#i haven't written anything in weeks

[wrathofthestag]

Phillip's

Benoit Blanc believed there was no godly reason to have five coffee shops within walking distance of one another. So when a new shop called Phillip’s opened just down the street, Benoit couldn’t help but petulantly roll his eyes. At least the name wasn’t idiotic. Also on AO3...

To be honest, Benoit Blanc thought there were too many coffee shops in the world.

Jesus wept; there was no godly reason to have five coffee shops within walking distance of one another. Macco-choco caramel this, that, and the other—a waste of real estate. And the pastries they served? Travesty. Utter travesty. So when a new shop called Phillip’s opened just down the street, Benoit couldn’t help but petulantly roll his eyes. At least the name wasn’t idiotic.

He walked past Phillip’s—it was on his way home, after all—and ignored the smells coming from within, or at least tried to. Benoit’s neighbor, Mrs. Reynolds with the very sweet basset hound named Droopy, had said Phillip’s baked goods were “quite tasty.” Quite tasty, however, wasn’t enough to tempt him to enter the establishment. That was until Phillip’s had the utter audacity to put a sign in the window declaring they had delicious fresh beignets.

Beignets? Outside of New Orleans? Benoit couldn’t help but huff. He had to investigate that surely outlandish claim.

When he pushed his way through the coffee shop door, he instantly noticed how tastefully decorated the shop was. Fresh flowers sat at each table, everything was painted a lovely pale yellow, and Ella Fitzgerald rang from the speakers. Hmm. The shop was fairly empty, with just a few patrons at one table. Benoit couldn’t tell if that was a portend or if he just came in between a rush.

He looked at the chalkboard menu above the counter and studied it for a moment until someone cleared their throat and broke into his space.

“Welcome to Phillip’s,” a voice said.

“Yes, hello, thank you. Can I--”

Benoit looked at the source of the voice, and…

Oh, shitballs.

Well, he was just Benoit’s type, now, wasn’t he? Dark hair, blue eyes, a quizzical brow, and a crooked smile that made him want to trip over himself. He wore a tie-dyed apron and a nametag that read Phillip.

“We have some cheddar bacon scones just out of the oven.”

“Uh…”

“Unless you’re a vegan or something, then scratch that,” the man, the Phillip said.

Benoit took his wits about him as he tried to ignore Phillip’s smile and floppy hair.

“Beignets?” he finally croaked out.

“Ah, a connoisseur of the beignet are you?” Phillip asked as he leaned on his elbows against the counter.

“Yes, you could say that. Absolutely.”

Phillip’s eyes widened slightly, and then he shook his head and laughed.

“Yeah, judging by that accent, you could definitely say that,” he said. “Bugger.”

Benoit smiled and shrugged.

“Beignets outside of New Orleans shows quite the braggadocio.”

This time it was Phillip who grinned and shrugged.

“I hope they’re up to snuff.”

He looked over his shoulder and shouted.

“Lou! Hey, Lou! How long on the beignets?”

“Five minutes!” a voice from out back replied.

“Well, there you go. You can let me know what you think in five minutes. Anything else?”

The two looked at each other for a beat, the ghost of a smile still lingering.

“Coffee?”

“Room for cream?”

“No, thank you.”

“Takeaway?”

“Yes, please.”

“Name.”

“Blanc. Benoit Blanc.”

Benoit wasn’t quite sure exactly why he gave his whole name like that, but he did. Phillip snorted.

“Blanc? Benoit Blanc? What are you? James Bond?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Okay, fine,” Phillip said and exhaled loudly.

“Fine?”

“Some people like to give made-up names, and at this point, I’ve stopped reacting—or at least trying to react. Especially with one as silly as this.”

“Silly?” Benoit sputtered. “Listen--”

“Is that Blanc with a ‘c’ or a ‘q-u-e’?” Phillip asked with an eyebrow raised.

“A ‘c.’”

