#Orange Peel in Dark Chocolate

[kokomae]

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[chaoticsoft]

When pain is a daily reality, pleasure is medicine.

[levithestripper]

would they peel an orange for you

masterlist

warnings: gender-neutral reader, none

included characters: yuji itadori, megumi fushiguro, toge inumaki, yuta okkotsu, and kokichi muta (mechamaru).

length: 1.2k || read on ao3 || join my taglist

a/n: i just finished both seasons of jjk and gege owes me money for therapy

— Yuji Itadori

Yuji wouldn’t need to be asked to peel an orange for you. He’d be making himself a snack and decides to bring you something too, ‘cause he knows you’ll sneak stuff off his plate anyway, so why not get you your own snack? He also peels your orange nicely, even picking off that icky white string you hate. Yuju brings it to you on a plate, and the gesture makes you smile as he snuggles next to you on the couch in the common area. 

“An orange?” you ask, looking up at him from your seat on the sofa. You’re covered up to your chin in a fluffy blanket, warding off the chill you felt due to Yuji’s absence. You swear the man’s like a walking furnace. 

“I was getting myself a snack, so I thought I’d get you something, too!” Yuji replies with a smile so bright that it rivals the sun. “I know you like oranges, and you haven’t had one in a while, so I thought you’d like one!” He sits next to you again, wriggling underneath the blanket, putting his cold feet on your bare legs, making you squeal. 

You take the plate from him after he stops torturing you with his maliciously cold toes. “Yu!” Yuji just kisses your cheek happily, tangling his legs with yours. Now that he’s had fun, Yuji’s careful not to get his cold feet on you.

— Megumi Fushiguro

Megumi would also peel you an orange, but you’d have to ask him first. You’ll be sitting in his room together, with you on his bed and him at his desk. Last time he was out in the city, Megumi bought a mini fridge for his dorm room so he doesn’t have to walk all the way to the kitchens when he’s hungry late at night. 

“Hey, Megs?” you gaze over at him, your head hanging off the edge of his bed, hair dangling upside down with you. 

He turns to meet your gaze, chin in his palm. “Yes, my love?” The afternoon sunlight filtering through the windows illuminates Megumi’s pretty features, beautifully highlighting his dark chocolate eyes. 

“Could you get me an orange from the mini fridge?”

He nods, silently leaning over and snagging a clementine out of the fridge. Pushing his homework out of the way and unfolding a napkin, Megumi fully peels it in just a few strips, tossing the rind in the trash can underneath his desk. With a soft smile, he wraps your orange in the napkin, placing it in your outstretched hand.

“Thank you, Megs,” you return his smile, moving to sit crisscross. You giddily eat your orange slices, the fruit tasting much better since your boyfriend prepared it. Megumi watches you eat, his chin returning to his palm like before. His oversized cream-colored sweater makes him look like a soft, snuggly teddy bear. “You should take a break, baby. You’ve been working for hours!” you exaggerate, making him giggle quietly. 

Megumi sighs with a smile before joining you on his bed, curling up beside you like a cat, resting his head on your shoulder. “I don’t think it’s been hours, love,” he chuckles, stealing an orange slice. 

“Hey!”

“Payment, babe.”

You roll your eyes at him but pretend to not see Megumi steal another slice a few moments later.

— Toge Inumaki

Toge also would need to be asked to peel an orange for you. He’s more than happy to do it, as one of his love languages is acts of service. He peels it while sitting on the couch beside you, watching whatever you had on the television. He may or may not take a few pieces for himself in the process. 

You lean against him, your head on his shoulder, watching Toge’s nimble fingers fix a snack for you. He separates the orange into individual slices, making it easier to eat as you watch TV. When he hands you the plate, you find a few slices missing, only to see Toge eating them.

“Toge! Those’re mine!” you exclaim, looking at him as if he had deliberately kicked one of your stuffed animals off the bed. 

He makes a face at you. “Fish flakes.”

“Oh, don’t fish flakes me, Toge,” you grumble, “No more eating my snacks!”

Toge makes another face at you, teasing you in that silent way he’s gotten good at. He snags another slice before you can move your plate away, a stupid grin spreading across his lips.

— Yuta Okkotsu

Yuta will peel your orange for you, but he’d be sassy about it the entire time. He’s happy to do it, but he’ll be teasing you while he does it. Standing by the counter, Yuta’s peeling your orange in small bits, tossing the skin on a paper towel. “You need me to peel your grapes, too, angel?” he teases, and you stick your tongue out at him. 

“You don’t peel grapes, dumbass.”

“You peel them for babies,” Yuta smirks.

You shoot him a warning glare like you’re daring him to continue that train of thought.

He giggles as he finishes sectioning the orange. “I’m not above chucking this at you, angel.”

“Shut up and give me my damn orange,” you snark at him, leaving him in the kitchen to make yourself comfy on the sectional in the common room. The second year’s dorm rooms have better amenities than the first-year dorms. 

He sits beside you, throwing a blanket across both of your laps. “You’re so demanding.” 

“And you’re annoying.”

“And you love it,” Yuta grins, kissing your cheek.

— Kokichi Muta

Kokichi would one hundred percent hands down peel an orange for you. He’s so incredibly grateful to be with you in person that he’d probably kill someone for you if you asked. So yeah, he’d peel you an orange. He’d probably peel you two oranges. Kokichi would try to peel it into a heart shape, but if it didn’t work the way he wanted, he’d just arrange the longest scraps into a vague heart shape the best he could.

Sitting at the breakfast counter, you watch Kokichi prepare a lovely breakfast for both of you. Bacon sizzles on the stove next to a pan of over-easy eggs. While he waits for the bacon to finish, Kokichi plates the eggs and toast before grabbing a bag of fruit from the fridge. He washes a handful of red and green grapes and sets them in a bowl, now quickly peeling two oranges, one for you and one for him. He places the fruit on your plate, careful to keep it from touching your eggs.

You didn’t expect Kokichi to prepare your fruit for you; no one besides your parents when you were little had ever done that before. “Oh, Chi, you didn’t have to do that for me,” you say, affection warming your chest.

He smiles at you sweetly, his scar stretching slightly. “I know. I wanted to.” Kokichi lifts the bacon pan off the stove, holding it over the counter while he splits it evenly on each plate. “I know you don’t like the feeling of the peel underneath your nails.”

Kokichi’s words fill you with so much love and other indescribable emotions that it makes you want to scream. You pull him to lean over the counter for a kiss. “What did I do to deserve you, Chi?”

He grins against your lips, kissing you back with all the passion bubbling inside his chest as well. “You deserve all this and more, you know. But we’ve gotta eat before our eggs get cold.”

[ghcstpyre]

PINKIE SWEAR.

*•.¸♡ ted "theodore" logan x f!reader

PART ONE. ted is still a virgin. you offer to change that.

contents: virgin!ted, afab!reader, a bit of fluff, angst if you squint, post-excellent adventure, pre-bogus journey, drug use (weed), fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), slight praise kink, unprotected p in v sex. MINORS BEGONE!

word count: 7.5k

a/n: after sitting in my drafts for 2 months, it's finally here! i'm so excited to get this one out of my brain and into writing and i really hope you enjoy reading it as much as i've enjoyed/am going to enjoy writing it! :)

taglist: @scarlettspectra

The thick smell of weed hung heavy in the air of Bill and Ted's apartment, its source pinched between your index and middle finger. You'd perched yourself atop the kitchen countertop in one of the few un-cluttered spaces, lazily toking from the joint in your hand.

It was evening in the middle of July and the colours of the sunset shone through the little window opposite you, bathing the messy kitchen in a gold and orange glow. You and Ted had forgotten to crack open a window before you lit up, but by the time either of you had realised you were both too baked to care and the damage had already been done.

Ted was sat on the sofa, his old acoustic guitar in his hands, fingers plucking away an unknown tune. Or maybe it was a tune you should know, but the fingers on the strings were too inexperienced for you to be able to tell what it was. His guitar playing skills had improved somewhat since the History Report fiasco, but not by a huge margin.

You thought that having a literal princess as a girlfriend to impress would help spur him on, and for a time it had done, but you'd noticed Ted becoming more withdrawn since his relationship with Elizabeth had ended. He 'd been pretty torn up over it at the time, but it had been over a month now since they ended things on friendly terms and you'd picked up on his change in demeanor.

It felt cruel, but you couldn't say you were too heartbroken for Ted when he broke the bad news to you. The thick, green worm of jealousy had wriggled its way under your skin and buried itself within your chest the moment Ted introduced Elizabeth to you as his girlfriend. It had been festering there ever since, making its nest within your heart.

Of course, it was your own fault for realising your feelings for Ted a little too late. Everyone always said 'better late than never', but you didn't think you could apply it to the crappy situation you found yourself in.

But now Ted was single again. It seemed the universe had decided to give you another chance.

Slowly, you tilted your head to the side, dragging your gaze away from the view of the sunset to look at the object of your affection. He'd gone from plucking the strings to strumming them listlessly, clearly a million miles away.

Your whole body thrummed with the buzz of your high, a faint ringing in your ears. You knew you were high as hell - it felt like your skull had been stuffed full of cotton wool and your eyes were heavy, sclera tinted red and lids droopy.

As heavy as your eyes felt, you managed to drag your gaze across Ted's form. His mop-like, dark brown hair had fallen into his face like it usually did, but the blazing glow of the sunset shining through the living-room window cast an orange halo around his head, making him look almost angelic. The usual chocolate hues of his eyes were glittering hazel as he sat with the guitar in his hands, basking in the warmth of the setting sun.

Your eyes followed the movements his large hands made on the strings and fretboard of the beat-up guitar. There were a few stickers littered around the front of its body, faded and torn with age, and scratch marks where someone had obviously tried to peel stickers off with little to no success.

For a brief moment, like you'd done so many times in the past, you imagined what it'd be like to have Ted's hands on your body, his fingertips rough and hardened from the strings of his guitars. That familiar and inevitable heat sparked in your core and you squeezed your thighs together against the slight pulsing between your legs.

"Hey," Your voice was mellow and slow as you tried to get Ted's attention. "You gonna help me smoke this or what?" You asked, holding the joint out in his direction.

Ted was promptly pulled away from his thoughts at the sound of your voice, hands ceasing their movements on the acoustic guitar as he looked over at you, and then at the smoke pinched between your fingers. A lopsided grin tugged at his lips. "Oh, yeah."

He set the guitar down next to him and pushed himself up from the dingy green sofa, the old springs within it groaning in protest at the sudden shift in weight. The soles of his white sneakers squeaked on the tiles of the kitchen as he eagerly stumbled his way from the living room, still feeling the effects of your last spliff.

His long fingers took the joint from your own and he settled opposite you, leaning up against the counter next to the sink, just in front of the fish bowl. He lifted it to his pink lips and took a nice, long drag, the cherry on the end burning as orange as the sunset. After a few beats of holding it in, Ted released the smoke in one long exhale, filling the space between you with a thick, pungent cloud.

The red basketball shorts Ted wore hung low on his hips, the waistband of his boxers poking out above them and concealing just below the bottom of his dark snail trail. You had to do your best to drag your eyes away from the mouth-watering view and instead focused your gaze on his chest. It wasn't any less tantalizing - his old San Dimas High School tank top was a little too small for him now and clung to his torso in all the right places, giving you a wonderful view of the slight muscle definition on his body and arms that he usually hid behind baggy t-shirts and jackets.

It wasn't until he'd said your name for a third time that you realised Ted was trying to get your attention. "You okay there dude?" He asked, genuine concern in his eyes, sclera just as bloodshot as yours and lids just as heavy.

You swallowed hard as you composed yourself, offering him a reassuring smile and hoping he hadn't caught you checking him out. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just really stoned."

Ted gave you an amused smirk in return, flashing you with a bright, toothy grin as he brought the joint to his lips once again. "Excellent."

You muffled a snort against your hand. The way Ted and Bill spoke was something you'd always found equal parts amusing and endearing. It was goofy, but somehow you felt it added to Ted's strange charm.

A soft padding could be heard below you as you lightly swung your legs back and forth, your heels knocking against the cupboard door as you watched Ted pull from the spliff. His features took on a somber edge and his eyes glazed over slightly, clearly miles away once again.

"Hey, Ted? Are you okay?" Your voice was soft, cautious almost, as you got his attention. "You've been kind of distant lately. I know breaking up with Elizabeth must've been tough but...do you wanna talk about it?"

He regarded you silently, pursing his lips a little with a slight furrow in his brow. Ted's gaze fell to his feet and he tapped the tips of his sneakers together. Eventually, he nodded. "...Yeah, " His voice was hoarse, almost like the word was a struggle for him to get out. "I think talking might do me some good."

It hurt seeing Ted so visibly deflated like this, but you were glad he was willing to finally open up about things - even if it did mean you had to listen to him pine over his ex. Still, more than anything you just wanted to be there for your friend, as a friend.

Ted offered you a grateful smile, the corners of his full lips quirking upwards beautifully. He reached out to pass you the joint and tingles ran up your arm as your fingers brushed his before taking the joint from him. He swallowed thickly, trying to figure out where and how to begin while he watched you fumble with the lighter, sparking the smoke up again and breathing new life into the cherry on the end.

"It's just...bogus, y'know?" He started, running a hand through his glossy hair. "Elizabeth was my first proper girlfriend - she, Bill, Joanna and I basically did everything together. Being with them was always a most excellent time."

You nodded along as he spoke, toking from the joint and turning your head away slightly to blow the smoke out, away from Ted's face. The green worm coiled around your heart squeezed.

"But now it's just the three of us and I'm a total third wheel all the time. Or - or it's the three of them, without me. Elizabeth said we're still friends but that she needs some time - which is perfectly okay, I mean, I'm not about to force things like a dickweed or something, but..." A long, frustrated sigh left his lips.

