#an empty box of cocoa powder

[ar1mas]

i finally found out that tumblr does in fact have a tag limit. i wont be changing the tags i already got, so i will go on here, even if thats against the instructions

a screw

a pencil sharpener

nail clippers

scissors (the hair ones)

a weird bracelet that i think is not actually a bracelet but the thing they put on cables to hold them together

a savety pin

and a bunch of fucking dirt

i dont care much for cleaning. and i might have adhd.

reblog and put in the tags whats on your desk right now

[risuola]

MUG CAKE CRISIS — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

Every household has to face a crisis once in a while. Yours came at 2:48am and you had to sweeten your husband's way into peace again.

cw: good old fluff — 0,9k words

Every household has to face some kind of crisis once in a while. Some deal with children – the tantrums or cries that keep the parents awake and as they are forced out of their dreams and expected to face whatever it is that makes their little ones so sad, all of the monsters underneath the beds, the nightmares and fears, they simply take it head on. That’s what makes parents the heroes of their children life’s. Other people deal with partners or the opposite, the loneliness. Sometimes the walls hear things no one else shouldn’t. Arguments, screams and sounds of heated intimacy. There are different types of crises and your house is no foreign to that concept.

You woke up to the soft thuds coming from somewhere in the apartment. The whiney sounds following the, what you figured out to be, furniture noises gave you enough reason to get up from the bed. There was a crisis in your house happening right now, at 2:48am and you couldn’t just let it be, so you wrapped yourself in a blanket, too sleepy to put on clothes on your bare body, slipped into your slippers and padded to the kitchen.

The view that met your eyes was endearing in a way. Gojo Satoru, your husband and a man you love to the extent of infinity, was in the kitchen, wearing only boxers that he probably put on in a rush, because they were turned to the left side, with seams and tag on show. He was frantically ramming through every cabinet, every drawer, every little basket and bowl that could possibly hide something. There was a mess around him, boxes laying around gutted and empty, some doors half-open and most of the things on the countertop moved from their original place creating the overwhelming sense of disorder. But that was a problem for tomorrow, now you had to take care of the man-child strongest sorcerer.

“Satoru, baby,” you called him, but he was too focused on his hunt to even look at you.

“Go back to sleep, love,” he mumbled and you yawned onto the plushy fabric of your blanket. You approached him, wrapping your arms around his middle and nuzzling your face to his bare back.

“No sweets?”, you cooed, knowing perfectly how the one and only addiction of your husband can wake him at night. Satoru doesn’t drink, he doesn’t smoke and he only occasionally takes a sip from your coffee, but one thing he’s unable to give up, is sugar. He consumes so much of it, you’re in awe that he still has all of his teeth and in great health as well, and all of his blood tests normal, because you were sure that if you were the one who ate so much caramel, chocolate and whipped cream, you’d probably be dead before your teeth start to rot.

“Can you believe it?” he whined, audibly trying to force his voice to sound soft and calm, but you knew him better than that. He was tensed, soo annoyed, his heart was beating fast as if he was slowly falling into the state of panic, and you exhaled against his skin, hand smoothing over his stomach as you pressed your lips to his spine.

“Told you we need to go get groceries yesterday.”

“You’re not helping, y/n.”

“Oh, my poor husband. Sit down, I’ll make you something, how does it sound?”

He hummed in defeat, desperate to have anything sweet and so he sat down on the chair, as you quickly combined flour, cocoa, sugar and the one almost dying banana that had been laying there for a little too long. Some milk, vanilla extract and baking powder got mixed into the batter as well, and when the concoction was ready, you put it in the microwave.

Mug cakes became your saving grace for hard times like this one, when your husband would wake up in the middle of the night craving something sweet. Some might say, he’s a grown adult, he can manage without eating chocolate in the middle of the night. Well, no. Satoru is a baby trapped inside the 6’3 tall, muscular body, and he’d definitely throw a tantrum if his needs won’t be fulfilled. There was a time he almost teared up when the realization of his stashes being empty hit him.

Over the hot, steaming cake you scooped the last bits of vanilla ice cream that hid in the back of the freezer, away from his sweet tooth because you kept it for the time your period comes and you even managed to squeeze out a little bit of toffee sauce from the lonely bottle in the fridge. Yawning once again, you presented the masterpiece to your beloved man-child, with a spoon and he gathered you to sit on his lap, making sure you are tucked tightly into the blanket.

“I love you, you know that,” he mumbled against your forehead, before pressing his lips there.

“Love you too,” you smiled and lowered your head to rest it on his shoulder, while he began devouring the dessert you made him. You felt his body relaxing as the sugar saturated his bloodstream and you relaxed too, melting against his warm form and knowing that he’s once again happy.

“’m sorry I woke you up at that hour,” he whispered, when after catering his cravings, he carried you back to the bed.

You smiled, cuddling to his chest just few moments later. Oh, how much you love that man. So much, you were okay with getting up at nearly 3 am only to make him a mug cake.

[allywthsr]

CHRISTMAS MOVIES | (l.norris)

summary: you and Lando watch Christmas movies

wordcount: 1k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: none!

notes: what are we thinking?

advent calendar

”Lando, come on!“

You were sitting on the couch, waiting for Lando to come and join you. You planned a Christmas movie marathon for tonight, Lando finally had less stuff to do for McLaren and could relax from the stress he had over the year.

The day had been eventful with buying presents and getting ready for Christmas, you counted down the minutes until the evening would start and Lando and you would sit on the couch.

”I‘m coming babe, you can start Netflix already.“

So you did just that, grabbing the remote control and starting the TV, opening Netflix. Clicking through the different movies that Netflix had to offer, you wanted something romantic but funny and knew you had to make it sound cool or Lando wouldn’t watch it.

He came into the room with two mugs in his hands, he made cacao for the both of you, and he even added little marshmallows. You took the mug from his hand and took a small sip after blowing on it, so it would cool down a little.

”The aftertaste is different, it’s fucking good, what did you do with it?“

Now he sat down next to you and clinked your mugs together, putting his hand on your thigh and stroking it softly.

”I added some of your candy canes, I hope that’s okay I stole some.“

”Of course! It tastes tucking delicious.“

”Have you found something to watch yet?“

”No, I’m torn between this film and that one. What do you think?“

”I like the first one better, I know you love that film.“

You looked at him and pouted.

”Why, what’s wrong?“

”You’re so cute!“

You put your mug on the table and grabbed Lando’s mug from his hands to also set it on the table, now you threw yourself at him and hugged him tightly.

”You’re the best boyfriend ever.“

”Because I said we can watch a film that you love?“, his slight chuckle made you smile.

”No, you’re always the sweetest, and look at you, making me hot chocolate because I’m freezing.“

”You’re always freezing, so obviously I want you to be warm.“

”Whatever reason, I love you.“

”I love you too.“

Now you two lay on the couch and no one moved to press start on the movie.

”Y/N, will you get up and press play?“

”But I‘m so cozy right now.“

”Then we’re not going to watch the film.“

”Ugh, fine.“

You moved off of him and pressed play, drinking another sip of your drink, and laid back down on Lando. He put his hand on your back under your hoodie and started to slightly scratch the skin, while your hands found themselves in his hair to pull lightly on his strands. You both needed an evening with cuddles and movies, needing to be close to each other.

The wintery scene on the TV looked beautiful, you couldn’t wait for the weekend in the snow you had planned soon.

The hot chocolate on the table was now empty, and you were craving for more, you kindly asked Lando to make you a new one, because you could never make it as good as he could.

You paused the film and he got up to walk to the kitchen, while he was prepping another round of cocoa, you opened the metal box with the self-baked cookies and placed some cookies on a plate to take with you to the couch. If you placed the box on the the table, it would be empty before the movie was finished, and Lando and you would have stomach pain for the rest of the night.

While you two waited for the milk to warm up, you sat on the counter and he stood in between your legs, rubbing his hands over your thigh. You enjoyed the silence, and before you could say anything, the milk was ready and Lando was mixing cocoa powder and a half candy cane into the mugs, not forgetting little marshmallows.

Together you walked back to the couch where you resumed in your old position, on top of each other and with the hands somewhere on the body of the other. Your hands were on his neck now, you loved gripping and caressing it, the strong muscles moving underneath your grip.

The movie was playing, and you knew Lando wasn’t that into it, but he was content just holding you, he told you that multiple times when you caught him staring at your face. When the romantic kiss came, Lando pulled on your chin and pressed a kiss to your lips, starting to move them carefully against your lips. Quickly the kiss got more heated and Lando sat up, pulling you on his lap, you could feel him getting excited, he was squeezing your ass, grinding your lower half against his. You had to stop this.

”I‘m sorry baby, my period is due soon and I’m already leaking some weird liquid.“

”It’s extra lube.“

You slapped his chest playfully and kissed his cheek.

”I‘m not in the mood, I’m sorry.“

”That’s nothing you have to apologize for, my love. I was just joking.“

”Do you want me to help you?“

”I‘m good, it’ll go down in a second, you know how excited I get while kissing you.“

You smiled against his lips and pecked them quickly.

”You want to watch another movie? You can choose. Are you okay by the way? Do you need any pain meds or a hot water bottle?“

”I just need you to hold me, I can endure it for now.“

You pressed another kiss to his lips and he settled back on the couch, laying you next to him, so he could put a hand on your lower belly, caressing the skin slowly.

You took the remote control and chose the next film, another Christmas romance, but it was what you craved right now, and Lando would never deny your requests, as long as he got to spend time together.

[thezombieprostitute]

Hey! Merry Christmas (if you celebrate, if not, then an amazing day anyway.)

