#pulpy orange juice

[m0nst3r-chugg1ng-1d10t-g1rl]

If you don’t like pulp in your orange juice, you are a coward and are scared of flavour, full offence intended xx

[thisliminalspacedaydreams]

...Why does this always happen to me.

These are my battles, these are my fights. This is the path I forge for myself.

[isdalinarhot]

I think that any Stormlight adaptation would have to greatly change how twok dalivani works because without being able to read Dalinar’s thoughts about how sexy Navani is it would just look like Navani sexually harassing Dalinar

[specialshinytrinkets]

who wants a

Frozen Street Pulpy?

[grimsneverendingfuneral]

Why the never ending funeral part dear Grim?

im on some ouroboros shit

[sweetlee]

i do not trust leander

[watatsumiis]

General, don't waste pulpy orange juice like that! >:(

Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry.

I'll do better next time

And pour it down a drainpipe where it belongs

[wellgoslowly]

.... anthony lockwood that motherfucker

hot girls dream about fictional characters they can't have all day

[yormp]

Why is it that the only time I ever want orange juice is right after I’ve brushed my teeth?

[zisurru]

you can be like "don't care for orange juice with pulp" on tumblr and here comes insecure andy like "lmfao, why is it such a big deal if orange juice has pulp? why are you so mad? like, calm down lmfao. like, why does it even matter to you if orange juice has pulp in it? do you think pulpy juice is the end of the world? is there something wrong with you? what's wrong with you? is it autism?"

[thisliminalspacedaydreams]

pulpy orange juice forever!!!

Couples that both like pulpy orange juice stay together, it's the law.

That's how your recognize your soulmate, and Regulus ain't blind. He saw the pulpy juice in James' hand and thought, my my, here I go.

[ezratheunready]

If you willingly and purposely only seek out orange juice with pulp in it Immediately don’t trust you. That is serial killer behavior. 

[isdalinarhot]

Modern au dalivani middle aged pet is a little white dog with crust in his eyes named Cookie who is incredibly stupid and has every disease because Dalinar keeps feeding him table scraps

Modern au sadalinar middle aged pet is a calico cat with long fur named Princess who is mean to everybody except Sadeas, like literally a cat from a movie where the protagonists are talking mice, and she bites Dalinar every day

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just the Two of Us: Helping Hand

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you meet someone you never expect at the grocery store.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You sway back and forth holding your few staples. You wait patiently for checkout, happy enough to do so as you avoid the typical awkward interaction of the checkout lane. Some might dread it, but you prefer self-checkout. It spares you the face-scalding small talk with the cashiers and you’re certain they don’t hate you for it either. 

The man at the machine just ahead of you hisses and tips his head back. He takes a deep breath and sets his chin straight, scratching his blond hair as the machine beeps at him. He seems frustrated by the scanner as he waves a jar of peanut butter back and forth over it. 

“Come on...” he mutters then stops to look around. The attendant is at another machine, helping a woman key in her produce. “...should just leave it...” 

You watch him as he turns back to the screen and taps it in exasperation. There’s something familiar about him. In a city this big, odds are you could see the same face a dozen time in the same day and not know it. 

“Um, excuse me,” your bag of sourdough rustles as you tiptoe slowly close, “do you want some help?” 

He turns to you and you’re stricken as you recognise him at once. It’s Steve Rogers. Captain America. The homegrown hero of New York! 

“I’m so sorry. I know I’m taking forever here,” he pushes his hair back. It’s a mess from his anguished scratching and combing. “I’m trying, I swear.” 

“Here, er, do you mind,” you balance your armful as you near. He steps back and shakes his head, “you got a better chance of figuring this dang thing out.” 

“Alright, no promises, but I used to work retail, so, I think I can,” you carefully set down your groceries at the edge of the small metal shelf of the self-checkout. “Peanut butter, please.” 

He looks down at the jar then hands it over. Your fingertips brush as you take it and find the barcode. You angle it down and the machine scans it right away. He groans and puts his palm to his forehead. 

“Of course,” he sniffs. “I promise I’m not a total disaster. I thought this would be faster.” 

“It’s fine, I don’t mind,” you smile. “Least I can do for the First Avenger.” 

He visibly cringes, “right.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you shake your head. “I wasn’t... meaning to... do you need help with the rest?” 

He nods and looks down. Now you feel awful. You didn’t mean to embarrass him. You take his bunch of bananas and key in the number then weigh it. You put it aside and finish with his pulpy orange juice and a can of ovaltine... Ovaltine? 

“Right, I think that’s it,” you gather up your stuff. “You’re all set and there’s a machine free so I’ll get out of your hair.” 

He slips his fingers into his pocket and slides out his wallet, “thanks. Appreciate it.” 

You sidle away and claim the next machine. You scan through your bread, cans of salmon, six-pack of muffins, and the little odds and ends. You unfold your reusable bag and put each inside before you pay. 

