitting and winds up with an uncomfortably distended, sloshy belly.

eXtra. Your character is enjoying food with friends, and they make or order way too much, just to make sure they have enough for everybody. Maybe the whole group winds up stuffed, or maybe one person is tasked with taking care of the extra food.

Yogurt. For one reason or another, your character is trying to eat healthy. It's okay to stuff yourself silly if it's health food, right? Or maybe they finally snap and break their diet, but go a little overboard in their frenzy to eat something satisfying.

Zoo. Your character has been walking around the zoo all day--or maybe a theme park, or a carnival, or whatever the hell you want--and they're tired and hungry. They'd better stop for an overpriced snack break. Hopefully they don't spend the rest of their outing with a bellyache.

#belly kink #tummy kink #stuffing #stuffed belly #stomachache kink #hunger kink #prompts #text

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zepskies · 5 months

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Smoke Eater - Part 15

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

AN: Thank you as always for the lovely responses on the previous chapter! It was a long one, so thank you for sticking through with me. We're about to lighten up a little with some Christmas spirit! ❄️🎁

**Also, if you're a fan of The Boys (and Soldier Boy), there's an awesome book you can check out, called Supes Ain’t Always Heroes: Inside the Complex Characters and Twisted Psychology of The Boys.

If you want to learn more about the book (including cast interviews and a character study on Soldier Boy), I wrote a review about it here!

Otherwise, on to some more firefighter!Dean!

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,800 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, fluff, tinge of angst, hurt/comfort, lots of feels.

Part 15: “The Good Part”

“How many damn arrests does that make?” Daniel asked. He gripped his pool cue with both hands while he leaned on it.

His son stood at the other end of the pool table, lining up his shot. He paused to think.

“Six,” Nick replied. His cue released, and it knocked two of his balls into the pocket.

“Six,” Daniel repeated, while Nick came his way to find an angle for his next turn.

Daniel shook his head. His lips were angrily pursed. His eyes might’ve been on the pool game, but he was playing chess in his mind. He had underestimated John Winchester for far too long, it seemed.

The man was stubborn as all hell. And he’d been busy lately, getting “Azazel’s” men busted for all manners of bullshit.

“Alastair’s mole says Winchester’s been calling in favors from his old friends in Narcotics, trying to bust our small fries,” Nick reported. “Getting them on everything from petty theft to drug possession, with intent to sell. But it’s nothing we can’t pull ‘em out of.”

“Time, money, added risk,” Daniel cited on his fingers all the reasons why John Winchester was a pain in his ass. “It’s only a matter of time before they get a warrant to rip apart Savage & Co., sweep the whole damn building. For forensic evidence, our files, all the jazz.”

Daniel’s fingers drummed thoughtfully against his chin. “A damn cop thinks he’s being cute.”

Nick missed his second turn. His hand fell against his thigh in annoyance, but he looked up.

“Dad, it’s your move.”

Daniel rubbed at his chin. His eyes were no longer seeing the board in front of him. Eventually, they slid up and met his son’s gaze.

“We’re going to start from the beginning,” he said.

Nick’s face gave away his confusion. “What? What do you mean?”

Daniel just smiled.

It was Christmas Day, and John was late. Sam and Dean were used to that drill, so they weren’t expecting him until dinnertime.

Meanwhile, it gave you a chance to find your footing as you got to know Eileen. She had helped you bake the pies that were now cooling on the counter (pumpkin and berry crumble), and a few of the side dishes for dinner. Sam had covered cleaning up the rest of the house, while Dean tackled his favorites: the ham and the mac and cheese.

Now the guys were in the living room watching football while you and Eileen were still in the kitchen, decorating some gingerbread cookies you two had made. She enjoyed it; doing holiday crafts with her students had been bringing out her artistic side, she told you. You were happy for the help and the conversation.

You later tried to cover up your snort of laughter as she finished telling you the story of how Dean once dared Sam to wear women’s underwear for a whole week.

If he managed it, Dean had promised to do all the household chores for three months. If Sam couldn’t make it the whole week, then he would face the consequences: Dean would tell their dad about the bet.

“How old were they?” you asked.

Eileen scoffed. “Sam was a senior in college.”

You burst out laughing again. “So too old, is the answer… Did he win?”

Eileen gave you a mischievous smile.

“He did,” Dean said, as he appeared in the kitchen doorway with a familiar smirk. “I’ve got photographic evidence. It was a cheetah print thong, in case you were wondering.”

Your eyes widened on a laugh. “Oh my God.”

Cheetahlicious, you couldn’t help joking in your mind. Even if you’d rather not think of Sam wearing a pair of Victoria Secret’s best.

Eileen giggled with you. Dean’s amusement gave way to curiosity as he eyed the little gingerbread men you two were icing. You warned him off with your eyes, but it took Eileen batting his hand when he tried to steal a cookie.

“Hey! Wait ‘til after dinner,” she said.

Dean pouted. “Come on, don’t be stingy.”

Rolling her eyes, Eileen sighed.

“You’re like one of my kids,” she said, while signing with her hands. But she caved and handed him a cookie. “Here. To tide you over.”

Dean smiled and signed back to her in ASL, Thank you.

“That’s why you’re my favorite,” he said. He leaned down to kiss her cheek in a brotherly gesture.

He shot you a wink before taking a bite of his prize. You shook your head at him, even though you were smiling. He came around to your side of the table. His hand rested on your back and he bent down towards your ear.

“I actually came over for you,” he said. “Got a minute?”

Your brows rose, but you turned to Eileen in askance. “I’ll be right back. Is that okay?”

She nodded and made an “OK” gesture. “Of course.”

You smiled and let Dean lead you out of your chair, and even out of the apartment. He made sure you both grabbed your coats by the front door.

“Where are we going?” you asked. While you put on your coat over your sweater and jeans, you didn’t notice him grabbing two sets of keys.

“Just downstairs. No big deal,” he said, hefting on his own leather jacket.

You eyed him with some suspicion, but you walked with him down to the elevators and let him keep you close to his side. He smelled like the cologne you bought him for Christmas, and he was already wearing the new watch as well.

You’d struggled to find him the right gift. Nothing felt quite enough after everything he’d done for you the last few months. He’d assured you that he was grateful for both gifts, and had even tried to say the watch looked too expensive. (You’d shut him up with a kiss.)

Now, you had to wonder what he was up to as he led you into the parking lot, but not toward Baby. Instead, you two stopped in front of a shiny silver Chevy parked in a guest spot.

“Dean, what’d you do?” you asked, both excited and worried. He shot you a grin and dangled the keys in front of you.

“You like her?” he asked. His eyes were dancing. “You could keep her, if you ask nicely.”

Your face slackened. You looked between him and the sleek looking car.

“What?” You covered your mouth with both hands. Even after a few moments, your brain was still having a hard time computing. “No…what? Oh my God!”

You grabbed onto his jacket, just in case your legs failed you. Dean laughed and gathered you up in his arms. By the time you peeled your eyes away from the silver beauty to look up at your boyfriend, there were tears already swimming in your eyes.

“Dean, this is really too much. Where’d you find—”

“Bobby had it sitting in his garage for years,” he explained. His hand came up to brush your cheek, and the tears there. “I cleaned her up, dropped in a new engine, safe-proofed with new tires, new airbags, the works. Got her purring like a kitten.”

Your eyes grew a little wider with every admission. Then you softened, gripping the edges of his jacket while you bit your lip to keep it from wobbling.

“How much did he sell it to you for?” you asked. Dean dropped his head back with a sigh.

“Don’t you wanna take a test ride before we start hagglin’?”

You lightly smacked his chest. “Hey. How much?”

He let out another heavy sigh, but you eventually got it out of him. While the price wasn’t as bad as you might’ve expected, you still shook your head.

“I still have a decent chunk of insurance money left. I’m giving you at least half,” you said.

Dean shook his head. “This is my gift to you.”

Your lips pursed, despite the smile that wanted to peek through.

“Nice try,” you said wryly. “You already got me perfume.”

“That was just the decoy.” He grinned, and held you a bit tighter against him. He nodded towards the car. “She’s the main event.”

You wanted to sigh, but this conversation wasn’t over. You were definitely not letting him buy you a whole new…old car. You turned to look at it again.

“What model is this?” you asked.

“2002 Camaro Z28,” Dean rattled off. It sounded impressive, but you didn’t know much about cars.

He let go of you so you could get a closer look. Your hand passed over the hood, but didn’t touch, as if you were afraid of staining the paint with your fingerprints. He had to admit, he’d waxed it up good and managed to get rid of a lot of superficial nicks and scratches.

What he said was true though; Bobby had given him a frankly ridiculous deal. Because when Dean had told him what you’d been through after the car accident, dealing with your grandfather’s passing, and now your ever-mounting expenses, Bobby hadn’t let him walk away from Singer Salvage with anything else but this car. He’d even helped Dean get the new parts he needed to fix it up.

“Is it automatic or manual?” you asked, trying to peer through the driver’s window. “I haven’t driven stick in a hell of a long time.”

Dean came up from behind you and his warm hand found your hip. You let him draw you back into his arms, leaning against his chest.

His lips were close to your ear when he said, “I think you’re damn good at driving stick.”

It took you a second, but the heavily laden innuendo in his deep voice was hard to miss. You uttered a laugh and swatted his arm.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said. You were still smiling when you turned and twined your arms around his neck. Then you leaned up for a kiss—one that kept getting deeper with the full force of your gratefulness, and your love for this man.

“It’s an automatic,” he answered, between kisses. You giggled against his lips.

