#eating a chocolate muffin to make me feel better

[silliemop]

GUYS IM HONESTLYGONMA EXPLODE I CANT

i haven’t watched his videos in a while but saw something yesterday about this last vid and watched it just when it started and was okay at first BUT THEN THE ENDING MADE ME START SOBBING I MISS HIM SOMUCH ILOVEE HIM AND HIS VIDEOS

I ADORED HIM WHEN I WAS YOUNGER AND WATCHED HIS VIDEOS A BUNCH i gotta start watching them again from the beginning

and i was literally like “no WAY” when i saw this get recommended right after watching

hguhhhgdhfg never recovering from this

THANK YOU STAMPY FOR YOURRR AMAZING SERIESS!!!!<33333 KFBDK

[the-ferocious-kittyrose]

Simon gets a message from reader while he’s on base. It’s a video. The thumbnail looks like a blurred image of a store isle

Once he has a moment to himself, he’s able to sit back and finally check out what you had sent.

The camera pans down to show yours and simon’s two year old daughter. She has half a mini chocolate muffin clutched in her little baby fist and chocolate smudges on her nose and bright pink cheeks. She’s standing, staring at something out of frame.

The camera is a bit shaky and Simon can hear you trying desperately to hide your laughter.

“Baby,” you say, “baby, look at me.” You bend down to bring the camera closer to your daughter, who only turns to look at you for a second before going back to staring at the same spot out of frame.

“Who is that?”

Your daughter raised one of her chocolate covered hands to point towards whatever it was that had been captivating her the entire video. “Daddy.”

Simon here’s more of your pained stifled laughter and the camera follows your daughter’s gaze, revealing a cheaply made Halloween grim reaper statue, with dusty purple robes, a plastic scythe, and a hilariously misshapen skull face.

He reads the accompanying texts that had followed the video.

[She just started saying “daddy daddy” over and over and it took me forever to figure out what she was talking about]

[for a second I thought, “oh is he here?”]

[Im so dense lol]

[she really misses you ]

[I miss you too]

The next text was a picture of your daughter fast asleep in her car seat. Now cleaned of chocolate, she had replaced her muffin with a giant plastic rat that she hugged to her chest like a teddy bear.

[she refused to leave without it]

Simon smiles. It had been a long time since he had a family. People who loved waiting for him to come home.

Your texts had been sent hours ago, and he felt bad about not responding all day.

[that’s unfair. My mask is made of much better materials]

[I miss you both too. If everything goes right I should be home by Monday]

[and don’t call yourself dense]

Simon thinks for a moment, something eating at him about that video

[I wish she didn’t know about the mask. I don’t want her to see me that way]

You respond quickly, making Simon feel worse about his delayed reply

[Dont worry about that honey. She’s only two, and I think she only saw you wear in mask once once or twice. She’ll forget in a month.]

[She doesn’t see you as anything other than her daddy]

[her daddy and her jungle gym]

[lol yes that too]

[Im sorry I don’t have a lot of time. I’ll try and call you tomorrow]

[ok Im heading to bed now anyway]

[goodnight I love you ❤️]

[goodnight I love you too ❤️]

[novvabee]

And They Were Roommates pt.4

summary: you and james spend the day baking

“You're doing it wrong” You told James.

“Am not! You said to whisk, I am whisking.” He countered.

You and James had decided to spend the day baking. You made muffins this morning, followed by sugar cookies, and an apple pie. You were now trying to tackle the daunting German chocolate cake that James grew up eating. You were planning to give out some of the baked goods to your friends, saving the rest for the three boys that seemingly never stop eating.

You and James in the kitchen and Sirius and Remus looking cozy on the couch together, sitting quite close you noted. There was a closeness between them that you couldn’t quite place. They were all close, the boys. They were quite affectionate with each other, cozy. You didn't exactly know what to call it, to make of it. You would see them lounging together, one’s head in another's lap, legs tangled together, knees brushing under the kitchen table. Maybe they were just affectionate people, maybe they were cuddly and they were all fine with it. You had never known guy friends to be so… warm with each other. Perhaps it was just them.

You were slightly jealous if you were being honest. Maybe it was because you felt a bit left out, felt that you weren't really one of their friends since they didn’t act that way with you. Maybe it was because you were a girl and they didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. Maybe it was because you thought the three were attractive and… It didn’t matter. 

“Shit,” James said, taking you from your thoughts. “We forgot to preheat the oven.”

You groaned playfully “Can’t leave you in charge of anything.”

“Hey! I have been dutifully measuring and whisking, and you have been just standing there looking pretty.” He defended himself, complimenting you in the process. It made you smile.

“Fine, fine. I will finish whisking, you start the chocolate mixture.” You smiled, taking the whisk and bowl from him and starting yourself.

This was a great day. Peaceful, wholesome, relaxing. You got to lounge around all day in comfy clothes, listening to music and enjoying James’s company.

You continued whisking, deep in your own thoughts, when you heard James. “Ok, now you’re doing it wrong- let me just” he made to reach for the bowl and take over again.

You batted his hands away and giggled “Leave me alone! I know what I’m doing-”

“Do not! I was doing a much better job.” He continued trying to grab for the bowl. But you grabbed the bowl and whisk and turned, out of his reach. He was not having it. He reached around you, hugging you from behind, making to grab for the bowl again. You squealed and laughed, trying to twist out of his grasp but it was no use. 

“James Potter!” You laughed.

“Give.”

“Never!” 

At this his hands reached for your sides and squeezed making you cry out and fall to the ground. The bowl of cake batter now all over the floor.

“That is not fair! No tickling!” You yelled at him.

He laughed hard, clutching his stomach.

“This is not funny, asshole! Now we have to start all over.” You pouted up at him. Sirius and Remus now at the entrance of the kitchen, no doubt alerted by the commotion, and were taking in the mess.

James continues to laugh, now at your use of language that he almost never hears. Remus made his way to grab some paper towels to clean up the mess. Sirius hiding a smile, leaning against the cabinets.

Not impressed, you scooped some of the batter off of the floor onto your finger and flung it at James’s face. He startled, brown batter now speckling his face, and Sirius could not hold back his laughter any longer. James made to retaliate, but Remus shoved him back, paper towel in hand.

Remus grabbed your wrist and wiped the batter off of it. “We are not starting this,” he said. “James help clean this up.”

“What! She spilled it and then threw it at me.” James tried to reason. Remus just gave him a look and James sighed, going to grab more paper towels. Remus turned his attention back to you.

He took your face in one hand and brought the towel to your cheek with the other. Some batter must have splashed up onto your face. You blushed from the attention and closeness of Remus. “There you are.” He said scanning over the rest of your face. “Clumsy?” he asked jokingly.

“N-no, it was James. He made me spill.” You said, trying to convince him. Remus held out his hand for you to take, and helped you back up to your feet. You decided that that was enough baking for the day. You helped clean up, and put away the ingredients and mopping the floor of residual cake batter. You decided that the rest of the day would be lovely spent on the couch and watching something with the boys.

You moved the baked goods onto the coffee table to snack on while watching movies.

“These are delicious,” Sirius said in between bites of a cookie. “Thank you Y/N!”

“Hey, I helped,” James said meekly.

“You most certainly did my sweet Jamesie.” Sirius said, leaning over and placing a big, overexaggerated kiss on James’s cheek. James rolled his eyes and shoved him off. 

There it was again, that pang, that feeling of… whatever it was. You shook your head and shook the feeling off, planting a smile on your face.

“Glad to know you like them, Sirius, I’ll make them more often for you.” You said to him. You tried as much as you could to shake the feeling and enjoy the night with your friends, but you noticed James laying his head on Remus’s shoulder. The feeling. You didn’t know what to do with it. You were going to have to figure something out, soon.

Taglist 💌: @too-efn-old-to-be-here @cometsghost @eeviee4 @giuli-in-earth

[yourstru1y4ever]

Day 9 - “Open your mouth.”

