#de-licious

[ohmydais]

I feel like no ever talks about how you can make a spaghetti sandwich using garlic bread

[heirofnepeta]

dr pepper sucks

Blocked and reported

[mariasficrecs]

BITCH WTF?!?! are u in my head?!?! needed this today also don’t know why im just seeing this but holy shit this was literally the single hottest thing ive ever read

ur a genius

im s(creaming) this just changed the trajectory of my morning! so thank u

thinking about this with hotch… he’ll always give you princess treatment and when he sees you’re too riled up about anything (whether you’re in the bau or have your own job) he’ll just take matters into his own hands

stress relief

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: aaron helps you unwind after a stressful morning

content warnings: smut, 18+, minors do not interact!, established relationship, stress, oral (f receiving), face riding, rough sex, praise, breeding kink in form of dirty talk (mentions of birth control), overstimulation, choking, squirting, multiple orgasms, spanking, use of nicknames, aaron being a good boyfriend.

word count: 3.2k

a/n: this is the link anon meant to send! it somehow didn’t send w their request >:/

Aaron has always been able to read you like a book, even before you two had started dating.

He always said that it was because he was a profiler, but really it was just because he knew you. He could tell whenever you were upset, stressed or exhausted. No matter how hard you tried to hide it.

So it didn’t come as a surprise to him when he walks into your shared home office and immediately picks up on the stress you’re feeling.

“Sweetheart?” He asks, giving the wood of the door a soft knock.

You don’t answer, eyes focused on the screen of your laptop in front of you.

“Y/N.”

“Hm?”

Your head snaps up, and what Aaron subconsciously expects to be greeted with is quickly dethroned by a plain “Oh, hi.” He doesn’t blame you, though.

It doesn't take a profiler to know what you're feeling. Your brows are pinched tightly together, leg bouncing rapidly, shoulders hunched and—the most patent feature—your eyes a teary, bright red.

He quickly rounds your side of the desk, every tired bone in him replaced with the urgency to check up on you.

"Sweetheart," he sets a gentle, careful hand on your shoulder. "What's wrong?"

The tenderness in his voice and touch is enough to make your eyes water again. You throw your face into your hands before Aaron can see them actually spill and a sob shakes your body.

"Honey--"

"No." You state, your voice hoarse and muffled. You take a long sniff and wipe at your eyes before focusing on your laptop screen again. "I have to finish this."

Aaron glances down at your screen, brows furrowed in concern when he realizes what you're working on. Your screen is open to several browsers and files, your research paper for your final assignment open in the very middle.

He sighs internally. Of course. He remembers you telling him that your professor was a stickler for these assignments and a strict grader. He recalls the many times you've cried to him about the harsh words he'd tell you when he followed up with you in emails and all the times he'd find you passed out on this very desk, overworked from trying to finish everything.

"Sweetheart, didn't you say that this isn't due until a couple of months?" He tries to ask nonetheless, kneeling down next to your chair.

You sniffle, throwing up the hand that rests on the top of your head, exasperated, "Yes, but I need to make sure it's good enough."

“It will be.” Aaron says, wheeling the chair around so that you were facing him. He feels his heart pang at the sight of your tear-stained face, “Sweet girl, everything you turn in is exceptional. Don’t let one professor ruin how hardworking of a person you are.”

A single tear runs down your cheek and Aaron is quick to catch it with the pad of his thumb. His hand comes to caress your face when you don’t say anything else, though he knows you know he was a point.

Aaron pulls you to your feet gently and encouragingly, pressing you flush against his chest and rubbing his hands up and down your back. He can feel how tense you are, your stress practically radiating from your body.

An idea begins to form in his head at your tensity, your face buried in his neck as you practically melt into his touch.

He presses a kiss to the side of your head, hand sweeping at your hair, “C’mon, sweet girl,” he whispers. “I know what will make you feel better.”

You sniffle, following him regardless your confusion.

He leads you out of the shared office and into your shared bedroom. He doesn’t bother turning on the big light of the room, carefully guiding you inside and turning on the lamp that rests on the nightstand on his side of the bed.

Aaron sheds his suit jacket, discarding it somewhere on the floor haphazardly along with his tie and taking a seat at the very edge of the front of the bed. His hands come to your hips, pulling you forward so that you were settled in between his legs.

You follow his motions, lips set in a soft pout as your hands come to rest on his shoulders, "Aaron, what are you--"

You're cut off by the muffled sound of his back falling against the mattress, his legs hanging off with you still standing between them.

"Sit on my face."

Aaron can see the way your face heats up, can feel it. He knew you were shy when it came to sitting on his face so he could eat you out, but he didn't care for it.

The only thing on his mind was helping you destress and making you feel good.

"W-What?" Despite your confusion, you still find yourself squeezing your thighs together, already feeling the slick begin to pool at your panties.

"You heard me, sweetheart," Aaron's voice is gentle yet somewhat demanding, encouraging but not wavering or relenting. "I want you to sit on my face."

"But... why?"

Aaron chuckles. You were too cute, uncertainty drawn on your puffy, tear-stained features. He sits up from his position, hands settling on your hips, "Because I want to make you feel good."

You stare, nibbling at your bottom lip while he caresses your sides, your already short pajama bottoms riding up each time his hands went up.

He gives your skin one final squeeze before laying back down, giving you that stare he always gave you when he wanted you to do something and do it now.

