#Strawberry Cookie Shake

[thepanvelite]

Waffle Day 2024: A Sweet Adventure in New Panvel

Waffle Day 2024: Surprise crowd led to delightful discovery at The Bombay Fries.

So, it was Waffle Day 2024, July 19th to be exact, and we had our hearts set on indulging at the Belgian Waffle Company in New Panvel. But, oh boy, were we in for a surprise! The place was packed with a crowd that could rival a concert. When we say it was easier to get booze on a Friday night, we mean it. The liquor store next door was less crowded than the waffle shop. So, we decided to ditch…

[burnt-cookii]

fun halloween dress-up stuff

{ cameo : devil cake cookie [c] @raynastar03 }

[spacebubblehomebase]

Your art looks so yummy and soft it tastes like soft ice-scream with different flavours for each character. GIVE ME MOREEEEEEEEEE

THIS MAKES ME SO HAPPYYY!!! 💙💙💙💙💙

HOW'D YOU KNOW!!!? No one has ever connected those dots for YEARS!!! 👀 See my headline? "With Love Of Every Flavor..." That's something I wrote in my adolescence which I just never bothered to change. It pertains to my posts and how I make them with love (you can cringe), but I also purposely used it to allude to- you literally guessed it- ICE CREAM!!! Which, according to my family, I was infamously obsessed with. STILL super obsessed with actually! (Tho in my defense, the Philippines is hotter than HELL rn.) So yes! I do see my own art as scoops of ice cream. Have been for- again -YEARS! Besides a "space bubble" for introverts -and people who simply love in a different flavor- to feel safe in, that's EXACTLY what I wanted my art to be seen as!!! Which is why I mostly draw sweet things. (Key word: Mostly.) I wanted to convey the giddiness I feel whenever I eat ice cream with my art. So hearing you say that, tho I know naming the taste of an artist's work isn't all that new, really feels like an achievement! THANK YOU!!! ...Okay. Now that you made it this far through my sappy sugar rush induced writing, I know I went off on a tangent, but since ya'll have been really hyping me up lately, how about an update? On my AU? Just a short and sweet reward? Nothing big. Not much lore, but let's saaaaay... it'll beeeee... today? 🫣 Hehe. More, indeed. ^v^ Stay Tuned~! -Bubbly💙

[ralofofriverwoods]

Sigh. It happened again. The COD headcannons grow stronger each passing day

Today’s new addition is pastry cookie! not too out of the realm of possibility, as far as everything goes. She kinda just wears her shadow sister outfit but that’s ok :)

Explanation will be under the image(not quite sure how to do cuts yet, bear with me,,)((edit: I figured out how to add cuts :D))

Essentially, after the events of the tower of sweet chaos, she went to reverend mother about her doubt a little more in depth than she should have, which led to an assassination attempt by the shadow sisters. She successfully evaded the first few attempts, but a week or two after running away from the order another one caught up to her, which she ended up killing(albeit on accident). This marked her giving up on the order completely, as she decided to start looking for a new place to rebuild her life. Eventually she ran into licorice when he was out, and they had a quick chat(with a little bit of fighting((a lot of fighting)))

After beating the shit out of each other for a while they decided to call it quits and talk through it like adults, so maybe one of them could come out of the encounter still breathing. Lico came to the conclusion that maybe she would be a good fit in the CoD after all, and went to dark enchantress with the hopes to bring her into their ranks. Dark enchantress didn’t like the idea at all(since pastry tried to murder her son and all that), however with some convincing from lico and, surprisingly, red velvet himself, she allowed pastry to come in on a trial basis to see if she would be a good fit.

Pastry, for the most part, was pretty chill once she got acclimated. Of course there’s still boatloads of religious beliefs/trauma she had to let go of, but it was going well. She was sent on a final test mission against another sister in the order which had been told to clear out the tower just like she had, and after vanquishing her, pastry was finally let into the CoD officially.

Shortly after this, she changed her name to lavender cookie. Seeing as she no longer held any affiliation with the Saint Pastry Order, it was about time.

She became one of the people that gather intel from opposing forces(the others being crepe and Madeleine), using a forged shadow sister garb(courtesy of licorice) to grant her passage into various establishments and meetings. She primarily lives in the CoD castle, however she does own a house in Gingerbrave’s kingdom, and makes sure to stay there at least thrice a month, as to not be too suspicious.

Relationships with the CoD vary. Her and pomegranate are on coworker terms at best, however licorice and her have become rather good friends. Poison mushroom likes her stories, and often talks when the others are out of the castle. He has the most interesting conversations, and she always seems to keep up when he talks a mile a minute. Her and dark choco have a mutual respect, however catching them speaking outside of meetings or work related issues is near impossible. Red velvet and Lavender have a surprisingly good relationship, and are now best friends. Despite almost killing him previously, Lavender has come to see eye to eye with him on a great deal of things, and has even taken to overseeing the newest cakepups on occasion. RV and Lavender can even be caught sparring(and yelling good natured insults) at each other at the training grounds when she has a hard time getting to sleep or otherwise focusing.

[pokophobia]

hey!!! would you look at that!!! it's been already two years since the precious strawberry crepe cookie came into our lives to make it brighter, better, cuter ...... bless their little heart

i hope to make this a tradition, even after i move on from crk because i just find crepe so mesmerizing ... ah.

[missacensnakelover]

Ace and Ivy here enjoying milkshakes from Chick-Fil-A together here!

Made by me! (x)

[nonranghaes]

it's while you're putting away groceries that you notice a small box of cookies that you hadn't put on the list. you'd meant to, but your memory isn't the best, so by the time minho was making a trip to the grocery store alone, you had already resigned yourself to getting them next time you were there.

"honey?" you hold the box up as minho looks up from where he's sitting in front of the open fridge, putting away the cold stuff. "what's this?"

he blinks at you, brows rising just a little. "you wanted those?" he turns back to the fridge, carefully moving a carton of eggs so he can slide in a tub of yogurt so it sits with the other near-empty container. "did i get the wrong kind? i thought those were the right ones--"

"they are." you shift your weight uncomfortably. "i just... i didn't put them on the list."

"so?" minho doesn't look up again, carefully putting away strawberries. "you said you wanted them. i just assumed you forgot."

when you don't respond, minho slowly looks up, watching the quiet way your shoulders are shaking now. oh. oh. he's already rising to his feet, rushing over to you, asking if he did something wrong. you always feel silly when such obvious kindness gets met with you getting overwhelmed, but minho knows enough about the way you grew up. he wraps his arms around you, pulling you in. this is far from the first time that this has happened since the two of you started living together, but it still hits hard every time something like this happens.

"stop that," he says with this playful lilt to his voice, the way he always sounds when he's trying to cheer you up in moments like these. "if you're crying, then i'm a bad boyfriend."

but you just wrap your arms around him, shutting your eyes. he listened. he remembered what you said. "it's dumb--"

"it's not dumb." he rubs circles into your back. "you'll get used to it. i promise."

you think you wouldn't mind that. "minho?" you mumble as you turn your face, just so that he can hear you clearer. "thank you for listening."

and he chuckles, curling around you once more. there's things to be done, but he'll always savor holding you like this when he can. "that's what i'm here for."

[cloudwisp]

𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 · 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

contents: fluff. established relationship. found family. megumi takes up baking and it takes you back to your teenage years when a certain white-haired someone pined for you. 1.4k wc.

Nine year old Megumi has a crush on someone. You were pleasantly surprised when he asked you to take him to the grocery store to pick up some ingredients, and you inquired if there was a special occasion or a school cooking project as you both walked along the aisle and collected the items on his list that he prepared beforehand.

