woah woah woah hi!!! Could I request a rye cookie with timid softie reader?
SORRY I've been getting so lazy recently 🙏🏼 mb gang
we genuinely need more banners vro 🥀🥀
— Dating Hc's for Rye cookie!
🌾
• Rye Cookie’s used to gunfire, bandits, and bravado—so the first time you quietly offered her a drink with a shy little smile? She choked. Blushed. Absolutely panicked.
You were gentle. Soft-spoken. Nothing like the ruckus she’s used to—and she was hooked.
• Rye Cookie has a lotta presence—swagger, confidence, and that classic cowboy (or girl) smirk. But the moment you're nearby? She's suddenly quieter. More careful. She'll hold your hand like she’s afraid of breaking you—thumb gently brushing the back. Always keeping you close, but never smothering you.
“Well hey there, sugar. That’s a mighty pretty smile ya got.”
• She lives for watching your face go red, your fingers twiddling as you hide behind your sleeves. She’ll nudge your shoulder and laugh, but she always makes sure you're comfortable. The second you seem overwhelmed? She cools it and just sits beside you in easy silence.
• Rye cookie goes out hunting bandits and troublemakers, and every time, you’re anxiously waiting at home with fresh bandages and tea. She ruffles your hair and calls you her little medic.
“Ain’t nothin’ out there gonna keep me from comin’ home to you.”
• You’re the only one she lets fuss over her. Wipe the dirt from her cheeks, fix her scarf, stroke her hair after a long day. She melts under your hands—eyes closed, tension gone. She’ll murmur, “You’re real good at this, y’know… makin’ me feel safe.”
• Darlin’, lil’ dove, sugarcube, blossom, sweet pea. She’s got a whole holster of them. You call her “Rye” in your soft voice, and she practically swoons.
• Someone dares to tease you? Speak over you?
“You got somethin’ to say to my partner, say it with some respect.”
• Then she tips her hat and drapes an arm over your shoulder protectively, walking you away with a wink and a soft, “Don’t worry, sugar. I got your back.”
•She takes you out on quiet rides just to sit under the stars. No bandits, no danger—just the sound of the wind and her hand in yours. Sometimes, when you shyly kiss her cheek, she freezes… then lets out the softest laugh. “Well ain’t you just full of surprises?”
Can I request Peach Blossom Cookie kissing attack hcs?
Summary: He just tries and find GN! y/n to give them kisses and will chase after them just to pepper the face with kisses, leaves pink lipstick marks 💄
OMG YES??
— Kiss attack! ,, peach blossom cookie x reader!
🍑🌸
• Once Peach Blossom cookie decides it’s Kiss O’Clock, it’s over for you. No matter where you are—taking a nap, in the kitchen, walking down the hall—you will hear a cheerful, dramatic, “There you are, darling!!” before he launches himself into your arms.
• Try to escape? Oh honey, he lives for it. He’ll sprint after you with arms open, lips puckered, shouting things like, “Accept your fate, sugarplum!” or “I only wanna love you a little bit~!” You might make it a few feet before he tackles you in a flurry of kisses.
• He wears this soft, peachy-pink lipstick that somehow always transfers—on your forehead, cheeks, nose, jaw, and sometimes even your shoulders if your collar’s a little wide. Afterwards you look like you got smooched by a cartoon heartstorm. He’s so proud.
• You try to hide? You get the slow, dramatic door creak and a sing-songy: “You can’t hide that kissable little face forever~!” Cue him crawling under the table or leaping over a couch just to get one kiss on your cheek.
“YOU LOOK TOO CUTE. I MUST SMOOCH.”
• He’s easily overwhelmed by your expressions. Smile at him? Blush? Make a soft noise? He’s already grabbing your face with both hands like, “Mmm, I need to kiss that emotion off of you right now.”
• Did something impressive? Got out of bed on a hard day? Said something sweet? That’s +10 kisses, minimum. Peach blossom cookie claps, cheers, then ambushes you like a congratulatory confetti cannon made of smooches.
• After a good kissing spree, you look in the mirror and find your face covered in pink. Peach blossom cookie beams from behind you and whispers, “Now everyone knows who you belong to.” (You try to grumble but you’re smiling too hard.)
