#ground gourmet coffee

[p0orbaby]

Lia wälti x surgeon reader , reader gets home after an exhausting day at work where she lost two patients as well as being over worked. All she wants is to crawl up and cry but Lia helps her by cute little gestures

TW: brief mentions of death

-

You’re exhausted. No, beyond exhausted. The kind of exhaustion that lives in your bones, in the tender ache behind your eyes, in the weight of your limbs as you drag yourself up the stairs to your flat. It’s been a brutal day. Two patients lost on the table, back-to-back surgeries, and a surgeon’s lounge that ran out of coffee by noon. You’re too tired to even feel angry about that last part, which, on any other day, would’ve been unforgivable.

All you want is to collapse onto the sofa, bury your face in a pillow, and let the weight of the day crush you into oblivion. You unlock the door, barely managing to toe off your shoes before Lia appears in the hallway.

“Hi, love,” she says, her voice soft, careful. She’s in joggers and an old hoodie, her hair up in a messy bun. She looks like the epitome of calm, a far cry from the tornado of chaos you feel inside.

“Hi,” you mumble, not trusting yourself to say more without crying.

Her eyes scan your face, taking in the dark circles, the droop of your shoulders, the way your scrubs are wrinkled like you’ve been wearing them for days (you basically have). “Bad day?”

You nod, biting your lip to keep it from trembling.

She steps closer, gently prying your bag from your hands and setting it down. “Okay,” she says, in that steady, grounding way of hers. “Shower first. Then food. Then we’ll talk, if you want”

You don’t argue. You don’t have the energy. She nudges you towards the bathroom, and you let her.

The hot water does wonders, even if it doesn’t fix everything. When you finally emerge, wrapped in one of the ridiculously fluffy towels Lia insisted on buying, she’s waiting with a plate of toast. Not a gourmet meal, but toast. Buttered just the way you like it. It’s the perfect balance of effort and comfort.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want a full meal,” she says, handing you the plate. “But I figured this was safe”

You nod, taking a bite and almost sighing at how good it tastes. Toast shouldn’t be this emotional, but here you are.

Lia settles next to you on the sofa, her hand resting lightly on your knee. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asks gently.

You shake your head, swallowing another bite. “Not yet”

“Okay.” She doesn’t push.

Instead, she leans over to the coffee table and picks up the remote. “I queued up your favourite episodes of Bake Off,” she says, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Figured you could use something soothing”

“Mary Berry era?” you ask, quirking an eyebrow.

“Of course. I’m not a heathen”

That gets a small laugh out of you, which feels like a victory. She hits play, and for the next hour, you sit together, watching Paul Hollywood destroy the hopes and dreams of amateur bakers.

At some point, she tucks you under her arm, her fingers threading through your damp hair. “You’re allowed to feel it, you know,” she murmurs. “The bad days. The losses. It doesn’t make you weak”

You nod against her chest, tears slipping out despite your best efforts. “I just feel like I should’ve done more”

“You did everything you could,” she says firmly, her voice steady like she’s anchoring you to reality. “And you’ll keep doing everything you can. That’s why you’re incredible”

You don’t say anything, but you curl closer, letting her warmth seep into you. For the first time all day, you feel a little lighter.

Later, as you drift off against her shoulder, she whispers, “Tomorrow will be better. But tonight, you’re mine”

[trashmouth-richie]

ᴴᴱᴬᵀᴱᴰ

CHAPTER 2: DOUBLE DOSED

HEATED

≛ modern!eddie x female reader x modern! steve

≛ summary: a week after being stranded on the side of the road with eddie and steve, you finally figure out what you’re going to do. Can the boys agree to what you have planned?

≛ THIS CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE FIC

≛ chapter warnings: MODERN AU, 18+ only I can’t be anymore clear about that, fuckgirl! reader vibes, Steve’s kind of a dickhead, oral m & f receiving and giving, mentions of birth control, reader gets eaten out by a girl, drug use, mention of alcohol, modern themes including texting, snapchat, iced coffee, crumbl cookie lmao etc, no y/n used, readers nickname is taff or taffy (bruh I hate using y/n catch me using any dumb nickname) Eddie picks reader up in a hug, real simpy Eddie behavior.

“I just don’t know Robin,” you explain, pulling literally at your hair from the root, “what should I do?” 

Ever since that day in the back of Wayne’s truck, you hadn’t had a single night of peace. Both Eddie and Steve were blowing up your phone. Begging for your attention. It was flattering at first. Two of Hawkins hottest at your beck and call. Each vying for your undivided, not knowing that they were competing for it. 

“Quit squirming,” Robin says in a huff between your legs, her mouth blossomed red and slick with spit, “I’ve been down here for thirty minutes and you aren’t any closer to coming than when I started.” 

Her apartment was hot and sticky, the oscillating fan on its last leg, and you were both stripped down to nothing to keep cool on your planned girls day in. A day to forget about the boys stressing you out and for Robin to get away from her annoying ex. And just like how it usually happened with her, you ended up snorting lines and making eachother buzz with orgasms. 

“Ugh, sorry,” you say annoyed, leaning up on your elbows to see her pretty face, “I just can’t relax.” 

“Tell me about it,” she says around your puffy clit, the tip of her tongue flicking it like a snake. 

You had made the boys swear to secrecy that they wouldn’t tell a soul about what had happened. But you didn’t promise anything. 

And the moment you had gotten home, you sent a text to Robin explaining every single detail, down to girth and length. 

“I think, you should date them both, try em out, what’s the worst thing that could happen?” 

“You think so?”

“Yeah, now please shut up, you’re taking forever and I’m bored.”

-

The next morning you woke with a smile on your lips. Any turmoil left in your mind on your decision had gone with Robin’s idea. 

The alarm clock on your bedside table illuminated 9:15AM and before even slipping your toes into some slippers, you sent two text messages to two recipients. 

The normal routine of your morning commenced without fail, washing your face, scrubbing your body in the shower, putting on light makeup before making a pot of coffee. 

Eddie arrived first, his motorcycle echoed loud off the parking lot as he backed it into a spot against the sidewalk. His dark curls were honeyed by the sun, a bag of Chinese takeout in one arm and a dozen roses in another. The prettiest dimples displayed on his stupid gorgeous face. 

“Hey beautiful,” he smirked, wrapping you in a hug and kissing your cheek. He smelled like muted cigarettes and bourbon cologne. The creak of his leather jacket echoed in your ears as he lifted you off the ground into a bone crushing hug, making you squeal.

“Sleep well?”

Before you could answer his smile had faded into a scowl when the door swung open and Steve stood at the threshold.  Wielding a pink box of gourmet cookies and two iced coffees, his wire framed Ray Bans pushed into his hair. 

“Munson,” he greeted, nodding to his friend in that jock head jerk. Stepping around him, Steve sets the coffees on the counter and gathers you into a hug, kissing your neck and whispering that he had missed you. 

His golden retriever vibe of tanned skin and forest colored eyes bore through you when he licked his lips. 

You pull away and smile at them. They both look so good but in completely different ways. 

Eddie’s tattoos were peeking out from under the tight white shirt he was wearing, as was a silver chain necklace. 

You were practically drooling to get your lips on his skin again. 

Steve was in light colored shorts and a casual button up, exposing the dusting of chest hair that your fingers ached to be wrapped in. If you had your way you’d take them both right here right now but that’s not what today was about. 

“Why are we both here, baby?” Eddie asks, setting the bouquet and the Chinese food on the counter, pushing away the pink box of treats from his competitor.

“It’s obvious.” Steve says with a smirk pulling on his lips, “she’s gonna let you down easy and go out with me.”  

“Always so cocky,” you tsk, trying not to look at the way his shorts are cinched at the zipper. 

You look between them, big doe whiskey colored eyes stare at you in longing, while the mossy floor ones squinted with a smirk. 

 “We need to talk, and rather me having this conversation twice- I figured we are grown ass adults and can talk about what happened.” 

Eddie nods and crosses his arms, leaning forward to not miss anything you were about to say. Meanwhile Steve leaned a hip into the wall, checking his phone. 

“Before I stroke your egos, you both know you’re hot, so I’m not going to tell you how fucking great that day was.”

“fuck yeah it was,” Steve chimed in, adjusting his length in his shorts. 

Eddie blushed a pretty salmon and shot you a wink. 

“But— I’m not choosing between the two of you, I can’t, ask Robin, I about gave her a brain aneurysm yesterday trying to figure it out.” 

You were the one on the verge of an aneurysm when you came allover her lips but that’s another story. 

“So, we’re gonna do this with no strings, no feelings, just friends hooking up and playing around. Cool?”

Eddie’s eyes fall to the tops of his boots.

“So let me get this straight,” Steve gaped, eyebrows pulled in, “you’re going to go out with the two of us... at the same time?” 

“Yeah, kinda what you do with every hussy in town Harrington.”

Steve’s gears are grinding but Eddie hasn’t said a word. 

“What the fuck Taff?” Steve huffs in annoyance. 

you banter back talking to him like he’s a child, “what’s the matter Harrington, don’t like sharing?”

“Rich boys are used to having their way.” Eddie gloats. 

“Oh fuck off,” he pours, “what about sex? Or is this like a PG thing, eating pizza at Chucke fuckin’ Cheese?” 

You cross your arms, and lick your lips, “oh we’ll be fucking, but not until you’re clean, both of you.” 

Eddie’s eyes finally perk up, he hasn’t been with anyone since last year and he was checked three months ago. 

“Oh come on!” Steve whines, “MaKenna is a virgin, and Blair and  Nicole have only blown Tommy since being with me— no need to fuck anyone else catch my drift?” 

“Sorry Harrington, I’m not risking catching anything and giving it to Eddie because you fundipped your way across campus. Show me you’re clean and it’s game on.” 

He pouts, “Jesus Christ… I’ll even wear a condom, c’mon.. I swear I’m clean.” 

“What the fuck is this 1990? I have an IUD, just get clean and we can do whatever you want.” 

Eddie feels like he has the upper hand for the first time since arriving at your apartment, “W-when does this start, sweetheart?” 

“Right now,” you shrug, “ I know you had to take off work today so I’m yours, see ya tomorrow Stevie.” 

“Such bullshit.” 

“Don’t worry buddy, I’ll take care of her while you’re off swabbing your pee hole,” Eddie says with a wave to his friend,  cockiness in his stance. 

“Be nice, boys.” 

You don’t expect what happens next but Steve grabbed your wrist and twisted you into him, kissing you square on the mouth just as firm as he did in the bed of Wayne’s truck. Rough and giving no grace he leaves you spinning even after he’s left. 

“Text me if you get bored with this one,” he says, licking his bottom lip to get one more taste of you as he walks through the door, “bye.” 

You cross the kitchen to the counter, lips still buzzing from Steve’s kiss. You pull out two forks from the proper drawer and rip some paper towels from the roll. 

Pulling out the white cardboard containers of Chinese food from the plastic sack, you plate them with shaky fingers. The fork in your hand slipping every once in a while and clanging loudly into the ceramic plate. 

“Hungry?” you ask over your shoulder.

“Starving actually,” Eddie says, “but there’s something I wanna do first.” 

You tear open a foil packet of soy sauce between your teeth and squeeze it all over the fried rice, “yeah, and what’s that?” 

Not noticing how close he was to you, his hands rest hotly on either of your hips, fingernails grazing the cotton of your shorts.

In a quick spin, you’re suddenly facing him, fork in one hand, soy sauce packet in the other. His eyes are impossibly dark, and a twist of a smirk lays on his pretty lips. 

“I wanna kiss you.” 

His lips ghost over yours and your tongue reaches for his lips but is met by nothing.

His breath fans across your lips, the sweetest of pouts escapes you, and his adam's apple bobs in his throat, swallowing your annoyance, “not here.” 

His fingers tease the waistband of your shorts, cold steel of his rings icing into your skin, dipping into it with a tentative touch. 

The zipper of his leather jacket bites into your palms as you pull him closer into you, and just like that day on the side of the road, it felt easy with Eddie.

You share the same bated breath as his fingers plunge deeper and push your underwear out of the way.  Between your slick folds he teases at your clit with his middle finger, swallowing the pretty noise you emit. 

“Wanna kiss you here,” he said with a thick fingered flick against your clit making you moan through your teeth but lips,  “need to taste you, again.” 

You moan his name and he helps you wiggle out of your shorts in a hurry. Feeling like you’re possessed at the sight of him dropping to his knees on the cold linoleum of your kitchen floor, like a sinner praying for mercy in a cathedral—you’re practically begging for his tongue where you need it most. 

Two weeks ago you and Eddie were just friends, and now he’s pulling the prettiest noises from you that would make the angels sick with worry,  

His lips kiss your thighs feverishly in his travels. Dark curls tickling against the spit from his sloppy mouth. Every sensation in your body was screaming, and you cursed out loud when he hooked your leg over his shoulder like a guitar strap. 

His eyes didn’t leave yours as he pushed this tongue into your slick, flicking against the hood of your clit, “so fuckin pretty baby, been seeing her in my dream for a week.” 

Nerves wrecked already you’re practically a puddle at his simping words, trying like hell to balance on one foot and carving your nails into the underside of the counter. But Eddie’s face could have held you up alone. 

He’s buried in your pussy. The happiest of graves. Nose, mouth chin- gone. All you can see of him down the plain of your own body are his curls. But you can feel him everywhere. 

Devil's tongue stuffed between your legs, thrashing and lapping up like a mad man starved. His groans vibrate around you and your legs quake. His fingers are pushed deep in the well of your velvet walls, another circling your ass and putting the tiniest bit of pressure there making you cry out. 

His name falls from your lips like a chant, faster and faster until your orgasm peaks and blinds you, your body losing all control from his tongue, your knuckles go white when you grab his hair, holding him right where you need him. 

“Fuck,” he groans, wrapping his lips around your sensitive clit once more before he adjusts your panties back into place. Your fingers ache from the grip you had on the counter and in his locks. 

Kissing the delicate fabric around the apex of your thighs, he whispers softly, “I could do that everyday.” 

He helps you step back into your shorts, that glorious tongue poking out in concentration, and he looks up at you with a shy smile, standing and holding your hands.

“With a tongue like that, I might let you.” 

“Don’t tease me Taffy, I’m still hard.” 

And now it was your turn to be needy. You pull the lapels of his leather jacket into you and you kiss his slick coated lips, he tastes like you and the salty soy sauce that was still on your lip. 

Kissing Eddie was different than Steve, he painted your mouth the same way he lapped at your folds. If you never caught your breath— that would be fine with you. Your head spun around his web and you were tangled in it. 

His hands wrap around your back and one holds your face. It was deeply passionate, and your heart was bursting, your lips move to his neck and you suck and bite a mark into him, and he whimpers when your kisses go small. 

“This is gonna get cold Eddie,” you say against the column of his throat. 

“Let it, I’ll buy more.” 

You grin into his skin and he laughs when you tickle his sides, “c’mon,” you urge. 

And Eddie gets in one last kiss before breaking away, pulling your lip down with his thumb, and you shudder at the way he looks at you as if you’re the only girl on the planet, “if you say so.” 

-

The Chinese needed to be s microwaved but it was still good., The hunan pork was tender and juicy, and the lo mein noodles were to die for. You and Eddie sat side by side on the barstools and talked like you always had. He had a gig this weekend and when he asked if you were coming you said of course you were, a quirk to your brow. 

“Alright,” he said, putting alot of effort and concentration into twirling a noodle with his fork, “just wasn’t sure.” 

You leaned forward and kissed sauce from the corner of his mouth, and your core ached and pulsed at the sight of his boyish grin and blushing cheeks. 

“Wouldn’t miss it, even if it is Steve’s night.” 

He accepted a bite from your fork of fried rice, and almost melted when you held pinched fingers up to his mouth of a ripped piece of crab rangoon. 

“We’re still cool, right?” he asks after crushing the bite between his teeth, his eyes watching you put your fingers in your mouth and nodding. 

“So c-can I ask you something as a friend?” 

His brows are pinched in a furrow and you know he’s uneasy about something. 

You slurp a noodle into your mouth and talk with a mouthful, a hand in front of your face, “spit it out, Munson.” 