Your heart melts when you learn that he was planning to gift the pretty girl in his class something homemade, and he decided on butter cookies because she mentioned in passing that it was one of her favorite snacks. You think it’s incredibly sweet that Megumi came up with the idea himself, and even more so that he wanted to set aside a weekend to create something completely from scratch with his own two hands when purchasing a square tin would’ve been much easier.

It certainly reminds you of an insufferable yet equally lovable sorcerer that’s way too tall for his own good with too bright blue eyes that make you forget everything around you if you stare into them a little too long. When you both were just two young teenagers pining after each other and he showed up with a white pastry box hidden behind his back on a summer day, with the strawberries in season and nurtured and harvested to perfection. You smile at the pleasant memory before forcing yourself back to reality.

When you are getting ready to pay for the things you and Megumi placed on the conveyor belt, he stops you and pulls out his Digimon wallet (courtesy of Gojo’s taste in presents) and explains he wants to purchase it with his own savings and be able to say that this gift is entirely by him without receiving any help from others.

You almost had to hold back a tear because when did this boy become so sweet? You suppose he always was this sweet and thoughtful, it just took a bit of time and some trust for him to fully warm up to you and Gojo despite the circumstances with his family and almost being sold off like a pawn to the Zenin clan. And now he has a home where him and his sister could feel like they belong and be surrounded with people that he could depend on because at the end of the day Megumi is just a boy much too young to be growing up too fast.

You announce your return home to Gojo and Tsumiki with the soft thud of the grocery bags being placed on the kitchen counter, and Megumi scurries into his bedroom to fetch the printed recipe he tucked away in a drawer. You carefully take out each item from the bags to place on the surface for him to get started, and white tufts of hair come into your peripherals and Gojo greets you with a cheeky grin.

“Angel, you’re back.” His hand falls on your hip and he softly pecks your lips when you turn your head toward him. He does a quick scan of the contents in front of you, and he decides you must be some kind of mind reader or his telepathic messages have finally reached you after several days now. “Aw baby~ Don’t tell me you’re baking something for me? How did you know I was craving—”

“Not me.” You shake your head and cut him off promptly. “Megumi.” And at the mention of his name, the young raven-haired boy enters the kitchen with a loose paper in his grip. You offer him a polite smile before addressing that everything he needs is on the counter and point to where the baking equipment are, and if he has any questions or concerns then you’ll be in the next room with Gojo as you drag your boyfriend by the arm to give Megumi his privacy.

“You see, Satoru, our Megumi here has a crush on someone. And he’s taken it upon himself to bake her cookies!” You say just above a whisper, a proud smile lining your lips and Gojo arches a curious brow. You catch a peek between the threshold that separates the kitchen and sitting area with Gojo looming behind you and find Megumi checking off the ingredients and looking over the instructions. He’s being thorough, that’s a good start.

“Megumi, eh? You know, I’m a little surprised he’s crushing at all. He’s quite the serious kid.”

You huff at him softly. “Well, serious or not, I think everyone is allowed to have crushes. Besides, doesn’t this remind you of something? Like that time you baked me a strawberry shortcake because strawberries were my favorite?” You look back up at him, and in your gaze there was always a sort of sweet and dreamy expression that never fails to make his heart swell three times too big.

“Ah.” Gojo chuckles, and his mind drifts back to the fond memories of his own youth, when he too used to try his hand at baking sweets in the hopes of impressing you. He remembered how long it took and how many attempts he made since he had no prior experience. There was a lot of flour and eggshells, and maybe he did set the oven on fire… but the moment he saw your face light up with your beautiful smile it was worth all the trouble and the mess. “That was the cake that changed it all for us, huh?” His arms move to your waist and he presses a kiss to your forehead.

You nod and hum affectionately, your hands reaching up to wrap around his neck though with his height he had to bend down slightly. “That’s one way to put it. But as much as I appreciate the sweet gesture, I am so glad you left the baking to me since then.”

“You’re still teasing me about that to this day?” He playfully nips the sensitive spot on your neck causing you to giggle and lightly shove him away. “But hey, I never claimed to be a master chef. A little bird told me that maybe a homemade cake from me would be the thing to win your heart.”

“Well, I hope you know it was more than the cake that won my heart.”

“Yeah, I know it was my good looks and charm, you can’t get enough of me.” Gojo teases, peppering kisses over your shoulders and neck before pulling back just enough so his smirk comes into your view. “Enlighten me then. Since I still don’t have a clue why an Angel like you fell for a great catch such like myself.”

You playfully roll your eyes at his jokes, and you mull it over for a long moment to purposely keep him in anticipation. There are so many reasons that made you love Satoru Gojo back then, and every day you find new things to love about him. But for now the two qualities that come to mind should suffice for an answer. “Maybe it’s because I found you funny. And cute sometimes.”

“Sometimes? Cute most times, I think.” Gojo quips, and he gently pinches your cheeks. “And of course, my sense of humor is legendary. Who else can make you laugh like I do, hmm?”

“Alright, I think that’s enough flattery for you in one day. Any more and I’m afraid your enormous ego might burst.” There’s a teasing lilt in your voice, and suddenly the air around you feels sweeter as Gojo brings you closer to him and kisses your cheeks before resting his forehead against yours.

“But you know I love you, right?” He says in a much softer tone. “I might tease you a lot and act like an idiot sometimes, but I do appreciate you still being here with me through it all. Without you, I don’t want to imagine what my life would be like without you. You make me a better person, you know that?” He tenderly cradles the side of your face and gazes lovingly into your eyes before there’s a flash of his dimples and a boyish giggle. “And the fact you think I’m cute is icing on the cake. Pun intended.”

You groan softly but the laughter that came shortly after is one of genuine affection. “I'm gonna go check on Megumi.” Before you turn on your heel, you plant a big smooch on his cheek then you’re gone the next second. He stands there, grinning from ear to ear as he rubs the spot you kissed like he still was (and he still is) the lovesick boy just a few years back.

꒰ note ᰔ the idea where megumi takes after gojo in some ways really squeezes my heart and that’s what inspired this little piece. ꒱

[bi-writes]

okay so i was rereading in the MOB tag (as one does) and i saw a tag you wrote of not making MOB a ghoap series but i’m going feral at the thought so please please please just a small glimpse as to what that may look like okay smooches

this is not canon mail-order bride, i'm looking at you 🫵 horny people

"'ow is she?"

he peeks around the corner, eyeing the kitchen. you're standing there at the counter, apron fastened around your waist as you melt chocolate over a double boiler at the stove.

"makin' fuckin' brownies again, sir," johnny mutters. "always makin' tha' fuckin' chocolate when yer not around."

"wot's tha' supposed ta mean?"

"means i'm getting fuckin' fat, ye knob," johnny scoffs, smoothing a hand down his full stomach. you keep him fed. you're used to it, making enough food to feed a six-person family, and johnny is insatiable. the full english breakfasts, the meat pies and steaks and the variety of ways you can prepare potatoes, it's making it hard to do anything but sleep and wear nothing but loose clothing. and dessert--you make them everyday, trying new recipes, going through his entire cupboard of baking supplies, and for two weeks now, it's been nothing but chocolate.

brownies. cookies. fudge. cupcakes. truffles. you've made it your mission to douse everything in chocolate (dark, simon's favorite), and it's driving johnny mad. not even his mother feeds him this way.

