#we made praline

[dibs-on-the-band-name]

contaminated nuts

[pyjamaart]

Love in the Crossfire!

[mizirdidnothingwrong]

I can not get over Dismas comment when you give him and another character the heart shaped box chocolate box

[buckyalpine]

Some shy Bucky with meddling Sam and Steve and a cute little baker. 

Bucky hummed at the warm drink that danced on his tongue, a new creation that the sweet girl at the bakery had insisted he try. He wasn’t big on experimenting but ever since he’d visited the shop, he couldn’t say no to the human form of sunshine that stood behind the counter, always offering him something new to she’d made. Today, the flavors of vanilla and praline were infused in his coffee, your latest combination you had made just for him.

“So, thoughts?” You smiled hopefully, the twinkle in your eyes making Bucky blush like a school boy. 

“It’s delicious doll, thank you” He slid you a 5, shaking his head when you tried to give him back change, “Keep it, if anything I should be paying you more for something that good”

You giggled, waving goodbye to the handsome super soldier as he left, the dainty bell to the door of your shop ringing on his way out. What started off as a one time thing became a daily occurrence; Bucky would go for a morning walk or run and stop by the bakery before making his way back. He enjoyed his new routine, getting a coffee, talking to the angel that worked there, grabbing a cookie, getting to see her smile, trying a new drink, fuck, that sweet laugh. 

Now that it was getting warmer, you’d started to introduce him to cold drinks with fruit flavors and different colors. It had been almost three months since he’d first visited; your bakery was a sold part of his day now and he going to change it any time soon. 

“I’ll be able to open a whole new shop with how much you keep tipping me Jamie” you shook your head while he chuckled, sliding the change back to you. 

“Well if there's anyone that deserves it, it’s you” The smirk he gave you caused butterflies to fly madly around your tummy; you had no business crushing on the handsome soldier but he made it so hard! 

Bucky couldn’t stop smiling as he walked back to the compound, humming to himself with another new creation of yours to try. He wouldn’t quite remember the name of what you’d given him but he loved it nonetheless, adoring the sprinkles you added on top just because. 

"I thought you only drank black coffee” Sam cocked an eyebrow from where he was sitting in the kitchen as Bucky walked in, seeing the bright pink and blue drink the brunette was holding. A shit eating grin made it’s way to his face while Bucky groaned.

“Don’t start-

“Who is she. C’mon, big grumpy, staring machine like you drinking unicorn in a cup?” 

“There is no she” Bucky hissed while Sam raised his hands in defeat, not the least bit convinced. 

“Whatever you say” 

One nosy, sneaky Sam and Steve mission later,

“For fucks sake, Dear God” Bucky groaned seeing his two best friends already sitting at the counter chatting up his angel, both men grinning when they heard Bucky walk in. 

“Hi Jamie!” you smiled while Steve chuckled to himself seeing the brunette glower at them. 

“Awww, hi Jamie” Sam cooed, making a kissy face that Bucky would’ve smacked off if you weren’t standing right there. “We didn’t know you came to this place” 

“Jamie comes here all the time” You smiled, making his regular order while Bucky huffed, his annoyance melting away watching you flit behind the counter, handing him his coffee and a fresh cookie. 

“Does he now” Steve snorted, looking at Bucky watching you with heart eyes, 

“Y’know, y/n was saying she wanted to see that movie you’ve been going on about” Sam stated, nudging Bucky’s shoulder, “You know the one you’ve been dying to see too? Maybe you could both go. Thanks for the coffee y/n” 

Bucky stared at Sam with panicked wide eyes, the pink on his cheeks spreading to his neck and ears. Sam and Steve made their way out while Steve gave Bucky’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze along with a knowing smile. 

Go for it. 

“You - wouldn’t-with me- would-would you want to?” He sputtered out while you giggled with a nod making him relax. “Sorry, it’s been so long” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, collecting himself. “and my friends are idiots” 

“I’d love you” you whispered, leaning over to give he blushing soldier a peck on his cheek.

“It’s a date, doll” Bucky winked, loving the bashful smile you gave him, his charming self slowly coming back. He’d eventually owe Sam and Steve $20 each when they end up being the best men at his wedding but it would be worth it. 

[mncxbe]

𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐲

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: bsd, csm, headcanons fluff n smut♡

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: since Vday will be here soon I wanted to do a little something♡ hope you like it babes

ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑ ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑ ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑

𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢

sneaky bastard. he pretends to forget about Valentine's day just to see your cute pout– "aww bella didn't know you cared so much about this silly little day. fine, fine, you got me. I did get you a gift"

totally gets you a very thoughtful gift and writes you a letter. he's really not good at expressing his feelings through words, so letters have to do

he wakes up early so he can pick fresh flowers for you from the park. I really think Dazai isn't the type to buy you tacky bouquets. and of course he makes you breakfast in bed– "rise and shine, beautiful. I made you your favourite." he'd purr, placing a plate of hot blueberry pancakes in front of you "dig in, we have plans today"

definitely skips work so he can spend time with you, but he eventually has to go to the Ada office after Kunikida threatens to fire him. don't worry tho, he'll make up for the lost time when he comes back home in the evening

that night he's more gentle than usual, making sure that you enjoy yourself. after all the day is all about you and he's going to do his best to please you– "Ah fuck 'donna you're doing so well. you like it? s-sure hope you do angel 'm gonna make you cum f'me alright? atta girl..."

𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚

he's such a gentleman omg

because of his job, he can't be there with you when you wake up, but you can be sure he's going to leave you a romantic note on the nightstand

he sends you flowers and expensive praline boxes at work just to make sure that your female colleagues envy you–"everyone needs to know how well i treat my pretty girl, right baby?"

in the evening he finally gets the chance to give you the rest of his gifts: lingerie, expensive perfumes and of course, his affections and undivided attention♡

a candle lit, bubble bath with a glass of wine is mandatory. you lay in his arms, your back flush against his chest while he plays with your hair, whispering the sweetest things in your ear "i love you, pretty girl. i'm glad that you're mine never forget that"

𝐀𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚

sweet boy, he's so confused and overwhelmed

he doesn't really understand the whole point of Valentine's day but he wantes to make the day special for you

he plans it weeks ahead, asking Chuuya for advice. i see him talking to Gin about what gifts he could give you; she's his sister after all, she must know what a girl wants

Akutagawa buys you books for Valentine's day. a book-bouquet to be more specific and makes you dinner at home

please show him that you care and appreciate his efforts. he's super anxious about it– "You mean it was nice? you enjoyed yourself with me, right? oh thank god"

after dinner, he wouldn't mind getting down to some more intimate activities♡ if you want that ofc. once he's back in your arms with his face buried in the crook of your neck as he fucks you slowly, he finally manages to relax, all worries seeping out of him "My angel... I-I love you so much ah fuck- please never leave me" yea, he gets very emotional

𝐅𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢

he straight up forgets about Valentine's day, it's just not a priority for him and no matter how many times you try to hint at it he doesn't get it

he's confused when he sees you pouting and doesn't really understand what's wrong? but once he gets to work Teruko tells him that it's Valentine's day he's so mad at himself.

ofc he tries to make up for it in the evening when he gets home from work

he brings you a bouquet of roses (one of the pre-made ones y'all know what i'm talking about💀) but it's the thought that counts and apologises for forgetting– "i'm sorry sweetheart, didn't mean to upset you, ya know? i had a lot on my plate lately and it just slipped my mind. c'mon baby don't be mad"

he doesn't drop it until you accept his apology. if you're up for it he takes you out to dinner at the most expensive place in town♡

𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐞

man... where do i even start

he doesn't get the point of it either, just sees the day as an opportunity to spend time with his beloved♡

despite his cold demeanour, Kishibe's a real thoughtful person. he doesn't buy you any overly expensive gifts but he picks flowers for you probably sneaks some from the cemetery too

if you wanna do something special he's totally down for it– "Hm? You wanna go have dinner at that new place in town? Sure, dear, I'll book us a table don't worry about it."

he's not very affectionate either but once you two are back home, in the comfort of your apartment, his tongue loosens a bit–"Ya know, princess, you're one of the best things that happened to me. thank you, really. why're you laughing, i'm serious. you know i don't joke about matters of the heart"

𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥

you probably have to explain the concept of Valentine's day to him

Angel's too lazy to plan anything for the two of you so you have to settle for ordering takeout and watching a movie

lets you cuddle him if you insist enough and make sure that every inch of your skin is covered so he doesn't accidentally drain your lifespan

hear me out now. stargazing with him >>

he's the happiest man on earth if you gift him a pack of ice cream cones or some flowers. he's definitely the type to press them just because they're a gift from you and he treasures every little thing you do for him, even if he doesn't always show it

[cottonlemonade]

Night Routine

request: large Warm Milk with Honey to go for Tendou || fluffy-spicy night routine with boyfriend Tendou

warnings: spoilers, mdni, suggestive

____________________________________________

One of the things you loved the most about your boyfriend was that he was never stingy with showing affection. As soon as you opened the door, Tendou was upon you with hugs and kisses, commenting on how gorgeous you looked - even if you only wore sweats and a shirt that had seen better days.

