#call me ms. vanilla soft serve

[rosefinnigen]

i heard u guys like comparisons

beginning of November:

end of November:

(there’s a butt below the cut) (which I only made so I could make this rhyme)

[loosesodamarble]

Welcome to the Black Bird Part 14: Flynn the Bittersweet

Summary: Introducing Gauche as Flynn, the Black Bird's butler with a soft center hidden by a prickly outside. Genre: general Word count: A/N: The art for Gauche was done by @cringeyvanillamilk

..........

[can kids live without adults?]. [leaving foster care early]. [can i adopt my sibling?].

Gauche opened link after link. He scanned each page to find an answer to his predicament. All the legal terminology and procedures made his head spin in confusion. Eventually, he gave up. Gauche stood up with a huff and stomped away from the computer he’d been using. Or he tried to before a hand on his shoulder made him pause.

“Be decent enough to push the chair in after you’ve used it,” Ms. Theresa Rapual, the CPS worker accompanying Gauche, said flatly. “You must respect the library and the other people who use it.”

Grunting, Gauche shrugged off Theresa’s hand and shoved the chair back under the desk. Then he grumpily made his way out of the Tech Rent Lab. Theresa followed after him without a word.

As he walked, Gauche flipped his phone open and stared at his wallpaper. The image depicted him sitting beside his mother and holding Marie, his then infant sister. Marie, both of them really, had been small, innocent, and safe at the time. Gauche shut his phone with a snap. He glanced over his shoulder at Theresa, who raised a brow at him, then hurriedly looked away.

“You look like you have something to ask.” For an old hag, she was sharp. “Well? Don’t just stand there.”

“Tch. You’re only paid to put up with me,” retorted Gauche. However, he couldn’t keep up his rigid grumpiness under Theresa’s strong gaze. “Is there still… something I can do for Marie?”

…..

“Kyaaa! Flynn, you’re looking sharp today!” a girl—high schooler based on her uniform—called out to him as he passed by a table.

“Tch.” Gauche stopped in his stride to jerk his head in the direction opposite. “You think I dressed nice for you? ‘S not like I care what you think…”

“He did the tsun-tsun!” another at the table laughed.

“It is what he’s known for,” the third girl of the group passively remarked.

“Hmph!” Gauche exaggerated his huff as he continued on his way. “Thank you for the compliment by the way!”

The table he came to was occupied by three women: a very short one with black hair up in a tight bun; a rose-haired woman who was beautiful enough to be a model; and a flustered lady with bright blue hair cut in a short bob.

“Madams, welcome to the Black Bird. I’m Flynn.” He lazily dropped the menus on the table. “Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not serving you for the fun of it.”

“I-I’m sorry if we’re a bother!” the blue-haired woman squeaked, making Gauche choke up.

“Uh—!” Gauche blinked a couple of times as he composed himself for a response. “Ah… Urk!” What’s wrong with me? “M-madam! D-don’t apologize!” His declaration made the woman startle and flush in the cutest manner. “I— er—! I-I’m actually happy to be serving you, okay?”

From all around him, Gauche heard the giggles and whispers of other customers as they ate up the unintentional show he’d put on. It made his face grow hot and looking at the woman again made the heat stronger. It was embarrassing, but Gauche didn’t mind. Because this was his job and… the customer was really cute.

…..

Sea Salt Foam. It was by far the most popular of the desserts as it was an ice cream float. It came with a small twist of the ice cream—chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, butterscotch, and caramel as flavor options—having extra salt added in.

From the start, Gauche pushed to make his persona’s menu item be a milkshake, as it was Marie favorite dessert. Even if Gauche wasn’t able to see her in the present, he wanted that small connection to her. He imagined Marie sitting down to enjoy a milkshake, definitely the chocolate flavor and scrunching her nose at the salt in confusion.

Gauche had the same reaction. Desserts were meant to be only sweet in his mind. But then he sampled a prototype version of the dish and was struck by its deliciousness. The way sugar and salt blended on his tongue drew him in to eat more without overwhelming him with one flavor. It was meant to match his tsundere persona at the cafe, or so the dessert chef said.

In a way, though, it felt like a reverse of Gauche and Marie’s situation. The long periods of separation felt harder when contrasted against the short visitation days. A bit of sweetness against bitter loneliness made it easier to endure, as Gauche had the regular reminder of what he was working towards: permanently earning custody of his sister and being able to provide for the both of them.

Still, Gauche wished that his life didn’t have such a complex flavor.

[pinkhairedlily]

Chapter 9 - Student Council President Sakura

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Sasuke wondered for the umpteenth time since three in the morning why he agreed to go with the baseball team for their summer camp and wondered more why the student council had to do its orientation and team building event at the same time. He supposed it was to cut down on expenses, but both trips could have gone on without his presence.

Well, it turned out his shoulders were needed as pseudo pillows for the sleepyheads duo. On one side, he can feel the wetness of Naruto’s drool dripping every minute onto his linen shirt, and on the other, Sakura’s vanilla shampoo was arresting his senses. Five hours after a rough roadtrip, the two awake beside a very grumpy Uchiha.

“I demand a barbecue treat from both of you,” he huffed as they disembarked in front of the groups’ joint headquarters.

His mood soured when Kakashi emerged from the next bus, serving as one of the stand-in guardians for the activities, followed by Hyuuga Hinata. She gave Sasuke a stern nod when their eyes met, and he briefly recounted their interaction while waiting for the rest of the participants.

“Good morning, Ms. Hyuuga,” Kakashi greeted. He waved for her to come closer, and he introduced her to the students. “If you’re not aware, the Sports Council has rolled out funding to under-resourced teams across the state to be particularly used for summer trainings. We’re lucky we’re one of those teams. Joining us as an observer is Mr. Hiashi’s daughter herself, Ms. Hinata, who also happens to study in the same district.”

She generously bowed to everyone with a tight-lipped smile. Later, she assumed a position beside Sasuke.

“If it makes you feel better, I did not orchestrate this,” Hinata said. “And if there’s anything you should now, both sides of that relationship have been hurt, with reasons far from what you’re thinking.” She stopped for a whole minute and breathed in, struggling to keep the tears at bay. “So please, leave me alone.”

Yeah, he was a bit of a jerk to her, Sasuke knew that. But he also knew that Hinata had already developed an affection for the blonde idiot, regardless of her denial. As much as he wouldn’t want to complicate things, he thought it best for now to allow the situation to play out. He had to remind himself that he wasn’t here to entangle himself in someone else’s business.

They settled in the mess hall cum dining area for a quick breakfast and breakdown of house rules. He still needed to get used to the fact that this was Sakura’s last time to be a head organizer for a school activity. She will pass on her reins to the incumbent secretary by the start of the next term. Both him and Naruto knew the extent of her sadness in letting this position go, and even more so the need to look out for her the instance she does her confession.

Yet she hasn’t. So they became unwilling witnesses to this awkward tiptoeing with awareness literally skewed to only one side of the party, and Kakashi showering in ignorance bliss.

They went about their room assignments, and Sasuke, with all his luck in the universe, was stuck with Kakashi and Naruto.

“I won’t ask if it’s possible to trade rooms, but would you care to explain why you don’t have a solo room of your own?” he annoyingly asked the silver-haired man who was nose deep at the moment in a coverless book.

“I’m your guardian, Uchiha,” Kakashi replied while yawning. “I’m gonna go sleep so why don’t you frolick in the ocean with your friends while it’s still your free time?”

Unwilling to spend his time with a man who annoyed him so much for no reason at all, Sasuke trudged off his designated room and followed the many footsteps on the sand. The untrimmed hedges eventually give way to the expanse of the gray ocean, its waves roaring from afar, building up like shifting towers, cresting, and breaking into foam by the time they reach the shore.

Naruto was already neck deep in the waters with the rest of his team, the new captain certainly setting a good camaraderie example. Sakura caught his entrance and waved him over despite the new council members intensely blushing at the sight of him.

“Sasuke!” He heard her call.

But every step he took on the soft sand was like a laboring walk on a cesspool of blood, his parents’ blood.

“The turtle is faster than you, you slowpoke!” Sakura continued her incessant teasing.

Trust me, I’m trying to get to you, he thought. Screams broke out just then.

And he felt like he was being whirled away into the barrel of his repressed memories. He started seeing everything in slow motion.

Naruto shouting cramp cramp cramp, an idiot move that got seawater into his nose, and ultimately made him lose his balance. Quick on her feet, Sakura swam into his vicinity with sure, measured strokes of an experienced swimmer. He heard her scream calm down you blonde idiot! and his teammates were able to usher him out of her hold and onto dry land.

But she didn’t manage to follow safely. She was swimming, but her direction kept on going farther away from the shore. She was caught in a riptide. The screams changed from Naruto’s name to her, the intensity and volume of voices getting stronger with every second.

“Sakura!”

“Miss Pres! Someone! Help!”

“Help please!”

Save her, a voice said in his head. “I can’t.”

Her pink hair looked like a blob riding untethered on the arms of the waves. Yet he was rooted to his spot, his memory spilling over like blank ink. Suddenly he can smell the gasoline in the air and the waves lose their sound, replaced by the gasps and shaky breaths of his parents, and the ticking time bomb of an explosion.

He started to hyperventilate as his sight closed in on him. “Sakura, I’m sorry.”

Fast and light footfalls passed by his side, breaking him out of his reverie, and Sasuke’s eyes opened to a coverless book on the sand, its pages fluttering in the wind.

A silver-haired man dove into the surface with no hesitation, briefly disappearing, and emerging again in a few seconds with an unconscious Sakura safe in his arms. Only then did Sasuke run in haste.

“Give us space!” Kakashi yelled with a sliver of anger and panic in his normally laidback voice.

Sasuke would have to content himself seeing the next events play out in between warm bodies, his heart drowning the waves when he realized she wasn’t breathing and Kakashi had to start chest compressions.

Seconds worth of chances and he stood there waiting again.

She still wasn’t responding.

“Come on, Sakura, breathe,” Kakashi pleaded through gritted teeth. When he counted down to thirty, he leaned down and gave her two rescue breaths.

Still no response.

“Dammit Sakura. Don’t die now.”

Another set of thirty compressions. By the fifteenth try, some council members have broken down and started crying.

“Fuck.” Kakashi did another pair of rescue breaths. Then she vomited water.

“Clear the way!”

A group of paramedics came thanks to Hinata’s calm thinking and took the disoriented pinkette from Kakashi’s hold. Sasuke’s eyes trailed after them, her long pink locks swaying in the wind, and landing on Hinata’s fixated gaze on him, like she knew something he didn’t. Or since then has denied.

--------------------------------

Sakura refused Kakashi’s instruction to go home. It was a close call, but she needed to see through a good transition in the student council, and a productive summer training camp for the baseball team.

“I’ll inform your parents then,” Kakashi said with a steely anger in his voice she was unfamiliar with. At whom it was directed she’ll never know.

“Ah, no need, I already called them,” she lied through gritted teeth. He responded with a brow raise but let it go for now.

“Get some rest, Ms. Pres.”

She did just that, holed up in a room for two days with minimal interaction save for her roommate Hinata who basically sidestepped around her in silence.

“How’s everyone?” Sakura asked her on the third day when she was about to scamper off to her observation duty.

“Your boys wanted to see you,” Hinata said. Sakura wondered if there was a tinge of jealousy in that but she saw the Hyuuga daughter as someone who already has all the good things in life. “But I refused entry since Naruto can be quite noisy and Sasuke is easily riled up nowadays.” Including sensitivity for others.

Hinata continued after giving her a plate of peaches and cranberry juice. “Your student council is still devastated, but they changed up their agenda to include a quick first aid training from a virtual trainer. Baseball team is doing quite well, far better than what I first expected….notwithstanding Haru’s absence.”

She noticed the visible change in Hinata’s expression after she uttered his name. “And how are you?”

The beautiful raven-haired looked at her with eyes brimming in tears. Poor girl never had someone to unload her broken heart to.

“I miss him Sakura.”

Sakura bites down on a slice of peach and taps her finger on one of Hinata’s clutched fist. “Do you still talk?”

Hinata shook her head, her fists clutching then unclasping each other in between pauses. “He was the one who ended the whole thing. Called me up for a date and we went to my favorite café, ordered me my favorite drink, and broke the news that he wanted to break up. He wasn’t angry when he said it, he was weary of everything, and I was hurt more by that fact. After I came home, I learned that he blocked me in all his social media accounts.” She took one slice of peach and stuffed it in her mouth, regardless of the tears that streaked her unmarred face. “I wanted to introduce him to Father, you know. Just until after I graduated so I could at least move away first. If he felt so suffocated by my family, how much more it was for me?”

Sakura puckered her lips with a tint of cranberry juice. “I think you’re both cowards.”

Hinata, who probably expected an empathetic response from Sakura, moved her hand away from Sakura and covered her mouth in surprise.

“It’s true,” the pinkette reasoned out. “Haru is a jerk for leaving all the work to you. He knows of your family so he should have stood up for you if he loved you. But you’re at fault too, Hina, because you know you could have introduced him earlier and faced your father’s wrath together. This gives me Romeo and Juliet vibes.”

“They both die in that story, Sakura.”

“Then West Side Story?” Sakura retrieved Hinata’s hand and put her hand over it. “I’m just saying I hope you find someone willing to take on that risk for you but also allowing you to have your agency to choose and act.”

Hinata doesn’t back away from Sakura’s touch. “You’ve always known what to say since we were in junior high.”

“Well of course! It’s because you and Haru are my friends!” She elbowed Hinata jokingly. “So Naruto?”

Blush bloomed on Hinata’s cheeks with a color far too intense to cover up. “Naruto? What about him?”

“It’s because of his strong people charm, isn’t it?” Sakura smiled, no longer looking at Hinata. “And if Haru had that personality, maybe it wouldn’t be difficult for your father to accept him.”

She was greeted with silence which told her that this was the truth, this was the reason why Hinata craved for his sunshine energy, and the reason why she had always wanted to orbit around him.

--------------------------------

Despite the life-threatening incident that marked the beginning of their excursion, the remaining days have fallen into some sort of normalcy and mundanity. Sasuke, more than he would like to admit, found himself spending more time with the mathematics teacher who was on his second coverless book.

“What’s your bet?” Kakashi asked out of the blue. Prior to this, they shared the silence punctuated with cicadas and the occasional crackling of wood in the campfire.

“Erotica,” Sasuke replied nonchalantly, seated across him on a foldable steel chair.

The teacher almost choked on his water. “What if I tell you it’s a classic lit?”

“A classic erotica literature,” Sasuke insisted. “Because if it is as safe as you said it, you’d leave the cover on because bookworms are snobbish like that.”

Kakashi chuckled. “What a brat. It’s a good thing I’m not a snitch for the school board.”

“You’re just implying they don’t pay you enough.”

“You’re really a brat.”

Again, the silence engulfed them, not much different from the night that lulled everyone to sleep. Sasuke kept his hands inside the pockets of his thin jacket, moving away from Kakashi to return to their room. He debated about this with himself for the last two days, wondering if it would be worth it. “You seem like a good guy despite your reading preferences.”

“Excuse me?” Kakashi’s voice was laced with offence.

“Thanks for saving Sakura.” He realized he was too young, too unreliable, like the kid he was once before. It was just he never grew up.

And the week was done, and time was in constant shift. The reshuffling in classes left him alone, but never that much, not when two extroverts came checking on him at every break. The spot behind the library was still their hidden spot, the dragonboat team was still their background music, and the countless scenes on the side of the lake were still their guilty pleasures of what-ifs.

Maybe every last year of every phase in life ended up going so fast. Like how the baseball team sped through the preliminaries to the nationals in one relentless drive. And yet again, he found himself going back to the same café with his favorite cashier who colored her hair pink.