"Shorts and panties off. Then sit."

His tone immediately jumps you into action, hands pulling both your shorts and already soaked panties off shyly. You straddle his lap, whimpering as the cold air hits your pussy as you rise to his chest.

"Aaron..."

He cuts you off with a tender hush, "Sit, honey. I want to make you feel good until you forget all about that paper."

With both a huff and a pout, you bashfully crawl towards his face. Your breaths come out in stutters and gasps when your bare pussy rubs against his soft yet defined chest.

You stop at the very top of his torso, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt hesitantly.

“Aaron, are you—”

Aaron cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence, evoking a wrangled cry of surprise from you when he finishes dragging you down until you’re sat flush on his face.

You both groan in unison, your hands shooting out to grip the headboard in front of you as his tongue immediately shoots out to lick a long stripe up your folds.

"Aaron!"

He pays no mind to your cries and digs his fingers into the skin of your hips so that you couldn’t move away from him. You writhe against him but his tongue expertly laps at your sopping pussy, soaking his face in the process. He begins eating at you like a starved man, wasting no time. Like his only purpose was to make your mind go blank.

Which, technically, it was.

And your mind does just that, all earlier protests and diffidence long gone. Your head is thrown back in a growing haziness as the feeling of Aaron’s hot mouth on your cunt infiltrates your every sense.

He laps at your entrance, teasing and prodding before kissing and lapping your folds. His nose brushes at your clit occasionally with each dip of his head and you could feel your stomach clench each time.

“Taste so sweet, pretty girl,” he hums, the vibrations sending chills up your spine and making your pussy flutter around his face. “So good for me, baby. So good.”

Your cries of utter pleasure fill the room and a cast of sweat slowly begins to build on your body and forehead, the heat from below extending everywhere. You lift the hem of the shirt you were wearing, one of Aaron's old, practically raggedy, university shirts, and tug it over your head.

Aaron watches you toss it somewhere in the room, hungry gaze focusing on the lacy lounge bra that adorned your breasts. It's soon easily discarded alongside his shirt, your tits coming into a perfect view from above him.

Both of his hands leave your hips to caress your tits and you whine. The skin of his slightly rough palms envelop them in his hands, squeezing gently yet possessively all whilst maintaining his attack on your pussy.

“Aaron, mmh—fuck,” you wrap your hands around his wrists, gripping them tightly for support. You lean backwards, further enveloping his face in your dripping folds.

Aaron grunts and the vibrations only edges you further on; the touch of his hands on your tits, his thumb and pointer finger twisting and tugging at both of your sensitive nipples turning everything into a pleasure-filled haze.

“Gonna cum, pretty girl? Gonna cum on my face?” Aaron asks, voice and raspy from below. It makes the coil in your belly tighten even more.

“Yeah, y-yes, yes,” you mumbles, eyes closed and legs shaking from where they cage his head on either side.

Aaron keeps his eyes trained on you, your fucked out form clearly close to snapping as your hips began to grind back and forth against his soaked face.

“Go ahead, sweetheart. Cum on my face.”

A certain bite on your clit is what sends you into a frenzy, the tightness in your lower belly snapping as your orgasm washes over you. You babble mindless, incoherent things, body shaking and grip tightening on Aaron’s arms.

Aaron doesn’t relent, though. His tongue laps at your release eagerly and purposefully whilst giving more encouraging squeezes to your breasts before sliding down to your ass and taking handfuls of the flesh just the same.

“Aaron, Aaron, baby—!”

You moan loudly when he doesn’t stop, your body stuttering as he continues to eat you out with such fervor that you wonder if he’s still doing this for you.

You’re proven wrong, though, when his encouraging words begin to work you up for another orgasm despite barely coming down from the first one.

“That’s it, angel. One more on my mouth,” he says, voice rough from the misuse. “This is all about you, take what you need.”

Aaron’s name echoes through the room in high-pitched whines and shaky breaths, his lips still sucking harshly on the sensitive bundle of nerves.

It only takes a couple more gentle bites and sucks for your second high to wash over you again, eagerly and dumbly riding it out on his face with your eyes rolled back into your head. Each harsh grind makes Aaron groan into your arousal and he soaks in the way you make a mess out of his face.

Your breaths are shallow as you slow your hips to a stop, chest heaving. You move to settle yourself on Aaron's lap again, whining when the dull ache shoots through your sore thighs.

Aaron lets out a low grunt when your bare, still soaked cunt brushes against his painfully hard dick, the outline of his boner potent even through the slacks he was still wearing. It didn't help that he could still taste you with just a lick of his lips, his face slick.

He brings a hand to push your hair back from your sweaty forehead, cooing at you when you preen tiredly under his touch. "So good, sweetheart, did so good. You still with me?"

You nod, still attempting to catch your breath.

"Good. Means we're not done yet."

He doesn't give you a chance to protest before he's maneuvering you around so that you were off his lap and settled on to your knees. You whine when your front hits the mattress, your back arching instinctively as Aaron positions himself behind you.

Your pussy glistens even in the low lighting of the bedroom, your juices dripping down to your thighs and onto the bed. It makes Aaron undress himself all the faster, discarding his clothes in a pile before walking over to you and dragging you near the edge of the bed.

You gasp at the feeling of his cock pressing against your slick folds. You’re already nearing overstimulation yet you can’t help yourself when you push back against him.