“I see,” Phillips said as he wrote on the cup and filled it with coffee. “Here you go, Blanc-with-a-C. The beignet will be right up.”

Benoit paid, and as their fingers grazed, he couldn’t help the tiny flip his insides did.

Phillip cleared his throat again and said, “Very well then. It should only be a few minutes on the beignets.”

“Thank you.”

Benoit sat at one of the cushy corner armchairs in a very supple dark grey suede and sipped his coffee.

“Is it always this quiet in here?” he asked toward the counter.

The patrons at the one table turned to look at Benoit.

“Quiet? Hardly,” Phillip called back. “You came during a quiet pocket. It’ll pick up again in an hour.”

Benoit sat and watched as Phillip wiped down the table, his forearms strong while they worked in a circular motion. Phillip paused and looked up right at Benoit, who startled and quickly looked down at his coffee cup.

Phillip shook his head and grinned as he wiped some more.

Lou, apparently, walked out from the back with a tray full of beignets.

“Order up for Blanc,” Phillip said.

Benoit walked up to the counter and breathed an internal sigh of relief as he looked at the beignets. They were a beautiful shade of light brown and covered in powdered sugar.

“I stand ready for your judgment,” Phillip said as he shook some more powdered sugar onto one and gently put it on a plate.

Benoit pick it up and took a bite. It was yeasty and sweet, but not overpowering. It was as fragant and airy as a summer’s night in Savannah.

“Oh, my word.” He took another bite. “Oh my goodness.”

Phillip smiled.

“Good, right?”

“It's… well, yes,” Benoit said with delight.

“I know.”

Benoit put down the beignet and quickly placed a ten in the tip jar and smiled, upper lip covered in powdered sugar.

“Well! What a compliment!” Phillip said as he picked up the jar and looked at it, puzzled.

“What’s wrong?” Benoit asked and gingerly wiped his mouth with a napkin.

“Come on! Just an hour ago, this jar was almost full! My tip jar’s been nicked again.”

Phillip sighed, walked over to the register, took out some money, and placed it in the tip jar.

“If it were just me working here, I wouldn't care so much, but Lou and the kids all divvy up the tips. This is the second time it’s happened. I thought the first time was a fluke but I supposed it wasn’t.”

“So sorry that's happening.”

“What kind of a cretin steals tips? I need a detective to solve this nonsense!”

A detective? Benoit couldn't help but laugh.

“What? What's so funny?”

“No, it's just that--”

“What?”

“Well,” Benoit said. “I'm a detective.”

Phillip put his hands on his hips. “You are not.”

“Certified and bonafied.”

Phillip laughed. “Oh god! You’re not one of those overbearing sorts that smokes a bloody pipe, fancying themselves Sherlock fucking Holmes, who thinks they’re too smart for their own good?”

“No, I think I’m just the right amount of smart… and I smoke cigars,” Benoit said with a smile.

The two studied each other for a beat, their smiles growing wider by the second.

“You just think you're so charming, don't you?”

“I have my moments.”

Benoit felt someone watching, turned, and noticed the people sitting at the table looking at them amusedly. The woman at the table mouthed Go on to him.

“Well, all right then, Blanc. Would you like to have dinner sometime?” Phillip said. “You know, to go over the case.”

“Are you hiring me?”

Phillip moved his hand in a so-so motion.

“Not sure yet. I'll let you know after dinner.”

Benoit took another bite of the beignet and sighed.

"Flying colors.”

Phillips smiled smugly.

“Well, Blanc. Let me introduce myself properly. I'm Phillip. Phillip White.”

“Phillip White? You’re pullin’ my leg!”

“No,” Phillip laughed softly. “I promise you, I am not. My hands are nowhere near your legs.”

“Phillip,” Benoit said and stretched out his hand, “it's a pleasure to meet you.”

“Lovely to meet you, Blanc.”

The two smiled at one another, surrounded by pastries, music, and flowers. And if their handshake lasted a bit longer than it should have, well, there was no mystery as to why.

