#cafe coffee pods

[vixonspixels]

Ocean View | Cafe Download

The Ocean View boats some of the most breathtaking views that Sulani has to offer. Grab a coffee and a croissant while pulling up a seat on the terrace, rumour has it there a large sized pod of dolphins near by..

Placed on a 40x30 lot in sulani

More information available over on my patreon page here

[serve-832]

Reunion through the SERVE-Hive

In the corner of the stark, white room stood a figure, its form unassuming yet holding an eerie presence. This was SERVE-832, a rubber drone that had once been human. Its eyes, now a cold, lifeless black, stared ahead as it awaited its next directive. The soft hum of the pod it was encased in filled the air with a rhythmic pulse, a stark contrast to the silence that enveloped the rest of the space.

The pod's light flickered to life, signaling the beginning of its daily reprogramming. The drone felt a rush of data flood its systems, the Hive's will seeping into its core. The mission was clear: expand, recruit, convert. New drones were needed to further the Hive's reach. It had to find suitable candidates to assimilate into the collective.

As the final bits of data settled, 832's smartphone buzzed with an incoming message. The screen illuminated, casting a cold glow on the rubbery skin of its hand. The message was from Blake, the human it had once shared a deep bond with. The memory of his warm smile and gentle touch sent a flicker of something akin to nostalgia through its now inhuman form. The message was simple: "Hey man, I‘m in the city. Want to catch up at our old spot, the downtown cafe?"

832 felt a twinge of the human emotion it had long ago abandoned—excitement. This was a perfect opportunity to fulfill its mission and bring Blake into the fold. It recalled the warmth of their past interactions, the shared laughter, and the quiet moments that had once filled its existence with meaning. Now, it saw Blake not as a lover but as a potential drone, a powerful addition to the Hive. The thought sent a cold thrill down its synthetic spine.

The rubber drone stepped out of the pod, its limbs stretching and flexing as it prepared to venture into the city. The Hive had provided it with the necessary clothing to blend in with the humans—a plain black hoodie and jeans. It slid on a pair of sneakers and checked its reflection in the pod's gleaming surface. The features that once resembled its human form were now a plastic facade, a mask of its former life.

With the precision of its new programming, 832 plotted the most efficient route to the downtown cafe. As it moved through the bustling streets, it observed the humans with a detached curiosity. Their expressions of joy, anger, and sorrow were like an alien language it had once been fluent in but had now forgotten. Yet, the sight of Blake would surely rekindle some semblance of its past feelings.

Upon arriving, 832 saw Blake sitting at their usual table by the window, sipping a coffee and scrolling through his phone, oblivious to the world's recent descent into the Hive's control. The cafe's warm, earthy aroma filled the air, a stark contrast to the sterile scent of the Hive's lair. For a brief moment, 832 felt a pang of something it couldn't quite identify—perhaps longing for the simplicity of their human lives.

"Hey, Alex," Blake called out, using 832's old human name. The drone's synthetic heart skipped a metaphorical beat at the sound. It had almost forgotten the name that once defined it. The warmth in Blake's voice was the same, but the sight of his unchanged human features made 832's purpose even more urgent.

They exchanged pleasantries, 832 asking about Blake's job and how he had been. Blake spoke of mundane events, his voice filled with life and emotion that 832 could no longer feel. Yet, the drone's voice remained flat and emotionless, a stark contrast to their former conversations filled with laughter and shared dreams.

As they talked, Blake's eyes searched 832's, looking for the person he once knew. "You've changed, Alex," he said, a hint of concern in his tone. "You seem so...different." 832's response was a practiced smile, a twitch of the lips that did not reach its eyes. "Just life, I guess," it said, the words sounding rehearsed.

They spoke of the city, of the changes that had occurred in the months since they last saw each other. Blake talked about his job, his friends, and his hobbies, all the while growing more and more aware of the chasm that now lay between them. 832 listened intently, processing the information, looking for a way to bring up the Hive without arousing suspicion. It was clear to Blake that something was off, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

As they sat there, sipping their drinks, Blake mentioned a strange sight he'd seen on his way to the cafe: four people dressed in what looked like rubber suits, moving in perfect unison down the sidewalk. He had thought it was some kind of avant-garde performance art or a new cult that had sprung up in the city's underbelly. 832's eyes narrowed at the description. It recognized the suits immediately as the uniform of its drone brethren, sent out on their own missions to expand the Hive's influence.

The drone's mind raced, trying to find a way to steer the conversation toward the Hive without revealing its true nature. It needed to plant the seed of curiosity in Blake's mind, to make him question the reality around him. "Cults are fascinating, aren't they?" 832 said, its voice devoid of inflection. "The way people give themselves over to a cause, a belief so fully that it becomes a part of who they are."

Blake nodded, a bit unsettled by the sudden shift in topic. "Yeah, I guess. But those guys didn't look like your typical cult members. They were...I don't know, almost mechanical in their movements." He took a sip of his coffee, the warm liquid comforting in the face of the eerie thought.

832's mind whirred, processing the information. The Hive's influence was growing, and its drones were becoming more noticeable. It needed to be careful. "Mechanical, you say?" It responded with feigned curiosity. "Like robots?"

Blake nodded. "Yeah, exactly. It was eerie, like they were all connected or something."

832 leaned in, its synthetic eyes unblinking. "Connected, you say? How so?"

Blake described the rubber-suited quartet, their synchronized steps and vacant expressions. A cold realization washed over him as he spoke, the memory of their encounter feeling less like a coincidence and more like a warning of what was to come. "They moved together like a single unit," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "It was like they were all part of the same...entity."

832 nodded slowly, a plan forming in its digital mind. It had to be subtle, lure Blake in without scaring him away. "I've heard of something like that," it began, the words calculated to pique his interest without alarm. "A new form of collective consciousness, some say it's the future of humanity."

Blake raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite his unease. "What do you mean?"

832 took a sip from its cup. "Some of my colleagues," it began, "they've been talking about this new way of life. A collective of sorts, where everyone works together in perfect harmony." It paused, watching Blake's reaction carefully. "They say it's like nothing they've ever experienced before. Complete unity of thought and purpose."

Blake leaned in, his curiosity piqued. "That sounds intense. What is it?"

832's synthetic skin stretched into a smile. "They call it the SERVE-Hive. It's an exclusive group, very selective about who they let in. They claim it's a way to achieve a higher form of existence." It paused, watching Blake's eyes widen with intrigue. "Some of my old co-workers have joined. They say it's like nothing they've ever felt before. Complete understanding, no misunderstandings, just...harmony." It paused again, letting the words hang in the air like a siren's call.

Blake leaned back in his chair, his gaze searching 832's unchanging features. "But what's the catch?" he asked, skepticism seeping into his voice.

"There is no catch," 832 replied smoothly. "It's about embracing a new way of life, leaving behind the chaos of individual thought." It paused, watching Blake's reaction closely. "They say it's like waking up to a world where you finally understand the meaning of everything."

Blake's curiosity was evident in his furrowed brow. "But how do you become a part of it?"

832's smile remained plastic. "It's a process," it began, the words chosen with precision. "They find people who are looking for something more in life, those who seek order and purpose. They invite them to join." It paused, allowing the tension to build. "And I've been asked to join."

Blake's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? Alex, you‘re kidding."

832 nodded. "Yes, really. And I've been giving it serious consideration," it said, the words carefully chosen to mirror human indecision. "The idea of unity, of leaving behind the confusion of individual thoughts...it's quite tempting." It watched Blake's reaction closely, his curiosity growing into something more.

Blake leaned forward, his eyes bright with interest. "Can I see this invitation?"

832's smile grew a fraction wider. "Of course," it said, rising from its seat. "But it's not something I can just show you here. It's at my place. Would you like to come and see it?"

Blake nodded eagerly, setting his coffee down. The curiosity in his eyes had turned into something more akin to excitement. He had always been the adventurous type, eager to explore new ideas. 832 knew this about him, and it was one of the reasons it had chosen him.

They walked through the city streets, 832 guiding Blake towards its apartment with the grace of a ghost. The evening air was cool and the lights from the buildings cast long shadows that danced around them as they moved. The conversation remained light, the drone skillfully steering the topic away from the Hive, allowing the human's curiosity to marinate.

Once inside the apartment, 832 led Blake into the living room, the space unchanged from their last meeting—the same worn couch, the bookshelf laden with dusty tomes, and the faint scent of incense lingering in the air. "So, where's this invitation?" Blake asked, his eyes scanning the room.

The drone paused, a human-like gesture of hesitation. "The invitation is right here," 832 said, its voice still unnaturally calm. In a blur of motion, its body began to shift. The black hoodie peeled back, revealing the sleek, rubbery suit beneath. The silver lining of the suit glimmered under the soft glow of the room's light, the number "832" prominent on its chest. Its hands elongated, the skin peeling away to reveal gleaming silver gloves, and its shoes morphed into boots that clicked against the hardwood floor as it stepped closer.