“Aaron…” you mewl, turning your head to look at him.

Aaron lets out a low chuckle at the sight of you: eyes red and puffy and lips turned downwards into a pout, all topped off with a tear-stained face and a fucked out expression.

He loves it, loves that the effect you have on him equally matches the effect he has on you. And he especially loves the way his plan to get you all needy and cock drunk in order make you forget about your schoolwork is working.

He sets his hands on the globes of your ass, thumbs spreading your folds apart. He groans at the sight of you clenching and unclenching around nothing and raises a hand to land a stiff smack against your flesh, earning himself another whine.

You fist at the bedsheets and let out a wanton sob that sounds somewhat similar to a choked plead.

Aaron shushes you gently, grabbing his length in his hand and slapping it against your drenched folds. He smirks when your body jerks and stutters from the action, and he mockingly coos at you before lining himself up against your entrance.

A low yet high-pitched moan emits from your lips as the girth of his length slowly begins to split you open and stretch you out. You bury your face in the covers, gripping the fabric like a lifeline while your velvety walls envelop him completely.

Aaron’s hips slap against your ass as he bottoms out and he has to take a breath in order to stop himself from cumming right then and there.

“So good, sweetheart. So tight. You okay, my love?”

You whine but nod, your face rubbing against the comforter and surely leaving a trail of your spilled tears behind.

Spank! Spank!

You cry out, your ass stinging and burning up from where his hand lands.

"Words, honey. Use your words."

"Y-Yes! S-So good, so good." You let out a stuttered gasp when he pulls out only to slam himself back in and begin fucking you with a slow but deep, hard pace.

Aaron’s fingers dig into the side of your hips that he’s sure there’ll be bruises there in the morning. He delivers another harsh spank to your flesh and watches in delight as it ripples under his palm before speeding up his pace.

You’re a crying mess from below him, mouth open as sweet sounds pour out from your salivating lips. Your noises of pleasure mix in with the sound of skin slapping against skin repeatedly and harshly, each thrust sending you further up the bed.

Aaron groans from above you, feeling your pussy grip him like a vice each time he shoves himself back in to your hole. He knows he was doing this for you but, fuck, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't having the time of his life buried deep inside you.

"F-Fuck," you wail, feeling your legs shake violently as another orgasm begins to approach. "'M so close, s-so close, please."

"Yeah? Gonna cum around my cock, baby?"

You nod feverishly, unable to form any words with the way the tip of his cock prods at your cervix with each thrust. He was so big, so thick that it felt like you were being impaled in the hottest way possible.

It only takes a couple more thrust for you to be sent into a spluttering mess, your body convulsing around him violently as more saliva drools from your mouth with each muddled, vacuous string of words.

Aaron doesn't slow his pace even as you cry out for him to stop, tightening his grip on your hips as you try to run away from him.

"Uh-uh, honey," he tuts, reaching in front of him and grabbing a fistful of your hair, pulling you up so that you were sitting on your shaking knees. "Not finished with you yet. Gonna fill up this pussy, fill up my girl with my cum."

You can't do anything but moan in his hold, letting out a choked sound when his bicep comes around your neck to put you in a headlock but without too much force. Your head rests thrown back against his shoulder as he mumbles dirty, yet sweet praises into your ear, his voice sending further chills down your spine.

"You want that, baby? Want me to fill up this pussy with my seed?"

You moan loudly at his words, nodding as best as you can with the way he was holding you.

Aaron knew you were on the pill, knew you took it consistently and religiously because a baby was not in the books for the two of you. But, still, he loved the way your pussy always clenched harshly around his cock with this type of talk.

"Yeah, gonna fill up my girl's belly so that you don't have to worry about anything else besides keeping my come inside that pretty pussy."

He sneaks a hand down your stomach, spreading your folds with his finger before starting an attack on your swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves.

You scream out, hands shooting out to wrap around both of his forearms. Another coil in your lower belly begins to form, this one stronger and more urgent than any other one you've had this night. Your nails dig into Aaron's skin and you mewl when he grunts directly in your ear.

Aaron nudges your face with the back of his wrist so that you were facing him, pulling you into a messy kiss as he continues swiping his finger around your clit until you're an even shakier mess.

"A-Aaron," you pull away, "I-I think 'm g-gonna--"

You don't even get to finish your sentence before you feel yourself gush around his cock, your release squirting everywhere. The bed is immediately soaked, the spluttering juices not stopping even as Aaron slows down his pace on your clit.

"Shit, baby," Aaron whispers, fastening his pace as his own release sputters in ribbons of white inside you.

You whimper, body trembling violently as his movements come to a rugged stop. You slump against the bed when he lets go of you, paying no mind to the way you lay in your own mess as exhaustion consumes your body.

Aaron rubs at your ass soothingly, slowly pulling out of you and cursing under his breath as his come spills out of your soaked folds.

"So good, my love. You did so good for me, sweetheart," He smiles fondly when you hum at his praises, leaning forward to press sweet kisses to the side of your face. "Don't fall asleep, pretty girl. Gonna go run us a bath, okay?"

You nod, eyes already closing.

Aaron chuckles, brushing your hair out of your face before standing up to get the bath ready.

"Oh, sweetheart," he calls out, stopping at the threshold of your room. "What were you doing before I came home?"

"Don' remember," you mumble, nestling into the sheets.

Aaron smiles.

