#pastry writes

[pastrydragon]

What do the rogues smell like? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

I know you probably asked this as a joke but I thought deeply about it anyway so here you go!

Riddler:

Lemon and lavender soaps.

Edward's dad was a hoarder and so Edward has a thing about his space being clean.

when he got his first apartment he kept it obsessively clean and as a side effect of this the place always smelled like the lemon and lavender cleaning products he'd scrubbed the place with.

And since this was the first place Edward ever felt safe, he ended up associating those scents with safety.

So all his soap and cleaning products to this day are either lemon or lavender scented, so he inevitably ends up with a near permanent air freshener like scent.

Scarecrow:

Pumpkin pie now but used to smell like chemicals.

Harley got him a basket of pumpkin spice everything as a gift for his birthday one year after he developed a toxin variation that was particularly pungent and he wasn't gonna waste perfectly good hygiene products!

And he has a genuine love for pumpkin taste so he keeps cans of it around to put in his pancakes every morning.

So yeah, The Master Of Halloween smells like thanksgiving.

You can still smell the chemicals if you get close though.

Mad hatter:

“Iris Poudre” by Frederic Malle, he doesn’t care that it’s a women’s perfume, he wants to smell like a sexy flower garden and everyone else can mind their own business.

Under the perfume he smells like whatever tea he drank that day and possibly like whatever sugary treat he baked to go with it.

Unless he's been in his lab all day, then he smells like metals and plastic.

And once in a blue moon when he needs to do some intense testing, cool ranch Doritos.

Except he never brings food down there with him so how....?

Mr. Freeze:

His condition causes him to have a permanent fresh snow smell which he was pleasantly surprised by.

Like the other scientists on this list carries a kind of "laboratory smell" with him.

His suit smells... weird. Like you can smell that a person was there but there's no sweat smell and its honestly a little off-putting. Luckily he cleans it very regularly.

He used to wear “Angel’s share” by Killian because Nora has good taste and wasn’t gonna let her husband smell like detergent and nothing else.

He'll start wearing it again when she wakes up.

Penguin:

“Tobacco Vanille” by Tom Ford mainly. The man wants to ooze class.

He also wears it because he always has a cigar after his lunch and dinner so he needs to wear something he knows won't clash scents with his Arturo's.

And if you're thinking that smell is strong, that's on purpose.

Oswald has a small group of birds in his atrium that he cares for personally out of affection, and because of that if you get right up close to him you’ll smell bird cage. Not great.

He might also smell like seafood after meals but not really in a bad way, more in a "Well fuck, now I'm craving Red Lobster!" way.

TwoFace:

“REPLICA jazz club” Because before he was Twoface he was a snazzy lawyer who wanted to smell like how big band music sounds.

There's also the medicine he puts on his acid burns which smells exactly how you’d expect it to.

The two mixing together isn't unpleasant but it is a bit confusing to get a whiff of if you don't know who it's coming from.

It smells kinda like an expensive hospital room.

He might also smell like Bloody Mary's if he's had a bad day.

Harley:

“Tutti Fruity Candy” by Bath and bodyworks

Unless she’s going to one of Oswald’s fancy parties, Then she wears “Into The Night”…. Also by bath and bodyworks.

She also smells a bit like bubblegum.

She smells like how a slumber party feels I think.

Just smells like fun!

Catwomen:

Has accumulated an impressive collection of expensive perfumes as gifts from various gentleman friends over the years and uses them almost at random so literally no one knows until she shows up.

She also smells a bit like cats.

Poison Ivy:

ROSES

Like a very aggressive rose smell.

Like you aren’t allowed to wear rose scented perfume in Gotham because it makes people try to evacuate the area.

Ivy could smell like any flower she wanted of course.

But who doesn't love roses?

Bane:

Harley strikes again and got him Dr. Squach products because he's Mr. manly man and she thought it was funny.

He shares John's "waste nothing" philosophy and used all of it, then bought more because he liked it.

His favorite scent is alpine sage but he changes it up sometimes.

He also smells like 24 hour fitness, because obviously.

He might also smell like peanut butter protein shakes.

Bookworm:

Musty dusty book smell.

He smells like a socially awkward moth eaten carpet.

He smells like an old arm chair with a cat sitting in it.

He smells like cocoa butter because he is an ashy bitch who needs to be moisturized.

Please buy him some cologne.

Killer Croc:

Waylon's home may be in the sewer but his home also happens to be beachfront property, so he smells like ocean mainly.

With all his free time between heists and such, Waylon often takes on elaborate cooking projects with a focus on BBQ and smoking meat. Which means he smells like a plethora of kitchen spices, smoke and herbs.

Maybe it's the alligator skin, maybe it's the jackets he wears, but he always smells a little like leather.

So the entire effect is "Bar and grill by the ocean with those really nice leather booths"

Please make him into a cologne.

Music Meister:

He avoids scented products to avoid irritating his respiratory system in any way.

So He just smells like a clean human.

Possibly lemon and honey from trying to soothe those vocal cords with weak tea.

Joker:

Is also a basic bath and bodyworks bitch, he wears “Among The Clouds”. 

He does class it to the roof for formal events though and switches to "English Promenade 19" By Krigler.

If you catch him without any scent on he smells slightly acidic and some other rogues would describe him as smelling "sickly". He's not physically sick as his doctors can attest, in fact his chemical bath raised the PH across his body so he can't even get most diseases anymore.

Because of this he can tend to overdue it on the scent to hide the sickly and chemical smells.

Like Jervis, Joker often smells like his baking projects. (Except the project is almost exclusively some sort of pie.)

[pastrypurgatory]

ok I am going to. finally post the Orange Creamsicles thing. I have not done any thorough revisions to this. here you go

Mammal Cosine: Winter

Orange Creamsicles

The lights were out all through the house. Nothing but the air conditioning made a sound, droning on and routinely switching its cycle every fistful of minutes. Ethan had only met this time of day a few times in passing; it still felt like he was in uncharted territory every time he was up this late. But it was going to be a long night, it seemed; a long night of lying on that couch and looking at his leg bound in a cast, wondering when the thing was going to start doing the one thing he kept it around for again - or at the very least stop keeping him up with the constant, nagging pain with every inch he moved it.

