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#cooking is my love language

bloodofgrapes · 1 year

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I started reading Dungeon Meshi

I was fully expecting to go nuts for that dwarf guy but

this man is so completely my type I am utterly smitten, I want to cook for him so bad it's making me stupid

#cooking is my love language #this man would be down on one knee within the week #the little blush #I am NOT going to recover oh my goodness

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i-cant-sing · 11 months

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Omg No i mean bisexuell, i think translater hate me.....MÜLLEIMER

Dw, I was just joking around. But if you must know, I am straight.

But I will never say no to dates with my female friends. Please baby, let me cook food for you. I make the best desserts and really good rose pasta🥺🥺🥺

#please say yes #cooking is my love language

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soulinkpoetry · 10 months

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Fancy restaurants are okay once in a while, but nothing beats a home cooked meal prepared with love from mom or dad. And you certainly don’t need complicated steps that take hours for it to taste delicious, only fresh ingredients and some effort.

Sorry I had to repost due to a typo 😑

#cooking is my love language #i love cooking #fresh food #cooking from scratch #soulinkpoetry #poetry #she writes #thoughts #feelings #poets on tumblr #food quotes

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sleepysuccubi · 7 months

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About to make some banana bread because I’m feeling productive

#I’d literally be the best housewife ever #just need someone to kill/catch and release spiders for me and I’m good #cooking is my love language

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forest-pirate · 2 years

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I made beef stew today, and just want someone to appreciate that

#joeys coffee break #cooking is my love language #cooking #stew #beef stew

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profit-of-doom · 1 year

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I absolutely love cooking 😻 I made a beef stew for the first time yesterday and when i was serving my home cooked meal into a bowl for my partner, it ignited something in me from a past life. It felt so right and natural, like part of my DNA.

#cooking is my love language #especially cooking for my partner ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️#makes my heart explode #I can’t wait to have my own kitchen.

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stagefoureddiediaz · 21 days

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Buck having a cooking magazine on his table is my new favourite Bucks apartment thing!!

#Buck following Bobby and becoming a great cook makes my heart melt #his love language is cooking for others and its adorable #911 spoilers #evan buckley #911 abc #bucks apartment

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simplelittlebrowngirljae · 2 years

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Sunday Meal Prep: Chipotle Shrimp and Kale Rice

I know I haven't posted in a while so I figured I'd share this great recipe I tried this week: chipolte shrimp and rice. Lately I have found it's getting harder for me to digest chicken, so I've been eating more fish and shrimp. So I've been looking to try many different recipes than just pasta dishes or fried shrimp.

I stumbled across this on Pintrest, but I put my own little spin on it and it came out GREAT!! It was so easy to make and I encourage you to try it too!!

Chipolte Sauce

1/2 cup mayo

1 cup sour cream

1/2 lime, juiced

1 clove garlic minced

1/4 can Chipotle peppers in adobo sauce

Pinch of salt

Combine ingredients in food processor and blend until smooth. Set sauce aside until ready to use.

Shrimp Dish

1 pound shrimp

1 red bell pepper, chopper

1 jalapeño, chopped

1/2 red onion, chopped

1 green onion, chopped, use the white part and save the green part for garnish

1/4 cup milk

3 cloves garlic, minced and divided

Olive oil, 2 tablespoons

1 tsp black pepper

1 tsp paprika

1 tsp onion powder

1 tsp salt

Chipolte sauce

Rinse and dry shrimp. Season with salt, pepper, onion powder, paprika and one clove of garlic. Heat olive oil in a skillet. Add shrimp and cook until light pink. Remove and set aside. In same skillet, add red pepper, jalapeño, red onion and green onion and remaining garlic and saute until cooked down. Add chipolte sauce and let simmer. Add 1/4 cup of milk or less to thin out. Add shrimp in and let continue to cook down. Serve with rice and garnish with green onions.