[t00thpasteface]

more doll klothes klinger, this time with rainbow high's olivia woods doll. malicious compliance? more like DE-licious!

[allastoredeer]

TBH I love the fact that Hazbin Hotel's take on Lucifer isn't the traditionally evil King of Hell and that the crew decided to focus more on the fact that he began his existence as an angel. Buuuut I also really love when writers take into account that he isn't (and never was) human and it shows in his behavior. It's an interesting contrast from Alastor who seems to try to make himself inhuman, but can never really disconnect himself from his humanity.

Same here. I like Lucifer being this absolute mess of an immortal being who's still feeling the affects of the being cast out from Heaven. It feels like he still carries himself as an angel, in some way, but he's obviously been changed since falling to Hell (given he HAS a demonic form), and its a lot more interesting than him just being the big bad king of Hell who's unabashedly evil.

I also really like you're note about Alastor trying to appear inhuman, but is unable to get rid of his humanity. That is 😙👌 de-fucking-licious. I am a sucker for fics that lean into Alastor's humanity.

[undead-knick-knack]

It's De-lightful

It's De-licious

It's D̪͎͍̦͚͓͉̪̀̄ͬ̋̐ͦe̲͖̪͍̣͕̫͇̎͗͌̓-̰̘̩̣̠͗L̫̫͎̥̞̭ͧ̒̒̈́͛̍ͧ̚a̝̗̱̫̮̰͎ͯ̑ͬ̑̿̿ṳ͎̖̭̲̥͙ͮͣ̄ͮ̍̄̔d̙̗̯̙͖̱̬͓͌ň̺̭͚̰̟̹͐̈́ͯͩ̄ͅa̼̠ͫ̒̈́̋̆̒ͭ͋

[porcelainseashore]

Coffee & Secrets (3)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Rookie Cop! Leon x Barista! Fem! Reader

Summary: As a cozy coffee shop owner in Raccoon City, you’re no stranger to visitors seeking comfort, quiet, and warmth. When a rookie officer named Leon finds a kindred spirit in you, it sets in motion a chain of events that forever changes the course of your lives. An alternate universe set in Resident Evil 2 Remake and inspired by the game Coffee Talk.

Content & Warnings: Canon divergence, coffee shops, romance, slow burn, strangers to lovers, idiots in love, fluff, slice of life, swearing

AO3 Link

Chapter 3: Venture

As the days flew by, quickly turning into weeks and the weeks culminating in months, Leon grew busier, taking on additional responsibilities from his colleagues. Just as you had predicted, he was more than qualified and capable of handling his own in the role of a police officer. Despite that, he always found the time to visit your shop, even if it was for a quick coffee break during a night shift. No matter how grueling it was, he would be there. Sometimes, he would even get yelled at by his patrol partner for taking too long, though they were often placated by a free pick-me-up you doled out, which Leon insisted on footing the bill without fail.

One of these nights, he strolled in with Lieutenant Branagh, chatting jovially as they grabbed the usual front row seats.

“How’s my favorite barista doing?” Marvin greeted you, unclasping his arms as he brought you in for a quick hug over the counter.

“Not too shabby, how about you? How’s the girls?”

Leon eyed the two of you curiously; the familiarity with which you interacted with each other catching him slightly off-guard.

“They’re doing great, growing up so fast. My eldest might surpass her old man in a year’s time—just you wait,” he chortled, settling himself in.

“Remember her?” He passed you a recent photo of his daughter from his wallet.

“No way,” you guffawed, feeling the glossy paper nestle itself between your fingers. “She’s changed so much!”

“She’s a fine, young lady now, with a good head over her shoulders,” he responded, his eyes brimming with pride. “Just like yourself.”

“Thanks Marv,” you said, your response heartfelt as you returned the photo to him. “So, the usual?”

Rapping his fingers rhythmically on the table, he confirmed, “The usual.”

“Hey.” It was soft, unassuming, and so unapologetically Leon. 

A subtle smile broke out across his lips as he nodded at you. No hug—maybe it was too soon for hugs and he was not comfortable enough.

“Hey,” you acknowledged, nodding back with a faint smile of your own.

“I wish I could say ‘the usual’, but I don’t have one yet,” he admitted. “By the way, I’m getting this round.” He turned and peered over at Marvin who stood up halfway to protest.

“Naw, come on, put your money away, boy,” the older man commanded.

But Leon was not having any of it. “I insist, Lieutenant.” Holding his hand up before Marvin, he continued, “These few months, you’ve gone out of the way to mentor and support me. It’s the least I could do.”

At this, Marvin raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, then I’ll accept your offer graciously, rookie.”

You saw Leon scoff lightly at the nickname as he turned his attention towards you, his features mellowing. “I’ll take whatever you brew for me tonight,” he decided.

Just as you spun around to complete the order, he murmured, the lilt of his voice carried across by the wind, “It’s so good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too, Leon,” you whispered back, noticing the crinkle in his eyes, the way he subconsciously puffed out his chest, and the fleeting glimpse of happiness that washed over his face.

Marvin glanced between the two of you as a knowing smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, but he said nothing, trusting in the passage of time to make its intentions clear.

When you served their drinks, Marvin slurped his down voraciously. “Ooh, the kick is still there. De-licious!” he exclaimed.

“What’s that?” Leon quizzed.