Coming straight from work, he always brought you something. You were the first (and quite frankly only) opinion he wanted whenever experimenting with something new and who were you to turn down handmade chocolate! So it wasn’t unusual for him to feed you something before you two got started on dinner. Having you sit on the kitchen counter, he would stand between your legs and make you close your eyes to get the full experience of the flavor. As the chocolate melted on your tongue, you’d feel his hands run up your plush thighs and give them a few sensuous squeezes, making you giggle.

“What do you think?”, he’d ask.

“Hm…”, you pondered, locking your hands behind his neck, “I love the twist of lemon you added.”

And your boyfriend’s face would light up that you caught his newest ingredient. He would kiss you, humming at how the chocolate added to your own sweet taste and then lift you off the counter so you could go on with dinner preparations.

When it was time to do the dishes, Tendou supplied a fresh playlist every week. You’d rock paper scissors to find out who would wash and who would do the drying and putting away and then begin the chore while dancing to his latest song choices. It always ended with you two loudly singing along to whatever was playing, let that be a disney song, an anime opening or like tonight Britney Spears “One More Time”.

“Oh baby baby, the reason I breathe is you”, he sang into your ear, his hands beginning a rather inappropriate journey over your hips down to your ass as you tried to focus on the sponge in your hand.

“Oh you got me blinded, oh pretty baby” and he ran his lips along your neck as he continued, “there’s nothing that I wouldn’t do” - and as quickly as his teasing began, it would stop. Next thing you knew he used the wooden cooking spoon as a microphone, holding it out to you whenever an adlib came up.

These silly games made the chore go by much faster and had you double over with laughter at his ridiculous performances, that got more over the top the longer the dish washing went on (to keep up morale).

When everything was tidied again, he’d put his arms around your waist and grin mischievously, “So, my delicious little praline. You wanna continue where we left off with our anime or…”, he put a finger under your chin, pulling you closer and said with a wink, “go straight to bed for some forbidden delights?”

____________________________________________

a/n: ahhhh, the birthday boy! He is so silly and perfect ^^ I hope you enjoyed it 🫶🏻🌟 @ranscutedoll

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

PALentines day 💋

Bale!Bruce Wayne x reader drabble <3

A/N: we all know about Valentines day, we've beard about Galentines day, now get ready for Palentines day!! A day to celebrate the most platonic of friendships... most of the time.

(I'm sorry that this is so short, I've been trying to write some shorter stuff lately <3)

~Fi 🐝

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Friends. That's what you were. The friendliest, most platonic tier of friends. Okay, you were good friends. You did hang out a lot, and it was always fun. Maybe best friends is a better term. You went to each other for advice and whatever was on your mind, always having someone to confide in.

Bruce was the best best friend, which is why he stood in front of your door with a overly dramatic bouquet of flowers and a disgustingly expensive box of chocolates.

Because, if your friend doesn't have a valentine, you step up and make them a little surprise to brighten their day! ... right? This isn't weird. No, he's just being a good friend, that's all.

At least that's what he told himself when his brows furrowed and a subtle feeling of regret started to seep into his bones. He hated how much this felt like he was actually taking you out and not like a thoughtful gesture you'd get from a friend.

And it didn't help his case of being madly in love with you, either. He hated himself for how much he liked this, being able to pretend that you were more than just friends for even a split second. That he was able to do what he's been wanting to do for years; show you just how much you truly mean to him.

Bruce has had a gray, dull and gloomy life. Everything seemed to go wrong for him, throwing him deeper and deeper into emotional ruin. But then you came along and made everything just that little bit more bearable. You were like his little ray of sunshine that broke through the heavy clouds and make him see the beautiful colors of the world again.

And he knows that he can never give you back just how much you've given him, but some flowers and a box of pralines are the steps in the right direction... right? Jesus Christ, what was he doing? He's just your best friend. God, this IS weird.

And for a beat, he'd actually thought about turning straight on his heel and sinking into a pit of shame once he was back in the privacy of his own home. Bruce huffed in frustration at himself. He'd been standing in front of your door like this, like an idiot, for the past 10 minutes and still hadn't found the courage to knock.

The crease between his brows softened. What if... you appreciated his gesture? What if, this was exactly what you needed after a rough week. Just someone thinking of you. And, what if... you felt the same? A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, along with a pinch in his heart.

Bruce wanted nothing more than for it to be true, to know that you've been loving him just as he's been loving you. He was never a fan of hope, but that's all his lovesick heart was filled with now. Overflowing with the desperate hope that he has the chance to make you his and treat you like the treasure you are.

He had the urge to fall to his knees before you and just let everything spill out, how you made his life better in every way, and that he was but a man who couldn't help but fall for his guardian angel.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

🌹

《Tag list》: @allysunny @certifiedredhoodlover @hellonheels-x @gaozorous-rex-blog

[curtsycream]

Farmer’s Market Crush

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

warning: self indulgent fluff, can he please be my farmers market crush???, the reader has curly hair and is southern, the hair detail can be skipped over its not that important, his smile so pretty <33

She stood at her booth when she spotted him, in front of her was a variety of jams. From blackberry to peach all fresh and homemade. They were in adorable little glass jars that looked professional almost. “Can I help you with anything?”

Hotch hadn’t noticed her until she spoke his eyes focusing on her. He was a bit startled as he seemed to be gathering his thoughts.

She stood with a smile on her face as she looked at Hotch. “I’m sorry did I startle you? I apologize if I did…you just looked as if your mind was somewhere else!” She said sweetly.

Hotch had to stop himself from smiling at the question she just asked, he was most definitely zoned out at that point. That was until he heard that voice, so adorable and sweet sounding, with just the right amount of twang in it, it took all of his concentration to stay focused.

When she had asked if she startled him, Hotch simply shook his head, “No…no you’re fine… I apologize. It was….”

What should he say? He didn’t wanna tell her he had zoned out when he noticed her behind her booth.

She laughed softly as she shook her head, “don’t worry we all zone out sometimes..” she said in a understanding manner.

She was still smiling at him as if it was permanently etched onto her face. She found him handsome and truth be told she was staring at him for a bit before she finally spoke up.

Hotch cleared his throat not sure what else to say, he then saw her looking at him. Her sweet smile making her look sweeter than she did at first. Yet something about her…something about her was familiar. He knew what she looked like but it was also a certain way she carried herself…and that accent…that southern belle twang that made him almost melt in her presence.

Hotch finally remembered where he had seen her before. But she beat him to the punch when she spoke again.

“You look familiar,” she said tilting her head causing her curls to drape over her shoulder. She leans forward a little over her booth, “you’re with the BAU right? I think I spoke with you before at that little coffee house on Main Street..” she finally said.

That was it, he remembered her from that coffee shop. And in the back of his mind he had thought it was because she was involved in a recent case. He couldn’t explain just how happy that fact made him. And her accent only made his smile grow.

He looked over at her and nodded, “Yes…yes I am.”

Her accent making even the simplest sentences feel like love songs in his ears. “Your name is Y/N right?” His voice was soft and calm like a cool breeze on a summer’s night.

“Yeah Y/N!” She said with enthusiasm as she nodded her head at him. She knew he looked familiar as she had remembered hearing that voice before. Along with that face that seemed to hold just the right amount of endearment and warmth.

He nodded his head before he looked over at her booth, now noticing the sign that read “fresh jams, homemade. By: Y/N” and adorable little jars of jam. “You make these?”

“Yeah it’s a hobby, I make other things too! I make my own breads and even pecan pralines I like to think I make ‘em the best.” She boosted slightly. “I have all kinds of jams today…I hadn’t had the time to make breads in about a week.”

He listened intently as he examined her booth, seeing her homemade jams and baked goods was truly astonishing to him.

“You make bread?” Hotch’s voice was soft still as he thought back to one moment in his past.

“What type of bread?”

“I make French loafs, sweet breads, multigrain, whole wheat bread, honey wheat bread, sourdough, rye! I started making brioche that’s my favorite one!” She tells him with a smile.

His heart raced when he heard this. French loaf, sweet breads, honey wheat bread and homemade brioche…was this some sort of gift from above?

As he watched the gentle breeze blow her curls around her face he spoke up again. “You know, you make the same bread as my mother did when I was growing up.”

“Really? Does she still make bread?” She asked with interest. She found the idea of someone older making bread amazing. In her small neighborhood not many did or showed interest to continue.

He looked over at her. His eyes looked as if they had a glimmer of sadness to them. “Unfortunately she…has passed away.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” she said with a compassionate smile on her face. She had genuine sympathy in her E/C eyes as she spoke.

Hotch looked away for a moment, he didn’t want this woman to feel bad for him, he had come here to see the market. “What do you recommend?” He asked softly, looking over at her.

She took the hint as she looked back at him, “from any booth?” She asked. She knew each booth pretty well so recommendations came easy to her.

