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cosmicalily · 17 days ago

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"pilates princess" a changbin oneshot by @cosmicalily

author's note: i was talking to @thevampywolf this morning about how there's a proper lack of changbin fluff fics on tumblr atm and i decided to make it my mission of the day to change that! i absolutely love binnie, he's the silliest, sweetest guy and i was thinking of how to blend his gym obsession with his adorable personality, and a (very much so in love) pilates princess was born!!

Seo Changbin did not have time for girls.

According to his roommate, Han Jisung, his one and only true love was the gym, where he spent almost every spare second of his day. His diet consisted of protein powder, chicken breasts, green smoothies and instant ramen. He only drank cold brews with absolutely no sugar, because he couldn’t stand sweet things.

He was pretty quiet and some would say intimidating. Didn’t say a lot, didn’t do a lot.

But now, watching you, he felt something different. He felt strange. He felt soft.

Changbin looked over at you curiously from the bench press, pausing to catch his breath for a moment as you stretched your body like a cat, toes pointed, shoulders straight.

Dressed in a pale pink sports bra with a matching long-sleeved ballet wrap and black leggings, to say you looked a little out of place in a predominantly male gym was an understatement. Your hair was pulled back with a ribbon, a sticker-decorated drink bottle by the side of your mat and an iced milky-green drink beside it.

You breathed slowly, stretching your arms forward and touching your toes before sitting straight, cocking your head at your one-man audience.

“Why are you watching me?” you wrinkled your nose in disgust, self-consciously placing a hand over your chest. “I’m here for the exact same reason as you, it’s not my fault the girls’ dorms don’t have a gym.”

Changbin flushed. “I’m sorry. It probably seemed creepy, fuck, it’s not, I promise. I’m just . . . curious. What were you doing? I’ve never seen anyone exercise like that. Everyone who comes in either beats the shit out of the boxing bag or lifts.”

“Pilates,” you smiled, looking less uncomfortable. “I got my instructing licence a bit ago, but the place I teach at is only open in the mornings. So if I’ve had an early class or lecture and want to work out in the afternoon, I have to come here. Trust me, I wouldn’t be here voluntarily. You guys are gross.”

He pouted. “I’m not. I’m cute.”

“Yeah, sure you are, princess,” you chuckled, taking a sip from the green drink. You noticed him looking at it. “It’s matcha, do you want some?”

“Fuck no, my friend said that tastes like grass,” Changbin shook his head furiously.

You laughed at him, inching the cup closer to him. “C’mon, try a sip. You’ll like this one, it’s sweet. I always get vanilla in it since I can’t stand bitter drinks.”

He very cautiously leaned forward, looking at you carefully in case you recoiled when he pressed his lips on the straw. You didn’t, seeming less and less shy by the second, watching him eagerly as he swallowed.

“...and the verdict is?” you prompted.

“Where can I get my own?”

Jisung looked around Changbin’s room in shock, eyes comically wide as he took in his surroundings. Sure, it had been a week while he’d been staying with his parents, but surely Changbin’s life hadn’t changed so . . . drastically? Or had he somehow been invaded by some kind of pink fairy?

A pale pink sports bra lay strewn on Changbin’s bed, accompanied by a pair of soft grey flared leggings and a drink bottle. There was a handbag too, with ribbons and cute fluffy keychains, all belongings that most certainly were not his. But there were slightly more permanent looking changes, too. A pink MyMelody sticker on Changbin’s previously pristine laptop. A little beaded bow charm on his duffle bag. Two polaroids pinned above his bed; one of a girl making a kissy face, another of her with Changbin, pinching his cheek as he beamed at her adoringly.

Did Seo Changbin have a girlfriend?

And why wasn’t she a black-donning, gym obsessed weirdo like he was?

“Oh hi, Ji, you’re back!” Changbin smiled wide, something that Jisung swore he had never seen in all his time being his roommate. Or at least, not for a very long time. But Changbin had a whole different air about him; his body, although still buff, didn’t seem as tense as it usually was. His brow wasn’t furrowed and there was colour in his cheeks. And, for the love of God, had he blow dried his hair?

Jisung smiled back. “Hey, Bin. What are you drinking? New protein powder?”

“It’s a vanilla matcha, you should try it,” he handed it to Jisung, who took a tentative sip then stared, open-mouthed in shock.

“That’s . . . sweet.”

“No shit,” Changbin laughed at him, thumping his friend on the back. “It’s good, right? Y/N introduced me to them.”

Jisung handed it back, still suspicious that the real Seo Changbin had been abducted and that the man in front of him was a secret twin. “Oh, nice. Is that her stuff in your room?”

“Sure is,” a sweet voice chuckled from behind Changbin. A petite girl flew through the door, wrapping her arms tight around Changbin’s waist. “I’m Y/N, Jisung. It’s nice to finally meet you! Binnie’s told me so much about you two.”

Jisung raised an eyebrow. “And you’re . . . ?”

“She’s my girlfriend,” Changbin said proudly, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Yeah, but he’s the babygirl. Everyone knows that,” you rolled your eyes playfully. “He’s a pilates princess now, Jisung, I’ve converted him. Surprised he wasn’t doing it earlier; it’s very him, you know.”

Jisung blinked slowly, taking in the sight in front of him.

“Seo Changbin? A princess?” he mumbled.

“Sure I am,” Changbin shrugged, and Jisung promptly fainted in shock.

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seeingivy · 6 months ago

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3:45 am

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

an: I can't find the request, but someone asked for a sukuna version of the 3:45 am chapter of roommate eren! here it is <3

“why do you have such a shit face?”

you look up from your computer to find sukuna lingering by the door – fidgeting with the buttons of his collar and the end of his tie – as he spares you an irritated glance. it’s one that you return right back, before hunching back over the table and focusing back in on the lab report you were writing.

“i’m talking to you.”

sukuna shuffles over to your side, before crouching down till your faces are side by side, the breaths coming out of his nose tickling the bare skin on your shoulder.

“i have such a shit face because i looked at you.” you mumble.

sukuna sucks in a breath, almost like he’s trying hard to conceal his laughter, before he pulls closer, leaning his chin on your collarbone. the proximity makes it hard to ignore the sweet smell of his shampoo, which only gets worse when it’s accompanied by the sharp scent of his cologne.

“is that any way…to repay my kindness?” sukuna questions.

you roll your eyes, lightly jolting your shoulder up to get him to stop leaning on you. and he takes the hint just as much, as he draws up the chair at your side and pulls closer to see the molecules that you’re constructing on your computer.

“you know, when you said you were going to do this favor for me, i wasn’t exactly expecting that you were going to hold it over my head this way.”

ryomen sukuna was just an acquaintance – who happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time – and then he wasn’t.

it’s because he has a moral compass. or because really, he feels guilty for not telling you earlier – especially when he’s seen other friends of his in the same position as you. so when he found you down on your luck – getting cheated on by your boyfriend, who you lived with, by your best friend of all people – he offered you the extra room that he had in his apartment.

i’m lots of things, but i’m not a sadist. that’s what he said when you snuck out in the middle of the night, all of your things packed into a box that you subsequently emptied out into the free room that he offered. he had hell to pay from your ex-boyfriend the next day, the two of them jostling it out on the basketball court, before they both got reprimanded by the coach and decided to keep their distance

sukuna isn’t a bad roommate. he isn’t exactly a good roommate per say either. because the sweet kindness that he offered you wore off around the second day and you realized that really – he was one of the most irritating people that’s every walked the surface of this earth.

he brought over girls – tons of them. and when you asked him to keep it down, just so you could get some assignments done or study for an exam, he’d make it a point to bring multiple girls over – just to see the irritated expression on your face.

he’d make up for it of course. because what he lacked in face-forward politeness, he made up for with his quiet gestures. like making you breakfast the morning of said exam – set with a matcha latte that he learned how to make special for you, because you don’t like the taste of coffee. or whenever he found you crying, he’d always let you rant it out – but not without giving you a few insults about how you had no standards here and there.

“i think it’s dumb as fuck that you aren’t going tonight.” sukuna says.

you slam the enter key on your computer.

“your opinion has been noted.” you respond.

“then come.” he grates.

athletes at the university get to attend a formal at the end of each semester. it’s a nice dinner, accompanied with a horrible DJ, and a weird mix of sentimental speeches.

really, it was actually your idea of fun. only because it always felt nice to go to events like this. it was one of the few excuses you had to use the pretty dresses that you had in your closet, actually blow out your hair to make it look nice, and use the pretty glitters that your sister had given you for your birthday last year.

and even more than that, it always felt nice to be shown off. because you’d meet tons of people who had heard all about you – the coach, the athletic trainers – who’d all give you sweet comments about how you were far too good for your boyfriend, who would then make some silly comment about how he never knew how he got you to talk to him in the first place.

sukuna offered to accompany you. and also promised that he’d sneak some kind of contraband in so that the two of you could actually have fun – but it was something you denied. you denied most of the offers that he made that were similar to this, even though he was quite persistent, only because you knew that it wasn’t the right time.

for better lack of words, you felt like a kicked dog. and you needed time to recover – before you could see your old best friends, or your ex-boyfriend, or really anyone outside the three circle rotation of people that you were able to tolerate.

“i won’t have fun. and i don’t want to be a downer on the one night that’s supposed to be for you.” you respond.

“well, you’re always a downer. so it won’t exactly make a difference.” sukuna responds.

“thanks. that really makes me feel better, sukuna.”

“i live to serve.” he responds, before bracing his hands against the table and pushing off.

he spares you one last glance before stopping at the mirror near door, toussling with his hair and the piercings hanging from his ears. it’s a passing thought that you immediately banish – that panging in your chest at the thought of sukuna enjoying the night with a lanky girl on his arm.

“you know, if you stare for any longer, you’re going to fall in.” you respond.

“hilarious.” he deadpans.

“who are you going with? i’ll have to make a phone call and let her know that she’s just going to have to find her own ride.”

“no one.”

you feign shock, pressing one of your hands to your chest – and really, trying to hide the secret delight that you’re reveling in.

“wow. did hell freeze over?”

“just didn’t feel like it. this type of shit is always kind of boring.” sukuna responds.

you shrug.

“i don’t know. i always thought it was kind of fun.”

sukuna turns around, sparing you one last glance.

“you know, i do recall that you would stand in the corner and talk to the moms all night. that sounds like my personal nightmare.”

you smile.

“well, that’s just because the moms don’t really like you. i however get along with them quite well.”

sukuna rolls his eyes.

“i’m sure that’s true. i’ll see you, okay? don’t sleep too late.”

you give him a sly look.

“worried about me?”