“You like my new hair?” Sakura teased. “Okay hit me, I’m on a 15-minute break.”

“Stop eating my tomato basil salad first.” Sasuke flicked off her encroaching fingers on his bowl. “The team needs funds. In the board’s defense, they prepared for jersey uniforms, travel assistance, and board and lodging.”

“Up until the semis,” Sakura clarified.

“Unfortunately. What’s the council gonna do?”

“I’m not the president anymore, remember?”

Sasuke sipped his cold americano, looking pointedly at Sakura, who deflected his gaze. He tapped the surface of the table, knowing all too well that she will spill something any second now.

“The council is gonna do a fundraising event,” she finally relented.

“Please don’t tell me it’s another pass-the-hat.”

She shook her head, but if she was at all excited, she didn’t show it. “They’re gonna invite student musicians and do a showcase in the mall park.” She shrugged. “Not my idea and not my place to meddle.”

“You know it’ll be a failure, right?” Sasuke asked. “The crowd and the weekend traffic won’t be worth the effort.”

She sighed in agreement. “Well, Kakashi-sensei greenlighted it. They must have a trump card.”

Sasuke was right for the most part. No one paid them attention, not the crying kids, not the parents rushing for the flash market sales, not the aunties catching up with the newest town gossip. The music club was already halfway down to the set, and Sakura was keeping her head low and hidden in her beret in secondhand embarrassment.

“Please tell me it gets better,” Sasuke almost pleaded

She eyed him from head to toe with a smirk. “We could auction you if you want. Girlies at nine o’clock want your number.”

He rolled his onyx orbs but flushed at her insinuation that he was worth looking at today. It wasn’t his expertise to dress up nor did it come to him to actually buy new clothes in the last three years. He just put on an oversized graphic t-shirt over a pair of jeans and called it a day, and Sakura stood there beside him in her 90s fashion silk blouse tucked into black pants with a leather belt, very much unaware of how she stole attention.

“Let’s leave?” he suggested.

Sasuke lost sight of the crowd when she looped her arm in his as they walked away to the first notes of Flightless Bird, American Mouth. It was sudden, probably on impulse, and not much to Sakura’s thoughts, and maybe those were the reasons why he didn’t pull away from the electricity of her touch.

And maybe he should have walked quicker so she wouldn’t have looked back and seen Kakashi on the piano chair, stroking the keys like that of a lover, and his voice crooning everyone to join his atmosphere.

So while she stood there beside him, all dolled up and beautiful from head to toe, with her arm linked with his in the middle of a gathering crowd, she wasn’t entirely his, her heart not swaying in time with his pulse, but beating instead to the pluck of his chords.

Ah so I really was in love with her. A realization too late and another missed chance to offer her his saving grace.

Two songs later and a beaming Kakashi taking pictures with the audience, Sakura finally unlinked her arm from Sasuke’s, and they walked out of the mall under the threat of impending downpour. With hurried steps and foregone conversations, they managed to reach the shelter of a small shed along the bridge connecting the mall to the train station just before the rain ensued.

“Ah I forgot to bring an umbrella. Funny since it was scorching hot earlier.” She put out her fingers outside the cover of the shed, making contact with the drops. “Like it was sudden and inevitable.”

Sasuke kept mum about the umbrella inside his crossbody bag, wanting instead to drown in the rain with her.

“I wish it was that sudden and inevitable too – falling out of love,” she said as she took her wet hand inside for cover. “Because I’m running out of excuses to not fall further more.”

“You haven’t confessed yet,” Sasuke reminded her. “And we all know how that ends in this setup. You can never be together Sakura.”

“I know.” He heard her choke back a sob.

“I wish I could, Sasuke. But my eyes see him and then my mind plays back a dozen frames of him every second. I really wish I could do just that – fall out of love.”

She gave in to her emotions and cried with abandoned resentment and yet he saw her with rose tinted lenses – still beautiful in the woes of a first love heartbreak. His body started to move on its own, his arms hovering around her, an unspoken question of permission to touch her safe space, and she leaned into his embrace, an equally unspoken consent to envelop her in comfort.

They must have been lovers in the eyes of those under the passing umbrellas. His hug tightened at best, absorbing every convulsion in her small frame like it was his sole function.

“Would you like to use me, Sakura?” he whispered like a prayer he uttered under his breath for the rain to continue and give him a little more seconds, a bit more minutes, an illusion of stranded time with her in his arms.

Pools of emerald looked back at him stricken with fear. “It’s not fair. To you. To me.”

His ember irises held steady. “I don’t mind.”

“I do mind.” She cupped his face, soft yet calloused palms that tether him to this reality. “I do mind so I will not let my broken heart steal your chance at first love.”

But the rain has stopped as sudden as it started and she was out of his hold, running for her dear life out of the cover of the shed, through the bridge and into a train line he couldn’t follow.

But you’re my first love.

AO3 LINK | NEXT CHAPTER | CHAPTER 10

[steveusesfaberge]

Better Parent (pt. i)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Summary: Steve’s approached by the Henderson duo while at work, and can’t help but lose himself in Y/N’s essence. He’s also extremely offended by her notion of claiming she’s the better party parent than himself...do they realize they’re simply an old married couple in the works? Nope.

Type/Style: Imagine, female pronouns

Warning(s): Fluff~, Clumsy Steve heeds all warnings... Oh, and a bit of cursing! >.<

Word Count: 3k

a/n: This is my first published Imagine of Stranger Things! I hope you all enjoy! Please send requests! I’m excited to write for you all! <3

Part 1 (you are here) - Part 2 - Part 3

                                ━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!-- The obnoxious noise of Scoops Ahoy’s service bell sounded off; resulting in the employees’ groaning in irritation. At the moment, Steve was sitting in the small backroom, playing a game of cards with Robin. The said girl peeked out the somewhat cracked sliding shutters and gave a wicked grin in her brunette friend’s direction. Steve raised an eyebrow as he placed his cards face-down on the table (knowing fully that if given the chance, the sneaky co-worker would cheat).

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” He asked with a creeping suspicion. He stretched in his chair, not having the motivation to attend to the customer with the speedy service they were demanding. Robin rolled her eyes. “If you weren’t in here, squatting on your ass - and actually doing your job - you’d realize who our fine customer in waiting is.” At that, Harrington leaned over to see for himself who this ‘fine customer’ indeed was, and when his eyes found his target - Steve practically fell out of his seat. “Y-You--It’s--I’m--wha--,” He was cut off as Robin pulled him to his feet by his shoulders. “Listen, dingus. If you stay here blubbering about it, she’s gonna think you’re irresponsible and can’t hold a job. Can’t have that now, can we?” Steve glared at her for the obvious usage of sarcasm and tease. “Now go,” Robin prodded,” It’s your turn anyway. You owe me from yesterday - leaving me to deal with Ms. Free Samples for an hour.” When he opened his mouth to protest, she shook her head giving him one final shove towards the doorway,” Yeah, yeah, you look great...no one pulls that uniform off like you do,” he didn’t appreciate her banter.

With that, Steve managed to pull himself out of the backroom - his hands nervously tampering with his (ridiculous) outfit; making sure he looked somewhat presentable. Normally, Steve was an ace at socializing - flirting was his forte and there was no denying it. But ever since he graduated...it seemed his high school charm had faded...turning into this...awkward...babysitter of six, ice cream scooping, monster fighting (total badass if you asked Steve), clumsy persona. Not exactly his ideal image of grabbing himself a date.

It was like, his whole game had been thrown off - and he’d complained to the kids more than enough when they ridiculed him for still not having a girlfriend. “Hey! I used to be a chick magnet! -- I-I still am!” “Yeah, yeah - make fun of me! It’s ‘cause of this dumb hat! My hair! -- The hat’s a cockblocker!” Despite his weak attempts at excusing himself; the party always seemed skeptical. Ugh...

“Ahoy, losers! Would you guys like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? -- I’ll be your Captain...what’s up Hendersons?” He greeted in traditional Scoops Ahoy fashion. Dustin always thought it was stupid, but Steve did it nonetheless - as he learned it always earned a giggle from the older Henderson.

“Hey, Steve, we’re just here for our usuals. Dusty’s gonna go hang out with the rest of the crew after this.” His attention was pulled to the girl before him. Simple (y/h/c) hair, (y/e/c) eyes, and a (y/s/t) complexion. Yet, he’d never wanted to run his fingers through someone’s hair so much...and had never wanted to simply stare into someone’s eyes for so long...or touch someone’s perfect, smooth skin--

“Helllllooo? Steve? Earth to Harrington? Did you hear me?” The brunette was snapped from his daze and he winced at the call to attention. “Um, yeah, um, yeah...um..........w-what?” His face heated up as he moved to scratch his neck, his hands then clumsily trying to hold himself up against the counter in the coolest pose he could muster in his flustered state. Dustin groaned, rubbing his eyes as he’d have to re-explain himself, but Steve was only concerned with the beautiful melody of a laugh falling from Y/N’s lips.

“You’re such a dork, Harrington,” she snorted while shaking her head, a hand placed to Dustin’s shoulder. Steve could only offer her a sheepish grin.

“He said, the gang was going to Wheelers’ house after this - and Dusty was asking if you could help me take all the kids there,” she rolled her eyes,” They’re too lazy to ride their bikes back, so we’d have to split them up in our cars.” Dustin pursed his lips, hands crossed over his chest as if saying ‘duh. You’d know that if you’d listened the first time, dumbass’.

“Uh, y-yeah, yeah. S-sure. I’m-m, uh, not doing anything after my shift. So, I’ll take them, yeah.” Dustin couldn’t help but cringe at Steve’s attempt at casualty. Either way, it seemed his sister didn’t even notice.

“Sweet! Glad to have you on board, Captain Steve.” She mused.

“The pleasure’s mine, Missy.” He’d managed the sentence without a hiccup and he was silently thanking his lucky stars. The small smile on her lips had sent him into an overdrive of ecstasy.

“Well anyway - I’d hate to be...that person...but can you get the ice cream now, Steve? I told Lucas I’d be with them...like...seven minutes ago.” Dustin interrupted with a raised eyebrow.

Steve glanced back to the curly-haired kid and nodded while rolling his eyes. “I’m so sorry, good sir. Let me get your dessert ready, heaven forbid those dipshits to wait another second!” Dramatically, he pulled a hand to his head and fluttered his eyelids closed for emphasis. Y/N shook her head, laughing to herself as she pulled the money from her pocket in preparation.

Dustin only groaned in annoyance and made a face at the young man.

Within the next few minutes, Steve had both of their orders made - he didn’t need to be reminded of the order themselves, as both were known by heart. “A banana split, with extra hot fudge, whipped cream, one scoop chocolate, two scoops vanilla, no caramel or peanuts - and yes, the chocolate scoop is bigger than the vanilla,” he placed it down in front of the pair and he saw the surprise on Y/N’s face and he caught the narrow-eyed glance Dustin threw him, as he recited the order perfectly...almost. “Oh, what about the--,” “Side order of chocolate chips? To, y’know, sprinkle on yourself?” His hand came up to do the motion of ‘sprinkling’; then adding a crooked smile the order was complete.

“And a regular sundae for my man,” he slid the other half of the purchase over while Y/N was still trying to overcome her shock.

“How...did you remember all that?” She asked while quirking an eyebrow.

Since the conversation began, Steve had slowly gained some of his cool and confidence. At least he was able to keep his words from tumbling over one another like a race to the finish line...

He shrugged. “I figured I’d remember it since it’s so complicated. Besides, you come in here like...every day, every other day...if I didn’t remember it, I’d be stupid.” She only grinned.

“If you didn’t know it by now, I’d think you were stupid too. How long have we been friends, Harrington? Two...three years?” Y/N questioned while holding out the exact amount of money to pay for the said ice cream.

“Have fun, lovebirds - I’m gonna find the others,” Dustin grumbled, excusing himself from what he thought, was an awkward conversing between sibling and best friend/idol.

Steve and Y/N only blushed at the notion of lovebirds, looking away from one another in the process. “That’ll be five-forty-seven, right?” Y/N said, clearing her throat. “Normally, yeah. But this one’s on the house.” Steve replied with a soft smile.

“You sure?” Y/N questioned, money still hanging in the air, her words slow.

“Yup,” he popped the ‘p’ and gave a nod to reassure her.

“Since when was Steve Harrington so nice?” She asked while giving him a fake dubious glance. Moving to stand to the side of the counter, in case someone else came in to be served.

Steve lifted a hand to his chin, as if in thought, and then leaned his arms on the counter’s surface. “I dunno...since, maybe...he realized he needed to be?”

He knew he hadn’t always been the best...erm...person. Steve was well aware of how much of an ass he’d been in the day, and so for him to give her such an answer - it was probably more sincere than she was expecting. Which was why he felt the need to have been nicer sooner; as the small lift of her lips had his knees go weak.

He watched as Y/N placed the spoonful of custard in her mouth, the short silence between them not uncomfortable in the slightest. They spent plenty of time together - from chaperoning the children to hanging out one-on-one, and even fighting off Upside Down nightmares together... If anything, Steve shouldn’t have an issue with talking to her at all. Yet, he did...because...well...who wouldn’t be a hot mess in front of someone so heart-stoppingly gorgeous in every aspect?

“Hm. I think the children are making you soft, Stevie,” she concluded while chuckling. Now seating herself on the countertop, turning her body to face his. He had to swallow the heat rising up because she looked breathtaking... Like a queen sat on a throne. Steve being just a commoner; the privilege of seeing such royalty before him...of course he’d be speechless.

“W-What? Soft! I’m not soft! Those dipshits just need a good role model, you know?” Y/N raised an eyebrow at him; his defensive state only proving her point. ”Besides,” he added,” I have to be responsible and nice...with you as the other role model, one of us has to be a good influence.”

“Pfft, as if! You’re the one who has the issues, Mr. I take an hour to do my hair,” Y/N scoffed while shaking her head.

“Hey, hey, hey! Don’t bash me,” Steve replied while moving to wipe down the countertop. “You gotta make sure you look the part too, Y/N.”

He glanced at her for a few seconds and then noted,” And it’s an hour and a half. For your information, dork.” It only caused her to sputter a laugh, trying to hold still so her sundae wouldn’t fall.

The conversation carried on, finally losing the playful heat and turning to their usual ‘talk about everything and anything, we have nothing else to do while we wait for the children’. Steve always loved these moments...their conversations always made his day - because just talking to her about why her neighbors were the reason she didn’t sleep at night....was enough for Steve.

 During that time, Robin made her appearance and for a good few minutes, she’d stolen Y/N’s attention completely. To which, Steve only pouted and had a silent conversation with Robin about, through eye-contact.

What’re you doing? What is there a problem? Yes! This is supposed to be me, trying to woe her! You’re doing a wonderful job! Oh, shove one up it - will you? I’m trying!

“Wait - Steve, you tried to get Jenny Calif? Like...plastic Jenny Calif?” Y/N snickered as Robin re-enacted last week’s shenanigans of Harrington trying to score a date. He only flushed red.

“I...mean...it didn’t look like that.” He defended meekly. Gesturing to Robin standing a few feet away while trying to hold her imitation of him.

“So what? - Jenny Plastic Calif? I knew you were...like...desperate...but...I didn’t think you were...King Steve level desperate.” Y/N scoffed, a tease to her haunting words. Steve was taken back, they both promised to never bring up his...asshole phase...

He didn’t recognize her slightly insulting words for jealousy though, more so as disbelief and shock. Robin saw this though and tried to act on it.

“I know, right? This dingus was all like ‘Oh Jenny, haven’t seen you in a while...lookin’ good,’ and I was sitting in the back trying to drown out my agony.” Robin watched Y/N curiously and could make out the slender twitch of her lips. It seemed she was just as annoyed as anyone should be...when their (practical) boyfriend was making moves on another woman.