He truly appreciated how kind she was, just like his mother used to be. He then nodded his head once more “yeah, any booth. Since you work here you’d probably know the best recommendation, right?” he smiled again.

She points around, “if you’re into fresh produce Mr. Cook’s booth is perfect he spends his time with the vegetables he grows. He also sells them for dirt cheap because he just enjoys doing it! Oh and Mable the little old lady over there makes the best macarons! She has this hazelnut praline one that’s so good! But if you lack a sweet tooth and like savory…Henry the tall fella over there he has the best homemade chips. He mixes them with different things, I’ve never had honey chips before until I tried his.” She rambled with a smile.

Hotch was amazed at how sweet and adorable she sounded. Her voice was comforting in a way. When she was finished talking Hotch nodded in response, “okay. I think I’ll have to try out a sample of your home made jams. I also think I’ll go try out the honey chips too.”

His voice was calm, and his smile was warm. It was as if he was looking at the girl of his dreams. But maybe he was just being a bit overly dramatic.

She grins, “tell me what’s your favorite jam?” She said as she looked at him. There was subtle kindness in her eyes as she spoke to him.

He looked back at her, “blackberry is my favorite.” He wasn’t so sure why he was so flustered, “what’s your favorite jam, Y/N?”

His name sounded lovely whenever said with the southern accent and his heart raced even more with the look in her eyes. It was a genuine look, not of judgment or pretend, there was only sweetness and playfulness. Something about her made him nervous yet excited.

Y/N looks through her jams before picking up the blackberry one. She thinks for a moment, “mine would be apple jam…on a piece of toast it tastes like apple pie. It’s so good especially if you use honey crisp or cosmic apples..” she says.

She holds out the blackberry jam, “this one is on the house…call it a getting to know you gift.” She tells him.

He watches as she picks up the blackberry jam, his eyes gazing at her for what feels like forever for him “you sure? I can pay for it of course, you work very hard for this I can’t imagine you’d be giving this up for free.”

Hotch was almost too mesmerized by her beauty to speak at this point he was still flustered and nervous. The feeling of her kindness and charm was making him feel as if he was floating and in a dream.

Y/N waved her hand dismissively, “don’t worry about it…usually Mable comes through here and pretty much buys me out for the holiday seasons.” She reassured him.

Hotch was still worried but at least he knew she wouldn’t be losing money if he took that blackberry jam. “If you say so…thank you Y/N.”

Hotch then looked around the market. He hadn’t yet noticed Derek and Penelope standing watching the scene unfold.

“You’re always welcome Aaron..” she said in a soft tone. She noticed the onlookers before letting out a small laugh. “Hey…I think we should get to know each other better..” she started. “If you want to that is..”

Hotch felt the world go still and quiet. Her words felt like honey dripping from her sweet lips. Her accent made his stomach grow with butterflies and warmth and her sweet tone was like the lullaby he had been needing to hear.

“I…I would like that.” He spoke firmly. But his voice had more confidence now as he couldn’t stop gazing at her.

Derek then taps Hotch on the shoulder, “come on Hotch, let’s not hog this lovely ladies time.”

She watched as Hotch was lead away by his friend as she waved goodbye. As Hotch was walking away while being pestered by Penelope and Derek for answers he turned the jar in his hand. His eyes widening for a second as he noticed the number on the back of the jam label.

***-***-****, we should get to know each other more <3

[farity]

In the Red of Night

Pairing:  Modern!AU Aemond Targaryen x you

Summary:  Aemond likes coffee.  And sugar.  And other things.

Warnings:  Future smut.

He liked to think that after all this time, he was better than this.  

But as dawn began to tint the sky in purples and pinks, Aemond Targaryen looked down at his hands, stained with dried blood, and told himself the worst lies were the ones you told yourself.  

He stood, dusting off his black trousers, and headed back to his loft.  The sun had begun to peek over the taller buildings by the time he turned onto his street.  Despite myths and movies, sunlight wouldn’t burn him to ashes or make him sparkle.  It did feel a little warmer than he liked and after a few minutes, his skin would be the bright pink that a normal pale person got after a day at the beach with no sun cream or protection, but given the fact that he had pale skin, not to mention the silver white hair that made most people do double takes, it was generally understood that he preferred to be in the shade.

He nodded at the doorman, who never questioned his hours, and headed for the private elevator around the corner.  He pressed the button and the mechanism began its near silent whirr as it traveled up to the top floor.

Walking inside his front door, he began pulling off his shirt, throwing it into his bedroom hamper before he began unzipping his trousers.  His bed was neatly made, since he hadn’t slept in it the previous night, and he finished undressing before he walked into his bathroom.  

He let the cool water beat down on his head and back for a few minutes before he began scrubbing the blood off his skin.  There wasn’t a lot of it, as he had long ago learned to not make a mess when he indulged, but it reminded him that he needed to be careful.  His very appearance and physicality made him noticeable and he could not afford to stand out any more than he already did.

One of the many advantages of the modern world was the existence of coffee shops - he was addicted to the stuff.  He also didn’t want to bother making it himself, and most shops had a quiet corner or two where he could work and watch people, and he wouldn’t be bothered.  

He dressed in his usual greys and blacks, pulled a thin cashmere knit hat over his pale hair, and went downstairs.  There was a coffee shop across the street from his building, and he had been waiting for the new owner to finish the remodeling and updating, and it was, finally, open for business.  He’d waited for the initial rush to settle before he crossed the street and walked in. 

It reminded him of a favorite bar he’d frequented in Paris long ago.  The decor was timeless, with vases and objets d’art that were either priceless antiques or very good reproductions, set safely on high shelves.  There was soft music playing, not the obnoxious litany of mumbling boys that sounded like they were barely awake - the 90s had been particularly trying music-wise - but, again, he thought back to the beginning of the previous century and felt that this place would have looked right at home then.

Of course, it had the latest technology, from the cameras to the outlets to accommodate several devices at every table.  The pristine sterling steel machines kept up a steady stream of both coffee and a low hum of sound, and Aemond quickly found a corner where he could perch himself for the next couple of hours.  He set down his laptop, placed his hoodie over it, and headed over to the counter, where several people managed to dodge each other’s arms as they worked to serve their customers.  

There was a tempting array of cakes and pastries, and Aemond, who loved sugar almost as much as he loved a certain dark red liquid, immediately chose a chocolate cake with what looked like hazelnuts on top.  

“Eyeing the chocolate praline, are we?”

He looked up at the cheerful voice and his eyes landed on a pair of green eyes, crinkling at the corners, as they studied him. 

“Is it made in house?”

“Of course, that one is made by me, actually.  Chocolate hazelnut praline, it’s a popular one.  Some coffee along with your cake?”

He nodded.  “Black, whatever you think will go best with it, and seven sugars.”

Her eyes snapped up to his, “okay, then,” she smiled.  “please don’t damage the walls when you start bouncing off of them later.”

She turned to grab a plate and start brewing some coffee while he immediately began to think of all the ways he could damage the walls.  Most of them involved having her legs wrapped around him, and he blinked, pushing the thought away when she turned back to him.  

“Will there be anything else?”

“Hmm.  Not for now, I’ll be doing some work and probably get something else later.”

She nodded and rang up his purchase.  If she was impressed by the heavy, black-finish credit card he handed her, she gave no sign.  “I’ll bring it over in a minute.”  She smiled at him and turned to greet another customer.

* * * * * 

You’d seen him a couple of times before, during the last couple of weeks as you put the final touches on the coffee shop.  The hair, obviously, had caught your attention, and the fact that he was so tall.  He lived across the street and you hoped he’d become a regular, start building your little clientele, have your core group of customers as well as the more casual buyers.

He had a very, very nice ass, you thought, glancing discreetly as he walked away.  Lean and rangy, he had covered his hair today, and in his dark clothes blended in pretty well within the little corner he’d chosen.  You grabbed his coffee, a bowl with extra sugars, and his cake, and took it all over to his table.  “Here you are, let me know if you need anything else,” you smiled.  He had the most lovely shade of eyes, somewhere between dark blue and purple.

“Thank you, I will.”

You really wanted to stay and trace your fingertip over every sharp edge of that stunning face, the wide lips, the faded scar over his eye.  Instead, you turned back to your counter and your customers, and decided to later find out more about the sugar fiend who had just come in to your shop.

* * * * * 

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[midwestgp]

F1 Grid as Ice Cream Flavors

These are flavors we have at the ice cream shop I work at and everything here is accurate and fact checked.