His fork clanks on the plate as he sets it down and gives the plate away. He runs a hand through his hair, and leans on his elbows and picks at his rings. 

“So, why— I mean, why the both of us. You and Harrington can’t even stand each other.” 

He was right, before last week you and Steve could barely be in the same room together, and now you were agreeing to fuck with no strings attached. 

“It’s physical with Steve, like pure animalistic instinct. There’s no thoughts, and I think us hating each other just makes it that much better.” 

Eddie’s weight shifts on the stool and his eyes never leave his rings, spinning them in a nervous habit. 

“So you don’t like him like that?” 

And the truth of his question falls through but you refuse to answer it, you have your own questions to ask, you toss the paper napkin onto your plate and mimic his actions, pushing it ahead on the counter. 

“Eddie.. are you jealous?” 

You leaned into him, the pads of your fingers daintily walking up his thigh, your eyes blink slow in a lazy seduction and fuck he’s practically putty in your hands. 

He licks his lips feverishly, suddenly hot around the collar and his heart hammered a rhythm loud enough to make a tune out of it. 

“N-no,” pppft he stammers, “I’m not jealous,” he tries his best not to catch your eye but once he does those hersheys bars give him away and a bubble gum blush tickles his cheeks. He clears his throat with an ahem, and raps his knuckles on the counter. 

You stand and wiggle between his legs, pressing one hand further into his crotch and the other on his chest, toying with his necklace, your finger skating the pick left and right the chain making a zippered like noise. 

“Tell me what you want, baby.” 

Eddie is floored, wilting like a flower— all the oxygen and water ran out from the                                                            √≈petals. His mouth was almost glued shut, it’s so dry, Sahara would be jealous. 

Your lips pucker behind his ear and the filth you’re whispering to him sends shivers down his spine. It’s lust  licked and heavy, want me to touch you, or do you wanna touch me? 

He answers with a dry groan and a swallow, and his hands find your hips spinning you around,his lips ghost over your neck and you throw your head back into him, pushing your ass into him to feel the swell of his bulge in his jeans. 

He’s rutting into your doughy ass, his fat cock loving the friction you’re bouncing against him, you move your hips and grind further into him. 

“Fuck baby,” he moans hot against the shell of your ear, catching in his throat. 

His hands creep under the hem of your shirt and skate against your skin, the smooth of his nails electrifying each touch. They work along your curves, his big thick hands touching every inch of your skin, rubbing along the lacy edge of your maroon bralette. 

The pads of his thumbs graze against your peaked nipples and you exhale. You're surrounded by the sharp spice of his cologne, the muted cigarettes clinging to his jacket, it encompassed you, held you like a hug and had your eyes rolling in the back of your head. 

It felt too good. His lips hummed against your neck, vibrating hot and sending goosebumps along your skin, and you wanted more. Needed more. 

You followed his hands, tracing the veins on the tops of them with your fingers, pushing your palm flat against them, making him squeeze at your tits, and you purred out his name, a shade away from whining. 

Fuck you wanted him so bad. And judging by the firmness of his cock beneath your asscheeks, he wanted you just as badly. 

You spun quickly, grabbing his hands and leading him to the couch, his lips were red from sucking on your neck, bangs were pushed up awkwardly from the position his head was buried into your shoulder. He looked drunk, enamored with something you didn’t recognize.

The leather of his belt was heavy in your fingers as you unraveled it through the buckle and the first loop on his jeans. His eyes never left yours as your fingers flipped the button and pushed his jeans down his hips. 

He shuddered a breath when your hand cupped him in his boxers, the velvet of his skin soft and warm in your soft grip. He was bigger than you remembered, thick like a stout of beer.

“Christ Taff,” he breathed when you stroked him fully, the pad of your finger running over the vein that ran along his cock. 

You looked at him through your lashes as you lowered yourself to the ground, dragging his jeans and boxers with you, “this what you wanted big boy? Wanted me on my knees for you?”

He hums and holds your chin, brushing his thumb across your lips. 

Licking the tip of his thumb, you hold his heavy cock in your hands, stroking his shaft slow then fast, “you’re so big, Eddie.”

He swallows his next words when your tongue circles his head, collecting the precum with each devilish swipe. You stick out your tongue to show him the pearl in your mouth, and he almost combusts when you swallow it with a hum. 

“Yummy.”

He’s certain he’s going to die right here in your living room, looking at you with your pink tongue swirling around his cock, the way your lips suction around him, fuck, you haven’t even put him fully in your mouth yet and he’s a goddamn mess. 

The teasing is too much but he’ll take whatever you give him, if you were to stop now he’d be completely satisfied, he’d have to pump his cock furiously when he got home to make the ache go away but, he’d do it. 

But you don’t stop, fuck no. You’re just getting started. You like him like this, flushed in his cheeks and waiting patiently for your mouth. His mouth opening as yours does. Waiting, pleading, hoping that you would finally let your wet warmth surround him. 

And then you do. 

He stretched your mouth cheek to cheek, a literal mouthful. And he hums. Is he thanking God? You hide your giggle, deciding to take him further into your throat as you hollow your cheeks and slide him deeper with the help of his canting hips. 

You hum around him and it tickles him, but he’s so drunk on your mouth he’s muttering sentences that don’t even make sense. 

Pumping your hands along his shaft you dribble spit from your throat to the head of his dick, a slimy string connecting you mouth, one that you slurp back up and take him in deeper. His knees are bent and he pulled his shirt under his chin, wanting to see you fully with his cock stuffed in your mouth, your pretty eyes are teary and he can feel you gag around him before he pulls out and you come back for more. 

He’s not sure how long you’ve been at this, and he’s trying to keep his mind averted to anything other than your slippery throat and the cute way your eyes are looking up at him. 

This was better than the way you sucked him off in the bed of Wayne’s truck. You were solely focused on him here. No other distractions, just you and him. 

“Look so fucking pretty, baby,” he moaned, reaching down to hold your cheek, his thumb wipes away some of your smudged make up from your eye, “ do you know that?”

You nod with him in your throat, and he breathes more nonsense as he looks to the ceiling and runs his fingers through his hair, trying not to convulse, but he can’t take it any more, you're working his dick like you’re short on rent. 

“Fuck, sweet girl, fuck,” Eddie whines, scrubbing his hands down his face, his stomach burning to give in to you,  I— shit shit shit, ‘m gonna come.”

He works his hips away from you but you wrap your arms around the back of his knees, holding him with his dick still in your mouth, waiting like a kitten for milk.

He cums hard, biting through his bottom lip to keep himself from yelling out loud. You don’t stop bobbing your throat, swirling your tongue, around his length and puckering your lips around him. 

With his load in your mouth you paint his cock with it, moving it around and around with your excess spit, a hurricane against your tornado tongue, you finally swallow, sucking in your cheeks once more, and cleaning Eddie off in one swoop. His cries fill the room and you finally release him with a pop. 

“Jesus, fuck.” He exhales, sleepy eyed. His reddened swollen cock hanging between you both, “c’mere.” 

He helps you to your feet, and you tuck him back into his boxers gently. He mutters an embarrassed thanks, you’re smiling up at him with a cocky little smirk. Completely ready for him to pull up his jeans, maybe get himself a beer from your fridge, but he doesn’t. 

Eddie holds you to him, his forehead leaning on yours, big hands wrapped around the small of your back. His erratic breath plumed through his nose and his chest was beating fast. You’ve never seen him like this, “Eddie?” 

He doesn’t let go, doesn’t say anything, he just moves back to press the lightest of  kisses to the tip of your nose. “You, “ he finally says, licking his lips and rolling his eyes into the back of his head, finally focusing back on you, he pulls you closer, enough that his eyes are all you can see.

But whatever he was going to say is stuck in his throat, he never finishes what he was going to say. Just pulls you into him and holds you there, his lips on your neck, kissing you softly. It was a perfect day. You should have known it wouldn’t have been weird between you and Eddie, falling back into sync as best friends and laughing while snacking on m&m’s and smoking from his dab pen. 

You end up falling asleep on your bed together, tired from exerting so much energy and bellies full of Chinese. Netflix asks, are you still watching YOU? on the tv on your dresser. Eddie’s tossing and turning wakes you and you grab your phone to check the time. 5 o’clock. Taking an almost four  hour nap, but in reality it felt like four days straight. 

But that's not the only surprising thing on your phone. 

A litter of texts. From the same occupant. The other half of this agreement. 

hope you enjoyed, seems like Steve isn’t too thrilled right?

♡tag list: @dashingdeb16 @emxxblog @mopeymopeymouse @pretendthisnameisclever @mommybaby-witch @eddies-acousticguitar

@tlclick73 @figmentofquinn @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @whenshelanded @micheledawn1975 @3rd-conchord * @leelei1980 @mopeymopeymouse @browneyes8288 @emilyslutface @mmunson86 @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiesxangel @elegantkoalapaper * @str4ngergirlw0rld * @corrodedcoffincumslut @nailbatanddungeon @crybabyddl @zenathebeautiful @astela17 @taintedcigs @bettyfrommars @munsonsuccubus @munson-blurbs @hollandweather @serasvictoria @steviesgrl @sweetsweetjellybean @curiositydooropened @ashyyboyy @urlbitchin @sllooney @lame0o @ali-r3n @bangaveragewhitewine

[reynalovesfiction]

· 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖚𝖑𝖙𝖎𝖘𝖙 𝖛𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖓 — Alexei Makarov

— “Try harder, dear. No one escapes from me. And the ones who do, their heads always end up on a goddamn stick.” —

.||° Gender: male

.||° Age: unknown (appears in his mid twenties)

.||° Ethnicity: Russian

.||° Species: Deity's Vessel [ SUCCESSFUL.]

.||° Yandere type: stoic worshipper

Appearance:

.||° Black, hunter eyes that used to be ocean blue. Suppose to represent his deity's eyes.

.||° he has skin paler than what a human suppose to be. Almost as if it was cold and dead.

.||° his hair is a dirty blonde in the hairstyle of a mullet. Though, his hair appears a bit thinner (not too thin) before he was chosen to be a vessel.

.||° He stands at 6'7 (200 cm), lean, and black arms fading from his skin with glowing white veins.

.||° Has a scar on his right cheekbone.

.||° Can shapeshift into a big mass of black liquid with eyes, mouths, hands, legs, and tentacles.

.||° Wears standard lobe piercings with long sliver rectangles earrings.

.||° mostly wearing suits, in a black colour scheme.

Personality:

.||° Ruthless, not afraid to show that to the world and let it burn in front of him.

.||° More serious when lost sanity. Prefer his work to be more professional.

.||° Despite his serious demonic demeanor, he does have some sarcasm and sass in him. But, it always felt unnatural. Like his human side wants his body back.

.||° humane. But too humane to the point people felt doubt to him.

.||° Has some sort of god complex. Happens due to the fact that he's the deity's vessel.

.||° despite his god complex, he has a sense of morals. Unlike his brother.

With a lover:

.||° A stoic worshipper, looks serious but would do anything for his lover.

.||° Would they want coffee? He would kill someone to steal their coffee for his lover. Would his love want new clothes? Say no more. He would kill and steal things just for his darling.

.||° Worships the ground their lover walk on.

.||° would force people to work with the both of them; him and his darling.

.||° oh, his darling want a seat? Use one of his men's back. It's more comfortable as a chair.

.||° Would be the only kind thing he tolerates.

.||° Is a wonderful baker. Would bake his darling sweets just to make them stay.

.||° doesn't share his darling.

.||° Let's hope his darling doesn't ignore his worshipping! Or else their friends are just a puddle of organs.

Strengths:

.||° Force manipulation (Human form)

→ ables him to use physical force fields to crush, twist, break, turn and chop people's bodies.

.||° Tendrils (True form)

→ Ables him to pull, snap, and pierce people with his tendrils.

.||° immortality

→ due to his duty as a vessel, he was cursed with immortality by the deity in him.

Weaknesses:

.||° Something kind (true form)

→ he feeds off of people's fear and hatred towards him. But, kindness disgusts him.

Story:

Living in a darker side of the villain governmental town, Alexei lived in a very dark cult with his brother, Roman. They were inseparable. But something happend at the age of 19.

The cult believes that the hero government were disobeying their deity because their deity is the true hero. So they needed their deity to kill all hero government personnel by in the body of a villain.

For their ritual, they needed two people just in case one of them fails to become one with the deity. And Dmitri was the first one to succeed after years of trying.

But, the human side of Alexei is fighting. Just for his brother.

He just want Roman to survive.

Trivia:

.||° Unlike his brother, he loves animals.

.||° His brother and Alexei shared most things to remind him of his human past; has trouble sharing darlings.

.||° loves to watch the stars.

.||° He likes his human meat ate in a gourmet, fancy way

.||° sometimes wished to disappear.

.||° Doesn't eat human food, but does eat pastries.

[gearmarke]

Skwizgaar went from trying to put coffee grounds in a toaster to drinking it so much it started to stain his teeth lol. It makes me wonder if he became a coffee gourmet. Does he order from Starbucks and hold up the line for like 2 hours to make sure his coffee is just right? Does he throw a tantrum at the local Barnes & Noble because their café has terrible brews?

I love the idea of Skwizgaar starting his own coffee brand and getting into legal trouble with Duncan Hills over it lol

"Mr.Skwigelf we've tried to negotiate a collaboration with you, your own bottled series of decorated coffee named Black Death. If we collaborate it won't violate your contract but you're making a direct competitor with Duncan Hills and we can't endorse you if you continue to do that."

"Bottled coffees am tastes like shits!!! I wants my coffees to be pure beans, four dollars mores if they's is ground. You musts roasts them correctly toos, do nots fuckings burn thems! You knows what, I'ms just doinks it myskelf!! Fucks yous guys..."

[moonspirit]

I NEED MORE Aruani and Jeanpiku post-rumbling headcanons. THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS!!!!!! THE POTENTIAL THE CHEMISTRY AAAAHHHHHHHHH

AHahah xD Hello anon~

You know, it strikes me that in both relationships, everybody is a polar opposite from each other (but sharing some tiny similarities).

Because between Aruani, Armin's the more "dominant one" (in a soft-boy way) whereas in Jeanpiku, that's Pieck's role xD

On a double date, Armin will compliment Annie in the sweetest, most innocent way possible, something like "omg Annie you look so pretty in that hat (⁠灬•⁠ᴗ⁠•灬⁠)⁠♡". But can you imagine Pieck? Just smirking as Jean tries on a hat or a shirt or something before she goes: *whistle* "Hooo boi, I wanna smash ( ͡ ° ͜ʖ ͡ °)"

Cue: Annie blushes a billion degrees, while Jean is slightly scared for his life.

On the other hand, if the four of them run into some bullies trying to pick trouble, you have Annie radiating dark energy so terrifying nobody dares to come close to Armin or even say a word to him. With Jeanpiku? There's Jean who's jumping at the chance to be a cool-guy by scaring off the bad guys by whispering menacing things at them.

Cue: Armin being all "hehe isn't my girlfriend so amazing ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝) ", while Pieck scoffs about being able to do better than Jean (she's secretly very impressed).

In a cafe or restobar, Armin wants coffee, Annie wants a hot chocolate, Jean wants red wine, and Pieck wants anything with 96% alcohol.

For food, Armin wants something cheesy, Annie wants something sweet, Jean prefers gourmet and savoury while Pieck orders that one thing that breaks the Scoville scale in terms of spiciness and proceeds to set everyone's face on fire.

