#blackberry swirl

[cathrynvirginia]

Blackberry Mascarpone Tart with Thyme Shortbread Crust Shortbread that is buttery and slightly thyme-flavored, topped with a sweet mascarpone cream and a stunning blackberry swirl. With this summer tart, you'll be sure to impress your guests!

[sandorcsudai]

Blackberry Mascarpone Tart with Thyme Shortbread Crust - Desserts - Tarts Buttery shortbread with a hint of thyme, topped with a sweet mascarpone cream and a beautiful blackberry swirl. You'll be sure to impress your guests with this summer tart!

[fullcravings]

Vegan Oatmeal Berry Swirl Ice Cream Sandwiches

[scryingworkshop]

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fic idea: Keep the God Kid Busy!

So the JL are messing around with magical artifacts that shouldn't be. Well, it's more like they stopped a considerable cult that was running around killing people across multiple countries, which made it hard to pin them down. Thankfully, they finally gather all of their ritual stuff and are now placing it in the storage on the watchtower to study and safeguard.

Someone accidentally activates something- I'm thinking Booster gold or maybe plastic man?-by touching it with a hand bleeding from a paper cut. They didn't think it was going to affect anything, but suddently the large slap of stone with unknown writing starts glowing glowing then its starts leaking oozing green goo and everyone panics. They call in Batman assuming he know what to do.

And he does.

He calls John Constantine who looks at the slab with a confused frown. It's not that he can't read it, but rather it's confusing to read.

""I'm here to protect but only if you text," John reads out loud. When the others give him looks, he raises his hands. "Word by word, I swear. But this is thousands of years old. Older than Göbekli Tepe, so I don't understand why this being knows the word text."

"Could they have meant text as in a ancient writing?" Batman asks.

"Not with the cellphone next to it" and now that Constantine points it out, the hieroglyph next to the writting, does look like a old cellphone- not a flip phone but a early design of blackberry.

"What is the slab of stone doing?"

"Summoning a Ancient" Constantine says

Wonder woman freezes "A God!? It's getting a God"

The ooze raises turning into a swirling portal right above the ground. A few of heros feel a odd sense of danger and comfort coming from it. Constantine sighs rubbing his eyes.

"Yeah and he's almost here. So we should think of what to say instead of oops it was a accident"

And just like that Danny Phantom, High King of the Dead, is standing above the stone looking around wide

The ooze raises turning into a swirling portal right above the ground. A few of heros feel a odd sense of danger and comfort coming from it. Constantine sighs rubbing his eyes.

And just like that, Danny Phantom, High King of the Dead, is standing above the stone, looking around with comprehensive eye

"Omg, is the world ending?! The Justice League summoned me cause the world is ending, right?! I'm ready! I'm so ready! LETS DO THIS"

It seems Danny Phantom is also a really excitable being. It's a bit unnerving how it reminds them of Klarion the Witch Boy

The justice league, in order to avoid offending the highest god just make up a random emergency at Constantine recommention because higher beings do not like being called for no reason.

They call in the rest of the league to keep up the lie in a controlled environment and soon are taking him across the world helping with "disasters."

Danny is meanwhile fanboying out because it's the JUSTICE LEAGUE. They called him! He was helping BATMAN :D!

He takes a selfie with the big bat in the background and texts it to Tucker and Sam, throwing peace sign.

His friends respond with lots of excited emojis.

[cloudcountry]

auburn's 3k followers bake sale!! (lasts from july 24st to august 6th)

order a baked good, get a complementary drink & fic! menu below!

(thank you all so much for 3k!! ever since getting back into the twst fandom after a six month break, ive been reflecting on my time here a lot. i feel like the twst fandom is one of the few fandoms that i'll actually be able to look back on fondly and feel comfortable doing so. i've been connected to all of these character for about 3 years now and now 2 years with you guys. i know some of you may think i'm scary but i encourage you to take part in this event ^^ it wouldn't the same without you <3 and while im at it, thanks for 3,100 followers too!!)

MENU!

complimentary drinks

romantic content - your choice of bubble tea

platonic content - your choice of coffee

familial content - your choice of water, milk, or juice.

after making your selection, please pick a cup for your drink!!

fluff - mostro lounge™ sponsored collaboration cup

angst - special 3k event cup with cat cap

heartslabyul

riddle rosehearts - strawberry macarons (set of two)

trey clover - mini lavendar cream cake

cater diamond - chewy ginger cookies (set of two)

deuce spade - chocolate chip cookies (set of two)

ace trappola - apple muffin with streusel

savanaclaw

leona kingscholar - chocolate swirl bread slices (set of two)

ruggie bucchi - lemon poppyseed muffin

jack howl - peanut butter cookies (set of two)

octavinelle

azul ashengrotto - lavender honey galette

jade leech - almond mushroom cookies (set of four)

floyd leech - stained glass cookies (set of two)

scarabia

kalim al-asim - sweet bread slice with icing (set of two)

jamil viper - slice of baklava

pomfiore

vil schoenheit - bowl of blackberry crisp (optional vanilla ice cream)

rook hunt - plum macarons (set of two)

epel felmier - apple slice rose puff pastry

ignihyde

idia shroud - pudding filled dirt cupcake

ortho shroud - dirt cookies (set of two)

bubble tea not available with ortho set!!