Ted already felt like a complete jackass for feeling this way about his friends, and even more so for complaining about them in the open like this. Friends weren't supposed to talk smack about each other behind their backs. He looked at you from beneath his long, dark lashes, almost like he was seeking your approval. He'd always had a nasty habit of second guessing himself - undoubtedly put there by his asshole of a father - but this was uncharted territory for him and he felt like a fish out of water.

Sensing his need for guidance, you tilted your head and offered him a sympathetic smile. "You miss your friends." You finished for him.

He nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders he didn't even realise was there beginning to ease. "Yeah, exactly." He looked up at you properly, meeting your gaze. "It's why I'm most grateful for you offering to hang out so often since Elizabeth and I split. It's been a totally lonely time, but seeing you has made it a bit easier."

Your chest tightened and your heart stuttered. Of course you'd wanted to be there for Ted as he dealt with his first breakup, but you couldn't deny that there were selfish motivations lurking beneath your good intentions. Guilt mingled with the fluttering of your heart.

"I'm always gonna be there for you during your hours of need, dude." You smiled.

Ted watched as you puffed from the joint again and blew out the thick cloud through your plush lips. The smoke rising from the glowing cherry swirled as it hung in the air, twisting around you lazily like a living thing, high off its own fumes and glowing in the light of the sunset. His chocolate brown gaze dropped to the KISS logo plastered over the chest of the t-shirt you wore - his t-shirt that you'd stolen some time ago now.

Elizabeth always told him it was strange that he let you wear his clothes sometimes, but he never thought anything of it. It was only now, however, that he noticed just how much he liked it when you did.

Is that weird? Ted thought to himself. Since when did she get so...bodacious?

He'd always thought you were pretty, but there was something different about you that he'd started to notice. Ted found his gaze lingering on you longer than it should, sometimes on places he definitely shouldn't be looking at. Especially now with the light of the sunset setting the colour of your hair ablaze, his t-shit hanging comfortably on your body, and your summer short-shorts clinging to your upper thighs.

His eyes dropped a little lower as the comfortable silence you found yourself in stretched on a bit longer. He noticed the way the flesh of your thighs spread out on the countertop, the bare skin below your shorts sticking to the marble in the summer heat. Ted swallowed thickly before looking you in the eye once again.

You noticed the way his eyes trailed over your body but decided not to comment, despite the way your heart hammered in your chest. "Plus, I guess this makes band practice difficult. That's gotta be frustrating."

"Yes! God, yeah, it is most vexing." Ted looked at you like you'd just put everything he'd been feeling over the last few months into words. If he'd known how liberating it would be to vent his frustrations, he would've come to you to talk sooner. You always had a knack for finding the words to describe how he felt. "How is Wyld Stallyns gonna be the most triumphant rock band in history if we can't even practice?"

A giggle slipped past your lips, glad that he seemed to have perked up a little. Wyld Stallyns were terrible, but you'd supported them unconditionally no matter how bad they sounded. "Just give it more time, Ted. I promise you she'll come round and you guys will be able to practice and hang out again just like you used to. You're doing really well, just have a little more patience."

The idea of Elizabeth and Ted spending time together again didn't exactly fill you with glee, but you doubted they'd get back together - at least, not immediately. You hoped.

His eyes dropped to your thighs again as you passed the joint back to him, the tip of his tongue poking out to wet his lips. "There's...kinda something else that's been bugging me, but I don't know if I should..." Ted trailed off, a light pink hue rising to his cheeks.

"Go on," You urged, nodding at him to continue. If there was more weighing on him, you wanted to coax it out of him.

He avoided your gaze, eyes sliding off to the right. "Okay...y'know how Bill and I explained that the princesses are...chaste?" You nodded and hummed in understanding. "Well, it took me eighteen years to finally get a girlfriend. Now I'm twenty-three, single and there are things that most guys have done by now that I still haven't experienced." The embarrassment was evident on his face; he couldn't meet your gaze at all.

You simply blinked at him, processing his words. Then, the penny dropped. "You're a virgin?" Your mouth was blurting the words before you could stop them.

Ted's cheeks flushed crimson and he let out a frustrated groan. Although he completely respected Elizabeth's boundaries and was more than happy to have waited until marriage to finally experience the intimacy he craved, he couldn't deny that it had been a ball-ache - metaphorically and in some cases, physically. Bill had cracked a joke about their right hands being their second girlfriends; at the time Ted had found it funny, but now it just depressed and frustrated the hell out of him.

"No-!" He raised his voice slightly in defense, almost offended by the 'V' word. He shook his head. "-I mean yes? I mean-" The hand that wasn't holding the spliff reached up to drag his palm over his face as he visibly deflated. "It just sucks, dude. I feel super lame." He let out another long sigh, defeated.

Ted brought the joint to his lips, taking one final, long drag before stubbing it out in one of the nearby dirty mugs in the sink. He looked back down at his shoes again, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his shorts.

"Teddy, hey," The nickname caught his attention, but he didn't have the courage to meet your gaze just yet. You unstuck your thighs from the kitchen counter and hopped down, stepping forward to close the distance between the two of you. When he still refused to acknowledge you, you brought your hands up to rest on the sides of his exposed biceps and squeezed gently. "Teddy, look at me."

He hesitated for a moment before lifting his head to look at you and your sweet smile.

"You're not lame. Like, at all." You reassured him, your thumbs rubbing slow, comforting circles on his skin. "In fact, I think it's totally chivalrous of you to have waited for Elizabeth."

Ted tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy. "...You think so?"

Cute. You thought.

"Of course!" You smiled brightly at him, having to tilt your head up to look him in the eye. "Not many guys would do that. Most would just get bored and dump their girlfriend after a few weeks so they could go and get some."

His face soured at the notion. "Heinous."

You giggled and his expression immediately brightened as the sweet sound filled the kitchen, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he dipped his head down and chuckled. That was one thing he always liked about you - your laugh. Especially when he was the reason for it.

You retracted your hands from his arms and he mourned the loss of contact, his skin tingling where your thumbs had been circling.

"Besides, there's nothing bad about it. Everyone experiences things at different paces. Like, you smoked weed before I did." Your words had a small grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Do what you wanna do at your own pace and don't care about what anyone else thinks. Just because you haven't had sex yet doesn't make you any less of a catch."

He lifted his head to look at you again. "Thanks, babe. I really do appreciate it."

The bright expression on his face was the sign you needed to know you'd made him feel better, at least for the time being. The two of you stood there for a few moments, dissolving into stoned giggling. Ted's cheeks were flushed and his eyes shimmered with mirth, the sight being enough to make you swoon internally.

With the orange glow behind him, Ted looked like a dream. A dream you wanted to be a part of.

Hold on a moment. Did Ted call you babe?

An idea popped into your baked mind, head still hazy from the joint you'd just smoked. You weren't really sure if it was a good idea, but you figured if it all blew up in your face you could just blame it on the weed. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin the friendship you had with Ted, especially since his others were currently rocky, but you were high and you wanted him.

"Hey..." You started, your heartbeat picking up the pace. "...If you're still worried about that kind of stuff, I could help out."

Ted's giggles died down and he cocked his head at you in confusion once again. "Huh? What d'you mean?"

Of course he had to pick now to be dense. "Well, y'know..." You tilted you head forward and looked up at him from beneath your lashes, hoping he'd get the message.

His brows raised in recognition and he formed an 'o' with his lips before breaking out into a grin. "Ooohh, you wanna be my wingman?"

You scrunched your face up. "What? No."

"Then whaddya mean?"

"You know what I mean!"

"Babe, I have no idea what you're saying."

"Do you wanna have sex with me?"

The smoke still swirling between you seemed to freeze in place, your words hanging heavy between the two of you. You could feel how hot your cheeks were and you could hear your pulse thumping in your ears, but you were determined to hold his startled gaze.

Ted simply blinked at you, completely dumbstruck, the gears in his head whirring as he tried to process what you'd just said. He was struggling to comprehend if he had actually heard you correctly or not.

You worried your bottom lip between your teeth, chewing on the soft flesh nervously and your eyes were trained on his every movement like a hawk. His silence didn't comfort you and although it only lasted for a few moments, to you it felt like an age before he finally responded.

"I...uh...huh?"

Anxiety simmered in your stomach, threatening to bubble over into frustration. You were already embarrassed enough as is and Ted's utter confusion didn't help your hammering heart.

You breathed in slowly, trying to calm your nerves. "Do you wanna hook up?" A small, shy smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "With me?"

Ted's heart thumped rapidly beneath his tank top and your eyes followed his Adam's apple as it bobbed up and down. His hands trembled slightly within his pockets - equal parts nerves and desire. Ted was usually one to articulate himself using large, goofy hand gestures, but right now he was glad his hands were tucked away so you couldn't see how much his hands shook.

"Are you - are you serious?" He asked, his deep voice cracking adorably.

A few strands of hair fell into your face as you nodded, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt. "Y-Yeah. I mean, we're both high, we're friends-" You swallowed thickly and wet your lips with the tip of your tongue. Ted's eyes followed the movement and you took a small step forward, "-You're cute...plus, it'll mean you'll have one less thing to worry about, right?"

His eyes flicked up to your eyes, down to your lips, then back to meet your gaze again. It didn't go unnoticed.

One of Ted's hands retracted from his pocket to reach out and gently brush away those fallen strands of hair from your face, tucking them behind your ear. You were sure then, if it could've done, your heart would've leapt right out of your chest and into his hand. Your breath hitched and your smile turned from shy to hopeful.

"I...yeah, I guess that makes sense." Heat rose to Ted's cheeks and his smile matched your own before faltering slightly. "But, won't it make things, like, totally weird between us?"

You shook your head. "Nah. I promise we'll still be friends afterwards." Lifting a hand, you wiggled your pinkie finger in front of him. "Pinkie Swear."

With a small, amused huff, Ted linked his little finger with yours and held it for a few beats before pulling you towards him using your pinkie. The hand that had remained inside his pocket moved to rest on the curve of your hip, his thumb rubbing your soft skin over the material of your top. Your own free hand came to tentatively rest on his chest.

Now that your hips were almost flush against his, and thanks to his loose-fitting shorts, you could feel his length pressed against your thigh. He was already a bit hard.

"Is that a yes?" Your voice was breathless as you asked, not expecting the sudden surge in confidence after his initial confusion and bashfulness.

Ted's voice was low and husky when he responded, his tone immediately causing heat to pool between your legs. He leaned in, plush pink lips only an inch away from yours.

"Hell yes."

Finally, Ted's lips captured yours in a kiss that, for you at least, felt like a long time coming. The nervous simmering in your tummy exploded in the form of happy fireworks as his lips moved slow and tender over your own, giddiness and lust threatening to take you over.

This was Ted's first time so you were determined to keep your own desires in check - to go at his pace.

His pinkie finger released yours in favour of snaking his hand around your neck to cradle the back of your head as he towered over you, lips still connected to yours. Your own hand lingered in place for a second before joining the other on his broad chest, savoring the feeling of his excited heartbeat against your palms.

You pulled away from each other for a moment to catch your breath. Ted's pupils were blown wide with desire, his deep brown eyes looking like inky black pools. Combined with the crimson hue blooming across his cheeks, your best friend looked absolutely delicious.

Neither you nor Ted could believe this was actually happening.

"Whoa..." A big, toothy grin spread across his freshly kissed lips.

You didn't even get a chance to respond before Ted's mouth descended upon yours again, this time with a little more urgency. The hand that gripped your hip circled around your waist to hold you tightly against him while his other threaded his fingers through your hair. You practically melted into him, raising onto the balls of your feet to wrap your arms around his neck and push him back against the counter behind him.

The ache between your legs urged you on. You traced your tongue along Ted's bottom lip, desperate for more. He was more than happy to oblige, parting his lips for you and letting out a soft groan as your tongue slid against his.

You were sure that that little sound was enough to send you to heaven. Or at the very least, would be living in your head rent free for the next...well, forever.

The inside of your mouth tasted like weed, smoke and the chocolate you'd snacked on earlier when the munchies hit, and Ted briefly wondered if there was any part of you in that moment that he didn't find completely intoxicating. Every kiss, every touch, every swipe of your tongue had his cock throbbing inside his shorts, straining against the fabric and aching for attention.

Without even realising it, Ted began grinding his rigid length against your thigh, pulling a little gasp from your lips. The friction paired with your tongue in his mouth was almost enough to make his toes curl in his sneakers.

Ted could count on one hand the number of girls he'd kissed, but this was by far the best kiss he'd ever had.

Why hadn't he done this with you sooner?

Sensing his need, you slid the palms of your hands down his torso to the waistband of his boxers. His breath hitched in his throat and his dick twitched with anticipation as you smiled against his plush lips, your fingers dipping just below the elastic to toy with the waistband.

"Can I touch you?" You breathed against his mouth, desperate to feel the size of him in your hands, in your mouth, and buried deep inside you.

Ted's eyes fluttered open and he nodded, letting out a shaky breath. "Y-Yeah."

In one swift motion you pushed down his boxers and shorts, letting them pool around his ankles as you sunk down to your knees. His cock sprung free, long with a thick vein running up the underside and a lovely pink head, a bead of precum already forming at the tip.

He was absolutely gorgeous. If you weren't wet before, you were surely soaking through your panties by now.

You reached your hands up to run your fingers down his flat stomach, trailing them over his cute snail trail and through the dark thatch of curls sitting above where you wanted to be most. He watched you the whole time through heavily-lidded eyes, his bottom lip caught between his pearly white teeth.

