#wish they had a ‘medium’ cup instead of only small/large

[miss-floral-thief]

Smoothie place doesn’t have boba but they take my request

To add oj into my smoothies so yay

#wish they had a ‘medium’ cup instead of only small/large #also had #cheesecake but maybe next time #they also had those Mexican popsicles that are packed #tightly but it’s not too hot after six to still need one on top of a smoothie lol #personalice #food mention

[dreadsuitsamus]

Teacher's Night Out | Satoru Gojo x Reader |

author's note: i just imagined a silly lil night like this with him haha he honestly would be so much fun for sooooo many shenanigans

pairing: satoru gojo x fem!reader

warnings: au verse, gojo and reader are college professors, small mention of nsfw topics but nothing remotely explicit, looooootsa kissing

"Your movie is in theater five. Enjoy!" The teen attendant smiles, pointing your way to the left of the crossroad of the theaters.

Satoru grins and leads the way, practically dragging you down the hall. It takes all of your coordination skills just to stay on your feet as the overexuberance from Satoru threatens to remove your arm from its socket. "Why are you so eager?? This movie is supposed to be really bad!"

"You answered your own question." Satoru looks back at you for a wink and pretty smile, tugging you closer to his body as he urges you into the darkened theater that's already playing the previews. "You never have quite as much fun watching good movies as you do making fun of bad ones!"

Letting slip a quiet laugh, your earrings gently knock against your cheek as you shake your head at such an intention. It's not shocking, not one bit, to think Satoru would genuinely rather watch a terrible movie than any other, though roping you into it was something you foolishly didn't expect. It was meant to be an after work thing, nothing more than colleagues spending some time together outside the confines of the time clock, but with the way nobody else showed up and Satoru wasted not even a minute waiting for your other work friends, not to mention how touchy he’s being, the inkling that Satoru is up to something starts nagging a bit more.

The fact that you don't mind is awfully telling to both you and him.

Satoru quickly ushers you both to your seats, the theater so laughably empty that, even though you're a bit late, you can still get the absolute best seats in the house. He slips a few boxes of candy from his pockets, offering them up to you like cards. "Pick any! Except the Sour Patch Kids." Those long fingers swiftly pluck the box from your selection, and you laugh and take another.

"I appreciate you sneaking in candy, but I'm gonna go get a drink from-"

"I'll do it!! Keep my seat safe!" With that, Satoru is quite literally leaping across the rows of seats to the exit, and you can only stare in awe.

He's truly an idiot, and somehow the most decorated professor at the college you're both employed at. It's said by nearly every student he's had how they simultaneously regretted and did not regret taking his class. The curiosity alone makes you wish you could experience the teachings of Gojo Satoru for yourself, though knowing him on the other side of the desk is much more ideal.

It isn't long before your colleague returns, two large sodas in hand that have your brows practically rising to your hairline. “Jeez, Satoru, there's no way I could even dream of finishing this!”

“And these are the medium cups! I was this close to ordering large, just to see how much of my hand and forearm would fit.” He places his drink in the cupholder to his left as you set yours to the one on your right, the one between you left to house the little boxes of contraband he's snuck in. Satoru quickly swaps glasses, leaving the more tinted ones in their case as he opts for his regular frames, not that he plans to actually watch the movie— he's already seen this dumpster fire of a film, and it wasn't even fun to make fun of!

Your gaze flicks to the large screen, briefly wondering just how many previews for much better movies, and maybe much worse, you'll have to see before what you paid for starts to play. Satoru’s slender fingers brush your jaw, gently urging you to look back at him instead. His brilliantly bright blue eyes look at you in earnest, a little smile on his lips as he chews a gummy. “I'm glad you came to see this with me.”

“Of course, Satoru. Especially since the rest of the 'invitees' didn't show.” Your voice is dripping with suspicion, lips curving and a giggle following at the completely unabashed look on his face.

“Guess that cat's out of the bag. But come on! Can you imagine Nanami at the movie theater?! What a bore!”

Another laugh bubbles up despite your best efforts to stay somewhat hushed up. There are a few strays here, after all, and you'd hate to end up in someone's viral Twitter posting for being rude in a movie theater. “Satoru! Kento is a fine man; he can be more relaxed than you give him credit for.”

“Oh?” Satoru’s brow raises and he leans in closer, as if to whisper conspiracy in the dead of the night, his nose nearly tapping the tip of yours. “Have you and Nanami been spending extracurricular time together?”

“You do know we run the creative writing club together, don't you?”

“Literature nerds.” Satoru snorts, his breath fanning across your skin. “What kind of smutty, filthy things does he write, hmmm?”

“Gojo!” You scold, plucking his chest and just barely being able to keep your heart from pumping out of your chest with his awfully close proximity. Boundaries have always been a tad wavy with Satoru, personal space becoming less personal whenever he's around, but he's never quite… unabashedly close to your lips with his own.

“What?? Fine, fine. Keep his secrets! I’d rather hear about what you write anyway. That's the fun stuff.” Satoru leans in closer, his soft, pink lips a mere hair’s breadth from yours— half of an exhale and they'll be touching.

“Come to this Friday's meet then.” Your whisper isn't out of consideration for any other attendees of the movie, as the lights are drawn down and it's begun to play now. “We're doing poetry this week.”

“I can think of far better ways to spend a Friday night.” Satoru lowers his own voice to a murmur. “How about we have our own little meet, you and me?”

“Isn't that what this is?”

“What, you can't make a little more time for me?” Satoru pouts pathetically and you begin to suspect that he can cry on command after seeing how sad his eyes seem.

“I’m a busy woman, Satoru. You know the life of a college professor.” Your tongue darts out over your lips, tasting the vanilla cupcake flavored gloss you slid on tonight.

“So let's make the most of this time then.” Satoru's knuckle taps your chin up and then he's pressing his lips to yours. It's a gentle kiss, an ultimate test of your boundaries, but one he's confident will go his way. He notices the little things about you, the way you linger for him at the end of the day, just to walk to the parking lot together. You have his Starbucks order memorized, make him delicious sweets all the time and do plenty of other soft gestures that make his heart beat.

Warmth floods your face at Satoru's kiss— never in your life did you think things would get to this point between the two of you. All that time pining for him was surely wasted, wasn't it? You certainly could have made a move months ago, and he'd have received you eagerly. It's you that deepens the kiss, encouraging Satoru’s tongue to lick at your sweet lips and, little by little, remove the tasty gloss from your lips.

Satoru’s teeth gently dig into your lower lip, sucking it into his mouth for a moment, letting go soon after. The armrest between you is quickly flipped up, your poor candy boxes sent flying as Satoru moves in further, bracing a large hand on your back as he lays you back in the seat. A rumble echoes in his chest as your fingers find their place in his hair and gently thread through the white locks, spurring the professor’s kissing into something more frenzied, more desperate and with a tinge of neediness dabbled in too.

Your concept of time is muddied by the time Satoru pulls his lips back, your lip gloss smeared between both of your faces in a messy display of actions that you'd expect teenagers to do rather than adults past thirty. Satoru smiles down at you, eyes beautiful crescents to match the gorgeousness of his grin. “So you'll meet up with me again soon, right?”

Satoru can hardly register your snort before your arms are around his neck and pulling him down for more.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Satoru turns his head to the screen, his brows knitted as he witnesses a scene that certainly wasn't there when he actually watched this movie before. “We're in the wrong theater!”

It's a tad hard to explain to the manager on duty that there's been a mistake when the movie you were actually in was ten minutes from its end, but somehow Satoru manages to talk his way into a showing of the film you'd actually paid for, giving you just enough time to slather on some more lip gloss before Makeout Paradise 2: Electric Boogaloo.

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #jjk imagine #x reader #reader insert

[horangare]

my soft serve sweetheart

pairing : dokyeom x reader

content : fluff

in which : seokmin never hesitates to treat you to ice cream, so when a new place opens up right down the street, he already knows what you want

warnings : mentions of eating, one (1) kiss, dk loves u so much, kwan and hoshi work at the ice cream parlor

wc : 825 words

Soft serve ice cream was a gift from heaven. That much you were sure of.

Ever since you were a little girl, you had loved nothing more than the delicate taste of the sweet treat melting in your mouth, the sweetness meting against your tongue. True and utter euphoria.

Your love for soft serve never went away even as you got older. If anything, you only started to crave it more and more.

Your boyfriend found you and your obsession sweet tooth adorable.

Seokmin had treated you to soft serve on many occasions. All it took was you batting your eyelashes at him and saying, “Minnie, I want ice cream,” for him to be grabbing his keys and telling you to get in the car. He didn’t mind spoiling one bit, not when he saw how happy it made you every time you.

So when you heard that a new ice cream parlor was opening close to your apartment, (aka the best news you’ve ever received) you were wasting no time telling your boyfriend.

“Minnie, Minnie, guess what!” You found him lying on the couch scrolling through his phone, immediately looking up when you entered the room. “No, I’ll just tell you. There’s a new ice cream place and it’s close by!”