🍑🌸
i hc him to be incredibly romantic with his partner 😻
Cuddle hcs for red velvet plz? I would love to feel his cake arm around me...and if he gave me back scratches with that same hand, I'll be in heaven!
I have served 🙏🏼 ENJOY
— Cuddle Hc's for Red Velvet Cookie!!
🗡️
• Red Velvet cookie doesn't do casual affection. If he lets you near him—lets you into his arms, his space—it means something huge. He doesn’t speak it out loud, but his silence is heavy with trust.
• When you approach, he’s tense. Rigid. Not out of rejection—he just doesn’t know what to do with comfort. But the moment your hand brushes his, or your arms wrap around him? He exhales deeply. His body sinks into yours like he’s been holding his breath forever.
• His cuddles are firm. Protective. Possessive, even. One arm around your waist, the large, clawed one ever-so gently holding your head against his chest. He rarely says it, but the way he holds you screams, “You are mine to protect. I will not lose you.”
• At night, during rare soft moments, Red velvet cookie will murmur things into your hair—regrets, memories, maybe even secrets from the past. His voice is quiet but tense. The tone of his voice although gives it away with each tremble.
• Red velvet cookie'll bring you tea he made way too strong, clumsily wrap you in a blanket, or sit by your side in perfect silence when you’re sad. It's rough around the edges—but so sincere it makes your heart ache.
• His hair resembles a heavy crimson cloak, you'll wrap it around you both, shielding you both like a protective shell. Inside it, the world disappears. He rarely smiles—but the smallest curl of his lips happens here, hidden, when you rest your head on his shoulder. (HIS HAIR LOOKS SO SOFT)
• At first, the cakehound’s a little territorial—but eventually, it warms up to you. Sometimes, Red Velvet cookie watches you two with quiet fondness. You, curled against his side; the hounds, sleeping at your feet. It’s the closest thing to peace he’s ever had.
• He sharpens your weapons. Walks on the side closest to danger. Watches you sleep like it’s the only beauty left in the world. If you ever say “I love you,” he goes very still… then pulls you close and says only, “I know.”
I would like to see something for choco werehound brute, specifically the dreaded pampering her
he needs more recognition ☹️
(I GENUINELY COULDN'T FIND ONE OF HIM 😭)
— Cuddle Hc's for Choco werehound brute!!
.
🐺
• You’d expect his claws and strength to be too much—but when it comes to you? He’s careful. He uses the pads of his fingers to tuck hair behind your ear, cup your cheek, or hold your hand with the softest growl of affection rumbling in his chest.
• Choco Brute (for short) doesn’t just cuddle—you get wrapped up in him. You’re in his lap, against his chest, arms around you, chin resting on your head. He radiates warmth, and if anyone even looks at you wrong? One low growl, and they back way off.
• Choco Brute brings you the strangest mix of thoughtful and weird little treasures—smooth stones, rare herbs, shiny coins, or something that "smelled nice." He drops them in your lap like a proud puppy waiting for praise.
• Choco Brute will nuzzle your hair, smooth out your clothes with huge, clumsy hands, and lowkey freak out if you’ve been crying or look tired. Expect soft huffs of concern and lots of forehead touches to check your temperature.
• You try to get up and do chores? Nope. He gently but firmly scoops you back into bed or the couch, fluffs a pillow behind you, and sits right there glaring at anyone who tries to interrupt. He might not speak, but the vibe is: “My soft one is RESTING.”
• Those claws? Surprisingly good at back rubs. He’ll grunt softly, focused, as he works out your knots with shockingly skilled hands. If you make happy noises? His ears twitch, and you might catch his tail wag just a little.
• Choco Brute yells alot, but when he’s holding you, he quietens down and rumbles deep in his chest—a soothing, instinctive sound that vibrates through your whole body. You relax without even realizing it. He knows it calms you, and he does it every time.
• In Choco Brute's eyes, you’re everything. He doesn’t understand why anyone would hurt you or why you’d doubt your worth. If you’re ever feeling down, expect him to sit beside you, eyes locked on yours, resting a hand on your chest like, “Here. You matter. Always.”