The sight of you on your knees before him was the hottest thing he'd ever seen and you hadn't even touched him yet.

Ted's whole body jolted as you wrapped a hand around his shaft, your other hand resting on his thigh. You gave his cock a few slow, long strokes, looking up and drinking in the sight of him as he gripped onto the edge of the kitchen counter and gazed down at the most excellent view of you with his dick in your hand.

The whimpers that escaped him were all the encouragement you needed. Without warning you leaned in to lick a hot, wet stripe up the underside of his shaft and press a kiss to his wet tip. Ted practically keeled over, inhaling sharply.

"You okay?" You asked, concern swimming with the lust in your eyes as you pulled back a little.

Ted nodded, the corners of his lips quirking upwards in a small, sheepish smile. "Y-Yeah, I'm good. Just wasn't, uh, expecting that."

You squeezed his thighs affectionately. "Want me to carry on?"

"God yes."

Having the go-ahead, you leaned in again and took the head of his throbbing cock into your mouth.

"Oh fuck."

Ted managed to release the vice grip he had on the countertop to thread his fingers through the hair on the top of your pretty head as you began bobbing your head, the other hand still gripping onto the counter for dear life. You took a little more of him into your mouth with each motion, swirling your tongue around the swollen head when you pulled back.

"Fuck babe, that feels so good."

The salty taste of his precum on your tongue sent bolts of heat straight to your core, now hyper aware of the aching need between your legs. Unable to handle it anymore, your spread your thighs apart and slid one of your hands into your shorts to rub slow circles on your clit through the damp fabric of your panties.

It was taking all of Ted's willpower and restraint to not buck his hips forward into the warm, wet heat of your mouth. The sight of you touching yourself as you sucked his dick was almost too much for him to handle and he had to clap the hand that white-knuckled the counter over his mouth to muffle the loud moan that slipped out.

His moan was like music to your ears. You needed to hear more. Steeling yourself, you pulled your wet lips off his cock with a pop, inhaled deeply, and then took his entire length down your throat. You squeezed your eyes shut as the coarse curls of his dark pubes tickled your nose and you moaned around his girth as your fingers worked on your sensitive bud.

"Oh shit," Ted practically yelled, throwing his head back and letting out a long, low groan of pleasure. His fingers tightened in your hair and his toes curled in his shoes as he desperately fought against the urge to cum down your throat there and then.

He pulled on your hair, gentle enough to not hurt you, but hard enough to get you to drag your mouth from his dick.

"Fuck babe - I almost came." Ted panted, completely breathless as you gazed up at him, tears pricking at the corners of your glassy eyes and your lips were red, swollen and shiny with spit.

He unthreaded his fingers from your hair to help you up to your feet and immediately pull you in for another kiss, each press of his lips harder and hungrier than the last. His hands were quick to find your hips and you gasped against his mouth as he squeezed them tight and kicked his boxers and shorts from around his ankles.

Ted began pushing you backwards until your lower back hit the edge of the counter. His irises were completely engulfed by his inky black pupils and his large hands slid up underneath your t-shirt, savouring the feeling of your soft skin beneath his palms as they travelled up your waist to your ribs.

His burning desire was swallowing him whole and he was acting purely on impulse. Ted had been worried he'd fumble this with his lack of experience, but judging by the way you responded to his advances and touches, it seemed that just letting go was working in his favour.

Before you could say anything Ted's lips were on yours again, his kisses absolutely feverous and starting to make your head spin. Just as you pulled away to catch your breath, his hands cupped your breasts and squeezed gently. Your head lolled back and you pushed your chest forward into the sensation, seeking more attention. Ted was more than happy to oblige, kneading the soft flesh of your tits beneath your top with his large hands.

You twitched and let out a needy whine when one of Ted's thumbs grazed over your nipple, his mouth swallowing that sweet sound. He pulled his lips away from yours to repeat the motion again, this time circling both his thumbs over your hard, sensitive nubs. Wonder swam in his jet black eyes as he watched you arch your back into his touch and gasp, unconsciously canting your hips into his and gripping onto his broad shoulders.

Your fantasies could never have prepared you for the real thing. The pads of his fingertips were hard and rough from the hours upon hours he'd spent almost every day pouring over his beloved Gibson, and they felt heavenly on your soft skin as they trailed down from your breasts to your hips once again.

"Can I...?"

Ted's voice was hoarse as he mumbled against your lips, his fingers toying with the button of your denim shorts as he pulled back slightly to meet your heavy gaze. He knew he'd need guidance for what came next and he prayed to the gods of music (Oh great god of metal, Mr Osbourne, dude...please don't let me fuck this up!) that you would be willing to help him out without too much judgement.

If you were to laugh at him, he was sure he'd shrivel up and die on the spot.

You blinked up at him and smiled, giving him the go-ahead with a confident nod. Despite the way his hands trembled, Ted popped open the button on your shorts and shimmied them down over your hips and thighs, taking your panties with them.

Rather than letting you step out of the material, Ted lifted you up to place you back in the space on the kitchen counter you'd been sat in before. The bright, toothy grin on your face told him that that was definitely the right move. He had a feeling that all those evenings spent watching raunchy rom-coms with Bill, Joanna and Elizabeth were going to come in handy.

Ted paused, his shoulders tensing. Wait, no. He shouldn't be thinking about Elizabeth right now.

He was promptly pulled from his thoughts by your legs hooking around his hips and pulling him into the space between your parted thighs, your hands finding their way to his broad shoulders once again.

"You okay?" You asked, sensing his hesitation.

It was incredibly difficult to ignore the press of his erection against your inner thigh, but you wanted to make sure he was still okay with what was happening between you before you went any further.

He nodded, albeit stiffly, and the tips of his ears burned hot. "Y-Yeah, just...I, uh, might need some help with this part."

The sweet smile that you gave him had his heart doing flips within his ribcage. "That's cool," You said, your fingers twirling in the incredibly soft, dark hair at the base of his skull as your voice took on a lighter tone. "I happen to be intimately familiar with myself so I'm really gonna be the best teacher you'll get right now."

Your words drew an amused huff from Ted and the tension in his shoulders eased off. "Awesome. So, um, how do you like to be touched?"

It was such an innocent question but it made your pussy throb something fierce.

You took one of his hands into your own and brought his thumb to your lips. Ted's eyes zeroed in on your mouth and he inhaled sharply as you sucked on it. You coated the appendage with spit before guiding it down to your clit, his head dipping as he followed your movements.

"Here," You shuddered as his callused pad pressed against your little bundle of nerves. "Start with slow circles."

Ted did as he was told and began moving his thumb in slow, steady circles over your clit, mesmerized by the sight and sensation of your sensitive flesh beneath his touch. The soft sighs of satisfaction coming from you spurred him on and he picked up the pace. His other hand moved back underneath your top to gently pinch your nipple.

You gasped and spread your legs further, scooting to the edge of the counter and seeking more of that delicious friction.

"Want your fingers in me, Ted."

Uncertainty and lust swam in his eyes as they snapped back to yours, his cheeks flushed a wonderful shade of pink.

"Don't worry," You comforted. "I'll guide you."

Doing his best to steady the tremble in his hand, Ted dragged his middle finger over your slick folds to gently rub at your entrance. The corners of his plush lips quirked upwards - you were so wet. Not just wet, you were soaked.

"Whoa, babe. You're totally dripping wet right now." Ted grinned, flashing you with a bright, toothy smile filled with pride.

Giddiness bubbled in your chest, delight rushing throughout your body and you curled your toes. You matched his grin. "Duh; my hot best friend is about to fuck me. Of course I'm wet."

He blinked at you owlishly and his cock twitched against your inner thigh. "...You think I'm hot?"

You hesitated before nodding. "I...have done for a while-"

Your confession was cut off by a gasp as Ted slid his finger inside you without warning. The walls of your pussy instinctively squeezed his long digit as he slowly pumped it in and out of you experimentally, his eyes on your face the whole time to check for any signs of discomfort.

"That's it," You breathed. "Now add another finger."

Ted savoured your praise did as he was told, pulling his hand back to push both his middle and ring finger into you. You moaned softly this time and lifted your knees to give him better access and a better angle, the slight stretch filling you will a little more satisfaction.

You'd gotten so used to the feeling of your own touch you'd almost forgotten what it felt like with someone else. God, you missed this.

"Ah!" Pleasure shot through your nerves when his long digits brushed against that sweet spot deep inside you. "There, Teddy - curl your fingers right there."

He pushed his fingers into you to the knuckles and curled them as you said, his calloused fingertips rubbing against your g-spot and pulling more delightful sounds from your lips as he fingered you. Ted could feel the way your walls clenched around his digits and the wet sounds of your soaking cunt taking his fingers so easily had him so hard it almost hurt.

Judging by your reactions he was pretty damn sure he was making you feel good, but he wanted to hear you say it - no, he needed you to tell him.

"Is that good?"

The doe-eyed look on his face paired with his fingers working you like magic was enough to make you whimper. He may not have been able to play the guitar that well, but he was playing your pussy well enough to have you singing.

"Y-Yes," You nodded as your thighs began to tremble. "Feels so fuckin' good, Teddy."

Ted couldn't hold on any longer. Retracting his slick digits from you, he dipped down to press a quick, searing kiss to your lips and then rest his forehead against yours.

"Babe, I gotta fuck you now."

"Please," You panted, hooking your legs around his hips once more as he reached down to line himself up with your entrance.

Ted looked into your eyes as if waiting for permission to go past the point of no return. You nodded in confirmation, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as your whole body buzzed with anticipation.

Slowly, Ted pushed his throbbing length inside you, inching in bit by bit as the wet walls of your pussy accommodated his size. Your fingernails left little crescent moon marks on his smooth skin as you gripped onto his broad shoulders, closing your eyes and doing your best to relax as he inched further in.

The low, loud grown from Ted made the sensation of his cock stretching you out all the sweeter. Your hot breaths mingled as Ted bottomed out, his hips flush against the soft skin of your inner thighs and his hands moved to rest on your hips.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, holding each other and unmoving. You expected Ted to begin thrusting not long after pushing all the way in, but he was as still as a statue for long enough that it had you concerned.

"Teddy?" You opened your eyes to look at him. "You good?"

There was clear concentration on his flushed face, mixed with something akin to frustration. His dark brows were furrowed with a deep crease etched between them and his ears burned hot with embarrassment.

"Ted? Are-"

"I'll bust if I move." He blurted, voice cracking.

You had to bite back against a laugh, thoroughly amused by his choice of words. How was it possible for Ted to still be adorable during a moment like this?

Ted inhaled deeply, trying to steady the rapid thumping of his heart. "Just - just gimme a sec."

It was incredibly hard to not think about the fact that he was balls deep inside you. The thought alone was enough to have Ted teetering on the edge. Your pussy was warm and wet and tight and unlike anything he'd felt around his dick before. Quite frankly he was amazed he'd even lasted this long.

After what felt like an age, Ted let out a shuddering breath and pulled his hips back slowly before pushing into you again. You sighed, relief and pleasure flowing through your veins as he finally gave you that much needed friction your body craved so desperately.

His large hands gripped your hips tight as he thrusted in and out of you, keeping the pace slow and steady - mostly for his own sake - while his confidence gradually increased with each little pleasured sound that fell from your lips.

"Fuuuuck Ted, that's it," You praised him as he picked up the pace, the two of you becoming lost in your combined pleasure. "That's it, you're fucking me so good - Ah!"

Ted's hips suddenly snapped forwards, slamming the full length of his cock into you and filling your cunt to the brim. Your wet walls throbbed around him as the head hit that wonderful little spot inside you and your fingers gripped at the soft hair on the back of his head.

"Shit, sorry-"

Your mouth swallowed his apology in a hot, open mouthed kiss. Ted was quick to reciprocate, groaning as you nipped and sucked on his bottom lip.

"Do that again."

That was all he needed to hear. The lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin bounced off the kitchen walls as Ted pumped his dick in and out of you, the sensitive skin glistening with your slick arousal. He did his best to angle his thrusts so that he was hitting that spot that had you clawing at his back and moaning his name, desperately wanting to make you feel good as he chased his own release.

"God babe - ngh - pussy's so fuckin' tight," One of his hands relinquished the vice grip it had on your hip to slide back under your t-shirt and grab your breast and squeeze. "Feels too good, fuckin' excellent, m'gonna - mmnh - gonna cum soon."

You reached a hand down between your spread legs to rub your swollen clit, aching for attention as that familiar heat began to coil in your abdomen, tighter and tighter as you neared your peak.

"Me too Ted, m'so close - so fucking close-"

The coil inside you snapped.

"Teddy!"

Your body shook and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your orgasm hit you, pleasure coursing through your veins in heavy waves. Ted's thrusts became sloppy while he fucked you through your climax, the feeling of your pussy clenching around him as you came on his cock being too much for him to handle.

"Shit babe, gonna cum-"

With a low, loud groan, Ted pulled out of you and gripped his throbbing length. After a few quick pumps of his fist, he spilled his cum over your skin, coating the soft swell of your lower tummy and the hem of your top in pearly white ropes.

The two of you stayed silent as you caught your breath, chests heaving. You let your legs drop and Ted placed his large hands on your thighs, steadying himself as his own legs threatened to give out from under him as he came down from his high.

Nervous bubbles began to simmer in your stomach as you watched Ted through lidded eyes. How would Ted feel about you now? Would this change things between you? And most importantly: Would he regret it?

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, a small smile tugged at the corners of Ted's kiss-swollen lips.

"Now that," He met your gaze. "was most excellent."

A bright smile broke out across your face and your heart did flips, giddiness shooting right down to the tips of your toes. "Agreed. You feel a bit better now?"