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader Word Count: 973 Content: Fluff, Gojo being Gojo (I think that’s a fair warning), a little taste of Gojo and Reader taking care of Megumi and Tsumiki after they graduated from Jujutsu High! Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist <- check out the other fics posted this month!

A/N: I definitely didn’t miss a day, what are you talking about??? (No I did and it was because I tried contacts for the first time ever. It gave me such a horrible headache, but I’m doing better today which is nice. I know I still need to complete day 3, 4 and now 8; I’m on it, don’t worry!)

October 2008

“Gojo, we need to go home.”

“The kids want a snack, don’t you guys?” Gojo looks back at Tsumiki and Megumi. Megumi just rolls his eyes at Gojo while Tsumiki trips over her feet. You quickly grab her hand before she falls over. You shoot a glare at Gojo as he gives you an embarrassed smile.

“We should eat though. It’ll bring back our energy!” Gojo mentions as you all come to a stop right in front of a cafe.

“How convenient.” You mutter, “Fine but we should get home soon, it’s nearing the kids bedtime.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Gojo smiles, “Bedtimes and all that- let’s eat!”

He practically shoves you all into the cafe, but you can’t complain. You were starting to feel hungry and you knew that your patience would keep getting shorter the longer you went without getting something to eat.

Gojo puts all of your shopping bags to a little fourtop and sits down. You bring the kids with you in tow and give him a look as the kids join him at the table.

. . . “What?”

“You’re sitting down,”

“So?”

“You wanted to eat here. You order the food.”

“What?! But I bought all of the clothes today.”

“And we didn’t even make a dent in your fortune.”

“Hmmmm,” Gojo looks into the bags, “I think we might have.” He nods his head. Tsumiki holds back a laugh while Megumi deflates in his chair. Megumi gets out of his chair and goes to hold your hand.

“I’ll help.” He tells you.

“Thank you Megumi, at least someone will help me out.”

Gojo’s face drops, “Wha-?” He looks over at Tsumiki who starts giggling.

“Maybe I’ll help you too!” She mentions through her fit of giggles.

“But who will watch over me?!” Gojo asks exasperatedly, throwing a hand to cover his eyes in a dramatic way. You bring a hand up to your head and try to rub the oncoming headache.

“Tsumiki it’s alright, someone does need to look after Satoru after all,” He perks up, “Do you just want your usual?”

“Yes-”

“I was talking to Tsumiki, Gojo.”

“HA?!”

“Yes please!” Tsumiki responds. You nod your head at her and take Megumi up towards the counter. As you’re waiting in line you lift him up and have him sit on your hip, knowing how tired he’s been. He wouldn’t show it intentionally but you could tell it’s been a long day for him too. His eyes have been drooping and his head keeps snapping back straight up.

When you pick him up at first he goes stiff, unsure of what’s happening, but as you get him in a good position he relaxes, wrapping his arms around your neck and letting his legs go around your torso. Once you get up to the counter, you buy four hot chocolates, a few sandwiches, a slice of cinnamon coffee cake and a blueberry muffin (putting it all on Gojo’s card of course).

As you walk over by the waiting area you take a glance at Gojo and Tsumiki. She’s coloring something in one of the coloring books that Gojo bought for her a few weeks back and Gojo is sulking. You shake your head, he’s probably upset that you didn’t ask for his order.

Your name is called and you go to grab the order, “Ready Megumi?”

He nods his head as you put him back onto the ground. You both walk up to the counter, you pick up the tray with the four hot chocolates and hand it to him, “You got it?”

“Yeah,”

You smile at him as he carefully walks back to the table, careful to not spill any of the hot chocolate. You grab the food you ordered as well as some forks and knives and quickly follow behind Megumi. Once you both make it to the table, Gojo smiles seemingly done sulking. You place everything on the table and give both kids a hot chocolate and their sandwiches.

They thank you and start eating quickly. You hand Gojo the cinnamon coffee cake and you start to eat the blueberry muffin. Before Gojo takes a bite of the cake, you quietly moan, covering your mouth. You didn’t mean to moan but with how delicious the food is you couldn’t help yourself.

It was utterly decant and just what you needed for a snack.

You see Gojo open his mouth in shock, nearly dropping his fork but quickly grabbing it again. You give him a confused look and he gives you a smirk.

“Here~” He holds out the fork with a bite of the cinnamon coffee cake.

“What are you doing? You never share.”

“I want to this time. Come on,” He tilts his head to the side, his smirk getting wider (if possible), “Open your mouth.”

He brings the fork closer to your mouth and against your better judgment you do as Gojo says. You bite down on the fork and he takes it out of your mouth, waiting to see your expression.

You bring a hand up to cover your mouth, but your eyes go wide and then they close as you savor the flavor. It wasn’t like anything you’ve eaten before, just pure and utter bliss. You sigh contentedly and open your eyes to see Gojo looking at you with an unreadable expression.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Do I have crumbs on my face?”

“No-

Tsumiki and Megumi look at each other knowingly as you and Gojo continue to avoid talking about what’s really going on between the two of you.

Maybe one day Gojo will actually admit to himself that he had feelings for you, but for now he’ll keep teasing you until you lightly hit him. Because you’re never truly that mad at him, because maybe you have feelings for him too.

[miloformula123fan]

Hey! Could you do fic about Fernando Alonso x baker!reader from prompt? Tag me later! Thanks

of course darling. im so sorry it took me this long to get it out for you <3

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

and my masterlist is here <3

fernando alonso x baker!reader

“Hola, welcome to pan y amor, what can i get for you?”

“Your number?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Oh are you taken, my apologies. ”

“...no I’m not taken, just wasn’t expecting you to be so bold. How about you buy something and if you like it you can have my number and take me on a date?”

“I am not usually this bold, I apologise. Okay then, what would you recommend, mi sol?”

“Well, I mean, I have to recommend our natillas de leche, unless your allergic to something in them, then I’d try and think of something else.”

“Not allergic, though if my trainer heard how many of these I was eating.”

“Trainer huh?” as Y/N passed over the natillas. “so , you’re an athlete?”

“F1 driver, Fernando Alonso” he held over his hand to shake, after paying “i’m from here, so I like to come in and spend time with the locals”

“Oh, well I’m not the biggest f1 fan, but I’m sure happy to help the locals, maybe you could introduce me to F1.”

---

“Darling, I’m trying to make some brownies before the bakery opens, you cannot come in here and distract me.”

“Can I make something to help?”

“Do you swear that you will follow my instructions to a T?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, you can make some caramel slices. You need to grab almond meal, vanilla protein powder, rice malt syrup, coconut oil, peanut butter, and dark chocolate, did you understand that?”

“Yes chef!”

“Okay good. It needs to go in the fridge, and then you can work on the strawberry lemon scones and then when i'm working on the tiramisu you can work on the orange loaf.”

“You’re telling me that when i rock up before my girlfriend officially starts work to hang out with her, all that happens if I have to do unpaid work.”

“Well i can’t pay you a f1 driver wage, because i can’t afford it and also you are not an f1 driver equivalent baker. I don’t even know if it’s worth giving you these ingredients for fear that I cannot sell what you make.”

---

“Okay, welcome back to pan y amor, as you know we in Cogollo, are massive f1 fans, so we have made some pumpkin cream cheese muffins to celebrate Fernando’s 33rd win. We had a little birdy tell us that this was his favourite flavour, so here’s how we make it, as always the full recipe will be on our blog y si quieres ver esta receta en español, ve a nuestro perfil, donde repasamos exactamente la misma receta, pero en español, para que todos nuestros fans de habla hispana también puedan seguirla. We’ve started this recipe by preheating the oven to 175 degrees celsius, which is 350 degrees fahrenheit for our American fans. 

And as my boyfriend gets in the way, the pumpkin cream cheese muffins are gonna be made slower. He loves this flavour so he’d better get out of my way so I can make the muffins, si, comprendo?”

“Comprendo, capitan!”