“Tsk,” Y/N sounded while pushing her empty dish to the side. The spoon still hanging out of her mouth, she moved over, booping Harrington’s nose. “You know better than that, Steves...you shouldn’t try and...cross species.”

Steve couldn't help the quirk of a smile. “Why’re you being so...ruthless...Y/N?” He whined while frowning. She shrugged. “Desperation is only cured by reality and truth.” Harrington groaned and gave her a gentle shove.

The duo continued their shift, accompanied by Y/N to entertain them through the process of work and waiting around. Steve was glad she was there to keep them company...if he were alone with Robin...Good Lord, all she’d do was drill it into him how oblivious he is, and how bad he is at getting your attention... By the time calling it quits rolled around, Robin was already on her way out.

“See ya tomorrow, dingus! Bye Y/N/N!” She called while waving. Leaving out the back door.

Y/N turned to Steve and he was just finishing closing the lids of ice cream, leaving every set up for whoever was to work the next shift. “What?” He urged, catching her stare. She only walked to the cash register and patted the free space beside it.

“No tip jar?” Steve only shrugged and pulled his hat off, running his fingers through his hair.

“I guess we didn’t think about it. Could get one starting week, I suppose.” He figured he could draw in some customers with luck...I mean, his good looks...right? Though some luck he had...it was like Steve The Hair Harrington fell off the face of the earth...

Y/N nodded and then said,” I’d leave a tip every time - just for your sorry ass.” Steve rolled his eyes as she continued,” I mean...Scoops’ gonna need more than a few bucks to hire a better sailor boy than you, right?”

“O-uch,” Steve retorted while holding his chest in ‘pain’. “You’re so mean...God, no wonder Dustin wishes I was his brother...Maybe he’s saving up for a new sibling.”

“Pfft, shut up, Harrington. Try all you want - the kids love me more, despite what you tell yourself before your bedtime.” Y/N explained while jutting a hip out. To which, Steve bumped purposefully as he walked from behind the counter. Only drawing that, oh-so-sweet grin from her...God, he was addicted to it.

“Yeah, right. That’s why they come to me when they need something,” he pointed out while the pair began walking towards the food court - where the kids said they’d meet them after Steve’s shift ended.

Standing so close to Y/N, Steve found his heart racing faster than what was good for him. Yet, her presence washed a calming sense...ironic really. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to be six miles away from her...or six inches away. Either way, he wouldn’t be happy...

“They come to you because you give them everything they ask for,” Y/N laughed while expressing herself with a twirling hand-gesture.

“You’re just jealous.” He decided.

“And you’re just a gullible, delusional dork who gives our children whatever they want.” Y/N countered.

The only thing that Steve processed though was our children. Was this a sign? Did she mean that she wanted kids with him? With having a child that meant having a relationship with him...right? Like he’d be their father, and Y/N would have to be their mother...to make them...their children...well, he supposed they could always adopt--

“Steve? Helloooo? Goddamnit, he’s doing that thing again!” Dustin groaned. Steve hadn’t even realized they’d made it to where the party was and everyone was staring at him; as he stared at Y/N.

“Y/N/N what did you do to him?” Dusty accused while pointing a finger at her.

“Me? This idiot just stopped responding!” Y/N told while throwing her hands in Harrington’s direction.

“He’s probably just upset I’m the better parent.”

“Here they go again,” Steve caught the teasing mutter from Lucas to Mike and the exchange of a head nod between the gang.

He felt flustered and finally found his voice again. “You!? Wait - what? Since when! I drive them everywhere, I get them free ice cream, free-range in walking around backstage of the mall--,” He ranted off all the things he did and had ever done, for them and it only had Y/N smirking the kids laughing.

“See? What’d I say, guys? Gull-i-ble.” she articulated, speaking slowly as if to a child as she poked Steve’s chest.

“Yeah...Y/N’s right, Steve. You’re just easier to convince.” Max noted with a snort, she could see it a mile away...the way they argued like a married couple...

“I mean...you’re kinda soft for a guy who was once King of High School,” Lucas chipped in while shrugging.

“I think you’re just stup--,” Dustin was cut off as Steve grabbed his shoulders, pushing the curly-haired Henderson to the nearest exit.

“Alright, dickheads. If you don’t wanna ride your damn bikes home - shut your mouths and get going.” He grumbled.

“Moody, sarcastic shit,” Y/N whispered to El and Max who only nodded hiding their amusement with their hands. The three girls walked behind the comical duo - Dustin struggling to get Steve’s hands off him, and Steve struggling to keep Dustin moving forward.

“I can’t tell which is worse,” Mike started while walking with Lucas and Will.

“What? The way Dustin doesn’t seem to realize Steve trying to get with his sister?” Will asked while shaking his head.

“Or how Harrington and Henderson can’t seem to realize they like each other?” Lucas added in a slow tone.

“Like I said,” Mike snickered,” I can’t tell which is worse.”

---------

How does part two sound? I think so! >.<

[utopianvoices]

bittersweet | k.seungmin

↭ genre: barista au; fluff 

↭ word count: 4.24k

↭ description: Your blind date went to the depths of shit, but was that an entirely bad thing?

↭ a/n: finally a seungmin fic aksdj i always feel some kind of guilt when i don’t see fics under certain members :( it’s also not proofread oops hehe hope y’all like it!! x 

↭ warnings: explicit language

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

“Come on, Y/n. Just one date?” your best friend pestered you. “You haven’t been out in that field for months and don’t you think it’s time to move on from Mr. Dickhead?” 

“This is the fifth time you’re asking me this week, and my answer is still no, Minho,” you said calmly, letting out a sigh once again, shaking your head. “You’re making me sigh so much, I’m going to grow older faster.”

Truth be told, you were heartbroken.

It was your first-ever relationship, lasting for about a year and a half when suddenly, said boyfriend wasn’t giving you as much attention and love as before. No calls, no texts, fewer meetups, and more avoidance. 

It had started about a year into your relationship — which you thought to be the happiest time of your relationship, seeing that you had reached the first milestone. But fate had different plans.

Initially, you just made excuses for him, blaming it on practices (he was on the school’s basketball team), convincing yourself that he couldn’t hang out with you because he was too tired after practice. But once off-seasons hit, you were left with no other reason to hold on to your relationship. The truth was glaring in your face, and yet you still decided to put on your pair of ignorant sunglasses and carry on as if nothing was wrong.

The first hit was when you saw him out at a restaurant with his teammates, after telling you that he was not able to hang out with you because he was down with a really bad flu and had to stay in bed. 

It was like the whole universe was trying to convince you to let him go, that he was definitely not worth your time and energy.

You still didn’t let go. 

Years of watching clichéd and unrealistic rom-coms had started to take its toll on the rational part of your brain, the part that was screaming the very obvious and correct answer at you, every time you saw him. You wished you had listened to that part of you, because a few days later, you saw him show up to school with another girl, arms around her waist, looking the happiest he has ever looked. 

Your eyes met from across the hallway, one pair reflecting hurt and the other nonchalance. He felt zero remorse for what he had done, and that was what hurt the most. 

"Am I bad in relationships?” you asked out of the blue, surprising the boy beside you. “Am I going to be single for the rest of my life?” 

“No, Y/n. You’re not bad. You just happened to fall for the wrong person. But trust me, when you find the right one, you’ll have a blast because that’s what you deserve,” Minho said firmly, sending you a slight smile at the end of his little speech.

“You know, you’re not that bad when you’re not acting like a sassy little bitch,” you say, blocking the pillow that came flying towards not a second later, soft chuckles escaping your mouth. “But really, thanks Minho. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Die alone.”

“And, he’s back,” you say, rolling your eyes at your intolerable best friend. “So... Um, what were you saying about that date?”

And as those words leave your mouth, you get the shock of your life, because you have never seen your best friend get that excited.

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

Pushing the door to the little coffee shop near your campus, the little bell tinkles above your head, causing a series of “Welcome” to echo through your ears as the workers behind the cafe put on the brightest and fakest smile to make sure you believe that they’re having the time of their lives working long hours after school, and occasionally dealing with snobs just to make sure they’re able to afford basic necessities such as air, water, food, and shelter. 

Walking up to the counter, you are served by a face you had never seen before, considering the fact that you were a regular and loyal customer. If your mind wasn’t occupied with pre-date jitters, you totally would’ve chosen the table at the far right — perfect view, and all — to admire the faces stressing out behind the counter. 

“Hi! What can I get you today?” the boy speaks up, flashing you a smile that almost made you think he enjoyed serving you. 

“I’ll get a vanilla latte, please,” you say, fishing around your bag for your wallet, as the boy in front of you entered your order into the machine. After considering it for a while, you decided to get something for your date as well. “Actually make that two vanilla lattes. And a chocolate chip muffin too.”

The boy nods, adding your extra orders in. “Can I get your name?” he asks, grabbing a marker, tip hovering over the plastic cup, as waited for an answer.

“Y/n.”

“Nice name,” he said with a smile, not looking up at you as he wrote it down. “Here for a first date?”

Taken aback by his straightforward behaviour, you look up, surprised that he had noticed. “Yea, how’d you notice?” 

He moves over a few steps towards the coffee machine, as he starts prepping your drink, causing your feet to involuntarily shuffle towards the direction in which he was moving. 

“Your body language kind of gave it away,” he started, speaking over the loud coffee machine. “Psych major, and all that. Why so nervous?”

Ah.

“It’s because I don’t even know the guy,” you said, and immediately realising how that sounded, frantically added more to your sentence. “I mean, it’s a blind date, of sorts. My best friend wouldn’t stop bugging me to go on a date because apparently, I need to move on from horribles ex’s.”

The boy in front of you nodded understandingly, finishing up your order during your little rant. You were not sure why you opened up to him —a complete stranger. But somehow it didn’t feel forced. On the contrary, it felt almost natural.

“Well, here’s your order Ms. Y/n, and I hope you have a great date!” he said, passing you the tray with your drinks and confectionary on it, nodding with a smile as he noticed you had tipped him quite generously. What? Anyone who listened to one of your rants deserved some kind of compensation. 

Mhm, sure. Definitely not because he was cute or anything. 

You rolled your eyes to yourself, ignoring the little voice that was whispering absurd but otherwise true things in your mind. 

You walk over to the back of the cafe and whip out your phone, tapping on your frequently contacted list and drafting a message to the number at the top of that list.

you: whr is he cat boy: patience, little one. he said he’s reaching cat boy: you’re sitting at the back right? you: yea cat boy: he said he’s there. look for someone wearing red plaid. g’luck be urself  cat boy: but not too much bcs u’ll scare him away you: gtfo cat boy: if he says anything stupid or is mean just sent me a text. he might be sung’s friend, but anyone who messes with my best friend answers to my hammer-like fists you: mjölnir is shaking in thor’s hands

Putting your phone away, you look up, and true enough, you see a rather dashing boy in red plaid, standing at the entrance and looking towards the back of the cafe in confusion. Unsure of what to do, you awkwardly raise your hand, in hopes that he would understand your pathetic attempts in trying to get him to notice you without attracting too much attention. 

Soon enough the both of you made eye contact, a smile blooming on his face as he walked over towards you.

“Hi, I’m Hyungsik! Jisung’s friend,” he said, extending a hand out. “You must be Y/n.”

You reach over and shake his hand, returning his smile with your own, letting out a “yes” to his question. 

“I got a drink for you!” you said, pushing one of the lattes towards him. “I didn’t know what you’d like so I just went with a safe option,”

“Oh no,  I don’t drink coffee from here,” he said, pushing the cup back towards you. “The ingredients are cheap and low quality, my body just won’t be able to accept it.”

Thinking back to the days where you lived off of instant noodles because you just were too lazy to cook for yourself, or when you finished a whole tub of ice cream while watching a movie, you felt your face slowly heat up as you let out an awkward chuckle, hoping that he’d drop that topic.

“Actually I wouldn’t really have chosen this place — not really my scene. I usually go over to the cafe on Main Street,” he continued, adding more and more details about the exquisite dishes they serve there and the ingredients they use. 

Just as you were starting to zone out (something that you should never be doing on a date), another question was thrown in your way. 

“So, Y/n, what is your family like?”

“Uh, so I have my parents and no siblings. They live in-” you started, but got cut off almost right after. 

“Mhm interesting. Do they own any companies or any own businesses?” 

Now you were confused. 

“No they don’t?” you answered, your answer sounding more like a question. 

You noticed the slight fall of expression from his face, as he heard that you were not some rich spoiled brat who got plenty of money from her parents. 

“I see. Because you know, my ex-girlfriend’s parents had this huge company? Really rich people, just like my parents,” he continued, once again falling into a whole ramble about how great his ex-girlfriend was or something like that; you weren’t listening. 

Instead, you were hurriedly typing on your phone, as you just continued to smile and nod at something the boy in front of you was saying. 

you: sos you: can you call me and start crying or smth you: i’m going to kill myself if i hear him talk about how his dog shits gold or wtv you: minhO CHECK UR PHONE ITS A LEVEL 9 EMERGENCY you: ugh you suck

Realising that your best friend wasn’t going to come to your rescue, you resorted to cutting the boy off with the lamest excuse you can think of.

“Hey, can you give me a moment? My hands are kind of dirty after eating the muffin,” you say, slowly getting up even before you could receive an answer. 

“Um sure,” the boy in front of you said, looking slightly perturbed at the fact that someone could even afford to get their hands dirty. Not in his rich household. 

Shooting him a final smile, you walk over to the small sink at the side of the cafe, gripping the sides of the sink as you regulate your breathing, unsure of how to get away from that not-so-amazing date you were having. 

“Need help?” 

Your head whipped up at the familiar voice, as the barista who made you your order stood beside you, tray in hand, as he looked upon you with concern. Who would blame him though — you looked like you were about to enter panic mode any moment.

“I-I, uh-” you stuttered, internally smacking yourself for not being able to form coherent sentences making you look more of an idiot than you already seemed like. But thankfully, someone was able to put two and two together. 

“Bad date, huh?” he said, setting the tray down on the counter beside him and shooting you a sad smile. 

You let out a breath of relief, somewhat happy that you didn’t have to explain yourself. “Yeah. I’m trying to think of ways to escape.”

“I’ve got an idea. Wanna hear it?”

“Colour me interested.”

Smiling at your response, the boy laid out his plans in front of you, making you both feel like you were in another episode of True Detective or something. 

“When you go back there, just make small conversation for five minutes. My shift’s over, so I’ll come there and pretend to be your best friend, saying there’s some emergency. Once we convince him that someone’s dying, we’ll go out the back door and escape from there. Cool?”

“Totally cool.”

With an encouraging nod from the boy in front of you, you take a deep breath and walk towards the dreaded table at the back, as you see your date scrolling through his phone, impatient sighs escaping him every 10 seconds. 

“I’m back!” you say, faking some enthusiasm as you finally take a seat. “Sorry, there was a problem with the... tap.”

Hearing your voice, Hyungsik set his phone down onto the table, smiling at your return. “Ah, you see, that’s the problem with these low-quality cafes. Nothing ever works right.”

And just like that, you both were back to your conversation about how he thought Gucci was better than Louis Vuitton. Not that you could relate, your go-to was definitely plain ol’ H&M.

As promised, four minutes later, you were met with a frantic looking boy, dressed in a dark blue denim jacket and a pair of black jeans. 

“Hey Y/n! I’ve been trying to call your phone for the past half an hour! You’ve got to come with me now,” he said, hands flailing around frantically as you were trying to best to hold back the laugh that was threatening to spill out any moment. 

“Hey....” you started, coming to a sudden halt as you realised something. You didn’t know this boy’s name. But you were not going to let that small setback hinder your whole plan. 