diasomnia

malleus draconia - slice of dark chocolate truffle cake

lilia vanrouge - slice of tomato soup cake

silver - mixed berry crisp (optional vanilla ice cream)

sebek zigvolt - slice of dark chocolate swirl pound cake

staff

crowley - fudgy dark chocolate cookies w/ edible gold shine (set of two)

crewel - slice of dark chocolate & white chocolate pound cake

trein - raspberry hand pies (set of two)

vargas - high-protein blueberry oat muffin

sam - spicy chocolate truffles (set of four)

secret menu

neige leblanche - apple dumplings (set of two)

chenya - colorful "eat me" cookies (set of three)

rollo flamme - croissants (set of two)

fellow honest - quilt cookies (set of two)

please note any other personalization requests you would like to add to your order, such as tropes (i.e. enemies to lovers), genderbent characters (i.e. fem!riddle), and any other requests you may have!

[fbfh]

curiosity is a wonderful thing - ch. 7

wc: 2.4k

genre: slowburn, friends to lovers, fluff

pairing: audrey x ben, eventual ben x daughter of alice!reader

warnings: none I don't think?? the word biznautch (which is not a word but I'm sure tuco and saul would disagree)

summary: you and ben catch up while you walk around campus. you talk about the isle kids, and ben wishes desperately he could be as close to you as he wants to.

song recs: honey and the bee - owl city, galactic bloom - bee and puppycat ost

a/n: huzzah i am back from the dead!! (sort of). anyway definitely expect a slow trickle of sporadically posted long form fics and regularly scheduled drabbles and asks. love you guys. love that you love curiosity as much as I do. here's a fit. as a treat. :* (also expect things to get real dramatic real quick)

TAGS @yesv01 @magcon7280 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sunshineangel-reads @dustyinkpages @inejsknifes @tulipmagnoliaisme @ev3ningrain

After the next day, things begin to settle down and go back to normal. The Isle kids start their remedial goodness classes, the boys try out for sports, and Mal tags along with Evie as she socializes between class periods. You find yourself running between campus and your dorm where you’d forgotten your report on your desk after the late night before, and end up feeling that you’re quite discombobulated for most of the afternoon. Ben, of course, is as busy as ever. You don’t think you’ve seen each other for more than two seconds today, and you can’t say you like when things get all frantic like this.

After classes, and after your quick detour to Wonderland, and after Ben’s meeting with Fairy Godmother and tourney practice, you try to figure out what to do until the junior royal council meeting today. Audrey will be there - if she decides to show up, that is. You also received RSVPs from Aziz, Jordan, Lonnie, and Herkie. The main topic of discussion for this meeting will be to plug in with them and get an idea of how the student body is feeling with the addition of the Isle kids to the school. If there are no major delays, Ben and Herkie should be able to get back to tourney on time to get ready for the match later. It’s going to be a huge deal - the first big game of the year - and the whole school is buzzing with excitement. 

You sit at a table outside by the school’s hedge maze, sipping some tea as you finish your homework. It’s peaceful, and the weather is ambient. Your mind zips and buzzes around like a bread and butterfly, flitting between your history of magic worksheet, where you’ll explore next time you can sneak off to Wonderland, how Ben is doing - and by proxy, how the Isle kids are doing. A warm breeze passes by you, and you can smell flowers as it swirls around. Hydrangeas maybe? No, lilacs. Definitely lilacs. You hear footsteps approaching down the cobblestone path leading to the gardens and hedge maze. When you look up, you’re surprised to see Ben in his tourney uniform. 

“Ben!” You exclaim happily, standing up and scurrying over to greet him. He opens up his arms to wrap you in a big, warm hug. He’s a little sweaty from practice, but he doesn’t smell bad. You don’t think Ben ever smells bad (maybe a little bit like wet dog when he goes swimming, but it’s not overbearing or unpleasant.)

“What are you doing here?” You ask, wondering if he’ll be able to meet all the tasks on his agenda without running late. He shrugs a little, smiling as he pulls away.

“I was nearby, I thought I’d stop by for a few minutes before getting changed for the junior council meeting.”

You smile up at him with a knowing, appreciative look. His dorm is nowhere near the gardens, and seeing you was definitely not along the way. But your heart warms that he still took some time out of his blackberry jam-packed schedule to stop by and see you. You know if you don’t walk him back to campus he’ll never get changed in time, so you gather up your stuff, tucking it somewhat neatly back in your teapot bag. 

“Well, your timing couldn’t be more impeccable, as I was just about done out here.” 

Ben chuckles a little, and you walk alongside each other towards the rest of campus. 

“So, how did tourney practice go?” You ask. You know the whole team is really excited for this game, but they’ve been putting a lot of pressure on themselves too. Ben takes in a breath before replying.

“I think we’re just about as ready as we’ll ever be.” You nod, humming in agreement as he continues. “I mean, running drills and plays is great, you can never practice enough. But unless we can actually apply the plays on the field the way we do them during practice - on a good day, at least-” 

You chuckle with him, remembering all the stories of how questionably tourney practices can end up when the other players are more focused on goofing off than improving their skills.

“That’s when we’ll actually see some improvement.” 

You nod in approval. 

“Hopefully Chad will learn how to actually complete a pass, too.”

A loud laugh bursts out of Ben. He never would have said it outloud, but you both know you were thinking it. “Yeah,” he agrees with a chuckle, “that- that would be a very good day.” 