Now for PDA? Armin manages to sneak in a kiss now and then; he's very very good at it okay?! Nobody's looking, and a quck smol peck on Annie's nose! In general it's very soft and mild with Aruani, they're all about the tiny gestures like hand-holding and brushing back each other's hair... but do not underestimate them! When they go home, it's time to rearrange Annie's guts (❀❛ ֊ ❛❀)♡

Jeanpiku tho? Pieck's easily Rated 18+ at all and any times, but Jean's... pathetically innocent. This guy has never had any game, only pretense, and it's much the same with kissing and sex. Pieck would make out with him for 0.10 seconds and it leaves him burning up and fainting on the ground. RIP. There's also logistical constraints, which is that Pieck TRIES to sneak a kiss just to get a rise out of him but he's!! too fucking tall! Fuck this shit! (it gives her a lot of frustration poor girl. But she gets what she wants in the bedroom (≖⩊≖))

Materialistically, Armin likes books and buildables (like plane models and ships in bottles), Annie likes puzzles and anything that involves getting a cute fuzzy thing as a prize (bonus points if it's baked and edible too), Jean appreciates classical art, painting supplies and fashionable accessories... and Pieck... oh Pieck. She brings home the most unhinged titan-sized and deeply horrifying things like occult items, full-size plushies that look disturbing and dinosaur fossils. Jean always pretends to hate them but then takes care of them more than her... for her <3

[writingmia]

i really liked your pjo headcannons post. i thought it was interesting, since most people always put physical touch as some of the main ll for the characters, esp leo n percy. do u have any other headcanons for either of them? it can be generic things, like what they would do with a s/o, or it can be weird shit idc? i swear ive read lit every single post to exist on tumblr n i need more

Oh my god thank you so much! This is so sweet. I'm surprised my first ever post is doing as well as it is. I expected to pass as pretty unnoticed in the beginning. I do have a lot of headcanons for the characters, but I'm going to do Leo in this one since he's my absolute favourite

Note: I haven't read the HOO books in a while, but I just finished my reread of PJO, so if any 'headcanon' is actually canon, please just pretend that I'm Uncle Rick himself.

Warnings: none

Leo Valdez Headcanons - loves sweet&spicy. If that's an option in the menu at the restaurant he went to, he will absolutely get it. He's kind of obsessed with it to the point where one might get worried about his taste buds

- if he had to choose between sweet and sour, he would absolutely pick sweet any day. That's not really the best considering he's very ADHD, even for a demigod and his intake of sugar doesn't really help much, but he just loves sweet. He doesn't care if it's chocolate-type sweet or sugar-sweet, he just likes it. You can bet that when he comes out of Bunker 9 after a long day, his tongue would be all types of colours because his 'meal' for the day was whatever candy was in his stash of sweets

- now if you made the choice between sweet, sour and spicy, he would struggle to pick

- he hates coffee. he's simply not a coffee guy. he thinks it tastes nasty, since we established he loves anything sweet and coffee is definitely not sweet. and he doesn't need it anyway, he's hyper as is. if anything, coffee makes him more tired

- i feel like he would get pretty into anime if he tried watching it. from the trending shonen, chainsaw man would be his fave, but in general he would be such a fan of one piece imo. he is that person who has unironically watched the whole thing like three times - he feels guilty when he isn't doing something productive since he feels this need to constantly be creating something, but he also loves to just get distracted by something and do his own thing for hours, even if there's no 'productive' outcome. so he 'wastes' his time and feels guilty the entire time, but the enjoyment he gets out of it evens out the guilt (what do you mean i'm not projecting on my favourite character... at all...)

- secretly a good singer. piper once caught him singing in the shower and then dragged him out and forced him to sing out loud because she was not expecting such an angelic voice to come out of him

- his go to karaoke song is 'cake by the ocean' by dnce

- i feel like he would learn how to play the guitar and he will be shockingly good at it. like he learns a song so fast and because his fingers are always doing something and tinkering with things, this is the perfect way for him to get his energy out while also having lots of fun

- i also feel like he would purposefully not tell anyone he learned the guitar and one day he just whips out this new talent of his and everyone's like '????'

- honestly, leo is just good at everything. if he wasn't a hephaestus kid, he would be a son of hermes, because he is such a jack of all trades. he is incredibly intelligent (which is canon, btw, and if it's not yes it fucking is have you seen the guy, he is borderline as smart as Annabeth, if not smarter, just in another flavour), but also anything he attempts to do, he succeeds in. he can draw, he can play the guitar, he can sing, he absolutely is a great dancer. you would expect he sucks at cooking but nope, there he goes, making a gourmet meal like it's nothing. he isn't much of a fighter, but if he needs to hold his ground, he can. he's just so versatile, you can barely catch him off guard with something he can't master in a few hours

I fucking love Leo, can you notice this from my post?? Anyway, I got too lazy to edit this after I wrote it, so if it's not grammatically perfect or things don't make sense, apologies and please let me know. I will post more headcanons because I frankly have too many. And a lot of AU ideas. I'm preparing one rn actually so... stay tuned? Maybe follow if you're interested in seeing more shit by me. - mia

[mcu-binge]

Love in Brooklyn pt 12

The days stretched into weeks, and with no word from Steve, a dull ache had started to settle in my chest. I'd tried to keep myself busy with the bakery, and I'd even taken on a few new custom orders, but there was always this nagging feeling of absence.

In the mornings, as I walked up to the bakery a big part of me was hopeful that I'd see Steve there leaning on my door waiting for me with coffee and day after day week after week I'd feel the same disappointment of not seeing him there. I'd push open the bakery doors, inhaling the familiar smell of flour and sugar mixing with the scent of fresh coffee. It was the one thing that grounded me, my small world of ovens, recipes, and loyal customers who knew nothing about the man who'd crept his way into my life. But even here, I couldn't shake the way his absence hovered like a shadow, following me from the kitchen to the register.

"Dani," called Rosa, one of the bakers who'd been with me from the start. "You okay? You've been staring at that croissant dough for five minutes."

I blinked, looking down at the dough I'd been absently kneading. "Oh, yeah. Just thinking," I said, managing a smile. Rosa gave me a sympathetic look, and I could see the question she wanted to ask.

She'd heard me talk about Steve in passing, but it was always vague—the kind of talk that didn't reveal too much. Still, she knew enough to see that something was on my mind.

"Let me handle the croissants," she said gently. "Why don't you take a minute? You've been on your feet all morning."

I considered protesting, but exhaustion won out. "Alright, you're a lifesaver," I said, stepping aside.

With my hands free, I headed to the back office. I sat down at my desk, glancing at my phone for the tenth time that day. No messages. No calls. I tossed it aside, letting out a frustrated sigh.

Part of me felt foolish for waiting, especially when he'd given me no timeline. And yet, another part of me couldn't let it go. I didn't want to become someone who lived their life around a person who might never come back. But, like clockwork, I found myself glancing at the door every morning, half expecting him to walk in with that quiet smile of his.

Get it together, Dani, I thought, running my fingers through my hair. I grabbed a piece of paper and began scribbling down a new recipe, something with a fall theme. Maple pecan muffins, maybe with a bit of bourbon glaze? Anything to keep my mind from wandering back to the silence that seemed to stretch on forever.

A couple of hours later, the bakery was full of customers, and I threw myself into the flow of things. I exchanged quick smiles, handed out pastries, and listened to customers gush over their morning coffee as they strolled out the door. It was like muscle memory, the ease of handling orders and keeping things running smoothly. But deep down, the silence still lingered.

Just when I thought I'd gotten a handle on it, Sofia walked in, a wide smile spreading across her face as she held up a magazine. "It's out! Look at this!" she practically squealed, holding it out for me.

I looked down, seeing my own pastries on the cover of Local Eats Monthly, glistening under perfect lighting. My heart skipped a beat as I skimmed the feature, filled with descriptions of the bakery and praise for our recent seasonal creations.

"Oh my God, Sofia," I said, laughing with genuine surprise. "I can't believe this is real."

"You should be so proud! First the Gourmet Gazette now this? Do you realize how much business this is going to bring you?" Sofia beamed, giving me a squeeze.

"Look around," I said motioning to the sea of customers. "Thanks for doing our PR." Honestly after that Stark event I had to get Sofias help.

I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. This magazine feature was huge for the bakery, something I'd been working toward since I started. But still, a small part of me wanted to share this moment with someone who wasn't here.

"Thanks, Sof," I said, giving her a quick hug. "I couldn't have done this without you."

"Well, that's what friends are for," she replied, her voice softening as she looked at me knowingly. "And don't think I haven't noticed that you're not yourself lately."

I sighed, glancing around the bakery. "It's just... everything with Steve. He said he'd be back, but it's been weeks now."

Sofia reached out, giving my hand a squeeze. "Hey, maybe he's got a good reason. It's not like he can just send a postcard from... wherever it is he's fighting supervillains."

I chuckled, appreciating her attempt to lighten my mood. "Yeah, maybe."

But as I watched her leave, the uncertainty crept back in. There was no way of knowing if he'd come back—or if he even wanted to.

---

The rest of the day felt long and stretched out, "Dani, you've been at this all day," Rosa's voice cut through my concentration. She nudged my shoulder, pulling me out of my baking zone. "It's time for a break, mija. You've done enough."

I dusted my flour-covered hands off on my apron. "I'm fine, really," I replied, glancing at the clock and realizing how much time had slipped by.

"Go home," Rosa insisted, giving me a warm but firm look. "You need rest, and the bakery can run without you for a night."

After some gentle protests, I finally gave in. "Alright, fine," I said, rolling my eyes but grateful for the push. I took off my apron, said goodbye, and headed home. I had a shower and dressed in my fluffy shorts and a loose fitting crop top. I was just about to sit down with a book when there was a knock at my door. It must be a mistake nobody even buzzed me. I opened door and my jaw dropped. I found Bucky Barnes, casually leaning against the frame.

"James?" I said, startled.

He grinned. "Caught you off guard, didn't I?"

"Uh, yeah," I replied, blinking in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Just checking in. Thought I'd make sure you were surviving the wait," he said, stepping inside as I motioned for him to come in. He got a haircut, I could tease him about this later.

He looked around, his gaze taking in the cozy surroundings. "Nice place," he commented, looking genuinely impressed. "Way homier than the tower."

I chuckled, gesturing to the couch. "Want some coffee? I just made a fresh pot."

"Sure," he said, easing onto the couch as if he'd been here a hundred times before.

I handed him a mug and settled in across from him. "So... any news?" I asked carefully, hoping he'd have some kind of update.

Bucky shook his head. "Not much. Missions like this can be tricky."

He took the cup from me, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "Dani, you make one hell of a cup. I figured Steve was exaggerating, but turns out he wasn't."

I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms. "Oh, so he talks about my coffee?"

"More than you'd believe," he said, and his gaze slid over me, pausing a little too long on my exposed mid section before he gave me a lazy grin. "Actually, I was surprised he'd left a catch like you sitting here all alone."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help the slight blush creeping up. "Oh, please, you and I both know Steve has way too much patience for his own good."

"Patience? I think he's just a little slow." Bucky leaned in, his smirk widening. "You know, Steve might be a saint, but I'm not. And if he keeps dragging his feet, maybe I'll step in."

I felt a laugh bubble up, enjoying the banter. "Awfully bold of you, Barnes. Just don't expect me to fall for the 'strong, silent type' routine. I like a challenge."

"Challenge?" he scoffed, looking delighted. "Dani, sweetheart, I invented the challenge."

"Oh yeah?" I shot back. "So what's your go-to line, then?"

Bucky didn't miss a beat. "Well, usually I don't need one. The arm does most of the talking." He shrugged out of his jacket just then, letting the metal gleam in my lights.

I pretended to study it with exaggerated interest, then shrugged. "Hmm. Not bad, I guess. It does add a certain...shine."

Bucky laughed, looking genuinely amused. "I'll give you this—you're not an easy one to crack. And trust me, I've met my fair share."

"Are you flirting with me, James?" I asked, tilting my head and doing my best to look innocent.

He grinned. "Only if it's working."

I couldn't help but laugh. "I'll admit, you've got the charm thing down. But if you're here to try and win me over, you've got a hell of a competition."

"Oh, I know. And I'm not exactly subtle." He leaned in, lowering his voice, "One things for sure : Steve's right. You're a spitfire."

He paused, his gaze serious for a moment. "Honestly, Dani. I can see what Steve sees in you."

There was a softness in his tone, a kind of respect that made me feel a little more grounded. "Thanks, Bucky," I said, genuinely touched. "But for the record, I'm not looking for a replacement."

Bucky raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, fair's fair. But if you change your mind..." He gave me a mischievous wink.

I laughed, shaking my head. "Oh, I'll keep it in mind. But I don't fall for just anyone, it's gonna take more than a shiny arm and a smooth talker."

He chuckled, tipping his mug to me. "Noted. Just remember—if that punk keeps you waiting too long, you've got options."

His gaze was direct, challenging, and for a moment, the air between us shifted. Bucky was good-looking, and he knew how to lay on the charm, but I wasn't about to let him see me flustered.

"So, is this how you spend your time?" I teased. "Hitting on your friend's girl?"

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Just trying to make sure Steve isn't taking you for granted."

"Good to know he's got his wingman doing quality control," I replied, sipping my own coffee and giving him a pointed look.

Despite all the flirting, there was a genuine warmth to him, like he was really looking out for me.

I watched as Bucky sprawled across my couch, looking way too comfortable for someone who'd just invited himself over. His arm was stretched along the back of the sofa, and he was watching me with that signature smirk of his.

"You know," I said, crossing my arms and giving him my best unimpressed look, "Since you decided to invite yourself it's not going to be just to lounge around."

Bucky grinned, completely unfazed. "Oh, so now you're putting me to work?"

"Absolutely." I motioned toward the kitchen, trying not to smile. "Go wash your hands, Barnes. You're helping me make dinner."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, standing up and giving me a mock salute as he sauntered over to the sink. I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help the small laugh that escaped.

I started pulling ingredients from the fridge, and soon enough, I heard the water turn off and Bucky's footsteps as he joined me in the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves with a grin.

"Alright, Chef," he said, leaning in just a little too close, his voice dropping to a whisper, "what's the plan?"

I handed him a cutting board and some vegetables. "Think you can handle chopping these?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Chopping? You're putting my talents to waste here."

I nudged him playfully. "Let's start small, big shot. Show me those skills you keep bragging about."

To my surprise, he started chopping, and he was actually pretty good. We worked side by side, our elbows bumping now and then as we moved around each other. Each time, he'd throw me this look that made my heart beat just a little faster, but I did my best to ignore it.

"So, what does a guy like you usually eat?" I asked, stirring a pot on the stove.

"Me?" He smirked, glancing over. "Oh, you know. A perfectly balanced meal of takeout and... whatever's in the Avengers Tower fridge."

I snorted, shaking my head. "Why am I not surprised?"

"But hey," he continued with a grin, "I'm open to learning from the best. Got any tips, Chef?"

I gave him a mock-serious look. "Rule number one: taste everything as you go. Here." I held out a spoon with a bit of sauce, bringing it close to his lips.

Bucky leaned in, tasting it with an exaggerated "mmm" and a wink. "Alright, I'll admit—you know what you're doing. Got any other rules?"

"Yeah, rule number two: try not to burn anything."

"Please, I don't burn," he said confidently, tossing me a flirty look. "Just adding a little... heat."

"Oh, is that right?" I laughed, shaking my head at his ridiculousness.

We continued cooking, the banter flowing easily between us. At one point, he leaned in a little too close, his arm brushing against mine as he reached for the salt, and the touch sent a small thrill through me that I tried my best to ignore.

"Admit it," he said quietly, his voice just a bit lower, that glint of mischief in his eyes. "You're enjoying my company."

I looked up at him, our faces just inches apart. "Maybe I am," I replied, just as quietly. "But don't let it go to your head."

His eyes sparkled with amusement, but he took a half-step back, grabbing the pepper instead, leaving the moment lingering between us. We fell back into the rhythm of cooking, laughter filling the kitchen along with the warm, savory smells from the stove. It felt... nice, easy, like we'd done this a hundred times before.

After we finished cooking, Bucky and I set the plates on my small dining table. The kitchen smelled amazing, filled with the warmth of spices and roasted veggies. It felt cozy, almost like we'd done this a dozen times before. He settled into the seat across from me, taking in the spread with a nod of approval.

"This actually looks... pretty impressive," he admitted, a bit of a surprised smile playing at his lips.

I smirked, pouring us each a glass of water. "Was there any doubt?"

He chuckled, taking his first bite and savoring it for a moment. "Alright, I'll admit—you know what you're doing."

We began to eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before I broke it, asking, "So, James Barnes... what's something most people don't know about you?"

He glanced up, clearly surprised by the question, but after a second, he gave a half-smile. "Oh, so we're getting serious now?"