“Hey... Bob! Long time no see,” you say, mentally facepalming yourself for thinking of the lamest name ever. “What’s up? Sorry, I’m just on a really amazing date right now that I couldn’t check my phone.”

Okay, maybe you were exaggerating a bit, but who cares? You had to milk out the best outcome possible from this little skit. 

“Oh hi. I’m Bob, Y/n’s best friend. Sorry to cut your amazing date short, but I really gotta bring Y/n with me now. Her dog was just admitted to the hospital,” he said, not even sparing Hyungsik, who was now looking extremely confused, a glance. 

“What? I better leave now. Sorry for cutting the date short, Hyungsik!” you said, quickly grabbing your things and leaving before your date figured out what was happening with your terrible acting. 

“Yea... See you-” Hyungsik started, but was left alone before he could finish his sentence. 

You sprint out the back door, as planned, with “Bob” leading the way, falling into a heap of laughter as you were sure the door was closed behind you. 

“What kind of a name is Bob?! Seriously, Y/n?” the boy asked, trying to catch his own breath after the laughing fit. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t do well under pressure!” you defended yourself, wiping the stray tears that escaped the corners of your eyes. “Hey, but thank you so much for helping me out. I probably would’ve gone mad.”

“Anytime!” he said, finally settling down only to warm your heart with a small smile on his face. “It’s Seungmin, by the way.”

“Definitely better than Bob.”

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

As you open the door to your shared apartment, you are almost immediately engulfed in a hug, as this person hugging you chants “I’m sorry” over and over again like some cult leader. 

“Okay, Minho, I got it. You can let go now.”

“I can’t believe I forgot to charge my phone like who does that?” your best friend screeched, tugging at his hair as he looked at you as if he had committed a murder. “I’m a horrible best friend.” 

You roll your eyes at his dramatic antics and grab him by the collar, dragging him towards the couch and throwing him on it. “Nobody died. I’m alive and fine. Phones die all the fucking time. Get your shit together, Lee Minho.”

“B-but...” your friend stuttered, pout already forming on his lips. 

If there was one thing about Minho that everyone knew about, it was his tendency to blame everything on himself. Even if it wasn’t his fault and he had no control over it whatsoever. 

“Enough about that. Are you gonna hear my interesting story or not?” you said, a playful smirk playing at your lips as your best friend perks up at the fact that you were about to share your day with him. 

Nodding his head to signify that he was ready and listening, you narrated that day’s happenings. 

“So, basically he was cute and all, but all he could talk about was how high class he was? And how he didn’t like to enter, and I quote, low-class cafes,” you say, earning an offended gasp from Minho. “And on top of that, he looked disappointed when he found out that I didn’t own some hugeass business or whatever.” 

“Dick.” 

“Mhm, right. That’s when I messaged you and tried my best to get out of the situation, but you couldn’t reply,” you continue, hastily adding on a “but that wasn’t your fault because phone batteries suck,” when you see Minho’s face drop into a slight pout. 

“I had to get out of that place so I just went over to the sink and tried to think of ways to escape when the barista that took my order offered to help,” you say, thinking back to Seungmin’s cute smile. “So he just came over and pretended to be my best friend and said there was an emergency and kind of just dragged me away through the back door.” 

You were unaware of the fact that your face softened at the mention of your saviour, but it didn’t go unnoticed by the boy in front of you, who was studying your every facial expression since you started your little story. 

“Barista, huh?” Minho started, smirk evident on his face. “Was he cute?” 

You slowly felt the heat creep up your cheeks as you fiddled with your fingers, a sign that you were flustered. 

“Does it matter?” 

“Yes, yes it does, Y/n. It matters a whole lot,” Minho teased, glad that he had grabbed the perfect opportunity to annoy you. “It matters because the blush on your face is giving me many, many indications on how you feel about this barista of yours.”

“Shut your mouth, dipshit. There’s nothing like that,” you counter, desperately praying for the heat to leave your face.

“Whatever you say, m’love.” 

You roll your eyes for the umpteenth time, leaving to prepare for bed, as that day’s events replayed in your mind. You weren’t sure how to feel about the barista occupying your mind, but all you knew was that you had to see him again. 

After all, you didn’t manage to get his number. 

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

The familiar ring of the small bell fills your ear as you step foot into the same cafe you were in four days ago. You had actually planned to go the day after, but you were, sadly, a college student who apparently had to go to classes to make sure your grades don’t fall below expectations. 

“Welcome to SKZ ca-” Seungmin started, instinctively, until he saw the person who had entered the cafe. “Y/n! You’re back!” 

“I am!” you say, with equal enthusiasm, as you walk up towards the counter and get your wallet ready. 

“Another blind date?” Seungmin teased, wiping his hands on a paper towel as he walked up towards the main counter. 

“Shut up,” you deadpanned, shaking your head at the boy’s little jab. “I came here for some caffeine because I am currently behind on my assignments and I don’t really feel like repeating this semester. Any drinks to recommend?” 

“Relatable,” Seungmin grimaced, thinking about the pile of assignments in his bag that was locked up in the staff locker. “How about an iced americano? The ice will definitely make sure that you’re wide awake, maybe more so than the coffee itself.”

“Sure, anything to keep me from snoring away on that table,” you replied, letting a tired sigh escape your lips. “I wish Minho was here to study with me, ugh. I hate studying alone.” 

Although that last sentence was muttered under your breath, Seungmin’s ear still caught it, his mind immediately whirring with solutions. 

“I finish my shift in about an hour,” he started cautiously, not knowing what your answer would be. “Maybe, we could study together?” 

You freeze on the spot and slowly look up at the boy in front of you, unsure if you had heard him correctly, but the look on his face told you that you had heard him perfectly well. 

You let out a breathy laugh and nod your head. “Sure, I’d love that.” 

“Great! Drink’s on me then!” Seungmin grinned, fishing out his own card to pay for your drink and the muffin (he took the liberty to add it in for you), and left to make the drink before you could even start to protest. 

You shake your head and walk towards the table against the window, big enough for two people, and set your heavy bag down as you plopped onto one of the seats. 

Not wasting any time, you grab your laptop and your notes, diving right into your assignments, afraid that you’d change your mind and go back home if you procrastinated one second longer. 

One hour later, you’re halfway through your drink and there are crumbs left on the pastry plate, as you hurriedly type away on your laptop, initially not noticing Seungmin walking towards your table, out of his work attire and school bag slung over his shoulders. 

“Move slightly forward and you’ll fall into your computer screen,” a familiar voice rang out, causing you to snap out of your bubble and focus on the boy taking his seat in front of you. “I’m surprised you don’t wear glasses.”

“I do wear glasses, just not often,” you replied, going back to your essay on how Shakespeare had made a change in the world’s arts. Seriously, who cared. All you got out from your literature lectures were that you could annoy Minho by talking in Shakespearean English for a whole day. He definitely did not appreciate that. 

Realising that you were in your zone and that he shouldn’t disturb you, Seungmin grabbed his own pile of worries and got to work, the fatigue of working a four-hour shift after school slowly catching up to him. 

Three hours later, and you finally stop tapping away incessantly on your computer, leaning back in your chair and stretching your arms above your head. 

“Hey Seungmin, I’m do-” you started, but abruptly cut yourself off as you see Seungmin’s head resting on his hand, eyes closed as he let out even breaths, indicating that he was fast asleep. 

Seeing that he was exploring dreamland, you took this opportunity to admire the boy’s features, in a non-creepy way, of course. The way his left cheek was slightly chubbier than his right, and the little mole on his cheek, or even how brown his eyes we- Wait. 

You shouldn’t be able to see the colour of his eyes if he was sleeping. 

Just like that, you stare into the eyes of the cute barista in front of you, unable to tear your gaze away, even as colour rushes to your cheek as you realise that you have been caught admiring him. 

“Take a picture, Y/n, it’ll last longer,” he said, not passing up on the opportunity to tease you even though it had been less than a minute since he was awake. 

“I-I wasn’t staring,” you started, immediately falling into defensive mode, as embarrassment took over every cell in your body. “I was about to wake you up, okay.”

“Sure,” he humoured you, but not stopping the smile that was spreading across his face. 

“Oh, look at the time! It’s time for me to go back!” you said, frantically packing up your things as you wished to get away from the cafe as far as possible until you were sure that your heart wasn’t going to burst. 

But just as you were reaching for the last piece of paper on your desk, a hand stopped you, forcing you to look up at the boy who’s eyes you had been avoiding for the past few minutes. 

“Um, do you think we can do this tomorrow?” he started, eyes darting around everywhere except your eyes. “But without the studying?”

You could feel your heart abruptly stop, as your mind slowly processed the question that had just left Seungmin’s mouth. Was he implying what you thought was implying? The only way to find out was to ask. 

“Like a date?” you asked, voice small due to the lack of courage. 

“Like a date,” the boy confirms, eyes finally meeting yours, as he awaits your answer. 

It hadn’t been long since you met him, but you couldn’t deny the fact that something was blossoming between you, whether it be a strong friendship or something more. And you were willing to find out.

“Let’s do it.” 

∞ end ∞

[indigomez]

Happy Birthday P.P

Summary: Peter plans your sweet eighteenth birthday :)

A/N: sorry if it's bad, I'm depressed :/

Good morning Ms. Y/N, happy birthday.

You smiled and rolled over in bed, you yawned as you sat up on your bed. "Thank you, Friday. Is Peter here yet?" 

Tony has put a new protocol, named the pest control protocol. 

"Why on earth would my father put a new protocol- ohh..." You laughed, swinging your legs over your bed and onto the cold marble floor. Lazily getting out of bed and putting your hair up in a semi-neat bun, you groaned as you stretched your arms. Making your way to the bathroom to start your morning routine. You walked out into the kitchen, seeing your father with his morning coffee as he quickly typed on his holographic tablet.

"Morning dad," 

"Good morning princess, and of course-" He pressed a button on his watch. You smiled as a small single served birthday cake came up from on a silver plate, a single candle shined as Friday played a soft happy birthday tune.

"Daddy, thanks a lot." You smiled, quickly taking him into your arms as he kissed your forehead. "So my birthday girl, what is your wish list?" You sighed, rolling your eyes as he muttered a simple 'what?'

"Dad, you always get me something for my birthday. And I don't mean something useful I mean a god damn twenty million dollar car-"

"So? Anyone would die to have that type of car." He scoffed, "Dad, for one you don't let me go out anywhere. And you won't even let me get my drivers licnes!" 

"I'm Tony Stark love, I can buy you anything-"

"Dad, I know you can. But, can you buy me a birthday party with my family?" You begged, "Now why would you-"

"Please daddy?" Oh, man the daddy card. You used it whenever you wanted something that you know would take your father a minute to pursuade. "I don't know about that pumpkin-"

"Please, Daddy please?"  He sighed, throwing his head back in annoyance before looking back at you. "All of them?" You nodded "And Peter-"

"You're testing it kid. Why him?" You pressed your lips together and raised your eyebrows. "Good morning derranged family of mine!" Banner yelled, you sighed in relief as you turned around. "Uncle Bruce! Are you staying for my birthday?" He smiled, giving you a big bear hug as he poured him a cup of coffee.

"Of course kid, you're turning eighteen that's a big event! What did you have in mind?" 

"Well, I just wanted everyone to come in. You know. My family for once-" Tony quickly jumped up. "What do you mean for once?"

"Dad, for the eighteen years I've been alive, my birthday was just your excuse to have a grand party for only adults and you call in Peter to keep me safe up here while you guys have all the fun!" You protested. "In my defense I never have fun at his parties-" Banner muttered, 

"But I get it love. Do whatever you want. It's your day today," You smiled, huffing in surprise at the sudden subtle and heart warming ourburst of your father. "Wow, th-thanks dad-"

"I'll call Peter over and you two can have a sleep over and I'll host my bash in the ballroom." He smiled, my jaw dropped as he hopped off the stool and with a tiny ounce of pep in his step walked off. "That old man has got to be kidding me..." You uttered as you watched him strut into his bedroom. 

"Well, if it makes you feel any better Y/N. You could always sneak out." Your head snapped towards Bruce, leaning forward as you whispered. "Tell me." He smiled, sitting on the stool next to you as he whispered the plan.

It was only seven thirty at night but it seemed much later, you could see all the flashes of lights and people below as they strut out of their limos and million dollar cars. You rolled your eyes and leaned back agaisnt the couch. "Hey doll, happy birthday." You looked up and smiled at Bucky and Steve as they walked into the living space, Bucky kissed your forehead as Steve handed you a small box.

"What is this?" Bucky hopped over the couch and landed next to you, while Steve respectivly walked around and sat on your other side. You eyeballed them both as you opened your gift box, you lifted up the white mug in awe.

"Oh my god, it's adorable! Thank-" You stopped, looking at the font with furrowed eyebrows. Steve's and Bucky's smile faded with concern. "Do you not like it?" Steve muttered, leaning forward to see the font on the mug.

"Show me your kitties? Really?" 

"WHAT!?" Steve ripped the mug away from you as his face turned neon red. "I-It was supposed to be 'Game of Meows!' I swear!" He defended, Bucky groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "And I put my name on that shit." He hissed under his breath as Steve kept ranting about how it was wrong.

"What on earth is going on here?" Natasha asked, walking up behind you on the couch. "They gave me the wrong mug for my birthday so now their wollowing in regret." She hummed, not surprised by the mix up. 

"Your birthday present is with Banner in the nursery, why don't you go get ready?" She whispered, you smiled and nodded. Quickly getting up to go get ready.

"Wait! Y-Y/N I'm so sorry!" Steve called, Natasha laughed as she slapped Steve's arm. "Come on, get ready, party's gonna start soon. Bucky groaned, rolling his eyes as he got up. "Why do we have to celebrate someone elses birthday when there not even there to be there their birthday?" He asked, Nat shrugged her shoulders. 

"Beats me, Stark's her father so who knows. But I'm pretty sure she's going to have a nice birthday this year." She smirked, walking back to her room to put on her heels, "What does that mean?" Steve wondered, "Who knows." 

You smiled as you quietly opened the doors to Banners lab, "Uncle Bruce?" You called, nothing. you walked around, looking around for your uncle. You pulled out your phone to see no texts from Peter or anyone else. "Am I too early?" 

"Not at all-" You whipped around, grabbing the nearest beaker. Throwing it at whoever startled you. Instantly regretting it as Peter ducked before it could hit his head, watching as the beaker smash into peices. "I-I am so sorry Pete! You scared me." He smiled, " It's fine, I gotta stop sneaking up on you like that." 

"Happy birthday Y/N." He walked up to you, engulfing you in his warm arms. You could melt into a puddle of goo of how warm this kid is, he smelled like Aunt May's apartment, sweet. With a faint vanilla smell you love. You two pulled away, wishing it lasted longer. You two just stood there. Staring at each other-

"You guys should go before Stark notices, go on." Banner states, Peter gives you one last look before taking your hand. "Where are we going-"

"To celebrate your birthday, of course!" Peter chimed, you waved to Bruce as he smiled and waved back.

You and Peter sneak through the building and head out the back, seeing Rhodey, Thor and Happy smiling sweetly at you. You gasped as you saw your Asgardian uncle smiling fondly at you. "Thor! Oh my god!!" You squealed as you ran into his arms, his laughed vibrated in his chest as he lifts you up. 

"My sweet Y/N It has been so long! My word how you've grown. I remember when you were this little yesterday- Wow... You really haven't grown much haven't you." He teased, Rhodey and Happy gave their rounds of happy birthdays and loving hugs and kisses. 

"We have everything under controll kid, go have a good time." Happy stated, placing a hand on your shoulder as he smiled. "You're treating Tony Starks daughter as if she was your son." Rhodey laughed Happy's expression changed as his hand fell from your shouldder as he tried to come up with a rebuttle. "Go on, we will see you soon." Thor gestured, Peter took your hand in his again, and you two walked and said your goodbyes.