You watched Ted closely as he took a step back and bent down to shimmy his boxers and basketball shorts back up his long legs, before retrieving your own shorts and panties from the kitchen tiles and holding them out to you with a smile that shone with earnestness.

"Definitely."

[littlefaefeather]

Black Butler manga foods/drinks

I'm sure I missed some things, but it was all things that weren't really named or specified, or I couldn't tell with certainty what they were. @sebastian-ciel-mutual-bullying this is for you! feel free to take and use as you need o7 Book 1 breakfast: poached salmon and mint salad with toast, scones, and pain de campagne on the sides, ceylon tea horribly salty lemonade dinner: Japanese green tea, gyuutatakidon, Italian red wine, apricot and green tea mille-feuille dessert: orchard fruit cake with pears, plums, and blackberries dessert: deep-dish apple raisin pie milk

Book 2 assam tea afternoon tea: keemun and summer pudding of currants and other berries lunch: stuffed cabbage and minted potato salad chocolate earl grey afternoon tea: cornmeal cake of pears and blackberries salty rosehip herbal tea

Book 3 hot milk with honey or brandy peeled apple assam tea with milk oranges with shalimar tea steak and kidney pie and salmon sandwiches messy birthday cake and donburi strawberry-decorated birthday cake

Book 4 fish chai with ginger breakfast: shrimp curry and French toast with ginger mackerel with gooseberry sauce and cottage pie

Book 5 British-style Bengali chicken curry chicken curry afternoon snack: gateau au chocolat beef curry blue lobster with seven curries curry bun assam tea white darjeeling tea champagne sushi

Book 6 Christmas pudding cookies shaped like bones fish and chips, meat pies, bread

Book 7 rice porridge dinner: milk risotto with a three-mushroom medley, a pot-au-feu of pork and wine, and a warm apple compote with yogurt sauce

Book 8 oranges afternoon tea: chocolate macarons with fruits and three-berry shortcake

Book 9 custard cream puffs red wine white wine brunch: herring pie and spinach quiche dinner: curry, and chopped vegetables for an appetizer

Book 10 dinner: soybean hamburg steaks

Book 11 elevenses: darjeeling tea and petits fours tonkatsu, shougayaki, tonjiru, tonshabu, yakiton

Book 12 cake with strawberries on top

Book 13 spiny lobster saute, roast turkey, sticky toffee pudding, fairy cakes (cupcakes) warm milk with honey

Book 14 watered-down darjeeling tea darjeeling tea dinner: roast duck and gateau chocolat

Book 15 golden syrup sponge pudding tea cakes lemon myrtle souffle glace with milk tea

Book 16 lunch: beef mince pie

Book 17 dessert: strawberries, cream, and meringue (Eton mess) with a side of iced summer pudding

Book 18 chicken pie coffee and walnut cake

Book 19 ravioli (maultaschen) and wurst soup, stewed pork with herbs and spices (eisbein), and rote grutze (sour berries boiled and chilled to jelly, served with cream) evening snack: caramel macarons, coffee cream eclairs, dark chocolate florentines. black tea ceylon tea

Book 22 earl grey tea with orange almond cake and berry tarts

Book 23 smoked salmon sandesh (milk sweets)

Book 24 soft licorice candy apples

Book 25 berry-filled pudding fish and chips and steak and ale pie gulab jamun (fried balls of dough drenched in syrup)

Book 29 kidney pie, fish and chips, and ale wild-hare pie tapioca steak

Book 30 nilgiri tea breakfast: pea soup, meatballs, croissants, boiled egg, orange jelly chicken and steamed vegetable salad, oxtail stew, pain de campagne with butter oolong tea

Book 31 candy cigarettes

[maithefluffychicken]

Taste of love

"You must admit, he's charismatic," Robin says, a sly grin curling her lips.

"Yeah, he's the new favorite, fucking great," Steve laments, jealously evident in his tone.

Truth is, Steve can admit that Eddie is charismatic, and good at his job, and he's stupidly hot doing said job. It’s not fair, talented and good looking, with bright doe eyes as dark as the chocolate he likes to use in most of his creations?

Steve hates him. He hates the way he can’t stop staring at him when Eddie is in, well, in full Eddie mode like he is right now.

He’s recording himself, the pretentious little shit, with an improvised but somehow extremely professional set up, a whole fucking tripod for his nextgen smartphone as a camera. He has the two long counters for himself, it’s his fucking stage and he’s the rockstar: he looks like one, with the long hair tied up in a messy bun that Steve wants to undo, and all those tattoos covering his arms. He’s not even wearing a fucking chef’s jacket, no. The cocky bastard is wearing a tight black t-shirt, Steve can see the ripple of his muscles when he moves. Again, stupidly hot.

He claims to not need help, and yet, Henderson - pastry chef junior and a traitor - is cheerfully helping him to set everything out and clean the counters between scenes.

On the street, bystanders stop to look through the store window, recording the mess Eddie is doing with their own personal phones, and fucking enjoying the show that is Eddie Munson creating a masterpiece of a cake.

“I still don’t see how this is going to help us,” Steve sighs, leaning against the doorframe of his own kitchen, staring - ogling - at Eddie, watching him peeling limes, oranges and grapefruits for this new dessert he’s making.

“He’ll post it on instagram and whatnot, get the people interested in us,” Robin explains to him, as patiently and lovingly as ever.

“The whole process?” Steve asks, now a bit concerned. “Everyone will know the recipe, and then who’ll come to buy?”

Steve and Robin had worked hard and spent all their money in this little cake shop, which it is, in fact, a fucking monster of a pâtisserie and the fanciest café. This was their dream, and it still is their dream. And it’s also a fucking risk if it fails, so excuse him if he doesn’t want everyone to know how to recreate their goods.

“No, no, dingus, just the pretty parts, like a montage, like a film.”

“Good lord, is this one of those Wes Anderson’s vibes or whatever?” Steve says, and his face must be doing something funny because Robin laughs openly now.

“God, no, but that would be awesome, you should tell him to do that!” Robin says, and then adds. “Or you should do it yourself, join Eddie, make us famous and rich!”

Steve frowns and grunts. To be honest, he should be working too, there’s another completely functional kitchen where he could be baking his own things. But for some reason, watching Eddie is mesmerizing, and Steve is not sure he’ll be able to stop looking and leave to be alone in the other kitchen.

So he stays, and follows Eddie to the oven when the puff pastry is ready to be baked. And then he stays a bit longer to witness the filling. And then- Well, he stays until Eddie finishes with the decoration.

Eddie doesn’t talk to the camera, not once, he just works, he doesn’t seem to notice Steve and Robin at all.

When the stupidly good looking dessert, painted in lime green, is done, Eddie does the second most stupid thing ever. He cuts it evenly and walks out to the street to share it with his audience, Dustin follows him, recording the whole thing. Free samples of a dessert that is, well, it’s expensive as fuck. Eddie smiles and comes back to the kitchen, two spare portions, one for Steve and the other for Robin.

“Come on, chef,” he grins at Steve, far too mischievously for Steve’s liking. “I know you want a taste of this.”

The words sound sinful to Steve’s ears, the way Eddie says it. Fuck, he even swayed his hips while he was speaking! Steve’s mouth goes dry, trying to think of a retort and win whatever battle they’re having. But Robin interrupts them with a groan, her mouth full of the lime tart Eddie saved for them.

“Oh my god,” she says before even swallowing. “Phteef, eat it. Now”

Steve sighs, his gaze locks with Eddie’s when he reaches for his portion, the last on the silver tray Eddie is holding patiently. It’s not solid at all, silky and cold at the touch, and the first thing Steve notices is the aroma. Citrics and burnt sugar, fresh and intense. Steve takes it to his mouth and bites, the lemon praliné breaks easily under the pressure and it melts on his tongue among the softest mousse Steve has ever tasted. The sugar is there but it doesn’t ruin the citrus flavor, the real hero. Grapefruit and orange jam and the soft biscuit join them, a counterpart for the ethereal texture of the mousse.

Steve tries to hold back the involuntary moan that escapes his mouth, but it’s too late. Eddie is grinning wolfishly at him. Steve blushes, fiercely. He’s a thirty year old man, the chef of his own pâtissery, he shouldn’t be moaning and blushing like this, but fuck, the lime tart is absurdly good and he knows he’s going to eat the whole portion. What a fucking shame.

“And?” Eddie asks, nervously buzzing in front of them both, unashamedly fishing for praise he doesn’t need at all. Cocky bastard, again. “Is it good, right? Do you like it, chef?”

Steve swallows, the taste and scents lingering on his tongue and palate. Fucking delicious.

“Yeah, it’s ok,” Steve shrugs, as if he just didn’t fucking moan because of the best lime tart he has ever tasted.

“Come on, Steve,” Robin nudges him.

“Chef, please,” Eddie begs and it does something to Steve, something he can’t - and doesn’t want to - name yet. “Please, I need to know, have I passed my trial month?”

Steve really really wants to say no, that Eddie has an attitude and a temper that Steve doubts is good for the business. Eddie, who is giving free samples to people on the street. Eddie who decided to record himself in Steve’s kitchen to post it on social media. Eddie, who doesn’t wear proper clothes for his kitchen.

Steve wants to bid him farewell.

But the lime praliné is slowly melting with the warmth of his fingers, green painting his fingertips, the smooth mousse giving away, Steve wants to finish his portion, and as the greedy son of a bitch he is, Steve wants more of this even more than he wants Eddie out of his kitchen.

Steve wants to tell Eddie to fuck off, but he’s curious about what else he can to do. A month is not enough to know the enigma that is chef Edward Munson.

“Ok, ok, you’re hired, chef,” Steve says, and Eddie punches the air in victory. Steve holds back a smile. “Six months, and then we’ll see, ok?”

“Fuck, yes! I mean,” Eddie clears his throat, he’s the one blushing now. “Yes, chef. Thank you, chef.”

Six months.

-

Steve is used to being alone in the morning, opening up in the early hours and enjoying the bakery’s calm quietness, the buzzing sound of the fridges and ovens his only company while he works., He spends the time trying out old and new recipes, practicing techniques to apply in future desserts.

That was, of course, before Eddie.

It’s Robin’s fault, anyway, she convinced Steve to give this new, eccentric pastry chef a chance to work in their bakery. It’s true that they both needed help, they both needed a right hand man to keep the bakery and the staff going while they designed new recipes. Dustin Henderson is a talented kid, controlling the dough like a pro, but he’s still learning - under Steve and Robin’s supervision, of course -, and Erica Sinclair is even younger than Dustin, but man, that girl knows how to decorate a wedding cake.

The other staff they hired are just as good. The kitchen is alive and buzzing with energy, Steve loves it. He’s grateful that he gets to have this; his own place, with people he loves.

Stobin Pastry and Cakes started as a humble bakery when Keith closed Family Video, where they used to work as teens. They took all their savings and bought the place, and transformed it into what it is today.

The kids Steve babysat for years applied to work with them. Will left to study art, and Mike followed him blindly, in love. Lucas and Max decided to take a gap year abroad, sending them postcards regularly and texting Steve and Robin about the recipes they find on their journey.

Dustin and Erica decided to stick around and learn from Steve and Robin, now Stobin’s youngest chefs, with the honorary title of Junior Pastry Chef for the both of them.

So, Steve loved to be the first one in, turning on the ovens and getting the bakery ready for the day, while Robin took Dustin to the market at dawn, picking out new products of the season and sending Steve silly pics while doing it. Erica arrived in time to meet the providers, standing by Steve’s side and supervising that everything was in perfect conditions.

Steve could have never imagined that he’d get to work with his family, and he loves it. He once feared he’d end up working for his father, but this? As exhausting and sometimes stressful as it is, this is Steve’s dream.

But of course, now they have Eddie. Eddie, overqualified to be anything less than a pastry chef, with his tattoos and long hair and toned biceps… Steve is still getting used to doing his own job while Eddie is right there with him, kneading fresh dough or whatever. Between the ripple of his muscles and the music Eddie enjoys, it’s hard for Steve to focus.

Because that’s the other thing that had\s changed. The music. Steve loved to work in silence, but Eddie came and asked if they minded listening to music while working: heavy fucking metal and rock from the eighties is now the soundtrack to Steve’s life, since Robin, Dustin and Erica agreed with Eddie, effectively out voting him.

Things have changed for Steve and for Stobin Pastry. Not everything is bad, though, Eddie and whatever he’s posting on social media is also attracting customers to them, as Robin said it would. Steve can’t really complain.

-

“What’s this?” Steve asks, stepping into his office to find Robin and Erica, heads pressed together looking at the bright screen of Erica’s phone. There’s a weird look on Robin’s face, eyes wide open and lips curled in disgust, while Erica is biting her lower lip, holding back a smirk. “What are you-”

“Shh!” Erica shushes at him, and Steve grunts in surprise.

“I think I’m going to puke,” Robin says, her eyes still focused on whatever is playing on the screen.

“Imagine it’s a hot girl, Robs,” Erica replies, half laughing.

“That’s not the problem, Sinclair-”

“Ok, you two, what are you watching?” Steve snaps, rounds his desk to stand behind the girls and frowns, focusing his sight on whatever they’re watching.

“Oh,” Steve whispers.

On the screen, a younger version of Eddie is-

He is-

“I know, right?” Erica giggles. Giggles. “He’s so weirdly hot.”

“Well, at least now we know that he’s alway loved being in front of the camera, right?” Robin adds jokingly, as if that could help Steve to assimilate the images he’s watching right now.

Eddie is wearing a loose black shirt, far too open to be in any kitchen, Steve can see the barest hint of soft hair on his chest, and the tattoos he has there. For a brief second, Steve has the need to see them in real life. But the Eddie in the video, rewound by Erica, is flexing his arms to tie his curly hair in a messy bun, and winks at the camera.