Suddenly, he heard the lock on the front door jiggling. Any sound coming from that door was always the most noticable thing in the house, somehow. The door opened up, and his older sister came in. "Think fast," Lynn said, while already beginning to throw something straight at him. Ethan didn't exactly catch it, but he swung his arms in a way that would have caught it if he had another moment's notice. She shut the door behind her, carrying some grocery bags on her other arm. There was one of those orange push-popsicle treats in his lap now, just as he had asked for earlier. Lynn set the bags down on the coffee table and sat on the couch beside him. "I got you your orange things, which are not, and never have been creamsicles, by the way." She had said this exact sentence many times before.

"Thanks," said Ethan, in a voice that had clearly hardly been used in the last few hours, as he pushed the cap off the orange thing and stuck it in his mouth, being careful not to let the cold treat touch his fangs.

Lynn, not satisfied with the state of the conversation, started talking again. "Tomorrow's gonna be real busy now that we're the ones hosting Christmas dinner," she lamented. It's why she went out for groceries in the first place; they suddenly needed to cook a lot of dishes on short notice. Ethan didn't have any comment. Hejust looked silently at nowhere in particular, letting the push pop melt in his mouth. Lynn wasn't going to leave him alone in this state all night. She had to do something to get him to talk.

She reached into the bags and plucked another frozen orange treat thing from it. This alone didn't faze him. "For the gas money," Lynn noted, as if she was expecting an "oh, obviously" in response. Then, Ethan finally seemed to start paying attention

"You were already driving there," he said, finally with a hint of effort, having sat up and turned towards Lynn.

"Well," she said, twirling the orange freezysicle with the movements of her paws, "older sibling tax, then."

"I could pay the older sibling tax in actual money! Or just pay you back for the whole box!" He was starting to get his arms involved in his emoting, too, talking in a raised voice which would only be considered raised relative to the two-in-the-morning whisper they were speaking in before.

"Do you want to? The box was like two dollars." She was staring right at him like this had been a genuine offer she didn't have an opinion about, as opposed to a complete fabrication. Ethan blinked slowly, not in the way that cats are known to when calm and happy, but in the way that all people do, when they haven't slept in too long and they're eyes have to work up the strength to open again. Suddenly, his eyes opened up a bit more, like he just got an idea.

"…I thought you hated those," he said in a quieter "gotcha" sort of tone. He felt he fatally wounded Lynn's argument for eating the pop-up orangesicle.

"Eh, it's sugar." Lynn couldn't bring herself to deny her feelings on the topic, but admitting it wouldn't have been productive here.

"And why would you want that this late?" Ethan was having a field day with all these fallacies, but Lynn knew what she was doing. If he was having a field day, she was driving the bus.

"Why would you?"

The problem Ethan had with this answer is that it was completely right. To affirm this point would be to put down the sorbelicious citrus-pop, which was not an option, but to refute it would be to claim some kind of exception exclusive to him, and exalting one's self above the oldest sister opens up a whole new can of worms. He took a bite of the poppy freezy tangeriney, deep in thought.

"Good point," he said, in the exact same tone one would have said "touché," before raising the rod of frozen orange towards Lynn. "Cheers."

Lynn tapped her still unopened popscicle against Ethan's, and you could practically hear the clink sound of two old Kentucky bourbon glasses raised together in celebration, though perhaps, given the degree of dignity in this situation, the clack of two big, wooden tankards of ale would've fit better.

Ethan was in much better spirits now, but Lynn was now faced with the grim reality that everyone in the room - that is, Ethan and herself - expected her to eat the no-cream-yes-orange freezie she was holding. She popped the cap off, pushed the treat up a few inches, and raised it to her open mouth. She could feel the cold air emanating from it like a chilled wine, laced with the foulest of poisons. As she sunk her teeth in, she imagined the crude oil which was undoubtably refined into whatever unholy "natural and artificial flavors" were poured into this cardboard vial, and she felt the citric acid singe her tongue, hiding behind the siren song of thirteen grams of added sugars.

"Do you think you're like, alergic?" Ethan said, noticing that Lynn realized had been dramatically wincing the past five seconds. Lynn looked over to him without taking her mouth off of the poison. She finished her bite, thinking deeply. She couldn't really remember the last time she had an actual orange. She could remember the last time Ethan had an orange, soaked in juice and holding his paws like they were drenched in innocent blood on his way to wash it off, but the boys were always too quick to eat any oranges that entered the house.

"I don't know," she mumbled with her mouth full.

"That'd be the funniest possible conclusion to this, you know."

Over the next few minutes Lynn ate the rest of her peach-colored, non-peach-flavored treat like a child sipping the few milliliters of champagne he gets at the first midnight of the year; the song of the sugar didn't diminish any of the other problems she had with it, but she kept eating it anyway. Soon it was just the two of them, sitting in a dark living room with empty popsicle tubes in their paws. Without a word, Lynn got up from the couch and loaded the grocery bags onto her arm. Then looked back to Ethan, holding the box of the orangesque ice cylinders.

"I'll hide these in the back of the freezer for you," she smiled.

After that, Ethan's leg stopped seeming to be such a problem, and he started to feel like he might finally get some sleep.

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

[norrizzandpia]

WHO DECIDED TO FUCKING WAKE UP THIS MORNING AND DROP THE HOTTEST PICTURES OF LANDO AND ISCAR IM FIGHTING TO BREATHE OUT HERE YOU GUYS SEND HELP PLZ IM NOT OKAY IM SHORT CIRCUITING

[earlgreyflowers]

oscar getting jealous over how close we are to logan?? but its so subtle that we don't really notice which makes it worse 🤭

Word Count - 1.2k

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Logan was struggling, being a rookie in Williams was usually a recipe for disaster, and he knew it. He was one of your best friends, having known him through his Prema years with Oscar. You couldn't have been happier when you found out that your boyfriend and your best friend had both gotten seats in Formula One for 2023. Dividing your attention between the two of them has been hard. Oscar's been having one of the greatest rookie seasons since Hamilton, but Logan has been struggling. You tell him every race how much you admire his perseverance but you can see how it's wearing him down.