Kale rice

2 tablespoons butter

1/4 sweet onion

1 tablespoon minced garlic

1 cup kale, chopped finely

1 cup long grain rice

1 bouillon cube

1/4 cup low sodium chicken broth

1 cup water

In a saucepan, melt butter and saute onions, garlic and kale. Once kale begins to wilt, add in bouillon cube and break apart with spoon. Add in rice and saute for 2 minutes. Add in broth and water. Cover and let cook down. Once water is absorbed, fluff rice and enjoy!

#chronicallyillandstrong #chronicillnesswarrior #autoimmunelife #goodfoodgoodmood #foodismedicine #lupie #mealprep #easycooking #easyliving #selfcare #relaxation #cooking is my love language

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smittenskitten · 1 year

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(+) Cooking for beloved

Jack o' Frost (2023) My Tooth Your Love (2022) Roommates of Poongduck 304 (2022) Girlfriend Project Day 1 (2022) Sleep With Me (2022) Fukou-kun wa Kiss Suru Shikanai! (2022) Cutie Pie (2022) 30-sai made Dotei Da to Mahotsukai ni Nareru rashii (2020) Kinou Nani Tabeta? (2019) Ossan's Love (2018)

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monpalace · 1 year

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ships .. (ocarina of time/majora's mask) link/reader, fierce deity/reader.

content .. the boys (separately) with a reader who feeds them well, and the fruits of their loving labor.

warnings .. unedited. no pronouns used (you/your). reader is implied to have more meat on their bones (vaguely). reader is in their housespouse era and they aren't even married (legally). non-graphic vomit and forgetting to eat mentioned (link). link and fierce deity are taller than reader. fierce deity is named aram for writings sake. reader is implied to be a god of sorts (fierce deity). fierce deity is literally my oc at this point.

notes .. my schnookums thought they could have big cheeks and get away from me? my cutie patooties thought that i wouldn't write about them eating right? my pookie bears thought that i wouldn't fulfill my duties as their #1? my baby faced sweethearts thought i wouldn't spend 2hrs looking for pictures like those? my favorite white boys? my honeybuns? my hollywood stars? my sugarpies?

i'll eat them. omnom

LINK has always been rather thin. That was especially the case when he was a child. Something about a Kokiri child's diet not fitting what a Hylian needed always kept him frail.

When you both were children, he had quickly gotten used to you plucking his arm when it was idle to compare his lack of fat to your surplus.

(He never minded. He always looked forward to being reminded why he put one foot in front of the other every day during his fight against Ganon, or repeated cycle after cycle when it came to Majora.)

(Funnily enough, you had always made fun of him for being shorter than you as a child as well. You always mentioned he needed to drink more milk and eat more cuccos so he'd one day pass you.)

It was when you were able to cook more than simple meals and wouldn't risk burning down your cottage that you would invite (force) Link over more often than you already have.

Link had always tried to limit his visits to when he absolutely needed to. Free food, bed, shelter, care, supplies, clothes, bathes (the list was endless), and whatnot were always appreciated, but he never wanted to become to comfortable lest he wake up one day (or night. Or afternoon. His internal clock was always ruined when it came to sleeping at your cabin) and decide not return to the world outside.

He does his best to turn down any seconds, or thirds, or fourths, or fifths, and so on you may offer him when he does stay long enough for you to finish whatever extravagant meal you made just for him.

Past experiences often make him sick (with trauma or physically) and result in him vomiting his food, but there's always more from you to replace what he had just eaten and the meal before (if he remembered to eat it).

What he can't finish at the table (or on the sofa, or in the bed), he takes with him when he leaves. Link is respectful in all meanings of the word and hates to leave anything to waste.

When it comes to thanks, he either finds ways to help around your cottage or brings back items from new regions for you to cook. Whether it be repairing the busted bathroom door you've been complaining about before fixing your water faucet so the pressure is what you want it to be, or bringing back a spice the Gorons specialize in you've mentioned wanting to try, Link typically feels his gifts fall lackluster when compared to your treatment of him.