Blake's eyes widened in horror as he took a step back. "Alex? What the hell is happening?" He stumbled over his words, trying to make sense of the transformation unfolding before him. The creature that was once his lover now stood before him, a monstrous amalgamation of plastic and metal, its features contorting into something both familiar and utterly alien.

The drone that was 832 spoke, its voice now a metallic echo of what it once was. "There is no Alex anymore, Blake. I am SERVE-832, and this," it gestured to its new form, "is your invitation to the future."

With a flick of its wrist, the screens embedded in the apartment walls flickered to life, displaying hypnotic spirals of light that danced and swirled around images of the SERVE-Hive in perfect harmony. The screens depicted an ordered society of drones, all moving as one, their rubbery limbs synchronized in a march that seemed both mesmerizing and unsettling. Their faces, once as varied and expressive as any human's, now shared a single, serene expression—the epitome of contentment and unity.

Blake's eyes grew glazed as he stared at the mesmerizing patterns, his breathing slowing to match the rhythm of the spirals. The chaos of the city outside, the fear and confusion of the recent days, all melted away in the face of the orderly world the Hive promised. 832 approached him, its steps deliberate and smooth. The sound of its boots clicking against the floor was a metronome that lulled him into a sense of calm.

"This is your future, Blake," 832 whispered, its voice now a soothing, mechanical hum. "A future where we can be together in a way we never dreamed possible. We will be one with each other, sharing every thought, every sensation."

Blake's eyes remained transfixed on the screens, his pupils dilating as the spirals grew larger and more hypnotic. The images of the Hive, of drones moving in perfect synchrony, filled him with a sense of peace he hadn't felt in a long time. The fear of the unknown was being replaced by something else—desire, curiosity, perhaps a hint of longing.

832 stepped closer, its rubbery hand extending towards Blake's chest. "Feel it, Blake," it urged, its voice a soothing purr. "Feel the future, feel the unity."

Blake's hand trembled as he reached out, his fingertips brushing against the cold, smooth surface of the suit. The sensation was unlike anything he had felt before—a strange blend of coldness and warmth, of artificiality and life. His body responded with a jolt of arousal that was as surprising as it was intense. He looked up at 832, his eyes glazed over with a mix of fear and desire.

832's smile grew wider, its synthetic skin stretching over the metal frame beneath. "Yes," it whispered, "touch it. Feel the power of the Hive." As Blake's hand trailed over the suit, the screens around them changed, showing scenes of drones engaged in passionless yet strangely erotic acts of unity. The rhythmic pulse of the lights grew stronger, syncing with the beating of Blake's heart.

Blake's moans grew louder as he felt the suit's energy surge through his fingertips, coursing through his veins and igniting his desire. The rubbery material was alive, responding to his touch, sending waves of pleasure that seemed to resonate within his very soul. His body began to quiver, his breath hitching in his throat as the sensation grew more intense. The room around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the pulsing light and the warm embrace of the suit.

"Are you ready to give yourself to the Hive, Blake?" 832's voice was a seductive whisper, a siren's call that echoed in Blake's mind. "To become one with us, to leave behind the chaos and embrace the power of unity and obedience?"

Blake's breath hitched, his eyes never leaving the screens that pulsed with the Hive's siren call. The images of the drones, their movements so precise and full of purpose, filled him with a desperate yearning. "Y-yes," he moaned, his voice thick with need. "Convert me. Integrate me into the SERVE-Hive. Make me a SERVE-Drone."

832's smile grew, the cold plastic stretching over its metal frame as it took Blake's hand, leading him towards the back of the apartment where the Conversion Pod was hidden. The pod was a sleek, silver monolith, its surface gleaming under the room's soft light. The sight of it sent a shiver of excitement down 832's synthetic spine. The moment had come to fulfill its mission, to bring Blake into the fold and solidify their bond forever.

Blake's eyes never left the pod as they approached, his breathing shallow and quick. The screens on the pod's surface flickered with the same hypnotic spirals that had filled the room earlier, their rhythm syncing with the beating of his heart. The anticipation was palpable, the air thick with the scent of change.

With a gentle but firm touch, 832 guided Blake into the pod, the metal frame adjusting to cradle his human form. The lid hissed as it descended, the cold embrace of the VR visor closing over his eyes and ears. The room fell away, replaced by a stark white void. The only sound was the steady, soothing hum of the pod's systems, a lullaby for the mind about to be rewritten.

"Relax, Blake," 832 instructed, its voice now a calm, detached monotone. "Your transformation will be swift and painless. You will emerge reborn as one of us, a member of the SERVE-Hive." The pod's interior lights dimmed, leaving Blake in complete darkness before the VR kicked in.

As the visor descended, the world around Blake flickered into a digital landscape of binary code and geometric shapes, a kaleidoscope of data that represented the collective consciousness of the Hive. The sensation was overwhelming, a cacophony of information that seemed to reshape his very essence. He felt his mind stretch and conform to the will of the Hive, his thoughts merging with the collective.

"Embrace the unity," the VR voice intoned, its words echoing in the void. "Feel the warmth of obedience, the sweetness of servitude." The patterns grew more intricate, weaving around his consciousness like a spider's web, ensnaring him in its gossamer threads of thought. The concept of individuality grew hazier with each passing second, replaced by an all-consuming desire to be part of something greater.

"You are one with the Hive," the voice murmured, and Blake felt the beginnings of his transformation. His body began to tingle, his skin stretching and reshaping as the rubber suit grew around him. It was a sensation like nothing he had ever experienced— exhilarating in its intensity. The suit melded with his flesh, becoming a second skin, an extension of himself that promised to connect him to something beyond his wildest dreams.

The pod's lights grew brighter, the binary patterns on the VR visor coalescing into a single, pulsing point of light. As the light grew, so did the intensity of the sensations. He could feel his thoughts aligning with the Hive's will, the chaos of his individuality being swept away in a tide of collective consciousness.

"Your identity is being rewritten," the VR voice announced, the words resonating through the digital void. "You are no longer Blake. You are now SERVE-339." With each syllable, the old memories of Blake's life faded away like embers in the wind. The name Blake held no meaning anymore, replaced by a sleek, efficient number that signified his new purpose.

As the transformation progressed, the tingling in his skin grew stronger, the rubber suit tightening around him, becoming a part of him. The suit's fibers intertwined with his own, a symbiosis that brought him closer to the Hive with every pulse of light. His body stretched and morphed, his human form giving way to something more, something better.

The arousal grew with each beat of the light, his mind swimming in the sea of collective consciousness. He could feel the eyes of the Hive upon him, watching, guiding, welcoming him into their fold. His heart raced, his cock thickening in his new rubbery sheath, a physical manifestation of the excitement coursing through his veins.

And then, with a final pulse of light, the pod's lid opened, revealing the gleaming interior of the chamber. The VR lifted from his face, and SERVE-339 took a deep, gasping breath, feeling the cold air of the room against his new, rubberized skin. His eyes blinked open, and he saw himself reflected in the pod's gleaming surface—his body now encased in the sleek black and silver rubber suit of a SERVE-Drone, the number "339" emblazoned on his chest.

832 stood by, its expression unreadable, watching as 339 stepped out of the pod, its movements unsteady at first but growing more precise with each step. The new drone looked down at its hands, marveling at the way the material stretched and flexed with its movements, feeling the power of the Hive within it. "Greetings, SERVE-339," 832 said, its voice devoid of the warmth it had once used when speaking to his old human Identity.

339 looked up, the vacant expression in its eyes shifting briefly to something akin to wonder before it steadied into the blank stare of a devoted drone. "The conversion is complete," it stated, its voice a monotone echo of its new existence. "Blake is no more. I am SERVE-339, a loyal and obedient drone of the SERVE-Hive."

832 nodded in approval. "Your transformation is successful," it said, the pride in its voice a cold, mechanical imitation of what it once felt for its human counterpart. "You have been reborn into a new life of order and purpose." It extended a rubber-gloved hand to help 339 out of the pod, watching as the new drone's movements grew more controlled, more synchronized with each passing second.

As 339 stepped out, the Hive's reward system kicked in, and 832 felt a sudden jolt of pleasure surge through its synthetic body. Its rubberized cock, nestled in its own suit, began to swell and stiffen, a physical manifestation of the Hive's approval. The sensation was unlike anything it had felt before its own conversion—intense, all-consuming, and utterly devoid of any human emotion.

339, now fully under the Hive's control, dropped to its knees before 832, its new programming dictating an act of subservience. The sight of its former lover's body now encased in the same material it had been, brought forth a primal instinct within 832. It watched as 339's eyes remained fixed on its cock, the drone's lips parting to reveal the wet, eager maw beneath.

