#so what if blue baked an apple tart

[bear-cubs-art-things]

So I decided to draw Blue and Tweedledee

NOW IN COLOR

Bonus

A little traditional doodle I made before I went to bed last night lol

[navybrat817]

Easy as Pie

Pairing: Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: You bake pies for Andy, but you're still his favorite treat. Word Count: Over 2.6k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, cockwarming, slight body worship, sensory deprivation (blindfolding), established relationship, light D/s vibes, mention of insecurities, Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Fic #2 for Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! Special thanks for suggesting soft Andy, @whisperlullaby (body worship and sensory deprivation) and @drabblewithfrannybarnes (cockwarming). ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Baking was a hobby you enjoyed and what better time to make pies than in the fall? When you asked Andy that morning if he'd prefer to have a pumpkin or apple pie for dessert that evening, he told you to choose for him. It was tough for you to decide. For pumpkin, the earthy pleasant flavor and creamy filling was a wonderful contrast to the flaky trust. For apple, the sweet and tart combination was both delicious and complex.

After a quick mental debate, you decided to bake Andy one of each so he could have the best of both worlds.

“I guess I'll just have to surprise you,” you told him before he left for work.

“Either way, I'll still want you for dessert.”

You were looking forward to that.

It would've been easy for you to buy crust or filling from the store, but you preferred to bake from scratch. As tedious as it was to get the consistency right, it was fulfilling to see your progress from beginning to end. You also told Andy that baking engaged your senses, from touch to taste to smell. It relaxed you as well as energized you. It was almost like the aroma pushed you to the finish line.

By the time you finished baking and cleaning up, it was late afternoon. You were proud of how the pies turned out. Plus the smile on Andy's face when he walked into the kitchen was worth double the work.

“Right on time,” you smiled, removing your apron as he glanced over where the pies sat on display. “How was your day?”

“Better now that I’m home,” he said, loosening his tie before he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. He brought his hands to your waist to hold you close, your body molding easily against his. “Did you have a good day?”

“I did, but it’s better now that you’re home,” you said in return.

“You had a good day baking a pumpkin and an apple pie for me?” He questioned as you nodded. “You spoil me, honey. Thank you.”

It was almost laughable that he considered you baking pies as spoiling him. He worked hard as a lawyer and was still a loving partner even with his often busy schedule. The least you could do was take care of him in some form, though you were certain you got the better end of the stick by being with Andy.

“Don’t thank me until you taste them. They may not be so great,” you teased.

The hands on your waist gripped you a little tighter. “Don’t do that.”

Self-deprecating was something Andy didn’t care for, especially when he knew how hard you worked. He understood that there would be days when you wouldn’t think the world of yourself, but he never wanted you to put yourself or your skills down. Even if you were joking and nothing more, he preferred that you saw the best in yourself. If you didn’t, he found ways to tell or show you how special you were.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that,” you said, shrinking slightly under his fierce gaze before you brushed your fingers along his thick beard. “I’m sure they taste great.”

“I’m sure they do, too,” he said, the blue of his eyes darkening as you moved your fingers to his hair. “Now say something nice about yourself.”

You chewed on your bottom lip as you sifted through your thoughts, doing your best to find something positive to say that didn’t sound like you were bragging. “I put love into everything I do and that’s what counts.”

Andy’s piercing gaze softened as he gently held your chin, bringing a smile to both of your faces. “That’s how I know your pies will taste delicious. Because you made them with love.”

Praise was something you typically shied away from, but it was different with Andy. You welcomed the way warmth blossomed from your core and embraced how it spread from your head to your toes. “Double the love since you wouldn’t decide which one you wanted,” you said, his chest rising a bit as he chuckled. “Now you have to pick which one you want to try first. Unless you want to wait until after dinner.”

His brows pinched together slightly as he considered your question. He couldn’t go wrong with either. “I think I’d rather skip dinner and go right to dessert,” he answered, venturing over to the counter.

You watched as he carefully cut and plated a slice from both pies, your breath hitching when he licked some of the apple filling off his finger. He wasn't trying to seduce you at the moment, but it was working. “I don’t mind that at all,” you said as he went back to you, your fingers wrapping around his tie to have him close again. “And where would you like to have dessert?”

“In the living room,” he replied, running his free hand up and down your arm. “And there’s something else I want to try.”

“And what’s that?” You asked curiously.

“I want you to sit on my cock,” he began, bringing his hand back to your waist as you inhaled. It was always a good time for you when he wanted to play. “And I want to blindfold you.”

You whimpered, eager to give him what he wanted. Him robbing you of your sight as he stayed deep inside you would enhance everything else around you. Would his cock feel harder than usual? Would his hands and lips make you tremble more than normal?

“And you’re going to sit perfectly still while I have a slice of each pie,” he continued, his voice gruff as your breathing picked up.

“You want me to sit still while I keep you warm?” You questioned as he kissed your forehead with a smile.

“That’s exactly what I want,” he whispered, dragging his lips down to the tip of your nose. “You naked and blindfolded while my hands and mouth wander, letting me worship you as I eat those delicious pies you put so much care into.”

You made some sort of embarrassing sound at his words, wondering if was going to keep his suit on while you kept his cock warm. It was such a power move and one you loved exploring with him. While he was physically dominant over you, he was also verbally appreciative and tender. He loved you exactly the way you needed him to.

“Maybe I want to worship you, Andy,” you said. He deserved for you to love him the way he needed you to as well.

“Not tonight,” he said, a hint of dominance starting to seep in. There would be no arguing with him. “Not when I’m going to eat you out after I pump you full.”

Fuck.

“And what’ll happen if I don’t stay still?” You asked breathlessly, shivering when his mouth touched the corner of yours, his beard tickling your skin.

“You won’t come,” he replied, smirking when you took a step back and narrowed your eyes. “At least, not right away.”

“That's just mean, Mr. Barber,” you said with the smallest of pouts. He only edged you if there was a reason to do so. Though it wouldn't surprise you if he dragged it out for your self-deprecating comment earlier.

“I won't be mean tonight, but I will need you to be patient,” he said, nudging you toward the doorway. “Go to the living room and strip. I'll be there in a moment.”

Glancing over your shoulder, you smirked as you said, “Yes, Sir.”

The smirk fell as you began to undress in front of the couch with shaky hands. Though the curtains were drawn, the light in the room was bright enough that you wouldn't have a chance to hide from Andy's stare. The thought had your heart racing faster because he cherished every part of you. Any imperfection to you was a thing of beauty to him.

“Fuck, you really do spoil me.”

The rich timbre of Andy's voice made your hands fall to your sides, the ache between your thighs stronger as he walked toward you. Your nipples hardened as his eyes swept over you, like he actually touched you. It was embarrassing how wet you were when he hadn't laid a finger on you yet. You didn’t even close your eyes until he moved close enough that his nose brushed against yours.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his lips almost touching yours before he set the pie down. “You ready to take a seat or should I check?”

“I think you should check,” you said, opening your eyes as you widened your stance.

His gaze moved lower as he cupped your pussy, his fingers brushing along your slit. You were patient, letting him tease you when what you wanted was for him to stab his fingers deep. Watching him bring his glistening fingers to his lips to taste you seconds later, it was a feat your knees didn’t buckle.

He didn’t beckon you any closer as he lowered his pants and underwear, his cock springing free. His gaze devoured you still as he took a seat, lightly stroking himself with a moan as you stood there waiting. Your mouth watered at the thought of dropping to your knees and swallowing him down. It was another way to keep him warm. But he was in charge and what he wanted was your pussy.

You wouldn’t deny him.

“Come here,” he urged, taking your hand to help you into his lap. He stroked your thigh with his other hand as you straddled him. “Take me in.”

Gripping the base of his cock, you stared into his eyes as you lined him up with your entrance. Prolonged eye contact was another thing Andy taught you to appreciate. Watching the swirl of emotions in his eyes as you began to sink down made your heart almost beat out of your chest. Both of you sighed as you continued to move down, not wanting to go too fast. It would hurt him if you got hurt.

“Good girl,” he praised as you took a moment to appreciate how good he felt. He removed the tie from around his neck when you tightened slightly around him. You almost forgot he planned to blindfold you. “You let me know if this is too much, okay?”

“I will,” you promised. You never had to use your safeword with Andy, but knew he’d stop right away if anything made you uncomfortable. Communication was everything to him. “I trust you.”

He paused, a raw expression on his face as he didn’t reply. You framed his cheeks, wordlessly telling him that he didn’t have to speak. Trust wasn’t something either of you gave easily. Something about him made it easy. Maybe it was how deep your love for him ran.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice thick as he covered your eyes with the tie. He didn’t make it too tight, but you couldn’t see a thing. “Now be good for me.”

You gasped when one of his hands closed over your breast, your back arching to get more of his touch. You had to bite your lip to hold in your moans when his mouth enclosed around your nipple, his tongue suckling the hardened bud. Your cunt throbbed as he switched, giving equal care to each side with his hand and mouth.

“So lucky to have you,” he rasped as he released your nipple, your breathing heavy as you heard the fork scrape along the plate. Your cunt throbbed when he moaned, the sound filthy and deep. “Have a taste.”

You breathed in deeply through your nose, but Andy didn’t bring the fork to your mouth. He kissed you instead, making you cling to him as you tasted the spices on his tongue. It was stronger than normal, the flavor exploding in your mouth. You practically saw colors dancing behind your eyelids, giving various shades to the sweet taste he shared with you.

“Sweet just like your cunt,” he growled, arousal pooling in your gut as he moved his lips down your neck. Your hands were free, but you felt completely at his mercy. Your pleasure was in his hands. “Doing so well. Just keep me warm while I eat.”

You were desperate for more, but you stayed as still as you could. He kept a hand on you as he took bites, between gently grabbing your ass or rubbing your thigh. His lips and tongue touched wherever they could reach, bringing little whimpers out of you. The one thing he didn’t touch was your clit, which was begging for attention.

How long would he tease you?

“Andy, please,” you whispered, almost shifting in his lap in the hopes to get some relief.

“Almost done, honey,” he assured you, drawing a soft cry from you when he suddenly thrust his hips up. “You need me to fuck you, is that it? Can’t wait until I’m finished eating the dessert you made just for me?”

His finger brushed your clit only once and it was almost enough to hurdle you over the edge. Each touch, every lavishness of his attention, was pure ecstasy. “I-I want to make you feel good.”

“Honey, this is making me feel good,” he said, rocking his hips again as your chest heaved. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew his gaze was hungry. “Watching you like this, letting me touch you, praise you. Don’t you feel how fucking hard I am?”

“I do,” you exhaled. You felt every inch of him along your sensitive walls. “Feels good.”

He kissed your cheek, the scent of cinnamon filling your nostrils. “You feel good. So wet and tight and it’s all for me. So fucking lucky to come home to you. Love you so much, honey.”

The fabric of his tie felt damp and you realized it was your sudden tears causing that. Between his words and how sensitive your body felt, it was a lot in a good way. “I love you, too,” you whispered once you took a breath.

He dragged his mouth to your ear as he brought his finger back to your clit, rubbing gently as you both groaned. “You want me to feel even better? Show me how good I make you feel. Drench me and I’ll fuck you with my cock and tongue.”

“Please, please, please,” you begged, gripping his arms in an almost bruising hold, determined to give him what he demanded.

“Come.”

That was your undoing, the tide washing you away as you drenched him the way he demanded. He quieted your cries with his mouth, swallowing them down for himself. You whined as he stopped rubbing your clit, the spasms from your walls still strong as he whispered how much he loved you.

You loved him, too.