He glances down at you, walking close beside him. Just like how you always seem to know just what he’s thinking, he’s gotten pretty good at reading your mind in that same way. He knows the question that’s rolling around the tip of your tongue, itching to get out. 

“The new transfers are doing well, too.” He nods. 

You’ve both heard countless people calling them the Isle kids, and it seems to be catching on. You and Ben had both hoped that they would be known as transfer students at most - the whole point is to help them assimilate to become part of Auradon, not constantly remind them of the past. But if there’s one thing you and Ben both know about people and politics, it’s that you can’t control public opinion. Or word of mouth. As long as they’re not bothered by it, you and Ben don’t feel it’s any issue, but you still call them transfers out of habit when speaking to each other. You just hope they’ll trust you enough to express any discomfort or upset that might arise. 

“Jay has been… crushing it at tourney.” He says with a slight chuckle and disbelieving shake of his head. 

“I can’t believe he hadn’t had an opportunity to play before now,” you agree. “Imagine how great he’d be if he’d been recruited before now.”

Ben agrees, and a resolute silence settles over the two of you for a moment. If he keeps playing and improving like he has been, Jay could easily land a spot on a pro tourney team after graduating. Ben wouldn’t be surprised if he was recruited before then. If he had been given an opportunity to play before now, he would practically have a guaranteed career handed to him. Probably more than one. It’s so terrible that his talent was wasted before now, and if he hadn’t pushed for this proclamation… 

Ben’s mind begins to wander back to the other poor kids stuck on the Isle. He knows they’re meant for more than that, that there are future doctors and activists and artists walking around there every day. Future friends that he can easily see growing into established pillars and cornerstones of the community. He gets that ache in his chest, that impulse to just say fuck it and bring everyone over at once. He curbs it as soon as it shows up. He knows that the way to make that happen, the way to repay them for all their unnecessary suffering is to make sure he puts in the work right here, right now. If he wants to bring more people over - which he fully intends to do - he has to make sure that the first four succeed. 

“Oh,” he starts, pulling out of his train of thought, turning his attention back to you. “And Carlos?”

You look at him, eager to know how he’s doing.

“You’re never going to believe this,” he starts with a chuckle, “Carlos and Duke have been inseparable for the better part of a week.” 

He watches you closely as he speaks, not wanting to miss the moment when you realize how great this is. He watches as your eyes widen and you let out a delighted gasp. 

“Really?” You exclaim. Ben is already nodding, smiling right along with you, swept up in your infectious joy.

“Yeah, I-I couldn’t believe it, I mean, he was terrified of dogs - his mother called them…” he struggles for a moment to remember the exact phrase Carlos had used. “Rabid pack animals.”

“What?” You can’t believe anyone would hate animals so much, especially enough to make someone else so deathly afraid of them. “Why on earth would she-” 

“I don’t know.” Ben finishes for you. 

“Sounds like-” 

Something Audrey would say.

You catch yourself, thinking better of it before completing the thought. 

“Oh,” you pretend to interrupt yourself with a more important thought, “how is Evie doing? She was having a difficult time in class today.” 

Ben nods sadly.

“Yeah. I spoke to Doug about it. She, uh- she was reading her answers off of something.”

“She’s probably nervous.” You add. “I mean, education isn’t exactly the Isle’s top priority…”

It’s the understatement of the century, and Ben quickly sees where you’re headed with that. If none of the Isle kids were ever in an appropriately challenging or attentive academic setting, of course Auradon Prep would be overwhelming. Ben nods, realizing the same thing.

“I’ll work with the faculty- see if I can set them up with some tutors once they’re a little more… settled in.” 

You nod, about to say something when you pause in your tracks. Ben stops, looking back at you and wondering what he missed. Before he can ask, you let out a sigh.

“Look at this!” You exclaim, gesturing to a section of brick wall encasing a topiary. It’s been painted in shades of green, purple, and black spray paint, expertly crafted into a dynamic dragon silhouette. You turn back to Ben, frustrated at all the potential going to waste on the Isle. 

“Please tell me she’s signed up for some sort of art class.” You ask, somewhat rhetorically.

Ben follows your gaze, noticing the paint that now decorates the previously barren wall. 

Ben chuckles a little, agreeing with you. 

“I’ll be sure to-”

“Oh! Did I tell you?” You exclaim, suddenly remembering something you’d been desperate to tell Ben earlier that day. Ben, used to all sorts of interesting twists and turns in conversations with you, simply files his thought away on a little post it note in his brain, and turns his attention back to you.

“I don’t know, did you?” He asks, somewhat rhetorically. 

“Do you remember how I told you about the wildflowers and their song recitals?” 

“Of course,” he nods. How could he forget anything you tell him? Especially when it’s about Wonderland?

“The poppies and the peonies have begun to argue over who’s going to sing the alto solo in the second verse.” You state as intensely and dramatically as if you were recounting the most mind boggling argument you’ve ever seen. As you recount the increasingly petty arguments between the flowers, the clashing of their personalities, Ben realizes this probably is the most mind boggling drama you’ve ever seen. 