Would you be up to writing a cute little fluffy thing with Jake? Like really fluffy, supper, amazing, most fluffy? Maybe where you’re having a not perfect day but knowing that Jake is waiting with his homemade cookies or hot chocolate and the best hugs ever?🥺🥺

If not it’s fine too! Hope you have an amazing day!🥺❤️

Jake wakes up in the middle of the night and reaches over to where you should be. He frowns when he finds your side of the bed empty. Slowly, carefully, he gets out of bed to find you, making sure to put on his glasses so he doesn't trip.

He finds you in the living room, sitting on the couch, facing away from him. Your eyes are focused on the Christmas tree, all lit up. He thinks he sees your eyes glistening in the light and gently touches your shoulder, getting your attention.

"Oh, sorry babe," you tell him. "Just...just couldn't sleep."

He sits next to you and holds you tight in his arms. "Wanna talk about it?"

"I'm just...this holiday used to be so much fun and now it feels like it's all just stress, you know?" He nods as he gives you a gentle squeeze. "I'm too tired but also too awake and I'm feeling so...I don't even know."

Jake kisses the top of your head. "I have an idea, if you're up for it."

"Yeah?"

"Let's wait up for Santa!"

"What?"

"Like when you were a kid? We get ourselves all sugared up and declare we're finally gonna catch Santa in the act!"

You giggle at the idea. "Where are we gonna get enough sugar?"

"I was gonna save this for a surprise tomorrow," he says as he gets up from the couch. "But I think this warrants an early gifting."

He returns from the kitchen with a box of homemade sugar cookies, each with frosting!

"Jake! You made those?! They're my favorites!"

"Yup. It took me all day, but I knew it would be worth it."

You wrap your arms around him and give him several kisses of appreciation.

"And I've got the stuff make hot cocoa," he adds, when you finally let him breathe. "Real hot cocoa, not the powder stuff."

Your eyes soften with happy tears, "thank you!"

"So, you're up for joining me in waiting for Santa?"

"Hell yeah! We're gonna get on the naughty list, but it'll be worth it!"

Jake takes your hand in his. "Partners in crime!"

Just as you and Jake both knew, the two of you overdosed on sugar and ended up crashing on the couch soon after, smiles on both of your faces.

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[lee1504]

hii!! I found ur blog and i LOVE your writing and i saw one of Mike and Emma? So if its not too much could you write another of them because i absolutely loved them <3

I'M SO SORRY THIS IS LATE I'M TRYNA CATCH UP ON A LOT OF THINGS BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOYYY

(context: this was before the previous emmike fic; this is sort of set the summer after sophomore year, before mike's a junior and emma's a senior)

Mike's eyes were trained on the windows. The cafe was slightly busy today, since it was a Sunday. There was a long line behind the counter, where he was lining up pastries behind the glass display. The tables near the windows were all full, and chatter filled the small restaurant.

But the work wasn't why his mind was busy.

He quickly wiped his hands on his apron before turning back around into the kitchen. It was warm and smelled like fresh-baked bread, his favorite scent. He quickly took a tray from where the scones were, then headed back swiftly outside.

The bell above the door jingled.

He shouldn't get his hopes up. That girl--the one who always accompanied her father at 10:05 AM--should be here by now, but it was already 10:10. Maybe her plans changed.

Maybe he was a bit too excited to see someone who probably forgot who he was.

His eyes kept still on the pastry boxes and desserts as he handed out orders. Here are your eclairs; come again soon. Here are the choquettes that you ordered; please enjoy. His arms started to hurt from the many trays he held, and from packing more than what seemed to be a hundred boxes. Soon, the line was thinning, and the customers were leaving.

He glanced at the clock. 11:30. Maybe she wouldn't come today.

That's fine.

He was just packing up the last box when the bell jingled. Something made him look up. His lips parted slightly.

There she was, with her usual stern, cold-looking face, her eyes sweeping around the cafe. Behind her stood her father, a well-known and well-respected veteran. They shared the same rust-red hair and all-knowing eyes.

Mike's heart felt as if it skipped a beat.

"Sorry, are you on break? It's already 12, but we were wondering if you were still open..." Emma Anderson trailed off.

"Oh--uh..." Mike's boss was in the back, cleaning the kitchen. Some of the other staff were already at different shops, on their lunch break. other than him, the place was empty.

"Sorry--we can come later, if you want."

Major Anderson's eyes met Mike's. He felt nervous, but didn't look away.

"No, it's fine, you can stay."

+++++

Now it was just Mike, by himself, all alone. He stood at where the kitchen met the back counter, but was hidden behind the wall. He could hear them talking--about college, military topics, things he usually wouldn't care for. He heard the sound of chair legs scraping against the floor, and then it was quiet. He decided to go outside.

Major Anderson sat alone, sipping his coffee quietly. Black coffee, with a teaspoon of cocoa powder, just how he liked it. His stern gray eyes flitted to Mike's green ones.

"She's in the bathroom, if you're wondering." He set the cup down. Mike felt nervous. Was this the right move.

He decided to ask a normal question.

"Is there anything else you want? More coffee?" His hands fidgeted with the hem of the apron. He didn't know why he was so nervous. This was just Emma's father, someone who was a regular at the shop. Maybe it was the fact it was just the two of them, even if Emma was gone for a bit.

"No, thank you," the Major replied in his gruff voice. Mike stood awkwardly at the table, as if waiting. Then the Major said, "You're in love with my daughter, aren't you."

It wasn't a question.

"I'm sorry," Mike said quickly. "I--"

"It's not a bad thing, Mr Banner," Major Anderson interrupted. His eyes glinted, but he didn't smile. "She deserves a nice young man like you. You're a kind person."

Mike hesitated, waiting to see if he would say something else, before saying, "Thank you, sir."

The Major stared for a few more seconds before lifting the cup to his lips once more. "Just know that she doesn't give a second chance."

He didn't know if he was talking to him or himself.

+++++

Mike's eyes drifted to the Major, who stood underneath the awning outside, holding an unlit cigarette. Emma was back, and was counting the right amount of bills to give in her hands. She mumbled the numbers under her breath. Mike didn't know where to look.

"Here you go; twenty five dollars," Emma said. She handed him the money. Their fingers grazed, but the girl didn't notice.

"You can keep the change," she said, noticing that Mike had started taking coins from the cashier.

"Oh--thank you," he said. He handed her the box of goods the Andersons had ordered after their lunch. The cafe was still slightly empty, except there was only one other customer, an elderly woman near the back.

Emma's eyes followed Mike's. "I'm sure my dad said something about me, when I was gone," she said.

"Oh." Mike met her eyes, then handed the box to her. "Yeah, he did."

Emma paused for a moment. "He's scary, isn't he?" Her dark brown eyes bore into Mike's.

He cleared his throat. "Yeah. Kind of." He immediately closed his mouth, panicking. Was that the right thing to say? "I--"

Suddenly Emma laughed, a loud, booming laugh, something unexpected. Mike's eyebrows raised slightly.

"I know, right? Anyway, he's not as scary as you think. I know he'll warm up to you, maybe next time we visit." Mike noticed she was smiling one of the rare ones she did. His heart thumped.

"Oh--okay. Well, thank you for visiting. I'll see you next time?"

His heart continued beating quickly.

Emma's smile widened. "Yeah. See you." She took the box, saluting Mike, then headed out the door.

How much more could his heart take?

[rjalker]

This is not what I was expecting from a story called Peoole Soup but I am not disappointed.

Is this part of a series, or just spontaneous absurdity?

Those are definitely their daemons, lol.

People Soup By Alan Arkin (public domain)

Bonnie came home from school and found her brother in the kitchen, doing something important at the sink. She knew it was important because he was making a mess and talking to himself. The sink drain was loaded down with open soda bottles, a sack of flour, corn meal, dog biscuits, molasses, Bromo-Seltzer, a tin of sardines and a box of soap chips. The floor was covered with drippings and every cupboard in the kitchen was open. At the moment, Bonnie's brother was putting all his energy into shaking a plastic juicer that was half-filled with an ominous-looking, frothy mixture.

Bonnie waited for a moment, keeping well out of range, and then said, "Hi, Bob."

"Lo," he answered, without looking up.

"Where's Mom?"

"Shopping."

Bonnie inched a little closer. "What are you doing, Bob?" she asked.

"Nothing."

"Can I watch?"

"No."

Bonnie took this as a cue to advance two cautious steps. She knew from experience how close she could approach her brother when he was being creative and still maintain a peaceful neutrality. Bob slopped a cupful of ketchup into the juicer, added a can of powdered mustard, a drop of milk, six aspirin and a piece of chewing gum, being careful to spill a part of each package used.

Bonnie moved in a bit closer. "Are you making another experiment?" she asked.

"Who wants to know?" Bob answered, in his mad-scientist voice, as he swaggered over to the refrigerator and took out an egg, some old bacon fat, a capsuled vitamin pill, yesterday's Jello and a bottle of clam juice.

"Me wants to know," said Bonnie, picking up an apple that had rolled out of the refrigerator and fallen on the floor.

"Why should I tell you?"

"I have a quarter."

"Where'd you get it?"

"Mom gave it to me."

"If you give it to me, I'll tell you what I'm doing."

"It's not worth it."

"I'll let you be my assistant, too."

"Still not worth it."

"For ten cents?"

"Okay, ten cents."

She counted out the money to her brother and put on an apron. "What should I do now, Bob?"

"Get the salt," Bob instructed.

He poured sardine oil from the can into the juicer, being very careful not to let the sardines fall in. When he had squeezed the last drop of oil out of the can, he ate all the sardines and tossed the can into the sink.

Bonnie went after the salt and, when she lifted out the box, she found a package containing two chocolate graham crackers.