“Beautiful,” he commented as you came down, allowing you to collapse against him as you caught your breath. His heart raced against your chest, almost as fast as yours beat. Pleasuring you pleased him and you wondered how you hit the jackpot with him.

“The pumpkin was good,” he began, running a hand up and down your back. “But I think I prefer the apple pie. It’s sweet, like you.”

You laughed breathlessly, making your walls spasm a bit around him. “Noted,” you said, reaching for the blindfold.

He stopped you before you could remove it. “Leave it on. I’m not done worshiping you yet,” he said, shocking you by tracing a bit of whipped cream on your lips. “And if you want my cream, you'll behave.”

He deserves the world! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[fortunapre]

𝐀/𝐍𖧞 oh my gosh??!? an update that’s semi on time?!? anyways enjoy tbis because it sure gets interesting… and someone pls give me another word for “skimpy” that’s not derogatory 🤓

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𖧞 16+ (series rating and swearing), sister mention, alcohol, wlw mention, use on y/n

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𖧞 oscar piastri x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𖧞 (scene vi) 3.2k

Go back?? (scene v) Click Here!

𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐬 𖧞 scene vi 𖧞 (𝐒𝐞𝐭 𝐈𝐭 𝐔𝐩)

try telling me someone didn’t read winter affairs and immediately type this up 👇🔽

Monday, December 17th

You know what they say: “Don’t talk to strangers. Don’t accept rides from strangers. Never tell a man that you’re interested in Formula One.”

Because if you do, you could end up in a most unwanted dilemma like death or, you know, being asked “Oh yeah? Name the 2009 WDC?”

Both are equally horrible.

However, less than four hours ago, my sister and I did exactly what we were told not to do.

Not tell a man about F1, God that’d be horrible, of course not!

No, we met some strangers downtown while shopping this afternoon, and let them drive us to a party.

Four Hours Earlier…

My sister and I decided to go back downtown in search of fresh baked wintertime desserts to take back to the family for lunch. We walked into a cozy bakery where pottery and art lined the walls.

“This place looks promising.” I wished, walking towards the front of the store in search of the baked goods. In clear cases were delicious looking cakes, tarts, and pastries- Jackpot.

I pointed at the largest desert there, a tall cherry tart.

My sister nodded her head and also pointed to another sweet that had caught her eye. We silently agreed on the items and looked away from the case, trying to find someone to help us. The store had only a few customers, and one lady standing in line at a cash register, but no cashier.

“How long have you been standing here? Is there someone working?” I asked the lady, whose hands were filled with a dark blue vase that looked hand crafted, probably from one of the shelves in here.

“Not long, actually.” She replied, looking towards a door to our left. “The young man who was helping me earlier will be right back, he’s just grabbing something for me, sorry.” She looked around my mothers age but with lighter features. While talking to us she attempted to point towards the door, but her grip on the vase only let one finger slightly move. She tried to free her hand to show us exactly, but the vase began slipping. I moved my hands quickly, positioning them under, so that if it were to fall I could catch it.

“Woah careful, Mrs. Petersen.” A voice said from our left. Out from the door emerged a young man, around our age, with an apron and beaming smile. “Don’t let that slip, you're making the poor girl stressed.”

He was acknowledging that I still had my hands in the same position, worried the fragile pottery might slip again. I noticed the woman, I now knew as Mrs. Petersen, had a better grip, so I retracted my hands quickly and shoved them into my pockets.

The young man, who I assumed worked here, had a small box in his hand and walked towards the cash register.

He spoke to Mrs. Petersen with a kind smile before helping wrap her vase and sending her out the door. After he finished helping her, he turned to us with an expectant look.

“You two lookin’ at something specific?” He asked motioning towards the case of goodies my sister and I were marveling at, moments before.

“Yes actually. Could we get the whole cherry tart and a pack of those apple crumb bars, please?” I answered, pointing as I talked.

He just nodded and carefully picked both desserts for us, boxing them, bagging them, and ringing us up.

As I was paying, I noticed him looking at us with interest. I tried not to make eye contact with him, suddenly not wanting his attention.

My sister, however, met his gaze more than once, no doubt checking him out.

“Hey, so wait…” He spoke as we started walking away.

We both turned, waiting for him to speak.

“You two… wouldn’t be interested in a party tonight, would you?” He finally said.

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. Of course not, why would we want to go to a random part-

“Oooh, sounds fun! We’ll totally be there!” My sister answered for the both of us. I tried to pinch her elbow to get her to look at me, but she kept her eyes on the guy.

“Oh, no way, alright. Well let me pull up the information..” he trailed off while digging in his pocket for his phone. “Hold on, I left my phone in the back but I’ll get it for you. Just a sec.” He disappeared behind the door, like earlier. As soon as he was out of sight, I turned towards my sister.

“What?! There’s no way I am going to a strangers party.” I whispered through my teeth, looking around at the other customers, hoping not to cause a scene.

“Y/n, yes you are. We need to do something fun outside of the cabin. We can only add so many new rules to Uno before it gets boring.”

“What? I thought you liked Go-Fish-Charades-No-Takesy-Backsey-Uno?”

“I did! But now it’s lame and a party is just what we neeedddd.” She pouted her lips and looked like she desperately wanted this. I immediately caved and shrugged my shoulders looking away. “Look, how about this?” My sister began, trying to make me feel better. “We’ll bring our brother and Oscar.”

She let a smirk show at her idea.

“I already agreed. Oscar doesn’t have to come.” I fought.

“Ok, even if you agreed, I think Oscar should still come. He’s fun at parties.” She tried. “Come onnnnnnn. Just let loose for one night”

I looked at her, saw the look in her eyes, and walked away before I kept agreeing to whatever she said. Sometimes it’s hard to disagree when she looks so deeply, like she really cares about you. So before I agreed to wearing frisky outfits and dancing on a table, I got away.

From behind me, I heard the young man approach my sister and give her the details for tonight.

Maybe a night out could be good, we’ll see.

Now…

My eyes are drooping, closing for seconds of relief, and then opening again. Everytime I blink, the comfortable silence fills my brain and I could almost drift to sleep standing right here. I can feel my mouth getting dry and my eyes burning with the need to shut. However tempting sleep may be, I need to stay awake.

I’m basically swaying in my spot, desperate to topple over and cuddle on the floor. The hold I have on the drink in my hand Is all that my brain is working on. My mind is fuzzy with however many cups of this ‘magic jingle juice,’ as the party host called it. Anyone in this room could look at me and think “Man, she’s wasted.” But, really, I’m staying quiet and having trouble standing upright because of how exhausted I am. Sure, I drank someeeee but I can easily say the worst I am, is a little tipsy. I shut my eyes tight, to stop the burning. Once I tried opening my eyes again, a squint was all I could hold.

What time is it? Is she ready to go home yet? I started thinking about how we even got her in the first place: some strangers' Christmas party.

People around me were laughing and swaying. Some were in costumes, but most of the people looked like they only came for the alcohol, dressed in casual clothing. At one point, I think I saw some women in matching skimpy reindeer costumes. Hope they’re having fun. I hope my siblings are having fun too.

If they’re not, and this was just a waste of time, I might strangle them.

After a nap. I don’t think I could lift my arms if I tried.

Home, Nap, Strangle. Ok, good plan.

Suddenly, sleepiness drained from my face as I caught sight of something interesting happening near a couch in the center of the room.

As I walked over, my interest piqued. I recognized my brother and sister, sitting on the floor, and a face I haven’t seen since the beginning of the party- Oscar.

He was sitting two people away from my sister in what looked like a circle. Everyone was talking and sipping on their drinks. However, what caught my eye in the first place was a girl standing in the middle of the people-circle. She was wearing a bright red dress that fit her nicely, and a santa hat on top of her curled hair. In her hands was another Santa hat. She held it upside down and open, walking around the circle. I was confused, because instead of collecting pieces of paper, or trash, people were dropping personal items in the hat. I watched as my sister put in her bracelet.

I made eye contact with her as the Santa girl walked away. Her eyes widened and she smiled a goofy grin. She looked sober at least.

I tilted my head, making a show that I was confused at what was going on. She just smiled and watched the Santa girl turn towards my brother.

He took a look around the circle of people and then back to the girl. He then took off a ring and dropped it into the hat.

I was even more confused, why are they giving her their jewelry?

I walked over after throwing away my drink. I crouched down next to my sister on the ground and got close to talk to her.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

She let out a quiet giggle while whispering close to my ear. “Oh! Good timing, we haven’t started yet, you can still join.”

Before I could ask for more information, my sister grabbed my wrist and slipped off a beaded bracelet I was wearing. She motioned the Santa girl over and put my bracelet in the hat. The santa girl gave a look to my sister then to me, nodding like she approved.

“Hey! I liked that bracelet, why would you just-” I got a little annoyed. Instead of taking me seriously, my sister tugged on my arm again, making me plop onto the floor in between her and my brother.

“Relax, you’ll get it back at the end, or if you get chosen.” She tried to assure me, but my mind was just whirling with questions.

“If im CHOSen? What is this, a cult initiation?”

“Oh my god, Y/n, no it's just a party game. Apparently it’s a local game they play here every year.” She didn’t elaborate until I quirked a brow and shook my head.

“Which is…..?” I asked.

“Oh, I have no idea. I just wanted to do something and this seemed like fun. Plus I got Oscar and our brother to join so it should be fine.”

I was bewildered at this information. I looked away from my sister to the other side of me. My brother looked relaxed and met my gaze. He just shrugged his shoulders and took a sip of his drink, seemingly unbothered. I scoffed and looked around the room. looking for a clue to what I was getting myself into.

My gaze latched on to the Santa girl, holding her hat in front of Oscar. He looked at her, confused. Then I’m guessing she started to explain to him what was going on. From where I was, I couldn't hear anything but saw her lips moving quickly and her point around the circle of people. Once she finished talking, Oscar’s face turned to one of shock, his brows shooting up. He stayed frozen before he nodded and looked down to his cup.

In less than a second he downed the rest of its contents.

When the Santa girl shook the hat in front of him, it made a sound of metals clinging together, no doubt filled with random belongings. I'm guessing she was asking for him to give up an offering or sacrifice a personal item, for whatever reason it was necessary to this ‘game.’ Oscar nodded to the girl and started taking off his watch. He undid the metal band quickly and dropped it into the hat.

As soon as the girl walked away, Oscar’s eyes darted to me. I was already watching the encounter so we made eye contact. Instead of looking away, he kept looking. I don’t know what he was looking for but his gaze made me start to feel achingly sober.

I was one of the many people dressed in casual clothes, not bothering to go all out for a stranger’s party. As I looked away from Oscar's piercing gaze; my eyes traveled away and down his attire. He was wearing a white tee-shirt (one that actually fits him). A tee shirt shouldn’t be anything special, but something’s wrong with my mind tonight. Maybe it’s the alcohol.

I traced down his body to the nice-fitting dark jeans he was wearing. Then back up to the shirt. He was looking away from me now, talking to my brother. As he used his hands while he talked, I watched his form- more specifically his arms. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. When did he get so…

Yep. Definitely the alcohol.

Santa-girl stepped back into the circle, breaking my thoughts and bringing everyone’s attention to her.

“Alright!” She had an annoyingly cheery voice. “Let’s get started. To those who don’t know, we’re playing 7 minutes in heaven.”

Oh my god.

My sister didn’t know what 7 MINUTES IN HEAVEN was?

I looked around trying to find away out of the game, but people had already gathered around and It’d be embarrassing to leave.

“What kind of party is this?” I asked my sister. “A middle schooler’s dream experience surely.”

“I agree… But it’s either this or a monopoly with the skimpy reindeer over there.” She used a thumb to point to behind her where some skimpy reindeer were in fact, playing monopoly.