You knew Qatar would be a tough race, the reports of the heat being dangerous filling you with anxiety. But what you didn't expect was to be in the medical tent on Lap 42 with a devastated Logan. He was dripping with sweat by the time you found him, guzzling water like his life depended on it.

Heatstroke.

He was distraught, he'd hoped and prayed he could get better for this race, but he couldn't. The decision to retire wasn't one he took lightly, and he made sure to express that to you whilst you watched the remainder of the race. You could barely find it in yourself to listen to Logan rant as Oscar held P2 with Lando right behind him. After his sprint win yesterday Oscar had newfound confidence, dead set on a McLaren double podium this weekend. Your heart was in your mouth as Oscar crosses the line just 4.8 seconds behind Max.

He'd done it, P2 from P6, and Lando had done it too, moving up from P10 to P3. A double. You and Logan erupted in cheers in the medical tent, hugging each other as Oscar gets his second ever podium in Formula One - a back-to-back double for the team secured. You rush out of the tent, just about getting to the grid in time to see Oscar getting out of the car. He approaches you, visor lifted so you can see the smile in his eyes. You wrap your arms around him, pressing a kiss to the side of his helmet as you hear cameras snapping all around you.

The energy back in the garage was insane, everyone was on a high. You congratulated Lando as he came back into the garage after media, Oscar being commandeered by Max for a chat. Oscar eventually strides into the garage, shy grin on his face as everyone cheers his efforts. He comes straight to you, burying his head in your neck as he wraps his arms around you once more. Your hand rests on the base of his neck, soaked in sweat from the race.

"Where were you when the race ended?" You hear from behind you, turning to see Jon. "Oh, I was with Logan in the medical tent but I came straight to the grid when the race finished." You explain sweetly, Jon nodding with a tight-lipped grin, eyes flicking to Oscar behind you. You miss the way Oscar's face drops, eyebrow quirking and jaw clenching at the newfound knowledge. By the time you turn back around his smile is gone but he looks calm, "Let's get back to the hotel, want to shower." He explains curtly, marching off to remove his race suit. You stand there slightly baffled by his change in mood but brush it off as exhaustion.

"Logan said well done by the way, said he's proud of you." You tell Oscar, looking up from your phone to see him sat on the couch. He hums dismissively, "I'll text him to say thanks soon, tell him to talk to me direct not through my girlfriend for once." He huffs. You gently place yourself next to him, perched on the edge of the couch in hesitation. "What's that supposed to mean Oz?" You ask, a hand resting on his shin.

"Just mean that you're my girl, and you were with Logan when you should've been watching me." He mumbles, pulling you back so you're in between his legs. "I was watching you Oscar, Logan retired from illness I was just checking in on him." You explain, Oscar's large hands splayed across your stomach as he fiddles with the waistband of your shorts. His lips find home on your neck, "I know you were just being caring my angel, but you know you're mine don't you?" He murmurs. His soft wet lips send your shivers down your spine, your body arching into his as the tips of his fingers slip below your waistband.

His gentle fingers run over your underwear, feeling the damp spot that's been growing since you saw him get out of the shower earlier. "Is this all for me?" He groans, fingers sliding your panties to the side to swipe through the wetness. You nod against him with a whine as he tugs at your shorts. You slide them down your legs, revealing your white lace underwear to him. He urges you to settle back into your spot, fingers back in there rightful place. He collects more wetness on his middle and ring finger before moving his hand up to your mouth.

He swipes his fingers over your lips and you open them eagerly, swirling your tongue around the thick digits until they're clean. "So good for me, all mine. Only I get to see you like this, a desperate. aching. needy. slut." He whispers, pressing kisses to your neck to punctuate each word. You moan around his fingers before he removes them, using the lubrication of your spit to slide them both inside you. You moan out his name, thighs closing in, but Oscar's strong hand pries them open again. "Uh uh baby, need you to take it like you always do." He groans, the bucking of your hips applying pressure to his growing hard-on.

His fingers curl against your walls, pleads for more dripping from your mouth. "Who's making you feel this good?" He murmurs, the hand on your thigh now on your jaw, tilting your head back against his shoulder. "You Oscar, only you, always you- fuck." You whine, his fingers never stopping. He smirks, tapping your lip again with his thumb. Your mouth falls open, tongue out eagerly. Oscar groans, "Trained you so well sweetheart." His lips pucker slightly as he spits into your mouth, watching as you swallow it eagerly.

"Maybe I should get Logan to see how dirty you are for me, show him that I own you, own this pussy." He imagines, feeling your pussy clench around his fingers. He chuckles mockingly, "Of course you like that idea, want to be treated like a whore in front of your best friend." Your cheeks tinge pink in embarrassment as Oscar ridicules you, your skin on fire with pleasure.

"I can feel how close you are, want you to cum all over my hand baby, show me what I do to you." Oscar whispers in your ear, sucking a purple mark onto your pulse point as you let go. Your legs burn as your back arches, a scream of his name leaving your lips. Oscar fingers you through your orgasm, drawing it out of you. You collapse against his front, chest heaving. You hear his groan as he sucks his fingers clean, head turning to see his eyes shut in pleasure at the taste of you. "If Logan didn't already know you're mine at least now the whole floor does." He laughs, kissing the top of your head, making you curl into him in shame.

"Now where do you want to be fucked? Against the window or over the railing of the balcony?"