(He trusts your skill and creativity enough to know you won't poison him on accident. He never brings back any recipes or instructions either if it's not a dangerous material.)

(He's always excited to try whatever new dish you've concocted, so his only condition is that you wait for his return to cook whatever it is he brought you. "A celebration, of sorts," he calls it.)

A look in a lone puddle had told him his cheeks had gotten fatter. He supposes he now understands why he was refused entry into one of the pubs when he had to retrieve Malon and Cremia's uncle.

He had noticed that the details of his arms were less visible through his shirts when a Goron had pinched one,— not in the same way you did when you were younger— he had mentioned that he had an amount of muscle and fat to be proud of before asking him to join a tournament. Any attempts prior to were quickly shut down.

During a day of horseback archery with the Gerudo, the sweltering sun had gotten to him enough that he had to remove his tunic and the shirt underneath to feel some sort of relief. One of the women who were training him took a look at his stomach and nodded approvingly, mentioning that he should praise his soon-to-be spouse for feeding him so well.

The last nail in the coffin came when he was riding Epona into Castle Town. His tunic felt uncomfortably small and his tights (curse those damned tights) felt as thought they were stretched more across the expanse of his thighs than they usually were.

He's back in your cottage when he finally vocalizes his thoughts, preferring you to any other tailor or seamstress in the country. "I've gotten to big for my clothes," he either sighs or signs to you while eating. His gaze held a thousand yards in them, idly watching his clothes move with the wind.

The tunic, hat, tights, boots hang outside the window on a string connected to your shed. They had to be washed after a (admittedly well-planned— even if they don't think) ambush by a hoard of chu-chus.

You throw a hazy look to them before returning to the bowl you were tirelessly mixing. You were making dinner, he thinks, or maybe it was in preparation for the big breakfast you were making with the variety of bread from the Gerudo he brought back.

You'd already given him a large snack earlier.

The thought makes him look down at the plate in his lap. Every spot of it was filled and piled with bread, and eggs, and meats, and jams. He couldn't see the white bottom of it even as he pushed and prodded around.

He takes a bite of it gratefully.

"I saw you before you left not even three days ago. You fit everything fine enough to me." At some point you had stopped stirring and held the bowl out to him. Link grabs something off the plate and dips it in without a thought, eating it before responding with a hum of approval. "I can make adjustments to then, if you'd like."

You leave the bowl with him before attending to something on the stove.

"Please," he responds, halfway through another bite of the (what he now recognized as) Gerudo bread and cocoa dip you had made. "Different pants would be nice, though. It'd be a nice excuse to finally get rid of those tights." Both tasted sweet by themselves, he realized, but left a calmer aftertaste that he'd like to savor.

"You've always hated the tights," you hum in response, moving from the stove to the coolers that he'd built you after bringing you a large fish that only lived in Zora's Domain. "What would you want to move on to now? Leggings? Shorts?"

Link watches you remove a pitcher from one of the coolers. He isn't sure how long it's been in there (he doesn't even remember watching you make it), but he assumes you took some ice out so the pink liquid wouldn't freeze over into complete ice.

He watches you try to take a cup from one of the cupboards, watching you struggle to grab his favorite one from the higher shelves.

He stands from the chair sat just outside the kitchen (he liked to watch you cook when you had the time), placing the bowl and plate on one of the many cleared counters (you liked to clean as you worked), and grabs the cup for you.

Link lowers his head with his hand when he hands the cup off, head resting upon the crown of yours as he watches you pour the pink liquid into it, idle arms wrapping around your waist as he makes some slick comment about eating enough milk and cuccos for your liking.

You don't elbow him in the stomach like you might have when you were younger and he doesn't hold the cup above your head teasingly like when he was younger to (— then again, he had to climb a counter to get it out of your reach.)