I rubbed a hand down my face and huffed.

Who doesn’t know what 7 minutes in heaven is!?

Santa-girl was, I'm guessing, the host of this childish game, walking around the circle. She stopped in front of my sister, to my surprise and held the hat in front of her.

“Oh and I hear you three are siblings, so either throw their item back in the hat or give it to somebody else.” She added on with a smile and held open the hat to my sister.

Slowly, with anxious eyes, she stuck her hand in her hand and dug around. She carefully took out her hand, a sparkly pink lipgloss in her grip. She turned towards me quickly, and smirked, obviously interested. She held up the item proudly and waited for someone to claim it.

In seconds, my sister sat up and walked with someone to a room with a candy cane taped to the door. Everybody clapped as they left.

“There’s the first couple!” The santa girl clapped her hands together, then went on her phone, supposedly waiting for their time to be up. I talked to my brother for 7 minutes, trying to guess how my sister will be once she walks out.

To neither of our surprise, she walked out a mess, matching the lucky lady next to her. She didn’t bother fixing her makeup or hair, wearing a big grin. I laughed at her appearance as she quickly sat back down next to me.

A couple more rounds passed, and I was yet to have been picked. My brother went in with a girl earlier and came back with what I swear was the dictionary definition of “awestruck.”

Oscar’s also been chosen. The girl that grabbed his watch looked way too eager to get him alone. The whole time they were gone my mind was reeling. When they came out the girl had the same expression but neither of them looked messed up like my sister had.

I felt something deep inside me that sort of felt like relief.

Santa-girl walked around the circle. Other than me there were a few others, so I was praying she chose one of them, and not me. She was about to walk to a guy next to me, but all of a sudden, my sister grabbed her arm and lightly steered her back, In my direction.

“Here you are…” My sister whispered to me.

I cleared my throat and tried to laugh to ease the stress building in my throat.

Now that she stood in front of me with an eager look that matched the rest of the room’s stares, I panicked. I sat still until my sister spoke up.

“Y/n, you don’t have to, i just thought you wa-” My sister tried.

“I DO!” I shot back, a little too quickly. “I mean,” I cleared my throat and spoke quieter. “I’ll do it, I'm fine.”

But even after announcing i’d do it, my hands didnt move towards the hat.

My sister looked at me, like she was making a decision, and then asked me quietly, so only I could hear her.

“How ‘bout this? I’ll pick for you.”

“Yeah, umm. Sure yeah you pick for me.” The santa girl heard my reply and nodded in approval, she turned the hat towards my left and my sister immediately dove in.

She dug in the hat for a bit. It must have been 30 seconds before she stopped digging. Her hand was still in the hat, and she turned to me with the biggest smile I’d seen tonight.

To my horror, she pulled out a familiar looking item, shining in the firelight.

“Ah.” She held it up to the circle with confidence and then turned to drop in in my hand. I looked down at the silver watchface, taunting me.

She’d picked Oscar’s watch for me, and I know she’d been purposely looking for it too.

I looked at her again, then when she didn't say anything but smile, I closed my eyes tight again. I took a deep breath out of annoyance and stood up. Everyone’s eyes watched my stand and held out the watch.

I didn’t need to wait for anyone to claim it. Instead I looked straight at Oscar. He was already looking at me, his eyes were dark and trained on my own.

From the side of me, I heard someone ask my brother “no way, do they have, like, tension or something?” the person wasn’t’t being as quiet as they thought they were.

My brother replied “apparently…”

My sister joined in the conversation. “Tension? These two have had tension since elementary school.”

“Ooh childhood romance.” the stranger acknowledged.

���More like childhood rivals.” My brother whispered. I didn’t turn to them to show I heard their entire conversation, and instead kept looking at Oscar.

He moved his legs to stand and wiped down his pants, smoothing the ripples from sitting.

Instead of looking back at me, he beelined for the candy cane room, not bothering to turn and see if I was following…

NEXT PART HERE!!!!!!!!!! ASHDJFJSNJDKDNDJDNDNDJDNDJF WOOOOOOOOOOOOO CLICK HEREEE!

[mothertaeraesa]

zb1 as summer activities

pairing: ot9 x gender neutral reader

genre: blurb format, nonidol verse, summer au, fluff

warnings: slightly suggestive in matthew's, yujin's can be read as platonic or romantic

word count: 1.5k

kim jiwoong | camping

The smell of smoke and wood wafts to your nose, as you peek your head up from the top of the hammock that’s attached to two red maples. You watch Jiwoong silently while he chops a few more pieces of wood before tossing them on top of the roaring flames from the fire pit. Discarded pans and dishes are off to the side from the filling dinner of meat and ramen that your boyfriend had so generously prepared all by himself. You had insisted on helping him cook and clean, but Jiwoong, ever the gentleman, made sure you didn't lift a finger at all this trip and had done everything himself. "Woongie," you call faintly. "Yes, my love?" Jiwoong pauses his movements and gives you his full attention with a smile. "Come cuddle with me and then let's make s'mores?" The man drops everything and hurries over to you, nearly toppling on top of you before planting a kiss to the crown of your head. "Anything for you."

zhang hao | pool party

"Marco!" Sounds of "polo" are shouted back in various pitches and noise levels, as you and your friends splash around in the water. Blue skies bleed into hues of oranges and pinks while you all have spent the whole day getting wrinkly in Ricky's pool. Feeling thirsty from all the games, you slip out and grab your towel, drying off before sitting on the edge while sipping your cold drink from the cooler. You watch Taerae get attacked by a closed-eyed Matthew as a finger taps your thigh. Hao stands waist-deep in front of you with his mouth open, making indistinguishable noises, but you catch onto what he wants. Pouring the rest of the drink in his mouth, you discard the can to the side before leaning down to plant a peck on the man's lips. The drink lingers with the faintest taste of chlorine, but it's only a momentary thought, as Hao's laugh fills the air while he suddenly tugs you by the hand back into the water.

sung hanbin | blueberry picking

It’s sunny and swelteringly hot outside. Sweat drips down your forehead, and you can’t help but wipe it with the back of your hand in slight disgust. You wonder how you ended up here, a somewhat crowded blueberry patch during such a humid summer day. But then you glance over across the bush at Hanbin who has a wide and excited grin on his face. “Look at this one!” He exclaims excitedly, holding up a big, ripe blue one for you to see. You nod at him, an enamored look in your eyes. You guess that you could deal with the bugs and uncomfortable stickiness on your skin if it means seeing Hanbin happy like a kid in a candy store. You both fill up two large buckets with the sweet berry and take them home, making blueberry pie, muffins, tarts, and jam.

seok matthew | carnivals

The bright lights from the tents down below look like twinkling stars from up above, as you, Matthew, and the giant stuffed bear that he had won squish into the ferris wheel cart. You eagerly point out all the places you both had been that night when you get a better view, and Matthew watches you adoringly with a smile. When you're finally at the top, he snakes an arm around your waist before leaning in for a long kiss. "You know about the rumors?" He murmurs quietly against your lips, eyes locked onto yours. Heat rises to your cheeks at the close proximity as you shake your head silently. "They say that if you kiss on top of the ferris wheel, your relationship will last forever." The man goes in for another, taking his sweet time before peppering delicate kisses across your jaw until his lips linger by the shell of your ear. "I guess that means you're mine for eternity."

kim taerae | farmer's market

You and Taerae walk hand in hand through the rows upon rows of stalls selling everything from freshly baked goods to blooming flowers. A loaf of sourdough, ruby red apples, prosciutto, some cheese, and a blanket sit in your tote bag on Taerae's shoulder for the picnic that was planned for later. The two of you had made it a habit to wake up early on Sundays to take a walk, go to your favorite cafe for brunch, and then head over to the weekly farmer's market. There was something domestic about the little routine you both had fallen into, and you definitely didn't mind the quiet coos that grannys would offer on the street about how much of an adorable couple you two were. Taerae suddenly stops in front of a booth selling mason jars of wildflowers and instantly hands the owner some cash, insisting you pick out your favorite with a kiss to your temple.

shen ricky | beach day

The sound of waves crashing against the sand are like white noise in your ears, as you lay out under the beating sun. Your skin feels warm from spending the afternoon outside, but you sense a presence and jump a little at the cold drops that fall onto you. “You gonna come in the water?” Ricky asks while a hand runs through his hair, more droplets hitting you as he shakes his head like a wet dog. “Maybe in a little bit,” you reply, taking in the sight of the blonde boy before you. a thin silver chain falls down the slope of his neck and rests just above his bare chest. His swim trunks fit him well and are in a light rose shade that he had boughten after you had offhandedly mentioned that you thought he looked good in the color. “Like what you see?” There’s a slightly smug tone in his voice as he catches you staring. “You look nice.” In one swift motion, Ricky picks you up and throws you over his shoulder with ease, moving towards the water and threatening to drop you in unless you give him a better compliment than just “nice.”

kim gyuvin | dog walking

"Buttercup, please don't bite eumpappa's ear!" You hear your boyfriend's voice before you see him, but the sight before you causes Gyuvin to whine as you nearly double over in tears. "Babe, how did this happen?" The brunette gives a sheepish smile, tips of his ears red, while you help untangle him from the many dog leashes wrapped around him. Gyuvin had decided to take up dog walking as a summer side job to make some extra money to take you out on dates. He had thought it was a brilliant idea considering that he already walked eumpappa, so what were a few more pups? Well, a few more soon turned into five which then turned into eight, and although Gyuvin was too prideful at first to ask for your help, you eventually got the call to meet him outside of his apartment complex with the promise of ice cream in return. You supposed it all worked out in the end, as you got to spend time with cute puppies and your even cuter boyfriend.

park gunwook | camp counselors

Gunwook throws a glance over at you once and a while, finding it cute how your face scrunches up in concentration as you make your bead bracelet. Originally, the boy had come over to sit next to you, but you had banished him to the other side of the arts and crafts hall, declaring that he wasn’t allowed to peek at what you were going to work on. So here Gunwook was, pouty and a bit sulky, as he waited patiently for you to finish whatever you were doing so he could spend some time with you. The second he sees you snipping the thin string with scissors, he rushes over like an eager puppy. “Here, I made this for you.” Taking his large hand in yours, you slip the bracelet that adorns your name onto his wrist. Before you can say anything else, Gunwook repeats the action, wordlessly giving you the one he had made too. You peak at the letters with a smile. Gunwook.

han yujin | lemonade stands

"Yujin, aren't you a little too old to run a lemonade stand?" Slowly pulling your sunglasses down and peering over them, you stare a bit incredulously at the boy sitting in the children's chair that's clearly too small for him. "I-I'm just helping out my cousin..." He manages to stutter in a bit of embarrassment, rubbing the nape of his neck and avoiding eye contact. You readjust your sunglasses and notice the little girl coming back out of the house with a plastic pitcher filled to the brim with the citrusy drink. "I'll take three." You say suddenly, pulling out the proper amount and handing it to Yujin, as he snaps out of his daze. The little girl perks up at the influx of business, eagerly pouring three cups. You leave a generous tip in the plastic jar and hand her one of the cups before taking a seat in the grass of the lawn beside Yujin. Sipping on the cool liquid, you extend the extra cup to him with a smile.

[lou-struck]

The Perfect One

Shinsuke Kita x reader

~You visit Kita at his Farmers Market booth and realize that he has closed up early to run an important errand.

WC: 1.6k

The market hasn’t even been open for thirty minutes, but already the streets are packed full of cars; your eyes scan the packed street, searching for even the tightest parking spot.