“no, you just look ugly with eye bags.”

you do not take sukuna’s advice. instead, you finish up your lab report and open a bottle of pink wine – to accompany you in your endeavors to watch ten things i hate about you.

and it goes considerably well – until you hear a slamming pounding on your door at 3:45 am. you reach for the closest jacket, one of sukuna’s hoodies, before pulling it over your shorts and peeking out of the peephole.

you swing the door open.

“right. hi.”

you pause.

“megumi, right?”

“yeah. just bringing sukuna back. he’s plastered.”

you look down to where he’s gesturing to find sukuna slumped against the wall, offering you a half hearted smile from his bloodied nose.

“right. well, thanks for bringing him back. what happened to his face?”

“same as last time.”

you roll your eyes, as megumi drags sukuna up by the arms. he stumbles in the air, leaning his weight against you, as you shoot megumi one last smile before slamming the door shut.

the sweet smell of his shampoo and cologne is gone all together – now replaced with the mix of metallic blood, sweat, and the faintest smell of beer.

“sit down, sukuna. i’m going to clean you up.” you mumble, trying to stabilize him in the air to stand by himself.

“y/n?” he asks, before stumbling in the air.

you reach forward, trying to brace his fall as he looks down at you – suddenly somewhat awake as his face breaks out into a small smile. he reaches forward, bringing one of his bloodied knuckles to cup the side of your face.

“y/n.” he whispers.

you swallow the block in your throat in your stomach.

“don’t try to sweet talk me. i’m mad at you.” you respond, dragging him towards the center before leaning him against the kitchen counter.

you reach down to the bottom of the sink, setting a glass of water aside and pulling out the little box of first aid that you had put together once you got here and put it at his side. you open up the neatly organized compartments, pulling out the gauze and the alcohol wipes, before turning back to him.

“don’t be mad, princess.” he mumbles.

you feel your cheeks burn.

“don’t call me that.”

“isn’t that what you are? my little brat?”

you scoff.

“are you trying to insult me?” you ask, reaching for his left hand first and swiping the area clean.

“you have no…no idea what i think about you.”

you reach for the wrappings, tucking them in against the callousness of his hands, as he looks down, locking his fingers in with yours. and then he leans forward, snaking one of his hands around your neck.

you quickly shuffle yourself out of his embrace, before lightly pushing him back. he seems to take the cue, before you lean forward again, slightly hesitant this time, as you wipe the area around his nose.

“why’d you fight with him this time?”

sukuna scrunches his face up – irritated at the mention of the past few hours.

“nothing he didn’t fucking deserve.”

“right. last time, he missed a three pointer and you socked him in the face. so let me guess, he was two hours late today and you just got carried away?”

sukuna scoffs.

“he was running his mouth.”

your curiosity has piqued.

“about?”

“you.” sukuna slurs.

you smile.

“so glad to see you had sound judgment tonight, sukuna.” you respond, voice dripping with sarcasm.

sukuna leans forward, his lips a little too dangerously close as he rests his hands at the sides of your waist.

“he brought that stupid bitch with him.”

“sukuna.” you warn.

“he brought. that stupid bitch with him. and he had the nerve to stand there and talk shit about you.” sukuna responds.

you reach for the glass and place it in his hands, offering him a smile.

“just drink the water to sober up a little bit. it’s late.”

sukuna gives you a glare, as you let go of the glass, only for him to spill the entirety of it on you with his shaky hands. he barely registers that he did it – and you suppose that it’s really your fault for trusting him to hold the glass on his own – as you swing your arm around his torso and lead him towards his room.

he flops onto the bed as you rummage through his drawers, pulling out a pair of pants and shirt for him as you turn back around.

“sukuna. get up and change and you can sleep all you want.” you coax.

he responds with an unintelligible noise – further muffled by the fact that he’s face down on the bed – as you reach for one of his arms and pull. he somewhat works with you, sitting up as he wobbles, and reaches for the tie around his neck and tosses it aside.

his first struggle comes with the buttons. because he can’t seem to coordinate his fingers well enough to push the buttons through the holes – and obviously, with the short temper he has, gives up in all but three seconds.

“help.”

you roll your eyes as he stands up, leaning against you as you reach forward, and slowly unbutton down the length of the shirt.

“you drive me crazy, you know that?” sukuna whispers.

you ignore the comment as you pull the shirt down the length of his arms – exposing the tattoos that you’ve always wondered about, that peek out of the sleeves of his shirt or neck. you hand him the shirt, which he tosses aside.

“too hot.”

“okay, well. just put the pants on and then i’ll leave. i’ll turn around.” you respond.

you turn around, twisting the rings on your fingers as you wait for him to finish, only to me met what could possibly be your worst nightmare.

“y/n. wait, fuck. you have to help.” he whines.

you turn around to look at him, only to find that he’s still wearing his pants.

“what?”

“the button. i can’t…”

you feel your throat dry.

“sukuna. i can’t…take your pants off for you. just try harder.”

“just fucking help me.”

you shake off the nervousness, as you bend down on your knees, trying to squint through the dark light to find the button. except before you can fully do it, sukuna reaches for your biceps and somewhat harshly pulls you up.

“wh-”

you look up to find him swallowing hard, before he talks.

“it’s like you’re trying to make this difficult for me. don’t get on your fucking knees to do it.” sukuna responds.

“how else am i supposed to see it?”

sukuna doesn’t respond, as you shake your head and feel down the length of his pants, before you find the button. and surely enough, it’s hard to push but you get it after a second try, and turn around as sukuna switches the pants he’s wearing.

and you almost make your sweet escape before he tangles his fingers around your wrist and pulls back. his fingers are fast on your waist as he turns you around, somewhat toppling your balance so you’re leaning against his chest – and stuck in his embrace.

“stay.” he whispers.

“you are so fucking drunk, sukuna.”

“stay, please. i don’t want to sleep without you.”

you shake your head.

“my hoodie is wet. i have to change.”

sukuna shakes his head.

“are you wearing anything underneath? you know i wouldn’t mind either way.” sukuna whispers.

“a tank top, but really. i have to go back to –”

sukuna’s fingers are fast – since he apparently has enough coordination to help you with this – as he pulls it over your head, before setting his hands back around your waist. the way he’s looking down at you, eyes wide, makes you shiver as he leans forward, and presses his fingers against your collarbone.

“you have a tattoo.” sukuna whispers.

you laugh.

“so do you.”

and it makes your skin shiver, when sukuna snakes his hands underneath your shirt, leaning forward to press his lips against the inked skin on your shoulder, unable to contain your surprise. the tufts of his hair tickle your neck as you lean back, placing your hands on the sides of his face.

“you’re drunk.”

sukuna pauses.

“is that the only reason you’re saying no?”

you shake your head.

“go to bed. you don’t even know what you’re fuckking saying right now.”

“just stay with me.”

sukuna releases his grasp, instead reaching for both of your hands and squeezing at your fingers.

“please. don’t leave me alone.”

“okay, okay. let’s just go sleep. we’ll talk in the morning.”

you wake up to the most haunting sight known to man – sukuna hovering over you.

“jesus fuck.”

sukuna laughs as you press your palms into the sockets of your eyes, pushing as hard as can as you very quickly remember the events of last night – of the shivering feeling of sukuna’s lips on your neck and the horribly embarrassing moan you let out when he did.

“oh god.”

you open your eyes to find sukuna still hovering – an almost too excited grin painted on his face – his silver necklace hanging in the air.

“give me permission this time.” sukuna states.

you widen your eyes.

“i beg your pardon?”

sukuna snakes one of his fingers under your waist, using the other to trace the outline of your tattoo again, as he leans closer to you, the distance dangerously close considering the events of last night.

“give me permission.” sukuna asks.

“you…”

sukuna rolls his eyes, before leaning forward and pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“if it wasn’t clear, i think about you very often. irritatingly enough, i’m actually very fond of you. so much so, that i turned down that fucking barista from the coffee shop last night and went to that fucking party by myself..”

“marie?”

“is that her name?” sukuna asks.

you bite down on your cheek.

“i also gave someone a beating for you and got suspended from playing for two weeks, so just give me fucking permission now.”

“you got what?”

sukuna leans down, resting his chin against your bicep, as he eyes you again, before pressing a kiss to the skin.

“give me permission.”

“you’ve already kissed me twice.”

sukuna shakes his head.

“cmon. i need to hear it.”

you shake your head, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that your heart is pounding in your chest as you look down at him, brown eyes peering into yours

“um. okay? ….yes. or yeah, whatever, i –”

all you hear is an excited chuckle before his lips are against yours, hands almost rough around your neck as he pulls you up, till your straddling him in his lap, hands secured around his neck. and you can tell that he’s enjoying himself far too much – from the way he smiles into the kiss, before pressing three, four, and five kisses to your cheek.

you fight the urge to smile at him fully as you lean forward, cupping his face in your hands and eyeing the cut across the bridge of his nose.

“have i repaid your kindness yet?” you murmur.

sukuna pauses, before leaning in.

“no, i think i need a little bit more.”

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musingsofahufflepuff · 8 months ago

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coffee shop headcanons

mattheo, enzo, theo, blaise, & draco; fluff

a/n: to all my draco people, sorry for the draco slander. also, first time writing about blaise and draco, so they might be ooc, don’t yell at me. this is shamelessly more starbucks focused bc i work there. another lil guy to make up for how long the theo soulmate au is taking ♡

Mattheo

♡ this man is a cold brew guy, whatever delivers the most caffeine the fastest. inject it into his veins if you must.

♡ definitely adds espresso shots to all his drinks, even the cold brew.

♡ energy drink in one hand, coffee in the other.

♡ i’m biased, but i think he’d vibe with a lavender chai when he’s not getting his fix. (if you catch him ordering a dirty chai, mind your business)

Enzo

♡ he’s a “barista’s choice” kinda guy.

♡ he’ll walk up to the cashier and with that charming little smile of his go, “i’ll have whatever your favorite is.”

♡ he frequently gets little heart doodles and stickers added to his cups bc the employees love him.

♡ this boy also loves a seasonal drink and will get his friends to get one with him.

Theo

♡ espresso lover, 100%

♡ however, if the beans are shit, don’t bother.

♡ latte art lover, you can make a little cat drawing on his coffee?? do it, do it rn.

♡ secretly loves a pumpkin spice latte with enzo.

Blaise

♡ iced coffee all the way, no sweeteners bc he likes the taste.

♡ will also drink black brewed coffee, dark roast.

♡ can and has been suckered into getting a seasonal drink with enzo

♡ ofc he doesn’t actually like them, why would you ask him that???

Draco

♡ fucking iced matcha lattes because they’re a bitch to make.

♡ or he’s getting the equivalent of a frappuccino/frozen coffee. (the guys tease him relentlessly for this)

♡ does not like the taste of coffee, so he has to add a ton of milk and sugar to it.

♡ he just prefers tea.