Instead, you wordlessly pass the cup back to him and he wordlessly drinks it despite not knowing what it was.

He likes it, as he does all your works, and notes how it was both sweet and sour. A taste that fills both his childhood need for sweet all the time and his older palate's need for other tastes.

Handing the cup back, Link tilts his head so he can press a kiss to your crown. "Anything you'd think I'd look good in," he finally responds, the flavor of the moment leaving a tooth-achingly sweet taste on his tongue.

ARAM is often humbled in your abode.

He may have acted arrogant to others in his younger years and horrifyingly aloof now that he's a more seasoned god, but he never failed to (willingly) crumble to his knees when in your presence during either times of his life.

He had no need for the sustenance mortals require, prayers and whispers of his name were always good enough for him, but he'd kiss the ground you walk on if it meant you'd bless him with another food you've created (he already does).

Aram is the provider to your fire-lit home, an arrangement the two have been living by for as long as he can remember.

He is the sword to your shield. The arrow to your quiver. The moon to ever burning sun (which he did create for you, after all). The wound for your gauze. The life to your world— and one cannot live peacefully without the other.

Your food had quickly become an addiction to Aram. He'd eat as much as often as he could, giving little response to when questioned why he loves it so much.

("Because it comes from your hands," he once explained hours later when you were sleeping. "Your hands, that create all. That nourish all it touches and replenishes all that is extinct. I am your antithesis, and I must destroy that which I love."

(You never had the heart to ask again.)

He has enough sense to slow his eating around you. One concerned comment about him choking was enough for him to indulge in needless your wishes, but a question regarding its taste had him eating like a mortal.

His relationship with food prior to getting hooked onto yours was brief and filled with obligation. He never ate to feel full, only to make the people he was fighting with shut up and leave him out of whatever conversation they were having.

It never lingered in his stomach like a warm fireplace that others had described it as. It never made him warm and filled with love. It never gave him the energy he needed to keep fighting.

It just went through his digestive tract (why did he even have one?) and disappeared like an heavy smog finally dispersed by a strong gust of wind before he had to fight again.

When a war was over, you always came. You took the battle-shaken soldiers away when it was their time and healed their ailments if they were able to withstand everything. You went through war-stricken cities and set everything as they should have been. You feed and clothe and bandage and sew and reunite and Aram isn't sure why he lingered.

He's seen the effects of what you can do long after you've left. He knows of the good you're capable of doing just as much as he knows the bad he can cause.

He craves your touch when he sees it at its peak. He indulges himself when he sees it first-hand.

Aram understands what the soldiers mean when you beckon him closer and offer him food, uncaring of how he stands tall above all else.

The soup warms his insides. The flavor resides on his tongue hours after he's finished it. His energy, though far from depleted, had made him feel as though he were a youngling again.

He craves more.

The addiction to your presence and your food (and subsequently, you) had started then. It's an event he could easily recall when asked, one he would happily recount to you if you ever forgot where his devotion to you started.

Meeting after a war or battle had become frequent enough that he had finally learned your name; not some silly alias those who followed you often referred to you as. He felt like one of those lovesick children soldiers talk about, tripping over himself and his words.

He's curious to you, an admirer more than a stalker, fortunately. When he wasn't on the battlefront, he was always hovering around as you worked, busying his hands with whatever task you've given him after noticing his lack of mortality.

You treated him well; doing so even after the era of wars were long gone and he was seldom needed. You cared for him as though he were one of the many wounded soldiers with no family to return to once all was done and said— and to an extent, he was.

He's eating when you bring attention to his softer thigh.

You were reading to him, a romantic thriller that held as much of his attention that your captivating voice did. His gaze focused heavily on you, watching as you lick your lips after each page, how your eyes rake over the page to ensure the tone you speak the next sentence in is correct. He notes how you shift less often, how he doesn't have to move you further up his lap so you can lean against his stomach.