“Should I go get the keys, sweetheart?” He asked, already sitting himself upright. You nodded, a large grin on your face. Seokmin grabbed his keys off of the kitchen counter and met you at the door with a smile of his own.

“Let’s go.”

The drive to the parlor was only three minutes away, which made you happy for two reason; one, because you were eager to get there as soon as possible, and two, because that meant it would only be a little bit longer of a walk. You might come back tomorrow.

Seokmin pulled into the parking lot, barely even getting to put it in park before you were jumping out of the car and running into the shop.

When he joined you inside, you were already talking to Seungkwan and Soonyoung, who you were surprised to find out worked here.

“This little place is so cute! What would you recommend me the next time I come here?” You asked Soonyoung, Seungkwan being busy at the register ringing you up for your order.

“Hmm, the peach flavor isn’t so bad. But that’s just what Seungkwan says. I prefer chocolate.”

“What’d you order, sweetheart?” Seokmin asked, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your hair.

You turned your head to look at him, smiling. “Just vanilla.” He smiled back, knowing that it was your favorite and your go-to order. Soonyoung turned away, grabbing a cup and holding it underneath one of the various machines. You watched him eagerly, squealing quietly with excitement when he turned back and handed you the cup. You looked down at the small little contained labeled “spoons,” and grabbed two of them, then followed Seokmin to one of the cute round tables and sat down side by side.

“Here you go. I thought we could share,” you said, handing Seokmin one of the spoons. He took one of the spoons from your hands, scooping up a little bit of the ice cream and bringing it to your mouth. You opened your mouth and closed it around the spoon, sighing as the sweet flavor enveloped your taste buds and melted in your mouth.

“How is it?” Your boyfriend asked, taking note of your reaction. You hummed and nodded, already opening your mouth so he could feed you another spoonful. He chuckled, scooping a larger amount onto the spoon and bringing it to your mouth.

He continued to feed you the ice cream, even scooping up anything that was on the sides to feed to you until the cup was empty. Now you were wished you had gotten a large instead of a medium.

“Oh no, did I eat it all?” You asked, a bit sadly. Seokmin nodded, placing the spoon into the empty cup. “No, baby, we were supposed to share.”

“Oh…” He mumbled, looking down at his lap. Then he gasped, and you knew that meant he had an idea. “Kiss me.”

“What?” You asked, and Seokmin looked down again, getting a little bit shy.

“Sorry, nevermind. I’ll just get—” He stared to say, but you silenced him quickly, pressing your lips to his and sliding your tongue into his mouth before he could react. He whined softly into your mouth, obviously shocked, but kissed you back, cupping your face with his hands. You went a step further, sucking on his tongue a few times before pulling away to catch your breath.

“Was it good?” You asked him, and he nodded, still a bit dazed. Smiling, you patted him on the thigh and fished the keys from the pocket of his jacket. “Great. Let’s come back tomorrow! Soonyoung made that chocolate sound pretty convincing.”

#seventeen #seventeen drabbles #svt #svt dk #svt imagines #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #svt dk x reader #svt dokyeom #seventeen dk #seventeen dokyeom #lee dokyeom #lee seokmin #dokyeom fluff #svt fluff #dk fluff

[yetanotherfreakingfoodblog]

Chicken Paprikash

I continue to enjoy cooking chicken. I thought I had made some good chicken before (on this very blog!!!), but then 2023 came along. My friend gifted me some Hungarian paprika from her travels, so one day earlier this year I decided to make chicken paprikash...and it was a huge hit. The people I made it for were delighted. My partner: "top 5 chickens I've had in my life." My friend: "the ultimate comfort food, reminds me of my grandma." My other friend: "when are we having that again?" You get the idea.

I used this NYT Cooking recipe, mostly. The best thing about this recipe is the comments. I am not Hungarian. I thank the Hungarians for introducing the world to chicken paprikash. I loved having chicken paprikash when I was there in 2008, and I love the comments on this recipe. They are largely an argument over whether this is "really chicken paprikash" or not. One helpful comment says "this is a very bad recipe and not just for Hungarians."

I leave judgment of the recipe up to the reader. All I have to say is that I made this dish, mostly following the recipe, and we loved it. Was it Hungarian? Probably not, as I am just a lady who made this in California for friends from all around. But was it delicious? It absolutely was, and I'll be making it many times over.

I skip the egg noodles and do dumplings instead, more on that in a moment.

Saucy Chicken

Ingredients

6-7 bone-in skin-on chicken thighs

1 tablespoon avocado oil

3 tablespoons unsalted butter

1 large onion (peeled & diced)

3 cloves garlic (peeled & minced) (I *still* hate working with fresh garlic, I tend to use pre-minced freeze dried garlic in stuff like this which overjoys me. Don't tell my purist friends).

3 tablespoons Hungarian paprika, sweet or hot or a combination -- I love this with hot paprika. I made this so many times that I ran out of the hot paprika my friend got me though, so I also ran through the sweet, which was also wonderful. When I ran out of hot paprika, I started adding about 1/2 tsp cayenne pepper to the 3 tbsp sweet paprika to get more heat. I thought 1/2 tsp was a small kick, I might go up to 1 tsp for a spicier dish.

3 tablespoons flour

14oz canned crushed tomatoes (the recipe calls for "1 cup" but I just put the whole 14oz can in and it's great).

1 cup vegetable broth (I only keep Better than Bouillon veggie broth around, I'm not really a broth purist so I default to veggie broth and this one is a good one. The recipe calls for chicken broth).

3/4 cup plain yogurt (the recipe calls for sour cream, but I always have yogurt around and rarely have sour cream. Recommend using a thicker yogurt, I like Strauss Greek. I also think this recipe is totally fine with less yogurt than 3/4 cup).

Dumpling ingredients

6 eggs

1.5 cups flour

a little salt

more vegetable broth

Recipe

Preheat oven to 400. Season chicken "aggressively" with salt & pepper.

Heat 1tbsp avocado oil and 1 tbsp butter in a large Dutch oven on high. Sear the chicken in batches, skin-side down, until golden & crisp, 8-10 min. Turn the chicken over and sear the non-skin side for ~7 minutes. Remove to a plate to rest.

Return pot to stove. Add onion to the schmaltz in the pot. Cook, stirring & scraping frequently, for ~5 min.

Add garlic, stir again, cook til softened (~3-4 min)

Add paprika & flour, stir well to combine. Cook until fragrant and the taste of flour has been cooked out, 4-5 min. (It will be dry, it's ok, toasty toasty!)

Add tomatoes and broth. Stir together, then nestle the chicken back in skin side up. Slide the pot into the oven (uncovered!) and bake for 25-30 min, until chicken is cooked to 165 and sauce is a bit thicker.

While the chicken bakes, make dumplings! Bring ~4 cups veggie broth to a boil in a medium saucepan. Whisk together the eggs, flour, and salt. I use a 1 tablespoon cookie scoop (filled halfway) to drop dumpling batter into the boiling broth. (I wish I had a smaller scoop, my dumplings usually turn out on the larger side, but they're really unfussy and supposed to be rustic. You can also use your hands and a regular spoon!). They're done when they're floating, or a bit after. Use a slotted spoon to bring them out. You might need to do this in batches.

Take the chicken pot out of the oven. Remove the chicken to a plate with tongs, then stir the yogurt into the sauce. Put the chicken back into the pot. Serve chicken over the dumplings!

[bibicoffee-com]

[Top 10] Best Dark Roast Coffee: Which One Is For You?