"Mom has a new hiding place, Bob," she announced.

Bob looked up. "Where is it?"

"Behind the salt."

"What did you find there?"

"Two chocolate grahams."

Bobby held out his hand, accepted one of the crackers without thanks and proceeded to crumble the whole thing into his concoction, not even stopping to lick the chocolate off his hands.

Bonnie frowned in disbelief. She had never seen such self-sacrifice. The act made her aware, for the first time, of the immense significance of the experiment.

She dropped her quarrel completely and walked over to the sink to get a good look at what was being done. All she saw in the sink was a wadded, wet Corn Flake box, the empty sardine tin and spillings from the juicer, which by this time was beginning to take on a distinctive and unpleasant odor. Bob gave Bonnie the job of adding seven pinches of salt and some cocoa to the concoction.

"What's it going to be, Bob?" she asked, blending the cocoa on her hands into her yellow corduroy skirt.

"Stuff," Bob answered, unbending a little.

"Government stuff?"

"Nope."

"Spaceship stuff?"

"Nope."

"Medicine?"

"Nope."

"I give up."

"It's animal serum," Bob said, sliced his thumb on the sardine can, glanced unemotionally at the cut, ignored it.

"What's animal serum, Bob?"

"It's certain properties without which the universe in eternity regards for human beings."

"Oh," Bonnie said. She took off her apron and sat down at the other end of the kitchen. The smell from the juicer was beginning to reach her stomach.

Bobby combed the kitchen for something else to throw into his concoction and came up with some oregano and liquid garlic.

"I guess this is about it," he said.

He poured the garlic and oregano into his juicer, put the lid on, shook it furiously for a minute and then emptied the contents into a deep pot.

"What are you doing now, Bob?" Bonnie asked.

"You have to cook it for seven minutes."

Bobby lit the stove, put a cover on the pot, set the timer for ten minutes and left the room. Bonnie tagged after him and the two of them got involved in a rough game of basketball in the living room.

"BING!" said the timer.

Bob dropped the basketball on Bonnie's head and ran back into the kitchen.

"It's all done," he said, and took the cover off the pot. Only his dedication to his work kept him from showing the discomfort he felt with the smell that the pot gave forth.

"Fyew!" said Bonnie. "What do we do with it now? Throw it out?"

"No, stupid. We have to stir it till it cools and then drink it."

"Drink it?" Bonnie wrinkled her nose. "How come we have to drink it?"

Bobby said, "Because that's what you do with experiments, stupid."

"But, Bob, it smells like garbage."

"Medicine smells worse and it makes you healthy," Bob said, while stirring the pot with an old wooden spoon.

Bonnie held her nose, stood on tiptoe and looked in at the cooking solution. "Will this make us healthy?"

"Maybe." Bob kept stirring.

"What will it do?"

"You'll see." Bob took two clean dish towels, draped them around the pot and carried it over to the formica kitchen table. In the process, he managed to dip both towels in the mixture and burn his already sliced thumb. One plastic handle of the pot was still smoldering, from being too near the fire, but none of these things seemed to have the slightest effect on him. He put the pot down in the middle of the table and stared at it, chin in hand.

Bonnie plopped down opposite him, put her chin in her hands and asked, "We have to drink that stuff?"

"Yup."

"Who has to drink it first?" Bob made no sign of having heard. "I thought so," said Bonnie. Still no comment. "What if it kills me?"

Bobby spoke by raising his whole head and keeping his jaw stationary in his hands. "How can it hurt you? There's nothing but pure food in there."

Bonnie also sat and stared. "How much of that stuff do I have to drink?"

"Just a little bit. Stick one finger in it and lick it off."

Bonnie pointed a cautious finger at the tarry-looking brew and slowly immersed it, until it barely covered the nail. "Is that enough?"

"Plenty," said Bob in a judicious tone.

Bonnie took her finger out of the pot and stared at it for a moment. "What if I get sick?"

"You can't get sick. There's aspirin and vitamins in it, too."

Bonnie sighed and wrinkled her nose. "Well, here goes," she said. She licked off a little bit.

Bob watched her with his television version of a scientific look. "How do you feel?" he inquired.

Bonnie answered, "It's not so bad, once it goes down. You can taste the chocolate graham cracker." Bonnie was really enjoying the attention. "Hey," she said, "I'm starting to get a funny feeling in my—" and, before she could finish the sentence, there was a loud pop.

Bob's face registered extreme disappointment.

She sat quite still for a moment and then said, "What happened?"

"You've turned into a chicken."

The little bird lifted its wings and looked down at itself. "How come I'm a chicken, Bob?" it said, cocking its head to one side and staring at him with its left eye.

"Ah, nuts," he explained. "I expected you to be more of a pigeon thing." Bob mulled over the ingredients of his stew to see what went wrong.

The chicken hopped around the chair on one leg, flapped its wings experimentally and found itself on the kitchen table. It walked to the far corner and peered into a small mirror that hung on the side of the sink cabinet.

"I'm a pretty ugly chicken, boy," it said.

It inspected itself with its other eye and, finding no improvement, walked back to Bobby.

"I don't like to be a chicken, Bob," it said.

"Why not? What does it feel like?"

"It feels skinny and I can't see so good."

"How else does it feel?"

"That's all how it feels. Make me stop being it."

"First tell me better what it's like."

"I told you already. Make me stop being it."

"What are you afraid of? Why don't you see what it's like first, before you change back? This is a valuable experience."

The chicken tried to put its hands on its hips, but could find neither hips nor hands. "You better change me back, boy," it said, and gave Bob the left-eye glare.

"Will you stop being stupid and just see what it's like first?" Bob was finding it difficult to understand her lack of curiosity.

"Wait till Mom sees what an ugly mess I am, boy. Will you ever get it!" Bonnie was trying very hard to see Bob with both eyes at once, which was impossible.

"You're a sissy, Bonnie. You ruined the opportunity of a lifetime. I'm disgusted with you." Bob dipped his forefinger in the serum and held it toward the chicken. It pecked what it could from the finger and tilted its head back.

In an instant, the chicken was gone and Bonnie was back. She climbed down from the table, wiped her eyes and said, "It's a good thing you fixed me, boy. Would you ever have got it."

"Ah, you're nothing but a sissy," Bob said, and licked off a whole fingerful of his formula. "If I change into a horse, I won't let you ride me, and if I change into a leopard, I'll bite your head off." Once again, the loud pop was heard.

Bonnie stood up, wide-eyed. "Oh, Bob," she said, "you're beautiful!"

"What am I?" Bob asked.

"You're a bee-yoo-tee-full St. Bernard, Bob! Let's go show Melissa and Chuck."

"A St. Bernard?" The animal looked disgusted. "I don't want to be no dog. I want to be a leopard."

"But you're beautiful, Bob! Go look in the mirror."

"Naah." The dog paddled over to the table.

"What are you going to do, Bob?"

"I'm going to try it again."

The dog put its front paws on the table, knocked over the serum and lapped up some as it dripped on the floor. Pop went the serum, taking effect. Bobby remained on all fours and kept on lapping. Pop went the serum again.

"What am I now?" he asked.

"You're still a St. Bernard," said Bonnie.

"The devil with it then," said the dog. "Let's forget all about it."

The dog took one last lap of serum. Pop! Bobby got up from the floor and dejectedly started out the back door. Bonnie skipped after him.

"What'll we do now, Bob?" she asked.

"We'll go down to Thrifty's and get some ice cream."

They walked down the hill silently, Bobby brooding over not having been a leopard and Bonnie wishing he had stayed a St. Bernard. As they approached the main street of the small town, Bonnie turned to her brother.

"You want to make some more of that stuff tomorrow?"

"Not the same stuff," said Bob.

"What'll we make instead?"

"I ain't decided yet."

"You want to make an atomic bomb?"

"Maybe."

"Can we do it in the juicer?"

"Sure," Bob said, "only we'll have to get a couple of onions."

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 5: A Sleepless Dream

Fandom: Inception

Pairing: Robert Fischer x OC

Summary: Alice finally opens up to Robert about what actually drove her back to him in the first place.

Word Count: 3,436

Notes: Warnings for references to self harm.

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Chapter 4: Insomnia

The beach house was much nicer than her condo. Spacious, with a beautiful view, a pool, and the biggest, fanciest television she’d ever seen. It wasn’t obscenely big, like his father’s mansion in Los Angeles had been, but it was still larger than any house she’d ever lived in before.

The bed in her room was something else too, soft and comfortable but firm enough that it wouldn’t hurt her back, with pillows squishy as a cloud and heating functions in the mattress pad and blankets that made her never want to leave its warm embrace. She felt a little like a cat, curled up in a nice patch of sunlight.

If only she could actually fall asleep.

Rolling from where she’d been laying on her side to her back, she sighed, eyes fixating on the ceiling fan above her. Exhaustion was heavy in her bones, leaving her head feeling fuzzy and eyelids drooping throughout the day, but still she could not sleep. Perhaps it was her body’s way of trying to protect itself from the frightful nothingness that a dreamless sleep would bring, or maybe her mind was too busy battling the sudden onslaught of repressed feelings that had come bubbling to the surface following her reunion with Robert.

Groaning in complaint, she rolled from the mattress, rubbing her eyes and staggering to the door, dragging the comforter from the bed with her. Still burrowed in the overstuffed, fluffy blanket, she waddled, penguin-like, down the hall. Taking the stairs slow, so as to not trip and fall, she ambled into the kitchen. Rummaging around in the cupboard, she found a half empty box of herbal tea, and a few packets of hot cocoa mix. Considering for a moment, she set the tea back into place, taking the cocoa with her. Filling the kettle with water, she set it on the stove, flicking it on.

