#cocoa collabs

[unknownlemoneater]

I DID THE 3 ARTIST + 1 BASE THINGY !!

Here’s my part in the collab!

[sandboxworld]

General Mills X Marvel Team Up for Fantastic Four Cereal

General Mills is bringing Mister Fantastic, Invisible Woman, Human Torch and The Thing to the cereal aisle with a special series of cereal boxes inspired by Marvel Studios’ “The Fantastic Four: First Steps,” in theaters July 25. A limited run of replica Lucky Charms cereal boxes — resembling those seen in the film — will also be released as part of the collaboration in July. “This collaboration…

[musicrevu]

Be sure to check out the new collab!

[hyukascampfire]

𝓖INGER & 𝓢NAP ` ꕀ. k.th

you were the last person taehyun expected to appear on his doorstep. sweet and fluffy and oh-so-proper; he never thought he’d see you again. but... there you stand. and, much to his own chagrin, he fears that nobody else could get him more bothered. ׄ ⋆ ִ

་༘ ՚՚ ꒰ 🪵 ꒱ ･ 7.9k

ρairings gingerbread!taehyun x frosty puff!reader

𝒢 ‧̥ smut, fantasy, strawberry shortcake au

⍵arnings brat taming, brat tamer!taehyun & brat!reader, his cum is frosting, creampie, ofc no sex ed in strawberryland, thigh riding, oral m!receiving, cumming into mouth, cum eating, corruption of innocence & innocent!reader, banter, chubby!reader and buff!taehyun, manhandling, he throws her around a bit and she's so into it, they don't like each other but also def do, he likes to teach her manners, reader is also spoiled & rich and taehyun is not, hair pulling, he gets mean, no protectiom, let me know if i missed some!

✎୭ ashlynn's note this collab has been seriously so fun. writing fics is fun, but there's something about talking your friends and scheming all the yummy ways you can incorporate certain things into your fic. @thetxtdevil mae baby, thank you so much for being the best and even coming up with this idea. your mind amazes me... like actually. everybody did so unbelievably good, and i'm blessed to have been a part of it. now... let's get foody and smutty lol. some of this was written in a benadryl haze, but that's the fun part. i'm sorry mine came out a lil later than everybody else's, but hopefully it's still fun!

... back to the masterlist ⌇ back to strawberryland

Raising your fist to the door, your knuckles rap against it with a few thick knocks. The door is frosted around the edges in little swirling white puffs of icing, framing the gingerbread door. It’s the same all around his house: gumdrops and candy canes and the like, all twinkling with sugar crystals.

It’s all so sweet—unbelievably so. The man that calls it home is the very antithesis of sweet. He does not take after the gumdrop, nor the sweetness of the icing, and most definitely not the brown sugar and molasses of the gingerbread. Taehyun is the quick snapping of a leg, or the sharpness on your tongue when you get to the cinnamon and nutmeg. 

You loathe it. Even being stood here, knocking at his door, you hate. He is everything uncouth and abrasive—he is everything you should not entertain. 

Here you are, entertaining it. The door swings open. Your fingers and toes have begun to slow with the cold, like frosty-whip in the fridge. Through the forest, stepping over sugar bushes and cocoa streams, you had fought the bite. Why did he have to live all the way out here? Secluded, as though the rest of Strawberryland were beneath his meddling. You know why: it’s that he believes it. He is exactly as your parents told you he’d be, all those years ago. Of course, they were right. They always are.

When he catches sight of you at his door, his distant eyes morph, and his lip tugs into a scowl. The rise of his brows ruffles your feathers with an infuriating ease. “Is there something you want?” he asks. His tone is infuriating, too. It’s the kind of question that means much more beyond the words said. You catch exactly what he means—how he intends to get under your skin.

Hidden behind the door, he has one hand on the handle. It's an unspoken thing, too. He wants you to remember that he could close it. You can’t let him, or else you’ll have drug your pretty new furry winter boots through the powdered snow for him to slam a door in your face. “Yeah, actually. There is.” You run preening fingers through the ends of your hair. “We’re partners for the bake-off.”

“I don’t do the bake-off,” he says. His eyes would be chocolate and smooth if it weren’t for the way he wields them sharp. “Sorry. You’re gonna have to find somebody more your speed for that.”

Barking an incredulous, perhaps even snobby, laugh, you look around. Snow comes down on the ground, sweet and creamy. It’d been enough of a battle to come here. If you were going to give up so easily, you would’ve turned your little bottom around perhaps two hours ago. Does he think you hadn’t considered that? It was a long walk; you had plenty of time to mull over the many things he might do. Sometimes, you imagined him diplomatic and affable. You stomped those wispy thoughts out. Perhaps it’s been years since you’ve spoken with him, and perhaps what happened between the two of you is dusted over, but you know better. Here he stands in front of you: bitter as ever. 

“You’re just gonna leave me without a partner?” you say. Your jaw trembles, seized finally by the cold. “Everybody is already paired up. Literally everybody.”

Shrugging, he says, “I don’t see how that’s my problem. I didn’t sign up for it.”

Your brows knit. That means somebody else had signed him up. You have a sneaking suspicion who might’ve—Blueberry Kai always tells you that he just feels excluded. It’s hard not to laugh when he does. Taehyun? Excluded?  He is exactly where he wants to be. Where most are sweet in Strawberryland, the snappy gingerbread finds it easier to justify his bitterness when he lives off in his little gingerbread home, out and away in his own neck of the forest only to be found by a winding gumdrop road, where he can pretend he’s above it all.

It’s entirely ironic. Him, better than you? Gingerbread, and all his ruggedness? His unpolished edges? Once, you’d believed that the two of you weren’t so different. That you could be friends, even. Seeing what he’s grown to be, you think you understand why your parents stepped in. Back then, though, as just that soft little girl who followed the charismatic boy around with crystal stars in your eyes, it had been the worst thing to ever happen to you. He had been so gravity-defying, moving through the soft, marshmallow edges and the sugar-whipped reality of Strawberryland as something different.

No. Not gravity-defying. Rather, in the powdery and sweet sweet Strawberryland, you think that he is the only thing with gravity.

“That’s not fair.”

“Not fair?” he echoes, letting a little patronizing laugh out along with it. “That’s sweet.”

It’s hard not to shift or cross your arms over your chest, abraded by the dripping sneer.

“What? It’s not. It’s not fair that, just because you don’t want to at least give it a try, I can’t participate,” you say. Really, you should just crawl back home and beg to join somebody’s duo, but you can’t lose like that. You can’t lose to him. If you leave it like this, then he’ll have gotten the better of you. 

“Can’t get everything we want, huh?” he says, straightening up and taking the door in his hand once more. “Just because everybody else has bent backward to give you what you want doesn’t mean that I will.”

“Wait,” you say, sighing in a white swirl. “Don’t close the door. Don’t you know your manners? It’s rude. You’re just going to let me freeze out here? I walked all the way out here, and even got snow all over my new boots, just for this, just for you to slam a door in my face? I mean, a gentleman would at least invite me in to warm me up.”

Lips twitching into a laugh and his eyes suddenly alight, he says, “A gentleman, huh?” He pulls the door open a little further. The warmth from his home, warm and spiced and oh-so-inviting like oven-warmed gingerbread, brushes over your twinkling skin. “Sure. Show me your manners, then. I want you to ask me nicely.”

Your jaw tightens. Sending him a once over, sharpening your eyes, you decide to just do it. His tone is nasty, but you don’t want to be disqualified for not having a partner. Even if he’s the worst you could’ve been paired with in all of Strawberryland. Or maybe the best, because it’s a gingerbread house competition this year. “Will you just do it?”

“I said ask nicely. Say please.” 

He wears a mean smile—he’s having fun watching you squirm. So, you make a conscious effort to straighten up. “Will you please be my partner for the competition?” you say, making your voice sugary and batting your eyelashes in an overdone way. He thinks he’s funny.

Stepping out of the doorway, he motions you inside. It might look gentlemanly if it weren't for the sting in his eyes. You swallow down petty words and push through, your arms full with supplies. Arms aching, you finally let them clatter down over the countertop. The inside of his home is fresh-baked and spiced, aromatic like a true gingerbread cookie straight from the oven. You’re sure the glowing fire helps carry the smell in warm air. It wraps your cold bones up and smooths over some of the frayed edges. You’d been out there for so long… Nobody else had to walk that far for their partner.

Better just to get this done as quickly as you can. You just have to put up with him today, and you’ll be done, and then you can have fun with the competition. He won’t even show up for it; you’re sure. 

“I’ll do it all if it’s that big of a deal,” you tell him, laying out the walls and warming the icing between your palms. “You can put the peppermint on, I guess. So then we can say we both worked on it.”

Hair the fluffy brown of true gingerbread and dusted with snowflakes like powdered sugar. Taehyun shakes his head, and it moves with him. “No,” he says, the corners of his lips still turned up as though he knows something you don’t. He rolls the sleeves of his gaudy, knitted Christmas sweater up to his elbows. The corded muscle there, flickering with movement, catches you off guard. Gingerbread, built like that? Tearing your eyes off him with the effort of metal tearing itself from a magnet, you watch him approach the kitchen counters. “I’ll help. We’re partners, right?”

No matter what he says, there’s a twist of something sparkling in those sharp eyes that has you watching him closer—has you trying to gauge exactly what he’s playing at. “Uh… Yeah. Sure. If you want to, I guess.” You gesture at the walls. “Two for us, and ten for display. Can you start the walls?”

“Ten?” he says. “We’re making twelve gingerbread houses?”

With your lips pulled taut, you say, “Yeah… Twelve. Is that too much? I didn’t think any amount of gingerbread houses would be too much for you. That’s a little ironic.” Everything is warm in his home—even when you look down at your own hands to tug off your white woolen gloves, your skin that usually sparkles like frost rests just beneath the surface is tinged with the warmth.

“I can handle it just fine,” he says, taking the wall and base sections of one. “Just wouldn’t want you to ruin your pretty outfit. Twelve is a lot of icing.” He spits the word pretty out like it tastes bad. On his tongue, you’re sure it does. He never cared for pretty things the way you do. Your mommy always said that he was just jealous, but when the both of you were little, before your parents’ meddling, you learned that it was just a different lifestyle. One that you don’t understand, perhaps. Who doesn’t enjoy dressing themselves in lush furs and sugar crystals over their necks? 