Best Dark Roast Coffee Dark-roast coffee has a somewhat bitter taste but is not sour. It can awaken all your senses with a rich flavor that overwhelms any light-roast coffee. However, not all dark coffee has a rich and attractive flavor. Are you looking for a bold morning drink? Or want something more awake, focused, and powerful? Check out the suggestions below. I spent time experimenting and found the 10 best dark roast coffee that you should consider in this article. Our Top Picks: Best Dark Roast Coffee- Don Pablo Gourmet Coffee - Best for Overall - Mayorga Dark Roast Coffee - Best for Home Dark Roast Coffee - AmazonFresh Dark Bean Coffee - Best for Cold Brew Dark Roast Coffee - Community Coffee Blend Ground Coffee - Best for Various Concoctions - Death Wish Coffee Dark Roast Grounds - Best for Stomach - Koffee Kult Dark Roast Whole Coffee Beans - Best for French Press - Olde Brooklyn coffee Dark Roast Whole Bean - Best for Budget - Starbucks Dark Roast Ground Coffee - Best for Daily Use - Victor Allen's Coffee French Roast - Best for K-Cup Keurig 2.0 Brewers - Solimo Dark Roast Coffee Pods - Best for Arabica Dark Roast Coffee Best Dark Roast Coffee Review Although the same dark roast coffee, each manufacturer has different methods. So, the final dark roast coffees which you receive will have different aromas. Consider your personal preferences and read the reviews below, and you will soon find the best dark roast coffee. Scroll down for more! #1. Don Pablo Gourmet Coffee - Best for OverallImportant Specifications - Weight: 2 Pounds. - Form: Whole bean. - Flavor: Whole bean coffee.Buy on Amazon Product Highlights Don Pablo Gourmet is the full-flavored choice of deep-roasted coffee. It is a blend of Arabica dark roast coffee from Colombia, Guatemala, and Brazil. This unique combination gives it a distinctively rich flavor. When I first tasted it, I noticed the sweet taste. Its aftertaste is characteristically bitter, which lovers of dark-roasted coffee always look for. Don Pablo is also one of the few dark roasts with optimal freshness. Before shipping, the producer manually roasts the Arabica dark roast coffee in small batches. Thus, these cups are always fresher than any regular instant coffee. In short, Don Pablo Gourmet is the ideal choice if you love roasted coffee but still retain the natural flavor and sweet aftertaste. The only downside is that it requires complicated preparation. You should use cold water for your brew to get delicious light roast coffees. I had to let the water cool longer than when making a regular medium roast. And everything is perfect only when your light roast coffee has a characteristic caramel, chocolate, and bitter taste. Today's Best Deals: View on Amazon What We Like - Sweet aftertaste. - The full flavor of dark-roast coffee. - Suitable for dark roast coffee lovers. - Unique caramel and dark chocolate aroma. - Combining Arabica coffee from three different lands - The complex concoction #2. Mayorga Dark Roast Coffee - Best for Home CoffeeImportant Specifications - Weight: 2 Pounds. - Form: Whole bean. - Flavor: Coffee Cubano roast.Buy on Amazon Product Highlights Compared to pre-ground coffee, I prefer to use whole beans. Blending at home gives me a smooth, fresh, and flavorful dark roast blend. Mayorga Dark Roast Coffee is my top choice when making my coffee at home. Mayorga offers signature Latin slow-roasted Arabica coffee. Instead of a large-scale production process, Mayorga applies a manual slow-roasting method, processing the coffee in small batches. So, the finished product that reaches the user has the highest quality taste. Its coffee beans are dark, smooth, and unblemished with impurities. During brewing, I get coffees with a sweeter vanilla flavor and smoother aftertaste than many of the coffees I've had before. In addition to the unique taste, I also love Mayorga Dark Roast Coffee because of its low acidity. It is the ideal advantage for those who love coffee but have sensitive stomachs. Overall, I am satisfied with Mayorga Dark Roast Coffee. It has a mild bitterness, even slightly less bitter than some organic coffees I've used. There may be better choices if you are looking for solid coffees with a distinctively bitter taste. Today's Best Deals: View on Amazon What We Like - Sweet vanilla scent. - Bold aftertaste. - Smooth and fresh flavor. - Not mixed with impurities. - Low acidity with sensitive stomachs. - Less bitter than some other organic dark roast coffees. #3. AmazonFresh Whole Bean Coffee - Best for Cold Brew CoffeeImportant Specifications - Weight: 32 Ounces. - Form: Whole bean. - Flavor: The bold, dark roast.Buy on Amazon Product Highlights I own quite a few coffee-making supplies, from grinders to espresso machines. However, I am particularly interested in cold brewing, which requires complex ingredient standards. And AmazonFresh Dark Roast Whole Bean Coffee is the name I always choose if I need to enjoy a cold brew coffee. This whole-bean coffee is relatively fresh. It is packed almost immediately after roasting, free of impurities. Its taste is natural, intact, and rich. Even the most discerning people will discover the dark chocolate flavor in coffee. Thanks to this ingredient, its flavor is intense to satisfy the user. The manufacturer says this product can make espresso or flavorful coffee. Yet, I only recommend you use this coffee to make cold drinks because it is pretty bitter. If prepared in the usual way, AmazonFresh Dark Roast Whole Bean Coffee will not be a drink that can conquer many users. To overcome this drawback, you can mix AmazonFresh with lighter roasted coffees in addition to cold brewing. I picked it up from the cart to make cold-brew coffee. And amazingly, it quickly thickens with a richer flavor. A small note is that you should refrain from re-roasting these beans. Its taste will be more bitter and unbalanced in hot water. Today's Best Deals: View on Amazon What We Like - Rich and natural flavor. - Carefully packed with a fresh taste. - It has a little dark chocolate flavor. - Ideal for cold brewing dark roasts. - High-quality ingredients without impurities. - The bitter taste is not suitable for all users. #4. Community Coffee Ground Coffee - Best for Various ConcoctionsImportant Specifications - Weight: 32 Ounces. - Form: Ground. - Flavor: Signature dark roast.Buy on Amazon Product Highlights With their distinctive bitterness and texture, dark roast coffee beans are often unsuitable for too many brews. Some coffee beans are not even suitable for use with automatic dispensers. However, Community Signature Blend Ground Coffee is an exception. This product is medium roast coffee. It's compatible with many coffee makers, including my French coffee maker. I also regularly use Community Coffee to make hot, iced, and cold coffee beans. But Community Coffee is more than simply choosing to be compatible with different equipment and brewing methods. This one deserves to appear on the best dark roast coffee beans list because of its original bold flavor. Its taste and scent are also relatively uniform. There is almost no difference in the smell and texture of each coffee bag. The only thing the manufacturer can do better is its strong taste. I refilled my filter several times to get the desired intensity and flavor. Today's Best Deals: View on Amazon What We Like - Rich dark chocolate flavor. - Suitable for a variety of recipes. - High-quality Arabica coffee beans. - The dark roasts do not affect the brewing equipment. - Consistent flavor and odor between production batches. - Need a bit more strength. #5. Death Wish Coffee Dark Roast Grounds - Best for StomachImportant Specifications - Weight: 16 Oz. - Form: Ground. - Flavor: Dark roast.Buy on Amazon Product Highlights You regularly drink dark-roasted coffee beans daily, but their acid affects your sensitive stomach. Death Wish Coffee Dark Roast Grounds will be the right choice for a balance of taste and health that you should consider. This coffee is quite strong and therefore has slight acidity. The slow roasting process in batches ensures that the dark roasts are not bitter and burnt, minimizing the acid in the grounds and making the coffee more friendly to people with sensitive stomachs. I especially appreciate its rich and robust flavor. These dark and intense dark roasted coffee beans are strong enough to awaken all my senses early in the morning. It even helps me stay energized and ready to be creative at any time. Death Wish Coffee Dark Roast Grounds has a good taste and is stomach-friendly. It is coarsely ground coffee, so you can use it in a drip coffee maker. To avoid clogging the coffee machine, you should grind it finer several times. Today's Best Deals: View on Amazon What We Like - Low acidity and is suitable for the stomach. - Novelty dark chocolate and dark cherry flavors. - Ideal for use early in the morning or when distracted. - Premium arabica and dark robusta roast coffee beans combination. - Need to grind finer before putting into drip dark roasts coffee machine. #6. Koffee Kult Dark Coffee Beans - Best for French PressImportant Specifications - Weight: 32oz. - Form: Whole bean. - Flavor: Chocolate Caramel.Buy on Amazon Product Highlights I usually choose Koffee Kult Dark Roast Whole Coffee Beans whenever I make coffee with French Press and espresso beans. Moderately dark-roasted coffee beans are handled quite well by Koffee Kult. It is a great ingredient to prepare by filtering, soaking, and enjoying the full flavor. Unlike the names I introduced earlier, Koffee Kult has fine whole coffee beans. It's not too bitter. Instead, it has a rich flavor with a long aftertaste. If you like dark-roast coffee, Koffee Kult is worth a try. Combining Colombian, Guatemalan Brazilian, and Sumatra ingredients and profound Arabic roasting results in the strong coffee I've always wanted. The only minus point is that its scent could be more specific. I understand the manufacturer intentionally does not use flavoring with the desire to provide the purest product. However, this inadvertently made my dark roasts have a less attractive scent. Today's Best Deals: View on Amazon What We Like - Rich flavor - Not too bitter. - Long aftertaste. - Fine hole coffee beans. - Ideal for use with French Press. - Long-lasting unattractive scent. #7. Olde Brooklyn Coffee Whole Bean - Best for BudgetImportant Specifications - Weight: 5 Pounds. - Form: Whole bean. - Flavor: Breakfast dark roast blend.Buy on Amazon Product Highlights Enjoying drinking coffee every day costs me a lot of money. That's what I thought until I found Olde Brooklyn coffee, dark roast coffee beans that are reasonably priced but still hold up excellent quality. The 5 lbs bag includes dark roast coffee beans. These coffee beans come to my hand, always fresh and fragrant. Even the most demanding people must be satisfied with a product whose quality is quite strictly controlled. Another thing I love about dark Italian roast is that it offers a wide range of roasts, including dark Italian roast, bold Brazilian roast, and mixed roast. With Olde Brooklyn, I usually start my mornings with a cup of pure dark roast beans, drink espresso at noon, and make a drip every weekend night. The wide selection helps me discover many delicious dark roast coffee beans in the most budget-friendly way. I am satisfied with Olde Brooklyn's pure coffee. My only complaint is its oiliness and lack of flavor. Today's Best Deals: View on Amazon What We Like - Save budget. - Fresh and fragrant. - Standard quality. - The excellent whole bean. - Comes with a variety of roast coffee beans - No unique taste. #8. Starbucks Dark Roast Ground Coffee - Best for Daily UseImportant Specifications - Weight: 12 oz. - Form: Ground. - Flavor: Dark roast variety pack.Buy on Amazon Product Highlights Are you a big fan of Starbucks coffee and want to be able to make these delicious drinks at home? Starbucks Dark Roast Ground Coffee is the solution for you. Starbucks has selected 100% Arabica coffee. Careful handling and processing have resulted in Starbucks coffee's uniformity in aroma, strength, and acidity. The packaged coffee is of the same quality as Starbucks' coffee ingredients. I also appreciate its high applicability. I experimented with different brewing methods, including drip, overflow, and Moka pots. All of them yielded the desired results. If you love dark roast beans at Starbucks, you will love the unique flavor of this product: not too bitter, solid, and rich. It lacks a bit of necessary mellowness. However, Starbucks coffee beans are still a worthy choice with their affordable price and convenient preparation. Even though I've tried a lot of dark-roasted coffee beans, I still have to return to Starbucks Sumatra for its natural flavor. As a traditional coffee lover, I grind the beans by hand and use a drip machine to handle their powder most efficiently. Sumatra is perfect for you to drink this way in winter. Today's Best Deals: View on Amazon What We Like - Suitable for the budget. - The taste is not too bitter. - Easy to prepare at home. - Coffee beans are under a strict process. - Available with many different mixes. - Hard beans #9. Victor Allen's French Roast - Best for K-Cup Keurig 2.0 BrewersImportant Specifications - Weight: 0.38 Ounces. - Form: Pod. - Flavor: French roast.Buy on Amazon Product Highlights Like other dark roast lovers, I have tested many different brands. And Victor Allen's Coffee has been one of my favorite products recently. Victor Allen's roasted coffee beans differ from many market options. The manufacturer's roasting process is precise to perfection. And the result is an authentic French-roasted taste. Right at first taste, I was surprised by the rich bean dark roast coffee flavors and characteristic aroma. Its aftertaste is also unique when it is not too bitter, suitable for many users. These dark roast coffee beans also work well with the K-Cup Keurig coffee machine. Thanks to this outstanding advantage, I can make my favorite drinks quickly and conveniently. Today's Best Deals: View on Amazon What We Like - Rich flavor - Characteristic fragrance. - The aftertaste is not too bitter. - Suitable for different tastes. - Compatible with K-Cup Keurig coffee machines. - The coffee can clog the machine. #10. Solimo Dark Roast Coffee Pods - Best for Arabica CoffeeImportant Specifications - Weight: 1.56 Pounds. - Form: Keurig 2.0. - Flavor: French roast.Buy on Amazon Product Highlights Coffee Arabica has a sour taste mixed with bitterness. It also has a light roast aroma, which is very close to the fruit and the honey smell. Overall, these coffee beans will give you a feeling of refreshment and richness right from the first try. If you love the above characteristics of Arabica coffee, you cannot ignore Solimo Dark Roast Coffee Pods. This coffee is in certain pods. I quickly had hot and decadent coffee cups combined with the 1.0 or 2.0 K-Cup coffee maker. I usually use Solimo Dark Roast early in the morning. Delicious taste, aroma, and fresh ingredients make a great cup of hot coffee in the morning before work. Today's Best Deals: View on Amazon What We Like - Many flavor options. - It has the typical taste of Arabica coffee - Suitable for people who are always on the go. - Compatible with 1.0, 2.0 K-Cup coffee machines. - Need to change the filter design. Best Dark Roast Coffee Beans: Buying Guides Buying guide Best Dark Roast Coffee After searching for dark-roast coffee, I have gained some selection experience. You can refer to the criteria below to make it easier to find your favorite coffee. Freshness Coffee will change flavor depending on the distance from harvest to roasting. With dark-roast coffee, you should choose fresh products. Its flavor will be the most total and most intense. However, sometimes old coffee has a distinctive taste, especially after removing carbon dioxide and other unwanted substances. Source I always encourage you to opt for single-origin coffee. These products will have a distinctive flavor. You will also find it easy to trace your coffee. You can also find mixed coffee. The unique combination of many different coffees can provide an impressive drinking experience. Shape Quite a few people judge the coffee quality by the amount of oil inside or the cracks in the coffee bean. However, the oil on the surface does not accurately reflect the coffee bean's freshness and quality. Meanwhile, you can rely on the cracks in the beans to identify dark-roasted beans. Light roast coffee will show small cracks at 385°F. When the temperature goes up to more than 435°F, a second crack will appear. Smell Dark-roasted coffee does not have a distinctive flavor. If you are used to enjoying drinks with a pleasant floral aroma, there are better choices than dark roasting. Yet, you can combine chocolate with coffee to get rich drinks and a mellow feeling. FAQs Why is dark roast coffee healthier?Dark-roasted coffee has a strong flavor and bitter aftertaste. Whether enjoyed alone or paired with chocolate or milk, this green coffee bean delivers an unforgettable taste.Dark-roasted coffee is also relatively healthy. It helps users stay awake and relaxed while providing a hefty dose of antioxidants.Even in the American diet, this lighter roast coffee bean is the best antioxidant, which fights free radicals that cause cell damage and have been available to cancer.What is the darkest robust coffee? Devil Mountain Coffee is always on the list of the most robust coffee in the world. According to the manufacturer's claims, each cup contains 1,555 mg of caffeine, which is three times the FDA's adult daily recommendation. What dark roast does Starbucks use? Starbucks offers a variety of dark roasted coffees such as Sumatra, French Roast, Italian Roast, and Espresso Roast. The dark roast flavors at Starbucks are a blend of coffees from the Americas and Asia - Pacific. What is the number 1 coffee in the world? Starbucks is the coffee brand with the highest coverage and revenue globally. This coffee bean retailer has stores in over 80 countries and territories, earning more than 23.52 billion USD annually. What is the top 5 best coffee? The most experimental coffee bean brands include La Colombe, Cafe Bustelo, The Organic Coffee Co, and Peet's Decaf Major Dickason's Blend. Conclusion I highly recommend Don Pablo Gourmet because it has all the advantages I look for in a dark roasted coffee: rich flavor, attractive aroma, and reasonable price. I will suggest Death Wish Coffee for those with sensitive stomachs due to its low acidity. Meanwhile, Mayorga is a great choice for making daily coffee at home. You should rely on the reviews and selection guides in the article to choose a strong roasted coffee that suits your taste. I hope you find your best dark roast coffee soon and have a great time with your favorite drink. Thanks for taking the time to follow us! Read the full article