You barely felt the chill on the air. Your heart was beating fast, even when you pulled away from him. Your eyes slowly opened and met his. He smiled down at you and curled an errant strand of hair behind your ear. As usual, you had most of it clipped up.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he said. His voice was quiet, but steady.

You let out a shaky breath. Emotion was clogging your throat, making your tears burn anew.

“This is a bit more than a Christmas present,” you said. He gave a more self-deprecating smile.

“Well, it’s also kind of an apology,” he said. “For getting you mixed up in my ‘family business.’”

He still felt guilt beyond belief for putting you in danger. For your life being threatened. For being the reason you couldn’t go home.

You just shook your head. Your hand raised to press against his cheek. Your thumb drew tenderly along his chin.

“I thought you said you were part of my family now?” you said. “We’ll figure this out together, like everything else.”

Dean’s eventual smile lightened you, and his kiss warmed you down to your toes.

“If you want, let’s go for a ride after dinner,” he said.

It was your turn to smirk. Your hands migrated under his jacket and teased at his belt.

“Well, I’m certainly down for a ride,” you said.

Dean laughed and squeezed your hips. “All right. I’m puttin’ you on my naughty list.”

When John finally arrived, the brothers welcomed him in first with big man hugs and good-natured ribbing for him being so damn late.

In Sam’s words, Upholding a Winchester family tradition.

John had taken that with a chuckle. “Smells damn good in here.”

“Yeah, food’s been done for an hour,” Dean prodded at him again. His grin betrayed his teasing, however. His welcoming hand stayed on his dad’s shoulder until they reached the living room, where Sam had set up a longer fold out table and chairs to function as the makeshift dining room, since the table near the kitchen only seated three.

There you were opening a bottle of Jack Daniels. You smiled up at John.

“Figured you were more of a whiskey than wine kind of guy,” you said. You were a bit nervous to see him again, no doubt with flour in your hair and frosting staining your hands. He clasped your shoulder with a hint of a smile.

“You’d be right. Good to see you, darlin’,” he said.

“You too,” you replied. Despite the fact that the first and last time you two had met, it had been in front of your house as the police rifled through your life, looking for more explosives. He graciously didn’t bring that up as he greeted Eileen next.

Once dinner was on the table, there was a lot of catching up between the brothers and their father while you and Eileen continued talking, even through dessert.

“This really is amazing,” she told you, pointing her fork at her slice of berry crumble. “I can see why you went to culinary school.”

You blushed as Sam, Dean, and even John echoed her praise. All three men had generous slices of both pies.

“Well, thank you. I’m glad you guys enjoy it,” you said, and your smile was genuine.

You loved making good food, but you loved feeding people even more. Whether it was a simple hearty soup or a rich dessert, you liked putting smiles on their faces and giving them a good experience; one they could share with their family and friends. Even better if it was your family.

Or as Dean would say, Your people.

To you, that was life.

“I’m tellin’ you, if you opened up a bakery you’d make a killing in this town,” Dean said. He nudged your hand with the one that held his fork; it held a precarious piece of pumpkin pie.

You shot him an amused look.

“Don’t you look at me sideways, I’m serious,” he said, laughing a little, but his gaze was steady.

Your cheeks warmed against your will. He believed in your dream, even when you couldn’t quite let yourself.

“Hey, if you ever want to look into applying for a loan, I could help,” Sam said, earning your attention. “I have a friend who works at a bank.”

Your brows raised. “Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah, we were pre-law together back in college, but he figured he was better with numbers.”

You smiled. “Well, it would make it easier knowing I was dealing with your friend.”

“Yeah, his name’s Brady. Let me know if you want me to call him,” he said.

You bit your lip, but you nodded. “Thanks. I’ll let you know.”

Maybe they were right. Maybe you should start to believe in yourself, just a little bit more.

“This was all real delicious,” John said to you, when you came back from bringing the leftovers to the kitchen.

Sam and Dean were already arguing about who was doing the dishes and who was drying them. Meanwhile, Eileen was putting away the food (and probably rolling her eyes).

“Yeah, it was a team effort for sure,” you replied. “Dean’s actually a really good cook.”

John chuckled. “Yeah, well, he didn’t get that from me. I can barely boil a damn egg.”

You smiled to yourself; you could imagine Dean got it from his mother then.

Meanwhile, John was watching you stack the empty plates as he grew more contemplative. He’d always been proud of his sons. They were good men, with strong heads on their shoulders.

He often looked at Sam and saw that he seemed happy. Despite the demands of his job, he was learning to balance that with the life he led with Eileen. As a father, John looked forward to the day when they made a firm foundation, taking the next step towards building a life together.

But Dean had seemed to him, a little unstable. John was still proud of his eldest, but while he’d seen a glimpse of it that day at your house, he saw it even more today. Like his son finally had an anchor, tethering him to dry land.

Even so, he couldn’t help heaving a sigh. And he asked you something he knew he shouldn’t.

“Have you given any more thought to filing a report on Nick Savage?” he asked.

You paused in your plate and cup stacking. You looked up at him with a frown, but you thought about your words before you said something rude.

“Yes, I did,” you replied. “I decided my life and my peace were more important.”

He let out a short sigh. “I understand—”

“I’m sorry, John, but I don’t think you do,” you said. Your words were matter-of-fact, if a tad more sharp than you meant them to be. Your hands were starting to tremble.

You crossed your arms to try and steady yourself, but Dean ended up doing just that, by joining your side and resting a hand at the small of your back. He was frowning, glancing between you and his father.

“Tell me you’re not talking about what I think you are,” Dean said, addressing John in particular. “Not on damn Christmas.”

“Like you said, it’s her decision,” John replied. His gaze once again focused on you.

You let out a breath, mostly of exasperation.

“I’m going to bottom-line it for you. If I report that man, and you can’t guarantee me a job and safety until it’s all over, then I’m not poking the bear,” you said. “I plan to keep my head down until I can find another job. Until then, you can have at him all you want. Just leave me out of it.”

Part of you felt selfish. You knew what John was trying to accomplish, and you knew how personal this fight was for him, and for Sam and Dean for that matter. You just couldn’t shake your gut instincts here. You knew Nick far too well by now, and you didn’t want to underestimate him again.

“I agree,” said Dean. You gave him a grateful look.

John conceded with a nod, but all of you knew he wasn’t satisfied. It became a bitter ending to an otherwise brilliant day after he left for the night.

In your mind, it wasn’t quite over yet though. You had a plan up your sleeve for one Dean Winchester.

Sam and Eileen had their own time together while you and Dean went for a drive in your new car. You’d have to transfer your plate and registration and insurance, so it was technically an “illegal” drive, but it was already late and traffic was scarce.

By the time you pulled back into the parking lot, you were smiling from ear to ear, and Dean was giving you that smug grin that said, Aw yeah, I did good.

You couldn’t even fault him for it, because he did exactly that.

Even when you and Dean were getting ready for bed, it didn’t quite feel real. You were living with your boyfriend of just a few months, you now had a new car, and a crime lord had threatened your life.

You chose to focus on the new car. And on your boyfriend, who sat on the edge of his side of the bed, rubbing his right shoulder through his shirt. You knew it must still be sore, though he likely wouldn’t admit it.

Hence, you were about to enact Phase 1 of your plan…

You hadn’t undressed yet from your jeans and sweater, but you crawled across the bed to come up behind him and drop a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“How’s your slugging arm?” you asked.

Dean quirked a smile at you over his shoulder. “Just fine.”

“Dean,” you said. Your tone was gentle, but warning. No downplaying.

You pressed your lips against the side of his head and soothed your hand along his shoulder and down his arm. Still, he was resistant.

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he said.

You hummed. “Okay. I guess you don’t need a massage then.”

He paused. His head tilted just so, once again turning to you over his shoulder. You spied the edge of his piqued interest, his grin.

“Well, if you’re offering…”

You withdrew your hand from his arm, but you spoke close to his ear.

“Are you asking?”

He let out a small sigh, despite his lingering smile.

“All right. Will you please give me a lil’ massage?” he asked.

He couldn’t see your triumphant smile, but you happily kissed his cheek.

“I sure can,” you replied. You laid gentle hands on his shoulders, however briefly. “Stay right here. Don’t move, but take off your shirt.”

“All right, Miss Bossy,” he grumbled. You knew he was teasing by the amused look he threw your way.

“I thought you liked that,” you teased back.

You climbed off the bed before he could playfully grab you, and you giggled all the way to the bathroom. There you began Phase 2 of your plan.

First, you collected a few different bottles from your designated drawer under the sink. Then, you made a quick wardrobe change, after popping back into the bedroom to grab something from your nightstand.

You also connected your phone to the speaker on his nightstand and put some music on a low volume. It was a playlist he’d made and shared with you a while ago, with songs he thought you’d like. The Eagles’ “Take It to the Limit” was definitely on the list.

By the time you returned to Dean, he was indeed shirtless, still in his sweatpants, and checking his watch.

“I’m here, I’m here,” you said. You climbed across the bed with your small haul—a difficult feat with your hands full, but you managed.

Dean turned to look at the bottles of moisturizer you dropped next to him on the bed. He rose a brow.

“Twilight Woods. Japanese Cherry Blossom. Appletini. Are these my only options?” he asked. His face was half bemused, half reluctant.

You almost burst out laughing. “Which one strikes your fancy?”

He scratched the back of his head. You opened the second bottle first (your personal favorite), so he could smell.

“Not bad actually,” he muttered. You bit your lip so you wouldn’t giggle, but you managed to open the other two for him to get a whiff.

“Eh, the first one I guess,” he said.

Japanese Cherry Blossom. AKA: a classic from Bath & Body Works.

You finally had to laugh. “Just kidding. I’ve got this.”

