#Wine-infused dishes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hunnylagoon · 6 months

Note

hey! I want to request a fluffy one shot about ellie being a parent with the reader. The rest is in your hands, write what comes to ur mind!

Small Hands

Summary: People say that the magic disappears when you have children, that never applied to you and Ellie, you are just as hopelessly in love as the day you were married. You celebrate Christmas with your friends and family despite a few bumps in the road.

A/N: I usually don’t fuck with kids but this concept actually seemed really cute to me. This chapter is a bit shorter, sorry if it’s rushed, I wrote this while studying for my exams. Thank you for requesting! If anyone else has requests, feel free to leave them and I will get around to them! There is the smallest teensiest weensiest smidgen of a angst in the middle but it comes from a third party. Warning for mentions of postpartum depression

The air was infused with the spicy aroma of gingerbread and the warm glow of twinkling lights as a group of friends gathered for their annual Christmas party. The cozy living room, adorned with tinsel and stockings, echoed with laughter and the jingling of bells. The adults, each holding a mug of steaming cocoa (with a splash of Bailey's), exchanged stories of the year gone by while the children, eyes wide with wonder, eagerly awaited the arrival of Santa Claus.

The living room sparkled with the joy of reunion, as friends who had become family over the years shared in the holiday spirit. You being the hostess of the party, had a flair for festive decorations, you had turned your home into a winter wonderland, complete with a towering Christmas tree and a crackling fireplace. "Levi, get away from there!" Your eyes went wide and you slammed your mug onto the coffee table before you ran to retrieve your son who was wearing an elf onesie and had been attempting to pull out bottles from the wine rack. Your friends and family laughed at the scene "Geez," You grabbed him from beneath his arms and scooped him up, quickly bringing him close to your chest. He had just turned four and was rapidly getting too big for you to carry him. You put him on the ground and ushered him toward the game room telling him to go play with his sister while all of the children were playing some kind of board game or watching the Polar Express. "Where is your mother?" You mutter under your breath, gaze suddenly focusing on the sink full of dishes, you sigh and walk towards them, figuring it easier to get them done now as opposed to when the part has ended and you're too exhausted to do so.

In the tranquil kitchen, the rhythmic cadence of water splashing and the clink of porcelain against stainless steel create a melodic backdrop as you diligently tend to the post-dinner ritual of washing dishes, humming along to the song 'Last Christmas' which you could hear ever so faintly rise above the busy chatter of the living room. your hands, adorned with soap bubbles, move with a graceful choreography, navigating each plate, glass, and utensil with practiced efficiency. The moonlight streaming through the window illuminates the dance of water droplets, casting a prism of reflections on the gleaming surfaces. The scent of citrus-scented dish soap permeates the air, as you, lost in thought, scrub away at remnants of roast chicken and mashed potatoes.

"There's my girl," You feel a pair of arms snake around your waist, you didn't need to turn around to tell who it was; it had of course been your wife, you looked down at where her hands rested on your midriff, her silver wedding ring glistened beneath the warm overhead lighting in the kitchen.

"Are you aware your son is trying to get into the wine rack again?" You turn around to face her, her hands changed from their spot on your waist to the edge of the kitchen sink, leaving you stuck between her and the counter, faces inches apart.

"What can I say? He's got drinking problems," She teased, gaze flickering to your lips for a minute.

"That's all you," You said, your faces were so close that you could've sworn that you could count every single freckle on her face. Without warning, Ellie puts her hands back onto your waist to pull you close, she plants little kisses on your neck, earning a giggle from you "Really?" You laugh "Is me washing dishes really that attractive?"

"Oh, absolutely," She thought you were so incredibly stunning, even in something as simple as a red cable-knit sweater with faded mom jeans and hair tied up sloppy in a claw clip. You had only bought the claw clip in the first place because your daughter told you they were trendy.

"Okay, seriously, there are kids here," You laugh, gently pushing Ellie away from you "We can save that for later."

"You just look so beautiful," Ellie wears a goofy smile on her face.

"In mom jeans?"

She shrugs "As beautiful as the day I met you, if not more."

You can't help the huge smile that consumes your face. You and Ellie had met in college, she was a bartender and you went to her bar every single Friday just to see her, all of your friends sat in a booth but you would always push for them to sit at the bar when they refused, you sat alone just to talk to the pretty girl behind the bar. "Do you remember how we were spending Christmas in College?"

"One bottle of peppermint schnapps and a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels."

"You're forgetting a game of strip poker," You add.

"That's probably because I was hammered off my ass," She says bluntly and it makes you laugh. Back in college, the pair of you made plans to fly home to see your families but a snowstorm had other plans, with arrangements cancelled you went back to each other, cozying up on Ellie's beat-up couch and dumping schnapps into eggnog, god it tasted awful but the sound of Ellie laughing, her cheeks and nose pink from cold air almost made it taste better.

"You know..." You say, drawing Ellie's attention "I think it might be time to start the gingerbread house contest."

Ellie is way ahead of you, she leaves the kitchen and enters the game room, you can tell the exact moment she announced it by the kid's reactions all you heard was cheering before a dozen kids stormed out of the game room and gathered around the dining table where you had meticulously placed a gingerbread house decorating kit at each chair as well as little bowls full of several colours of frosting and miscellaneous candies lined down the center.

Parents sat next to their children or stood behind them, either rooting for them or guiding their small hands along the gingerbread, aiding the decorating process. Ellie sat between both of your children "Levi, you can eat it after you build it," She chuckled, gingerly moving the plastic butter knife of icing to the edge of a wall for the gingerbread house, "See? You put icing along the edges and then you stick it together and then when it dries, you have a house!" She explained in simple terms to your youngest, turning her head to look at your daughter who was too busy conversing with her friend to decorate "You should be listening to this too, Kenna, useful tips," She teased. Kenna rolled her eyes, she was ten years old and at that stage where she was starting to get embarrassed by her parents. Ellie laughed at your daughter's reaction, locking eyes with you from your spot by the doorway where the two of you share a look of understanding.

"Uh oh, looks like Papa's intervening," Dina said, she stood next to Jesse, cradling her baby, JJ, in her arms, watching the scene unfold.

"Alright, kiddo, here's what we're gonna do." Joel shooed Kenna's friend away, replacing her. Under hushed whispers he explained a plan to Kenna, the two were discussing a layout to win the gingerbread contest.

"Oh, it's getting heated now," Ellie said, now moving her focus onto Levi's sloppy gingerbread house.

Everyone was in the festive dining room, laughing and talking, truly in the Christmas spirit, all except for one; you heard what sounded like faint sobs coming from the kitchen. With furrowed eyebrows, you followed the sound and found none other than your friend, Catherine crying into her hands.

"What happened?" You break the silence, catching her attention.

Catherine begins to wipe away tears, shaking her head "It's nothing, it's so stupid-

"Well, it's not nothing if you're crying." You cross your arms. Catherine can't seem to get the words out, she just shakes her head and squeezes her eyes shut in her best attempt to push back tears, her blue eyes red and puffy "Whatever it is, I'm not going to judge you."

"It's just-" She takes a deep, shaky breath" Sometimes I wish I wasn't a mom, I just wish I could pack up my bags and leave in the middle of the night and never come back." Catherine was an English teacher at a middle school, you had met her not long after you met Ellie. She was also a new mother, she had only had her baby girl, Clementine for six months; you saw how tired she was, she always for dark bags under her eyes, she used to intricately braid her dirty blond hair every day but now she only had the energy in her to tie it up into a loose bun. "I'm sorry," She laughed "I don't know why I'm crying."

"Because it hurts." You answer, eyebrows furrowing with concern.

Your daughter ran into the kitchen with a huge smile on her little face "Mom, you need to see my house, Papa Joel is helping me and it looks really cool so far-" Her smile faded in the slightest when she saw you with Catherine, "Is Cathy okay?"

"She's fine, sweetheart," You kneel to eye level with Kenna "Her tummy just hurts from too much hot chocolate so I'm gonna take care of her for a bit." You brush one of Kenna's lose hair behind her ear and plant a kiss onto her freckled forehead "Just go back to making your house, I'm sure it looks awesome, I promise I'll come see it when it's done but I think your auntie Sarah would love to see it." Kenna nods casting one last look at Catherine who turned around to hide her tear-stained face from your daughter and hurried out of the kitchen. "Cath, let's talk outside." You move towards the sliding door on the other side of the kitchen, you hold it open for Catherine who follows you outside, immediately hugging herself in an attempt to fight off the cold. "So, where is this coming from?"

Catherine looks around the snow-covered yard, she sees the snowman that your children made with Ellie the day before and it only adds to the unbearable weight on her shoulders "I'm not good at this, I'm a bad mom-

"No, you're not-

She lets out another sob "Like just now, you are so patient with Kenna and Levi, you and Ellie have this incredible house and an amazing family, you guys never fight and I just feel like I'm falling behind."