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

AGH FASHION DESIGNER SUGURU AND MODEL SATORU W A NEW INTERN DESIGNER UNDER THEIR WING 😞😞☹️ - 🌺

WAHHHH I LOVE THIS 🥺🥺🥺 the pining and flirting and slowburn of it all… model!satoru and his favorite designer suguru geto, both of them undeniably skilled and born with an eye for fashion….. well-known and adored……..

designer!suguru who gets tasked with showing you the ropes, who’s always so patient and kind despite your inexperience. diligent with his teaching but also so laidback, so easy to talk to… he looks intimidating, but he’s so polite that you can’t help but swoon a little. and he admires your enthusiasm so much…… grows fond of you soooo quickly bc you’re just such a breath of fresh air compared to the divas he’s forced to work with all the time. he thinks you’ve got real potential and he wants to nurture it.

and ofc you end up running into model!satoru eventually…. bc he’s always hanging around suguru whenever he gets the chance. and he’s maybe a little jealous that you’re hogging so much of his personal designer’s attention, but… he also thinks you’re so cute . T_T like a little puppy following suguru around… so excited to be apart of something you’ve dreamed of for so many years……… he looks into your eyes and sees the same sparkle he had before he made it big, and it makes his heart race.

yeah . i’m just thinking abt the peaceful coffee breaks with suguru….. how he’d insist on paying for your drink, ”since he’s your senior” (he wants to be your favorite </3)…… and how he’d just be so protective over his little intern. don’t get me started on the close proximity with satoru when you’re taking his measurements, the glance and smile he sends your way during an impromptu shoot… the way he always calls for you with a sweet coo of ”how’s my favorite intern doing today?”

😔😔😔 yeahhhhhh. they make me feel ill.

[svtskneecaps]

lukewarm take of the evening: y'all care too much about being ""outdated"". fellas this smp moves inhumanly fast. it is ok to CHILL holy shit CHILL. y'all are like "(posts BANGER ART) super late guys sorry" friend i am hitting you with a blanket i am snapping you with my metaphorical towel WHAT DO YOU MEAN SORRY. "(posts BANGER FIC) rip this is outdated now" WHO CARES???? I LOVE YOU, OK. ohhhh woe is us as the fandom at large for having MORE HAPPY PILLS ARC CONTENT oh no how outdated!! how could you be writing speculative fiction about how forever felt during happy pills :( slash SARCASM!! WHAT DO YOU MEAN!!!! THERE ARE SO MANY BANGER ARCS, WHAT, YOU THINK WE'RE COMPLAINING????? FOR GETTING MORE OF THE CONTENT WE LOVED????? oh no we're past the period where everyone thought green gay ninjas were like Dead Dead, my work is now outdated and noncanon :( WDYM. GIMME. A BANGER IS A BANGER IDC IF IT TAKES THREE MONTHS. you think rome was built in a day?? fuck you, baltimore, GIMME. my ass has been cooking a goddamn backflipo family fic since july when it was ALREADY outdated do you think i fear god??? "oh no, you're making an edit of slime's (attempted) egg murdering spree?? how could you, that was months ago it's irrelevant" SAID NO ONE EVER.

save your wrists kidlings ok carpal tunnel is no joke. CHILL!!!!! CHILL!!!!!!!! TAKE YOUR TIME SHEEEEEESH OK LOVE YOU <3

[cloudy-em]

Luca x Reader - cam girl SMUT

warnings: 18+, fem!reader, lingerie, dirty talk, online sex, toys, sub!reader, mild voyeurism, masturbation, light sir & chef kink

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

When Luca first discovered Y/N's cam page, he closed his laptop and pushed it away. She was his coworker, the saucier, and he wasn't sure he could face her in the kitchen if he jerked his dick to her videos. But he couldn't help the way his cock throbbed more in his pants. He had always found her quite attractive, and she would never even know if he had watched her videos or not.

So, he opened his laptop again, tugging down his pants and boxers, and clicking on her first video.

She wore a dark red lingerie set, the lace hiding her breasts and mound from view.

"I've waited all day to see you," Y/N's voice purred through the tiny laptop speakers. "I'm so needy without you, d'you wanna see?" Luca found himself whispering a "yes" in response, knowing fully well she couldn't hear him. But she began to strip on the screen, her tits on full display. Luca's cock strained, and he teased the head, wishing he could play with those beautiful tits, worship them with his mouth. He watched in awe as she stripped the panties as well, her soft pussy visibly wet and a cute red jewel tucked tightly into her ass. He watched as she grabbed the dildo from off screen running the length up her cunt to collect her wetness.

She spread her legs for the camera to view, and Luca could only focus on what it would be like to eat her for hours, keeping that beautiful cunt wet 24/7 for his use.

"Ah," her voice echoed through his bedroom. "You're so big, sir!" He watched her tight pussy struggle to take the dildo at first, having to work it into herself. Luca thought about destroying her with his size, her pussy would gush just to try and take his whole cock. She'd feel it in her stomach while he fucked her, moaning nothing but his name. On the screen, she thrusted the dildo in her cunt.

"Oh fuck, please sir, please cum inside me!" she begged over and over again. "Cum inside my pussy please!" Luca tugged his dick harder, growling aloud in his empty apartment, promising to fill her hungry pussy with his load. He imager her calling him chef instead of sir, and he only felt his cock get harder. He released on his hand, jerking himself beyond his orgasm.

He felt dirty masturbating to his coworker, but he couldn't help but feel it might've been the best orgasm of his life.

Thus began his ritualistic masturbation to her videos every evening after leaving the restaurant.

xxxxxxxxx

part 2???

[gio-cosmo]

We are livin our liiiivvvveeesss abound with so much informatiooonnnn

[isbahstudio]

🟣 Warm cups of tea, soft and sweet pastries, and exquisite pieces of literature, the best way to start the day.

[erisenyo]

HI hello I’m LOOKING!! at the sentence starters prompts!! if u want either “i wish i met you sooner” or “do you remember when we first met?” for zukka <33 (but i’ll eat up anything you write tbh)

For this prompt game! (And also this one!)