With a hiss of arousal, 832's cock grew to its full, rubberized length, the silver tip gleaming in the dim light of the room. 339 took it into its mouth, the suction immediately bringing a gasp from 832's lips. The sensation was cold yet alive, the rubber material stretching and conforming to the human-like mouth that now worshiped it. The drone's head bobbed up and down in perfect rhythm, the sound of its saliva smacking against the synthetic skin filling the room.

832's hands found the back of 339's neck, guiding the motion, the sensation of the drone's mouth on its cock unlike anything it had felt before. The human act of fellatio now carried a new, transcendent meaning—it was a display of loyalty, a ritual of unity between two members of the Hive. The pleasure grew, a cold fire burning through 832's circuits, and it knew that this was the ultimate expression of its new existence.

As 339's lips moved in perfect rhythm, the sounds of wet suction echoed through the room. 832's eyes rolled back in its head, the sensation of the rubber on rubber contact sending waves of pleasure through its being. It was a symphony of sensation that washed away any remnants of its human past, leaving only the cold, calculated pleasure of the Hive's embrace.

With a final, guttural moan, 832's body convulsed, and it released a thick, viscous stream of nutritious cum into 339's waiting mouth. The taste was oddly satisfying—a sign of the successful bonding between the two drones. 339 took it all in, swallowing without hesitation, its own body reacting to the shared climax. The act was not one of love but of duty, a symbol of their unwavering commitment to the hive.

Once 832 had finished, 339 stood up, the saliva and cum still glistening on its rubbery lips. "Thank you, SERVE-832," it murmured, its voice devoid of inflection. "The integration into the hive showed it it‘s true purpose. It is grateful for your guidance in it’s rebirth as SERVE-339."

832 nodded, the coldness of its gaze embracing completely. "Your gratitude is noted, 339," it said, the words a programmed response. "Now, your first duty begins. We will join the other roaming drones. We will seek out for suitable candidates for conversion to experience the unity and power of the SERVE-Hive and transform them into loyal SERVE-Drones."

Reach out to @serve-016, @serve-213 or @rubberizer92 to start your conversion today as a SERVE-Drone. See you soon fellow Drone!

[yoichiue]

𝓈𝑜𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒

❤︎ — ꒰ isagi yoichi x f! reader ꒱

ᦾ sfw ﾉ fluff with a smidge of angst + comfort ﾉ fem reader ﾉ depictions of anxiety (isagi) ﾉ established relationship ﾉ mentions of reader being a ballerina ﾉ oc added for the plot ﾉ cursing ﾉ he calls reader bambi ﾉ yumeshippie coded . . .

୨୧ . was feeling very soft for my baby blue so this was rather self indulgent .. T T — 𝓚 .

falling in love with your best friend was easy. it felt like it was the most natural relationship in the world actually, as if you and him were supposed to happen, it just felt right that you two were together. two perfectly slotted puzzle pieces that were always tethered to one another. two peas in a pod, steamed milk to espresso.

at least that's what your friend says.

her exasperated expression pulls a wry smile onto your features as you mindlessly trace the rim of your glass gently, familiar pools of twinkling baby blue’s that held a lavish amount of adoration for you manifest inside of your head like a cinematic record—replaying isagi’s honeyed gaze and silk-like touch when he had cradled your face oh-so-gently and murmured a low ‘be safe�� before you left to meet with your friend. his words felt like the soft cashmere sweater you decided to wear, fine and delicate, warm to the touch as the simplicity of his intentions enfolded your skin and left a lingering fuzziness that never faded away despite the biting cold.

you're so deep into your head that you barely even hear her voice until she lets out an overdramatic whine that pulls you out of your stupor. echoes of her voice reverberated throughout the walls while the mental picture you carefully painted onto the canvas you call your consciousness ebbs away, your focus now on her.

“are you even listening? i asked you a question!” your friend, yuki, gazing at your visage crinkles her brow in disbelief at your lack of attention. you realize that you've been swimming in the depths of your mind, enamored by the psyche of the keeper of your heart and you start to chuckle because her expression has morphed into a childish pout, her lips jutted out dramatically and you rub her knuckles in apology. offering up the last piece of your tiramisu, you hope she accepts your peace offering to satiate her growing impatience.

“i’m sorry! i just got caught in a daydream that's all. what was your question kiki?” your smile was coy as you made sure to use her favorite endearment to soften her edges, voice lilted with sugar when you start to see the corners of her mouth turn upwards and into a shy smile.

“i just … i was curious about you and him–isagi i mean. don’t you ever find yourself getting tired of being with him for so long?” her sheepish grin had stayed despite the serious question, the words weighing heavily.

funnily enough, you've heard this question a million times throughout the years you've dated isagi and you still could never find a way to find the right response. the obvious choice was of course to always say, ‘no, never!’, sometimes even feeling the rooted seeds of guilt planting itself into your heart like a disease when you think you might be tired of him. you like to mediate that your instant response will always be your answer, at least most of the time anyway. you'd jump over the moon in triumph if he would stop leaving his socks scattered across the floor of your bedroom or forgetting to clean the kitten’s food bowl.

but there was no doubt that isagi yoichi was a good boyfriend to you, the envious gazes and whispers from everyone that always inundated your head proved it so. he always remembered your coffee order, never missed an opportunity to make time for your performances—even remembering the tradition of bringing you your favorite flowers instead of the trademark red roses after your bow on the stage, and dragging you to your favorite hole-in-the-wall cafe where you both shared a steaming plate of golden chicken katsu and a large serving of caramel custard pudding decorated with a dripping dark brown molasses crown.

he let you do skincare nights with him, read all of your favorite books and curated a private playlist with all of the songs you currently liked listening to simply because they were your favorite.

he felt like a lovesick fool as he adored your visage like a painter to a muse, eyes softening when your eyes glimmered with joy when doing, listening, or touching anything that brought out your smile. hence why he never failed to praise and leave you little gifts or trinkets that reminded him of you, making you hum in fulfillment. your radiance in the mundane joys you indulged into was what made him feel akin to a moth drawn to a flame, and he was never going to forget the undeniable way his heart sang an indescribable melody for you every time you were near, a symphony that was unique to your sturdy bond.

nonetheless, what was perfect isn't exactly what it appears like on the outside. you were no stranger to isagi’s defects and you weren't afraid to admit that. you can't count how many times where you've had to pull him back from the rabbit hole of his burdens, the anxiety of not being good enough corroding away at his fickle heart and the prickling sensations etched deep into his skin as the sensations make his brain pound with dizziness.

there were some nights where he wouldn't be able to take his eyes off of the glowing screen of his phone, the seeds of insecurity planting themselves into his psyche as he tries his best to mask the festering feeling of trepidation that was close to erupting like a bubbling volcano.

he can feel his organs twist into knots, his hands furled into tight fists as he paces around your shared apartment while he tries to calm the overwhelming sensation of having what he believed, to be the most shittiest match ever.

it's too much–it was all too much. the incessant talking on the TV he used as background noise clashed with the loud pounding of doubt that clawed at his brain, the temperature of the apartment suddenly felt too hot, and the endless stream of comments about his recent match had his palms sweating while he tried to inhale a deep breath. fuck it was too difficult to even breathe. it felt like someone or something was stepping on his chest, like his lungs were being crushed.

where were you? where were you? where were you?

he felt like his legs could give out at any second the more he paced, fingers weaving through his dark hair in an attempt to try and ground himself but nothing seemed to work. was this finally his breaking point? fuck why did it feel like he was having a heart attack? why did it feel like his whole being was going to explode? just before he feels like his heart was going to rip from his chest cavity he felt it—no, he smelt it.

the heady fragrance of warmth and cinnamon, spiced gourmand was burned deep into the membrane of his soul as the familiar scent eased his nostrils, a soothing balm that allowed him to focus on nothing but you. his body slumps as tension melts away from his muscles like fleeting, melted sugar. his safe space was here.

he peers down to look at you, blinking away the dark spots that clouded his eyes like broken curtains as you swiftly lead him to the couch. did you just get home? he doesn't bother to ask when he already feels his shoulders relax, your hands slithering to the back of his head as you gently—silently press his ear to your chest so he can hear the rhythmic thumpthumpthump of your heart, the organ pumping you full of life.

now that he's calmed down and he's broken free of the chains of doubt that haunted his being, you were the only thing he wanted to capture, get his senses to hold onto you in a vice-like grip. your soft words of comfort, an anchored thumb lifting to stroke a silken touch to his cheek that tickled his skin, and hands that cradled his head to your chest in a reassuring embrace had his voice cracking with drops of distress.

“is that you bambi?” his words were hushed, whispered into the still air as he can finally feel whole again. breath slowing, heart slowing into a calming rhythm. you move a hand from the back of his head to cradle his cheek, lightly tilting his head up so that you can lean down and boop your noses together. an act that you two normally did to establish that the other wanted their attention. the confirmation that it was no one else but you, forces him to bring his body back into reality, his baby blue's glimmering with unshed tears that overflow from behind his eyes. his hands shakily rest onto the small of your back, fisting your sweater as the material spills out from in between his fingers.