And then, the weirdest things happen. It’s a video showing Eddie making cannoli, but it’s- It’s so sexual it’s almost explicit. He kneads the dough, making sure the camera frames his biceps and his swelling chest, and spanks it, cuts it and digs his fingers into both parts, making it look like it’s a- Good lord. Next, Eddie sinks two fingers into the cream to lick them, tongue curling sinfully around them.

Steve feels his blood simmering in his veins with a new need that startles him, mortified at the realization that he is getting hard.

"Ok, enough, Erica, we've seen enough," he says with a weak, pathetic voice.

He has to watch the whole video, but not here, not with… the girls around, no, definitely.

"Thank god," Robin sighs when Erica closes the video and locks her phone with a pout.

The girls stand up and are ready to leave Steve's office, not noticing his internal turmoil.

"Say what you want, Robs, he is hot, a bit disgusting in a way that only a guy can be, but hot nonetheless."

Steve looks at their backs, Erica's words echoing in his mind. He is hot.

"Don't let Dustin hear you saying that, Erica," Robin teases her.

"He'd agree with me…"

"Ha! That's what you think, but I tell you his reaction will be sooo much different if he hears you talking about a hot guy," Robin singsongs.

"What? Robin! What are you saying?" Erica leaves and closes the door behind her.

Steve thinks he should care about that exchange, but Eddie's video is replaying in his mind. He sits at his desk and hides his face behind his hands, muffling a groan.

The door opens again and Steve looks up to see a flustered Erica showing her head, smiling shyly.

"Chef?"

"Yeah?"

"His youtube channel," Erica says in a low voice. "Is 'demon in the kitchen', chef. I thought you’d be interested, you know, for academic purposes."

Erica shrugs before Steve can answer her, and closes the door again, leaving Steve all alone with his thoughts and his body’s reactions.

When Steve finally gets out of his office - once he’s calm and feeling ready to look everyone in the eye again, and his knees aren’t shaking - the kitchen is the coordinated chaos that it always is. No one bats an eye at him. Robin is glazing the mirror gateaux, Erica is focused on the wedding cake she’s decorating.

Dustin is talking with the staff about a new order that must be ready for the next day, and Eddie is nowhere to be seen. Steve lets out a relieved sigh, maybe he can survive the day.

-

On Monday, Stobin Pastry and Cakes is closed so everyone can rest.

Steve spends the morning in bed, his laptop on his thighs and Eddie’s old videos playing nonstop. The videos are the ultimate thirst trap, and Steve feels helpless when, during the fourth video, Eddie is glazing a doughnut and Steve imagines himself, half deliriously, licking Eddie’s fingers clean. The long haired chef pressing them against Steve’s tongue, pushing them back and forth with Steve’s lips wrapping around them, saliva dripping for his chin while Eddie’s eyes are dark and hungry for Steve-

“Oh, for fucks’ sake!” Steve exclaims, closing the laptop with more force than intended.

Steve gets up, his cock tenting the pajamas he’s wearing, and crosses his bedroom to have a shower, his heart beating hard and fast when he undresses and steps into his shower, steam surrounding him.

He tries not to think at all, but he’s aching and leaking, cock throbbing stubbornly, with the steamy hot water falling over his shoulders. Behind his eyelids, Steve can visualize the Eddie he knows, older than the Eddie in the videos, but with a mischievous smile and his big doe eyes. Steve shakes his head before wrapping his fingers around the base of his cock, squeezing it with a little bit more strength than necessary.

“Fuck,” Steve groans, stroking himself slowly and trying to think about- anyone, except his dark haired chef pastry Eddie.

Steve tries to think about broad hands roaming all over his wet body, he pinches his left nipple, moaning throatily. Soft lips that could trail kisses all along his neck, the hot breath of a faceless lover, a solid invisible body pressing against him.

And it works, for a moment.

Steve flicks his wrist during the upstroke and in that lustful second when his mind is blissfully quiet, his fantasy changes: Eddie’s tattooed hands and arms are the ones touching him, his pink, full lips - oh, Steve can see them so clearly - wrapping around the leaking head of his throbbing cock instead of around his fingers, like in that stupid video. And those eyes, those big chocolate eyes focused on him, hungry for Steve-

“Ah, shit!” Steve grunts when, ridiculously soon, his orgasm coils deep in his core and he’s unable to stop himself or to stop the new fantasy.

“Well, fuck,” he sighs at last, letting the water clean his shame. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

-

After their day off, the kitchen is once again alive and buzzing, but Steve feels like shit. Disgusted with himself, disgusted with the fact that he spent his day off fantasizing about his pastry chef. Eddie. Ugh.

Fucking ugh.

Steve feels far more exhausted than ever, with Eddie’s music playing through the speakers while they all work frantically to satisfy the customers.

Eddie, of course, ignores Steve’s inner turmoil and the effect he has on his boss.

“Close your eyes and open your mouth,” Eddie says to Steve, flirty and out of the blue. Steve wants to punch him. In his mouth. With his lips. Fuck.

“That’s not how we do things here-,” Steve starts protesting, but Eddie simply laughs.

If only Eddie knew how hard Steve is trying to keep things professional, for both of them. If only Steve could yell at Eddie and tell him he’s seen his videos, his sinfully hot and weird and sometimes disgusting videos; but fuck, Steve is completely obsessed with them. If only Steve could flirt back with Eddie and be selfish.

“Ok, ok, then, close your eyes and open your mouth, chef,” he repeats, and somehow it sounds even dirtier. Steve has to suppress a shiver.

Steve takes a look, making sure no one’s paying attention to them before reluctantly opening his mouth and feeling filthy for it. Filthy and far too aroused thanks to Eddie’s antics.

Eddie tsks when Steve doesn’t close his eyes, but raises a spoonful to his mouth and places it gently on Steve’s tongue. The flavor explosion is immediate when Steve wraps his lips around the spoon and Eddie drags it out: kiwi and pineapple, nutmeg, cinnamon, a touch of rum. Creamy salted caramel and something crunchy, pistachio. Steve closes his eyes now, tasting it, pressing it with his tongue against his palate. He doesn’t moan this time, but he wants to, he really really fucking needs to groan. Eddie’s ego doesn’t need another boost, though.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks him, biting his lower lip, all doe eyed and searching for Steve’s expressions. Opening his eyes to see Eddie looking at him like that doesn’t help to calm his heart beat.

“It’s good, Eddie, it’s really good,” Steve admits, feeling his cheeks burning and taking a second to wonder if he’s going crazy when Eddie’s eyes drop to his lips for a split second. “What are you working on?”

“Do you know that cake for that tropical themed wedding?” Eddie asks, cheeks turning red under Steve’s gaze. Steve nods. “I thought… Maybe this could be the filling, since the bride wants something different and all that, you know.”

Steve shouldn’t find Eddie as endearing as he does right now, bashful and competent and with an extraordinary mind to mix flavors and themes. Fuck.

“With a Madagascar vanilla biscuit?” Steve points up. “What about the icing?”

“Pineapple and rum?” Eddie suggests.

“Try it,” Steve smiles at Eddie. “If it’s good, you’ll be the one making the cake, take Erica with you.”

Eddie beams at him, his smile so wide that his dimples appear, and Steve feels suddenly weak on the knees. Fuck.

“Yes, chef,” he says so softly that it could be a whisper, and Steve sighs, focusing back on the gateau he was making, completely distracted by the whole interaction.

-

Three months into Steve’s life with Eddie in it, and Steve is finally, finally accepting the fact that he’s working with an extremely hot and talented man, and that he has developed something like a crush for him.

Not a big deal, Steve is a professional and he can work with Eddie. He’s even learning to flirt back, still testing the waters, not wanting to push any of Eddie’s boundaries. Eddie seems to enjoy their little interactions.

It’s just that, well, Eddie is touching Steve now. Small touches, pats in his shoulder, hands on his waist whenever Eddie has to pass behind him; it’s nothing really, silly little innocent touches that maybe, maybe linger more than they should.

Two weeks ago, Steve was holding a spoon for Eddie to grab it, and when he did, Eddie’s finger traced Steve’s knuckles and he smiled at him before he grabbed the spoon. Steve felt like swooning, like a fair maiden being courted or whatever. He had to hide in the bathroom for ten minutes after that because he was hyperventilating.

The fact that Steve’s love life is nonexistent doesn’t help either, but it’s not like Steve has time or will to meet someone new. Nor does he want to meet someone else, not when his stupid heart harbors this new and stupid hope.

Hoping that maybe Eddie’s flirting means something. Hoping that Eddie, with his hard work for Stobin Pastry, with his videos for the bakery’s instagram - gaining more and more subscribers everyday - and his new ideas. All of this means that Eddie is earnest in his intentions.

They haven’t talked about this, of course. Fuck, Steve hasn’t even told Robin about his crush. He can’t admit it out loud, it’d be so real if he does it. For the last three months Steve has been nursing these new feelings alone and silently.

Steve enters the pastry like usual, turns on the ovens to preheat them, checks the different doughs for the day… He even plays the music so Eddie’s playlist starts blasting through the speakers. And he waits.

Erica comes, showing Steve a ridiculously artistic photograph that Robin sent her using an eggplant and a peach, and they both laugh, but Steve is feeling antsy. Eddie isn’t here, and usually Eddie is already there, waiting for Steve to open the back door of the bakery, scrolling his phone idly. Eddie is never late.

The providers come and go, Erica’s in charge today, Steve’s barely paying attention to her or the providers. It’s been an hour and a half and still no sign of Eddie. Not even a text or a call.

Robin and Dustin arrive with fresh figs and some more fresh fruit, but Steve ignores them, his fingers hovering over his phone, wondering if he should call Eddie.

“Where’s Eddie?” Dustin asks, looking around the kitchen.

“I- I don’t know, he didn’t show up this morning,” Steve answers with a tremor in his voice.

What if he’s hurt? What if something terrible has happened to Eddie? Steve decides to call the guy, maybe it’s a silly thing. The alarm didn’t ring this morning, or some stupid thing that could happen to everyone. And yet, Steve presses Eddie’s number with shaking hands.

No signal.

Steve sighs, hands tugging at his hair and feeling desperate.

This is completely absurd, Eddie is probably ok, Steve just has to be patient and Eddie will explain to him once he arrives, that’ll be any moment now.

And he does, when he finally arrives and enters the kitchen half an hour later, sweating and red faced, with a small blonde girl in his arms, clinging to his neck, glassy bright blue eyes looking everywhere.

Steve looks at the little girl and then Eddie, not realizing he has dropped his jaw until Eddie’s eyes lock with his.

“Hello everyone, sorry I’m so late,” Eddie says, voice trembling. His eyes never leave Steve’s. “This little girl is CJ, she’s- She’s my kid.”

The kitchen seems haunted by an eerie, tense silence. Dustin is gaping, Erica’s jaw drops just as Steve and Robin’s eyes are wide open in a shell shocked expression.

“Your kid?” She manages to ask, darting glances to Steve.

“Yeah, well-” Eddie’s eyes are still locked with Steve, cheeks burning red. “I just…”

Steve feels - stupid, hopeless, helpless, betrayed, heartbroken, angry, desperate, miserable, incredibly relieved that Eddie is safe - like dying inside.

“Almost three hours late, Munson,” Steve grits through his teeth, his voice harsh and far too sharp. Also, Munson? He hadn’t called Eddie by his surname like, ever, and definitely not in this tone. “What do you think this place is? Your own personal playground?”

Eddie’s eyes flicker and show a thousand little expressions in the fraction of a second, his brows frowned in pain and confusion.

“I- Steve, let me explain-” Eddie’s voice is frail and Steve hates it. Steve hates that such a small detail breaks his heart a bit more, while Eddie’s kid is right there, looking at Steve with fear in her beautiful blue eyes.

“Chef,” Steve reminds him, feeling completely stupid and on the verge of a panic attack, anxiety crawling over his skin.

“Chef, please,” Eddie whispers at him, eyes pleading.

“This is not a kindergarten,” Steve snaps finally. “Take the day off if you need it. Everyone, get back to work, now!”

Steve storms out of the kitchen to hide in his office, falling into his chair with despair and hiding his face in his hands, feeling completely out of control.

What the fuck?

“What the fuck was that, chef?” Robin, of course, followed him and is now closing the door behind her so she can reprimand Steve.

“Robs-”

“Since when are you a complete moron, Steve?” Robin demands, pacing in front of him. He can hear her furious steps, but he still can’t look at his best friend. “The poor man has been trying to impress you since he stepped into the bakery, his work is impeccable, and you treat him like shit, Steve, have you noticed?”

Steve grunts.

“Since when is my best friend a jerk?” Robin asks, oh, she’s really angry at Steve, but not as angry as Steve is with himself. “This is not a kindergarten? Really? Have you seen-”

“I freaked out, ok?!” Steve spits at last, looking at her like the desperate man he is. “I thought he had an accident! I called him and- And then he appears with his kid? I didn’t know he’s married with children, ok? I didn’t know!”

Steve knows he’s making no sense, and yet, he’s letting out more than he wants. His own heartache takes control of his words, all the bottled up feelings spilling out now.

“I don’t know what I was thinking, I just-,” Steve sighs, defeated. “It’s absurd, I know, I’m being absurd.”

Robin sits in the chair in front of Steve, sighing too, far too quiet for Steve’s liking, and he knows she’s already connecting all the dots.

“So, it’s not that you hate Eddie, as Dustin and Eddie himself believe,” Robin guesses, and fuck, she guesses right.

“He thinks I hate him?” Steve asks with a strangled voice.