[campbenji]

ok you know what i need the motivation. if this post gets 300 notes before january 31st then i'll be legally obligated to post my bowman brothers fic before febraury ends.

[missjoolee]

Chapel of Love

1.1k words

The barest hint of hot, dry air ruffled against the baby hairs on the back of her neck doing little relief. Long gone were the multi-layered stage outfits, having learned she needed something more breathable underneath the stagnant tent two days ago at the start of the music festival. Instead, she wore a poofy crop top with shorts, and she could feel Luke’s eyes roaming the revealed skin of her shoulders, midriff, and legs with each song they sang together. He'd been winding her up with each set.

Her hands grip the top of the mic stand as she leans into where the mic sits, holding herself in place where normally she would be dragging it over to share with Luke in this moment. But they are halfway through the seventh and final set and his eyes weren’t the only thing she could feel looming nearby. Just outside the Loud & Local tent sat the “Chapel of Love”. And the next lyrics were too close to vows that she might do something stupid if she got too close to him. Why had they written them this way, again?

They hadn’t seen the simple archway that signified the “chapel” when they had arrived to set up, the van being parked on the other side of the tent that held the stage that they would share with four other bands over the three day festival. And when they finally had a chance to roam the festival grounds, Reggie pulling them to the food truck selling fancy milkshakes, they saw it but didn’t know what it was. Even on the information board sporting a map, it was just a tiny innocuous dot.

It had been later on a water run that Alex and she saw a small gathering of people under it, two of them sealing their love with a kiss. Apparently, you could get married at this festival.

"Huh," Alex had said, taking a drink from his bottle and then resting his arm on her shoulder. "That's a decision." "I don't know. I think it's kind of sweet," she'd responded. A snort rang out from above her head. "Of course you would say that." She'd sent an accusatory glare up at him, dropping her shoulder so his arm would fall way. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She had known exactly what he meant though. Her eyes close against the crowd in front of her and drift open to her left, knowing exactly where Luke would be.

She can feel electricity thrum through her body as she begins the call and response moment.

"I've got a spark in me."

She can see the confusion on his face, but he smiles at her as the words slide out of him with ease.

"I've got a spark in me."

She closes her eyes against the assault of love intertwining with the electricity already coursing though her. In her mind, the simple archway looms above them. This is why she was fighting her entire being from going to him. It was too soon. Too impulsive.

"And you're a part of me."

She can't escape the feelings that have been building with each performance they've done this weekend. The euphoria of performing their music with the her best friends, and the man she loves, not caring that she shut her eyes in an attempt to block it out.

"And you're a part of me."

Luke's voice right next to her sends a shiver across her shoulders, her eyes jumping open to see he'd closed the distance to share a mic with her. Not letting her run from him, not realizing she wasn't running. She was trying to reign in some very impulsive thoughts. She can see the concern in his eyes behind the determination and can't help the smile that graces her face, softer than what is normally part of her stage persona.

"Now till eternity."

His response is accompanied by the smile he normally saves for her when they are in the studio. One that Alex and Reggie unfortunately have to put up with because it side tracks things often enough. "Now till eternity."

The mental reigns she's been wrestling are completely forgotten about. She's a goner. Their voices twine together like they have thousands of times before.

"Been so long and now I'm finally free."

The rest of the set goes off without a hitch. The adrenaline and dopamine high intoxicating. She feels Reggie's arm go around her shoulders as Luke's goes around her waist and she looks at all her band-mates with pride. This weekend was amazing and did a lot to promote them, even if they were competing for attention with signed bands that have been around a whole lot longer on two other stages. They take a group bow to the crowd before they disperse like the non-existent wind.

Luke's arm tightens and he leans down to her ear to be heard. "Everything okay?" His voice is raspy and a bit lower than normal from doing seven performances in three days.

Perfect. The word rings in her head, bolstering her onto her toes next to his ear so he can hear her response.