"just misses me, johnny," simon murmurs. the connection crackles, and johnny shakes his head as he watches you spoon the melted chocolate into a bowl. chocolate mousse tonight, is what you said. "she knows tha's my favorite."

"chocolate, sir? tha' simple?"

"tastes better with her cunt, but it holds on its own, i suppose."

"bleedin' christ," johnny hisses, looking away from you, pressing his back to the wall. "dinnae say that."

"why?" simon asks. "'aven't had it yet, tha' it?"

johnny pauses. he swallows, blinking, moving into the other room so he can clear his throat.

"the fuck are ye on about?" he murmurs. "tha's yer--"

"ohhhhhh..." simon grunts. "i see. ya lied ta me, johnny."

"what?!"

"did i fuckin' stutter?" simon snaps. "ya lied. i ask ya ta take care of my wife, and ya disobey me. direct fuckin' order, and ya can't even be bothered."

"yer crazy," johnny murmurs. "fuckin' crazy."

"if she's makin' chocolate still, means she's sad," simon bites back. "fix it."

does pussy really pair well with chocolate?

when simon calls the following night, johnny anticipates the question.

"'n wot's on the menu tonight, aye?"

johnny swipes his thumb over his bottom lip, watching you in the kitchen again. you're staring right at him as a dollop of jam falls on the curve of your tits, and he locks eyes with you as you pick it up with your finger and lick over it.

"strawberry...think 's strawberry shortcake, sir."

"mmm." simon sounds pleased. "you'll save me a bite then, won't ya, johnny?"

"a-aye."

"good boy, johnny."

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗤𝗨𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘

　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Matt skips Tara Yummy's 1M party to have quality time with his girlfriend.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Matt's car glided through the moonlit streets of Los Angeles as he headed toward Y/N's apartment after dropping off his brothers at Tara Yummy's 1 million celebration party. The radio played the playlist created by him and Y/N, which they constantly fed with new songs that reminded themselves of each other.

Matt smiled as he looked to the little surprise he had prepared for his girlfriend. He made a brief stop at a flower shop on the way, where he bought a simple bouquet of pink tulips - Y/N's favorite. His eyes momentarily found the bouquet carefully wrapped and placed on the passenger seat before returning his gaze to the road.

Upon arriving at the building where Y/N lived, his access to the parking lot was quickly granted, the doorman already knowing him very well. The boy didn't take long to take the bouquet in hand, locking the doors and taking the elevator to the corresponding floor.

The sound of the keys against the front door lock sounded faintly through the living room, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing seconds later, Matt quickly taking off his shoes and resting them against the wall.

"Baby?" His voice echoed through the walls, expanding to the nearest rooms, while his eyes quickly surrounded the space, searching for the girl.

"Kitchen!" Y/N shouted back, an involuntary smile growing on her face almost automatically, her body reacting to Matt's presence.

Matt made his way to the kitchen and found Y/N with her back to him, focused on the counter as she moved her arms over the ceramics. With a smile on his face, he approached her silently and hugged her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his hands on her stomach covered by her hoodie and little green apron.

"Hi, pretty boy." Y/N murmured softly, rubbing her hands together to shake off the flour before wrapping her arms around his, caressing the hoodie-covered skin. "I thought you were going to Tara's party."

"Without my girl? Never." He responded in a low tone against her neck, laying his head on her right shoulder so that his face was facing her neck and sealing her jaw gently. "I brought you something." Matt pulled away slightly and retrieved the bouquet he had rested on the table.

Y/N turned to him with eyes full of curiosity and confusion, which soon turned into pure ecstasy, her heart overflowing with love.

"Oh my... Matt, they're beautiful!" The girl beamed, accepting the bouquet and cradling it in her arms as if it was a newborn.

"I always bring you flowers, I don't know how you still react so surprised." Matt murmured jokingly, smiling as he watched her enjoy the little gift.

As Y/N carefully arranged the tulips in a new ceramic vase, Matt approached the oven to peek at what she was preparing. The delicious aroma of freshly baked cookies filled the air, making his stomach growl with anticipation.

"Did you make cookies?" The boy asked excitedly.

"Yes! I was baking it to take it to you tomorrow." Y/N nodded quickly, returning to her starting position. "Do you want some, hon?"

"Yes, please."

Matt watched in awe as Y/N bent slightly, opening the stove door and carefully taking out the baking tray with her hand covered in the soft yellow fabric glove, resting it on the counter.

He knew he was lucky to have someone so incredible in his life, someone who cared about making every moment special.

The girl rose to her tiptoes after closing the oven, opening the cabinet above the stove and retrieving two dessert plates designed with little strawberries. She placed them side by side next to the tray before taking a small spatula and moving two cookies to each plate carefully, afraid of breaking or dropping them.

Matt walked over, taking one of the cookies from the tray with the tip of his fingertips, ignoring the slight burn from the high temperature. He lifted his own hand, blowing on the sweet before biting off a piece, closing his eyes automatically and letting out a sigh of pleasure through his nose. The way the cookie was still warm made it melt in his mouth, the chocolate exploding against his tongue, multiplying the variety of flavors.

"Is it good?" Y/N giggled, watching him with a smile gracing her face, receiving a quick nod with wide blue eyes. "Come on, baby."

She took the plates in her hands delicately, leaving her kitchen and walking to the balcony with Matt following close behind as he licked his fingers, removing all the chocolate residue.

The night was cool and clear, with the sky dotted with twinkling stars. The couple snuggled into the cushioned chairs that decorated the small space, Matt quickly reaching for the pink blanket that was folded on the small table on the right corner, opening it and throwing it over his and his girlfriend's legs, protecting them against the light breeze.

"Oh! Matt, remember the dog constellation I was telling you about the other day?" Y/N's excited voice cut through the comfortable silence, her eyes lighting up just like the stars above them.

"Sirios? No, wait, Sirius... Right?" Matt frowned, a cute look of confusion spreading across his face as his eyes darted from Y/N to the sky and back again.

"Exactly! Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky. Right there." The girl raised her arm that wasn't holding her plate, pointing her index finger upwards.

Matt looked in the indicated direction, navigating through the stars for a few seconds until he found it.

"Wait, it's actually beautiful. What else do you know about it?"

Y/N smiled truthful, her heart warming at being able to talk more about something she loved so much, without having restrictions or feeling ashamed for her excitement.

"Well, Sirius is a binary star, which means it is actually two stars orbiting around each other. It is part of the constellation Canis Major, the Greater Dog, and is known as 'The Dog Stars'. Oh, oh! Do you remember Sirius Black? My favorite Harry Potter character? So, this star..."

Matt listened intently, slowly chewing the small cookie pieces while keeping his eyes fixed on Y/N. Her passion for astronomy and the universe always fascinated him, and there wasn't a time when she brought up the subject that he wasn't willing to give her his full attention.

As the night progressed, Matt and Y/N continued to stargaze, lost in conversations about the cosmos and its mysteries.

As the last cookie crumbs disappeared from the plates and the sky began to brighten with the sun that appeared over the horizon, Y/N felt a wave of comfort and contentment envelop her body, resting the ceramics on the corner table and moving gently towards Matt, settling on his lap.

The boy opened a big, involuntary smile, automatically wrapping her with his arms and the pink blanket, protecting them from the slight cold of dawn, while she laid her head on his chest, feeling the peaceful rhythm of his heartbeat and serene breathing.

Together, they kept their eyes fixed on the sky that was beginning to take on color, the sound of the first cars on the street, and the laughter of children going to school filling their ears.

Little by little, Y/N began to feel the effects of exhaustion after staying up all night, her body relaxing against Matt's comforting warmth. Sleep came like a gentle wave, enveloping her senses in an embrace.