"You're crazy if you think Ellie and I don't fight, we argue all the time about the stupidest things, like earlier we fought about who would pop that champagne cork. We fight, but that doesn't mean that we don't love each other, I'm sure you feel the same way about Emmet."

"I love Emmet," She says "I really do and I love Clementine so so much I just wish I had a minute to breathe." Catherine can hardly look you in the eyes "I work with kids all day and take care of them and then I get home and it's just more of the same but there's cooking and cleaning and it's endless."

The silence stretches between you two. Catherine's face is scrunched up, her pale turning red from the cold. With each unsteady breath, she heaves, a cloud of carbon dioxide emerges. The sleet covering every inch of ground acts as soundproofing over the neighbourhood, the only thing you can hear are birds flapping their wings and Catherine's heavy cries.

"Do you remember when I wanted to be a writer?" She asks "When I used to have dreams, I would hole myself up in that one corner booth of that coffee shop every Sunday and I would write for hours on end."

"And every time someone mentioned a book or movie that they like, you would ask what they liked about it so you could use bits of it in your writing." You say, your lips stretching into a thin melancholic smile at the memory.

"Well, it's all gone out the window." She was shaking by that point, not from the frigid air or her now wet socks but from misery "Two years ago I was hosting wine-tasting parties and Emmet was taking me out to these beautiful high-end restaurants. I could fit into sleek back dresses and wear high heels for hours without getting blisters, now all I eat is Kraft dinner and takeout. Every nice blouse I own has gotten baby vomit on it."

The way Catherine is speaking, she sounds bitter with despair hanging in her tone. You at a loss for words, postpartum depression was common but you hadn't realized just how much Catherine was suffering. She had spent six months feeling this way with no one to talk to. When you first adopted Kenna you were terrified, you thought that you wouldn't have a mother's instinct and that you were going to screw her up in some way or that she would resent you because you aren't her biological mother.

"I haven't got a full night of sleep in six months, all I hear is that fucking screeching cry. That's all she does is scream, she screams when she's happy, when she's sad, when she's upset and angry, it's all I hear and I'm so fucking sick of it." She buried her face into her hands "Emmet just loves her so much, he does everything with her without complaint and I can't help but hold the slightest bit of resent for her, I probably sound evil right now."

"You don't," You pulled Catherine in for a hug. Embracing her and all of her sadness, if it belonged to her then it belonged to you as well. "I'll tell you this right now, it's going to get a whole lot worse before it gets better." Her head was tucked into the crook of your neck.

"That isn't helping-

You pushed her away, holding onto her shoulders, forcing her to face you. "Remember when you adopted that dog?"

"Toothless," She smiled at the thought of her old Labrador.

"He was a puppy when you adopted him, he had way too much energy, barked at every sound, and pissed and shat on the floor of your apartment a lot," You say, face dead serious despite the subject matter "That night before exams when you were exhausted and all you wanted was to sleep, you tucked yourself into bed and Toothless was right beside you and then he pissed all over your white duvet. You called me and you just cried and cried because you were so stressed and that was the tipping point. How about that time he dragged your period-stained underwear out of your laundry basket when you had a date over-

"Okay, I get it," Catherine laughed.

"My point is, when that puppy stage passed, you were in love with that dog, you blew off plans just to take him on walks downtown. If you had a bad day, you would curl up on the couch with him. Not that I'm comparing your child to a dog but when this postpartum leaves, that child is going to be the light of your life. Fridays at the bar won't sound appealing when you can make popcorn and watch Disney with your daughter, nothing else is going to matter as much as that girl. When Clementine gets older you'll find that every eye-roll means you're doing something right."

"Is that true?" She asks "About the eyerolls?"

"No," You laugh "It's just something I say to make Ellie feel better."

Catherine chuckles, wiping away what remains of her tears. "Thank you."

"I know it feels like it's the end of the road but it's not. It gets easier every single day but that's the hard part, you need to get up and face it every single day." Your words calm Catherine down. Her tears dissipate and with a deep breath she is no longer shaking "We should go back inside now, I wanna see who won the gingerbread building contest." You sling an arm around her and guide her back inside through the sliding door.

"But my socks are wet." She says, hesitant to step back inside.

"I'm sorry for making you stand in the snow but that conversation needed to happen," You urge her inside anyway, not caring if your freshly cleaned kitchen floors get wet "I'll lend you a pair of slippers."

You and Catherine return to the dining room where the contest is just wrapping up, both in fuzzy slippers; the pair Catherine wore had little black spotted cows on them while yours were teal and made to look like Perry the Platypus, a gift you received from Ellie out of the blue because she thought they were hilarious and wanted both of you to have a matching pair. "Just in time," Dina says, she's wearing a white turtle neck and blue skinny jeans, leaning against the wall, watching her husband with a smile "They're about to announce the winner."

Ellie is speaking in a hushed voice with Jesse who is holding JJ in one arm, she's acting as serious as ever and even pretending to ask JJ for his opinion, the baby just babbles in return "Interesting, thank you, JJ," She says. Ellie turns to the crowd, everyone goes silent waiting for her words "The consensus is... You are all winners!"

Many of the older kids groaned in annoyance, all of the adults knew this was coming that didn't stop Tommy from saying that it was outrageous.

As the night unfolded, the kids, bundled up in cozy sweaters, gathered around a table filled with art supplies to craft their ornaments. Laughter filled the room as little hands carefully adorned paper snowflakes and painted wooden stars. The parents, caught in the infectious energy of the children, joined in the crafting, reminiscing about their childhood holiday traditions.

With bellies full and hearts warmer than ever, the group of friends settled into a circle around the fireplace. The children, tucked in cozy blankets, many of the kids fell asleep in the game room while 'Home Alone' played on the TV.

As the night drew to a close, the guests exchanged hugs and well wishes. The flickering lights of the Christmas tree cast a soft glow on the scene as the friends, with their children in tow, bid farewell, knowing that the memories forged on this magical night would linger in their hearts long after the last snowflake had fallen. Parent hauled their sleeping children away into their cars, putting a close on the night.

Ellie took Kenna, hand in hand, to the bathroom, making sure that she thoroughly brushed her teeth. She tucked her daughter in, giving her a kiss on the forehead. Kenna tried to argue that she wasn't tired but the second her head hit the pillow her eyes shuttered closed and any chatter she had in her was replaced by soft breaths emerging from the sleeping girl.

You had taken Levi straight to bed, he was already passed out when you found him curled in a ball on a blanket in the game room. He gently put him down on his bed and pulled a Spider-Man blanket over the top of him to keep his little body warm. You made sure that his night light was plugged in before stepping away and closing the door, but not all the way, you left it open a crack, just the way he liked it.

And so, the echoes of laughter, the warmth of shared moments, and the spirit of togetherness lingered in the air, a reminder that the company of cherished friends and family had just left, leaving you and your little family to sit in the static quiet of the fireplace crackling.

The air is still tinged with the scent of cinnamon and pine, and a soft glow emanates from the myriad of twinkling lights that adorn every corner. The Christmas tree, a majestic centrepiece, stands tall and proud, its branches adorned with an array of ornaments that glisten in hues of red, gold, and silver. A cozy fireplace crackles merrily, casting a warm embrace upon the room. Festive stockings, embroidered with care, hang in anticipation of surprises. Plush blankets drape over sofas, inviting you to sink into their warmth. Every surface seems to gleam with the holiday spirit, from the gleaming silverware on the dining table to the festive wreaths that adorn doorways. The ambiance is a symphony of holiday joy, where every decoration tells a story of cherished traditions and the magic of Christmas despite the displaced blankets and dishes, as well as random craft supplies that were somehow everywhere.

"We should probably clean this up before bed," You say, bending down to grab a throw blanket off the floor.

Ellie grabs your wrist to stop you "That's what tomorrow is for," You turn to face her "Right now I just want to be with my wife."

You grin "I don't think I'll ever get sick of you saying that."

"I don't think I'll ever get sick of saying it."

You kiss Ellie, she has one hand pulling you in from the small of your back. "I think I have a crush on you." You giggle.

"A crush on your wife?" Ellie raises an eyebrow "Who could imagine that."

"No I mean, I obviously love you but there's a difference between being in love and having a crush, we've been married for fourteen years and I still get excited when you call me pretty. I can't help but stare at you in a room full of people and when you look back I get butterflies because I just can't help but be thankful that I got lucky enough to have you." Your lips curve up into a smile "I don't think that was corny enough," You say sarcastically.