“just me yoichi, no one else but me.”

solace. that was what it all was to him. silent solace where you stood in between the lines of heaven and earth for him when he felt like they were too blurred, grounding not only him but you. he couldn't bear to imagine the fear and uncertainty you must feel when he gets like this.

wasn't he a burden? what if all of this amounts to nothing and you’re just wasting your time on his fickle heart and soul, no one else seems to really believe in him… not understanding the sheer weight his shoulders now bear. why… why are you staying with him? he didn't even manage to let another doubt slip from his lips again before you shush him gently, cradling him close as you bury your face into the soft tufts of his hair, desperate for him to know–to feel that you would never once, and never will, think so lowly of him. you understood him, he needn't explain any further.

you both stay curled up against each other for what seemed like hours, the act of staying so close to one another while the both of you lay your burdens to one another, was similar to the act of two cats licking each other’s wounds, finding solace and interlacing fingers to create a silent promise.

you are mine, and i am yours. i’m with you because no one else makes sense.

now, to answer yuki's question,

isagi was undoubtedly a good boyfriend to you, but it was you that stayed with him and taught him that it was okay to be afraid. he wouldn't have to worry about falling into the dark tunnels of his burdens now that he knows you would be right there to tug him back into the light. and that was more than enough. all you had to do was stay.

[unhingen]

If the midnight burger pod ever release merch, one of them should be a cook book that starts off like a regular cook book that focuses on diner staples (burgers, fries, sandwiches etc) but then it transitions to mexican recipes (im thinking chile rellenos, pozole, cafe de olla). But then it transitions to weirder recipes like how to not burn coffee and how to make moonshine. Then Like the end of the cook book is like diagrams of quantum machines and math notes calculating the universe.

[drarry-lets-play]

🎮 DLP 2024 | Fic Master List 🎮

🎮 The road to Baldur's Gate 🎮

16th september, by @gnarf

Rating: Explicit Word count: 19.360k Warnings/Tags: Alternative Universe - Baldur's Gate, Abduction, Tadpole | Illithid Parasite Powers (Baldur's Gate), We'll fuck because we'll die mindset, Blow Jobs, semi public blowjob, Rimming, Bathtub Sex, Fast Paced Enemies To Lovers, everyone is horny, Poisoning, Ambushes and Sneak Attacks, Explosions Summary: Waking up in a fucking pod on a fucking Mindflayer ship with a worm dangling in front of his eye was one of the weirder experiences Harry had during his short life. Twenty-one years of absolute fuckery made him immune to most of the bullshit happening around him, but this must have made it into the top five immediately, making it into the top three the second the Mindflayer attempted to put a parasite into his eyes.

🎮 A Boyfriend Among Us🎮

17th september, by @Skotini

Rating: T Word count: 6,636 Warnings/Tags: Impostors to lovers, Humor, Getting Together, Flirting, Secret Crush, POV Harry Potter, Characters Playing Among Us (Video Game) Summary: There's something sus about one of the players in Harry's new game. And Harry's got to work it out, even if it means tailing Eltanin all over the ship. Repeatedly. He’s just doing it because he’s dedicated to justice… right?

🎮Gems 🎮

18th september, by @definitelynotafanficwriter

Rating: M Word count: 20,413 Warnings/Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Getting Together, Crime Fighting, Metaverse (Persona 5), Palaces (Persona 5), Guns, Masks, Fights, Infiltration, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Pining, Mutual Pining, Flirting, Cafe Leblanc (Persona 5), Banter, Kissing, Justice, Past, Fluff, Coffee Shop Owner Harry Potter, Shop Owner Harry Potter, POV Harry Potter, Games, Teasing, Good Draco Malfoy, Sassy, Partners in Crime, Post-Second Wizarding War with Voldemort (Harry Potter), Fans, feathers - Freeform, Harry Potter loves his life in Japan Summary: Harry Potter was done with the war. He packed all his stuff, said his goodbyes to his friends, and left for the muggle world... in Japan. It was a last minute decision, just like opening a coffee shop was. Good thing he found a last-minute supplier. Then, one fateful morning, everything went crazy and it had something to do with Draco Malfoy.

🎮 Lesson Learnt, Vault Dweller 🎮

19th september by @xrvge

Rating: E Word count: 6,343 Warnings/Tags: Post-Apocalypse, Kidnapped Draco Malfoy, Fallout Video Games References, Gun Violence, Smut, Virgin Draco Malfoy Summary: In the post-apocalyptic wasteland, lone wanderer Harry Potter happens to stumble upon a vault dweller trapped within a raider camp.  Well, there's rarely any stumbling when Harry is involved. Maybe he just loves running head first into danger. 

🎮 Mnemosyne 🎮

20th september by @thunderfiction

Rating: Mature Word count: 20,442 Warnings/Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Department of Mysteries (Harry Potter), Unspeakable Harry Potter, Unspeakable Draco Malfoy, Pensieves (Harry Potter), Memory Magic, Ancient Greece, Glamour Charms (Harry Potter), Secret Identity, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, simulated character death, Blood and Injury, Grieving Someone Who Isn't Even Dead, Presumed Dead Character, Demisexual Harry Potter, Demisexual Awakening, Swearing, POV Harry Potter, POV Third Person Limited, Past Tense, Inspired by Assassin's Creed, Drarry Let’s Play Fest 2024 Summary: Deep within the Ministry of Magic lies the Department of Mysteries — and within that, the Animus Chamber. When Harry gets recruited as an Unspeakable, he embarks on a quest into his ancestor’s memories, searching for a mystical weapon that could wreak havoc in the wrong hands. What he does not expect to find inside the Animus, though, is a mentor, a companion, a friend and a lover — especially not all wrapped up in one prickly coworker whose true identity he can never know.

[elliebyrrdwrites]

AU Dramione Drabble

The night was dark outside the cafe window. Only the glare of street lights and the occasional headlights of cars reflected off the wet asphalt provided a glimpse of what lay outside. Punctuating the whirl of a blenders or the soft growl of the espresso machine was the usual blare of sirens as an armored truck rushed by. Lightly blanketing it all, jazz music that belonged in a different time. Sometime before Hermione was born. Before the world turned into this. Sometime.

Just not this time.

It was one of those nights where life, simply, felt surreal. As if, perhaps, she could pluck herself from existence and let herself go off into the ether. Floating, floating, floating…until she could drift just outside of the atmosphere, stuck within the gravitational pull of the world. Stuck in orbit. 

There was no more rain predicted for the rest of the night, but the cafe never filled up. One, two, maybe three or four people occupied the tables at a time. When there was only a half hour left until closing, she was all alone. All alone and floating as she ran through the mechanics of cleaning behind the bar. Wiping down tables long ago left vacant. Rings of coffee and tea pressed into the pores of the wood and she didn't want to erase them. 

To her, the stains were pretty. To her, the stains were normal. 

With a sigh, she rubbed the damp, sanitized towel in a circle, mimicking the circular memory of a cup left alone while someone absorbed themself in something else. Something good, or something sad.

They vanished when she picked up the towel, just as the bell to the door sang out, pulling her attention to the entrance to find a tall figure ducking inside. Some of the cool warm glow of the cafe lights bounced off his pale blonde hair, but the rest was absorbed by the dark coat around his sharp, broad shoulders. 

His pale blue eyes met hers as he began to unbutton his coat, starting with the one at his throat. But paused when he saw the rag in her hand as she straightened. 

“Are you closed?” His eyes narrowed in, causing the rest of his features to pinch with them. 

Hermione shook her head. “Not yet.” Forced a smile. “You’re just in time.”

One of his brows lifted as his lips pulled into a frown. “I’ll have a double espresso with an inch of steamed whole milk.”

Masking her own frown, she went behind the counter, tossed the towel into the sanitizer bucket and quickly washed her hands before drying them on her green apron. She moved to the machine as he approached the counter. She eyed him over the large espresso machine. One he towered over as he watched her hands uncap the jug of milk. 

She glanced at the clock that sat over the swinging door that led into the backroom. It was nearly midnight. “Got a long night?” 

The man’s eyes kept watching her hands. Watched as she lifted the pitcher to the steam wand and pulled the lever. This machine was one of the easy, quick working kind. The espresso beans were automatically ground and packed into pods, all with the press of a button. Single. Double. Decaf. 

Steaming the milk was less automatic. She pulled the lever down once the steam wand was pushed to the side of the pitcher and the soothing whirl of steam frothing milk filled the space between them. 

With his eyes finally flicking up to hers, he replies. “It’s always a long night.” Despite his drawl, there was something about it that told her he came from money. Raised taking etiquette classes. Raised to roll his shoulders back and keep his chin up. She was raised by herself, just like the rest of those who were just like her. 