#slytherin boys #mattheo riddle #enzo berkshire #theodore nott #blaise zabini #draco malfoy #slytherin boys headcanons #mattheo riddle headcanon #theo nott headcanons #enzo berkshire headcanons #blaise zabini headcanons #draco malfoy headcanon #draco malfoy slander #headcanons #mykie fics

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goodeapple · 3 months ago

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dry clean only (modern hotd pwp, jace x sister!reader x luke)

pairing : Jacaerys x Ysilla (sister!OC) x Lucerys

warnings : MDNI. jesus where do i start... this is filthyyyyy. PWP, threesome, sibling incest, rimming, anal, DP, slight coercion, sibling incest, accidental voyeurism, unprotected intercourse, breeding kink (ofc), & did i mention sibling incest?

word count : 4,000+

note : i kind of lost my marbles with this one... brain drove straight to Hornyville and set up camp. in the nicest way, if u don't like, don't read <3

Laundry day. Fucking laundry day.

“Laundry day.” Ysilla had said when Jace stopped her in the hallway, and she shrugged before heading towards her room. So simple, so nonchalant, as if it were normal for her to parade around in nothing but one of his t-shirts. He lasts a solid forty minutes- a new record- before he pauses his game, and yells into the nearly empty house.

“Sil! Get in here!”

She takes her sweet time, minutes passing until she appears in his open doorway, propping her hip up on the jam. “You rang?”

Jace bristles at her nonchalance-ness, bouncing his knee anxiously, still sitting in his gaming chair.

“You doin’ that on purpose, Silli?” He waves a hand in her direction, a sweep from the tips of her white pedicured toes to the spirals of her midnight curls.

His sister finishes texting, before at last giving over her attention.

Ysilla bats her feather duster lashes at him, all doe eyes and a pouty pink mouth. “Course not, I told you. Got nothing else that’s clean.”

“I find that hard to believe…” Jace grumbles. She swipes their mum’s Amex like it’s going out of style. Her wardrobe looks like a Christmastime department store.

“You don’t like that I’m wearing your clothes?” She asks, plucking at the hem of his shirt, pulling the thin material tight over her tits. The shadows of her areolas become prominent and Jace feels his balls draw up tight. Even so, familial annoyance is stronger than that of a hundred men and he rolls his eyes.

“It’s mine. Don’t take my shit without asking, brat.”

It’s a tepid delivery at best, but it has a fire lighting in her that makes her amethyst orbs glow.

“Fine.” Without any preamble, Ysilla strolls into his room until she arrives in front of him and pulls his shirt off and over her head. Tossing it in his face, she crosses her arms under her breasts, her rosy mocha nipples pebbling in the artificially cool air. “Happy?” He misses her smirk but he can hear it in her voice.

“Not on purpose my ass.” Jace growls, ripping the shirt off of him. Springing to his feet, his fist finds its way into her hair and he yanks her to his mouth. She tastes like matcha and spearmint, and the strawberry gloss tacky on her lips.

She melts into his chest, putty in his devout hands. Her own hands rise to cradle his face, still lost in their kiss as she strokes her thumb over the defined edge of his jaw. Jace unwinds his fist, unclenching it to lay his palm flat at the nape of her neck. Too soon, she pulls away, smiling triumphantly as he tries to chase her lips.

“You’re so easy to tease, little brother.”

“Nothing little about what I’m about to give you.” Jace goads, running his hands down her bare back, tracing the twin dimples dotting the bloom of her backside. He pulls her forward until there’s not even a whisper left between them. The new stance does wonders for them both, as Jace slides his thigh between Ysilla’s. She’s not wearing any panties. And she’s already wet. He rocks his knee along her clit, the pearl perked and pronounced, and Jace knows if he keeps it up she’ll cream all over his leg.

“Bed. M’not bouncing on your lap in your game chair.” She whines, tugging off his hoodie and shimmying down his basketball shorts, a woman on a mission.

“Not like you haven’t done it before.” He bites but concedes, ushering her backwards into his bed. He gets her underneath him for a brief, blissful moment before he’s maneuvered onto his back. She likes to be on top- a throne fit for a princess, as she said once before. Plus, I like to see the face you make when you cum.

He spits into his palm, stroking himself quickly. A little extra slide is never a bad thing. “Sissy, spread your legs.”

Ysilla does what she’s told (for once) and goes gooey as Jace slips the head of himself into her opening. He gets a handful of her hips, thumbing at her hip bones as he eases her down, letting her slide onto every rigid inch. She whimpers, wiggling on his lap as she bottoms out on his dick. Gods above. Targaryen men and their horse cocks will be the absolute death of her.

“Jaceyyyyyy,” she whines, the pressure in her lower belly a heaviness she can’t shake.

“If you wanted dick, all you had to do was say so.” Jace chuckles but it’s labored. She’s so fucking tight- he doesn’t know if it’s the pilates she does or good genetics, but it’s like being in a turtleneck in July.

Within a second, his door squeaks open and the two tangled Targaryens would jump apart if they didn’t know exactly who would be getting home at 4PM on a Wednesday.

“Ooohhhh, what are you two gettin’ up to, eh?” Luke’s hand smacks down a greeting on Ysilla’s backside, and she jumps from the sting. He sprawls out in the previously occupied chair, giving himself a front row seat to his brother and sister’s debauchery.

Luke is sprouting, taller than even their dad. He tugs down his trackies, of course a stereotypical grey that hugs him just right, and his cock springs up, bobbing back and forth like a metronome. He’s not super thick around his shaft, but the kids got length that you feel knocking in your stomach.

Ysilla stares, shamelessly, her throat awfully lonely. He notices and lets her attention go straight to his head (both of them).

“See something you like, babe?” Luke winks at her, a cheeky grin plucking up his lips. He pumps himself once, a bead of precum crowning his pretty cock.

“Lukeyyy,” he whines at Ysilla’s croon. His sister is so fucking stunning- gorgeous, breathtaking. He’d do anything for her. She’s the voice in his head, the drive in his passion, the star in his fantasies. She’s been there for everything- it’s hard for him not to be a little bit sprung.

“You forget about me, love?” Jace places a wet kiss at the cradle of her jaw. Ysilla smiles, tangling her fingers in his tight curls.

They have curly hair, all three of them. Ysilla knows Harwin isn’t her dad- her sperm donor, she means. Harwin has been there for all the things that mattered and those that didn’t, he’s her fucking dad. Blood doesn’t get to take that away from her. And in pictures, it’s easy to believe they’re all from the same vine. Until you account for Viz and Aeg and their momma, and then every family photo is a whole motley crew snapshot.

“Don’t be jealous, Jace.” She coos, in a mellow mocking voice.

He rolls his eyes, a pink blush prickling at his freckled cheeks. He steals a proper kiss this time, a wet peck that has Ysilla coming back for more, opening her mouth in a slow, sensual lick. Jace grinds into her, basking in her gasps that he drinks down drunkenly.

A particularly pitiful moan from the foot of the bed reminds her to be generous with her attention. Jace lets go of her mouth, head dipping down just so that he catches her swinging breast in his mouth. He widens his jaw, tongue lapping lewdley at her flesh, looking as if he’s trying to swallow it whole. Ysilla strokes his cheek fondly. He gets so needy like this- needs his big sister to keep him grounded. She lets her head loll back, pinning Luke with a simmering stare that is reminiscent of predator and prey. It shouldn’t twist up his belly like it does but he’s long passed caring about what gets him off. As long as she’ll let him taste her.

“Wanna join us, bud?”

Luke nods, all boyish enthusiasm, eager to please. “Wherever you want me, sis.”

Ooooh, that’s a fun thought. Her mouth floods with saliva, her taste buds perking up at the thought of Luke’s salty spunk. She gives a good handy, she could jerk him off until he busts. Or, she could flip onto her back, ride Jace in reverse and let Luke straddle her chest and maul her tits until he’d gift her a pearl necklace. Decisions, decisions. Ysilla rocks faster on Jace’s cock, dragging him in and out of her in a way that has her clit fluttering like butterfly wings.

Absently, she rubs down her left cheek, still stinging from Luke’s slap, and lets her fingertips dip into her cleft. She’s wet there too- fuck, more like soaked. She was riding her vibrator until Jace had finally called her to him. She’d been dripping since she stole his shirt from his dresser, going absolutely mental at the soft cotton caressing her nipples, his cologne soaked into the fabric. She huffed it like an addict, brought it up to her nose while she rode the vibe until her hand cramped.

Luke’s eyes follow her wandering hand, and his brows scrunch in agonized pleasure as she slips a finger over her tight, clenched hole. Decision made.

“Want you right here, Lucerys.” Ysilla murmurs, knocking her knees further apart, bringing her stomach to stomach with Jace as a result. “Want you both, at the same time.”

Luke’s eyes go gumball wide. “You forreal?”

She bites at her lip, moaning as Jace thrusts hard. He’s as excited by the idea as she is. She nods fervently, arching her back more invitingly and Luke fucking moans, tightening his grip on the base of his cock.

“Fuck, you two are so hot.” He grinds into his fist, his other hand drifting beneath him and rolling his balls between strong fingers. He kicks his sweats the rest of the way off, unable to stop himself as he jerks off faster, his sack tightening in a tantalizing threat.

Jace notices, releasing Ysilla’s breast from his famished mouth. “Don’t blow yet, bro. Wait ‘til you’re inside her.”

Ysilla smirks, turning her sights back to the man buried in her cunt.

“Yeah? Wanna wait until he’s inside me? Want you both to fill me up with your cum ‘till it leaks out of my holes?” She whispers at Jace’s throat, dropping an open mouthed kiss over his Adam’s apple.

Jace can give as good as he gets. “What if I do? What if I want to see my cum drip out of your tight cunny, and plug you up with something so it sticks? Could get you barefoot and pregnant, could get you bouncing on my cock all day long while your belly grows with my babe.” He rubs at her tits, pinching and plucking at her spit slick nipple with a tenderness he means wholeheartedly as he whispers his depraved fancy into her ear.

Ysilla clenches around him, tight enough that his vision whites out for a moment. She can’t help it, bouncing up and down on his fat cock, his words liquid lust in her tummy.

“Oh, Jace. Jacey Jacey, fuck, little brother.” She pants, taking every inch of his shaft over and over again, hissing at the stretch of it burning up her insides. Gods, she never tires of it- his cock is such a treat, one she only indulges in when she has the time to truly savor it.

“You got one more little brother right behind ya, pretty girl.” Luke whispers at her ear, kissing her pulse point with delicate lips.

Jace reaches into his bedside drawer, pulling out a bottle and tossing it on the duvet. “Lube, man.”