“That’s all the proof I needed,” Robin smiles sadly at him. “I’m sorry, Steve, it must be difficult for you, Eddie never mentioned a wife or a kid, I thought he was-”

“Yeah, me too, I think it was like, wishful thinking for me, you know?” Steve tries to laugh, but it sounds like a sad bark.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Robin says sincerely, leaning in to pat Steve’s hand. “I think you two have chemistry, like, I was convinced that it was going to happen, sooner or later.”

“You never told me that.”

Robin simply shrugs at that, and to be honest, it doesn’t matter anymore.

“You still owe him an apology, Steve, you were a jerk to him, and his kid, and a broken heart is not really an excuse, you know.”

“I know, I know,” Steve gets up. “I hate you, my little moral compass.”

“Aw, babe, but I’m so good at it.”

-

Once Steve comes back to the kitchen, the initial commotion has faded and everything is again in movement. More or less.

Robin has everyone working the moment she steps out of the office, she’s good at it, far better than Steve. He always enjoyed the creative part more than the boss part. Maybe that’s why Steve doesn’t know how to hire new people or how to face Eddie now, after his little scene just minutes ago.

Dustin and Erica are together, with Eddie’s little girl on the countertop in front of them, making her giggle and - Steve squints at them - giving her chocolate mousse. Dustin is holding the spoon for the kid, CJ, while Erica is looking fondly at Dustin.

Steve sighs, thinking that probably he’ll have to deal with whatever is blooming between these two, but not now. Now he has to find Eddie and apologize to him, and meanwhile he can accept the fact that Eddie is a taken man.

Before he can take a step forward, Robin is already looking at him and points with her chin towards the adjacent kitchen, the one where Eddie records the videos. Steve nods at her sharply, takes a deep breath, and goes to find Eddie.

The long haired chef is there, looking miserable. He has his face hidden in the crook of his arms, slumped against the clean, empty counter, his curls wild and loose, covering his head and shoulders.

He doesn’t notice Steve when he enters the kitchen. Steve opens his mouth, but closes it again, unsure about what to say. The words feel heavy in his sore chest, all that crumpled hope like a bitter ache, making everything a bit more difficult for Steve,

But Robin is right. Eddie never made a move towards Steve, not really. What if the man is flirty by nature? Steve is the one with the stupid crush, and the one that let things get this far.

Deciding to do the right thing, Steve clears his throat, loud enough for Eddie to hear him. Steve grimaces at the startled long haired chef when he looks up, straightening in his spot as a militar. His big doe eyes are glassy and his brows are pinched, his whole pretty face contorted in a painful expression.

Well done, Harrington, Steve thinks.

“Steve!” Eddie squeaks. “I mean, chef, I’m sorry, I- It would never happen again, I just-”

Steve shakes his head, taking a step forward. Seeing Eddie like this shouldn’t hurt him this much, and knowing that he made it worse it’s actually killing Steve from the inside.

“No, Eddie, I am sorry,” Steve sighs, forcing himself to be an adult and look at Eddie’s eyes while he apologizes. “That was completely out of place, I should have asked you if you were ok, if everything was ok, not- I didn’t handle it well, and I’m sorry for that.”

Eddie makes a throaty sound that sounds like a very confused frog.

“Well, you’re the boss and I was late-” Eddie starts to say, sounding defeated. His next words he says them in a rush, as if Steve wouldn’t listen to him if he takes too much time saying them. “I don’t want to lose my job, chef, I love my job, I love working here, please-”

“What?” Steve frowns. “Eddie, I’m not firing you, and please, stop calling me chef.”

Steve decides that today they need to talk, today he has to properly meet Eddie Munson, pastry chef of Stobin, instead of assuming things and let his crush take the best of him.

He leads Eddie to the office, but of course, Dustin has to be the annoying nosy kid - now taller and broader and with stubble, but still a kid for Steve - and jumps in front of them.

“You can’t fire him, Steve!” He says, in that strangled tone he uses whenever he’s chastising Steve. That is, more often than it should be. “That’s not cool, just because-”

“Shouldn’t you be working on that order of cinnamon rolls?” Steve interrupts him, putting a hand on Dustin’s shoulder. “Take Erica and CJ with you if that’s what you want, and we both can talk later, in the office.”

Dustin opens his mouth again, but Steve smiles at him.

“I’m not going to fire Eddie, dude, relax,” Steve promises. Dustin is looking at him with those puppy eyes, lips pressed together in a fine line, but nods sharply after a moment.

“Yes, chef,” Dustin says before leaving, trotting towards Erica, who is still with Eddie’s kid.

Steve closes the door of the office behind them. It’s a simple space, a few chairs, the desk with the computer on top, a couch with a cozy blanket. There are a few shelves, full of cooking books and notebooks written by hand, Steve and Robin’s own recipes and tips, techniques and ideas.

There’s also a coffee machine and a lot of mismatched, novelty mugs. Steve doesn’t waste a moment and picks two of them, pouring coffee onto them.

“Milk and sugar?” Steve asks Eddie, and points at him to sit on the couch.

“Just sugar is ok, thank you.”

It hurts to see Eddie like this, deflated and sad and nothing like his usual self. Steve’s heart clenches at the sight, but he’s decided to ask and to know who Eddie Munson is.

Steve puts one of the mugs in front of Eddie, Dustin’s mug, with yellow ducklings painted on it. Steve holds his own mug, his favorite, the one the kids bought him long ago for father’s day. It says Steve #1 Dad, a private joke between them all.

“Well,” Steve drags one of the chairs until he can sit in front of Eddie. “I know I should have done this when we hired you months ago, but, as you can see I’m terrible at this.”

“You’re not the worst boss I’ve ever had, Steve,” Eddie manages to smile shyly, and it calms Steve’s nerves a bit.

“Yeah, well, I can be better,” Steve smiles back at him. “Ok, Edward Munson, tell me a bit about you.”

[envious-dior]

﹙ 𝗺. ﹚ — do you enjoy loving me?

tags : female!reader, afab!reader, she/her pronouns when addressing reader, peeling oranges, miguel being soft with his wife, fluff with no happy ending, implied character character death, no smut just sad miggy migs

“you peel oranges horribly.”

the sun had painted the sky—the summer blues being over shined by the hues of tangerine and gold. he was sitting in a chair in their shared dining room, legs slightly spread, as he clawed through oranges. the sweet tangy scent of citrus wafts through the air, their fresh amber tears splashing onto his brown forearms—a scowl immediately decorating his face. “i peel them just fine,” he mumbles, practically throwing the peels onto their rounded table.

your shoulders gently shake, eyes gently closing as wrinkles appear near the edge of them. you are sitting on the table itself, sitting far too close to the vase of flowers—flowers that you pick from the garden you spent hours perfecting. they are not the brightest thing in the room, despite the vivid vermilions and violets that gently caress one another—you had decorated their home personally, and you had always enjoyed colors.

you press your thumbnail into the fruits supple skin, it’s slightly rough texture tickling the tips of your fingers—your lips gently curve into a delicate smile as the skin finally gives in. the fragrance that already took control of the air had intensified, and his sensitivity gently twitched because of it. his eyes are also narrow, noting the perfect circles of orange skin that you peel, and the fact that no sunburst juice taints your own naked forearms. “alright, wise guy,” you whisper—eyes fluttering close as your dimples become more evident as your smile continues to stretch. “whatever you say.”

“i peel them great.” he stares at the orange that is in his palm, odd indentations around it, the white inner skin still clinging onto the citrus fruit—seeds gently sticking out. so, when you offer a slice of your—perfectly peeled—orange, he doesn’t reject it, only taking it with a huff and a slight scowl.

you don’t say anything about it, though your quiet giggles that gently erupt from your throat say enough. you were quiet for a few seconds—you were never quiet—so, miguel looked up, his eyes strained on your delicate form perched upon your wooden dining table. “do you remember?—” your voice is soft, full of warmth as your eyes gently turns towards him. “—when we were younger, we would play a game with the peels.”

he does. he does remember—the two of you, youthful skin still intact, would sit in your porch with a bowel of your mothers stolen orange between the two of you. the power of nature overpowered the sweet citrus scent—in those memories, all he can remember is the scent of grass and the sound of your shared innocent laughter.

they would try to make characters, animals—practically anything out of the peels. they always failed. he couldn’t help the smile that managed to crawl its way onto his lips. “we were terrible.”

“you were terrible.” you corrected, which was a lie. “i was great.”

“yea right.” he scoffed, leaning forward and planting a kiss on your knee. your hand, sticky with the juice of the orange, gently ran through the dark chocolate strands of his hair. “mi vida—i just washed—”

“i’ll wash it for you.” you said, cutting him—gently lowering your upper body and placing a delicate kiss on his head. “te amo.” you whisper softly.

“te amo también,” he whispers back.

“te amo más que a nadie en este mundo.” it’s so casual—the way you say it. he doesn’t think that you understand the weight of the words that you had uttered.

“you don’t mean that.” he replies swiftly, sitting up. his eyes are sharp, his mouth gently curling downwards in a familiar motion as his hands lie atop of the table.

you don’t laugh, only tilting your head to the side, a frown of your own taking place on your face. it was out of place—you were different from him, always laughing, always giggling, always happy. it looked wrong to see you frowning. “i do,” your voice is still soft—your brows are furrowed, as if you don’t understand. “i do mean that.”

“that you love me more than anyone else in the world?”

your lips curl up into a smile. “yes.” you breath. “i—i enjoy loving you, i love loving—” your smile stretches even wider at your words. “—you. i think—i think it’s the best thing ive ever done.”

he was silent for a few moments, tilting his head away from you as he found the table more interesting. he follows the natural swirling of the wood, of the various colors of brown that gently melt into one another. “i find it scary,” he says after a moment of silence—feeling his breath get stuck in between his lungs, his palms having a thin sheet of sweat lay over them. “loving you.”

he can feel your eyes bearing straight at him. “why?”

he licks his lips, feeling his tongue dry. still, he urged it to curl—he urged it to get the words out. “because loving you means losing you.”

“loving me means having me—” you corrected, but you were wrong, leaning forward and gently placing one of your hands on his shoulders. your eyes were wide, watery and ready to spill, as your lips quiver. you were always easy to cry.

“no.” he shakes his head. “it means losing you—it—it means one day, im going to have to live with the fact that im going to live more by myself than i am going to live with you.” he wants to do laundry with you, wants to wash the dishes and bump hips, wants to fold the clothes and make his side of the bed, and stare at your sleeping form as you hug the pillow—pretending it’s him. he wants that—he needs that—he can’t have that.

your teeth gently sink into your bottom lip, as your hands fall into your lap. “you don’t enjoy loving me?” your voice cracks near the middle of your words, lips quivering.

“i do,” he reassures, standing up—ignoring the way the chair screeches against their flooring—gently placing his hands by your hips, staring down at you as you stared up at him. “i—i—i do, i do enjoy loving you. it is—it’s the best thing i have ever done.” he echoes your words. he leans forward, gently connecting your foreheads. your sticky fingers gently caress the sides of his face. “i—you are everything to me.”

“you’re everything to me, too.” you nuzzle your face closer to his, if even possible, eyes fluttering close. he could count the amount of eyelashes you have.

he licks his lips again, his hands traveling up your sides—cupping your cheeks just as you did his. “but i—but i think it’s going to eat me.” he whispers, terrified. “i think the love i have for you is going to eat me alive.”

“but that’s what love is, isn’t it?” you always manage to leave him speechless. “it’s this—it’s this thing that devours us—it—it’s taking control.” you couldn’t help giggle, fingers gently digging into his skin as your head gently tilted back—eyes fluttering open, even as tears watered your cheeks. “it’s kind of like a parasite, ain’t it? love?”

he breathes. “yea,” he says. “it kind of is, isn’t it…”

you pull back completely, your hands hovering over it before gently taking them off of your face—interlocking your fingers together. the mere size difference between the two of you is simply astounding. “i enjoy loving you,” you repeat your earlier words. “i will always enjoy loving you—the love i have for you, it is going to eat me whole.” you stare into his eyes. “i am going to let it.”

he does not envy others who find love. he does not envy the shared laughter, the shared memories—of curling up on the corners of the couch, of fingers finding and longing for one another, of the shared secrets, of everything. he doesn’t—because he knows what love does.

it will leave you utterly happy and utterly heartbroken.

he is sitting at the dining room table, and the chair beside him is empty, the flowers in the vase are dying—your garden is dying. despite the fact that you tried so hard to make the house seem alive, the once bright colors seem muted. the throw pillows on the couch, that fluffy creamy blanket, is no longer used. dust collects in your bedroom. he sleeps in his office instead.

he stares at the wooden table—his finger gently tracing the natural swirling of the wood, eyes blurring. the various browns melt into one another. he misses your sweet laughter, he misses your honeyed melody of a voice. he misses you—all of you—you.

because he is going to spend more years alone—than he did spending the years by your side.

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Ikemen Villains - Part 2

These translations are not intended as a replacement for the game. Please support cybird by buying their stories. SPOILERS under the cut. Expect mistakes.

(I couldn't watch anymore, so I forced him to go out, but maybe it was none of my business.)

Kate: "Sorry for being selfish."

Elbert: "No."

Elbert looked around the courtyard and let out a breath.

Elbert: "I just realized I'm having trouble breathing, too."

Elbert: "Thank you."

Kate: "My pleasure."

(Thank goodness. I think his expression softened a bit.)

I felt a rumbling in my stomach as I felt relieved.

Elbert: "Are you hungry?"

Kate: "It looks like it."

(T-This is embarrassing.)

Kate: "I should've brought some food before we snuck out. That was careless of me."

I smiled to hide my embarrassment, and he gently held his palm toward me.

Elbert: "Want some?"

Kate: "What?"

A beautiful package sat in the palm of his hand.