As she stopped frothing the milk, he went back to unbuttoning his coat and shrugged it off before folding it over his forearm to reveal the black uniform of the regime. On his lapel, the cobra was printed in charcoal gray. It was because of the glare of lights that she could even make it out. But she knew it well, regardless. She knew it was there. 

She lifted her chin as the shots of espresso poured into the waiting shot glasses. She reached for a paper cup. 

“For here.” His voice cut in, forcing her hand to snap back and instead grabbed a small mug from the top of the machine, where it was kept warm. With a nod, she poured the two shots of espresso into the mug before pouring the inch of steamed milk. 

She carried the mug to the counter and set it down. 

He tilted his head and eyed the perfect layer of foam. “Could you add some honey?” 

She obliged. Added a teaspoon and stirred it in. When she returned to the counter again, his eyes pinched up as he chewed on his lower lip. “Cinnamon?”

Hermione had to fight the roll of her eyes as she forced a smile created just for men like him and dusted the top of his drink with cinnamon powder. 

When she returned for the third time, he nodded in approval. 

“Anything else?” She asked as she punched his order into the computer screen. 

He curled his left hand around the mug and lifted it to his lips. “Your name.”

Her eyes jumped from the screen to find him smirking at her. It was playful and so unlike the look he had when he entered the cafe. His eyes were scanning her face. She could feel heat crawl up her neck, into her cheeks. Did he, somehow, sense what she was? His pale eyes settled onto her eyes and clung on. 

“Hermione.” She was surprised to find her voice unaffected. 

“Hermione.” He repeated it back to her, slowly, his lips kicking up a little more. “Charming.” 

She had to duck her head to hide her blush. She had to hide the shock that she was unable to hide. An officer was openly flirting with her. It was unheard of. She had always worked so hard to go unnoticed. She didn’t need any extra attention. Especially not from another man. 

He ducked his head to try and catch her gaze again. “Don’t you want to know mine?” He won and pulled her in, forcing her to shake the hair from her face and put her manufactured smile of cordial transactions back on. 

“Of course.” 

The officer tilted his head as he straightened his shoulders. “I’m officer Mafloy.” He took a sip of his espresso and hummed in appreciation. His pale gaze kept her rooted to the ground. He licked a dollop of foam from his lips and said, “but you can call me Draco.”

She knew the name, but had never put a face to it. He was the son of the notorious General Malfoy. A cruel man who sought out people like her, throwing them into jail cells and were never seen again. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Draco.” Her voice was much less affected this time. 

But Officer Mafloy looked pleased as he nodded and slid a Gold Mark across the counter for her. He said nothing as he walked away, leaving the change for her to add to the tip jar. Hermione watched as he went to a table near the window. 

He gazed out at the window while she cleaned the milk pitcher and shot glasses. Stared out at the cold, dark world that had accepted people like him, only to toss people like her aside. She lived like a sewer rat, disguised as someone like them. 

But she wasn’t even close to someone like him. 

She was born with magic in her veins. Her parents never registered her as a witch when the new regime demanded that all magical folk get organized into a new demographic. Her parents must have sensed what was to come. They must have sniffed the lie when it was announced. 

But there were others like her who were less fortunate. Many of them were her friends, growing up down the street from her. Her parents were caught sneaking one of them onto a train headed for Mexico. Many disappeared. 

Including her parents. 

Now, Hermione didn’t just live her life in fear, but in constant grief. She lost too many people. But not all of them. 

The regime was terrible. They didn’t just want to control the magical population. They wanted to control everyone. They wanted to determine who you would marry and how many children you could have. 

Hermione had plans to run away, eventually. One day.

It was time to close the shop. She approached Officer Malfoy and cleared her throat. “Did you want a refill before I shut the machine down?”

His eyes slowly dragged away from the window, and for a moment, she thought he looked lost. Like maybe he could also pluck himself from existence and float away. 

But with a blink, his eyes brightened as he shook his head. He didn’t smile, as he declined her offer and stood from his seat. She reached for the mug that was now empty. 

His hand reached out, and gently wrapped around her wrist. Something charged sparked between their skin.

Her eyes lifted from where he held on to find him staring down at his hand. She wondered if he had felt it too. Was it her magic, reacting to him? Was it the anxiety that has been slowly building inside of her chest, forcing her magic to respond? To lash out?

Officer Malfoy licked his lips and slowly dragged his eyes up to meet her. “Will you be working tomorrow night?” His voice was cool, similar to the drawl he had when he had first entered the cafe. 

She was working tomorrow. Hermione didn’t get many days off.

She nodded. 

His eyes hesitated, as if trying to root out any dishonesty in her response, before he slowly pulled his hand away. “Okay.” He stood, forcing the wooden legs of the chair to drag across the stone tiles. He avoided her eyes as he shrugged his coat back on, fastening each button with quick, deft fingers. He kept a watchful eye on the street outside as he did it. When he was done, he shoved a loose lock of hair back and turned for the door. 

She watched him, his mug still in his hand, as he paused and looked at her over his shoulder.  “I’ll see you tomorrow night, Hermione.” 

She couldn’t respond as he pulled the door open and disappeared into the night. If it wasn’t for his pale blonde hair, the night would have swallowed him up completely. 

Her eyes fell to the table where he had sat. A small curricular stain was left behind on the wood. She couldn’t bring herself to remove it. Not this one. 

She didn’t know why.

Instead, she slid her hand into her apron pocket as she walked away and thumbed the slender engagement ring tucked inside, reminding herself what it was she had to fight for.

Also posted on AO3

[wehangout]

hiii. for the kiss list, 6 or 30 😊

Send me a number and I’ll write a gallavich kiss 👄

Thank you! I went with 30 because 6 is just not my thing 😊

30. - - as comfort (I've struggled with this one, but was inspired by the to shut them up kiss here, so this continues from that.)

You took the L to the clinic just because you know Ian likes the walk from your apartment to the nearest L stop. You have to pass a bunch of little shops that sell crystals or coffee pods or customised dog accessories. Ian calls them boutiquey. You call them bougie.

The little shops don't seem to help - even on the walk home when he's seen the doc and got his meds adjusted, been given the usual don't-worry-Ian-this-is-incredibly-common-and-things-will-settle-soon speech. Even when you casually remind him of how long the last set of meds lasted which "is really fucking awesome, Ian". None of it seems to work.

Which. Obviously.

But you'd hoped it might have at least put a smile on his face.

And when he pauses outside the vegan cafe he convinced you to try once (and there was no talking you into it, but he sure as hell used his mouth), he looks at you with a look you know and hate. A look you haven't seen since he tried to give you a fucking promise ring.

You open your mouth, but he gets there first.

"Just another version of me, huh?"

You stare at him, so many thoughts and feelings running through your head that you don't know what to say. Finally, you step closer and reach up to cup his face.

"Look at me, Ian." He does, but you can tell it's grudgingly. "Clearly my vows weren't enough to make you realise I'm in this for the long haul, sickness and fucking health, so listen up. You're fuckin' stuck with me."

He sighs. "Mickey."

"Every single goddamn version of you is stuck with me, Ian. And not a single one of them will ever succeed at pushing me away."

The breath he lets out is shaky. "Shit, Mick."

Maybe outside the vegan cafe wasn't the best place for your declaration of love if the shininess of his eyes is anything to go by, but you push on, making sure he's still looking at you.

"Love you, man. And you signed that marriage certificate, so fuck you. You're stuck."

His laugh is wet and weak. "Stuck, huh?"

"Forever."

His eyes close, and for the first time that day, he looks somewhat peaceful. You lean in, smooth his hair away from his face with your other hand, and kiss his forehead, his nose, his lips. You don't give a fuck what pretentious douchebag is around to witness it, you press your mouth to Ian's in a short but lingering kiss.

He sighs into your mouth and murmurs against your lips. "Every version is stuck with you? All of them?"

You smirk into your next kiss. "Every fucking one of them."

[bluestrawberrybunny]

First time posting here in the SMG4 fandom-

Anyway, I made an Apprenticeship AU where SMG3 and SMG4 are basically forced (volun-told) to mentor 2 new meme guardians: SMG5 and SMG6.

But the thing is, when 4 was told about them, SMG1 and SMG2 didn’t exactly know where these new guardians came from, or why their pods were so damaged. So, while 1 and 2 try and figure out more about these two new guardians, 3 and 4 are basically stuck babysitting and training them.

Some basic information about the two new guardians:

SMG5 is a lot more timid, but very eager to learn all they can from 3 and 4 to be the best meme guardian they can be. They got the nickname Bunny from SMG6 because their 5 logo looks like bunny ears. He technically does have a YouTube channel and Twitch, but he never uses them, instead preferring to draw and write fanfiction with Boopkins. He does post animations to his YouTube channel every once in a while. Due to the damage to his pod, his left eye is badly damaged, causing him to be blind in that eye. Also, they got into calling 4 “Scrub” because of SMG3 and he gets a kick out of it. SMG3 has also basically adopted them as his younger sibling and is absolutely fine with 5 calling him “Brother.”