The eldest brother busies his hands, grabbing ahold of his sister’s plush backside, a cheek in each palm, and pulls her apart to expose her to their little brother’s lecherous gaze. Dropping to his knees, Luke spits a glob of saliva into her puckered hole, enjoying how her sensitive skin quivers under his attention. He coats his fingers generously with the thick gel, and he’s gentle as he presses one past the thick muscle of her entrance. She squeals sharply before Jace occupies her mouth, shoving in two fingers for her to suck on. Ysilla has an oral fixation- a dick, chewing gum, popsicles, all her go-to’s when she’s stressed.

Luke takes advantage of Jace’s help, gliding in another finger that makes her cry out even louder. Shit, she’s got to gut up if she wants to take his dick. He scissors them back and forth, methodical in working her open. He’s only ever done this to himself, but he’s got the basics down: preparation, lube, going slow, more lube, etcetera. He keeps it up until her whimpers have died down, and when he starts to feel her rock back against him.

Satisfied, he pulls out his fingers and coats his shaft with the lube, hissing at the cool sting on his sensitive skin. He spreads it over his head with a loose grip. He’s already worked up enough, the last thing he wants to do is let his big sister down by cumming on her ass instead of inside of it.

He edges up onto his hands, ready to push upwards onto the bed so that he can take his place behind Ysilla but he’s stopped by something straight out of a wet dream. Luke whistles low. That’s a million dollar shot right there: Jace’s thick veiny cock pulling out before pumping back into Ysilla’s hot pink center, the shine coating their thighs glistening in the late afternoon sun. He wonders if he could convince either of his siblings to let him film them. He knows the answer is most likely a hard no, but a boy can dream.

The carpet beneath his knees is starting to give him rug burn but he's so transfixed, it's like he's been hypnotized. A simple, sinful thought comes unbidden into his mind and he grins. While he's down here, he might as well sightsee. Luke ducks down, and sucks one of Jace’s balls into his mouth, just to hear his brother curse him in Valyrian. He rolls it around his tongue, before releasing it with a satisfied pop! and takes a lick of the cream seeping from Silli’s hole.

Ysilla flinches away, kicking out her foot to shove at his shoulder. He chuckles and relents, adrenaline tight in his muscles as he wraps his hold around her dainty waist and lines up behind her.

"Here goes nothin', gang." Luke shudders out a breath as he maneuvers into position, and edges forward painfully slow as Ysilla's pretty arse swallows his dick. It takes forever and a day, but finally, thankfully, he's all the way in, flush with the back of her thighs and mind melting out of his ears.

“Good Gods above, Lukey.” Ysilla has to remind herself to breathe.

“You okay sissy?” Luke pecks her temple, tucking her bangs back behind her ear. She blushes, cheeks burning hot- he’s such a good boy.

“I’m fine, dude. It’s just… neither of you are small. I can feel you tickling my tonsils.”

“Fucking hell. I can feel him, mercy, I can feel him through you, Silli.” Jace sobs wetly, hands shaking where he has a hold of her hips. Mother, Father and fucking Crone, this is infuckingsane. He can’t last like this, he isn’t superhuman for Gods’ sake.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Jacaerys. If I’m taking both of your cocks, I’ll get time to enjoy it. You’ll cum when I tell you to.” She commands, all eldest child superiority, even with a strained voice.

“Yes, sissy.” He croaks out, his irises misty like a spring rain. She hums approvingly, withholding her praise until he can deliver on his promise.

“Same goes for you, kiddo.” She aims over her shoulder.

“Anything you say, Silli.” Luke draws out, letting her agonize over every long inch before fucking himself back into her arse.

The brothers start to build a gentle push-pull rhythm, one in one out, trying to get her adjusted to having two dicks inside of her- as if that’s something that someone can get used to after five fucking minutes. But as the pain and discomfort fade into a fullness that she feels up to her throat, little jabs of pleasure have Ysilla pushing herself back and forth against her boys.

“This is crazy, holy shit this is crazy.” She gasps, hands wildly clutching at anything she can.

“Never felt something this tight. Squeezing the fuckin’ life out of me, bloody hell.” Luke gasps into her shoulder, eyes screwed shut in concentration, dragging his hips back and forth.

Jace can't talk- all of his focus on not blowing his top and facing his sister's wrath. Sparing a glance at her, he can't help but sigh.

“You're so fucking pretty, Sil.”

The look of love that accompanies Jace’s hushed praise has the tightening snapping loose in Ysilla's belly, vainly getting off from his attention. Well that, and the fact that she's double stuffed like an Oreo.

Her orgasm slices through her, a hot knife through butter, and a violent shiver racks up her spine. She bows upward in some type of silly attempt to get away from Jace’s plundering cock, but all she succeeds in doing is arching into Luke’s greedy hands and greenlighting him into slamming into her hole even harder.

“Oh, oh! I can’t take it. It’s too much, stop!” Ysilla pleads, pushing and pulling at all of the naked skin surrounding her, overwhelmed and overfucked.

“Do you think she really means that, Lukey?” Jace asks, and it’s too sugar sweet to be anything but condescending.

“No fuckin’ way, mate. This ass wouldn’t let me go for anything.” Luke slurs, half fucking stupid, his smarts being squeezed out by way of his prick.

“I’m not a unnhhhh. Not just a hole for you two to fuck.” Her words would land a better mark if there wasn’t a thin line of drool dripping off of her bottom lip, her eyes gone glossy. Her pussy throbs, her heartbeat pulsing there as well as violently in her ears.

Luke fish hooks her, pulling her into his lips by the meat of her cheek. “Shut the fuck up, Ysi.” He says it so adoringly before releasing her, only to keep her quiet as he slides his tongue into her mouth. It does the job, Ysilla suckling at it like it’s a lolli.

Jace lets his hands wander, worshiping the beautiful bodies laid out for his ravenous gaze. His fingers tickle over the dip of Luke’s slight waist, his thumb strokes the flare of Ysilla’s ribcage- his hands discovering and mapping a route of impassioned fealty that he will never forget. They're both his. It's an absolutely mental thought, one he should have no business entertaining but here, in his bed, none of them are to think of anything else but each other.

Jace grabs Ysilla tight by her jaw, ripping her away from Luke’s tongue. He brings her in close, forcing her to stare into his sweet chocolate eyes. “I’m gonna nut in your pussy, sissy, and Luke’s gonna fill that arse up. And you’re gonna take it, like the good girl you are, or I’ll put you on your knees and have you suck my cock until dinnertime.”

Ysilla giggles, delighting in the way Jace’s smirk turns down into a sneer. Humbling her brothers is an A1 skill, one she’s perfected over the years with a constant dedication to her craft.

“Promise?”

Jace chuckles, because he’s sick like she is. Still holding her close, his grip slips down to wrap around her throat. He pushes up, palm tight to her windpipe and forces her flush to Luke’s sweaty chest. He presses his feet into his mattress, praying for leverage, and plows every inch of his thick dick into her cunt.

Luke’s lungs shrivel up, the friction of his brother’s thrusting cock through the thin skin separating Ysilla’s holes too much for him to take. He hunches over her, slinging his arm around her hips. He yanks her into an arch, his forearm digging tightly into where her lower belly meets her mound, and humps desperately at the curve of her backside.

Jace chases them, fucking his hips up into his siblings wildly, the wet smack of his thighs against Ysilla’s fucking nasty. He wraps his legs around all of them, crossing his ankles above Luke’s tight, thrusting arse, keeping them all nice and close.

“Fuckkkk yeah, take that dick. Both of you.”

God bless football, the muscles threaded through his chicken legs all due to his practicing and playing. Fuck, he should make Sil wear his jersey after his next game. Maybe even convince Luke to give him a mouthful of his junk, make him stretch out his throat while Silli rides his lap. Do it in the car park after the match. His tint is dark enough- he could have them together, anyway he wants while the rest of his team would pile into their own cars, none the wiser to sinful shit their star striker gets up to with his own flesh and blood.

Jace knows he doesn’t have much left in his tank; he was ready to bust as soon as Luke slid home alongside him. He doesn’t want to finish yet- somewhat pridefully, not before his little brother. One thing is on his side though: he has a big fucking mouth.

“So pretty, both of my fucking sluts. Gonna knock you two up, breed you until you’re fucking sick of it.”

Ysilla and Luke’s eyes roll back, mirror images of lust, and Jace doesn’t know if he imagines it but he swears he can feel it as Luke breaks, his cum molten hot through the partition of Silli’s walls as he spills deep into her guts.

“Fuckkk yes, cum inside of her Luke. Make it messy, shit, I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” Jace spits through clenched teeth, digging his heels cruelly into Luke’s soft thighs. As if on cue, both brothers’ trembling fingers dive between Ysilla’s legs, and rub furiously at her clit. She chokes, her nails rooting into each one of them, keeping them close as she breaks the fuck apart. One of them shouts as she clamps down in a vice grip, but it's all static in her ears, her orgasm washing anything away that's not white hot heat. It lasts so long her toes go numb and her knees shake tremors throughout her thighs.

Luke and Ysilla topple like a house of cards, landing in a jumbled pile of limbs and other sweat soaked appendages. Jace’s bed is a King but even so, the trio chooses to remain wrapped up in each other, gasping for breath and stretching out sore legs.

The peek of sky through the blinds gets dimmer the longer they all lie there, the glow from the TV glaring brighter and brighter as the room dips into darkness. Jace searches for his remote, doing his best not to jostle his bedmates, until he finds it under his pillow. Going for the red power button, his thumb hovers over it until a flashing icon in the corner of the screen pitches his stomach like he’s on a rollercoaster.

“Oh, fuck me.”

“I don’t think I have the energy to do that.” Luke groans, face buried in his sister’s back.

“Me either.” Ysilla chuckles wearily, already well on her way to unconsciousness, snuggled between her favorite boys. Jace winces, letting them enjoy the last few seconds of afterglow before he ruins the rest of their lives.

“Okay… neither of you can hit me for what I’m about to tell you.”

Ysilla blinks at him, suddenly wide awake at the tense tone he’s taken on.

“Jace… what is it?”

He stares at the F1 pause screen, Aegon T. connected via headset still lit up in green in the top right corner. His own headset rests innocently atop his desk, the mic almost pointing accusingly towards the bed. And there’s no way in any of the Seven Hells that their uncle didn’t just get an earful of his niece and nephews railing each other into oblivion.

“I think we may have a huge fucking problem.”

#hotd #house of the dragon #modern hotd #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys x you #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys x oc #jacaerys velaryon smut #lucerys velaryon #lucerys targaryen #lucerys x you #lucerys x reader #lucerys x oc #lucerys velaryon smut #hotd smut #hotd kink #hotd pwp

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago

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Paradigm Shift 3

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you get transferred to a new position but it’s hardly a breath of fresh air. (plus!reader)

Characters: Loki, Bucky Barnes, this reader is known as Billie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

Dark roast, black. You're tempted to order one for yourself but the extra dose of caffeine might unhinge you after the morning you've had. Transfer, no desk, a firing, a stolen desk, and two painfully aloof bosses.