George Russell: Praline Pecan, vanilla ice cream with a butterscotch ripple with candied pecans Lewis Hamilton: Mango Sorbet, vegan sorbet made with mangoes Fernando Alonso: Salty Caramel Truffle, salted caramel ice cream with milk chocolate truffles filled with caramel Lance Stroll: Oree-dough, vanilla ice cream with cookie dough and oreo pieces Max Verstappen: Vanilla, classic vanilla ice cream Sergio Perez: Banana, sweet ice cream made with bananas Charles Leclerc: Cherry Vanilla, vanilla ice cream with whole maraschino cherries Carlos Sainz: Banana Cream Pie, banana ice cream with a marshmallow ripple and sugar cookie pieces Oscar Piastri: Strawberry, sweet ice cream made with strawberries Lando Norris: Cotton Candy, cotton candy flavored ice cream with rainbow colored chocolate chips Yuki Tsunoda: Grape, sweet and tangy purple ice cream Daniel Ricciardo: Spouse Like A House, vanilla malted ice cream with a peanut butter ripple and chocolate covered pretzel balls Esteban Ocon: Mint Chocolate Chip, mint ice cream with chocolate chips Pierre Gasly: Coffee Chocolate Chip, coffee ice cream with chocolate chips Alex Albon: Chocolate, classic chocolate ice cream Logan Sargeant: Chocolate Peanut Butter Brownie, chocolate ice cream with a peanut butter ripple and brownie pieces Valterri Bottas: Pistachio, sweet pistachio flavored ice cream with pistachios Zhou Guanyu: Chocoholic Chunk, dark chocolate ice cream with chocolate chips Nico Hulkenberg: Chocolate Malt with Caramel, chocolate malted ice cream with a caramel ripple Kevin Magnussen: Cherry Magnolia, black cherry ice cream with whole black cherries, brownie pieces and chocolate chips

[goodluckclove]

hey clove ! long fucking ask wow i apologize. this is just me rambling so conserve your brain if you wanna

i was thinking a lot about fancy foods today and had some interesting thoughts . i work at my local mall selling frozen macarons/chocolates/gelato and other pastries etc at a little kiosk in the middle of the food court for "luxury" prices (like almost 4 dollars per macaron). everything in the display cases is visually enticing - the macarons are brightly colored, the chocolates are in different shapes and colors and textures, the gelato is, ,, well you know how cute gelato is it's pretty damn cute. and the kiosk is white and generally pretty spotless as well, and the decor is french-themed cus that's the genre of stuff we sell. overalll it's marketing toward the WASPs of the area and their young kids. but something i've realized is that while everything we sell might be super yummy to look at, it's not really that yummy to eat. the macarons largely taste the same, and that flavor is mostly just almond. the colors are just colors, they're like froot loops. the gelato - which i've only recently properly tried - tastes pretty damn good (we sell a praline hazelnut one - OH BABYYYYY. i will be embalmed in that stuff when i die) - but the texture is just way, way off. it's grainy and just not like gelato at all. it feels like a scam or a multi level marketing scheme. its advertised as being super high end and bougie but it's really not.

compare that to the other restaurants in the food court. they're not glamorous. there's only a few chain restaurants; the rest have generic names, have fast-talking employees with beautifully diverse accents, have graphics with three different logo iterations and menus with low-quality photos. today i bought an egg and mozzarella crepe from one of these restaurants, and watched it being made while the employees threw friendly jabs at each other in a language i didn't recognize as an icon of the virgin mary gazed at them from the wall. the crepe wasn't pretty or brightly colored or aesthetically packaged. it cost me ten dollars with a tip and it was more food than i could ever eat. i sat crammed next to the sink in the kiosk using our big rubbermaid freezer cart as a table and tried not to cut the aluminum foil and styrofoam container along with the crepe. that thing made me so nostalgic and calm; the flavors were so familiar and comforting.

there's bigger nuances here than just "pretty food bad, unpretty food good", but it was a really interesting observation for me. i already knew my job was lowkey scam-ish, but to see real food actually being made without much fretting over how visually good it is to focus on how good for the eater it is - it was cool. i'm quitting my job soon. who knows, i might apply to the pancake place they're putting in.

anyway this was just a neat day, and i thought you might find it interesting. i hope you're doing well, and congrats again on blind trust !

God I loved reading this. Your descriptions of these two conflicting environments ring so true in my head. I'm gonna go ahead and drop a read more because I do have some food thoughts related to this and I'm also feeling like rambling.

Because we've all been there, right? The type of fancy bakery that sells a cake for like six dollars that looks amazing but is mostly moose or like stale almond cake. Macaroons are so enticing in theory, but because of the effort it takes to actually make them in the way they're intended they're surprisingly difficult to do right. You have a good macaroon and it's fucking worth 4 dollars, though. The combination of the crisp outer shell with the plush meringue and thick frosting. Plus they come in fun flavors - rose, lavender, earl grey. Yum yum. But a bad one just turns into paste in your mouth.

One of my favorite things in the world is what I call a medium-fancy dessert. It's usually a cake for me, although gelato would also suffice. It's something that feels fancy without losing that base level of quality and satisfaction. There's a bakery in Portland that stocks a 24-hour vending machine with their cakes (I know man it's crazy), and they're a pretty solid source of medium-fancy treats. They look pretty, but they have a ratio of soft, moist cake to quality frosting that really gives you a filling experience.

If that's not accessible, tiramisu works nearly every time for me. Plus it's not usually that more expensive than other cakes.

Compare that to smaller, usually immigrant-run restaurants that sometimes choose to let the quality of their food speak over the aesthetics of the storefront. What comes to mind when I imagine that is Sivalai Thai Restaurant, which is my favorite place for Thai food in my part of Portland. That's saying a lot too, since there are a TON of Thai places here for some reason.

Riley and I order from there a lot, and the portions are really good. The Thai Iced Tea is delicious. But I'm always impressed by the little touches the owners add - mainly how they always throw in a free portion of mango sticky rice, but also that they don't mind packaging a container of their Prik Nam Pla, which is like my favorite Asian condiment ever. It's Thai chilis and green onion in fish sauce and it is this insane mixture of sweet tanginess and sharp, fresh spice. I just learned how to make a vegan version from scratch and it's changed my life.

What I've loved to do in food service is combine these two experiences. I worked at Zupan's which is a boutique grocery store here in the Pacific Northwest, and one of my favorite things to do was provide an extra homey quality to the place that is otherwise asking you to pay like seven dollars for a bag of Doritos.

We had a different meat special at the deli every day, and on Sunday (I think) it was prime rib. Like, actual prime rib - very good, very expensive. A serving for one person would be like thirty bucks. We were allowed to give out samples though, so I'd summon like everyone I saw and invite them to try it.

They'd all love it, of course. It was fucking spectacular. Crispy, but with the perfect amount of rich fat and meat. Delectably salty. Rubbed with herbs and spices that would char as it smoked on the grills outside the store. It was truly remarkable stuff - but I'm not about to push cooked meat that's like sixty bucks a pound, maybe more.

What I would say, though, is that while Sunday is our prime rib roast day, we cut the ribs off in advance and cook them up for people to buy on Monday. So you can essentially get the deliciousness of the prime rib for like a forth of the price. People always seemed to like to hear that.

Food takes care of people, you know? And the people that serve food also take care of people. And I've always found that to be an incredibly important thing. If I am ever in a situation where I have to go back to a conventional full-time job, I'm far more likely to go back to food service than copywriting. I feel like I did much more good waiting tables at a Denny's than I did writing pest control websites for my bullshit media job.

[linkemon]

Raining chocolates (Jack Frost x Reader)

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you’re interested.

Other oneshots can be found here.

[ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] ᴀɴᴅ ᴊᴀᴄᴋ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇʟʏ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ᴠɪᴇᴡꜱ ᴏɴ ᴠᴀʟᴇɴᴛɪɴᴇ'ꜱ ᴅᴀʏ. ɪᴛ'ꜱ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʀᴀɪɴ ᴄʜᴏᴄᴏʟᴀᴛᴇꜱ!

ᴀᴅᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ɪɴꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ:

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴘɪʀɪᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴠᴀʟᴇɴᴛɪɴᴇ'ꜱ ᴅᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴜᴀʀᴅɪᴀɴ ᴏꜰ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.

ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅʟʏ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴇɴɢʟɪꜱʜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ. ɪ ᴛʀʏ ᴍʏ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ʙᴜᴛ ᴀɴʏ ᴛɪᴘꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇᴅ.

— Are they arguing again? — Tooth looked uncertainly towards the hall.

— Yes but at least the chocolate boxes are flying! — North caught the package mid-flight.

Satisfied, he tore the dark red, shiny paper. Inside he found a mixture of pralines. He was trying to decide which flavour he should choose when a snowball flew above his head. Unfazed, he decided to eat the entire package at once.

— Maybe we should separate them? — The fairy was nervously flying next to the fireplace.

— That's what I'm talking about! — The Bunny wiped the snow from his face.

Judging by the dirt on his paws, he had just jumped out of the tunnel. He didn't like the welcome snowball straight to the forehead.

— I do not see a problem. — Santa continued to eat the best nut chocolates.

He was interrupted by a loud bang.

He rushed towards the argument. The corridor looked like a battlefield. The entire batch of robots was lying on the floor. Dolls and blocks followed suit. The production machine turned off. There were screws and wires sticking out of it. The paint poured straight onto the carpet, dyeing it rainbow colors. Yeti, in charge of production, was sitting in the corner. He covered his head with one paw and stuffed chocolate hearts with the other. Two Guardians stood in the colourful chaos.