Ben listens intently as you describe the clashing personalities of and different cliques forming among the Wonderland wildflowers. His heart sinks a little in that way it always tends to when you talk about Wonderland. He wishes he could go there with you. It breaks his heart that he’ll never be able to see it first hand, that you’ll never get to show it to him. He wants more than anything to be able see where you’re from, to take it the wonder. He knows how much it would mean to you, which is more than reason enough. Besides, he feels like if he could just go there, if he could stand in the same place where you feel most at home, he feels like he could really, finally understand it. Understand you. 

But he knows it’s too dangerous. You both do. He just wishes you had someone to protect you, to keep you safe. 

“Is it dangerous there?” He had asked you once. “No.” You’d replied with a coy smile. “Not if you know what you’re doing.”

“Do you?” He had teased. You laughed. You nudged him with your shoulder. 

“As much as I know my tea.” 

That settled it for him.

He knows that even if you did have some sort of bodyguard with you down there with you, you’d be the one protecting them. 

“Oh, by the by,” your voice pulls him from his train of thought as you approach the school. “Don’t worry about those papers for the next council meeting, I’ll drop them off for you.” 

He had completely forgotten about that. 

“Are you sure?” He starts to ask, but you’re already playfully waving his concern away. 

“Pish tosh.” You state.

“Okay…” he concedes, chuckling at your turn of phrase. 

“I wasn’t done.” You state, with a humorously serious expression. 

“Pish tosh, fish wash, bish bosh, coin toss.” 

His chuckle has turned into full blown laughter.

“Car floss, hair loss, kiss squash, witch watch, biznautch.” You finish. “It’s bad luck not to say the whole thing.” You counter. 

“I’ll… I’ll remember that, bunny.” You nod your head curtly. “Here, uh-”

He fumbles through his bag for the papers to hand you, which you accept happily. 

“Right…” you tuck them into your teapot, pulling out your messy, worn in planner. It always has a million things sticking out of it and falling out from between the pages. Every time you take it out, Ben thinks it looks so… frazzled. 

“Right right right,” you mutter, making a noise when you find what you’re looking for. “So. I drop off the papers, check on the party planning committee, then a quick dip down and back in time for the tourney match.” 

You look at Ben for approval, making sure you hadn’t forgotten something. He nods.

“Yes. And I am going to go check on the transfers-”

“Text me and update, please?” You ask sweetly. Ben knows you don’t have great reception in Wonderland - but more than that, you usually wind up so engrossed that you forget you even have a phone. Despite this, you love coming back up to Overland to be met with a flurry of texts from Ben. Random thoughts, reminders he worried he’d forget, and anything else flitting across his mind between when you left and where you were.

“Of course,” Ben smiles, then continues. “Check on transfers, meet up with Audrey, warm up and practice with the team, then it’s game time.” 

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You state, reassuring him you’ll be back in time no matter what. You look down at the rabbit hole opening up at your feet, then back up at Ben.

“Either of them.”

[daily-deliciousness]

Swirled blackberry lavender sheet cake

[fattributes]

Blackberry Swirl Ice Cream

[sailorgoon13]

Sebastian Sallow

Basics:

Full Name: Sebastian Sallow

Nickname: Seb, Sebby, or whatever clever name Ominis comes up with

Gender: Male

Date of Birth: 18 November, 1874

Heritage: Scottish

Blood Status: Pure Blood

Wand: Yew, Dragon Heartstring, 11", Slightly Yielding

Appearance:

Hair Color: Chestnut Brown

Eye Color: Rich Dark Brown

Skin Tone: Fair

Height: 5'11"

Body Type: Athletic and lean. Agile

Style: White button-down shirt and green tie. Suit jacket, in shades of dark green or silver. When not at Hogwarts he wears something practical and relaxed. He isn't one for fashion, just as long as he looks like he tried then it is an accomplishment

Features: Freckles!! His hair falls effortlessly over his forehead in waves. The natural, slightly unkempt style of his hair reflects Sebastian's casual confidence and rebellious spirit

Personality:

Traits: Charismatic, Determined, Optimistic, Fearless, Protective, Complex

Likes: Knowledge, Dueling, Quidditch, Forbidden Magic

Dislikes: Failure, Authority, Uncertainty, Injustice, Goblins

Hobbies: Crossed Wands, Quidditch, Breaking into the Restricted Section

Fears: Anne dying, Being sent to Azkaban, Ominis and Y/N hating him

Family and Friends:

Father: Unknown

Died when he and Anne were young

Was a Professor

Mother: Unknown

Died when they were young

Was a Professor, as well

Siblings: Anne Sallow (Twin)

Was always Sebastian's best friend

When she became cursed, it hurt Sebastian more than it hurt her

Friends: Ominis Gaunt, Y/N

Magic:

Special Abilities: Mastery of Unforgivable Curses, skilled duelist,

Boggart: Solomon

Patronus: Beagle

Polyjuice: It would have a deep, ebony color with swirling wisps of silver or green and would look like a syrup or a molasses. Smell smoky incense and the faintest trace of something sweet and floral. There is a sharp tang of bitterness with a lingering sweetness, like the taste of ripe blackberries.

Amortentia: Old books, Smoke from a campfire, Salty sea air and Cedar

Backstory:

Sebastian and his twin sister Anne grew up in the Scottish countryside, under the guidance of their parents who were esteemed professors. From a young age, their parents instilled in them the value of knowledge, curiosity, and the pursuit of truth. Sebastian admired his parents deeply, wanting to have their optimism, open-mindedness, and boundless eagerness for learning.