“I’ll be fine,” you say, snipping the tip of the piping bag open. “I wore these knowing they’d get dirty. They’re my baking clothes. My boots already got all messed up…” 

“Oh,” he says. “You put on cashmere knowing you’ll get it dirty. Mommy and daddy paid a pretty penny for that, huh? And it’s your throwaway outfit?”

“Look. If you like it so much, I’ll let you have it when we’re done, yeah? Maybe you’ll make a pretty penny off selling it.” You ice a warm white line down the length of a wall. “Can you hurry? I’m already icing. I don’t want to be here all day.”

There’s  a few long, thrumming moments of quiet, where only the sound of your piping back crackling fills his home. Finishing a wall, you tear yourself away from your work to spare a glance his way.

Taehyun’s jaw is tight, a muscle flickering where he grits his jaw in the low light that washes over him. There’s a fire blazing in his eyes, and though he doesn’t turn them on you, the smoke rolling from them is enough to make your skin warm. You’d successfully gotten under his skin. Why stop here, when seeing that look on his face is so fun? He looks as sour as an apple; as spiced as cinnamon. “Wall?” you say, sharp and haughty as you offer your hand out to him in an impatient demand.

Snapping his head up, he hands you a wall with the heat of a thousand ovens in his face. You feel the scald he intends for you with it, and you revel in it.

You bark commands at him, watching his shoulders grow tense and his lips twitch with each. Crush the candy canes, you tell him. Melt the icing. Sprinkle these over that. Soon enough, you’re sitting back and watching him work more than anything.

He doesn’t say a word. You see them brimming in his eyes, but he doesn’t let them burst out all venomous like you know he wants to. It’s quite the show. 

“Would you at least help me hold this up?” he says, holding the walls of a house together with one hand. His hands are a mess of runny sugar and powdered sugar for snow, and yours are perfectly clean. You can at least help a little bit if you want to claim any part in the competition. 

You reach for the piping bag, fat with the sweet sweet icing, and straighten a wall up. You trace the seams with it, thick and like glue. With a bit too much pressure, the side of the bag bursts. White rivulets of slow icing run down your fingers and over the table. You curse, dropping it to the counter. That’s all of your icing, flopped down and deflating over the surface all sad-like. It’d been so much, that you thought it would last you each house and then some. Of course, you hadn’t brought extra.

Bringing your sticky fingers up to your mouth, you suckle the mess off. It’s so very sweet—warm and weeping, nutty and spiced with something like nutmeg. It’s Taehyun: the smell of it, the way it spreads over your tongue… You stick your tongue out to catch it where some drips down your forearm. “Mmm,” you say, sticky-armed. “Tastes good.” That’ll be good on the gingerbread houses; maybe the two of you do have a chance at winning. 

When you look up to Taehyun, he stands frozen in place, his hands still holding up a half-constructed gingerbread house. His eyes are different. It’s a look you don’t recognize—a look you’ve never seen before. Rather than deep and warm, his eyes are blackish and heavy. A swallow goes down his throat; a tense, barely contained thing.

 You frown, your lips still a sugary mess. “I didn’t mean to make a mess. Sorry. I’ll clean it up…”

Clearing his throat, Taehyun says, “Yeah…”

He watches you clean the counters, where the icing had pooled, and now the bag is empty, with the same intensity. You can feel it on your skin in a foreign, itching way. You swipe and scoop and work at the spill, and still, he watches. He does not speak. 

You survey the houses you’ve managed to finish. They’re pretty, and absolutely competition ready: looping swirls of icing like shingles on the roofs, peppermint chunks all red and white catching light where you’d sprinkled them into the frosting, gumdrops lining the paths true to Taehyun’s own home, and powdered sugar sifted over the entirety of it like snowfall. It’s all great, but there are only four.  “What are we supposed to do now?” you say, lips pouty. “That’s all the icing I brought. We literally can’t make any more.” You wipe at a smear on your cheek. How’d that get there? “I think I’m gonna have to come back tomorrow… Can you hold on to the houses for me?”

“Yeah—yeah, sure. Tomorrow,” he says, blinking something away. He straightens. “It’s a long walk. I think you should get going.”

You want to say something snarky or ask him why he wants you out of the house so fast, but it’s true. Night’s creeping over Strawberryland, and you have no icing, and tomorrow’s the last day before the bake-off. If the two of you don’t work harder tomorrow than you did today, then you won’t even make qualifications. You’ll lose before even starting.

You never lose. Not like this, and certainly not to the man standing before you. 

ꕀ

“C’mon. You can do better than that, can’t you?” Taehyun says, drooping icing from rooftops like icicles as you sprinkle crushed candies over the top. 

You grit your teeth. If he’d been snappy yesterday, he’s made it his mission to be your worst nightmare today. You think it’s his sort of revenge for ordering him around how you did. “What would you like, then?” you say. Maybe it’s feeding right into what he wants, but your life has lent you a short fuse. “You don’t even care about winning. Why does it matter? Let me do it how I want.”

He’s in another sweater. The sleeves are bunched up to the elbow just like yesterday, but you think he’s making a point with it this time. The shifting of his muscles is a bit too intense for piping icing. You’d made it through three more houses, wrangling your inner demons with each passing snide remark or nasty smile the whole time. It doesn’t help that he keeps his home terribly toasty, and you run cold down to the core. You melt and melt until all that is left of your temper is a puddle on the floor beneath you. Gone. 

“We’re partners, remember?” he says. He doesn’t even look at you as he says it. “I don’t do things half-assed, Frosty.” 

You’re sent reeling with the old nickname. It’d been sweet then, back when it was just the two of you against the world, but now it’s gone sour like milk. It even comes from his mouth soured. It’s something that you thought you’d left a million lifetimes ago, never to hear again. With Taehyun, though, it’s hard to pretend that you are no longer that. 

He will not let you forget that, at one point, the two of you were friends. An unlikely pair, especially looking at you now. You thought it was all nothing to you, but seeing him has kicked up dust. 

“You don’t?” you say, shooting him a quick glare from the side of your eye. “That’s funny.”

Strong brows shooting up, Taehyun quits mid-piping to look at you. “Funny? What’s funny about it to you?”

You can’t settle the obnoxious smile that curls at the edges of your mouth, mean and taunting and falsely sweet. “Oh, nothing.” You shake a sifter full of powder against your palm. It falls like true snow down over the house. 

“No, tell me,” he says, his eyes trained and heavy on your dismissive shrug. “Tell me what you think of me. I wanna hear it.”

Oh, this will be good.

“It’s just that,” you say, “you’re not really known for doing things the best way, you know? Living all the way out here, an ass when anybody tries to talk to you… Well, really, it’s just that nobody likes you. But, don’t worry! I’m sure there’s at least somebody that does.”

His face falls, the twinkle of delight at taunting you that he’d been holding in his eyes gone away. All that’s left is the peaking of something deeper and roiling from out of the cracks. You get the funny feeling that maybe you’ve taken it a step too far.

But, you never lose.

“Is that what it is?” he says. “I work for my shit. You? Everything you’ve ever had has been handed to you.” He measures his words delicately. Like a measuring cup full over the top, he cuts the excess words and coarseness off. He doesn’t say all that he thinks, but you see all he leaves unsaid toiling furiously behind his eyes. 

His eyes. They’re clear and, sharp as they are, they pin you. It’s a reflection of that look he gave you yesterday: deep and swirling and wild. It’s more than that, this time, though. It’s laced with anger and bursting at the seams of him. You’re not sure he’ll be able to hold back whatever it is that storms just beneath his skin, this time.

“It is,” you say, punctuation your words concisely. “It’s exactly why my parents said I shouldn’t hang out with you. They said that I’m above… all this.”

Oh, you’ve absolutely taken it too far now. You don’t really mean it. Sure, that’s what they told you, but you don’t really believe it. For some time, you did, but not now. It’s too late for sorries, though. Taehyun’s jaw goes tense.

For a long, awful moment, you just stand there and burn in his silence. It’s worse than any words he might spit. It’s hot—hot, hot, hot, and you turn liquid in it.

In a blink, nothing more, you collide against his countertop. Something clatters and thuds behind you. The gingerbread houses? That doesn’t matter right now—all that your dizzy mind can manage is his body crushing you and his fingers biting into the plush of your cheeks.

Where he had fractured, like true gingerbread, he snaps. You can see it in his eyes; even you know when you’ve pushed too far. Perhaps you ought to have seen this coming.

His knuckles curl white around the edge of the counter beside you, and his fingers dig deeper into your face. He’s oh-so-hot up against you. “I’m sick of your fucking mouth,” he snarls. His breath is hot as it fans over your face, too. “Someone needs to put you in your place. Where are your goddamn manners?”

Your heart thrums in your chest, and your pulse goes wild in your neck. You can’t form the words to answer him.

“Quiet now, huh?” he says. The husk in it makes the place between your thighs feel weird. You don’t know what’s wrong with you.

He shut you up real quick. You’ll give him that.

That funny feeling does flips, roaring to life when his fingers hook under the waistband of your bottoms. “That’s your problem.” His eyes send a chill up and down your spine. “You’ve never been told no. You’ve always gotten what you wanted.” Peeling down all the layers, he tugs your knitted stockings and your little fur skirt, and your sweet frosty panties, too. They bunch at your feet. Between your thighs, right where those foreign, throbbing waves reign, cool air laps at a wetness there. The hair all over your body rises. You’ve never felt anything like it. “Not with me. I'll set you straight. I don’t put up with spoiled brats.”

“I’m not a brat,” you say. “You’re just an ass.” They’re the first words that come to you. Damn your temper.

With the same hand he’d been holding your face in place with, he curls his fingers right into your scalp and yanks hard, baring your neck to him. You lose a strained squeak, tears pricking the corners of your eyes at the sting. If your heart had been racing before, it runs wild, now. You strain your eyes to look at him and his curled lips. Painted with a sneer, he says, “Watch your mouth.”

A swallow goes down your throat hard. It’s all unfamiliar: the aching between your thighs, the burning in your blood, and the dazing of your thoughts. “Taehyun, I… I feel weird. It feels weird.”

Something knowing passes over him. “Yeah?” he says. “Show me where. I can help.”