Bien, bienvenido de nuevo a pan y amor, como ya sabéis, en Cogollo somos grandes fans de la F1, así que hemos preparado unas magdalenas de calabaza y queso crema para celebrar la victoria número 33 de Fernando. Un pajarito nos dijo que este era su sabor favorito, así que así es como lo preparamos, como siempre la receta completa estará en nuestro blog and if you want to see this recipe in english, go to our profile, where we run through the exact same recipe, but in english, so all our english speaking fans can also follow. Comenzamos esta receta precalentando el horno a 175 grados centígrados.’

'Okay call me delusional, but was that Fernando in this tiktok?'

'Why is fernando voicing a random bakery’s tiktoks?'

'this bakery is in his home town, so maybe he knows them'

'WHY IS THE BAKERY OWNER SO PRETTY'

---

i am going to apologise now because I doubt this made sense :)

taglist: @leosxrealm, @pear-1206, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3

[bloodycyrano]

K, so I'm in a depressive episode, and I'm craving chocolate. Nobody probably cares, but here's what type of chocolate members of Team Tadpole prefer and how I think they'd react to receiving it as a gift! This is purely headcannons, and I haven't been able to play the game in a few months, so if I get something wrong, don't be mad at me, lol.

Shadowheart: She absolutely adores dark chocolate, and she's absolutely one of those pretentious fuckers who hate milk chocolate, and take anything other than 90-100% cacao as an insult on their fucking bloodline. She does think that she's better than you for liking Dark chocolate- This does not change if she gets her 'good' ending.

If you bring her her favorite type of chocolate, she will not only be impressed but grateful. I feel like she probably has chronic migraines or something and would enjoy sharing it with you some late night with a bottle of wine and a charcuterie board. Probably making flower crowns or feeding animals in a meadow, basic cottagecore lesbian romance stuff. I could be wrong, I've never romanced Shadowheart, but it's just a gut feeling.

Karlach: Karlach likes milk chocolate best, and doesn't see the point in putting up with something bitter just because some people think it's 'better'. More than anything, it reminds her of her mums baking, back when she was a kid. Chocolate is expensive and hard to get your hands on, but by god when the holidays came around or her birthday, I feel like her mum would've baked her the best cookies or chocolate chip muffins after working extra hard to afford it.

Karlach would love whatever type of chocolate you gave her, but I think especially if you brought her hot chocolate or chocolate chip cookies/Muffins/etc, she might even tear up a little. After all, she hasn't had something like that since her mom died.

Wyll: Wyll is a proud enjoyer of chocolate in general, but actually seems to favor white chocolate and dark chocolate the best. He likes to enjoy the contrast in flavors.

I feel like Wyll would just be grateful to be given chocolates, and wouldn't care much what form they came in. He'd probably invite you to enjoy them alongside him, and simply spend time with one another. I do believe he loves dark hot chocolate with whipped cream, and would probably try to set up a day to go to his favorite cafe in baldurs gate for hot chocolate, to return the favor. It's a treat for him, too, since he hasn't been there since his father cast him out. It'll bring a wave of nostalgia, and maybe some unkind memories.. But he will feel happy to be there. Especially to be there with you. And maybe, it'll become a much more common thing.

Astarion: I feel like he prefers dark chocolate, if he's able to eat it at all (I don't remember how vampires work in DnD.)..

If he can't eat it, I feel like he'd miss it.. the simple things. Pleasures like imported chocolates. He might go on a monologue about things he enjoyed as a Mortal that he no longer can.-.. If he can, however, eat chocolate.. I think he'd be surprised. Surprised you thought of him, surprised you spent the money, surprised you wanted to give him anything at all. I think he'd be very happy, but he probably wouldn't want to show it. He'd brush it off with a sarcastic comment or something, yet still taking the mental note that if nobody else cared, at least you did.

Gale: Gale is the most pretentious motherfucker there is, are you kidding me? I think he, himself, loves milk chocolate and it's a major guilty pleasure, but he tells everyone it's dark chocolate. He doesn't shame anyone for their preference, but there comes an air of arrogance whenever he says he likes dark chocolate.

He will definitely be grateful no matter what type you give him, but if you give him milk chocolate and tell him you know it's his favorite? He might try to deny it at first, but his heart is beating a mile a fucking minute knowing that you've been observant enough to bring him his actual favorite type without making a big deal about it, or calling him a liar.

Lae’zel: Has never had chocolate before, and doesn't know why you're giving it to her. She does, however, adore white chocolate after you get her to try some. You'd assume she'd prefer dark, but she doesn't. She believes that if you're going to have a sweet, or a desert, it shouldn't be bitter because that defeats the purpose.

After you get her to try it the first time, she'll insist she doesn't like it or see the reason for it, but at any party or gathering or anything where there's chocolate? She's sampling the fuck out of that snack table, and hovering over the bowl of sweets like a dragon guarding a hoard of treasure. She actually really likes fancy chocolates and truffles. If you bring them to her while in an established relationship, she won't act very different, but she's very happy and feels very loved.

I might do Halsin, Jaheira, Minsc, and Minthara later. Idk.

[lupinsweater]

hey gorgeous! rly love your writing!!!!!!!! so, the thing is, im with a horrible (emphasis on horrible) throat inflammation, those that even swallowing saliva hurts and eating solid food makes you cry, you know. I would love to see how Remus would comfort me in this situation!

Hope your doing well, xoxooooo

hi love! i’m so sorry you aren’t feeling well😢 being sick is the worst, especially with a sore throat! we all need a remus to comfort us…i hope this helps you feel a little better!🤎

Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader 💌 1.3k words

♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡

It was a chilly autumn morning when you woke up with a weight in your chest and a terrible ache in your throat. The blankets on your bed were tangled around your legs, and your sheets were damp with cold sweat. The first swallow you took felt like sandpaper, dry and painful, as though you’d spent the night screaming or partying instead of sleeping. Your head felt heavy on your shoulders as you slowly propped yourself up and rubbed your eyes- a dull throb behind them warned you of an oncoming headache.

You groaned softly as you charmed some water into the glass on your bedside table, wincing at the rawness in your throat. It wasn’t the kind of sore throat that you could ignore, or the kind that would go away with your glass of water and a little more rest. This was something much worse; this was the kind that told you today was going to be long and uncomfortable. The last thing you needed right now was to be getting sick, but there wasn’t much you could do about it now. You knew classes would begin soon, and nervous to miss anything, you forced yourself out of bed, cleaning yourself up as best as you could before making your way down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

By the time you sat down at the Gryffindor table, your friends were already eating and the scratch in your throat had gotten worse. Sirius waved at you, and Remus turned to look in your direction as you slid into the seat next to him.

“Good morning,” Remus said, his smile soft and familiar. He offered you a mug of hot chocolate, which you accepted gratefully.

“Morning,” you replied, though your voice was rougher than usual. You cleared your throat, hoping it would pass quickly. Remus, however, noticed immediately- his brows furrowed as you took a sip from your mug, his gaze lingering on you.

“You okay?” he asked. His concern was always close to the surface with you. Not wanting to worry him, you gave him a small smile.

“Just a bit of a sore throat,” you murmured, helping yourself to a muffin as you drained your mug. “It’s really nothing.”

Remus didn’t look convinced, but he let it slide, though you could tell he was keeping a closer eye on you than usual as you finished your meal. He hovered behind you through the corridors on the way to class, and he asked clarifying questions during Charms when he noticed your face scrunch in confusion at one of the instructions.

As the morning went on, you found yourself talking less and less, each word starting to feel more painful than the last. Remus watched you quietly, his eyes flickering with concern, but he didn’t push. By the time you reached your last class of the morning, the scratch in your throat had turned into a deep ache. You did your best to ignore it, pushing through the lecture as best as you could, but your voice was starting to strain more than ever, and your head was pounding painfully. You could barely hear Professor McGonagall over the dull thudding in your ears.

When the bell rang, Remus was quick to pack his things up. He helped you gather your things and ushered you out the door. You’d never seen him this eager to get to lunch before- your stomach was growling, but you didn’t have much of an appetite. Remus dragged you up the stairs and towards Gryffindor tower, and you pulled back on him, frowning.