Ellie kisses you again, it is simple and sweet, like the taste of sugar resting on the tip of your tongue "I guess I have a crush on you too," She looked so pretty in her jeans and red flannel, sporting the haircut you gave her with pride; whenever someone mentioned her haircut she would get all giddy and say 'My wife did it!'. An idea snaps into your mind, and you swiftly break away from Ellie and kick off your Perry the Platypus slippers, jetting to the kitchen to the sliding door and running outside. Ellie calls after you, with no response, she follows your trail of teal slippers. She pokes her head outside "Honey?" She calls into the night, and instead of your voice answering her she is decked in the face by a snowball. "Ow!"

With rosy cheeks and twinkling eyes, your breath forming clouds in the cold, launched the first snowball, its trajectory guided by both precision and mischief. Ellie, undeterred, retaliated with a well-aimed throw which truthfully fucking hurt when it crashed into you as she used to play softball and didn't know how to gently throw anything. The world around you transformed into a playground, each snowball being thrown with more power.

As the not-so-friendly competition unfolded, your movements became a dance—a graceful ballet of dodges and throws. The landscape bore witness to their camaraderie, marked by the hushed giggles (trying your best to stay quiet enough that you didn't wake the kids) and the occasional shrieks of delight. Frost-kissed eyelashes framed your beaming faces, capturing the essence of a moment suspended in the magic of winter.

The cold air filled with the warmth of your connection. You both paused, momentarily breathless, her laughter echoing in the serene stillness of the snow-covered landscape. Amidst the snow-laden trees and glistening ground, you and Ellie shared a quiet gaze—a fleeting, unspoken acknowledgment of the bond that stayed unbroken with each tossed snowball.

Your cheeks flushed with both the chill of the air and the thrill of the game, finally forfeited, coming out from your shielding spot behind the shed, you laughed as you approached Ellie, moving your delicate hands to shake snow out of her hair. The memory of the evening lingered, a cherished chapter in the story of your enduring love.

#ellie williams #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #the last of us #the last of us ellie #tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie the last of us #Ellie is down bad #christmas #you have kids with Ellie #Ellie Williams X reader fluff

361 notes · View notes

justporo · 5 months

Text

From savoury to sweet

All your friends are invited for winter festivities and you're doing your best to prepare everything for a big reunion. But a certain vampire keeps testing your patience until it ultimately snaps...

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: Written for the "Delicacies" prompt of the BG3 Winter Holiday challenge and since I'm running this challenge I'm cheating a bit and also fill the "Holiday spirit" with this - because I guess everyone knows the feeling of feeling stretched thin when the end of the year comes around with all the joy and stress it has to offer... And sadly I don't have a sassy vampire to pull me through it *sighs* Happy holidays to you all!

Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav (You) Warnings: none Wordcount: 1,5k ~~~

The little townhouse in Baldur’s Gate you and Astarion lived in was filled throughout with delicious smells: mulled wine, freshly baked pastries, simmering gravy. Together with everything being neatly decorated with holly, candles and more wintery decor it made for a very cosy and festive atmosphere.

Unfortunately, the comfy mood was disrupted by smells of burning and colourful curses being spat.

Gale and you had been bustling around the kitchen cooking, baking and making preparations, meanwhile Astarion sat at the long table there - one leg lazily dragged up onto the bench. He was reading something and kept stealing brandy infused cherries out of a bowl that always seemed to magically find its way back into his reach - no matter how often you moved the bowl away from him.

The wizard had come over to help you prepare a whole bunch of food. And of course there had been a very good reason behind all of this.

Somewhen when winter had rolled around and the Midwinter holidays had come closer, a thought had entered your mind and been stuck there ever since - and with that a wish.

It had been quite some time since you had seen all the other members of your little adventure group last - or friends rather because that was what they all had become. And you missed them all deeply. But fortunately there could be something done about that.

So, you had brought up the idea to Astarion to invite them over for the holiday to have a nice festive evening together.

Immediately, the vampire’s nose had scrunched up in distaste: “You’re not becoming all sappy all of a sudden, are you? I didn’t sign up for this.”

You had swatted his arm and pouted profusely, feeling a little hurt by his immediate rejection of your idea.

This had been a dream of yours for a long time: having a really fancy and enjoyable holiday festivity with someone to actually share it. Because you never had the chance to have that when you had grown up on the streets of Baldur’s Gate.

The closest you’d ever gotten to a holiday celebration had been sharing a stolen pie with some other urchins while you had huddled somewhere under tattered blankets, trying to escape the cold.

When you had painted that picture for Astarion (maybe purposefully laying it on thickly), his sassy attitude had immediately fallen. You had seen some of your past hurt mirrored in his red eyes. With a small sigh he had hooked his thumb on your chin and promised you to give you the holiday festivity you had always dreamt of.

“But”, he had immediately added when you had already started jumping up and down joyfully, “no one and I mean none of them will stay with us, darling. I had enough of sharing camp with all these buffoons for a lifetime - for all of immortality even.”

You had brushed off his sarcastic words quickly and had sent out letters to all your friends the following day. Answers had come in slow and sporadically since then - but that surely only meant that everyone was just very busy. Right?

But once you had started to think about what dishes you all wanted to prepare for this evening, how to get everything festive and whatnot, all these worries had quickly been forgotten. Gale had immediately been enlisted as your aid to tackle the massive task - obviously not taking no for an answer.

So there you were: a prodigy wizard and a former thief slaving away in the kitchen for almost a whole day in preparation for holiday dinner. Meanwhile a vampire was contributing nothing to the efforts - except if you counted his snide remarks (and of those he contributed many).

Every surface in the kitchen was filled with already finished dishes, loose ingredients or heaps of dirty pots, pans and utensils. Together with Gale you had prepared little filled pies as a starter, a variety of sides for the main course of different picks of meats and fish and sauces to compliment everything.

Almost all of it was done being prepped for dinner. Now only your baked dessert was missing. And of course that had been where things had went awry. Your nerves had been on edge already, stressing how everything would go. Gale had not been helping with his unhelpful-helpful commentary. And not even to mention your vampire just lounging there on the bench like a cat, making it a point to annoy you even more with his sassy manner.

And you had reached your breaking point when you had pulled a completely burnt cake from the oven, covering up the delicious other smells while a small smoke cloud had erupted in the middle of the kitchen and Astarion hadn’t been able to keep his mouth shut about it.

“Oh love, I mean, I am no expert by any means, but I do think that’s a bit dark even for a dark chocolate cake,” he’d commented while he had barely even lifted his eyes from his book, one elbow propped up on the table and head placed on his hand while he popped another cherry into his mouth.

And that had also been the reason why he’d been hit with a small bun. Caused by your already thin stretched patience finally snapping you had grabbed the nearest throwable thing and had hurled it at the vampire’s head. That thing had happened to be a bunch of sweet rolls you had made as a side. Your impeccable aim had made sure that you hit your mark - and the screech you had let out had probably given it even more force.

Without even checking Astarion’s reaction you had sunk down on the bench opposite of the vampire and had buried your face in your hands while you tried to not let tears overwhelm you.

Astarion reflectively hissed and swatted the gnarly pastry away from him. But then he took in the scene and quickly realised that he had rightfully brought this onto himself.

Gale, who had taken a step back from you in caution with hands lifted defensively, threw the pale elf a sour look now while you suppressed sobs. “Incredibly supportive, Astarion, a job well done”, the wizard scolded the vampire who at least had the good grace to look ashamed of himself.

The wizard sat down beside you and started rubbing your back while he kept throwing Astarion looks. The vampire shuffled around awkwardly for a few moments, not being used to and not enjoying having to apologise.

With a sigh he finally got up and moved around the table and with a “shoo shoo” motion chased Gale out of the kitchen so he could be alone with you for a moment or two.

“Love, I’m sorry,” Astarion whispered as he sat down beside you and looped an arm around your shoulders. Immediately you let yourself fall into his touch. You really didn’t want to be mad at him. Under different circumstances you would have just laughed at his comment.

“I’m sorry I upset you with the stupid thing I said, forgive me?”, the vampire added and softly nuzzled his nose into your hair as you buried your face at his chest.

“I forgive you - sorry I threw baked goods at you”, you mumbled into his chest but you knew he had understood you when you felt the soft rumble of his laughter run through his whole body.

“It’s all good, my love. I got what I deserved and may I add: incredible aim. You’ve not lost your touch since the end of our grand adventure”, Astarion added and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

You relaxed a little and just sat there with him for a few moments as you felt that your breathing slowly became normal again and some tension leaving your body. Astarion just held you.

After a while the vampire dragged over the bowl of liquor drenched fruit he’d been stealing out of. “Cherry, my sweet?”, he asked and with that made you look up again. He was holding the sticky fruit between his thumb and index and winked at you.