Show him? You hesitate, searching his eyes for an ounce of joke or aversion. You find none, and that pounding is syrupy-sweet, and he says he can help. That’s all you want; all you need. Taking a trembling hand, you bring it down your body, running the palm down the planes of your belly and resting it just over the spot where the lower bit gives way to the apex of your thighs. Going any further—the thought tightens your throat and pinkens your cheeks the color of strawberry frosting. “There. It feels weird there.”

Taehyun smiles a snappy, spiced smile. He likes that. “Want me to make it feel better?”

Your thoughts feel replaced by something powdery and weightless. You give him a dumb nod.

“Say please.”

Something bratty crawls up your throat, but you want help, and he’s the one who will give it to you. He’d meant that: teaching you a lesson. Melted around the edges already, you say, “Please, help make it feel better.” Your voice wavers.

“There we go. That’s how good girls talk. That’s how you ask to get what you want.” He nudges your thighs apart with a knee and slots it between them, pressed right up against that coolness. Right up against that need. “Grind down on it.”

Neck aching at the angle, you say, “Grind?”

He brushes his clothed thigh right up against you. The friction is delicious—sweet and melty and just what you need. It shoots yellow sparks throughout you.

It feels so good. Your mouth waters in anticipation.

“Grind,” he says. It’s harder, this time. Not a sweet suggestion.

You bring yourself back down on it, gasping at the contact, and you do. You grind, tummy tightening at every brush of the fabric hard and delicious. Your chest constricts, one hand flying up to dig your fingers into his shoulder and the other fighting the hand he has still in your hair. It aches and hurts, and so does the friction as you grow more gaspy and frantic. 

It feels so, so good. You want more—you want him to touch you there and everywhere else. He smells just right all over you, nutty and musky like a gingerbread twist. “Taeh—hyun,” you mewl. It burns, but something slick eases the burn a little bit. Just enough for you to enjoy that burn.

“That’s it,” he coos. It’s not a sweet coo; it’s the type of sound one might make when you play right into their mean game. It’s mean. “Make yourself a mess on my thigh. I don’t even have to touch you. What would mommy and daddy think of you now, huh? What would they think if they saw their precious princess fucking herself on my thigh?”

No. That would be the end of you. You whine, thighs twitching. Something twists in your center, scary and foreboding, and still you chase it. None of your thoughts are solid enough to stop. Each time he flexes a muscled thigh or presses it harder into you, you shudder and curl your fingers into his shirt harder. 

“Don’t like that, huh?” he laughs. “Then you haven’t learned your lesson. You’re no better than me; I mean, look at you.”

You want to cry when he pins your hips back to the counter, stilling your wild bucking. Squeezing your eyes shut, you claw and reach for that wave, even as it recedes from you. “Why?” you say, voice thin. It’d been so yummy—the sweetness still rests on your tongue. Your heart thumps hard, longing for it.

“I said, look at yourself,” he growls, taking his hold on your hair to crank your head down.

Right where you’d been on his thigh, there’s a sticky, marshmallowy mess. Your mess. 

Taehyun releasing his grip on your hair is almost a relief, but he doesn’t even give you time to relish it. The walls of his house blur around you. All that you register in between the motions is his shoulder in your belly and your limbs dangling from you. You dig your hands into his back to balance yourself, but he’s got you.

He has you slung over his shoulder. He’s carrying you like you weigh nothing at all. That place between your thighs flutters anew. In all your life, you never worried too much about the plushness of your belly or your thighs. It is who you are; all mallow and soft around the edges and starkly sweet. But you did get nervous when somebody tried picking you up. Usually, you protest and giggle it off. Watching somebody strain to pick you up when they lift other girls like sacks of flour is just something that makes you feel a little strange.

But, Taehyun does not strain. He doesn’t huff; he carries you right down the hallway and into his room, and he even manhandles you down onto the bed with a bounce without so much as a sound. He is a solid pillar beneath you, and then he is a solid, muscled chest above you. With strong fingers, he pins your hands to the mattress above you. With the other, he leads your shirt up.

He’s so warm against your cold skin. His breath like waves from the oven over your mouth, he says, “You think you’re so much better than me because you have all this?” Curling his fingers around a necklace circling your throat, he tears it off with a clattering of a few snow-drop beads.

 You gasp, glaring right into his eyes. “What the hell?” you hiss, arching your chest to wiggle beneath him. Your necklace. Who does he think he is, breaking your stuff? That was one of your favorite necklaces, and now it lies all over his floor. Still, your center pounds and longs for the return of his touch. Everything about him just calls for more from you. You don’t know how you went so long without him, or how you made yourself forget just how drawn you are to his magnetism. Maybe he is just what your parents turn their nose up at, and you too, but that does not make him any less a powerful personality. 

He knows exactly who he is and what he wants, as solid as the gingerbread cookie. And you, plush and impressionable as whipped marshmallows, take to him just right. It’s something you once knew, but the sneered words of adults obscured that memory.

“Don’t whine,” he says. “I want to see your pretty neck without all that shit. That’s your problem: you’re spoiled.” He reaches down to mess with his pants.

His length springs free. Cheeks flushing, you take it in. You can’t look away, even as embarrassment crawls spindly legs over your skin at the interest you take in the sight. You’ve never seen anything like it—long and hot and weeping something thick and white from the slit at the pinkish tip. A pearl of it dribbles down, landing on your belly in a string where he holds it.

Taehyun collects that wetness and then urges more from the tip with a few drags down the length of it. Wrapping his fingers around it, he begins to slowly work his fist up and down it. It’s nothing short of impossible to tear your sights off it—it’s another thing that inexplicably fans the flames of something roaring in your center. “Do you want to touch it?” he says, watching your tongue dart out to wet your lips. 

The sight of him growing restless over his pumping fist is enough to get you nodding. 

“Fuck,” he says, sharp and under his breath. He lets his hand off it. “Go ahead. Touch it. I won’t tell anybody you did.”

When he frees your pinned wrists, you reach out a slow hand. You curl your fingers around it the way he had. Your fingers don’t even touch around jt. The weight and warmth of him in your palm makes your blood tingle. Looking up, you search for guidance in those intelligent, swirling eyes. His bangs hang over his eyes as he watches.

Placing his hand over yours, he drags it up and down his rigid length the way he had been doing a few beats ago. “Like that,” he says. “Just like that.”

You pump your closed fist up and down him, encouraged to squeeze harder and flick your wrist faster with each tight breath he lets slip. The skin of your palm gets stickier and stickier, the slick sounds sending your ears and core burning just the same. You like that it makes him feel good—that he’s making those noises just for you. 

He twitches under your fingers. “Feels just like I thought your pretty hands would…” he says, stomach tight. “See—what happens when you give up that bratty fucking act? Shit… harder—give it to me harder, Frosty…” Shivering at the name, you oblige him. You reach your thumb up and collect more of that beaded liquid from the slit, and you work your arm harder. Faster. Your forearm begins to burn, but you don’t let it slow you. All you want is more of this; more of him. Finally, he lets sounds out from his chest freely. He grunts and hisses through his teeth, letting his head fall back. “Holy shit. I’m gonna—gonna ice your face, okay?” he says. “You said you liked the taste, huh? Wanna taste it again? Give me your tongue…”

Whatever that means, you push yourself up and situate your face in front of his length, your tongue out. Taehyun’s sounds tighten, and his hips begin to stutter and chase your hand. He picks his head back up to look down at you half-lidded—to watch. With only a few last runs of your palm down his length, skin so slick that your hand just slips and slides up him, he growls through gritted teeth. The weight of him in your working hand twitches once more, and from that weeping tip he shoots dancing ribbons of white. It lands on your tongue hot and sweet, melting out all spiced and snappy.

Snappy like gingerbread. Like gingerbread icing. Swallowing it down, you meet his gaze. He pants, chest rising and falling, but there’s something clear and knowing in his heavy eyes when you do. You think you know now, why he’d been so dazed as you made a show of licking that same sticky icing off your hands and said how good it tasted. 

When you release him from your palm, it glistens with his sweet essence. He softens in front of your eyes just the littlest bit.

Eyes just as hungry and still catching his breath, Taehyun says, “Open your mouth. I wanna see your tongue.”

Belly doing wicked twists, you do. You stick your tongue out for him, still laden with the headiness of his taste. He does taste good. 

“Swallowed it all down?” he says, eating the sight of you with your mouth dropped open up. “You really are so nasty. They all think you’re so sweet—you think you’ve got them all wrapped around your finger.” He pushes you back down to the bed with a palm. “Well, not me. I know that you’re just as filthy as you are spoiled. Somebody had to deal with you.”

Like always, snarky words swirl in your mouth. All it would take is letting them fall off your tongue. But you don’t—not with the feeling between your thighs, and not with the way your blood, frost turned to snowmelt, begs for him to fix it. Not when you know that all it will get you is more of Taehyun’s wrath. 

It’s not like what he says is true, or anything. That’s what you tell yourself anyway.

“Taehyun, please. I need it…” He takes a marshmallow thigh of yours, pressing it up so that it melds with your belly. Cool air reminds you once more of that strange wetness between them.

Dark, blown eyes catching the sight of it, his lips quirk into a scoff. “Need what?” he says, reaching a hand down. At the contact of his fingers, just as they had against his thigh, your hips jolt and an explosion like the breaking of sugar glass shoots down the muscles of your thighs. He scoops that stickiness up from its source, bringing the soft cream up to his mouth. Tongue darting out, he has a taste of you just as you had tasted him. “Shit—you taste good too, frosty. You’re so sweet, how’d you turn out like this? That’s okay. I’ll deal with you, and then you’ll be just as sweet as you taste.” That fat tip of him presses flush to the source of all your want. “I’ll straighten you out.”

You don’t know what that means, and you are absolutely sure that you don’t deserve it, but any sass is staunched with the utter sweetness of the stretch in your center. Taehyun presses his hips up into you, slowly and internalizing the dropping open of your mouth, the pinching of your brows into a worrying line, and the press of your palms to his broad chest. He takes it and metabolizes it down like cream cake or the plumpest fruits, and he gives you more. More, all the way up until there is no length of him left to give, and nowhere else for him to go.

You feel so, so full. No amount of twinkling jewels or new skirts hold a candle to this. You don’t know what it is, and you don’t know why Taehyun knows, but whatever. Who cares? Breathing out a shudder, you squirm beneath him to search for that dazzling feeling he’d made you feel earlier.