"It's not as painful to sit on you anymore." Aram doesn't think that line was in the book, but he doesn't mention it. It dawns that you were talking to him when you look up, using your finger as a bookmark as you closed the book around it. "Have you gained weight?"

He's a big man; it's a fact he's known since the beginning of his existence. He has large arms, muscles well know for how he snatched prey up to bring back to you. His height made it a simple feat to reach into the trees and capture any avian you wanted to experiment with that night. His legs that would stomp on any fish swimming downstream during a day at the lake you suggested.

He was sculpted by the Goddesses themselves. If they hadn't meant for his body to change along with his lifestyle, they wouldn't have designed him to dough.

(He'd never be ashamed in the fact either. He was contented knowing he had someone to dote over him constantly; a sentiment he had gained after recalling a conversation with wedded soldiers.)

(Also, the prospect of defacing what the Goddesses had long since disgraced was exciting, in a way.)

Aram doesn't look at himself, already well-acquainted with his body as his brow raises in amusement. "You feed me well, My Grace," he responds with a peck on your temple, "I would hope to become more comfortable for your pleasure." He refused to stop eating as he indulged you in conversation, the leg you sat on jumping once in place of his busy hands.

You hum that sweet, quiet hum of yours that Aram has come to associate with your contentedness (he aimed to hear to several tomes every day). Removing yourself from his lap, discarding the novel to the side as you raise your hands to cup his cheeks. "It suits you. You look healthy. Happy."

"Did I look ill before?"

You don't fluster as you might have like in your younger years. He's honored to have grown alongside you, reminiscent of the older couples you've both watched and escorted when he was still an active god.

The same filling feeling your food gives him fills his heart. The lingering sense of peace that he felt since meeting you dancing through his body when your thumbs rub the apples of his cheeks, the softest and fondest gaze anyone's ever given him in your eyes.

"No," you answer in a quiet voice only he'd be able to hear. "Never. You've always looked perfect."

And Aram has never been more thankful that he separated himself from the Goddesses as he preens under your touch. Never been more thankful that he lingered after the war was done. Never been more thankful that he had readjusted his psyche to more readily accept your gifts and affection.

He frees a hand to cradle to back of your head, a threat to all that aren't you, and brings you beneath his chin in a protective gesture. "As have you," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. "And as you always will be."

#there's a mental health stat for link in oot/mm now.#the only way to keep it up (and him in good shape) is to go back and visit his s/o's house often and interact with them <3 #(you are immediately entered into one of those cutscenes with the grandma that tells the story of the giants from majoras mask-- but instead #of only telling you stories; you get to watch them do domestic things)#unless sky and wind have some photos dropped that reveal they have fat cheeks 2 im never doing this again #i am my oc. my ocs love language is food. i cannot cook.#elvira's notebook #legend of zelda x reader #loz x reader #linked universe x reader #lu x reader #ocarina of time x reader #majora's mask x reader #mm x reader #x reader #link x reader #fierce deity x reader #legend of zelda link x reader #loz link x reader #legend of zelda fierce deity x reader #loz fierce deity x reader #linked universe link x reader #lu link x reader #linked universe fierce deity x reader #lu fierce deity x reader #time x reader #legend of zelda time x reader #loz time x reader #linked universe time x reader #lu time x reader

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skyloftian-nutcase · 27 days

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It was a dull, rainy morning as Warriors made his way home. The shift had been fairly mundane, but the weather and being on his feet all night still left him exhausted.

His mind was a fog as he climbed the stairs to his apartment. Sometimes he tried to debrief on his walks home, but most times he couldn’t quite settle his thoughts on any one thing. Thankfully he didn’t have anything too terrible to debrief today.

It was silly to even think he needed such things. Nothing really bothered him these days. As frustrating as civilian healthcare could be, it was rarely traumatic in the way wartime nursing had been.