“Kopi Jahe—coffee and ginger,” Marvin clarified. “It’s Indonesian, if I’m not wrong. Perfect for my lactose-intolerant stomach.” He patted his belly to emphasize his point.

“Whatcha get?” he asked in return.

The younger officer blushed as he looked at you. “Guess I’ll have to taste it to find out.”

As always, he sniffed it before taking a tentative sip from the cup. “Mmm…” His eyes squeezed shut while he focused on the flavors. “Hmm…”

“Mint?” His bright blues greeted you again.

“Coffee, mint and honey,” you affirmed, flourishing it with a name, “Fire and Ice.”

Before he had a chance to respond, the door chime rang, and your eyes darted to your next customer of the night.

Ben. Good ol’ Ben Bertolucci.

“A Triple Espresso, please,” he called out, already striding towards his usual sitting corner, while simultaneously giving the two policemen a long, hard look. 

“Evening, officers,” he said curtly, giving them a sharp nod. They tipped their hats back, paying no mind to his soured mood as they dived into another conversation of their own.

Firing up the coffee machine, you ground the beans into a fine powder and let the pressurized hot water seep through the puck. The richly aromatic smell of a dark roast filled the air as the concentrated, viscous liquid dripped into the awaiting demitasse.

During this intermediary period, you unwittingly eavesdropped on the friendly chat between the officers.

“How do you know her again, Lieutenant?”

“Oh, I’ve been here a good number of times back in the day. Times when I really needed it. Times when all I wanted was a comforting drink and a space to sort out my mess. I happened to stumble across this shop—”

“Me too.”

“Hmpf, guess it’s that kinda place… let’s count ourselves lucky then. Anyway, enough about me. What about you?”

“Uh, what about me, sir?”

“You got any plans for your future, son? Pretty sure you didn’t just end up in Raccoon City with those perfect grades.”

“Oh, um, yeah. I guess. Now that you put it that way, uh, I’ve always wanted to investigate the Arklay Murders.”

“The Arklay Murders, huh? Shooting for the detective route?”

“You could say that.”

“Well, have you ever considered applying for S.T.A.R.S.?”

“Wh-what? Um, no, sir. Didn’t think I would qualify for something like that yet.”

“I’ve seen how you work. You're a fast learner, diligent, and competent. I know talent when I see it. You just need to work on your confidence a little, rookie. Keep this up and you’ll have my letter of recommendation on your desk by next year.”

“Wow, th-thanks, Lieutenant… I’m just not sure—”

“Look, you don’t have to make a decision now. All I’m asking is for you to think about it, alright?”

Reluctantly tearing yourself away from the rest of the discussion, you picked up the demitasse, which seemed to weigh like stone as you trudged over to Ben, setting it down on his makeshift desk. Heaps of documents were strewn across its surface in a haphazard manner as he scribbled furiously on his notepad, circling items in a red marker.

“Oh, hey, thanks,” he mumbled, still absorbed in his writing. “Hope you don’t mind, but it’s gonna be a long night.”

“Not at all, Ben,” you said, frowning at the grainy images of what appeared to be the Chief of Police, Brian Irons, in the background.

When he saw you peeking at his work, he shuffled apprehensively in his seat, attempting to use his arm to block your view. “Sorry, but this is top secret stuff.”

“I understand,” you replied empathetically. “Don’t worry, it’s safe with me.”

He snorted at your remark, but eased up, absentmindedly stroking his beard as he spoke, “Appreciate it. Don’t wanna rub people the wrong way, like those folks over there.” He jutted his chin out in Leon and Marvin’s direction.

“Seems like the RPD has taken a liking to this place,” he added with a hint of disdain.

You shook your head and laughed. “Not all of my customers are police officers, Ben.”

Narrowing his eyes at the two, he piped up, “Just watch yourself, that’s my advice. In my world, they’re pigs—the whole lot of ’em. Probably why the term ‘ACAB’ exists, eh?” He wagged his finger. “Food for thought.”

“You’ve probably seen a lot of abuse in your line of work,” you speculated, figuring that his poor experience with the force had shaped his current opinion.

“No shit,” he huffed before composing himself. “Well, as far as I can tell, Branagh’s… tolerable. Dull, but tolerable. The kid over there though, I don’t trust him, seems a bit green.”

You glanced over at Leon briefly. Almost as if he sensed your presence, his eyes shifted away from Marvin, colliding with yours, and a smile tinged with uncertainty unfolded on his face.

He’ll come into his own, you thought, smiling back reassuringly.

“So…” 

Ben’s gruff voice snapped you out of your reverie as you faced him again, but you didn’t miss a beat. “So, you’re obviously swamped. Ever imagined hiring an intern?”

“Why? Having second thoughts about your business?” he smirked in amusement.

“Nah, just a suggestion,” you replied blithely as you clutched the tray across your chest and tottered back to the counter. “You should put a call out. I’m sure a bunch of people would be interested in the work you do.”

Back at the other table, Marvin rose to leave, slapping Leon’s back encouragingly. “Well, it’s been a pleasure, but if I don’t head home in the next five minutes, I’ll end up on the sofa tonight.”

After you said your goodbyes, Leon leaned against the side of the counter, adjusting the hem of his uniform as he looked between the door and you, seemingly debating whether he should call it a night too. However, he decided otherwise.

“Um, you don’t mind if I stay a little longer, do you?”

“Not at all.” You indicated towards the typically vacant chairs in the room. “Take all the time you need.”