When I opened it, I found an orangette coated with dark chocolate.

Elbert: "That caught my eye as we were leaving the hall."

(Does that mean he likes it?)

(If that's the case...)

Kate: "Thank you. Since we're lovers, let's have a halfsies."

Elbert: "Huh?"

I divided the orangette into two, struggling a bit to tear off the orange peel.

Kate: "Which one do you want?"

When I offered it to him in my palm, he looked at the orangette and stared into my eyes.

Elbert: "The one that is yours."

Kate: "Huh?"

Elbert: "I want the one you will choose.”

(It feels weird when he says it like that. It's like we're really lovers.)

(I know we're just "pretending," but if he keeps this up, I'll get the wrong idea.)

I calmed my clamoring chest and offered him the one with lots of chocolate.

Kate: "Here, take this one, then."

Elbert: "Thanks."

We both savored the sweet and bitter orangette.

My racing heartbeat refused to slow down, so I looked around the garden for a distraction.

Kate: "Hey, look. There's a birdcage on display."

Inside the birdcage, a beautiful parrot with blue feathers was quietly resting.

Elbert: "I want that one."

Kate: "That parrot? Why?"

Elbert: "It's on display because it's beautiful. So I want that one."

(He wants it because it’s beautiful?)

According to the information about Elbert’s curse that Victor gave me, he has the curse of the Greedy Queen.

He collects art, jewelry, and sometimes even rocks in the hope of acquiring the most beautiful thing in the world.

(I've been thinking about it ever since I read that one.)

(I can understand if he only likes beautiful things, but to want something so vague as “the best in the world”?)

(Plus, I don’t get how a rock could be the best thing in the world.)

Kate: “How can you be awed by something so beautiful?”

Elbert: “Because...”

Elbert: “Because I have to have it for a reason.”

Kate: “Reason?”

Elbert: “...........”

He remained silent, unwilling to be asked any further.

(I wonder what’s in the back of his mind.)

If I carelessly poked in too much, I might hurt him, just like the people in the hall.

Unable to say anything, he suddenly asked me a question.

Elbert: “Do you think that bird is beautiful?”

(I bet if I agree, he’ll try to get that parrot.)

I could sense this from his dark possessive gaze focused on the parrot.

(But...)

(I shouldn’t just agree without knowing what he wants.)

Kate: "What is beautiful to you?"

Elbert: "I don't know."

Elbert: "I thought I knew, but my idea of beauty was worth nothing."

(What does that mean?)

Before I could even think about it, a loud voice broke the silence in the courtyard.

Graham: "Hey, is that you two there? There's a big fuss about you two disappearing from the venue."

Elbert: "----!"

(Graham and a guest, maybe?)

Graham, the party's host, was on his way to another room with some man.

Graham: "We're going to play billiards now. I hear you're not a big fan of this game, Count."

Graham: "How about you, Kate? If you join us, I promise you'll have fun."

(It sounds like a normal invitation, but somehow, it smells fishy.)

The two of them suspiciously smiled at me, making me feel uneasy.

Kate: "No. I'm..."

Just as I was about to decline the offer politely, a hand slipped around my stomach.

Elbert: "I told you to leave her alone."

Kate: “Elbert?”

He suddenly pulled me close to his body.

(Why is he...?)

Elbert gazed at him harshly.

Graham: “I’m surprised. I didn’t realize you could have that look in your eyes, too.”

Graham: “Sorry, I’m not trying to pick a fight. See you then.”

Kate: “Yeah, see you.”

Elbert: “............”

Elbert watched them closely until Graham and his friend turned the corner and were out of sight.

Even after Graham disappeared, he didn’t remove his hand from my stomach.

(I knew it. Something is wrong.)

Kate: “Elbert, is something wrong with Graham?”

Elbert: “No, nothing yet.”

Kate: “Nothing yet?”

Elbert: “Kate, come here.”

Elbert led me into an empty room.

Kate: “Elbert, what’s this room?”

(Is this a guest room? Can we really go in here without permission?)

Elbert: “I don’t want you to leave here until I pick you up.”

Kate: “What?”

Elbert: “I’ll be right back. Until then, stay here.”

He quickly turned around and left the room.

Kate: “Ah, wait, Elbert!”

I rushed to the closed door and heard a light metallic click. I tried turning the doorknob, but it wasn’t budging.

(He locked the door? Why would he do that?)

(He was acting strange all day. Especially in front of Graham.)

(Something is definitely up. There's a reason why he locked me in here.)

(Maybe I should wait quietly. But I need to understand him better.)

(If I wait like this, won't I miss something important about him?)

(Plus...)

His hurt expression as he endured the touches and his pained expression as he stared at the parrot, like a possessed man, flashed through my mind.

(That guy is kind of hard to leave alone.)

At that moment, someone knocked on the door.

(Who is it?)

Alfons: "Kate, Kate, guess who?"

Kate: "A-Alfons?"

Alfons: "Correct. I'm so glad you remember my voice."

(Alfons knew I was locked in here.)

(Is the thing he gave Elbert earlier the key to this room?)

(If so, they planned this from the start.)

(But why? What's Elbert trying to do now?)

Alfons: "Fufu. I can feel the seriousness through the door. It's almost suffocating me."

Alfons: "I can open this for you, but what do you want me to do?"

Kate: "Are you sure? If you let me out, aren't you betraying Elbert?"

Alfons: "Aha! Are you worried about me? You’re so kind."

Alfons: "El can't do anything, no matter who betrays or hurts him."

Alfons spoke as if sensing that I couldn't leave Elbert alone.

I heard a metallic click, alerting me that he had unlocked the door.

Alfons: "If you want to get to know him, go ahead and get out."

I followed Alfons and stepped into the dark, dusty room.

(Is Elbert here?)

A figure emerged from the darkness, dimly lit by the twilight.

His golden hair was dazzling even in the darkness, and I knew at first glance that it was him.

Kate: "Elbert?"

Elbert: "Kate?"

Part 1╏Part 2╏Premium End╏Epilogue

[kokomae]

Best Chocolate Company in India

With this addition to our new line of organic coated nuts, we want to please the fans of dark chocolate and almonds! They are unadulterated, enlightening, and shockingly pungent. You may pick from a variety of chocolate alternatives at Kokomae, including chocolate bars, packs, and gift boxes, as well as flavoured and chocolate-covered nuts.

[cryptidclaw]

ORANGE CHOCOLATE?? I’ve never heard of that what the hecky

YOU HAVEN'T??? BRO UR MISSING OUT IT SLAPS SO HARD

Its my fave yum yum

Best orange chocolate items: chocolate covered orange peels, orange-chocolate bars (dark chocolate best)

[victoriouscabaret]

I was tagged by the forever lovely @chaeza! Thank you friend! <3

Do you make your bed? When I remember to/feel like it. Mornings are usually chaos for me, so getting dressed and making myself look presentable usually takes priority over making the bed.

Favorite number? 9

What's your job? Office Manager. I’m happy with it. Definitely not burnt out like I was when I did funerals. I do really miss being a mortician though. Helping people and taking care of them during a tremendously hard time was so fulfilling, and I don’t think I’ll ever not be fascinated by death from a psychological, cultural, and medical perspective. Alas…

Can you parallel park? With a good deal of swearing and asking myself why I’m even doing this.

Do you think aliens are real? It would be stranger if they weren’t.

Can you drive a manual car? Better than a few, worse than most.

What's your guilty pleasure? Hmmm… I don’t really like sweets or candy, but I could absolutely devastate a package of dark chocolate covered orange peels. Those little things are unfairly tasty.

Tattoos? A teeeeeeny tiny Tolkien illustration of Smaug above the crook of my left arm, a hand holding a candle and a flower with the solar system around it (the universe I guess according to the artist? That’s what she called it at least. Its dope and I love it) on my right thigh, a tribal-esque snake that I drew when I was 19 and decided I needed it on me permanently, so it’s between my shoulder blades and has aged terribly. Going to get that covered up with a Big Ass Panther or something probably. Aaaaand a tragic stick n poke on the inside of my left ankle that I did when I was 17 and thought I was edgy. It looks like nothing. Just a bunch of faded dots of ink in the suggestion of a circle. I love tattoos and held off getting any after my snake for so long because I was worried about family and society judging me, but I’ve recently realized how absolutely fucking ridiculous that is, so I’ve already got my next three planned out lol.

Favorite color? Green

Favorite types of music? Any and all. If it’s got a danceable groove or great lyrics, it’s for me.

Do you like puzzles? Hyperfocusing on jigsaw puzzles is one of my favourite pastimes, but I have two cats, and one of them especially likes to “help” so I just don’t bother these days lol. Some brain puzzles stress me out, and numbers don’t work properly in my brain so stuff like Sudoku isn’t for me. I really enjoy riddles and logic puzzles.

Any phobias? Spiders, enclosed spaces, and heights.

Favorite childhood sport? I really enjoyed most sports as a kid and am a naturally athletic person. I really wanted to do hockey, but certain people thought that dancing was more appropriate for a girl, so into ballet I went for years. I did enjoy dancing a lot, and after I quit ballet and jazz, I started ballroom dancing and competed in country ballroom and swing until I turned 18.

Do you talk to yourself? I think my head would literally explode if I didn’t.

What movies do you adore? Oh man… so many. Comfort ones that I’ll always be happy to watch are: The Princess Bride, Kill Bill Vol. 1&2, Only Lovers Left Alive, the lotr trilogy, Moulin Rouge, and Wristcutters: A Love Story

Coffee or Tea? Coffee, but have ventured more into tea over the past year or so. My caffeine sensitivity went bananas when I still did funerals - I think because the funeral coffee I drank all day, every day was so strong my body was eventually just like “nope” so I can have like… max one coffee a day now otherwise I’m just anxious AND tired but can’t fall asleep at bedtime.

First thing you wanted to be growing up? An acrobat lol.

Non-obligatory tags: @thefallenangelsgang, @preciouslittlebhaalbae, @allofthebarks, @myheartismadeofstars, @inkymoonbunny

[e-m-p-error]

Valentino's Clubs' Signature Drinks Part One

Two signature drinks at all of Valentino's establishments are the True Love's Diss and True Love's Kiss. True Love's Diss is gin, sweet vermouth, rose extract, and Campari. It is garnished with rose petals. True Love's Kiss is also garnished with a rose petal and heart-shaped edible glitter. It is a sweet sparkling wine drink with strawberry juice mixed into it. Both drinks have a dash of Love Potion in them.

Bloodsport - Sports Bar; Full bar, 30 Big-Screen TVs + All Sports Packages Available, Full Kitchen

Bloodsport Signature Drinks

Poison Apple - Hard apple cider with a splash of orange liquer

Dark Side - Black cherry martini with a (dyed) black cherry for garnish

Brite Lite - Strip Club; Exclusively Insect Sinners Work Here; Full Bar, VIP Rooms, Drug Vending Machines, Bar Snacks Only

Brite Lite Signature Drinks

Orchid Mantis - Kiwi liqueur, prickly pear vodka, orchid elixir syrup; Velvette Inspired

Lightning Bug - Rum, pineapple/mango/mangosteen/papaya vodka, cognac

Club Hell 666 - Strip Club; Full Bar, VIP Rooms, Drug Vending Machines, Sports Bar-Esque Kitchen

Club Hell 666 Signature Drinks

Angel's Web: Peach mint julep with a hint of strawberry syrup at the top; Angel Dust Inspired

Secret Admirer: Rosé wine, strawberry syrup, rose petals, club soda, and a splash of maraschino cherry juice with a hint of lemon and lemon peel for garnish; Angel Dust Inspired

Dick Heaven - Gay Bar; Only men work here; Full Bar, VIP Rooms, Drug Vending Machines, Free Use Sex Rooms, Attendants Paid Via Tips In Glory Hole Stalls, Traditional Bar Food Only

Dick Heaven Signature Drinks

Valentino Loves A Good Peach - Peach schnapps, mint leaves, strawberry syrup, lime juice

Tender Kisses - Spiked cherry lemonade with a dash of rose extract

Glory Hole - High-End Sex Club; Full bar, Dancefloor, Bathrooms + Glory Hole Stalls, Drug Vending Machines, Pay-To-Play sex rooms/toys/gear/lube available in each room, VIP Brothel Upstairs, Showers, Full Kitchen

Glory Hole Signature Drinks

Teal-quila Sunrise - Raspberry syrup, tequila, blue curaçao, lime juice, orange cognac

Glory Hole Garden - Lavender syrup, coconut rum, blueberry sparkling wine, garnished with a green cherry soaked in lavender syrup, has a dash of Love Potion in it

Heartbeats - Karaoke Bar; Full Bar, Full Kitchen

Heartbeats Signature Drinks

Throat Tamer - Piña colada with a lemony twist

Gold Standard - Classic Bronx cocktail with a dash of tangerine schnapps

Horns - Imp City Strip Club; Full bar, Dancefloor, Bathrooms + Glory Hole Stalls, Drug Vending Machines, Meager Kitchen

Horns Signature Drinks

Bubbly Black Widow - Black vodka, cranberry juice, coconut creme, and brown sugar boba

Love & Sex & Magic - Cherry vodka, kiwi syrup, blue curaçao, maraschino cherry juice, garnish with kiwi slice

Number Of The 63457 - Strip Club; Exclusively Hellborn Work Here; Full Bar, VIP Rooms, Drug Vending Machines, Traditional Bar Food Only

Number Of The 63457 Signature Drinks

Bitter Envy - Blue Curaçao, Midori, Raspberry Syrup, Melon Whip With A Hint Of Chocolate; Leviathan Inspired

Bittersweet Lust - Mangosteen Vodka, blue raspberry syrup, burnt martini; Asmodeus Inspired