“Stay still,” he barks, steadying himself beside your head with a sturdy, powerful arm. When had he lost his sweater? You don’t know. You might drool over the definition and warm skin there if he didn’t pull the length of him out until just the tip of him threatens to pop out, and then drive right back in before you could. A gaspy breath falls from your mouth, devolving into mewls and whimpers when he does the same over and over and over again, quick with snapping hips and the smacking of his skin against the soft skin of your bottom. Your thigh quivers in his hold, his fingers digging into the fluff of your thigh as he holds you into it. 

Each and every time he slides up against something inside you that makes you feel different. Different from what you felt when you were on his thigh, and different from anything else you’ve felt in the entirety of your life. It’s deeper, right at the very bottom of your belly, sending your veins lazy and your hips twitchy. You want to chase it as much as you want to hide from its power, so all you do is stay in a hazy limbo of sharp gasps and long, drawn out mewls for more.

“No,” he says, his face right in yours. The smell of him, manly and so very sweet like oven-warmed gingerbread, settles over your bones and wiggles its way through your thoughts. It does something to your melted mind, planting a need to cling to him right in the center. Your hands perch all over him: the hair at the back of his head, his working waist, his biceps that flex and strain with his effort, and finally around him so that you can push your cheek to his chest and feel his heart racing there. “You’ll take exactly what I give, and thank me for it. You don’t get to ask for more; not with your mouth.”

“Why?” you say, whining. “I want it—so bad. Please? I’ll be so… so good…” Your voice bounces with each collision of your bodies, and your toes flex and curl at the twisting in your core. Nonetheless, you want more. Whatever this is—this syrupy, pure goodness—Taehyun has shown you something that you will never be whole without again. He has bloomed a flower right in the chest of you, something hungry that will want and want this, and you fear that he will be the only one able to satiate it. 

The thought of the smile he’ll wear, should you come crawling back to his doorstep just for this… 

Taehyun stops, pushing off you with a curled lip. “What will it take to get you to fucking listen?” he says. He pulls himself from you, leaving you to whine and long for that feeling once more. You want to complain and pull him back over you, but with the fire churning in his dark gaze and the sight of his length, covered in that same white, whipped stuff you’d left all over his thigh. 

You’d made a sticky, frosty, frothed mess all over him once again. Really, what would people think of you now? Your mom? Your dad? 

Manhandling you again, he flips you onto your hands and knees and shoves your face into the bed. Any yelp or gasp that tears from your chest is muffled into the sheets. Taking the swell of your hips, his fingers like bites against the powdery, soft skin there, his voice comes from behind you. “Won’t you just listen to me? If you’re gonna be mine, you’re gonna have to start learning how to hear no.” Curling your hair up and pulling it like a handle, he snaps your head back into another stinging, awful tug. It turns the arch of your back into something that you can imagine is a sight to be seen. If the burning where you feel his eyes raking down the curve of it has something to speak of it, that is. You squeeze your eyes shut as if that’ll help you any. “You don’t get everything you want. That’s not how this works.”

You don’t say anything. You have nothing good or sweet left to say.

“Say thank you, and I’ll give it to you good, okay?” he says, running a flattened hand down your spine. “That’s all I want to hear. Show me you can be good.”

The last thing you want to do is to thank him. That would mean admitting that you’ve lost, and that ruffles your preening feathers. But you want that goodness back, you want his hips snapping into you and that tight knot back in your belly. You’d do anything for it; even forget your ego.

Your mind is gone, anyway. Whatever your rational self would do, it doesn’t matter. There’s one thing that you want right now, and getting it is so easy. “Thank you, Taehyun. Thank you so much… I’m sorry I’ve been a brat, and I’m sorry about what I said to you. Please, just… help me. Please, I need you so bad.”

You? Sorry? It’s absurd, and yet, you entirely mean it. Maybe it’s your lazy brain talking, or maybe he really has won.

“See? So sweet when you act right,” he says. “Let me show you what happens when you do.”

You could cry real tears when he sets that same pace, his hands bracing on your hips to pull you deeper into each thrust and the front of your body bouncing against the sheets with each. Your cries grow hoarse and beyond needy, and your insides twist and turn even more dangerously.

You are on the brink of something divine. Something that will melt down so well, good on the tongue and as smooth as chocolate, but as sharp as the snapping of gingerbread.

And, snap, he has.

“Yes!” you cry, straining your shoulders as you reach behind you and curl your fingers around the place where he meets your skin. “S..So good! Right there—thank you, Taehyun!”

He doubles down on you. His length hits a spongy spot in your core, pounding up against the walls there and turning your insides against you. It’s almost too good. “There we go,” he says, voice shaking with a growl. The delivery of his thrusts grows sloppy. You think he feels just as good as you do. “That’s what—” Falling over you, he supports himself with each strong arm dug into the mattress beside your head, his solid front melded to your soft back. “That’s what I like to hear. Here you go—fuck, I’m gonna give you what good girls get, okay?”

You hope it’s more of that melty icing he shot from his length earlier. The knot in your belly tightens, just on the brink of a glittery, bright explosion. “Mhm!” you say, your voice cracking. You want it—you want it so bad. The intensity of it, turning over in your veins and rendering your thighs jelly, sings in your ears. It’s a frightening greatness, but you rage against the urge to drop your hips into the mattress and run from it. You need to finally taste what you’ve been chasing. “Taehyun! Right there—please, don’t stop!”

You were demanding more from him again, but Taehyun didn’t stop this time. Not when his growls and whines against your shoulder tell you enough about how he’s feeling. He tongues and nips at your shoulders, the only sounds echoing off the walls of his room, the hollow smack of his hips against your bottom, and the only smell of the sweet mingling of his gingerbread sharpness against your heady marshmallow. It’s good enough to eat.

Crying out with a frantic whine, the feeling deep in your belly changes once more, and you’re writhing and squirming against him. Your hips buck and chase and run, wild and just as explosively as the tightness shooting down your thighs and up through your lower back.

Everywhere. You feel it everywhere. It’s in the continued bouncing of your body, in each nudge of his tip to a sweet, spongecake spot deep inside you, in his breathless pants into your skin, and in the curling of his fingers into your hair when he releases a hip to do so, and in your pleads when he chases his own delicious release. Your throat tightens, and suddenly the sheets are all too warm around you, and you realize with blistering intensity that another one of those knots builds up in your belly. It’s quicker, short, and bright. You’ve barely even made it through the last, but still, it comes.

“Holy shit,” he growls, hips stuttering and then stilling. He reaches a hand down between your thighs and finds a very sweet button. The breath in your throat catches, and in nothing more than a blink of an eye, you crash again, and then your bodies are two twitching, elated things. He presses himself impossibly deeper into you before shooting that same hotness, sweet ropes of sugary icing right into you, and your fluttering insides hold him tight and eat it up. Your heart pounds in your chest, running amok in your ears and your neck, and you try to catch running breaths to no avail.

Occasionally grinding up into you, though there is hardly any space between your joined bodies to do so, Taehyun shoots more lazy spurts for a few long moments. His breaths slow against your skin, and yours do in your chest. Slowly, you recover as two entangled bodies, all clammy and melted like left in the oven for a bit too long.

Pressing hot, wet kisses to the back of your neck, and then down your spine when he pushes off you and pulls himself out, his tongue darting out against your skin for some, he says, “Taste so good… So sweet, even on your skin…” He brushes the wild tangles of hair from your face and adds, “I wonder if you’ve gone all sweet inside, too? You look like it…” The mess of you, your thick creaminess staining your thighs and his runny load pooling from your hole, is all over. It even makes the sheets beneath you dirty with dribbles of his release as it drips. “I told you I’d get you sweet.”

If that sluggish, sugary thing moving through your veins is sweetness taking over you from the inside, perhaps you have gone sweet. Or, perhaps you now have every reason to become his worst nightmare—just if it gets you this.

You’ll play sweet for now. The softer kisses he seasons your skin with are no less enthralling than the delightful goodness still ebbing away between your thighs. You think that, for the first time, you have lost. 

And, to your very own dismay, it tastes so very sweet. 

... back to the masterlist ⌇ back to strawberryland

✎୭ ashlynn's note BRAT TAMER TAEHUN, amirite?

﹙📋﹚ @lvrs-street2mmorrow , @soohashits , @f4iryfever , @arcturus444 , @linqed , @serenityism00 , @immelissaaa , @luv4cheol , @20-cms , @hhoneylix , @beestvng , @hyucktapes , @bewitchless , @prince-jjae , @blankliving , @yaoizee , @stormy1408 , @missychief1404 , @izzyy-stuff , @miukuui , @lunesdesire , @304files , @sunoolver , @cherricola-star , @lickingan0rchid , @xylatox , @hmusunoo , @izzyy-stuff , @beomiracles , @joycelyjjj , @sunoolver , @lvrs-street2mmorrow , @apeachty , @fandomtrashsblog , @bewitchless , @yezzns2 , @hhoneyhan , @ethystclove , @darkdayelixer , @calumcxke , @biteyoubiteme , @bamgeutsz , @soobabby , @little-shiny-starr , @bambammtori , @bunniebun-posted , @heeambi , @bunnisoobin , @hwanghyunjinismybae if your tag isn't working, check the mentions part of your settings!

[toadifylackoffantasy]

Nucrest Cocoa Hoodie V2 4to3 conversion

My Castable version of the Cocoa Hoodie (version 2) by @nucrests.

I made 4 castable versions: Fullzip, Fullzip ombre, Halfzip, and halfzip ombre, each with 4 channels (see below). They're presets of one item.

Sorta-collab with my friend @geminipixels, who preferred converting the original overlays instead. I didn't plan to have this released so soon, but I got sucked into it :P I have a headache now... (I started on this ~2 days ago)

Everyday, athletic and outerwear (with accessory turtlenecks)

Young adult & adult male

Polycount: 4543 HLOD, 2852 MLOD, 1073 LLOD

All morphs, manually edited with Geom tools

4 Recolorable presets

Custom Made specular map to give the zipper justice

Custom thumbnails

Disabled for random

I had fun with the pre-made presets which I made with my sims in mind. Of course, the point of these is that they're *very* castable so I don't expect people to actually use these hyperspecific presets!