“What are you doing up?”

She squeaked in surprise and dropped the packet, blinking with wide eyes at Robert from the little slit in her blanket that revealed her eyes, looking like a child caught by a parent doing something bad.

Eyes narrowing, she recovered quickly. “What are you doing up?”

Robert chuckled, stooping to pick up the fallen packet of cocoa. “I had some work I needed to finish.”

“Oh,” she looked down at the questioning raise of one of his eyebrows. “I just couldn’t sleep.”

Taking a step towards her, he frowned, fingers curling under her chin, thumb stroking just beneath her eyes.

“You have dark circles.”

“We can’t all look impeccable all the time like you do, you know,” she attempted to tease, blush blooming across her cheeks the moment the words had passed her lips. Trying to deflect didn’t work, as his eyes narrowed slightly, only somewhat offset by the barely noticeable pink dusting his cheekbones at what she’d just said. Hand rubbing his forearm in what she hoped to be a soothing gesture, Alice forced her lips into a smile. “I’m fine.”

The kettle started to whistle, but Robert didn’t move, instead continuing to examine her face, hand still settled on her cheek.

“Robert?”

Lips pressing together, blinking slowly, a few creases formed in his forehead as he continued to just stare at her.

“Robert, the kettle–”

Back straightening, like he’d just realized he was staring, he spun away, turning off the stove, reaching above her to grab two mugs from the cabinet. She shuffled a bit awkwardly back to the cupboard to get a second package of cocoa for him, the spoon he’d pulled from a drawer clicking slightly against the rim of the mugs as he stirred the brown powder into the steaming water.

“Mom would kill me for making cocoa with water instead of milk,” he said offhandedly.

“She’d be appalled that we were using the powder at all,” Alice laughed, taking her mug from him thankfully. Jocelyn Fischer had been an accomplished chef before she’d married Maurice, her talent for cooking something she’d come to share closely with Robert while he was growing up. Even after she’d died, he’d continued to take cooking lessons. Probably as a way to feel closer to her.

“Yeah,” the sad smile fluttering across his features was half obscured by his own mug. “C’mon,” taking her by the hand, he led her out of the huge kitchen and into the equally massive living room, pulling her to sit down next to him on the big sectional couch. Legs folding underneath him, he picked at a stray strand in his pajama pants, before lightly tugging on the comforter she still had wrapped around her. “You gonna share some of that?” the question was accompanied by a boyish grin. Setting her mug on the coffee table next to his, she untangled herself from the comforter just enough so that he could wrap himself up in it as well. They ended up nestled against each other, his side smushed against hers. Coughing, she forced her eyes to remain focused out the window. It was fully dark outside, leaving nothing but a black abyss to stare back at her. She knew that somewhere, not too far out, the waves of the ocean slid rhythmically back and forth against the beach. Alice tried her best to focus on that, instead of the steady rise and fall of Robert’s chest against her with each breath. Or how flustered she suddenly felt, skin tingling where it pressed against his.

“Alice…” she felt, more than heard, his chest shudder as he took a deep breath. “What’s really been going on?”

Grasping tightly onto the edge of the comforter to try to hide the way her hands trembled, she kept her gaze focused forward, blinking fast at the sudden, overwhelming pressure of tears building behind her eyes. She’d known that eventually, she would have to talk to him about the real reason why she’d come back. That didn’t mean that she was any more prepared to.

God, what was he going to think of her?

“Someone died,” she couldn’t look at him when she said it. “Someone died, during an experiment. And I think that it was my fault.”

For a long, terrible moment, Robert didn’t say anything as he slowly processed her words. “What do you mean?”

“I…” she had to take a few deep breaths, to quell the slight panic tightening in her chest. “We were running an experiment. Usually we just use our team, but this time we brought in another participant. We wanted to see how things changed with someone who had never been exposed to dream-sharing before. And…and…” her eyes squeezed shut, but that only made her feel worse, the darkness reminding her of what it had been like to be trapped in the embrace of death. Opening them, she found the baby blue of Robert’s eyes looking at her softly, listening patiently. “Something seemed wrong, and we should have stopped but we didn’t…”

Robert’s fingers massaged her back, both silently soothing and coaxing her to continue.

“And then the world started to, I don’t know, to melt and then it was dark and cold and I was alone and there was nothing there, Robbie,” she seized at him suddenly in panic, as if the nothingness was creeping in, about to swallow her up. He caught at her easily, drawing her in close until she was pressed flush against his body, arms and blanket creating a protective cocoon around her.

“You felt him die?” he asked quietly, breaths trembling in his chest at her nod. “Where was the rest of your team?”

“The projections, they’re like the white blood cells of the consciousness, they attack intruders, they’d already started coming after us. Tore Mal, Dom, Arthur, and Eames all apart. When you die in a dream, you wake up, so…they all got out before it happened.” 

“It sounds to me that one of your team leaders should have been the one responsible for pulling the plug, instead of you. You were just doing your job.”

Another trembled breath rushed from her lungs. “The family had an autopsy done, I think they were hoping for evidence that it was our fault so that they could sue, but it was inconclusive. Everyone keeps saying that he probably died from old age. But I can’t stop feeling so guilty. And that’s not all,” she glanced back out the window, to the dark nothingness that stretched out endlessly. Shivering, she turned her head back into Robert’s chest. “I can’t stop thinking about what it was like in his head when he died. How there was just nothing,” Robert squeezed her tighter to him, and she realized that she’d been trembling. “And I’m so scared of it–” her voice broke at the end, tears wedging in her throat to cut off her voice.

“Hey,” his arms tightened around her, as if he sensed the beginnings of sobs already growing within her. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” his voice was soft, painfully gentle as he tugged her closer while the first of many cries exploded from her lips. Tucking her in safely against him, he pulled the comforter more securely around them both, shushing and rubbing her back as she started to cry on him. “Oh, sweetheart. I’ve got you. It’s okay,” she shook her head furiously, burrowing closer to him.

Robert continued to rock her gently in his arms until her cries stifled from heavy sobs to quiet sniffles, his cheek resting on the top of her head. Nuzzling at him, she tried to burrow closer. Being cradled in his arms made her feel just a little bit safer, comfort from his mere presence alone leaving her to want to just hide away in his chest and never have to face the rest of the world ever again. 

Hands moving from rubbing her back to trace up and down her arms, where the sleeves of her hoodie had been pushed up to her elbows, she felt him stiffen as his palms passed over the raised scars that marked her forearms and wrists. Drawing back slightly, his eyes cast downwards, fingers tracing delicately over the still healing cuts, eyes glazing over as though he were about to cry too.

“Alice…”

“I’m…” she sniffled, wiping her nose on the back of her sleeve. “I’m sorry–”

“Shh,” he shushed her gently, kissing her forehead and pulling her closer. “It’s alright. You’re okay.”

Shaking her head, she buried her face into his shoulder. “I can’t sleep. Because after you use the PASIV for a long time, you start being unable to dream without it. And a dreamless sleep feels too close to death…”

Robert continued to rub her back, holding her close while he clearly thought about everything she’d just told him. Her heart sunk in her chest. God, she was a terrible friend. To come bursting back into his life and lay all this shit out in front of him as if he didn’t have enough to deal with already.

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” she whispered. But Robert just hugged her even tighter to him, shaking his head.  

“You were trapped in someone else’s head while they died, Alice. I don’t think anyone would blame you for being fucked up after that.”     

“I was always scared of dying. But now that I know what it actually feels like…It seems like it’s always there. This thing waiting to swallow me up. And it still feels like it was somehow my fault.”

“You were good at your job.”

“You’ve never ever seen me work.”

“I don’t need to. I’m sure you were phenomenal at it.”

Whining with quiet bashfulness, she buried her head in his shoulder. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” the confidence in his voice took her off guard. As if even the possibility of it was absurd.

“How are you so sure?” her voice was pleading. Begging for him to tell her how he could be so sure of that even when she wasn’t.

“Because I know you,” he stroked her cheek with soft fingertips. “It wasn’t your fault.”

A heaving sob ripped through her lungs, so powerful she thought it would stop her breathing, arms flinging around Robert’s neck in silent, desperate gratitude. He held her tight, waiting patiently, until she’d finally cried herself out.

“Is that why you came back?” he asked quietly after a moment.

“Sort of,” sniffling, she straightened, but didn’t pull very far away from him, allowing herself to enjoy the feeling of his chest beneath her head for just a little longer. “I guess that I figured if anyone could pull me out of wallowing in my own self misery it would be you.”

“Have I?”

Tilting her head up, she looked at him, so close she could feel his breath fanning across her face and count the freckles on his nose. Hands flattening against his chest, she allowed herself to feel how warm and solid he was against her.

“I haven’t taken a box cutter to my wrists since we met up again, so I’d say yes.”

Features twitching with a combination of pain and relief, his palm cradled the back of her neck. “Good. That’s good,” his other hand was still wrapped around her, and she imagined that to any potential onlookers they would have looked like a romantic couple embracing. A wistful, melancholic pang echoed in her heart. “I want to help you,” he murmured. “You tell me what you need.”

I love you.

Biting her lip, she looked down. When she’d left for France, it was with the hope that with time and space, she would be able to let him go. Or at the very least finally leave behind the agonizing longing of unrequited love that she felt for him. And yet simply being in the same vicinity as him had been enough to undo all of her hard work. Or maybe she hadn’t made nearly as much progress in getting over him as she’d thought she had. Either way, the feelings had burst forth with a vengeance. 

But she would not ask him for something that she knew he would never be able to give her.

