#custom chocolate wrappers

[astralarias]

hey I can post this now!! Some art I did of the Pepsis for my beloved best friend @the-tired-commander's birthday gift.

Thank you so much for being in my life, you're an endlessly wonderful person and you mean the world to me. You deserve all the best forever and I love you very much. Happy birthday <3

[baerdesignstudio]

This is such a great way to have custom chocolate bar wrappers for any function! This blog article includes printing instructions, supplies and designs in order to make your vision come to life!

[hamburgerhowdy]

Another wooden ball. Would it kill the makers of avocados to include a different toy, like a mood ring or novelty eraser?

Wait, it's a TOY?! Bro, we gotta ban avocadoes. It's the fuckin' Kinder Surprises all over again!

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Candles and Cuddles | Azriel x Reader

Summary: You take Azriel to get a personal wax mold of your hands intertwined, and after overcoming insecurity, settle into each other’s warm embrace.

Word Count: ~ 1.3k

Warnings: Mentions of past injuries, scars, insecurities, fluff, nothing bad.

A/N: Really liked writing this, hope you enjoy it <3

Requests are open!

You had originally gotten the idea when you’d seen all sorts of cute pictures of couples getting wax molds and melts of them holding hands in a heart shape or fingers interlocked. It was, in your opinion, positively adorable, and so you decided to drag your mate along with you for this particular adventure.

“What, pray tell, are we looking for?”

Azriel’s deep voice, calm and gleaming with curiosity, spoke softly. His head was tilted slightly to the side as you walked excitedly down the bustling streets of Velaris, your soft hand holding his larger, scarred one and pulling him gently along.

The children played in the streets, vendors calling out their prices as some roamed the streets with baskets of fresh products or supplies to try or test, hopefully, to lure in some customers. It was a warm evening, a cool breeze blowing through that lifted the autumn leaves to stir around your feet, only to settle in piles before being further blown away, or gathered into piles as the children jumped into them.

“It’s a surprise, Az, you’ll know when we get there!”

You said, being drawn into the direction of one street corner by the warm light coming from the building, only to find exactly what you were looking for with a quiet sound of triumph.

A small smile graced Azriel’s face as he peered down at you curiously, studying your happy smile and the twinkle in your eyes, one that spoke of joy, and an innocence he would gladly protect with his life.

“You’re going to love this, it’s so cute.”

You said, eagerly entering the store hand in hand with him. He ducked to avoid the top of the doorframe, wings folding in tightly to not disrupt anything inside of the small business. His shadows curiously observed and watched, taking in information on the surroundings on instinct.

There was a small desk at the front with a woman who he assumed was running the main operation, and to the left of it in another open room were pots full of different colored melted max, with a few other people already dipping a dry white base into it to make their own custom candle. It looked..intriguing, he would admit. He was ashamed that he’d never come to see all these small thriving businesses in Velaris.

“Come on!”

You said, bursting at the seams with excitement as you paid the woman up front and eagerly pulled him along to the wax room. He’d been so caught up in thinking he’d missed your entire conversation with the other female. Oops.

He patiently followed along, until you were both standing in front of a blue wax pot, a deep, rich blue like the siphons he had. Blue was a nice color. Maybe even his favorite.

“See? We dip our hands in together, and it makes a wax outline we can keep.”

You explained, beaming up at him. He returned the smile, a warm one spreading across his lips as he intertwined his hand with yours.

“I understand, love.”

He replied, waiting for you to begin moving first before submerging both of their hands in the melted wax, letting it sit a bit before pulling it out and dipping it again, and that went on for a few more layers until both of your hands were covered in a thick layer of blue dried wax, about the consistency of a babybell cheese wrapper.

A worker came over and helped you both get the wax off of your hands, leaving the mold of your hands together before the worker spoke up. It was a male with short brown hair and ghoulish skin, and distinctly Fae eyes in a shade of chocolate brown. Maybe a mix between a ghoul and Fae? The shadows seemed to think so as well.

“We could use the wax mold to make a quick concrete markup?”

He offered, at which you eagerly nodded.

“I’d love that, how long would it take?”

You asked, at which the worker simply waved a hand.

“Not long, only like, five minutes. We got a new concrete mix, the stuff works like magic! I wouldn’t be surprised if there isn’t some sort of enchantment on it…”

The worker went on, before seeming to realize he was rambling and giving a little chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I’ll have it ready for you in five, just take a seat somewhere.”

He said, gesturing to some of the seats in the small business area, before walking off to the back room with you and Azriel’s wax mold in hand. You both went and sat down next to each other, and he tried to pull you on his lap. You gave him a look. He only smirked.

“What? Shouldn’t we save space for any other potential weary customers?”

He asked with a playful tone, still smirking, at which you laughed and shook your head in fond exasperation, finally sighing and sliding onto his lap.

A few minutes later, the worker returned, the wax mold gone, but with concrete of you and Azriel’s hands intertwined together. He smiled and gave it to you, and after paying a bit extra for the stone structure.

After walking back home, and a short flight, you triumphantly set the stone structure on your favorite bookshelf in a space with good visibility.

“Don’t you love it?”

You asked Azriel with a happy grin, leaning back into him. He nodded, but when you glanced back at him, you saw a hint of worry and hesitation in his gaze. You turned to face him, wondering what was wrong. Had you done something to upset him? Had the wax made his sensitive, scarred hands start aching?

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

You asked, one hand sliding up to his cheek to move his face so he was looking down at you. He hesitated before speaking. That was odd. He never hesitated much, if ever.

“You don’t think my hand looks a bit…out of place? With all the..scarring against your smooth skin?”

His now tentative and quiet voice asked, eyes studying the structure with a meticulous gaze, picking apart every minor detailing of his winding burn scars the wax mold had picked up, and the contrast of it against your smooth, soft skin. You pulled his gaze back to yours, taking his hands in yours.

“No. Not at all. Your hands are perfect just the way they are, and they look perfect in mine, and they belong there. If you ever start talking about them like that again, I’m revoking hand privileges for a week.”

He raised a brow because of the last statement but seemed a bit comforted by your statement, going to pull his hands away, but you wouldn’t let him, instead going to kiss every inch of his scarred hands until he was a blushing mess, his shadows looking more purple than usual as they crossed and danced around you in an embrace.

“Alright, love.”

He murmured, a small smile gracing his lips as he began gently pulling you towards the bed, a sign that he wanted to go to bed. You laughed softly, relenting as you pulled your bra off from under your loose shirt, tossing it onto the floor as you crawled into bed.

Azriel shimmied out of his leathers and crawled into bed wearing only his boxers, settling under the blankets before wrapping his arms and wings around you in a cocooning embrace, his head in the hollow of your neck, deeply inhaling your scent as he allowed himself to relax.

“Goodnight, Azzie, love you.”

You murmured, already sleepy. He smiled against your skin, shadows dancing before gently settling around you and him, before closing his eyes and replying.

“Goodnight, love.”

[barefoothighlander]

The way you write ghost and like a specific reader is so good it has me going insane, on that I just read the cottage one where Simon admits to himself he loves sweet things and would it be possible to get a baker reader x Simon, with him often comming because he's hooked on their desserts but also how fine they are

something sweet

this is possibly one of my FAV tropes, thank you!!

warnings: fluff, gn pronouns, mutual pining, mentions of food throughout, ooc!ghost, kissing, not proofread

People always assumed Ghost ate purely for nutrients, the majority of the meals he consumed on base or in the field involving all four food groups, centred on protein. The truth was he had to stop himself every day from eating entire sleeves of cookies, his favourite being the bourbon biscuits that his mum used to buy.

He had an insatiable sweet tooth, always having loads of sugar in his tea, sneaking into the mess late at night to steal sweets from the kitchen, if you were to search his pockets you’d find wrappers for candy littered throughout them.

He was less restrained when he came home, often buying some sort of treat to pair with his tea when he’d visit a cafe, he’d gone for a walk that morning and decided to explore a few shops, stumbling across a bakery that he’d never been into.

It wasn’t even a question of should he go in, the scent of baked goods wafting from the open door as he looked through the window, trays lined with pastries and cakes, he was practically salivating at the sight of them.

He felt out of place in the cafe, his eyes falling in various couples having coffee together, a few others set up with their laptops as they picked at their food.

“What can I get for you?”

He didn’t intend for the interaction to be awkward, he’d never stumbled over his own words but the sight of you, hair messy, sleeves rolled up, a mess of flour sprinkled over your apron as your wide eyes and bright smile looked back at him had him frozen.

“You look like a tea guy, earl grey?”

How could you possibly know that? He moves closer to the counter, doing his best to make his stride less intimidating as he approaches you.

“How’d you know?”