You go back up to the office, the short reprieve offering some clarity but not solutions. There has to be some way to get more than a grunt and a closed door from these men. Geez, if you wanted to work with children you would've done so.

You knock on Mr. Barnes' door. The one next to it opens first. Laufeyson considers you from head to toe and Barnes appears not a second after. He takes his cup without a thanks.

"Mm, and where is mine then?" Laufeyson challenges.

You blink, long and hard. Of course. Of course! You let out a slow breath, "what would you like, Mr. Laufeyson?"

You don't miss the quiet snort from the other door and it closes before you can glance Barnes' expression. You have a suspicion he expected this. It's like your first job when you worked with a bunch of men in stocks. Their numbers were as bloated as their egos.

“Matcha.”

The door shuts in your face. Again. You bite down and stretch your fingers wide. It’s fine. It’s fine. Growing pains.

Matcha... what? Iced? Latte? Hot tea? Smoothie? Wonderful, a guessing game.

You will be getting yourself another coffee for the trouble. Another trip to Roasters and you settle on the simplest option; just tea. You’re certain if you’re wrong, he’ll let you know.

You stand at the two office doors and contemplate your life decisions. Is this worth it? Can you beg Odinson to take you back? To send down another poor soul? You almost feel bad doing that to someone else. You’re about to give when that innate stubborn ticks in your jaw. It’s only been a few hours. You don’t just give up that easy.

Knock, knock. There’s a delay before Laufeyson answers. You’re not put off by it. You know the tactic. It won’t work on you. If his tea is cold, it won’t be your fault.

“Matcha, sir,” you hold out the cup.

He accepts it and reads the sticker on the side. He narrows his green eyes and looks at you, “note for next time, I prefer Garcon’s to Roasters.”

Click. Another shut door. You’re really starting to get angry. You laugh out the flurry of agitation and turn away. What else can you do but think of it as a joke? It has to be. It’s just that absurd.

You sit at the desk and open your laptop. You get it hooked up to the monitor and refinagle the cords. That’s an accomplishment at least. A tiny morsel of victory. You glance around and frown. It’s like the waiting room in Beetlejuice; everyone looks miserable. Well, can you blame them?

Your phone buzzes and you check the messages. Girl nights hangs like bait at the end of your day, keeping you swimming through dark waters. It’s a bit ridiculous. Your friends are all like you in one way but all vastly different in many other ways. You all spend your days taking care of men who couldn’t give a shit about any of you.

You can already taste the Paloma; bitter grapefruit with the burn of tequila. You are dying to drink away this day. You look at the clock and nearly whimper. It’s not even one o’clock. Ugh.

You plug away at your desk. You get the daily agendas templated then spend time scouring the web. You have something in mind. You’re pretty sure you can make it work. As long as those grumps can do the simplest of tasks.

You customize the survey and send the link. You doubt you’ll get a response today or even at all. It’s a hail mary, really. Barnes’ door opens, then Laufeysons. Your chest fills with dread. Great.

“Hello, sir and... sir,” you sit up as they approach.

“What is the meaning of that quiz?” Laufeyson demands.

“It’s not--

“Asking a lot, aren’t you?” Barnes crosses his arms.

“No, I just--”

“What business do you have about my dry cleaning?” Laufeyson hisses.

“I have lunch when I have lunch. I'm not a child at grade school,” Barnes sneers.

“Okay, woah,” you put your palms out, “first, there’s an n/a column, you can choose not to disclose the information. Two, I need to know what to do. What do you want from me?”

Both men frown and look at each other, then back to you.

“I can think of one,” Laufeyson raises a finger, “don’t treat us as children who need you to put our socks on.”

“Good one,” Barnes scoffs, “also, you could stop with calendar reminders.”

“Those are automatic,” you mutter.

“And the arguing,” Laufeyson points at you.

You sputter, dizzy at their onslaught of criticism. They can tell you exactly what they don’t want but they can’t give you a clear answer as to why you are there. You calm yourself with a breath and sip of coffee.

“Mr. Laufeyson, Mr. Barnes--”

“Why him first? My name’s first alphabetically,” Barnes says.

“I--” you stop yourself and take another taste of your coffee, “if my presence is getting in the way of your work, I will go back upstairs and talk to Mr. Odinson--”

“Mr. Odinson? Thor?” Laufeyson says, “no, you won’t do that. In fact, that is another item for your list, no talking to my brother. Especially of me.”

You could tear your hair out. You could hit your head on the wall. You could gauge your eyes out and drown yourself in your coffee. Instead, you smile.

“Got it,” you say, “well, sirs, good luck with your meeting this afternoon.”

“Yes, thank you,” Laufeyson intones.

“Mm, sure,” Barnes says and they both turn on their heels then stop at once. They face you in sync with each other.

“Meeting?” They ask.

“Mmhm,” you nod, “it’s in your calendars.”

They stare at you.

“If that’s something you’d like me to brief you on,” you say tritely, “you can submit that in the survey.”

Laufeyson hums dryly and Barnes growls. Neither says anything further as they retreat. You keep your eyes on the screen as your heartbeat races. You can’t believe you said that.

#bucky barnes #loki #dark loki #dark bucky barnes #dark!loki #dark!bucky barnes #loki x reader #bucky barnes x reader #series #drabble #paradigm shift #bad bosses #au #marvel #mcu #avengers #winter soldier #captain america #thor

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osamucide · 2 months ago

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BSD COFFEE ORDERS! ⊹

inspired by this post by @alyszuha! I thought it was so silly and as a former barista it sparked my imagination lol. very little context for these

DAZAI is a sweet coffee drinker. I think he secretly wishes he could be a black coffee fan but he can hardly get it down without four plus pumps of butter pecan syrup and an absurd amount of sugar. probably an iced latte regular. oat milk.

ATSUSHI doesn’t mind black coffee but everything tastes good when you grew up in poverty. he prefers it iced with yummy sweet cream cold foam on top, though.

KUNIKIDA is a plain black light roast truther. doesn’t care if it tastes like shit. he’d spike it with coke and gasoline if it meant it’d help him get through dealing with Dazai everyday.

RANPO would do ungodly things for a caramel frappe. extra whipped cream and caramel drizzle, please.

YOSANO is another black coffee drinker, but I think she’s a little picky about it. loves a good medium roast.

KYOUKA, I think, has residual paranoia from Kouyou telling her coffee would stunt her growth like Chuuya so she’s a tea drinker. sweet green tea, hot or iced, is her go to.

KENJI loves matcha! it’s so earthy and reminds him of home. hot or iced, maybe with some strawberry flavoring.

FUKUZAWA is the reason Ranpo fiends for caramel fraps. he probably gets it with an absurd amount of caffeine, though. I’m talking like, six shots of espresso.

TANIZAKI regularly rotates between vanilla lattes, chai teas, and green teas.

NAOMI gets whatever Tanizaki’s getting.

CHUUYA drinks hot salted caramel lattes pretty much exclusively.

AKUTAGAWA drinks a plain, scalding hot Americano because he thinks it makes him look hard. in reality, he thinks they’re kinda gross so he dumps assloads of sugar in them.

TACHIHARA loves a good chai latte, especially if it’s extra spicy, ya know? something about spicy chai. prefers it hot.

GIN strawberry Italian soda drinker is real to me.

HIGUCHI got put onto to strawberry Italian sodas by Gin. I think, after a while though, she starts to try out different flavors and comes to prefer peach.

MORI doesn’t go to cafes. he has a Keurig in his office and has Hirotsu buy him those huge boxes of donut shoppe/breakfast roast by the tens. stacks them up stupidly. straight black. no less than five cups a day.

ODA seems like he’d be a redeye drinker. silky espresso + a nice medium roast? he loves it.

ANGO drinks a cappuccino, probably with only the finest espresso, too.

POE is a cold brew drinker. I think he probably plays around with flavors and splashes of different types of cream; he really likes a vanilla and caramel cold brew with a splash of whole milk.

FYODOR drinks Raf coffee! it’s a Russian classic from the 90s (the origins are neat and I actually think they’re pretty yummy)

NIKOLAI absolutely drinks tuxedo mochas. wants them disgustingly sweet. all that sugar and caffeine is probably why he’s bouncing off the damn walls all the time.

SIGMA probably drank Raf coffee and mochas for a while because of his colleagues. when he starts branching out on his own, though, he discovers he really likes fruity lattes. blueberry, strawberry, or blackberry flavoring is at the top of his list.

TETCHOU would drink what I would call a mocha for lack of a better term, I guess? but he more or less just gets chocolate syrup dumped directly into black coffee.

JOUNO pumpkin spice latte enjoyer is canon Asagiri told me so. I don’t think he’s too picky about coffee, though (unless it’s Tetchou’s ghastly combination).

#reid speaks.ᐟ #with love—reid #bsd headcanons #bungou stray dogs headcanons

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shadowbriar · 2 months ago

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Matt Murdock - Waste My Time I

Pairing : Matt Murdock x (she/her)Reader Word Count : 4.6k Warning : Some curses. Fluff. Some cliff hanger, I think? Sets on Matt's uni years. Notes : I will do some updates on the prologue to better fit the plot. Let me know if you wanna be tagged for future chapters. Cheers! x If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

↞ Prologue

The smell of sugar and roasted beans were thick in the air. The establishment was packed with people. It wasn’t the usual cafe Matt and Foggy would go to. No, the cheap coffee truck on the way to the campus or perhaps the vending machine by their Advanced Constitutional Law class would do to grab a cup of americano from, but today isn’t one of those days.

Today is one of those days when Foggy would drag him to the other side of the city just to pick up some special sandwich that would guarantee a forgiveness pass from Marci. Today is one of those days when Foggy would pay for his americano, only to forget his wallet by the bedside table. Today is one of those days when Foggy would have to make another promise to pay for his meal as the blonde had to bail and run to give Marci her sandwich.

Now Matt, ever the understanding friend, certainly paid no mind with all of the troubles Foggy dragged him into this morning. He figured he could use the long way to his classes this morning. To try and see what exactly is on the other side of the campus when the sun is still out. When he was in his normal clothes and not hunting robbers. When he could actually be Matt Murdock and not the Daredevil.

But now standing by the side aisle to pick up his order, Matt knew that the lady who was too busy arguing on the phone with who seems to be a disastrous ex-husband, accidentally picked up his americano and left him with what smells to be a matcha latte with twice if not thrice the normal sugar level.

Matt’s lips pout a little. He’s certainly not in the mood to jump start his day with a lethal dose of diabetes, but Foggy’s left minutes ago and he couldn’t just call the barista to exchange his order without actually tasting the beverage. What excuse would he give? That he could smell that the drink in his hand isn’t what he ordered?