And for some reason that made you laugh. But when you didn’t immediately answer, Astarion shrugged his shoulders and popped the little treat in his mouth. You whacked his hand.

“No, Astarion! And stop eating those, we still need them!”, you scolded him as your partner pouted at you for being told off.

“Alright, no more cherries, but only if you agree to come with me and get some fresh air”, Astarion proposed. You wanted to protest but the vampire hushed you. “I’m sure Gale can be trusted to not burn the house down for like half an hour alone”, he continued.

You looked at him with some suspicion: “Unlike you to trust Gale with anything but walking in a straight line.”

Astarion rolled his eyes while he already got up and made to drag you along.

“Well, unusual circumstances and the like - you know”, he went on and let his free hand draw circles in the air. You just shrugged, honestly being happy to be dragged outside for a while.

“Now come, love, get your cloak - you need a break from all the sweet and savoury dishes here”, Astarion said and patted your butt for some motivation.You grinned at him: “Alright, except for that one sweet snack, my dear.”

Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #astarion x tav #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #bg3holidayfluffle23 #astarion x you #astarion x reader #bg3

225 notes · View notes

babydollmarauders · 8 months

Text

TOLERATE IT — JOHN MARINO

john marino x fem!reader

summary: in which y/n’s love is tolerated at best, and she wonders what ever happened to her loving boyfriend

warnings: not much dialogue in the beginning?, happy or sad ending depending on the way you look at it, not proofread.

notes: i love writing angst but as a john girlie, this hurt me— but i did this to myself

the page turns, John’s fingers skimming it gently.

his head is dipped low, one leg perched on the other. he’s sat on the other end of the sofa, engrossed in his book; whereas i pay no attention to the movie that plays on the tv, rather watching him instead.

his demeanor is peaceful, and i know better than to actually disturb him. this is some of the only time he gets to relax, and i don’t want to take that away from him. so i sit quietly instead, just enjoying the rare company.

but i can’t help but wish he would actually do something with me. watch a movie, cuddle, talk, anything. instead i’m subjected to medium silence and the sound of paper flipping.

i turn the tv off, rising from the couch, and his eyes flicker up at my movement, but he dismisses it quickly, going back to his book.

“i’m going to bed.” i tell him softly, quietly yearning for him to join me, but instead he just hums in acknowledgment. “are you gonna join me?”

his eyes scan the page for a few more seconds as i stand before him, waiting for his response. finally, he looks up at me properly, shaking his head.

“no, i’m good.”

my heart sinks at his reply, but i nod, “okay.”

i spend my entire bedtime routine hoping that he’ll walk into the room. that maybe he’ll change his mind and for once, we’ll go to bed together; like we did early in our relationship. but when i climb into an empty bed and he’s still in the living room, i have to accept the fact that it’s not happening. that those days are apparently over.

i stir in my sleep, shifting under the weight of an arm draped over my waist, and for a second my heart leaps in my chest, thinking John has decided to cuddle me as i slept. but when i turn under his touch, my eyes fluttering open, i find him asleep. the spooning an unconscious movement, and as soon as it’s started, it’s already over, his arm drawing back as he moves in his slumber to lay on his back.

i settle on my side, resting my head in my hand as i watch the steady rise and fall of his chest in the darkness of the room. the silence piercing as i watch him breathe.

what ever happened to the boy who held me as we slept? the same one who comforted me when people criticized our five year age gap. the one who told me he would do anything to keep me happy.

***

my heart races in my chest as i set the dining table.

the usual plastic plates and cups being replaced for fine china and wine glasses. a singular candle is lit in the middle of the table, next to the steaming pasta that waits to be served. homemade french bread sits beside it, a dish of herb infused butter resting atop of the wood as well.

i spent all day in the kitchen, making everything from scratch. the noodles, the sauce, the bread, the butter, all done today by me. as well as John’s favorite chocolate cake, in which i got the recipe from his mother.

it’s officially our two year anniversary, and i took advantage of the fact that John had practice today and then was going to the gym. i figured a slightly early dinner and then dessert would be a good plan before i gave him his present and then hopefully we would make our way to the bedroom.

but now i sit in my seat at the table, awaiting his return. he had told me he would be home by six, but the clock on the dining room wall displays that it’s a quarter past seven and he still isn’t home.

i’ve stuck the food into the oven to keep warm at this point, but the empty chair across from me and the soft music that floats through the house taunts me.

“alexa, stop the music.” the instrumental cuts off abruptly, tears welling in my eyes at my boyfriends absence.

i’m just about ready to eat by myself and call it an early night when i hear the front door open, footsteps echoing through the house, getting closer and closer. they halt when he reaches the dining room, and i look up to find him standing in the doorway.

his brows are threaded together, his gym bag slung over his shoulder.

“you made dinner?” he questions, setting his bag on the ground beside him.

i perk up immediately, disappointing myself with how quickly i’m ready to move past his lateness.

“yeah.” i smile, motioning toward the empty seat. “take a seat, i’ll go grab it out of the oven! i was waiting for you to get home.”

he nods, sitting down as i scurry towards the kitchen. i bring the pasta and bread and butter out one at a time before taking my seat across from him.

i’m on the edge of my seat, eagerly awaiting his praise for my cooking and the setup, or even just a ‘happy anniversary, baby.’ but it never comes. we eat silently as he scrolls on his phone, and when he finishes his food, he quickly stands to dismiss himself.

“wait!” he stops at my shout, furrowing his brows at me. “i made cake.”

my eyes are soft, silently begging him to stay.

despite the fact that he evidently forgot our anniversary, i’m still eager to please him; vying for his attention and love, the best i can.

he nods, settling back down in his seat.

“dinner, cake, wine, and glass plates?” he laughs, “you were feeling fancy tonight.”

my heart shatters in my chest. even though i know he forgot the date, it still hurts to hear him speak like it’s just another day. proving even further that he doesn’t know how special today is.

“well, yeah, it’s-” i’m so close to reminding him, but then i think of how guilty he’ll feel, and i stop. “it’s just been a good day.”

i plaster a smile on my lipstick covered lips, hoping he’ll buy it; and he does. he gives me a small smile back and i excuse myself to the kitchen, taking a moment to blink back tears before i cut into the cake, setting a slice on a plate and hurrying back to him.

i place the dessert in front of him, before sitting back down, just watching him as he eats. i’m no longer in a cake mood, my appetite gone as i push my still only half eaten pasta around my plate.

“Jack said hi, by the way.” he speaks between bites and i hum.

“that’s nice, i’ll have to text him.” i acknowledge. “i talked to your mom today.”

“you did?”

“yeah, i called her for the cake recipe.” i explain. “she said to tell you to call her.”

maybe she can remind him what day it is, seeing as she remembered it as soon as i called her.

“okay, i’ll call her soon.” he tells me, finishing his last bite before he stands once more.

“anything else, or can i take a shower now?” he asks, as though i’ve inconvenienced him somehow.

“you can shower.” i wait until he’s walking away, heading down the hallway to our room before i speak again, lowly whispering. “happy anniversary.”

i know i deserve better; that my love should be celebrated. i know that i deserve someone who will remember our anniversary; maybe even someone who will get me flowers just because and who will spend time with me and appreciate my love rather than tolerate it, but i love him.

***

i sit backwards, on my knees on a chair in the living room, facing the front door. i wait eagerly, checking the time on my phone religiously.

i know John should be home soon. a week long roadie finally ending with his long awaited return.

it’s half past two in the morning, much later than i normally stay up, but i refuse to let him arrive home without a proper welcoming.

my eyes are half lidded, but excitement still courses through my veins, remembering his three goals and seven assists in this past four games.

i perk up at the sound of the front door unlocking, watching with baited breath as it creaks open. John steps through the doorway, looking exhausted, slipping his shoes off and dropping his roadie bag on the floor.

i squeal excitedly, gaining his attention as i hop off my chair and run straight into his arms.

“welcome home, Johnny!” i cheer, snaking my arms around his neck, and jumping up to wrap my legs around his waist.

he stiffens for a split-second, letting out an ‘oomph’ before his hands fly to my butt to hold my weight.

“jesus, y/n, warn a guy, would you?” he huffs out a laugh and i lean back to look at his face, expecting a smile but all i see is a blank expression and tired eyes.

i give a sad smile, unwrapping my legs and letting my body slide down his.

suddenly, i feel incredibly insecure, my happy mood diminishing and quickly being replaced by regret.

“you’re right, i’m sorry.” i breathe out, backing away. “i guess i was overly excited.”

i turn quickly in order to keep him from seeing my now glassy eyes, tears threatening to spill as i retreat down the hall to our bedroom.

i don’t expect for him to accompany me, but suddenly i can hear his footsteps behind me, slowly following.