Her breathing became slow and regular, while her body became limp and light. Her brain shutting down and giving in to deep sleep, to the point where she didn't hear the little whisper of "good night, petal" from her boyfriend, let alone his arms carrying her to her bed, where they finally slept in each other's arms.

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(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[qierxing]

Head empty just yandere Heartslabyul as your imperial harem members

yan!poly!Heartslabyul x Reader

tw/cw: dub//con, gender-neutral reader but referred with masculine terms, drugging, manipulation, implied somnophilia, political machinations

—

you were raised with the expectation that you would shoulder the crown and rule over your people, justly and fairly. because of that, by the time you were crowned, your mindset compared to others your age was mature beyond what was considered normal.

you would be lying if you weren't bitter. Although you've long accepted that no one else could be trusted to rule this land and its people, you often wondered what your life would be like if there were no etiquette lessons and sword practices consuming your childhood.

In the end, it's all foolish dreams. You sit on your glittering golden throne and watch apathetically as the imperial court cheers and raises a toast to the new royal blood.

You were prepared for the responsibilities of a monarch, but what you weren't prepared for was your vassals' obnoxious nagging.

Your kingdom's tradition and laws have long allowed for polygamy, and your previous ancestors were known for their large harems. That day, you finally learned why: to ensure that royal blood would still be carried on, no matter what.

it's distasteful to you. you try to ignore your vassals all talking your ears off about potential consorts and lovers. but it's only so long before you crack.

Riddle Rosehearts was the first one to be by your side.

Not by choice. Duchess Rosehearts was the one who brought up her darling son to your vassals first, who then presented him to you. You would've turned them away, if not for the boy's eyes. Something in those stormy gray eyes makes your heart ache. His mother clutches her son's shoulder in a vice like grip that goes far beyond parental worry. Perhaps he too knows what it feels like to have no control over his life. 

And so reluctantly, you let him join you as a consort. 

It's not bad. Rather, he's so intelligent and diligent that you often ask him for help and advice on the kingdom's affairs, knowing that his strictness with himself and others provides a valuable impartial view that you can hardly find anywhere else. Besides, even if he is too stiff and formal at times, you appreciate his aid in paperwork that threatens to drown you.

in fact, he's so dedicated to carrying out his duty, that you find him nearly unrobed on your bed. Seven above, that nearly gave you heart palpitations. As attractive as he is, you have no intention of forcing the boy to give up his virginity against his will, even if he is married to you. 

you explain this to him as patiently as you can, even when his face scrunches up in hurt and confusion, asking if he wasn't enough–but you shut that down immediately. He is more than enough, and he isn't obligated to do anything he doesn't want to, even if his mother taught him otherwise. the revelation shakes his mind, causing his walls and views to crumble before him in the following days. you would like to think he became less stiff as he realized his true worth.

That is when an unexpected addition to your harem happened.

Actually, it was completely by accident. Your servants had often brought you various snacks and sweets during your work, as you were infamous for being extremely cranky without the motivation of good food. When Riddle, of all people, brings you a strawberry tart while you’re in the middle of some particularly grueling financial budget papers, it gives you pause.

It's not that you didn't trust him. It’s just…this is the boy who refused to eat more than the healthy amount of sugar. Even if you offered him various pastries and cookies, he always shunned them, saying it wouldn’t be right for him to consume them. 

So you spear a fork into the tart and bring it up to your mouth. When the bite meets your tongue, you swear your soul ascends to heaven. The taste is absolutely indescribable: the crust was flaky and light and the filling was sweet and creamy. This has got to be the best dessert you’ve ever tasted in your short life.

When you inquire Riddle about where he had gotten his hands on the tart, he shyly looks away from you and mumbles something under his breath. Not wanting to pressure him, you decide to let it go with a request to send your highest compliments to the patisserie. 

Since then, he is the one bringing you various treats, all unbelievably delicious tasting, each time you’re stuck among paperwork and meetings. You’re grateful, even if it does make you wonder who this mysterious patisserie is. You’re not particularly familiar with every kitchen staff member, but you would think that you would be aware of such talent residing in your walls. 

The truth finally comes to light when Riddle bursts into your office one day, in tears and hyperventilating, as he collapses in your arms. Alarmed, you quickly try to make sense of his babbling words. 

It turns out that the very patisserie wasn’t in your kitchens, as you thought. No, they were humble commoner folk who ran a modest bakery in the shopping district. Riddle had been secretly visiting the bakery whenever he had the time to buy their desserts and to visit his friend, the owner’s son. Problem is, his mother had found out and was furious that her son would debase himself and his reputation like that.

Trey Clover stands behind his parents with wide, frightened eyes as Duchess Rosehearts shrieks on about how she’ll shut down the establishment herself for daring to corrupt her son and so forth. It’s rather annoying that she would go this far in the name of parental love–thankfully she stops screaming once she catches sight of you. 

For once, you’re thankful for the absolute authority of imperial power. Duchess Rosehearts begrudgingly draws back when you block her attempt to defame the bakery. With a disappointed glare searing over the rest of you, she storms out of the bakery, door slamming shut behind her with a deafening crack.

You watch with mild interest as Riddle rushes forward and envelopes Trey in a tight hug that nearly knocks the tall man over. Despite the fact that Trey should be the one more distraught, he comforts Riddle with an ease that is almost suspiciously, dare you say, reminiscent of fondness. You look away before your thoughts dwell on it for too long.

Of course, it’s not all over. Trey’s parents kowtow at your feet with desperate gratitude, even if you beg them to stand up and raise their heads. As you glance over at Riddle in Trey’s arms, thoughts begin to arrange themselves into a proposal.

You and Riddle both know that Duchess Rosehearts would not stop here. Your presence was only a mere temporary hurdle in her plans to bring down Clover Patisserie, and there was no telling what she would do next. So, you propose something nearly unheard of to them.

Your vassals will throw an absolute fit if you openly sponsor their bakery and provide protection without something in exchange. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, but this is the only way that Trey and his family would be safe. 

Surprisingly, he accepts the proposal with grace, becoming the second consort of your harem that very day. 

He inquires if there’s anything he should be aware of for his duties, making you laugh raucously and Riddle blush to the roots of his strawberry hair. You wave him off, telling him he only needs to do the things he loves and to bring you more of those tarts that cured your stress during your work times. The smile he gives is radiant and you wonder how it is that Riddle managed to find someone who makes the sun pale in comparison.

The next day, Riddle tells you between paperwork that he gifted Trey his own kitchen to bake and cook, and you nod in approval. It’s too easy to tease him over his obvious favoritism toward the baker, and it only makes you want to bully him more when his face becomes tomato red.

The annual royal banquet comes up and it dawns on both you and Riddle that Trey will have to present himself to the feral noble masses who are itching to know who this new addition is. The three of you are thrown into a hurricane of preparations, not just for the banquet, but to prepare poor Trey, who has never attended such an elite event, for the troubles ahead.

It’s certainly not for naught, you think, as you rake your eyes over your consorts. Their beauty outshines everything, in your personal opinion. When you make the introductory speech, you’re well aware that the audience in front of you is not just dazzled by you, but rather the two handsome men dutifully hovering behind you.

You hope that Riddle is enough of a buffer when the nobles inevitably swarm them with excited and curious eyes. As much as you would like to help, you were stuck with your own battles of greeting various guests and entertaining those who were trying to butter you up.

The Diamond family catches your eye first. 