“Hi, sorry,” A voice of salvation echoes from his right. A woman who’s now approaching him with a gentle voice greets. Matt could taste the uncertainty in her tone, how her heart beats a little awkwardly as if she wasn’t sure if she was doing the right thing yet she does it anyway “I’m really sorry to be coming off as a creep like this, but I don’t think that’s your order.”

“No?” Matt asks with a raised eyebrow.

“No, I think the lady before you mistook your order.” She explained, taking the cup away from his hand “I overheard your order with your friend earlier, I was queueing behind you. You ordered an americano, right? This is a hot matcha.”

“Oh,” Matt says, feigning surprise “I wouldn’t have known.”

“Yeah.. Here, you can take my americano.” She offers, pushing her cup to his hand “I haven’t touched it or anything, I promise. It’s clean.”

“No, it’s fine I can just ask the barista—” Matt’s words were interrupted when his phone beeped, followed by the automatic reminder: his Conflict of Laws class starts in five minutes “Shit.”

“Yeah, just take it,” She insists “I’ll ask the barista to redo my order. It’s fine, really.”

“Thank you.” Matt says, accepting the warm cup at last “I appreciate it.”

“It’s no big deal.”

Matt wanted to prolong their conversation. She seems to be a genuinely kind person. Had he not been in a rush for being on the other side of the campus and having to come to class on time as Professor Barton would lock the door a second past nine, he would have stayed and continued talking to this one kind soul. At the very least, he would have asked for her name and asked if he could repay her kindness, perhaps with a slice of pizza and cold beer after class. But today isn’t one of those days.

Today is one of those days when he passed by someone he would wish he had more time to spare with. Today is one of those days when he met someone he would think of longer than the time he spent with said person. Today is one of those days when he hoped that he would meet her again.

—-

Her hair was dishevelled. She dares not to look at the time as it would only fuel her anxiety even worse. She planned to have her essays done before the clock strikes nine, but it has been hours since and she could barely call herself half way there.

The bigger side of the library has now turned dark. Students have retreated back to their bedrooms or have found themselves better things to waste the night with. It was Friday, afterall. Most wouldn’t even think of stepping their foot inside for the night, yet here she is, trying her best to stay afloat on the ocean of assignments that she’s evidently drowning in.

But when she was ready to take the consolation prize for being the most pathetic student of the year, a boy took the seat in front of her. He took out the things from his bag—several heavy textbooks and a laptop—as he tried to find comfort on the table, completely oblivious to her presence.

It was that boy. The boy she helped the other day in the cafe. Well, the word help would certainly be an overstatement as she only pointed out that he was holding the wrong order and offered hers in replacement, but she had a slight nervousness in her bones as she felt it was overstepping of her when she offered the proposal, so thinking that she was helping him feels a little rewarding and helped soothe her nerves a little.

She silently stares at him as he continues his work. His fingers trace the braille on his textbooks, mouth slightly moving as he tries to read the passages. The boy was beautiful to say the least. Like a beautiful painting you wouldn’t grow bored of even after hours of staring. The soft light of the library was hitting his face in all the right directions, enhancing his features that truthfully need no betterment yet it accentuates his beauty nonetheless.

Five if not fifteen minutes after her staring, she realises that she has to make her presence known. She wouldn’t want him to be startled if she makes any noises or movements, or worse makes him feel unsafe by her stealthy actions. The last thing she would want is to make him feel like she was a threat instead of a friend.

She taps on the table lightly, catching his attention, “Uh, I just want to let you know that you’re not alone at this table.”

“Oh, right,” The boy answers “Should I move?”

“No, no! I just wanted to let you know, that’s all. Please don’t move.” She says fast.

The boy’s lips curved into a smile but his brows knitted, “I’m sorry, have we met before? You sound familiar.”

“Uh, yeah, I’m the girl from the cafe,” She says, the same uncertainty lacing her tone “I swear I’m not trying to stalk you or anything. I just happen to be in the same place you are for some reason.”

“I never thought of you as one,” The boy says with a smile “I’m Matt, by the way.”

She tells him her name.

Matt whispers her name, letting it roll on his tongue like it’s going to settle for a long time there, “I don’t mean to be rude, but what are you doing in a library on a Friday?”

“The same reason as you have, I’m sure.” She says with a sigh, not wanting to elaborate “What major are you taking?”

“Law, you?”

“International Affairs.” She answered, biting on her pencil as she judged him “Law, huh? Well, aren’t you a smarty pants.”

Matt chuckles.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Stupid heart.

“Listen,” Matt says after a visible nervous lick of his lips “I hope this isn’t too straight forward, but I really appreciate what you did the other day, and I figured I owe you some form of gratitude, so I was wondering if.. You’d be free some time soon? Maybe this weekend? We can grab some food and sit by the park or do whatever it is you find amusing.”

Her smile grows, “Are you asking me for a date?”

“No, I’m showing you my gratitude,” He argues “But masked as a date, yes.”

It was practically impossible for her to bite down her grin by now. Eternally grateful that most of the lights in the library are out and that he couldn’t see the stupid smile on her face. She was sure that her cheeks were red and that her eyes were as big as puppy’s with how charming Matt is. Exactly how more perfect can the man sitting in front of her be? Beautiful face, delightful talking, and certainly a brilliant mind. At this point he could either be her knight in shining armour or a complete psychopath, no in between.

“So.. Would you have any free time?”

“How’s next week? Friday?”

Matt nods, smiling softly, “Friday it is.”

—-

Days leading up to the date passed as slow as it could get, even when they were spent by meeting her at the library before his night patrols. Matt knew that it was practically wrong of him to insert himself in her life. To come uninvited to her table that night, acting as if he didn’t know it was her nor did he not know of her presence, but in his defence, he didn’t deliberately plan to meet her. It only so happened that he finished his nightly patrol quickly that night and that she was in the library when he initially wanted to spend the rest of the night finishing his paperworks.

At that moment, he thought that God was aligning their stars. It wasn’t everyday that he had the urge to finish patrol early. It wasn’t everynight that he wanted to spend the rest of the night in the library. It certainly wasn’t every Friday that he would find her there. In fact, he couldn’t recall if she’s ever been to the library before. He would’ve caught the familiarity of her scent at the cafe if she was a regular there.

Though Matt knew that he couldn’t offer much to her, not his full time nor attention as they’re both reserved to keeping Hell’s Kitchen a little safer each night, Matt was willing to give everything he has left to get to know her better. It wasn’t everyday he could meet someone who would treat her with kindness that is pacifying without any hint of humiliation. She knows just the right amount of care to show without having to walk on eggshells around him and that’s something Matt very much appreciates.

All of it felt like it was meant to be. That he was meant to get that wrong order and that she was to intervene and rescue him from that God awful latte. It felt like he was meant to go to the library that night and meet her once again. And it certainly felt like their date tonight was meant to happen.

“Oh, this is gold,” She moans as she takes another bite of their pizza.

Matt smiles, satisfied to hear her blissful commentary, “It’s good, isn’t it?”

“The best,” She says shortly. There was a sudden silence from her and Matt wonders if something had happened but she quickly speaks “Uh, you’ve got.. Um, you’ve got some sauce on your lips.”

“Yeah?” Matt asks, his free hand wiping the sides of his lips.

“It’s still there. I think it’s dried a little,” She says, that hint of uncertainty reappearing in her voice “Can I just?”

“Yeah, go for it.”

And she wipes the corner of his lips gently. The warmth of his skin was in contrast to the cold wind that gushed their way and it only amplified the butterflies in her stomach as their skin made contact. Supposed he felt the unexpected jolt of electricity too because his jaw tenses a little before he lets out a sigh when she finishes wiping his lips.

“Thanks.” Matt whispers with a smile.

She didn’t say a word, only humming a little to show response.

Had Matt not have his heightened senses, he would have thought that something wrong happened but he could hear the not-so-steady beat of her heart and how her body heat rises a little. She was just nervous, just as much, if not less erratic than he is. If only she could feel his heart and hear just how loudly it’s beating right now, acting as if it’s trying to burst forth his ribcage, she would perhaps feel a little less agitated.

It was too soon to say, but Matt couldn’t ignore all the blissful connections they’ve shared. He felt as if he’s finally met his match. The knot to his strings, the solace to his rage. He knew that there’s still so many layers of himself that he’s yet to show her, the sides of Matt Murdock and Daredevil that he’s yet to expose to her, but for reasons he couldn’t explain, he felt like he could take his time and savour the moment as it unfolds.

A little egoistic of him, but what exactly can he do at the time?

“This is great,” She says, breaking his train of thought “I very much enjoyed tonight.”

“Oh no, are we reaching the end of the night?”

“No,” She chuckles, shaking her head “I just wanted to say it, just in case I forget to and you wonder if I’m having a great time or not.”

Matt grins, his heart swells in pride and joy, “I’m having a great time, too.”

The night passes far too fast for either of their liking. There seems to be a never ending topic for the both of them to discuss. From the major they’re taking, their roommates, down to how honking your car is illegal here in New York, everything feels like an interesting subject to dissect. Like an overflowing flow of soft ripples that hit your ankles on the beach shore. Soothing and intriguing at the same time.

Both their feet now carry them around the city, directionless yet certainly not lost. She was clutching on his arm, trying to make sure that he wouldn’t trip as they walked through the park and around the neighbourhood. For most it would certainly be the most bland date as neither of them knew where to go nor what to do, but neither of them had any complaints. It was perfect as it is.

Until it wasn’t.

Matt could feel the sudden spike of her heartbeat. Whoever it is that’s standing by the porch, whoever’s house party it is that they stumbled upon, she certainly didn’t have any intention to join nor stopped by at it, yet from the sweat that’s starting to build on her skin, he knew that she has to.

“About time you appear!” Some girl yells, clearly directed at her.

“Shoot,” She mutters, sounding like she was caught red handed over some crime he wasn’t sure about “She’s going to have my head on a spike for this one.”

“Is everything okay?” Matt asks, his brows knitted in confusion.

“Yeah, it’s just my friend’s birthday and I— Fuck,” She curses, running a hand through her hair “I completely forgot it’s today.”

Matt forces a smile, “It’s fine, we can call it a night.”

“No, I’ll be right back,” She whispers to him, squeezing his arm a little before she jogs a little to the group of people on the porch.

“Oh, you’re in so much trouble,” One of the girls says as she approaches them “Gaby’s been asking for you for hours! Your phone’s dead, we couldn’t reach you—,”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” She apologises, she was honest with her apology, Matt could hear it in her heartbeat “I completely forgot about her birthday party, and I double booked tonight, and I just—”

“So you chose to bail on your best friend's birthday instead?” Her friend argues.

“I mean, he’s cute, I would totally bail on Gaby’s birthday too,” Her other friend commented, making Matt smile a little “Who’s he? I didn’t know you’re seeing someone.”