He did not sit down, hanging around you in silence for a few minutes before he said what was on his mind. “Did you always want to be a barista when you grew up?”

That stumped you. It was not very often that you received personal questions or interest in what you were doing. Maybe some even felt bad to ask. You were far more used to listening to people, and not the other way around.

“No, not really,” you answered truthfully. “To be frank, I don’t think I ever knew.”

“So, what made you decide?”

You hummed, tapping your chin as you pondered his question. “It was something I kinda just fell into,” you explained. “I saw an opportunity and took my chance. I guess I’ve always been idealistic and wanting to help people…”

“I’ve always wanted that too…” he chimed in gently as his fingers inadvertently brushed against yours. He jerked his hand away as soon as he realized, as if he had received an electric shock.

Pressing his lips into a thin line, he continued, “I became who I am because, when I was young, I saw someone do this very same job. He helped others, ordinary people, including me.”

“The man saved my life,” he stressed, pausing as if recalling a distant memory, before he divulged, “I told everyone, ‘That’s who I want to be when I grow up!’ Helping civilians, doing the little things that change their lives.”

“Now it feels like I’m only getting further away from it,” he sighed despondently. “Solving mystery cases like Scooby-Doo and joining an elite team…”

Your fingertips grazed his knuckles. “Nothing’s stopping you.”

“What?” He looked at you, startled.

“Nothing’s stopping you from helping others, just because you end up doing something else,” you answered plainly.

It took a while for your words to sink in before he could react to them. “You’re— I don’t know how you do it,” he chuckled in disbelief to himself. “You make me want to tell you everything. That’s your superpower.”

“I’m just me,” you shrugged. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

“And that’s exactly how I like you.”

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[badaleesbish]

BADA...

FUCKING....

LEE‼️

She knows we miss her, so she decided to spoil her babies...

She is so FUCKING beautiful...

She looks SCRUMPTIOUS 😍

DE FUCKING LICIOUS‼️‼️

Is it even possible for this woman to not look so damn good with every hair color...

[fromthedust]

unknown photographer - Wrecked - 1922

Alfred Eisenstaedt (German/American, 1898-1995) - A man standing in the lumberyard of Seattle Cedar Lumber Manufacturing - 1937

Alice Posluszna (working in Poland) - The Indoctrination - 2019 - www.instagram.com/alicja_posluszna/

Ján Cifra (Czech, 1929-1959) - Sand Dunes, Vietnam - 1956

Richard Nash (UK) – Monument to Ralph of Shrewsbury, Bishop of Bath and Wells (died 1363) - Wells Cathedral, Somerset

Justin Alexander Bartels (working in San Diego) - BOUDOIR-LICIOUS Lingerie - IMPRESSION series - justinalexanderbartels.com

Gérard Uféras (French, b.1970) - Museum d'histoire Naturelle Galerie de Paléontologie - Paris - Octobre 2016

unknown photographer - Helen Moyer with Electric Eel model - The Field Museum of Natural History - Chicago - 1947

unknown photographer - Nan Wood Graham and Dr. Byron McKeeby at the Grant Wood Memorial Exhibition - Gallery at the Cedar Rapids Public Library - September 1942

Jean Dieuzaide (French, 1921-2003) - La Petite Fille au lapin (Little Girl with a Rabbit) - Portugal - 1954

[vampirkit]

lestat de licious

[blvckentropy]

Curv-De-Licious

[celticcatgirl2]

“Dreamin’ about tacos…De-Licious….”

[beneathcandycoatedclouds]

Ok hear me out I've been thinking so much about Astarion for obvious reasons but also about consent and how important that is to him as a character

I was talking to my husband about how I love him because he always waits for you to ask for things before doing them (feeding, relationship stuff, etc.) And even tho all the characters do that it feels extra special with him given his trauma and being a vampire, which usually means you hunt people for sport and are not asking permission, and my husband was like "yeah except for the first time"

And here's the thing about that - Astarion is a rogue. A real sneaky boy. Mechanically has sneak attack. His bite bonus action has a 100% chance of hitting. You shouldn't wake up until he has latched on to you already. Which leads me to believe... That he meant to wake you up that first time. He meant to wake you up so that there would be a chance to reveal his nature and to ask if he can have some blood so he doesn't fuckin' die. But given that the dude isn't used to trust or vulnerability and revealing that he is a vampire is already a MASSIVE show of that, he needed to find a way to make it seem like he wasn't asking permission. In a weird way, he wanted to ask for consent without being fully vulnerable. And to me this was the first display, way early on, that he was just waiting for someone to trust him and trust in his abilities to make the right choice. He knows what that choice is he just needs people to trust him to make it (which is also another de-LICIOUS theme with all the other companions as well and the overarching theme of overcoming the darkness within us as a whole).

And on top of all this he later reveals that he has never tasted blood from someone before!!! Only animals!!! Like even when he had to do terrible things for Cazador or was out searching the streets for victims he never caved once! He was living off of the putrid rats Cazador gave him and denied his hunger when out in public because it was important to him that he didn't hurt people when he didn't absolutely have to from evil papa C!