🐺
I lowk wanna write a small fanfic of him in his wedding dress 🙏🏼🙏🏼😓
Can I request dad Pure vanilla? Maybe his kid coming to him in the middle of the night seeking comfort while he's working/ sleeping?
TYSM!
AHHH CUTE I LOVE THIS IDEA!! 😭
— Night light,, Father!Pure vanilla cookie x Child!reader!!
🕯️
• When Pure vanilla cookie's working late, there's always a soft golden glow in his study—just enough for his little one to follow like a beacon when you wake up scared or lonely.
• The moment you peek in or call out, he immediately stops what he's doing. Spellbooks close, quill down. His entire focus shifts to you with a warm smile and open arms.
• If you're crying or scared, he’ll scoop you onto his lap and hum ancient lullabies in a soft, honey-smooth voice. His magic naturally radiates calming energy, so you'll feel safe almost instantly.
• Pure vanilla cookie wraps you both in his flowing golden cloak, which always smells faintly of vanilla and springtime. It’s oversized and warm, perfect for snuggling up against his chest.
• If you fall asleep in his arms, he won’t wake you. He gently carries you back to bed, whispering soft reassurances like, “You’re safe now, little one,” and tucks you in with a protective spell of light.
• Sometimes, you both end up asleep in the study chair—his head tilted back, yours against his chest, golden magic still softly glowing around them like a dream.
• If you need to talk about a nightmare or fear, Pure vanilla cookie will listen with the gentlest expression and respond with wisdom—but never dismisses your feelings. “Even the strongest light gets scared sometimes.”
May I please request some cuddle hcs for White Pearl cookie? I wanna hug that fishy!
Thank you very much, have a good day!
OFC!! HAVE A LOVELY DAY TOO!!
— Cuddle Hc's for Black pearl cookie!
🦪
• At first, Black pearl cookie pretends she doesn’t like cuddles. She’ll give you a cold “Hmph!” but then somehow ends up snuggled beside you like a cat who swears they’re not affectionate.
• If she really trusts you, her dark water tendrils gently wrap around you during cuddles—warm, surprisingly soft, and protective. It's like being hugged by the ocean itself.
• Black pearl cookie loves to take naps in the quiet of the Abyss. You’ll float beside her, with her bioluminescent glow lighting the shadows just enough to feel safe.
• She’s so used to being alone that when she finally lets you in, she melts in your arms—though she’ll never say it. Her silence during cuddles = complete bliss.
• After a cuddle session, she becomes hyper-aware of your surroundings. Anyone dares to disturb you? They're getting a full tsunami to the face.
• Sometimes, post-cuddles, Black pearl cookie leaves you tiny ocean treasures—shimmering shells, deep-sea pearls, or glow-in-the-dark seaweed flowers. She says it’s nothing, but it means everything.
Maybee..... Frilled jellyfish or candy apple? I dunno i dont have a lot of cookies to choose from :,) (im picky)
Frilled jellyfish cookie is soon underrated! I love her sm she needs more love 😮💨
— Cuddle Hc's for Frilled jellyfish cookie!
🪼🪸
• Being held by Frilled jellyfish cookie feels like floating underwater in a dream. Her body is cool, soft, and bioluminescent—she’ll wrap her tendrils and arms gently around you, and suddenly the world goes quiet. No stress, no pain—just peace.
• Her presence has an almost magical effect on your nervous system. When you’re anxious or overstimulated, she’ll just float over, press her forehead to yours, and within seconds your muscles loosen and your breath slows. It’s not hypnosis—it’s just her.
• Frilled Jellyfish Cookie doesn’t express love with many words. Instead, she brushes nimble fingers through your hair, hums softly while holding you, and pulls you gently into her lap like she’s inviting you into a dream you didn’t know you needed.
• She’ll bathe you in shimmering, moonlit water. Brush your hair with her delicate fingers. Even decorate you with glowing shells and pearls she finds in the depths—offering them to you with her soft smile like sacred treasures.