"So, birthday girl what do you wanna do? " He asked, waving your linked hands forwards and backwards between you. "I don't know, you know I don't go out much." He huffed, nodding as his other hand wiped the back of his neck. "Well, uh. Do you like... Want to go shopping? Or-"

"Peter, show me what you do. Like, where do you go for food? For fun." The blush on his cheeks brightned. "I know this great sandwich place on twenty first street." He rammbled, 

The sweet outing consisted of you getting the best sandwiches in Queens, then going to meet Ned and Mj at this Thai restruant, then leaving them to go to a pizza place and just having more left overs. You two took pictures, cute, funny, ugly, and beautiful. He'd always steal a quick picture on his phone when you werent looking, quietly editing it and sending it to Banner for him to print out. 

Sure you may have the most richest dad in the world. But you never had the change to go out and get some air, be a kid. But you couldn't blame your dad for wanting to protect you. But when you were out with Peter, it was like a winter wonderland. It was snowing outside but every time Peter's hand touched, or gripped your hand tightly. It felt like your whole body was on fire. Warming you up inside. 

"Would you like to go ice skating?" He asked, "Where would we go ice skating?" He moved to the edge of the sidewalk, loudly calling a taxi without letting go of your hand. He stepped back as the taxi pulled up in front of you two.

"I thought stuff like that only happens in movies." You utter, causing Peter to laugh as he opens the door for you. 

"Pete, I-I don't know about this-" 

"Come on! You're safe with me, I promise." You looked up at him as he smiled back at you, you two were skating outside in the snow in front of the Rockafeller Christmas Tree in New York city, only twenty five mintues away from home but regardless it was like a whole new world to you. You tightly grab both of his hands as he skated backwards. Causing you to skate forwards,

"See? I promse. I won't let you fall." You nodded, trusting Peter's words as you two continued to skate. You laughed at your posture as he continued to skate backwards. "You're doing amazing Y/N!" He yelled over the music, you gave him one last glace before your foot slipped right from under you. 

You screamed as you were ready for the fall but Peter soon caught you. But then his foot slipped and you both still ended up scattered on the ice. But you two laughed, getting up from his chest. He bounced up first before grabbing your hand and hoisting you up. "Thanks for the catch-" You gasped as your skate slid from under you.

But Peter wrapped his arm around your waist. You looked up at him, you looked into his eyes. You were basically drowning in his sweet warmth right now. "Y-You know... I've been meaning to say this..." He licked his lips, "I know, we've been dating for a few years now... But... I-It feels as if, were not at the same time... You know?" You nodded,

understanding his concern. Yes you two have had feelings for each other. But none of you said anything, you guys haven't kissed or gone out on dates, you two couldn't even consider yourselves friends because the feelings grew way too strong, but you imagined the worst. What if he didn't want to be your boyfriend?

What if he doesn't like you? Is he only there for you because of Tony? 

What if- "I love you Y/N." You get knocked out of your anxious thoughts and looked back up into Peter's eyes, "R-Really? You what-"

"I said I love you Y/N... I don't want to keep playing this game of does she or does she not anymore. " You huffed, a huge wave of relief coursed through your veins. "D...Do you not feel the same?" He peeped, you smiled up at him. "Of course I love you, you big dummy." You placed your hands on his warm neck, pulling him in and placing a sweet kiss on his lips. His hands placed on the sides of your waist as he closed his eyes.

Humming at the feel of his soft, warm lips on yours made your heart race. Smiling you pulled him closer as he did the same. 

"Y/n!!!" You cried as you looked past Peter's shoulder, seeing Tony in his Iron Man suit as he landed on the ice. "Why the hell are you all the way out here!? A-And with Parker?" He seethed as he walked up to the two of you. You stepped in front of Peter. "Dad! It's my eighteenth birthday! Have a little respect for me-" 

"What's going on! Is everything okay? Y/N!" Steve called, running across the ice. You groaned as you hung your head. " Oh god." 

"I got the signal, your heart was beating so vapidly we thought you were kiddnapped!" He sighed in relief, standing next to Tony. "We're fine, we were just celebrating my birthday." You stated, emphasizing my as Tony awkwardly fiddled his fingers, of course. His daughter is right.

"Of course love. I should know better, I just hate seeing my baby girl all grown up. So soon, maybe even too soon." He uttered, staring at the ice under his iron feet as he stared at the scratched ice.

"Daddy, I'll always be your daughter. No matter how old." You walked up to his suit, hugging it, but he pushed you away. Stepping out the suit to give you a proper hug. The crowd smiled and awed at the sweet moment.

"Alright kid get off, people are watching- Pete! Have her home by midnight or your bug sprayed!"

"Wait what-"

"See you at home Y/N!!" Tony hopped back into his suit and flew off, leaving you, Peter and Steve. You turned to face Peter.

"Happy birthday." He smiled, holding his arms at for you. You skate into his arms as he kissed your cold cheeks.

Taglist!: @drakesfiance @hollandxvoid @scottyisthatyou @tylerrose93 @underoos-shield @ukulele-tea-and-ocean @just4muggles

[babblingblondegenius]

Future Ficlet: All You Need is Love...and Coffee

Wow, tonight’s episode was brutal.  Between the painful Olicity separation in present time and the lack of Olicity in the dark future of the flash-forwards, we aren’t seeing any of the happy right now.  There seems to be no hope. Our heroes’ sacrifices were all in vain.  Basically, everything sucks.

As kismet would have it, a couple of weeks ago, I shared a fun little head canon with @allimariexf and @hope-for-olicity and they both encouraged me to ‘write the thing.’  I’ve had a terrible case of writer’s block for quite some time (meaning I have a gazillion story ideas and a ton of WIPs that are unfinished).  I expected this one to end up dormant in my drafts as well.  But after tonight’s episode, I felt the need to finish it because we (and Olicity, of course) deserve a little hope and happy.  Set two years in the future, the premise of this little fluffy ficlet is that Felicity needs an assistant but she has particular criteria ;)  

This should have been the easy part.  

After months of enticing investors, obtaining the proper licenses and permits, all the legal mumbo jumbo, and locating the perfect office space, hiring an executive assistant is going to be the breaking point where she finally loses her sanity.  

Which completely defeats the purpose of trying to find someone to help her in the first place.

She has been doing fine on her own, thriving actually, since she decided it was time to recommence building a tech company from the ground up, sans Curtis this time.   This venture, for better or worse, will be all hers.  Her vision.  Her name. Her legacy.

Despite her initial apprehension at that thought, she has a clarity and confidence in her mission and goals that has propelled her forward at a pace she couldn’t have imagined.  So far, choosing which of her many prototypes she wanted to launch first has been her biggest challenge.

Until now.  

She had narrowed down the stack of over 100 applications to the eight most qualified for the position, and began the interview process at 7:00 this morning.  

The first one had been punctual, neat, and lacking any sort of personality whatsoever.  

The second one arrived twenty minutes late and then interrupted Felicity mid-interview to take a non-emergency personal call on her cell phone.

The third one tapped her super long artificial nails on the edge of Felicity’s desk the entire time and included ‘loud typer’ when asked how her current co-workers would describe her.

The fourth one was a chaotic whirlwind who overshared details of his personal life on every single question.

Maybe he just had too much caffeine in his system. Or maybe she doesn’t have enough.

Coffee.  She needs coffee.  Her next interviewee isn’t scheduled to come in for another hour, so she takes the reprieve to just lay her head down on her desk for a moment in order to gather up the energy she needs to make the trek down the block for her caffeine fix.

��One vanilla soy latte, extra sugar, extra cinnamon, extra whip cream.”  

Oh yes.  That’s exactly what she wants.  Why she is thinking it in Oliver’s voice, she doesn’t know.  Her coffee daydream is so vivid, she can even smell the soothing notes of vanilla with hints of sweet cinnamon spice wafting through the air. Mmmmmmmm.

“Felicity….honey, are you okay?”  Oliver’s voice again.  She slowly lifts her head and sees her husband standing on the other side of her desk, holding a large cup emblazoned with the logo of her favorite java joint and her name scrawled across it in black marker.

“I am now,” she practically purrs as he hands over her treasured treat.  After taking a deep inhale and a long swallow, she blissfully smiles at him.  “It’s perfect.  You’re perfect.”  Suddenly jumping up out of her chair, she shares the revelation brought on by the jolt of caffeine in her system. “Oh!  I have a great idea!  You should apply to be my EA.”  

Oliver chuffs out a laugh.  “Because I brought you coffee?  Your standards must be pretty low.”  

“Worried you couldn’t cut it, Mr. Queen?” she asks, arching an eyebrow in challenge.

“I think my time served as Mayor proves otherwise,” he retorts with an air of gravitas but mimics her gesture, silently letting her know that he enjoys her teasing him and is willing to play along.  

She shakes her head.  “Nope, not helpful.  You couldn’t even get me a break on my taxes when you were the mayor.  What are your current qualifications?”

He ponders the inquiry for a moment before responding proudly, “I’m the head chef at Chez Queen.”

She rolls her eyes at Oliver’s corny moniker for their kitchen but gives him an encouraging smile.  “Oh yeah, I’ve eaten there a few times.  The food is magnificent.  But do you have any business experience?”

His expression goes from proud to smug.  “As a matter of fact, I do.  I was formerly the CEO of Queen Consolidated.”

She takes another swig of coffee and checks an incoming text on her cell phone before reminding him, “I happen to have first-hand knowledge you wouldn’t have made it a week without your super smart and highly efficient EA.”   

“That’s true,” he concedes with a grin, “though on the downside, she only brought me coffee one time.  One”, he repeats, taking her coffee and phone and setting them off to the side. Placing his palms flat on the edge of her desk, he leans in closer, a visible twinkle in his vivid blue eyes.   “I think she actually broke our coffeemaker.  Violently,” he teases in a conspiratorial whisper.

Mirroring her husband, she leans in over the desk until their noses are almost touching.  “A little violence doesn’t scare you, does it, Mr. Queen?”  She allows her gaze to run down the length of his torso, visibly appreciating the definition of his biceps that his jacket cannot conceal. “You look like you could handle yourself just fine.”

“I like to stay in shape.”  He feigns modesty but she knows her husband and can recognize that look in his eyes. “Some cardio, free weights, martial arts, salmon ladder…”

“That’s so hot” she blurts out, temporarily slipping out of character as her brain produces an amazing visual of sweaty and shirtless Oliver making his way up the salmon ladder.  Will there ever be a day when that doesn’t turn her on?  Probably not, and judging from the self-satisfied smirk on his face, he mentioned it on purpose just to get that very reaction out of her.   Determined to get back on track, she rephrases, “I mean, that sounds interesting.”  She decides a change of topic would be helpful to give her an advantage in their little game.  “Computer skills?”

She immediately regrets that question when Oliver gives her a feral smile that makes her weak in the knees.  Lowering his voice to the same octave he uses when he is dressed in green leather, he divulges, “I’ve hacked a federal prison network.”

Guh, game over.  In all her years with Oliver, that is the sexiest thing he has ever said. She quickly makes her way around the desk and invades his personal space. “Seems like you’re a man of many talents,” she coos appreciatively, latching onto his arm and nuzzling her face into the sleeve of his jacket to breathe in the scent that is uniquely Oliver.

“My wife taught me a thing or two,” he boasts, turning so they are face-to-face and he can wrap his arms around her.  

Her hands instinctively move from his arm to his chest, resting over his heart.  “She must be an amazing woman.”

Oliver nods in agreement, his nose nuzzling hers. “She is.  She’s the best.”

“I know you’re just saying that to get husband points and its working,” she acknowledges affectionately, her hand caressing the stubble on his jaw.   He tilts his head into her palm like a contented cat and she takes the opportunity to kiss him like she wanted to since she saw him in front of her desk, whether it was five minutes ago with coffee or nine years ago with a bullet-ridden laptop.  

Oliver moans and deepens the kiss, the fervent strokes of his tongue making her long for more.  “Okay, you’re hired,” she pants, breaking the kiss when her need for air temporarily overcomes her need for Oliver.  “Smoak Tech is a start-up so your health care package consists of me patching you up if you are injured and I’m sure we can work out some type of compensation for your time and skills,” provocatively shifting her body against his and feeling his obvious interest through his jeans and her skirt.  Two soft kisses and one firm rotation of his hips later, she is internally debating the sturdiness of her desk and whether they have time for her to show him exactly what she means by ‘compensation’ before her next appointment shows up.

“That’s a very tempting offer, Ms. Smoak” he murmurs into her hair as his hand travels down her back and immediately finds its usual place on the curve of her shapely ass, pulling her impossibly closer, “but I’m afraid my current employer really needs me right now and I just can’t bear to leave her,” his free hand gesturing to the stroller where their daughter slumbers peacefully.

Felicity sighs, pure happiness filling her heart and clearing her mind as she rests her head on her husband’s chest to gaze lovingly at the chubby-cheeked, perfect amalgamation of her and Oliver they brought into the world just four short months ago.   “Sounds like she has you wrapped around her little finger.”  

Oliver rests his chin on the top of her head and she can hear the love and contentment in his voice when he whispers in her hair, “From the very first moment I met her.  She takes after her mother that way.”

A/N:  Thank you for reading!  I hope this helped to soothe the sting of all the angst.  Queen family feels FTW.  William was not in this fic because at that time of day, he should be in school and also I didn’t want to traumatize him any further with Olicity’s blatant flirty flirt.  The poor kid has seen enough already lol.  

Huge thanks and virtual hugs to @allimariexf and @hope-for-olicity for all the fun conversations and being all around wonderful :)

Oliver’s ‘current employer’ ;)

[thatwinchesterfever]

Just Another Day (Office AU, Part 1)

Pairing: Dean Smith x Reader (Female)

Summary: The Reader has been Dean Smith’s hardworking assistant for the past few months now and things have been going great. That is until people start dying at Sandover. And what’s with that freakishly tall IT guy that keeps bothering her and talking about ghosts in the elevator? 

Word Count: 2,265

Warning: Language

Author’s Note: Remember the “It’s a Terrible Life” episode? Yeah, this is that. But with the Reader added to the mix and a few things changed. This is only Part 1 so there is definitely more to come! Leave me comments, honest opinions, and a thumbs up if you like anything you read :)

Your day officially started at 5:00. Every single weekday, sometimes on the weekends. It was a uniform schedule really. You would wake up, take a shower, put on your clothes that you pressed and ironed the night before, water your plants, and be out the door by 6.

You always walked to work in the morning. Traffic was too hectic to catch a cab and you also had to make a stop on the way. It was a pain in the ass to make the particular stop but you knew you wouldn’t be able to set foot inside your office without it.

You grumbled every time you opened the door to the Starbucks and would hear the jingling of the bell above your head. It wasn’t that you hated Starbucks, you actually loved it. They made damn good lattes. The problem was the wait. The place always had a line outside the door and it always had 2 or 3 asshole customers. You hated waiting in line as much as the next person but there was no reason to take it out on the staff. That’s why you always tipped and tried to muster up a smile despite how early in the morning it was.

You usually didn’t even have to place an order once you got up to the register. You’ve been there so many times that the staff knew your order by heart. A Venti Café Macchiato with skim milk, an extra shot of espresso, and a whole grain muffin, and a Grande Vanilla Latte with an extra shot of Vanilla with a blueberry muffin.  Your order obviously being the latter. Your boss had a healthier and more refined palate than you did.

Typically, after your Starbucks run, you had a 10-minute walk to the office building. The tricky part was always making sure the Starbucks was still hot once you reached your desk. Your boss hated cold coffee.