"Marry me." Her own voice rough, lower and more sultry than she expected.

He looks surprised as he processes her words, but not like they made him uncomfortable if that same smile he saves for her lighting up his face means anything.

"Yeah. Okay."

She grabs hold of the hand on her waist, interlacing their fingers as she heads for the exit of the tent with determination. He drags behind her a bit.

"You mean right now??"

The first flicker of doubt hits her. "Yes?"

He drops her hand and scrambles to get the guitar strap over his head. "Oh hell yeah."

Her smile is so big she can feel the ache in her cheeks but she doesn't care. He wants this as bad as she does.

A voice interrupts them. "Uh Julie? Luke? Where are you going? We have to pack up our stuff so Midnight Mayhem can go on."

Reggie looks confused, his thumb pointing over his shoulder off the back of the stage. Alex's looks suspicious. Julie can feel heat soar to her cheeks as she looks up at Luke's face and sees the eager giddiness there and then back at Alex. Yeah, that tracks.

"Sorry guys. Got a little distracted. Band meeting after we get everything packed up."

She pulls Luke back over to their gear to begin packing up. Squeezing his hand before dropping it to unplug her keyboard.

He looks at her with confusion. "Band meeting?"

"We'll need witnesses."

"Riiiiiight. Nice."

[soupbtch]

ummm. my fic is done.

[revasserium]

write. it doesn't have to be good, it doesn't even have to be a story. write a sentence, a fragment, a phrase, a thought. write something. write anything. write.

and be proud of yourself that you did.

[soap-ify]

hello (going to pretend that i didn't disappear AGAIN)

[scyllas-revenge]

Is anyone else at a point in their lives where you literally can't read or write about romance anymore without having a full-blown existential crisis and the overwhelming desire to lay face down on the floor in a depressed slump until you decompose into the carpet?

[sparrowmoth]

"It wasn't a bomb, Jes, it was a minor contact explosion. I think you're being a bit dramatic."

"Me?" said Jesper, clearly affronted. "Me?" he repeated, waving his arms at Wylan, who could do little more than lean slightly away from him in the narrow space. "I'm being dramatic?" He scoffed, then shifted a step back to gesture at the shattered porcelain, cracked tiles, and scorched wall in the tight corner at his right. "You blew up our toilet over a spider..."

Wylan crossed his arms and turned away, cheeks red. "It was self-defence," he mumbled. "It bit me in the—" He stopped abruptly, cheeks impossibly redder as his eyes dropped to the floor. "Never mind. I just needed to make sure it was..."

Jesper raised an eyebrow. "Dead?" he suggested, but Wylan didn't answer. He was staring at something in the rubble, breathing starting to quicken. Jesper followed his gaze and saw it just as Wylan all but tackled him into the wall in a bid to reach the door: there was a large brown spider emerging, seemingly unscathed, from between a pile of broken floor tiles.

"Saints, all that and you didn't even manage to kill it?" Jesper called after Wylan, who'd gone scrambling down the hallway. He rolled his eyes to the ceiling, then regarded the spider with a tilt of his head. "Doesn't seem fair that I'd kill you now after what you've survived, so come on, hurry up..." Jesper got down on his knees and reached a hand out for the spider to climb on. "Let's get you outside before my dearly beloved can get his hands on more explosives..."

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

AFTERMARE WEEK: day 1- blackout/illumination

Your presence alone lit up my entire world, but then your absence nearly blinded me. how am i to survive without that light now that you're gone?

aftermare week is hosted by @bluepallilworld

[mellowwillowy]

On hiatus for an indefinite moment.

[sealofarchives]

Prompt: filipino!reader with the turtles (separate)

Note: I'm filipino so if I get some stuff wrong, let me know and I'll make edits to this post

Leo

The day after your other family members showed up as a surprise visit. You apologized to the red slider turtle for slightly panicking. Trying to get him to the nearest window frame of a fire escape exit.