“Get a lot of customers, I’ve gotten pretty good at knowing what people like”

Heat flushed his cheeks under his balaclava, his eyes nervously moving from your face to the display beside him.

“What do you recommend”

You follow his line of sight, pursing your lips as you think over the options,

“The muffins are good, chocolatines are a favourite, personally I’m partial to the biscuits”

“Which kind?”

“Bourbons are my favourite, the empires are a close second”

He hums in response, “Those are my favourite”

“You have good taste”

He moves his gaze back to you, “I like to think so”

You huff a small laugh, your fingers tapping against the counter as you lose yourself for a moment in his dark eyes.

“So earl grey and some bourbons”

“Sounds perfect”

You swallow a lump in your throat, biting back a smile as you move to collect his order, you toss a few biscuits into the bag, placing the tea bag in a cup before pouring the hot water on top, capping it and handing the pair to him.

“I threw in a few other things I thought you’d like”

“That’s very kind”

His fingers brush against yours as he takes the items from you, the contact making the hairs on your neck stand up. You drop your gaze nervously, smoothing your hair before turning back to him,

“Have a nice day” You stop your sentence abruptly, your eyes squinting slightly at him,

"Simon"

"Have a nice day Simon"

It was less than 24 hours before he was back, strutting through the front doors, oblivious to the various shared glances between other customers, his sights dead set on you.

"Back so soon?"

"How'd you know?"

"Know what?"

"Those extras you gave me yesterday, that raspberry thing and those little chocolates, how'd you know I'd like them"

"I didn't really, just a guess, they're my favourites"

"You have good taste"

"I'd hope so, I'm the one that makes them"

In a moment of realization, he looks around, there's no one else behind the counter, no noises from the kitchen, it really is just you there.

"You own the shop"

"For two years now"

"That's impressive"

You tilt your head down to hide the flush on your cheeks, smiling, "I have something for you"

"You made me something?"

"Was hoping you'd be back"

It's his turn to hide his face, even behind his mask he's scared you'd see the pink tint to his skin, the way his eyes crinkle at the edges, you push a small tray toward him, a cup of tea paired with an assortment of treats.

"I am supposed to stay in shape"

"C'mon, try them" You nudge the tray a little closer

"Only if you eat them with me"

"Deal"

You turn to grab an extra fork, resting your elbows on the table as you portion off a piece of the small pastry in front of you, careful to create the perfect bite,

"Wait, you need to get some of the jam"

"You're telling me how to eat?"

"It has to be perfect"

You use your fork to push some jam onto his piece, nodding to yourself in satisfaction, he takes a quick glance behind him to see if anyone is watching before lifting his mask just slightly, revealing his lips, your eyes linger on them for a little too long, the soft arch of them, their plush pink tint.

"This is amazing"

His praise breaks your trance, your hand covering your mouth as you smile, hiding the food inside it, "I told you"

"You're right, I'll never doubt you again"

You let out a giggle and this time he can't hide his smile, a small dimple forming beside his lips as they curve, you could watch him smile all day.

"This might be strange but, what are you doing later," You ask with a breath of confidence,

"Working off all this sugar you're feeding me"

"What about you skip the workout and meet me here at seven?"

"I'd like that"

You bite back a smile, "Great"

You pack the remaining treats in a small bag, handing it to him before bidding him goodbye, your senses focused solely on him, completely ignorant of the line of customers forming in front of your eyes.

It's a panicked few hours around the cafe, rushing to fill orders, tidying the kitchen, and attempting to find time to fix yourself up before Simon arrived.

The bell atop the door rang at 6:53, apparently, he was insistent on being early, he calls out for you, your voice echoing from the kitchen as he makes his way behind the counter.

"Hey, you're early"

"You're a mess" His eyes scan over your flour-clad form, your hair a mess as your palms dig into a circle of dough.

"Had to get some orders done before tomorrow, wanna help?"

"Not sure how good I'll be"

"Please, I could use your muscles"

"Alright," He rolls his sleeves up his arm, revealing his tattoo before reaching behind him to grab an apron, securing it around his form. You erupt in a fit of laughter as you turn your gaze to him,

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing just, never pictured you in an apron covered in tulips and daisies"

"You saying it looks bad?"

"No, you look perfect," You say, fighting back your laughter, "Okay, grab a piece and start pushing it with your palms, just like this" You demonstrate the move to him, his curious eyes watching intently as you knead the dough, sprinkling bits of flour on it.

"Got it" He places a circle of dough on the table, dropping some flour onto it before digging his palms in, quickly turning to you with worried eyes as his hand forces a hole in the centre.

"Maybe not so tough, try like this" You position yourself next to him, your sides pressing against each other as you rest your hands atop him, guiding them into the dough, your gentle fingers intertwining with his.

"Got it?"

He shakes his head lightly, "I think you need to show me again"

You laugh lightly, the sound warming his chest as you slowly release your touch, urging him to work, "That's better, I have to make some icing so I'll be over there for a minute"

You move from his side, wiping your hands on your apron before standing in front of the large mixer, he watches as you struggle to lift the large bag of powdered sugar, dropping his task to help you. He lifts the bag with ease, watching as you release a small breath of gratitude,

"Wait not all at... once" Your instructions come too late, he dumps the entire bag into the bowl, a cloud of sugar enveloping the room as you drop your head in laughter.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know"

You raise your hands, palms to the roof as you smile, "It's okay, kinda looks like snow"

"Kind of"

His gaze softens as you close your ears, tilting your neck back and slightly sticking your tongue out, allowing the sugar to settle on the muscle, the sweetness dancing over your tastebuds.

You smile, lifting your head back up and opening your eyes, he's watching you with such adoration in his eyes, his heart swelling out of his chest, he'd never met anyone that maintained such a wonder in themselves, you were so warm, so kind, he'd always been punished for mistakes but the sight of you unknowingly creating a happy memory out of one of his mishaps has his brain rewiring.

He doesn't think, just reaches for you, one hand lifting his mask while the other grabs at your waist, tugging you into him, his lips crash into yours as if his addiction to sweets wasn't enough, you literally tasted like sugar, he couldn't get enough. His free hand moving to cup your jaw, his thumb swiping over the skin as you press yourself into him, your gentle hands settling around his arms as he holds you close.

It's intoxicating, his taste, his scent, tobacco, vanilla, and sugar, you had managed to escape the consequences of a sweet tooth until now, this was a taste you'd never get sick of.

He pulls back with a heavy breath, his chest rising against yours as he rests his forehead against yours, that beautiful smile beaming back at you as your flesh ignites under his touch.

"Kiss me like that again and I'll give you all the baked goods you want"

He lets out a laugh, a genuine laugh, one he hasn't heard in years before pressing his lips to yours again, smiling against your skin as the sugar settles around the two of you, cloaking the room in a soft white dust.

[vessels-two-front-teeth]

In The Low Light- Chapter 2

Photo credit and source unknown

Notes: tumblr is fucking testing my patience with this. This will be about the 6th time I’ve tried to make this post, so if the formatting is weird I am going to break something. Quality control by @365granitegirlx thank you Professor Wolfie, you’re a saint and a lifesaver. Anywhoozle, this one has me allllll up in my feels. Enjoy!

Masterlist (please read first)

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Tags/warnings/etc: Biker!IV x Fem!OC, disordered eating habits but you have to squint, smoking, aggressive words of affirmation, sweet sugary fluff that’ll make you diabetic

Word count: 2368

Summary: IV takes some time over the week to show Sadie that she can trust him, he drives her home from work, and he asks her on a date.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The following day I found myself replaying the interactions with Mr. Numerals. He was clearly no stranger to dangerous situations and was not to be toyed with. He was about to offer to walk me home or something. Why was he so concerned with my safety? And my biggest question: why was he being so kind to me? He was obviously wanting to get something out of this for himself, but I was lost as to what. He didn’t act like a starving animal drooling over a piece of meat. He said it himself, he may be a criminal, but he isn’t a monster. Maybe he’s just genuinely being nice for the sake of being nice… I’m pulled from my conflicted thoughts by the sound of a customer obnoxiously clearing their throat at the pharmacy counter. I spend entirely too much time explaining to the senior gentleman that he didn’t have any refills left. When he finally leaves with a dramatic huff of frustration and a few colourful metaphors, I tell the pharmacist that I’m going on a smoke break. I take my name tag off, grab my cigarettes and lighter, and head for the front doors.

As I walk along the side of the building, my gaze focuses on the sight of a familiar looking motorcycle, the rider leaning against the seat. He’s wearing the exact same thing as yesterday—helmet on, the visor pulled down. In his hands is a cheap flip phone, and his fingers move deftly across the buttons. I bring my cigarette to my mouth and light it, inhaling deeply before speaking. “I thought I told you not to follow me.” I blow the smoke from my lungs and shiver as a cold breeze blows across the parking lot.