The worst was always when the elevator was out of service and you had to climb all the way up to the 12th floor. On those days, you made sure to move quick enough but not fast enough to make you sweat like a pig. You’ll be damned if you ever showed up to work flustered, and unprofessional. And you could only go so fast in heels anyways. But for the most part, the elevator was usually working. And you always arrived at your desk on time. 7:15.

At 7:30 exactly, on the dot, your boss would walk through the glass doors, tapping away on his cell phone in concentration, his workbag hitched on his shoulders.

You gave him a small smile. “Good morning, Mr. Smith.”  

Mr. Smith looked up from his phone and gave you a small nod. “Morning, Y/N.”

You reached for a folder and the newspaper that sat on your desk. “You have a meeting today at 10, an appointment for 1:30, and a phone call conference for 3. I already filed the paperwork for Miller and straightened out the whole Templeton fiasco. Turns out it was a simple case of miscommunication…Oh and your fun fact for today would be that Led Zeppelin were huge Lord of the Rings fans.”

Mr. Smith chuckled while taking the newspaper and folder from your hands.

“Zeppelin? Really? Is that the type of music you think I listen to?”

You shrugged. “Wild guess, maybe? I mean, you don’t listen to the stock market reports on the radio or NPR, right?” Mr. Smith looked down sheepishly at the folder in his hand and began to leaf through the papers.

You let out a laugh. “Oh my gosh! You do!” You noticed the tip of your boss’ ears began to turn red with embarrassment.

“Shouldn’t you be preparing the Johnson file right now?” He grumbled, beginning to walk away from your desk.

“Don’t worry Mr. Smith, your secret’s safe with me. Besides, I think you’re a secret Zeppelin fan at heart.”

He waved you off. “Back to work Ms. Colt.”

“Mr. Smith.” You sang.

Mr. Smith turned around to you once more and you held a Starbucks cup and bag out in front of you with an innocent grin. He shook his head.

“I would sink without you.”

“Indeed.”

You don’t really remember how you stumbled onto Sandover Bridge & Iron Inc. It just sort of happened. One day you just found yourself on the 22th floor of Sandover in Dean Smith’s office. According to your research, he was an up and coming force in the business, with the title of Senior Partner almost in his grasp. All at the ripe age of 30. And he was looking for an assistant. A lot of rumors circulated about Dean Smith. A lot of people said he was a hard-ass, others said he was brutal, and a generous amount said he was a complete asshole. Yet you found yourself at the interview.

When you first strolled into Dean Smith’s office, you thought you were being Punk’d. All you saw was a smoking hot man sitting behind the desk. A sleek suit, soft spikes of sandy blonde hair, golden tan skin, freckles, and piercing green eyes. The guy was fucking gorgeous. You had the sudden urge to pull the man by the tie and let him fuck you into the next week.

You bit the bottom of your lip as Dean Smith began to stare at you critically.

“Ms. Colt?” You nodded and handed him your resume. He motioned for you to take a seat. He never dropped his gaze though. And with one swift motion, he tore your resume in half. You let out a small gasp.

“I don’t really like resumes. They have a lot of words that don’t really mean anything. I’ve had plenty of assistants with an excellent resume and turned out to be complete shit,” He gave you a cold, hard, calculating look. “So why should I hire you?”

So maybe the rumors were true about him. You felt somewhat nervous but the setting felt also… familiar? You couldn’t put your finger on it exactly but everything about being in the office with this man felt familiar and almost second nature.

You realized that the next few sentences would either make or break you. You knew exactly what to say.

“May I ask why your previous assistants aren’t working for you today?” You asked.

Dean Smith let out a snort and gave exasperated sigh. “Well, one never showed up on time, one wasn’t good with deadlines, a few tried to lay one on me or feel me up, another asked me what a memo was, and the last one couldn’t get my coffee order right.”

“Okay, well,” You locked eyes with him and squared your shoulders. “I just moved into town not too long ago, which didn’t really leave me room for a social life therefore I have nothing to do but arrive to work on time, I work 10 times better under deadlines, I’m a classy girl and don’t put out on the first date, a memo can be defined as a written communication or a reminder, and lastly I consider coffee the liquid of life, if someone messed up my coffee order, I would fire them too Mr. Smith.”

The room fell silent for a moment, and Dean Smith stared at you with an unreadable expression. Perhaps you might have fucked this one up.

The corners of his mouth twitched up into a smile and he laughed. “You’re hired.”

That was 2 months and a half ago and somehow you were still his assistant. And you found out for yourself, the rumors were all true.

“I expect you to be on time every single day. I highly recommend you be here before I even arrive. I like to have an itinerary of the day on paper for me before my day starts, I prefer well-written profiles of each client I come into contact with, I eat lunch everyday at 12, and every morning I drink a Venti Café Macchiato with skim milk, an extra shot of espresso with a whole grain muffin.” Mr. Smith rattled off.

You were thankful you remembered to grab your notebook.

“And most importantly, dress professionally. We only perform as good as we dress. And with that being said, you are responsible for some of my home duties as well. Picking and dropping stuff off at the cleaners, making sure my car gets cleaned bi-weekly, the usual.”

You almost wanted to high tail it at the mention of all the work and phone calls you would have to do daily. But you were never one to back down, for anything, or anyone.

“Mr. Smith.” You knocked on his office door lightly.

“Come in.” Mr. Smith had his Bluetooth in and was typing on his computer with speed. You held up a bag and lightly shook it.

“Lunch is served, oh mighty Overlord.” Mr. Smith didn’t bother to look up and continued typing. You began to unload the contents of the bag and place the items on his desk. “You lucked out today, they finally got shipment of that organic dressing crap you always rave about.” Mr. Smith finished typing and finally looked up.

“It’s not crap. It’s healthy. It’s suppose to cleanse your systems but provide nutrients at the same time.”

“Honestly Mr. Smith, this whole cleansing diet thing is just a little bit-“

“A little bit what?”  He asked pulling the Bluetooth out of his ear and placing it on his desk.

“Unnecessary.” You pulled a few napkins out of the bag. “I mean, you’re probably one of the most in shape 30 year-olds I’ve ever known,”

“Because of the cleanse,” He said in a matter-of-factly tone.

“No, before the cleanse. You only started up this stupid cleanse about 3 weeks ago. You were in perfect shape then too.” You were busying yourself with taking the lids off everything, like it was second nature. “I mean when I first walked into your office for an interview, believe me when I say you were in shape, I-“ You paused for a moment and looked towards your boss. He had a slight smirk on his face. Your eyes widened. “Did I just say that out loud?”

Mr. Smith nodded. “Yes you did.” His face danced with amusement.

You started to babble. “I didn’t mean it like that- What I meant to say was- I promise I’m professional- I just was saying how you didn’t need that stupid cleanse- I don’t even know why that slipped out of my mouth- Just forget it. Forget every word I’ve said now. I’m leaving now.” You awkwardly crumbled the bag that the food came in and headed for the door. You could hear laughter coming from the office once you closed the door.

You let out a puff of air as you fell back into your office chair. Those outbursts have been more frequent as of late. And sometimes it would be the weirdest things.  

A few days ago, you found yourself typing the name “Dean Winchester” for your boss’ memo rather than “Smith”. You’ve never even met someone with that last name before.

Then just yesterday, when Mr. Smith dropped off a stack of paper work while you were mindlessly typing on your laptop, you gave him a small “Thanks babe.” Thankfully your boss didn’t seem to notice and said “Welcome.” before walking back to his office. It all seemed too natural. The realization of what you just said didn’t even hit until seconds later. You were horrified. But your boss never mentioned it.

You opened your lunch bag and began eating with a rock station softly playing in the background.

At 5:30 in the afternoon, you always leaves the office with Mr. Smith, prepping him for a meeting of some sort that he always schedules for 6:00. The two of you exit the glass double doors and enter the elevator.

“Don’t forget you’re meeting O’Dell at Fait Avec Amour instead of Swingers tonight, and don’t forget he’s a sucker for white wine,” You said while leafing through a manila folder.

Mr. Smith put down his phone and let out a groan. “White wine? Really?”

You looked up from your files and raised an eyebrow in concern. “Is there a problem?”

“The cleanse only allows room for water and the cleanse itself. Not white wine.” He said massaging his temple.

“Oh my. What it must feel like to be worrisome of drinking top shelf, white wine.”  You deadpanned. Your boss acted like a child at times.

“I don’t pay you for your smart ass remarks you know.” He began to busy himself on his phone again.

“I’m pretty sure payroll does that, Sir.”

Instead of the elevator opening up to the ground level, the door opened to the 12th floor. You looked up to see a guy in a bright yellow shirt, which signaled he was from IT, towering over both you and Mr. Smith. And it was pretty damn hard to tower over Mr. Smith.

His height wasn’t what threw you off though. It was the way he was staring. He was staring at the two of you like he recognized a celebrity or seen a ghost of some sort.

Usually when people realized you were Dean Smith and the assistant, you got the celebrity reaction, but this guy’s stare was different. It was haunting, and knowing.

You quickly dropped your eye contact back to your papers and shifted a little on your feet. Your boss seemed to not notice a thing.

“Do I know you two from somewhere?” A voice filled the elevator. It was the IT guy. Mr. Smith looked up from his phone and you looked up from your papers.

Mr. Smith simply raised an eyebrow at the guy like he had two heads. But you actually stared back. No, you didn’t know him from anywhere. But something about him screamed familiar. Maybe you rode the elevator with him a few times or so. You were about to say just as much until your boss spoke instead.

“No, I don’t think so,” Mr. Smith answered, speaking for the both of you. Like he knew who all of your friends were in the office. You rolled your eyes.

The guy shook his head and scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry man, the two of you just look really familiar.”

The elevator finally dinged and the doors opened at the base level. “Yeah well, save it for the health club, pal.” Mr. Smith said with a bit of snark before exiting the elevator.

You threw the guy an apologetic look before following your boss. You forgot that there was a reason why a lot of people didn’t favor Dean Smith. That part of him always seemed to go away when it was just the two of you. It wasn’t your place to call him out on his behavior though. He was still your boss after all.

“That guy was definitely trying to hit on you. How unprofessional. He’s lucky I don’t know his name or I would report his ass.” Mr. Smith pulled his earpiece out and turned towards you. He sounded genuinely pissed.

“Mr. Smith, I don’t think he was. He seemed actually curious…” Your sentence lingered. You were curious too. The whole exchange seemed a bit weird. “But thank you for defending my honor, Sir.” You giggled and for a quick second, you swore you saw your boss blush.

“Yeah, well- uh, I should get going.” He took the manila folder from your hands and hiked up his messenger bag. “Have to prepare myself for all the wine guzzling tonight,” You laughed at your boss’ face of distaste and he laughed along with you.

“Well don’t get too wasted Mr. Bossman, you’re always a bit more cranky after a night on the town.” You said quickly fixing his tie without a second thought. “I have to now see a woman about your dry cleaning.” You looked up to him with a smile. “See ya.” You waved and started walking the opposite direction of Mr. Smith.

You didn’t want your boss to get the last word in after that particular comment. You loved giving him shit about being a lightweight.

But you did really have to see a lady about dry cleaning. It was one of your many duties as Dean Smith’s assistant. And since it was a Tuesday, you had to make sure Mr. Smith’s car was washed. Then, after the cleaners, you had to color coordinate his outfit for the next day according to a chart you received from his stylist advisor.

You rolled your eyes at that. You wondered if the guy even owned a pair of jeans. If he did, you haven’t seen them yet. You always imagined what your boss would look like with jeans on and a simple Henley. You laughed at the thought.

A Dean Smith who isn’t dressed up isn’t a Dean Smith at all.

By the time you got home it was around 8 pm. That’s the time you always got home. You would cook yourself a quick dinner, take a steaming shower, and read a chapter or two of your book before falling asleep. And It was like that every single weekday.

You should have known something was wrong when you missed your alarm the next morning.

Part 2

[mellie-alethea-writes]

Salem Witch Trials Short Story

this is a short story from when i was younger

i had to write it for some class

but like i’ve definitely improved

don’t judge me too hard

warning, its pretty long

also probably not very accurate to the time period

but its as accurate as an 8-10-year-old can get

story under the cut

In 1692, Salem, Massachusetts, news of two possessed girls swept over our, once peaceful, town. It was said that Elizabeth Parris and Abigail Williams became possessed by the devil. My friend Alice told me that it was witchcraft and anyone who got caught practicing witchcraft was gonna go to jail. Alice and I like to joke around a lot, but I’m not too sure if she was kidding this time.

I was sitting at my desk in class, tracing the wood with my fingers. Ms. Newman stood at the moss green chalkboard, poking it with her long wooden rod, making sure to say every last word, number, and date. I looked up at the board to see a few words messily written. “The Old Religion.” I murmured to myself. “What does that mean?”

Mary Warren leaned over to my desk. “That’s what happens when you don’t pay attention,” Mary sneered. I opened my mouth to speak when she cuts me off. “We’re talking about Wicca.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Some religion? She’s just been saying ‘The Old Religion’ over and over again, but put in different sentences.” Mary shrugged.

I turned back to the teacher just in time to see two policemen come in the door. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the two men. My stomach lurched and I could feel fear’s icy grip tugging at my limbic system. Two policemen are not something you see every day.

They walked over to Ms. Newman and muttered something to themselves. “I’m Officer David and this is Officer Nathaniel,” one man with a professional-looking, cobalt blue uniform explained, pointing to his comrade.

“You’re Ms. Newman, I presume,” another man with a shiny, golden badge stated. Ms. Newman nodded. “In that case, may we have a word with you?”

At this very moment, I thought of everything that could happen to Ms. Newman. I was shaking so much. I tried to concentrate on our books.

“Of course you may.” Ms. Newman replied. Her voice was so soft and sweet-sounding. She was such a nice teacher. Why were the police here?

As she turned to us, we all looked back to our books to act like we weren’t staring. “Why don’t you all have a quick recess, okay?” I could tell she was trying to hide the worry in her voice, but it wasn’t quite working out as well as she hoped. 

We all fled the classroom like a hive of worker bees. As I passed, I asked her, “What’s going on, Ms. Newman? The policemen aren’t here to take you away, are they?”

Ms. Newman put her arm over my shoulder. “I don’t know. All I know is that they’re here and they want me to talk to them.” She forced a smile onto her face. “Why don’t you run along and play with your friends, Jane?”

I nodded and ran outside to go meet up with Alice. The sun shone brightly that day and the birds whistled like a teapot. Alice sat on the ground with her wisteria dress fanned out around her. She had a little leather bag tied with a piece of twine in her hand. “Hey, Alice!” I exclaimed, waving to her. I ran over and sat down next to her. “Are we gonna play marbles again today?” My dress fanned out all around me just like hers. But my dress is the color of wet concrete. Not as pretty a color as hers. 

Alice looked up at me with a big smile on her face. “But of course!” She dumped out the marbles, took a small, broken piece of white chalk, and drew a circle and a small straight line just outside of the circle.

“Why do you think the police are here?” I asked her, curious to hear her opinion on the situation.

“I heard Ms. Newman is a witch.” She paused and smiled a devilish smile. “And you know what happens to witches!” Alice pretended to hold some sort of rod and turn it.

“What?” I asked, clearly confused.

“Let’s just play,” Alice suggested. Just as she said that Ms. Newman stood at the entrance. She had a sad expression on her face and the policemen were standing close behind her.

Alice scooped her things back into the small bag, got up, and left. Didn’t say anything to me, just left. “Oh well…” I muttered, pushing myself off the gravel.

The way Ms. Newman’s face looked made the sick feeling in my stomach return.

“Come, children.” Ms. Newman called, beckoning us with her hand. “I’m very sorry, my dears, but I must go away for a while. You won’t be needing to come to school tomorrow.”

Some kid that I don’t know the name of raised his hand. Ms. Newman nodded for him to speak. “Or the day after that, right? Cause you said for a while and just tomorrow is not a while.”