You held up a jar you’d been hiding behind him. Its logo said: Massage Oil.

“I just wanted to see which girly moisturizer you secretly wanna slather all over yourself,” you said.

Dean shot you a wry look, but only then did he see what you were wearing.

“Oh, hold up,” he uttered.

Your hair was let loose, how you knew he liked, and you’d teased it out a little. You’d had to give away the red lingerie you’d bought, to rid both of you of its lingering memories of your work Christmas party. Instead, you’d found something in a vibrant emerald green: satin and lace.

Dean’s hand reached for your waist, probably to bring you closer. But you playfully slapped his hand.

“Eh-eh! Not yet,” you said to his surprised face. You smiled. “I have a plan for you tonight.”

Slowly, he smirked. His eyes still dipped to take in the rest of you, from your pretty face, to exposed skin and cleavage, to shiny satin that clung to your curves and draped down to mid-thigh.

“I can see,” he said. His voice was a notch deeper. “Merry Christmas to me.”

Despite your blush and growing smile, you turned him back around by his shoulders.

“Just relax.”

You let your hands drift up the back of his neck to slide your fingers through his hair. There you began with a slow, gentle massage of his head. You felt him take a deep breath.

You couldn’t see it, but Dean’s eyes had closed at your ministrations. He secretly really liked the feeling of your fingers running through his hair. It made his shoulders loosen; with tension he didn’t know he had releasing from the neck down.

Aside from the rigors of his job, he also had to work out and condition his body to keep up his stamina. He probably didn’t spend as much time as he should on this aspect of things, making sure he wasn’t overtaxing himself.

He appreciated what you were doing though. He knew you cared about him, that you loved him. But he liked that you were also a caring person, who tried to take care of him. Dean hadn’t really had that…from anyone before. Sometimes, it was hard for him to let you.

…Damn, we really got too much in common, he realized.

When you migrated back down his neck, your hands left for a moment to gather up some oil. It was warm against his skin when you started between his shoulders, digging with the heel of your hands.

He groaned deep, surprising even himself.

Behind him, your brows were furrowed. “You’re really knotted up here. When was the last time you had a massage?”

Dean chuckled. “Never.”

You frowned. “Hmm. Okay, we’re definitely doing this more often.”

“No complaints from me,” he said with a grin.

Of course, you gave special attention to his right shoulder. You were gentler there, asking what was tender and what felt good, or too much. By then you had an easier time getting the truth out of Dean. He let you know when the pressure was too much, and you even helped him stretch out that arm until the muscles and joints were warmed up and the pain was gone.

You encouraged him to lie on his stomach in the middle of the bed, so you could start on his back. Your hands glided down planes of muscle and smooth slopes while you straddled his thighs. The only sounds you heard from him were occasional moans and rumbling, pleased sounds. That was also what let you know that he hadn’t fallen asleep.

“Okay, turn over,” you said, smiling when he groaned in protest. “I haven’t even gotten to the good part.”

“What the hell’s the good part then?” he asked. His voice was muffled in the mattress, but when he turned around, flopping onto his back, his eyes once again took in the green satin and seemed to remember what your real intentions were.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. His grin was lazy, now that he was beyond relaxed, but his hands found purchase on your hips. You smiled down at him.

You let the remaining oil on your hands glide up his chest, until you lowered down for a kiss. It was unhurried and sweet.

“I love you, you know?” you said.

Dean swept his fingers through your hair, tucking a few strands behind your ear.

He smiled. “I’ve got some idea, yeah.”

You both laughed, soft and true. Your hand rested against his cheek as you pressed your lips to his, soft and slow at first, but soon gaining in both passion and urgency. You felt his grip on your hips tighten, grinding your center against his growing length.

He groaned. No goddamn panties on. Good.

You kissed your way from his lips to his neck. Your teeth grazed his ear while you rolled your hips into his. It was a tease for both of you, but not for long, as Dean grew impatient enough to slide his sweatpants down, followed by his hands slipping under the satin covering your thighs. They traveled further still, squeezing your breasts and rolling hardened nipples under the pads of his thumbs.

Your breath hitched, and your pleased hum was music to his ears. By now you were bracing yourself against the mattress, but you used his shoulders as leverage to raise yourself up.

You took his hands and encouraged them to bunch up the satin and pull it over your head. Dean sat up with you still in his lap, and once his strong arm wrapped around your waist, it was skin to flushed skin.

You held his face and brought him down to you for another fierce kiss. He held you tightly against him, hands splayed across your back and tangling in your hair. His arms were a cage you never wanted to escape.

But you did press away from him, just for a moment, so you could reach down between your bodies to take a firm hold of his cock. You guided it to your entrance. There was already a small flood between your legs, and your core ached for him.

There was almost no resistance when you slowly sunk your hips down and down, until he was buried deep inside you.

You both made sounds of pleasure, with labored breaths as Dean’s hand cradled your cheek. He laid open-mouthed kisses to your jaw, teeth grazing down your neck.

You clung to his shoulders and began to move, slow in the way you let almost the full length of his cock escape you, before you slid back down. Dean moaned into your skin, and you let out a shuddering sigh.

You pushed at Dean’s chest until he was lying back, and you continued rolling your hips against his. He helped you create a steady rhythm on top of him, but he was being treated to a feast of the eyes as well as the pleasure rocking through his body. He watched the way you swept your hair back. The way your eyes closed and brows furrowed in concentration as you bit your lip.

But he couldn’t stay still for long; he knew he was close enough to practically taste his end, but you had some miles to go. He gripped your thigh with one hand while the other glided up between them, to further part your folds. His fingers found your clit, circling insistently like it was a button. It had your hips stuttering.

“Oh, God,” you uttered. “Dean—”

He managed to smirk through panting breaths. “Right there, right baby?”

You nodded, unable to speak. You continued to move as steadily as you could, but the feeling of him deep inside combined with his talented fingers playing you like a five-string guitar—it finally made you tighten on him, shuddering deep inside. Tingles broke across your skin, zipping up your spine as you gasped.

Dean helped you with the last few hard thrusts that brought him along with you, and you felt his warmth spilling inside you.

It wasn’t the first time that had happened, since you were on birth control. But after you slid off his lap and practically rolled into his side, him welcoming you with an arm wrapping around your waist, it did make you think, as you caught your breath.

It made you think about the first time you and Dean slept together. It had been the first and last time you’d asked him to wear a condom. The next morning, he’d made a remark that still hung in the back of your mind…

“You like kids, huh?”

The thought still rattled through your mind now, after you and Dean shared a quick shower, ridding you both of the oil clinging to your skin. The thought remained when you slid into bed, under fresh sheets and thick covers, and close to your man. He cupped your cheek and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes at the feeling.

Contrary to what this night had been, the whole “moving in together” thing hadn’t been all that easy. You two had bickered about the way he often left drawers and cabinets open and dirty clothes on the floor.

He had made remarks about your hair products taking up too much space in his drawers. Not to mention how morning routines needed to adjust because Dean liked to shower in the morning, but you needed the mirror not fogged up in order to do your makeup.

Right now, however, you had peace. You felt safe here, and you weren’t alone in a huge house filled with far too many memories.

“Can I ask you something?” you said.

Dean’s lips lingered on your forehead. “Hmm?”

“I know this situation is sort of temporary, me living here,” you said. “So much has happened that we haven’t really talked about…what we both want, down the line.”

He pulled back enough from you to see your face. His face betrayed a thread of confusion.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean like…” you hesitated, but you realized you were probably going to have to be direct. “Are you a marriage and kids kind of guy? Is that even something you’ve thought about?”

Dean met your gaze. It took him a moment, but he let out a short sigh.

“You wanna know what made me want to start dating, for real?” he asked.

You blinked; you hadn’t expected that, but you nodded.

“I started thinking about what would happen if something happened to me on the job,” he said. You frowned, but before you could say anything, he raised a placating hand.

“I thought about what I’d leave behind,” said Dean. He quirked a wry smile. “It’s not much, besides my car.”

You frowned in earnest. Your hand flattened against his bare chest.

“That’s not true,” you said. “You have your brother, your father, and your friends. That’s plenty, Dean.”

He conceded that with a nod. “You’re right. But I just started thinking, maybe I want more. Like uh…like what my parents had, when they were happy. The house, each other, me and Sammy…a family.”

You couldn’t be certain in the near total darkness of the room, with only the moonlight filtering through the blinds and casting a glow behind him, but you thought you saw a shine in his eyes. Your hand crept up from beneath the covers to find his cheek. It was rough with stubble, yet you tenderly swept a thumb back and forth.

“I think that’s beautiful,” you replied.

Dean paused. He then huffed in amusement. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, hoping he could see it.

“Then uh, is that something you’d be into?” he asked. You were amused by his tentative approach.

“With you?” You pretended to think. Your fingers slipped into his hair. “Yeah, I think I’m into that.”

He chuckled. “Okay, then. Good to know.”

He grasped your wrist and turned his head to press a kiss into your palm.

And he spoke into the dark. “I love you too, you know.”

Your smile deepened as you rested your head against his arm. You whispered into the small space between your faces.

“Yeah, I’ve got some idea.”

AN: 🥹 All righty, how'd you like that fluff overload?

...Ready for some more drama? 😏

Next Time:

But the more you thought about what you’d heard, and Nick’s ominous threat about a cop, you found yourself scrolling lower in your contacts. You called John Winchester.

It rang a few times, and all the while you made silent, fervent prayers. Pick up, damn it! You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

“Winchester,” he answered.

“John, it’s me,” you whispered. “Azazel’s here. Or, he’s not here, here, but I know who he is. Well, I mean kind of—”

“Okay, wait. Slow down,” he said. “What about Azazel? You know who he is?”