His obstructed face turns towards me and he reaches up to pull off his helmet. Underneath is the same mask as yesterday. “I’m not following you. I swear I had no idea you worked here.” Surprise colours his voice, and his eyes reflect this. I almost believe him.

“Mmhmm…” I walk to the wall of the building and lean against it, taking another drag off my smoke. My eyes catch on his, and I hold his gaze for a few seconds. “I’d tell you I believe you, but I’d be lying.”

He chuckles slightly and breaks eye contact first. “I don’t blame you for not trusting me, however I am being honest. I’m here to make a business deal. I didn’t know you worked here.” He brings his eyes back up to mine, and I see no deception in them.

I struggle to find something to say, and before I can, my stomach growls loudly enough for him to hear it, even from several feet away. I wrap my arms around myself as another icy breeze hits my skin.

“Have you eaten anything yet?” Before I can answer, he turns to the back of his bike, opens a large compartment, and begins searching through it. He seems to find what he’s looking for and turns, walking closer until he’s in front of me. He holds his hand out, one of those high calorie protein bars in his palm, though it’s a brand I don’t recognize.

“I’ll be fine.” I shake my head no at him. My stomach growls again in protest.

“Please, I insist.” He pushes his hand even closer. “You need to eat.”

I sigh, reaching out and taking the bar from his grasp, a small smile playing at the edges of my mouth. “Thank you.” I rip open the wrapper and take a bite. It’s chocolate and some kind of dried fruit. It’s absolutely delicious. My eyes shut of their own accord as I enjoy the taste. “Oh my god…”

I hear a deep chuckle from him and feel a flush in my cheeks. I open my eyes and find him watching me, his eyes crinkled at the edges from the unseen smile on his face. I pull my eyes away and look at my feet, the warmth in my face burning even hotter now. I take another bite.

I hear a faint buzz, and he pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Unfortunately, I need to cut this short. Enjoy the last few bites, princess.” He gives me a small nod, and turns back to his bike. He picks up his helmet, but turns to look at me before he puts it on. “I like it when you smile. Your whole face lights up. It’s a beautiful sight.” With that he pushes the helmet over his head, settles into the seat, and the engine roars to life. He backs out of the parking spot, and drives away leaving me reeling from his compliment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day happens much the same. Only this time when I walk outside, his helmet is off and in his hands are a to-go cup from the coffee shop across the lot and another protein bar. He hands me both when I get close enough, our fingers brushing for a second before he pulls away.

“I didn’t know what you’d like, so I got peppermint tea with a little bit of honey. And another one of those bars.” His voice is soft, with a touch of uncertainty. His eyes avoid mine, and his fingers twitch.

He’s so charming. This thought flies through my mind, catching me off guard. “Uhm- Thank you, you didn’t have to get me anything.” My voice is hushed. “It’s too kind of you.” I step away, moving to stand against the building. A harsh cold wind blows over the parking lot, and I hold the cup close to my chest to absorb the warmth. I shiver hard and my teeth chatter together.

“Actually,” he rummages through the compartment on the back of the bike again, this time pulling out a small throw blanket. “I think I did. I wanted to make sure you had something to eat, and a hot drink.” He shakes out the blanket and walks toward me. He stops directly in front of me, and holds the blanket out with an expectant look in his eyes. “May I?” I hesitate for a second before timidly nodding and pulling away from the cold wall behind me. He drapes the blanket around my shoulders, pulling the corners across my chest and I tuck them under my arms. His fingers land on my shoulders and trace down my arms lightly, and I glance up to find his eyes on me.

A few moments pass before the words tumble out of my mouth. “Why are you being so kind to me? You don’t owe me anything. And besides, you said it yourself: you don’t need to clean up someone else’s mess.” I pause as I flick my gaze between his eyes. “What do you want from me?”

His hands drop from my arms and he lets out a small exasperated laugh; he shakes his head slightly and looks up at the gray sky. “Princess, I don’t want anything from you…it’s what I want for you. And that’s your safety. As for why? Well, I feel obligated to take care of you. Lastly,” he turns his eyes on mine, and I’m captivated by the intensity there. “You are a person deserving of kindness. You are not a mess that needs to be cleaned up. Do not take what I say to a couple of idiots for what I think about you. You would be sorely mistaken.” There’s a stern tone to his voice that makes me feel like a child in trouble. “Am I understood?”

I swallow heavily and nod, my eyes glued to his.

“Words, please, princess.” His eyes are still drilling into mine, and his voice borders on frustration.

“Yes, I understand.” My voice is quiet, and I can breathe again when he finally releases my gaze from his. I study my shoes, and I hear him heave a sigh.

“I should go. Keep the blanket, you need it more than I do. I’ll see you soon.” He puts his helmet on, and starts the engine, quickly pulling out of his spot and driving away. Once again, I’m left standing playing his words over in my mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the rest of the week, the pattern repeats. He hands me a hot cup of tea and a protein bar, and I pull the blanket around my shoulders. We talk about nothing special for a few minutes. He never stays for long, five minutes at most. I don’t question his motives, and I accept his offerings without hesitation. He makes kind gestures to me, and we share a few touches here and there that linger for just long enough. He never pushes any further than that.

Until Friday that is. “If you’re comfortable with it, I’d like to drive you home today. I don’t like the thought of you walking alone in the cold on such a busy street.” He’s leaning against the wall beside me this time. Today he has his own cup, and when the breeze blows just right, I’m greeted by the aroma of decadent hot chocolate.

I’m halfway through my tea, and swallow the last bite of the bar before I answer. “Sure, on one condition.” He looks at me with an odd combination of disbelief and curiosity. I hold his gaze with my own. “Tell me your name.”

He drops his eyes to the ground and laughs softly. “For now,” He looks back at me, and reaches up to his left shoulder and taps his finger on the numerals. “You can call me four. And yours?”

A small smile washes over my face. “Sadie. It’s nice to meet you IV.”

After a few more minutes of easy banter, he finishes his drink and makes for his bike, pausing and turning back to face me. “What time are you off?”

“I finish at 5:30”

He nods, and gets on his bike. “I’ll see you then.” He puts his helmet on and pulls out of the lot.

When my shift ends, I find myself filled with a strange excitement. I put on my warmer layers, and head outside to the usual spot.

He’s there waiting, an extra helmet under his arm. When I stop in front of him, he stands and flicks his visor up. “Ok, first off, you’ll have to take your hat off. It won’t fit under the helmet.” I take the woolen hat off, and stuff it into my pocket. “Now, you’ll have to tie your hair back. Or it’ll all push into your face and you won’t be able to see anything.” I pull my hair back into a low ponytail and look at him expectantly. “Perfect. This is going to feel a little tight at first, but it’s supposed to fit a bit snug. We don’t want it to come off too easily.” He places the helmet on the top of my head and gently pushes it down. Once fully on, he leans his forehead against mine, his eyes holding mine. “How’s that feel?”

“Good. A bit snug, but good.” My eyes flick between his eyes. They’re so pretty. I could look into them for hours. They crinkle at the edges with a hidden smile.

“Good.” He drops a wink at me, and leans back. His deft hands reach for the chin strap, fastening it under my jaw. Lastly he reaches up and pulls my visor down, then his own. “And we are good to go. Ready?”

I nod, “ready.”

He gets on first, and I climb on behind him. He shows me where to rest my feet, and I hesitantly hold onto his sides, suddenly overtaken by shyness. He turns his head towards me. “You’ll want to hold on tight, love. Don’t worry, I don’t bite.” I can hear the smile in his voice. I slide my arms around his middle and lean further into him. I catch a little of his cologne, and the heady scent leaves me breathless. I feel one of his hands come to rest on my forearm for a moment.

He asks me my address, and I freeze for a moment. Anxious thoughts flit through my mind but I push them down before answering him. The engine roars to life and we pull out of the lot.

The ride is short, much shorter than it would be to walk. When we pull into the parking lot of my apartment building, I feel a little disappointed that it’s over so quickly. We climb off the bike, and he takes off my helmet for me. I can’t stop the wide grin that consumes my face, and my cheeks hurt. It’s been a long time since I’ve smiled this much.

He takes his own helmet off, and his eyes have those little crinkles at the edges again, and my fingers twitch with the desire to gently brush over them. He’s so beautiful. “I’d like to take you on a proper date sometime. I hope that’s not too fast.”

My cheeks flush, and my eyes drop to the ground for a second before flicking back to his. “No, that’s not too fast. And I’d love to.” My face still hurts from the smile plastered across it.

He places a hand over his heart, closes his eyes and tilts his head back, while releasing a relieved sigh. His knees bend slightly before straightening again. “You just made me the happiest man alive, princess. How does tomorrow night, 7 pm sound? I’ll pick you up here?” He looks down at me, and his eyes are sparkling.