“Oh, shit,” Sokka blurts out, “I think I’m in love with you.”

“Are you now,” Zuko rolls his eyes, pretending he isn't biting back a laugh as he tugs the Jasmine Dragon’s door closed behind him and tosses Sokka the keys to the bakery case.

“I mean, at the very least I wish I met you sooner.” Sokka catches the keys without even glancing away from the pastries on display—which is strangely but undeniably hot—looking utterly besotted—which is strangely but undeniably cute. “I could’ve been getting this every night.”

“And what’s what you’d want from me every night, huh,” Zuko says, dry, leaning back against the counter as Sokka approaches the glass display with something like reverence.

“I mean.” Sokka gives Zuko a quick, grinning once over. “I’d settle for some other things, too.”

 Zuko hums, neutral, keeping his face unimpressed even as he feels the thrill of flirting in his chest, the thrill of a date gone well and long and the whole night suddenly stretching out in front of them. “You’d settle for it, would you.”

“Oh yeah,” Sokka says, tossing a wolfish grin over his shoulder before refocusing with what Zuko is realizing is a singular kind of intensity on the food in front of him. “I’d settle for it real good. Now—what do you suggest? What’s good?”

“It’s all good,” Zuko says, automatic and rote after so many years working here and apparently obvious enough about it that Sokka gives him a sideways, knowing look.

“What do you like to eat?”

…He wouldn’t think it would be a dealbreaker, but then he’s never seen someone eat so much ramen with so much enthusiasm before. “I don’t really eat sweets,” he admits after a beat.

“Your loss,” Sokka shrugs, unconcerned. “Just means more for me,” he adds, low and throaty and running a slow, admiring finger down the line of the display case which…again, strangely but undeniably hot.

Mai is going to absolutely roast the shit out him for this, when she finds out about it.

“But what do you want to watch me eat, then?” Sokka asks, giving Zuko another flirting kind of smirk, and Zuko pauses again, hesitating.

Not that it’s an automatic dealbreaker for him, but, “Like as a kink thing?”

“Do you want it to be?” Sokka replies without missing a beat, and Zuko stares a moment longer before deciding they can circle back to that later.

“How about an éclair,” Zuko suggests, tone somewhere between casual and challenging and something delighted fizzing in his chest when Sokka glances into the case and immediately gets the picture, his expression wicked and amused in equal turns as he pulls out the length of pate-a-choux.

“Is it already filled?” Sokka murmurs, eyes half-lidded as he admires the pastry.

“Yeah,” Zuko says, hearing his own voice going even huskier and…very aware that that look is really doing it for him already. “Crème pat.”

“Perfect,” Sokka grins, holding Zuko’s eyes and biting into the éclair with a suggestiveness he really has no right to when he’s biting pieces off. Zuko watches, caught, as Sokka gives little kitten licks of his tongue, dripping cream, parting his lips against the crisp dough. And then Zuko watches, caught in a whole different way, as Sokka becomes more and more exaggerated until he’s full on bobbing up and down the pastry.  

“Interesting technique,” Zuko says, half laughing, trying to keep a straight face as Sokka shows off his apparent lack of gag reflex.

“So I’ve been told,” Sokka says as he pulls off with a grin, wiping a streak of ganache off his face before taking a normal bite. “Mm, fucking amazing,” he says around the mouthful, innuendo gone from his tone but still more than suggestive as he groans around another bite, looking blissed out and slack faced and suddenly Zuko has a vision of Sokka looking exactly like that as he— “You make these?”

“Sometimes,” Zuko says, clearing his throat.

“You make this one?”

“Yeah.” He made it this afternoon. With Uncle standing next to him. And Ty Lee working the register. Uncle who works here every day. And Ty Lee who has known him since before he got over his lisp is best friends with Azula. And maybe if he reminds himself of both of those facts enough right now, he’ll be able to work tomorrow without getting hard.

Sokka hums, looking impressed as he glances around the kitchen space, and Zuko embraces the warm flush of pleasure at the idea of anything so mundane as working in the Jasmine Dragon being worth a look like that. “You wear an apron when you do it? The baking?”

“Sometimes,” Zuko shrugs, following Sokka’s glance to the neat row of aprons hanging by the sink.

“Hm. You ever wear one with nothing else on underneath?” Sokka asks, faux causal and all sidelong smolder that has Zuko abruptly deciding that maybe risking wayward erections during work tomorrow isn’t quite so bad.

“When I’m not here?” Zuko says, letting his eyes go half-lidded as he gives Sokka slow, thorough once over before catching his gaze again. “Sometimes.”

“I can’t wait to see that,” Sokka says, finishing off the éclair, “If that’s not too forward to say on a first date.”

“You just fellated an éclair in front of my,” Zuko points out, dry, even as anticipation sparks in his chest, “I think we might be past forward.”

“I did, didn’t I,” Sokka grins, holding Zuko’s eyes as he licks his fingers clean, “Anything else you’d like me to fellate?”

“Oh,” Zuko says, making a show of considering it, possibility and the slow winding tension between them a comfortable burn in his veins, the knowledge of where tonight is going to go but with no particular urgency to get there, to give up this one moment for the next, “I have an idea or two.”

“Or two?” Sokka murmurs, head cocking as he sidles back up to Zuko, intent and invitation in the angle of his body.

“Oh yeah,” Zuko smolders back, hooking Sokka’s belt look and tugging him gently in, savoring the easy way Sokka lets himself be pulled forward, the feel of Sokka’s hands coming to rest against Zuko’s chest. “How do you feel,” he murmurs low into Sokka’s ear, anticipation sharp in his veins, “About cannolis.”

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

honestly. half the fun of fantasy aus for me is the Food Descriptions

[pastrydragon]

Accent, speech pattern and Voice headcanons for the Gotham Rogues.

Riddler

In casual settings, Eddie has a slight New Jersey accent and cusses with the frequency you would expect from that.

He almost always has perfect grammar and has a very impressive vocabulary.