“what was that?” he questions as we reach the bedroom.

i can feel myself reaching my boiling point, choosing to ignore his words as i walk into the en-suite bathroom. i turn the shower water on, but he follows me into the bathroom too.

“y/n.”

y/n. not ‘babe’ or ‘love’. just y/n.

i swallow the lump in my throat before i turn to face him.

“aren’t you gonna go to bed?” i ask in attempt to avoid his question. “you seem tired.”

“aren’t you?” he raises a brow, and i shake my head.

i jab my thumb towards the shower behind me, “i’m gonna shower first.”

“i see that.” he huffs. “what was that? you just walked away from me.”

i sigh, knowing what’s finally coming, and turn to shut off the shower water before facing him again.

“doesn’t feel good, does it?” i walk around him, back into the bedroom, but he’s hot on my heels.

“what?” his hand grips my wrist, spinning me back around to look at him. “what are you talking about?”

“look, if this is all in my head, tell me now.” i start, only confusing him further by the looks of his expression. “but, you don’t love me anymore.”

tell me i’ve got it wrong.

he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before he opens them again. “what are you even saying? i’m dating you, aren’t i?”

“are you?” i laugh bitterly, taking a couple steps backwards. “or are you tolerating me?”

“y/n,” he sighs, shaking his head. “you’re tired. and i must’ve upset you somehow, but you’re not making any sense.”

“you don’t appreciate me!” i shout, my hands gesturing wildly in the air.

“i cooked a nice dinner for our anniversary and you were late and forgot the date! and while you’re off playing hockey and winning games, where am i? here! i sit here and polish plates until they gleam and glisten. i clean the house and sit and wait for your return, and then when you do get home, you don’t even seem happy to see me! at all!”

John blinks in surprise at my outburst, his lips parting to speak, but i cut him off before he can get a word out.

“i made you my everything and you don’t even seem to care! i’ve been begging for you to love me again but i’m done! what happened to the man that assured me that my past relationships didn’t define me? the you that actually spent time with me?”

my chest heaves as i regain my breath, watching his expression change from confusion to defensiveness.

“i spend time with you!” he huffs and i roll my eyes.

“no, you sit and you read or you watch games or you do something by yourself on the other side of the couch.” i clarify dejectedly, nearly ready to give up. “you don’t do things with me. and if i try, you wave me off.”

“i just- i don’t understand where this is coming from.” he tells me, and i slump on the end of the bed, furiously wiping away tears that have begun to fall.

“that’s just it. you assume i’m fine with this, because i’ve let it go on for too long. i’ve sat here, and i’ve painted you in the best colors, and i’ve put you on this pedestal. i told myself that if i just did more- if i just did anything you could ever hope for- then we would be fine. that eventually you’ll love me again and you’ll treat me how you used to and we would be happy. but instead i watch you live your life and i’m delegated to the sidelines, begging to be even a minor part of your life. you tolerate me living with you. you tolerate my existence. and you tolerate my love.

“but i’m done. i can’t do it anymore.” my face falls in my hands, sobs wracking my chest.

i’ve finally given up.

John is quiet, but i can hear his feet padding against the floor for a moment, moving farther away before he comes back.

his fingers spread across my thigh, and when i drag my hands away from my face, opening my eyes to look at him, he’s kneeled on the floor in front of me.

“i’m sorry that you feel i don’t love you anymore. i never meant to make you feel like you’re just tolerated in my life. but i promise you, i see you. i do appreciate everything you do for me, and the love that you give me.”

his hand leaves my skin, fumbling with something in his grasp before holding it up.

my heart skips a beat, those butterflies returning in my stomach as my lips part in surprise. my eyes lock in on the diamond ring that sits in the little black velvet box in his hands.

“i promise, you’re not just going tolerated. i love you, and i want you in my life forever.” my gaze flickers up to his face, and i already begin nodding my head. “will you marry me?”

i nod even faster, an excited grin spreading over my lips, and he smiles softly, removing the ring from the box and slipping it onto my outstretched finger.

i admire it for a second, appreciating how right it looks to have a ring on my finger.

this is it.

this is what i did it all for.

what i’ve waited my whole life for.

my hands cup his face, pulling him in to press my lips to his.

“i love you.” i whisper, my lips still burning for his, and in response, he pulls me in for another kiss.

when we finally part, we begin to get ready for bed, effectively ignoring the outburst i just had. and once we climb into bed, i kiss him once more, melting into his touch like i used to.

“i’m sorry, you must be tired. i took up so much of your time tonight, you could’ve been asleep by now.” i mumble, listening to his heartbeat under the weight of my head.

“it’s okay. don’t apologize.” his fingers run through my hair and he turns off his bedside lamp, blanketing the room in darkness. “i love you.”

i fully plan on responding, but amongst the comfort, my eyes have already turned heavy, and speaking feels like too much work. my breathing evens out as i bask in the closeness of this moment.

i love him.

#john marino #john marino x reader #john marino imagine #john marino fic #john marino blurb #nj devils #nhl fic #nhl imagine #faithlynn’s writings <3

382 notes · View notes

trashpandato · 8 months

Text

Earth

It’s a few days after the initial flurry of Kara coming out to the world as Supergirl. Kara won’t lie; she’s exhausted. It’s a combination of days of back-to-back interviews, of juggling her new responsibilities as Editor-in-Chief along with her appearances as Supergirl, both in a crime fighting capacity as well as those appearances that were more for show. Several weeks of nervous anticipation paired with new demands on her time have taken their toll.

But finally, finally, she gets to relax with Lena on her couch one Friday evening.

They’ve had dinner already, sharing a few dishes from the new Thai restaurant that Kara has been dying to try for a while, and now Lena is sipping on her wine while Kara works her way through a container of ice cream. After this week, she deserves an extra treat, or three.

Lena has been quiet all evening, uncharacteristically so. Usually, when it’s just the two of them, Lena doesn’t hold back. Kara is about to ask her what’s wrong when Lena puts her wine glass down and fixes her with a searching look.

“You know,’ she says, her words hesitant and a little shaky, “I’m surprised you’re still here.”

Kara frowns. “What do you mean? This is my apartment.”

“No, I mean, here. On Earth.”

At that, Kara shifts so she can face Lena more fully. She doesn’t ask any more questions, wants Lena to get out what she needs to say without interruption.

“With Nyxly defeated, and Lex gone, hopefully for good this time, I thought you might want to, um, go home. To Argo. Be with your parents.”

Kara can hear the fear in Lena’s voice, can see the way her hands tremble a little. She has a pretty good idea how much courage it has taken Lena to broach the subject, and her heart aches a little when she thinks about how long Lena must have sat with these thoughts, mulling them over, stewing, like she does when she is worried about something.

“Lena,” she says, trying to infuse the next few words with as much clarity and conviction as possible, “I am home. Sure, eventually I’ll want to go visit Argo again for a couple of weeks, but Earth is home for me now. This is,” she adds, waving her hands between them, “you are.”

There’s a small gasp and then Lena looks up at her, eyes wide.

“Me?”

Kara nods and takes both of Lena’s fidgeting hands in her own.

“I feel like we still have unfinished business, you and I. With Nyxly and Lex and all the chaos they brought, we’ve barely had time to breathe. To talk. To think about what we want, moving forward.”

Kara watches as Lena tilts her head to the side just a bit. “What we want?”

“Mm. I know what I want. I know that I can’t envision a life without you. But I think we need to talk about what you want, too. I’ve been the one making decisions for the both of us for too long. I want to do it right, this time.”

Lena doesn’t answer, not right away. For a moment, all she does is stare at Kara, mouth slightly open, like she can’t quite believe what Kara just revealed. Kara isn’t sure if she should continue, if she needs to spell out for Lena that her dreams of the future include a shared home, a wedding in Midvale, lazy Sunday mornings in bed, and Lena at the center of it all. But before Kara can decide, Lena surges forward and crashes their lips together. It’s forceful enough that Kara tips backwards, surprised by Lena’s speed. It means that their first kiss isn’t quite what Kara had imagined it might be, a soft, delicate thing by the door before Lena heads out for the evening. Instead, Kara’s back is pressed into her couch and Lena is on top of her, pushing herself as close as she can get.

When Lena eventually pulls back a little, her lipstick smeared and her hair askew, there’s a bright smile on her face, the kind that makes her nose scrunch up a little.

“I know what I want, too.”

#supercorp #kara x lena #supercorptober2023 #supercorptober

316 notes · View notes

akazzzaa · 6 months

Note

concept: if all the demons, lower & upper moon and muzan were able to cook, what would they make & bring for thanksgiving, if they celebrated with their s/o?