“Being back, taking some time…it’s helped. It’s working, I’m getting better. I think.”

Nodding, relief plain as day in his gorgeous eyes, he leaned forward until their foreheads bumped. If she tilted her head up just the slightest amount, she could have kissed him. 

“But I miss it,” she admitted finally, slumping dejectedly. “I mean. I still use the PASIV to dream by myself. But I haven’t shared any dreams with anyone since…I just don’t know if I can trust myself again.”

“What if you started out small?”

Lifting from his chest, she narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he was clearly treading carefully, not wanting to pressure her. “I’d like to see what it is you did for a living for the past few years.”

“I…” she would have loved nothing more, than to show him the very thing she’d grown to love while she was away. But… “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Is it normally dangerous?”

“Well, no.”

“I’m not old. I don’t have any underlying health conditions. And I’ll have you with me,” he pushed some hair away from her face, fingertips skimming along her cheek. “I trust you.”

Brushing a hand along his jaw, she frowned.

“It’ll be okay, Alice,” he assured her. “Has anyone else died using it?” a deep, resigned sigh left her lips.    

“No. Not that I know of, at least.”

“And you said that the autopsy had no conclusive evidence that it was you or the PASIV that killed him.”

“Right…”

Shrugging, he smiled “Sounds like it’s still safe to me,” his thumb brushed gingerly over the dark, swollen skin beneath her eyes. “And you need to sleep, Alice.”

On her next sigh, she blew out her cheeks like a pufferfish in exasperation. Robert’s eyes sparkled, knowing that he had won. “It annoys me when you make sense like that,” she harrumphed, and he laughed, kissing her nose. “Fine, fine. I’ll go get it,” she began the reluctant process of untangling herself from him, but before she could fully stand he grabbed at her, rubbing at the cuts on one of her arms, frowning with sad eyes. 

“Alice, please…try not to hurt yourself anymore?”

She looked down at the still healing cuts and raised scars. She didn’t like looking at them, it made a heaviness press inside her chest. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” he let her go, and she whisked swiftly into her room, grabbing the silver case from where she’d stuffed it in the closet and heading back downstairs. Despite the pangs of anxiety shooting through her nerves, the beginnings of excitement, near giddiness, at the idea of showing Robert dream-sharing started to tremor through her spine.

“Okay,” she set the case down on the coffee table, opening it to reveal the mechanism inside. “So, um, you’re gonna need to lay back…” he pushed the button to recline the seat of the couch back. He’d spread the comforter out across it, so they could both lay on it while they slept. Getting comfortable, he watched her closely as she began to fiddle with the settings. “How long do you want to do this for?” she asked. “Five minutes out here gives us about an hour in the dream.”

“How long do you usually use it for?”

“A couple hours, at least.”

“We can do that, then.”

Nodding, she set the dosage levels and pulled free one of the IVs. “Okay. Give me your arm?”

He held out a pale forearm to her, her throat working as she swallowed, trying to focus on finding a vein and not the lean, warm muscle beneath her fingers.

“Good thing neither of us are afraid of needles,” he commented with a quiet laugh.

“I think Arthur’s a little squeamish about them. Not that he would ever admit it,” she said, slipping the IV into his arm. “There you go. It’s gonna get dark for a minute while I get myself set up.”

“‘Kay.”

Brushing some hair out of his face, she smiled. “I’ll see you in a minute.”

His eyes fluttered shut as the Somnacin entered his bloodstream, body relaxing back against the couch. For a moment, Alice paused. Just to appreciate the way that his face slipped into peacefulness as he slept. The sharpness of his jaw and cheekbones contrasted with the soft dotting of freckles across his nose and cheeks, the plushness of his lips. Without thinking, she leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. He twitched the tiniest bit in his sleep at the contact, a muscle in his cheek jumping before his features relaxed again. Laying down beside him, she reclined her own seat, sliding the IV into her arm. Leaning forward, she pressed the button in the middle of the PASIV. Watching the steady stream of amber Somnacin rush through the tube towards her, she settled herself back against the couch, and closed her eyes. 

Then she was on a bridge, overlooking a river. Squinting against the sun, she examined the buildings surrounding her. Projections breezed past, and she quickly moved closer to the railing of the bridge to stay out of their way. Pigeons, disturbed by the pedestrians, suddenly took flight. Spotting Robert leaning against the railing a few feet away from her, bending over it to examine the river below, she began to make her way over to where he was standing. Stretching up on her toes, she tapped him lightly on the shoulder.

“Hi.”

“Hey.” he looked her up and down. “Where are we?”

“It’s not a real place. Just an old layout that Dom taught me for an experiment we ran about a year or so ago. He always tells us never to use entire places from memory in dreams. But sometimes I do, if I want to revisit someplace that I’ve been. As a general rule though, it’s best not to.”

“Why not?”

“Something about it being easier to lose your grasp on reality, if you build places from the real world.”

“Huh,” his eyes were wide in wonderment as they darted around, taking in every little detail of the area surrounding them. Alice bit her lip to keep from smiling too wide at how cute he was. “So, how does this work?”

Hands reaching out to grasp his, she began to tug him towards one end of the bridge.

“Let me show you.”

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Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

[nonagesimus]

Birthday Prompt 4 - #alfredcritical

Prompted by @dickgraysonwayne

Alfred was used to finding people in his kitchen in the middle of the night.

Bruce, always, though he did tend to take pride in nights he managed to not wake Alfred up. Dick, from the moment he’d come to live in the manor. Difficult to miss, because the boy could never sit still even when he was eating a midnight snack. Jason had been difficult to catch, admittedly, but eventually had gotten to the stage where he’d put on tea for the both of them and wait for Alfred to show up. Tim barely spoke when he was caught, but always seemed quietly happy to see him. Damian had started bringing a sketchbook with him, turning the lights on properly so he could sketch while he ate. Even with the gaps, the times where some of them hadn’t been home, whether by refusal or by tragedy, Alfred clung to it.

He didn’t expect, when he came into the kitchen closing on three in the morning, to see Stephanie Brown.

It wasn’t that she never stayed at the manor, but she was generally shameless about taking food from the pantry before she went to bed so she didn’t even have to leave her room. It didn’t even look like she was eating anything, curled in the corner of the window seat by the small dining table. She just had a mug in her hand. There was a box of Swiss Miss instant hot cocoa sitting on the bench beside the kettle.

He held back a disapproving huff, and simply said, “You could have asked and I would have made you some.”

“I like the powdered stuff,” she said, voice croaky. “It tastes like childhood.”

He made an acknowledging noise. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Nah.” She swept a hand back through her hair, pushing it out of her face. “I’m good.”

She kept watching him as he moved around the kitchen. Elbows braced on the table, both hands wrapped around her mug. There was something calculating about her expression, but that wasn’t something Alfred was unused to. He’d always found it best to wait people out. Even when she started taking purposefully loud slurps of her drink. The mug emptied before he broke, and she put it back on the table a little louder than was necessary.

“Did you ever think,” she said, finally, “That Bruce was just full of shit?”

“Language,” he said sharply, before softening his voice to continue, “You’ll have to specify what you mean.”

“While watching my language?” she drawled. “Big ask.” Her fingers drummed on the table. “Just the whole. Bat thing.”

He gave her a searching look. “Of course,” he said. “When he first came up with the idea, I thought it sounded ridiculous.”

Her mouth quirked a little. “So, what convinced you?”

“I saw the good he could do,” Alfred said, walking over, and pulling out a chair opposite her. “And I saw the good it did him.”

“You mean he used to be worse?”

He gave her a censuring glance, but didn’t comment. “Master Bruce has always been at his best when he has something important to focus on,” he said. “He doesn’t do well if he’s aimless.”

“I don’t believe he’s ever been aimless,” Stephanie said.

“At times,” Alfred said. “Not many.”

“But he really sold you on it, huh,” she said.

“I would like it better if he’d chosen a safer path,” he confessed. “But the choice isn’t mine.”

“Right,” she said. “Makes sense.”

“What brought all this up?” he asked.

“I’ve just been thinking about how it started lately,” she said. “With Damian leaving, and Tim being Robin again. Feels weird looking back.”

“It’s been a long time,” he said.

“We were kids.” Her voice was soft. A line of tension running through it. “I didn’t even realise at the time, y’know?”

Ah. That was it.

“I never would’ve let Bruce take any of you out if I didn’t trust him with your lives. I believe,” he said solemnly, “With every fiber of my being, that Bruce only has the best of intentions for all of you.”

“Oh sure,” she said. “Intentions. They always lead such fun places.”

“I know how hard he works to protect you all,” he said. “When you let him.”

Her face was unreadable. “When we let him,” she said.

“You hardly make it easy on him,” he pointed out. “Even so, he’s better with you all out there alongside him.”

“Well, if he’s better,” Stephanie muttered, and he gave her a stern look.

“Are you trying to imply something?”

“Of course not.”

She pushed herself out of the window seat, picked up her mug and rounded the table to get back to the bench. Busied herself washing her mug out. Alfred stood, but just watched as she left it on the drying rack, and turned to head out into the hall.

“Ignore me, Alfred,” she said, on her way out. “I’m just thinking too much.”

[wyn-or-lose]

[A package, about 1 cubic foot in size, it is held closed by a large sticker with a Koffing-motif (and a lot of duct tape)

Within is a large sheet of stickers with typical pet Pokémon like lillipup and rockruff . There are 2 jars in the package. The first jar contains occa berry powder, labeled "Tix' Occa Special". The second is a tea made of various berries and herbs, labelled "Natural Trichloromethane". There is also a box of home made cookies.]