Download SFS / Mediafire

^I apparently had halfzip not-ombre selected/lightened up in CASt, but you can still see the channels: red - yellow - pink - white

Issues:

As you can see, their is a slightly weird fold at the armhole at the highest weight

Might have waistseam issues with some CC bottoms. In the pictures cc bottoms from 4 different creators are being worn. (Virtual-Hugs, MeochiCC, Peacemaker-IC and Nectar-Cellar)

Any other issues, please let me know ASAP!

Edit: i forgot to compress and the file is somehow 13 MB ... I merge & compress everything myself, but I will update with a compressed version tomorrow.

Made with:

Blender 4.2 and 3.6

Meshtoolkit

Smugtomato's Geom tools

TSRW

S3PE

S4CAStools

S4PE

Affinity Photo

With big thanks to @thornowl for helping me with the colorchannels (having 4 channels work in TSRW requires and extra step, apparently) and @geminipixels @simlicious and @elvgreen and more for general encouragement :)

@xto3conversionsfinds @eternalccfinds @pis3update @matchsim @simfluencer-network

EDIT 24/05

Pregmorph added

[simmireen]

A simmireen x The Serenade of Shadows collab posepack (and more)!

'Koek & Zopie' ~ Santareen adventcalender DAY 18 13 posesets for 1 to 4 sims for your traditional dutch wintery scenes ♥ DOWNLOAD (SFS) DOWNLOAD (Patreon) (always free!) You need: Mug recolor HERE | MESH (version 2!) Sled HERE Iceskates (adult/kids) HERE Sign recolor HERE (optional) Hot cocoa stand recolor HERE (optional) The lot we used HERE (optional) (you need outdoor retreat, the sign and cocoa stand are included, so you don't need to download those if you download the lot)

If you don't follow my dear friend Melissa @theserenadeofshadows yet, please do. She makes poses, makes an amazing story on instagram and overall is a very driven and dedicated creator in our community. Keep on eye on her! Follow her here: PATREON | INSTAGRAM | TUMBLR UPDATE: there was a little oopsie with the mug for toddlers/children, down below a picture how you let the mug show up for them! You need sims 4 studio here

♥~♥ Clipping sadly is inevitable due to sim bodies/faces being different, or the clothing they wear, but I try my best to fit most of them. Be free to tag me at tumblr, insta or bluesky if you use my poses (@simmireen) You can find an overview of all my posepacks at Pinterest Want to commission me? > Ko-Fi page Terms of use Don’t claim as yours or put behind a paywall Don’t re-edit (adjusting hands is always allowed, just don’t change up my pose) Don’t reupload anywhere Please let me know if something doesn’t work!

@ts4-poses @sssvitlanz @alwaysfreecc

[chlorinecake]

ᅟᅟᅟ❚❘❙❘ ✙ ✦ 𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐅 + 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 ᅟᅟᅟ❚❘❙❘ ✙ ✦

ᅟᅟᅟ⌕ 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: I write sfw and nsfw content, so please proceed with caution and read responsibly. Also, I am Niki's biological mama! Just don't ask about his dada, please... It's complicated.

ᅟᅟᅟ⌕ 𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐬: NO stepcest, p!ss k!nk, period sex, bondage, member x member, ana! stuff (including pegging), age-play, hybrid au’s, three(or more)somes, race-specific smut

📍NEW riize masterlist

| A | angst | F | fluff | M | mature | S | suggestive | C | crack

✪ 𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠 | 이희승

leading you on | l.hs

-> loser!streamer!church boy!heeseung, smut

✪ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐚𝐲 | 박제이

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞 | 𝐏.𝐣𝐒

-> rich!bf!jay, gossip girl au, smut

✿ — let me take care of you | p.js

-> when caring fiancé!jay takes care of you on your period, fluff

❝ MOLTO BELLA ❞ — P.JS

-> soft dom! guitarist bf!jay x bratty!switch gf reader, smut

✪ 𝐒𝐢𝐦 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 | 심제이크

Love On A Leash | 심재윤 𓇢𓆸

-> neighbors to crushes au, fluff, crack, suggestive

cross my heart and hope to die

-> star student!fratboy!jake, cnc themes, smut

Imagine Pervy Massage Therapist Jake…

-> massage therapist!jake x female!client, smut

— 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞

-> stalker ex bf! jake x stalker ex gf! reader, smut

✪ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧 | 박성훈

Ｂｌｏｏｄ Ｏｎ Ｉｃｅ | 얼음에 피 (complete)

-> yandere ghostface!sunghoon series, dark themes, smut, angst

⤷ blood on ice part 1

⤷ blood on ice part 2

⤷ blood on ice part 3

= 𝓙𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮, 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 ── P.SH 💬

-> long distance relationship au, suggestive, crack

— 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 | 𝐩.𝐬𝐡 ׅ ㅤ֢ ㅤׄㅤ . (tba...)

-> soft!dom hoon, smut, fluff, a bit of crack

✪ 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐨𝐨 | 김선우

𐙚 — 𝐜𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 | 𝐤.𝐬𝐧

-> slutty picnic date with bf!sunoo, fluff, smut

me with the guy I told ppl I hate | 𝐤.𝐬𝐧 (tba...)

-> ex bsf ! sunoo, social media au, smut

✪ 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐰𝐨𝐧 | 양정원

𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊 - a yjw oneshot 🕹️ ☆ most popular

-> roommate au, smut, crack

Imagine Illegal Racer Jungwon...

-> illegal racer!bf!jungwon, smut

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐏’𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒

-> obsessive yandere!jungwon, angst, suggestive

⤷ the sheep's garden part 1

⤷ the sheep's garden part 2

⤷ the sheep's garden part 3

⤷ the sheep's garden part 4

part 5 coming soon...

𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬 | 𝐘.𝐉𝐖

-> comfy bathtub sex with bf!jungwon, smut, fluff

✿ — sticky notes to love letters | y.jw

-> shy classmate!jungwon, fluff, crack, school au

Fuck Now, Talk Later | Y.JW

-> soft dom! bf! jungwon x subby! gf!reader, smut, comfort, angst

✪ 𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐍𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐚 | 니키니시무라

⋆｡˚ ✈︎ The Flirty TSA Agent Series (complete)

-> strangers to lovers au, fluff, crack

⤷ scene one: finder’s keepers

⤷ scene two: lost and found

⤷ scene three: would you walk away?

⤷ scene four: love at first flight

“𝐈 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮” | 𝐍.𝐑𝐊 𝐟𝐟 ༄

-> spending valentines day with bf!riki, fluff

[Vitamin C]uddles —⊹ N.RK (西村力) 🛏️

-> taking care of sick bf!riki, fluff, crack ☆ most popular

“kissing, I hope they caught us” ┈ ❊ ﹒ 🌪️

-> steamy kisses with bf!riki, fluff

Hot Cocoa Kisses —⊹ N.RK (西村力) ☕️

-> kisses with bf!riki on a winter day, fluff

“cake for breakfast?” ┈ ❊ ﹒ 🎀

-> celebrating your b-day with bf!riki, fluff, crack

❛ she’s my cherry cola ❜ ┈ ❊ ﹒ ☁️

-> when bf!riki sings you to sleep at night, fluff

PDA —⊹ N.RK (西村力) 🐈‍⬛

-> shy boyfriend!riki, fluff

🎙️ star-crossed lovers 【 薄幸な恋人 】 ⛦

-> idol!niki, band collab au, fluff, drama

⤷ TRACK 1: Reckless Romance

⤷ TRACK 2: Forbidden Sparks Fly

⤷ TRACK 3: The Show Must Go On

track 4 coming soon...

✩ Upcoming Niki Fic Ideas ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ - not soon but in progress

✪ 𝐎𝐓𝟕 | 엔하이픈

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Restless Nights w Enhypen ! ⩇⩇:⩇⩇

-> bf! enhypen, fluff, crack

「 ✦ enha reaction’s WHEN YOU LEARN THEIR PART IN A DANCE CHOREOGRAPHY ✦ 」

-> idol!bf enhypen, fluff, crack

THEY CALL HER NASTY

-> smut drabbles w/ the hyung!line (overstimulation kink)

SO PRETTY IT HURTS

-> rough sex drabbles w/ legal!line ft. nsfw links

𝐓𝐡𝐞 “𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬” 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 🎱 (complete)

-> yandere!stalker!enhypen, angst, suggestive

⤷ Convenient Chances

⤷ Convenient Chances ll

⤷ Convenient Chances lll

⤷ Convenient Chances IV

✶ Caught Slippin’ | 18+ ENHA REACTIONS

-> bf!enha getting caught in the act, smut ☆ most popular

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 Laced With Lust | 18+ REACTIONS

-> what lingerie bf!enha!legal line would like, smut, fluff

𐙚 Cherry Blossoms | 18+ EN- REACTIONS

-> bf!enha!legal line reaction to another member touching your boobs, suggestive, crack

𝟕𝟕𝟕 | 𝐜𝐧𝐜 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐚 𝐟𝐭. 𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐢

-> dark themes, suggestive to smut

Gangbang Imagine ft. Enha!Hyung Line

-> keep in mind that I don’t write threesomes anymore pls !!

❝ 𝒫𝓇𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓃𝓉’𝓈 𝐹𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 ❞ ┈ asking enha!legal line to unwrap you under the Christmas tree

-> holiday au, smut to suggestive

「 𓍯𓂃 A 𝒢UIDE TO OVERCOMING YOUR INSECURITIES 」

-> comfort scenarios w/ bf!enha, fluff, angst

♥♥♥ 𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚜 !!

ᅟᅟᅟ⌕ 𝐀𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬: 💋, 😼, 🐥, 😹/🫐, 🪻, 🎀 , 🪼, ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

-> Thanks for stopping by!!

♡ matching w/ nana since 10/31/23 ~

and tysm for 1,000+ followers !!

© chlorinecake ┌iii┐

[demie90s]

Dirty South, Deeper Love

Flau’jae x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

MASTERLIST | MORE

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Your a rising southern rapper from Baton Rouge, all iced grills and slow-burning confidence. She’s never touched a basketball, but she’s made a name spitting heat—and people keep comparing her to Flau’jae.

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Rivalry-to-lovers, slow-burn flirtation, Southern heat, industry tension, black girl luxury + chaos

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ:Swearing, heavy flirting, tension you can cut with a knife, suggestive banter, light possessiveness

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: ~ 0.8k

ᴠɪʙᴇ: Cash Money Records 2003 but make it sapphic. Iced out lips, studio lights low, tension simmering, mouths too close to call it rap beef.