Sorry for being late! I'm unfamiliar with Thanksgiving day so I tried to do some research to make it accurate, Not a lot of American style food will be included cause they are from japan, but they try

A/N- I'm no chef, I had to look for a lot of recipes that would be 'demonic' and thanksgiving too ?

Characters- Muzan, Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza, Tamayo, Emnu

Summary- What they would cook for you on Thanksgiving

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- None really just a mention on blood once

Muzan

Muzan knows languages and understands a lot of cultures from around the world. He is interested in how different counties have such different taste in food. All human food is gross to him but he is the only demon who can actually eat human food without throwing up. He only eats human food to blend in. A very good cook otherwise.

I think Muzan would likely choose a high-quality turkey and he might incorporate a deep red cranberry sauce that reflects his demonic side while still being suitable for a Thanksgiving table. Carrots glazed with a blood orange reduction could be a visually striking and flavourful side dish. For dessert, a dark chocolate pecan pie could be Muzan's choice for you, combining sweetness with a hint of darkness. For a drink, Muzan would craft a special cocktail with dark fruits, red wine, and a touch of something more sinister. blood

Kokushibo

Given that Kokushibo lived during the Taisho era in Japan, he might appreciate traditional Japanese cuisine. If he were to celebrate Thanksgiving with his significant other, he might choose to prepare a special Japanese meal with a touch of elegance. He knows nothing about American cuisine and doesn't care to learn about it. He's the one cooking. You are the one eating. If you don't like it, make it yourself. He didn't cook a lot as a human but he knows his way around a kitchen.

He would cook sushi rolls with fresh fish, vegetables, and perhaps some unique ingredients to showcase his culinary skills. Light and crispy tempura made with seasonal vegetables and shrimp, served with a flavourful dipping sauce. A delicate Chawanmushi (Steamed Egg Custard)with ingredients like chicken, shrimp, and ginkgo nuts, steamed to perfection. Skewers of grilled chicken, perhaps with a teriyaki glaze, showcasing a balance of sweet and savoury flavours. For desert, a unique dessert that combines the rich flavours of matcha green tea with the creamy goodness of cheesecake.

Douma

Douma is an amazing cook, just under Muzan, he has chefs that cook for the followers but he has cooked many dishes for people during his lifetime. He's unfamiliar with American food but he will try for you.

Douma might appreciate a unique twist on the traditional Thanksgiving turkey. The glaze could be made with blood orange juice, honey, and spices, giving it a rich and flavourful coating with Truffle Mashed Potatoes. Then Douma may choose a red wine reduction sauce to enhance the flavour of the meal and tie the meal together. Douma is better at baking but doesn't think humans should eat to much sweets. But today is a one off for you both, he would create a visually striking dessert, perhaps with dark chocolate and exotic fruits.

Akaza

Not a bad cook, has never cooked until he met you and he's gotten better at it. He respects you and your culture so he will want to cook a Japanese-American dish for you.

Akaza could marinate the turkey in a special teriyaki sauce infused with cherry blossom flavours, giving it a unique and sophisticated twist. Instead of traditional sweet potato dishes, Akaza might opt for sweet potatoes glazed with a miso-based sauce, adding a savoury and umami-rich element to the dish. Fresh green beans cooked to perfection and tossed with a sesame dressing, providing a crunchy and nutty complement to the meal. For dessert, Akaza might choose to make a matcha-flavored tiramisu, combining the traditional Italian dessert with a Japanese green tea twist. To accompany the meal, Akaza might select a high-quality sake, demonstrating his refined taste and appreciation for Japanese beverages.

Tamayo

Given her background and the fact that she is knowledgeable about herbs and medicines, she might prepare a unique and exotic dish that incorporates flavors inspired by her extensive knowledge. Perhaps she would create a dish with rare herbs and spices, combining them in a way that showcases her expertise.

Tamayo might infuse traditional Thanksgiving turkey with a Japanese twist by using a miso glaze. Miso adds a rich, savoury flavour that complements the turkey. A stuffing made with Japanese mushrooms like shiitake and maitake, along with chestnuts, could be a flavourful side dish reflecting Tamayo's expertise with herbs and ingredients. A selection of pickled vegetables, such as daikon radish and carrots, could serve as a refreshing palate cleanser between bites of the richer dishes. For dessert, a matcha-flavored treat like matcha cheesecake or matcha-flavored mochi could be a delight to the Thanksgiving feast. She has modified her body to drink human tea, so she will watch you eat all the food she cooked but the only thing you two can enjoy together is a cup of tea. And she makes a good cup of tea.

Enmu

Will give you food poisoning. Do not eat his food

#demon slayer #kny #kny x reader #douma x reader #akaza x reader #kokushibo x reader #muzan kibutsuji #muzan x reader #douma #akaza #tamayo #tamayo x reader #kny enmu #enmu x reader #enmu

168 notes · View notes

terrence-silver · 4 months

Note

Old man Terry slipping lactation pills in beloved's drinks and food and relishing in the way her body changes and her breasts become heavier, fuller, sore, bigger. I think he would do it as a means to control beloved and to obviously drink from it daily, believing it has benefits or something. When she lactates for the first time and is so confused, he feigns concern and gives her pills that he makes her believe it's for her health but it's to keep her producing milk. His good little calf.

---

Of course it has benefits; mother's milk is the fountain of youth. Didn't you hear?

If Cleopatra could bathe in it, Terry Silver can drink it.

If it's good for a newborn, it's even better for an aging, power hungry Billionaire hellbent on quite literally latching unto and sucking dry whatever controlled and highly vetted source of health, longevity and strength he can like a vampire, and what a more fitting place for it to stem from than his very own beloved? Milk. It does a body good. A famous commercial from the 80's and 90's might come to Terry's mind as the idea occurs to him and of course the maintenance of a physique like his well into his sixth decade being alive doesn't come cheap (cheap, and not in the material sense, because Terry's more than willing to dish out cash) in fact, utilizing basic logic, it would be more and more complicated with each passing year; constant training, dedication, therapy, steam baths, devotion to the sport, very specific dietary choices. Yesterday, it was vegan screws and salads, but he so happens to find beloved's milk infinitely more appetizing, inviting and decadent to the degree he can and would induce their lactation through specific pills. Crushed in meals, crushed in beverages, crushed in a fine wine as they toast together over an intimate, romantic fine dinner for two. How very unassuming --- but he's here with an agenda. Terry Silver not only seeks rejuvenation because youth is the only thing money cant buy according to his own words, but he wants to consume in the general sense of the word. Consume beloved until they flow through his bloodstream, his organism, infused with his very bones; the things he breaks stone slabs with with such ease. The things he fights with. When he's in the midst of combat, it's like beloved's right there, alive and infused inside of his knuckles. You are what you eat, after all.

And of course, being Californian upper crust, he'd hear and see things.

He'd hear and see things for decades --- no doubt having participated too.

Celebrities eating their baby's placenta, Gwyneth Paltrow's beauty regimen that includes bee stings, Sandra Bullock's Hemorrhoid Eye Cream, Cate Blanchett's Foreskin Facials and Demi Moore's Leech Therapy. Hollywood's right next door. It would make Terry Silver's propensity for the strange and unusual almost seem commonplace; him drinking beloved's breast milk? Just another Wednesday in The Valley.

But, he cares. Of course he cares with every fiber of his being and his big, black heart. He tracks every change, every reaction, every sore and every bit of swelling surrounding beloved's body, perfectionist, control freak that he is. Their every complaint. Every bit of fluctuating transformation. Every bit of pain. Hell, he'd even bring in (a bribed off) doctor or ten to regularly check on beloved and quell any fears they might have by assuring them this is totally normal. It happens when someone's young and fertile; it is simply their concern he isn't truly surprised by because everything is going according to his plan and if he feigns anything, it's mostly innocence. But, Terry's far from innocent. This is him desiring to be one with beloved in every sense, consuming them, dominating them, wishing to take whatever he can from their youth and in equal measure, no doubt in mind it's a fetish too because the exchange simply turns him on. He is a dirty old man and he deliberately plays into it and just how very dirty and debauched he can be and that all by itself serves as a gleeful kink precisely because it's total filth. Total filth that totally amuses him. Perhaps even more so that he can expertly get beloved to actually allow him to drink from their breasts of their own volition to alleviate their pressure and pain they're feeling and have them thank him no less once it actually helps, perhaps utilizing a few well-learned massage moves of his as a gateway to everything that comes later. Oh, Terry the kindhearted saint, truly! What's best, beloved consented to everything of their own free will. Well, with some conditioning, white lies (in Terry's opinion) and slightly omitted details involved in the process, of course.

But, the ends justify the means.

Sooner or later, he'll sell the story to them in its entirety and have them agree to it regardless.

His good, perfect little calf indeed.