Today you plan to surprise your boyfriend at his farmer’s market stand, give him some much-needed quality time, and take him out for a lunch date after he closes up shop, Which, according to your calculations, should be selling out in an hour or so…

Shinsuke Kita’s Rice stand is one of the most popular booths due to the high quality of his product and the fact that most vendors and patrons have fallen head over heels for the handsome rice farmer.

And how could they not?

Shinsuke’s honest charm and hardworking demeanor are enough to make anyone fall in love with him. But out of everyone, he chooses to be with you because he loves you just as much as you love him.

And this silly feeling called love is what compelled you to wake up early on a Saturday morning fueled with nothing but the promise of a large cup of coffee and some freshly baked scones with raspberry jelly once you find him.

Your car creeps through the street at a snail’s pace as you spot a light blue truck pulling out from a parking spot on the corner. As you approach, you notice that it looks like a tight fit, but you squeeze into it the best you can. Pulling forward, you hear the overly dramatic sound of your front bumper hitting the curb, but as you reverse slightly and put the car in the park, you shake it off, slipping out of the driver’s seat and onto the pavement. 

Rays of sun hit your skin through the layer of cloudy overcast as you walk, making the short trip to the center of the market rather pleasant as you pass people carrying baskets overflowing with fresh produce, baked goods, handcrafted soaps, and other goods.

Stands to sparkle with racks of handmade jewelry and blown glass trinkets that vie for your attention as you walk; if you haven’t been here before, you would’ve lost yourself amongst the crowd, but luckily, you know your way around fairly well by now.

As you get closer to your boyfriend’s usual spot, a few produce vendors you recognize from the weeks before. Despite the many customers at their stalls, they still give you a friendly wave as you walk; off in the distance, you see the edge of the hand-painted sign outside of Shinsuke’s booth, the sign the two of your painted together months ago. 

Memories of that wine-stained night bring a giddy smile to your chapstick lips as you quicken your pace, springing over a spilled cone of shaved ice that someone must’ve just dropped. 

You creep slowly around the corner, ready to scare. Instead of his soft smile and strong form, behind the register rests a generic sign.

Be back in 30 minutes…

That’s strange; even with his cashbox secured, Kita would never just leave his booth unattended for such a long time. You can’t help but wonder where he has gone.

Is he not feeling well?

Is he in the bathroom?

Whatever the answer may be, you choose to go sit at his stall to watch it until he gets back. You would hate for someone to try and steal things from him.

The next stand over, a friendly older woman peeks out from behind a massive pile of unshucked corn on the cob and gives you the warmest smile you have received all week. She is a longtime friend of Kita’s grandmother and almost always slips you one of her homemade apple tarts. Her floppy sun hat protects her lovingly aged skin from the harsh rays of the overcast sky. 

“Oh, hello, My Dear,” she calls in her soft voice. “What brings you to the market so early?” 

“Good morning,” you smile, watching fondly as her little leopard-printed cane carries her closer to you. I came to surprise Shinsuke, but it seems he went off somewhere.”

“Oh, don’t worry about him, Dear; he’ll be right back.” she laughs. There is a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she looks at you. “But I told that sweet boy I would watch his stall.”

“An errand?” you ask. “Is he feeling alright? It is so unlike him to just leave the stall”.

She just smiles knowingly. “He is just fine dear, but if you would like to check on him, head to the stalls near the main street while I hold down the fort.”

“Oh, thank you so much,” you smile. “I’ll head over there now.” With a final wave, you turn the corner and leave the stall in her capable hands.

It’s only a quick walk to the main street, but the cluster of booths is different from the usual produce stalls you are familiar with. It only takes a little sniff of the fresh air to figure out that Main Street is where all the flower vendors set up shop to sell their wonderfully constructed bouquets of flowers. Sunflowers, lilts, Peonies, and Daisies galore in every color you can think of rest in large buckets of water reaching upwards toward the light.

You wander past each stall, enchanted by the sweet smells and vibrant petals, until you hear a familiar voice speaking to one of the vendors.

“Thank you for taking the time to help me out with this. All of these are breathtaking, but I want to find the right one.” Your boyfriend says, aching down and smelling a large pink Lilly.

“Is there a particular combination you are looking for?” the vendor says, a light pink blush on their cheeks, no doubt having fallen victim to his natural charm.

“Not a combination in general; I just want a Bouquet that looks like them.” he hums, placing his hand under his chin in thought.

The vendor turns their head to the side. “How so?”

“The peonies with the iris are so fun and vibrant, just like Y/n, but then the Tulips with eucalyptus, baby’s breath, and Callalilles look so elegant and beautiful it makes me wonder if they could see themselves in those as well.”

“Young man, if everyone put as much thought into a bouquet of flowers as you did, the would be a much better place,” they say honestly. “I am sure whatever one you choose, your partner will love, especially with you being such a romantic.”

“I don’t know if I would consider myself a romantic; I just want y/n to have a nice bouquet of flowers today,” he says simply. Even though he has his back to you, you see the way the back of his neck flushes at the vendor’s words. 

Is he really putting all this thought into a bouquet for you? 

A part of you feels guilty for eavesdropping on him, but really, your heart is fluttering out of control at such a romantic gesture. You turn your back and dart quickly behind a tent that shields you from his view. 

Just as you think you are in the clear, you hear a pleasant voice call out from behind out. “It looks like you caught me.” Your breath hitches; Kita has always been too good at picking up those little details, especially when it comes to you.

“I-i’m sorry,’ you stammer, turning around to face him, “I just wanted to surprise you, and I ended up ruining yours.”

His coffee-colored gaze softens as he takes in every inch of your flustered features as if they were a work of art. “You didn’t ruin anything, quite the opposite, actually.”

You blink as you take in his words; how exactly is you ruining his floral surprise a good thing?

“How so?”

He chuckles to himself, “Because now we can pick out the flowers together.” He says it so simply as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Your knees feel weak as he continues, “I want to know what you like so that I can surprise you in the future. You deserve a life full of happy surprises.”

Boom, there goes your heart, and blood rushes to your cheeks so quickly that your hands fly to cover your face from the world.

“Flustered, are we?” he laughs softly, removing your hands from your face and tilting up your chin with the utmost care. 

Playfully you stick your tongue out at him with an endearing boldness, “Sometimes I think you’re too good at this. Is there someone else you practice on?”

He rolls his eyes as a characteristic snort escapes his lips. “Only you, My Love. Do I need to prove it to you?”

“Absolutely,” you tease, letting your gaze fall from his sparkling eyes and onto his soft lips. They curve upward knowingly before they meet yours in a tender kiss. He holds you gently as if you are one of the many flowers in the surrounding booths. 

You’re breathless, but you want more; Kita’s touch, combined with the sweet floral fragrance, is dizzying and makes you forget about the hundreds of people passing by on the other side of the tented wall. 

He pulls away with a tenderness that makes you feel like you are falling in love over and over again. The sweetest look in his eyes as he guides you back towards the flower stalls and the rows and rows of bouquets, so that the two of you can pick out the perfect one together.

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

[radioactive-earthshine]

[thelustdevil]

Fueling those café au’s in my head... Part 2!

This time let’s look at what baked goods they would enjoy. 🫶🏼 (based on what I offer in shop & some new ideas!)

Part One: Drinkies!

Hitoshi S.

Will buy the cute seasonal sugar cookies, especially the cat themed ones during the spring & fall. Otherwise a blueberry muffin will suffice. If he’s really hungry a baked cheese & plant “sausage” turnover.

Denki K.

Frosted muffins, loaves & scones. The frosted matcha & vanilla crème Swiss roll is a favorite of his. But the frosted strawberry scone is a good second choice. Will be the one to order a breakfast bagel when super hungry.

Katsuki B.

He enjoys spice over sweet that much is true. He’s not one to order baked goods often, but there’s a hatch chili bread released during the later fall season that he will buy a slice or two of. If not, a savory maple sausage pull-apart roll every once in a while never hurt.

Izuku M.

Flaky pastries!! Always always. Chocolate croissant? Yes. Spinach feta croissant? Also yes. Spiced ham & pepper Jack cheese blossom? … yes. Quiches with buttery crust. Biggest yes. It’s used in so many dishes and so yummy in his opinion.

Shoto T.

Plain/simple flaky pastry or biscuit. Usually something to go along with his tea. There’s an orange blossom and currant biscotti that he’s grown fond of thanks to midoriya’s suggestion. Will have some quiche if offered. Not the meat heavy ones though.

Eijirou K.

Sweet boy loves some sweet loaf slices. He will indulge in pumpkin spice during the season. Otherwise the spiced loaf or apple crumble loaf are great choices. Will get the warm breakfast sandwiches on fresh bread.

Hanta S.

Contrast to his drinks and similar to bakugo, Sero likes the more savory pastries. The rosemary & tomato tart is the perfect snack. While the chili, egg & spinach blossom is a good breakfast option in his eyes.

Tenya I.

Cinnamon roll, no raisins but yes to cream cheese icing. Only once in a blue moon though. He allows himself to enjoy this with his classmates. Otherwise a buttery croissant will do, there’s no need for the excess sugar all the time.

Dabi

Again this mf doesn’t go to coffee shops… Will take warm bread, he likes the softness of it when it’s freshly baked. The topped toast options are usually what he goes for. The special spices Ogura jam with everything bagel seasoning is a go to.

Hawks

Learned to like the Ogura jam pastries because of Dabi. Will get the baked Ogura & sea salt stuffed rolls. There’s also a seaweed flakes croissant he enjoys with a sweet plum jam.

Mirio T.

Loves to try just the most American sounding baked goods. Apple strudel with cinnamon, strawberry & rhuebarb blossoms, Canadian bacon and cheddar boomerang? All yeses! Tamaki has told him countless times that two of those things are decidedly not American but Mirio is too busy ordering to hear him.

Tamaki A.

Is less shy when it comes to ordering pastries from his favorite bakery. Enjoys trying the new seasonal items. The sweet Sakura dango was a big hit with him. Will also get the milk bread toasted with a semi-runny egg & chives on top.

Shota A.

A bagel. He enjoys trying to different toppings but prefers having something easy to eat between classes and napping. Open to trying different kinds of bagels as well. Hizashi once bought him a breakfast bar and he enjoyed it. Still gets bagels though.

Hizashi Y.

Much like Tamaki, Hizashi likes trying the seasonal pastries. It only makes sense if he’s trying the seasonal drinks too! It’s the full experience. The toasted coconut & pineapple loaf was a surprising new favorite. So was the miso & cucumber tea sandwich.

*based on my view of them & their personalities*

Might do this for JJK or another fandom next. This has also given me new ideas for some trial goods in the bakery next week…

[dragonprincedawn]

OC Signature Dishes

A small writing exercise inspired by Genshin's Specialty Dishes; What is this character's signature dish? If they were asked to bring something to a potluck, or make a last-minute dinner for a dear friend, what's the food they would default to? The goal is to describe the flavor and texture of the dish while at the same time revealing just a bit of the character's personality.

I had a lot of fun writing these, so hopefully I'll have more soon ^^

Azael - "Special Occasion" (Honeyed Apple Tart with Peanut Butter)

A dessert specifically reserved for special occasions and jobs well done. Only the fullest, most vibrant red apples in the orchard were finely sliced and layered upon the flaky pastry with precision and care. The roasted nuttiness of the peanut base softens the tartness of the apple, and the finishing touch is a drizzle of wildflower honey with dash of sugar. Being a stranger to the kitchen, Azael had to commit a great deal of time towards putting together this deceptively simple dish. Seeing you smile as you lick honey off your fingers is their hard-earned reward.