And like yeah. Sometimes he wants murder and chaos and children to die in act I. But also hear me out - one of the things so many approval guides messes up in explaining what he approves of is "is this person typically classified as a monster? Are you killing them without looking for an explanation or giving them another chance, even if they might not deserve it?" And usually it's things like sparing the act I hag or other "monsters". That's why he is so blatantly racist to the Gur - and please don't misunderstand I think it's rough to hear that part - but looking at it from his perspective as well, Gur monster hunters kill "monsters" without a second thought. If Astarion was alone they would have just murdered him without thinking or realizing that he wasn't everything they thought he was or knowing he had never tasted human blood.

Now we are far away from the original post idea from consent but this all leads to the final point of like. People characterizing him as chaotic evil and just how much the alignment system really can do people dirty. Like no! It can all be traced back to a deep good desire of wanting to give people another chance and giving people an opportunity to make their own choices and be better! He has no idea but that desire is there! Basically it's like the option you can say to Minsc - there's good and bad in everyone it's just what people want to listen to

[fordarkisthesuede]

Heyyy…so, about where I’ve beeeeen… 

I considered doing a silly little poll to have you guess, but... Oh, what the hey! Let's do it!!!

Anyway -

While a lotta y’all had "Brat Summer", I had "Slowly-Being-Consumed-By-Moss" Summer.

And GA summers are real fuckin’ long.

Every year I seem to go through a phase where I decide I’ve had enough of endlessly scrolling through tumblr and feeling bad about not getting things done. Sometimes this is combined with the incredible gloom of coming onto the only social media I partake in and finding nothing but tragic news. Only this time it combined with the very-dreaded Election Season Panic (US version). (Please hold in your derisive laughter.)

Pictured above:  a representation of me, circa…like, April 2024.

I should note the things that I tend to over-use tumblr to avoid aren’t things that have “real” deadlines, but I feel more and more guilty when I don’t do them, or else carve out time to do them. These are usually “replying to messages” and “writing my epic fanfic”, but can even branch out to “making stable diary entries” and the like.

My fellow writers - at least some of you - know what I mean. We clean our living spaces or sort things or bake to avoid writing, because for some reason when we look at the proverbial page our brain nopes out. Sometimes it’s because of the fear we’re not writing well enough for our stuff to actually be liked. Sometimes it’s because we’re veeery stuck with where we’re at and looking at the stupid spot we’re stuck at for the millionth time is exhausting. Sometimes it’s cuz we’re plum outta ideas ‘cause the stars haven’t aligned.

But this past summer was…particularly bad in the writer’s block area. So much so that another fic I was writing from back in February to combat writer’s block with BtTTS: S5 was even getting big ol’ roadblocks! Which is really dumb. It’s mindless self-insert fun for a fandom I’ll probably never write for publicly, yet I’m struggling? WTF.

So most of the summer, I experienced Lethargy. No melancholy, no anger or serious anxiety, no hopelessness or real lack of sleep or feeling over-tired. So not depression, I don’t think, but no real enthusiasm or energy for creative stuff, nor video games for some reason. I went to work, read the news, worked my way through most of a One Piece rewatch, caught up on some manga, and went through a list of movies I had been meaning to see. (Man, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolf was wild. You guys see that? De-licious drama. Incredible. I’ll def see it again in like 5 or 10 years.)

I thought about coming back to do a Book of Bill post. I pre-ordered it ages ago. It arrived, I read through it over the span of a few days, I spent time working out most of the puzzles… But I just couldn’t bring up the enthusiasm to do anything for it. It was fun ‘n’ all, but it’s not like a lot of the stuff in there is revolutionary or anything. Besides, by the time I got around to reading the book I already knew all the puzzles were solved and posted online by like day 2 of release or something, because the GF fandom is feral when it comes to puzzles. The Blacklight book was special because of its limited run, and I felt the need to share it so everyone could see. The Bill book you can find in any B&N or e-book store. The thought of typing up anything on it just felt like work.

And THEN…come late July… 

Like ol’ blue eyes lyrics, something came shakin’.

It was like the rubber-band that somehow wound around my brain SNAPPED and went

It wasn't exactly a surprise, yet it was. I've been waiting for like, a decade now. And I finally had means, motive, and opportunity,

It took every single one of my weekends from August to mid-September to find and settle on a place. And then it was every single weekend from then to mid-October to find and store furniture and start packing, all while juggling the UTTER NIGHTMARE that is the mortgage closing process.

Oh, and that hurricane. That certainly didn’t help any. (I'm fine.)

Anywho, that’s why I’ve been hermiting it up. Just been trying to clear my head and get a sense of independence - while I still can -while crafting my own little Ha-Hacienda. And even in light of recent…world-changing events…I’m clinging to my projects with my sharp, sharp nails and my primitive canines, because while the world is clearly always awful I’ve got to enjoy some small slices of life on this absolute bitch of an Earth. Hope I didn’t scare any of ya with my absence. ❤️

P.S. If anyone wants to fill me in on what tumblr-centric and Batman-universe things I missed this past 6 months, the askbox and replies are open. Wrong answers, vague answers, and hieroglyphics accepted, as long as you cite your sources.

[theresbugsinmybasement]

@rottmeltson. DE-FUCKING-LICIOUS!!!

*proceeds to choke and die*

[patibato]

[Bitter Sweet Sixteen] 002-A18 - wallflower

Momiji: Muneuji-kun, is Ushio-kun's work going…

Muneuji: He won't say, even if I ask.

Momiji: I see. Maybe I'll go ask him myself.