[chiwhorei]

pollock

paring: art major!k. tsukishima x fem!reader

genre: a dash of angst, hurt/comfort, smut, 18+ minors dni

wordcount: 3.2k

warnings: dom/sub dynamics, fingering, spitting, dacryphilia, praise, daddy kink, breeding kink, impregnating kink, soft and kinda hard dom!tsukki, sub!reader

a/n: ahhhhh!! this is my first longer fic to come out in a while and i am ~so~ excited to share this with everyone. i have been keening over the idea of art!major tsukki and i hope you all like him as much as i do! this is piece is brought to you by the hqhq monthly server collab, so please go check out everyone’s amazing writing, the masterlist can be found here!

hymn: validation by herrick & hooley, cherry hill by russ

“Your work is always technically very well executed, Tsukishima-san.” The round, bald-headed man shuffles through the photos on his desk, pieces of Tsukishima Kei’s senior project that he’s tried to fit together before his final exhibit only four months away.

“But,” the dreaded word has Tsukki restraining himself from a long eye roll, “It seems like you’re stuck. You still need one more piece for the show. What inspires you?”

You hear a resounding slam of the front door swinging open and meeting the frame again, followed by a shuffle of feet towards where you’re standing in the kitchen of your shared apartment. Tsukki’s mouth is set in a flat line, expression softening only slightly when he sees you leaning against the counter. You greet him with a warm, but cautious smile. It had been a horribly long day, grating on every thread of patience Tsukishima has. The bubbling of anxiety and frustration mixing into a sour look on his handsome face. You hate seeing your boyfriend so defeatus, much preferring the sardonic, confident air he usually holds. Both of your final years of college have been exceptionally taxing, Tsukki’s final art project being the most stressing of all. It seems like as days propel forward, closer to his due date, the less assured he is of his talents, his passions. It’s heartbreaking to see someone so brilliant struggle through a million half fleshed-out ideas and crumbled up leaves of paper.

You pull one of his hands to you, examining the stains of paint and ink across his long digits and kissing each finger softly. You wish you could get inside that big head of his and help in some way.