Keep Reading: PART 16

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb

@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

#The Good Part #Smoke Eater #Part 15 #dean winchester #Firefighter!Dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester x you #firefighter AU #dean winchester AU #spn #supernatural #Sam Winchester #eileen leahy #john winchester #zepskies writes

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incorrectbatfam · 1 year

Note

Could you please do some headcanons about Batmans cooking disasters over the years?

Age 5: Bruce puts tinfoil in the microwave. Alfred shakes his head and laughs

Age 6: He decorates a cookie so badly another kid cries until they throw up

Age 7: He tries to make a PB&J and the countertop is sticky for a week

Age 8: He tries to make Martha's chicken noodle soup but ends up crying on the kitchen floor surrounded by half-chopped vegetables

Age 9: He tries to impress a houseguest by recreating Thomas's mixology tricks (sans alcohol). There's still a stain on the ceiling to this day

Age 10: He makes green eggs. It's not on purpose. He's never even read the book

Age 11: He makes lava in the school cafeteria

Age 12: He tries to make cheese bread by drilling holes into a baguette and filling it with melted nacho cheese

Age 13: He melts a cutting board in the oven

Age 14: He folds a Pop Tart

Age 15: The chocolate-covered bananas he makes for the school bake sale come out looking very very wrong

Age 16: He's asked to drop a home economics class after mistaking refried beans for pumpkin puree in a pie

Age 17: He boils eggs in the carton

Age 18: He makes his entire freshman dorm evacuate after burning his ramen to ash

Age 19: He sculpts a severed hand out of meatloaf and is sent to the university psychologist

Age 20: He tries to bake a cake but doesn't have a cake pan, so he pours the batter right in the oven

Age 21: He tries Thomas's mixology tricks again, this time with alcohol. One of the tricks is flipping it over his head. He ends up losing part of his vision for 3 days

Age 22: He burns water. Harley Quinn is there. She still holds it over his head

Age 23: He packs his first patrol snack as Batman. It's a chocolate bar wrapped in a tortilla. The chocolate melts onto his gloves and he drops the tortilla down a sewer grate

Age 24: He makes an ice cream cookie sandwich to eat while he and Batgirl work on a case, but he's so engrossed in the work that he doesn't notice it melt until Babs points it out

Age 25: He enters the first annual Justice League cook-off and immediately gets banned from ever entering again

Age 26: He tries to comfort little Dickie Grayson by making fried cornbread from a book of Roma comfort recipes. It turns out about as well as you'd expect when you give Bruce Wayne hot oil. Bruce is genuinely bummed out, but Dick says it's the thought that counts

Age 27: Clark delivers a huge hunk of beef from the farm. Instead of waiting for Alfred to come back, Bruce and Dick try to break it down with a power saw

Age 28: Bruce and Dick's latkes are burned so badly they can play floor hockey with them

Age 29: He makes stuffed mushrooms. Badly. Like imagine the worst way you can fuck up a mushroom. It still won't compare to what Bruce did. And it's for a potluck with the West-Allens that Barry won't let him live down

Age 30: Bruce sees Dick struggling to make ravioli and he's like "Let me show you how it's done" before proceeding to make it infinitely worse

Age 31: Bruce sees a hungry Jason Todd and the first thing he does when they return to the manor is make a double-decker bread sandwich. That's bread with two more slices of bread in between

Age 32: Bruce packs Dick and Jason's lunchboxes when Alfred is out of town. They're supposed to include a salad. Instead, Dick gets a whole head of lettuce and Jason's is just a bottle of ranch

Age 33: He makes hot chocolate after patrol... but forgets the chocolate

Age 34: The Manor is too cold, so Bruce tries to warm it up by making Jason's favorite soup. His hands shake the whole time. Suddenly, he's eight years old again, sitting on the kitchen floor surrounded by scraps reminding him of his failure

Age 35: Jack and Janet Drake are out of the country again, leaving young Timmy by himself. Bruce decides to bring some dinner over. It's baked perfectly, but it's full of things that shouldn't be anywhere near a casserole dish. They end up ordering takeout and watching old detective movies together

Age 36: Steph walks through how to make waffles. Bruce is standing there, watching closely and taking notes. They still come out looking radioactive

Age 37: Cass asks if they can get smoothies. Bruce says he can make them at home. She gives him a warning look but that's not enough to stop him. Cue Bruce forgetting to put the lid on the blender

Age 38: Jason's first night back at home, Bruce tries to make that soup. It shoots out like a geyser and hits the lights. He's panicking until he hears Jason laugh, and then the soup doesn't matter

Age 39: Damian screws up hummus and he desperately tries to hide it so people won't see him as inadequate at something so basic. Instead of getting upset, Bruce assures him it's okay and offers to fix it. (He doesn't fix it, he just makes it worse)

Age 40: Bruce's birthday happens while he's fake-dead and away from home. He grabs a convenience store cupcake and sticks a single candle on it. Then he closes his eyes, pretends his family is around him, and makes a wish. (The candle droops and sets the hotel sheets on fire)

Age 41: Back at the Manor, he attempts to make lemonade on a particularly hot day. Selina offers to help, but Bruce declines, saying, "How hard can it be?" (Spoiler alert: it's not supposed to be full of seeds)

Age 42: Kate shows him a video of Canadians pouring maple syrup into the snow to make candy, so he gets her to boil the syrup so they can do it together. The problem comes when they can't control the pour and end up with a glob the size of Damian

Age 43: As part of a school project, Bruce and Duke try to deduce the Coca-Cola secret formula. Duke's teacher takes a point off because at the beginning he told her he'd taste the results, but there's no way he's doing that now

Age 44: The family gets together to make a full English breakfast Alfred's birthday. Each person takes a part—Dick has eggs, Jason has the grilled tomatoes, Tim has mushrooms, Duke has the bacon, Steph and Cass are tag-teaming the sausages, Damian just has to open a can of beans, and Bruce needs to put bread in the toaster. It goes South immediately when Damian reaches for his katana instead of the can opener

Age 45: Bruce puts tinfoil in the microwave. Alfred shakes his head and laughs

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angstyx · 1 year

Note

one where the reader donates some money to get a tts message to play? (gender neutral, wilbur, fundy, and karl or more if you can ^^)

Reactions to You Donating to Them

Includes: George, Wilbur Soot, Fundy, Karl, Tommy, Sapnap

TW: cursing, small cringe? idk

Requested?: [Yes] [No]

Note: i didnt know if you wanted platonic or romantic so i did a mix of them

also ngl this was fun and i had a bunch of ideas so let me know if you want a part 2

and hey, been a while hasn’t it? This has been finished for a while I just didn’t feel like posting it

Masterlist // Rules for Requesting ───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────

George

« [username] donated $10! » “hi babe can do me a favor and go get the food I just ordered <33"

he's literally so confused from how random the message was

you knew he was streaming so of course you had to tease him

chat is laughing and telling george to listen to you and to go get the food

"[name]... you're literally in the room next to mine. You could get it yourself."

« [username] donated $10! » “shhh don't expose me like that and fyi im binge watching my favorite show rn so i'm busy"

literally deadpans at the camera

"[name] i'm literally streaming right now"

« [username] donated $15! » "aw okay :(( well no mcdonalds for you then... and i was hoping i could feed you too </3 "

blushes from your teasing

chat is going wild. i repeat. chat is going wild

[dsmp_fan] "george listen to [name] and get the mcdonalds so they can feed it to you >:/"

in the end he gave in and got the mcdonalds for you

chat wouldnt let him live the moment down but hey at least he got to eat some french fries

Wilbur Soot

« [username] donated $20! » "wilbur open the fucking door right now"

"huh [name]? what are you talking about?"

« [username] donated $10! » "i was bored so now i'm outside your office cause i want to be on your stream. now open the fucking door"

"say less"

literally RUNS to the door to open it without giving it a second thought

he was still un-muted though so chat could barely hear the conversations between you too

"why are you here [name]? and... why do you have a box of cookies with you"

"like i said i was bored and did i forget to say i'm hungry?"

"it's 2am"

"yet you're streaming?"

"touché"

Fundy

« [username] donated $15! » "babe what do you want for lunch"

"oh hey [name]! uh i'm not sure. what do you have in mind?"

« [username] donated $10! » "well we can either go out or have it sent to us"

"well i think we both know what's the better option"

« [username] donated $10! » "doordash it is. how does [your favorite restaurant/food] sound?

"perfect"

the viewers who were new to his streams were absolutely confused

was this normal? do you two usually communicate like this? with you just donating to him?

the viewers who always watched his streams were used to it

it happened almost every other stream basically

Karl

« [username] donated $30! » "KARL!! MY FAVORITE STREAMER AND MY BEST FRIEND!! :D"

a huge smile appears on his face the second he reads your donation and message

"[name]!!! MY BEST FRIEND!! HOW ARE YOU DOING?"

quackity who was in a call with karl couldnt help but fake-gasp

i mean basically everyone knows he loves to be dramatic

"KARL I THOUGHT I WAS YOUR BEST FRIEND" D:

« [username] donated $20! » "shut up quackity :/ karl is my best friend, go find a new one. oh and i'm doing good karl"

karl just laughs while quackity fake sobs and starts cursing at you

« [username] donated $10! » "karl can i join the call? it'll be easier to talk to quackity "

"uh sure... no yelling please"

« [username] donated $20! » "no promises"

the second you joined, you began cursing and yelling at quackity

like you said, no promises

Tommy

« [username] donated $10! » "hey idiot, can i join your stream"

"first of all, how dare you call me a idiot and second of all, no"

« [username] donated $10! » "why not"

couldnt help but scoff at your message as chat begs tommy to let you join

chat absolutely loves the banter between you two though it usually ended in tommy's mom yelling at him from how loud he was cursing into the mic

"because i said so"

« [username] donated $50! » "what if i give you money"

"that won't make me change my mind"

« [username] donated $10! » "okay fine :/ how about i stop being annoying to you"

he was actually thinking hard about this one

not even joking

"wait actually? hmm... what do you think chat?"