“Wait, wait. Where are we going? Don’t you want lunch?” You croaked, looking at him with confusion. You knew the full moon was coming up, and his appetite was always insatiable during that time of the month. Remus just shook his head, tugging on your arm gently. Exasperated, you followed, allowing him to guide you back to the common room and sit you down by the fire.

“Okay, what’s this about?” You said in a half-whisper, folding your arms over your chest as you sunk into the squashy armchair.

“You clearly aren’t feeling well, dove,” Remus said, giving you a pointed look. You sighed, bringing a hand up to massage your nose bridge to relieve some strain from your headache.

“I know I’m not,” you grumbled hoarsely, meeting his eyes reluctantly. “It’s not like I have a lot of options here, Rem. I can’t afford to miss class, and I have assignments to hand in. And you know how much I hate taking Pepperup Potions- I just can’t handle the steam coming out of my ears, it makes me feel all funny.”

“I’m not going to ask you to take a Pepperup Potion,” Remus said, his expression a mix between amusement and mild annoyance. “Just wait here, okay? I’ll be right back.”

You knew he was just trying to look out for you, and you could already feel the tension leaving your shoulders as you soaked up the warmth from the fire. Remus raised an eyebrow at you, and you gave a small nod in return, knowing protesting wouldn’t do much anyways, as it was obvious he had already made up his mind.

You weren’t sure how long he was gone- you’d felt your eyelids begin to droop, and you were in a pre-sleep daze when he re-entered the common room, holding a tray of sandwiches and a teapot. Remus placed the food on the table in front of you, and shuffled over to the cabinet in the corner of the room and produced some plates and teacups, which he brought back over to you. He poured some tea into the teacup, then placed it in your hands, brushing some hair away from your face and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead that made you feel pleasantly warm.

“Here, drink this, dove. Honey and lemon. It will help,” he said, putting a few sandwiches on a place and setting it in front of you. You sat up blearily, taking slow sips of the tea. It really did feel soothing on your throat.

Remus sat down beside you, and the two of you ate your sandwiches in silence. He refilled your teacup twice, watching you with worried eyes.

“You really should go rest,” he said finally, his tone gentle but serious. “Your throat is only going to get worse if you keep pushing it, and you look awfully tired.”

You opened your mouth, prepared to argue your case again, but Remus gave you a soft, knowing look that made you close it again.

“Don’t worry about classes. I’ll take notes for you and hand in your assignments,” he said reassuringly. “Just go rest for me, okay?”

There was no point in fighting it any more. You knew he was right, and the warmth in his voice made you feel like it was okay to let him help you, just this once. You nodded, unable to do much else, and Remus smiled tenderly at you.

“I’ll come check on you later,” he promised, watching you carefully as you stood up. There was something in the way that he was looking at you that made you feel at ease. It wasn’t just worry—it was something closer, warmer. Maybe you weren’t ready to name it yet, but it was there, in every small, thoughtful gesture, and in the way he said, “Take care of yourself, dove,” as you climbed the stairs up and out of sight.

As you made your way back to your dorm to rest, you couldn’t help but feel grateful—not just for the tea, but for the quiet way Remus always seemed to know how to take care of you, without you even having to ask.

[chthonic-cassandra]

Ooh I have a longer/more in depth question! What do you like about baking, and how did you get interested in baking? What kinds of things do you like to make?

This is a lovely question, thank you!

I started baking at 17, at a point when I was pretty significantly eating disordered and also knew next to nothing about how to prepare food of any kind. But in some part of me I was still pretty clear about loving baked goods, and also having high standards about them.

I tried making scones with a friend one afternoon and, much to my surprise, they came out startlingly pretty well. And that was the end for me.

Baking is I think my only hobby which involves physically making something, and that's definitely one of the things about it that I love. I love that it's such a sensorily engaging activity, I love that it's an area in which I can try things and mess up and also feel competent. I like practicing and getting better at it, I like dissecting what about a recipe worked and didn't work. I really like being able to bake things and share them with people. And I also just honestly really love sweets/baked goods and being able to make them for myself the way that I like them is a delight.

I like baking a lot of different things! My standards in which I feel most confident (and for which I've modified recipes so that they're pretty much my own) are scones and chocolate layer cake.

On a more general level, the categories of things I bake mostly frequently are mostly simple things: scones, brownies, and what Deb Perelman usefully calls everyday cakes. Also cookies, not quite as frequently.

When I have time for a more multi-step process, I try a lot of different recipes - fancier cakes, tarts/pies, baklava, yeasted desserts, meringues. I am very picky about muffins and only twice have really felt that I've gotten them right.

[iamleesi]

THE HUNTERS & THE SOLDIER

Pairing: Avenger! Bucky Barnes x OC! Avenger Reader

Summary: You and Bucky think there’s something the brothers are hiding. You and Dean go to investigate and let’s just say you leave the scene feeling worse than before.

Warnings: Mention of a missing person, mention of an alcoholic, creepy stuff.

Other: English isn’t my first language so I apologize for eventual mistakes. -> 18+ !!

-> Masterlist

-> Part two ; Part four

-> Investigation (03)

As the shrill sound of the alarm pierced silence of the morning, you groaned and reluctantly cracked open your eyes. God, if you were tired. You and Bucky had spent the whole previous night with Sam and Dean, talking about the case and getting to know each other a little better. It had been a bit awkward, though, because Bucky didn’t even try to look interested and you weren’t really the social butterfly either.

But those two? Dean was about as social as a dead snake and Sam… at least Sam tried. But it was kind of hard considering the evident fight the two brothers had going on, whatever the reason was.

Tossing aside the sheets, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, your feet meeting the cold hardwood floor. The sunlight filtered through the curtains and you lazily rubbed your eyes and got up, walking towards the bathroom to take a quick shower.

You didn’t sleep much last night, as your mind kept reminding you of the case you were working on. You had dealt with Hydra-related missions before, but never like this. And for some reason, this time you felt a shiver run down your spine every time you thought about it.

You walked downstairs all refreshed, even if you wouldn’t be opposite to hop into bed once again, and the scent of coffee filled the rooms. You figured it must have been Bucky, since the spot on the couch where he slept on last night was empty. He had refused to sleep in the same bed as you and, honestly, you didn’t comply much. No reason to make the situation more awkward than it already was.

As you walked into the kitchen, your eyes immediately fell on Bucky who was engrossed in the files of the case spread out on the table.

You cleared your throat, breaking the silence as you sat down a few seats away from him. “Morning.”

Bucky glanced up, almost as if he didn’t even hear you walk in. But you know he did, he was just not acknowledging you. “Took you long enough.” He muttered.

You rolled your eyes as you poured yourself some coffee, frowning when you noticed some muffins on the table as well. “Who are those from?”

“I bought them this morning.” He grunted. “As a sweet husband buying breakfast for his wife.”

“Mrs Barnes appreciates.” You mocked him, as you didn’t think twice about eating one of those delicious muffins. You were starving without even realizing. “Anything new?” You asked, referring to the files.

“No.” He simply said. “But I think those two are hiding something.” He admitted, and that made you frown.

“Who? Sam and Dean?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, his eyes finding yours. “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice their behavior yesterday. They’re also related, Fury never sends siblings on a mission together since it could compromise the whole thing if feelings are involved.”

“I did notice, that’s why I called Fury.” You said. “He told me they’re good in what they do and that he had no other options.”

“Sounds weird.” He muttered.

“Very. But Fury knows what he’s doing, so… let’s just go with the flow.” You shrugged, biting the chocolate muffin. “Mrs Barnes would also love some pizza tonight.” You hinted, smirking at his annoyed expression.

“Eat that quickly because Dean is taking you on a trip today.” He rolled his eyes at you, getting up. “Should be here anytime now, I met him early this morning.”

“Uh?”

“He insisted on taking you to interrogate Cassandra’s family today, the nurse. See if you can find a lead or something.” He explained.

“Wasn’t I supposed to be the stay at home wife?” You raises a brown but didn’t complain. You could never complain if it meant trying to solve this case and go back home as soon as possible.

