#tea + tea packaging is a Passion

[cjlinton]

Indie TTRPGS as Teas

Cozy Town by Rae Nedjadi (@temporalhiccup) as Art of Tea Orchid Oolong

Wickedness by M Veselak as Octavia Tea Lavender Assam

The Snow Queen by Jeeyon Shim (@jeeyonshim) as Harney & Sons Black Cask Bourbon

Sleepaway by Jay Dragon (@jdragsky) as Aesthete Tea Summer Nights

[noirflms]

THE HOUSEHUSBAND LIFE — hq men

haikyuu men as househusbands. or haikyuu men who’d be good househusbands in general.

— ୨୧ ˖ ˚ AKAASHI KEIJI !

he is the one who keeps track of finance in the house , keeps track of how much you should spend even if you get a six-sum salary and love spending it on him even if he doesn't like it because he wants you to save for the future.

he also pretty much cooks all sorts of dishes and morning tea made by him is served to you in bed , he is just the best. buys groceries when you're out to work , keeps the house neat and clean — it's a penthouse so it's not much work as it's not that dirty all the time — keeps track of your health and if you're pretty much not skipping breakfast or lunch cuz he's there to spoon feed you at dinner.

he's not much fan of laundry just knows he has to fold it and keep it neatly in your shared closet and is pretty much a the best husband of all ( according to your mother ).

— ୨୧ ˖ ˚ SUGAWARA KOUSHI !

he is that type of house-husband who actually takes care of the loundry more than cooking and cleaning but still cleans the house just the way you like it — organized and neatly done. he doesn't step in the kitchen for he knows he might burn whatever he cooks so you don't let him step in there , it's either you come home and cook but if your tired , it's take out time!

whenever he does laundry he has a habit of smelling the clothes before folding for he like the smell of the detergent you use and the clothing softener should be if the best company because that is kinda professional when you go to work wearing soft and clean clothes.

dusts around the house with music playing in the background and does all the cleaning while blasting Oliva Rodrigo on the amazon echo you brought so he won't have to go on connecting his phone to the Bluetooth other than that he is just the best husband you could ask for.

— ୨୧ ˖ ˚ KITA SHINSUKE !

he is the package , can cook , cleans , does laundry , keeps track of all budgets and savings , knows every nook and cranny of the house and is happy being a house-husband for you. kita buys the best clothing softener and detergent , is a man of his words for if he promises breakfast in bed for you then you get it.

he sets up the house according to a taste that suits him and you like almsot all the time after seeing it on pinterest — yes HE HAS PINTEREST and you can't change my mind — cooks the best meals like you're in heaven to be eating such delicious meals , laundry is done and the house smells like lavander and you don't know how he does that and he keep it a secret ( it's just him using scented house cleaning stuff ).

grocery shopping is done with you because it's to lonely for him to go out so it's shopping time on the weekends , he is like a stay at home mum but you love him and for god sake who wouldn't want a man like KITA SHINSUKE.

— ୨୧ ˖ ˚ YAMAGUCHI TADASHI !

you enter the house with the smell of the most delicious food being cooked and when I say delicious , it's over the top delicious. he loves cooking so much that he forgets he has to clean as well and do laundry. yamaguchi almost does everything before stepping into the kitchen and prepare a bento for you in the early morning with starting to think for dinner — even though lunch is not even thought out yet — and what to be baked when your home.

it may not seem like but he has a passion for baking good for you.

he blasts playlist made for him by you and tsukki , and does the cleaning and laundry because sometimes it's to lonely in the house , he keeps track of time and when you're gonna come so he could prepare a bubble bath and then start with the cooking so you could have been relaxed and come eat with him.

when it's a weekend , he wakes up late but the breakfast is in his hands to be cooked , and in the evening it's time for him and you to have a baking session and you cherish this baby more than anything.

NOIRFLMS 2024 ! all rights reserved - plagiarism is a crime , do not translate my works without permission.

[wordsarelife]

—miss americana and the heartbreak prince

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader

summary: headcanons about mattheo dating a foreign exchange student from america

you're there during your fifth year

mattheo first notices you, when pansy brings you along to a hangout with the group

"this is y/n" your friend pansy introduced. the boys in front of you seemed friendly enough, if a bit arrogant. "hey" you smiled. one of them, a boy with curly hair and lovely dimples, made space beside him. "i'm mattheo" he introduced himself, before he pointed to the other boys, telling you their names one by one.

you quickly become a part of the group of slytherins. it is exciting being friends with them. mattheo is the most interested in you. he often asks you things about your home.

you introduce him to american slang or books you read, while he tells you about the english culture.

he often tells you that he loves your accent, but his is one of the prettiest you ever heard.

when a care package from home arrives, you share all the snacks with your friends. they're amazed when you introduce them to things they never heard about before.

during your time at hogwarts you and mattheo grow even closer, sneaking out at night to go on late night walks, until he eventually kisses you one night.

you start dating at that point.

he often calls you typical british pet names of endearment like darling or love, which makes your heart beat fast everytime. you call him honey or babe and you noticed his cheeks reddening before.

sometimes your american slang leads to funny misconsumptions that would take a while to break up

you can never agree on how to drink tea. mattheo is not as passionate as the average british person and still offended at the way you drink it

despite his rebellious nature, mattheo finds himself studying more because you insist on it. you have cozy study sessions in the library, where he often gets distracted by your presence and playful banter.

mattheo becomes fiercely protective of you, especially when other students gossip or when you face challenges adapting to the new environment. he’s always ready to stand up for you, no matter what. you face some prejudice from students who disapprove of your relationship.

you often leave each other little messages and notes, writing cute things or how something reminded you of the other

as the school year ends, you both promise to continue your relationship and talk as much as possible, either using letters or the floo network or simply telephones.

you both leave an everlasting effect on each other. you teach mattheo to be more empathetic and a lot calmer as he tries to regulate his emotions before acting. he teaches you to take risks and not take life so seriously all the time.

your farewell is pretty sad, but also quite sweet as you both tell each other that you love them.

mattheo and you stay in contact and despite many people not believing you will make it, reunite during the holidays.

despite your relationship still working great you miss mattheo, your friends and hogwarts deeply, so you decide to come back during your senior year (at that point you had been dating for more than a year)

mattheo is incredibly surprised and happy as you tell him the news and going back to hogwarts feels like coming home after a long vacation.

mattheo and your friends are there waiting for you, making you feel like you never left at all.

[dailyakira]

home is where the heart is ft. tooru oikawa

gn! reader

a/n: hi guys! it's been a while since i've wrote a ff, so forgive me if it isn't that good. i've been fixating on haikyuu ever since the movie!! also this is not grammar checked.. i wrote this within an hour at 2 AM!!!

warnings: a bit angsty, tooth rotting fluff at a certain point, i forgot how to write, oikawa is sad and yearning, oikawa is scared to come back home, childhood friends to exes to something else?, tears are shed, please don't cringe i will cry

oikawa inhaled the familiar cool breeze surrounding him. he hadn't been in japan for years due to his hectic volleyball schedule. he was lucky enough to fly back for a short break before his season started again in a few months.

a wave of homesickness hit oikawa the second he landed. the memories of his mundane lifestyle in japan compared to his ever-changing way of life in argentina had shocked him.

oikawa wrapped his scarf around his neck tighter as snowflakes scattered from the skies. the delicate crystallized flakes began to litter his chestnut colored hair.

he hadn't told anyone that he was back in japan - oikawa felt no need to celebrate his arrival. he had burned too many bridges while chasing his dreams. arguments out of pure pettiness had ended relationships that he could never repair.

whenever oikawa thinks of japan, he thinks of you.

his dearest childhood bestfriend, who could never leave his side. until of course, he left for argentina without much of a say from you.

the only person he could say he loved, even through numerous flings and failed relationships.

he blames his fiery passion that became suffocating to be near. he blames his refusal to change his behavior. he blames every part of himself for driving you away.

because when he thinks of airports, he can't help but wander back to the memory of you not showing up to see him off. when he's gifted an alien keychain as a gag gift, he thinks of the two of you at ten years old, staring into the sky all night attempting to spot a flying saucer.