“Did you have a hard day at the studio, Kei?” You wrap your arms around his neck and search his eyes. He’s not always the best at talking to you, especially when he’s upset, so you don’t expect him to give you an answer. Instead, you rub his shoulders, trying to coax the tension out. He sighs deeply at the contact, hands moving to rest at the plush of your hips and gripping tightly when you work at a particularly sore spot.

“You’re too good to me, princess. Thank you” He leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, and you nuzzle into him. You don’t have the answers to his current road block, you don’t pretend to. But maybe, you think, you can offer him a more carnal outlet.

“Of course, Daddy.” The name hangs in the air for a moment, any response hitching in his throat. The title is familiar after years of being together, always being both comforting and electrifying. Since the title slipped out years ago for the first time, your boyfriend feels his cool demeanor snapping like a glow stick, leaving hot lust in its wake upon it rolling past your lips.

He pulls you closed to him by your ass, inhaling sharply at the contact on his jeans. All you have on is one of Tsukki’s loose, paint stained sweaters and a thin pair of cotton panties. You brush one of your bare thighs against his crotch, and he feels the stresses of his day falling out of frame. Your body is always a buoy to pull him back from the drowning of self doubt. A perfect slice of heaven he became addicted to from the moment he spotted you across the dusty stacks.

“What inspires you?”

The question rings in his head again, but with a new perspective. Tsukki hears pieces clicking together with your lustrous body pressed against him.

“Babygirl, I think I have an idea. But I’m going to need your help.” His hands move to cup your cheeks, scanning over your features and finding a devious glint behind your soft, e/c eyes. Tsukki trails a thumb over your bottom lip lightly, admiring how you lean into the contact. Always so eager to please him, your temperament goes straight to his cock every time.

“Anything for you, daddy.” You press your forehead against his, waiting patiently for his next move. There’s astounding beauty in the glossy, temperate look in your eyes that he wants to, has to, to freeze in time.

“I have a few things to set up. Come to the office when I call you,” Tsukki pushes a stray hair from your face with a fond smile before walking away, he stops for a moment to look at you over his shoulder, “Naked.”

Your mind races as to what exactly he wants to do with you tonight as you busy yourself with peeling off your clothing. There is very little that you and your boyfriend haven’t tried at least once, but the tone in his voice has left you reeling at the possibilities.

Your eyes catch your reflection in the hallway mirror, naked body completely exposed to your own scrutinizing stare. Had it been the stress causing the image in front of you to be so unsavory? Every plane of skin promoting a different insecurity. A blasted thing a hallway mirror becomes when you’ve never truly loved what stares back. You fuss with your hair in a feeble attempt to make yourself more presentable. The question of how Tsukishima sees you always rattling around in the back of your head, especially standing completely naked and waiting in your own insecurities.

“Princess, come here.” You are pulled from your deprecating thoughts at the sound of Tsukki’s warm voice. You walk into his office, and notice he’s changed into just a pair of grey joggers. The sight of the low hanging garment making you salivate so much you almost miss your surroundings. He’s struck some kind of inspiration, you can see it in his eyes as he adjusts his easel and props up a large, blank canvas. You fiddle with your fingers as he looks up at you.

“Jackson Pollock.” You meet your boyfriend’s eyes, confused by his seemingly random statement as he parses out different colored paints into small bowls. Red, blue, green, yellow. “He poured paint on a flat surface so that he could view every angle color could create, every curve.” Tsukki muses, dipping two fingers into the bright yellow hue sitting next to him, bringing them towards his face with contemplation. “But I think this sweet little body of yours will prove a much better canvas.”

His eyes provide no sign of bluffing, but you stare back at him dumbly. Sure, he’s used you as a muse before. Studying your hands or the way your hair falls in the sketches you see hanging up by his desk behind you. You love when he wants to use your body for inspiration, but is he really going to cover you in paint?

“We both know you don’t mind getting a little messy,” He trails his wet pointer finger across your collarbone, following a line towards your chin. He tilts your head up to meet his eyes, “Open your mouth.”

Your bottom lip parts from the top, eyes following the line of spit that drops from his mouth to your tongue with a resounding put.

You swallow thickly, the feeling of his control already bending your will to meet him at every pass.

“I want you to look nice and fucked out for me, baby. I want to show my stuffy professors where my inspiration comes from. I’m going to capture how sweet and submissive my little princess is and then everyone will get to see what I get to enjoy every night.” His unmarred hand moves towards your already disastrously wet pussy. You’re drooling at even the most slight contact, bucking into his hand in a plea for more. His words, complimentative but unmistakingly domineering, have your head becoming fuzzy.

“Daddy, please. Please touch me.” Your whines are music to his ears.

“Oh princess, I plan on it. But I need you to be good for me. You don’t want to mess up all my hard work do you?” His voice is steady, authoritative but still soft around the edges in a way that makes you feel gooey.

Tsukki leads you to the stool sitting in the middle of the room, and you perch on it with his hands keeping you steady. You are his muse and medium, his subject and his canvas to use in any way desired.

Smudges of color brandish every inch of your skin, each stroke is a reminder of where your lovers hands have been. Blue and pink splatter against your stomach, a vibrant red outline on each curve of your breast and purple fingerprints against your pert nipples. Your legs wear a trail of hand prints towards your glistening cunt, wanton cunt. Each marring of paint sits beside paths of hot, opened mouth kisses.

All that is keeping you balanced on the squeaky wooden stool is Tsukishima’s strong arms holding you captive in place. Your legs had been thrown over his shoulders after painting across your upper thighs in a sea of greys and greens. As soon as Tsukki’s eyes met with your bare cunt, his mouth was quick to follow.

He’s a mess of paint now too, muscular chest and arms covered in pigment and face covered in you. He’s always insatiable, drinking you in like it’s the only source of sustenance left in the world. He knows how to work you, how to propel you towards orgasm in a way no one else has ever been able to do. Worshiping your body with langued strokes of his tongue. You let out a pitchy moan in response to his mouth, pushing you towards an end you can feel in the back of your throat.

“I bet you want to cum don’t you, baby? I can feel it. Such an eager little thing.” Tsukishima ghosts his lips across your hot cunt, blowing at your clit to make you yelp. You’re so close, too close. Dangling above bliss but not tipping over, knowing you need permission. You’ve been so good for him, he has to give you your release.

“Please, daddy. Please let me cum.” Tears wet your cheeks as you beg, holding onto Tsukki’s blond locks like an anchor. All you need is his approval, but instead of persimmon you are met with a bawdy laugh.

You really should have known he wasn’t going to let you go that easy.

Tsukki stands up, wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand. You’re wrecked in every way. Hair loose and disheveled, body dipped in a thin layer of sweat and thick splotches of paint. The look on your face is equal parts pathetic and fervent.

“I need you to sit pretty for daddy, I want to capture how desperately beautiful you look right now.” His words make you preen, but it’s a compliment and a warning at the same time. He wants to capture the look of sweet pain of denied orgasm to display at an art exhibit of both peers and his seniors. Sadistic in Tsukishima’s own unique way.

You should have known better, Tsukki’s patience has always been astounding. You know all he wants to do is bury himself in you, but he wants even more to make you suffer under his stare. There’s plenty of times he unleashes his frustration out on you physically, ripening your ass cheeks in bright red handprints and ensuring you can’t walk in the morning. But it’s these moments that can be even harsher, when he regards you with steely eyes and a aloof threat, that make your nerves catch fire more than a spanking ever could.

He sits down to start sketching on the large canvas in front of him, pinning you to your position with a practiced glare and playing on your desire to please him.

You sit as still as you can, listening to the scratch of pencil on vinyl in an attempt to keep calm. Your cunt is still twitching, puffy and slick propped uncomfortably atop the wooden stool. Tsukki hums along to the rhythmic music coming from his phone speaker, a playlist you know to be the one that helps him concentrate on his work. His brow furrows in concentration, pushing his glasses back in place as he stares at you again. His eyes are calculating and coldly observant, but his mouth quirks up in a surprising smile.

“My perfect baby. So stunning in every way.” His thoughts start tumbling out without his usual sarcastic filter.

“I have never wanted something more in my life than you. All of you, all the time.” A genuine regard for you in the lilt of his voice clamps down on your chest. He’s called you pretty, told you he loved you a million times before, but there’s a calm resonance in his words as his hands move across the white caves in front of him that catches in your throat. With the pressure of graduation looming over the two of you these past few months, romantics have been pushed to the side to make room for laser focus on finishing your degrees.

Your eyes well at his confessional, struck by the vulnerability so unfamiliar to him. You missed this side of your boyfriend, unlocking it incrementally through the years and finding it virtually non-existent recently. He sees your shoulders trembling slightly and tears his eyes up to your form.

“I told you to stay still.” His voice comes out harsh, but melts away when he sees fat tears rolling down your puffy cheeks.

“Y/n, are you okay? Did I upset you?” He moves to console you, the action causing another round of sobs, your body on edge in every way after both the teasing and his impromptu affirmation. Your response surprises yourself just as much as Tsukki, not realising how starved of his affection you had become.