“Change of plans.”

“And you? What are you doing today?” You inquired. Knowing him, he’d never stay at home doing nothing.

“Sam’s gonna come over. There are a few files of missing people we need to look at.”

* * * *

You and Dean stood in front Cassandra’s parents’ house, both of you dressed formally for this. He gave you a fake badge that you had no idea how he got, but didn’t pry as it wasn’t the right time. He adjusted his tie, before turning to look at you. “Ready?” His voice was low, and he wanted to make sure you both were on the same page before starting.

Your nod was all he needed before he ran the bell, the sound was heard even from the outside.

It didn’t take long for someone to open the door, and soon enough it cracked open revealing Mrs Miller’s tear-streaked face. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her expression a mix of grief and suspicion.

“What do you want?” She snapped looking mostly at you rather than him, her voice full of bitterness.

Dean flashed his badge and the action reminded you to do the same, his expression remained stoic mirroring your own. “Mrs Miller, we’re the with the FBI. We need to ask you a few questions about your daughter.”

“Stepdaughter.” She clarified. The woman’s gaze flickered between the both of you, her demeanor was guarded which was rather suspicious. Or maybe it was just grief and she wanted to be left alone, you didn’t know. “I’ve already told the police everything I know. I don’t have time for this.”

You stepped forward as soon as you understood that she was about to close the door. “We understand this is a difficult time for you, Mrs Miller, but we’re here to know more about Cassandra. We want to bring her home.”

“Just…” The woman hesitated for a moment before reluctantly stepping aside, allowing you and Dean to walk inside. “Be quick.”

As you and him stepped over the threshold, you took your time to see your surrounding which weren’t exactly what you expected. Inside, the atmosphere was stagnant. You could see that all the windows in your sight were locked and dusty, which is something you didn’t notice from the outside.

At each step you took towards the living room, the flower beneath your weight cracked. The furniture was dusty, clearly untouched in a long, long time and the cobwebs hung from the ceiling - they almost occupied every angle of the house. The thing that really made you shiver were those pictures hanged on the walls.

The faces of Cassandra’s family starred back at you, their eyes seemed cold and lifeless. There was something off about the way they were arranged, but you couldn’t wrap your head around what it was.

You and Dean sat down onto the worn couch of the dusty living room, the tension could be cut with a knife. Mrs Miller hovered nearby, her movements seemed stiff and unnatural like a marionette being pulled by invisible strings.

On one side, you could understand. This woman had lost her only daughter just a few days ago - even if there were no proof she was dead, both you and Dean suspected it and maybe she thought so too.

Still, you knew something wasn’t quite right with the oldest woman.

Dean’s voice cut through the silence and the tense atmosphere as he began to ask questions about Cassandra’s whereabouts, his tone firm yet empathetic. “Can you tell us about Cassandra’s routine? Did she mention anything unusual happening to her the days before she went missing?” 

Mrs Miller shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her eyes flickering for the slightest moment towards the staircase. “She - she was always so independent. She didn’t have - she didn’t tell me much about her comings and goings.” Not once she met his eyes. Nor yours. “She - she had - she had an ex boyfriend I think.”

You saw it then. There was a guardedness in her response, as if she was scared to say the wrong thing and spill too much information.

“Can you think of anyone who wanted to harm Cassandra in anyway?” You inquired, your eyes fixed solely on her. “Maybe this ex boyfriend of hers?“

Mrs Miller’s gaze shifted nervously between you and the man at your side, but when you spoke up her eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent a chill down your spine. Nothing ever scared you, but this somehow felt almost supernatural. “Adam was - is - was - an alcoholic. Yes, yes he is an alcoholic.”

“Can you tell us more about their relationship?” You asked, trying to keep your tone neutral.

Mrs Miller’s lips tightened, her eyes staring into yours - she seemed to despise you. She looked at Dean normally, but whenever she turned to look at you it felt like she wanted to come for your neck. “Why do you want to know about - about Adam? What does he have to do with any of this - leave him alone! Please leave him alone!”

“Mrs Miller, we’re not accusing anyone. We just want to know more about Cassandra.” Dean said softly, trying to calm her down.

Her eyes widened, her breath coming in shallow gasps. “She - she was always so careful. Always looked over her shoulders - oh, he needs to eat, do you mind letting him eat?” She started to ramble incoherent words after wards, which left both you and Dean momentarily speechless. “He needs to eat now - it’s the voices. Always whispering - he needs to eat. Always - I need to feed him… where’s my husband? My husband, where’s my husband?”

“It’s best if we leave, Dean.” You whispered as Mrs Miller’s sanity became thinner by the second.

The look she gave you felt almost threatening, as if you had asked something way too personal. “No. He needs to eat.” She said sternly. “Everyone in this family loved her. Everyone. Everyone.” She started to nervously pinch her arm, and you wondered if perhaps you asked the wrong thing. “Everyone loved her.” She repeated again, as if it was a mantra.

Dean was about to say something when you all heard a sudden noise from upstairs, a sharp bang that reverberated through the quiet house. It happened once, then twice and then it transformed to something that you associated with someone scratching wood.

“We should take a look upstairs.” Dean said, keeping his voice slow and steady considering that woman seemed to be getting worse by the second.

In fact, without any of you two saying another word, her composure began to crack; her breathing became more ragged and erratic. Then, without you could comprehend what the fuck was going on, she erupted into a fit of hysterical laughter, the sound echoing off the walls like a sinister symphony.

Before you or Dean could react, Mrs Miller rose to her feet in an instant, her movements were frenetic and unpredictable. “You can’t help her! No one can!” Her laugh intensified if possible.

You wish to say you never assisted to something like this before, but you’d lie. Your composure in front of her meltdown was something that would leave people questioning whether you were sane yourself or not.

“Mrs Mil-”

The woman cut him off in an instant. “You need to leave! You can’t help her!” She yelled, her voice echoing through the house and the cracks on the walls.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Dean wanting to interviene but you were quick to grab his arm. “Dean.” You warned, your voice low as the woman started to throw things around. “Let’s go.”

With one last glance at the crazy woman before you, Dean nodded - to your surprise, he had that same look on your face. He didn’t seem fazed by what was happening which left you with a few questions. Together you made your way to the door with Mrs Miller hysterical screams echoing in your ears. 

You two stepped out of there closing the door behind you. Without a word you walked towards his car, but you suddenly stopped in your tracks - slowly, almost as if you felt someone watching you, you turned around again. Your eyes drifted to the upstairs window and your blood ran cold.

In the dim light, a shadowy figure loomed from behind the window; it’s form distorted and twisted. It seemed to sway ominously as if taunting you from the darkness. That thing stared back at you with those empty eyes - literally empty eyes, and your legs refused to move.

Dean followed your gaze, his jaw clenched. “It’s not my imagination, is it?” He muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“No.” You answered, your voice not louder than his.

You felt him grab your arm, and the next thing you knew is that he pulled you inside the car and drove away from the house - and you swore you were still feeling those empty eyes on you even when you were far away from it.

[stabbyfoxandrew]

Hi Aerie! I hope this week doesn’t suck so bad.

Can I have some Mer Roadtrip or Demon Neil please?

@aftgphoenix

WIP Wednesday (11/13) | Mer Roadtrip AU (Part 92)

"Neil Josten," Neil says softly, turning it over in his mind and seeing how it feels on his tongue. It seems like it would be a decent name. Just random enough to be random, to belong to anyone. If Josten actually is a last name...

"Have we got a winner?"

"I think so." Neil nods, then pulls out his notepad to scribble it down. He practices writing it a couple times, then signing it.

"A-ha!" Andrew snaps his fingers suddenly. "Now I remember where I've heard it. 'Jostens' is a brand that makes school stuff. Uh, yearbooks, class rings, all that junk. They made them at my school anyway."

"So it's a name?"

"Most likely." Andrew pulls out his phone and thumbs a few keys before squinting at the screen. "Yeah, a name."

"I thought we didn't have... internet service." Neil says, gesturing to Andrew's hand.