At the bottom is a letter. It reads:

"Dear Wyn,

I hope this reaches you well. This is just a little something to make your recovery a little bit more pleasant. I don't know if you make your hot cocoa with water or milk, but both work well with my personal blend. As for the Trichloromethane, don't worry, it's really just natural ingredients. Drink a cup if you have trouble sleeping, but be careful, not more than 2 cups. It can be nauseating if you drink too much.

I wish you all the best and a speedy recovery

Tix

PS: Muffin can't get enough of Roxy, he loves that video you posted a while ago when she rummaged through your closet."

- @koffing-time

Oh, wow, you really didn't need to send so much. Thank you!

Roxy wanted to sniff everything and I'm pleased to report it all passed inspection. Solosis and Pollen took a look as well, but Roxy was the lead on this one.

[Attached is a picture of Roxy. Most of her is visible, but her head is inside the empty box.]

She's very dedicated to her job.

[chuuyahoo]

Zhongli x Childe

Café au fluff one-shot (1970 words)

♥------------------------------------------------♥

♥------------------------------------------------♥

" Hey there Zhongli !! how are you doing today ? i hope im not too early for class" greeted Ganyu

"Im doing doing just fine and no you are right on time" Zhongli replied with a kind smile.

Ganyu, a busy med college student, very sleepy but extremely hardworking.

"Come driving rain or winds that churn, I shall return, by blade alone, armed, if barefoot, to my home.. good evening Mr. Zhongli" Kazuha said with a polite smile as he took his seat on the counter of the empty cafe.

"Good evening Kazuha , you are as poetic as always"

Kazuha, a middle school student with a way with words.

"Arataki "Numero Uno" Itto, here in the flesh! Hahaha... *cough*"

"Good evening itto .. er are you alright ?" Zhongli asked with a concerned smile

"Yeah im chill gramps"

"well thats good to hear" Itto took his seat besides Kazuha and started chatting away about beetles because "They're so cool little dude you have no idea"

Arataki Itto , an animal enthusiast and Earth science major, hes very excited most of the time.

"Good evening Zhongli !! Ei is finally free from mid terms so she's able to join us today!" Miko, freshly graduated, works in a publishing house.

"Hello." Ei or Raiden , she's in her last year of college doing business studies.

"Greetings Miko , Ei , im glad you could join us today !

We'll be making Bento cakes. They are the size of a bento(lunch box) but the rest is exactly the same as a normal cake."

All the "students" were standing at their own stations, which were just the cafe tables put together. They had a small notebook and pen in their hands ready to write down what notes Mr. Zhongli aka their teacher gave. A few actually wrote notes while some doodled "Beetle shaped icing supremacy"

Zhongli is a college graduate from Liyue College of Teyvat. He graduated in Business studies and culinary arts . Wanting to become a chef from an early age he had a clear dream in mind and was currently living it by owning a small yet popular cafe called Cafe Rax (named after his pet cat morax). He owned a few other places aswell but spent most his time here. He often gave lectures at LCT , being an alumni there.

baking lessons after the cafe closed was an impulsive decision but a good one since he found many friends. All the people came for different reasons.

Ganyu : "I feel like im too involved in work and i wanted a new hobby!"

Kazuha : he works at the cafe as a part timer "so why not, i wish to see where this path leads me"

Itto : "im gonna bake delicious stuff for granny, she's done so much for me !"

Miko : "itll be good seeing you everyday my friend , plus me and Ei can bake together"

Raiden : "for Miko"

The strength on the so called baking class was small but they were a happy lot.

"Firstly i want you all to tie your aprons and wash your hands"

Everyone in class had an apron of their choice , all of them had specific designs sewed onto them , Zhongli's had a small whale , Ittos had a little brown dog , Kazuha's had a purple and white electro sign , Ei's had a pink fox and Miko's had dango.

"Okay people now take out the following ingredients

2 eggs

1 egg yolk

Dark muscovado sugar 60g

Maple syrup 15g (1.5 tbsp)

1/2 tsp salt

All-purpose flour 50g

Dark cocoa powder 10g (1.5 tbsp)

("Thats sugar itto not salt"

"Pffftttt ofc i knew that haha-")

__________________________________________________________________________

He ran with a smile on his face and cheeky but slightly vacant eyes as water splashed around his feet and all of his clothing became drenched. If he didn't quickly find shelter, all of his books would be a tangled mess of soggy pages. In the distance, he could make out Cafe Rax. He debated whether or not to enter the coffee shop because there was a particular person there who gave him feelings he had never experienced before. He was motivated to genuinely live, to get up, and to improve by the person inside. If only the person was aware of him, things might progress if they did.

. . . . . . Okay maybe that was a little dramatic, they were best of friends but Mr. Ginger went ahead and fell in love .

Tartaglia had known Zhongli for at least four years, first as a senior in college, then as an alumnus delivering speeches, and last as a friend and his own personal barista who provided him biased discounts that no one had the courage to point out.

The bell jingled loudly, signalling the entry of a person into the cafe. Tartaglia came here every day at the same hour, so no one needed to turn their heads to see who it was. Zhongli looked up from where he was removing his mittens to see his best friend, whom he secretly adored staring at. Wet, vivid orange hair clung to his forehead, blue eyes flashing brightly, and a broad smile with all teeth and heated cheeks. Seeing his best friend in this state made Zhongli's heart race. He grabbed a towel and ran over to the ginger, grumbling about how he'll get sick if he continues forgetting his umbrella . "You should be more careful Childe , how many times have i advised you to carry a raincoat or an umbrella-"

He stopped abruptly when a hand came up to his face and a dainty finger grazed his cheek. His cheeks flushed at the contact, he barely managed to keep his composure .

"You had flour on your cheek" said Childe

Childe brushed his thumb again on the brunettes cheek , his touch was feather light .

It was flawless. Zhongli had a whale apron on, while Childe had a towel over his head and messy hair, all raw and domestic. Zhongli's eyes followed the tiny water droplets trickling down the ginger's face as they exchanged glances.

Zhongli extended his hand to touch Childes. He then closed his eyes and relaxed, savouring the sensation of his best friend's palm brushing across his cheek. Childe admired and loved him with all of his heart, hoping Zhongli could see how his eyes shone at the thought of the other man. The rest of the room was silent until Itto's cough shattered the tension

(his face was red from holding in the cough "dude." "sorry little guy i tried my best" "drink some water")

When the trance was broken, Zhongli returned to work with a flushed face, and Childe started doing his assignments as usual on Zhongli's desk. Both of them were focused elsewhere.

How could they focus on work when that just happened. Childe was getting tired of this 'routine'. He really wished for Zhongli to see him in a different light. Not as a friend but something more. He wanted to mean to Zhongli what Zhongli meant to him. He wanted to watch the sunset with him , hold hands , kiss him and be his forever and ever .

He distracted himself with algebra and soon enough his thoughts were lost in numbers and variables . He was so laser focused on his work that he didn't hear several ovens and the rustling of people walking out the door with the jingle of the bell.

("Cya little dude , now imma let granny taste this !!" "farewell for now my friend , i wonder how scara will like this" "Lets have a movie date ei" "of course")

Zhongli cleaned up the counter thoroughly. He collected all the bowls and other utensils used and kept them under the sink , then putting away all the extra ingredient back to their places.

He took out the freshly baked bento cake and started icing it. He had a variety of colours from which he chose blue , orange and little bit of red. He somehow managed to draw a chibi childe. He was happy with his creation. But he was also nervous because today was the day he was going to do it . Risk it all . Confess.

Zhongli had thought of the most extravagant ways to confess to childe but then he settled for the most familiar and meaningful way to do it. By baking. the cake had both his love for baking and for his dearest childe. He gazed at the ginger sitting at a desk , scratching his pencil on paper , eyes narrowed in concentration as her did his work. He couldnt be more proud , remembering the struggle the other had went through to reach this level of calm. The leg shaking had lessned and the focus had increased , his eyes were just a smidge brighter . Knowing he played a small role in the happening of that was just elating .

He grabbed the bento and softly kept it on the gingers desk which made him look up. He noticed?the cafe to be empty and all cleaned up.

"Sorry for intruding !! i should get going Zhongli"

"Its alright , i have to talk to you. Have this first , its- uh i made it for you"

(aww man he even looks professional while stuttering thought childe dreamily)

"For me?? im flattered , truly. If i may , what is the reason for such a mmmm delicious present?"(from a delicious man like yourself )

Zhongli took a deep breath as he took Childes hands in his, he could feel the roughness of his fingers , the warmth of them. He was feeling a different sense of calm. He was relaxed as he looked into his best friends eyes and dared to say the words harboured in his heart.

"Tartaglia, my darling I'm grateful for every minute you've spent with me. I'm always afraid that I won't be able to repay you. I adore you more with each passing year that we remain friends. I've never felt such intense feelings for someone before you. You came into my life and lighted it up. Your ocean blue eyes and beautiful hair never cease to amaze and entice me. I love you. With my entire heart. I would like to court you if you allow me to , beautiful. "

Zhongli looked up from where he had his eyes fixed on their conjoined hands. Blue eyes shone with unshed tears. He panicked for a second before relaxing at the sight of a smile making its way up to Childes face. There was a lot of crying as the younger shoved his face into Zhonglis chest and held onto him like he would never let go. Childe was just so happy to have his feelings returned.

After crying and blabbing out response to the confession, Zhongli looked at Childe and he looked ethereal even with red rimmed eyes and a puffy red nose . He cupped his face softly as he stroked his cheek with the pad of his thumb. They looked into each others eyes "Yes. You can court me Zhongli" said childe with a smile. They dont know who closed the distance but with the feeling of soft lips on each other , their minds went blank. They shared a single innocent kiss , till it became 2 then 3 and then countless. The love was visible in their every movement . The way Zhongli held the youngers face , the was Childe wrapped his arms around zhongli and into his hair and finally the way their lips moved against each others , something fresh and new that could never get old ....