— Valentine's Day should be joyful! — Jack Frost was making a new snowball in his hands.

— Get on with your job! — [Reader] deftly dodged the throw.

— North, good to have you here! Tell her. Love is a beautiful, joyful feeling, isn't it? So the holiday should be like that too! — he said as if it were the most obvious truth.

— You know nothing! Who is the Spirit of Valentine's Day here? You or me?

The girl took out her bow. In a second, she reached for an arrow from the pink quiver. She was already drawing the string when a loud voice interrupted her:

— Enough of this! I don't care who started it — North added as the two prepared to explain. — You'll clean it all up. Every single toy, got it?

***

— You know what she once told me? — North put his arm around Jack. — That love is ten percent joy and ninety percent suffering. Do not interrupt me. — He glared as he saw the guard open his mouth. — She has good reason to think so. I don't agree with her but I don't question her work and neither should you.

They had already passed the main hall and three floors and the boy was beginning to wonder where they were going. It took him a while to understand the purpose of the strangely long trip.

North grabbed him by the hood and then unceremoniously pushed him over the threshold of the room. When the boy heard the lock click, he knew something was up.

— But it's a bit inhumane. — He heard Toothiana's voice from behind the door.

— They didn't act like humans when they demolished the quarters! And now they will sit there until they make up!

The winter spirit yanked on the doorknob. Unsuccessfully.

He turned around and saw what he feared most. [Reader] was sitting on the couch. She was slowly realizing the situation they were in. A closed room without windows made escape impossible. If they want to leave, they have to come to an agreement.

He walked over to the sofa and sat down on the opposite end from his companion. He stared stubbornly at the fireplace. Orange flames licked the pieces of wood. They produced unbearable heat. The winter spirit didn't like it. He would much rather have the fire extinguished but he had no intention of moving. [Reader] was getting cold quickly. Why did he even care? He convinced himself that it would escalate the argument and left it at that. Because there's no way he would care about her...

Out of boredom, he started counting the seconds. He wanted to estimate the time he would spend in the room. However, he quickly gave up. Instead, he pulled the nearest pillow, placed it under his head, and decided to take a nap.

— Did he bring you here too, saying he wanted to talk? — The spirit of Valentine's Day couldn't stand the silence.

— Yeah — he muttered.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the girl shift uncomfortably.

— So maybe we can pretend we've made up and just leave here, huh?

The boy turned his head towards her. He hadn't expected it but the idea was tempting.

— I'm in. — He smiled mischievously.

He was already getting up from the couch when the plan backfired.

— I heard everything, you cheaters. You two should really get along! — Santa shouted from behind the door. — I'll know if you lied to me!

There was a slight threat in his tone.

— North, you weren't supposed to eavesdrop! — Toothiana's loud voice joined the conversation. — Don't disturb mind him, little ones! — she added sweetly.

For a moment, a scuffle could be heard. Then the sounds gradually faded away. Apparently they're gone.

Resigned, the boy sat back down between the soft pillows. Now the idea of using tricks stopped running through his mind. First of all, it would be suspicious. Secondly, although he didn't want to admit it, he was a little afraid of the Guardian of Christmas. His pleasant exterior concealed a weird man.

He decided to look at the room. Unfortunetely, it was empty. The brown boards were starting to get old. The wallpaper with a motif of red and green baubles was eye-catching. The thick, heavy curtains showed traces of dust. Frost preferred not to know the last time someone decided to swipe it out. Seeing the gray layer on the mantelpiece, he felt the urge to clean the room. Unfortunately, even if he wanted to kill time this way, he had no way to do it. The yeti probably took out the rest of the furniture. As always. Why were they doing this? Nobody knew that. When asked about this, the creatures grunted in their own language and continued doing their thing. For this reason, rearrangements in the quarters were frequent. Sometimes even the owner of the bed woke up in a different place than where he fell asleep.

Unfortunately, the tour did not kill the boredom. It was too short.

Jack sat behind the couch and started playing with his staff. He conjured two snow hares. He bet on who would reach the finish line first. He set his end point at the other end of the room. Later he started changing animal species. He wasn't having the best time but he couldn't think of anything else.

— Can you make buildings too? — [Reader]'s voice came from above.

She leaned out from the couch, looking at the frosty creations jumping, running, crawling, and swimming across the floor.

— Yes, of course. Any special requests? — He turned around.

It was a reflex. The Guardian of Fun did not refuse to give joy to others. Especially when it was within his capabilities. Only after a while did it occur to him that they were still quarreling, so maybe he shouldn't break away so eagerly.

— Could you make a hut?

Frost's first instinct was to create his family home but he suspected that wasn't the point.

— A little more sloping roof — added the girl — and an orchard on the left.”

The boy listened attentively, following the instructions. Soon, a snow model was created. The house was surrounded by a fence. Little cows and pigs were grazing nearby. They were also accompanied by a troop of hens led by a rooster. The Spirit of Winter had a slight problem with the flowers. He didn't know much and suspected that the garden turned out hopelessly. But he had trees in his little finger. Probably because he often jumped on them, playing with the wind.

— I guess that's all.

He didn't even notice when the Guardian of Love took a seat next to him on the hard boards. She stared as if enchanted at the image stretching before her. The smile that graced her face let him know that he had done a good job after all. There was a lot of melancholy in her look.

— It this your home? — he asked.

— Yeah... — She touched a small sheep in the middle of the pasture. — It was until... until I became... you know.

Dead. This word came to mind. Their friends would probably think about their jobs. They'd put it more like: Before I became a Guardian... They stopped being alive a long time ago. However, like him, she was relatively young. As young as you can be after several hundred years. She still remembered.

— I drowned. — He felt like his own voice sounded foreign.

Why exactly did he tell her that? After all, she didn't ask him anything.

However, he continued the story when he saw her break away from the model.

Jack still remembered the brown, worn-out skates. He rode them across the frozen lake. He was fourteen then. He was doing quite well. No one in the village could ride so nimbly. His younger sister was just studying. She took uncertain steps. She was getting better and better. After all, she was doing it under his supervision. And yet, that afternoon, it would all end. The crunch of ice that heralded disaster was still ringing in his ears. He tried to get Mary to jump aside. Just like in Hopscotch — a game he once invented. He failed and instinctively used the staff. It was enough to push her to safety. However, he landed underwater himself. The feeling of momentary relief was replaced by shock. He tried desperately to breathe. Jack couldn't find any support for his hands. The cold seeped into his bones. He was unable to get out of the icy water. The longer he fought, the faster he lost strength. Later, in a hazy memory, he still remembered going to the bottom. Jack was surrounded by darkness and piercing cold. He closed his eyes from exhaustion. The next time he opened his eyes, the Moon was above him. Then he was spared a second life. So much time had passed, and yet the memory was still fresh. Especially after he lost them to the Black and fought to get them back.

[Reader] wordlessly placed her hand on his own. She didn't say anything but he knew she understood. It wasn't easy to forget about your death. Nor come to terms with a lost life but watching the people he loved grow old and pass away seemed the cruelest thing to him.

— They sentenced me to beheading — she said in a quiet voice.

He didn't push. He had no right to do this. He was surprised when she continued.

The story began with an ordinary day in the countryside with her boyfriend. He was a serious candidate for a fiancé. He worked as a castle assistant. Frost began to wonder exactly how many years ago the Spirit of Valentine's Day had died. If she remembered such times, she must have been older than he had previously thought. Due to these thoughts, Jack lost the thread of the story until she started talking about the theft.

Thanks to his work, the boy easily stole a jewel from a rich lord's box. As luck would have it, the family brooch would attract the attention of every neighbour in the area. Lack of sufficient caution resulted in a denunciation. The devastated [Reader] didn't know what to do. Until he said he wanted to spend the money on a wedding. Something broke inside her. Ultimately, what tipped the scales was the fact that he had a family to support. She was just an orphan working on a farm. She decided to sacrifice herself. With a heavy heart, she went to the castle, where she confessed her guilt. No one asked how on earth she could do it, since no one would even let her into the salons. Yet the court seemed satisfied. No attention was even paid to the lies and ambiguities. They omitted the absurdities contained in them. Another head-to-head trial meant a quicker break.

From the whole story, one sentence stuck in Frost's mind: I will never love anyone like I love you. This is what the thief promised to the Spirit of Valentine's Day before she sacrificed herself for him. He sensed this would be important from the way she quoted it. As if she had engraved it in her memory, somewhere deep in her mind.

— Do you know what happened when I got a second life? — she sighed. — That I died just so he could marry another woman. He waited a week. Week. Apparently he was counting on my naivety and he succeeded. — She went back to playing with the snow model.

— I'm sorry. — He wasn't sure if a cliché could do any good.

Such sentences rarely brought relief. They were repeated out of habit. Probably because people had no words for certain situations.

— You don't have to be sorry. — She smiled slightly. — You gave me a lot of joy, as befits the Guardian of Fun. I was able to see the farm where I grew up once again.

— Have you been there?