I shrugged, swirling my fork through my pasta. "Just curious. You don't give off the open-book vibe."

He laughed softly. "Fair. I guess... most people don't know I actually loved to draw when I was younger. Art class was one of my favorite parts of school."

That caught me off guard. "Wait, really? I wouldn't have pegged you as an artist."

"Yeah," he said, a little nostalgic. "I was pretty good, too. Used to draw sketches of people in cafes, parks... New York was a good place for that kind of thing back in the day."

I could see the wistfulness in his eyes, the way his mind drifted back to a different time. "You still draw?"

He looked down, shaking his head. "Not as much. Sometimes it feels like... that was a different guy. You know?"

I nodded, understanding more than I expected. "Yeah, I get it. Sometimes parts of us feel like they belong to a different version of ourselves, someone we left behind."

He looked at me with a curiosity that seemed almost unexpected. "What about you? Anything you used to do that's kind of... faded?"

I hesitated, twirling my fork. "I used to sing for fun at least. Nothing professional, just... around the house. My mom loved it." I chuckled, a little embarrassed. "It was our thing, I guess. But life happened, and it felt silly to keep up in the midst of all the growing up I had to do in a short amount of time."

Bucky's eyes softened, and he leaned forward slightly. "I don't think that's silly at all. There's something about holding onto those pieces of ourselves that keeps us... grounded. Maybe even reminds us of who we are."

I glanced down at my plate, feeling strangely seen. "Yeah, I guess you're right. It's easy to let things slip away without even noticing."

He gave a thoughtful nod, as though considering his own answer. "Exactly. Sometimes it feels like those little things are all we have to remind us of... I don't know, the parts of us that are still ours."

I smiled at him, feeling a warm connection I hadn't expected. "You're pretty insightful, you know that?"

He shrugged, the faintest blush rising to his cheeks. "Guess it comes with being around for so long. You pick up a thing or two."

We shared a smile, and for a moment, there was a quietness between us that felt more like understanding than silence.

"So," he said, breaking the tension with a playful grin, "next time we cook, you're singing, and I'm drawing."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Deal. But only if you promise not to laugh."

"Oh, I'd never laugh," he replied, voice full of mock innocence. "But I can't promise I won't draw you while you're singing."

I rolled my eyes, laughing despite myself. "Fine, but don't make me look like a cartoon character."

His smile softened, and he looked at me with a warmth that reached his eyes. "I couldn't make you look like a cartoon even if I tried."

I felt my face heat up, surprised at how much his words affected me. We continued eating, the conversation weaving between deep memories and light-hearted banter, every exchange feeling like one step closer to understanding each other.

"So I gotta ask," I started getting his attention

"Hmmm?" He softly asks

"What's up with the haircut?" I teased, a sly smile slipping onto my face. "Going for the mysterious, 'I woke up looking this good' vibe?"

He raised an eyebrow, instantly smirking back. "You saying it doesn't work?"

"Oh, it works," I admitted, letting my eyes linger longer. "I mean, it's giving a little 'bad boy with a soft side,' you know?" I leaned in closer, lowering my voice. "I'm sure that's the plan, though, right? Just part of the Bucky charm."

He chuckled, leaning in to match my level. "And here I thought I was flying under the radar," he murmured. "Guess I'll have to work harder on my subtlety."

I bit back a grin, shrugging. "Nah, wouldn't want you to hide all that from the world. It's good to be memorable."

"Memorable, huh?" His smile turned a little softer, his gaze holding mine. "Well, if it's working on you, I must be doing something right."

My smile grew as I tilted my head, holding back a laugh. "Oh, you're doing a lot right. Don't let it get to your head, though," I teased.

"Noted," he replied, still grinning. "Guess I'll just have to keep my cool."

"Oh, keep your cool?" I asked, arching an eyebrow. "James, if this is you being cool, I'm curious to see what it's like when you're actually trying."

He leaned back, giving me a look that was equal parts challenge and amusement. "Careful," he said, his voice dropping just a bit, "keep talking like that, and I might start trying."

I let out a laugh, shaking my head as I looked away. "Guess I'll have to brace myself."

He chuckled, his teasing glint softening a bit. "Alright, alright," he said, lifting his hands in surrender. "I'll take it easy on you. Don't want to scare you off, especially when I'm winning you over one compliment at a time."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help smiling. "In your dreams, Barnes."

He smiled back, genuine this time. "Fair enough. Steve's a good man."

The mention of Steve brought a warm feeling with it, grounding me. "Yeah," I nodded, a small smile lingering. "He really is."

Bucky held my gaze, a flicker of something respectful and knowing in his eyes. "Then he's a lucky man, Dani. That's all I'll say."

With that, we let the banter rest, our unspoken understanding filling the space. It was a reminder of the lines we wouldn't cross and of the loyalty that connected us all. We could joke and tease, but there was a respect there, a boundary we both honored—one we both knew was worth holding onto.

As the night wrapped up, Bucky stood by the door, glancing back at me with a relaxed smile. "Thanks for the dinner, Dani. I needed a night like this."

I crossed my arms, smirking. "Anytime you want invite yourself in."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Noted." Then he took a step closer, his arms opening in an unspoken invitation. "Come here."

I hesitated for a second before moving forward, letting him pull me into a hug. His embrace was warm and solid, surprisingly comforting.

"Take care of yourself, alright?" he murmured, his voice low against my hair. "And don't let that bakery run you ragged."

I smiled, pulling back just enough to look at him. "Same goes for you. And...watch Steve's back for me."

His eyes softened. "Always."

With one last look, Bucky gave me a small, reassuring smile before stepping out the door. As I closed it behind him, I felt a renewed warmth and reassurance that lingered, reminding me of the connections that made waiting for Steve just a little easier.

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

Just a short interlude before tonight's episode...

Before the Ashes Hit the Ground

(T, 790 words)

“I'm impressed,” says Tommy, and the glow dawning in Evan's eyes at these words outshines the soft lighting in the kitchen.

He’s enchanting, he doesn’t even know how much.

“It's Bobby's recipe.“

It seems a cloud is moving in front of the sun, if only for a second.

Tommy has taken a peculiar liking to Bobby, and it may be partly because of Evan, because of his admiration for this man who’s more like a father to him than the man who conceived him. It’s probably also because he played a big part in saving the captain, experienced him in control, even in an exceptional situation. Experienced him caring for others. Evan is like that too, and Tommy believes he's always been like that, even though he can't know for sure; but if that's Bobby's legacy, then it's in Evan, and it's beautiful. Beautiful, like Evan, who wanted to distract himself from his racing mind with cooking – another thing he got from Bobby – and his boyfriend.

Evan has a dozen emotions portrayed directly on his face, bare like an open wound. Tommy wishes nothing more than it being easy to kiss the worry away, to smooth that little wrinkle above Evan's perfect brow. He averts his eyes – only very briefly, he can't stop looking at the man – to look at his plate. Evan has set the table as if for a date, and yes, that had actually been the plan. The food looks fantastic, and even though Tommy isn't really hungry, he needs to taste it. That’s not mere politeness, it's a necessity. Evan hangs on his lips as he brings his fork to his mouth.

Tommy blinks as the taste spreads in his mouth. He's not much of a cook, long and unpredictable shifts usually lead him to grab something on the go. He's quickly learned that mindless eating is over, it's not for Evan, and if Tommy wants to be one thing, it's good for Evan.

There are so many details, so many nuances of flavor. He realizes that this is like a good blend of coffee, and he knows a thing or two about it. Tommy’s been called a coffee snob before, but he doesn’t care. Good coffee has a mild finish, a strong aroma and leaves a long-lasting, pleasant sensation in your mouth. Wrong thought at the wrong time, but that’s a bit like Evan’s kisses, actually.

This meal, however... The fork in his hand stops in mid-air, he needs to think. To taste. Not devour, no. Evan has put time, his heart and soul into this meal. This food contains the essence of things Bobby has taught him. He has seasoned it carefully, maybe even with his fear and worry. Sometimes a dish needs this hint of bitter to develop its full flavor, just like the best coffee. There’s this vague sharpness of basil, perfectly balanced with the acidity of the tomatoes in the sauce. A hint of oregano, and perhaps a whiff of red wine. Everything is harmonized. Smooth. Perfect, like Evan's blue eyes, his lips, even the shape of his birthmark.

It’s brilliant, but it’s not gourmet food, not star cuisine, and that's what makes it special. This is great, but also down-to-earth. Perfect, because this recipe contains a piece of Bobby, and now Evan. Love, above all.

Tommy swallows the bite, puts the fork aside and grabs Evan's hand.

“He's gonna be fine, Evan.”

“You don't know that.”

No, Tommy doesn't know that, and he has no interest in reciting statistics. With sudden cardiac arrest, the survival rate is 50%. Bobby may be a fighter, but from what Evan has told him and from everything he's read between the lines, the man may have lost his desire to fight.

“But he will,” he returns, almost defiantly. “However, with this food here, he can't teach you anything more.”

There's the faintest smile on Evan's mouth.

“Really? You like it?”

“I love it. Just like you, Evan.”

Tommy's heart takes a stumble. You idiot, that's way too soon. But how can it be too soon? How can it ever be too soon with what they do every day? Life is short. Short and hard, and every single moment of happiness counts.

Evan blinks. And then the sun rises again: he smiles, his whole face lights up. He looks at Tommy, and just like in this meal, everything is laid bare before him. Tommy would do anything for that smile, anything.

The phone rings.

[raystarpuzzlecrow]

My explosions theory.

Hi. I was really curious about explosions in rain world. If we dont take "Fire Egg", there only fire bush, grenade and explosive spear we have in the game. So, they're pretty similar in the game and it's pretty obvious. But I still tried to explain the connection between them.

So i will start with FireBush.

Code name: FirecrackerPlant

So in my opinion FireBush its a plant belonging to the genus Impatiens. Which spreading their seeds by self-detonation.

If we take a situation where every cycle of the game has a plant waiting for you on its spawn as a game mechanic. And take into account that the bush appears again every 2-5 cycles, depending on the external environment. It can be assumed that they grow up the same amount of time. And after their fruits ripen, they detonate on the ground under the pressure of rain.

( I do not deny that they can reproduce only from the fact that someone picks and throws them )

( In this theory there will be a few of my guesses and assumptions that do not have to be taken seriously )

I assume that the fruits of the fire bushes ripen in 4 stages.

1 stage

At the first stage, an ordinary kidney is formed. The shell of which consists of 4-6 of the hardest seeds, protecting the inner seeds of which there may not be a certain amount.

2 stage

In stage 2, the bud develops and the seeds from the middle grow and push the outer seeds increasing in size and forming a fruit similar to a lump.

3 stage

At the 3rd stage, a berry grows in the center of the kidney, which I call "fire pulp". It pushes the seeds apart and forms a rosette inside. at stage 3, the berry is still solid and not explosive.

4 stage

At the 4th stage, a full explosive fruit grows. The seeds around him may already be on all sides by this point. During detonation, the seeds around the fruit fly in all directions and easily fall into the ground.

Now a little about seeds and fire pulp.

I believe that the seeds of the bush can be of any shape and location around the berry. However, in adult form they are soft and sharp enough to dig underground.

In my canon, they taste like coffee.

Fire Pulp

"Fire pulp" is similar to plastid, but several times lighter. And unlike plastid, it can detonate from a strong throw or blow. It is easily crumpled and transformed by hands (or paws).

If you act carefully, the pulp can be extracted from the seeds and freely crushed and shaped.

But be careful!!! Because "fire pulp" is very poisonous and still explosive. But if you act with caution, everything could be fine.

So now about Grenades.

Code name: ScavengerBomb

We know from the game that a Gourmet and an Atrificer can create grenades. However, if you take into account the name in the game code, you can also assume that some scavengers are able to create them. I believe that a grenate is a pebble combined with "fire pulp", as a gourman craft it from stone and fire bush. It is impossible to accurately guess the topic of its creation, but I assume that the stone is needed here so that it would be more convenient to throw and so that the grenade could gain sufficient speed.

Presumably Arti Just has a mutation that allows her to produce a substance similar to "fire pulp".

Explosive Spear.

Code name: ExplosiveSpear

Explosive Spears a little harder to explain.

The only clues the game gives us are the locations of the spawn copies. They mostly appear in locations where there are scavengers and at the scavengers themselves.

The gourmet does not know how to create them for reasons unknown to me. So presumably only scavengers and Arti can create them. Again, the scheme for creating such spears, in my opinion, is similar to creating grenades.

I assume that a grenade or "fire pulp" is used in their creation. Presumably Fire pulp is very finely kneaded and wound on the end of a stick. This explains the fact that in the game the red part is hanging from the spear, developing like a rag.

So that's all I could think of at the moment, thanks if you've read it all. this is the first time I'm writing something like this, so if there are any tips on this topic, I'll be happy to read your ideas. Maybe I'll come up with more theories in the future. If you are interested, here is the full version of the theory. (sorry for a little blur)

Here are a few links to the sources that I used in addition to my experiments from the game.

Gourman and his crafting combinations

FireBush and his spawn cycles

Grenade

Explosive spear

The plants with which I associated the fire bush

The plastid with which I compared "Fire Pulp"

[themculibrary]

Homeless Bucky Masterlist

A Life Near By (ao3) - Queerily_kai steve/bucky G, 7k

Summary: Bucky may have snuck away after saving Captain America from the Potomac, but he didn't go far. He needed answers, and this Steve guy seemed to have them, so he did the last thing anyone would have expected, hiding out in the middle of Washington, DC while working on answering the most important question.

Who the hell was Bucky, and why was he so important to this Captain America guy anyway?

A Place to Stay (ao3) - sarahyellow steve/bucky E, 23k

Summary: Homeless and weary, Bucky Barnes just wants a guarantee of safety. But as Darcy points out: It's hard to pull yourself up by your bootstraps when you don't have any bootstraps.

Opening a vein for Steve Rogers is all he's got left.

Coming Home For Christmas (ao3) - Chiyume steve/bucky E, 118k

Summary: Steve Rogers is a good man. His friends have told him so on numerous occasions, but this might actually be more bordering on "stupid" rather than "kind".

Because what else would you describe the act of inviting a complete stranger - and thief - into your home over the Holidays?

Steve isn't quite sure what to call it himself, but fact is that when it comes to the case of Bucky Barnes, Steve's actually pretty okay with being referred to as an idiot, as long as it keep the other man safe. And to Steve's defence, it had all started out with such good intentions...

For Words to Say It Right (ao3) - Squeaky, Taste_is_Sweet steve/bucky, bruce/natasha, clint/laura T, 25k

Summary: Turns out when you're missing an arm, everyone asks are you okay? all the damn time. And when your soulmark is one of the most common questions in English, it's even worse.

Generic soulmarks are a bitch.

Gimme Shelter (ao3) - humapuma steve/bucky E, 84k

Summary: James "Bucky" Barnes is a homeless veteran with a dark past. He's accepted to a six-month shelter program meant to help veterans get back on their feet, and he has his work cut out for him. He needs to find a job, save up money, and hopefully get his own place, but he keeps getting sidetracked by his attraction to Steve Rogers, one of the therapists in the program.

Steve is kind, smart, funny, and clearly in a relationship... but Bucky can't help feeling that Steve is interested in him too.

More issues arise when Bucky's past deeds begin to impact his future and the things he wants aren't something he feels he deserves.

Can he begin to heal himself so he can finally live?

Or will he let the life he left behind destroy what he could be... and what he could have?

Going Through (ao3) - Taste_is_Sweet pre steve/bucky G, 2k

Summary: Bucky wasn't quite sure what to do with the extremely angry fairy he rescued from the group of Make Humanity Great Again! assholes who'd been trying to suffocate him in a jar.

No Enemy But Winter (ao3) - rubygirl29 steve/bucky E, 10k

Summary: "You know there is a homeless guy in the alley next to this hellhole you insist on living in," Tony comes through Steve's open door, stripping off his gloves and looking generally dissatisfied with life.

"There are a lot of homeless people, Tony, even in Manhattan."

"This one has a suspiciously nice blanket and his hands are wrapped around a Stark Industries thermos - the one I give my employees. He's probably drinking that gourmet coffee I also give my employees. I don't suppose you know anything about that?"