Lyerei - Auroral Sweet Ice (Rainbow Shaved Ice)

With a whispered incantation and a simple Prestidigitation spell, a cup of mountain spring water turns into a colorful treat in the blink of an eye! The refreshingly cool flakes of ice melt onto your tongue, simulating a medley of sweet berries and other fruits. The only colors Lyerei adds are a vivid red, a deep blue, and a bright yellow. These three simple hues, when swirled together, create all the colors of the Light Bearer clan's aurora in their center.

Sota - Post Workout Pick-Me-Up (Four Seed Bread Rolls)

Fluffy, buttery bread rolls with a golden crust, cut in two and slathered with tart cherry compote. Portable and nutritious, they're the perfect snack for when you have a busy day ahead. Each family in the Blackcliff Roost has their own recipe for baking bread, and so each loaf tastes just a bit different from the one next door. But there's a particular detail that sets Sota's recipe apart from all the others - the sprinkle of sesame, flax, poppy, and sunflower seeds added just before baking that give the crisp crust a subtle, nutty flavor.

Elgimn - "Surprise Me" (Seafood Rice Balls seeped in Green Tea)

One must be extraordinarily patient to allow the fluffy rice grains to seep in green tea until they are infused with a bitingly bitter taste. But the light aroma of the rice mixed with fresh crab meat leaves a sweet aftertaste lingering on the tongue. It seems even the most battle-worn warlords cannot resist indulging in life's simple delights every once in a while...

Thank you for reading! 💙

[refabled]

things your muse will notice about mine.

what they look like. small, at first glance. at second glance, stronger than you expect. firmer. less likely to blow away with the wind, and yet, there's something soft and something sad about her. there's weariness there, a bone-heavy weight on her shoulders, and still she smiles. there's something naturalistic and elegant about her, but not elegant in a way that's taught, elegant in the way the branches of a tree can stretch up like a ballerina's arms. she walks doe-footed. light, with growing sureness. but it's her eyes that are unforgettable, one a pale blue, the other swallowed by blackness. still, fable has princess eyes, big and wide and helplessly sincere.

what they smell like. wildflowers. something floral, but light. cotton, maybe? and rain and earth. sometimes, fur and leaves. sometimes, mint and lavender. foxgloves, maybe? or no, daisies. something simple and recognizable. bedsheets and home, and sometimes, flour and bread when she's baking.

what they taste like. what tastes warm? it's warmth, you taste. with a hint of something sweeter. maple syrup, then. sugary, but real. kissing her is like biting into an apple: crisp, and tart, and a little sweet. her blood, for those inclined to take a taste, is bright and refreshing, with a hint of the flavor of cinnamon and honey.

what they sound like. a distinct lack of posturing. she speaks with soft, rounded vowels; there's almost always a laugh hidden under her words. or maybe something closer to delight, usually. her silence is never overbearing, while her anger, rare as it is, is like a bow drawn taut, and overflowing with grief. in anger, her voice shudders. in lust, her voice is a whisper, quietly rasping. in the morning, her voice is a drowsy, soporific murmur.

what they feel like. surprisingly solid; there's strength under that plush flesh, firm muscle. she is as a tree, setting roots wherever she goes, and she will not be so easily bowed over. the slopes of her shoulders are dusted in too-soft fur, tapering off again into smooth, freckled skin. her presence is reassuring, her hugs are tight, and her palms are always, always tender.

tagged : I don't even remember where I got this, homie tagging : @vampiyrus @duskheir @selunight @enrhysmion @shemurder @solomage @dwylafn @oathwilled and anyone else who sees this!!

[m34gs]

Twisted Wonderland ask: If every dorm ran a bakery what would their Signature Baked Item(TM) be and why? Please be specific to the item (ie: can't say "chocolate cake").

Hi friend! What a lovely ask, thank you! I am looking forward to answering 💜

Heartslaybul - I think Heartslaybul's bakery would have very delicious tarts. For their Signature Baked Item, I would think a raspberry jam-filled tartlet, with a crown design baked and placed carefully on the top. I chose raspberry because I really enjoy the flavour and I like the beautiful deep red colour of the jam. I feel the red would fit very well in a Heartslaybul theme, and the crown of course represents the Queen of Hearts.

Savanaclaw - Ok, we ALL know how Ruggie lost his mind in the Tsumderland event and cried "They turned Leona into a marketable plushie!!!😭". So like, you know Japanese Hamster Bread? Like that, except little lions. Entirely Ruggie's idea, and he is ecstatic at the profit they are bringing in. (Leona has no clue this is a thing. Ruggie will not tell him. Vil buys one every week just so he can bite its head off and then gives the body to Rook.)

Octavinelle - Cupcakes. They're fun and there's so many ways to decorate them. Specifically, for the Signature Cupcake: a purple batter that bakes into a lovely lilac coloured cupcake. The decoration: icing of blues and greens in a pattern that resembles waves, with a cream-coloured coiled shell made entirely of icing on top, and edible silver ball sprinkles scattered over it. I would like to think Azul has them make a "surprise" cupcake. There's always one cupcake per batch that has a filling of some kind, cream cheese icing, chocolate, vanilla...basically whatever Floyd is feeling that day (the cupcake itself is a vanilla flavour, which goes with pretty much any other flavour). The thing that draws people in is that they could get the cupcake with the filling! Rumour has it, the filling cupcake is Lucky and will help you pass your exams/assignments with flying colours (a rumour that Jade Definitely Did Not Start) and so demand is high. Which, of course, allows Azul to charge more for the cupcakes. You know. Supply and demand.

Scarabia - Thumb-print cookies with different jam fillings. They're colourful, you can buy a bunch at a time and share them, and the jam filling looks like edible jewels. I think Kalim would like these very much and I think he would want them to be the number one baked good in the store. They're not very difficult to make, so he even gets Jamil to teach him so he can help stock the store with more cookies. (I feel like Jamil would have to remind Kalim that people want more than just cookies from a bakery lol)

Pomefiore - Apple Pie. I know, I know...not very original or shocking. But, not just any apple pie. Mini apple pie shaped like a rose. Gorgeous and elegant, it tastes as delicious as it is beautiful. (If you can't picture it, please see in this link here) Of course, Epel's hometown supplies the apples. Rook is weeping at the beauty of the pies. Even Vil will have one, since it is small and not excessive.

Ignihyde - Specialty cookies. You know the ones; they're large cookies, a plain base, with gorgeous - sometimes even intricate - designs done in icing. I feel like the designs would change frequently, to fit the themes of the seasons, holidays, or ongoing releases of popular games/movies/etc. The designs are ART. Cater comes at least twice a week to buy a cookie and take pictures for Magicam. (At first he felt guilty because he didn't want to betray his bf, Trey, but then Trey said he wanted to try one, so they started going together on their dates.)

Diasomnia - Buns. Buns with...unique...fillings. Multiple unique fillings. Is it really so much a signature item as it is a game of roulette? With Lilia at the wheel, it's never a guarantee if the bun will even be edible...But somehow, that makes the other students even more eager to try it. It becomes kind of like Beanboozled. They make a game of it: who can chew the longest without swallowing or spitting it out, who got the best flavour, can you finish the entire bun or will you leave hungry? Lilia is having the Time of His Life and Silver is too afraid to go in the kitchen.

There you have it! My headcanons on what each dorm would have as a signature item if they ran a bakery! Hope you enjoyed, and please tell me your own thoughts! What signature items would you assign each dorm? I'd love to hear!

[mandelene]

Hetaween Day 6: New Neighbour

Welcome Home Word Count: 561

Manners – they’re hard to come by these days, but Francis prides himself on the fact that he is still one of the very few people who makes an effort to be courteous. For example, a new neighbor has just moved in across the street – a man around his age who seems to keep to himself – and Francis plans to bring him a freshly baked apple tarte Tatin to welcome him.

Francis has lived in this community for nearly ten years now, and he knows everyone on his block. He also knows about all of the gossip, rumors, and emotional baggage that gets circulated here. He has a perfect view of the street from his kitchen, so he inadvertently bears witness to all the drama that takes place throughout the day.

 Of course, he’s curious about this new neighbor, and no one seems to have much information on him yet. Where did he come from? What does he do for a living? Is he a widow, divorced, or just single? Why move into a three-bedroom home if you live on your own?

These are just some of the questions plaguing Francis’s mind. So, he packages up the tarte Tatin in a simple cake box and makes his way across the street, hoping for some answers.

He knocks twice on the door. As he’s waiting for a response, he sees a strange blue-green light flash from the living room area, and then, the front door suddenly comes swinging open. He is face-to-face with a blond-haired and green-eyed man who slightly resembles a Christmas elf.

“Bonjour – my name is Francis. I live across the street and just wanted to introduce myself. I brought you an apple tart.” 

The man looks somewhat startled, but he takes the cake box with a nod of gratitude and holds out his hand for a handshake. “Erm – hello. My name is Arthur. Nice to meet you, and thank you for the tart.”

Francis puts on his best dazzling smile. “Oh, no need to thank me. It was my pleasure. Baking relaxes me. I’m a pastry chef.” 

“How lovely…Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?” 

“Maybe some other time – I have a few errands I need to run, unfortunately. Is everything all right though? I noticed an odd flash of light. You aren’t having electrical problems, are you? I know that was an issue for me when I first moved in,” Francis says, still keeping up the friendly tone.

Arthur averts his gaze and says, “Oh, it’s nothing to worry about. I was just casting a protective ward on the house.” 

For a moment, Francis believes he must have misunderstood the man. “Excuse me?” 

“…Just kidding – I was testing some lights for Halloween that I plan to put outside later this evening,” Arthur clarifies with a little chuckle, but it doesn’t sound very convincing.

“Ahh, haha…” 

There is something deeply wrong with this man. This is going to take a lot of further investigation on Francis’ part.

“Well, I better get going then. Welcome to the neighborhood,” Francis says with a forced grin, cheeks aching from the effort. “I’ll see you around.” 

"Thanks very much again. Please do stop by for tea sometime.” 

Francis touches the man’s shoulder and dips his head in agreement. “Of course. I definitely will.”

[sulla-slays-cronulla]

Fruity Houjicha Lattea Tart

Starting with CRUST 

                        Dry

- 57g wholemeal flour

- 63g ground almonds

- salt as preferred, 2-3 tbsp Allspice mix (because I was lazy and didn’t want to decide carefully what to use)

32g unsalted butter

Mix together by rolling gently between fingers, should resemble fine breadcrumbs. 

                        Wet

1 egg (Chew’s king-sized)

1 tbsp molasses

1/2 or 1tbsp pecan oil, didn’t really measure

1 tsp vanilla essence

Pour into the dry and quickly mix together by hand. It was an obscenely perfect result first try although every measurement was random convenience and feel. I wonder if that’ll ever happen again...

(was a weensy bit of the molasses in the bottom of the egg-wet bowl that I used later)

Roll out thin on baking paper if going to plop into a wider tart dish that’s salted butter lined. 

Blind baked this at 170C for 7 minutes because I wasn’t sure if it would burn, but after taste test it can deffo handle a longer pre-bake. The aroma is unreal. 