Not entirely out of the question he wont bottle samples and save them up behind a locked glass veneer in a specially refrigerated portion of his private wine cellar only he can drink from.

#terry silver #kk3 #cobra kai #old man terry #tw; age differences #tw; youth kink #tw; lactation kink #tw; manipulation #tw; generational gap #tw; vampirism #tw; drugging #lactation #terry silver x reader #terry silver x beloved #tw; breast play

61 notes · View notes

tulipsforvin · 9 months

Text

✧˚₊‧ Cooking With William J. Moriarty ✧˚ ₊‧

You hum your favourite song idly, flipping through the cookbook while you're sat atop the counter with your legs dangling off from it - swinging them absent-mindendly in the air.

“Have you found what you wanted to cook, my dear?” William inquires of you gently, shielding your face from the seeping sunlight with his free hand.

He stands infront of you - between the space of your legs, the other hand of his gone behind your back to tie the apron safely.

“Hm.” You hum in response, eyes glued to the cookbook. “There's something here called.. Coq au Vin? It's supposed to be a french gourmet dish. Do you want to try making it? The cookbook says it's quite delicious.”

William's hand draws back from tying your apron for you and instead rests on your thigh, caressing it back and forth repeatedly.

“Mm.. Coq au Vin, huh? Any meal shared with you would be delicious for me, even gravel.”

“Ah, but ofcourse, gravel; the epitome of gourmet cuisine.” You beam up at him before putting the cookbook aside on the area of the counter beside you & flattening your palms against his chest to gentle him away.

“A delicacy I would not mind trying with you.” He steps back willingly, holding your wrist gently in his palm as he helps you jump off from the counter.

“Enough with the cheekiness.” You grin.

The two gather the necessary ingredients to cook Coq au Vin together, or well - you read off the cookbook while William fetches the ingredients for you and sets it down; red wine, mushrooms, bacon, pearl onions and ofcourse, a whole chicken - along with other spices and such.

William bites the inner side of his cheek, going through the ingredients set out infront of the two of you while you're standing side by side. He taps the cookbook.

“It says we need pearl onions. But I recall you mentioning that you're not a fan. Perhaps we should stick to regular onions?” He suggests to which you nod your head plainly.

As you two begin sautéing the bacons and onions, the two of you find yourselves juggling multiple pans and trying to coordinate their movements.

“Which pan did you say needed more heating again, (name)?” William asks, holding two pans in his own hands as he faces the stove.

“I, uh..” You flip through the cookbook. “I think the onion needs medium heat while the bacon needs high heat. Maybe..?”

“Darling, what? Let me check.” William tugs at the cookbook in your hand & you let it go for William to scan through it with his irises.

The two of you are so focused in going through the cookbook to search for what pan would need more heat that you don't seem to notice the burning smell of onions behind you.

William is the first to notice, sniffing the air before he turns his head to look at the burning mess. You're the second to do so.

“Ah- goddamn it, William! The onions are burnt! We can't be serving burnt onions for dinner!” Your eyes widen in shock before William jumps into action at your panicked state.

“Easy, my love. Perhaps we can still salvage this? Let's.. let's scrape off the burnt parts and pretend it's a rustic touch.” He says, scraping off the charred bits while exchanging worried glances at each other every now and then.

You watch from the sidelines as you watch your significant other try and salvage the utterly-gone-bad situation. He's still scraping off the bits when he speaks to you without looking up at you.

“(Name), love, how is the chicken going?”

“The..chicken?” You ask, freezing in place. William's hands pause their scraping and he lifts his head to look up at you.

“Yes, darling. The chicken..? The one that's supposed to be marinating for hours?” He inquires.

“Ah! The-” Your head whips towards the raw chicken to simply see it as it was when William first took it out. “Shit! The chicken!”

You quickly dunk the chicken into the wine on it in a frenzy, hoping to infuse the flavours in r record time.

William's just been looking at you wide-eyed for the past few minutes, presumably questioning his life choices.

“Are..are you sure about this? I mean, it's not an elegant method but I suppose desperate times will have to call for desperate measures.” He sighs, rubbing the bridge of this noise. “I'm afraid, my darling, we have a poultry disaster at our hands.”

You return William's nervous glance and huff.

“Well, it's marinating.” You pause. “..ish?”

“Mm..” William hums tiredly. “How's the sauce, love?” He inquires of you.

“Like modern art. Chunky. Lumpy. Abstract..?” You reply in a deadpan tone of voice. William chuckles in exasperation, utterly defeated & turning off the stoves.

“We're not going anywhere with this, are we?” You sigh softly. “We aren't.” He agrees.

William shifts closer to you and places a hand on your hip, bringing you in closer and stroking it continuously with his thumb. You let your head fall to his shoulder comfortably.

“Well..look at the bright side. Atleast our kitchen looks like an art installation now.” You mutter, hoping to make light of this situation.

William hums amusedly, sighing softly in defeat. “Ah, yes, darling. The avant-garde spice collection. Truly a sight to behold.”

A few hours later, Louis and Albert arrive at their abode only to find a culinary mess for dinner at their plates. Louis takes it upon himself to lecture the two of you for hours upon hours as you and William sit besides each other like sorry children. Albert, on the other hand, sits on the sidelines, drinking from his red wine and obviously enjoying the sight before him.

Perhaps you two should let the professionals handle making dinner the next time?

#william james moriarty #william james moriarty x reader #william james moriarty x y/n #william james moriarty x you #moriarty the patriot #x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #james moriarty #yuumori #wholesome #fluff #headcanon

87 notes · View notes

tastesoftamriel · 1 year

Text

Sadri's nix-hound noodles

This dish is considered a bit too simple by Telvanni standards to be served in mushroom towers, but nix-hound noodles are a traditional Dunmeri favourite that the commoners of Morrowind love! Spicy, fragrant, savoury, and packed with flavourful nix-hound meat and Morrowind's tastiest mushrooms, you'll find this ubiquitous dish at any market stall or tavern, like The Retching Netch.

For the hungry ones, serve with boiled kwama egg marinated overnight in saltrice sauce! Makes 4 portions.

You will need:

200g thin wheat noodles (like somen)

350g minced beef, turkey, or chicken

5 button mushrooms, or any other mushrooms of the equivalent size, chopped finely

2 shallots, diced

3 cloves garlic, diced

2 spring onions, chopped small

1 tbsp Shaoxing cooking wine

1 tbsp mala peppercorn oil (optional)

4 tbsp Lao Gan Ma crispy chili oil

3 tbsp soy sauce

2 tbsp sesame oil

1/2 tbsp sugar

1 tbsp tahini

Vegetable oil, for cooking

Method:

In a pan, lightly fry the shallots, mushrooms , and spring onions. Once the mushrooms release their water and start to shrink, add the garlic and continue to fry until the garlic and shallots are browned.

Add the meat when the vegetables soften, and add a splash of soy sauce and about 2-3 tsp sesame oil to infuse the fragrance. Stir-fry until browned and cooked through, then set aside.

Liberally salt your water and boil your noodles for 4-6 minutes (depending on the brand/type of noodles this may vary, please see packet for instructions).

While the noodles cook, prepare the sauce. Combine the Shaoxing, Lao Gan Ma, mala oil, soy sauce, sesame oil, sugar, and tahini in a bowl, then mix well. Pop the mixture back into the pan with the meat, and quickly mix together on low heat to warm it up.

Strain your noodles and divide into bowls. Top with the meat sauce and serve immediately.

Optional: serve with boiled eggs marinated overnight in soy sauce. Hard boil your eggs and peel them, before leaving them to sit in a tupperware container overnight in the fridge, submerged in 1/4 cup dark soy sauce and 1/2 cup water. Serve cold as a side to your noodles.

#Food #the elder scrolls #tes #cooking #Dunmer #Recipe #Recipes #dark elf #dark elves #Tamriel #Noodles #games #gamer #gaming #geek #Meat #meat recipes #Sadri's nix-hound noodles

296 notes · View notes

buffetlicious · 4 months

Text

The lazy Susan was quickly filled with dishes as we continued with our reunion dinner. The Prawn Paste Chicken (虾酱鸡) featured plump and juicy mid-wings coated in a batter of fermented shrimp paste. Also known as Har Cheong Gai, it is crispy with an umami aftertaste and a hit with young and old.

The stir-fried French Bean with Dried Shrimp (虾米四季豆) might look deceptively plain but plain and simple it is not! The string beans or green beans is flash-fried with minced hae bee (dried shrimps) to absorb the wok hei (wok thermal radiation or breath of the wok) yet maintained the crunchy texture and aroma of the sea (dried shrimp). This dish was one of the highlights of the dinner.