"We don't. The hotel has wi-fi. I'm shocked this thing can connect to it, but alas we live in truly incredible times." Andrew shoves a heavily laden plate toward him. "Neil Abram Josten, are you going to eat breakfast or not?"

"Yeah, yeah." Neil moves to grab his plate and hops up onto the desk to eat. Josten. Neil smiles. He thinks he likes that.

"You think I should keep Abram in the middle?" He asks as he picks up the unholy sandwich Andrew made him. It's a horrible mishmash, a leaning tower of breakfast. But Neil will eat anything.

"It's yours, why wouldn't you keep it." Andrew says, giving him a look. Neil supposes he has a point. He takes a bite of his breakfast sandwich and is surprised.

"Hey, not bad."

"Yes, I'm a genius," Andrew says with a big, pointy-toothed grin. "Too bad there was no syrup. That would've been great."

Neil hums an agreement and the two of them eat breakfast together before packing up all their things and watching TV until it's nearly time to check out. Neil returns the key and when he meets Andrew at the car, the other boy has procured another half dozen muffins and a paper plate piled with chocolate chip cookies.

"Where did you..."

"The dining room," Andrew answers from the passenger seat. "They left it unguarded. Not my fault. They should get better security in there." He crams an entire cookie into his mouth and grimaces before opening his door to spit it on onto the blacktop. "Oatmeal raisin. Disgusting."

"That's what you get for stealing."

"Karma isn't real, Neil. Neither is the tooth fairy, in case you're wondering." Andrew picks up another cookie and gives it a long look. Neil starts the car.

"If you get another bad cookie you have to eat it, can't be flinging the door open on the highway."

"Watch me." Andrew says. Neil presses a button on the door panel to lock all the doors. After giving him an incredulous look, Andrew finds the same button on his door and unlocks them again. "Stalemate."

"Andrew—"

[hearts4golbach]

The Night Shift.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

part 18.

"What the hell happened to your head, child?" the man asked as he walked up to the counter.

my hand flew to the stitches on my head, "i fell, no biggie." i smiled, "what can i get you, sir?"

he raised his eyebrow, "Can i just get a chocolate muffin, please?"

"coming right up." i turned my back to him as i went to the case with other baked goods.

the gash in my forehead has begun to look better and hurt less. my crust around it had eventually disappeared, and the deep cut was finally healing. i hadn't realized until Johnnie pointed it out the other day as we were sitting in the living room eating takeout. i had become more confident, not feeling as embarrassed with the stitches in my head.

as i prepared the small white paper bag, the bell rang as someone walked in. "Welcome," i greeted, not turning to see who it was.

"Hey," Johnnies tired voice replied. my mood brightened immediately, putting a smile on my face.

whenever i turned back to the man to give him his muffin, my gaze switched to Johnnie for a split second. he was holding a small bouquet containing 3 red roses. my heart skipped a beat as i became more curious. the man paid for his muffin, thanked me, and left.

Johnnie walked up to the counter, handing me the flowers. "i know this is probably a bad time," he grinned, a blush growing on his face, "but i couldn't find a better time before Valentine's Day."

i held the flowers, looking down at them with happy tears forming in my eyes. i looked back at Johnnie, "You don't understand how much this means to me."

"Well, i was wondering if you wanted to go on a date," he smiled softly, "you know, for Valentine's Day."

"Are you asking me to be your valentine?" i teased. i felt like i had just run a marathon and finally got water, like all of my worries related to Johnnie had disappeared.

"Maybe." he joked.

"Of course," i set the flowers down next to my coat and purse. i walked around the counter and hugged Johnnie tight, not wanting to let go. he rubbed my back gently as i felt his heart beating fast. it eventually slowed, and i pulled away.

i walked into the house quietly, making sure not to wake Mama Bear. i walked into johnnies room, wondering why he wasn't in bed. i sat on the bed, tossing my bag and apron on the floor next to me. i quickly changed into basketball shorts and the same shirt he had given me all those nights ago.

i picked up the flowers off of the desk and walked into the kitchen. i searched for a vase, eventually finding a small, cylindrical one. it was perfecy for the roses. i cut the stems diagonally and put them in the water.

after i set them on the desk, out of the view of his streaming camera, i sat back down on the bed and pulled out my phone.

the bedroom door creaked open, revealing johnnie. "Hey, jo-" i stopped mid sentence, my eyes scanning over his body. he had a stained white towel wrapped around his waist, simultaneously catching the water dripping down off of his hair onto his torso. it was the first time i had seen him without some sort of makeup. i took an extra second to admire his face.

"shit, sorry. i didn't know you were home yet." he scrambled to get his clothes before going back to the bathroom. i stayed silent.

home. i repeated the word over in my mind. was i overthinking it, or does he really think this is my home now, too?

[alpineshift]

03 for NicoJack please :)

most certainly 🥰

[3] a tiny village bakery, the shelves stocked with freshly baked goods

"I don't like this."

Beside him, crouching at shelf level and carefully arranging the tray of sweet apple hand pies and chocolate banana muffins, Luca snorts.

"Haven't been hearing that one all week," he says sarcastically, and Nico nudges his older brother with his knee.

"I'm being serious," he complains. "Why aren't you more concerned about this? This is--this is direct competition!"

Luca straightens and gives Nico a very bored look.

"They're a coffee shop, Nicky. Their focus is coffee. Which is pretty good, by the way, if you ever bothered to go over and try. Which I also noticed, you haven't."

Nico doesn't pout, but it's a near thing. A Hughes Cup of Coffee has been the bane of his existence ever since they soft launched a month ago, unveiling a glossy red and white sign and a sleek, upscale interior. Apparently they're a family business too--three brothers, from what Nina reported when she stopped by to say hi.

(Fraternizing with the enemy, Nico had complained. Locking them down on the rent control agreement before the landlords could draw blood, Nina volleyed back.)

Nico should really be in the kitchen, focusing on his updated lemon cream tart recipe (always a hit with the local book club), but he just can't stop scowling at the coffee shop. Sure, it smells extra heavenly down their street and Nico has to admit the custom window lettering is pretty cool, and he's seen one of the brothers (one of the younger ones? with nice blue eyes and wavy honey-brown hair, probably?) try to wave at him from behind the cash once, but it's the principle of the thing.

"I bet you they buy the cheap mass-marketed stuff from the city to go with their drinks," he grumbles instead, slipping back into the kitchen.

"You wouldn't know, since you've never visited!" Luca hollers back.

He feels better once he falls into the comforting baking process. The kitchen is a delightful mess, the air filled with sweetness and warmth and spice and citrus. It's hot back here, and Nico's shed his sweater within minutes, down to his usual t-shirt and apron ensemble as he works. Luca pokes his head in at some point and says he has to run to the bank for change, but it's past rush hour anyway. He's humming along to the radio and he's just popped the last tray of blueberry scones into the oven when he hears the door open.

"Coming!" he calls, and wiping his hands down as he walks into the front. "How can I--"

He stops short. It's one of the Hughes brothers, the one who'd tried to wave at him, hovering nervously at the counter. When he catches sight of Nico, he raises his hand to wave again, then blushes and quickly puts it back down.

"Hey. Um. Hi. Nico, right? I'm one of the owners and baristas across the street--I'm Jack, my brothers and I just opened our shop. Just, uh, thought I'd come over to say hi. And, um, bring some coffee for you and your siblings."

He raises a tray housing three large takeaway cups. Scrawled on the lids are the letters L and N and another one with N, but there's a sticker of a seal on it.

"You and Nina have the same letter," Jack says sheepishly. "But she told me what your favourite animal was. And that you liked cappuccinos, which, luckily, is my specialty. So...these are for you."

"Oh," Nico croaks, then hurries to take the tray, because his mother raised him well and now that he's actually meeting Jack for the first time--wow. Wow.

(Is there a principle to follow when his neighbourhood barista is cute as hell and kind as hell and absolutely Nico's type?)

"Thank you," Nico manages, sincerely. "Uh--can I get you anything? What do you and your brothers like to eat? I can put together a sample box for you."