“Ahem,” the deep noise draws you away from the pinpad. “Hey, uh, I’m sorry if I came of... rude. It’s not you. The dang machine just—got the best of me. It’s not you and I mean, you were just being nice. And helpful.” 

“Really, it’s no problem,” you smile as you keep your hand on the debit machine. 

“I know but I almost made it one.” 

“No, it’s nothing,” you turn back to finish before the machine times out. It thinks as he lingers close by. 

“You’re really nice. I don’t deserve that. Captain should know better,” he says. “But I do prefer Steve.” 

He holds out his hand as you swipe your card free and tuck it away. You shove it back in your purse and face him. You take his free hand and shake it as you offer your name. “Nice to meet you, Steve.” 

“You, too.” 

“Um,” you look behind him, “don’t wanna be in anyone’s way.” 

You quickly snatch up your bag and hurry out of the checkout area. He follows you with long but easy strides. As you pass through the door, he’s only a step behind. 

“Look, I’m sure you have somewhere to be,” he says as he catches up. “But, uh, could I carry your bag or something? I feel like I owe you.” 

“Oh, no, it’s not very empty,” you assure him. “But thanks!” 

“Hmm, well, how about...” he looks around, “coffee?” 

You follow his gaze across the street. You’re not really in a hurry but you didn’t plan to be sitting down at a cafe. Your leggings a loose sweatshirt aren’t exactly trendsetting. 

“I mean it, you know, it wasn’t anything at all.” You insist. 

“Yeah, but how many nice people do you meet around here, huh?” He asks. As if to make his point, he grabs your elbow and angles you away from the edge of the sidewalk as the man behind you nearly walks right over you. “Gotta admit, you’re the first friendly face I’ve met since I got out of the ice and that was a while ago.” 

“Uh, wow, that’s sweet. I suppose a coffee won’t hurt,” you say. “And I know what you mean, I’ve been here two months and I don’t know anyone. I thought a made a friend but she stole my shoes and never called me back.” 

“Really? Someone did that to you?” He flutters his lashes in disbelief. “That’s rotten.” 

“I suppose she really liked them. Besides, they weren’t very practical. Kind of uncomfortable so really, she did me a favour,” you laugh. “One thing I learned, the city moves fast and you gotta keep up with it. So, I just keep going. As best I can.” 

“Hm, well,” he turns with you as you reach the crosswalk. “I think we wear a different size so I promise, I won’t steal those.” 

You glance down at your knockoff Uggs in purple and snort, “oh, you think so?” You move your foot closer to his and compare the difference with his large leather shoes. “I think you could squeeze in.” 

He laughs, a rocky rumble that fills you with warmth. Or maybe you’re a bit starstruck. If you had any friends, you might just brag to them that you met the Captain. You guess you’ll just have to savour it to yourself. 

[hey-august]

⚔️ Would he peel the orange? 🍊 (Cross Guild x Reader)

🐊 Crocodile 🐊

Yes. But only once.

It's malicious compliance, really.

After you've asked a few times, he'll give in with a grumble.

It's a massacre. A slaughter.

The poor citrus was hooked and stabbed so many times that it's a sad pulpy lump.

Crocodile licks the juice off his fingers and winks at you.

He claims that he was trying to get the seeds out. Really, it was all to make a point.

He'd rather pay someone to peel oranges for you. Or buy you fruit that is less high maintenance.

Here's the thing, though, Crocodile has no qualms about peeling bananas for you. He seems to have a soft spot for that particular fruit...

🦅 Mihawk 🦅

Yes, although he'll make a sly comment at first. He's seen you peel oranges before.

He's aware this is some sort of game. A test. And he's willing to indulge you.

Mihawk pulls off the peel in one long continuous strip. It's a beautiful curled ribbon of zest.

He also picks at any areas with too much pith, carefully removing the bitter fluff.

The same for stringy pieces. His deft fingers meticulously remove anything that would ruin your snack.

Mihawk also asks if you want him to segment the orange. It seems like he wants to do this part, so you let him.

After this, there's an unspoken expectation that you'll peel oranges for each other. You're not as thorough, but you're learning.

Eventually, the smell of citrus reminds you of the swordsman.

🤡 Buggy 🤡

So...no.

The first time you ask, he just cuts the orange into wedges. It doesn't matter if the peel is still there, you can just eat the fruit.

The next time you ask, he dramatically pulls off his gloves and snatches the orange from your hands.

He pulls off pieces of peel and drops them wherever. On the table, the floor, dropping them over the railing...

And since you're a captive audience waiting, Buggy will start cracking jokes and telling stories.

He gets so invested into whatever story he's telling that he starts eating the orange. Your orange.

Buggy doesn't realize until he's eaten nearly half of the citrus fruit.

He looks at you with cheeks full of partially chewed orange and juice on his chin to ask if you wanted the rest or if he could have it.

Happy Valentine's Day, loves. ❤️