being back in his home country opens new wounds that he's tried to heal over and over. he wanted to enjoy his time off season without any worries.

his shoes tapped against the concrete evenly as he began to approach the convenience store. oikawa had left his hotel room earlier to clear his mind, and the only thing that could put him at peace was a slice of milkbread.

he hoped to go unnoticed, since he heavily disliked wearing an obnoxious disguise that would make him stand out even more. still, he raised the hood of his maroon sweatshirt over his head. oikawa desired some semblance of anonymity.

the bell clanged against the door loudly as oikawa quickly avoided the front of the store. he observed the vast selection of packaged milk bread loaves, before deciding on his usual choice brand.

he sauntered towards the beverage isle in curiosity and ended up settling for a bottled green tea to pair with his bread. he had never been a fan of green tea, but you had made it for him consistently after his practices to 'calm his nerves.' a tiny smile stretched onto his face as he thought back fondly.

he wanted to head home and collapse in his bed. the jetlag refused to leave him without a good night's sleep. after making sure he was satisfied with his choices, he walked up to the counter.

with his head down, he placed the items in front of the cashier. they scanned his items while he shuffled in the pocket of his pants for his wallet.

oikawa lifted his head slightly, comparing his money to the price shown on the register. he placed the money on the counter, not bothering to pay attention to the cashier.

he turned to leave and quickly get back to his hotel.

"i thought you hated green tea?" an easily recognizable voice remarked behind him.

he felt his heart drop as a lump began to form in his throat. out of anyone he could've ran into on his first night back, it had to be you? he contemplated putting on a brave face and telling you how he felt all these years or running out of the store just to avoid you.

he decided on the former, quickly turning around to face you. his breath paused as he looked at you for the first time in years. oikawa remembers you being beautiful before, but you had changed entirely.

you looked like you were crafted by the gods themselves.

the blush inched on his face as he tried to find the words to say. he had never been this anxious in his life. you looked at him with a puzzled expression as he continued to gape at you.

"i was... came home... off season...you're gorgeous?" he spoke in gibberish since he was unable to formulate his thoughts.

you laughed at his words as he stared at you with a stunned face, trying to determine whether or not you were real. you decided to ignore his shock and ask him about himself.

"how has your professional career been going? i heard you went to the olympics!" you gushed as he embarrassedly nodded along. you ignored your unpleasant past with him and continued with the formalities.

"i was glad to represent argentina in the olympics. going abroad to play volleyball was one of the greatest decisions i could've made."

oikawa sighs as he continues on.

"i still regret it, you know? arguing with you and leaving our relationship on bad terms. i think about it all the time. you inspired me to keep improving everyday. i'm so sorry for leaving.."

silence echoes throughout the store as he finishes his thoughts. you cut him off, beginning to explain your faults.

"i should've came to the airport. i knew that you were leaving, but i held a grudge." the regrets spilled out of you as the two of you continued to think about your every decision.

oikawa blinked away tears that formed in the corners of his eyes. he had missed you more than he could comprehend. there hadn't been enough words in his language to express how much he cared about you.

a few tears escaped his eyes, rolling down his cheeks. you leaned forward, wiping away the stray tears from his face. you softly grasped his jaw with a gentle smile.

"i've regret letting you go for years. you mean so much to me, tooru."

oikawa grins elatedly at you as he stares back into the comfort of your gaze. he could never get tired of this feeling.

the security of your embrace, the jokes that only you would laugh at, your support of his passion, your fixation on romance movies that you force him to watch with you, the longing gaze you send him whenever you're apart, and his overwhelming love for you.

there was nowhere else he'd rather be than with you.

whenever tooru thinks of home, he thinks of you.

[moo-blogging]

Hello! How are you? I have a request, if that's okay, thug/underground Levi trying to find a ring to propose to reader, when he does reader accepts but gives him a huge secret she's been hiding from him (like she has royal blood or something, idk 😅)

HAVE A GOOD,AMAZING AND BEAUTIFUL DAY! - 🎵🍍

Who would have thought that the infamous Levi would be looking everywhere to get a ring? An engagement ring to be exact. He never realised that there were hardly any jewelry sold in the Underground.

He even resolved to ask the prostitutes where they got their jewelries. Mostly were given by rich merchants from the surface and others traded from other prostitutes. "Tch!" He said as he chewed his lower lips, thinking about a solution.

it was about 2 years ago that Levi met you. You were wearing close to nothing, sitting by a leaky pipe, cleaning yourself up. You had cut your hair yourself, but hurt your left ear in the process. Blood was oozing from the wound.

"You'll get an infection if you use the water," Levi's cold voice echoed through the quiet alley. Instantly, you grabbed the pair of rusty scissors you stole to defend yourself. You stared into Levi's eyes, predicting his actions but all you could see was a guy with silverish blue eyes.

He dropped a bag of medication on the floor, along with his vest. He walked away, keeping a distance so you could retrieve it. he stood by the entrance of the alley, watching out for you. It took you sometime to move toward the package. You found a bottle of pungent disinfectant and bandage and you wrapped your wound clumsily. You slid into his vest and to your surprise, it fitted.

You were ready to give yourself to him, just like most of the guys you met in your life. Instead, he took you home and introduced you to Farlan and Isabelle.

Levi knew he could get any girl he wanted because the girls basically threw themselves at him. But with you, he was uncertain. You introduced him into the tea business. You could differentiate the tea by grades just by smelling and looking at the colours. And you had taught him how to brew the perfect tea. Levi fell in love with you slowly. The nights you spent brewing tea together, moving boxes containing tea leave during late night storms, and keeping watch of premium tea leaves before its delivery.

On the night when you were lost between tall boxes of tea leaves, Levi kissed you in the shadows. Your shoulders raised in surprised and your eyes widened. But Levi had his eyes shut tightly as he pressed into your lips. You exhaled after holding your breath, and when you inhaled, you took him into your lungs and you calmed down. Gently, you closed your eyes and leaned in, kissing him back. You had fallen for him on the first day you met. A gentleman who rescued you.

After making a deal with the blacksmith, Levi harvested mineral stones using his gears and had him made into a ring. Levi was awestruck when he collected the ring. It was an iron ring dotted with different colours of mineral stones. The handiwork was not perfect, but it was perfect for you.

That night, Levi proposed to you privately in the bedroom. He didn't want to cause any unwanted attention. You eyes lit up and you said yes. With shaky hands, Levi slid the ring into your finger. You hugged and kissed each other passionately.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get you a nicer ring," Levi brushed your hair off your forehead. You shook your head and looked at the ring again.

"I have seen a lot of shiny things, but none was mine." You looked at Levi lovingly, "You gave me my first jewelry."

And you told him where you came from. You were the child of an Asian mother and the prince. Someone presented your mother, who was kidnapped, to the prince. Months later, your mother was pregnant and sent away to a tea farm, where you were born and raised. It wasn't until the kidnappers found out that your mother was alive and had you, you wouldn't had known you had royal blood. Your mother died trying to save you, but you were brought to the Underground, awaiting for your new fate.

When the time was right, you escaped. You threw away your clothes as you ran and stole a pair of scissors. And the rest was history.

Levi was stunned as you talked about your childhood. You thought he would get mad at you. But Levi pulled you into his arms, holding you tight against his chest.

"Don't you ever worry now, y/n," he kissed the side of your head, "now give me names and I will make some friends soon."

[castleofclouds]

Nct Dreams as your neighbors

In which you lived next door to dreamies, and your life as dreamies neighbor.

MARK

Mark is part of the frat line, so it's no wonder living next to him isn't the easiest, he would held couple of party every weekend so be sure to have plenty of earplugs in your house!

Mark is a part of a band, he love playing guitar in the middle of the day or making songs at night

He ALWAYS sends you late night drunk text and send so many praises about you and how you can handle living next to him for years even though he always loud and such

He is a good reminder and sometimes leaves a note in front of your door, something about always be happy and always taking care of your meals

He often times asked you to company him with hangovers meals that he bought or you bought

He loves greetings you every morning before going to his band meetings or class.