— A few times. Today there are lots of apartment blocks there. It has changed over the years. —  She shrugged and looked at him. — Do you know why I told you all this?

He thought she was trying to repay history for history. And yet this wasn't the answer she was counting on. So he fell silent.

— Because I see love differently than you. Over the course of four hundred and fifty-two years, I have encountered so many different shades of this feeling that you can't even imagine. I consoled those crying after the loss of loved ones. I have seen mothers sacrifice themselves for the sake of their children. How people die from diseases, away from their loved ones. And also how they spend their old age together and overcome problems together. That's why I think I'm a better Guardian of Love than the Spirit of Valentine's Day. I help people celebrate what is important every day. This one day of the year is not that special. So please don't interfere with my work anymore, she concluded. — I'll stay in my quarters on the 14th. This holiday will be fine without me, just like before.

— Let's say I agree, although I still think you should go out and see people having fun... — He noticed how much she wanted to interrupt him —...but I won't question the way you work anymore. Okay? — He held out his hand.

— Okay. Now let's go shout some more. Maybe they'll hear that it's time to let us go. There is absolutely nothing to do here.

***

— If this is some stupid joke, I swear you'll get an arrow up your ass… — [Reader] muttered.

Jack didn't blame her for complaining. She was blindfolded, so he led her by the hand. He didn't think this through. He should have handed it over only at the bottom of the stairs. So he had to deal with an uncomfortable situation for three floors. He even offered to let them fly with a staff but the Guardian of Love wouldn't hear of it.

— Almost there! — He removed the cloth, revealing the headquarters.

He was glad that the yetis had managed to repaint the decorations. The blue color would spoil the whole effect. Now they could admire the rows of red and pink hearts. They decorated every corner. Soft pillows in the same color were placed on the sofa and in front of it. They also managed to repair the TV. Although there was never any reception here, the player worked flawlessly. Tooth was sorting through a pile of old films. Bunny kept complaining that she only chose romantic comedies. He preferred to see a bloody horror movie. Sandy was almost asleep standing up, sending sand hearts up from time to time. Behind him, on the table, there were mixed chocolates. North was stuffing himself with them, so Frost kept the rest of his food supplies in his room. Otherwise, they might run out quickly and the fun was only just beginning.

— Why doesn't this surprise me? — The girl rubbed her temple.

— Just so we're clear, I'm not interfering with your work. —  He rested his head on his staff. — I do my duty. I jumped at the chance and we're going to have a fun evening.

He gave her his trademark smile. He was surprised to see that she didn't yell at him after all. He was secretly pleased with it, although he hadn't counted on it. She also seemed to be having a good time with her friends.

Valentine's Day night passed quickly. Hardly anyone made it to the morning. After three movies, most Guardians were teary-eyed. Jack sat between the snoring Bunny and [Reader], who was sprawled on his shoulder. He was uncomfortable but he didn't move. He didn't want to wake anyone up. The movie was still playing. Frost didn't focus on the plot. Everything that was happening started to escape him a few scenes ago. He pulled a small heart out of his sweatshirt pocket. They handed out shiny pieces of paper to each other. Everyone had to write something nice about the other person. They promised not to read them until the next day but purely theoretically the new day had already lasted for several hours. So he smiled to himself, satisfied with this justification and opened all the Valentines one by one.

Thank you.

That one word let him know he had done a good job. Maybe next year he'll be able to take her out to celebrate with others.

PS Will you be my Valentine?

This sentence, in turn, sent a rush of heat through him. He was used to embarrassing others, not being  embarassed. And certainly not like this. The matter was explained by the other side of the heart. Marked with marker:

YOU'VE BEEN FOOLED!

He promised himself that he would never admit that she was right. In the morning he will pretend that he saw it after all. This was the plan. However, somewhere in the corner of his mind there was the thought of what he would do if it wasn't a joke...

[schelamski]

Tendo Satori in "On and about with the hq-boys"🛫

-a series of airport drabbles.

Previous: Hinata Shoyo “My friends get so annoyed by how much I talk about you sometimes”

Next: Nishinoya Yu “Your cuteness is making everyone stare. Stop it.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Look what I made for you! Do you like it?”

The day had finally arrived. After six long months of waiting your boyfriend would finally visit Japan. Tendo had made a name out of himself as a chocolatier and was working in Paris in a famous chocolaterie. This was also the place where you two met each other for the first time. Though back then, you were with another guy, who bought you some tasty pralines for Valentine’s Day in the place were Tendo was working. Unfortunately, it was the same day you found out that he had been cheating on you for quite some time. In a state of shock, you were running out of the apartment and back to the chocolaterie, where Tendo was about to close the shop. With a face smeared with tears, he couldn’t just dismiss you, so he let you in. After helping you with some chocolate-covered strawberries while listening to you whining about your relationship, he helped you figure everything out. Without him you probably wouldn’t have stayed the week in a different hotel than your boyfriend, while exploring the city on your own and picking up Tendo from his shift to grab something to eat in the afternoon. Since you to got along so well, it was only natural to exchange numbers and keep in touch before you headed back to Japan. In the last six months you facetimed almost on a daily basis, never running out of things to share with each other. While in the beginning you were still to hurt from your former relationship to develop any new feelings, it didn’t take long for you to notice all the excitement piling up in your body after a long day without talking to Tendo. And when he would finally pick up his phone, his voice would never stop to send shivers down your spine. Luckily, Tendo was feeling the same way about you, so for two months now he picked up the phone to talk to his beautiful girlfriend. Unable to keep the distance any longer he had planned a trip to Japan, to spend time with you in the same time-zone. Nobody could tell which one of your smiles was bigger when you finally were able to hug your boyfriend, let alone kiss him. In this moment you both knew, that all the waiting had paid off. Expecting to leave the airport, you were grabbing his hand and about to start walking when he pulled you close.

“Wait, I have something for you.”

He started to look in his bag, while you looked at him expectantly.

“Ahhh…no, not this one, this is for coach Washijo.

 Maybe this one? Nope, that’s Ushijima.

Oh here! I placed it in a box, yours is the one I didn’t want to crush. “   

Opening the box, you found some chocolate-covered strawberries, just like the one you ate when you met for the second time.

“Look what I made for you! Do you like it?”

“Do I like it? Are you joking? I love it! Thank you so much, Satori!

“Well then, I´m glad! I know that when we first met you were out of a relationship as fresh as one can be, but I knew back then what I also know now, that I want to love you, like you deserve it!”

Almost crying, you told him that you loved him too, while thinking about eating one of these incredible strawberries.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[rainybubbles]

How did the Haikyuu boys confess to you ? part 1

Part 1- Akaashi, Osamu, Bokuto, Kenma

A K A A S H I :

-A poem.

-But not in a cringe way in front of everyone like you did during the mother's day with your mother trying to encourage you because "The sky is blue, i love you" is not the maximum of the literature.

-(Sorry buddy)

-So you were colleagues and during one reunion you talked about your tastes in books and you found out it was similar.

-One day you decided to lend him a book he wanted to read and which you had at home.

-He thanked you and...your exchanges had started.

-But there was a strange thing.

-When you're lending something to someone.

-Like your grandma, or some book.

-You expect them to give it back to you.

(sorry granny)

-But not Akaashi.

-You tried giving him back the books he lent to you but he always had an excuse or telling you, you could him them until the next time you made an exchange and...

-And you have thirty of his books at your home.

-You didn't question why.

-But today.

-Sick.

-Bored.

-And alone.

-The question was here.

-Why ?

-So you decided to reread some of the books.

-Maybe he didn't like them ?

-But again one of them was his favorite with many his own notes on the pages.

-And-

-Wait.

-All those books had a common point.

-They had pinky words in it.

-It didn't make sense the first time you saw it because there was no annotation, it was like random word like a "a" that was highlight in pink.

-You decided to search them and wrote them in the order of when he lent you the books.

-Slowly you found a phrase.

-"A university degree, four books, and hundreds of articles and I still make mistakes when reading,

You write to me "good morning" and I read it as, "I love you"."

Mahmoud Darwish.

-You stared the quotation.

-And slowly smiled.

-Because you knew it was not a coincidence and you're the only one he lent his books.

-He did this for you.

-You took your phone and texted.

-"Good Morning Akaashi."

-And he replied.

-"Finally."

O S A M U :

-Classic he told you he hates you.

-...I-

-Maybe you need more context.

-So it was Valentine's Day.

-As the good chef he is, he decided to give you the most delicious handmade chocolates with a little note confessing his feelings.

-But Osamu forgot something in his equation.

-His twin.

-Twin who was happy to have a chocolate from Osamu this year, because usually he didn't make anything for him.

-Usually, Osamu only gave chocolates to their mother.

-So yes, when he saw three bags of chocolate, he took the prettiest because he only deserves the best.

-Yes.

-In fact Osamu did bake chocolates for Atsumu.

-With liquor in it.

-To burn his throat.

-And with the inscriptions "I hate you" on it because he burnt his kitchen last month.