Tragedy struck when a lamp in their cellar, tainted with an undetectable toxin, claimed the lives of their beloved parents. Orphaned, Sebastian and Anne were taken in by their uncle Solomon Sallow, who lived in the secluded village of Feldcroft. However, their relationship with their uncle was strained; Solomon, a stern and unforgiving man who was also an ex-Auror had clashed with Sebastian's refusal to accept Anne's situation.

During this time, Sebastian found peace in the companionship of his friend, Ominis Gaunt, who he met in their first year at Hogwarts. Along with Anne, the trio would often retreat to the hidden sanctuary of the Undercroft, where they practiced spells and played Gobstones, shielded from the prying eyes of the world above. Ominis, like Sebastian, harbored secrets and shadows of his own, forging a bond of trust that endured more than most.

As Anne's condition worsened, Sebastian's desperation drove him to the forbidden arts of the Dark Arts, seeking a cure that eluded even the most skilled healers. When Solomon intervened, tensions reached a boiling point, resulting in a fateful confrontation that shattered their already fragile family.

Despite the turmoil, Sebastian found comfort in his friendships, including one with a fellow student, MC. Their bond, forged in the pain of their fifth year, provided Sebastian with a glimmer of hope in the darkness that threatened to consume him.

Amidst the chaos and upheaval of his adolescence, Sebastian found refuge on the Quidditch pitch, channeling his inner turmoil and anguish into the fierce competition of the game. Joining the Slytherin Quidditch team as both a Beater and Keeper, he found fleeting moments of freedom and purpose in the rush of wind and the thunder of the Quaffle.

Academics:

Best Subject: DADA

Favorite Subject: DADA

Favorite Professor: Hecat

Worst Subject: Astronomy

Least Favorite Subject: Divination

Least Favorite Professor: Onai

Student Life:

Despite his penchant for rule-breaking and his involvement in dark magic, Sebastian was a dedicated and studious student. He excelled in his classes, particularly DADA and Potions

His rebellious nature often landed him in hot water with the faculty. His frequent detentions for sneaking into the library's Restricted Section became a badge of honor

To find a distraction from all of his inner turmoil, he joined the Quidditch team and found it to be a good way to release his emotions

**All screenshots are mine, collage is mine but pictures used were found on Pinterest**

Template: @hazyange1s

[aloysiavirgata]

Think maybe Mulder knew Stella from his time in England? 👀

“Hello, Mulder,” she says, in her silk and sandpaper voice. “Fancy meeting you here.”

As though he hasn’t met her here before, as though his subconscious hadn’t sent him this way for her Hitchcock hair and her Hepburn timbre. He hasn’t worn the Stonehenge Rocks hat, thank goodness.

“How long has it been?” he asks, over Phoebe and Diana and Scully - Scully, like a bruise whose tenderness he keeps testing with a finger. He knows, nearly to the month, how long it’s been.

But he asks.

“Back over a year and in and out of weeks and through a day,” Stella murmurs. She sips at the rock glass with her mouth like a damask rose. Blouse the color of old blood.

“‘Til he came to the place where the wild things are,” Mulder finishes, dreamy and wistful for the past and the future.

Stella makes a liquid sound. “You look good, Fox. Phoebe still misses you. Phoebe will always miss you.”

“I’m sure her aim’s getting better,” Mulder says.

Stella laughs into the sweet blackberry dark, the fiery gold of her drink. “I heard about your partner,” she says. “She desperately in love with you yet, Fox? Phoebe said she was quite devoted already a few years back, but you know how Phoebe is. A bit histrionic.”

He coughs a little. “We parted badly last time, Phoebe and I.”

“I heard,” Stella says. “Even I know better than to fuck victims, for heaven’s sake.”

She raises her brows for punctuation. Her eyes cooler than Scully’s, more calculating, however big and blue.

Mulder shakes his head. Good old Stella. He knows perfectly well she’d never get away with being so outspoken if she didn’t look like she does. The fact that Stella is perfectly aware of this pleases him. He knows his own Halo Effect as well, has exploited it shamelessly. Stella, like him, is a survivor.

“I’ve missed you too.” She winks for the fun of it. Mulder wonders how many poor bastards are desperately in love with Stella. He thinks Phoebe might have been, at a time.

“No you haven’t,” he says warmly. She is playful, but always honest.

“No, I haven’t.” she admits. “But I do now that I remember…aspects of you.” She makes a lazy circle with her tongue against the inside of her sculpted cheek.

Jesus, Stella! He blushes.

“I heard your partner is a doctor though,” Stella muses, swirling her ice. “I suppose she knows all the fun bits.”

“We haven’t…Phoebe doesn’t…” Mulder shakes his head again.

“Oh. Well. You around tonight?” she asks, direct as ever.

He is, he technically is, and he doesn’t have what it takes to say no to Stella or yes to his longing for his partner.

“Stella…” he says, low, hardening, remembering the sinuous machinery of her body, the way she left him both deeply satisfied and profoundly alone.

She gets to her feet, Detective Gibson, nudges his thighs apart with hers.

Mulder puts his hands at her hips, their roundness always surprising in such a small woman. She is pressed between his knees like a plucked flower. He touches her, draws her close. She smells like good breeding and warm silk and forgetting.