She laughed to herself and nodded. “Yes, you won’t have to go to school the day after that, either. I must go now.” She turned and left with the policemen.

I said my goodbyes to Alice and started walking down the street. I was so excited to get home to see Aunt Margaret and Uncle Arthur. I couldn’t wait to tell them about all the crazy stuff that had happened.

I came up to our little wooden house that was the same as any other and pushed open the door. The sweet scent of fresh strawberries and a gooey vanilla cake wafted through the house.

My sister Ellen greeted me with a curtsy. “Hello, sister. It is a lovely day, isn’t it? You’re wearing your hair up in a most flattering way.” she exclaimed. 

I laughed. “No need to be that formal. Now, where’s Aunt Margaret and Uncle Arthur?” I wondered.

“Uncle hasn’t come home yet. Aunt Margaret is in the kitchen whipping up some potatoes and strawberry shortcake for dinner.” Ellen explained.

I thanked Ellen and walked into the kitchen. “I’ve had the craziest day, Aunt Margaret. My nice teacher Ms. Newman is a witch.” The words stumbled out of my mouth without any thought, though I wasn’t sure if it was true.

“Sit down, dear.” Aunt Margaret said. I did as I was told and sat down on a rough, wooden chair in front of a small table. She walked over to me, her fern green wedges clattering against the hardwood floor and her dress the color of an oxblood stain flew behind her like a parachute. “Now… Do you really believe in all that?” She kneeled down and placed her hands on my legs.

“Well… I don’t even know if it’s actually true.” I looked down to hide my embarrassment.

“Don’t go spreading rumors now, Jane.” Aunt Margaret said, shaking her head at me. “Uncle Arthur should be home any moment now.”

Aunt Margaret returned to the roaring cooking fire. She dropped four potatoes into the gleaming black pot. I was mesmerized by the glittering persimmon-colored flames.

Ratta tat. The sound of my uncle knocking at the door. “Ellen! Go get the door for Uncle Arthur.” Aunt Margaret called.

Ellen rushed to the door and swiftly opened the door, revealing a tall, broad-shouldered man with short, balding hair and chocolate brown eyes. His eyes showed traces of frantic worry. Ellen opened her arms wide. “Welcome home, Uncle!”

Uncle Arthur pushed past Ellen and practically ran into the kitchen. “Tell them it’s not true, Maggie, dear! Tell them it’s not!”

Aunt Margaret rushed over to Uncle Arthur and brought him into her arms. “Now slow down…” Aunt Margaret was trying her hardest to comfort him, though she didn't know what was wrong. “Tell who what's not true, Arthur, dear.”

I shuffled over to Ellen. “We should probably leave them to talk, Ellen.” My sister nodded in agreement as we walked into the family room. 

The same officers that came to school came into my house. “Excuse me, ma’am. Mary Warren and her parents are accusing you of practicing witchcraft.” Officer Nathaniel explained.

Uncle Arthur groaned. “Tell them you're not a witch!”

Aunt Margaret looked startled. The way her eyebrows squeezed close together and her lips pursed, it made me think of how Ms. Newman must have felt. Aunt Margaret put one hand on Uncle Arthur and the other on her forehead. 

Officer David leaned himself on the door frame and rocked gently on his heels. “We’ll be taking our leave now.”

Officer Nathaniel added, “With you.”

Aunt Margaret said nothing. She looked reluctant at first, but she gave in to the fact that they had the authority. She looked down at her feet as she walked away with them.

I sat on a chair and looked at Ellen. Ellen didn’t look back at me. We were both bored, but we knew we did the right thing to leave our Aunt and Uncle alone. “So… What’s going on with you?” I asked. My eyes felt heavy and I was starting to get tired. Ellen didn’t answer me, she just looked at me and yawned. Then, out of nowhere, I heard loud sobbing coming from the kitchen.

“Ellen, we should see what’s going on,” I suggested, getting up from the chair.

Ellen followed me into the kitchen, where we saw Uncle Arthur with his face in his hands and tears pouring from his fingers. 

“Uncle…” I whispered, putting my hand on his shoulder.

He looked up at me. “Jane, they took her! The officers took Margaret!”

“Ellen, could you-” I started.

Ellen nodded and walked over to Uncle Arthur. I walked outside and leaned up against the fence. “Mary! Mary! They took my Aunt!” I yelled.

Instead of Mary coming out, her mother did. “Serves her right! She’s given my Mary muscle spasms, that witch!” she growled.

My mouth hung open. I was flabbergasted. I ran into the house. “Uncle! I know this isn’t really the time, but can I go to Alice’s house? It’s just down the hill.” I pleaded.

Uncle Arthur waved his hand at me. “Sure, go,” he muttered, before placing his head back in his hands and sobbing.

Ellen stood over him, looking at him with her eyes full of sympathy and sadness. She rubbed his back and told him it was going to be just fine. But no one actually knew that yet.

I turned and ran out the door. I practically flew down the hill, arms stretched out on either side of me. Tears brimmed at the edges of my eyes.

Then, there before me was Alice’s house. Sure, it looked like my house and Mary’s house and any other house in Salem, but it was special to me because of who lived in it. And that girl was going to have to comfort me now.

I skidded to a stop, dirt flying all around me. I knocked on the door. “Alice!” I yelled. “Something terrible has happened!”

I expected the door to fly open and Alice to run out, take me in her arms, let me inside, and tell me it's going to be alright.

Instead, the door creaked open the slightest bit. I saw a sliver of Alice’s face through the crack in the door. “You really shouldn’t be here, Jane. I would love to comfort you, but I’m needing some comforting myself.” Alice sighed.

My heart sank. “What? Why? I haven’t even told you what’s happened.” I whispered.

“But I know. The officers from before said they were coming to get us after they got Margaret. I know your Aunt is called Margaret.” she explained. Alice swung open the door, revealing her whole body. The corners of her mouth were turned down and her eyes were stained with salt.

“No, no… This can’t be happening!” I murmured, shaking my head.

All of a sudden, I heard a voice behind me. “She and the family are scheduled for 5:00 o’clock.” The two officers walked next to me. 

“Hello there!” Officer David greeted me.

I ignored him and turned to Alice, who was about to sink back into her home. “You have a clock, right? What time is it?” I blabbed, sounding really flustered.

She leaned back to look at an old grandfather clock in her family room. “It’s 4:50…” she whispered, before stepping back all the way and closing the door.

The two officers walked up to the door. Right as they were about to knock, Alice reopened the door and her mother, father, and little brother stood with her in the doorway, sharing the same expression. Eyebrows pushed together, creases on their forehead, and corners of their mouths turned down.

I couldn’t bear the sight of them. I turned and ran back to my house. I pushed open the door. “Uncle! Uncle!” I shouted. “Aunt Margaret’s going to be burned in ten minutes!”

My Uncle ran to me. “That soon?” he asked, kneeling and putting his hands on my shoulders.

“Yes! And my friend Alice and her family…” I whimpered.

“Oh, my… We can’t save them.” Uncle Arthur said, seemingly to no one.

Ten minutes passed in the blink of an eye. I heard rioting outside. Ellen peers out the door. When she opens the door, I smell burning and a thick, grey fog swirls into the room. “Smoke,” I muttered. It burned my nostrils and brought tears to my eyes. I walked over to Ellen, pushed her out of the way, and slammed the door shut.

Suddenly, reality hit me like a boulder. “Ms. Newman isn’t coming back, neither are Alice or Aunt Margaret,” I whispered, tears streaking my face. I crumpled down into a little ball, as smoke filled outside.

Ellen came over to me and attempted to comfort me, but soon cried herself. Uncle joined us in our crying. We were all hopeless without Aunt Margaret.

I had no idea what was going to happen next. All I knew is I couldn’t survive school. I couldn’t face Mary Warren. Not now, not ever. Especially not without Alice, Aunt Margaret, and Ms. Newman.

[southernchicstyle]

I Scream You Scream

                                                                 Photos by Daniel Ortiz Photography

When thinking of ideas for our daughter’s 3rd birthday party, she was on a major ice cream kick (I mean, what kid isn’t... but she was extra excited about it all of the time). So, ice cream party quickly became the theme. 

And, with her birthday falling on a week day and Sunday Funday on my brain, “Sundae Funday” just clicked and came together! There was already a gold letter banner for it and everything. Plus, it was nice having all of Saturday to get everything ready for the Sunday party. 

I pinterested the heck out of ideas to find what would really stick for our party. Ice cream cone centerpieces, a sundae bar with lots of toppings, and an ice cream cart were MUSTS from my research. 

Etsy came through with the best banners, printables (invites, signs, etc), and balloon garland kit (linked everything at the end of the post but also attempted to link throughout the post). 

There are so many fun ice cream themed ways to serve food. I found this great clear acrylic cone stand and served fruit in sugar cones. And, our sweet nanny made popcorn balls on sugar cones that turned out so cute!

Another Etsy find were the ice cream food tents that were a great accent to the decorations. 

The table centerpieces were a combination of a few ideas I saw online. The glass containers themselves were finds from our local Ross. (The gold bottom was not my favorite at first but I’m so glad I got them!)

Then sprinkles went in the bottom with a waffle cone for the flowers. Carnations and hydrangeas give a good ice cream scoop appearance and we added in some wild flowers to liven it up.

Not everyone will care so much about sprinkles matching throughout the party, but I was a bit crazy about the specific colors. So, I found a huge container of them online and used them from the cake to the centerpieces, etc.

Ice cream cone cookies and 3s were an easy cookie decision in the party colors... with sprinkles, of course. Ours were made by Paulie’s Cookies in Houston. They tasted as delicious as they looked!

And, these honeycomb ice cream cones were an easy addition to the party.

I really loved so much about the birthday party, but I’m SUPER proud of the ice cream cart. Unable to locate one to rent or purchase, I tasked my handy husband with making one. He bought the wood, I found the wheels, we had the umbrella, and I bought the letters (and lined them up ever so carefully). He knocked it out of the park!

The balloon garland kit was perfect for recreating this look I found on pinterest (we added in the lavender balloons to pull it in from other parts of the party) and the inflatable ice cream cones were one of the first things I bought for the party!

The ice cream cart photo spot was popular, too. And, thanks to the balloon garland kit I now can create a balloon garland with ease!

Since the kids would no doubt end up on the playset, it got a little ice cream party touch, as well. A mini ice cream banner was the cutest along with mini 3D cones. 

Our talented nanny also created the awesome balloon ice cream cone that she also knocked out of the park. She even managed to add balloon sprinkles!

It was SUPER windy during the party, so it was quite difficult to capture of a photo of the awesome ice cream cone balloon piece completely upright (its even on a sturdy metal pole...).

Two things: 

1) Who remembers the ice cream poppers/shooters (in my daughter’s hand below)? We HAD to have them for the party and the kids LOVED them!

2) The pieces on the floor in the photo below are frozen rose petals. I’d never seen anyone freeze flowers like this! Keep reading for who made that happen.

Scooping ice cream from tubs was the last resort for the party. My first idea was to rent a soft serve machine. Oddly enough, that was a difficult task (finding a company who rented one and would deliver it to our area).  Sharing this with a friend, she recommended trying a local ice cream store for catering.

So, I reached out to Sub Zero Nitrogen Ice Cream. You know, the ice cream spot where they make the ice cream in front of you using science. Not only would that provide entertainment, but it would be one less thing I have to attend to during the party.

Sub Zero to the rescue! 

The owner was great to work with, and he had a great set up complete with science experiments for the kids like the frozen roses. Perfect option for a party!

For the Ice Cream Sundae bar, toppings were the hero. 

But, the set up included two “ice cream sundae” arrangements (white and pink hydrangeas bundled to look like ice cream scoops with burlap wrapped around the stems to look like a cone, and a cherry on top), the ice cream cups each child could take home with them, and our wooden back drop covered in vinyl sprinkles and finished with the “Sundae Funday” gold balloons. 

Toppings on the bar: Marshmallows, crushed Heath Bar (toffee), cherries, mini M&Ms, gummy bears, strawberry wafers, almond slivers, Teddy Grahams, strawberries, sprinkles, cookie dough, peanut butter cup, caramel, chocolate syrup, white chocolate syrup, and whipped topping. 

Clear scoops for the toppings aimed to keep little hands out of touching everything. No telling if that was successful, but they looked great!

Even though ice cream was the main attraction, you can’t have a birthday without cake. 

Sweet Marie’s made the cutest “ice cream cone melting” cake for our girl’s party. And, we ordered some chocolate and vanilla cupcakes from the local grocery store with white icing and added the cupcake holders and cherries to look like ice cream sundaes.

The birthday girl wore a tiara made of sprinkles (a little pricier than I wanted, but it was perfect) and a custom Cuteheads dress with the most perfect ice cream cone buttons on the back. 

The candle for the cake is simple a “3″ I found online that we put adhesive on and sprinkled sprinkles on to match the cake and other decor.

Oh how I wish I could take credit for the melting ice cream cone on the craft table, but I only found the idea on pinterest. Our nanny recreated it!

Rough instructions:  Inspired by Pinterest. We didn’t have specific instructions, but took brown butcher paper to make the cone and added a sheer tan ribbon for the lines. The white “ice cream” is a filler you would use when stuffing pillows or crafts for kids with pink table cloths (I believe we used the plastic ones you can get at any party store) bunched up around the base with craft pom poms sprinkled all over. The cherry is a bunch of sheer red fabric balled up with pink string making the little pink ball on the cherry and a cotton ball on top of that. Used a combination of hot glue and fabric glue to secure things.

In addition to the jump house, our playset, and the trampoline, we had a necklace/bracelet activity for the kids.. These ice cream cone charms paired well with the two sets of beads I ordered for stringing. 

And, the bean bag toss has become a consistent activity at our parties. It was painted with flowers for the first birthday, bubbles for the second, and ice cream for the 3rd. You’ll see the next iteration when I get our son’s 1st birthday posted!

For the adults, I found a fun ice cream champagne idea on pinterest and put my own (easier) spin on it. The post I found suggested scooping vanilla ice cream ahead of time and putting it in the freezer on a pan, which definitely helped get the drinks out quickly. And, we served them in fun gold rimmed champagne flutes that I also used for flowers on the kids’ table.

To make the ice cream drink, add a scoop of vanilla ice cream to the flute then pour champagne over it. Add a raspberry flavored drink on top... just a little more than a splash. We used the black raspberry Ice Water, but the original recipe called for a homemade raspberry sauce. I did not have the time for it, and the raspberry sparkling water was easy and delicious!

And, last but not least, the kids all went home with some fun ice cream themed goodies. The favor tags were a printable download linked here that was personalized with our girl’s name. And, the cellophane wrapped cups were printed with a similar ice cream cone as the signs and invite. Inside the cups we put ice cream pens, mini sundae shaped lip glosses, stickers, and lollipops.

Then we wrapped cellophane around the cups, tied it with ribbon, and added the favor tags. The kids also took home bath bombs shaped like ice cream scoops with sprinkles. My friend Beth (who owns Manor) made them and they were a hit!

It may have taken me a while to get this comprehensive post together for you guys, but I loved reliving every single detail. My last tip from the party is related to the balloon garland. 

Get a balloon pump for blowing up the balloons, use balloon tape, and enlist help for blowing up balloons. It’ll go much faster with help! And, the balloons will hold air and typically look good at the least for 24 hours. We assembled ours the night before.