“That sounds perfect, I’m counting down the seconds.” He nods at this, and I take it as my cue to head inside.

As I go to walk past him, he catches my hand in his. I look at him, surprised by the prolonged presence of his skin on mine. His eyes lock onto mine, and he pulls my hand up to the mouth of his mask, pressing the hard material into my knuckles. I can hear the soft kiss behind his mask. “Goodnight, Sadie.”

My breath shudders a little, and my response comes out as a whisper. “Goodnight, IV.”

[unhonest-iago]

Just. Tea.

Dipper

Orders the drink with the most caffeine in it. Is the type of customer who tries to find out how many shots of espresso the barista can legally put in the drink.

Just to then add a red bull on top of all of it. More of a Dutch Bros customer than a Starbies

Some days he doesn’t feel like coffee so he’ll drink straight black coffee. Even adds salt to it, though by accident. 

Is the only one out of the group who has a rewards card

Mabel

Is the 'I'll have a mocha caramel latte-chino / Made with skim milk, no whipped cream /' type of customer where it's not a complex order by any means, just long winded

Orders the sweetest, most colorful drinks on the menu; y'know those unicorn frappes? exactly that. Something that would give anyone a cavity.

When she does go against her usual go-to order, it's for those holiday specials. Like how there's pumpkin spice in October, peppermint in November, and then eggnog in December.

Asks for a straw no matter the drink, a collection of straw wrappers stuck at the bottom of a cup holder. Ends up making orgami stars out of them before throwing them away.

Soos

Doesn't really drink coffee or tea. If he does, orders a hot chocolate or a chai tea. Prefers soft drinks as his mode of caffeine

Collects soda tabs in a box/jar, makes a random figurine out of them once it’s filled up

Will surprise the rest of the crew with their coffee order every once in a while

Mabel coaxes him into trying a sip of her’s as to convert him to the ‘dark side,’ maniacally laughing afterwards

Wendy

Similarly to Soos, Wendy gets either a steamed apple juice or steamed milk type of drink

Using the cup more as a hand warmer no matter the season

Switches to a strawberry lemonade in the summer if they have it, or a herbal tea with honey in it

Has had a few books taken out of her pay checks after accidentally using them as a coaster

[sallowsdiary]

You won’t believe the latest episode in what I’m starting to think is an elaborate prank by the universe to ruin my life. This time, it involved—who else?—the new girl and an incident that will likely go down in Hogwarts history as the Great Chocolate Frog Fiasc.

It all started innocently enough. I was in Honeydukes, browsing for some sweets to lift my spirits after the broom closet disaster (which, I should note, people are still talking about—can you believe it?). I spotted the new girl across the shop, looking at a display of Chocolate Frogs, and I thought to myself, “This is my chance to prove I’m not a total buffoon.”

So, with the kind of confidence only a desperate Slytherin can muster, I sauntered over to her and casually asked if she needed any recommendations. She smiled (which should have been my first warning sign), and said she hadn’t tried Chocolate Frogs yet. Perfect! I’d buy her one, show her how they work, and we’d laugh over some witty banter—classic Sebastian charm in action.

I picked out a particularly lively-looking Chocolate Frog and handed it to her, explaining how they’re enchanted to jump. But, in an effort to seem extra impressive, I added, “Of course, it’s all about timing. You just have to be quick, or it’ll hop away. Here, let me show you.”

I should have known better. The moment I unwrapped the frog, it shot out of my hand like a Bludger on a mission. It bounced off the counter, ricocheted off a shelf, and then launched itself directly at the new girl’s face. I lunged to grab it, but instead of catching the frog, I knocked over a massive display of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans.

The next thing I knew, she was ducking as hundreds of beans cascaded down around us, while the Chocolate Frog continued its rampage through the shop. I tried to play it cool, but it’s hard to look suave when you’re being pelted by candy and desperately chasing a rogue frog around.

Just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, the Chocolate Frog made one final leap—right into her hair. I froze, staring in horror as the enchanted treat tangled itself in her curls. She let out a squeak, and I, in a moment of sheer panic, reached out to… help.

Bad idea. The frog wriggled out of her hair, leaving behind a sticky trail of chocolate and bits of wrapper. It then leapt onto a nearby customer (who was not pleased, to say the least) before finally making its escape out the door.

And there I was, standing in the middle of Honeydukes, covered in Every Flavor Beans, with the new girl looking at me like I was some sort of Chocolate Frog-wielding lunatic.

To her credit, she didn’t hex me on the spot, which I think shows remarkable restraint. Instead, she just laughed—a genuine, amused laugh, not the pitying kind—and said, “Well, I guess I’ll have to be quicker next time.”

I mumbled something incoherent, blushing furiously, and offered to buy her another Chocolate Frog, which she politely declined. Probably for the best, really.

After she left, I spent the next half hour helping the shopkeeper clean up the mess I’d made, all while swearing to myself that I’d never try to impress anyone ever again. Not with Chocolate Frogs, at least.

So, here I am, trying to figure out how on earth I’m ever going to live this down. I’m beginning to think that every time I’m within five feet of that girl, something catastrophic is bound to happen. Maybe I should just avoid her altogether—though who am I kidding? Fate seems determined to throw us together in the most ridiculous ways possible.

—Sebastian

[bluepallilworld]

The sun goes down and the creatures...

It is time...

Welcome to the party!

Here's the dark cream shipkids halloween collab!

Warning for blood, halloween music and some horror themed background elements ;3

Close-ups! (Click)

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

Credits time!

The kids:

-Mimosa and Mu are mine

-Celestial Star and Luna Light belong to @help-im-a-gay-fish

-Estrella belongs to @shinechermont

-Aim belongs to @zu-is-here

-Ruby and Meridix belong to @orange-dreamzer

-Ares belongs to @puddle-of-creativity

-Nightingale belongs to @catlover31

-Soltice belongs to @laf-e-taffy

-Diaphanous belongs to @amarald

-Mirage belongs to @ari-cuno

-Mager belongs to @faeroviolet

-Fenzo belongs to @im-to-good-for-names

-Andromeda and Eclipse belong to @dragon-tamer-1

The background+ team (look at how big it was this year!!!):

- @diofasolia did the music (spooky scary skeletons :P) (I did some singing), the customized pumpkins, the bloody chair and the lovely lady coming out of the tv

-@orange-dreamzer did some bats, the big cake, a... flower a bit special and empty wrappers

-@pmd-appreciation did seats (pumpkin pouffe, dusty stool, skeleton armchair), the cauldron of snacks, horror movie poster, string of bats, the window, the drinks, the candles

-@amarald did the table, the black cat, the chocolate cherries and a witch hat

[fictionalsownme]

More Than A Woman | wilford warfstache x gn!viewer / reader |

chapter one - "I've known you very well"

A/N: hi everyone!! I'm so excited to post this! Usually I spend a long time on the stuff I write but I wrote a good chunk of this in a feverish burst haha, I've been wanting to write for Wil and had such a clear idea of how I see him in my head for so long :)) This fic will probably be around 10 chapters~ish and progress will probably be a little slow but I'm also trying to get faster at my writing so I guess we'll see! Getting it down is always the hardest, then you spend a bit of time hating it, then the fixing can start! Anyway, I hope you guys like this, I love this dorky weirdo a lot for whatever reason, and I'd love to write for other egos too :) ((there might be a guest appearance or two in here in the last few chapters if plans don't change 👀)) hope you guys enjoy the first chapter at least! lmk 🥰! word count: 2.9k notes: reader is gender-neutral, similar to all of mark's stuff :) -- the title is just after the song! no pronouns or descriptors are used other than the occasional they/them. reader is the viewer (& district attorney) from wkm, adwm, ahwm, iswm, etc, but that won't come up until later. wmlw wilford. story will be mostly fluff, some hurt/comfort & angst, lots of romance and flirting! story is adapted from an idea I had for my self insert. we will get into some lore stuff (or at least my understanding of the lore 👀) and filling in gaps with headcannons, but it's mostly about wilford & reader and I'll try to explain as we go so don't worry about it too much if you don't know all of it. especially since I don't know if my understanding is always 100% accurate 👉👈 let's have fun yall! 💞

masterlist | AO3

The music playing softly over the convenience store speakers was pleasant, if slightly boring. Like elevator music— there only to help ease the passing of time. Your night shift would end soon, and the sky could be seen as it lightened more every minute through the windowed front of the building.

Other than that, the old store was quiet. Dusty. Pink and orange neon strips lined the walls near the ceiling. They overpowered the dated fluorescent lights, casting everything in a slightly peach haze. Like a dream. 