When people started comparing me to Flau’jae, I took it as a compliment. Girl was doing her thing—bars, game, image, a whole empire in motion.

But I guess she ain’t take it the same.

First time I noticed was in an interview. Somebody mentioned me, said, “You seen that girl from Baton Rouge? They calling her the next Flau’jae.” She laughed. Not in a good way. Said something slick about people “riding waves.”

Cool. You don’t like me? Watch me grow more than you.

I didn’t chase nobody. But I didn’t run from pressure either. So when I got the call for a Jordan Brand collab shoot—found out she was on the campaign too? I cleared my schedule.

Let’s play, then.

⸻

Studio in Atlanta. Bright white walls, lights set up, makeup chair in the corner. I pulled up early, iced out, sweats low on my hips, fresh retwist and lip gloss poppin’. I took my time walking in, every inch of me calm. Collected.

I already had fans. Already had streams. Already had notebooks full of verses that could eat half the industry alive.

I didn’t need to prove I was talented. I just wanted her to see I was undeniable.

She walked in loud. Big laugh, big chain, smile like she ain’t worried about shit. Her eyes met mine and just like that, the room tensed up.

“You the Baton Rouge one?” she asked, adjusting her jacket like it was hot.

I nodded. “You the Savannah one?”

She smirked but didn’t answer. Sat across from me, legs open, gold teeth peeking from her grin.

“I heard you write everything yourself,” she said after a beat.

“Every word,” I replied.

“That’s cute.”

“Cute?” I raised an eyebrow. “Baby, I ghostwrote for two platinum records and still had time to finish my verse before you even dropped your pre-hook.”

Her eyes flickered.

I smiled slow. “But yeah. Cute.”

⸻

It wasn’t beef. Not really. It was that thick kinda tension you can only get from two girls who both know they’re cold.

When the cameras turned off and the producer came in, talking about a promo single for the campaign, I swear she looked at me like, don’t get too comfortable.

He said we were writing it together. I almost laughed. God has jokes.

We got in the booth and I stayed cool, pen in hand, headphones hanging around my neck. Flau’jae sat next to me, scrolling, not writing shit.

“You ain’t gone start?” I asked, twirling my pen.

“I freestyle most of my shit,” she shrugged.

I tapped my notebook. “That’s cute.”

She turned to look at me, mouth parted, something between impressed and irritated.

“You think you better than me?”

“Nah,” I said, standing. “I know I’m different than you. Better? That’s for the charts to decide.”

Her jaw flexed. “You real bold for someone who just got here.”

I leaned in real close. Close enough she could smell my cocoa butter. Close enough I could hear her breathing change.

“Boldness got me here, mama,” I whispered. “What got you pressed?”

⸻

In the booth, I spit my verse first. Clean. Controlled. Had the engineer grinning halfway through. When I stepped out, Flau’jae didn’t say a word. Just stood up, cracked her neck, and stepped in.

She was fire. I ain’t even lie.

But you know what I saw? Between every bar? The way her eyes kept flicking to the glass. To me. Sitting there. Watching her. Smiling.

When the beat dropped out, she didn’t look away. She took the headphones off slow, stepped out like the room owed her something, and walked right up to me.

“I see why they hype you,” she said.

“Do you?”

She looked me over like she wasn’t sure whether to slap me or pull me into her lap. “Yeah. But I ain’t sold yet.”

I leaned back against the console, crossing my arms. “You don’t gotta be. I’m not tryna be your favorite. I’m tryna be unforgettable.”

Flau’jae licked her lip, eyes glinting.

“I’ll give you that,” she said. “You unforgettable, alright.”

⸻

I sat back in the chair and stretched, legs wide, iced-out chain glinting against my tank. The yellow backdrop behind us made the whole setup look loud, but not louder than the energy next to me.

Flau’jae sat with her ankle propped on her knee, gold fronts in, curls tight, phone face down for once. And for once—we were calm. No stage. No beat. Just us.

The interviewer pressed record.

“Alright,” the producer said. “We’re rolling. This is Flau’jae and Y/N, breaking down lyrics from their joint project Verses & Vices.”

I glanced over at her, smirking. “Go on, say it. You know the fans been screaming for this.”

She rolled her eyes but grinned. “Y’all swear we got beef. Meanwhile, I been picking her verses apart since the studio.”

“Flau’jae been studying me, y’all,” I said, leaning in with a fake gasp.

She shoved my arm lightly. “Don’t flatter yourself, Baton Rouge.”

⸻

They pulled up the first verse on a card and slid it across the table. Mine.

Told her don’t bite unless she got patience—

My ego big, but I eat slow, I’m gracious.

I laughed before they could even ask. “That was about her,” I said, pointing my thumb at Flau’jae.

“She lying,” Flau’jae cut in.

“Am I?” I tilted my head. “You was the one acting stank at the collab shoot. Mad ’cause they said we sound alike.”

“I ain’t mad,” she said, but the smirk cracked her denial. “I was surprised. You… you came in big. Confident. Whole leg out.”

“Thighs were moisturized,” I shrugged.

She looked dead at the camera. “And shiny.”

I bit my lip to stop from smiling. “Point is, it wasn’t beef. It was tension. That whole line? It was me saying, ‘You not ready for this pressure unless you got the stamina.’ I’m the type you unfold over time.”

She blinked like she forgot the cameras were rolling for a second. “Yeah. You really wrote that?”

I nodded once. And the way she looked at me? Heat. Hidden in cool.

⸻

Next up was her verse:

Slick mouth from the South, don’t tempt me—

She write like she fucked me already in entry.

The room fell silent.

I blinked. “See? And y’all thought I was bold.”

The producer choked on their sip of water. I looked over at Flau’jae, who was grinning like a demon in Dior.

“I meant it platonically,” she lied through her teeth.

“Oh, you fucked me platonically in a verse?”

She laughed, full chest. “Man, don’t start.”

I leaned back. “Too late. It was already started the minute you heard me spit in that booth.”

Flau’jae didn’t deny it this time. She just drummed her fingers on the table and whispered, “Maybe.”

⸻

By the third card, we’d both abandoned the posture. Our chairs turned inward. Knees bumping sometimes. That natural southern rhythm between us.

The line they picked next? If we rivals, why you know my laugh by heart?

The producer asked, “Who wrote that?”

We answered at the same time.

“Me,” I said.

“Her,” she said.

We stared at each other.

“Oh,” I blinked. “So you admit it?”

Flau’jae sucked her teeth. “Whatever.”

I nudged her leg. “You the only person who gets mad at lyrics about them, then steals ‘em for the bridge.”

“It sounded better coming from me.”

“But it felt better coming from me,” I said quietly.

She didn’t smile. Just locked eyes with me like she wanted to argue. Or agree. Instead, she reached for her water.

⸻

The video ran twenty minutes. Fans would clip it down to seconds. Moments like—

When I licked my thumb and smoothed her lyric sheet just to be annoying.

When she leaned over, whispering, “Fix my line again and I’m biting you.”

When I said, “This whole album was foreplay,” and she didn’t laugh—just stared like I might be right.

When they asked, “So are you two dating?”

And we said in sync:

“No.” Then stared at each other.

“Not Yet.”

[duskvsdawn]

hii, may i request 10 & 17(sfw) for luca? :D it could be a mix between the two too!! thank youu

≫ A/N: Haaaaiii! Ofcourse! I ended up combining the two because it sounded so sweet! Also idk what's going on but 3 fics in 1 day? ZADDY CHILL.

CW: Not much really, this is just the two of you being adorable and flustered, reader is a part of Niji EN, Mysta is still in Luxiem, reader and Luca make out, suggestive ending

Art credits.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

If you like my works, please like, comment and reblog! It is much appreciated ❤ And if you really enjoyed it, please follow me so you can be kept up to date on future uploads! Please do not re-upload, translate, or use for AI training.

Wait, you love me too?! POG!

It was that time of the year again, Christmas. A holiday you usually hated so much, due to all the things that happened to you bubbling up during those days. You've had quite some losses, lots of stress, and it seemed like there was some kind of curse on your family. Nothing ever went well. Every time something happened, you never got time to recover because something new that absolutely sucked would happen.

But not this year. This year, you were having an off-collab with the Luxiem boys, and you had looked forward to it for weeks. When you had all arrived at the accommodation you rented for this collab, you greeted the boys. You hugged them all and had some casual talk about life. There was, however, one person who would always ask you the deeper questions: Luca. He loved you a lot and always wanted you to do well. You had talked with him a lot over the year or so you got to know him quite well, and the other way around. Mysta always teased Luca a lot about his massive crush on you, and so did Vox. He would always brush it off as "the boys just being silly".

Unbeknownst to him, you also liked him a lot. Over time, you got to know him, you fell in love with him with every bit more interest he was showing in you. Your genmates always teased you a lot, too. You could never keep quiet about how much you loved the golden retriever puppy man when you were with them, and it was your friends who came up with a certain idea that you wanted to put into action during your little trip at the bungalow you rented.

All of you were doing a collab stream, unpacking the gifts you had bought for each other while drinking some hot cocoa. All of you were having lots of fun, and for the first time in many years, Christmas wasn't so bad. The time came when you would exchange gifts with Luca. You handed each other the gifts, and both of you squished the gifts. Luca tilted his head and then started laughing. "Reader, don't tell me we bought each other the same thing. That would be absolutely crazy!" Luca said as he went to unwrap his gift, and you did the same. When both of you had unwrapped your presents, both of you laughed so hard, and so did the other boys. You had bought each other the exact same golden retriever puppy plush! You always called him that, after all, and he always said that he was your adorable golden puppy. You hugged each other after your laughing fit, and then he thanked you for your marvellous gift.

The evening came, and all of you said your goodbyes for the night as you went to your respective rooms. After you were sure the others were asleep, you softly knocked on Luca's door. "Come in," he said, already knowing it would be you. You entered and closed the door behind you, nervously clutching the little bag you had with you. "Hey, my adorable golden puppy," you said with a shaky voice as you sat down on his bed next to him. You pretended to be tough, but Luca knew you too well by now and noticed something was up.