RENJUN

Renjun was obviously different than any neighbor you could think off, he is silent most of the times, sometimes you wonder if there's even someone lived next door

Renjun is a nocturnal, you never see him in the morning but he always bought something late at night every time you went to the store you always stumble upon him buying some tea or even some beer

He loves drawing, or pottery, any kind of art you could think off, you always surprise when you found a letter on your doorstep and found it to be a envelope of invitation to his art exhibits

He sometimes asked you simple favour like sugar and salts and leave with a cute drawing of you on your door step

The only time he would be loud was when his friends come you never knew Renjun could be so passionate about something sometimes

Renjun is simpler and easiest to lived with, and he always leaved a cute art pieces in front of your doorstep everytime he heard you cried from next door, one time he left you an origami made into a stars and put inside a jar on your doorstep with a little note saying “cheer up”.

JENO

Jeno loves waking up in the morning and always had different activities everyday that he even included you in, he sometimes asked you to go biking at 8 AM in the morning

Jeno loves working out you often hear a sound of a instructor telling about how to do some exercise

He love buying things online sometimes you could see a lot of package in front of his mailbox and doorstep

Due to his good looks and personalities he had many girls asking him around sometimes he even asked you to not giving those girls information that you lived next door to him

Jeno always find something fun to do he often includes you in his hobbies, and he is actually a pretty decent person the more you see him

He loved TALKING most people doesn't know that because he often prefer listen than talking but with you he loved telling you about his days both online or face to face, he sometimes left a bucket of flowers on your mailbox as a thanks to listening to him.

HAECHAN

Haechan is often mistaken, he loves talking a lot and some people would probably thinking he loved to host parties in his house turn out it wasn't always that, one day he can be calm but ofc there's a catch to it he would just ended up hang out with his friends at his apartment and it will be loud

Haechan love playing any kind of instrument sometimes, he sometimes played guitar in the middle of the night, and sometimes had a bicker or two with you after you asked him to tone it down

Haechan doesnt like to be told, so both of you often bicker one another, either him about how you always snitch on him to the landlord or you about his loud sound of gaming PC

Haechan could spend DAYS locked up in his house with no sunlight because he is busy playing games

On some days where he isn't being a dick, he loved to asked you out on a date. Yes. A date. Because he apparently love spending time with you and he often asked you out on food trip and trying many kind of food

He always send you some messages at weird time in the middle of the night with odd tmi about some stuff the you never even heard off.

JAEMIN

Jaemin is nothing but a princess, he showered you with love and understand you to the back of your bone

Jaemin loved cooking on some occasional day and he would always asked you to eat with him, he would always asked your opinion on his cooking and it's always a paradise

Jaemin loved praises you every time you go out, either about your make up, your outfit even little things like necklace or new earrings that you wore

Jaemin is romantic on many parts he loves sending you chocolate on valentines and cookies on christmas

He loved taking you on sightseeing and even asked you as his model on some of his photos, that he always send you every day and pick his favourite pick and would put it on his fridge and called it his favorite pic of the day

He loved showing you his cats and even go out his way and let you take care of them when he is busy with on his clinics, he often addressed you as “the mother of his cats”

CHENLE

To be having Chenle as your neighbor is a MANACE, that man is Evil, he always had so many loud noises coming from his house, it's probably because he is busy watching basketball tournament at fucking 2 am in the morning while you were asleep

It's not love. It's obsession that he has for basketball, he could names a every each of basketball player even if he held accountable

He make basketball as his personality at this point other than that, you always wondered if he had something wrong with his eyes due to his weird behavior of wearing glasses everywhere, like we get it man you want to look cool and such

The only time you actually like him was probably his daughter, daegal Is an angel compared to his dad, daegal is sweet and nothing but a puppy with wings on her back you could spend DAYS with daegal if Chenle allowed it

He often take you to his basketball match or just to watch him playing basketball, sometimes he looked cool sometimes he doesn't especially if he start saying some weird slang that you don't even know existed before he threw a ball

He just love talking and having fun, he loves socializing and sometimes take you to meet some of his friends and it was all good again.

JISUNG

Sometimes you wonder if you ever even gotten a neighbor or not because the neighbor next door only wake up at 1 am in the night and playing games that you didn't even knew he could

Despite that jisung are actually very popular in your campus and had plenty of attention from the girls but unfortunate for them the boy couldn't talk with them for SHITS, he is suck at it so much one time he just straight up running away from each of them

Weirdly he thinks you are actually fine, he could spend sometimes with you, and he didn't stutter or run away when you make eye contact with him

He had so many to take care off, he often asked you small favor like sugar and salt, or how he is so clumsy and often forget his keys that he just sometimes crashed at your house like it's his

He cannot cook for shits. And he knew it. And he had bigger anxiety to keep ordering them online so sometimes you just asked him to eat with you in your house

He often asked you to match with him on games and always act like he is a pro player and often said “don't worry I won't let them hurt you” that you just cringe and laugh into.

A/N

Hi!! Cassie hereee, wow it's feels good to finally write something at least, I tried to make this into those fake chat scenario but my tab are such a hassle to get worked into so I just give up😞 anyway what do we sayy?? do we finally feel more energetic and start writing more, and I'm kinda short on ideas my head is drier than desert anyway have fun!

[simping-overload]

ᴏᴍ ʙᴏʏꜱ & ʀᴜʙʙᴇʀ ᴅᴜᴄᴋꜱ

a/n: in ref to this anon that was about this post about hh luci and his rubber ducks. I'm sorry I couldnt resist writing this LMAO.

characters: lucifer, mammon, leviathan, asmodeus, beelzebub

tags: DUCKS, crack, no reader pronouns or gender mentioned other then the word 'you', shopping, rubber duck dads, sfw

ʟᴜᴄɪꜰᴇʀ

↠has a locked desk drawer filled with rubber ducks. no one can open buthim

↠no one, and I mean no one knows about the ducks, not until you stumbled in on him taking one out the drawer when you were bringing him tea

↠the silence was so loud. before you could make an escape, he forced you in with his magic and swore you to secrecy.

↠his ducks are very special to him. If you insult them in his presence, you will be seen hanging upside on the ceiling of the hall for the rest of the week.

ᴍᴀᴍᴍᴏɴ

↠he prides himself on his duck collection he's an avid collector, too.

↠can be found visiting the duck store more than once but—he always claims he's getting them for you. and not the other way around. even if you gotten here after the collection started

↠he likes to take you with him too, so he can stop rubber duck shopping in secrecy or online(he's been scammed more then once)

↠if you yourself have your own collection, you HAVE to show him. but don't let him around them otherwise, or else you'll never get them back.

ʟᴇᴠɪᴀᴛʜᴀɴ

↠also a avid collector BUT only of ruri-chan edition rubber ducks

↠he has every. single. one. all the limited time ones, the holidays, any that for whatever reason was recalled-best believe he has everyone. he's very passionate about his ruri-chan rubber ducks.

↠he mainly keeps his ducks in their packaging, having them stacked next to his ruri-chan figures. though there's a few that are out of the package and places throughout the room.

↠if he ever gets the chance he will be getting personalized rubber ducks for you, henry, amd himself. also PLEASE take him rubber duck shopping in the human world.(and yes he bathes with them.)

ꜱᴀᴛᴀɴ

↠he's not a active collector but if he sees a cat themed duck best believe he will buy it.

↠if you happen to have a rubber duck collection yourself he wouldn't mind hearing you talk about it or showing him it. he encourages it actually.

↠he lovesssss hearing you geek out about your ducks, if he finds one he thinks you'll like he'd totally get it for you.

↠no one aside for you knows about the ducks. he'd like to keep it that way.

ᴀꜱᴍᴏᴅᴇᴜꜱ

↠also not an avid collector, the only ones he'd have are of himself and you.

↠he thinks they're super cute though, if you were to ever give him a rubber duck best believe he'd cherish it for the rest of time.

↠if you ever wanted he'd totally do the ducks makeup & paint on their outfits(I hc him as an artist:3) when you show these on your gram the comments are flooded with praises that have him puffing out his chest proud.

↠if given the opportunity I think he'd totally make bank off of these, he wouldn't mind doing a commison or two but he'd rather keep them home for you instead.

ʙᴇᴇʟᴢᴇʙᴜʙ

↠is not allowed near the ducks unsupervised

↠he once got curious of what it would taste like and ate one, right in front of you.