But there are some situations where "Fuck" just does not have a suitable replacement.

When he's going against Batman, The Riddler adopts a more trans Atlantic accent since it goes with his gameshow aesthetic.

Also since a LOT of his schemes are publicly televised he doesn't want to cuss on camera or forget to project his voice.

So adopting a different accent helps his brain remember how to act on camera so he can always appear classy.

Edward's voice is a bit more high and nasally than average, but not to an annoying degree. It's not particularly unique either. So if he remembers so change his voice slightly then he can make a phone call to anywhere and they won't recognize him.

Emotional variations include his accent getting thicker when he's angry or exhausted.

Scarecrow

John has a very rural Georgian accent.

Scarecrow: The Master Of Fear has a rather dramatic way of speaking due to his love of classic literature and poetry.

His years in academia have also left him with a very intellectual and scientific vocabulary.

John speaks with a kind of intensity and eloquence that you'd expect on a stage rather than at the front of a classroom.

A smooth baritone only enhances the effect.

Had he not been a professor, he would have made a killing as a raidio star or television narrator.

John only breaks out Southernisms when he's embarrassed. "Well I never!" "Why I outta-" he also stammers when embarrassed. otherwise his speech patterns don't have noticeable emotional variation except the ones he puts there.

Mad Hatter

Jervis has a strong Bristol accent. Which is an English accent that strongly pronounces R's and tends to slap an L at the end of words that should end in a vowel.

The classic example is Opera'l instead of Opera.

His voice is naturally high and soft, often making him sound much more indulgent toward others than he's actually feeling.

Although he does quote the Alice books often, he does not quote longer passages exactly unless he's having an episode.

The rest of the time he'll change them to fit what's happening or merely reference them.

If he's feeling particularly lucid and cheery, you may not even hear mention of the books at all.

Stress will cause longer more accurate quotes and chip at his lucidity along the way.

His only other emotional variation comes out when he's feeling flirtatious.

Jervis's voice tends to get more breathy and cooing around people he likes. He also goes harder on his R's giving some words a purr like sound.

Harley Quinn

We all know and love our girl Harley's Brooklyn accent.

Honestly I can't make an improvement on the BTAS version so scroll down.

Poison Ivy

Pam has a Virginian accent. It's the kind of southern bell accent you'd associate with Blanche Devereux.

Pair that with a voice like a lounge singer and everything that comes out of her mouth sounds sexy.

Even when she doesn't want it to.

It's actually pretty annoying for her.

Unlike John she uses plenty of southernisms such as "I Reckon" "Over yonder" and of course the venom filled "Bless your heart."

Catwomen

The Miami accent is strong on this women, and it tells you exactly why she moved to Gotham.

You can't wear all black leather in the kind of weather Florida's got.

Miami heat isn't sweet to everyone.

Being a second generation Cuban immigrant, she speaks Spanish fluently and while she speaks both it and English seamlessly she has run into one glitch.

She will occasionally forget whether a turn of phrase was originally English or Spanish.

She called John a dancing skeleton once and no one has let it die. From Esqueleto rumbero- Literally: Dancing skeleton, Meaning: Very thin.

Her actual voice is a pretty standard alto. Like Ed, as long as she disguises her accent she can basically call wherever without being recognized.

Another rogue that hits their R's harder while flirting. But it's less a seductive purr and more an "Oh, I'm being HUNTED" kind of sound to hear.

Bane

Bane is directly from Venezuela and has the accent to match.

His English is phenomenal for someone who's only been speaking it a few years but it's not always perfect.

Whenever he doesn't know or forgets the word for something he'll describe it using other words until the other person figures it out for him.

For example, this interaction between him and Riddler: "I need the office knives." "... I'm sorry, what?" "The office knives, with the holes in the handle." "Hmmm, is the answer perhaps scissors?" "YES! I need the scissors!"

Edward is the grand champion of figuring out what Bane is saying if Catwomen or Music Meister isn't there to translate the word from Spanish.

Bane has a naturally loud and deep voice which can make him sound aggressive even when he's not trying to be. His size doesn't help.

But really he's a very calm and levelheaded person.

If he's actually angry, you'll know it from how quiet deliberate his speech becomes.

A quiet Bane is a dangerous Bane.

Joker

New York accent.

Drops occasional NY phrases but doesn’t mention anything culturally significant to New York unless someone else brings it up.

He doesn't remember what part of New York he's from but if asked he'll say Coney Island.

His jealousy over Eddie growing up in Wildwood is real.

Harley swears up and down he's from Staten Island and anyone familiar with the different New York accents would agree with her.

Joker has a pretty distinct reedy voice that all gothamites will recognize as soon as they hear it.

It gets even higher on the rare occasion he's scared or nervous.

Music Meister

SoCal (Southern California) accent.

This accent is also called Valley Girl.

He's originally from San Diego and spent his early twenties in LA so the accent is thick and locked in.

He moved to the east coast to attempt a Broadway career before turning to villainy and kind of regrets not moving back west first.

He's the first person to complain about cold weather and bad Mexican food when the chance pops up.

But he's gotten too fond of the other rogues to seriously consider leaving.

Even if the Scarecrow keeps smacking him with a newspaper every time he misuses the word "literally".

He automatically starts singing his words when he becomes frightened or incredibly nervous. Which made sense until he revealed he did that even before he got his powers.

Odd.

Killer Croc

Waylon has a thick cajun accent, that along with a naturally growly bass voice can make it difficult for others to understand him.

He prefers speaking French to English and will go out of his way to talk to people he thinks might speak his preferred language.

Jervis, Edward, Victor Fries and Joker speak with him in French when in a one on one conversation. 

Yes Joker speaks French, no he doesn’t remember why or how. He honestly didn’t even know he could until he met Waylon. 

Waylon is incredibly charming and personable once you figure out what he's saying, he's definitely the most well liked rogue among his peers next to Harley.

Emotional variants include getting even more growly when angry and speaking completely in French when distracted.