"Actually," Jack says, rather hopefully, "Whatever you've got baking back there smells fucking incredible. Literally makes me think of Thanksgiving dinner at home."

"Oh--our pumpkin cinnamon loafs," Nico says, and grins, chest warming with pride. "My mama's secret recipe. You want to come around and check it out? It's literally fresh out of the oven."

Jack beams. "I'd love to."

it’s almost hockey season again! send me a jacknico prompt?

[jaeyongneo]

[MDNI] Somewhere Along The Lines by jaeyongneo

haechan x fem!reader

"I was really hoping that you'd love me back." In which Haechan, a player, falls for y/n, who's an emotionally unavailable girl. What could possibly go wrong?

tw: mentions of domestic abuse (from y/n's past), smut in some chapters/scenes. vulgarities might be an emotionally dark fic to some, not comfy don't read! my fic is NOT a depiction of their real life characters, this fic is solely for entertainment purposes.

Chapter 1

Haechan didn't know what love is. Relationships? Fuck that. All he cared about was money, partying and sex. He had it all, nice house, nice cars, pretty girls. Very cliché. All this changed when Haechan walked into a café when he was hungover. He desperately needed a cup of iced americano.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Can I get an iced americano? Make it quick, I'm having a really bad headache."

"Okay. Um, did you want anything to eat"

Haechan began to get agitated. Does this girl not understand when he said 'make it quick'….? Just when he was about to yell at her, he took the time to study her face. He suddenly felt bad. Haechan never feels bad. He didn't know why he found the girl adorable too.

"U-uh, what-what's good?"

"The chocolate muffins are fresh, I just made them."

"O-oh I'll get that then."

Haechan NEVER stutters. Why was he acting like such a fool?

"You don't have to pay, its my shop anyways."

"Wh-what?"

"Yeah, you should take a seat. You don't look too good."

Haechan walked towards the nearest table and slowly lowered himself into the chair, the wood creaking beneath him. His hand, still trembling slightly from the remnants of his hangover. Haechan silently studied y/n as she moved around the cafè’s counter with ease. There was something about her presence that calmed the chaos in his mind, the subtle confidence she exuded making him feel more grounded despite the pounding he had headache and his hazy thoughts.

Y/N approached the table Haechan was at and served him his coffee and muffin. He brought the coffee to his lips, the bitterness almost cutting through the fog in his mind. It was the perfect balance of strength and sweetness — exactly what he needed, though he was too proud to admit it aloud.

"You’re welcome," Y/N’s voice broke through his trance, light and effortless as she leaned against the counter, watching him curiously. "I’ll make sure to get you something to actually eat when you’re feeling better."

His eyes flickered up to meet hers, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "Thanks," he mumbled, the word barely escaping his lips. It felt almost too intimate, too personal, and yet he couldn’t look away.

Y/N’s smile softened. "No need to thank me. Just take care of yourself. You look like you could use a good rest. You’re hungover, no?”

Haechan laughed softly, the sound tinged with an awkwardness he couldn’t hide. "Yeah," it’s normal.” he admitted. He rubbed his temples, trying to focus on her words instead of the dull ache inside his skull.

She nodded knowingly. "A bit of a rough night, huh?" She didn't press further, but the way she tilted her head and met his eyes told him she understood more than he let on. There was something about the way she looked at him — careful, almost protective It made his heart race in a way he wasn't ready to acknowledge. Or maybe, he was just delusional. They just met and there’s no way Haechan is developing such an intense crush on Y/N.

"Something like that," he said, setting the cup down, his hand still lingering on the cold ceramic as he caught his breath. "You run this place, huh?"

Y/N shrugged casually, wiping her hands on her apron. "Yeah. It’s my cafè, but things haven’t been going great here. But it’s alright i guess, all that matters is love and kindness”She grinned. "You can tell by the coffee, right?"

Haechan nodded.

“I guess it’s my fault, I’ve been giving out free meals and drinks to those in need. Forgot that I wasn’t doing good myself. I tend to think with my heart and not my head.” Y/N added.

For a moment, there was a silence between them, comfortable and unspoken. Haechan felt an unfamiliar sense of ease, something that made the world outside the café seem distant and unimportant. The steady hum of the coffee machine, the low murmur of conversation, and her presence all seemed to create a small bubble, shielding him from the hangover and his usual nonchalant energy.

“But it’s cozy though. Feels like home.” Haechan said. Y/N hummed.

"It’s 9am, people are usually rushing for work. Does it always get this quiet in here? No one gets anything before work?” he asked, the question slipping out before he could second-guess it.

Y/N chuckled, her eyes never left his face. "Oh, it’s always busy. But somehow, since you’re here, it’s quiet. I’m not complaining though, I hate interacting with people.” She chuckled. "Well anyways, what’s your story? What got you so hungover?” she continued.

Haechan scratched the back of his head, trying to figure out how to answer. "I guess I partied too hard. Drank too much." He looked down at the coffee, his fingers tracing the rim.

Y/N’s smile softened again, like she could see straight through him. Something told her he was tired or just frustrated with life or himself. “You can stay as long as you’d like, since you know, it’s like home?”

Haechan’s eyes brightened up. The quiet laughter in the air, the sound of coffee brewing, and the soft glint in her eyes made him feel like maybe he didn’t need to explain himself after all. Maybe, just for now, it was enough to sit in silence and let the warmth of the café and her fill the empty space he’d been carrying with him all morning.

And he felt something brewing in his heart.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #242

I got to bed relatively on time last night. I still woke up groggy as heck, because that is the nature of sleep deprivation injuries; it'll be at least a week or two before my brain fully recovers; such is the nature of the brain cleaning cycle. Oh well.

Nonetheless, I had a lot of fun at work today! There was, along with Mi, Ma, and I, another lady named Tr, and the whole day was filled with laughter and delightful banter as we did our various tasks; it was wonderful!

I'm always amazed at how quickly the time passes while I'm there. I'm always busy, always moving from one task to the next, always moving around, so the four hours pass by in a flash, and I'm always just a little sad when it's time to go home.

They asked me to make muffins again today, and with the practice I got from my first time doing it, I was a lot better at it this time! I even found a more efficient way of filling and leveling off the muffin scoop, and so I was able to fill the muffin tin a lot more quickly than last time, and with far more consistency! The muffin batter was then baked. Here they are in the giant walk-in oven; it's not a great picture, I know, but I couldn't really do anything about the glare...

...And here are the results of my handiwork:

...Aren't they beautiful? Someone's gonna go home with a box of these, and that makes me really happy!

I also put muffins that were previously baked into boxes. Each of these shelves have 6 boxes that contain 4 muffins each. And I filled even more shelves than these today:

...We have them in so many different flavors! We've got pistachio, chocolate, pumpkin, banana-nut, apple cinnamon, corn, and so many more. The ones I baked were cranberry muffins. They're not my favorite, but they're someone's favorite, and that makes me feel really glad.

I like this job. I like the repetitive certainty of the routine tasks. I like the diligence and precision of a job well done. I like knowing that my manager is delighted to watch me learn, and is proud of the efficiency and conscientiousness with which I work. I like knowing that I will only continue to improve. I like knowing that I am working with others towards a shared purpose. I like knowing that I am capable of improving the processes that are used in service to that purpose. And I like knowing that someone is gonna go home with a box of delicious things that were wrought from my own hands.

J requested that I get sandwich supplies on the way home, so I did. I got deli sliced chicken, roast beef, genoa salami, and cheese, along with a loaf of seeded rye bread. With these, I made a sandwich!!! And I put truffle mayo on it, because why not!

Either it was a sandwich of epic awesomeness, or I was just hungry. Either way, it was awesome and I loved it!! I wish I could make one for you!

Hey, Sephiroth? What kind of sandwiches do you like, anyway? What kind of toppings and dressings do you like to put on them? I wonder...