Sour as Vinegar, Sweet as Honey (ao3) - Call_Me_Kayyyyy (Cheeky9274), thiccbuckybarnes steve/bucky, past bucky/brock E, 46k

Summary: “Hello?” Steve asks, hiding his gun behind him as he steps out into the snow and down the few stairs to the ground level. It is already snowing hard, but it will continue well into the next few days, building up several feet. It’s already five or six inches high, and a light layer of it is dusting the person crumpled up in his alley.

“Excuse me, but this is private property,” Steve says to them, feeling adrenaline start to pump through him at the lack of response. He scents the air and only finds that indescribable smell of cold.

“Sir, the individual appears to be unconscious,” JARVIS informs him.

-

Commander Rogers is getting ready to hunker down for what is expected to be the worst blizzard that New York has ever seen when JARVIS alerts him of an intruder on his doorstep.

He figures he’s going to find someone looking for trouble, but instead finds an omega in trouble, and they’re running from more than just the cold.

subways and soup kitchens (ao3) - crazywineaunt steve/bucky G, 1k

Summary: Steve sleeps past the last stop on the subway.

Tap-Tap Into Your Heart (ao3) - Huntress79 steve/bucky, background sam/riley T, 5k

Summary: When HYDRA finally fell, the Soldier was lost, in more than one meaning. And for the next several months, he, more or less, drifted from one former safehouse to the other, always avoiding to stay too long in one place. Until he comes to Brooklyn - and finds a new purpose, again in more than one meaning...

Wenceslas (ao3) - dragongirlG, velociraptorerin steve/bucky M, 17k

Summary: Steve is a short, skinny Brooklynite with a very stable, predictable life, which he built after losing his memories in a traumatic accident six months ago. He works from home on a steady stream of art commissions, goes to weekly trivia nights with his superhero friends the Avengers, and tries not to get bothered by the constant feeling that something is not quite right.

When Steve invites a homeless man with one arm to take shelter in his apartment during a December snowstorm, both of them enter a dreamscape that unravels the fabric of their memories and reveals the truth about their identities—and their relationship to each other.

A wintertime fic featuring dream-sharing, identity porn, and Steve in the 21st century, inspired by the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and the musical composition Wenceslas Suite by Bob Chilcott. Now complete!

we're up all night to get lucky (ao3) - idekman steve/bucky N/R, 1k

Summary: Then there's the dog.

He's not sure how you can make friends with a dog, but he's fairly sure he's managed it.

-

The Winter Soldier is homeless, but Bucky Barnes' Super Secret New York support group are on hand to help him out. Also, there's a dog.

What Stays and What Fades Away (ao3) - Golden_Archer G, 39k

Summary: Steve can’t sleep, the guilt and pain eating him alive, leaving him empty and drained. But when he coincidentally stumbles into Bucky on one rainy freezing night, he must do whatever he can to save his sick and starving friend. He will not let him down again, he can’t.

Why do we fall (ao3) - inkandwolves M, 4k

Summary: After D.C., the Winter Soldier goes home, the long way 'round.

[noraflwower4you]

Top 10 Gift Ideas for Coffee Lovers

Coffee lovers are easy to shop for — they live and breathe coffee! But finding the perfect gift that’s both thoughtful and unique can be tricky. Whether it’s a birthday, holiday, or just because, here are ten gift ideas sure to delight any coffee enthusiast.

1. 20 oz Skinny Tumblers for Coffee On-the-Go

Every coffee lover needs a reliable tumbler to keep their brew hot (or cold) for hours. A customizable skinny tumbler is perfect for showcasing their personality, whether they love minimalist designs, floral patterns, or motivational quotes. These tumblers are not just practical but also stylish, making them an ideal gift for daily commuters or gym-goers.

2. Specialty Coffee Subscription

Treat your coffee lover to a monthly subscription of freshly roasted beans from around the world. Services like Blue Bottle, Trade Coffee, or Atlas Coffee Club deliver premium coffee tailored to their taste preferences. It’s the gift that keeps giving with every cup!

3. Pour-Over Coffee Maker

For those who love the ritual of brewing coffee, a pour-over coffee maker like the Hario V60 or Chemex is a perfect choice. Pair it with high-quality filters and freshly ground coffee to complete the gift.

4. Personalized Coffee Mugs

While tumblers are great for travel, nothing beats a cozy mug for sipping coffee at home. Consider gifting a customized ceramic mug featuring their name, a funny quote, or a design that reflects their hobbies or style.

5. Electric Milk Frother

Help them elevate their coffee game with a handheld or automatic milk frother. Perfect for creating lattes, cappuccinos, or even hot chocolate, this tool transforms a regular cup of coffee into a café-worthy experience.

6. Coffee-Themed Wall Art

Brighten their space with coffee-themed décor. Look for prints or signs with phrases like “But First, Coffee” or artistic illustrations of coffee brewing methods. Etsy is a treasure trove for unique, handcrafted designs.

7. Reusable Coffee Filters

For the eco-conscious coffee lover, a pack of reusable coffee filters is a practical and sustainable gift. Options made of stainless steel or organic cotton are long-lasting and environmentally friendly.

8. Coffee Grinder

Freshly ground beans make all the difference! An adjustable coffee grinder, whether manual or electric, allows them to enjoy their coffee at its freshest. Pair it with a bag of whole-bean coffee for an added touch.

9. Gourmet Coffee Syrups

Give them the gift of flavor with a set of gourmet coffee syrups. Popular options include vanilla, caramel, hazelnut, and seasonal favorites like pumpkin spice. Add a recipe card for fun DIY coffee creations.

10. Coffee Lover’s Gift Basket

Can’t decide? Create a gift basket filled with coffee essentials:

A custom skinny tumbler.

Premium coffee beans or grounds.

A cute coffee scoop.

Mini packets of syrups or creamers.

Chocolate-covered espresso beans or biscotti.

Wrap it all up in a stylish basket for a wow-worthy presentation.

Conclusion

From practical tools to unique custom items, these gift ideas are sure to make any coffee lover’s day brighter. Whether you opt for a personalized skinny tumbler or a subscription to their favorite beans, your thoughtful gift will keep them fueled and happy.

Looking for the perfect tumbler to start your gift shopping? Check out our exclusive collection of 20 oz skinny tumblers designed with coffee lovers in mind!

[elmaxlys]

please can you tell me about donato i appreciate your love posting and want to learn

😳❤

And I appreciate your interest in Him godbless 🙏 Genuinely from the bottom of my heart THANK YOU for asking about him however I cannot shut up once I start so this got long and increasingly unhinged as it went I hope you still enjoy reading about the Man of All Times

Donato is a side character from Tokyo Ghoul and its sequel, Tokyo Ghoul:re. He's the foster father of the first series's deuteragonist, Amon Koutarou.

In Tokyo Ghoul there are, well, ghouls - who are a human-looking species that can only survive by eating human meat (they can drink coffee but pretty much any other food is off the table for them). Donato is a ghoul.

Some ghouls hunt humans despite not wanting to, some ghouls scavenge dead bodies they find, some ghouls delight in the hunt. Donato? Oh he's a picky eater, see. Not to the extreme of the character nicknamed The Gourmet but what he likes most is children's meat. And so he held an orphanage for God knows how long and ate the kids he had there. Koutarou was one of the kids at his orphanage.

Then one day Koutarou found him killing one of the kids and understood he had been lied to all along, that none of the kids had been adopted: they'd all been eaten by the very person taking care of them - with it being implied (at least imo) he might have fed the kids some of the meat too.

What Donato means by "go along with his lie" is making Koutarou help him prepare the meat of his very siblings for his father to eat. We don't really know for how long it went on but he was pretty young. Donato never harmed Koutarou physically. Never touched him. Never ate him.

But when Koutarou was 12, despite being extremely powerful, Donato was ultimately caught by the CCG (basically police to catch and kill ghouls) and put into ghoul prison where he was able not to be executed by being a useful motherfucker. Think Hannibal Lecter kind of role. They come to consult him on cases because he doesn't give a single flying fuck about anyone that's not him so he can sell out other ghouls no problem if it means staying alive.

So useful in fact that he gets away with huh. stuff.

(he's the greatest hhhhhhhhh)

So anyway while they caught Donato, the CCG found Koutarou hiding in the huh place where they prepared the dead bodies of the kids. So they took him in like they do orphans of ghoul victims and he then became a ghoul investigator. The CCG are able to get proper answers out of Donato when they send him so they send him to ask stuff from time to time because the above will happen if it's not him. All this time, Koutarou has wondered Why Donato didn't kill him like the other kids, blinding himself to the truth that's, really, been staring at him in the face all along.

(rate SS is the highest rate a ghoul can achieve without cannibalizing on other ghouls, which Donato never did, maybe because ghouls taste disgusting to other ghouls)

(Look At His Smile) (Help) (can't keep typing, must stare at him.)

Stuff happens and Donato gets out of prison :D he decapitates the warden :DD he massacres a whole clan which has real powerful abilities with his besties after being on RC suppressants for 15 years :DDD (RC suppressants make it so a ghoul can't use their abilities, can't regenerate etc) (I'm jealous of the warden)

Later, as Stuff Happens and Donato and his besties we rarely if ever see him interact with raid Tokyo and we finally see Donato fight and lo and behold!!!!!!!

he can detach his kagune (ghoul's predatory organ) to make traps

he's so quick and precise!!!! killing a guy super precisely from super far away with his kagune just to lure his prey in the building he was standing on top of (the guy he killed was on the ground and pretty far from the building itself)

he is even MORE sadistic than we'd seen until then!!!!!!!! hhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!

Confirmation Again That He Loves His Son So Much

HE CAN CLONE HIMSELF

HE USES HIS KAGUNE + FINGERS TO MAKE CLONES OF HIMSELF AND SEND THEM TO FIGHT WHILE CONTROLLING THEM LIKE PUPPETS FROM AFAR AND THEY DISSOLVE WHEN DESTROYED

Going insane i Love this man So muchhhhh

Like he goes and lures a man (CCG investigator) in an abandoned building. Man comes with subordinate. Donato cuts off one of Subordinate's arms. Donato crucifies Man to ceiling and rips off Subordinate's second arm in front of his eyes. They talk and BIG REVEAL turns out Man's father was the one who caught Donato and put him in jail in the first place BUT in the previous arc we saw that Man had also beaten and captured Koutarou (who became a ghoul due to Mad Scientist experiments) and we know Donato and his besties (The Clowns, or Pierrot) have a super reliable information net so he definitely Knows. So!!! Is Donato taking his grudge against Man's father out on Man? Is Donato avenging his Son? Both?? These are my favorite chapters and my favorite thing in the entire sequel if you couldn't tell this is incredible INCREDIBLE he also insinuates that the reason he resents Man's father is that he took him away from his son and just. HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Also ! and this is getting super disorganized and I'm sorry, but Donato cooks! He knows how to cook human food despite being a ghoul and therefore not being able to taste human ingredients!! (or is he really a full ghoul? mystery) that's so cool ! and he bakes! he bakes donuts! his son loves sweets!!! donuts are Amon's favorite!! That's why my tag for them is "Donut Family"

And I'm not making sense by now but!!! the next time we saw him the Clowns raided Tokyo AGAIN and it's revealed Donato can TAKE CONTROL of the most POWERFUL entity in Tokyo Ghoul!!!! (a kakuja, aka a kagune armor by a cannibal ghoul, and this one being The most powerful) AND IT'S INSANE IT'S INCREDIBLE

And so Koutarou goes to stop his dad and they fight and they fight and!!!!!!!! Donato doesn't taunt, he doesn't fight back. We KNOW what he's capable of, we've SEEN IT but he doesn't do SHIT while his son is fighting to Kill and then Koutarou does manage to decapitate him after having a realization that oh shit he was also a bad person and admitting to himself that he'd actually loved his dad all along

Words said by Koutarou during the first them interaction we see VS Last words Koutarou says to Donato AND in the whole manga

INSANE STUFF

and!!!! it comes right after Donato completely and entirely demonized himself, denying any feeling he might ever have had and so all he can do is laugh (and cry. we saw him cry.)

BUT! not over.

I think Donato ISN'T DEAD because 1) during the entire last conversation he's talking as a decapitated head and unless we're in Jojo it's not possible 2) kagune can talk without lungs 3) it's Established Donato can make kagune clones that can talk and fight normally 4) we never see the rest of the body which I therefore assume just evaporated like clones do when destroyed 5) Ishida rule number 1: no body = no death

And ALSOOOOO my blog title!!! It comes from the monologue Donato has with the Man in the abandoned building, right as he's ripping the second arm from Subordinate!!!!!

TASTE HOW IT FEELS. HOW I FEEL. HOW CRUEL IT IS. CRUEL TO BE ONE OF THOSE WHO CAN ONLY BUT WATCH OVER OTHERS

quote of all times

Donato just escaped from 15 years in prisons during which he had to constantly see his son go from dangerous mission he could die in to another dangerous missions he could die in. He had to see his son actually get defeated hard while he was TRAPPED IN HIS CELL PRAYING and Koutarou did survive but got turned into a ghoul AND fuck okay fuck we know Donato knew Koutarou was alive but WE DON'T KNOW HOW HE LEARNT IT we don't know how long he believed his son was Dead okay I'm crying rn (there's also how his son got beaten down and captured in the previous arc by the very man he's got there on the ceiling)

alsooooo he's got this sliiiight god complex lol

ALSOOOO ghouls wear masks that both represent them (for example one has a white rabbit mask and she's always late, another is nicknamed No Face because 1) his mask is blank 2) he changes masks often 3) he's a mask maker) and hide their civil identity from the CCG when they hunt or fight them.

Here's how Donato uses his mask: he wears it while fighting the Man. He's hiding his feelings, he's hiding himself. He's showing a blank face of supremacy (his nickname is Crown and stuff). WHEN REVEALING HIS GRUDGE AGAINST MAN'S FATHER HE TAKES OFF HIS MASK. When he goes back to fighting he puts it back on!!!! AND in the final fight when he faces his son he takes off his mask RIGHT AWAY he fights without a mask The whole time and he looks sad and sjcdnjfvjdvfnkdjd

ALSO we learn later from a ghoul who has done that (My Favorite Woman, Roma) but ghouls who eat a lot can look younger than they are and Donato looks pretty old but he's the 3rd head of the Clowns and spent 15 years in prison, and the Founder (Roma) says she's 50 and so but she was captured when Old Geezer Head of CCG was still young and she's a professional liar so I think she's at least around a century old and Donato is necessarily older than her so I think he's around somewhere from 150 to 250 years old

I don't know if anything i've just said made sense right now I tried to be organized at first but hhhhhhhhhhhh Donato do be doing that to me

He's just. He's so great. His nickname in the CCG is both Crown and Father (as in Priest but also hhhhhhhhh). He loves his son unconditionally. He's one of the cruelest characters in Tokyo Ghoul (I put him up there in the top 5 along with Eto, Yamori, Kijima and Tokage). The only people he cares about are his son and an alter of the Main Character. He's a lying liar (saying he's not sentimental right after he went out of his way bc of his grudge against Man and Man's father For Example). He's a catholic priest who's the only character in TG not seeing any aspect of the act of Eating as an act of Love (when catholic god is love and catholics eat god's body). He canonically says fuck. Author says he's Russian but he has an Italian name + he's catholic. Author didn't even design him, he's one of two characters Author's friend designed for him. He's SO brutal. There's a panel of him holding dismembered heads BY THE SPINE like hhhhhhhh god i wish that were me

I want to include Every panel here istg he's SO GREAT and he's My Dad and I Love Him here are some posts + some panels because Look at Him

[ladysif8]

🍩 Sweet Heat 🍩

•Pairing: Firefighter Bucky Barnes/OFC

•Rating: General Audience

•Tags: Firefighter AU, Firemen Bucky, Curvy/Tall/Tattooed OFC, Firefighter Avengers, Flirting, Meet-Cute, Cat Rescue, Humor, Everyone Picks On Bucky

•Summary:

Fireman Bucky Barnes discovers the delicious doughnuts of Chubby Dough while at the local Farmers Market, and he is instantly smitten. When he meets Aria, the quirky doughnut goddess herself, sparks fly between them. However, fate intervenes when Bucky is called away on duty, missing the chance to get her number. Weeks later, fate as their paths cross again when Bucky receives a call about a cat stuck in a tree, which turns out to be Aria's.