It wasn't something positive, per say. But it is quite hilarious as the Marquis introduces you to his family: his wife, his two elder daughters and his only heir and son–only to find the aforementioned son missing. He’s left stuttering in shame even if you don’t particularly mind. It would’ve just been another boring greeting, but at that moment, his eyes dilates in fear, and when you follow his gaze, you see why. 

Cater Diamond is currently flirting with Trey. And very openly, at that.

The sight should make you furious, and yet you nearly burst out laughing. How could there be anyone this daring? Surely the young man would know better than to try hitting on an imperial escort–if he was aware that is, of the man being one. 

You decide to be the merciful mediator, because Riddle is nearly about to blow a gasket by Trey’s side and Trey looks like he’s too flustered to appropriately reject the advances of the eldest Diamond son. 

“Lord Diamond, I do believe your father is looking for you.” His face is full of surprise at the image of you grinning at him in amusement when you gently break the awkward atmosphere. 

After he leaves in a hurry, your two consorts apologize profusely for letting the flirtations happen. You reassure them that it was fine, that whatever they liked to do was not meant to be dictated under your actions. However, their faces still remain guilty and dismayed, as though you had reprimanded them instead.

The encounter remains in your mind as an entertaining memory. So much so, that when your vassals pester you again on adding another member to your harem, your mind immediately goes to sparkling jade green eyes and vivid orange hair.

If anything it was on a whim. Of course, you consulted both Trey and Riddle before sending the invitation, and they both agreed, even if Riddle looked much grumpier than usual. You hardly believed that the proposal would be answered favorably; after all, you’ve learned from recent gossip that Cater Diamond was a rather well known playboy. You doubt that kind of man would enjoy being tied to an imperial harem, even if it was under your lax control.

Perhaps that is why it’s so surprising that when he finally is in front of you, he acquiesces to your proposal with no hesitation at all. You ask in disbelief if he was sure of his decision, and he affirms it with no distaste in his voice. He notes your incredulous face, giving a cheeky grin in response.

Apparently he's been wanting to separate himself from his family for a while. The reason for his scandalous affairs were only attempts at getting his family to send him away, but he never succeeded. He says that your proposition finally gave him the freedom to be away from his family. While you don't want to pry further, it confuses you on how the Diamond family managed to raise such an eccentric young man.

Regardless, he becomes the third member of your harem. There were some small tensions between him and Riddle, but thankfully they resolved rather quicker than you expected–it seems that although Cater acted rather laid back, he has skills in organization and networking that even Riddle had to begrudgingly acknowledge. Ask him on the most recent gossip on the nobles and he's sure to provide you a list alphabetized on the latest trends around the capitol. Besides, it seems him and Trey get along quite well—too well, in a way. You don’t think you’ve seen a pair more prone to exchanging sensual, fleeting touches. Well, that’s not your problem.

You pray that nothing more eventful comes up in the meantime. Trey could only supply you with so much cake and cookies before you simply keeled over from sugar intake.

It seems the Seven were not on your side.

The Knights' jousting tournament was something that slipped your mind. When it gets brought up on the agenda in a meeting you silently curse. In the racket of you ascending to the throne and tending to your harem, you had neglected a big aspect to your royal life.

Personal guards. Normally, you should've had personally assigned soldiers that would accompany you for protection, but you've kept putting it off since you were able to protect yourself just fine with your abilities. And hiring new people, for any reason, was always going to be a long chore of vetting, paperwork, and tests.

The worst part is that Riddle and Trey joined in on the nagging. Going on about how they worried for your safety as if you weren't already trained in self defense and swordplay since your childhood days. Cater just shrugs when you look at him desperately for help and winks while running off to who knows where. Traitor.

Whatever. The sooner you pick, the sooner they'll get off your back.

Somehow this year's tournament is rather disappointing. Your three consorts give commentary throughout the matches, but it cannot stop the boredom starting to overtake you. Trey discreetly offers you a cup of wine and you take it gratefully.

The announcer signals the start of a match, with Ace Trappola and Deuce Spade taking a stand against each other. You hear Riddle faintly murmuring to your side about how they look rather young to be in a tournament like this. But you're rather absorbed in their intense fight, to the point where Cater teases you, asking if your taste included younger men. you roll your eyes and tell him to be quiet.

The fight ends in a spine tingling draw. Both men have their swords knocked out of their hands, but they’re still glaring at each other with such raw passion, that it’s fascinating. You know you will hardly meet any others that could catch your attention.

The end of the tournament ends with the roar of the crowd shaking the colosseum and the boisterous victory announcement. The two of them weren’t finalists, but that matters little to you. The victor was impressive. But they weren’t what you wanted.

“Ace Trappola, at your service, your majesty.”

“Deuce Spade, at your command, your majesty!”

The two greet you with enthusiastic fervor that has you chuckling in amusement. They are just the breath of fresh air you need. 

“Starting from today, you two will be my personal guards.”

They’re left with gaping mouths at your bold statement. Your consorts, too, are sputtering at your side. Riddle is already trying to convince you to reconsider. Trey is gently trying to ask if you’re really sure about this. Even Cater, for all his light-hearted banter, chokes an incredulous scoff, covering his mouth with a fist.

Yes, there’s always the threat of treason, and they might be slackers, but if you were going to have to employ someone, you’d rather it be someone entertaining. 

Regardless, the two are knighted and become your guards in record time. 

For several days, a persistent headache haunts you with how much Ace loved riling up Riddle for no reason, or Deuce somehow managing to blunder his way into destroying several pieces of priceless antique furniture. It takes only two days for Riddle to kneel at your side, begging you to please just switch guards, these two were ridiculously incompetent and not worthy to serve under you, but you only pat his head and send him off back to his chambers to rest. 

Trey and Cater were arguably more agreeable, but you don’t miss their tired looks whenever they had to clean up after Ace pissing off a passing noble or Deuce somehow causing a fire when tripping over an iron poker. It makes you feel guilty, of course, but you still cling on. Call it stubbornness but you didn’t want to let go of the two. It was selfish, you know, and monarchs could never afford to be selfish, but was it so wrong for you to indulge in the only pair who seemed to disregard your status?

The answer came one hot summer evening, when you’re on your balcony trying to unwind. Tonight was the usual designated night to share a bed with your consorts, but you deigned to postpone it since you weren’t in the mood nor did you want to force the other three to deal with your sour attitude. It’s halfway through your third glass of wine that you were a rustle, then after starting your fourth, you hear footsteps, to which you turn and just narrowly miss a dagger aiming for your heart. The blade instead rips a gash through your left shoulder, causing you to grunt in pain, alcohol thankfully dulling most of the throbbing sensations. Unfortunately, your mind is hardly clear enough to have a steady stance to fight back properly, let alone see the assassin’s face. 

You can’t believe you were going to die pathetically like this. If this was going to happen anyway, you should’ve at least finished your glass of wine—

Shouts, then sounds of clanging steel, and a blur rushed into your sight, tackling the hooded assassin and knocking him down. Deuce’s familiar blue hair registers in your blurry vision, holding down the assassin, while Ace’s flaming hair and eyes come closer in view, shouting something that keeps fizzling out to nothing. Your world tilts to its side suddenly, a loud buzzing in your ears, and everything goes black.

When you come to, you find Riddle with swollen, tear-crusted eyes hugging your bedsheets, while Trey exhaustedly sits behind him next to a wash basin and several empty vials. Cater was out cold on the chaise beside him, several papers littering his body. It seems that the assassin was quite thorough, as they made sure that if their sharp blade didn’t manage to end your life, then the quick acting poison laced upon the steel would. Ironically, according to the herbalist and doctor, because you drank a whole wine bottle, the alcohol managed to slow it down somehow just long enough for you to get treatment. A miracle, indeed.