In any case, we went to a birthday party shortly after that. Our friend Mer's birthday was today, and so she decided to gather up a bunch of her friends to eat tasty snacks and play board games! It's nice to know that J and I are on the list of people she considers friends! We played a card game called Boss Monster; basically you're the monster ruler of your very own dungeon that you build out of cards that represent rooms! I ended up getting an entity called, uh... Seducia... I guess. Hahahaha!

But I didn't really have much interest in killing adventurers or winning the game. I just built a party dungeon. I had a ballroom, and a menagerie of rescued critters, and a room that makes people silly, a room with an all-seeing eye, and a room with a lich dragon who is basically an interior designer! I had a cleric come by to try to kill me, because presumably, he thought my entity was too sexy to live (typical...), but he didn't succeed.

I like to think that instead of dying in my "dungeon", he simply changed his mind and decided that trying to kill me is silly, so instead he went to the ballroom and got a sandwich! Sandwiches are sensible. Violence is not. And then I like to think that he decided my dungeon is so awesome that he didn't wanna go home. Because the outside world is a cold and terrible place devoid of sandwiches!!! Or at least, devoid of sandwiches that are as good as the ones I can make!!! Ahahahaha~!!

The whole game was very silly, but fun. I was super sleepy at the end of it, though, so I sat in a recliner for the rest of the evening. I ended up falling asleep in it, even though I didn't mean to. I'm still pretty groggy, even after a number of hours of being home. Suppose I should at least try to go to bed relatively on time...

...In the spirit of that, I guess I'll end today's letter here.

Hey, Sephiroth? Are you staying safe where you are? If you're not, please try a little harder, okay? I don't want to have to endure your absence. I'm not sure I'd be capable of withstanding such a thing.

I love you. And I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

[minibeth]

soon you’ll get better (but it’s chronic) part 1

fandom: percy jackson

characters: Nico, Percy, Annabeth

about: Nico has a sudden onset of a chronic illness and struggles to get a diagnosis

summary: Nico faints in the dining pavilion

word count: 632

notes: post TLO, eventual solangelo

ao3 link: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/

Nico di Angelo knows that something is wrong with him.

Why won’t anyone listen?

Nico was used to feeling fatigued. Shadow traveling would leave him exhausted, and usually, he would sleep for a day or two, and wake up feeling right as rain. Until one day, when he got out of bed and felt his heart start racing. Okay. He was okay. He was probably just drained from using shadow travel to run an errand for Chiron the other day. Nico started to get ready to walk over to the dining pavilion and meet Annabeth, who had left a note for when he got back asking to talk to him. He walked across his cabin to the ornate dresser that held his clothes. However, after a few steps he stumbled, feeling his vision blur for a moment. That’s strange. Nico never continued to feel woozy after he’d slept and replenished his strength.

Nico sorted through his drawers before reaching down to pick up the hoodie he’d worn the previous day off the floor. When he stood up again, his head swam. He could hear his heart thumping loudly in his ear. Geez, I get it, you can slow down now. Nico slumped to the floor and felt his wrist at his pulse point. He wasn’t exactly a child of Apollo, but Nico was pretty sure that his heart wasn’t supposed to beat that fast. Nico grabbed a half-empty water bottle from his nightstand, drinking the remaining water in two large gulps. He wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his hoodie and stood up slowly, steadying himself before walking out of the cabin. I’ll take a nap after breakfast. I just have to make it through breakfast.

When he got to the dining pavilion, Nico noticed Percy waving at him from a table, where Annabeth sat next to him. Nico slid onto the bench across from them, noticing that the couple had already filled their plates.

“So, Nico, I was thinking that you could help me with some renovation ideas I have for Cabin 13. Could you come by after we eat and give some blueprints the go-ahead?” Annabeth glanced at him as she methodically buttered her toast.

Nico blinked in surprise, then quickly worked to keep his face from showing any disappointment. “Uh, yeah, I can do that.” There goes my nap. Nico loved her, but Annabeth had a talent for making 5 minutes turn into 5 hours when she was talking about her designs.

Percy groaned in faux irritation. “She’s been working on those blueprints for forever.” He took a bite of his blueberry muffin and shook his head. “I’m losing my girlfriend to your open floor plan.”

Annabeth punched his arm. “That’s not true, Seaweed Brain! Are we or are we not having a movie night tonight? And don’t talk with your mouth full in front of my client! It’s very rude.” She winked at Nico, who gave a weak smile. “You’d better hurry if you want some food. I saw Travis and Connor heading over there, and they looked like they had something up their sleeves. Literally.”

Nico never had a large appetite, especially after shadow traveling, so he just willed his goblet to fill with chocolate milk and held it up to show Annabeth. “I think I’m okay with this. I’m probably too late to avoid bugs in my eggs, anyway.” Annabeth’s brow furrowed slightly, but she didn’t say anything.

Nico drank his milk and waited for Annabeth to finish, so they could walk together to Cabin 6. When she and Percy got up, he swung his legs over the bench and stood up quickly. That was a mistake. Nico lost his footing and stumbled, gripping tightly onto the picnic table for support. His heart was pounding again, faster now. Is this what a heart attack feels like? His airway wasn’t obstructed, but he could hear himself gasping for breath. Nico felt like he was having an out-of-body experience, watching himself struggle to stay upright. As if on cue, his legs buckled, and he fell back, falling into someone. Nico struggled to keep his eyes open as he heard voices talking over each other, but was unable to distinguish what was being said. He could feel his eyelids fluttering as his head lolled back. Someone started shaking him and saying something, but Nico ignored it as his consciousness quickly faded. One little nap wouldn’t hurt. And he was so…so…tired.

[ink-fireplace-coffee]

Baking: A short story

TWs: food mention, mentions of religious symbolism, mentions of killing, killers and crime.

---

The smell of brown sugar lingered in the air like a crime scene. Nothing that indicated chaos had ensued, nothing that could point out the strength of my arm as I had mixed eggs and flour, the angry tears that had threatened to drop into the dough and make it salty, a notion that would have only made me madder and angrier.

There was no flour scattered over the table, for I had already cleaned it up, and no butter on the counter softened and ready to be used as sacrifice anymore. My mother used to say that cleaning is almost as important as baking. Cleaning as one baked was another form of release, I found out. I also discovered in between the creativity of baking cookies, amid lemon pies with burnt merengue and in the heart of blueberry muffins, that baking meant order. It meant control. Something I desperately craved and looked for every time it escaped the reach of my fingers in an eternal chase.

When the victims of this therapeutic release finally left the oven (this time they were brownies, and the broken flaky surface with the rich and decadent look of the chocolate was containing my anger and frustration), I felt the knot inside my chest loosen up. I left the vessel of all my negative emotions over the kitchen counter, not even bothering to look at them except for stabbing the middle with a toothpick and seeing it come clean.

Baking felt like order and in some way, I was feeling a cold and detached stance, looking at my creation as it cooled as I think gods might look down on the mortals they create. It was also part of the baking process, the feeling of disgust after everything was over and done with, of repulsion at the idea of having twisted something so humanly sickening as anger was and transforming it into something sweet and sugary most people seemed to associate with happiness.

Someone would always eat these sacrifices. Someone would always thank me for bringing the cookies I made when I had failed an important test, the muffins I baked while I cried from the frustration and anger of fighting with my friends over a stupid thing. And I loved how easy it was for them to take the treats from my hands. How easy it was to get rid of my negative feelings and use it for something good.

I often wonder if baking while happy would make it all taste different. None of what I have made so far has tasted as bitter as I was, nothing has ever tasted disgusting and abhorrent, or, at least, no one had told me so already.

The story would never change, it was a cycle. I studied in class that serial killers had a small chunk of time between victims called the “cooling-off period”. They did not find another victim, not because they knew it was risky, but because they had the fantasy of the replayed murder to satisfy that craving. I did not bake senselessly, it would be a waste of ingredients and time.

Baking was a therapy I could never refuse to find myself without. To kneel at the altar of everything I believed tarnished my soul and change it for a time in the kitchen, for good smells and better tastes.

I looked at the brownies again, cooling off on the counter. Another victim of feelings so big they would weigh me down and make me choke.