Maybe I am more pensive than I thought, he mused with a weak huff as he unlocked the door.

His mind snapped into focus as strange smells hit his nostrils before immediately registering them. Syrup, eggs, sausage, bacon, biscuits.

Furrowing his brow, Warriors slowly moved inside and went to the kitchen to find Wind in wrinkled pajamas, hair a hot mess, finishing up making an omelette.

“You’re up awfully early,” Wars noted.

Wind jumped a little, fumbling the omelette and nearly spilling it on the stove top, and then he turned to smile at his brother in all but blood. “I’m making breakfast!”

“I see that,” Wars acknowledged with a smile. “What’s the occasion? Aren’t classes later?”

Wind’s sleepy cheer sobered, and he waved the spatula like it was a baton. “Well, after meeting the old man’s wife, I decided that Time isn’t the only one who needs someone to take care of him. So I’ve decided to make breakfast for you when you get off work.”

Warriors stared at the teenager, lost for words. He… his chest warmed unexpectedly, throat thick with emotion.

“Don’t expect it every time,” Wind warned him a little halfheartedly. “I know for sure I can’t get up this early every time. But I figured when you finish a stretch—”

“That’s fine,” Warriors interrupted, biting his tongue as he still fought with emotions. Then he gave a genuine smile. “Thanks, kiddo.”

Wind’s smile in return was as bright as the sun, and he gave Warriors a tight hug.

#writing #lu in healthcare #lu warriors #lu wind #cooking as a love language my beloved #Skye time travels through the queue

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randomprose · 9 months

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“Can you make this?”

Mo Guan Shan frowns at He Tian’s phone when he angles it in his direction. It’s a video of someone making cute rectangular layered cakes.

He tilts his head a little, lower jaw jutting out in consideration, and He Tian knows Mo Guan Shan will make it anyway regardless of whatever he’s gonna say next.

"You into this shit?"

He Tian just shrugs. It's cute. He's into cute shit and he's not afraid to admit it. "It looks tasty."

"Hm," Mo Guan Shan hums with a non-committal shrug. "I'll try I guess."

'Try' he said as if that isn't as good as a yes. He Tian knows Mo Guan Shan won't just try. The second the question left He Tian’s lips Mo Guan Shan already took it as a challenge. He'll fucking do it and blow He Tian's mind in the process at how way better and prettier his version will be than the one in the video. Just like all the other times He Tian has shown him foods he thinks are interesting. It's as good as done at this point.

See, it’s like this. Outside of work, the foods Mo Guan Shan cooks are just a rotation of his and He Tian’s favorite or any dish He Tian has mentioned even in passing that he likes. Mo Guan Shan has picked up on He Tian's picky eating habits and developed an instinct to mentally cataloguing He Tian’s niche food preferences and all the subtle ways he’s let them known. In his published cookbooks, at least half of the foods featured are a variation of what suits He Tian’s tastes and all of them have ‘For 贺天’ printed on the first page.

God. He Tian loves him so much. What the hell did he do in his past life to deserve such devotion?

The weekend rolls around and Mo Guan Shan presents He Tian with his own version of the cakes.

He Tian, as he expected, is floored by how pretty they are that he doesn’t even say anything. He just stares at the little rectangular cakes in pastels decorated with intricate shapes made of fondant and meticulously piped icing.

"What's wrong?" There's worry in Mo Guang Shan’s voice seeping into defensive. "What? You don't like it?"

"No, its..." He Tian looks up at him, brows furrowed and a look of genuine conflict on his face. "They're too pretty. I kinda don't wanna eat them."

“Idiot,” Mo Guan Shan just scoffs and rolls of his eyes but the slight quirk at the corner of his lips lets He Tian know he’s pleased. "Just eat it. Food is meant to be consumed. I can always make more."

"These are definitely way, waaaay cuter than the ones in the video I showed you."

"They're okay. You're just exaggerating."