↠he felt super bad and apologized. to make up for he'd ordered you more and left the box field with rubber ducks by your door.

↠he likes hearing you talk about the rubber ducks. just don't let him near any/keep them locked away.

[wareagleofthemountain]

Yule ❄️

A/N: Before anyone comes for me in the comment section… yes I know it’s June. But I’m trying to clean out my WIP folder and this is what I got for now. Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Prince Nuada x fem!elf reader

The snow flurried outside, falling atop the roof in soft pitter-patters which was drown out by the crackling fire beside you. You had made a nest on the couch, complete with silken cushions stolen from King Balor’s study and one of Princess Nuala’s soft, heavy blankets. In your hand was a mug of hot tea, and your pointed ears folded back slightly as you relaxed further.

“Well, don’t you look as cozy as a bug in a rug there.” Nuala smiled fondly as she entered the sitting room. “I made these delightful cookies called gingerbread men. Found the recipe in a human cookbook my father had collecting dust on his shelves. Apparently it’s a tradition this time of year. You must try one!”

She held the steaming tray out to you, Nuada reaching over her shoulder and swiping one only to bite its head clean off.

Of course

“The human looks much better this way.” Nuada smirked, holding out the decapitated cookie.

Nuala squeaked in horror, eyes wide. “Oh stop it you beast!”

You laugh, taking a cookie for yourself and humming in satisfaction as it melted in your mouth.

“How are you my love?” Nuada’s voice is smooth as he slides in beside you on the couch, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. A smile lights up your face and you nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck.

“Better now that you’re here…” You mumble into his soft skin, sighing happily as you breathe in his scent, a faint mixture of pine and subtle notes of the tangy substance he used to polish his weapons. “I’m so happy to spend our first Yule here together….” Your voice is wistful as you watch the falling snow.

Nuada’s eyes are fixed on you, admiring the way your golden hair shines in the fire light. He takes your hand in his and brings it to his lips softly. “As am I. I…” His cheeks flushed and his voice trailed off, much like a boy with his first crush. “I have something for you.”

“Oh?” You shake your head slightly. “Nuada, you didn’t have to. I already told you that spending the holiday with you was enough.”

Your voice was earnest, insistent, but Nuada stops your protests by gently cradling your face in his large palms. “Hush, my light. I want to do this.” The Prince kisses your forehead before reaching into the pocket of his robe and pulling out a blue box neatly wrapped in a yellow ribbon. “In honor of our first Yule. The first of many, my love.”

You take the package in trembling hands, breath catching as you open it and see the golden bracelet inside. There were two elegantly crafted charms dangling from the arm band; two golden leaves meant to symbolize you and Nuada.

“It’s beautiful!” You cry out, flinging your arms around his neck and kissing him passionately. Nuada’s hand came up to cup the back of your neck to deepen the kiss, leaving you sighing blissfully.

“Here.” He clasped the bracelet onto your arm and pulled you in again. “Regretfully, dearest, we must go. Father’s hosting a feast in the main banquet hall and I promised him I wouldn’t let Mr. Wink eat all of the pie.”

You giggle as he pulls you up. “Good luck with that one. Hey, maybe there’ll be more gingerbread humans there eh?”

Nuada scoffs and you laugh harder. Merry Yuletide indeed.

[n0tamused]

Broken Memories

Genre: angst

A/N: More older stuff to post, hope you all enjoy. I did a quick proofread but knowing me I'll just say that there still may be some grammar mistakes :p

Lofty clouds sail over the Xianzhou Lofu, welcoming some distant warmth to befall the people after what felt like years and years worth of rain. Fresh air brings in the freshness which the rain left behind, feeling like a new slate of paper ready to be written on, but Blade just watches on in solemn silence. Tendrils of pain and ache make its way through his body in steady, continuous waves, not letting him relax, but not letting him move either. For him, only the present moment exists, and in a twisted way he is forced to accept it. His life knows no end, so he makes scarce peace with the present.

Remembrance of days already long and gone make their way to his head, when white locks fell down his back instead of raven black, and when he had friends to speak off, company to talk to, and dreams to dream about. In the long faded and broken memories he sees himself, Yingxing, strike a hot piece of metal over and over again until he gets it to the desired dimensions. Deft hands grab onto the pincers and tools and a bucket of cold water to mend the metal, and the process flows on effortlessly under his watchful gaze. Yingxing feels even more anxiety pool in his chest unlike he usually feels, his gaze fixated on carving the blade to have a more intricate design - this was no ordinary blade in the end, made to be given to some soldier or some higher up as compensation, no - it was a gift. It had to be perfect. Beyond perfect.

The dagger was curved and elegant, and in his hands it demonstrated to perfect balance between the point and hilt, and many little details were put into it in colors of gold and rose gold, your favorite gemstones, your favorite color in the leather grip, your favorite shapes, and about anything else he could incorporate into the dagger without overthrowing its aesthetic and its practical use. It shines beautifully under the pale sunlight, the rain clouds drifting away after days worth of rain. Yingxing smiles at his work, lifting it up above his head until he sees the reflection of his own eyes in the blade, full of mirth and under one eye there’s a smudge of charcoal. He can’t help the pride that makes his chest swell, and neither can he afford to wait for the following day to give it to you. So he makes quick work of packaging the blade and following the narrow roads, searching the entire city until he finds you and just gives the gift to you right then and there, in broad daylight with little introduction. Red paper is wrapped around the wooden box, not in the most skilled way, but in a caring way, and he relishes in the compliments you rain down upon him when he explains what it is, or even why he gave it to you. For once he feels really seen. His life-long mission is for once cast aside in favor of admiring this little side quest he ventured upon. And he feels like he could throw everything away if it meant seeing your joy every day. That evening you have invited him back to your home, served him tea and shared your events of the day, along with more passionate comments about the gifted dagger. 

Blade sighs, remembering your smile, your face, and he remembers how different it now looks in his distorted memories. He is forgetting.. He knows the face he sees in his memories is not the one he knew, he feels it in his bones and in his blackened heart. There is just something missing. The visage of his eyes can’t focus on your face nor the details of your clothes or your hands when they gripped his.

The broken dagger in his lap is unfixable - Yingxing is no longer here to mend it as before. Blade can only hold onto the essence of its memories until the whole world goes dark, and that says plenty of his grief and regret. His chin tilts down to look at the dagger, his finger jabbing at the broken blade as if it was a foreign object to him, something extra terrestrial, as if he didn’t pour his heart into it decades before. Perhaps he did pour his all into it, maybe that’s why the dagger followed the same fate as he did, as the smith poured a piece of his soul into his art. He can only hope the dagger does not represent you.. he hopes you’re out there, somewhere, happy, healthy, alive..

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[dreamsgazer]

Getting Sick and Getting Better

Reader gets sick. Tangerine takes care of her!

Minors DO NOT INTERACT.

Also, reblogs and comments and kudos are GREATLY appreciated.

--->--->--->--->--->--->--->--->--->--->--->--->--->--->--->--->--->--->--->--->

“Would you fucking just lay down?” Tangerine practically snarls, his cockney accent stronger than ever. It always makes an appearance in full force when he is stressed.

He seems very much stressed out now, you yawn, while he pushes a rebel curl away from his reddened face. You would laugh if you weren’t feeling as sick as you are sure you look. One of the deadliest assassins in the world – the one who did the Bolivian job, the one who was fished out from the wreckage of a Japanese train with a bullet in his neck, the one that after finding his twin convinced him to be back at work less than two months after his very, very near-death experience – one of them was fretting because you got a fever.

Granted, it sucks. You rarely get sick, but when it happens, you subscribe the full package: nausea, fever, bones turned into splinters inside your limbs. It is a mess, and to make everything worse, you don't seem able to hold anything in your stomach.

After the third time in two hours that you visited the toilet on wobbly legs to give back to the planet your cup of tea, Tangerine has taken the reins of the situation, ignoring your protests. He called – screamed – for his doctor to come and visit you right away. You can’t be sure, but the words “firing you and then setting your studio on fire” were possibly growled.