“I’m sorry daddy, I-I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I just- do you mean all that?” You lower your head in embarrassment, and Tsukishima’s heart breaks at the realization. Had he unintentionally disregarded you? Had he been ignoring you?

“Fuck baby, of course I mean it. I’m so sorry I made you doubt that.” He pulls you up into his strong hold, he lets you cry into his shoulder until your wracking sobs simmer to sniffles. He holds you tightly in an attempt at atonement. He has to do something to show you how he feels now that he knows his words have failed him. His actions have to speak in his place.

Tsukishima pulls you away slightly to meet his gaze before colliding his lips against yours. He traces his tongue in sonnets across your mouth, tasting the lingering essence of your arousal and the salt of your tears. He writes prose in the breathy gasps as you part for air, chests heaving. He has to show you what his words won’t always allow him to.

It’s bodies tangled together, covered in the colors of a man trying his best to show you how much he loves you. You had fallen to the floor at the behest of passion, Tsukki’s body covering yours, lips kissing any extension of your skin, uncaring of the paint covering both of your writhing frames.

You paw at his sweatpants as if they are the most offensive thing you’ve ever scene, Tsukki’s cock springs out to slap against the hard muscle of his abdomen. You don’t waste any time lining him up to your dripping folds, you’ve waited long enough. Hips crashing together like a fever dream, you’re wrapped in each other as if there’s nothing else in this world outside of a set of paints and four walls of a dimly lit apartment. The sun could be hurling towards the sidewalk just outside and Tsukishima, usually observant to a fault, would have no idea. All he knows is your body beneath him, clawing desperately at his back with every deep thrust, and the love poem he has written on your body. Reds across your breasts and brandishing your thighs. Greens and yellows across your neck, up your arms. Messy, sticky, covering the thin sheet Tsukki laid out to spare the hardwood.

Your panting, crying out for your daddy and consumed in the salty taste of love and lust crashing together like waves. His cock is heavy inside you, filling you up so completely. Tsukki rowes on, not daring to stop now, not with the resounding drumming of two hearts beat so perfectly together and the feeling of your clenching, velveteen walls hugging him like he’s coming home.

“I am so desperately in love with you. I want you like this, with me, forever.” He’s delirious, drunk on your body. Primal, as he stares down at you, colorful and completely conquered. He sees everything in your eyes, every baser desire, every hope for the future.

“I want to fill you up with my cum, princess. You are mine in every way. God, I want to see you swollen with my baby. Right here.” He presses against your belly, feeling his cock moving inside you from the splotches of pick and blue.

His confessional spurs you on, the emotions overwhelming. Feeling so loved, so needy, wanting everything the blonde above you is willing to give.

“Ah, Daddy! Please, please fill me up. I wa-want you to put a baby in me, I need it.” Your clenching tightly, each pump of Tsukishima’s cock better than the last.

“You are such a good girl baby, always saying exactly what I need to hear. Cum for me, princess, let me see how good I make you feel.”

His warrant is all you’ve needed this whole time, snapping to hours of tension with a sharp cry. You’re thrown into the pooling, honey-sweet feeling of release. Sinking every inch of your aching body into a blissed haze. Your walls spasm violently, tightening around him like a vice. He meets your hips with his own, knocking hip bones together like pool balls and holding himself in your heat as you milk his throbbing cock, stealing every drop of hot, while cum he has to offer.

He crumbles to the floor beside you, pulling you to his chest. Lying in a mess of paint and sweat and staggered breathing. Through the fog still resounding in your head, you hear Tsukki laughing lightly, “How’s that for inspiration?”

-Four Months Later-

You shift on your toes in anticipation, waiting for Tsukishima to release the hold he has around your eyes. You hear the bustle of people around you, the laughter and tinkling of glasses clinking together filling your ears. He kisses your temple before letting go, and you are met with a new reflection of yourself hung proudly on display. All of the places you see blemishes are drawn with vibrant purposeful color. Every curve of your form mapped out with the care only a lover could administer. Your naked form exhibited for hundreds of critiquing eyes, but there’s not a bone in your body that could feel embarrassed in this moment. As reflection so beautiful it’s unbelievable is staring back at you.

“Is this really how you see me, Kei?” You turn around to meet his eyes, his stare holds the love of epics. He would write you novels if he could, but this picture is worth a thousand words.

“Of course it is, baby,” He brings a hand to thumb at your slightly swelling belly.

“Of course it is.”

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

#tsukishima smut #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei smut #tsukishima kei #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #hqhq server collab #haikyuu hq #hq tsukishima

[aiweirdness]

A big neural net reviews a smaller neural net's recipes

I’ve used various neural networks to generate recipes, to varying degrees of success. My earliest recipes were generated with char-rnn, which had to learn everything - spelling, punctuation, words - entirely from scratch. Its recipes were terrible (Swamp Peef and Cheese, anyone? Or Chocolate Chicken Chicken Cake?). Later when I started using GPT-2, I was using a neural net that had already seen a lot of recipes online during internet pre-training, and its recipes looked a lot more realistic (although not entirely realistic - there was that recipe for Black Forest Cake that suggested pouring the batter into a toaster, or the jello recipe that starts with “remove all internal rinds”).

GPT-3, an even more powerful text-generating neural net, has seen so many recipes during its internet pre-training that its recipes are boringly plausible. Bake its Black Forest Cake recipe and you’d probably actually get cake at the end, even if it’s not the best cake in the world. Its recipes aren’t funny at a glance, which is why I haven’t posted any of them - until internet linguist Gretchen McCulloch suggested that, rather than have GPT-3 generate its own recipes, I have it rate char-rnn’s recipes. Readers, it worked.

I prompted GPT-3 with two example recipes from allrecipes, each followed by 3 of their human-written reviews. Then, for the third recipe I inserted one of char-rnn’s recipes:

Chocolate Chocolate Cake

1 cup sugar 1/4 cup butter 1 cup margarine 1 cup cocoa 1 teaspoon vanilla 1 cup margarine 1/2 cup pecans, chopped 1 teaspoon vanilla 1 egg yolk 1/2 cup sugar 1/4 cup chopped pecans 1 cup sugar 1 teaspoon vanilla 1 cup cocoa 1 teaspoon vanilla

Combine flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, salt, and salt in a large bowl. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until mixture boils and stiff peaks form. Add milk and cook until mixture is completely melted. Remove from heat and stir in sugar and sugar. Add eggs and vanilla. Beat until smooth. Spread in batter. Sprinkle with pecans.

Yield: 1 servings

And then I let GPT-3 add reviews. Would it mention the excessive lakes of vanilla? The complete lack of flour? The foolhardy reliance on the heroic efforts of a single egg yolk to hold things together?

oxtailsandturnovers Rating: 5 stars 03/04/2007 delicious chocolate recipe!!! and the perfect balance between cocoa and chocolate. and they sure were LONGNECKS! big time rave here. lazy w birthdays w friends and family, try this recipe for something chocolate sweet the ppl will talk about over and over.

AKEMIYUNA Rating: 5 stars appraisal 12/03/2008 Excellent for the kids Halloween party. Everyone got so thrilled by seeing something new on Chocolate in sponge. He even likes nuts separately but it will taste good..

BYOMFYABF Rating: 2 stars 10/01/2008 I could only give it a 2 as I had to make changes to it due to ingredients I had. First, I used Dove Dark Chocolate cocoa instead of Hershey's, no nuts, and the mashed bananas and caramel topping were a must. I did use coffee instead of the hot water, and dark margarine instead of regular, therefore I could not use light whipped cream, but I made homemade whipped cream. It had WAY too much flour in it, but i guess it could have been me measuring heavier than I should have. I also only used 2 cups of flour. it was my first bundt cake, so it was huge!!!

Here’s another batch of reviews, this time of a more chaotic char-rnn recipe:

Simple Soup Alaborate Soup Pie

6 each chopped white perserves; ** (optional but ring) 1/2 cup chopped fresh marjoram 1/2 teaspoon dried thyme 1/3 teaspoon salt 1/2 cup thinly sliced onion 1/4 cup onion (chopped) 1/2 teaspoon garlic; minced 2 small carrots 6 can dry white wine 1 tabasco sauce 1 tablespoon sugar 1/2 cup flour, whipped topping 2 tablespoon chili powder

Marinate: Serves 4. Whip and short under boiling. Add the sliced mushrooms and peppers and stir to coat. Stir the sugar and carrots. In large bowl, beat the egg to make a 1 1/2 tablespoons of the flour. Add shanks and stir it well. Spoon into a frying pan before serving.

Recipe By : DonajehLi Koubmanda

Yield: 8 servings

JEFFREY97389 Rating: 2 stars 03/03/2006 Even though everyone said this was great, I thought it was just 'OK!' The perserves gave a strange flavor to the sauce.

MATTJANDTRACER Rating: 2 stars 01/02/2009 This recipe sounded good. When it came out it tasted a bit like a casserole and not a stew. I used venison instead of deer and pork. I liked the way it turned out, but it wasnt very French.