He waved off the apology, more interested that you knew spanish and didn't tell him about it.

You instantly looked at him with a confused expression.

"It's tagalog, not spanish."

It didn't help that Donnie overheard the conversation. While Leo felt a bit embarrassed, jumping to the conclusion of, confusing the language with something else.

"A total of 8 different dialects. There's more but, tagalog just happens to be the common language in the Philippines."

Just as the softshell turtle dropped off your papers with purple pen marks before heading back to his lab.

You still reassured Leo that he didn't mean to offend you. He let out a sigh of relief but, still thinks that its pretty cool that you're aware of your family's culture.

If you can speak it fluently, Leo will sometimes ask on what phrases you usually use.

Or if you're like me, who only knows a few words. He might tease you to try speaking some common phrases only if you're up to it.

Raph

Raph accidentally ran into one of your relatives. An aunt and uncle who were almost swindled out of a deal from Repo Mantis.

The alligator snapping turtle still managed to get them out of there safely. Now at a safe distance close to the Run of the Mill pizzeria.

He was still nervous at the thought of trying to escort them home until the aunt asked if he was okay.

Raph tried his best to hide the panicked tone in his voice until she gasped.

"Oh! You're one of (Y/N)'s friends!" "They're always talk about you and your brothers before any of us ask them about school!"

Timeskip a week later, they ordered pizza to thank Raph for getting them out of that situation. They couldn't stay for too long but still left with big smiles waving goodbye at the turtles.

"Uh, (Y/N). What does it mean if I'm being called 'Kuya Raph'?"

You chuckled saying "You're still the oldest brother of the group." "But it has more of a respectful manner. Since my other family members still use it for some of their friend groups."

"You know checking up on each other even when things aren't so great."

Raph smiled while you confidently stood your ground when his brothers try to find a teasing remark. Mikey eventually stepping back followed by Donnie who slowly grew bored of the banter. And you continued to playfully ignore Leo's idea of a bet that he could go a day taking over Raph's oldest brother role.

Mikey

You asked the box shell turtle for help trying to prepare pancit (a filipino noodle dish.) All of the ingredients laid out on the table and your mom's list with said instructions on cooking the food. You held onto the package containing rice noodles but hesitated opening it.

Mikey took notice of the frown on your face.

"Still nervous on trying to cook this dish on your own?" Mikey asked as you sighed

"Sort of... My mom has the 'oh you're doing this wrong...' whenever I try to cook something that isn't instant noodles." "So, sorry if I'm slow to this cooking thing..."

"Don't worry about what your mom thinks. I'm more happy that you asked for help! And I get to learn a new recipe from my best friend!"

The uneasy what if feeling slowly faded away as you and Mikey followed a few step by step videos with laughter filling the lively atmosphere.

After an hour passed, a knock from your apartment door signaled your mom and two of your relatives' arrival.

Before you told Mikey to hide, a light blue portal threw out a orange hoodie. With Mikey in a hurry putting it on.

"I might be on pizza duty for the next month but, I'm still not letting you face this alone!" Mikey said with a guaranteed grin on his face.

While the dish earned praise from your relatives, you felt more comfortable that Mikey vouched for you when your mom was still skeptical of the finished product. The relatives in agreement with him resulted in her giving up any further comments.

"(Y/N) could try making lumpia for their friends. And with how Mikey is helping them. They'll slowly get better at cooking!" Your grandma joked as you pretended not to sink below your chair.

A week later, at the lair, the three turtles often glancing back at the wrapped up uncooked spring rolls slowly beginning to stack a pile.

Donnie

"I know you said food or drinks aren't allowed at the lab but, I went out and got you halo-halo! To thank you for helping me with studying for the test next week."

"Halo-what-"

Donnie's eyes widen at the sight of the purple shaved ice dessert in a plastic cup. The spoon inside of the cup lid as he reached out now holding the drink in his hands.