« [username] donated $10! » "hurry up and decide"

"okay fine, you can join"

« [username] donated $10! » "yay :D"

*queue you joining the call*

"I never said how long i'll stop being annoying so ha hey you bitch"

*queue you being kicked from the call*

« [username] donated $1! » "fuck you"

Sapnap

« [username] donated $10! » "did you eat my ice cream"

literally looked at the donation message for a second before immediately looking away

the guilt is clearly on his face

"I don't know what you're talking about. I never saw any ice cream in your mini-fridge."

« [username] donated $10! » "huh strange, I never mentioned it being in my mini-fridge"

oh shit

he's done for

"uh well i guessed cause i always see food in there like ice cream"

« [dsmp_fan] donated $5! » "stop fucking lying sapnap"

"how could you betray me like this, chat. I swear i didnt take your ice cream [name]"

« [username] donated $10! » "fine i believe you"

"thank you"

...

« [username] donated $10! » "you fucker i literally see the empty ice cream pint on the table behind you"

───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────

Taglist: @thenotsohottopic @0littlem0-0 @bi-narystars @707xn @sakurapartridge @ryxjxnnx @boiciph3r @maxiewritesfanfic @nightwalkercrescent @missusstark @multifandomgirl-us @sophia902103 @sunnyxlove @marrymetheonott @voidgonemissing @alec- lost-bee @ttakinou @izuruus @chaoticotaku @joyfullymulti @oh-mcyt @sxltedcxramel @dawnfallx @blushingduckling @blueberrystigma @youngstarfishdinosaur @poookii @beepbopbee @dazedgxth @wrenqueenisboss @saturnhas82moons @itsonlydana @comonlokbut2 @lacunaanonymoused @sirsleeps @toodeepintofandoms @sparkletash @luluwinchester @buckyswhxre @jadecameron69420 @sarahwasfound @isaac-foster-my-beloved @dukina @arcanine-doves @auralol

Send in a ask or dm me to be added! | bolded means you either changed your url or your settings makes it so I cant tag you

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flowersandbigteeth · 1 year

Text

Your monster husband comes home from work

General Plot: Your monster husband gets home from work and you have dinner ready and waiting for him

Tentacle monster (Chase) x Bimbo female reader

Word Count: 1.5Kish

Part Two

W: smut, tentacle sex, anal and oral sex, pet names, bimboification, yandere behavior, manipulation

Your husband walked into the kitchen, loosening his tie as he went. It had been a long day preparing sacrifices for his boss’s glorious rebirth. He’d had to scrub for at least five minutes to get the blood from underneath his nails before he came home to you.

“Hi honey!” you beamed, holding a plate of freshly fried chicken and placing it on the table, “how was work? Did the Miller account get finished?”

He glanced at your ass as you bent over, before you scurried back to the counter to get the sweet tea. A smile came to his lips as he tried to remember what he’d made up to tell you the Miller account was. He played stupid games with himself coming up with ridiculous lies to tell his innocent, but incredibly stupid wife.

You thought he was an accountant at a private security firm. That’s what he’d convinced you the building his villainous leader used to perform his twisted experiments and house his prisoners was after you’d showed up at the front door one day with treats for the office. His monstrous coworkers had all been very amused by his tiny wife standing at the front desk in mittens and her winter hat holding a tray of cookies while he scrambled to stuff his hideous form back into his suit to greet you. Of course, you didn’t know any of that.

“Everything is going as planned, the zebras should reach their new homes shortly,” he mentioned pulling his suit jacket off of his broad shoulders and stalking you across the room. His steps were surprisingly light for someone so large and you jumped when he appeared behind you.

“Thank goodness the poachers can’t get to them, your company does incredible work,” you said and thought you heard him chuckle, but when you turned to look at him he was just coughing into his hand.

“How was your day, cupcake?” he asked, wrapping his big arms around you.

You breathed in his familiar scent as he folded himself down to you and pressed his lips to yours.

“It was good, sit down, relax!” you playfully pushed him away from you as he came in for another kiss, “I went to the grocery store and called the contractor about remodelling the kitchen.”

His eyes glazed over as he listened to you retell him your incredibly boring conversation about kitchen tiles while he imagined you naked spread across the table. You picked up a plastic pitcher of ice water from the counter and crossed the room to set it down, not seeing him stick out his foot to trip you. You stumbled face first into the tile floor pouring ice water down the front of your shirt with a squeal.

“Oh baby! Are you okay?” he asked, pulling you up by your shoulders and spinning you around in his big hands. His concerned eyes drifted from your face down to your hard nipples poking through your soaked sweater. He ran his thick thumb over a pebbled nub, hiding his smile.

Embarrassed tears came to your eyes at your own clumsiness and you blushed. Chase was so handsome and capable. You were always embarrassing yourself in front of him.

“You have to be more careful my clumsy little wife,” he chided you, “let’s get you out of this wet thing.”

He tugged your sweater over your head leaving you just in the little skirt you had on.

“I’ll go get a shirt,” you mumbled, trying to slide around him, but he stopped you with a firm hand on your waist.

“You’re cold,” he murmured, his eyes focused on your chest. His hands slid up your body to cup your breasts, his thumbs flicking your stiff nipples.

“Chase…” you started.

“Shhhh”

He pulled you down to straddle his lap as he sat down in a dining chair sucking one into his mouth. You moaned, grinding yourself into him without meaning to.

“Chase, I think-”

His hand tightened on your back and he glanced up.

“What did I tell you about thinking?” he asked, his voice gravelly.

You gulped under his intense gaze, you swore for a second his pupils changed shape, but when you blinked they were large, but round.

“Hmm?” he prompted.

“Y-your w-wife doesn’t need to think,” you repeated what he’d told you as his teeth prickled your nipple, nibbling it. They always felt sharper than they looked.

He grunted, pleased.

“That’s a good girl,” he cooed into your chest, his fingers drifting underneath your skirt and dragging against your lips, “You’re just a pretty little set of holes for me to fill, aren’t you?”

You bucked your hips into his hand, unable to resist what he wanted to give you. His thick cock hardened beneath you and you pressed your pussy into him whimpering like a greedy slut.

“Take it out,” he said, pausing a moment from lapping at your nipples, “I know you want it.”

You fumbled with his fly, and his cock popped out, slapping your mound. Precum dripped down the shaft in white ropes making a mess of your panties. He seemed to have more than any other man, but you hadn’t been with anyone but him so what did you know?

“Put it inside of you,” his tongue was all over your oversensitive tits and you would have done anything he told you at that moment. You lifted your hips and tried to lower yourself on his massive shaft, shoving your panties to the side. Though you’d had sex with your husband many times, you’d never quite adjusted to how big he was and it took some effort of you to push yourself down on top of him.

“Do you need help, cupcake?” he chuckled.

You nodded, your cheeks pinkening with embarrassment. Your husband deserved a wild sex kitten. You tried your best, but you could barely fit him inside of you!

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes eating you up. He thought you were adorable, barely able to fit the tip into your tiny cunt. Stroking your cheek he thrust up into you forcing a shout from your lips and tears to your eyes. You could feel him in your stomach as he clutched your hips, forcing you down onto him. Throwing your arms around his neck, your pussy clung to his fat cock.

Chase wasn’t sure why this time was any different from any other time he’d taken you. Maybe it was the little skirt you’d been wearing, maybe it was how cute your blush was when you’d tried to stuff him inside of you, but suddenly he wanted to possess you. Yes, you were his wife, but he’d never really taken you. You’d never seen what he truly was.

It had always been a regret of his, that he’d never showed you, but you were just so sweet; all sunshine and rainbows. He’d been afraid he would scare you off. Despite that, as he watched you writhing in front of him he couldn’t hold his monster inside anymore. It slipped out a little bit at a time.

It started with a nudge at your asshole and at first you thought it was Chase’s finger, but it felt…different, thicker and a bit slimy. Your eyes shut as it forced its way inside of you and you collapsed against Chase’s chest panting.

“Ch-Chase,” You moaned into him, confused but not exactly wanting whatever was happening to stop.

“You trust me, right cupcake?” he murmured into your hair as whatever was inside of you started thrusting firmly in and out, going deeper with every stroke.

“Mhmmm,” you whined into his chest, feeling his cock and the tentacle in your ass fill you in perfect synchronisation. Another sticky tentacle stroked your clit, winding and unwinding the tapered tip around it until you whimpered and tears streaked down your cheeks. What felt like wet mouths latched onto your nipples mercilessly sucking.

“Keep your eyes shut,” he grunted, pounding into you like it was the last time.

Something thick and wet nudged at your lips and you instinctively opened your mouth. You trusted Chase completely. Whatever this was…you wanted it. It forced its way down your throat and you gagged. Your eyes popped open at the rough invasion to find your formerly handsome husband transformed into a hideous beast. His massive teeth sparkled in the fluorescent light, while his six eyes were squeezed shut in ecstasy.

“Flkjdg!” You screamed, coming in a surprising and incredible orgasm.

You sagged in his tentacles while he used your holes to chase his pleasure, watching him in awe. He was nothing like you'd ever seen before with mottled green skin and an odd frill around his neck.