-So imagine the surprise when you opened the chocolates Osamu gave you and you found this.

-Osamu waited all the day.

-To have your answer.

-When he saw his brother with a big smile.

-"Ya know, your chocolates were cool 'Samu. Kinda like the praline one."

-Shook.

-Anger.

-And maybe disown his brother.

-Was what he was thinking at this moment.

-Because the praline was your chocolate.

-So he understood you received the most horrendous chocolates while his brother had yours.

-And now...you're thinking he hates you.

-He ignored the fake blond and called you quickly.

-But when your answer, he couldn't talk.

-"I'M SO SORRY OSAMU ! I mean, I... I should have apologized before. And I'm sorry I make you feel so uneasy with my act. I...I shouldn't look so intensely at your pectorals during all the match, but I- You...you're pretty and I had a crush and it's absolutely not an excuse to stare at someone. I'm so sorry I'm making you uncomfortable." you said quickly.

-Osamu froze up.

-"...wait- you...gaze at my pectorals?", he asked.

-"Yeah...is...is that not why you hate me ?", you stammered.

-"I- No, oh my god." He laughed."The chocolates you had were meant for Atsumu but he exchanged the bags and stole yours."

-"Oh."

-"So you like my pecs ?"

-"Osamu, can we forget about-"

-"I like you too."

-"Oh."

-"So stare at them next time we go on a date, is okay for you?"

-"I rather stare at your face honestly."

-"And I rather stare at your lips." he said, smirking.

-"You..."

-"Bye Y/N" He hung up with a smile.

B O K U T O :

-His grandma did it.

-So we know Bokuto can be clumsy.

-After a meeting with you, he had to share with someone how amazing you are, how he loves you and...

-"BRO I LOVE Y/N SO MUCH ! I WANT TO MARRY THEM"

-It was for Kuroo.

-But he sent it to his grandma.

-And it could end here.

-Like the grandma answered "Bo, darling you sent it to the wrong person."

-Yes but it was not the case.

-Because his grandma, Jacqueline, knew a Y/N, who was her neighbor.

-And Jacqueline was bored.

-Her zumba classes was cancelled and she had an argument with her best friend and sadly after this her bestie had a heart attack so she didn't have any best friend now to distract her.

-So guess what could entertain her?

-The love life of his grandson.

-So she baked some cookies and suddenly "realized" she didn't have any sugar.

-Guess who she could ask help?

-You.

-She waited for you going back to your home.

-And knocked at your door with her innocent face.

-You answered that of course you have sugar.

-She thanked you and asked if you wanted to bake with her because her poor hands were too weak to mix up some ingredients.

(She was not weak at all, she went to the gym every day and could lift up your dad AND mom together just with her arms)

-You said yes, because you're a kind person.

-Or maybe you can't say no when someone asks you something.

(go see a therapist Y/N, you need to say no sometimes)

-You ended up at her house.

-And when you asked how many eggs you needed, she told you to look on her phone.

-Guess what was on the phone.

-The text of Bokuto.

-You ended up blushing.

-You apologized and said you had some emergency and...

-And you called Bokuto to confess and told him the story.

-...he thought it was coincidence.

-But Jacqueline knew the truth.

-She was a perfect match maker.

-Maybe she could open a business with her fake meetings cookies.

K E N M A :

-You almost killed his cat accidentally.

-Here you can ask "where is the confession."

-Let me explain.

-You let a post-it on his streaming set-up with a "I like you more than a friend, do you want to go on a date together?"

-Because you knew you were not brave enough to tell him directly.

-And the only place he checked often was his set-up and his phone.

-But you find more romantic to write it on a note.

-Except that your note didn't stick to the screen.

-It flew to the ground.

-And guess who took this paper for something edible?

-Pudding.

-Kenma's cat.

-The problem was when he ate the note; he started suffocating.

-Kenma whe he heard his cat's cough, ran towards him and tried to help him.

-But he failed.

-He searched for the nearest vet's clinic and called you because he didn't have any car. And he needed to be as quick as possible to the vet.

-Of course you drove him and kept him company.

-But when he told you the events.

-Culpability went done to your stomach.

-You stared at the floor.

-"Kenma, I'm so sorry I- I think it's my fault."

-"Why ?"

-"I let a note to you on your PC, and...and I think Pudding ate it."

-"You...why did you let a note ?" he asked confused

-"It, I...I didn't want to tell that out loud. But it doesn't matter. Fuck, I kill your cat." you said horrified.

-"He's not dead." Kenma tried to reassure you.

-"Yeah but he...it's my fault."

-"Well it's not." a voice said.

-You looked up to see the vet.

-"Pudding had an allergic reaction to his new dry food which provoked the angioedema. Your note was not responsible. He was already suffocating."

-You felt relieved but stressed.

-"Is he okay now ?" Kenma asked.

-"Yes, but he needs rest and new foods. We have more tests to do, to identify exactly what is the component that provoked him this allergy."

-"Thanks sir." Kenma said.

-"That's my job. By the way, here's your note. We didn't know if you wanted it or not. "

-He gave you a plastic bag with your note in it.

-There was drool on it and it was kinda gross, but you could still read the message on it.

-So does Kenma.

-He stared at you, while you tried to look everywhere else like suddenly the yellow wall was interesting.

-"Yes." he said.

-"What ?"

-"Your question, the answer is yes."

-You opened your mouth and shut it before you felt something warm in your hand.

-You looked down.

-His fingers were intertwined with yours.

-It was a small gesture.

-But it told you everything.

Sorry for the mistakes, English is not my first language !Don't hesitate to correct me if I made any mistakes by the way !!!

If you want more : my masterlist

[mabelstone]

okay but.. hear me out on this.. song one shot of 'Diet Mountain Dew' by Lana Del Rey!!! (you can pick who it is :)) - the same person who asked for enchanted!!

White Pontiac Heaven

matt stone x reader

one of my fav lana songs ever, thank you for the req <3

summary: you're know you're just the 'side piece,' but his secretive, sweet nothings are enough to keep you wanting more

CW: cigarette smoking, fingering, oral sex while driving (m receiving), size kink if u squint super hard, the term "pretty p*ssy" is thrown around a few times soz, I DON'T CONDONE UNSAFE DRIVING!! we have beds for a reason

focus lyrics:

there in his white pontiac heaven; do you think we'll be in love forever?

take another drag, turn me to ashes, ready for another lie

you're no good for me, but baby, i want you

You always made an effort to look pretty for him, knowing you'd succeeded each time he complimented you. You had your hair in a half up, half down do, a white ribbon wrapped around your loose curls. You wore a matching thigh length satin dress with three inch heels with a dainty golden buckle.

He picked met you outside, standing beside his new convertible. Always such a show off. He wolf whistled as you walked toward him, causing your cheeks to match the pretty pink panties he'd later take off you.

"Good morning, Matt," you blushed as you reached the car.

He took your hand in his, brazenly scanning your outfit as he took your hand, leading you to the passenger side. "It is a good morning, isn't it?"

"So, how long are you planning on keeping this one?"

"Until I get bored, I guess," he chuckled, slamming your door before slipping into the drivers side. The car was nice, ridiculously shiny, all red leather interior with an old fashioned steering wheel.

"So give it, what, three months?" You teased, sliding on your sunglasses as it was your turn to watch him now.

"Don't act like you're complaining, sweetheart." He started the ignition, defined muscles flexing with every movement. He wore a white cotton button down with the sleeves rolled up slightly, black slacks hugging his lower half. Short praline curls that moved delicately in the breeze, sunglasses of his own hiding those enchanting emerald eyes.

"I'm not," you defended with a soft smile. His hand found its way to your thigh, your heart leaping in your chest. "Where're we going?"

"Canadaigua Lake," he smiled back, eyes still glued to the road. "Smoke?" He asked, pulling his hand away from your thigh to open the glovebox, pulling out a pack of Marlboro's. You never were a smoker, but you knew he liked it when you joined in with him.

You nodded, taking a cigarette from the box and placing it between your lips. Left hand still on the wheel, he used his right hand to light the cigarette, you cupping your own in front of the lighter so the wind wouldn't extinguish the flame. You took a drag, the burn that was growing all too familiar gracing your tongue and throat, the thick, heavy, yet soft smoke spreading through your chest. He grinned at you from his seat, "you're getting good, you know."

You picked up another cigarette, placing it between his lips this time. You cupped your hands around the lighter for him as you did for yourself, watching the tip of the cigarette turn red as he took a drag.

"At what, smoking?"

He nodded, taking another long drag. He blew the smoke out into the open air, eyes on the road as he affirmed, "mm, turns me on."

"Yeah?" You blushed, already getting that tingling feeling inside you that seemed to creep up on you far quicker with Matt than any other sexual partner.

"What you got on under that?" He gestured to your dress, already halfway through his cigarette.

You pulled your dress up by the hemming enough to reveal your panties and your lower stomach, your stomach flipping at the soft groan that escaped his lips.

"Are those new?"