Different sections of the store were marked with neon too, the letters glowed against the wall denoting the drinks, the snacks, the hot food… You liked your little store. Even if the unyielding isolation of your work made you a bit… complacent. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d truly talked with someone.

The ice creams chilled your fingers through the wrappers as you pulled them from their box and slotted them into place. Even with the cold air of the freezer wafting over you, you could smell the cool summer air coming in the sliding front doors.

You liked to prop them open on dawns like these. The convenience store lights did draw in the occasional pestering bug, but they usually found their way out again before long. You did get a bat once. Albeit a little crazed and frantic, you were surprised to find it harmless. Maybe a little lost. Now that thing seemed like it would never leave. 

Refocusing on your task, you brushed your condensation-soaked fingers on your work apron, tied tight behind your neck and around your back, and shut the freezer door. 

The motion alert chimed a pleasant tune through the staticky old speakers as a customer entered the open doors from the street.

You called an automatic, “Welcome in~,” and went about straightening a shelf of snack bars and chocolate. You didn’t bother to look in their direction as you heard them make their way through the aisles.

“Pardon me,” said their strange, nearly British accent from beside you now. You turned to the source of the voice, the man who’d just walked in, and your eyes went to his outfit first. 

A silky-- almost sparkly in how it caught the light-- lavender shirt with mismatched buttons revealed expanses of his bare chest. It was paired with white bell-bottoms and a fake pink afro hanging half-off his head, about to fall off. He had olive skin and dark hair-- nearly black--, fluffy and sticking up every which way like hands had been running through it. Scruffy facial hair framed a thick mustache that tinted slightly pink where it turned up at the ends.

He looked… honestly, he looked ridiculous. But the 70s getup was fun, you supposed. And his eyes-- dark brown and monolid-- were handsome. Underneath all the… extra mess. You blinked, slowly, in a way that felt like waking up.

“Uh, hi. Are you coming from a costume party or something?” It was August, but you supposed it was never too early to start the spooky season. 

“Oh! Do you know of one? I do love a good costume. But no. Just the regular-sort. Just woke up from one.” He scanned the products near his head, grabbed a protein bar, sniffed the wrapper, guffawed, and put it back.

“You just woke up? Are you alright?”

“Oh, worry not, friend, this is normal for my level of reverie! I’m not even hungover!” He laughed, his hands going to his hips.

You stared at him.

“I was just looking for something to gnaw on! To nourish myself before I’m on my way.” His eyes were still traveling all over, not really seeing you.

Now in theory, a strange man coming in at this hour, acting even stranger, with his clothes disheveled? You knew you should be on your way to your safe space behind the counter to get him checked out and exiting the store as fast as possible. But there was something about him… 

Something you couldn’t place…

Instead you raised your eyebrows and relaxed against the cooler door. “Uh, I guess that depends on what kind of food you like,” You offered. After a moment, his gaze landed on you and he seemed to finally take you in. Your uniform, your crossed arms, your patient expression, your features. His face scrunched into confusion.

A moment passed, staring at each other like that. “Your shirt’s looking a little rough, you know.”

“Have we met, friend?” He asked as he began to fix his buttons. 

You watched passively as more of his chest came into view. He either didn’t notice or didn’t mind your blatant staring. You weren’t sure why you were staring, or what you were feeling as you did so. 

You weren’t gawking at his abs or anything-- well,-- not that he didn’t have abs. He did, sort of. The expanse of his chest and abdomen were tight with toned muscle. He definitely wasn’t lacking abs, anyway. Either way… this was about something different. 

You wondered for a moment if a vague familiarity was what you were picking up on, but quickly dismissed it.

“I feel like I’d remember meeting you.” 

You realized with a start that your comment could be seen as flirtatious, and added quickly, “Just, you know-- generally.”

But he just hummed and spun on his heels, turning away. You sighed and found yourself in-step behind him, hands in your uniform pockets. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

“Well, either way!” He started, his energy returning tenfold. “Let's see what this cute little shop has to eat!” 

For some reason, you asked, “Do you have money?” 

He froze. “Er, no~. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Mind what?”

“Well, spotting me of course! Let’s just say I owe you one, eh friend?”

You rolled your eyes, smiling. “Thought so.” 

Thought so? Maybe you did know him… 

It was your turn to squint in displaced confusion. “What’s your name?”

His voice came from behind you and you spun around, your shoes squeaking on the tile floor. When did he sneak around you? 

He bent over and twirled his hand, a flamboyant bow finally knocking the afro off his head. “Wilford Warfstache, at your service.”

“That’s your name?” 

He righted himself. “For now.” It suited him well enough, but for some reason it sounded misplaced.

… But no, either way, you definitely hadn’t met him before. You didn’t know many people in the first place, let alone someone so eccentric.

Still, you were curious about him. Curious about his personality and who he was. He felt sort of like a puzzle waiting to be solved. And so far, despite his quirks, despite how admittedly weird you’d also been acting, he’d been friendly. You couldn’t say the staring and prodding questions were too in-character for you. At least not when it came to customers. 

His hair looked softer without the wig to weigh it down-- parted at his brow and long enough to fluff over the tips of his ears and end where his neck met his spine. You reached down to scoop the curly mop of synthetic hair up off the floor.

“Where did you get this thing?”

He hummed something like ‘I don’t know’, his eyes sort of wide like a clueless puppy’s. 

“What, you just kind of have it?”

“Yea’p.”

You squinted at him, a smirk forming on your lips. “How about I do you a favor and throw this away?”

He shrugged, hummed an ‘alright’ sound, and turned away. 

“Oh no, I was kidding! God, here--!” You had to grab his wrist to stop him from wandering off further and placed the pink afro in his hand.

You had just been trying to tease him, but now you just felt bad. “Look, Wilford, you want something to eat? We have to throw the hot food out every night. You can have a taquito or a slice of pizza or something if you want.”

Then he was frozen again-- staring down at where your fingers wrapped around his wrist. Your eyes followed his gaze down and then you were staring too.

A moment passed. Then two. Finally, you let go and crossed your arms again, tucking your hands away where they couldn’t embarrass you again.

“... Fuck, I’m sorry. I-I don’t know why I did that.” You did your best to clear your throat.

But he was still stuck there. He blinked a few times and his gaze met your eyes, his brows gathering together. 

“Wh-What did you say your name was, friend?” He seemed so… serious all of sudden. So dire.

You hadn’t mentioned it yet, but told him with a hesitant voice. 

His expression blanked, eyes widening. He brought his arm, the offending afro in tow, to his chest, touching his wrist where you’d held it.

“Oh…” 

You raised your brows and asked softly, “Sorry, do you know me, then?”

“Hm?” And he blinked like his mind was clearing, like he’d forgotten you were there. 

He cleared his throat, smiled-- ear to ear-- his mustache lopsided like a cartoon. “Oh-- nevermind about that! Some food would be lovely, if you don’t mind.”

His eyes were sparkling. 

“Sure. I mean, it’s nothing fancy. Here,” And you walked over towards the front counter. Wilford trailed close behind you-- holding onto the wig in his hands like a school kid holding a lunch box-- his gaze wandering over the store again like he hadn’t seen it the first time.

You arrived at the hot foods section, a glassed-off section of day-old food over heated rods. You shrugged. “If you have a sensitive stomach, maybe don’t,” you started, “but it’s mostly fine to be honest. I eat it if I’m in a pinch, you know.”

You hopped up to sit on the counter, your legs facing Wilford, and leaned back to reach around and grab the tongs waiting there. You straightened and clapped them together twice. You offered him a smile. “What’ll it be, Mr. Warfstache?” Then a quieter, “--that was your last name right?”

“Do you gravitate towards anything yourself?”

“Can’t go wrong with a slice of pizza, I guess. Even here.”

His smile grew sort of soft. “Then that. If you please.”

“You got it.”

You leaned over again and served up the slice of moderately warm and slightly greasy pizza on a brown napkin and passed it off to him. 

“Much obliged.”

You got one for yourself too, and when you righted and your eyes found Wilford again, he was sitting in a retro-style diner chair you’d never seen before-- his feet against the edge of the counter beside you.

You couldn’t help the surprised laughter that choked out of you. “Wha-- where did you even find that?”

The chair teetered on its two legs as he leaned precariously back, tilting his head at your question. The pink wig sat in his lap and you couldn’t help thinking it looked like some weird dog.

“Well, there’s no need to worry! I’m only borrowing it, I’m not a barbarian.”

And you just knew you weren’t getting more of an answer than that.

“So who even are you?” You asked as he took a bite of the pizza, somehow pulling all the cheese right off the top in one piece. He pouted down at the offending mozzarella, slurping it into his mouth and swallowing it. “Do you live around here?”

“Mm. I don’t really live anywhere. Much more the exploring-- ever on the move-- type.”