The doctor has told the two of you exactly what you told your very worried, very handsome boyfriend: you simply need to rest, stay hydrated, and take some paracetamol.

“Told you, T,” you have coughed as soon as you were again alone with him. You have tried to get up and go in search of a box of paracetamol, prompting him to …  firmly invite you to lay down.

At the beginning of your relationship, you had been a tad hurt by his manners. It has taken a bit to understand that Tangerine cares for the people he loves with ferocious passion and stubborn, twisted tenderness.

He looks at you, your head peeking out from under the mountain of blankets he has insisted to wrap you in “Sorry,” he mutters rubbing a hand over his eyes with a sigh “I’ll fetch the medicine for you, alright, love?”

You nod, grateful. It’s a welcomed change to have someone looking after you.

He helps you to drink a bit of water, and you make an effort not to wince while trying to swallow the pill. It really hurts your throat, and he can sense it.

Tangerine helps you to lie down again and presses a kiss to your burning and sweaty forehead. You want to cry at the tenderness he displays, and when he looks at you, he grimaces, misunderstanding your emotion “That bad, darling?”.

You shake your head and whispers words of gratitude and affection for his presence, words that make his chest tighten with love and fury. Love for you, who has decided for whatever miracle to let him in your life, in your bed, and in your heart. Fury remembering how badly you must have been threatened to be moved by something as trivial as having him offering you a cup of water when you lay sick and helpless.

You haven’t talked much about your past. He knows you have family and he’s aware that some of those relationships are complicated to say the least. You haven’t told him a lot, yes, but he has lived enough and seen enough to understand that something has gone very wrong.

However, he seems to decide that the past can go fuck itself. You need him now; he can get angry at your family later.    

You cough a bit, making him sigh. Of course, your throat hurts, it has been two days that your lungs wouldn’t give you a break.

He sits next to you, gently rubbing your shoulder “Do you think you can eat something?”.

You think about it carefully, chewing your lip. During on of your first dates, you had confessed him it bothers you so much to bite your lip when you are thinking.

“Why?” he had asked, with a smirk, comfortably laying on his chair. You had shrugged “It makes me look childish, I guess.”

“I think it makes you look sexy,” had been his smooth reply. You had blushed, hard. His smirk had grown bigger. On anyone else you would have found it insufferable, but on him?

His smirk had made you want to crawl over the table and stick your tongue in his mouth. Which you did as soon as you were back in his lavish car, by the way, and later that night he – always the gentleman – had reciprocated sticking his tongue in your cunt.

While you are reviving your delightfully indecent memories, Tangerine seems lost in thought “I can’t cook shit” he mutters to himself, rubbing his forehead “but I’m gonna order something from The Terrace.”

He brought you there during your very first date. It is his favourite restaurant in London.

Classy enough not to have chairs but little, shockingly comfortable velvety armchairs, and quiet enough that you can hear the gentle piano music playing in the background, and leather covered menus that don’t specify how much those dishes with complicated names cost.  

You still remember how much you two chatted that evening. How much you wanted him to kiss you senseless – which he did as soon as you two stepped out from the restaurant, pinning you against a wall, releasing months of pent-up pining.

“Do you think they make broth there?” you inquire. He shrugs “ ‘ bet that if I pay them well enough they are gonna cook pretty much anything.”

“You know, I think I can manage to get up and make some broth,” you try again.  His glare stops further suggestions “Nonsense. You are sick, pet, and sick people should stay in bed and let their partner take care of them.”.

You want to reply that you don’t want for him to spend so much energy or money over you, but he huffs, frowning “Jesus Christ, you are almost as bad as I am! Lay down, would you? And then I will read something for you. If you behave,” he tuts sternly, pressing another quick kiss on your forehead.

You smile at those words. He rarely offers to read aloud, not because he doesn’t like having your full attention, but because reading for someone else is possible the only thing that makes him slightly conscious of his accent.

The afternoon it clicked for you that something so trivial was bothering him – You are not going to understand half of the words, love, trust me! Better if you read it on your own! – was the afternoon you spent telling him how charming you thought his accent was. Not that he has ever admitted he is unsure about it. Like you never said out loud you were scared he was going to run for the hills the moment he was going to see you naked, rolls and stretch marks on full display.

Some things, even if unspoken, come clear with time and require kind words, and tenderness, and affection. Sometimes, they require silence. 

You sleep a bit while he calls the restaurant, and he gently wakes you up entering your bedroom with a massive tray. His broad shoulders and tall frame occupy your visual in such a perfect way that it seems completely normal to have Tangerine in your bedroom, insisting on spoon feeding you, sitting on the edge of the bed, close enough that you can smell his rich cologne.

The broth smells delicious as well, actually, and you have managed to convince him you are weak, but not on your deathbed. He lets you eat by yourself but surveys your movements like a hawk, ready to intervene in case of need.

“It’s really tasty,” you sighed happily, slowly sipping it from your spoon. He beams with pride as if he has been the one to cook it. You can’t help but reciprocate his smile.  

“I will feel better soon,” you promise, taking another sip “you won’t have to take care of me for much longer, I swear.”

He gently wraps a hand on the back of your neck, his blue eyes staring right into your heart “Tired of me already, love?”

You huff a laugh, gently pressing your forehead against his “I will never be tired to have you in my bedroom, Tangerine.”

He grins even if your joke is pathetic, and you continue, more serious “I just don’t want to waste the time we have together before you and Lemon have to leave again.”

Tangerine nods. You know he disagrees this is a waste of time, but he also understands that is not easy for you to let him go to his missions.

You will probably never voice that aloud. When you understood what he does for a living and who he is, he had given you the choice to waltz out of his life.

A chance you had refused without a second thought. A chance you still refuse with all your strength.

It doesn’t mean it’s easy. But god, you think kissing the tip of his nose and making him chuckle, it’s so worth it.  

[meetinginsamarra]

mayprompts2024, #29 hero

Chapters 1 to 5 here on AO3

If you like the tattoo AU give it some love on my AO3, please. It would mean a lot to me. TYSM!

+++++

White Pony Tattoo - Part Nine (hero)

John turned around to head for the next bus stop, not knowing if he would even be able to get there. Taking a step and moving away from the tattoo shop seemed impossible. The weight of the world was crushing down on his shoulders and the outlook of not seeing Sherlock for at least a week cut deep into his chest and right into his heart.

The connection I’ve felt, being with Sherlock. Now that it’s gone, I almost feel sick.

John rubbed his eyes and sighed heavily.

Dear God, I think I’ve fallen for him. Fuck. Not just his looks, which are top notch of course, no, it’s the whole package of his personality. Even if he is a real dick at times. I can’t help it.

And yet, I’m wondering.

Did he feel it, too? He practically glowed down there in the lab, speaking to me, showing off his equipment. My appreciation of what he has achieved made him incandescent.

But does he like me back? As a person, as John Watson, the whole package I come with? Or was he just happy to have an audience that applauded his every move? To be forgotten as soon as I’m gone and out of his sight?

The gloomy thoughts clogged John’s brain and rendered him unable to walk away, condemning him to oscillate on the pavement in front of the shop.

“Oh, hello dear. You must be John?”

John was so preoccupied by his musings that he jumped badly when a woman’s voice suddenly adressed him.

“Erm, yes?”

Looking into the direction the voice had come from, John registered a frail but distinguished looking old lady. She had just sat down two heavy looking bags with groceries and held a bunch of keys in her hand. A large golden number dangled from the main key ring.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. But you looked so forlorn and sad. Sherlock has not rejected you again, or has he?”

“Ah, no, he’ll tattoo me,” John quickly connected the puzzle pieces, “and you must be Sherlock’s landlady.”

“Tch, I forgot to introduce myself properly.” She chuckled and offered her hand. “I’m Martha Hudson. Most of the time I’m more like Sherlock’s housekeeper since he cannot be arsed to do the simplest household chores himself.”

Shaking her hand firmly, John laughed. “That sounds very much like him. Always thinking about ink, is he?”

“Yes, yes. He calls it the INK, written all in capital letters. It’s his greatest passion, he cares for little else.” She unlocked the front door.