“I— It’s a long story, okay? I’ll tell you guys later,” She frantically says, trying to save herself from the wrath of her friends “I’ll call it a night with him. Please don’t tell Gaby that I forgot about her birthday, okay? Just tell her I overslept or something.”

Matt bites the inner of his cheek. One of the downplay of hearing every and each conversation others have is knowing what’s to come before it actually hits you. Sure it might come as useful for certain times, but Matt was reluctant to bid his goodbye just yet. He wanted the night to last just a little bit longer, to feel her presence just a few hours longer and to walk around with her just a few miles further. Now it’s clear that he would have to scrape those desires off of his list.

“I am so so so sorry about this,” She says as she comes close to him, her words dripping with regret and guilt “I completely forgot about her birthday party and I just— God, we should’ve taken a left from that park.”

Matt chuckles, “We should have, yeah.”

“I’m really sorry,” She says once again “I’d invite you in but I don’t know how Gaby would react with me being four hours late to her birthday party and I really don’t want you to be trialled for it with me.”

“I understand, don’t worry about it.”

“God, I’m really the biggest arsehole there is, huh?”

“For now, yes,” Matt jests “But don’t worry about it. I had a great time.”

“I had a great time, too. Do you.. Do you know the way back?”

Matt nods, “I’ll manage.”

“Okay,” She smiles apologetically, clearly not wanting to part either yet her feet are already moving towards the house as her friends continue to call for her “I’m really sorry, Matt. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Once again, Matt nods and smiles.

He turns his body away from the house, retracing his way back to the campus. Sure it wasn’t the most ideal way to end their date, he feels like he could and deserves to yell a bit to her friends for stealing her away from him ever so rudely like that, but he figures that he’s had his fair share of her tonight. He reminds himself that it was a Friday night. It was honestly a little too good to be true for someone as delightful as her to have her night free of dates and appointments, so to find out that she’s actually booked for a party is certainly not much of a surprise. Matt only wished that he didn’t know it the way he did.

They certainly should’ve taken a left from the park and avoided this neighbourhood altogether.

“Wait, Matt!”

Matt’s pace was put to a halt. He turns back to face the direction of her voice. He could hear her slight pants and the slight jog she made toward him. A small smile returned to his face, “Yes?”

“You surely didn’t think I’d let you go without a kiss, did you?” She asks, her breathing fickle from the short exercise “Or did you not want one?”

“I’d love one,” He says fast “Please.”

Matt’s grip on his cane tightened a little as she took a step closer. She places her arms around his shoulders and Matt swore he suddenly forgets what’s to do with his limbs. He wasn’t sure if he should put his hands on her waist or should he keep still. It was very much out of character for him. He’s had kisses before, had dates with plenty of other girls, but how is it that he has no idea how to act when it comes to her?

When their lips met, Matt swears that he could climb the Empire State Building with his bare hands. It was an uneventful kiss, certainly not the most creative that he’s ever had, but the electricity he felt was beyond compare. It was as if the kisses he’s had before were mere teasers to what it truly is. Like he was deprived of something he’s been so hungry from. Like he was deprived of her.

“I had a great time tonight,” She says as they part, sounding as if the kiss didn’t just flip her whole world upside down like it did to him “I’ll see you soon?”

“Tomorrow,” He promises “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” She agrees through her smile “Goodnight, Matt.”

“Goodnight.”

—-

She chews on her lower lip as if determined to make them bleed once again. Her eyes were glued to the clock, watching as it ticks with each second instead of averting her focus back to the papers on her table. Finishing her tasks prove to be a more challenging issue to tackle with each passing day.

Before she knew it, it was already Thursday. Matt promised to meet her the next day after their date, yet such a promise was never fulfilled. She figured that he might just have to do a rain check about their meeting, perhaps having some last minute task that he has to finish before the weekend ended, but even when Monday comes, he still was a no show.

Sorry, something happened. Will be in touch once it’s resolved. M

Now what should a girl do with such a short message?

Each day she would wake up early to go to the cafe where they first met and each noon when her classes were finished, she would try to run herself to the library, hoping that he would magically pop up out of nowhere like he did the very first night they met. Those efforts prove to be no avail as the expected man never bothered to make an entrance.

She wonders if their abrupt separation was what caused him to ghost her. She argues, the kiss they shared should’ve been enough to make him overlook the unpleasant farewell. It was much more than enough for her end, but could it be that it wasn’t the same for him? Could it be that he was more baffled about her last minute dick move that he decided to cut it off? Could it be that he’s had enough of her?

“Is this seat reserved?”

Her head perched up, excited to hear the familiar voice that she so missed about, “Unfortunately, yes. It’s been reserved for a week, actually.”

Matt shows an apologetic smile, “Is it still reserved?”

“Depends,” She teases, closing her laptop as she realises that there would be no work done for the rest of the night “If the culprit could explain and give a life-threatening excuse to save himself, I suppose he can still claim his reservation.”

“What if he could only offer an apology and say that he’s desperately sorry for being a douche?”

“No explanation?”

Matt hesitates, “No, none that he could disclose.”

“Not even a little?”

“I—,” Matt licks his bottom lip. It was a habit he does whenever he’s nervous, she notices. He takes the seat and rests his white cane on the side of the table. He looks troubled, like he’s trying to piece words in his mind that he’s not familiar with “Look, I.. I don’t exactly have any explanations to give you. I just.. I have been away. And I fear that I will have to be away for more times than I’d like in the future.”

She remains quiet, listening and watching as he tries to speak.

“I like you, a lot. We had the best date of my life last week, but I don’t think I have what you’re looking for,” He continues, looking conflicted and hurt with his own words “I just— I’m sorry, I really hope I could give more than what I have, but at the same time, I selfishly don’t want to lose you either so if we could just— If we could just be friends, I think I would like that very much.”

Matt could sense the piqued beating of her heart. The news he came to bear was certainly bitter, even more to him than her if he could only be so honest. But what happened earlier this week made him realise that he wasn’t in a position to be in a relationship with anyone. Especially not with someone who looks like she’s willing to go the extra mile for him.

It was supposed to be an easy rescue mission. Some petty robbery that happened on some dingy alley of Hell’s Kitchen that he expected to be settled an hour at most, only to turn out to be a complicated one as he came home with more bruises and wounds than he could count. He had to once again lie to Foggy and say that he was the one being robbed by a group of thugs in order to be able to go to their dorm room and sleep in. But as the lies roll off of his tongue, Matt realises that she would be another person he would have to lie to everytime he comes back bruised from a patrol. She would be another person he would have to deceive with excuses that never truly touch the truth. She would be another tally in his long list of people to ask forgiveness from.

And that’s something he doesn’t think he could live in for long.

So he figured to lock himself inside for a couple of days until his bruises heal. He refuses to meet her when he’s still littered with wounds he couldn’t explain to her about. Even when his finger itches to text her, even when his feet were begging him to let them carry him to the library, even when he was yearning for him more than ever, Matt has to hold himself within the walls of his dorm room that feels like they’re closing in with every passing day.

Now that he finally looks decent enough to go back to his classes, he finally gathered the guts to see and talk to her. There was a mix of bittersweet feelings when he sensed her sitting by their table alone. Relieved to know that she’s waiting, yet sorry that he has to come bearing bad news.

“I.. I don’t know what to say,” She says, blinking rapidly as she tries to digest his words “Are you in some kind of trouble, Matt? You can talk to me if you are. We can try and figure it out.”

“No, no, I’m fine,” He answers “It’s more of a.. Me thing. I just have to deal with some things first.”

She nods, feeling a hint of grief pooling in her heart, “I see.”

There was a pause. Neither have the slightest idea to go forward from this. Both clearly want to continue whatever it is they left off, but they’re truly on a stalemate here, aren’t they? What could she do when he’s asked her to let this go and stay as friends instead? What could he do when he wanted to have her close but only have just started to be the Daredevil? What could they do when they have so much to say yet so little to share?

“I’m really sorry,” Matt says instead.

“No, I understand,” She shakes her head, forcing a smile “Friends it is, then.”

And so it begins. The never ending loop of wasting each other’s time for the sake of wasting time. The never ending cycle of stealing a brush of the other’s hand under the table for the sake of accidental touches. The never ending series of pouring each others’ heart through the stories they share just for the sake of sharing. Always more than what friends do, but never less than what lovers should.

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock imagines #matt murdock scenario #matt murdock scenarios #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x oc

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basuralindo · 7 months ago

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Hey I'm dropping a crepe recipe because there's still people around who think they're hard to make and I'm sick of french food being romanticized to the point of inaccessibility.

I call this a 3-2-1 method to make it easy to remember; 3 eggs, 2 cups water/fluid of choice, 1 cup flour.

I'm sparing you the obligatory backstory on my path to cooking extremely flat pancakes because we both know that neither of us care. If you want to hear me overshare check my blog between 1-4am pacific time.

•Anyway, start with three eggs and beat with a fork until they're all one color (you can use a whisk or an egg beater but I hate the extra steps. Fork it):

•Add 1 cup flour:

•Add whatever dry flavoring you want (I usually go with cinnamon and cardamom, today we're doing matcha cause that happens to be what I'm cooking. Some mornings caffeine is meant to be eaten):

•Add sugar to taste if desired. It's not necessary for the recipe, and if you've managed to add enough to throw off the consistency you've got other shit to worry about, so follow your heart. I usually use like two tablespoons or so (I prefer brown, but white tastes better with matcha):

•Decide on your fluid of choice. Water and/or milk is the usual, but you can do literally whatever you want; hot cocoa, coffee, tea, soda -whatever you want them to taste like. Go nuts with it. Use soup if you want idgaf it's between you and your chosen god at this point. I recommend starting with 2 cups for simplicity, but you can add more if needed for the right consistency. At this point I just eyeball it tbh.

•Add a little at a time and start mixing until it's as smooth as you can get (this is also where you'd add wet flavorings, like vanilla extract):

•Add the rest until the batter is roughly the consistency of heavy whipping cream, or like thin tomato soup (if you actually ran with the soup joke, add a little water to thin it out). Just get it to where it's still a little viscous but will run if you pour it on the pan:

•For best results cover and let it sit in the fridge overnight or for a few hours (it will separate a little, just mix it again). For last minute "I forgot to prep this last night but I really want crepes" results, we're putting it aside while I wash dishes and heat up the pan.

•Ladle out like ¼ cups worth onto a hot lubricated pan (butter or cooking oil, medium heat) and swirl it until it coats the bottom. Don't stress if it looks like shit the first few times, that's what practice is for, add a little more fluid if it's not spreading well:

•cook until the top is no longer wet and edges start to lighten:

•Flip it with either a very flat spatula or sheer hubris (spatula recommended for beginners), and cook for like 45 seconds (I have no sense of time), then slide it onto a plate:

•Top with whatever you want and try whatever folds/rolls you saw in that one show that made you think these were cool.