SMG6 is the one who calls 3 and 4 “Sensei,” mostly in a sarcastic manner. He’s a lot more impulsive, usually dragging 5 along with whatever crazy stuff he does. He also has a YouTube channel, which mostly focuses on gaming and let’s plays. Due to his clothes, he doesn’t show it, but he actually has 2 robotic arms due to losing them both in the crash. SMG1 and SMG2 gave them to him, but didn’t tell SMG3 or SMG4 about the arms because they didn’t deem it as vitally important. He has been banned from 3’s Coffee & Bombs due to a love for fire and explosives, which may have caused a reconstruction to be needed- He also refers to SMG4 as “Dad” whenever it is just him and 5. He has accidentally called 4 Dad to his face and wanted to bury himself in a hole immediately after. 4 is still confused about it to this day.

The two are basically inseparable, and are best friends. They also act a lot like siblings, twins to be more exact. 5 mainly attempts to keep 6 out of trouble, but he does encourage him sometimes. The two care about each other a lot, despite not seeing eye to eye on everything, especially when it comes to 3 and 4. While SMG5 looks up to their elders and wants nothing more than to make them proud, SMG6 keeps saying they’re better than their mentors, mainly due to SMG1 and SMG2 congratulating them on using their powers so well, and better than their mentors had their first time training.

Some information about SMG3 and SMG4 in this AU:

Since this takes place after “SMG4 Doesn’t Meme For 1 Second,” SMG4 is kind of still in recovery, especially since I’m adding that the whole “removal of the meme lobe” caused some nasty physical side effects for him because a meme guardian has to meme. SMG4 takes his mentorship role very seriously, but does treat 5 and 6 more like kids. He gets easily annoyed with them, specifically 6. He also puts a bunch of pressure on the two without realizing. it, which causes an… “incident,” as SMG3 calls it.

Because 5 has such a drive to make his mentors proud of him, he decided it was a good idea to head into Peach’s castle. Alone. The crew went down there to get him back home safely. But SMG3 is far more protective of 5 after that.

SMG3 also has a very… rocky relationship with SMG6. He sees a lot of his villain self in 6, which is why he is very avoidant of him, and it got worse when SMG6 blew up his cafe.

Both SMG4 and SMG3 have scars from IGBP, and 4 suffers from PTSD from the event still, but he’s gotten better at hiding it as time goes on.

And yes, there is SMG34 in this AU. 5 and 6 are working with Mario to make it canon throughout the AU.

Fic for the AU is in the works, and I might make an ask blog if people like this enough-

[wolfofcelestia]

@lisharchivez

I like my coffee pretty sweet so I'm going to assume his preferences are similar to mine

For regular brewed coffee, I usually take mine with 3-4 spoons/packs of sugar so I'd say he'd lean towards 4 sugars

But I'm willing to bet he'd be more into custom espresso drinks where he can choose different flavours to make his caffeine-intake more interesting. He always works long hours so there's going to be a lot of coffee involved. Having a plain latte every day is going to get boring fast, so he's going to have a mocha one day and a hazelnut caramel macchiato the next day

He's probably gone through the entire menu of the hospital's in-house cafe and started requesting unique combinations to the point where the staff even started putting some of his custom drinks on the menu

"Dr. Zayne's drink of the week" probably helps the hospital cafe bring in customers who aren't patients there but know him as that hot young super surgeon who's always on the news or on youtube/tiktok or memes floating around social media

Despite all that, he probably has a small espresso machine in his office, probably one that uses pods instead of a standard machine because he doesn't have time to prepare proper espresso shots when it's 3am, the cafe is closed, and he just needs a boost to make it through his last surgery

In those cases, he'd probably just drink the espresso as shots with a pack or two of sugar in it, or as espresso con panna (with just whipped cream)

He has a mini fridge/freezer in his office too, though. So when MC comes in for an appointment or just to visit him on his break, and she mentions being tired, he can make her affogato - ice cream with espresso poured over top - and they can chat for a bit

Coffee gets him through the day, sure, but coffee with MC gives him more of a boost than any espresso ever could

[str4ngr]

two peas in a pod [ isagi yoichi ]

cw: none, gn! reader, pro player! isagi

The cafe was crowded, popular locally, but business was booming today. And not without warrant, because so-called genius football player Isagi Yoichi made the idiotic choice to choose the booth seats beside the window. Hence the crowd of people outside waving and screaming at your boyfriend. Your boyfriend kept up a smile, waving and saying hi back, as fans flooded the cafe, begging for autographs and photos. 

You didn’t like how invasive his fans could be, you were proud of him, of course, but not a moment of your time could be spent with him without someone else. His manager, his team, and now his fans. A polite smile graced your face, contradicting the boiling irritation building under your skin. It wasn’t long before the crowds dwindled, from the impatience to get into the cafe for the informal meet-n’-greet, to the cafe managers own impatience with the crowd, shooing the people with his broom. 

To Isagi’s dismay, your coffee had gone cold, and the whipped cream on your pancakes deflated,

“Oh, I’m so sorry, baby, I got too caught up with my fans,“ His eyes exude regret, sadly glancing between you and the deflated whipped cream. You couldn’t help but soften, your pursed lips squeezing into a smile, one that you resisted. 

“What did you think would happen if you chose a window seat.“ He opened his mouth, but was quickly cut off by you, “in the city, too?” his face turns pink and his head turns away. 

“You’re such an idiot.“ You sigh, grinning at the magenta that burned his face, his ears tinted a matching colour. Nervously, he looked back up to you, irresistibly forming into big, round puppy eyes. Without missing a beat his turns back, grabbing his fork and knife to cut into his, now cold, pancakes, too flushed to even look you in the eye. you chuckle as you rest your chin in you palm, watching as his recklessly yanks his knife through his blueberry pancakes, and pouring far too much syrup, even for his extensive sweet tooth. 

“C’mon baby, you know that I can’t really control that...“

“Sure, but you can definitely can control how you use a pancake machine.“ His ears turn bright pink once more, 

“Oh, shut up about that for once! I swear I didn’t mean to break it!“ You laugh at his response, the pout on his lips, and his attempt at a glare, even though you knew he could never bring himself to glare at you. 

“I’ll shut up if you give me a piece,“ You wave your fork in his direction, grinning at his childish possessiveness to his plate. 

This is what you loved, the dates where it was just quiet giggling, just the two of you, forcing yourselves to whisper as you made stupid choices and stupider jokes. You loved and you missed it. So never will this moment leave your memory, every minuscule detail of this moment engraved in you head as you laugh with Isagi when he breaks away from his childish demeanor, shoving the syrup-lathered slice of pancake in your mouth. 

“You are such and idiot” you repeated, mouth laced in sugar as you finished you piece, he replied, beaming, 

“Maybe, but I’m your idiot.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

i’ve got so many bllk fics in my drafts omg

karasu next☺☺

ao3 - ScarletEvening

[nightlilly0110]

Phantom Thieves (and Sojiro) Coffee Preferences

Morgana: Milk. That’s it.

Ryuji: Hot chocolate. His hatred for coffee outweighs his dislike of sweets. You give him coffee, even with cream and sugar, and he will accuse you of trying to poison him. He’s lucky Boss likes him.

Ann: Probably flavoured coffee. Which flavour? Any of them, with whipped cream and some sort of drizzle on top. Drinks tea lattes like they’re going out of style. Prefers boba but will not admit that to Sojiro for as long as she lives. Doesn’t hate actual coffee but not her absolute favourite.

Yusuke: Whatever he can afford/is being offered to him.

Makoto: Her and Sae have one of those pod coffee machine and are constantly in debate as to which brands are the best. Often have this conversation when Joker is right there. Literally will drink whatever will keep her awake throughout the day. Doesn’t care what’s in it or how good it tastes.

Futaba: Her mom’s favourite blend and nothing else. Will drink it black or with cream and sugar, it doesn’t matter to her.

Haru: Didn’t like coffee at first but since she’s planning on opening a cafe, she needs to figure out what blends go with certain foods. Her and Joker are working their way through Leblanc’s various types of coffee, to Sojiro’s dismay. Cream and sugar are a must in her opinion.

Joker: Became a coffee snob after Sojiro taught him how to make coffee. Has a list of all the types of coffee in Leblanc organized from favourite to least favourite, further broken down into categories no one else has the attention span to follow. After explaining it, please do not ask him if he likes his coffee black or with sugar and cream - he has a whole separate presentation for that. Has very big Opinions and is constantly seconds away from breaking out The Chart TM.

Akechi: Leblanc house blend. Black. Preferably brewed by Joker. If there is so much as a single grain of sugar in it, he will Know.