This offhand comment struck a chord in John, one whose sound he did not really want to hear again. Doubt. Doubt if Sherlock really cared about him apart from putting INK on his skin. He shook himself mentally, trying to get rid of the anxiety that crept upon him like a feral beast.

“Pleased to meet you. Let me just praise the scones you’ve made. They’ve been the best I ever had.”

Mrs Hudson made a delighted sound. “What a charmer you are!”

“Just telling the truth.” John pointed to the grocery bags. “Can I help you with these?”

“Oh, please, if you don’t mind, dear. When the weather is like this, my bad hip is always acting up.”

John carried the bags into 221A, Mrs Hudson’s flat on the ground floor. He put them onto her kitchen table and was about to leave when she invited him on a cup of tea as a thank you for his help. Like every proper Englishman, John could not refuse.

“Did you know that Sherlock explicitly requested tea and scones for you today?” Mrs Hudson said when she handed John the cup with steaming hot tea, watching his face quizzically.

“No?” The undeniable sly look on her otherwise so friendly and open face caught John a bit on the wrong foot. “I thought it was the usual hospitality he shows to his clients.”

Mrs Hudson outright laughed.

“My dear, he never cares about hospitality. The clients come to him anyway, no matter how rude he behaves. Can you imagine my surprise when he asked me to provide tea and scones for your appointment today?”

She refilled John’s tea cup. “He said I need tea and the best scones you can bake when John comes back. Sherlock even added a please in an afterthought.”

“He was sure I’d come back and acept his offer. He just knew.” John shrugged. “He knew me better than I know myself.”

“Not the point, dear. Sherlock wanted to have tea and scones for you. He wanted to impress you and be nice. You must mean something to him if he goes to such lenghts, don’t you think?” Mrs Hudson winked and grinned.

John wondered if she had adopted this mannerism from Sherlock or if it had been the other way around.

“I don’t know. I’d like to think so.” John decided to be honest with Mrs Hudson. Somehow, he was convinced he could trust her. He added wistfully. “I really wish I would be more to him than just the next canvas to put his INK onto.”

“He’s had a hard time in the past,” Mrs Hudson said, “he doesn’t let people get close to him easily or quickly lowers the protective shield he’s put around his heart.”

“Really?” John wondered. “He seemed pretty open and relaxed when he showed me all the stuff in his ink laboratory in the basement.”

“He what?” Mrs Hudson cried out and jumped up. The hip was not bothering her now, apparently.

“John! He never lets people in there. It’s his sanctum sanctorum. It took four months and constant nagging on my behalf until he let me take a look and I own this house. If he shows it to you just like this, you have to be very special to him already!”

Blissful warmth spread through John’s body. His nerves tingled and his blood sang a dulcet melody full of hope. Could it be that…

John beamed. “Thank you so much for telling me, Mrs Hudson. That he cares about me.”

Suddenly, Mrs Hudson’s posture changed.

She fixated John with ice cold eyes, pinning him on the chair. Steel had replaced every trace of her earlier softness and age-related frailty. She stepped up to John.

“Just to give a you heads-up, you’re not the only person who cares about Sherlock.” Her voice was sharp, quiet and deadly serious. “Or protects him.”

It sent chills running down John’s spine.

Mrs Hudson briefly squeezed John’s shoulder. “If you hurt him, I’ll lace your tea with rat poison. I know a nice lad who is a building contractor and he’ll bury your body somewhere in a concrete slab.”

Theatrical as it might appear, John believed her every word.

And just like this, the fearsome avenging angel that had occupied Mrs Hudson’s body disappeared, leaving the nice old landlady behind.

“Do you want another cup of tea, my dear?” She asked sweetly.

In this moment John decided that Martha Hudson was a true heroine.

++++++

tagging some people @totallysilvergirl @peageetibbs  @lisbeth-kk @raina-at @calaisreno

[turtleneck-crowley]

Wake up babes of the GO fandom turtleneck-crowley just dropped their most recent Magnus Opus🥰🥰🥰

Hey guys I am a eccentric genius artist of the century whose works will probably only be appreciated post mortem (self-diagnosed)

Im also very certain you would all blorbos me if I were a fictional character but alas I am a boring meat package that got birthed out of an afab physiology and thus a sack of mouldy potatoes might have been a more interesting source writing this post. (Pure hubris, part irrational resentment that you are all quite familiar with *cheeky hot wink*)

I happen to own a get out of jail free card called catch 22 which is crafted out of part sarcasm, part idgasinglefgtfoofmyfacei180dmycringethroughyearsofpainandselfrelctionthatim toocoolforyounow public image

(if you actually read that you deserve, well nothing actually except perhaps my condolences and a consensual pat on the back that implies my unlicensed diagnosis that you are in fact, not dyslexic)

Anyhow cracking on back to the sentence *sighs and rolls eyes with you*

(-I mean in the streets, not with you guys, here im babygirl with half a brain cell/true form), part wholesome idiocy, years of experience in masking, part looking presentable, part knowing how society and science and art works and trying to be in tact with my own sense of humanity as much as possible -at least to the point where I’m not breaking any humanitarian law…

And yes bitch the whole eccentric genius /madly passionate or passionately mad paradox catch 22 license holder is you af - want a gold star? ⭐️ (crowley ref) (affectionate banter)

Fact is tumblrinas like to heighten and balance their EQ and IQ agreed?

I’m hyper aware that you guys are smart enough to assess me as going through a manic phase that is on the verge of psychotic-having observed hints of madness in my recent posts deducing via your own experiences that I have gone through a strict diet of coffee, whiskey, smut that Neil Gaiman himself would tear his locks and Sir Terry Pratchett would roll in his grave, finished off with a nice slice of Hozier songs as dessert

(that’s on top of of a yet to be discovered food chain which I call the Antichrist diet footnote: please credit me after I die before my Tesla gets Edisoned

‘Tis actually a great alternative way to invoke a psychedelic experience in substitute of the more expensive and questionably unlawful way that is smoking crack *disclaimer not recommended for the faint hearted or those self-diagnosed as mentally stable)

You are perfectly correct! Here’s another gold star!!! ⭐️

In fact I am currently being yelled by my parents to come downstairs because I need to be dropped off to the asylum while I’m trying to actually do something that gives me joy (Joan of Arc eat your heart out) and I assure you I have eyes and witness my very legs , naked and hairy (and did I mention Im only wearing a slutty black bra and skirt that I wore as a swimming suit AND a pajama and now my back to the looney bin outfit?) leaving a perfectly good soup with baguettes as evidenced here

However, I would like to UNO reverse such a caring notion by giving you a purple heart 💜

and divert you with a fun little clip that displays our para social relationship that I am hoping has deepened through my superficial charm to portray our rendezvous as warm and familiar and human as our beloved Mr. Holmes and Doctor Watson:

No worries, Watson also came with the conslusion that the person he’s engaged with (more like to amiright- not us i mean, them, that’s where the analogy is cut off back into our real identities) is “not human”

Anyhow it might not be your cup of tea but at least hold the mug for a few minutes it’s worth it

Head fic: Gods of Sex and Idiocy

(If anything please see it as a game where we can title it better cause I’m shit at naming things - I call one of my plants Joe)

Hey Good Omens fandom

With the note of:

“who needs sane when you have creative”

-turtleneck-crowley

I have made a meta season 3 in my head and the stars have even sent me a playlist ??? (It’s the only one that seems to be downloaded on my wifi less phone)

Here’s the link:

Check out some of my latest posts

It’s really immersive and otherworldly

Down the rabbit hole and through the mirror you go 🐇🎩🪄

And what if season 1 is the ace route and season 2 is the sexual route so season 3 might be an aro route to defeating the enemy?

Ngk idk idc idgaf

I’m just like phone rn

(side note: why do I have the infinite capacity of taking pains (Sherlock reference) for being a mad artist instead of working on the next big physics formula answer? Good question: I’m actually just an emotional idiot aka sexy trash ✨ that’s addicted to blogging and I wouldn’t trade it for any other praise worthy status in the world 💜)

Honestly guys I sound like a sociopath but I’m really just very pained and fucked royally by circumstance that is too dramatic and gay for anyone except the loonies on tumblr to understand. I’m so disappointed by all this unjust pain and agony of the world- the children, the animals, the environment, the people that I have conditioned myself to display an eloquence so pungent it seems like I’m a cold manipulator. For if I ever showed myself for who I was to them- the judgers, the perverted, the scheming, I would surely be dead either by my own or someone else’s hands. Maybe I’m God and they just like tumblr and good omens and want to eat crepes in peace with the personality they split into 2 -preferably in Paris. Maybe they have been placed all the blame by the enemy and they are powerless to the human condition as you all are by an unknown enemy and is fated to be tortured in anxiety and pain invisible to all and the only infinite power they have is love that bleeds.