For once, the room is no longer filled with tension with all five of the men together, but a genuine sense of relief. You give the two of your knights soft smiles and a sincere thank you which makes their faces flush like a ripe strawberry. Your escorts don’t protest, mirroring the same gratefulness in their faces. 

Something changes after that night. 

Of course, you’re extremely glad that Riddle is no longer blowing his top off after Ace goads him about being a stick in the mud, but since when did Ace get into pet names with Riddle? Rosebud? The nickname makes you gag internally at how corny it is. Not to mention that Riddle…doesn’t mind being called that?! You watch in disbelief as he preens at the compliment from your knight, trying not to give away your incredulousness. 

Okay…whatever, at least they’re getting along? 

Deuce shows up with your slice of cake with a beaming glow that has you taken aback as you accept the offering. Ace mutters about how Trey must’ve spoiled him again behind you and it takes everything inside you to not spit out your cake mid-bite. Again? Trey was kind, you’ll give him that, and he did tend to baby Riddle and you but—

On second thought, perhaps this wasn’t out of left field.

Cater titters knowingly when you slump in bonelessly into the lounge next to him trying on new earrings and bangles. 

“And what ails my dearly beloved king?” You choke on your spit before glaring at him. He giggles, dangly silver drops chiming in tune with the laughter. 

“Not you too…” It felt like the whole day you felt like you were background to some of the most insufferable flirting, and with your escorts and knights, no less. You raise an eyebrow at the shiny, glittering jewelry scattered on the vanity in front of the man. All imperial escorts did have an allowance, but you don’t remember Cater buying anything like this nor gifting him such things. When you inquire about it, Cater gives you a smirk and a wink.

”Rido and the younger ones have been quite sweet lately.” The sentence makes you nearly fall off the lounge. He chortles and blows you a mock kiss with no shame as you sear him with another heated glare. 

The way they started interacting starts making you feel self-conscious and…embarrassingly enough, left out. Which is such a foolish thought. Of course, who would in their right mind love the person who tied their lives to them, romantically and sexually? And even though they were in such a situation, the fact they all loved each other was a blessing, wasn’t it? How many history lessons did you have where the monarch’s harem wasn’t full of in-fighting? That meant more prosperity and stability political wise, and there wouldn’t be any trouble between you…

Yet, your heart clenches at the thought of Trey’s smile directed at Cater, of Riddle gently caressing Deuce’s head, and Ace slinging an arm around Deuce…none of that affection could ever be for you. 

And it’s best that way. Your father’s voice echoes distantly in your mind. You watched him solemnly on his deathbed as he implored you to not make the same mistakes he did, before his breathing stilled, and his hand lay limp in yours.

Yes, perhaps it was better this way. 

Still, your thoughts are still wandering that you barely jolt back to present to a cabinet meeting looking expectantly at you. 

“Pardon, could you repeat that?”

Riddle watches in worry as a dark shadow crosses your face as the demand for your harem to grow is conveyed. He coughs, causing the members to turn to him instead.

”If that’s the case,” he states with no hesitation, “then I might have some candidates in mind.”

You turn to him with the same expression as the other cabinet members. It drops to shock at Riddle’s suggestion.

As much as you wanted to oppose it, there wasn’t really a good reason to. You sat with your arms crossed as Riddle explained the proposal to your very two personal knights. Ace and Deuce exchange looks, and something between them is communicated before they turn to you and accept, despite your hope they wouldn’t.

And so, your harem became five.

You put your foot down after that. It was already enough to have your heart cracked into pieces with the knowledge you could never have their love. You don’t think it could handle another.

So you tuck your heart away as you smile with them over dinner, bantering over whether flamingos can play croquet or dancing with them at various balls, heart racing as the chandelier lit their face with a warmth you’ve never seen before. If it means you won’t get hurt or distracted, then that’s all you could ask for.

One fateful day, a letter out of numerous piles is hand delivered by Cater and changes your entire world.

It’s sealed with the crest of the fairest queen in the seven realms, meaning only one person could have sent this—Vil Schoenheit. Inside the elegant letter details a marriage proposal that listed all the benefits of taking him as a spouse. With all the pros listed out so cleanly, it was clear that the queen already knew that you couldn’t reject it so quickly.

But you must dissolve your harem. I do not take kindly to those who are not loyal to me and me only.

Something in your heart cracks at reading the condition. You should feel elated, somewhat, that you no longer had to drag around escorts for formality. And for the others, it meant being freed from a duty they were all forced into. But tears threaten to bubble over your eyelashes, and when Riddle asks you if you’re alright, one manages to overflow and trail down your cheek like a traitorous banner. 

You don’t want to let them go.

Trey asks for the nth time if you’re sure you don’t want him to be with you or if you want some tea before you shoo him away. Ace and Deuce were meant to guard your chambers, but you wave them off too, saying you’ll find stand-ins for their places. Riddle and Cater were harder to shake off, but even they, too, were finally shut out when you closed your bedroom doors in their worried faces.

In the end, like a coward, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell them what that letter was, despite them asking nonstop about it. You’re not sure what to tell them either—that they were being discarded of their positions, no longer needed, but it wasn’t out of maliciousness—oh, who would even believe you?

When Vil graces your halls, the looks your escorts give you is enough to fill you with burning hot shame. 

Cater doesn’t have his usual mischievous smile when he greets the queen, his emerald eyes sharpening to pin pricks whenever Vil speaks. You should’ve scolded him, reigned him back, but the guilt eating away at you made you hesitate. It didn’t help that Riddle, for all his perfect etiquette, suddenly seemed to forget what formalities and niceties were around the queen. The regal queen gives you a strange look as Trey sets down a plate of pastries a little too hard in front of him. Your gaze darts away as you sip the tea in front of you nervously, flanked by Ace and Deuce, their scowling faces too apparent.

They’re not dumb. Royals don’t visit other realms willy-nilly often. And it’s clear what Vil is here for.

The next day leaves you lethargic and sluggish, but you try to pull through, if only for appearances. While you stroll through the gardens with Vil, you try to avoid the burning stares of your guards behind you, no doubt dissecting each and every bit of your conversation with the queen. They pull you away as soon as the clock hits the afternoon hour, stating you had duties to attend to and so on and so forth. You excuse yourself and hope you don’t look like a mess to Vil, whose appearance is still immaculate despite the heavy winds and hot sun.

You try to focus on the stack of papers in front of you, despite the edges of your vision blurring and your head spinning. Taking the last sip of what remained of your tea, you squint uselessly at the words as Riddle murmurs something to your right about dinner and farewell banquets. The last thing you remember is the smell of chamomile and poppy flowers and the last document regarding international treaties. 

By the time you wake up from your ill-timed nap, it was midnight and it had been decided that you were too unwell to properly receive the fairest queen, and thus Vil would be sent back, to come back another time. Cater explains with a tight smile while Riddle nods along. Behind them, Trey pours another cup of warm milk and offers it to you with a sympathetic smile. You take it, despite the guilt threatening to swallow you alive. 

The days following are a haze of routines that you thought you once knew but couldn’t process. Nothing had changed, right? It seemed like you couldn’t recall what Trey made for you for yesterday’s tea, nor whenever Cater asked you for an opinion on his outfit. Before, you remembered the guards’ shifts to the letter, and yet, you completely forgot when Ace took over to guard you. Riddle smiles at you like usual, helping you with paperwork as usual, and yet…why couldn’t you remember what you had signed yourself?