His eyes focused on you and he froze as you took each other in.

“(Y/N),” he murmured, his voice lower and more gravelly than normal.

The tentacle in your mouth slipped out and you whined.

“Don’t you dare fucking stop Chase!”

You were so close to coming again to your monster of a husband fucking you. An eerie grin spread across his face and he stuffed his tentacle back in your mouth to regain his previous pace.

“Is my dumb little wife a monster fucking slut?” he growled into your ear as he ravaged your body. The tentacles on your clit and nipples sucked harder, sending you to the clouds.

You nodded your head at him and your doe eyes with his tentacle shoved between your lips pushed him over the edge. Cum spewed out of all of his tentacles covering you in sticky fluid. You orgasmed with cum running out of all of your holes.

The tentacle down your throat retreated and Chase replaced it with his mouth on yours. His kiss was gentle despite his sharp teeth.

“You really didn’t have to keep this from me,” you panted into his lips.

“But it was so easy,” he chuckled. You punched him weakly in his big chest.

“I’m sorry,” he said, rubbing your back with one tentacle, while another massaged your scalp, “do you forgive me?”

“If you keep fucking me like that,” you agreed.

Chase thanked the dark god that he’d married a simple woman, wrapping you up in his tentacles.

“I think I ruined dinner,” he said, giving something close to a frown with his perpetual smile and looking at the cum drenching the chicken.

“Let’s order pizza,” you sighed against his chest, hoping you could get a nap before it arrived.

#monster fucker #monster smut #monster x girl #monster #monster romance #monster x human #monster lover #male yandere #yandere smut #dumbification #bimboification #tentacle monster #tentacles #eldrich horror

2K notes · View notes

catindabag · 5 months

Text

TBOSAS on Crack short take (43)

Coral: I’ll be honest, our Menders-

Lucy Gray: Mentors.☺️

Coral: *glares at Lucy Gray* Our Menders might be a bunch of drunk idiots, but their gift baskets and cookies were delicious.

Otto: True. I can’t seem to stop eating the blueberry flavored ones.

Mizzen: Hey, does anyone want to donate their shares to me-

Panlo: For the last time, 4, we are not giving you our shares!

Mizzen: Why?!

Panlo: You know why!

Mizzen: Seriously, I don’t-

Ginnee: You literally stole and ate half of our goods already!

Dill: You also stole and ate Wovey’s last cookie.

Mizzen: That was Brandy!

Brandy: No, it wasn’t! I was too busy stealing and eating Reaper’s-

Reaper: That was you, 10?!

Brandy: See! I told you I was committing a totally different crime at that time.

Mizzen: Fine. It was me.

Reaper: You heartless little shi-

Mizzen: But you guys weren’t eating them!

Treech: Obviously, we were saving them for later!

Mizzen: But I’m hungry.🥺

Reaper: How are you still hungry?! You literally stole all of Lamina’s cookies!

Mizzen: But I thought she didn’t want them-

Reaper: Look at her! She’s still crying over them!

Lamina: My cookies!😭

Mizzen: Well, we can always wait for pretty boy (Coryo) and his rich boyfriend (Sejanus) to give us more food-

Marcus: Please stop mentioning idiot Plinth in front of me and my stale bread.

Treech: Why, Marcus? Are you embarrassed to see your friend again-

Marcus: Idiot Plinth is not my friend!😠

Lucy Gray: But you still ate the cookies he gave you-

Marcus: I ate them out of spite!

Coral: And you’re also invited to their upcoming wedding-

Marcus: Don’t remind me!

Circ: I’ll go to their wedding if you don’t.

Lucy Gray: Me too!

Mizzen: Free food is free food.

Marcus: Ughhh! Why are you supporting crazy Plinth and his pretty blonde boyfriend?!

Lucy Gray: FYI, Coryo’s hair is not blonde. It’s white as snow-

Marcus: You’re even using his stupid nickname!

Lucy Gray: We’re best friends.☺️

Marcus: Since when?!

Lucy Gray: Since the moment I promised Coryo and Sejanus that I’ll sing ✨Snow On The Beach✨ and ✨Lover✨ on their wedding day.😌💅

Marcus: Don’t say his name!

Lucy Gray: Sejanus.

Marcus: I hate you-

Sejanus: Hi, guys!😊

Tanner: What the heck?!

Jessup: How did you get in here?!

Coryo: My fiancé payed the Peacekeepers to let us in.

Coral: That’s allowed?!

Lucy Gray: Hi, Coryo!

Coryo: Hey, Birdy.

Sejanus: Hi, Marcus!

Marcus: I ain’t Marcus!

Sejanus: But-

Lucy Gray: I thought you guys were punished by your Dean for ruining your fancy school’s reputation?

Sejanus: We were!😀

Coryo: And this is our punishment.

Treech: To annoy us?!

Coryo: Unfortunately, no. But we were ordered by ✨The Academy✨ to bring you guys some food and supplies.

Lucy Gray: How did you even get your fancy school to support us?

Coryo: ✨Ravinstill Nepotism✨.

Reaper: Ravinstill?!

Coryo: It’s the most powerful name in the Capitol.

Coral: So where are they, Blondie? Where’s my cheesecake and burgers?

Coryo: Well, I was thinking about asking you guys what you want to eat because Sejanus said that we could order takeouts today.

Dill: What’s a takeout?

Coryo: Basically, you order the food that you want to eat and someone will deliver it here for you.

Lucy Gray: We can order anything?!

Coryo: Anything. My boyfriend is rich AF.

Sejanus: Order what you want, Coryo, my love, my Snow Angel!😍

Coryo: See. I told you he’ll pay for it.

Tanner: Must be nice to be Plinth’s sugar baby-

Coryo: Boyfriend.

Tanner: Sugar-

Coryo: Boyfriend.

Tanner: Baby.

Lucy Gray: Fiancé!😀

Sejanus: Husband!😘

Mizzen: I want a stuffed salmon with lemon sauce on the side!

Coral: One roasted lobster and hash browns for me!

Tanner: Baby back ribs with fries!

Dill: Green Bean Casserole!

Jessup: One stuffed turkey!

Panlo: A grilled cheese sandwich!

Lucy Gray: Smashed Potatoes with love on the side!😘

Lamina: My cookies!😭

Brandy: Chicken! A whole ass chicken!

Coryo: Slow down! I can’t keep up with all of you shouting at the same time!

Wovey: Can we order a whole serving of Apple Berry Pie?

Coryo: Anything for you, sweetie.

Sejanus: How about you, Marcus?

Marcus: I’m on diet.

Sejanus: But-

Coryo: Babe, let me do it.

Sejanus: Ok.😞

Coryo: How about you, Marcus?

Marcus: Give me a hundred chicken nuggets. I’m hungry.🥺

254 notes · View notes

chuuyanakaharalegalwife · 5 months

Text

Negotiation (Dazai x Reader)

Pushing the chubby Dazai agenda, he's so cute! Look at his little belly, im gonna cry it's so cute!! Missing him terribly.

In which we bribe him with affection and feed him

Read my other dazai oneshots here & here This has been in my draft for soo long, but I got a job and forgot about it. Happy late Diwali!

Bye now - Mars ♡

Out of everything you saw yourself doing this year, dating an overdramatic enigmatic manchild who whines like a baby was not one of them.

How did you get here? You started officially dating Dazai a few months ago, you two were exclusive. Before that you probably fooled around for a year, flirting here and there, and going on dates, random hook ups but somewhere along the way, you fell for each other. Hard.

It did have a trial and error period and you did have to set some firm boundaries, because as much as fooling around with him was fun, you craved the security of knowing this wasn’t some meaningless fling to him.

Fast forward to being exclusive with Dazai, he’s an amazing partner. His genius brain is quick to pick up on even the smallest changes and he reads you like an open book. He’s affectionate and he always finds money, granted never his own, to spend on you. He’s great in bed and he’s sweet with words. The list goes on. He’s almost perfect.

However, he’s not the best at opening up, he can talk your ear off without revealing a single thing about his mind. His heart. He also tends to neglect himself very much, at first you thought it was just temporary work stress but even when he’s away from work he does it.

At first you noticed how he only puts in efforts when you’re around, and the longer your relationship went on, the less effort he made. The biggest issue you have is how he so carelessly skips meals. It makes you angry but after some thoughts and rants to your cat, you’ve decided to bribe him.

You wanted to be subtle about it but honestly, he probably already picked up on it. You’re convinced he just allows you to do what you want.

You started off small and your plan was to gradually build him up to regular meals.

The first time you did it, it was as simple as feeding him a bite from your snack. A simple yogurt bowl with fruits and a “Mm, try this, it’s good” and stuffing his mouth with a spoonful of yogurt and berries.

That became a regular habit you did, giving him small bites of your snacks whether that be protein bars, cookies, chocolates. This then transferred into your meals, purposefully adding more to your plate so you can whine about not finishing it and offering the rest to him so he can.

That didn’t last long, he quickly caught on your little act and urge you to feed it to your cat instead.

Then the brilliant idea of bribing him with kisses and affection to eat came about. It started with an argument and then you two not speaking for two days. Angry as you were, you decided to deny him of your hugs and you two slept with you backs to each other, you slept at least. Dazai stayed up and drank his feelings. The second night he didn’t even come home, God knows where he were.

The third day you two resolved your little conflict and with some probing, sweet words, kissing and negotiation you got Dazai to eat at least one full meal a day.

You both agreed on that. Baby steps, one meal a day, it’s better than drinking alcohol and eating tinned crab almost every day.

Right now, you were both on the couch, you on his lap with his arms lazily slung around you. You had a small bowl of rice and stir-fried vegetables along with some eggs.