Hammy Rating: 5 stars The g iving this as a gift as it takes about 10 less minutes but using American cheese and not blended with parsley flakes, lime-flavored gelatin, which is my husband's favorite dish from SuperValu. Just happens to be the creamy sauce. Don't worry about a pie crust.

In fact, the more chaotic the char-rnn recipe, the more chaotic the reviews tend to be, as if GPT-3 has picked up on the chaos and is trying to somehow produce reviews that could plausibly be written by whatever weird humans are visiting this mangled recipe website.

Geilded Peanuts & Crabmeat Basil

3 beef, boneless chops, or thyme, 1 lamber and flince of fresh diced in diagonal 1 parsley 2 large leeks (for garnish) 3/4 teaspoon sesame oil, seeded and peeled 1 any jeans'l-tortilla 1 pepper or cinnamon 1/4 cup baesly pinto beans. (Crushed and thawed; minced fine you recipe) 1 tomato base 1 fat in the last 5 inch plates 1 garlic clove; crushed 1/4 cup dijon mustard

In a large bowl set aside. Remove the sides from the heat and saute with a fork and cover and cook on Low for 6 to 6 hours.

Yield: 6 servings

Morales Rating: 0 stars 03/30/2008 I had high expectations for this recipe, but it was an outright flop. I don't know if the measurements were somehow incorrect or what, but I ended up with a watery mess that certainly wasn't crab salad. My girlfriend, who is a new chef liked it fine, but I really wish that the recipe didn't claim that it made six servings when it really made enough for one, if that's what we were going to call it.

Carole Rating: 5 stars Glorious sobs! This recipe will be delicious for a minumum of 1½ Hours to maximum 2½ hours Time to bring lots of fresh sized potatoes in the house or grow in the age may become quite famous

Amanda Rating: 3 stars 11/13/2009 My friend is having a birthday party and will celebrate with Camping. She's in charge of the dishes and wanted to serve food at the campfire. I'll 10th grade, my easy information for her party. It will not sound strange anyway test this task with a note to work rationally.What to take trees, portable tables for chairs, the main meal, food. I personally love the taste of it but has anyone seen a shepherd (wasn't any spices), oysters. It is sufficient

It does kind of make sense that GPT-3’s recipe reviews aren’t directly complaining about the utter weirdness of char-rnn’s recipes. Probably very few of the recipe reviews in GPT-3’s training data involved baffled complaints about nonexistent or repeated ingredients, or apocalyptic levels of recipe failure. So GPT-3 has learned that even the critical reviews tend to fall within a certain sentiment range. It’s interesting that it tries to emulate char-rnn’s primitive neural net glitchiness - I’ve noticed before that GPT-3 seems to be capable of pretending to be a much simpler neural net.

Subscribers get bonus content: After generating a few reviews, GPT-3 would sometimes go on to generate new recipes (such as “BBQ Cheeseburger Salad” which contains lime jello, whipped topping, and sliced black beans). It may have been deliberately trying to make them terrible to fit in with char-rnn’s recipes.

Speaking of AI-generated recipes: there are some absolute disasters in my book on AI, You Look Like a Thing and I Love You: Amazon - Barnes & Noble - Indiebound - Tattered Cover - Powell’s - Boulder Bookstore

#neural networks #gpt-3 #char-rnn #recipes

[uniquevocashark]

Coffee shop AU prologue

Every third Tuesday, the landlord’s daughter comes in for coffee. It could be a balmy day without snow or just shy of a blizzard and, without fail, Alcina Dimitrescu would walk in at 4 on the dot. She had only been late once, before you were hired, and five employees had quit after she left.

Or so Rosalyn had told you.

Every afternoon, Alcina followed the same routine. She never deviated except for her greeting, which was different for each of your coworkers, ranging from “oh, its you” to a softly whispered “hello”. After which she would monotonously order the same three drinks in the same exact order.

First, her tea, which didn’t have a name. It was delivered every two months just for her. Along with it was her personal addition, a thick red syrup that had to be soaked into the leaves every morning and added to the finished product before she deigned to even look at the cup. Accompanying her every time she came in were her ducklings, six little fluff balls that were always dressed warmly. You knew she had names for them, but you didn’t ask, and she didn’t say.

The second drink was for them, a cup cold of milk with a shot of coffee that she called an ‘ice latte’ when she ordered it. She spoilt her ducks; Alcina carried them in a personalised bag, made of real ferret leather and had personalised cups and tables delivered for her ducklings. She had even sent a special cup for the drink to be made in so that the taste wouldn’t be ‘ruined’ and it was easy to pour into their personal cups.

You found it all very surreal.

The third drink she ordered just before paying, when you had all finished having your weekly freak out, was a hot chocolate to go. Because she and her family were over 8 feet tall, they had their own cup sizes that all restaurants in the area had. She always took a medium of this cup sizing, which was twice the size of a large.

“So,” You had asked once, after she ordered, “Why do you always order the hot chocolate so late?”

She’d taken her eyes of Maxwell to flick her brows up at you, “I enjoy watching how it’s made, though I wish he didn’t fumble so much.”

Most days you didn’t ask her questions, but she seemed calmer around you than the others. She barely tolerated Maxwell serving after he missed a question she asked, Rosalyn fainted after every encounter and your manager was never in the store on Tuesdays. You tried to treat her as an ever-shifting puzzle, which was difficult because she was a person, but it helped you notice what mood she was in and avoid any unpleasant consequences of pissing off one of the richest people in the country.

Then there was her mother, who preceded Alcina into the store that evening.

Alcina was an easy 8 foot 7 inches and Countess Dimitrescu was a foot taller. She had never entered the store while you worked there, only ever the occasion bypass when she bothered walking around the village. So, seeing her bend to get through the modified door was terrifying.

She was her daughters opposite in appearance, had you not known Alcina beforehand, you might have thought she was a secretary. Countess Dimitrescu wore bright, brilliant colours; a rich crimson fur coat over a cobalt blouse, with Prussian blue pants to match and no gloves. If Alcina was the picturesque elegance one initially thought of, Countess Dimitrescu was the sleek elegance many worked hard to capture. She left her red hair loose and fluffy under a yellow fascinator, a loose veil framing the right side of her face. Its then that you notice the ducklings aren’t with Alcina today.

You quell the disappointment in your chest. Sure, you liked it when the ducks were in the store, because they were cute and fluffy and Alcina seemed to smile just a bit more when they were around. That was only because Alcina was less tense on days with them around, making her visits almost pleasant and not any other reason. Being disappointed was because you had to walk on eggshells, not because Alcina seemed lost without the ducks.

Instead, you focus on the Countess who looms over you with a grin. You didn’t even try to look at her face, keeping your eyes glued to the counter. You could feel her eyes on you, waiting for you to do something, and it made your shoulders tense. She puts her hand on the counter and you manage one step back before she grips your chin and yanks it up.

Her gaze is cold. You stare wide eyed at her while she strokes your jaw with her thumb. It makes your skin itch, freeze and burn at the same time, like you scrapped it with sandpaper and poured hot chili sauce on it at the same time. It takes ten seconds for you to break.

“May I help you?” You ask.

The Countess smirks, taking her hands off you, “My Daughter’s tea, three sugars, no milk, ten drops of the syrup.”

You stare for a second, knowing that you hated every moment that just happened but being unsure how to process it properly. “Right.”

Alcina steps closer when her mother turns away, placing a metal tin on the edge of the counter, “My usual drink.”

You do an awkward thumbs up, “You got it.”

The next half an hour is misery. Your hands won’t stop shaking and no matter how much you scratch at your jaw. After ten minutes it hurts to touch it but you still scratch. You try not to pay too much attention to either DImitrescu, which is difficult when the Countess speaks loud enough to deafen with every word out. She catches your eye once, while you look up to think, watches you scratch at your jaw and winks at you. You scramble to the back when she looks away and stay there, making and remaking hot chocolate, until it’s time for them to pay.

The Countess takes you by the hand to thank you when you get ther and you jerk it back after three seconds with a tight nod and strained smile.

When the Countess finally steps out, you put Alcina’s usual hot chocolate on the counter. “On the house.” You murmur when she goes to grab more money.

“Why?”

You take a deep breath, your jaw still itching unbearably, clutching the balm in your offhand. “A bribe so you bring the ducklings next time,” you joke awkwardly, scratching again, “In all seriousness, because you look like you need it.”

“You look like you need one.” She places the money on the counter, taking the cup slowly, “use the balm, it will help.”

And then she’s gone and your left with a sore face and a small tin of balm clutched in your hand.

---

thank you @evil-regal-vampiress​ for the best characters in this and yes, I'm talking about the ducks

#lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #my writing #coffee shop AU #the ducks will be back and they WILL be important to the story i promise #will post other basic info tomorrow but now i must sleep

[the-mighty-jellybean]

Crown of Thorns

“What will I be when I grow up, Lady Mother?” Y/N asked, the bed sheets wrapped high under her chin, arms clutching her knees.          