“What is it, Stella?” he murmurs. Remembers the constellation of freckles along her sternum, the taut vellum of her belly.

A whiff of her skin when she leans forward, a kiss of her platinum hair on his cheek. She presses her mouth to his, darts her tongue against his lips. Stella, Stella, this is what he needs to avoid the hard choices at home. Stella like an Akhal-Teke, lean and golden and rare. Riding her for miles.

“Go home,” she murmurs, her sweet, peaty breath in his mouth. “You’re absolutely useless, darling.”

He is stung. “Stella, I-“

“Let’s not spoil the memories, hmm?” she says. “Go tell her.”

“I don’t -“

Stella’s immaculate finger at his mouth.

She leaves cash at the bar, saunters out from between his legs without ever looking back.

[oneknightstand-if]

What is everyone's favorite ice cream flavour? Also, their opinion on mint and chocolate chips ice cream?

Meh Human Food: Merlin, Vivian, 4̶0̷4̸ ̸E̷r̴r̸o̵r̷ ̸N̸o̶t̶ ̵F̶o̴u̴n̴d̸

Adrian: Vanilla. Actually Mexican Chili Chocolate.

Arthur: What in all the mortal realms is "ice cream"? (He'd go through & try every flavor in the ice cream store if any ice cream stores still exists by the time he wakes up)

Percy: Laffy Taffy Mystery Swirl

Cassandra: Is too busy trying to deduce hidden personality traits revealed by people's favorite ice cream flavors which is why she isn't telling you anything.

Gwen: Carte D'or Indulgent Chocolate

Lorelei: Prefers fresh fruit sorbets to ice cream, particularly berries such as raspberries, strawberry, blackberries etc.

Broderick: Actually Vanilla. Or more specifically Haagen Daz's Vanilla Bean. 

Mint Chocolate 👍: Adrian, Arthur, Percy, Cassandra, Gwen

Mint Chocolate Exists: Lorelei + all the Meh Human Food people

Mint Chocolate 👎: Broderick (You fools! It tastes like toothpaste!)

[unecoccinellenoire]

I wish you would write a fic where Gabriel, Adrien, and Nathalie get ice cream from Andre Glacier and Gabriel’s ice cream reflects Nathalie, not Emilie

It had seemed like a good idea; Nathalie had needed reassurance after being akumatised so Adrien thought to ask, and his father was being unusually attentive and indulgent so for once he could ask an expect a yes.

In fact the sound of André Glacier calling out his wares in front of the manor had seemed like fate.

Nathalie hadn't been happy with his father at breakfast, Adrien wasn't stupid enough not to see that, but his father had clearly been making an effort to win her back over- including finally acknowledging her as part of the family even if he wasn't quite ready to admit they were dating yet despite the ring he'd given her.

The two of them sharing ice cream meant for lovers should have been the ideal way to get them to reconcile, keep Nathalie from being akumatised again in her fragile state and prevent his father from falling back into the pit of grief he'd only just managed to claw his way out from.

But even as Adrien was staring at his own familar bowl of blackberry, blueberry, and strawberry choc chip and trying to convince itself that it wasn't necessarily Ladybug- that the it could be Marinette's hair and eyes and the spots in the red meant nothing his father's hand slammed down on the counter.

"That's the wrong one," He snapped at the ice cream seller. "Peach and Mint, that's what you always give me." Adrien looked up to see a bowl that looked nothing like that.

It actually looked not dissimilar to his own, the same small scoop of blueberry sat on top but-

"No, this is right," André said, "you need something a little different now, cranberry for-"

"How things have soured between us? I'm no fool I can see who this is meant to be,"

Nathalie, it had to be. As if there was any question that it those colours for his father could be anyone else the swirl of red sauce on the dark blue sorbet matching the streak on her hair made that clear.

"Isn't that a good thing?" He interupted his father, "that,"

"That it can change?" His father snarled back, "all that establishes is that this whole thing is a marketing strategy. That it's not your soulmate or the love of your life or whatever ridiculous,"

"Love is not ridiculous," André interrupted, "you can find love again Monsieur Agreste. It finds us all."

"That's-"

"Father," Adrien tried again, "if we don't hurry up then Nathalie will come looking for us."

"I'm sure Nathalie is already watching us," Gabriel spat.

Adrien blinked and stared at his father, "you said all of that knowing she might hear it? How could you? Nathalie loves you, and she's already scared because of her illness- she was just akumatised. How could you be so horrible to her?"

"Nathalie would probably say,"

"That you forget to think about other people." The woman herself startled them.

"You shouldn't be out of the house," Adrien said, feeling his cheeks go hot with embarassment.

"Your father bought me this so I could leave the house," she said, and she held out some notes to André, "here. Give me mine and we'll be gone."

"Ah, mademoiselle," he went to scope up a white ice cream, "for his icy-"

"I don't need the spiel. You've already upset one of us. Just give me something that tastes nice."

The ice cream seller handed it over. Nathalie sighed as she took it.

Once again it was easy to know who it was. Though Adrien wondered at the scoop of what looked like raspberry ripple. It looked just like one of the cravats his father used to favour, but he wasn't wearing it now.

He hadn't in fact ever since he'd finally reached out to Adrien. It didn't make sense that it was the version of his father who hadn't moved on who André had given Nathalie. Maybe Ladybug and his father were right. Making this ice cream man just put the combinations together he wanted. Maybe there was no magic.