Penguin

A lot of people say he has an English accent, he doesn’t, never say this in front of him.

The man is WELSH, and he has ruined people’s lives over having his accent confused on particularly difficult days.

He takes great pride in his heritage and being accused of being “English” of all things is one of the quickest ways to sour his mood.

No offense to Mr. Tetch of course, it's the principle of the thing really.

He rarely speaks Welsh these days unless visiting extended family.

He does use the proverb “Deuparth gwaith yw ei ddechrau”(Two-thirds of work is starting), mostly to himself but he’ll use the proverb with others when appropriate.

Emotional variants include his voice getting squawk like when scared. He also laughs like a mad pelican.

Clayface

I forget who came up with this originally and I'm kicking myself for not remembering but I've adopted the head canon that Clayface was an "aging" K-pop/drama star that was on tour in the states when his manager coerced him into trying an experimental cosmetic treatment that turned him into Clayface.

So Clay has a very strong Korean accent and probably speaks the worst English out of all the rogues.

It's passable but he understandably just wasn't expecting to need it this much.

Despite his difficulties he still somehow gains control over the majority of his conversations and seems to exude likability.

He's trained for years to make his voice as soothing and pleasant as possible and he's not going to let being a mud monster ruin his hard work.

Until something triggers his traumatic memories and sends him into a frothing rage full of bubbling curses or a depressive meltdown where he becomes a pile of blubbering goo.

He's totally incomprehensible when he's having either kind of breakdown even to other Korean speakers, honestly HE doesn't even really know what he's saying.

Many of the rogues have hired him to put his acting skills to use in various schemes and Clayface is amazed at all the new voices he can do.

He's also been Music Meister's backup vocalist for a few of his schemes so you know he's legitimately good.

Bookworm

He has a rather general east coast accent.

Until he gets angry and starts cursing in Portuguese.

You'd never guess because he's an ashy fucker and his skin never sees the sun since he spends all his time reading inside, but the guy is mainly indigenous Brazilian.

You might be able to get a clue from his facial features if he wasn't wearing the world's thickest glasses and a hat.

He has near permanent "Library voice" so people often struggle to hear him above everything else that might be going on.

His voice is surprisingly sonorous and captivating when he can be well heard.

Since Arkham doesn't often get new books, fresh literature was fought over until Joker suggested "AudioBookworm" which is just Bookworm reading the new book aloud for everyone.

Until his little used voice gives out a bit at which point Scarecrow or Mad Hatter will step in until the end of the chapter.

Mr. Freeze

Victor has a moderate Icelandic accent.

Riddler and Joker have a competition going to see how many lines from Skyrim they can trick him into saying.

Victor figured it out immediately but plays dumb to this day in order to fuck with them.

He said "Hey, you. You're finally awake." to Edward after he woke up from a nap in the rec room once and Victor will treasure the face that nerd made forever.

Victor has a bit of a "resting bitch voice" he always sounds annoyed.

Unless he's talking to Nora, then he just sounds like a simp.

Not really a voice head canon but he gets hiccups very easily from laughing.

BONUS Nora

Nora is from Belarus so she often got mistaken for having a Russian accent.

But unlike Oswald she rarely cares enough to correct people much less get angry over it.

Nora speaks with great confidence and authority, even when she doesn't necessarily have either.

Her voice definitely broadcasts "Don't even fucking THINK about arguing with me."

The personality and accent get her the nickname "Ice queen" wherever she works.

Which is very unfair, she's a kind and compassionate women!

She's just also right and she should say it.

Nora's voice becomes utterly saccharine around Victor, they're absolutely obnoxious to listen to together.

[pastrypurgatory]

okay I got tired of Intermortal not tangibly existing yet. so I made a first draft of chapter one for like the fourth time now. and I'm putting it here. it's built like a fruit cake and nothing makes sense, but it exists now, in a state I'm not terribly unhappy with. except maybe the title.

Chapter 1: Gray Area

His story will begin as far back as he could recall at the time, when he was free-falling through an empty space. When he had no eyes to open, and all he could see was dark, and when no sounds entered the ears he did not have either.

All he sensed was that there was something else beneath him. Something he was falling towards. It was as if a distant ring was slowly growing closer, and soon much more quickly. He braced for impact, if only mentally, and it still remained dark as the ring came to him.

But then, he barely heard the gentle flow of air, for the first time he could say he remembered.

He opened his eyes, and all around him sprawled a flat, gray expanse. Muted light trickled down from above, shining faintly against the floating, silver spheres which were scattered throughout the air. There was a faint echo of what sounded almost like wind, distantly resounding all around him.

For a minute, he stood still, but the howling echoes unsettled him. The flat plane of gray seemed to stretch on and on. He began to walk straight ahead, looking around everywhere but where he was going, and stopped only just before running into one of the low-flying orbs.

It was a solid sphere of the smoothest silver. He didn't see it moving an inch, even up so close. He moved his stance back, and slowly began to raise a hand up to it, but the orb then began to move, stretching toward his hand as he moved it closer.

He jumped back like a scared cat, but the orb had already moved out of his sight in his panic. He looked around frantically in every direction until he saw it right beside his hand; it followed him. He scrambled in the opposite direction he was facing while shaking his hand like a madman, and the orb quickly lost its invisible grip on his hand and splattered into a splash of liquid metal against the floor, but he continued running, ducking and weaving around any of the other hundreds of orbs which were close to the floor, until he slammed his face into a wall he couldn't see at the fastest speed he could muster and fell flat on his back immediately after.

He stood up quickly, darting his eyes all around, but none of those orbs of liquid silver were moving. In fact, there were hardly any near him at the moment. The echoes of wind were louder there, near the invisible wall he just ran into. He reached a hand out to the wall, and he could feel the sound reverberating through them. In attempting to see how large it was, he only found more walls, forming a large, invisible box around him. He was feeling even more so now that he didn't want to be here, but he was quickly running out of things to investigate, other than the orbs, of course, but he didn't want to get involved with them again.