The sky is a stretched canvas of endless blue, wisps of white clouds scattered like strokes of a painter’s brush sailing on a gentle breeze, casting fleeting shadows on the ground below. The air is filled with a warmth that wraps around everything, holding the promise of long, lazy days of adventures. It was a warm July Saturday in Pikesville, Indiana. Which only meant one thing… Farmer’s Markets.

The bustling energy made the air feel alive as the aroma of freshly picked fruits, fragrant herbs, and other seasonal produce mingled together—stalls overflowed with various colorful fruits and vegetables, showcasing the best summer harvest. Juicy, sweet watermelons, succulent peaches, and plump berries beckoned with their sweet smells and vibrant colors. Heirloom tomatoes, vibrant yellow, red, and green peppers, sweet candy onions, just-picked green beans, zucchini, and crisp cucumbers this morning. The local farmers proudly offered the fruits of their labor in their wide-brimmed hats and sun-kissed smiles. Baskets of sunflowers and bouquets of herbs add a rustic charm to the scene, and tables are filled with jars of freshly made jams and jellies. The air was filled with the enticing aroma of freshly baked bread, flaky pastries, and aromatic coffee contributions from the local artisans and bakers—stalls filled with handcrafted jewelry and pottery, offering unique treasures to discover. With booths from local organizations, the library is offering a free book per child, along with the local Police, Fire Department, and other various organizations. Conversation buzzed in the air as customers engaged with farmers and vendors alike.

Children scampered between aisles, clutching dripping ice cream cones, while families gathered around shaded picnic tables, enjoying farm-to-table meals prepared right there with nothing but the freshest ingredients by local food trucks. There was a wide variety of cuisine, such as a taco truck that specialized in authentic Mexican food, serving up mouth-watering tacos from traditional carne asada to vegetarian options—a burger truck offered everything from the classic cheeseburger to gourmet with a range of toppings. A BBQ truck known for its smokey and tender means, slow-cooked ribs, pulled pork sandwiches, brisket, and more. A pizza truck offers wood-fired oven pizzas on wheels, passing out freshly made slices or whole pies with a wide range of toppings. An Asian fusion truck is blending flavors and techniques from various Asian cuisines, serving up Korean tacos, Vietnamese banh mi sandwiches, and Thai-inspired noodle bowls. A seafood truck offers a taste of the ocean in the form of fish tacos, lobster rolls, shrimp po’boys, and other seafood delicacies. Several dessert trucks specializing in tasty ice creams, decadent pastries, cupcakes, cookies, and doughnuts of every flavor were waiting to offer up sweet treats to round off the savory meals consumed. Local musicians strummed guitars and played lively tunes, infusing the market with a cheerful melody. Under the warm sun, the farmer’s market buzzed as a hub of the community, where neighbors greeted each other with smiles and shared stories. It was a place where the spirit of summer thrived—a place to savor the flavors of summer.

"Thank you for your support," Sam said with a smile as a group of giggling teenagers hurried away with copies of the Pikesville Fire Department yearly calendar.

The local Fire Department had chosen the Pikesville Animal Welfare as the non-profit organization to support through their calendar fundraisers this year.

"That's another one for me," Sam declared, walking over and placing a crumpled twenty-dollar bill into the cash box. "How many have you sold, Barnes?" he asked Bucky.

Bucky rolled his eyes but checked the unofficial tally sheet. "Uh, thirty-two," he replied.

"Thirty-four," Sam countered, a smug smirk on his face.

"Come on, guys," Steve interjected, stepping between them.

"He's just jealous," Sam said, slipping his thumbs between his navy PFD t-shirt and the red suspenders from his turnout pants.

Bucky scoffed, "As if," he retorted, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. "I think the heat is getting to your brain; you do remember the signs of heat stroke, right, Wilson?"

"Guys," Steve warned, trying to diffuse the tension.

Just then, Natasha reappeared like a redheaded angel, holding a bright pink pastry box. She gracefully made her way around the two tables covered in red tablecloths adorned with a Pikesville Fire Department banner. The tables were stacked with calendars, each featuring a member of the PFD for every month alongside an adorable shelter animal. In addition to the calendars, a poster board was prominently displayed, showcasing pictures of the shelter animals and their names and information. The board served as a visual representation, capturing the attention and hearts of passersby. Each photograph conveyed the unique personality and charm of the animals, inviting potential adopters to learn more about them. The information provided on the board offered insights into their age, breed, and endearing traits, further encouraging visitors to consider opening their homes and hearts to these furry companions.

"Alright, boys, I have doughnuts," Tasha sang happily, her voice brimming with delight. With a cheerful demeanor, she carefully placed the box of doughnuts on the table, elegantly flipping back the lid, and stepped away, creating an alluring display of sweet treats for everyone to enjoy. "Thor, Scott, Clint, come on over. I've got doughnuts!" Tasha called out to the other members of their squad, who were gathered by the fire engine.

"Oooh, yes!" Scott exclaimed, jogging over and energetically shaking his shoulders as he rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

Clint followed suit while Thor was preoccupied with allowing a young boy to try on his helmet, drawing the attention of the boy's mother, who couldn't help but check out the tall blonde firefighter.

The aroma of freshly baked doughnuts wafted through the air. The sight of the various flavors and toppings tantalized their taste buds, drawing the guys closer to the table to choose their favorite doughnuts.

Bucky swiftly snatched a doughnut with a thick brown glaze, chopped pecans, and a drizzle of chocolate. He settled back in his chair, taking a large bite.

"Holy shit," he mumbled around his mouthful, the doughnut tasting like a decadent caramel turtle.

Sounds of approval and satisfied hums echoed throughout their tent.

“Hey Tash, where’d you get these?” Scott asked, stuffing half a doughnut into his mouth.

Steve hummed, “These are the best doughnuts I’ve ever had,” he commented, taking a much smaller bite than the man next to him.

“Chubby Dough Doughnuts,” Tasha answered, ripping a piece of the sticky fried dough. “These two girls run the truck; Yelena kept going on and on about them,” she adds before plopping the piece in her mouth.

The tent was silent as everyone chowed down, but that didn’t last long. Barton just had to open his trap.

"So, who's winning so far?" Clint asked, jelly smudges adorning his mouth.

Steve groaned, "God damn it, Clint."

"I'm glad you asked, Barton," Sam said with a smile, taking another bite of his doughnut. "It's me," he proclaimed, his voice slightly muffled by the fullness of his mouth.

"Oh man, that's gonna suck cleaning all the engines alone, Buck," Scott remarked, licking some whipped filling off the side of his hand.

Bucky grunted, unamused. "There's still plenty of time for me to wipe the floor with Sam," he retorted.

Tasha produced a napkin for Clint, who sheepishly accepted it. "No manners, the lot of you," she shook her head, playfully scolding them.

"Ha!" Sam laughed sarcastically, his tone laced with playful annoyance.

"Alright, guys, come on, do we have to do this every year?" Steve asked, looking between Bucky and Sam.

"Yes," they both answered in unison, a mischievous glint in their eyes.

Steve sighed, his exasperation evident as he dragged a hand down his face.

Fortunately, another wave of people approached the booth. Several women and a few men purchased calendars, dropping a few dollars into the jar in front of the poster board. Some of the customers requested the squad to sign their pictures, a request that the firefighters gladly obliged. With smiles on their faces, they interacted with members of the community.

A beautiful woman with raven hair approached the table, her gaze fixed on the post board displaying various animals. She reached out and picked up a calendar, flipping through its pages.

“Those animals are all just a few tents down if you’re interested in adopting any of them,” Bucky said, sauntering over to the woman with a flirtatious smirk.

She raised an eyebrow, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “Are any of the firefighters available?” Her gaze traveled up and down Bucky’s form, and she teasingly licked her lips.

"They might be. Which month caught your eye?" he asked.

The woman pondered, twisting her lips in thought. "Well, Mister July has that All-American apple pie vibe," she remarked, stealing a glance at Steve. He was engaged in conversation with an older woman, her curly white hair framing her face. It was evident that she had taken a liking to him, her hand gently resting on his forearm and a blush coloring his cheeks.

"Is that so?" Bucky asked, his voice still carrying a flirty and playful tone.

The woman stepped closer, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "But you know, Mister October has this tall, dark, and dangerous feel to him. He's the kind of guy I'd love to bring home to meet my parents, just to see their disapproval," she admitted, biting her bottom lip playfully.

Bucky winced, realizing his reaction had been more noticeable than intended. He quickly cleared his throat. "Well, we genuinely appreciate your contributions. All proceeds will go to the Animal Shelter to provide them with new equipment, enabling them to help the animals better," he explained.

The woman's eyes widened, then narrowed as she abruptly pulled a twenty-dollar bill from her wallet and slapped it onto Bucky's chest before walking away.

A low whistle caught Bucky's attention, and he turned to see Sam approaching him.

"You alright, Buck?" Sam asked, concern evident in his gaze.

Bucky frowned, turning on his heels and starting to walk around the table. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, his tone slightly curt.

"You don't look it, man," Sam pointed out, walking alongside Bucky.

Bucky let out a sigh. "It's always the same with every woman," he muttered, crossing his arms. His navy PFD t-shirt stretched across his chest, highlighting his muscular physique. "They look at me and automatically assume... well, they think I'm some sort of—"

"Fuckboy?" Sam interjected, raising an eyebrow.

Bucky's frown deepened. "Sure, let's go with that," he said, rolling his eyes in mild exasperation.

"Listen, man," Sam sighed, his voice filled with genuine concern. "You're a good guy, Barnes. You've got a good heart, you're smart and funny, and hell, you're easy on the eyes," he chuckled softly. "You'll find the one, somebody who sees beyond the surface." Sam reached out, giving Bucky's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"Thanks, Sam," Bucky replied, mustering a grateful but slightly weary smile.

Sam nodded. "No problem, man. You good?" he asked, looking for confirmation.

"Yeah, I'm good," Bucky confirmed, appreciating the support.

Sam began to walk away.

"Hey, Wilson, let's try not to go through this again, alright?" Bucky called out, slumping down into a chair. "Kinda made me feel dirty."

"Oh, fuck you, man," Sam chuckled teasingly before leaving the tent. "I'm still gonna kick your ass," Sam tossed over his shoulder with a playful grin.

Bucky chuckled and shouted, "Only in your dreams, Wilson!"

Eventually, the competition between Sam and Bucky faded into the background, but it resurfaced when Thor finally made his way over to the group.

"How goes the competition, Barnes?" Thor inquired, grabbing a doughnut from the box. "Are you kicking Wilson's ass?"

Thor's words caused Steve to almost whine in exasperation, feeling like he wanted to repeatedly bash his head against a hard surface.

"Ha! I'm at... forty-eight," Sam declared confidently.

Bucky grinned. "Fifty-two," he countered, a playful spark in his eyes.

"Ain't no way," Sam crossed his arms, showcasing his bulging biceps.

Scott leaned forward, inspecting the tally sheet. "Yeah, Barnes is right," he confirmed, his tone revealing the truth of Bucky's higher count.

The friendly rivalry between Sam and Bucky was reignited.

"Alright, knock it off, guys," Tasha interjected, her voice carrying a note of authority from her perch on the table. "You're both hot, we get it, but you're going to give our Captain an aneurysm," she playfully scolded, gesturing toward Steve.

The squad chuckled, understanding that the good-natured teasing had its limits. With a collective nod, the firefighters refocused their attention on interacting with the customers, signing calendars, and polishing off the last of the doughnuts Natasha had brought.

Taking a much-needed break from running their booth, Bucky felt a sense of relief mingled with excitement at the prospect of indulging in some delicious treats and moseying about the other stalls and booths with Steve. While he enjoyed managing their booth, he knew that a short break would do him some good. The delightful aromas from the food trucks wafted through the air, luring them closer with each step.

Steve turned to Bucky, inquiring about his lunch preference, "What are you in the mood for?"

With a smile, the brunette replied, "That BBQ smells amazing."

Steve enthusiastically agreed, "Sounds good to me, as long as we make a stop at that doughnut truck before we head back Thor said they have blueberry streusel doughnuts."

Bucky chuckled, appreciating their love for food, “I knew you were my best friend for a reason.”

“I hope that’s not the only reason,” Steve chuckled, elbowing Bucky playfully.

Fifteen short minutes later, Bucky and Steve were happily munching on a little dish of crispy golden brown tater tots topped with sweet, smokey, and tangy pulled pork drenched in BBQ sauce, a drizzle of nacho cheese, thin slices of red onion, chopped green onions, and jalapeno slices from the BBQ food truck. As they strolled through the bustling stalls, they enjoyed their lunch and chatted with old high school friends and other folks from the community. They leisurely made their way around the market, pausing at tables filled with tempting goods.

"Oh man," Steve sighed contentedly as he tossed his little paper dish into the trash. "That was delicious," he said, stretching his arms above his head.

Bucky nodded in agreement, quickly finishing his last bite before following Steve's lead and disposing of his paper dish in the trash.

"Man, I'm so full," Bucky groaned, patting his belly as he walked alongside Steve, the band playing a cover of some Charlie Daniels song.

"Too stuffed for doughnuts?" Steve quipped, raising an eyebrow.

Bucky gave him an exaggerated hurt expression, shaking his head, “And here I thought we were friends—"

“—Best friends," Steve corrected with a grin.

" Right, right, best friends,” Bucky amended, “I'm utterly appalled you'd ever think I'm a quitter," he retorted, pretending to be outraged.

Steve couldn’t help but laugh at his friend’s expression as they joined the line at Cubby Dough Doughnuts.

"Oh, my bad, I forgot Mama Barnes didn't raise a quitter,” Steve teased, playfully nudging Bucky’s arm with his elbow.

“Damn straight; now, let’s if the beautiful doughnut goddesses can entice me into taking just on—”

Bucky’s words faded away as he got entranced by the captivating woman with a dark, messy bun, a neon green sticking out the side, her smokey eye makeup, and mesmerizing hazel blue eyes—a mix of brown, green, and blue that looked like a cosmic swirl framed in with dark thick-rimmed glasses, cute little button nose, her lip was a sight to behold with the most alluring shade of pink he had ever seen, a natural cupid’s bow—a perfectly formed curve that gave her smile this irresistible charm. She had on a black t-shirt, hot pink frosting, and bright pink letters with sprinkles, proudly stating Donut Squad, and when she turned around, he noticed the back of her shirt was the name Chubb Dough. Her smile was dazzling; he watched as she tucked a whisp of hair behind her ear, the many colorful bracelets around her wrist catching the light. Bucky was intrigued.

“Buck?” Steve said, trying to contain his laughter as he lightly chuckled, attempting to get his friend’s attention.

Still entranced by the doughnut goddess, Bucky turned to Steve with a dreamy look in his eyes. “I think I might be in doughnut heaven,” Bucky mumbled to Steve.

"Holy smokes, dude," Darcy groaned, leaning her head against the compact refrigerator. "They just keep coming and coming," she mumbled, opening the door to grab a water bottle.

Aria chuckled, "Isn’t that the point?" she asked, taking another tray of doughnuts from the warmer.

"I mean, I guess; I don't know why I let you talk me into this hair-brain scheme of yours," Darcy said, taking a long drink from the bottle.

"Ha! Because really, I had to twist your arm," Aria replied dryly, carrying the tray to the work table. "You know you secretly love this doughnut-making adventure!" she teased, rolling her eyes playfully.

Darcy couldn't resist teasing her friend further. She reached over and pinched Aria's cheek, playfully saying in a baby voice, "It's so hard to say no to this cute little face," while patting Aria's cheek.

Aria playfully batted Darcy's hand away, giving her a mock glare. "Yeah, yeah, very funny," she said, trying to suppress a smile.

The dinging of a bell echoed throughout the small food truck.

"Ah, they summon me," Darcy sighed, finishing off her bottle of water. "The public awaits," she announced with a playful flourish, crushing the bottle and making her way back to the front window, ready to serve the hungry customers.