"Thank you," Nathalie said. "Let's go."

His father stomped his way back to the house and Adrien just did not get it. No one was saying he didn't love Adrien's maman. And he'd been looked so concerned for Nathalie after his akumatisation. He didn't know how he could treat her like this, react like this now.

"Adrien," he father said suddenly, "go find us napkins. There's some in the kitchen. Nathalie and I will meet you in the garden."

He did as he was told but his father must have misjudged because Adrien was still in earshot when he heard him say, "this means nothing."

"If you say so Gabriel."

"Don't."

"I thought you asked me to call you that."

"You know," his father said, "if I was to believe in this rubbish then that cone of yours would say you still loved me."

"Does it? Or does it say that I loved the man you were."

"You're not-" his father suddenly broke off, "oh god. You are."

"Using that is cheating." Nathalie said.

Adrien frowned and peeked out the door but he couldn't see what "that" she was talking about. It just seemed to be his father and Nathalie holding nothing but their ice creams.

"But then," his father's hold on his ice cream was tight, and Adrien feared he break it, "no. No no, these things can't be real. That's just coincedence. Yours being right doesn't mean mine is."

"Thanks for making it so clear to me," Nathalie says sounding like she's making a company annoucement, "I always wanted to hear you tell me I'm not good enough for you."

His father suddenly burst out laughing. The ice cream fell from his hands to the floor.

Adrien stared in horror. This wasn't even cruelty from his father. There was no taunting in his laughter, it was all hysteria. He looked insane. Possessed.

"You think that's the problem," he said, "oh the things I could do to you Nathalie. They'd make you blush."

"Monsieur Adrien could hear you."

"I told you not to call me that." He grabbed her arm, and Adrien almost throught he was going to kiss her from how close their faces were, "don't you get it Nathalie? I could kill that man for giving me that ice cream today. I could have had this weeks ago and- and things would be different. But he gave it to me when it's too late. When I don't have the time left to-"

"Adrien," Nathalie hissed. "He might still be in the kitchen."

His father let go of her and straightens up. "It doesn't matter. This changes nothing. The only way out is the way it always has been."

Adrien didn't understand. What way out? Why didn't they have time, Nathalie's illness? Or something else?

"You should clean up that mess." Nathalie's eyes flicked to the split ice cream on the floor, the mess that had been supposed to be love for her her, "I'm going to go out after Adrien."

Her words had his feet moving, terror at getting caught moving him despite his broken heart. Something was very wrong, but all he was sure of was that them knowing he'd heard would only make things worse.

[ahtheprettythings]

Swirled Lavender Blackberry Sheet Cake

[fallenclan]

Rotting Berries, by Dice Anon

There are a million stars in the sky tonight.

They dazzle and twinkle without remorse.

A shadow flits across them, wings flapping.

A molding fruit, once ripe, shrivels.

It’s a shame, really.

It could not be stopped.

Cherries die all the time.

Bad harvest, I guess.

A thick branch of belladonna stretches up into the sky.

Woven among blackberries, it goes unnoticed.

It’s oppressive vines, slick with its own venous liquid.

Eyes of sapphire watch. 

“It’s for the good of my berries!” it cries.

Once that was true, but now?

It feels joy at cutting down those taller blackberries.

Its mission was once holy, but now blood covers his twisted crown.

He reaches up to those stars, and bathes himself in their holy light.

Swirls of color, shimmering like bismuth, dance in his vision.

He’s given his whole life to his clan, and taken others for his family.

The stars better welcome him wholeheartedly.

Mold covers his paws.

A carnivorous bird fests upon the flesh of another.

An ouroboro for his own honor.

He will destroy himself and everyone else for his family.

The stars will watch.

He will watch them back.

 -🎲

so. hows moon 222 treating everyone.

(beetle note: AUGHHHH???? dice i think this is my favorite one yet holy shit. "cherries die all the time. bad harvest, i guess" OHHOOOOHO)

[antimonyandthyme]

guanyu/fernando; undercover cop au

Fernando’s out in the phonebooth by the bar, foot tapping a doomed tattoo into the ground. The phone rings, and rings and rings.

Shit’s going to hit the fan.

He tries a second and a third time, and Ron never fucking answers, and Fernando has face up to the fact that his handler might have just upped and left the burner Blackberry and went back to be happy with his wife and kids. While Fernando’s out here, as stranded as a desert island can ever get.

He tries one last time, just for luck.

“Hello?”

It’s not Ron. It’s some—voice Fernando doesn’t even recognize. Young and almost dangerously curious. Some kid stayed too late in the office, trying to impress someone, and hearing the phone on Ron’s desk go off like a fire alarm, one, two, three, four times. Some kid winding up with a mess six feet deep. Shit.  

“Yeah, delivery,” Fernando says sharply, hopes to god whoever is listening follows. “Junkyard Bar by the Highway, you know that one, piece of shit by the side of the road. Baddest place there is.”

A beat, then the kid says, “Understood.”

Either the brightest in the class, or the absolute dumbest.

“I need delivery,” Fernando says again, as two drunk idiots, strapped to the nines, stumble out and pass the phonebooth. “Get me two large fries, a cheeseburger, and a coke.” It’s 24 hours at some fast food joint somewhere. The kid’s going to have to figure it out.