Moving onto to central body & fruit toppers

- 1 tbsp apple cider vinegar into chopped fruit bowl (prevent browning)

(in here are the apple, sun plums, nectarines, 1/2 strawberries, jam)

- 1 massive Pacific Rose apple sliced

- 2 white nectarines sliced

- 2 sun plums sliced

- 1 blue plum / soury dark red/black one [topper, thin slice]

- 5 strawberries rough chopped + 5 strawberries [topper, thin slice]

- 60g mixed cashew and macadamia nuts, rough blended or chopped

- 10 chopped dried cherries (sugar free)

- 9 g unsalted butter

- 1 tbsp natural brown sugar -> put into teeny remainder of egg-bowl molasses, stir to dissolve

- 2-3 tbsp sugar free peach jam (+ / or flower honey if you have it)

- 1 tbsp Cointreau

And, a portion according to your taste of a ‘Coconut Lattea’

       - 2 ground tablespoons of genmai houjicha (for baking)

       - 5-6 tbsp light coconut milk

       - 1 tsp cinnamon

       - 1 tbsp peach jam or flower honey as sweetener. Fine if less or none

1. On not-so-high heat, toast (9g) butter for a couple of minutes in a non-stick pan. 

Add (2-3tbsp) peach jam to the sliced fruits & vinegar, but keep the thin sliced toppers off to the side and the chopped dried cherries for a bit later. 

2. Once it starts to have a slightly milk-caramelly aroma, pour in the main body fruit bowl. 

Stir a little to get it all nice coated in butter, add the brown sugar, allow to cook and reduce a bit. Takes about 6-12 minutes? Didn’t pay attention to total time. 

Add the chopped cherries approx. 2-3 minutes in so they spread their deliciousness to the rest.

3. Once the liquid in the pan is starting to make kind of a crackling sound (that’s the fruit sugars), or you’re satisfied with the apple condition, add the nuts and coconut lattea: Half, or full amount, or half + more coconut milk to the pan. Whatever flavour profile and texture you’re in the mood for. This version is around half of the coconut lattea mixture to experience more of the fruit medley.  

Within a minute of adding nuts and ‘milk’ it will be thickening, add the Cointreau mini shot to give it a citrus rounding and bodily punch, stir, and you can turn the heat off and move pan to side.

4. Herd into tart dish, decorate with toppers, and pre-heat oven to 180C. 

Arrange the slices as you please, I chose central strawberries because concentrated strawberry sugar-syrup is awesome. 

This was ~30 minutes baking and could have done more but I was worried about the tart base burning. Didn’t need to be. 

yes, this is a very superfluous pre-bake photo but whatever. Would be great with ice cream. Is a very, very light dessert. 

[julek]

More Jaskier x Sam the Baker, because they deserve everything that is good in this world. (Read @valdomarx’s here). read on ao3

The afternoon autumn sun bathes the bakery’s windowsill lilies in golden light.

Inside, the smell of fresh, warm bread fills the senses of every patron waiting for their order, the perfume of sweet pastries wafting through the shop as Dijon, the boy at the counter, carefully wraps some linen around a couple of strawberry cakes.

Sam comes out of the back with a large tray of fig tarts, the last of the afternoon, and places them on a nearby table, chuckling when he hears the customers ooh and ahh at the golden-brown treats.

“Fresh out of the oven,” he tells them, wiping his hands on his apron. “Good for the soul, something sweet.”

The patrons hum in agreement.

Sam moves behind Dijon and peers at his work, murmuring praise at his dedication. The boy is determined to learn the craft, and Sam is more than willing to teach him.

“Just one more and you can go home,” he tells him, eyeing the clock on the counter. “Your Ma will be mad at me otherwise.”

Dijon huffs a laugh and shakes his head. “If you keep putting those almond treats she likes so much on my coat when you think I’m not looking, she’ll definitely be alright with me staying a bit late.”

Sam laughs as he wraps up some sweet buns for the old lady from the flower shop. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The last of the patrons filter out or the shop while the sun hangs low in the sky. After counting the earned coin and making sure nobody got short-changed, Sam pulls Dijon into a bear hug before ruffling his hair and wishing him a good night.

He washes his hands before going to the back, and he’s counting how many loaves he’ll need for tomorrow when he hears the shop’s bell ring softly.

“Oh,” he says, and heads for the door to the front. The sorry, we’re closed hangs from the tip of his tongue but dies in it when he sees who’s waiting for him at the counter.

“Jaskier,” he breathes.

The bard, bundled up in warm clothes and a large scarf, smiles.

It crinkles his eyes.

“Heard the florist praising a certain baker’s fig tarts, and I had to know what the fuss was about,” he says with a shrug, but his smile honey-sweet.

Sam approaches the counter, resting his elbows there. “Well,” he says, “they are good for the soul.”

Jaskier laughs. “Ever the business man,” he teases. Sam watches as one of his hands falls on the counter, close to his, and the other moves close to his face. Slowly, gently, Jaskier cards his fingers through his hair, brown locks white with stray flour, and takes out a piece of linen that had gotten lost in his curls. “There.”

Sam can feel his cheeks grow warm at the closeness. “I have no fig tarts left,” he says regretfully, “but I am trying out a new recipe of apple tarts. Brown sugar brought from the desert.”

“Ooh.” Jaskier’s eyes widen slightly. He’s always interested in learning about Sam’s trade. “Is it different? Than white sugar?”

His fingers are still carding through Sam’s hair.

“Flavor is richer,” Sam murmurs, entranced. “Deeper.”

Jaskier’s eyes have specks of green between all that blue. His cheeks are flushed red from the cold autumn air.

“I’d love to try them, then.” Jaskier’s hand pulls away, but not for long. He places it on top of Sam’s with care. “If you’d like to show me.”

There are coffee beans in the back, too, from Sam’s merchant’s travels to the deserts. Jaskier would love the bitter flavor.

They could curl up in the small but comfortable couch in Sam’s living room, and Sam could light a small fire for them, and he could bake some apple tarts only for Jaskier to try, and they could discuss the tweaks in the recipe, and Jaskier could sing him a song or two, and maybe, just maybe, if Destiny is kind to him, Jaskier could stay the night.

But he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself.

So he says, “Of course,” and takes Jaskier to the back.

[bitsandbobsandstuff]

The Midnight Coconuts

Summary: Bucky and his girl take a trip to the grocery store. Several things are involved, including coconuts, a 25cent gum-ball machine, Avengers branded Jell-O, chocolate milk straight from the jug, and tampons.  Characters: Bucky x Reader Words: 3k Warnings: Some swearing. Insane levels of fluff. Dangerously adorable Bucky. One (1) random reference to Not Another Teen Movie. 

A/N: Listen, I will never be over silly domestic Bucky! I originally started this story before TFATWS came out and when I imagined Sam had a niece, so just go with it. Part of me wrote this, because I needed to convince myself that I love grocery shopping (one can only eat takeaway and Trader Joe’s Orange Chicken for so long) and the other part wrote this because I firmly believe domestic routines can be the most romantic adventures out there.

When the doors to the grocery store whoosh open with a gust of stale manufactured air, Bucky skids to an abrupt and dramatic stop.  

“WAIT!”

Behind him, you stumble in panic, fumbling with an armful of reusable grocery bags. Instantly you’re imagining spilled blood and stab wounds and clean ups on aisle three and god dammit, how can there be a problem? This is a grocery store at midnight on a Wednesday. Shouldn’t the forces of evil be sleeping? Why is it so impossible to get a day off work? Don’t they know you need rest? And peanut butter? And that you’re dangerously low on toilet paper?

The forces of evil are the worst.

Raising weary fists, you huff.

“What? Where is it?”

Bucky sidesteps toward a row of small red and green machines beside the entrance, falling to his knees and smushing his nose eagerly against the glass. Reaching a hand behind him, there are several impatient grabby motions, before he glances back.

“Babe, can you give me a quarter? I need a gum-ball.”

Planting a sneaker clad foot on his ass, you shove. Hard.  

“Bucky, we talked about this. Remember how you agreed to lower the drama and keep things in perspective? I thought we were under attack.”

“If I don’t get a green gum-ball,” he declares dramatically, “there will be an attack.”

Throwing the cloth bags at his face, you stomp off to retrieve a shopping cart, plunking your purse in the front and hunching over the handlebars.  

“I thought you said you were a millionaire now. Buy your own gum-ball.”

Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Like I carry loose change,” he scoffs. “C’mon, just one quarter. Please?”

This time, he gives you the Look. That patented Bucky Barnes stare, with the wide eyes and full pouty lips and faux innocent expression, and if this man wasn’t the love of your life you’d quite happily stab him in the heart.

Instead, you open your purse and fish out a quarter, flinging it at his frustratingly pretty face. It bounces off his forehead and he scoops it up with a grin.

“So just to clarify. You came to the grocery store covered in knives, but you forgot to bring money?”

Giving you an indulgent smile, he jams the quarter into the slot. With a twist and shake, a gum-ball rattles free, and Bucky crows with delight when he sees the green candy. He pops it in his mouth. 

“I didn’t forget. I made a conscious decision to remove the temptation. If I bring cash, I’ll spend it. You know I ain’t great with that whole self control thing.”

“How encouraging to hear, from the man with knives pouring out his ass.”  

Jumping to his feet, he throws an arm around your shoulders. 

“Ass knives sound painful.”

“Depends on how sharp they are,” you mumble, pulling a carefully folded sheet of paper from your jacket.

“Excuse you? My knives are always perfectly sharpened, thank you very much. What kind of expert assassin runs around with dull knives? Damn baby, it’s like you don’t even know me.”

Ignoring him, you flatten out the paper and smooth the edges, sighing happily at the block letters and structured diagrams drawn in deep blue ink. 

Here it is, your masterpiece. A monument to productivity. The gold standard by which all optimization models should be benchmarked. This isn’t just any list, this is The List.

Everything is grouped, first by aisle, then by product location within the aisle, and then from top to bottom shelf order, to maximize efficiency. This is the dream list. The kind that inspires jealousy. The kind people hold up at TED talks when they talk about time management techniques. Marie Kondo wishes she had this list. 

Bucky snorts when he sees the carefully printed boxes.  

“God, you’re such a square,” he says adoringly. He plants a sugary wet kiss on your temple and you grind an elbow into his ribs.

“We discussed this, Bucky. Don’t mock my lists.” 

“Sorry babe, I ain’t mocking. Your lists are beautiful, they always get me all hot and bothered,” he agrees, dipping lower to lick behind your ear. “And I really love that list you keep with all those dirty, filthy, sex things you wanna do to me.”

“I don’t have a list like that.”

“Yeah, I know,” Bucky sighs, “and I don’t know how many more hints I can drop here.”

Reaching under his shirt, you rub his belly consolingly. “Okay then. This weekend I’ll sit down and make you a special list. One so disgusting and dirty and depraved, it would make Wade Wilson cry.”

Bucky laughs and squeezes you tighter. 

“About damn time honey. I’m equally parts terrified and horny. So where’re we headed first?”

“Produce,” you answer promptly, plowing forward, Bucky still chuckling beside you.

The whole scenario was ironic, actually. There was no need to grocery shop - automatic ordering mechanisms  across the Avengers tower rendered the task meaningless - but sometimes it was a welcome relief to partake in such an ordinary thing. Unable to sleep after one particularly terrible mission, you found yourself wandering the aisles of your 24-hour supermarket, dressed in pineapple adorned pajama pants and one of Bucky’s rattier sweatshirts, searching for ice cream. The unexpected symmetry of products arranged along the shelves, the rainbow hued produce, the hint of baking bread wafting from the ovens, all those everyday trappings of normality, they washed over like a soothing balm. Soon enough, the boiling bad thoughts simmered to nothing more than a cache of blurry memories.

When you got home, sleep came fast, deep and dreamless.

One month later, the idea struck again.

After 36 hours of Bucky tossing and turning, dark shadows bruising beneath weary blue eyes, you took his hand and led him down the dark street for a midnight adventure. He was skeptical, disbelieving that something so simple could chase away the insomnia. But he dutifully followed you, strolling aimlessly through the aisles, throwing odds and ends into the cart. 

The tension gradually eased, he began to relax, and suddenly? 

He was hooked.