Some nights you wake up to Trey or Cater, running their hands over you, despite the fact that they weren’t there before when you went to bed. Sometimes, it would be Ace and Deuce, bickering in hushed whispers before they shut up seeing you awake. And every time morning came and soreness set in your body, Riddle would greet your groggy face warmly, wiping away sweat and a strange stickiness that clung to your skin. 

The thought of marriage is erased from your mind, and slowly, but surely, you can’t remember why you thought of breaking apart the men who treated you so fondly. 

Perhaps you should have heeded the tales of those who ended up being puppet kings.

[hyumjim]

Isn’t it funny how kpop artists are not allowed to say imma beat that pussy up but they are almost always peddling sex appeal in some way so we get one thousand metaphors instead and it’s like

girl group lyrics: look at my cookie my cake my strawberry cream sundae because it’s sweet and it’s pink and it’s fresh and it’s hot and if you want it you can taste it but not everyone can taste it but you can touch it and feel it and it feel so good. My sundae my sundae everybody now 1 2 3 shake it shake it

boy group lyrics: come ride on me and around me and on top of me and jump on top of me and we are jumping around and around and we are close to each other because we are driving in the car. And you can drive my car and we can drive the car together and we can drive so hard and so fast. Vroom vroom skrrt skrrt let’s ride let’s go let’s jump up and down I love my car it’s fun.

[icarusredwings]

What things smell like according to Logan Howlett/ The Wolverine. A series of smell based headcanons. Do with these whatever you want :)

People:

Ororo: burnt marshmellows, rain, chunky chocolate chip cookies, protien shakes, spansih rice, chillies, and cocoa butter. She always smells great.

Scott: cucumber shampoo, the remaints of a bonfire the next day, fresh dry cleaning, axe shower gel, lavender sheets

Jean: caramel latte, lavender sheets, vanilla spiced chai, books, mint ice cream, fruit smoothies, stinky hair product, lemon poppy seed muffins, sassafras

Hank: Books, sanatizer, various chemicals, a very specifc fur dander, kinda musky but in a 'im covered in fur and sweaty' kind of way.

Rouge: "Dolly Parton", brick and concrete dust, cherry blossoms body spray, freshly engraved wood, strawberries and milk conditioner, spicy gaucamole and freshly sizzled sausages.

Gambit: tv static, a fresh deck of cards at the casino, spicy jumbo, gin, lime jello, hair gel, "suprisingly good actually"

Kurt: brimstone, smoke from franckinsense, myrrh, a less smelling dander then hank, Holy chrism oil (olive oil and Balsam made by catholic priests), metal, and blue raspberry. Fur/ beard pomade sometimes for special ocassions.

Morph: even when changed he can smell is sandlewood shampoo, he smells like how "Jack Outta smell", latex, pine and cedar, clear nail polish, "that ugly quilt that your grandma kept on the back of her couch that was the warmest, softest thing you've ever slept with."

Charles: Old man fart, metal, chalk, shoe polish, nutmeg, wool, "a trusting hug", books, mahogany, expensive champagne.

Laura: "teen spirit", a shitty cheap "girl power" deodorant that doesn't do well hiding the sweat, apples and peaches, kinda woodsy.

Wade: Cancer, gun smoke, citrus dish soap, blood, oranges, taco sauce, infected skin once in awhile, red dye 40, slight over cooked and crispy apple pie, sugary cereal

Puppins: wet dog, dog dander, oatmeal senstive skin puppy shampoo, chicken, "the dirtest trash she can find to roll in on her walk"

Althea: Old lady, way too strong perfumes, butter biscuits, tea, peppermint candies, more cocaine, "baby powder", lanvender linens, cotton and daisy's Landry detergent.

Feelings/emotions:

Big/serious lies: smell like Gasoline and salty sand near the sea.

Small fibs/playful/ teasing lies: smell like Anise

Lies with decent intentions/are bent truths: smell like honey

Those two are easily mixed up.

Innocent (the person truly believes it. Ex. A child saying dinos are real) truth: smells like thick vanilla creamer.

Filling, whole truths (the person knows for a fact its a truth) smells: like fresh baked rolls/buns

Cancer smells vary like: urine, nail polish remover, some people have a pungent semi sweet smell like rotting fruit, and tar is another smell, depending on which part of the body. If already in late stages, one can smell like cadavers. Even spicy almost.

Pregnant people vary in scent but he can smell the rise of different hormones: Some hormones sweeter then other. If you asked him he would say cinnamon or dying roses. If you're later in your term the scents are more soft like lotion or custard. Lemon ussually.

Serotonin; cheese, lemon cakes, fruity, a bit light, and flakey like a pastry. Marshmellow fluff.

Dopamine; sweet fresh coffee, doritos(?), cocaine. Don't ask why he knows what cocaine smells like. He was alive during coke cocaine.

Endorphins; Sweaty Sex, mint, dark chocolate, violets, chemicals, varies by persons pheromones

Oxytocin; "playful cherries", freshly washed cotton pillows, the warmth of a bath, skin on skin hugs, strawberries

Joy/relaxation/relief: Jasmine, vanilla sugar cookies, fresh soup.

Anger/disapproval/hurt: smoke, the back end of a cigarette, spicy curry, iron, blood, "spoiled raw chicken left out too long"

Fear/excitment/anxiousness: Adrenaline smells like oil, paint, salty pretzels almost.

Tears: Oceans, lillies, fresh water lakes

[meazalykov]

the neighbor

kika nazareth x reader

summary: you wanted a new friend in a new city

your heart pounds a little as you balance the plate of banana loaf and protein cookies in one hand, pausing at your neighbor’s door. 

the idea of making a new friend in this massive city feels like exactly the kind of thing that could make it feel like home, but as soon as the door opens, you almost forget what you’re here for.  

standing in front of you is one of the most attractive women you’ve ever seen, her dark eyes curious, framed by waves of her dark hair. she’s dressed casually, but there’s something so effortlessly confident about her that it leaves you momentarily speechless. 

she blinks, looking from you to the plate in your hands.

“um, sorry– hi!” you finally manage, a little flustered but quickly recovering. 

“i just moved in next door, and i thought i’d bring over a little welcome gift.”

her face lights up with a genuine smile, and the warmth in her expression melts away any nerves you might have had. 

“oh my goodness, that’s so nice of you! please, come in.”

you step inside, glancing around. the space is cozy and bright, with a few unpacked boxes pushed to the side, indicating she’s just settling in too. 

there’s a faint, comforting scent of vanilla and lavender in the air, and the place already feels warm, even if she hasn’t completely unpacked yet. she sets the plate on the counter and gestures toward a stool at the kitchen island.

“have a seat! i’ll get us something to drink,” she says, moving toward the fridge with a natural ease.

you sit, watching as she pours a couple of glasses of what looks like strawberry lemonade. as she hands you a glass, you take it with a grateful smile. 

“thanks. i’m y/n, by the way.”

“kika,” she replies, her smile widening. 

“so, y/n, what brings you to barcelona?”

you’re about to take a sip but pause, trying to put it into words. 

“honestly? i’ve always had this– um– love? for the city. i visited a few years ago, and it just… clicked. i knew i wanted to live here someday. i finished university a year early, so i figured, why not now?”

she nods, looking impressed. 

“that’s brave. i think a lot of people have dreams about starting fresh somewhere, but actually making it happen? that’s a whole different level. what do you do?”