You held the chopsticks up to his lips and looks at him in his eyes, “Please” you looked down at his lips, “For me” you watched as he hesitantly opened his mouth and took the food and chewed and swallowed.

Placing a kiss on his forehead you praised him for his first bite.

Then you repeated that until the bowl of food was almost finished, feeding him, kissing him, praising him.

After he managed to finish, you placed the bowl down and caress his cheeks, “You did so good, m’proud” you mumbled and kisses him. Your hands cupped his face, lips brushing against his cheeks, the tip of his nose, the crease of his brows, his temple, his jawline. Just anywhere your lips found, you placed sweet kisses.

He smiled and you felt like you’d melt away and fall off the couch if it weren’t for his arms around you. “Thank you, Bella” He mumbles quietly, and you can’t help but capture his lips in another sweet kiss. You feel his hands squeeze your waist, pulling you closer to him as he desperately returns your kiss.

He pulls away from you, his brows furrowed, and he belched and it catches you off guard. Dazai looks at you, awaiting your reaction and when he saw your smile and heard a little giggle, it triggered his own smile.

“I really am proud of you, Osamu”

#marswrites #dazai osamu #dazai fluff #bsd dazai #bsd x reader #dazai x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bsd fluff #eat your veggies #food is good #chubbydazaiagenda

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daytaker · 6 days

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Chat Log: A Human Child Arrives in the Devildom

Beelzebub: I don’t remember. Beelzebub: I don't remember that either. Mammon: Oi, Beel, what the hell are you saying? Satan: That isn’t Beel. It’s “the new human exchange student”. Mammon: Why are ya sayin’ that in quotes? Satan: You’ll see. Mammon: The hell does that mean?! Beelzebub: I fell. Beelzebub: I fell out a tree and then I was here. Lucifer: Satan, Asmo, Beel. I thought I said to look after the human child. Why is it sending nonsense in the chat? Asmo: It can’t talk, so we’re asking it questions out loud and having it answer like this! Lucifer: Why did you not create a new chat where you could interrogate it without annoying the rest of us? Satan: Convenience. This chat already existed. Mammon: Whoa whoa whoa, did you say human CHILD? Why the hell did you guys recruit a child? Lucifer: We didn’t. Something appears to have gone wrong in the summoning process. Barbatos is attempting to resolve the issue as we speak. Mammon: Is the kid still in the chat? Asmodeus: Yes, Beel loaned it his phone. Mammon: Hey kid, ya like ice cream? Beelzebub: Yes. Mammon: Well, I got a massive chocolate cone for any human kid who’s willing to come hang out around the central plaza for a few hours. Demons’ll pay good money to get a look at a genuine human child. Mammon: Hey, Asmo, is it cute? Beelzebub: They want me to tell you I'm not going anywhere with you. Asmodeus: Yeah, leave the poor thing alone! It probably misses its parents! Asmodeus: And yes, it’s adorable! ♡ Mammon: Good, folks’ll pay more for that. Leviathan: Whaaaaaat? Sorry, just backread, but wow! You guys isekai’d a BABY to RAD? LOLOLOLOL Beelzebub: I’m not a baby. Lucifer: I apologize for the delay in sending this message. I was occupied with Diavolo and Barbatos. Lucifer: Mammon, if you take that child out in public and it gets eaten, I will flay you alive. Beelzebub: Do demons eat kids? Mammon: Yep. Mammon: They’re pretty freakin’ delicious too. Way better than old people. Mammon: ‘Cause they’re softer. Lucifer: Shut up and listen. Lucifer: Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem as if this issue is going to be resolved as quickly as I had hoped. Lucifer: Mammon, if I leave you in charge of the human until tomorrow, do you think you can keep it alive? Mammon: What? Why me? Ain’t Asmo and Satan there already? Lucifer: I hesitate to entrust a child to either Asmo or Satan for any extended period of time due to certain personality defects each of them possess. Asmodeus: Rude!!! Mammon: What about Beel? Lucifer: Beel would certainly eat it. Mammon: …Yeah, I guess that’s fair. Lucifer: Satan, Asmo, Beel. Please take the human to the school gates and wait for Mammon to retrieve it. In the meantime, Diavolo has graciously offered to lend it the D.D.D. he had prepared for the original transfer student, so stop by the dean’s office to pick it up. Asmodeus: Fine, we're going. Mammon: I really gotta do this, huh? Lucifer: Yes. Mammon: :( Leviathan: LOLOLOLOL!!! This is hilarious! Lucifer: Don't think I've forgotten about you, Levi. I'd like you to prepare a few dishes Barbatos says are in vogue with human children. Leviathan: Wait, are you making me its personal chef? Mammon: Ha! Serves ya right! Leviathan: Shut up, Mammon. Lucifer: Macaroni and cheese. Lucifer: Chicken tenders/nuggets (in the shape of dinosaurs, if possible) Leviathan: Dinosaurs? Lucifer: Apple juice. Lucifer: Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Lucifer: French fries. Lucifer: Cheese pizza. Leviathan: Do I have to make all of this right now? Lucifer: Chocolate chip cookies. Lucifer: Human-world grapes. Leviathan: Am I being trolled right now? Lucifer: Absolutely not. Prepare one dish immediately using whatever ingredients we already own. Lucifer: Human, if you are still here, I would like to extend my deepest apologies on behalf of the Royal Academy of Diavolo for this unfortunate mistake. Lucifer: I hope we are able to resolve this in a timely manner.

#obey me #obey me chat #obey me swd #obey me fanfiction #obey me fic #endy #tgmybg #chat log #obey me lucifer #obey me mc #obey me child mc #fanfic #daytaker fanfic #presented without context

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anzulvr · 6 months

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Hiii! Could i please request a karma x reader where reader is a crybaby and really sensitive but also super sweet to everybody no matter how mean they are?

Karma x sensitive reader // <3 // fluff, hcs.

In which Karma catches feelings for a crybaby.

— ୨୧ first meeting.

Karma and you get along well from the start, unlike most people in the main campus you don’t talk badly about E-class and you don’t make any judgements towards people without getting to know them- that’s especially important to note because Karmas never had the best reputation. Even so, you didn’t judge him based off rumors and comments made about him behind his back, earning you his respect!

— catching feelings.

Karma is the last person to be interested in dating, so whenever he starts getting all nervous and flustered around you he thinks he’s nauseous. He only realizes hes into you when he sees he’s sort of defensive over you, definitely brought to his attention by Rio(meddler) or Nagisa (He just wants to help).

✦ any time you’re upset he’s the first to ask who did something, super ready to fight anyone.

✦ He realizes he’s never wanted anyone to stick around as much as you.

—ʚ[End Class]ɞ

(If you were to drop to end class for whatever reason)

// first time meeting Korosensei you’re a sobbing mess.

Even then you’re trying to be nice telling him he’s not that scary (in reality you’re terrified because why is he like 10 feet tall..)

Korosensei frantically tries to get you to stop crying. “I promise I would never lay my tentacles on a student- I wouldn’t hurt you!! You can ask anyone in here I-”

Karma is laughing his ass off to the point he’s gripping his sides cause they hurt.

You get to sit next to him. Lucky (???) you.

The rest of the class is quick to warm up to you, if you’re not already friends that is.

— When you’re officially together.

Hes the biggest tease in existence, he can’t go 20 minutes without poking fun at you.

Has so many pictures and videos of you happy crying. (He will not let you live down.)

Also has a folder of pictures you send him whenever you’re crying over small / dumb things you find funny when you realize what you’re crying over.

(cause literally me too?? I’ll cry and laugh mid way when I realize how stupid it is 😭)

[Name]: we’re out of cookies.

[Attached image of you crying]

lmfao I’ll buy you some calm down💀 :[Karma]

[Name]: NVMM.. false alarm we have another box 😆!!

don’t care I’m at your doorstep with 5 boxes open up :[Karma]

[Name]: Wow you’re fast it’s only been like 3 minutes..

— <3 —

He brings up moments like that anytime he has the chance to embarrass you.

“Remember the time you cried cause you found out chickens live only like seven years.”

“Shut up it was really sad.”

“[Name] we had fried chicken like 20 minutes later and you devoured that shit.”

“That was so good, we should go again.”

ON ANOTHER NOTE.

No one is allowed to make you feel bad though, Terasaka is extra careful not to say anything to make you cry on days where he doesn’t want to end up on the ground.

You’re his go-to for advice. Especially if he’s ever arguing with anyone like his parents or his friends because you know more about emotions than he does.

Cannot handle seeing you upset because of something he does, the second your eyes even get the littlest misty he’s apologizing with food and flowers.

You hold a special place in his heart because often times you’re the only person he’s comfortable opening up to.

A/N: im behind on like 30 requests IM SORRY 😪😪😪

Also I didn’t really check for spelling errors for this one so tell me if you catch any pls!!!

#karma akabane #ansatsu kyoushitsu #akabane karma x reader #assassination classroom x reader #karma akabane headcannons #karma akabane x reader #assasination classroom #karma x reader #assassination classroom #assclass

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wandixx · 2 months

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Ghost of fries and hero of cookies part 5

All work words count: 14 643

Words in this part: 1 685

Summary of whole work: Duke wasn't expecting to wake up from his quick rooftop nap to some meta kid with fries. He also wasn't expecting kid to stay

Danny asked Dani to stay safe while she was in Gotham. Where would she be safer than under the wing of local hero? And he looked like he needed bad day combo anyway

This part summary: Steph finally gets to meet Duke's kid. And she comes bearing gifts!