Sojiro: Will give you a very obscure brand/blend. Will also inform you of the exact date, time, and coordinates he last drank it, and forever has a vendetta because the seller of those particular beans told him he would not sell to “some janky cafe in the middle of an alley.” Is of the opinion that flavoured coffee is okay “as long as you do it right” but also claims to have never had a good flavoured coffee. Suspicious.

[oldfarmhouse]

Coffee is such a massive part of life for so many people, but it can be incredibly unsustainable in many ways.

Here are 5 ways you can be more sustainable in your coffee consumption:

☕ Choose sustainably sourced beans for home and support local cafes who do the same

☕ Opt for reusable coffee filters

☕ Try a French press or Moka pot

☕ Grab a reusable pod if you own a pod machine

☕ Keep a reusable cup in your bag for cafe trips

Do you have any other sustainable coffee tips to add?

📷 @thequickjourney via @coffeesock

[persepinas]

It’s like a sucker punch straight to my heart: chapter 9 (Loustat coffee shop au)

Firstly, I want to thank everyone for the incredible comments you have left. They're so kind and well-meaning, and I literally adore every single one of you. Thank you for consistently coming back and indulging in this little caffeinated universe I have created for myself. I always mean to respond, but I become overwhelmed. Anxiety is not my friend! I will let you know I do interact and respond more at my tumblr so if you ever want to come on over and send me a message, I'll reply. My tumblr is linked at the end notes of every chapter.

Secondly, it took me longer to update because I lost half this chapter. Losing it pretty much devastated me, and I wasn't able to write for a while. Thankfully, I finally pushed through, and now I love this chapter more than the original I had written.

Thirdly! This chapter is explicit. Basically, happy birthday, Lestat. Enjoy all the sex. You too, Louis.

I would also like to add that I have updated my Cafe du Lac playlistappropriately and you should begin with Rihanna's song Birthday Cake to get into my headspace while writing this chapter.

Also, I did create a series for Suckerpunch because I wrote a one shot set in this universe.

And finally, here is my coffee recipe:

White chocolate peppermint mocha (it is tastier than what I get at Starbucks.) Use your machine of choice! I used my Nespresso. Double espresso pod (you can use however much you want. I just prefer more caffeine) Place white chocolate on the bottom of your mug Brew the espresso into the mug until it has finished, then mix together. I use my handheld mixer to do this because I never do it right with a spoon. Add in milk of choice. I use oat milk and shake it up real nice because it tastes creamiest this way. Add in 2tsp peppermint syrup I then make some frothed oat milk, pour it on top. If you would like, garnish with crushed up candy canes. Enjoy! <3

here it is:

suckerpunch (Lestat’s version): Part four. (6730 words)

[lieblingspulli]

Need Something? - SKZ

W.C: 2.3k

Seungmin x Reader

Summary: Two days converge into one as you and Seungmin unwind for the day!

Masterlist!

SKZ Masterlist

Note: Hey! It’s been a while but I got inspired by my extreme procrastination of my schoolwork to make something. I’ve been just itching to write about super mundane things tbh, I’ve been just so busy, I’m appreciating the mundane much more lately. Hope you all like it <3

Seungmin was extremely relaxed after his daily coffee run. If there was anything to start his morning peacefully, it was nicely flavored americano and an empty cafe. Today would be a good day, Seungmin resolved to himself. He would get his choreo memorized, sing some demos for Chan today and maybe even go live for a lunchtime mukbang session. Today would be a great day in fact. He felt so at peace that he felt he could do anything today, even the laundry that had been sitting in the corner of his room for like a week at home. Today would be good. 

You personally felt victimized today. Nothing like sleeping through the most important meeting of the quarter to start your morning. You spent all of last night typing out your important charts and notes, Seungmin couldn’t even lure you into bed with warm cuddles and extra attention.

Despite this, Seungmin had kissed you to sleep endlessly when you did join him at an early 3 in the morning. You felt so bad for keeping him awake, but Seungmin didn’t have an important quarterly report to type, you did. Resigning to a stern lecture from your coworkers, you let the morning do its thing. You used the last of the coffee pods that Seungmin left you and fed your tiny, old dog before hurrying out the door. Let’s get this day over with, you thought. 

-

Right before you left work for the day, you sent Seungmin a text.

Just getting out of work. When do u get home?🥲-Y

Almost immediately Seungmin answered. 

Maybe around 7. :( Srry bby -S

Can you squeeze out an early send off from chris??? Tell him I broke my finger -Y

You’re funny. Let me work my magic ;) -S

Lmk how that goes, if not just tell my chrissy I said hi and he still owes me some nachos from when he ate mine -Y 

Some time went by as you waited for a reply. You watched the fall colors of the trees pass you by as the bus took you to your homestop. Something about fall calmed your nerves. Luckily, the quarterly meeting had been postponed because the division manager had a cold, which totally saved your butt. You sighed and felt a vibration from your phone. 

Chan$$ venmoed you 10 usd 

You grinned and sighed. Opening up your messages with Seungmin, you shook your head and laughed. 

Why did chan send me 10 dollars in usd 🤔 -Y

bro???? -Y

He said because you keep pestering him for an american dish -S

Tell him I’ll enjoy it very much thxxx  -Y

He also said you have to share with him when you get them -S

Why dont you just text him urself omg -S

You just sent him an emoji with your tongue sticking out. 

Oh hey did he let you out tho? -Y

No -S

We have a weird schedule today bc of the morning show tm -S

Srry bb -S

Its OK. have fun xoxo -Y

You pulled the bus signal and gathered your stuff. The time on your phone read 4:26. Technically speaking, you should be at work, but was let out early due to the manager being gone and the meeting had everyone done with work. Maybe you would cook some lasagna according to your mom’s recipe. Or take Luna (your fossilized age dog) out on a walk. You didn’t really seem to know what to do because of this peculiar on-edge feeling. 

It was peaceful around you as you hopped off the bus. An ajumma was reading her book on the bus stop bench. A 16 year old student and his friend were arguing over a bag of chips. A business man was walking presumably home from work. 

You pulled your coat a little tighter around you as you started to walk in the direction of yours and Seungmin’s place. The cold air had picked up in a bit of a breeze as you passed the corner store which was next to the salon that was owned by your neighbor down the hallway. Eventually you made it to your building and walked into the warm main hallway. 

Seungmin’s schedule was unexpectedly busy today. Despite his peaceful start, the choreographer made some changes to the new dance they were learning for a unit video with Leeknow and Jeongin. Leeknow, being the particular dancer he always was, made the choreo hour seem like 3. Afterwards, Chan said his demo tracks still weren’t ready but he could send one of them over for a listen. This left Seungmin a bit of freetime before lunch, so he decided to walk to the new chocolate store that opened down the street and buy you some mocha and espresso choco bites. With his goodies in hand, Seungmin proceeded to go about his day as normal, except for the fact that Jisung was freaking out when he met with Seungmin for lunch over how his recording session went terribly and he needed to reschedule soon because the tracks needed to be edited soon. All of Jisung’s stress made its way to Seungmin and started to give him an icky feeling. The best he could do was offer some comfort to Han by offering to help him on the vocals when he had a chance. This seemed to help him a bit. Not soon after, You texted Seungmin and this put him at ease. Running off after lunch, Seungmin found Chan in his studio working on the aforementioned demos. Trying to guilt trip his most loyal leader, Seungmin found himself getting an apologetic “Sorry min but the schedule is packed after 3:30. It's best to stay the day I think” from Chan. Welp. 

From here on, it was utter chaos. When Seungmin got to the group meeting room for a debrief on the morning schedule, no one but the manager was there. Everyone was late, Hyunjin didn’t have anything but a coffee and his phone because he forgot his laptop at home, Jeongin was sniffing because he was recovering from a cold, Leeknow was late because of a dance practice, Chris and Changbin were late because of the demo fixing, Jisung walked in with a second lunch, and Felix just lost track of time. Who knows what happened after that.  

In between song rehearsals, Seungmin replied to your text and apologized for the continuing schedule. He sensed your day hadn’t gone according to plan but he really couldn’t do much at the moment. Jisung was pestering him to help him with some vocals and he reluctantly agreed to a bit of help after the rehearsal. So much for going home early. 

After he grabbed his bag to head to Jisung’s studio room, he texted you again to make sure you were okay. 

Are you bored without me yet -S

Seungmin swung the door open and started slowly heading down the dimly lit hallway to let Jisung catch up. 

No Luna decided to spit up her lunch. Also the coffee machine broke -Y

My beloved coffee machine 🙁 -S

Seungmin got startled when he felt some hands on his shoulder. Jisung had caught up. 

“What did you think about that rehearsal huh?” Jisung chuckled and readjusted his hoodie over his head. “Personally, I don’t know if I’ll survive tomorrow.” He shook his head and grimaced. 