“i’m a nurse. i just got a position at a clinic nearby,” you explain, and kika’s eyes widen slightly.

“a nurse? that’s amazing!” she exclaims, and you feel your cheeks warm at her enthusiasm.

you laugh, shrugging modestly. 

“it’s rewarding but intense. i’ve seen it all, from broken bones to kids swallowing the craziest things like handfuls of sand or batteries.”

she grins, shaking her head. 

“that’s the coolest thing, though. not everyone can handle that kind of job.”

“thanks,” you say, surprised by how easily you can talk to her. 

“what about you? what do you do?”

there’s a little sparkle in her eyes as she shrugs, looking like she’s about to downplay it. 

“i play football.”

“seriously?” your eyes light up. 

“that’s amazing!”

kika chuckles, clearly not used to people reacting this way. 

“yep. i just joined the club here.”

“oh, so you’re with a local team?” you ask, not fully understanding.

she leans forward, her voice dropping slightly as she smiles. 

“barcelona. i play for fc barcelona.”

you blink, the words not quite sinking in right away. 

“wait. are you serious?”

“dead serious,” she replies, laughing softly at your reaction. she pulls out her phone and flips through some pictures before holding one up, showing herself in a barcelona training kit at what looks like her first training session.

“that’s… that’s incredible,” you say, genuinely in awe.

“i mean, i’m not the biggest soccer fan, but i know enough to understand how huge that is.”

she chuckles, looking almost shy. “not a big football fan? i need to take you to a game someday– but yeah it’s a big deal, i guess,” she shrugs. 

“i think being a nurse might actually be cooler.”

“absolutely not,” you say, laughing. 

“you’re living the dream for so many people. besides, i only moved here a week ago, and you already sound more established than i am.”

she shrugs, clearly a little bashful but appreciative of your compliments. 

“still, you’re doing something meaningful every day. you know, helping people.”

“i guess we both are, in a way,” you say, realizing you feel surprisingly comfortable around her. it’s only been a few minutes, yet you feel like you could stay here chatting with her all day.

you look around her apartment, noticing the soccer cleats on a shoe rack near the open closet door. they’re neatly placed next to a few pairs of sneakers, and you can’t help but think how fitting it is. 

almost every girl in europe played football if they weren’t buried in university work, you figured, so it hadn’t been a huge surprise to hear she played. still, learning she’s actually a professional? that’s something else.

“do you live alone here?” kika asks, breaking the silence.

you nod. 

“yeah, just me. it’s a bit quiet sometimes, but being in a big city… i don’t know. it just felt right.”

she leans forward, her eyes softening. 

“barcelona can be a little intimidating at first, but i think you’re going to love it here. especially if we can keep having hangouts like this.”

“same here,” you say, feeling a warm buzz of excitement. 

“i was kind of hoping i’d find someone cool in the building.”

she laughs, the sound filling the space with a kind of brightness. 

“well, looks like you got lucky then,” she teases, nudging your arm lightly.

before you know it, your phone buzzes with an alarm, snapping you out of the moment. it’s your reminder to start getting ready for the gym, and you glance down with a sigh, realizing you have to go.

“i’d better head out,” you say, standing up reluctantly.

kika follows you to the door, and just as you’re about to leave, she surprises you with a warm hug. it catches you off guard, but you hug her back, feeling a little spark in the embrace.

as you pull back, she looks at you with a hopeful smile. 

“hey, would you maybe want to grab lunch together? say, wednesday?”

“wednesday sounds perfect,” you say, feeling that warm buzz in your chest again. 

“and, you know, if you ever need anything, just knock on my door.”

“you got it,” she says, grinning. “see you wednesday.”

you give her arm a light squeeze, a soft “see you,” before stepping out into the hallway. 

masterlist

[adoreddestiny]

ೃ⁀➷ STRAWBERRY MACARONS — zayne x gn!reader

Zayne creased his eyebrows as he watched you out of the corner of his eye. Framed by the window of the cafe, you were busy snapping photos of the newest delicacies today had to offer. As you did so, he scanned over the desserts with a keen eye. 

An apple pie with rich french vanilla ice cream was plated beautifully besides a tiered tower overflowing with succulent berry macarons, chocolate glazed pastries oozing with bavarian cream, and snickerdoodle cookies coated in streaks of sandy cinnamon sugar. 

“I didn’t think there’d be so much,” you murmured, setting your phone down finally.

Zayne nodded towards the desserts. “You first.”

You flashed him a smile before reaching for the pastry closest to you. He watched you for a moment. A brief smile tugged at his lips as he watched the crumbs stick to the sides of your mouth. 

“Messy as always,” he said with a shake of his head. He was already reaching for a napkin and wiping off crumbs as you attempted to reply back to his comment. His eyes briefly locked with yours, but as quick as it happened, he was just as quick to look away. Your bottom lip jutted out as he finished cleaning you, which only deepened his affection. 

“Which one are you gonna try?” you said finally. You were already going back to your pastry and replacing the crumbs he had just wiped off with new ones. 

Zayne did another onceover of the tiers before selecting a strawberry macaron. “You know, strawberries can assist in guarding your body against high cholesterol, heart disease, and cancer.” 

A laugh escaped your lips and he took a bite of the overly sweet treat. He enjoyed the way your laughter spilled out over the table and into the peaceful atmosphere of the cafe. 

“I doubt a strawberry macaron can carry the same health benefits,” you said with a raised eyebrow. 

Zayne shrugged. “I suppose not. But it never hurts to try.” He pops the rest of the macaron into his mouth and lets the sugary taste coat his tongue. 

At the same time, you skimmed over the rest of the tier with narrowed eyes. “You took the last strawberry one,” you said. 

Alongside your observation, Zayne came to the same conclusion. “Hmm, why not try the blueberry one?” 

“Does it have the same health benefits as the strawberry one?” 

Zayne hesitated to answer, but within another moment his eyes soften as he gazed at you. He leaned a bit closer and pressed a kiss against your lips. It was short and succinct but sugary sweet. The taste of artificial strawberry spread across your tongue from the kiss. 

“Do you still want to try it? We can get another order,” Zayne offered. As usual, he returns to his usual demeanor without another suggestion to the affection he’s shown you. You shook your head and, in spite of your movements, Zayne smiled softly to himself.

[plastic-rainbows]

AgeRe/Agedre Food Ideas!

Main courses:

- Grilled cheese

- Wildberry muffins

- Chicken nuggets

- Toaster waffles

- Macaroni & cheese

- Breaded Tofu

- Flavored oatmeal

- Veggie burger

- Hot dogs

- Microwave pancakes

- Pizza bagels

- Fish sticks

- PB&J sandwich

- Noodle cup

- Mini tacos

Sides, snacks, and sweets:

- Apple slices

- Pretzel twists

- Cheddar crackers

- Yogurt cups

- Carrot sticks

- French fries

- Scrambled eggs

- Dry cereal

- Granola bars

- Baby corn

- Mashed potatoes

- Gummy bears

- Pudding cups

- Tater tots

- String cheese

- Green beans

- Frosted cookies

- Mixed berries

- Graham crackers

- Raw broccoli

- Cheese puffs

- Fruit pouches

Drinks:

- Chocolate milk

- Orange juice

- Flavored water

- Homemade lemonade

- Kool aid

- Veggie smoothie

- Apple juice

- Sports drink

- Fruit punch

- Strawberry milk

- Protein shake

- Grape juice

Feel free to customize anything due to allergies, dietary restrictions, or preference. Bonus points if you cut your food up into cute shapes and use little dish sets for toddlers/kids!