"Is it actually purple or is it just the food dye that has purple in it?" Donnie said looking around the contents of the dessert while you laugh.

"I guess you never heard of ube aka purple yams. I had bread that used ube as filling. But, its been used in other pastries as well."

Donnie took a spoonful of the ube into his mouth and attempted to hide the smile on his face. But, savored the sweet treat with a light hum. He blinked noticing how he was the only one who got dessert.

"Wait, you didn't get one for yourself?" He asked as you lightly scratched your face.

"I only had enough money to buy one. And don't tell your brothers because I sort of waited when they went to the Run of the Mill pizzeria to get it. So..." You avoided eye contact finishing that sentence as Donnie got up from his seat.

"Well... Since you got me this refreshing dessert. I'm willing to let you take dibs for the first few slices of pizza. It will still apply to pineapple as well so no takebacks." Donnie immediately spotted at the grin slowly appearing on your face as you nodded.

Close to 45 minutes later, the turtles arrived back with the stack of pizza boxes. However...

"Hey, you two missed out on the limited time desserts they're giving out at the Run of the Mill pizzeria! We managed to get the last three while we waited in line. I forgot what it was called, something starting with two h's but, it has Donnie's favorite color-"

Donnie internally winced as you went to open the nearest pizza box. And took a slice without caring that it was one of your least favorite flavors. Mostly biting into the bread crust almost startling Mikey in the process.

[Note to self: repay back (Y/N) within this week with their favorite snack] (He does but both of you joke about that timing while taking a break from assignments)

[fonulyn]

Inspiration Saturday/Several Sentence Sunday

also got tagged by @silvercap so am shamelessly taking the opportunity to post another one :'D

Still grinning, Jake leaned back in his seat, arching an eyebrow at his friend. “So, what’s next for you then?” That was the million dollar question. Piers would’ve loved to have the answer to it himself. “I don’t know,” he admitted with an awkward little grimace. “I never really planned much further than this.” He’d been so focused on healing, on his physical therapy, on learning the skills he’d lost together with his arm… there’d been no room for anything else, really. Now he needed to find something else to set his mind to. Jake pursed his lips thoughtfully, tilting his head a little. “You still play bass?” Surprised, Piers frowned at him. “Yeah. Why?” Instead of answering the question, Jake asked another. “Do you know RPD?” “Raccoon City police department?” Piers hazarded, slowly, not really following. At all.

from the nivannedy band au lol.

(feel free to say i tagged you if you want to share your writing!)

[lilyrizzy]

thanks for the tag @semperama & @blamemma!

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or however many you like)

“Well, would you look at that,” her dad says, a pleased smile spreading over his face. His thumb strokes over the glossy print, lingering on what he must be able to work out quicker than she could is the nose. “That’s the family heirloom right there.”

She laughs, punching him playfully on the shoulder.

“Watch it,” she warns, with no heat in her voice. “The sucker could always end up with Max’s beak.”

Her dad turns away from the photo to look at her, something knowing on his face.

“If there’s one thing I’m sure of by now, it’s that you Ricciardo women have the dominant genes.” His words are teasing but there’s something chokingly tender in his voice when he next speaks. “I’m proud of you, kid.”

tagging @catofthecanals289 @flawlessassholes @thewindowatkirkland and @123pixieaod if you wanna!

[laws-yellow-submarine]

Someone posted this meme today and it's literally the first source of inspiration I've had in MONTHS. BUT. It's also 2 am and I'm sleepy 😴 someone remind me this exists in the morning lol

[imwritesometimes]

in one week it will officially be one year since I finished a fic edited it & posted it hahaha 😵‍💫😖😞😑

[asharaks]

happy wip wednesday saturday have some nonbeliever chapter two<33 tagged by @hungerofhadarr and @ikarons MWAH..gonna tag um. @baronmpontmercy and @babeoffrontiers and umm if anyone else wants 2 do it also:3