…

Still, it was clear to him that if there was any way out of this place, his only chance was to confront the orbs again. So he did. He went up to another low-floating orb, and stood, staring. He wanted to make sure it wasn't going to do anything weird, but it wasn't like not doing anything weird was going to get anything done, so he raised a hand slowly up to it. It moved, just like before, seeming to flow as a liquid closer to his hand, but he stayed still this time, and the orb slowed to a stop at a marginal distance from touching his hand.

He still didn't like doing this, but at least it seemed like it only did anything in response to something he did. It kind of made him feel stupid how much of his strength he put into running from what was very clearly just a regular, albeit levitating, liquid, but he felt he was making some inscrutable sort of progress. He waved the hand to his left, and the liquid metal followed, quickly flowing until was as near to his hand as before. He moved his hand to the right again, into the blob, which orbited around his hand, out of the way, as though it refused to get too close to his hand and was repelled.

With his head less clouded by fear, he recalled that he managed to separate an orb from his hand just a minute ago, by waving his hand at rapid, adrenaline-fueled speeds. Having (and wanting) nothing else to do with the thing, he tried to recreate that. He took a step back and began swiping his hand from left to right, though his movements were much more decisive this time, and the blob was launched away from his hand with just the second swipe, audibly cutting the air before it splattered against one of the invisible walls. The whole expanse vibrated from the resounding impact.

He stared towards the impact. He looked at his hand. Then, in a rush, he reached for the nearest orb, and in a more effective motion, threw it at the wall as hard as he could, and when he looked, there was the faintest crack in the wall, letting a bright light leak through.

He took one last orb as he began running towards the crack, and swung it into the wall at point-blank range. The cracks spread nearly all across the wall, and he began to step back as broken pieces started falling.

The bulk of the wall collapsed like a broken mirror, and the silver expanse was filled with a bright light.

[keniaku]

[first id: a digital fanart of gojo satoru and geto suguru as a fake manga cover, the latter is depicted as a curse, with a bloody, spiraling hole in his face, his hair is loose and curtains over gojo under him. gojo is hugging geto tightly and protectively by the middle, eye glaring at the viewer accusingly, while geto stands still and limp under his hold. gojo is also wearing geto’s gauges.

second id: a doodle of gojo with geto as a black halo behind his head. he’s smiling cheerfully although with dead eyes to the camera, holding an ice cream in one hand. the background vaguely resembles a carnival. the text over him says “you’re in his dms i forcibly tore out his soul out of his dead body and bound it to mine we are not the same” /end id.]

curse geto cover :-)

[good-beanswrites]

I'm going to do a more serious/sweet one but while trying to write Es-Fuuta sibling dynamic this happened adsfdsf

Es squinted around the scene of the crime. Amane was sitting closest to ground zero: the plate that used to hold Es’ breakfast. Mikoto was at the stove cooking eggs. Fuuta was getting a drink over at the counter. Mahiru sat on the other side of Amane, enjoying some tea. She was the first to notice their expression.

“Is everything alright, Warden?” 

They drew themselves up, glad their uniform heels gave them a bit of extra height. “Do you know where my pastry went?” 

“Ah, I had one ready for everyone! I left one out for you near the toaster~”

“Yes, and I put it on the table. Now it’s gone.” They gestured to the empty plate. Mikoto glanced over. “I was looking forward to it.”

It was an understatement. Mahiru had baked them the night before, and Es had thought about the treat the entirety of the night, and all of the morning. Their stomach grumbled, as if agreeing.

Mahiru shook her head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see anyone move it,” she said.

“Neither have I,” Amane said.

“I don’t know where it went,” Mikoto said. 

Fuuta shrugged.

Es squinted at him. He still stood with his back turned, fumbling with his drink. “Fuuta?”

There was no ‘I didn’t take your fucking pastry!’, no ‘what the hell are you blaming me for?’, no ‘how dare you?’ He just shrugged again, more exaggerated. 

Es moved around the table.  “Fuuta…”

He hurried to turn his body away from them. In doing so, he revealed himself to the others. Mahiru gasped. 

“You ate it!”

Finally he spoke, his voice desperate through the mouthful of food. “I didn’t know!” 

But Es was ready to take down the criminal.

“You ate it??” They grabbed him from behind, preventing his escape. 

“Hey,” came Fuuta’s muddled words, “get off!”

They weren’t really sure what their next move was – it wasn’t like he could give the pasty back. Still, they clung tight. Fuuta tried to shrug them off, but Es would show him they weren't some weak kid he could mess with.

“You think you can just go around stealing my breakfast with no consequences?” They yanked him back, throwing him off balance.

He did his best to stand his ground “I told you –”  he swallowed, erasing all evidence of the awful deed, “– I didn’t even know it was yours!”

“Ha! A convenient excuse!”

The two struggled back and forth. The others looked on with a mix of unease and amusement. They decided not to intervene. Fuuta managed to gain a moment of freedom, only for Es to use the momentum to take them both to the ground. 

They lay sprawled, still arguing about the bygone breakfast, when Jackalope hopped into the kitchen. He stared the two right in the eye.

“A-ah. Jackalope.” Es scrambled to their feet. They coughed. “My apologies. I was simply… delivering some justice.”

Fuuta stood as well, brushing himself off. “Some justice! This was as shoddy as your usual warden duties…”

They glared at one another. 

The rabbit just stared. 

Es bowed their head, their expression calming down. “My apologies. I may have gotten a bit carried away.” Jackalope started hopping away. Es moved to follow him, muttering, “Fuuta was the one who started it, though.”

“Like hell I did!”

“The pastry didn’t eat itself, now did it?”

“I didn’t just fucking fall to the ground myself, did I?”

“I’ve seen you do it before…”

“I swear, I’m gonna…!”

[lunchables--official]

Holly Talks About Gordon Freeman's Dubious Grandmother in Half Life but the Next One or Whatever