He was so expressive. It really felt like talking to an old cartoon come-to-life or something. You turned to lean against the side of the glass cover, swinging your legs so your feet rested on the counter, not far from his still against the edge. You weren’t touching at all, but you were surprised at how quickly the two of you fell into a casual-- albeit timidly curious-- rhythm. 

“So what do you do?” And you began to eat too.

He beamed, his smile reaching all the way to his eyes. “I’m an interviewer! Warfstache Tonight, that’s what my show is called! It’s quite a professional endeavor!”

You smiled and hummed around your bite of pizza, impressed. That actually explained a lot. And it suited him nicely enough. “Sounds pretty glamorous.”

“And what about you? You can’t just be a convenience store clerk!” He seemed so affronted by the idea. Crinkling his nose, dropping his voice an octave. “How dreadfully boring.”

You winced. “‘Just a convenience store clerk?’ Ouch, Wilford…” You couldn’t help frowning down at your slice. 

 “Oh! No no, pardon me!” He let the chair fall back to four legs, waving the idea way with a panicked hand. “I only meant that… this isn't what truly stirs your passions, is it? Do you do anything at your leisure? For work or just… something you enjoy?”

You squinted at him. But you didn’t really think he was trying to insult you. And he wasn’t wrong. It just… wasn’t always the most fun when someone pointed it out. Especially like that. 

You sighed, fidgeting as you considered his question. “Not right now… This job keeps me pretty occupied. But you know, it’s not too bad. It keeps me, I don’t know, grounded I guess.”

He thought for a moment, then nodded, taking another bite. “I do hope you get more opportunities soon, then.” He said, surprisingly grounded.

You looked at him. “... Thanks.” And you meant it.

“And… my apologies for the earlier, uh, miswording.”

 “That’s fine… I’d be curious to hear more about your show, though! Have you interviewed anyone interesting or anything?”

A beat. A sort of tiredness settled into his shoulders and he peered up at you. “The odd gold-star guest did wander in from time to time. I’m not sure if my skills were quite deserving of them at the time.”

Was that… shame?

“The truth is, I couldn’t quite live up to the role. I--” He laughed, pained. He cleared his throat. “I’m taking a bit of a break from show business for the moment.”

Ah. So that’s what happened. You offered him a sympathetic smile. “To party? That’s probably why you don’t have any money, Wilford. And why you have to rely on shitty convenience store food?” You held up your greasy napkin like it was evidence.

“Now don’t underestimate the power of a good party! And this food is fine, I’m grateful for it,” He crumpled the now empty napkin and gestured wildly with it. “The truth is I get by just fine. I’m just not sure what else I should be doing.”

You looked out the front windows. The sky was getting lighter. The timer marking the end of your shift would go off any minute.

So maybe that’s why he’d been asking you about your passions. You felt bad for him. He was strange, to be sure. And a little hard to follow. But he was also… sweet. He had a softness about him.

And still… there was that feeling that hadn’t disappeared since meeting him. Like… like your soul recognized him. Maybe not deeply. But distantly. Like you’d met him in a dream. It was a ridiculous notion. Ridiculous didn’t seem beyond his territory.

You turned, legs coming down from the counter once again. You leaned forward, your hand landing at the junction of his shoulder and neck. His silk shirt was soft under your fingers. His eyes jumped up to yours and you looked down at him with a smile. 

“You liked doing your show right? You want to be an interviewer?”

He nodded slowly. His lashes fluttered. 

“Then that’s what you should be doing! You just have to try again!” You shrugged with one shoulder. “It might suck a lot. And you might fail again. But pick yourself back up. Keep going. I’m sure you can do it if you keep at it and think outside the box, you know. Failing only means failing if you stop.”

You leaned back, your hand sliding away. He stared at you.

“That’s what the rest of us do, anyway. Honestly, maybe you should do your show online! You know, livestream it or something. I’m sure you’d find your own way to it.”

Slowly, a smile crept back in, the corners of his eyes creasing. 

“What a wonderful idea…” 

God, his eyes… 

You looked down at your own napkin, laughing a little at yourself. “Wilford, I promise, the advice I just gave you was nothing crazy.”

“Well, perhaps it’s just a little too rare that I get a pick-me-up.”

You hopped down from the counter. “Swing by whenever, I’ll hand them out for free. Though, if you’re always on the move, I guess you’re probably not in town for long, huh?”

He quickly followed your lead and stood, his chair nearly falling in his haste. “Uh— w-well I, I don’t know, I could always… linger for a day or two. Hard to say really.” 

“Uh huh.” You smirked at him, raising your brows. “Well, if that constant partying you have going on brings you back here, feel free stop in, okay? … It’d be nice to have someone in here every once in a while. Well, someone friendly, anyway.” 

“Right. Will do. Of course.”

You gave him two solid pats on the chest and turned to throw the napkins away behind the counter. When you turned to face him again, he was gone.  Only slightly confused, you quickly recovered and yelled a quick, “bye~!” to the now empty store.

[impala-dreamer]

A Wish Come True

A Doctor Who Story

~Rose wakes up to a very unique and lovely surprise...~

The Doctor x Rose Tyler

1,198 Words

Warnings: Fluff!

A/N: My first ever DW fic. A birthday gift for the one and only @mariekoukie6661. Only for you, my dear. <33

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

"So… I believe this is where you, uh, make a wish..."

The Doctor swallowed hard and looked down at his blonde companion. Rose was still reeling from the surprise and a little more than sleepy.

She'd woken up to a nearly pitch black control room; the usually glowing orbs were dim, the panels seemingly switched off. The air was cool, but nowhere as cold as the icy breath of space. She shivered and rubbed her hands vigorously against the backs of her arms.

"Blimey, it's cold in here, 'innt?" 

There was no answer, not even the echo of her own voice bouncing off the magically cavernous room. 

"Doctor?" 

She stood and felt her way to the controls, blindly searching for a switch to bring the lights up. She really had no idea where it could be, but if she pushed enough buttons, something usually happened.

"Oh, come on! Where are you?"

The flick of a lighter hit her ears and a tiny flame appeared to her left.

In the glow, she saw dark brown eyes and the long lines of a beautiful face that she'd come to know better than her own.

The Doctor lit a small yellow candle and she could make out that it was smushed into a chocolate frosted cupcake. He smiled a brilliant smile, all teeth and glee. 

Surprised, Rose rubbed at her eyes and smiled in return. 

"What's all this?" She asked, hoping the blush burning her cheeks was hidden in the shadows. 

He beamed and held out the treat. 

"Happy Birthday, Rose."

Pink lips curled into a smile that nearly took his breath away. Two hearts beat fast and she took a step closer, pursed her lips and blew out the candle. She laughed a little and he couldn’t stop staring. She was beautiful and innocent and fierce, nothing he’d ever encountered before. And best of all- she was with him no matter what. 

He cleared his throat and tore his gaze from her stunning brown eyes. 

"So… I believe this is where you, uh, make a wish..."

“Brushing up on Earth customs?” she teased. 

The Doctor laughed gently. “I do know some things.” 

With dramatic flare, Rose took a deep breath and screwed her eyes shut. She held her breath for what seemed like forever and then let it slowly out in a quiet whistle. 

When she opened her eyes, he was there, handsome and intriguing. Sometimes, she almost forgot that he was something like a million years old and not even human, but it didn’t really matter to her. He was who he was, and he was perfect. 

Rose reached for the cupcake and her fingers brushed lightly over his. There was a spark there, and surely they both felt it, but neither made mention. They each looked away, shy and a little embarrassed. 

Rose fiddled with the paper wrapper and The Doctor tucked his hands into the pockets of his blue pinstripe slacks.

The tension was as thick as the cake frosting and Rose took a taste, licking a bit of chocolate from her thumb. 

“Doctor?” 

He turned back to her. “Yes?” 

“Why’ve you got all the lights and heat off?” 

 His brow creased a little, momentarily confused. 

“Oh!” Answers and mischief lit a smile across his face. “All the better to see your present,” he replied. 

With a quick snap of his fingers, the T.A.R.D.I.S. doors opened and Rose looked out into the black ink of space. A trillion stars shown like faerie lights, twinkling and dancing across the sky just for her. In the distance, a planet turned, bright pinks and reds swirling through the marble.

Rose gasped at the sight and stepped up to the very edge of the doorway. She peered out and smiled in awe. 

“Where are we?” 

The Doctor crossed his ankles and leaned against the blue wood. He shoved his left hand back in his pocket as his right tugged at his ear. 

“Rhodestria Nine on the cusp of the Belovean Galaxy.”

Rose nodded, pretending to understand where she was and just how far from home they had traveled. “And… when are we?” She lifted an eyebrow, always curious to know all the details.

He grinned.