But I’ll give you and I both the peace of mind that I am an in fact just a mentally ill human whose life span is between the zones of expiration and fermentation, with a god complex, whom their closest people will never truly know how to care no matter how much they try- and in fact the more they try to help me the more they leave me in my original state- alone.

I leave you (no I’m not killing myself you idiot I’m going to the mental hospital to be molested by nightmares of demons - I literally experience it everyday- as they force me to take my sleeping pills which sinks me deeper into it-oh wait that’s kind of worse lmao) with this favorite piece of classical music of mine

Stay safe yall I love you

[hunterrrs]

Brian Dumoulin may be one of the most interesting men to wear black and gold in quite some time, as he's got so many passions outside of hockey, like travel, food and wine. The 31-year-old shared some of his must-haves, both on and off the ice, at home and on the road.

Wine books, magazines and podcasts

One magazine I've subscribed to that I really like is called Noble Rot. It's from London, where they have two different wine bars and a wine store. I really like the stuff that they write. It's really, really cool.

For podcasts, there hasn't been as many recently. But through the course of like 2010 to 2021, there was a podcast called 'I'll Drink to That!' It's a guy named Levi Dalton. He basically interviews everyone, from people who work in restaurants, winemakers, wholesale distributors - anyone in the wine trade. They talk about how they got into wine. With the winemaking, it can be very technical, where they talk about decisions with the barrels, decisions with when to pick, how their vineyards are different than the other… so it's very intricate. I wouldn't say it's for a beginner (laughs), but it's really good information.

For books, the last one I read is called 'Terrior Footprints' by Pedro Parra. He's sort of an expert. It's a book about wine and how when you blind taste, you kind of taste soil in the glass, and that's a good way to blind taste because you can really pick up different notes if you know where it's grown in.

Grassl universal glasses

I use those normally. I also use Zalto universal glasses for whites, Zalto burgundy glasses for pinots and lighter reds, and Zalto bordeaux glasses for heavier reds

Loose leaf imported tea

I do a lot of green. Lingering Clouds is a green tea that I really like. Then there's Gaba, which is good for after meals, for digestion. That still has a little caffeine, so I don't try to do that towards nighttime. I always have loose leaf chamomile before bed. I'll usually do that around 7-7:30 PM, or I'm going to the bathroom all night (laughs).

Snacks with a bit of a kick

I mean, it's not healthy or anything, but I like salt and vinegar chips. Those get me, my wife too (laughs). We'll have a bag and all of sudden, it's gone. It's easy to finish a whole bag. I also like Smart Sweets sour gummy bears [the green package]. We have them on the team plane.

The stovetop

My favorite kitchen utensil is honestly the stovetop. I like cooking on the stove a lot better, I'd say, just because grilling is a little bit harder to control. I'll do steak on the stovetop, but obviously I'll cook burgers on the grill, and stuff like that. But I like just trying a bunch of different things on the stovetop.

Broom and dustpan

I love to clean and sweep, it's soothing. I like the broom and dustpan. I'm old fashioned. That's all I need.

Beanie

That's just because I don't want to comb my hair. It's just laziness. That's one thing that I'm not into, is clothes. I'm not a clothes guy.

Lacrosse ball

I like to roll out on that for recovery. I really like that, it's easy. It's really good for your legs and your hips, to get into the small little muscles.

michelle giving us what we need: dumo, man of culture

[einsteinsugly]

Some T7S food headcanons!

Hyde and Donna like black coffee.

Jackie only likes coffee if it's the Starbucks kind (aka, with additional flavorings), but otherwise prefers tea.

Hyde and Donna like black licorice. Jackie and Eric prefer strawberry, and Jackie hates black licorice with a burning passion.

Fez and Kelso love pineapple pizza. Jackie thinks it's disgusting. Red and Eric think it's a betrayal to pizza.

Eric's favorite fast food restaurant is KFC. He just loves fast food chicken, okay? He also boasts about McNuggets when they first come out.

For Eric, breakfast food holds a special place in his heart, and he's strangely good at making it.

Donna likes mint flavored everything. Jackie calls her Peppermint Patty.

Donna also really likes nuts. The guys make gross jokes about it, until she shows them she can crack the nuts with her bare hands.

Fez and Donna are the only ones that like grape Jolly Ranchers.

Kelso licks the cream out of the Oreos, and puts the cookies back in the package.

[scotianostra]

On October 2nd 1931 Sir Thomas Lipton, grocer, tea merchant died.

Say the name Lipton, and most people nowadays think of tea, although some of usthat are a certain age will recall the supermarkets. But behind that brand lies the extraordinary story of a rags-to-riches tycoon, self-publicist, philanthropist and sportsman who was honoured as "the world's best loser".

While his father worked in a succession of poorly paid jobs, young Tommy Lipton’s siblings all died in infancy, leaving him as the family’s only son.

Tommy had to leave school aged 13, because his parents needed an extra income to make ends meet. He also attended night school at the Gorbals Youth School. In 1864, he signed up as a cabin boy on a steamer running between Glasgow and Belfast and seems to have been taken with crew-members’ stories about the United States, so in 1865, Thomas used his savings to pay for a passage to New York spending the next five years there travelling across the country.

During this time he held many different jobs, including work at a tobacco plantation in Virginia; as an accountant at a rice plantation in South Carolina; as a door-to-door salesman in New Orleans; as a farmhand in New Jersey; and as a grocery assistant in New York.

Thomas returned to Glasgow in 1870. After spending some time helping his parents at their shop, he established one of his own, Lipton’s Market, at 101 Stobcross Street in the Anderston area of the city. This proved highly successful and Lipton went on to establish a chain of shops, first in Glasgow and then across Scotland, before expanding to cover the whole of the UK over the next ten years.

Meanwhile, the demand for tea was increasing among the middle classes and in 1888, by which time Lipton had 300 stores, he set out to bypass the traditional lines of supply for tea by investing directly in tea plantations. The Lipton Tea brand he established offered good quality for low prices and proved hugely popular, expanding the market for tea to all parts of society and establishing it as the national drink of choice.

Lipton was a big fan of promotional stunts. When his first 20,000 tea chests arrived in Glasgow he put on a party, complete with a brass band and bagpipe parade. In 1893 Sir Thomas Lipton officially established the Thomas J Lipton Company, a tea packaging company based in Hoboken, New Jersey . He felt that tea should be a drink for everyone, not just the wealthy , so he strived to make packaging and shipping less expensive.

Instead of arriving in crates, Sir Thomas packaged his loose tea in multiple weight options. The tea was also standardised, so Lipton customers knew exactly what to expect.

Thomas Lipton developed a passion for yachting, between 1899 and 1930 Lipton challenged the American holders of the America’s Cup through the Royal Ulster Yacht Club five times with yachts he named Shamrock through Shamrock V. He never won the cup, but he was awarded a special trophy as “the best of all losers”. This may sound double-edged, but one effect of his efforts to win the cup was to make his name well known across the United States, and his tea very popular there.

Although Lipton, through his yachting, became a friend of royalty, as a self-made man he still had difficulty breaking into some corners of the highly stratified British society of the day. He was, for example, only accepted as a member of the Royal Yacht Squadron shortly before his death.

Lipton died at his home in north London in 1931. He left most of his wealth to his native city of Glasgow. His yachting trophies are now on display at the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum. Sir Thomas Lipton was buried alongside his parents and siblings in Glasgow’s Southern Necropolis.

Liptons continues today as part of the multinational Unilever brands, their teas and other beverages still bear his name and are a world known brand, not bad for a young lad born in a Glasgow Tenement to Irish immigrants.