All things party related including some not pictured:

- Assorted Beads for Stringing $14

- Balloon Garland Kit, Ice Cream Dream $30

- Balloons: Gold and White 12″ Balloons, 100 pack $10

- Balloon Tape, 25′ length $7

- Cake by Sweet Marie’s

- Candle (gold trim 3) $4.50

- Cherries: Pack of 25 Artificial Lifelike Red Black Cherries $5.60

- Clear Acrylic Ice Cream Cone Stand $15

- Clear Scoops for Toppings, 16 pieces $9 

- Confetti Sprinkle Beverage Napkins (48 count) $7.50

- Cookies: Custom by Paulie’s Cookies

- Dress: Custom Cuteheads Dress

- Elastic Thread Beading String, 0.8 mm $7.60

- Ghirardelli Caramel, Chocolate, & White Chocolate (3 pack) $18

- Gold Plastic Silverware (300 piece) $30

- Gold Rimmed Champagne Flutes (clear hard plastic set of 50) $20.20

- Gold Rimmed Plastic Cups (set of 50) $14.20

- Happy Birthday  Ice Cream Banner $20

- Honeycomb Ice Cream Cone Hanging Decor $6.50

- I Scream You Scream Instant Download Sign, 8x10 $5

- Ice Cream Birthday Party Printable Invitations, 5x7 pdf $16

  for those in Houston, I print mine at Katie & Co.

- Ice Cream Birthday Party Favor Tags (1.75″ x 3.5″) $10

- Ice Cream Cone Shooters, 12 pack $12

- Ice Cream Cone Charms (set of 9) $9

- Ice Cream Dessert Bowls and Spoons, 12 pack $14

- Ice Cream Party Balloons with Sprinkles $13

- Ice Cream Party Cups (with lids and straws, 16 oz) $12

- Ice Cream Parlor Food Label Table Tents, Printable set of 8 $10

- Ice Cream 6″ Pens (6 count) $12

- Ice Cream Scoop Bath Bombs (made by Beth of Manor)

- Inflatable Ice Cream Cones, 36 inch $8

- Lavender Balloons (12 inch, 12 count) $4.17

- Mini Ice Cream Banner $10.40

- Natural Rainbow Sprinkles, 1.6 lb $18.99

- Pastel Lunch Napkins (150 count) $15

- Photos: Party Photographed by Daniel Ortiz

- Rainbow Sprinkles Lace Tiara $30

- Self Adhesive Vinyl Letters, 4 inch $9.50

- Sprinkle Number 3 Balloon $6

- Sprinkle Paper Lanterns (set of 3) $11

- Sub Zero Nitrogen Ice Cream (catered locally)

- Sugar & Cloth 5 inch Oval Dessert Plate, Mint with Gold Trim (24 count) $10

- Sundae Funday Gold Balloon Banner $37

- Sundae Lip Gloss Party Favor, set of 12 $16.55

- Tablecloth: Round Raised Petals in Taffeta, 120 in. $40

- Wire Spoke Wheel, 16 inch for cart $33

- Vinyl Sprinkle Stickers (used on backdrop)  $18

Sugar & Cloth 5 inch Oval Dessert Plate, gold plasticware, and  cake by Sweet Marie’s

          _______________________________________________________

Birthday Archives:

2nd Birthday: Bubble Bash

1st Birthday: Garden Party (I guess its possible in my baby brain state I never posted the garden party... Will remedy that as soon as I can)

[mariequitecontrarie]

Morning Glory: Part 2

Summary: When Joseph, a former small-town priest turned soda fountain clerk, discovers his favorite customer and longtime crush Belle French spending time with a handsome, mysterious stranger, he’s convinced they’re a couple. But there’s an emotional distance between Belle and Merlin, fueling his suspicions that Merlin cares more about impressing Belle than making her happy. Will Joseph summon the courage and faith to confess his love for Belle, or will he stand aside and allow both their hearts to be broken? Word Count: Chapter: 1496/Total: 14,150 Rating: T A/N: Part 2 of my Macelle fic, Morning Glory, for @of-princes-and-savages. Written for @maydaymenagerie

AO3: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 Tumblr: Part 1| 

Jealousy, worry, and alarm mingle in a heady cocktail, and  Joseph is still cursing himself thirty minutes later while he’s stocking the cleaning supply aisle. The bell at the soda fountain counter dings, startling his frayed nerves, and he drops a case of glass cleaner on his foot, then bites down on his wrist to keep from howling.

Belle has arrived at last. Foot throbbing, he hobbles to the soda fountain to greet her.

“Evening, Joseph,” Belle says, beaming. A halo of thick, soft hair is tumbling around her shoulders and her cheeks are flushed apple red from the cold.

“Hello, Belle.” He ducks behind the counter. Unsettled by his earlier encounter with the stranger who called him Joe, it’s an effort to smile into the eyes of his favorite customer. All he can see in his mind’s eye is Merlin’s smug happiness when he prepaid for Belle’s ice cream from now until the Lord returns. On the rare occasion that he’s flush with cash, he likes to treat Belle, but now even that simple pleasure has been stripped away. “What’ll it be today? The usual?”

The brightness in her eyes dims, and he wonders if something troubles her. She settles onto a stool and runs her index finger down the paper menu, biting down on her lush lower lip as she scans the offerings. “Since we both know I don’t have a usual, what do you recommend?”

“I’m sorry. Been a bit of a rough day.” Ashamed of his thoughtlessness, he scratches at his forehead. He wants to question her about Merlin’s visit to the store earlier this evening, but he doesn’t know where to start. That and he’s promised not to say a word. Bloody conscience.

“Joseph, you’re hurt.” Belle moves his hand away from his face to examine the bump on his head, her concerned eyes roaming over his forehead.

He shakes his head, suppressing a shiver of delight when she says his name, enjoying far too much the soft way it rolls off her tongue. “It’s just a little scratch. Nothing to be alarmed about.”

She frowns. “We should put some ice on it.”

“I’m ok,” he says again, longing to recapture their typical, easy banter. But his tongue feels twisted into knots. “What’s your pleasure today? Something with coconut? Peach parfait?” He pauses, then eyes a bunch of ripe bananas. “How about a banana split?”

“Mmmm, that sounds heavenly.” She puts her hand on his forearm and squeezes. “You always have the best ideas.”

Pleased by her praise, he chuckles, then sets to work. He carefully peels and halves a perfect yellow banana with a touch of green at the stem. He scoops mounds of homemade chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry ice cream into a serving dish, regarding Belle from beneath lowered lashes.

After topping the dish with whipped cream, he crowns the sundae with a handful of maraschino cherries. He peeks at the pharmacy counter to see if Bedelia is watching. He can hear her now, complaining about the cost per cherry. In defiance, he dumps another spoonful on top for good measure. The cherries are Belle’s favorite part of the dessert. He presents her sundae with a flourish and a smile.

“Thank you,” she says, her eyes lighting up when he sets the dish before her. “This looks delicious.”

You look delicious, he wants to say as her beautiful mouth envelopes the spoon. Her eyes close and she moans in pleasure as she swallows the first bite, and his cheeks darken at the carnal direction of his thoughts. His mind drifts back to Merlin, and jealousy turns him greener than the vat of pistachio ice cream in the case. Blessed Virgin, help me, he prays. I don’t know how to act, or what to say. Give me the right words.

“Quite welcome.” He forces a smile. “How was your day?”

“All right. I got held up at the library when the system went down and needed a reboot; that’s why I was late tonight, but I did get a new shipment of mystery romance novels in.” Her face brightens, as it always does when she speaks of books. She really is the most adorable creature God ever put on this earth.

He picks up his rag and shines the counter again. “Belle, do you have family in town this week?”

“No, why do you ask?”

“No special reason.” He can rule out Merlin as a family member then.

He tries again. “Is anything new happening?”

She furrows her brow in thought. “Other than the library…no. Oh! There is something!”

“Yes?”

“Ruby and Archie had their baby! A little girl named Julia Jane. Six pounds, eleven ounces.”

“Oh. Well. Babies are a blessing, there’s no doubt.” He pinches his nose, disappointed yet relieved that she hasn’t mentioned the mysterious Merlin. It’s because she doesn’t trust you, imbecile. She’s content to share town gossip, but she’s not about to tell you who she’s dating.

He keeps her talking between bites, directing the conversation into safer areas like the weather, her work, and the latest community happenings.

All too soon, she scrapes the bowl of ice cream clean and dabs her mouth with a paper napkin. Her lips look soft and he wishes he could do it for her.

“I can’t believe I ate the entire thing!” she exclaims.

“Ice cream isn’t really food. It just fills in all those empty little spaces.” He grins. She always eats the entire dessert, but she says that every week, and every week he offers the same reassurance.

Her cheeks turn a beguiling shade of pink.

“What’s going on over here?” Bedelia is standing behind Belle, her arms crossed over her chest. She peers into Belle’s empty bowl.

Joseph gulps. He’d been so preoccupied with flirting he’d forgotten all about keeping watch. “Miss French is enjoying some ice cream.”

“Looks to me like she’s finished eating and needs to be on her way.” Bedelia nudges Belle’s bowl in Joseph’s direction, and he whisks it away and places it in the sink at the back of the bar.

He turns around to face Bedelia once more. “Belle’s a paying customer,” he argues, “and a good one at that.”

“Joseph was just charming me with his wit,” Belle says sweetly. “In my experience, he’s the finest asset this store has to offer.”

“Mmmm, well, I didn’t ask you to fill out an online survey, did I Miss French?” Bedelia’s cold smile looks like it could freeze the ice cream. “And Joseph isn’t paid to entertain. He’s here to scoop things and stock shelves.”

Belle arches a brow. “People are an organization’s most valuable asset, Ms. Bluementhal. If I were you, I’d hold onto Joseph.”

“You’re not me, Miss French.”

“Praise Jesus,” Joseph mutters under his breath.

“What was that?” Her sharp eyes rake him over.

“I said this new praline jubilee that just came in from the creamery is quite nice,” he says over his shoulder. He gestures toward the blender. “Can I make you a milkshake, Ms. B?”

“Get back to work, Joseph,” she says, with a parting glare at Belle. “Aisle ten requires your attention. There’s a new shipment of kitty litter in.”

Joseph is blushing furiously when Bedelia stalks away, torn between embarrassment and delight at Belle’s staunch defense of him.

Her hand is clapped over her mouth in an effort not to laugh, and he gives her a wry smile.

She fishes a crisp ten dollar bill from her wallet and holds it out. “I hope I didn’t get you in trouble. Thank you for the banana split. It was delicious.”

“There’s no charge,” he says, shaking his head. “And don’t worry; I can handle that old battle axe.”

“Joseph, I’m not taking your money.” Her eyes flicker with something…is it pity?

The flavor of elation turns bitter in his mouth. She doesn’t want anything from you, imbecile.

He thrusts his shoulders back. He may not be as rich as her boyfriend, Merlin, but he can afford a bloody dish of ice cream. He removes a creased and damp bill from his pocket and puts it in the cash register, slamming the drawer with finality. “It’s on the house. I insist.”

She reddens and drops her money into her purse. “I didn’t mean…thank you.”

Perfect. Now he’s made them both feel awkward.

“See you next week?” he asks, wincing at the thread of desperation in his tone. He shouldn’t be letting Merlin get under his skin.

“Of course, yes.” She looks relieved. “Good night, Joseph.”

“Good night, Belle.”

He waits until she’s tucked her scarf around her neck and turned away, before sinking down on a low stool behind the bar. The movement sends a scrap of paper floating to the floor. He picks it up; it’s Merlin’s credit card receipt. Joseph crumples it in his fist and looks at the trash can. He hesitates, then shoves the slip of paper in his pocket.

[derrickappleus]

No-Bake Oatmeal Chocolate Cookies

Is it just me, or are oatmeal cookies tragically underrated?

They are soft, delicious, and always taste homemade (even when they come from the store). And yet, people always seem to stick to other classics like chocolate chip and sugar cookies. The most open minded cookie connoisseurs might pick snickerdoodles. But people hardly ever choose oatmeal cookies.

My sympathies have always gone out to these cookies. Fortunately, with these No-Bake Oatmeal Chocolate Cookies, I think their luck may be changing. This delicious, no-bake recipe is giving oatmeal cookies a major (chocolatey) makeover.

Not only is this no-bake recipe super easy, but it also makes these cookies much healthier. So, how do you not bake a cookie?

Unfortunately, it doesn’t mean we’re out here eating raw cookie dough. (Or fortunately, if you’re one of those mythical grown adults who somehow doesn’t enjoy raw cookie dough.)

Rest assured, these cookies are baked, just not in the oven. For this simple stove top recipe, just bring the ingredients (minus the oats) to a boil, cook for three minutes, then remove from heat and add the oats. Then, just drop by spoonfuls onto parchment paper, like you would with any cookie dough (unless you’re eating it raw), and let cool. The rounded spoonfuls will cool into perfect, chocolatey oatmeal cookies, no oven required.

Being a no-bake recipe, these cookies easily knock out two less-than-healthy traditional baking ingredients: flour and eggs. Oats and cocoa powder are all you need for a perfect, soft and chewy no-bake cookie.

These No-Bake Oatmeal Chocolate Cookies also include other clean ingredients like almond milk and coconut sugar. Meanwhile, this recipe also uses maple syrup for an extra touch of sweetness.

Along with the cocoa powder, to which these cookies owe their delicious chocolate flavor, this recipe also uses almond extract for flavor.

My favorite of all extracts, I use almond extract any chance I get. Pretty much any time a recipe calls for vanilla extract, I’ll substitute almond. It adds a subtle, yet rich and unique flavor that sets any recipe apart from the crowd.

I had never really used almond extract in chocolate recipes before, but thought I’d give it a try in this one. I’m happy to report that in this recipe, almond extract blends beautifully with the cocoa for a full, rich flavor.

Whether you’re one of the few loyal oatmeal cookie fans out there or you still need some convincing, I can guarantee you’ve never seen them like this before. These chocolatey no-bake cookies are a quick and healthy way to satisfy a craving for homemade sweets. Unless of course your craving is for raw cookie dough.

If you liked these No-Bake Oatmeal Chocolate Cookies, try some of these other delicious no-bake recipes:

No-Bake Almond Joy Cookies

No-Bake Chocolate Coconut Macaroons

Chocolate Peanut Butter Banana Cups

No-Bake Peanut Butter Cheesecake

No-Bake Fudge Brownie Bites

Print

No-Bake Oatmeal Chocolate Cookies

//<![CDATA[ window.ajaxurl = "https://skinnyms.com/wp-admin/admin-ajax.php"; //]]>

Yields: 12 cookies | Serving Size: 1 cookie | Calories: 205 | Total Fat: 6g | Saturated Fat: 3g | Trans Fat: 0g | Cholesterol: 10mg | Sodium: 13mg | Carbohydrates: 35g | Fiber: 3g | Sugar: 17g | Protein: 5g | SmartPoints (Freestyle): 7

Ingredients

1/4 cup almond milk

1/4 cup unsalted butter

1 cup coconut sugar

1 tablespoon maple syrup

3 tablespoons cocoa powder

1/2 tablespoon almond extract

2 cups oats

Directions

In a medium pot, stir together the almond milk, butter, coconut sugar, maple syrup, cocoa, and almond extract and bring to a boil. Boil for 3 minutes, stirring often, then remove from heat. Immediately add the oats, stirring until completely coated in the chocolate mixture.

Drop by spoonfuls onto parchment paper and allow to cool completely. Enjoy!

4.4.2.1

https://skinnyms.com/no-bake-oatmeal-chocolate-cookies/

Copyright 2018 Skinny Ms. ® All rights reserved.

For more clean and delicious sweets, treats, and recipes, follow us on Pinterest and Instagram, and don’t forget to subscribe to our Newsletter!

The post No-Bake Oatmeal Chocolate Cookies appeared first on Skinny Ms..

source https://skinnyms.com/no-bake-oatmeal-chocolate-cookies/ source https://skinnymscom.blogspot.com/2018/03/no-bake-oatmeal-chocolate-cookies.html