“On Earth, it is the twenty-seventh of April, in the year 2987.”

She bit her lip, recognizing the date. 

“Rose Tyler,” The Doctor said, turning to look at her head-on, “it is your one thousandth birthday on a planet one thousand light years away from your home, and in about one thousand seconds, the triple suns of the Belovean Galaxy will rise over Rhodestria Nine right about… there.” He leaned close, nearly pressing his cheek against hers, and pointed towards the right side of the planet. 

She tried to follow his finger but her eyes were drawn to the faint stubble on his jaw. She took a breath and his warmth flooded her senses. He was air and fire, dirt and water all mixed together in a strangely familiar scent that always made her feel at home. 

He felt her stare and looked her way, smiling as heat rushed to his cheeks. “Oh, and-” He smirked. “In the local tongue, Rhodestria means ‘Rose’. Named for the swirling colors of the atmosphere.” 

Her heart swelled. “You did all this for me?” 

The Doctor’s eyes flickered down from her eyes to her lips and back again. “Of course.” His voice dropped to a mere whisper. “I’d do anything for you.” 

Breath caught in her throat and she closed her eyes slowly. Her body moved without thought, leaning in closer to him than she’d ever dared. He mirrored her, dipping his chin, leaning down into her. 

They stopped short, narrowly missing a kiss that would change everything between them forever. 

Awkward laughs floated around them. 

The Doctor scratched at the back of his head and then cleared his throat. “So, what’d you wish for?” 

Rose chewed her lip. “Can’t tell you. If I tell, it won’t come true.” She took another taste of the frosting, licking it slowly off her index finger. She knew his eyes were fixed upon her, but she couldn’t help the flirtatious gesture. 

He leaned in and threw his arm around her shoulders. 

They sighed, secret smiles hidden as they watched the triple suns rise over the planet in the distance. Sunrise bathed the rosy planet in gold and The Doctor pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“I hope you get your wish,” he whispered, “whatever it is.” 

Rose closed her eyes and let her head fall back against his shoulder. If she listened hard, she could hear two hearts beating steadily for her. Maybe a kiss was far away, maybe it would never come. Maybe he didn’t feel the same, she couldn’t know. But it didn’t matter in the end; he was incredible and fun, curious and dangerous, and she was lucky enough to get to tag along. He was everything she’d ever dreamt of and she hadn't even known. 

He pulled her close, cuddling up against her. 

Rose sighed and looked off into the warm glow, content and in love. 

“I think I already have…”

2023 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

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[tozettastone]

Soup fic

------

"Hello Shop Girl-san!" called a voice from the counter above. Fingers rapped on the wood over her head.

Monica emerged, red-eyed from the dust under the bench, with a stack of supplier invoices and receipts of payment in hand. She could feel that the bandana she used to keep her hair covered and in line was lopsided on her head.

She used to get things done on a computer: a sleek little tablet that could fit inside an envelope. There was a point of sale system she connected via a single USB-c cable.

The elemental nations did not have point of sale systems or cute little tablets. They barely had books—the people here loved their scrolls, for some reason.

Her customer was a tall, dark-haired fellow in an orange mask that obscured his face and clashed magnificently with the red clouds on his clothes.

"Hi there," she said brightly.

Monica thought he had serious major character vibes, and hoped that somewhere in this stack of receipts was the one from having paid her shop's insurance. The ninja clause was paper thin, but it was in there.

"Ne, sister, is it really okay to be taking a nap down there during business hours?" her customer wondered. He had an incredibly exaggerated voice and a childish way of speaking. Major-major character vibes.

"Ah, sorry, I didn't hear you come in," she said. The change of light from the dimness under the register to the bright sunlight through the shop windows struck Monica, then. She tried very hard not to sneeze. "I was looking for pape—um, paperwork..."

No, she was losing that battle. She held up one finger "Scu—scuse me..." And then she turned her head away to unleash an almighty sneeze into her arm. "I didn't hear you come in," she said, again. "You ninja are all so quiet."

Ninja were the only people on the planet who would intentionally bypass the bell over her door and then get mad that she didn't magically notice their presence when they actually wanted her. (A lot of things were different when you accidentally switched planets into a cartoon. But customer service was pretty identical... unfortunately.)

The mask, and its rim of dark hair, tilted.

"Is that so...?" He tapped the chin of the mask like he was giving it really serious consideration.

Monica bowed a little. Couldn't hurt. The people here loved their bowing, too, but they were much better at judging how deep and for how long to bow than she was. "What can I help you with, Shinobi-san?"

He thumped his hand into his palm like a little hammer. "I'm looking for your super extra mega special supreme lunch soup!"

"Eh?" Monica blinked. "My what?"

"Your super extra mega special supreme lunch s—"

"Ah, yes, yes, I heard you... But I don't sell anything called that. It's just what you see here, Shinobi-san." She gestured to her display case, which was where she kept the home cooked food.

There were some things in there that were "different," by local standards. Sweets here trended in the direction of fruit or coffee jellies, mochi, things with soft rice flour and red bean pastes or sweet buns. Sometimes they had fancy light cheese cakes, or very occasionally, chocolates. Some of those things were available on the shelves, like the sugar crusted melon bread in its individual plastic wrappers, but Monica had not the first idea how to make them.

She watched the ninja as he made a grand show of bending over and examining the case. Today the dishes she was offering were only two: a savoury meat pie, which was made with a hot water crust pastry, slow cooked beef, root vegetables and mushrooms, and a sweet dessert she made with paper-thin layered pastry, walnuts smashed to a paste, and honey. She'd labelled them "savoury meat pie," and "sweet pastry (contains nuts)" so it wasn't going to take the ninja more than two seconds to recognise that neither was "super extra mega special supreme lunch soup."

He took about a minute, peering at one and whirling to bend over and examine the other, cloak fluttering.

Monica had seen that cloak before, on several people. Some of them gave her major character vibes, but some were utterly unremarkable. That big guy with the pencil moustache? She'd seen him once and he'd looked barely filled in: mid-tone skin, a red nose, colourless grey hair...

That was the other thing about living in an animated world. Most people had bland clothes and indistinct designs, and most of them were pretty uniform. There was none of the natural variation of the real world: everyone was of the same builds, the same hair styles in the same brown hair, the same clothing. Except major characters. Major characters were distinct. They all had something: weird clothes, brightly coloured hair or eyes—or even a silhouette that was totally unique. Something that would stand out on the page or the screen.

Which brought Monica back to this ninja. The cloak was one she'd seen before, but they mask and the fluffy dark hair were both crisp and decided. He stuck out.

In her old life, Monica had never really thought she was missing out when she'd given up on a long anime. But... she wished she'd watched more, now that she lived in it.

"These aren't soup!" he decided eventually. It took some time.

"I know," said Monica patiently. She didn't think she'd ever sold a soup—she made soups out of leftover vegetables and misshapen roots from the garden. They weren't pretty enough to sell to paying customers. She'd occasionally given a beggar or an orphan a cup for free, or any particularly unfortunate looking person who wandered into her store, but she didn't see how this man could have ended up with one of those. Whatever organisation employed ninja in those big cloaks, she doubted they were strapped for cash.

...she didn't have any right now anyway.

"Do you want me to put the pie filling in a cup? That's kind of a stew." A very thick stew.

He turned to look at her very, very intently. Then he stuck his butt out and began wiggling like a happy puppy. For... Some reason. "That would be so kind of you, sister."

She left him exclaiming over shelf-stable mochi while she went into her back room. It was also her kitchen. There was a tiny bedroom above it, so the heat from her cooking rose and kept it tolerably warm all autumn. Monica had lived in worse places. Especially here.

In the kitchen she thinned a serve of pie filling—which had to stew before she could bake it into a case anyway—with extra vegetable broth, stirred it up and decanted it into a broad paper cup.

Whatever Mr Major Character Vibes had come for, he left with his cup of soup, looking extremely pleased with himself—in as much as someone whose entire face was mask could be pleased.

Monica was just relieved that she'd gotten him out of her shop. She went back to trying to find her butcher's receipt for last month, interrupted only by other sales to much more mundane people—two small, gap-toothed children sent on an errand to buy beer and dried fish, an elderly lady who needed bleach, a burly guy who came looking for a pot in which to cook rice and pretended he was so incompetent about cooking that he couldn't figure out which to pick.

She finally found the receipt at about three, which was when a harried grandmother herded five children into her shop and asked for pies and sweets for all of them.

"I like your hair, sister," said the smallest girl when Monica handed her a folded cardboard box full of pie.

"Thanks," said Monica. She raised her hands to her head and realised her hair was escaping her bandana. "Oops. I'd better fix that, huh?"

The girl smiled at her through a mouthful of meat and gravy.