Miko walked back to her house with a smile on her face as the sun shone down on her giving her an ethereal glow..."guess i'll get my notebook tomorrow , at least they got their shit together"she laughed and went her way...

END

♥------------------------------------------------♥

an : Thank you so much for reading!!! I hope you enjoyed :D it was really fun writing this, it's my first time posting here so this is new . Don't hesitate to point out mistakes!! Love y'all <3

Drink water!!

[scazrelet]

Observations

I’ve been writing these short poem snippets for awhile now, sending them to N as they occured, but never bothered to gather them or post them anywhere. So here are some of them. Gathered. Posted. Observation: A homeless man sleeps In an abandoned parking lot Curled up like a child On a pile of mattress His skin dappled by sunlight As dozens of cars pass Observation: It is golden hour The grass is frosted yellow By the fading sun A dog walks into the grass And contributes His touch of sparkling citrine Observation: Down at the end of the lot There is a bush bowed in a circle Like an ancient sea shell I've seen it hundreds of times But had never seen it As I looked a car entered the highway From the side street ahead Making a perfect point of life In the center of its curves Observation: There is a smooth stone Outside my apartment door I notice it every day Crystalized fog Polished by unknown hand or process I could take it inside Feel it cool in my fingers But then It would not be there to greet me And I know one day it will be gone Just like before it arrived But that’s okay with me too There is still time Observation: I went outside without my phone I want to say I noticed the grapefruit colored sky Or the knots hanging from the branches of the neighboring palm But these things were already in my vocabulary In truth what I noticed was how the drone of the cicadas Merged with the thrum of AC units And heavy traffic in the distance Observation: The shopping cart That I first saw on the lot And then in a dumpster And then in front of a different one Turned down and out of place Is now tucked behind a wall As if it is hiding Ashamed Or wounded from neglect A rat rises from its basket into the trees I thought we were alone here Observation: There is rye flour In the bathroom An empty jar of minced garlic A lemonade bottle That contains cocoa powder And arrowroot There is a cutting board In the bedroom With a collection of kitchen knives And there is a secret box Of dried herbs Kept in the closet A mortar and pestle And a number of crystals Salts and ink and beeswax And I find myself thinking I could pretend I'm a witch With the power to change To manifest more Than desperate hope And woven words Observation: His hat declares him a corporal And his left eye is the rebel flag He says he had a heart attack And he left the next morning The doctors said he'd be back That no one wants to die He says that he'd already been saved Back in Vietnam But if he'd known how things would go He never would have let them Observation: I love when the sky looks like this When the day's final sigh Fogs the celestial glass With a blushing band in the west The color of orange cream soda Swelling into the encroaching blue That velvet blanket is already adorned In twinkling opaline fire A funhouse mirror That changes the above and below A reality reconsidered A magician unfurling his cloak for the prestige

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #334

Plans to go visit Ma today got canceled. He was supposed to call when he was all set for me to come over, but 2pm came and went, and I was feeling weird and sad all day since waking up (likely still reeling from being underslept, underfed, and underhydrated...), and I can't drive in the dark. We would have only had a couple hours to hang out because it gets dark at like 4:30pm at my house now, thanks to “Daylight Savings Time”.

Daylight Savings Time is a ridiculous concept by which people in my country arbitrarily turn the clocks back one hour on some random fucking day in November, only to turn them ahead again by one hour sometime in the spring. It disrupts everyone's sleep schedule, and because of it, we see an increase in things like strokes, heart attacks, and traffic accidents for the next three days after a clock change. It's awful and I wish we'd stop doing it.

I decided that the thing to do was make mac and cheese. So I made a box of mac and cheese, and had it with the leftover pumpkin soup and slow-roasted lamb leg I made. But... and you'll notice this, too, if you've been reading my letters... the packaging for the cheese sauce changed. And so did the noodles. The noodles are slightly shorter and no longer ridged.

I was wary at first; normally when companies change their products, it's not for the better. But... the new packaging was a little easier to squish the cheese out of because when I squished it, the packaging stayed squished instead of opening back up. The sauce... tasted a little better, actually. The noodles were noodles. Overall, I was pleasantly surprised that the changes resulted in a better experience overall.

...I floundered for most of the rest of the day. I didn't go anywhere or do anything other than talk to a handful of people. Though the conversation was extraordinarily pleasant with both of the people I spoke to today, I still feel empty and weird on the inside, at least for now.

I'd like to say that I don't know what's wrong with me, but I do. I didn't sleep properly for a number of consecutive days. I haven't been staying hydrated. I've not been eating consistently or in a particularly balanced fashion. I gotta do a little better.

I did look for a pumpkin brownie recipe for ya today, and I found several strong contenders. I gotta sort through and see which one I wanna try first. I also gotta go get the supplies. I'll need canned pumpkin puree, at very least. That, and probably some cocoa powder and some chocolate chips.

...The ribs are really bugging me today. Sheesh.

Oh. I also loaded up the video I took of yesterday's tea. I'm sorry that it took until today for me to post it up for ya. But... well. You're used to time travel by now, I'm sure. I imagine one day's worth isn't too big a deal for ya in the grand scheme of things.

...It's just a silly little video of some silly little tea with a silly little conversation with a silly little Mogwai. I'll probably make another one soon. I think tea swirls are neat. If you wanna hear the “conversation” well, you should plug in some earphones!

...I feel empty today. Like I lost something to me that's very important. I'm hoping that it's just the result of dropping the ball on my self-care, but I dunno. I have this feeling of dread and loss that I can't seem to shake. Maybe I just need more water and sleep...

Hey. I know you can't answer me, but... how are you feeling...? Are you doing any better over there? Have you found a nice place to sleep for a bit? Are you someplace warm and soft? Are you safe...? Are you well fed and well hydrated? Do you have healthy, wholesome, supportive company where you are? Do you get to see something pretty once in a while...?

...I know the trajectory of the third part of the story has been planned out. I know there's probably nothing more I can do for you. But still... I'm rooting for your safety. I'm rooting for you to come back home to us. We miss you, you know. We of my world, I mean. And those of yours, too, I'm sure.

Well. J wanted to hang out and watch me play some Chrono Cross. It'll be nice to see Janus. He killed a lot more people than you, but... still, he's doing pretty well now. Built himself a fulfilling and happy life, without hurting people. Here's hoping you do the same.

I love you. Please stay safe. I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

[detective-watson]

Someone special gifted me a box of chocolates.

The packaging was beautiful. The box itself was velvety and soft to the touch. It was adorned with red ribbons and delicate lace all round the edges. It had my favorite brand’s logo on the lid in golden embossing. It reeked of sentimentality, of care, of thought. He knows what I like, and he thinks I deserve to have it.

When I opened the box, I found it completely empty. Deserted of desserts. The plastic inlay told stories of the shapes of the chocolates that would have awaited me. If I stuck my nose into a slot, I could even smell what flavors they would promise.

Where were my chocolates? What happened to them? He wouldn’t have given me the box if he knew it was empty... right? Did I not deserve them? Had some cosmic force taken it upon itself to deny me the simple pleasure of a single godforsaken bonbon?

There’s nothing I can do. I sit on my bed and pet the soft velvet of the box. I toy with the ribbons and run my fingers along the lace designs. I feel the texture of the embossed logo and I think about how those truffles would have tasted. Maybe if I stay here and pray hard enough, the next time I open the box I’ll be greeted by the strong scent of fresh cocoa.

For some reason, the scent finds me anyways. I open the box, but it’s still barren inside.

I notice my hands as I put the lid back onto the box. They’re darkly stained. The tips of my fingers are coated in powdered sugar and thick brown melt. I touch my index to my tongue. For a split second, I consider jamming it into the back of my throat. I know where my chocolates are, and I want them back.

Instead, I wipe my fingers clean with a handkerchief. Then, I tack the dirtied handkerchief onto my wall. If I can’t get my chocolates back, I can at least remember that I once had them.

Perhaps, if the stars align, I will buy another box. I’ll tape the lid closed, and I’ll keep my chocolates forever.

…Forever.

Forever, forever, forever.

What’s the use in forever? Chocolates aren’t meant to be eternal. Neither are we. Chocolates are meant to be enjoyed, consumed, digested. So are we.

I’m glad I’ve eaten my chocolates. Tomorrow, I’ll have another short-lived pleasure. Then the day after that, and the day after, until I’m all done with the quick little adventure of being alive.

I give my velveteen box one last gentle touch, then I place it on my nightstand and settle into bed.

Thank god I found my chocolates.

[channel4sims-cc]

TS4: Japanese Grocery and Food Items

Sul sul, Simmers ^^

It's been a few days I don't post because I was busy creating this huge set :)

I have a japanese family on my game, and they run a restaurant. So I was like "I have to create a few food items for them".

I ended up creating 42 items XD

This set comes with:

- Bamboo mat (to make sushi), bean sprout package, biscuit box, boiled egg bowl, bonito flakes bowl, bread scrumbs package, bread package, butter, candy package, cocoa powder, coffee bag, cup noodles, dashi soup stock, dried wakame, empty bowls, ginger, handmade noodles pack, honey bottle, ice cream pot, mayonnaise bottle, meat tray (beef, pork, fish, oyster, shrimp and chicken), mentsuyu, milk box, miso, narutomaki package, noodles pack, rice package, rice vinegar, sake bottles, seaweed bowl, seaweed package, sesame seed package, shichimi togarishi seasoning, sugar package, sushi tray, table salt, tofu, tomato sauce, wasabi, water bottle.