• When you both sleep, Frilled jellyfish cookie creates a suspended bubble of water-light and lullaby tides. You float together, weightless, in a sphere that glows and pulses like a heartbeat. You’ve never slept better in your life.
• When you shiver, she’ll coil her tendrils around you like a blanket and pull you close to her core, where her glow is warmest. “Let me keep you safe beneath the waves,” she murmurs, voice like a lullaby.
• Feeling lost? Burnt out? Spiraling into philosophical dread? She’ll gently stroke your face, press her forehead to yours, and whisper, “All things drift. It is not failure—it is nature. Drift with me, and rest.” You didn’t think you needed that. But you did.
Requests are indeed open and always will be! Unfortunately, I won't be able to write for Stormbringer cookie since I'm not familiar with her yet 😓 would you like to request another cookie?
Cuddling hcs for affogato please! I beg! That man is so smooth!
OFC YES HERE YOU GO 🙏🏼🙏🏼
(couldn't find a proper banner of JUST affogato)
— Cuddle Hc's for Affogato cookie!
🍫
• Affogato cookie doesn’t cuddle for no reason—at first. He’ll slip into your arms like a cat, purring praise and murmuring honeyed words, but behind that smile, he’s gauging how much you trust him. Manipulative? A little. But he does enjoy the warmth.
• Affogato cookie has a silken voice and an even softer touch. Fingertips grazing your arm, nails trailing lightly across your back, breath brushing against your ear—he turns cuddling into a decadent experience, like you're some treasured relic he’s carefully claiming.
• He loves to be the one you're holding. If someone else gets close to you, he’ll drape himself across your lap like a smug cat, smirking as if to say, “I was here first~.” But his arms tighten just a little too much, betraying a flash of real jealousy.
• Affogato cookie claims to be above it all—love, weakness, sentiment—but the first time you pull him into your chest without teasing or flattery, he goes quiet. Blinks. Blushes a little. And then hugs you back like you’re something sacred.
• Cuddling with Affogato cookie is both relaxing and just a little intoxicating. He’s warm, he smells like thick coffee and incense, and he hums low, hypnotic little tunes. You always feel just a bit drowsy after, like he’s drained your energy—in the best way?
• He’ll tease you about how “clingy” you are, maybe even act like he’s bored halfway through a cuddle session. But the moment you try to pull away? He grabs you back, pulling you into his lap like, “I didn’t say you could go.”
• Royal Margarine Cookie will definitely start cuddling time by striking a pose and declaring something ridiculous like, “Fear not, my dearest, for I shall keep you safe in my heroic embrace!” But five minutes later? He’s purring like a content cat and nuzzling into your shoulder.
Buttercream would definitely join in on the cuddle fest. Her massive butter dragon wings are surprisingly warm and fluffy. It wraps them around you and Royal Margarine cookie like a blanket and insists it’s the superior cuddling experience. Honestly? Royal Margarine cookie was right. It’s cozy and smells faintly like warm vanilla and magic.
• He pretends he gets all the attention in the world, but when it comes to real, genuine affection? He craves it deeply. He’ll practically melt when you stroke his hair or run your fingers along his jaw while you cuddle.
• He doesn’t just lie next to you—he drapes himself over you. Legs tangled, arms thrown across your waist, head resting right over your heart. Bonus points if you play with his fingers or compliment his hair while he’s lying there.
• After a rough day or a failed mission, Royal Margarine will still try to laugh it off. But if you pull him into your arms and just hold him? The cracks show. He won’t cry, but he’ll grip you tighter and whisper, “...thank you,” quieter than you’ve ever heard him.
• He dozes off during cuddles a lot. And if you’re lucky (or sneaky), you’ll catch him mumbling sleepy little praises like, “So radiant…” with a smile on his face. (Although he'd probably be talking about himself)
• If you cuddle with a plushie or body pillow when he’s not there, he’ll dramatically gasp like it’s a betrayal. “How dare you replace me with such an unworthy imposter!” …But then he’ll ask if he can take the plushie and spritz it with his cologne. Just in case.
👑
I LOVE HIM SO MUCH I SCREAMED WHEN I PULLED HIM 😍😍😍🙏🏼🙏🏼
Can I have cuddling hcs with dark choco plz? I've seen all the cuddling hcs and...he needs it! He is out in the snow after being redeemed...he needs the love!