Go forth, have fun, eat well.

(if you want an even easier method with only mild sacrifice to quality: mix a couple eggs and some extra fluid into your leftover pancake batter and leave it in the fridge for the next morning)

#cooking #crepes #recipes #crepe recipe #crêpes #breakfast #food #dessert #brunch #probably don't use soup but who am i to stop you #baking #i guess #trash talk #bastard food #my bullshit #the bastard cookbook

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abitchnamedtia · 4 months ago

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Arcane main characters' order in a coffee shop

I used to be a barista and had to stop bc of my studies, so here's my impression of what these Arcane characters would order in a coffee shop. (Tell me if you'd like this with other fandom/characters !)

And yes, I used to judge people on what they'll order lol

Jinx : a strawberry milkshake with a lot of whipped cream

Vi : a latte bc she's a cool grown up, but regrets it immediately and go ask the barista to put some chocolate syrup inside because it taste like shit (she promise herself that she'll ask for a mocha or just a hot cocoa next time)

Caitlyn : a latte with almond milk and some caramel syrup

Jaycee : a hot cocoa with a lot of whip cream and some caramel on top

Viktor : a cold brew, something to stay up and that won't get cold, since it's already cold, if he forgets it while focusing on his work

Mel : a matcha latte with coconut milk, she has good tastes

Silco : a double ristretto bc he's a psycho and needs some energy to deal with Jinx

Sevika : a long coffee in a large cup (the biggest one) and ask to add 6 expresso shot inside. She'll mix this atrocity with 6 sugar packs and drink it in 2 minutes. She's a menace and knows it.

#arcane #silco arcane #caitlyn arcane #sevika #jinx #vi arcane #viktor arcane #jayce talis #arcane jayce #mel medarda #arcane headcanon #arcane league of legends

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mirllop · 5 months ago

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bakugou VS matcha latte

Midoriya: Hey, Kacchan! Try this new drink I made! Bakugou: What is it, nerd? Midoriya: It's called a matcha latte. Look, and it's even green, just like my hair! Bakugou: Are you trying to poison me? Midoriya: No! No. Just try it. Please? It's just water, milk, and the matcha powder. Bakugou: Fine. Give. *Bakugou sips it* Midoriya: Well? Bakugou: It tastes like shit. *sips more* Midoriya: Oh. That's a shame. Bakugou: *still sipping* What did you expect, shitty nerd? Midoriya: I'll just take it back then... Bakugou: *turns away, STILL SIPPING* No. I'll keep it. It's disgusting. Midoriya: ...?!? Bakugou: I need to make sure it's properly disgusting all the way through. *still sipping, is halfway finished already* Midoriya: O-Oh. Um, okay. Well, I made some extras, so I think I'm going to go give some to Uraraka and the others... Bakugou: There's more of this shitty drink?? Give it to me. Right now. Midoriya: ... Bakugou: I have to make sure they all taste this bad. So I can properly say it's garbage. Midoriya: You could just admit that you like it. Bakugou: I DON'T LIKE IT! IT'S SHITTY! JUST LIKE YOU! Midoriya: So in that case... you don't want another one? Bakugou: Give me the damn drink.

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cosmicalily · 19 days ago

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"to be loved is to be remembered" - a mini series by @cosmicalily. view series masterlist, and outline here

procedural memory | kim seungmin x fem!reader

procedural memory: a type of implicit memory that is categorised as the unconscious guide to the processes and tasks performed on a daily basis.

author's note: this might be one of my favourite seungmin fics i've ever written. and maybe i'm biased because he is my bias and i love strawberry matcha, but i think sometimes it's okay to be self indulgent. enjoy!

There were many things that Seungmin would do without realising, as if he was on autopilot. Actions that were ingrained into his daily routine, little activities that made up his day without his awareness. The way he made his bed, the double knot he always tied on his shoelaces, the route he took to the coffee shop where he worked. He loved his routine; he loved simplicity and consistency.

At work, he thought even less about his actions. He was a quick learner, and had mastered the art of perfect coffee early on. He heard the words ‘latte’ or ‘flat white’ and somehow the completed drink would appear in front of him thirty seconds later.

“Do you do iced strawberry matchas?” a voice asked, snapping Seungmin out of his coffee-scented daze. He looked at the shot he’d started running for a flat white and then at you, cheeks pink from the cold and eyes sparkling. A soft blue scarf was wrapped around your neck, covering your chin, and you wore a cosy navy cable knit sweater, just a little too big at the sleeves.

Seungmin thought intently. “We don’t,” he said truthfully, drumming his fingers on the benchtop. “But give me a second. I’ll try and make something for you.”

You beamed in excitement. “Thank you!”

“It’s no problem,” Seungmin gave a half smile back, digging around for the matcha powder. “Although, I have to say, who orders an iced drink in the middle of winter?”

Your cheeks flushed a little pinker and you rolled your eyes. “Shut up, it’s business for you, isn’t it? And I’ll tip, obviously, because it’s a custom order. They just don’t taste as good warm. I tried it once, and it was awful.”

“Was it?” Seungmin paused, tipping the ice cubes from your cup back into the tray and placing it into the freezer. “I’m going to try and change your mind. Out of confidence as a good barista, but also out of concern for your health, because you’re literally going to freeze as soon as you step outside with ice in your system.”

“And if I don’t like it?”

“It’s on the house.”

“Deal,” you agreed, leaning against the counter and watching as he poured the frothed strawberry milk, creating a little bear design. He leaned to grab a lid, but you knocked his hand away. “It’ll cover the art you did,” you protested, and he shook his head in amusement.

You breathed in the soft, sweet scent and took a sip, thinking hard. Seungmin watched intently, his attention distracted from the three coffee orders he had lined up to complete next. You smiled, and his face softened. “Good?” he asked.

“It’s shit,” you deadpanned, then burst out laughing. “It’s amazing! How much do I owe you for it?”

“Nothing,” Seungmin replied, eyes shining.

You opened your mouth to protest, but he gave you a warning look. “Do you do this often, then?” you asked, taking another long sip of your drink.

“What do you mean?”

“Save girls with silly drink orders from hypothermia.”

“Sure, it’s my favourite pastime,” Seungmin replied seriously, though his eyes twinkled mischievously. “No, not ever before. You’re the first, Strawberry.”

Your smile widened at the nickname. “Even if you’re lying, I feel special. Thank you…” you paused.

“Seungmin,” he finished, handing over a latte to a man behind you.

“Thank you, Seungmin. I’ll be back, I promise!”

He nodded. “I know you will. See you around, Miss Matcha.”

You snorted and walked towards the door, spinning around and blowing him a quick kiss. He winked and you burst into a fit of laughter, and once you were properly out of sight, he let a full smile creep across his face.

By your third visit to the coffee shop, he didn’t even need a prompt to make your order. By the fifth, your drink would be sitting, ready for you, extra hot. Even though you no longer had a reason to wait, you always stayed to talk to him, and he was thankful you did.

Soon, Seungmin became unconsciously aware of your routine, of your timing, of your daily scarf rotation. Once winter ended, he caved and made you your first iced strawberry matcha, which you declared better than any other iced drink you’d ever consumed. He still refused to let you pay, but he was always accepting of your newfound habit of leaning across the counter and giving him a quick kiss before you left for the morning. Initially on the cheek, but by mid spring, on the lips. Your kisses tasted of your mauve lipstick, cinnamon, and of course, strawberry matcha.

After a year of dating, you moved into his apartment. Seungmin, a lover of routine and consistency, found himself mesmerised by your sporadic actions and in the moment decisions. It didn’t frustrate him, the way he worried it would. Your presence was a constant, something dependable that he centred his new, irregular routine around, filled with evening walks and beach day trips. He learnt your habits, and soon, your actions were as familiar to him as his own. He would still make his bed in the morning, and you'd help him, finishing the job off with the two jellycat puppies you'd bought for your six month anniversary. He would tie a double knot in his shoelaces, and wait for you to slip on your ballet flats. Whilst you always had your signature drink at his shop, he knew you loved chamomile before bed, and there was always a mug of it by your bedside after you'd gotten out of the shower.

And of course, you did the same for him, but in your own way. You'd lay on top of him, playing with his hair for hours, explaining every single thing you adored about him. You cooked him dinner, and you'd sit on the counter beside him as he did the dishes. It was routine. You were each other's routines.

He kept working at the coffee shop, but now as a manager, although he always insisted on making your drink himself, and you would visit him, sometimes bringing your laptop and glasses with you to set up in a corner and work, other times bringing whatever book you were currently engrossed in.

“Hi baby,” you smiled up at him, stretching your arms and dog-earing your page.

“You know I hate when you do that,” he groaned, sitting beside you on the bench. Nevertheless, he pressed a kiss against your cheek and you giggled.

“I know, but like, it shows the love I have for my books. The ones that have crumpled pages and tea stains and frayed edges are the ones I read the most.”

Seungmin shook his head. “I’m just teasing. I love you and your broken books.”

“They aren’t broken-” you protested, but he cupped your face in his hands and silenced you with a soft kiss.

“I love you,” he repeated, eyes glossed over.

“I love you too,” you gazed back at him. Your book fell off your lap, but you didn’t move to grab it. The strawberry matcha Seungmin had brought over was probably cooling, but you didn’t care. It was moments like this where everything felt like muscle memory, where nothing felt new or uncomfortable. He was familiar.

He grabbed your hand, entwining your fingers in his. You gently stroked his thumb, then whined when he let go of your hand to reach in his pocket. “What are you doing?” you asked, then you paused.

He’d slotted a ring on your finger.

“You can say no,” he said, looking you directly in the eye. "You can take it off. But it feels right for me. I saw it in the window the other day and I didn’t even think, I just bought it. Which is crazy, because you know I overthink and overplan everything.”

“I know, you’re a dork,” you smiled, but your eyes were glassy. “Why the fuck would I say no? Of course I’ll marry you.”

Seungmin breathed out and pulled you in a tight embrace. He felt warm, he smelled like coffee, and the skin of his neck was soft against your cheek. “I’m glad, because I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

“I’m only doing it for the strawberry matcha, of course,” you quipped, chuckling.

“I’m only doing it out of pity,” he added.

“Dickhead.”

“Asshole.”

You leaned against him, his arms around your waist. He kissed your cheek, your forehead, your shoulder, and you rubbed his back. A buzz went off in his back pocket, a reminder that his break was over.

“So,” he broke the hug, rubbing the back of his neck. “Your drink’s probably cold. So I guess, as a good barista, I probably have to make you a new one.”

“I’m gonna make out with you for hours tonight, Kim Seungmin,” you declared. “You’re my dream boy.” You blew him a kiss as he stood up, taking your drink with him, and he winked in return.

You watched his reflection on the steel coffee machine, and saw him smile.

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