As expected all items are japanese, and some have more than one swatch.

Everything is decorative and base game compatible.

Some items are a little high poly, like the boiled egg bowl and the ginger. Test them in your game and see if they will make it run slow. But I don't think there will be any problems though :)

To find them on buy mode, just type "channel4sims - japanese" and they will show up :)

Read the download instruction on the post :)

Since this is a huge set and took me infinite hours to make, it’s an early access on Patreon. But don’t worry, it will be free in a few days :)

I hope you'll enjoy it a lot! I had a lot of fun creating this set :)

Happy Simming ^^

*-* DOWNLOAD (Patreon early access/free on March 31, 2022) *-*

[alltoolewis]

Day 6: A Christmas Night in - Pierre Gasly 🎄

Can't believe this is the first time I have ever written for Pierre!!! Like what the hell! Thank you to the anom who requested him & I agree that he is incredibly underrated on here! Sorry for it being so shit, it's so random!

Summary: You and Pierre decide to finally have a lazy Christmas night in the new house after such a demanding year...

Prompt: “What do you mean we’re out of hot chocolate?”

(Not proofread!)

What felt like the longest year of your lives, it was finally the end of the season! No more late-night travelling to random locations at crazy times, endless days of press and promos, late-night cuddles in a bed that don't feel like home! The minute the Abu Dhabi chequered flag was waved and the press came to an end, you both took the earliest flight back to your new home in Monaco... ready to finally celebrate the festive season in your own special way.

The sun crept through the poorly hung up curtains as your eyes strained open, Pierre's arm still draped over your bare waist as he pulls you deeper into his chest. You couldn't help but admire the man next to you... pride filling your body as you looked back at the incredible season he had, he might not have had a win but he won the hearts of F1 fans around the world... yours was won a long time ago!

"I can see you y'know" He groaned, accent thick as he peeled one eye open, a lazy smile gracing his face as you quickly tried to hide your face back in his chest "Hiding won't help mi amore" He chuckled, lifting your head back up as he stroked your hair out of your face.

"Hi" You sighed, accepting defeat as you looked into green eyes.

"Morning, darling.. sleep well?" The smirk was written in his voice as both of your minds flashed back to the night before. Shifting your body away from his you sat up, looking down at him as he attempted to pull you back to him "Very well Gasly... But I think it's time we get out of bed loviee! This house isn't going to unpack and decorate itself!"

You were right! You and Pierre decided a month before the season started to finally buy your first house together, both agreeing it should be close to home as you both settled on a perfect 4 bedroom property in Monaco! However as the season started and the days at home became limited, your new home felt anything but the such! Luckily, Pierre's Mum helped out with unpacking the important stuff such as clothes, memorable items from his career and your bedroom so it was ready for your arrival. But it was still missing the warmth touch as brown boxes scattered across the halls.

After much more persuasion and plenty more kisses, Pierre's finally gave you a helping hand. Starting in the kitchen as you gently sorted through the mixture of his and your items from your separate apartments! Both of you did not realise how much stuff you both had until you were trying to find a place to put it all... But after 3 hours of unpacking and a few broken plates later, it finally looked more like home, especially once the Christmas decorations his mother kindly dropped off was set up! It finally felt like you both could engage in festivities... starting off with your Christmas night in!

"Oh, I can't wait!" You sang as you gathered the Christmas snacks up making sure you grabbed a mixture of British and French treats up! Make your way back into the living room as you passed him the pile, a smile gracing your face as you looked at him cosy in your matching pyjamas "Looking good Mr Alpha Tauri!"

"I thought I told you not to call me that Amore...!" He chuckled, a part of him hating the nickname you gave him at the beginning of his season, but the other couldn't help but find it so wholesome!

"Oh, you love it really!" Giggling, you made your way back into the kitchen, grabbing two mugs as you waited for the kettle to boil so you could get started in making your signature hot chocolate. However, your heart sank as you opened the empty box of cocoa powder... "Baby where's Hot chocolate gone?..."

"We ran out I think..."

Storming to him you popped your head through the door amusement filling his face as he watched the anger slowly emerge through your body "What do you mean we're out of hot chocolate?"

"Umm... well..." He stuttered nervously "I... might of umm... had the last of it last night..."

"Are you kidding me Pierre's!?!" You fumed, red filling your face as you looked at your sheepish boyfriend, who couldn't help but laugh at how upset you were getting over a bit of hot chocolate "And now your laughing at me! Are you series!! You know how important this is for me and your laughing.... wow!"

"I'm sorry gorgeous..." He chuckled, making his way over to you as you took a step back in horror "I forgot we normally have hot chocolate... Please don't hate me... I love you..." Wrapping his arms around your waist he gave you a sheepish smile, causing one of your own to appear on your face... Although you were angry at him for forgetting a tradition you had, you could never hate him.

"I don't hate you gorgeous!" You giggled, pecking his lips lightly "I'm just confused how you had the time to make a hot chocolate when you were fucking me all night! Was I not good enough to fulfil your pleasure!"

"Oh trust me amore... you were good enough!" He smirked, lifting you in the air as he made his way back onto the couch "I was just craving a hot chocolate!" Throwing you down gently he hovered over you, capturing your lips to his as he gently tugged your bottom lip "But right now... I'm craving something sweeter!"

[melk917]

More Than Chocolate

Warnings: Kissing, teasing

Rating: T

Pairing: Paul Mendelson x gn!Reader

Summary: Paul isn't just going to sit by and let you steal the last bite of dessert.

Song: Chocolate, Maluma (Tú a mí me gustas más que el chocolate)

A/N: Ok, so back on my speed writing train because I've realized I have 25 of these to write total and only so much time. So rough & unbetaed... please let me know if you catch anything!

You’re honestly not sure you could give a summary of the movie flickering on the screen. Tucked warm against Paul’s side, his hand tracing nonsensical patterns across your shoulders and down your back, you’re halfway to being asleep and have been for a while. He smells like cotton and detergent and a faint hint of musk from his skin and you bury your face in his shoulder, content just to feel him, pressing a kiss through his shirt. He hums in response and his wandering hand wraps more firmly around your waist to pull you against him.

There’s a rustle of foil and cardboard and you crack an eye to see him rooting around in the box of chocolate truffles balanced precariously on his chest, his eyes still on the screen.

“Any left?” You stretch, shouldering up as you crane your neck to try and peer into the box.

He glances down, shaking it, and something rattles against the sides. Tilting the box in your direction, he offers up the contents.

A single dark chocolate truffle sits nestled against the foil, alone except for the lingering smudges of cocoa powder on the sides. You make a pleased noise and pluck it up, popping it in your mouth. It’s rich and bitter, and you moan softly as you hold it against your tongue, savoring the indulgence.

It’s that moan that captures Paul’s attention and he shakes the box again, tilting it so he can peer inside, eyebrows knitting together in a frown.

“Wait—that was the last one?”

You glance up and he’s pouting, an adorable little frown on his face as he registers the loss. He turns his sad, puppy dog eyes on you, lower lip jutting out as his eyes drop to your mouth, jealous of both you and the truffle. You’d feel bad, except for the incriminating smudge of cocoa powder at the corner of his lips that betrays just how many he’s already eaten.

Lips twitching against a smirk, you catch the truffle in your teeth, pressing it forward with your tongue to tease a flash of it at him, smiling around candy.

He snorts, pathetic expression melting into something a touch more predatory, his hands sliding down your back to brush over the curve of your ass as he leans up. “Didn’t your mother teach you not to play with your food?”

You close your lips around the truffle again with a giggle, shaking your head, tongue flashing out in a teasing curl to catch the cocoa powder on your lips, his eyes dropping to track the motion. He pinches your ass in retaliation and you let out a muffled yelp, squirming against him.

“Oh ho,” he’s grinning now, empty box falling to the side as he levers up and catches your wrist in one hand, twisting and rolling the two of you until he has you pinned under him, his forearms pressed into the cushions on either side of your head, hands tangled together, thighs straddling your hips. The press of his weight sends a shiver of desire through you, and he’s smirking knowingly as he traps you there.

You arch up in response, laughing around the chocolate, even as you start to chew, twisting underneath him and turning your head side to side to dodge his advances as he ducks low in an attempt to catch your lips with his.

He misses, pressing kisses to your cheeks, your chin, the corners of your mouth instead—whatever he can reach as you continue to laugh soundlessly and wiggle in his hold, letting the last of the truffle melt across your tongue.

“No—no.” He’s chuckling too, eyes sparkling as he catches your face in his hands, fingers catching in your hair, thumbs stroking along your jaw, as he holds you still with a firm but gentle grip that makes your heart beat faster and heat pool low in your belly. “Sharing is caring.”

Your answering snort is cut off as he tilts your face up and ducks down to finally capture your lips with his, the press of his mouth firm and warm. You make a soft sound against him, your hands coming up to grasp his biceps as his tongue swipes across the seam of your lips, first in a tease as he pulls back slightly, then more insistent, pressing forward, coaxing them open so he can lick into your mouth, chasing the lingering richness of the truffle with a low moan.

Groaning, you open up to him, chasing his tongue with your own, hands sliding up his arms and over his shoulders to tangle in the short hairs at the back of his head to scratch at his scalp, making him shiver and rock his hips down against you.

He pulls back slightly, breath quick and shallow, brushing warm across your face as he looks down at you, eyes bright, cheeks slightly pink. You run your nails across his scalp again and rock up against him, smirking as his eyes slip shut and he bites his lip.

“Poor baby, missing out,” you murmur, grinning at his answering snort. “But maybe I can offer you something else for dessert instead?”