CUTEE I love him with all my heart, he deserves love 😔😔
— Cuddle Hc's for Dark Choco cookie!
🍫
• Dark choco cookie would never admit it, but he sleeps better when someone is holding him. At first, he’ll awkwardly offer to be the big spoon, stiff as a board—but after a few minutes, he’ll slowly wiggle his way to a more comfortable (and secretly vulnerable) little spoon position.
• The first few times you cuddle, Dark choco cookie doesn’t take off his armor. Not because he thinks you’ll hurt him, but because he’s not used to being soft. Eventually, he starts leaving it by the door without thinking, and that’s when you know he’s letting you in.
• Dark choco cookie doesn’t say much during cuddles. No sweet nothings, no declarations—just a deep, quiet presence. His way of showing affection is pulling you closer, resting his forehead against yours, or wrapping his cloak around both of you like a shield.
• His hands are cold from wielding the Strawberry Jam Sword and wandering through desolate places. He’ll hesitate to touch your face or hold your hand at first, but the moment you take his hand and tuck it against your chest? He’s done for.
• Dark choco cookie has nightmares. Often. When he jolts awake, drenched in sweat and breathing hard, he doesn't want to talk—but if you’re there to wordlessly pull him into your arms, he'll melt into you. Your presence alone anchors him back to the present.
• You might catch him stroking your hair or tracing circles on your back when he thinks you’re asleep. He'll stop the second you stir, pretending he wasn’t doing anything, but the warmth in his eyes betrays him.
• When danger's near or he’s on high alert, he wraps around you like a fortress. His grip is strong, his stance unyielding, but the way his chin rests on your shoulder? That’s pure tenderness.
warning!! it's pretty "spicy" (get it? That was shit sorry)
Enjoyyy!!
🔥
• Burning Spice Cookie does not cuddle. He claims. Pulls you into his lap, wraps an arm tight around your waist, and rests his chin on your shoulder like you belong there. Because in his eyes? You do. “Don’t squirm now,” he murmurs. “You started this.”
• Literally—his dough radiates heat. Pressed up against him, you’re basically a marshmallow waiting to melt. He knows it, too. Loves how flushed you get. “Can’t handle a little heat?” he’ll tease, his breath warm against your ear.
• One hand on your thigh, the other tracing slow, deliberate patterns across your lower back. His fingers dance just under your clothes, never quite enough to be intimate—but just enough to make your heart stutter. He lives for that reaction.
• If you shift in his arms the wrong way, or let out a breathy sound you don’t mean to, he’ll let out a low, dangerous growl right into your neck. It vibrates through your whole body. “...Keep doing that,” he mutters, “and I’m not stopping at cuddling.”
• When Burning Spice cookie looks at you, it’s smoldering. Hungry. Focused. Like you’re the most tempting thing in the kingdom and he’s been starving for days. You can’t hold that gaze for long—he loves it when you look away first. “Got you,” he’ll whisper, cocky and pleased.
• Burning Spice cookie brushes his lips against your skin slowly—your neck, your jaw, even your shoulder. But never quite kisses. It’s maddening. “What’s wrong?” he says, breath hot and heavy. “Want something, sweetheart?”
• The longer the cuddling goes, the more the tension simmers. His hand tightens on your thigh. His voice lowers. His body presses closer. He doesn’t even have to move much. Just the way he breathes against your skin is enough to make you shiver.
• He leans in when you're barely keeping it together and murmurs things like, “I could keep you warm all night.” or “If we weren’t just cuddling… would you let me ruin you, sweet thing?”
• If anyone else tries to interrupt or steal your attention? The heat Burning Spice cookie gives off spikes. His hold tightens. His lips brush your ear. “You’re mine right now. Let them wait.”
• Once the tension dies down and you’re both too tired to tease, he holds you like you’re made of embers. Gentle, quiet, almost reverent. One hand strokes your hair, another caressing any revealing skin and his voice drops to a murmur: “You burn just like I do.”