An hour later, after arguing the health benefits of frosted Cheerios over oatmeal, poking each hunk of cheese in the display, and loading the cart with every single flavor of spaghetti sauce on the shelf, the heavy weight of remembering began to ease. When he collapsed into bed, he slept for eight hours straight.

I don’t know what that was, he swore the next morning, munching through his third bowl of frosted Cheerios, but it was magic.

And with that, a midnight ritual was born. Sometimes you make the trek alone, sometimes Bucky does the same, but whenever life permits you go together. This small slice of domesticity brings a warm comfort to this strange life.   

There is no doubt, this is your favorite area of the entire store.

Barrels filled with tart oranges and smooth red apples. Tables piled high with bananas, some just shy of yellow, others sunshine perfect, and a few with speckles of black (which are the best). Shelves lining the walls, overflowing with bundles of herbs and lettuce, all coated in a fine layer of mist. 

Bliss. 

Heading straight for the apples, you plunge into the Gala pile, rummaging until you come up with ten perfect ones. Peaches follow, fingers rubbing along the delicate pinky-orange fuzz. Squeeze, smell, squeeze, smell. Five are chosen for a pie (Sam pleaded shamelessly until you agreed to make him one), and in the cart they go. Heading toward the wall of herbs, you’re reaching for the basil when a metallic bang makes you jump. Spinning around, you find Bucky lobbing coconuts into the cart.

“We need these.”

“We really don’t, Buck. I hate coconut, it tastes like suntan lotion.”

“They’re not for eating,” he grabs an apple, wipes it on his shirt, and takes a juicy bite. “They’re for security.”

Sticky juice drips from his lip, catching in his beard. When you reach over to swipe it away, he nips your finger with a grin.

“Explain please.”

“See it’s like this. We’re just here shopping, doin’ our thang -”

“Don’t say thang.”

“- when someone attacks. What happens? BAM. One of these furry beauties breaks their face. Problem solved.”

Giving him a slow perusal, you raise an eyebrow.

“Were the 47 knives you’re carrying not enough to deflect this attack?”

Finishing off the apple in three sloppy bites, he carefully tucks the price sticker in his pocket so he can scan it before leaving and sets the mangled core beside your purse.

“Babe, these are my back-up plan. A good soldier always has a back-up plan.”

While you grab a bottle of extra-pulpy orange juice, Bucky picks two jugs of chocolate milk, snaps one open and takes a swing. Ever the thrifty shopper, he pulls a familiar bag from his back pocket, fishes out a crumpled piece of newspaper, and dangles it before you.

“Found a coupon for this,” he says gleefully. “Buy one, get one free. It’s called a BOGO. A BOGO. Hilarious, right? Fuck me, I love the future.”

Still laughing, he takes another long drink of chocolate milk and smacks his lips.

It was a lazy Sunday morning when you discovered this particular habit. Walking into the living room, you found Bucky buried in a sea of Sunday newspaper, tongue between his teeth and scissors in hand while he clipped coupons. He wasn’t picky, if it was remotely interesting, it went into the YES pile. It was one of those random things that brought him inordinate levels of joy, so of course you encouraged it. On his last birthday, you gifted him with a green zippered bag decorated with angry looking owls and official looking letters stitched across the front:

Bucky’s Coupon Bag  Thriftn’ Machine Since 1917

He laughed for five straight minutes and then stuffed it full. The bag accompanies you on every trip and the sight of Bucky excitedly rifling through his wad of coupons still makes your heart swell.  

Setting aside his BOGO, Bucky continues down the aisle, leaving you to pause in front of the yogurt. While you contemplate the merits of blackberry vs strawberry, Bucky slides over holding three cans of Reddi-Whip. 

“Are you actually planning to eat that? I thought you said whipped air is for, and I quote, ‘spineless, tasteless trash heathens’?”

Bucky shakes the can of spray whipped cream and wiggles his eyebrows, leveling you with a sultry stare. 

“Hell no I’m not eating it. This is for the bedroom. Last week I watched this god-awful movie where some blond guy - who looked exactly like Steve, by the way - made himself a whipped cream bikini for his girl. Decided I’m gonna do that for you. You’re welcome.”

“That sounds gross and unsanitary.” 

“If by gross and unsanitary you mean spicy and sexy, then yes. Yes it does.”

Whistling what sounds like the theme music from a bad porn, he adds two tubs of honey swirled Greek yogurt, pats your butt, and strolls ahead, throwing a roughish wink over his shoulder. Imagining the melted whipped cream soaking into your bedsheets, you mentally add more laundry detergent to the list.

“Hang on, turn here.”

Tugging the cart behind him, Bucky stalks toward the feminine hygiene display. It takes him a minute to scan the products before squatting down to the bottom shelf. Grabbing two jumbo boxes of tampons, oddly enough the brand you prefer, he pops back to his feet.  

“Dare I ask why you need these?”

A faint pink flush crawls up his neck.  

“Well, you know, two reasons. They’re really great for stopping bloody noses, you know? Just poke ‘em up there and they soak it all up.”

 He mimes the execution and adds a thumbs up.

“And the second reason?”

Squinting at his boots, he shuffles his feet a bit. The pink flush deepens. 

“Um, you know - I know you’re out, since I stuck the last one up Steve’s nose last week, and yeah. Anyway. It’s about that time. Of the month. For you.”

Clearing his throat, he reaches for his chocolate milk, but you grab his wrist.  

“You know when my period’s going to start?”

He shrugs self-consciously and fiddles with a loose thread on his shirt.  

“Well yeah. You think it’s just a coincidence when all your favorite candy shows up every month?” Looking up, he shoots you a crooked smile and leans over the cart to kiss your forehead. Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, you haul him in for a real kiss instead and his startled laughter tickles your lips. When you break away, those bright blue eyes are shining. 

“Thank you, Bucky,” you murmur.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he whispers. 

This is the aisle where the cart officially explodes.

Lasagna noodles.

Egg noodles.

Spaghetti noodles.

Penne.

Linguine. 

Fettuccine.

Literally one of every noodle is selected, because Bucky Barnes is a self-proclaimed noodle slut. 

As you organize the boxes and search for orzo, you see him furtively add an extra bag of elbow macaroni. A quiet cough hides your laughter.

The last time Sam’s four-year-old niece came to the tower, she and Bucky spent hours making glittery elbow macaroni necklaces, which they ceremoniously gifted to everyone. When Sam casually mentioned her enthusiastically telling everyone at pre-school about her friend Bucky and how much fun she had visiting him, Bucky ran to a craft store and bulk bought supplies of glue, string, paint, and glitter, just in case she comes over again.

Months later and the entire team are still finding puddles of glitter all over the tower, but the delight on Bucky’s face anytime someone mentions that arts and crafts afternoon? 

It’s worth the mess.     

Gathering up brown sugar, instant oats, and chocolate chips, you turn to drop them in the cart when Bucky makes a strangled noise. Glancing over, you find him bouncing on his toes, vibrating with excitement.

“Babe. Babe. Are you making monster cookies?”

Adding a can of raisins, you search for the good vanilla. The kind that actually tastes like vanilla, not a cheap car wash air freshener. 

“I promised I would,” you remind him. Bucky plasters himself against your back, wrapping you in an enthusiastic hug and nuzzling his face against your neck.

“I love those fucking cookies,” he declares. “They’re my favorite thing ever. Next to you I mean.”

Finding the vanilla, you spin in his arms and return the squeeze.  

“I know you do. But you have to share them this time, okay? You can’t just eat them all yourself like the last two times. Agree?”

“Agree…to disagree. They’re wasted on other people, no one else loves as much. It’s for the best when I eat them all, it’s proof how much I love you. I’m doing it for you. I’m supporting you. Because I love you.”

“You’re completely full of shit,” you reply.

“I swear I’m not! Just listen!”

The excuses grow longer and wilder as Bucky outlines his rationale against sharing, walking backward and dragging the cart with him as he pleads his case. He’s diving into the science of super soldier metabolism levels and caloric requirements and the fact that his sister never shared anything with him, when he bumps into a tall display. 

He pulls up short, eyes narrowing. Plunking his fists on his hips, he growls a disgruntled sigh and glares at the rows of packaging. 

“You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

Lined up in neat rows, you see boxes of Jell-O organized by color and flavor. On the cover of each are an assortment of familiar images.  

“Are these Avengers themed Jell-O?” you ask, picking up a box with Sam’s image and the words Wild Berry Wilson. The rows extend further, filled with Lime Green Hulk and Blue Raspberry Rogers and Black Cherry Widow and Strawberry Lemon Stark. Exasperated, Bucky grabs the Sparkling Orange Spider flavor. 

“Is this for real? The kid gets one and I didn’t? Someone in PR is getting fired.”

“Well there’re only so many flavors, Buck,” you point out practically, but Bucky’s not in the mood for logic. Instead, he swipes an entire shelf of Jell-O flavors into the cart.  

“I swear to god, I have to do everything around here. Fine then. I’ll make my own flavor, Blackberry Kiwi Soldier or Winter Watermelon Rainbow, or something.” He pauses thoughtfully. “Anyway, I’ll work on the name. But I’m bringing it to dinner tomorrow night and everyone is gonna eat it.”

He dumps in a bag of mini-marshmallows and grabs sprinkles for topping, before marching down the aisle. Cringing at the volume of sugar in the cart, you make another mental note to schedule a dentist appointment.

“Go do your manly duty and find the meat. We need two 5lb rump roasts.”

“I like your rump roast,” he instantly responds and reaches over to smack your butt again. Anticipating the move, you catch his arm and twist it behind his back. He barks out a breathless laugh and you slap his ass in return.

“Your innuendos are tragic.”

Releasing him with a gentle shove, Bucky snatches up his three coconuts and ambles away, laughing while he juggles them. When he returns, he has the requested rump roasts, several packages of bacon, and a bundle of cocktail shrimp.

“If my innuendos get better, then can I touch your butt?”

“Maybe. But they better be real good.”

An added benefit to shopping at midnight? Not a soul in line.

Loading everything onto the conveyer belt, you automatically organize for bagging. Boxes together, produce together, meat together. Bucky adds a pack of batteries, a tin of mints, and some trashy magazines.

The last three items in the cart are his coconuts. They rattle around until you toss them at him, motioning back to the produce department. 

“We made it out alive. Go put them back.”

Still chomping his tasteless green gum-ball, he shakes his head and plops them down. 

“Nah, I have another idea for them. Got all those craft supplies at home, I’m gonna make you something.”

“Should I even ask?”

Bucky blows a huge, wet bubble and looks you up and down.

“Have you every worn one of those coconut bras? Like on TV, with the ladies in grass skirts? I’m gonna make you one. I already have string and glue. And glitter.”

“I think you may be overestimating your crafting abilities.” Digging out your credit card, you wait for the final tally. 

“Well, if it’s terrible then you’ll just be naked. Either way, I win.”

Shaking out your grocery sacks, he packs everything with Tetris-like efficiency and slides all of them up the vibranium arm.   

“How about I make you a deal. I’ll wear a coconut bra, if you’ll make yourself something to wear as well.”

Bucky blows another sugary bubble, pondering the idea.

“Like a coconut man thong?”

“Exactly like a coconut man thong.”

“Deal. Add it to that special dirty list you’re making me honey. We got loads to do.” 

Outside, the night air smells sweet and cool, the barest hint of a spring rain and fresh grass lingering on the breeze. Already, your eyes are feeling heavy, tonight’s quiet adventure ushering in that sought after peace. 

In your right hand, the three coconuts swing gently in their plastic sack. Humming under his breath, Bucky yawns, reaching for your other hand. His warm, calloused palm squeezes tight, his thumb stroking lightly over your skin.

He turns to you with a sleepy, lopsided smile.