Beta read by @audhumla-sailor though English is second language for both of us, so proceed with this in mind. I also know all of the charaters through fics alone, so probably ooc. Stay catious if it's something you don't like

First part, Previous part

Duke was really glad that Bruce was busy whole previous evening and couldn’t give him The TalkTM Vigilante edition. Maybe he shouldn’t because B being busy spoke trouble but he couldn’t feel too sad about it. He didn’t want to have The TalkTM though.

For now, Dani was running next to him, with a serious look on her face that was kinda uncanny. She wasn’t supposed to not be happy and some weird instincts were screaming at him to fix it and fix it now. But he didn’t know how!

Though some of his jokes caused a little smile, so it was good.

It turned potentially less good when she stopped without warning, lowering herself to the fighting stance (finally proper, which made him so immensely proud by the way). He stopped too, wishing they wouldn’t have to fight but he knew better than to latch on this hope.

“What’s up, Hoopoe?” he whispered.

“Someone is coming. Light, use grapple” Most likely one of the Bats then, they were due to a visit anyway. However better to not lower his guard in case he was mistaken or it was a prank/test. His expectations were proven right though, when purple blur flipped over the edge of the roof. He relaxed and put hand on Dani’s shoulder so she wouldn’t tackle Steph before they could explain anything. She seemed on edge like that whole day.

“Hey Spoiler” he greeted to further show that the blonde was a friend.

“Sup Signal! Heard I can finally meet your little friend!”

Dani straightened herself and tried to float a few inches up to seem higher probably.

“I’m considerably higher than most kids my age” she deadpanned. She really wasn’t though. He was still trying to learn whether her size was caused more by genetics or malnourishment. Her only family member Duke knew of was also small, so maybe it was a family thing though.

Steph shrugged, waving her palm a few inches below her shoulder, approximately where Damian reached, quite few inches over Dani’s head.

“Robin is the family’s smol violent bean and you’re shorter than him. You’re small bean, deal with this”

Little girl pouted, crossing her arms. Steph cooed.

“Oh, you even get angry like he does!”

Young meta looked like she was asking ‘Should I use violence?’ and inch towards the answer ‘Yes’. Duke decided he should step in before she acted on these thoughts. Teasing was the opposite of what girl needed at the moment. Some good fight might not be bad but maybe not with Steph.

“Cut it Spoiler”

She rolled her eyes so dramatically he could tell she did so despite her mask. He still thought it was impressive “Don’t be boring dude”

Dani growled in a way that couldn’t be fully human, just like she did when they talked about her training for the first time. Duke squeezed her arm. Girl glanced at him before sagging so much he was scared she would fall for a hot second. He exchanged concerned looks with Steph over her lowered head. It was not normal nor was it good.

“Alright, you’re not smol,” Steph agreed lightly “Officially at least. What’s in my head stays there. Does it work for you?”

Duke almost hit her in the arm. Not strongly, in a friendly manner but still. He didn’t only because it seemed to somehow work. He let his hands drop.

“Your mind is sacred,” Dani started seriously “what leaves your mouth is not. Can’t diss you on your thoughts but I’ll on your words” she shared like it was some important truth of life. Or folklore proverb though Duke wasn’t sure about the latter. Afterall he was Gothamite born and breed, he knew countryside from movies “And actions. Actions are kinda important,” meta girl added in lighter tone after moment of thinking.

“Yeah, actions are the best” Steph agreed easily “Hey, can I get it on a T-shirt? I’ll love and cherish it”

“First you laugh at my height and then you want my intellectual property for free? For shame, Spoiler, for shame?”

Steph looked thoughtful, theatrically over exaggerating her body language.

“Valid” she nodded.

Duke decided he would just watch whatever was going to happen and did damage control if needed. He didn’t feel up to anything else anyway.

“Heard your cape went in an adventure,” the purple vigilante admitted after moment of silence. Dani shrugged rubbing her arms awkwardly. Duke knew she normally would fix said cape. It was her way of fidgeting.

“Yup, it’s good way to put it,” girl nodded. “Somebody needed it more, I hope it enjoys its travel. I should get a replacement soon”

“Well, I can’t let fellow caped crusader, who understands necessity of hood, run capeless”

Younger girl waved her hands in a flurry motion of dismissal.

“Don’t-” she stopped when her eyes locked on orange bundle Steph took from somewhere under her cloak. Opportunity to pull tricks like that had made Duke consider adding some sort of cape to his Signal suit back when he had been working on it back in a day but dismissed it. He still wasn’t looking forward to learning curve of fighting with such additional liability. He couldn’t turn it intangible when it was in a way like certain white haired cheater did.

Speaking of Dani, girl stared at Steph’s gift like she couldn’t quite believe it was real. She held her hands close to her chest but her fingers flexed in grabby motion. Her eyes were hidden behind black lenses of her mask but everything else about her face further proved how awestruck she was. Even her muted aura brightened a bit in a way that he learned to recognize as excitement.

It was still kind of weird, by the way. Normal auras haven’t changed, it was kinda their thing.

Steph wiggled her gift a bit. Dani finally took it but had yet to put it on.

“It’s for me?” she whispered so utterly shocked and small that Duke mentally did a double take.

“Yeah, like I said, can’t let you run around without it”

“Oh”

Dani’s hand was gnawing at the edge of the material as if it was some sort of squashmellow.

“Try it on,” Steph encouraged gently.

“We need to check if Spoiler haven’t messed up something”

“Signal!”

Dani snorted, which was all Duke tried to achieve.

She put it on and after a moment of shuffling she once again became orange cloak with feet. She grinned widely looking far more relaxed and settled than she did moments before. She moved around a bit like she was in model show or at least what ten years old thought it could look like.

“You like it?”

“Yup, it’s amazing, thank you Spoiler… Though it’s heavier than I expected”

“Well, I don’t know what your first one was made out of but this is material I use, I found it the best balance between durability, weight and comfiness. Still, it’s quite dense and a bit heavy. Also, I added pockets because you can never have too many of them. Plus there are few glitter bombs inside. You know, ‘welcome to the team’ gifts,” Steph explained eagerly and judging by Dani’s smile, she loved her gifts. Duke would be a little worried on a Gotham crime’s behalf if it wasn’t well, crime and if he wasn’t all there to watch chaos these two would unfold from sidelines with bat-popcorn in hand (though it wasn’t really a thing yet, he would have to mention it to Tim or Jason). For now though, they really should continue on the patrol.

“Now that introductions are over, let’s get going. Crime never sleeps or something,” It was really weird to be the organized one. Before Dani showed up, on a day shift he was a sailor, a captain and a ship (or maybe Gotham was a ship-), We Are Robins days were chaos in purest form and shape and when he was called out for a night he usually was too tired to behave and was just additional mess to organize (on purpose, let him have his goddamn sleep, he wasn’t Tim).

“Okay,” Dani agreed cheerfully “There is a robbery at the greek diner we visited last Thursday. ‘s been going for five minutes or so,” she added unbothered.

“HOOPOE!”

“What?”

***

Spoiler jumped through the open window of the diner with a graceful roll, glitter bombs at hand. Hoopoe and Signal came inside right after her.

“Spoiler alert!” purple girl yelled, throwing two bombs at robbers heads and kicking third one in the ribs.

Dani decided that she liked Spoiler right then and there as she threw her own brand new, orange(!) glitter bombs at remaining criminal.

***

Three of them were running through the city mostly uninterrupted after diner mishap. Steph tried to engage Dani in quip battle but younger girl for once wasn’t jumping on occasion. She kept close to Duke and his only reaction was smug smile in Spoiler’s direction. That’s what she got for trying to steal his sidekick.

“Oh!” Dani exclaimed delighted, stopping abruptly, a smile that spoke trouble gracing her face.

“No, we’re not busting Joker’s scheme by jumping into the meeting to beat them all up without proper back up, again, Hoopoe. They had guns, Hoopoe.”

“Wha- Wasn’t last time enough? Anyway, I heard there is fan meeting with Martian Manhunter in Los Angeles tomorrow,” Great, so no giving him heart attack right now. Thank God for that.

“Shame he won’t make it, huh?” Steph mussed “He is in Illinois right now, isn’t he? It would take him two days driving to even get there”

Dani’s expression looked thoughtful “It’s quite far”

“Yeah, around… 2,500 miles from here”

“Huh”

“What got you thinking kid?” she inquired, ruffling her hair.

“Not a kid and I thought- there is kidnapping at three!” Dani darted in that direction before finishing sentence. Duke jumped right after her slightly scared. She was not ready to handle stuff like that without back up and she would try if he let her run of like that.

********

Steph: I'm meeting my almost niece tomorrow what should I- *gives a gremlin child an ultimate weapon of chaos*

Sometime before this part:

Steph: So, how is your kid?

Duke: She is not my kid!

Duke: By the way, wanna see video I saved of her doing proper side kick for the first time?

Danielle "looks like 10 years old is 10 months max" Phantom: I am in fact much higher than most kids my age

Duke "whoever is feeding this tiny child does bad job at it" Thomas & Stephanie "it's just a lil baby" Brown: Yeah... sure...

Next part

"Tag list" (i haven't expected to ever make it)

@pickleking8

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dani hangs out with duke #signal got new kid and cares about her deeply #dani took so long to tell them about robbery because she didn't like their food and is petty little gremlin #dani says most and not all because she knows vlad is incapable of coming up with something original #so there had to be other clones around #and they probably were higher than here #with her being prematurly released (hence why she is younger than danny)#and fact that danny is short #now that i think about it #dani is opossite of “this is 43567 year old demon acting like child in a body of the child” trope #but baby enough to not risk “born sexy yesterday” area #perfect #wandixx writes #ghost of fries and hero of cookies #have a nice day dear stranger who got to this part

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