🔥
he wakes you up by yelling in your ear to fight him idk
“The trick isn’t making them laugh. The trick is keeping them laughing until the blade sinks in.”
Time had a strange way of stretching around Shadow Milk Cookie. He wasn’t sure if it had been weeks, months, or years since he re-entered their lives. All he knew was this: Y/N hadn’t kicked him out, and Gingerbrave hadn’t asked who he really was.
And wasn’t that the most delicious kind of tension?
He stayed in the shadows, a silhouette just out of reach. A jester without a stage, lurking like a bad punchline.
He would tell Gingerbrave bedtime stories—twisted tales about kingdoms that burned and heroes who lied.
“Why do your stories always end badly?” Gingerbrave asked once.
Shadow Milk Cookie smiled, his bells tinkling from his subtle movements.
“Because happy endings put the audience to sleep.”
Y/N watched all of it with a silent sort of fury. She had forgiven him just enough to let him stay, but not enough to trust him.
Sometimes, late at night, she’d find him sitting in the forge, eyes wide and glassy, speaking to no one.
“You’re talking to your reflection again,” she muttered, drying her hands.
He didn’t look at her. “At least it’s honest.”
“You’re spiraling.”
“I never stopped.”
She still remembered the day she saw the village burn. His laughter echoing through smoke, his silhouette outlined in flames like some hell-born ringmaster.
And the way her son had screamed—not in fear, but in confusion.
Like he recognized the monster.
And maybe he did.
Gingerbrave POV:
It began subtly.
He started having dreams.
A jester’s laugh.
A hand, too cold.
A voice whispering: “You died once already. Do you want to try again?”
He awoke sweating, shivering, and staring at the ceiling—remembering a crib he’d never slept in, a fire he’d never seen.
One night, he found Shadow Milk outside, spinning knives between his fingers like toys.
“Hey,” Gingerbrave said, hesitating. “Can I ask you something weird?”
The jester didn’t turn around.
“Only if you want a weirder answer.”
“Do you… know me from before?”
Shadow Milk’s fingers stopped. The knives vanished into smoke.
“Do you believe in reincarnation?”
Gingerbrave frowned. “I dunno. I think… sometimes I feel like I’ve done things before. Like I’ve lost people I never met.”
“That’s just growing up.”
“You’re dodging.”
He turned. His façade crumbled bit by bit, lips painted in a permanent smile.
“If I told you the truth, you’d never sleep again.”
“Try me.”
He didn’t answer.
Just reached forward, brushed a crumb from Gingerbrave’s cheek.
“You remind me of someone. He was fearless. Loud. Thought he could save the world.”
“What happened to him?”
Shadow Milk paused.
“He burned.”
🃏
Y/N heard the scream before the forge lanterns had time to flicker.
She ran out, axe in hand.
There stood Gingerbrave—shaking, jam on his arm. Shadow Milk beside him, breath ragged, eyes wild.
“What did you do?” she demanded.
“I didn’t—! He came too close, I—I didn’t mean to—!”
Gingerbrave backed away. “He changed. For a second. His face—he wasn’t him. He was—something else.”
Shadow Milk doubled over, laughter rising from his chest like bile.
“A round of applause, folks. The mask slips once, and suddenly the audience wants a refund.”
She struck him.
Not lightly.
Not symbolically.
With her full weight.
He crumpled.
Blood smeared the floor.
Gingerbrave screamed.
That night, she locked the forge doors. Kept Gingerbrave in her arms like a shield.
“I let him back in,” she whispered. “I should’ve known he never really left.”
But part of her wanted to run back out.
Part of her still loved what was left of Her.
And she hated herself for it.
🃏
Shadow Milk Cookie sat under the moon, fingers twitching with rhythm no music matched.
“Once upon a time,” he whispered to the wind, “there was a jester who killed his own ending. He rewrote the story. He tried to be good. But good was a lie. So he danced. Alone. Forever.”
Then, a voice behind him.
“You never finished that one.”
Y/N stood there, calmly as if nothing ever happened. As if he wasn't capable of doing anything to her to which she knew he wouldn't. Her axe nowhere in sight.
He looked at her—raw, paint smeared by blood, bells quiet.