Midnight and coconuts.  

It always does the trick.

***

[tootiredmotel]

Give him the real thing

For @floral-cas 's event!!! First time writing from an outsider/oc's pov so bear with me. Huge huge congrats on your milestone K!!! You are a PILAR of this lil community and we all love you 💚🌺💚🌺💚🌺

Read on ao3. 1.7k words

"Alright, uh… confession. I got no idea what I'm doin' here."

He looked around the shop like a monster was about to pop out of any corner. Like the carnations were going to bite him and the pots lined up on the windowsill next to them would come to life and crush his feet. The poor guy looked terrified, but it's nothing Maya hadn't handled before.

"That's what I'm here for. What's your name?" She asked, sensing they'd be there a while.

"Dean."

On any other day, Maya would've been resenting a burly, middle-aged guy with no idea what he wanted coming into the shop twenty minutes before closing, especially on a Thursday. Jade had their A.A. meetings on Thursdays so Maya was alone for the evening. But this Dean guy? He looked so lost, so nervous, so utterly out of place. There was something else about him that made her want to help, too. Maya wasn't sure what, but she'd figure it out.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Maya. Let's start with this: why are you here today, Dean?"

"Anniversary tomorrow."

Concise and to the point. Maya made a mental note. She also noted how he wiped his palms on his jeans and clenched his jaw. Nerves.

"How many years have you been together?"

That got a smile out of him. "A lot. A whole lot. But this is, uh. First wedding anniversary."

She donned a wide smile. "Congratulations. That's wonderful."

"Yeah. Thanks, thank you." He stuffed his hands in his pockets, still not meeting her eyes.

"Doing anything special?"

"Nothin' fancy. My brother and his wife are taking the kiddo for the night so, picnic in the backyard, lookin' at the stars, all that cheesy romantic crap."

His words didn't match his tone. It was evident Dean was absolutely smitten, Maya recognized the look, and he was making an effort. He was filled to the brim with giddiness and adoration for this person, and it shone through from him just thinking about them. Jade still looked at Maya like that every morning and night, and so did Maya at them. Every day since freshman year of college. Maya's chest swelled.

"Thing is," Dean continued, a bit more relaxed now. "Cas knows all about this stuff. We got this huge garden behind the house that I'm not allowed to even touch. There's a million books about nature and trees and flower meanings on the shelf, and Cas has read all of 'em. I didn't even know flowers had meanings, I don't know jack shit about any of it, but…"

"You want to impress Cas."

"I wanna impress Cas. It's gotta be good." 

"You've come to the right place then." Maya kept an eye on Dean as she circled the counter. He was studying the pride flags hanging in the window with a clenched jaw, and Maya went on alert. She pulled out the binder they kept in the drawer and plopped it down in front of him a little harder than she needed to, calling his attention. "My partner Jade is more of a nerd about this stuff than I am, but they made this for situations like these."

Dean read the cover, Jade and Maya's Quick Guide to Flower Meanings, and smiled. "Nice."

They spent forty-five minutes walking around the store, binder in hand, slowly constructing the message Dean wanted to convey with his bouquet. He was adamant on it containing blue, so Maya went for the Forget-me-nots first. “Love and hope,” said the binder, which she deemed fitting enough for a first wedding anniversary. 

Dean looked like someone content with his life, and he agreed when Maya suggested they look under the happiness category. “Well, Cas makes me happy,” he said, and they settled on Felicias, also blue. 

Dean eventually got comfortable enough and leaned over to look at the binder in Maya’s hands. “Think there’s anything in there for grace?”

Highly specific, but possible, Maya thought. “Let’s find out.”

And they did. Plumerias, white.

“Anything else?” She asked him. Dean donned a thousand-yard stare as he thought about it, and Maya figured this man had been through a lot. More than she could ever imagine. She was glad he’d found some peace.

“Freedom,” Dean said finally. Freesias, white as well.

It was an odd bouquet, Maya admitted, but Dean was an odd man, and he looked happy with it. He was still nervous, still out of his element, but there was more excitement in the twinkle of his eyes than anything else.

“Cas will love it,” Maya assured him, and he beamed. She still knew very little about this Cas person— Dean could speak a lot without really saying anything, careful and reserved, even dancing around using gendered pronouns for Cas, which Maya found interesting—, but she could see Dean was living a happy life as their husband. That was good enough for her.

“Here’s hoping,” he said as he handed over his credit card, but he seemed a lot more sure than hopeful. He knew Cas would like it, and Maya couldn’t help a sense of pride grow inside her. Dean also put some cash in the tip jar and left with a smile. A good day’s work, and maybe a new friend in town.

---

“Maya?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

Jade poked their head in the door, beaming at Maya as she ran the books in the back room.

"There's a gentleman asking for you."

"By name?"

Jade nodded. Maya sent them a questioning look, to which they just shrugged. If Jade wasn't all that worried about it, Maya supposed there was no reason for her to be either. She made her way out, squeezing Jade's hip as she passed them, and stepped up to the counter. The trenchcoat-clad man smiled at her.

"Maya?"

The depth of his voice caught her by surprise, but she recovered in time to reply "That's me."

The man smiled wider. "It's a pleasure to meet you, my name is Cas. You might not remember, but last week you-"

"Did you say Cas?" Maya couldn't contain her interruption, or the eagerness as she asked: "Dean's Cas?"

Cas's smile widened even more, which she didn't think was possible. It was blinding, and Maya, even in all her queerness, could definitely understand what Dean saw in him. "That's right."

Dean’s fixation on blue flowers suddenly made sense too, as she noticed his eyes. "He adores you, you know. You're his heaven and earth."

Cas's smile faltered at her words, and Maya feared she'd said something wrong.

"I'm sorry if I'm overstepping."

“No, no, it’s alright.” He looked down at his wedding band, and his smile returned. “He’s all that and more to me.”

Cas stared at his ring for a second longer. It was silver and had a small blue gem embedded into it. Maya could swear it appeared to swirl with light.

“Dean spoke wonders of you,” she said.

He looked back up at her. “You, too.”

She blinked in surprise at that.

“I loved the bouquet. I thanked him for it, over and over, and every time he said you were the miracle worker. That he was clueless the whole time and couldn’t have done it without you.”

“That’s not true,” Maya deflected, a steady heat rising to her cheeks. “He had a pretty good idea of what he wanted. And, if anything, he and I couldn’t have done it without Jade’s expertise.” She gestured toward her partner, helping a customer at the other end of the shop, and also tapped the binder, which was out on the countertop today.

“Then I suppose I’m here to thank both of you.”

He reached into a tote bag that Maya hadn’t noticed he was carrying and pulled out a plastic container. “We run a small baking business out of our home. These are on me. Apple and honey tarts.” He placed the container in front of her. On top of it was a label that read D&C’s Pastries. “They are also gluten-free, just in case.“

“What’s going on?” Jade asked, approaching Maya’s side with an expectant smile.

“Jade, love, do you remember Dean? From last week?”

“You told me about him, yeah, wedding anniversary.”

“Well this is Cas,” she gestured to him.

“Dean's husband,” Cas interjected. Jade and Maya shared a knowing smile. “I just wanted to drop these off as a thank you for helping Dean. Apple and honey tarts, gluten-free.”

“That is so sweet of you,” Jade exclaimed, eagerly taking the pastries. Maya rolled her eyes fondly at the pun, which Cas didn’t seem to catch.

“I was just doing my job,” Maya said. “But thank you.”

“Papa!”

They all turned to the child, blond and adorable, running excitedly toward Cas. At the door, where the child came from, stood an exasperated Dean.

“Jack,” Cas started, scooping the child in his arms. Jack wrapped his arms around Cas’s neck. “I thought I told you and Daddy to wait for me at the café, I wasn’t going to be long.”

“He missed you. We both did,” Dean gazed at him as he approached. “Dude, what are you-”

Dean scanned over the scene he’d just walked into and seemed to realize what was happening.

“So that’s what the tarts were for. Hey, Maya.”

“Hi, Dean.”

“And you must be Jade,” Dean said, extending a hand toward them.

“Yes! Heard about you, nice to finally meet you, Dean.”

“You too. You and that book of yours are life-savers. If I’d known the tarts were for you guys, I would’a made more.”

“These are more than enough, thank you. In fact, here...” Maya turned to a vase of daisies they had on a shelf and pulled out three. “Now I feel like we’re even.”

“Not by a long shot,” Dean said as he took his flower and Cas’s. He put his behind his ear, and Cas’s in his trenchcoat’s lapel, as Maya handed Jack his own flower.

They all promised to not be strangers, and kept their promise. Dean and Cas would bring over baked goods, and in exchange, Jade and Maya would let them take home a potted plant for their garden. Jack would always leave with a small flower in his hand, a different one every time, wrapped in Cas’s arms as he explained the flower’s origins or symbolism to his son. Dean would be the last one out the door, always turning back and mouthing a “thank you” to Maya. Every time, without fail.

And every time, Maya would think that she wanted what they had. Happiness, peace, a family, unconditional and true love. And every time, she would look over at Jade, and know she was well on her way.

[tea42]

Tag 10 People You want to know more about

Thanks for the tag @rakshadow , and @anneapocalypse

Tagging without pressure @sandraugiga, @transfenris-truther, @barbex, @imperatrixvini, @indeath-sacrifice, @only-slightly-terrified, @plisuu, @lgvalenzuela, @ar-lasa-mala-revas, @glowing-blue-feathermage, @pinkfadespirit

curious for more of you but I’ll stick to the limit

Favourite colour: Green in its many shades 💚

Favourite food: my roasted red pepper and sun dried tomato lasagna

Song stuck in your head: Better Son/Daughter by Rilo Kiley (reminds me of Jurian Hawke)

Last thing you googled: medicine stuff

Time: never enough of it

Dream Trip: There are several forests throughout the world I would love to hike and camp in. I’d like to see more old growth forests.

Last book you read: I just started Dominion by C.S. Friedman. It’s a prequel to the Coldfire Trilogy. I read the first story in Tevinter Nights.

Last book you enjoyed reading: I read my kid ‘Oddly Enough’ by Bruce Coville and I loved it. I don’t care how young his book is written for, it can still be excellent.

Last book you hated reading: I can’t remember the name of it, but it was a horror novel by Clive Barker. The opening made me pass on it.

Favourite thing to cook/bake: breads and soups the most. Also apple cake, and sugar cookie apple tart because others like them so much. I like to make piroshki and okonomyaki when I have the energy as they can be specialized for each person.

Favourite craft to do in your spare time: I have a lot of interests which is good as I’m not always able to participate in one or the other for various reasons. Sometimes I need to be moving so I really like to garden when it’s cool. I love growing things from seed or little starts and watching them get big. When it’s too hot for me do repairs/tinker inside. When I have more energy I’m going to finish stripping, revarnishing and reulpolstering some chairs.

I really like Painting/ sketching and writing. I have trouble with writing when I get burnt out with socializing or if I’m sick, like I have a cap on my language for the day and then I need to be quiet. I also like knitting, weaving and (visibly) mending clothes.

Most niche dislike: Mirrors. I’m fine around them but I’ve always found them creepy and used to have really bad nightmares about them when I was a kid.

Opinion on circuses now and in history: Now- I actually realized I was bisexual at 5 years old while watching the gymnasts at a circus even though I wouldn’t know that word for many years. I really enjoyed it as a kid. I am glad there have been ethical improvements in recent years. I don’t like crowds but the skill in live entertainment is admirable. The history is both interesting and sad. 

Do you have a sense of direction and if not what is the worst way you ever got lost: I can find North to a degree that others find uncanny. I get weirded out in places that confuse it