[thru-the-grapevine]

A Spoonful of Sugar

Pairing: Baker!Yuta x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff and absolute silliness

Word Count: 1717

In hindsight, you should have looked up your alternate route to work before just randomly picking one. But then again, how were you supposed to know that the new route would also have a bakery? Trying to curb your addiction to baked goods was going to be more difficult than expected. 

However, you would not be true to yourself if you didn’t at least have a quick peek at this new discovery. If therapy taught you anything, it was to follow your passions. And this morning, your passion just so happened to be whatever that delightful smell was.

So, you pushed open the glass door and made your way inside the warmth of the shop. Immediately, your senses were delighted with the smells of baking bread and freshly brewed coffee. In front of you stood a small, but packed display counter full of muffins, breads, pastries, and all manner of sweets. 

The menu behind the counter was handwritten a little messily, but still readable as you poured over the coffee and tea options. Oh, this was both a brilliant idea and an absolute mistake. There was no way you weren’t leaving without at least a blueberry muffin and a cappuccino to go. 

“Can I get you anything?” A voice jerked you out of your daydream of how wonderful a muffin sounded right about now. You looked over to the cash register where the most handsome man you’d ever seen was giving you a cheerful smile. 

He was also the last man you’d expect to be working at a cute little bakery had you encountered him on the street. His dyed red hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, revealing his dark brown roots. His ears were covered in earrings, and you spied several tattoos visible where he’d rolled up his sleeves. His clothes were dark and artfully ripped, a striking contrast to the pastel yellow walls around him, and the floral apron he wore. 

Oh, you were staring. Oops. You cleared your throat. “Um, yes! I’d like, uh, a blueberry muffin and…” you trailed off, eyes back on the drink menu. 

“If you like tea, the green tea latte is a personal favorite of mine,” the man said. “And I promise it’s not just because it’s my specialty.” 

Did he just wink at you? He definitely just winked at you. You coughed and mumbled, “Sure, I’ll try that.” 

The man grinned. He packaged your muffin and drink for you, rang you up at the register, and waved as you left the store with a, “Thanks! Please come again!” 

You were in such a daze the rest of your walk to work that you nearly walked right past the office building. Hoping none of your coworkers saw you, you waddled back to the building, flashing your badge at the security officer, saying, “Morning, Steve.” 

He wished you a good morning too, and you joined the throngs of people dressed in their best work clothes waiting for the elevator. Finally remembering you spent money, you took a sip of the green tea latte and had to stop yourself from exclaiming out loud. It was good! Normally, this type of drink wouldn’t be up your alley, but this one was delightful. You couldn’t wait to try the muffin. 

Once at your desk, you unwrapped the muffin and sighed happily as you breathed in the sweet smell. It only took one bite for you to decide you would definitely be going back to this bakery. The muffin was incredible, and somehow paired perfectly with the green tea latte. Maybe Mondays weren’t so terrible after all. 

The next morning dawned cold and rainy. The perfect morning for a piping hot coffee and a warm pastry, you mused. Naturally, despite the horrid weather, you found yourself walking to the bakery once again. 

And once again, you were greeted with the cheerful smile of the handsome worker, his hair once again pulled back in a messy ponytail. You couldn’t help smiling back with a shy wave. 

“Same thing as yesterday?” he asked, leaning on the counter. 

You shook your head. “I want to try something new. But thank you for the tea recommendation yesterday. You were right, it was amazing!” 

The man beamed. “You won’t find a better one anywhere! They’re a Yuta exclusive,” he said with a wink. 

You turned your head away just in case you were blushing. Couldn’t have him seeing that. But still, you were pleased. He told you his name. Yuta. 

All throughout your meetings, your mind drifted to Yuta. Even long after you’d finished your coffee and strawberry pastry, you heard his voice in the back of your mind. 

This worried you. After all, you had a career to focus on! Drifting away to thoughts of some pretty man who happened to know how to bake during important meetings was not like you in the slightest. You prided yourself on your impeccable work ethic, always striving for perfection, sometimes to the point of near exhaustion. But thanks to you, your department flourished. And for your efforts, the bonuses came frequently. You couldn’t complain. 

And yet, there you were, drifting into Yuta’s bakery every single morning. And every single morning he greeted you with a bright smile. When the weather was terrible, he made your warm drink as quickly as he could.

“You need to warm up your hands!” he would always exclaim. You didn’t mind. You had to admit, the attention was nice. 

Even when there were other customers in line, Yuta would have your green tea latte ready to go before you could decide on your morning treat. And every time you asked, Yuta had a recommendation. 

You weren’t sure if it was a coincidence, but you noticed some of your favorites becoming more regular in the display as well. No, surely this was a coincidence. They were probably some of his best sellers, so it made sense he’d make them more frequently. 

As the holidays approached, and the weather grew colder and grayer, you were grateful for the cheerful bakery and its warm goodies. Some mornings, you could barely get out of bed. Only the thought of a hot drink and a sweet treat could get you going. And maybe the thought of seeing Yuta helped a little. Maybe. 

You couldn’t help your attraction to him. He always seemed so at ease, so comfortable in the world, as if he could ride any wave life threw his way. 

You felt like his opposite: always dressed in professional clothing. It was a little stiff, but you believed in making the best first impression with your clients. And your world required deadlines and perfect reports. Yuta’s world was sugar and cinnamon, colors and laughter. Yours was spreadsheets and formalities. 

No, your silly little crush was just that: a silly little crush. Yuta was merely a polite worker, intent on making a profit with his business. You weren’t even sure he knew your name. 

One particularly frosty morning, Yuta decided to prove you very wrong. 

Your visit to the bakery started like any other. You ordered your drink and pastry (the cinnamon rolls smelled delectable). Yuta was cheerful as always. 

But as you went to check out, Yuta stopped you before you could pull out your card. “Today is on me,” he said. 

You took a moment to register his words, your attention focused on his hand covering yours. Was it warm in here? “Huh?” you looked up at him. 

Yuta smiled. “Today is on me. And… well…” You had never once seen Yuta hesitate. The man was always coming up with something to say, exuding confidence. But now he was almost unsure, looking away from you and fiddling with the hem of his apron. “I wanted to ask you… if you’d like to, well, I wanna take you on a date.” 

A date. 

A date. A date. A date?!

“I don’t have a whole lot of money, but I was wondering if you’d like to come over and, well, help me taste test? I have some ideas for the bakery, and you always seem so enthusiastic?” 

You stared at him. He wanted to bake for you. For you?? Feeling your heart speed up, you realized you hadn’t said anything. Poor Yuta was looking at you nervously, hopefully. 

You opened your mouth to respond when the front door slammed open. You jumped, turning instinctively to see a man in a mask, holding a knife as he stalked toward you and the register. 

Before you could react, he grabbed your arm, shoving the knife at you threateningly. “Gimme all your money, or she gets hurt,” he snarled at Yuta. 

Yuta’s eyes were wide, but he held his hands up. “Okay, okay, hang on,” he said carefully, moving to the register. 

Remembering him telling you he didn’t have much money, rage filled you. So you did what any sensible woman would do. You grabbed the man’s arm, placed your foot against his, and flipped him over. He cried out in surprise as you took the knife from him and stood on his chest with your full weight. “Don’t move,” you said coldly. 

You looked up at Yuta who was staring at you, mouth wide open. “How-” he started.

“Yes, I know martial arts. I have a stressful job. I had to unwind somehow,” you said defensively, a little embarrassed that you did all of that in your pencil skirt. 

Yuta’s open mouth formed into the widest grin you’d seen him do yet. “I would very much like to kiss you now,” he said dreamily.

You flushed. “That’s very sweet of you. Perhaps you should call the police first,” you gestured to the man groaning in pain beneath your feet. You were sure your heels could not be comfortable. Oh well. 

“Oh yeah,” Yuta said, turning to the phone. “But like, seriously, will you go on a date with me?” he asked before punching in the numbers. 

You hid your face behind your hands. “Yes, of course I’ll go on a date with you! Please, this is so embarrassing,” you mumbled. 

Yuta’s twinkling laugh would echo in your ears throughout your entire work day as you watched the clock, begging for it to move faster. After all, you had a date.