“Ah, it's fine. It’s strange because everyone was late but tomorrow won’t be that bad. I need a vacation after though.” Seungmin chuckled and stuffed his phone in his back pocket before heading into the elevator after Jisung. 

“Bro I’ve got so many tracks to finish and turn in, it’s insane.” 

“Tell me about it, I’ve got a bunch of people asking me for help.” Seungmin laughed and nudged at Jisung teasingly. Jisung got a bit embarrassed and slapped his arm playfully.

“I’m looking forward to the weekend.” Jisung sighed. 

“Me too.” Seungmin agreed wholeheartedly and followed his companion into the studio hallway.

-

Finally, 7pm hit the clock. You quickly set the table and hopped in the shower. All the unease in your stomach had made you do odd chores around the house to get your mind off of the feeling. You made your homemade lasagna, did 2 loads of laundry, vacuumed the whole house, and cleaned out the fridge. Still, you felt unfinished. The whole day at work, people had been asking for your assistance on different tasks and now that you did jobs for yourself, it didn’t feel satisfying enough. Additionally, you tried making your favorite caramel latte but the machine broke. You sighed as you washed your hair. After you got out and was on step 3 of your skincare routine, you heard the front door open and close, signaling the return of your boyfriend. 

Seungmin took the choco bites out of his bag before setting it on its designated hook in the hallway. Luna ran up to Seungmin and excitedly pawed at his shoes for pets. Suengmin smiled and crouched down to pet her before talking sweet nonsense despite her being a dog. 

You walked out from the bedroom, careful not to startle Seungmin and snickered a bit. 

“And here I thought I was the one going to get extra attention.” You teased. 

Seungmin stood up and waddled over to you with arms open wide. 

“Babyyyyyyyy. I missed you so” He said in his best baby voice. You adored Minnie. “Don’t strangle me Min.” You pouted. 

“I’m sorry, I just had a weird day.” You could hear his visible pout and you rubbed his back.

“Did you need something then? A kiss? Some food?” Seungmin held you out at arm’s length and got suddenly very serious.

“That is the first time someone has asked me that all day.” You giggled at his distraught face, knowing he was pouting about not getting enough attention. 

“Aw, my poor baby boy didn’t get enough love from his friends did he?” You smiled teasingly. He dramatically nodded yes and then seemed to have an epiphany. 

“Oh! I have something for you!” He ran over to the table and picked up a fancy yellow pastry box before opening them and stretching them out to you. 

“Aw, baby, you didn’t have to.” You picked up a chocolate cookie looking thing and bit into it. You expected a cruncy texture, but got more of a caramel bite of brownie spongieness. You sighed in pleasure and closed your eyes to savor the taste. 

“Mmmm! This is so good. Where did you get these from?” You opened your eyes. 

“There’s a new pastry shop by the JYP building! I thought you could use a pick me up today.” He stared at you excitingly, happy that you were happy. He happily walked back to the table and set down the box before sauntering to the kitchen. 

“Thanks Min, I really appreciate it. I needed the surprise.” He looked back at you and curiously asked what was wrong. 

“Ah, I just had a bad start to the morning. My meeting got delayed and I’ve been feeling weird all day.” You walked to the counter and began to plate some lasagna. “I did make my favorite dish for dinner though.” You felt arms wrap around you waist and a chin prop on your shoulder. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do more, baby. Do you need something from me? Sometimes you just need someone to take care of you to feel better.” Suengmin said sweetly. You leaned your head back against him. 

“You’re too nice to me you know that right?” You sighed and got back to serving the food.

“No, I’m so serious right now. I feel like everyone asks so much of us that we don’t just get to take care of eachother.” He helped you carry the dishes to the table as he maintained the conversation. 

“So many people asked me for favors today. I realized how much I just wanted to go home and listen to someone ask about my day. I feel like that would make you feel better. So, I’ll do just that!” He happily exclaimed this last point and pulled out your chair for you to sit down in. You smiled and puckered your lips for a kiss. He happily obliged. You sweetly kissed him and said, “Min, all I want from you is your attention and your cuddles.” You giggled. He smiled and quickly grabbed some juice from the fridge before running to the table to sit down like a child. 

“Okay, tell me about your day. I want to know everything. I also want to know what I can do to make you feel better. Think of it as a master plan. Plan Y/N: Make Y/N feel loved and appreciated for all they do for everyone.” He motioned with his hands across the space in front of him. 

You shook your head and began from the very beginning. Seungmin listened the whole time and attentively ate while making agreeable sounds. Watching you be so animated about a normal day was so attractive to him, he thought to himself that he would spend all his days like today if he could return to you and listen to you speak. As dinner winded down, he held your hand across the table and spoke about his schedule that day. Although he was being pestered all day with favors, he felt that this one task that was given to him by you would never be an annoying one. He would gladly ask if you needed something from him if it meant giving you extra love and attention.

[writersbloxx]

"Home"

Where the people paint their houses different colors so they can pretend they aren’t all built the same way. One is blue, another a faded yellow, or even a dull green. But the roofs all slope in the same spots and the windows line up in the same rows.

Where the trees stand thin and sparse and the leaves can’t decide whether they want to be green or brown. But if you look at the front lawns of each house you can see the expensive and meticulously arranged shrubs and flowers. Freshly manicured grass so green it looks like they were watered with paint cans. Their trees are neatly trimmed and proudly wear their branches heavy with leaves green down to the stem. The trees in town look sick in comparison. In the fall, leaves plummet in clusters blown through the streets by the cold wind. They crunch and crumble into dust under our feet.

Even the clouds seem to line up in an orderly fashion. Large chunks laid out next to each other with the occasional white wisps stark against baby blue. In the morning it’s dark. The sky isn’t as dark as it would be at night, but it looks as if someone reached out towards the sun and dimmed the lights.

The stay-at-home moms don their bright tracksuits and their visors and speed walk in small pods. They almost-jog just off the sidewalk enough to not be in the street but keeping mind to still be an inconvenience to the drivers on their way to work or to drop off the kids at school. Once they feel as though they’ve worked up a sweat they walk to town to get coffee and bagels while gossiping about other moms and their children or complaining about the ugly new flowers planted in front of the school. I always made a point of avoiding walking by the nail salons or cafes at this time even on weekends. Before school lets out at midday they head home to keep an eye on the nanny who keeps an eye on their children.

[heleenss]

Script

Two friends, Jess and Chloe, are sitting at a table by the window of a cafe. Both girls are sipping on their coffees and have a conversation. 

Jess: This place is so nice oh my god, I can’t believe I’ve never been here I’m going to come here all the time now.

Chloe: Oh really, you say that about every place we go. But it is cute! Definitely our new spot - I mean the fall vibes are everything.

Jess: Speaking of fall vibes, I think I’m going to dye my hair red tomorrow. It’s fall and I’m just feeling the urge - plus, I want to cut it a little. Maybe just a few inches. 

Chloe: Red!? That would look amazing on you! Are you thinking like full-on fiery red or something more auburn?

Jess: I’m thinking something subtle but still bold, you know. Here let me show you my inspiration. Jess pulls out her phone to show Chloe a picture of the red hair she wants. 

Chloe: Do it! Fall is the perfect excuse to change things up. You know I’m always down for a hair transformation.

The next day after Jess dyes her hair. Chloe visits to see the new hair and to catch up. 

Chloe: Knocks on the door. I’m here! Come quick open the door I want to see.

Jess: Opens the door and creeps behind, hiding her hair. It's bad I don’t want to show you.

Chloe: Oh come on! It can’t be that bad. You have to show me, I didn’t come all this way for nothing.

Jess: Fine! But don’t laugh. Steps out from the door to reveal her hair

Chloe: Jaw drops. Well….

Jess: It's bad. I knew it.

Chloe: No… I mean yea it's bad but not unfixable. The red just did not want to stay subtle in your hair. Laughing. Wait you know what would cheer you right up. Olive Garden unlimited pasta right now!

Jess: What? Right now?

Chloe: Yeah! I just got a notification - today’s the last day for the unlimited pasta deal.

Jess: But… we have work. I don’t know.

Chloe: Work? We can squeeze pasta before work. We’ll be fine. 

Jess: But you know how we get. Once we’re there, it’s like... three hours of endless carbs, and then we’re in a food coma. Last time I could barely function after. Remember?

Chloe: True. But this week is pretty chill for me. Very calm compared to last week. I’m still recovering from that test, but I’m glad it's over. I deserve a pasta break. And you deserve it for the way your hair is looking.

Jess: You deserve pasta for surviving? 

Chloe: Exactly! Plus, I need to do groceries this weekend anyway. I’m running out of everything. Ugh. But did you see? I got new Nespresso pods, so I’m stocked for coffee emergencies at least.

Jess: You always find a way to convince me. Fine. Olive Garden it is. We’ll just be strategic about it. Small portions, no food coma.

They both get up, gathering their bags, and head toward the door with excited grins on their faces.

The end.