Aria playfully rolled her eyes at Darcy's dramatic announcement. She then grabbed an icing bag filled with delicious cheesecake icing, adjusting her hold on the small bag. Starting at one end of the tray, she skillfully gave each golden brown, perfectly cooked doughnut a delightful drizzle of creamy and tangy icing, followed by their rich caramel sauce and decadent chocolate ganache to the doughnuts, making sure each one was beautifully coated. She artfully sprinkled chopped pecans across the top as a finishing touch, completing the mouthwatering treat—the enticing aroma of freshly made doughnuts filled the air, enticing the eagerly waiting customers.

Cubby Dough had humble beginnings as a tiny pop-up camper that Aria and Darcy purchased from a questionable gentleman on Craigslist. They embarked on the ambitious project of gutting and remodeling the entire camper themselves, and it was no easy task. They spent countless late nights watching YouTube videos, trying to figure out how to connect the plumbing and make everything work. Thankfully, Aria's Dad came to the rescue, offering his years of experience and a helping hand with his tools. With their determination and his guidance, within six months, Chubby Dough was finally transformed into a mobile doughnut haven. That was four years ago, and since then, the little food truck has been delighting customers with its delectable treats all over the southern part of the state.

Today the food truck is built on a 22ft trailer with black sheet metal sides and roof, giving it a modern and sleek appearance. The silver servicing window is not only functional but also adds a contrasting element to the black and wooden features; it can be easily closed and locked for security when the food truck is not in operation; outside the window is a practical butcher block counter bar on the outside, where customers are greeted. The wooden trim around the windows adds a touch of warmth and rustic charm to the overall look. Inside is a compacted modern kitchen, a double fryer, a large proofer, a warmer, and all the necessities one needs to operate a food truck; a large butcher block workspace and prep tables provide ample space for food preparation and serving. The crowning glory is the light-up sign that proudly displays the truck's name, "Chubby Dough," drawing attention and helping customers easily recognize and locate the food truck.

As the morning rush settled down, Aria and Darcy decided to switch spots; Darcy had reached her limit dealing with customers at the front.

"I'm just not built to deal with people," Darcy grumbled, washing her hands in the sink.

Aria couldn't help but laugh. "You're in the wrong business, my dude," she teased, finding humor in her friend's confession.

Darcy chuckled at Aria's playful response and played along, giving Aria an exaggeratedly sad expression. "Oh, I know, right?” she said dramatically. “It's a never-ending doughnut-filled nightmare," she joked, pretending to be overwhelmed.

Aria gave her a mock sympathetic look. "Oh, poor Darcy," she said, trying to hold back a laugh. "It must be so tough," she added before bursting into laughter.

As the pace picked up once more, doughnuts were flying out of the window as fast as Aria and Darcy could make them. They were in sync, their teamwork seamless as they worked together to keep up with the demand. It was a flurry of dough, icing, and toppings, all coming together in perfect harmony. The little food truck was once again buzzing with excitement, and the smiles on their customers' faces made all the hard work worthwhile.

Aria quickly excused herself, saying, "Give me just a second," as she grabbed a fresh notepad and reached for the green pen that was stuck in her messy bun. She spoke as she turned back around; she looked up to take the next-in-line orders. “Chub…Chubby Do—” she said, stumbling over her words.

One of the men was tall, sporting short blonde hair and baby blue eyes with a subtle hint of green around the iris. He had a solid and muscular build, dressed in a navy PFD shirt that emphasized his strength.

The other man was just an inch shorter than the blonde, with curly brown hair on top and tapered sides. His mesmerizing blue eyes resembled a stormy summer evening, bringing back memories of the scent of rain-soaked earth. His handsome face was adorned with a cleft chin and a set of the prettiest pink lips. Like his companion, he also wore a navy PFD shirt that barely contained his well-defined and impressive muscles.

Aria was taken aback, almost losing her balance in the process. She managed to offer a slightly awkward smile. "Welcome to Chubby Dough... Uh, what can I get you, gentlemen?" She quickly corrected herself as she almost knotted her pen in her hair.

The tall blonde man smiled warmly, his baby blue eyes twinkling with amusement. "You were close," he said with a gentle chuckle. "I'll have two of your blueberry streusel doughnuts, please."

The man with the captivating stormy blue eyes flashed a playful grin, making Aria’s heart flutter. As he glanced at the menu, he asked in a smooth and inviting voice, “What’s your favorite?”

Aria’s nerves got the best of her, and she pointed to herself, feeling like more of an awkward mess than she already was. “M-mine?” she stammered, blushing under his gaze. The man nodded, his smile still warm and encouraging. “Oh, uh, Jesus,” she muttered, nervously licking her lips as she pushed up her glasses.

He raised a curious eyebrow, intrigued by her reaction, then looked at the menu again. “I’ll take one of those,” he said, pointing to her favorite doughnut, “and a maple bacon, please.”

Aria nodded, trying her best not to make a fool out of herself further. "Sure thing! Two blueberry streusel, one Jesus, and one maple bacon coming right up," she replied, writing down their order on the notepad, trying to hide her flustered state while secretly thrilled that he had chosen her recommendation.

As she turned to start preparing their doughnuts, Darcy peeked over her shoulder, curious about the sudden change in her friend's demeanor. Aria couldn't help but blush slightly, secretly hoping she looked presentable despite the messy bun and lime green pin.

"Hey, who are these fine-looking specimens?" Darcy whispered teasingly, earning a playful nudge from Aria.

"Just focus on your doughnut-making, will you?" Aria whispered back, glancing over her shoulder at the two men chatting outside the truck.

“You’re no fun,” Darcy grumbled, heading back toward the fryer.

Darcy's pouty face made Aria chuckle as she continued working on the doughnuts. Every morning hours before an event, Aria and Darcy would head out early, starting on their batter for the day; they would start frying until the first customer arrived. By then, the warmers were filled with tray after tray of freshly fried doughnuts, each doughnut that left through Chubby Dough's window was freshly made to order, it was a bit time-consuming, but it was worth the short wait.

Aria started with two plain golden-brown doughnuts, dipping each in a thin white glaze. She added their homemade blueberry compote and topped them with a delightful streusel. Moving on, she took two more doughnuts and dipped one in a thick maple glaze, generously adding chunks of maple bacon. The other doughnut was lightly coated in a thin glaze before being tossed in cinnamon sugar, its top dipped into a vanilla frosting and topped with a drizzle of thick gooey caramel.

As Darcy assembled a box for the four heavenly treats, she playfully pointed out, "You know that guy keeps looking in here at you."

Curious, Aria glanced over her shoulder to see the brunette with stormy blue eyes giving her a wide, flirtatious smile. A hint of a blush crept up her cheeks, but she tried to maintain her composure while finishing the doughnut orders.

Aria carefully transferred the beautifully crafted doughnuts into the bright pink box that Darcy had left on her table. She looked down at the delectable treats, feeling a sense of pride in her creations. Closing the box, she made her way to the window and set it down on the countertop outside. Turning to the tablet used for processing payments, she greeted the two men with a friendly smile.

“Alright, gentlemen, your total is $16.20 after the first responder discount,” Aria said, glancing over at the two men.

Before the blonde man could even react, the brunette quickly pulled out his wallet and handed over a twenty-dollar bill. “Keep the change,” he said with a playful wink, taking charge of the payment.

Aria felt her heart race a little faster, but she managed to nod in response, inwardly cursing her nervousness. “Th—thank you,” she stammered, trying her best to keep her cool.

“Have a good one, ma’am,” the blonde said with a warm smile as he took the box of doughnuts. He nudged the brunette, who seemed entranced by Aria, prompting him to stumble back a few steps before they both walked away.

As Aria bit her lip, trying to hide her smile, she celebrated her small victory before she noticed that the brunette was still looking back at her with a wild grin. Her face flushed with embarrassment, and she quickly ducked back inside the truck, trying to hide from his gaze. The whole encounter left her heart racing, and she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d see him again.

Steve's excitement was evident as he eagerly opened the lid to the bright pink box, revealing the array of sticky sweet, and fresh doughnuts inside. The delightful aroma wafted into his face, making his mouth water.

"I think I'm in love," Bucky sighed dreamily, unable to resist the temptation of the delectable treats as he snatched one of his doughnuts out of the box. He took a large bite, “Jesus,” he mumbled with his mouthful looking down at the doughnut in his hand.

Steve paused with his doughnut almost at his mouth, giving Bucky a playful look. "With the doughnut or the girl?” he asked, laughing.

“Do they have to be mutually exclusive?” Bucky asked before taking another bite.

Steve chuckled at Bucky's response, thoroughly enjoying the banter between them. "Fair enough," he said, taking a bite of his doughnut. "Guess you can have your doughnut and eat it too," he teased before devouring the rest of his treat.

Bucky grinned, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Who says I can't have the best of both worlds?" he replied, savoring another mouthful of the delectable doughnut. They continued to enjoy their sweet indulgence on their way back to the Fire Department’s booth.

As Aria and Darcy finished packing up the food truck, they couldn't help but feel exhaustion and satisfaction from another successful day at Cubby Dough. It wasn't their first time running out of doughnuts, but they knew it meant they had served plenty of happy customers. The two friends decided to take advantage of their free afternoon and treat themselves. They locked up the truck and made their way to the farmers market, excited to explore and indulge in some of the delicious offerings from other vendors.

The farmers market was still bustling with activity, and Aria and Darcy relished in the sights and sounds around them. It was a well-deserved break for the duo, a chance to relax and enjoy the vibrant atmosphere of the local community.

“Oh hey, look who it is,” Darcy pointed toward the Pikesville Fire Department’s booth. “It’s the smokin’ hot fireman,” she says as the pair look through a display of hand-painted vases.

Darcy's playful comment about the "smokin' hot fireman" caught Aria's attention, and she followed Darcy's finger to spot the brunette at the Pikesville Fire Department's booth.

"Oh, cool, come on," Aria said, attempting to steer in the opposite direction.

Darcy was quick to intervene, snatching her friend's hand. "Ah ah ah," she chuckled, "Where do you think you're going?"

Aria blinked at her friend, puzzled by the question. "Isn't it obvious? Anywhere but near him, duh," she replied with a sheepish grin, trying to hide her mild embarrassment.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Darcy shook her head, laughing; she tugged Aria toward the booth.

When she got into this playful and determined mood, Aria knew better than to argue or stop Darcy. With a resigned sigh, she reluctantly followed her friend toward the Pikesville Fire Department's booth. Aria braced herself for whatever fun or mischief Darcy had in mind as they approached the booth.

A short blonde man greeted them warmly as they approached the table, offering them a Firemen's calendar to support the Pikesville Animal Welfare.

Darcy couldn't resist flipping through the calendar and teasingly muttered to Aria, "I'm gonna have to set my house on fire. Take a look at these guys." She tilted the calendar towards her friend, showcasing the tall blonde fireman who had come with the brunette. He was photographed wearing nothing but patriotic swim trunks and aviators, his chest glistening, and a flirty smile on his lips as he sprayed a hose; the golden retriever next to him was living her best life chomping at the water.

"Darcy," Aria said, trying to hide her amusement.

 Aria couldn't help but be drawn to the poster board displaying animals available for adoption. Among them was a black cat named Smokey, with shiny black fur and beautiful yellow eyes. She found herself contemplating the idea of adopting him.

Darcy's amused voice interrupted her thoughts, still ogling the firefighters' calendar. "I wouldn't even think about it," she advised. "Doom wouldn't even look at you for a week after you brought your goldfish home; I can't imagine how she'll react if you bring another cat home."

Aria frowned, acknowledging that Darcy had a valid point. Doom Kitty, her temperamental feline companion, was not the easiest to get along with. Despite her delicate appearance and sweet meow, she had a feisty side and often showed her claws to anyone other than Aria. Even with Aria, she sometimes seemed more tolerated than genuinely liked.

"Well, hello there, Mr. October," Darcy playfully sang out, cocking her head to the side. "Aria, you gotta see this," she said, turning the calendar toward her friend.

Aria blinked as the calendar was thrust into her face, and her eyes fell upon the stormy blue-eyed man, shirtless with red suspenders against his tanned, toned physique; his chest had a fine dusting of hair across it, dark pink nipples, the hair seem to disappear over his well defined six pack the dusting of dark hair narrowing just under his navel disappearing into the slung low waistband of his turnout pants, showing off his Adonis belt. He stood on a ladder propped against a beautiful tree with vibrant autumn leaves in reds, browns, orange, and yellow hues. Surrounding the tree were jack-o-lanterns and hay bales, adding to the seasonal charm. He firmly gripped the ladder in one hand while the other held a black cat against his naked torso. He smiled, half-smirking for the camera, his disheveled brown hair adding a hint of charm to his rugged appearance. The picture defiantly captured the essence of October and the spirit of the season.

"I can get him to sign that for you," the short blonde said with a friendly smile. He leaned over the table, propping his head on his elbows as he looked up at them.

Aria and Darcy exchanged glances, Darcy excited and mischievous, while Aria silently begged her friend not to go through with it. "Oh, that would be amazing!" Darcy exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with mischief, clearly ignoring her friend's silent plea.

Aria couldn't help but glare at Darcy, trying to convey her reluctance. "Oh, you really don't have to," she said to the friendly fireman, mustering a smile.

The short blonde nodded, his warm smile never fading. "Nonsense!" he assured them with a wave of his hand. "It's for a good cause, after all."

"Oh, I'm Darcy, by the way," she introduced herself with a smile, holding out her hand to the man.

"Clint," he replied, shaking her hand.

Darcy couldn't resist adding a playful twist to the introduction. "Oh, and this is Aria; she totally has a thing for Mr. October," Darcy grinned wickedly, teasing her friend.

Aria's face flushed with embarrassment, and she playfully nudged Darcy, trying to downplay the comment. "Ignore her, please," she said, chuckling softly. Clint chuckled, too, finding their banter amusing.

Clint playfully drummed his hand on the table. "Don't move, ladies. I'll be right back," he winked before quickly turning on his heels and jogging towards the fire engine.

Aria couldn't help but hiss at Darcy, feeling embarrassed. "I hate you," she whispered through clenched teeth.

Darcy laughed at her friend's reaction, teasingly insisting, "No, you don't. You love me," she said with a mischievous grin, knowing that Aria's frustration was all in good fun.

Clint couldn’t resist teasing his friend as he approached Bucky and Steve. “Hey Buck, got a pretty lady over here that has a thing for Mr. October,” he said with a sly grin.

Bucky’s interest was piqued, and he looked up eagerly. “Oh yeah?” he asked, licking his lips with curiosity.

Clint playfully pointed to the two women standing in front of their table, drawing Bucky’s attention to Aria and Darcy.

One of them had her hair braided in playful pigtails; she was dressed in denim capris and the same black t-shirt he had seen earlier. As Bucky’s eyes landed on the woman standing next to her friend, he couldn’t help but be captivated by her appearance all over again. Her hair was down from its messy bun, and the sunlight caught the purple hues mixed into her dark locks, adding a touch of uniqueness to her look. Now that he had the opportunity, Bucky let his eyes roam down her full body; he’d missed the purple crystal necklace hanging around her neck, resting on her full breast that stretched out the shirt. He licked his lips, admiring her soft-looking tummy, wondering how her curves would feel under his hands. God bless whoever made those denim shorts hugging her plump ass and thick thighs showing off her beautifully tattooed legs; Bucky wanted to get more aquatinted with legs.

“Oh ho ho,” Steve chuckled, playfully slapping Bucky’s shoulder. “Looks like the doughnut goddess has heard your prayers,” he teased, referring to Aria, who seemed to have captured Bucky’s attention.

Bucky laughed along, giving Steve a mock-annoyed look. “Yeah, yeah,” he replied, rolling his eyes in good humor.

As Bucky and Steve followed Clint over to where the women stood, they were introduced to the charming duo.

Clint pointed to Steve and said, “Ladies, this here is our Captain Steve Rogers, aka Mr. July.” Steve gave a friendly nod to Darcy and Aria, acknowledging the introduction.