My nephew asked for this Fried Rice with Chicken (鸡丁炒饭) as he preferred it over the steamed white rice the rest of us are having. The Yam Ring (佛钵飘香) featured a ring of deep-fried mashed yam (taro) and filled with sautéed seafood such as prawn, squid and also various vegetables. Normally one would also find cashew nuts in it, but I didn’t notice any this time. Plating is done haphazardly as the chef just poured everything into the yam ring. If I will to do it, I would place the vegetables at the bottom and present the seafood on top with a sprinkle of crunchy cashew nuts over it. Anyway, dish is passable but not fantastic in taste and an “F” for presentation.

Popeye’s power booster canned vegetable is reimagined into Spinach with Trio Eggs (三皇苋菜). To enhance the power, three kinds of egg are used – normal chicken egg, preserved century egg and salted duck egg. Finally, the eyes is also protected with goji berry or wolfberry added into the thick soup. With all the above ingredients used, how can a vegetable soup like this not be good for you?

Fish Maw & Crab Meat Soup (蟹肉鱼鳔羮) is the most expensive dish of the night at S$45 (large portion) due to the two premium ingredients. The thickened soup is chocked with the spongy fish maw, succulent crab meat and I also detected mushrooms in there. Before eating, drizzle a few drops of the black vinegar and add a dash of white pepper.

The Emperor Chicken (皇帝鸡) is also known as herbal chicken. In the olden days, the emperor’s diet was strictly prescribed and monitored by physicians, because it was important for the emperor to be in excellent health in order to focus on governing the Kingdom. This was one of the healthy dishes the emperor ate! The chicken is wrapped in the waxed paper and aluminum foil then steamed for a few hours until the meat is tender and the flavours of the herbs is infused into the chicken.

The last dish to be served is the Poached Prawns (白灼虾). If the ingredients are fresh, you just need minimum condiments and simple cooking style to bring out the best in taste. So here the prawns are boiled in basically water, ginger and scallion for a couple of minutes at most. Chinese cooking wine is then drizzled into the broth to enhance the overall flavours.

For this reunion meal, we spent S$331.76 for the dishes, steamed rice and drinks including 10% service charge. I can foresee the next year we will be back here for our dinner again. After all the food is good and the place is nearby our houses.

36 notes · View notes

midnightsun-if · 4 months

Note

🍕 - What is their favorite food? 👀

Koda: Venison Stew— specifically the kind that his mother makes. He also has always enjoyed fish of all types too— mainly salmon and cod.

Scarlett: AB- Blood. She enjoys wine, I know that’s not actually food, but she doesn’t truly eat like that. She has always enjoyed chocolate covered strawberries though— if that counts.

Cyrus/Cyra: They love all things spicy— it gives their food exactly the kick they crave. One of their favorite dishes is pasta with a cream sauce infused with various peppers (including the California Reaper).

Quinn: It’s fairly boring but they’ve always enjoyed either salad (due to the various things you can put in them) or steak with fried potatoes.

Caden: They’ve always enjoyed cotton candy— the way that it melts in your mouth and can remind someone of simpler times.

Sloane: Can beer be an option? No? Sloane enjoys a variety of things, but a quick way to their heart is making them either shrimp or steak fried rice.

Blake: Muffins. Any kind of muffin. They will consume the whole bakery section if they’re allowed to do so, which is why they’re typically supervised when in said area.

Reginald/Regina: Breakfast has always been one of their favorite meal times, which is why a lot of their favorite foods come from that category. Pancakes, waffles, biscuits and gravy… Their all time favorite is cinnamon rolls though.

#midnight sun #asks #ro: blake herrera #ro: r presley #ro: c aurelia #ro: quinn grant #ro: sloane addams #ro: koda kingston #ro: caden randall #ro: scarlett voltaire #ask games

43 notes · View notes

strawheart-pirate · 6 months

Text

Revelations

Donquixote Rosinante x gn!Reader

December 13th 2023 Words: 888 CW: SFW, Fluff, modern AU, established relationship, food, Rosinante’s nickname is Cora or Corazon

It was Christmas Day and that meant your brother-in-law was coming to dinner. You were worried because he had high expectations and your partner... well, he's a bit clumsy. Let's see if Corazon's wish for a perfect Christmas dinner comes true.

"We'll have smoked salmon with beetroot and vodka crème fraîche as an appetizer, roast turkey with lemon, parsley and garlic as the main course, with scalloped potatoes and cacio e pepe Brussels sprouts as a side dish. And for dessert, we'll have vanilla-infused panna cotta with a pomegranate glaze. How does that sound?" Cora smiled as he read the Christmas menu to you.

"Sounds wonderful, how can I help?" you asked as you tied on your apron.

"You can start with the potatoes while I stuff the turkey."

"All right." You smiled and began to peel the potatoes. You had a certain routine in the kitchen, so it was no big deal to clean and thinly slice the potatoes. Occasionally you watched Cora struggle with the turkey. You could see that he was very focused on what he was doing because his tongue stuck out a little, and that brought a warm smile to your face.

The two of you worked in sync and finished the preparation in no time. You had already prepared the plates for the starters and dessert, so nothing could go wrong with those dishes. Meanwhile, Cora was already putting the turkey in the oven, since it would take the most time to cook.

"All done, thank you." Cora came over and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

"Anytime." You smiled as you set the table.

The afternoon passed in eerie harmony. Cora didn't set anything on fire or trip over his own feet. It was suspicious. An hour before Doflamingo arrived for dinner, you showered and dried your hair. You were about to put on your favorite Christmas sweater when you heard a loud bang coming from the kitchen. You threw your sweater on the bed, ran downstairs, and found Cora on the floor with the still-raw turkey in his lap and shards all around him. The glass of the oven door was shattered, and he looked like a beaten puppy.

"Oh dear ... What happened?" You helped him up and wiped the broken pieces off him. He placed the turkey on the counter.

"I ... I checked on the turkey and ... noticed that the oven wasn't on at all and somehow ... the door ... broke and I got scared and ... the turkey ... somehow ... flew right into my lap." Corazon stood there stunned, looking at the broken oven door.

You looked at the clock. "It's not your fault, Cora. We'll find a solution," you said, reassuring the big man with a gentle hug. "Go get ready so you're ready when your brother arrives, and I'll find a solution.

"Why is everything closed on Christmas Day?" You complained as you drove around town trying to find a place to get something to eat. After cleaning up the mess while Cora got ready, the two of you decided to get takeout for the main course. The turkey, potatoes, and Brussels sprouts were still raw, and there simply wasn't enough time to get everything ready before Doffy arrived. So, you drove aimlessly and frantically around town while Cora waited for his brother.

After hours of searching for food, you pulled into your driveway and hurried into the house with the food. You were relieved to find Cora and Doffy in the living room, chatting amiably and drinking wine as you sneaked the containers into the kitchen before going to greet your guest.

"I'm back. Hey, Doffy." You hugged your brother-in-law and winked at Cora. "Shall we eat?"

"Ah, finally. I almost had the feeling that Corazon was hiding something from me, but there you are. Fufufufu." Doffy laughed, and I saw Cora start to sweat.

"Oh, are you worried, Doffy?" You teased.

"Of course, I am. I just want what's best for my family." He grinned wickedly.

After serving the prepared starters, you sat down at the table and began to eat. The salmon was delicious, and you complimented Cora on the vodka crème fraîche he had prepared. Even his brother didn't make any snide comments about the food, he even seemed to like it. But you could never be sure because he never took off his sunglasses. You grabbed the empty plates and went into the kitchen to prepare the main course. You were so nervous as you arranged the food neatly on the plates, even adding fresh parsley to make it look home-cooked. You straightened your back and went back into the dining room to serve the plates.

Everyone dug into the warm and delicious smelling food, but you found it hard to eat because you were so nervous. You watched Doffy's every move, and after he took a few bites of his chicken and sides, you were finally able to relax and eat your share without tension.

That was until he spoke.

"Why does this food taste like KFC?"

Silence. You felt like you'd been caught out. Who were you kidding? He was Doflamingo and you thought you could fool him with cheap fried chicken from KFC? Pathetic…

"Because..." You were about to spill everything to him and explain it when Cora interrupted you with a questioning look on his face.

"Wait, how does your gourmet palate know what KFC tastes like?"

The look on Doffy's face was the best Christmas present you could have asked for.

All content unless otherwise stated belongs to: ©Strawheart-pirate. Please do not copy / modify / translate / repost my writing, banners or art on other platforms. Comments, reblogs or likes are highly appreciated! Snowflake banner by ©firefly-graphics

#one piece #donquixote rosinante #donquixote rosinante x reader #donquixote rosinante x you #gn reader #fan fiction #sfw #strawheart-pirate.events #strawheart-pirate.christmas countdown 2023 #strawheart-pirate.writing

23 notes · View notes