"What's wrong, reader? And don't tell me you're fine because I can tell you're not," he said as he gently put his hand on top of yours after you had put the little bag on the bed behind your back. "It's just... Today was so nice... And then everyone went to bed and I felt so lonely after all that fun we had today," you whispered as you tried to hold back your tears, but one of them spilt over anyway. Luca was shocked and kind of panicked. He'd seen you cry before, but this felt different. The reason was different, after all. This was you crying because you had such a blast today, and now you were sad because you were left on your own.

"Would you... Uh... Like to stay here for a bit? Maybe even sleep here?" he said as he lay down and made room so you could lie down next to him. But you didn't do that, and he panicked a little more. "Sorry, maybe that's a bit much. But I don't want you to feel alone," he said as the nerves were eating away at him. "No, no, that's not it," you reassured him, "it's just that I have one more gift for you," you said as a blush appeared on your cheeks. Luca could barely notice your blush in the dimly lit room, but he certainly did. He asked you what the gift was. You asked him to sit up and close his eyes, and he did as you asked. You rustled around in the bag until you found the item you were looking for.

"You can open your eyes now," you said as you had moved closer to him, so close that your breath was ghosting over his face. Luca looked around, confused, until you pointed upwards. Luca looked up and saw you were holding a mistletoe above both of you. His eyes lit up; he couldn't believe this was happening! He grabbed your face and gave you an enthusiastic kiss. "If I knew you were going to do this, I would have never left you alone in the first place," Luca said with a chuckle. You threw the mistletoe to the side and tacklehugged Luca. You lay on top of him, happily hugging the golden puppy. "I had no idea you ever wanted to do this... I really wanted to, but didn't expect you to react like this," you said with a shy giggle as you left a short kiss on his lips. But Luca wanted more. He held your face once more and gave you a loving and slow kiss. His tongue poked out to part your lips, which you did. As you moved your tongue against his, you could feel the blush on your cheeks spreading to your ears. They felt so hot, thanks to the kiss, that they were pretty much glowing at this point.

The kiss had left you absolutely breathless. This was something both of you had needed for so long. You let out a satisfied sigh as you kept holding his head, looking deeply into his eyes. They were like beautiful, masterfully crafted amethysts, and you could drown in them for an eternity if he would let you. You lay your head down on his chest to feel his heartbeat under your ear. It felt comforting in a way.

"Hey, Luca? Does this mean... We're... Like a thing now?" you asked as you leaned up to look him in the eyes once more. "Well, if you want us to be, totally!" Luca replied as he left a kiss on your nose. It was so cute and it made you giggle. You kept shifting on top of him, trying to get comfortable. But that did something to Luca in the downstairs department.

"Hey, reader?" Luca asked as he gently took hold of your head once more. You replied with a questioning hum. "How about we let the others hear that we are a thing now?" he asked you as he wiggled his eyebrows. You couldn't deny him, not when he's being like that.

Mysta, who was sleeping in the room next to Luca's, got woken up by a banging noise against the wall. When he heard what the cause was, he just chuckled, covered his head with his pillow and said: "My man, Luca. Get some."

[toadifylackoffantasy]

Nucrest Cocoa Hoodie V2 for teenagers

The @nucrests cocoa hoodie version 2 for teenagers, previously made for adults which was recently updated.

It doesn't have any of the original swatches because I made the original as a sort-of collab with @geminipixels , who did the TS4 presets while I did a castable version, and to give it presets I would need to reconvert it from scratch. Though I do have ideas - I would make them hue-recolorable for example.

Download simblr.cc / SFS / Mediafire

About the hoodie

For teen male sims

Sensible specular map (near-black with shiny zipper), blank normal map.

4 presets with 4 combo's of multiplier-mask, 4 channels each.

Enabled for everyday, sleepwear, athletic, outerwear (with accessory tops) and career

Fat, fit, thin morphs

All LODS: 4537 F - 3374 V / 2098 - 1428 / 891 - 698

Custom Thumbnails

Made with

Blender 3.6

Affinity photo

Adobe photoshop

TSRW

S3PE

Meshing tool kit.

I wrote down my whole work progress, right here! Hopefully it can function a bit as a tutorial ♥

@katsujiiccfinds @eternalccfinds @wanderingsimsfinds @pis3update

[dark-frosted-heart]

Ikevil Chara Cafe collab menu

tl under cut

Drink Menu

🦊 Harrison Gray - I wonder if you can see through my lies...Melon soda? Fake drink? Allergen: Dairy

Cider

Emerald pineapple syrup

Whipped cream

Gummy

🐈 Liam Evans - How about taking a break with me? Strawberry tea for your hard work

Strawberry tea

Sugar cubes

🔫 Roger Barel - Research with me all night? Or...? Caffeine set Allergen: Dairy

Latte

Chocolate truffles

⚔ Ring Schwarz - I thought you'd like a drink. ~Gentle orange tea~ Allergen: Egg, dairy

Orange tea

Orange slice

Mint

Pastry

Food Menu

⛓ Ellis Twilight - Hey, would eating this make you happy? Croissant sandwich Allergen: Egg, dairy, wheat

Croissant (ham, lettuce, egg salad, cucumber)

Mixed salad

Boiled egg

Lemon dressing

Yogurt

Blueberry sauce

🛡 Nica Schwarz - Girls like this stuff, right? Pesto pasta Allergen: wheat, dairy

Pasta

Pesto sauce

Cherry tomato

Mushroom

Cured ham

Basil

🪞 Alfons Sylvatica - I'd like to please your body. A hodgepodge of a healthy salad. ~Garnished with Alfons' dressing~ Allergen: Dairy, egg

Spring mix

Kale

Cherry tomato

Radicchio

Grilled chicken

Shredded carrot

Chick pea

Raisin

Caesar dressing

Food coloring (blue)

⌛ Jude Jazza - Requesting some damn thing that takes time. Something Jude made for a hungry Ellis. Allergen: Dairy, wheat

Stew

Carrot

Onion

Broccoli

Chicken

Baguette

Dessert Menu

💟 William Rex - I put evil (love) into it for you. Chocolate fondant Allergen: Wheat, egg, dairy

Chocolate fondant

Vanilla ice cream

Strawberry

Blueberry

Raspberry sauce

Powdered sugar

Chervil

💀 Victor - What sweets would you like today? Greedy robin's sweets/dessert set Allergen: Milk, egg, wheat

No-bake cheesecake

Whipped cream

Blueberry

Chervil

Scone

Chocolate truffle

👼 Darius Vogel - I'm full, so you can have it. Cruel angel's charitable waffle plate Allergen: Wheat, egg, milk

Waffle

Vanilla ice cream

Powdered sugar

Maple syrup

Mixed berries

Slice almond

Chervil

Strawberry sauce

🍎 Elbert Greetia - I want to trap you too...Dome parfait with beautiful things Allergen: Wheat, egg, milk, walnut

Brownie

Blue whipped cream

Whipped cream

Food coloring (blue)

Milk

Chiffon cake (black tea)

Cocoa biscuit

Marshmallow

Chervil

Dried lemon

Silver dragée

Special Dessert Set - Come, let's have the finest afternoon with you. Special dessert set Allergen: Wheat, walnut, egg, milk

Roll cake (Kyoho grape, chocolate)

Brownie

Macaron (Raspberry, vanilla)

Whipped cream

Cracker

Cured ham

Camembert cheese

Quiche

Olive

Mint

~

Soda

Strawberry syrup

Mixed berries

Edible gold

[neiptune]

look at you, looking at me

cw: 1.3k wc, this is my entry for @gojoath's yandere collab! this armin comes with charm and a hint of obsessive behavior, it's quite short but i haven't written anything in a minute so i hope you'll still enjoy :)

“Uhm— excuse me?”

The soft voice peels your attention away from the thick book you’ve been immersed in for the past minutes and you suddenly find yourself focusing on delicate features, azure gaze limpid yet hesitant boring into yours.

“I’m so sorry, is it okay if I sit here? The cafe is packed, I’ve been waiting for half an hour now” a tentative smile stretches rose shaded lips “and, well, I could only gather enough courage to ask because we’re kinda here to do the same thing. Unless you’re waiting for someone” the smile grows wider, cheeks dusted with a pink so pretty as he holds up the same book you had started reading just yesterday on the subway.

A little taken aback, you smile too and his dimple gets a little deeper in turn.

“Sure, take a seat! I’m not waiting for anyone”

Armin graciously lets his backpack slip from his shoulder onto the floor and places the battered copy of Les Miserables on the table, at measured distance from your latte. You fixate on the book as he wanders off to place his order, not before offering one last relieved smile and uttering a thanks so quiet it almost gets swallowed by the voices murmuring at different tables and the sound of the coffee machine behind the counter.

The book is worn out, with black ink stains smeared across the fore edge, rendered thicker by what you assume are colorful sticky notes used for annotations. Is he studying it? Or is he just one of those readers who are the complete opposite of you? Always so careful, almost reverent with each title: your fingers explore attentively, to feel the furrows that make each page special, invisible irregularities that make you smile and bring comfort until you truly can’t resist anymore and bring the book up to your face to give it a quick sniff. When you encounter a paragraph or a sentence that you can’t risk forgetting, the palest trail of a pencil is the only thing you use to highlight it.

When the stranger comes back with his cappuccino, cocoa powder sprinkled on top, it’s a bit disappointing that he simply sits down across you and picks up the book once more without uttering a single word. Usually you’d simply go back to reading too but he has nice hands with fingers that spread prettily to hold what’s not exactly a light book, the afternoon sun is hitting his fair hair just right and you’ve been sitting in silence for enough time to crave a chat—

His gaze travels up from the page that had his brows furrowing and you’re so embarrassed to be caught staring with the same intensity some lurker would have.

“God, sorry” you chuckle nervously, blood suddenly simmering underneath excessively layered clothing, “it’s just… you seem to really like it. The book, I mean. I’m always scared to ruin the ones I love the most but yours seems just as loved”.

He smiles and a pretty blush sets on his cheeks as one hand timidly scratches the back of his neck.

“Well, I mean, love changes things. I like looking back at the things I loved and seeing how different they are compared to when I first got them, you know?”

“Yeah” you smile back “yeah, I think I know what you mean. Would it be weird to ask about the notes you’re taking?”