Next, Clint gestured toward Bucky and said with a playful grin, “And this here is our Lieutenant Bucky Barnes, aka Mr. October.” He wagged his brows in Aria’s direction, adding a touch of flirtatiousness to the introduction.

Aria’s cheeks turned even redder, and she felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her. The playful teasing and unexpected attention made her feel flustered, and she wished she could disappear.

“Aria here has a thing for Mr. October and wants him to sign her calendar,” Clint announced with a playful smile.

Bucky raised a curious eyebrow, “Is that so?” he asked, a smirk playing on his pretty pink lips as he held his hand out for the calendar. Which Darcy quickly handed over.

Aria was beginning to wonder if one could die from embarrassment. “I like black cats,” she blurted out awkwardly. Desperately wishing for a giant hole could appear and swallow her up.

Bucky chuckled warmly and teased, “I hope that’s not all you liked,” he winked, signing his name to the corner.

Aria’s cheeks reddened further; she was going to murder Darcy.

Before anyone could speak, a series of urgent tones came through the radio attached to Steve and Bucky’s belt, and everyone around the booth stilled to listen.

“Engine two, this is Central Dispatch—code 3. We have a report of a structure fire on 708 North Maple Street. Please respond immediately,” the voice on the other end urgently relayed.

Steve wasted no time and reached up to press the button on his microphone. “Engine two, Roger, over,” he replied promptly, his voice steady and focused.

Aria and Darcy stood in awe as Steve, Bucky, and Clint sprang into action, their years of training evident in their swift movements. The fire engine stood ready, its sirens blaring as the crew readied themselves to respond to the emergency; turnout gear seemingly appeared out of thin air as they efficiently dressed.

As the engine roared to life, Bucky gave Aria a reassuring wink before climbing aboard. Steve and Clint exchanged quick glances before they joined Bucky on the engine. In a matter of seconds, they were off, racing towards the structure fire. The engine’s sirens faded into the distance.

Inside the fire engine, Bucky glanced over at Steve, a hint of regret evident on his face. “I should have gotten her number,” he admitted, speaking into the coms.

Steve chuckled, a playful tone in his voice, “You didn’t write yours down when you signed the calendar?”

Bucky’s expression turned sheepish, and he shrugged, “Guess I was too focused on not tripping over my words.”

Clint, who was listening in on the conversation, chimed in with a teasing remark, “Smooth move, Barnes.”

Bucky rolled his eyes good-naturedly, “Thanks for the support, guys.”

Just then, Sam’s voice joined the coms, adding to the banter, “Hey, Bucky, don’t worry. You’ve got the charm of a superhero. I’m sure she won’t forget you that easily.”

Thor’s booming voice followed suit, “Indeed! Fear not, my friend. Many a warrior has stumbled in the presence of a fair maiden. It happens to the best of us!”

Natasha, who had been quiet until now, couldn’t resist joining in, “Oh, come on, boys. Give him a break. We’ve all been there. It’s not easy to flirt when your heart is racing faster than Quicksilver.” She winked at him.

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at his friends’ comments. “Thanks, appreciate the pep talk.”

As the engine continued toward the scene of the fire, their camaraderie and playful banter lifted their spirits amidst the intensity of the situation.

Two weeks later….

“Doom, please come down,” Aria begged, her voice filled with concern as she looked up into the giant oak tree in her front yard. “Come on, Doom Kitty, please.”

The feline, perched high on a large branch, meowed softly, seemingly indifferent to Aria’s pleas. It stretched out leisurely, basking in the comfort of its elevated spot.

Aria’s heart sank with worry as she tried to coax the stubborn cat down. She sighed, reaching up as if she could physically coax the cat down. “I don’t know how you managed to get up there,” she said, half-amused and half-exasperated.

Doom let out another tiny meow as if acknowledging Aria but showed no intention of budging from its lofty perch.

Suddenly, Darcy appeared by Aria’s side, eating a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. “Still not budging?” she asked, looking up at the tree.

“It’s Doom Kitty; she doesn’t do anything she doesn’t want to do,” Aria replied, gesturing upward with one hand while the other rested on her hip.

Darcy chuckled, observing the defiant feline. “Looks like she’s quite content up there.”

“Yeah, I think she’s just enjoying the view,” Aria said with a small smile, but her concern was still evident.

The two friends exchanged glances before Darcy suggested, “Why don’t we try shaking the treat bag? Maybe that’ll tempt her down.”

Aria nodded, liking the idea. “Good thinking. Let’s give it a shot.”

As Darcy came back with the treat bag, Aria held her breath, praying Doom would actually be tempted by the treats. The sound of the treats rattling inside seemed to pique Doom’s curiosity. The cat perked up, its ears twitching.

“Come on, Doom Kitty,” Aria called gently, shaking the bag a bit more.

The feline looked around and then down at her owner, almost glaring as she turned around.

As minutes passed, and Doom showed no signs of budging, Aria's worry escalated. "I don't know what to do," she said, her voice tinged with concern.

Darcy pulled out her phone. "I think we should call for help," she suggested. "Let's dial the fire department. They'll have the right tools to get her down safely."

“Uh, no, I don’t think were—

“Too late,” Darcy interrupted happily as she walked back towards the house to explain the situation to the operator.

Aria sighed, defeated, “This is all you’re fault,” she grumbled, scowling at the cat in the tree.

Within minutes, the sound of sirens filled the air, and the fire engine pulled up in front of Aria's house.

Aria recognized the familiar figure stepping out of the fire engine, and her heart sank. It was Bucky; she couldn’t help but notice how good he looked in his turnout gear. The jacket hung open, revealing a navy PFD shirt underneath, and his hair appeared slightly disheveled and sweaty. When their eyes met, Bucky smirked, seemingly amused by Aria’s flushed cheeks and embarrassed expression. Aria couldn’t help but feel self-consciousness under his gaze.

“Hey there, Aria,” he greeted warmly, his voice carrying a hint of playful teasing. "I hear we have a daring feline in a tree?"

“Hey, Hi, um, Bucky,” Aria managed, pushing up her glasses, feeling a mix of relief and awkwardness at the same time. "Yes, that's Doom," she said, gesturing towards the tree. “I’m sorry, Darcy called; it’s just so cliché. Cat stuck up in a tree,” she rambled.

Bucky chuckled, his blue eyes twinkling. “It’s no problem at all; it’s not every day I get to rescue a pretty girl's kitty from a tree,” he replied, his smirk never leaving his lips.

Aria giggled; she actually giggled. Now she has to move out of town, out of the state, and change her name and hair color.  Bucky winked at her before he addressed the other two firefighters with him.

Aria and Darcy watched with careful coordination as a ladder extended into the tree; Bucky climbed up it. They watched as Bucky expertly made his way up the tree, reaching out toward Doom with gentle gestures.

"Hey there, Doom Kitty," he called softly, trying to calm the agitated feline. "No need to be scared. I won't hurt you."

However, Doom was having none of it. The closer Bucky got, the more she hissed and growled, clearly not pleased with this unexpected visitor in her domain.

Bucky kept his cool, softening his voice, "It's alright, girl. I just want to help you get down safely," he said, trying to soothe her nerves.

Aria and Darcy watched with concern and amusement as Bucky engaged in a subtle "dance" with Doom Kitty, attempting to gain her trust. There were several swipes with her claws extended at Bucky’s hand; he tugged the glove off, offering the feisty feline his hand for her to sniff. Finally, after a few tense moments, Doom's agitation seemed to subside slightly. She stopped hissing and growling, allowing Bucky to move closer.

"There we go, girl," Bucky said gently, inching closer to Doom with caution. "You're doing great."

With a few more patient efforts, Bucky reached Doom and gently cradled her in his arms. He carefully made his way back down the tree, ensuring the safety of both himself and the feisty feline.

Once they were safely on the ground, Aria rushed forward to take Doom into her arms, relieved to have her furry friend back on solid ground.

“Doom Kitty,” she sighed, taking the grumpy cat from Bucky’s arms. “Thank you,” she said, biting her bottom lip and looking up at the fireman through her lashes.

Doom looked around, seemingly unimpressed by the whole situation. Her feline eyes met Aria’s, and for a moment, it almost seemed as if Doom was giving her owner a disapproving glare.

Aria couldn’t help but chuckle at the comical expression on her cat’s face. “Oh, don’t give me that look, Doom,” she teased affectionately. “You’re the one who got yourself into that mess.”

Doom flicked her tail in response as if to say, “I did it my way.”

Bucky joined in the laughter, finding Doom’s attitude amusing. “She’s got quite the personality,” Bucky remarked, reaching out to pet the cat.

Aria chuckled, feeling a bit more at ease in Bucky's presence. "That's an understatement," she said, rubbing Doom's head affectionately. “She’s a little diva.”

Doom purred contently, enjoying the attention despite her earlier defiance.

As the rest of the team finished packing their equipment, Bucky stepped closer to Aria. “You know, despite the chaos, I’m glad we got to see each other again,” he said with a hint of sincerity.

Aria blushed even more, her heart fluttering at the genuine sentiment in his words. “Yeah, me too,” she admitted, trying to gather her thoughts through her nerves.

Bucky leaned in slightly, his voice lower and filled with charm. “My shift ends in two hours; maybe we could grab a coffee or something together?” he suggested a hopeful glimmer in his eyes.

“I’d like that,” she replied, mustering a confident smile.

As the two of them exchanged numbers, Bucky promised to text her later that day to set up a time for their coffee date. Aria felt excitement and anticipation as she watched him climb back into the fire engine. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched him drive away.

Aria felt a sense of possibility in the air. There was something different about this encounter with Bucky, something that made her heart flutter with the start of something new.

As she stood there, the cool breeze gently brushing against her cheeks, Aria realized that Doom’s mischievous adventure had unexpectedly led her to a chance encounter with Bucky.

“You didn’t plan that, did you?” she asked Doom.

“Murph,” Doom Kitty replied.

Aria raised an eyebrow, “I don’t believe you,” she mumbled, walking back inside her house; Aria’s phone buzzed, and she eagerly checked her messages.

It was Bucky, just as he promised, setting up their coffee date for later that day. Her excitement grew as she replied enthusiastically, looking forward to spending more time with him. Aria couldn’t help but feel the sparks of something special in the air as she lay on the couch that afternoon. She knew that this unexpected meeting had the potential to lead to new beginnings, and she embraced the feeling with an open heart.

Little did she know that the adventurous spirit of her mischievous grumpy cat and the bravery of the firefighter who came to her rescue had set the stage for a beautiful connection that would blossom into a meaningful journey together.

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[il-mostrc]

The flame of the kerosene lamp that stood under the cylinder water conduit flicked off as the water inside evaporated into steam, lifting the weight and triggering the automatic shut-off. Water filtered down the brass tube, pouring into the chamber where the fine coffee grounds settled in the glass. It boiled and brewed from the heat and soon enough was siphoned into another chamber, where the coffee emerged from the turn of the spigot.

Smooth, with no ounce of grounds within, it was met with a spoonful of sugar and a stainless steel mixing instrument. The coffee was given to Melissa (@stingslikeabee) with just as much care as he performed to create it. He filled his own glass, finally lifting his eyes to focus on her. The sun had barely begun to breathe on the horizon, a lazy fog lifting from the vantage point out his kitchen windows. The robins, with their morning song, started their light, trilling sounds that were muffled but still heard over the making of a fresh brew.

The early bird gets the worm. In this case, she was able to taste his fine gourmet coffee and take in the sight of his piped shawl dressing gown as he constructed once more in the laboratory that is his kitchen--his ability to create and subsequently destroy is an ongoing motif he enjoys entertaining. Much like God, who enjoys the work of suffering unto his ever-faithful.

Hannibal's eyes never strayed from the hand that lifted and lightly brushed aside some of his unruly hair (hardly so) while his lips brushed the surface of the now warmed glass edge. The micro expression that he wears at times never betrays his feelings at the moment; in this case, he purses his lips together to taste the flavors of the coffee beans before speaking.

"Forgiveness is a profound, conscious and unconscious state of affairs that you cannot do on your own - it happens or it doesn't to you." A curl of a smile. "In this instance, I forgive you." Hands warmed from the coffee's heat, he brings them to delicately trace the edge of her jaw leading up to the shell of her ear, tucking an unruly strand of hair behind. "Now, do you forgive me?"

It was unsurprising that the good doctor looked as regal in a robe as he did in his own impeccable tailored suits. It begged the question if Hannibal Lecter had ever been messy or unkempt at any given moment of his life, even as a child playing outside or perhaps during surgery at his time as an active surgeon. It seemed outlandish to entertain the thought that he was not in control of every single factor in relation to his appearance. And yet - there were subtle changes when compared to the man that frequented the local dinner parties and the opera. These chinks in that armor had first appeared over intense investigation in relation to the origin of certain art pieces, then at the kitchen when preparing a full feast for guests... But now, on the very first hours of the morning and while brewing coffee, it was the most noticeable it had ever been. Melissa was meticulous about her looks, as well - but less so in private, particularly to those who had earned the right (or the privilege) to be so close, without the company of staff or anyone else. It was easier to discard the persona of the controversial countess and be just a woman who had done terrible things to survive - and was unlikely to refrain if necessary at any given moment. The woman would not be caged again - and it showed in how she approached the doctor with a smile, parking at his side before taking to the counter as an improvised seat to steal his attention once the beverage was ready. Under his gaze, the countess leaned forward - and a hand reached out to gingerly touch his hair, still soft and out of the usual hair style presented to the general public. "I should have asked for permission," Melissa said by means of acknowledgment of the prior action, however distinctively lacking remorse, "But I would rather ask for your forgiveness instead."

[faffreux]

I shall ask here … outside of the frankenstein au have you ever thought abt how jolliful would celebrate Halloween if they do 🤔

I got this question from an anon as well so @ that anon, here's your answer too!

Okay, so TWO things come to mind that they would absolutely be up to! 1. PRANKS. SO MANY PRANKS. Think about the opportunities for scaring the general populace when you have an army of robots at your disposal lmfao. Fawful and Jolligig dressing up would be optional (even though they will not pass up an opportunity to do so!) because they can build a whole host of costumes for robots of varying sizes and create an entire scenario instead... Dead bodies on the ground, anyone? monsters? How about putting a mask and robe over a Fawfulcopter and creating a flying ghoul? If it can be done they'll probably find a way to do it! Jolligig would be the type to snap photos of everyone's scared faces and then the two of them would laugh over tea and candy later that night at all different kinds of horrified looks that have been immortalized, lmao.

2. Fawful uses trick or treating as an opportunity to get a wide of variety of people to try his new recipes aka he just gives out a bunch of gourmet treats that he handmade himself!! (Not at all dangerous or fattening, for once! He'd be very genuine about this.) Jolligig of course would do the same, just with his various drinks.

"I hope you lot like coffee! This is a new flavor I whipped up this week!" He says as he hands a strangely fizzy espresso to a teenager. (But don't worry, it's actually NOT poisonous this time!)

[ex-shark-virtue-005]

Things I noticed about Canada/Quebec:

-Maple syrup is cheap as HELL. I bought a 250 ml bottle of gourmet, coffee infused maple syrup for roughly $12.50 USD. But regular 500 ml cans sold for roughly $10.50 USD, which is what 250 ml bottles sell for in the US.

-Subway and A&W are the most popular fast food restaurants in Quebec. We saw fewer than 10 McDonald's and only 1 Burger King. There were also like three Starbucks total and those felt like more an obligatory "for the tourists" type thing. There were Tim Hortons on every corner though.

-I saw maybe 5 pick-up trucks total, all 5 were driven by construction workers. I saw more Lamborghinis than pick-up trucks in Quebec.

-Quebec City was by FAR the cleanest city I've been to even with the massive music festival in the area. The days after Nickelback and 50 Cent outdoor concerts brought tens of thousands of people to the area there was no litter on the ground the following day.

- Shopping malls are alive and well in Canada. We went to three different malls and drove by at LEAST five total. And unlike malls in America, there were hardly any closed shops.

-Book stores sell just about everything. Books, cooking gadgets, stationary, toys, puzzles, games, one of the book stores we went to sold full-sized digital pianos and acoustic and electric guitars.

-Every car had a ton of splattered bugs on the front.