“Need backup?”

“No,” Fernando grits out. He needs a believable way out of this, not for the whole squad to show up and blow his cover. “Just get me my food, and get it fast.”

“I got you,” the voice says and the line goes dead.

Fernando takes a second, breathes. Thinks of every possible way this will end with a bullet in someone’s neck. Down by his boot the dust settles.

He saunters back in. Raises a hand for another drink.

“What d’you order?”

“Cheeseburger and fries,” Fernando shrugs. “Make my life a lot easier if your kitchen still worked.”

“It’s past midnight, asshole,” the bartender says. They thrive on a relationship of annoyance, nothing too friendly, nothing bordering on disdain to make him memorable. Exactly where Fernando needs to be. He sloshes beer down his chin, and the bartender takes that as his cue to find someone else to talk weather with.

Fernando counts the minutes, barely tastes the hops swirling on his tongue. Behind the bar, in the den hiding in plain sight, something’s happening. He clocked it the moment he saw the owner and the man he’d been tailing for a whole nine months slide in fifteen minutes ago. Cash is being exchanged. Hands are being shaken. Throats are being slit.

He squints at the sudden lights flooding through the window. Fernando swallows his pulse.

“That’ll be my fucking dinner,” he announces to no one in particular. He heaves himself off the barstool, pats around fake drunkenly for his wallet in his back pocket. No one pays him a second glance.

The kid’s in a McDonald’s uniform. A uniform. And he’s got a takeout bag in one half-outstretched arm.

Even through the rush of adrenaline now spiking through him, Fernando finds it in him to be wildly, stunningly, impressed. The kid had gotten a fucking uniform.

“Sir, I’m really sorry, but I just realized they sent me out without your fries.”

He was saying it softly enough not to cause a commotion, but loudly enough that there’d be several witnesses.

“Motherfucker,” Fernando says, waiting for his lead.

“I can go back. Or maybe, you could—”

“I’ll come with you,” Fernando interjects, getting the plan immediately, “or I’ll just be sitting here waiting for your sorry ass until I starve.” Slams his beer bottle down with just enough irritation to make it utterly convincing. He’s ornery even on his best days here. The bartender rolls his eyes and goes back to his drinks.

Fucking perfect.

He gets into the kid’s car, a nondescript, unnoteworthy Subaru. As the kid tears off, Fernando says, breathless, “I can’t believe you got a uniform.”

The kid shows his teeth through the rearview mirror. One hand on the wheel, one hand peeling the McDonald’s delivery cap off his head. “Paid for college.”

--

At first impression, Fernando wouldn’t have pegged Guanyu as someone vindictive. But Guanyu, who showed up in a uniform with a crumpled takeout bag, Guanyu, who bailed him out of that bar when Fernando had thought he was fucked all ways to Sunday, is full of surprises.

Guanyu reports Ron for negligence, and takes it up with Homicide, then the Chief, and follows it up and up and up and up, like he’s pulling determinedly at the multi-coloured handkerchiefs coming out of the magician’s bag until he’s convinced he’s got the last one. The information Fernando provides is grade A fuel. The case is now big enough that they’ve got two whole divisions working on it. To save face, the bosses move Ron out of state. Fernando can’t find it in him to care less.

They sit outside in the precinct parking lot, sharing fries.

“I can’t see you having worked here.”

Guanyu laughs. “I lied. I went into the McDonald’s flashing my badge.”

“Guns a-blazing.” My hero.

“I said I needed a uniform. I changed into it, right in front of the cashiers. They looked at me as if I was from another planet.”

Fernando grins into his cheeseburger. If the Chief looked out right now, he’d see his most promising recruit fraternizing with a wounded dog who barely even reads his own name right these days. Not the best look for Guanyu, who knows it, surely. Fernando can’t figure it out. Can’t figure him out.

“So,” Guanyu clears his throat. “It seems like you’re out a handler.”

Fernando shrugs. “I’ll be on loan to whoever wants to keep me.”

“Sounds like a shit deal for you.”

“When is it not?”

Nobody of the right mind works undercover. Fernando’s learned to play cards with the hands he’s dealt.

“It won’t be that way with me,” Guanyu says.

Fernando stares. Way he says it, sounds almost like a proposal.

“It is,” Guanyu says wryly.

“Why,” Fernando says.

“Smart as all hell, and I’ve heard you do it all.”

“Oh,” Fernando says soft, dangerous, “you’ve heard, huh?”

Guanyu has the decency to look slightly ashamed. “Ron didn’t know what to do with you.”

“And you do?”

“I know how to pick up when you call,” Guanyu says. “I know how to heel.”

Fernando wants to shake some sense into the kid. “It’s usually the other way around.”

Guanyu smiles. Something small, something secret. A flash of something curious, like that first Hello? when he’d answered Fernando’s distress signal. How deep into Fernando’s files did Guanyu read? “Not for you.”

“And you’re fine with that,” Fernando says, just short of incredulous. After all, he’s learning Guanyu’s full of surprises. “You’re fine with me going, heel.”

Guanyu goes tight for a quick second. His ears are a little too red for the late summer weather.

Interesting, Fernando thinks.

Fernando holds out his hand. Greasy from the fries they’ve just shared. It takes a moment before Guanyu looks him in the eye.

When he does, that same composure that carried him into the bar that day is back.

They shake.