Once she saw the grandmother and her kids out Monica tucked her hair away again. It was a strange irony that, while in her regular life, she'd never even thought to dye her hair from its natural dark brown, now that she too was animated, her hair had turned out to be a mass of thick, dark red curls.

And yeah. Monica knew what that meant.

[pandorasopenboxes]

Names Beneath Scars - Chapter 2 WIP

TW: None

Snippet:

Soap can’t find his lighter. The hindrance – despite being a very minor one – causes him to grit his teeth together and allow air to escape the gaps in a hissed breath. He recalls placing it in the left zipper pocket of his trousers, the tiny thing knocking against his keys and used tissues accumulated over the past few days of moving. But, the minute he dug his hand into his oversized pocket, brushing past the wrapper of his favourite Cadbury chocolate or the written note of directions to his room, the lighter’s existence vanished. It was cheap, is his first thought, attempting to soothe his need for a nicotine rush. He bought it at some random corner shop where the owner, dubbed ‘Boss Man’ by the younger crowd of customers, was placing up Union Jacks to appeal to the foreign tourists bustling down the streets outside. Some tourists, wearing sun hats despite the lack of such, strolled over to the main window display and eyed the miniature trinkets of bright red buses. Or poked their heads through the open door to view the ceramic plates with the Royal family emblem engraved. Soap ignored all, including the youngsters huddled together in a corner, trying out the latest flavour of vapes.

It was the vivid green colour of the lighter which caught Soap’s attention; a neon toxicity in all its hue. There is nothing special about the specific colour. No sentimental meaning which grips him. He just likes it. The brightness of it. And now it’s gone.

Shoulders sagging in frustration, Soap sits on one of the slanted beach chairs placed outside in what he assumes to be the smoking area. It isn’t a bad place; a little dingy perhaps as it’s found at one corner of the compound where Soap had to squeeze through a slightly broken door to step outside. It must have been a lovely garden in the past as remnants of plant pots – all in different sizes and shapes – litter the ground. Soap wonders what sort of flowers were brought here, were the colours as intense as the lighter he lost? He has no way of knowing, not when death has touched the withered stems and the pretty petals were consumed by growing weeds. In the midst of all the large vegetation, is a singular bucket with the words ‘DISPOSED BUTTS HERE’ written in a black marker. Members of the 141 must have taken that direction seriously, as no cigarette waste is found on the surrounding floor. Good on them for being environmentalists, he thinks, humouring himself while fiddling with the lid of the Marlboro Gold packet. Soap, repeatedly opening and closing the lid, gazes past the long grass and trees to see if he can spot parts of the town. The compound is situated on a hill which should allow Soap to see the shape of semi-detached houses or the large Tesco’s close by.

Chapter to be up by the end of the week.

Read first chapter here

[beardedmrbean]

Tests have revealed chocolate bars that left customers ill at a Christmas market in Mansfield contained traces of hallucinogenic drugs, police have confirmed.

Nottinghamshire Police launched an investigation after people fell ill after eating chocolate sold at a market stall in Mansfield last week.

The chocolate was sold in gold wrappers and orange Cali-Gold boxes last Saturday.

In an update, police confirmed the quantities of Psilocin and THC – a substance found in cannabis - were found in a small number of the chocolate bars.

A 10-year-old boy was among those taken to the hospital, but police confirmed all those who became unwell have now fully recovered.

A 63-year-old woman was arrested on suspicion of administering a noxious substance and has been released on bail.

Chief Inspector Chris Sutcliffe, of Nottinghamshire Police, said: “An investigation is in the process of being carried out after multiple people reported falling ill after consuming chocolate purchased in Mansfield last weekend.

“Forensic testing has been carried out of the chocolate recovered by police, with the majority showing no traces of drugs or anything out of the ordinary.

“Quantities of the hallucinogenic drug Psilocin and THC – a substance found in cannabis – were discovered in a small number of the bars, however.

“It is really important that anyone who still has any of this chocolate hands it into the police immediately so that it can be further analysed.”

“A 63-year-old woman was arrested on suspicion of administering a noxious substance and is currently assisting police with our ongoing inquiries after being released on bail.

Tina Potter, Head of Incidents, Food Standards Agency said: “We are working with local authorities, the UK Health Security Agency and Nottinghamshire Police to investigate an incident following reports of illness after eating chocolate bought from Mansfield Market in Nottinghamshire.

“The chocolate was both labelled as ‘Cali-Gold’ and unbranded.

“If you have purchased chocolate matching this description, it should not be consumed but instead handed in to the police.

“If you have already eaten it and have developed symptoms, then you should urgently seek medical attention from your GP, or contact NHS 111 online or phone 111.”

[primedryfruitsandnutskarwar]

Chocolate joy at Prime dry fruits and nuts in Karwar.

Hey there, If you've ever found yourself reaching for a square of chocolate during a tough day or celebrating life's little victories with a sweet treat, you're not alone. Chocolate has a magical way of brightening our mood and lifting our spirits. Join me as we explore the science behind why chocolates make us happy and discover how you can experience that joy with a visit to Prime Dry Fruits and Nuts in Karwar.

Unveiling the Joyful Chemistry: Ever wondered why chocolate makes us feel so darn good? It's all about the science, folks! Chocolate contains compounds like phenylethylamine and anandamide, which trigger the release of feel-good neurotransmitters in our brains. So when you bite into that rich, velvety goodness, you're not just treating your taste buds – you're giving your brain a little happiness boost too!

Savoring the Sweet Antioxidants: But wait, there's more to chocolate than just happiness in a wrapper. It's also packed with antioxidants that do wonders for our bodies. Think of them as tiny superheroes fighting off the bad guys (aka free radicals) and keeping us feeling youthful and vibrant. And when you choose high-quality chocolate from Prime Dry Fruits and Nuts, you're not just indulging – you're nourishing your body with a dose of delicious goodness.

Embracing the Comforting Vibes: Let's talk about the emotional side of chocolate, shall we? There's something undeniably comforting about curling up with a mug of hot cocoa or sharing a box of chocolates with friends. It's like a warm hug for your soul, reminding you that everything is going to be okay, even on the toughest days. So go ahead, treat yourself to a little chocolatey goodness – you deserve it!

A Journey to Chocolate Paradise: Ready to embark on a chocolate-filled adventure? Head on over to Prime Dry Fruits and Nuts in Karwar and immerse yourself in a world of sweetness and joy. From decadent truffles to all kinds of toffees, there's something for every chocolate lover to enjoy. Whether you're looking for birthday distribution chocolates like eclairs and truffles or single individual chocolates from Cadbury dairy milk, Snickers, Bounty, Toblerone, Ferrero Rocher, KitKat, or other variety of gift chocolates to gift someone, we've got you covered. And if you're searching for the perfect customized gift chocolate hamper for all occasions, our team is here to help you create a memorable and indulgent gift that will delight your loved ones.

Conclusion: Chocolate isn't just a treat – it's a mood-lifter, a comforter, and a source of pure joy. So why not indulge in a little happiness today? Whether you're browsing through Tumblr or strolling through the streets of Karwar, let chocolate be your guide to a brighter, sweeter world. After all, life is too short not to savor every delicious moment!

visit us to explore more :

PRIME DRY FRUITS AND NUTS

Main market, Near Siddhivinayak temple, beside janta bazaar, Karwar, Karnataka 581301

07676885300

you can also visit our website to know more about us:

[blaacknoir]

Marius and Armand for the ask meme :*

(Descriptions in alt text.)

Marius is not allowed to give candy to children, next question 😭 In an AU where he's not a massive creep, he makes his own candy and hands it out. He's even got custom wrappers for it, and spends the week before Halloween prepping everything. It's different every year--sometimes it's fruit, sometimes it's chocolate, one year it was marshmallows. He's got a reputation as the neighborhood weirdo, but the kids still love him anyway.

Armand... doesn't know what Halloween is. Once Daniel explains it though? He. Goes. Apeshit. He loves everything about the holiday, and does a full on Clark Griswold-but-it's-Halloween decorating the house. (Daniel wouldn't mind so much if he wasn't the one constantly being sent out for creepy crepe paper. He's also the one that picks out the candy, of course.)

Lestat and Louis don't just hand out candy, no no no. They run a fucking haunted house out of their home. Or maybe (probably) he rents a building. He's Lestat, he has infinite income, no sense of chill, a superb sense of aesthetics, and is the most extra bitch that has ever lived and died on this earth. 😭 Louis couldn't protest if he wanted to. There's a guy taking tickets out front, flyers around town, it's advertised on the radio and television. It's a fucking event. As people leave, they get very classy goody bags full of fancy candy. While he's doing this, Louis stays at home and hands out full bars of regular candy to all the kids who come by. (And he throws in extra for the grownups.)

(Ask meme)