“Of course not, but I’d ruin the book for you. To keep it vague and spoiler free, I usually highlight dialogues or descriptions that really impress me. If they remind me of authors or poetry I have already explored, I expand on the concept and add my own thoughts. It’s messy and very underwhelming once you actually go through it” his awkward smile radiates warmth and, hell, you think it’s attractive.

“You sure make it sound anything but underwhelming, though” you deem the chuckle you elicit a small victory, so it’s only natural to finally introduce yourself.

Armin utters his name with bashfulness, he’s aware it sounds odd but your reaction to hearing it for the first time is the one thing he wouldn’t have been able to predict. You say it back: Armin. Wow! Are you from Germany? I think it comes from Arminius. Yeah, sorry, I have a Classics degree!

Armin.

It sounds so much better when you say it and he licks his lips by a weird reflex that tastes like coffee instead of the sweetness of your chapstick: you’re wearing it today too, not really one for lipsticks, the dim lights of the crowded cafe accentuating the mild shine of your pretty lips. 100% natural, moisturising peppermint lip balm. He can’t wait until he’s alone once more to apply the waxy consistency to his lips with his index finger, just like you always do.

“Jean” Armin replies to your question with ease, his thoughts are already wandering off but you certainly don’t need to know that as you take a sip from what he’s sure it’s a latte gone cold “not only because he shares one of my friends’ name. I just love that he embodies hope, even in such darkness”

He knows you’re gonna love Enjolras and perhaps even Eponine, conflict and tragedy always, inevitably luring you in. Armin wouldn’t love you as much if you weren’t so fascinated by pain: the movies you usually pick, all the plays you have watched with friends and family, even those ridiculous true crime podcasts you listen to at night right before going to bed, show that you have depth, that you’re interested in the fundamental sorrow and evil that lies in everything human.

Not in you. The pettiest thing you ever did was getting the last twix from the vending machine at your workplace, to get back at your idiotic colleague. You’re incapable of being selfish or wicked and that’s what worries him the most, that’s what keeps him awake at night and urged him to finally bring himself to come out into the open.

It's a little unfortunate: he hates ruining books and had to visit a couple different shops to find an edition that would match yours, hours spent cracking the spine, aging those brand new pages, adding empty colorful sticky notes and random stains. Tea, coffee, ink, the explosion of an old but elegant fountain pen, different bookmarks to make the book look thicker, fuller, filled with thoughts that never really existed. He's read it while in high school, hated every page, each character, dialogues and painfully detailed descriptions a never ending agony that used to fuel his nightmares as a student.

Most importantly, Armin is far from having everything ready for you just yet. But man, was this worth it. You’re more beautiful than ever up close, your voice is as smooth as the satin of the pink ribbons he has bought for you. Now Armin’s certain they’ll match the color of your eyes just right.

“You have a friend named Jean? That’s so cool!” you lean forward over the table, it’s imperceptible but, like an opposite magnet, he’s instantly drawn to your floral scent.

“He’s okay” he chuckles with sincere affection “always drags me along for the most insane hikes”

You huff, sympathetic.

“Ouch. I hate hikes” of course you do “I’d probably just ghost him”

“Tried that. He has the keys to my apartment so he simply dragged me out of bed at the crack of dawn”

You wrinkle your nose adorably.

“Damn, that’s some dedication. Maybe I’ll end up meeting this Jean guy and convince him to leave you alone”

Armin freezes in his seat. Ths first thought that crosses his mind is not a chance in hell.

He’ll keep his friends away from you, Jean and Connie and Eren, with their charming smiles and good looks and lame jokes you’d be too polite not to laugh at. You’re too good for them, you’d be too good for anyone, the thought of you sitting in a coffee shop on your own is already torture. You truly don’t realize how hideous and dangerous the world and its people can be.

“What’s that face?” the silver tinkling of your laugh is a pleasant interference for increasingly febrile thoughts “you weren’t even going to ask for my number, after all this?”

Armin blinks his surprise away, heat spreading in his chest with the intensity of fireworks explonding in the night sky.

He licks his lips again.

[hetalianhistorian]

Menu and goods information has been released for the upcoming Hetalia Halloween Party AMOCAFE collab!

Source links: 1 2

The event period will run from October 10th until November 11th. Reservations will start on October 6th! It is advised to read the precautions before signing for a reservation, in which you can find through the AMOCAFE website.

Something peculiar about this collaboration menu is that it seems it will change halfway through the event. The first two weeks will serve a menu based off the Axis and the later half will serve based on the Allies! If you are dropping by this event for a certain character, please keep in mind of the dates!

That said, below are the menu items with each dish and drink being themed after each character. The dates, ingredients, and prices will all be included. Please keep in mind that I use a translator for all of these, so there may be mistakes!

Menu (10/10 - 10/24)

Italy

For dish, Spaghetti al Nero di Seppia- ¥1,540 yen each - Squid pasta/squid, tomato, and powdered cheese. For drink, Amaretto Milk Almond Latte - ¥880 yen each - Amaretto milk, and whipped/sliced almonds.

Germany

For dish, Baumkuchen - ¥1,210 yen each - Plain chocolate, marshmallow, and chocolate sauce. For drink, Kiba - ¥880 yen each - Cherry syrup, banana syrup, and milk.

Japan

For dish, Chestnut Rice and Seared Bonito Set Meal - ¥1,870 yen each - Seared bonito over straw, sliced onion, shiso leaf, daikon radish with ponzu sauce, boiled hijiki, chestnut rice, sesame salt, wakame, daikon miso soup, and bamboo charcoal powder. For drink, Brown Sugar Milk - ¥880 yen each - Brown sugar syrup, milk, and whipped warabi mochi.

Portugal

For dish, Pastel de Nata - ¥1,100 yen each - Egg tart, caramel ice cream, caramel sauce, and cocoa powder. For drink, Port Wine Grape Juice - ¥880 yen each - Elderflower syrup, grape juice, mixed nuts, and honey.

Spain

For dish, Creme Catalana - ¥1,210 yen each - Creme brulee, bamboo charcoal powder, cinnamon powder, orange peel, and orange. For drink, Calimocho-Style Drink - ¥880 yen each - Grape juice, cola, and lime mint.

Prussia

For dish, Götterspeise - ¥1,100 yen each - Strawberry jelly, strawberry, raspberry, custard raspberry sauce, mint, and bamboo charcoal powder. For drink, Schwarz Coffee Tonic - ¥880 yen each - Instant coffee and carbonated water.

Romano

For dish, Polpo Affogato - ¥1,540 yen each - Octopus, tomato sauce, olive, parsley, countryside garlic butter sauce, and bamboo charcoal powder. For drink, Limoncello Royal Lemonade -¥880 yen each - Peach lemonade, white grape soda, and lemon mint.

Menu (10/25 - 11/10)

America

For dish, Sugar Glazed Donuts - ¥1,210 yen - Baked donuts, chocolate sauce, chocolate spray, sugar glaze, and white chocolate. For drink, Pumpkin Latte - ¥880 yen - Pumpkin milk and whipped cinnamon powder.

England

For dish, Shepherd's Pie - ¥1,540 yen each - Meat sauce, mashed potato, cheese, and seaweed. For drink, Pimm's Style Drink - ¥880 yen each - Elderflower syrup, black tea, white grape juice, carbonated water, orange, cucumber, raspberry, and mint.

France

For dish, Potage de Potiron - ¥1,210 yen each - Pumpkin soup, fresh cream, and fresh bread. For drink, Chocolat Chaud - ¥880 yen each - Chocolate sauce and milk whipped cream.

Russia

For dish, Blini - ¥1,210 yen each - Crepes, sour cream, strawberry jam, raspberry sauce, and granola. For drink, Yagoda Lemonade - ¥880 yen each - Lemon syrup, strawberry sauce mixed berries, and mint.

China

For dish, Black Sesame Dan Dan Noodles - ¥1,320 yen each - Dan Dan noodles, black garlic oil, green onion, meat miso, and cheese. For drink, Tapioca with Coconut Milk - ¥880 yen each - Coconut milk, tapioca, whipped condensed milk, and mint.

Goods Information

Source links: 1 2

There will be goods available for purchase and offered during the event!

Goods List

Acrylic Stand - ¥1,540 yen each

Mini Acrylic Stand Keychain - ¥880 yen each

Clear File - ¥770 yen each

A2 Sized Tapestry - ¥3,960 yen each

Mini Tapestry - ¥1,650 yen each

Clear Card - ¥550 yen each

Postcard Set - ¥1,210 yen each

Tin Badge - ¥550 yen each

Offers List

For every character drink ordered, you will receive a free coaster of random design.

For every character dish ordered, you will receive a free placemat of random design.

A random invitation ticket style card will be given out to customers who come to the event! The offer will continue while supplies last.

For every ¥2,000 yen spent on food, drinks, or products, you will receive a random heart card from each period at the register! If there are any defects on the card, exchange will be limited to the time of your departure.

For every ¥3,000 yen spent, you will receive a lottery application form for a random mini-sized stand panel! If you receive this application, you will need to drop it off in the application box within the café. The lottery will be drawn once the collaboration ends.

[did-i-do-this-write]

The Writeblr Coffee Shop

Ask game made for the Writeblr Village. Feel free to use it as you please!

Americano: Have you ever done a collab with an artist or another writer? How did it go?

Espresso: Are there any ideas in your WIP that you never would have thought of without a friend’s help?

Latte: What's your favorite thing to share with other people?

Mocha: Share a fact about your OCs and I'll share a related one about mine!

Macchiato: Share a fact about your WIP and I'll share a related fact about mine!

Cappuccino: Share a fact about your writing process and I'll share a fact about mine!

Hot cocoa: Do you have a drink of choice while you're writing? What is it?

Earl Grey tea: What's the best compliment you've ever gotten on your writing?

Green tea: What do you consider your writing “brand”? The thing people recognize you for and always expect from you?

Herbal tea: Do you listen to music while you write? Do you make playlists for your stories? What kind of music do you use?

Oolong tea: What’s your favorite thing about the writing community?

Chamomile tea: What motivates you to write the most?

Cream and sugar: What's the fluffiest part about your WIP? Could be a specific scene or idea or character dynamic, anything!

Honey: What’s your favorite thing to add into your stories, even if it doesn't necessarily have anything to do with the plot?

Milk: Do you have a rec list? Call out some of your favorite writers in the community and their works!