"Mhm, got new ones just for you." You went to pull the dress back down when you were halted by Matt's swift hand, switching his smoke to his hand on the wheel, careful to not burn your dress.

You moved your hands, letting him take over. You brought your own cigarette back to your lips, blinking innocently at him over the top of your glasses. "So you like them?"

"Take them off," he instructed, fingers now hooking into the top of the silky material.

"You're driving," you protested, yet his hands didn't move, only impatiently tugging at them now.

You pushed yourself up by your heels, cigarette between your teeth as you slipped your panties down, pulling them off around your ankles and placing them in Matt's expectant hand, which was now extended for you.

You were driving on a long open road, and there were hardly any other cars around, so you felt... as safe as you could, I guess. Any rationality you had, however, was thrown out the window when he brought the pink silk to his mouth, licking over the wet patch that had formed embarrassingly early.

You breath hitched in your throat at the sight, moving your legs out of the way as he slipped your panties into his glovebox. You threw the rest of your cigarette out of the car. His fingers found their way to your folds, sliding his fingers through your slick, sending a shudder through your body. He pulled his fingers away, running his tongue over your arousal.

"Tastes so good," he groaned, fingers immediately moving back to your heat, rubbing small circles into your clit. Your legs reflexively spread, your small hand placed on top of his much larger one, impatiently guiding his fingers to your entrance. He chuckled deeply, abandoning his own cigarette butt before slipping a digit into your tight entrance. The feeling caused you to throw your head back, his talented, slender fingers deep enough inside of you to blur your vision. He slipped in another, a pretty gasp tripping over your tongue and falling past your lips, your back arching under his touch.

"Touch yourself too, wanna feel that pretty pussy cum."

You nodded, pretty much on autopilot, your fingers slipping down to circle your clit. He continued to fuck you with his fingers, occasionally scissoring them, the prettiest sounds of approval leaving your mouth.

"Matt," you whimpered, your legs beginning to tremble as your orgasm got closer and closer.

"Don't stop, baby," he coaxed, his fingers sinking deeper into your heat, hitting your g-spot repeatedly, your breathing growing erratic.

Your head fell back against the headrest, rolling your head to the side to watch him. One hand on the wheel, the other pumping relentlessly, your climax approaching tenfold. He looked to you, hooded eyelids shifting between you and the road, soft words of encouragement leaving his mouth.

"Matt, I- mmh-"

"That's it baby, cum for me," he spurred, struggling to focus on the road as you came undone around his fingers, whining a mantra of obscenities and his name as you internally convulsed with pleasure. "God, you're so fucking good, good girl."

You rode out your orgasm, legs trembling uncontrollably, eyes rolling to the back of your head, swiftly pulling his hand away when you became too sensitive.

"I should pull over and fuck you right now," he confessed, fingers finding their way back to his mouth as he sucked them clean.

"Let me return the favour," you offered breathlessly, unbuckling your seatbelt as you turned to face him. He grinned down at you, watching your nimble fingers make quick work of discarding his belt, tossing it by your feet. You unzipped his fly, pulling his briefs down to free his painfully hard cock, already leaking with precum.

Wasting no time, you wrapped your lips around the pretty pink tip, swirling your tongue around it, tasting his arousal this time. He let out a gasp when your soft lips met his tip, feminine whines replacing his soft gaps when your lips slid down his shift. You hollowed your cheeks as you took more of him, sliding your mouth up and down, tongue flat against his shaft, just the way he liked it. His fingers thread into your hair, urging you to take more of him. You breathed deep through your nose, taking his full length, your nose connecting with the soft tuft of hair on his pubic bone.

"Don't you dare stop," he warned, his grip on your hair tightening as he began guiding you along his length. You hummed in understanding, swallowing around him to your best abilities. You quickened your pace, continuing to swirl your tongue each time you reached the tip, feeling his cock flex against your tongue. His hand reached down to your ass, his arm long enough to slip under you, fingers wedging into you once again.

You moaned around him as he toyed with your clit, the vibrations causing him to moan out, knuckles white from how hard he was gripping the wheel. He bucked his hips slightly, causing you to gag around him. The combination of your warm mouth around him with your pussy around his fingers was enough to send him far over the edge, "I'm gonna cum, baby."

His voice pitchy, grip on your hair so tight that tears pricked at your eyes, hot ribbons of cum shooting across your tongue. You continued swallowing around him, the taste of him dripping down your throat. He moaned like a female pornstar, your pussy throbbing at the sound alone. You slowly pulled off, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, lips dark red and swollen.

"Holy fuck, I nearly crashed," he laughed breathily, swiping a finger over your lips tenderly.

"Is there a roof for this thing?"

(did not proof read)

[mamawasatesttube]

38 for the dialogue prompt… maybe with some bart and kon?

also prompted by an anon!

38. "I'm going to be sick."

There are upsides to getting sent to New Orleans to deal with a surprise villain attack, starring Metallo. Like the pecan pralines from this one shop near the French Quarter that Wally has never shut up about since Bart's known him. Or the cajun fries. Or the beignets.

There are also downsides. Like the heat and the humidity. Seriously, how does anyone live down here? Running interference, and then helping with cleanup, has never been sweatier. Why'd that asshole have to damage so many buildings, anyway?

At least Café du Monde is still intact. Rob promised he'd buy everyone beignets and coffee when everything's settled, and Bart's gonna hold him to that.

...Except that right now, he kinda doesn't want to eat. Probably 'cuz it's so hot out. But it is kinda weird to not be hungry after a big battle.

Oh well. Shit needs doing, so shit's gotta get done, and Bart's gonna be a shit-doer. He chugs some tepid water from the bottle at his hip, grimaces as nausea pulses through his stomach, and starts to run again.

Five minutes later, his legs give out.

It comes as a shock: one moment he's moving some debris to free a couple trapped cars in an alleyway, and the next, his leg cramps up so bad that for a second he swears he's just gotten shot again, and he goes crashing to the ground before he even realizes he's falling.

What the fuck?!

Sweaty, exhausted, nauseous, in pain, and miserable, Bart gives up. Something's wrong, but he can't figure out what. Someone else can handle that; he digs his thumbs into the meat of his calf and whines, "Kooooon..."

A whoosh of air and a red, blue, and black blur drop out of the sky almost instantly. Kon, damn his Kryptonian genes, isn't sweating at all; his cyan gaze pierces right through Bart as he drops to his knees next to him. "Imp! What's the matter?"

Bart groans, stomach churning. His leg still hurts like a bitch. "I think," he says, "I'm gonna be sick." He whines again.

Kon's eyes widen. He reaches for Bart's shoulders to help him sit up, then hisses. "Shit, dude, you're burning up! Have you had any water?"

Bart nods miserably. Now why the hell is he shivering? That seems wrong. Uuugghhh, he's so nauseous. "Jus' a minute ago. Made me feel more sick. I don't think water's supposed to do that. It's just so fucking hoooot..."

"Oh, man. Okay. I think you're overheating, buddy." Kon exhales slowly; the air he blows out over Bart's face is blessedly cool, and Bart almost topples over from his precarious sitting position just trying to lean further into it. "Yup, okay. Gotta get you somewhere cooler."

"But... the cleanup," Bart balks.

"Dude." Kon gives him a disappointed look—aw, beans, that's his disappointed Ma Kent look. Bart would squirm under his gaze, if he wasn't so close to puking. "It's, like, literally a hundred and ten degrees out, and super humid, and you've always run hot even without strenuous shit like a villain fight. Muscle cramps? Nausea? Feeling faint? Classic symptoms of heat exhaustion."

As he speaks, he gathers Bart up in his arms; Bart whines again, just to reiterate that this sucks balls, but then a tendril of TTK works its way along his cramping leg and presses in against his aching muscle just right, and he shuts up instantly. Fuuuck, that feels good.

"What are you?" he mumbles, a full second or two late. "WebMD? Why do you know all that off the top of your head?"

Kon snorts. He blows cool air against Bart's sticky forehead again, rising into the air in a smooth arc (Bart appreciates that, because neither of them would have a good time if he emptied his stomach all over them both mid-flight). "Imp, c'mon. They programmed field medicine into my head back in the tube, man."

"Oh." Bart huffs. "That makes sense." He lets his head loll against Kon's shoulder as Kon picks up speed; the Mississippi River sparkles in the sun far below. "Where're we going?"

"Back to base," Kon answers. The air up here is cooler; Bart sighs in relief. "You're gonna sit in a cool shower, and I'm getting you some Gatorade."

Kon's always so good at taking care of him, Bart thinks. His leg already feels way better. Of course, he can't just say that normally. "Okay, mom."

Kon scoffs. "Excuse me for being a good friend who worries about you!"

"You're excused," Bart assures him, closing his eyes.

For a few moments, the whistling of the wind is the only sound. Then Bart heaves a massive sigh.

"Hey, Kon?"

"Yeah, bud?"

"I still want beignets later. Can you make sure Rob remembers?"

Kon's rumble of laughter reverberates through his chest as the clouds pass them by. "Yeah, Imp," he promises. "I'll be sure to let him know."