"No, I'm not," He Tian insists. "When have I ever lied to you?"

Mo Guan Shan stares at him. He looks to be considering He Tian's words for a moment before nodding curtly.

He Tian takes what seems like a thousand pictures and sends them to their group chat with Jian Yi and Zhang Zheng Xi, to his brother, and then to Brother Qiu with a very proud caption of 'Momo made these for me~. They’re pretty AND they taste great~.’'

He revels in Jian Yi exploding in the group chat and demanding Mo Guan Shan make some for him and Zhan Zheng Xi too.

‘Heh,’ He Tian types with a smug smile, ‘Eat your heart out, bitch.’

(He Cheng thumbs-upped his message while Brother Qiu’s reply was to tell Mo Guan Shang to bring some over the next time they come to the mansion. To which He Tian replies a very empathic ‘No <3’).

When he’s done gloating, He Tian turns back to Mo Guan Shan and knows by the look on his face that he’s already thinking about including the cakes in his next cookbook. He thinks that if Mo Guan Shan ever gets his own restaurant, he’ll make it so at least half of the menu will be to He Tian’s liking.

"I love you," He Tian says and means it. Because he really does and because he doesn’t know any other way of saying it.

"Wha—" Mo Guan Shan blinks, a flower fondant halfway to his mouth, and looks at He Tian weirdly. "Just because of this? You're too easy."

For Mo Guan Shan? He really is. Always has been and always will be.

"You take care of me so well." Mo Guan Shan's loudest love language has always been food and He Tian still can't believe how lucky he is that he gets to have this. “I’ve gotten spoiled.”

“You’ve always been spoiled,” Mo Guan Shan retorts as he bumps a forkful of chiffon against He Tian’s lips. "Shut up and eat your damn cake."

I love you too.

#19 days #tianshan #he tian #mo guan shan #food as a love language #writing #if there is one thing MGS will do for HT it's to cook for him #cooking is some high level shit show of love ok #it's not even a 'labor' of love it's just is #it's not something he 'does eventhough it's hard' it's something he truly wants to do for HT ok #at least in my head #cooking for someone is just another way to say you love them

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an1m3bunbun · 10 months

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Forcing General!Lilia to finally take care of himself after a very busy day. Helping him take his armor and uniform off, as he breaths a sigh of relief, since he finally feels free.....

Leading him to a steaming bathtub, helping him undress and get in the water. By this point he's still complaining of not needing all of this, but those complaints die down as soon as you gently touch his chest with a washing cloth, wiping away the dirt, sweat and frustration as he starts to relax and enjoy the feeling of being taken care of....

Washing his hair and massaging his scalp will cause him to purr. He hardly does it, as he never really feels safe enough to be this relaxed, always having the protection of those close to him in mind.

As the water starts to get cooler, helping him out and letting him dry himself off, while getting some fresh, comfortable clothes.

Leading him towards the bed, sitting him down to comb and braid his hair, before pulling him under the covers to cuddle and hold each other. Giving him soft kisses, as he tries to pull you even closer, even though that's not possible, while rubbing his nose against yours.

He is thankful for all of it, even if he can't express it right now. But he makes a mental note to cook something for the both of you. Good luck with that.

#lilia vanrouge #lilia x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland lilia #twisted wonderland lilia x reader #twst lilia #twisted wonderland book 7 #One day I'll share my unhinged thoughts and ideas #But for now it's gonna be fluff #Anyway fun fact:#Bats can purr #You can't really hear it but you can feel their bodies vibrating #And they rub their noses against each other to show affection.#Hhhhhhhhhh I'm a sucker for non-s3xual intimacy.......#And I'm a firm believer that his love language is acts of service which is why he tries to cook for people he likes.

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forest-pirate · 2 years

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Just saying, if I offer to cook you food I love you.

#joeys coffee break #cooking #cooking is my love language #let me cook for you #asd #special intrest #me

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