Muneuji: I don't believe you'll receive a good response. You see, Uuchan… Ushio is-

Ushio: My stomach hurts, so I'm going to sleep. It's toooo painful to give a progress report.

Momiji: (H-he's pretending to sleep…!)

Ushio: …Seems too noisy to sleep here, I'll go somewhere else. See ya.

*footsteps*

Momiji: …

Muneuji: Ushio is extraordinarily contrary, so his disposition is such that when he's told to do something, he'll stubbornly refuse to do it.

That's probably how he feels this very moment. My understanding of this is why even I can't quite reach out.

Momiji: I see… I remember how I felt at that age.

Wanting to resist when your parents or teachers butt into your life. I had a phase like that too…

Muneuji: No, Uuchan's parents are-

…No, it's nothing.

Momiji: Yeah?

Muneuji: Excuse me. I was about to say something I shouldn't.

Please forget that. …As an apology, I'll give you a little hint on how to win over Uuchan.

He's weak to "ReiOu" - he's a ReiOu liker.

Momiji: Rei… ou…? I've never heard that word before, what is it exactly?

Muneuji: I don't know the details myself. However, I've heard him say people are "cooking*" with it or somesuch.

Momiji: Huh…

(Cooking… that does just make me think of food. Ah, maybe something to do with open-air fires or camping supplies?)

(I say that, but I can't quite picture Ushio enjoying the outdoors…)

I'll look it up.

…Huh! There's not a single result.

Muneuji: That's odd. Perhaps there are strict rules on the web search.

Momiji: (Reiou… I feel like I'm going to lose sleep thinking about this.)

Boyfriend: Woah~ did you make this bento for me!? These sandwiches look delicious!

Girlfriend: It's a must for a beach date. Ufufu. Eat up plenty, I brewed some tea too.

Boyfriend: De~licious! You're the best! I wuv you!

Girlfriend: No, YOU'RE the best! I wuv you wots!

Ushio: "Wuv wuv", ugh… right when someone else is worrying, too. Easygoing people sure have it nice.

(I brought the egg here since I figure I should throw it in the sea, but the place is filled with noisy, carefree couples… guess this was a bust.)

Well, whatever. At any rate, I should hurry and throw-

*tap tap tap*

Ushio: (… What's that sound…)

*tap tap tap*

Ushio: (Is something in the shell… knocking?)

…So gross and creepy… Feels like it's gonna explode the moment I take it out the bag, awful…

Would be nice to throw it out with the bag, but…

Boyfriend: I wuv you mo~re!

Girlfriend: No way! I wuv you most!

Ushio: Tch…

(There's more eyes here than I thought, and this pouch belongs to Muneuji's little sister, so I can't…)

…What exactly should I do here.

Boyfriend: Ahahahaha! You make me so happy!

Ushio: ……

Girlfriend: Come on, that's my line! Ufufufu!

Ushio: …Just disappear, you flower-brained idiots. Are their heads filled with pink candy floss or something?

Boyfriend & Girlfriend: Ahahahahaha!

??: Ahahahahaha!

Ushio: (Ah-)

(I'm falling.)

[Asu-High *** Year Class *** Chat~!]

Mizuho**: Wasn't he awful today? Feels like he appears whenever you mention him

Hirota: You mean that Gentleman***? He appeared when I was shit-talking, scared the crap out of me!

Jinguji: Who was it, anyway? Y'know, that gave him that "Gentleman" nickname behind his back… lol

Shodo: Me lol cause he seems to think he's all upstanding lol it's so funny lol

Hirota: He puts on airs then completely bombs it lmao no helping it since he's a loner lmao

Mizuho: Felt like he popped up like a bug when we were having fun talking

Jinguji: I hate even breathing the same air as him, can't he screw up and get expelled

Ushio: (Falling, falling.)

Classmate A: Y'know, that guy-

Classmate B: Ah? Who?

Classmate A: That Gentleman.

Classmate B: Aah.

Ushio: (It'll be a real pain if I fall.)

Classmate A: He's always got that amused smirk on his face, even though his family got wiped out.

Is he fucked in the head?

Classmate B: Usually you wouldn't be able to smile ever again.

Ushio: (Ah.)

Ushio: …

I fell.

Momiji: Thanks for coming shopping with me, Sakujiro-san!

Sakujiro: No, 'tis but a trifling matter. Now, let us carry the bags inside.

Momiji: Right! Nice and easy…

…

Um, Sakujiro-san, did you see it? The forecast for the day after tomorrow…

Sakujiro: Yes, the weather forecast. I of course checked it in advance.

Momiji: What should we do…

Sakujiro: These things occasionally happen when carrying out something important.

Sakume is always watching over you and the students, Chief.

Momiji: Right…

Ushio: …

Momiji: Wah! You surprised me! Ushio-kun, weren't you resting in your… room…

Ushio: ……

*footsteps*

Momiji: (Are his eyes glazed over? Is he angry?)

*He says Ushio is a "tsuyobi" of the genre, which is slang for a hardcore fan. However, the term itself refers to a high cooking temperature, so it was changed to make sense with Momiji's following comments

**While these character's names don't appear in the story, they are in the log. They may be incorrect since there are multiple possible readings of the kanji used

***Originally "好青年" (kouseinen), defined as "good young man", "agreeable youth", so on. I'm… not entirely happy with how translating it as "gentleman" sounds, but it's the closest I can think of that somewhat works as a nickname. It may be changed later

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