NYMPH-O-MANIAC - BDSM Club; Older than Spark Plugs; Full bar, planned scenes for show, rooms/floor space available for scenes among patrons, pay-to-play toys/gear/lube available, bring-your-own-gear encouraged only for dress

NYMPH-O-MANIAC Signature Drinks

Skanque - Apple vodka, apple juice, orange juice, blue curaçao, red wine, rosemary and apples

Lot Lizard - Cherry/vanilla vodka, vanilla cream, garnished with a rose petal and a cherry

Pussy Paraíso - Lesbian Bar; Only women work here; Full Bar, VIP Rooms, Drug Vending Machines, Free Use Sex Rooms, Brunch and Bar Food Only

Pussy Paraiso Signature Drinks

Check Out My Melons - Cantaloupe puree, simple syrup, white rum, maraschino cherry juice, lime juice, seltzer, food coloring

Eelectric Pink - Vodka, chilled green tea, simple syrup, lime juice, mint, grenadine

R3D - Imp City Nightclub; Full bar, Dancefloor, Drug Vending Machines, Meager Kitchen

R3D Signature Drinks

Royale Flush - Black currant liqueur, sparkling red wine, berries

Black Mage - Black vodka, lime juice, maraschino cherry juice

Redlight - Sex Club; Full bar, Dancefloor, Bathrooms + Glory Hole Stalls, Drug Vending Machines, Free Use Sex Rooms, Pay-To-Play toys/gear/lube available in each room, Showers, Full Kitchen

Redlight Signature Drinks

Chica Cherry Limeade - A cherry limeade with amaretto vodka

Chum The Water - Grenadine, pomegranate vodka, blue sugar crystals

Shymmer - Strip Club; Attached to Shyne via a corridor; Full Bar, VIP Rooms, Higher-End Kitchen

Shymmer Signature Drinks

Day Drinking Special: Shymmer's Chocolate Mojito

Night Life Special: Shymmidori Martini - Melon Martini

Shyne - Nightclub; Attached to Shymmer via a corridor; Full bar, Dancefloor, Bathrooms + Glory Hole Stalls, Drug Vending Machines, Sports Bar-Esque Kitchen

Shyne Signature Drinks

Fruit Popper - Grape/green apple vodka, cream, whipped cream, berries, cherries, and apples to garnish, mint; One of those berries also has a surprise pill in it.

Candyland - Cotton candy vodka, birthday cake vodka, Nerds; Beelzebub Inspired

Part Two Here

[crownmemes]

Pretentious & Poetic Sentences, Vol. 3

(Pretentious sentences from various sources for muses that like to speak in grandiose sentences. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"What is existence but the absorption of and the reaction to the data that the universe presents?"

"I can provide several solutions for removing blood. Sadly, none of them can remove the stain of murder from one's soul."

"All turns to art in the artist's hand."

"Neither innocence nor vigilance may be protection against the howling heart of evil."

"A man digs a hole, he risks falling into it."

"I have a vision of myself without this job, disappearing down emotional dark tunnels. I need something to hold me to the world."

"You're like me. You don't just see the everyday, the banal. Human beings running about this planet thinking everything they do matters and has meaning. You see the underneath."

"I know you're not just running. I know you're not just trying to escape."

"We're all fish eating other fish. I'd rather be swimming with the biggest one."

"People in the dark are quite different, aren't they?"

"You're the most dangerous man alive. Not because you believe in your actions, but because you believe these actions are all which life allows you."

"The journey from vice to evil is but a step."

"The fiercest enemy is the man who has nothing left to lose."

"A dream is an answer to a question we haven't yet figured out how to ask."

"It's not places which are evil, it's people."

"Nothing happens in contradiction to nature, only in contradiction to what we know of it."

"Is it possible to truly know another person? Is it even a worthwhile pursuit?"

"Without the capacity for pain, we can't feel the hurt we inflict."

"Regret is an inevitable consequence of life."

"Sometimes you have to bite the orange in order to peel it."

"Sometimes the only sane response to an insane world is insanity."

"On one level or another, we all want to kill our father."

"If you look too hard, you can go mad, but if you continue to look, you become liberated."

"Did you really think you could call up the Devil and ask him to behave?"

"Nature abhors normality."

"What are you asking for? Mercy or forgiveness?"

"There's no Heaven. There's no soul. There's just rot, and there's just decay."

"I sometimes feel we have no control over what our eyes decide to see or not to see."

"Tell me, did you pay in money or blood?"

"Life is like a box of chocolates. A cheap, thoughtless, perfunctory gift that nobody ever asks for."

"Men can never be free because they're weak, corrupt, worthless, and restless."

"The way I see it, we're just animals fulfilling a biological imperative."

"It's been said that the fear of the unknown is an irrational response to the excesses of the imagination."

"When a frog eats a fly, it's not murder. It just is."

"Don't unlock doors you're not prepared to go through. "

"Control the board. Know which men to sacrifice and when."

"You can't ask the truth of a man who trades in lies."

"Is it the fate of the innocent to suffer?"

[sleepyowlwrites]

unusual associations tag

freshly poached from Breezy, who never puts locks in their hoard @blind-the-winds

Rules: pick as oc and answer their associations (I guess)

I'm doing R and Savannah (from Youth) because I was thinking about them at work today

Seasoning: R is mint. He's mostly chill but a little bit spicy if you bite into too much of him. Savannah is sweet and sour sauce - what is that - because uh she is.

Weather: R is a blustery day but it's not cold, exactly, and the sun is out. You're fighting the wind but you're happy about it. Savannah is the boiling heat of midsummer. You're dying but you're happy about it.

Color: R is brick red, but according to Savannah he's orange. He's loud, he draws your eye, and he never shuts up. Savannah is pink, and she's adorable, and she'll fight you.

Sky: R is the pale, pale blue right before the sky turns red at sunset. Savannah is the effervescent aurora in all its cotton candy glory.

Magical power: R is projected thermography, which is great considering his terrible memory. Savannah is colorized telepathic empathy, which is great considering her tendency to suck at secrets.

House plant: R is a sunflower that is too tall for your low ceilings. Savannah is an orchid that is not the color you thought it'd be.

Weapon: R is flirtation, and if that fails, fists. He's a crappy fighter, though. Savannah is intimidation, and if that fails, fists. She's better than R.

Subject: R is history, which again, the irony. Savannah is athletics.

Social Media: R gets insta, because he needs to have visual representation of what he did yesterday. Savannah is tumblr. She's a tumblr girlie and you're not even mad.

Makeup product: R is eyeliner maybe? Dramatic lad. Savannah is the funkiest eyeshadow.

Candy: R is dark chocolate covered candied orange peels. Savannah is nerds rope.

Fear: R fears being overlooked, and also being perceived. You know. Mortifying experience. Savannah could stand to be a little more afraid.

Ice cube shape: R is actual cubes. Savannah is like. I dunno. Mickey mouse. Something gimmicky.

Method of long distance travel: train for both. They really like riding on trains, or the metro, or trolleys.

Art style: R is that guy that does the troubled birds. Adrian somebody. Matt Adrian. Savannah is that guy that does the blocky color landscapes that are nonsense up close but super cool far out. Uh.

Mythological creature: R is a changeling, but instead of being a faerie he's just another human, but he's convinced he's special forever because he has this funny mark on him. He is special! He's a failed changeling. Savannah is a mermaid, and yes I'm saying that because she loves to swim.

Piece of stationary: R is a postcard and Savanah is a tiny note in a tiny envelope.

Celestial body: R is Pluto, because he doesn't know if he deserves to be in the gang or not. Savannah is a supernova, because she deserves to be.

@oh-no-another-idea @akindofmagictoo @iparisaltanwing @livvywrites @flock-from-the-void @nikkywrites or anybody!

[bestrecipes2023]

Chocolate & avocado mousse

“This is the most deliciously indulgent chocolate mousse, made using the humble avocado. Plus, I’m sharing my genius avocado shell hack, so you can make your very own homemade Easter egg halves filled with fresh fruits and luxurious sweet cherries. If you’re looking to go all-out this Easter, this incredible dessert is all you need. ”

Ingredients

300 g quality dark chocolate , (70%)

2 large ripe avocados

2 heaped teaspoons cocoa powder

2 teaspoons vanilla bean paste

3 tablespoons maple syrup

1 x 160 g tin of coconut cream

fresh fruit such as oranges, strawberries, blueberries, raspberries , to serve

amarena cherries in syrup , to serve, optional

white chocolate , to serve, optional

Get Your FREE EBOOK With Over 700 Beginner Friendly Recipes HERE

Method

1. Snap 80g of dark chocolate into a heatproof bowl and melt over a pan of gently simmering water until smooth, stirring occasionally (or gently melt in the microwave). Remove the pan from the heat, keeping the bowl over the pan.

2. Meanwhile, halve and destone the avocados and scoop out the flesh into a food processor. (Try to remove as much of the flesh as possible, but a little left in the shell is fine).

3. You’ll now have four empty avocado skin halves. Using a clean pastry brush, brush the inside of the avocado shells with a layer of melted chocolate until evenly covered. Transfer to a tray and place in the fridge for 10 minutes until set. Repeat this process two more times, until you’ve applied three layers of chocolate. Return the tray to the fridge for half an hour, or until set completely.

4. Meanwhile, place the pan and bowl back on a low-medium heat, snap in the remaining dark chocolate and leave to melt.

5. Once melted, add the chocolate to the food processor with the cocoa powder, vanilla bean paste, maple syrup, coconut cream and a pinch of salt, and pulse for a few seconds to combine. Scrape down the sides with a spatula, then pulse again, until smooth. Scrape into a bowl, cover and leave in the fridge until needed (but no longer than 2 hours).

6. Once the chocolate shells are set, gently peel the avocado skins away from the shells and discard. Heat a tablespoon in a jug of boiling water for a few seconds.

7. Now it’s time to get a bit creative with your presentation: using the hot spoon, roll up 1 tablespoon of the chocolate mousse for each serving plate (you will end up with about half of the chocolate mixture leftover, please see tip below). Press the chocolate shells onto the mousse, filling each with a little fruit (I used halved strawberries and blueberries, orange segments and a couple of amarena cherries). Drizzle with a little of the cherry liquor, and some melted and grated white chocolate to finish, if you like.

..........................................Keep Reading.....................................

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Greetings M :) Sending you a request for the prompt: "Hot Chocolate and marshmallows - modern AU" with Fingon x reader please? Thank you!

Pairing: Modern! Fingon x Reader (second person POV)

Themes: Soft/Fluff

Warnings: None

Wordcount: 600+ words

Summary: Fingon looks forward to enjoying a cup of hot chocolate after coming home.  

Minors DNI

Divider by @estrelinha-s

Fingon peeled off his wet jacket and hung it on the wall-mounted rack by the door, looking about as miserable as he felt. The weather was particularly vicious this evening, with snow falling relentlessly and the wind having a sharp bite to it. All in all, it was a most wretched journey home.

At least the water ran hot while he showered, and the soap smelled faintly of orange while it glided over his skin. Ten minutes was all he took, but those ten minutes were glorious. When the last of the icy chill was driven out of his body, he stepped out of the shower to dry himself off and put on a pair of jeans and a comfortable sweater. And while the scents of fresh flowers on the mantle and the pine from the Christmas tree were invigorating, it was the scents from the kitchen that truly enticed him.

“Ah, what scents.” Fingon made himself comfortable in his usual seat at the breakfast nook. He took a deep breath and sighed dreamily. “Tomato soup. Grilled cheese sandwiches. Chocolate?”

“Hot chocolate and marshmallows for later.” You set his dinner on the counter and took your place beside him, giving him a discrete, measured look. Even in a pair of old jeans and a sweater, everything that was Valinorian about Fingon shone through. Tall and sharp, and with that sleek, waist-length dark hair of his, he stood out wherever he was and in whatever he wore. “I swear you are as skilled at sniffing things out as that beast your cousin calls a dog.”   

“Tyelko will not take kindly to Huan being called a beast.” Fingon swallowed the first spoonful of soup and closed his eyes. Fresh tomatoes. Herbs. Spices. It was just what he needed after a long day at the office and a miserable commute by train. “And you are an angel for making this for me.”

“I will make sure to remind you of that when we go gift shopping,” you remarked merrily. 

Soup went down the wrong way when he laughed. “Make sure that you do,” he managed between a fit of coughs. It cleared soon enough, and he returned to his meal. The soup continued to be a feast for the senses, as were the sandwiches that followed. The bread was crisp and warm, and the cheese melted in his mouth with each bite. Fingon then helped himself to more soup, and brought a second serving for you as well.

Dinner passed in companioble silence for a while. You then asked Fingon about his day and about his journey home. He grumbled about work and about the new troubles with his half-uncle. Then he complained about the project that had to be completed before he left for home. Finally, he turned to the weather.

“It started snowing an hour before I left work,” he continued, “and it continued to snow during the train ride home, and it was still snowing when I walked here. And it looks like it is going to keep snowing until tomorrow morning. At least I do not have to worry about going to work tomorrow or the days after that.”

"Well, I know of something that could put you in a much better mood than the soup,” you decide and return to the stove. The smell of soup slowly gave way to the sweet redolence of cocoa and chocolate and milk. Fingon pushed the bowl away from him, so eager was he to accept the steaming mug of hot chocolate you poured for him. He clapped his hands with glee when you sprinkled tiny spheres of white marshmallows on top, then grated nutmeg over them.

“Hot chocolate,” you smiled indulgently, “and marshmallows. Just like I promised. Because I am, as you say, an angel. Remember that when we do go gift shopping.”

A great deal wiser this time, Fingon waited till his laughter died before taking that first sip.