“You will be Queen, my darling,” she cupped her face, and she leaned into her touch, “and a warrior.”

Series Summary: After the need for their alliance during the Battle of Titan, King Stephen asked in return for his services, that King Anthony of the Iron Islands’, first born daughter would be given in marriage, to his sons, Prince Steven and Prince James of the Kingdom of Kamar-Taj. Despite King Anthony’s other offers, King Stephen would only agree to one, or there would be war between their two Kingdoms. Leaving King Anthony with no choice, he sacrificed his first born daughter, in hopes of sparing his people of anymore suffering. Anthony prayed that the men would care for his daughter, and love her as he did, but a sparkly crown can hide a thousand secrets.  

Pairing: Prince!Steve x Princess!Reader x Prince!Bucky

Series Warnings: Strong Language, Violence, Angst, Fluff (There will be some fluffy stuff I promise, I can't resist), Smut: This series will include some aspects of Dub-con/Non-con: Steve and Bucky aren't going to be Prince Charmings. More Warnings will be posted on Chapters.

Masterlist

Part Three: One Night More 

Chapter Warnings: None? 

Word Count: 4.3k

“What’s going on in here?” Steve demanded, watching the way Y/N kept her hands on top of Peter’s. Steve observed the way Peter’s eyes narrowed at the two Princes.

“Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” The princess spat, standing up and placing herself between Peter and the Princes.

“We don’t need to knock, when we own you.” James stepped forward.

“You don’t own her, nobody owns her.” Peter stood up, trying to come in line with Y/N, but the young girl nervous for her friend, keeps him behind her, but she gives him a smile, showing her appreciation for his words.

“You guys are really sweet, super cute.” James teases, dragging up a chair from the side of the room, flipping it backwards so he’s sitting on it back to front.

“Are you going to answer my first question, or do I need to drag it out of you?” Steve piped up again, his sights were still set on the young boy, who stood next to Y/N.

“I don’t need to answer to you. And might I remind you of my earlier statement, until my eighteenth birthday, you don’t own me, you can’t hurt me, and as much as you may try…” Y/N walked so that her small frame was stood toe to toe with Steve, “you don’t frighten me.”

There was a small stand-off between the two, before Y/N turned, seizing Peter by the hand, and walking straight passed the angered and glaring Princes.

“Not yet you’re not.”

~~~~~

7 Years and 358 Days later…..

The years seemed to roll by quickly, Y/N’s relationship with Peter, didn’t become awkward like most would after an unexpected declaration of love, instead it was quite the opposite, it only increased their bond, they had never been closer.

Y/N had grown in beauty, intelligence and grace, she was strong like her father wished her to be, Anthony would remind her daily that she would make her mother proud every single day. Y/N wouldn’t deny, that Peter had also grown handsome, but no matter how her feelings grew or shifted for Peter, the two dark clouds still loomed over her head, like a storm that waited to break.

The Princes’ presence was always known, on her birthdays they would send her lavish gifts, such as jewellery, or gowns. Every other day she would receive love letters that would make her gag, their words laced with forced love and romance. As Y/N edged closer to her eighteenth birthday, the letters began to be a lot more lude, the words would make her cheeks burn, often James would be the crudest in his speech.

Those letters were often quickly burned in her fire pit, burning the words out of existence in both life and mind.

One week.

One week was all Y/N had until her eighteenth birthday. Seven years seemed to fly by, she spent most of her days; in sword training with Valkyrie or tutoring with the Vision. However, now she was perched in front of her mirror, combing through her hair, as she watched in the reflection, Lady Wanda and Lady Maria, pack her things into different boxes, as she prepared to travel to the Kingdom of Kamar-Taj.

“Would you like to take the satine necklace, that Prince James gifted you, your highness?” Y/N turned away from the mirror, to see the dazzling necklace that Lady Wanda was holding up.

The style really wasn’t her, it was big and flamboyant, the sight of it made her squint.

“I suppose I should, I’m sure he will want to see me wearing it.” Y/N sighed, looking at the pile of boxes and trunks that held her belongings, her room of seventeen years was beginning to look rather bare and empty.

“Why the long face, your highness?” Lady Maria lightly touched her shoulder.

“I don’t wish to leave, Lady Maria.” Y/N had to bite her bottom lip, so that Lady Maria could not see it trembling.

“You knew this day would come, Princess. One day you would have to leave the nest, so to speak.” Lady Maria’s words, were not the comfort she had hoped for, not trusting her voice, Y/N just nodded, flashing a small and very fake smile.

“I’m going to find my father, am I okay to leave you?” Y/N stood looking between her two handmaidens.

“Of course, your Highness, we will be finished soon.” Lady Wanda nodded her head, both of the servants bobbed, as Y/N left the room in search of her father.

Y/N trapsed through the long hallways, gazing out the large glass panes, that showed the endless greenery that surrounded the castle. Not paying attention, Y/N was almost knocked to the ground when a force hit her hard in her legs.

“Woah, slow down.” Y/N lightly scolded, squatting down to place her warm palm on the soft skin of her young sister’s face, “Why the rush, Princess?”

“I’ve been looking for you,” Morgan squeaked, her smile seemed to almost split her face in half.

“Well, now you’ve found me,” Y/N chuckled, tickling her sister’s neck lightly, “what’s got you hunting me?”

“I want to play.” Morgan replied quietly.

“Play, what?” Y/N stood, taking Morgan’s small hand, in her medium sized one, leading her through the hallways.

“Hide and seek.” Morgan squealed, jumping up and down, tugging on Y/N’s arms.

“I’m looking for father, Morgs, I will play after…ah Peter!” Y/N quickly called to the young ward, who happened to be walking from the opposite direction, he smiled upon hearing his name.

“How may I help the Princesses of the Iron Islands, on this fine day?” Peter bowed, making Y/N and Morgan giggle at his theatrics, he rose with a cheeky smile, flashing a grin.

“Could you play hide and seek, with the Princess Morgan? There is something I need to speak to my father about.” Y/N smiled, Peter could never say no, and held his hand out to the little Princess.

“Come young Princess, we’ll shall play, and Lady Y/N will join us when she is finished with your father.” Morgan happily took Peter’s hand, waving goodbye to her older sister.

Y/N walked to her father’s study, spying her fathers hunched up figure as he scribbled onto pieces of parchment.

“Father.” Y/N announced herself, softly knocking on the open door.

King Anthony looked up at the sound of her sweet voice, giving her a warm, yet sad looking smile.

“My dearest daughter.” Anthony rose, meeting his daughter halfway across the room, he wrapped her tightly in his arms, pressing his lips to her forehead.

“Can we speak?” Y/N asked softly.

“Yes, yes absolutely. Shall we go for a ride, it’s a lovely day?” Anthony gestured to the rays of sunshine that poured in through the window.

“That sounds delightful.”

The two rode side by side, Y/N enjoyed the feeling of the summer breeze warming her face, the rocking motion of the horse, allowing Y/N to escape her mind for a short while.

“What did you wish to speak about, my young Princess?” Anthony disrupted the peaceful silence that had fallen upon the two.

“I just wanted your company, father.” Y/N responded, smiling at her father’s unconvinced face.

“I will miss these times.” Anthony sighed sadly, making Y/N’s heart sink at his troubled tones.

“Me too,” Y/N agreed, “but I won’t be far away, and if you ever want me to come back, all you need to do is send a hawk, and I will be straight home.”

“Y/N you must learn, my darling. Your place will be at the Kamar-Taj, you will be a wonderful Queen when the day comes, and you will be the greatest warrior that they will have ever seen, but you will not be needed here.” Anthony explained, making Y/N frown, but she took in her father’s words.  “Your sister is now my heir, you must be her ally when the time comes.”

“Don’t speak that way father. There are still many years left in you. And yes, I may be of the House of Strange, but you will always be my father, and my heart will always be with the Iron Islands.” Y/N confessed.

“Would that be, because of your love for me, or a certain boy ward?” Anthony quirked his brow at his young daughter, watching the way her lips twitched and she bowed her head.

“Don’t be silly father, my love for you is unconditional, and Peter is only my closest friend, that is all.” Y/N shook her head, kicking her heals into her horse’s sides, spurring it into action.

Anthony sat and watched his daughter for a moment, the realisation hitting him, that she was no longer his little girl, now; now she was a woman.

~~~~~

“Are you sure that everything has been collected, you haven’t left anything behind. You don’t want to have to wait three weeks for anything to be shipped to you, you know what the postal service can be like this time of year, and it’s just a huge incon-“

“Lady Mother, please.” Y/N held her hand up, silencing her step-mother, as she laughed lightly at her fretting, “There is no need to worry, Lady Wanda and Lady Maria, have checked my room three times at your request, there is nothing that is left behind.”

“If you are sure?” Pepper looked upon her step-daughter, admiring the woman she had become, taking her by the sides of the face, “I can’t believe this day has finally come.”

“I know, Lady Mother. I know we’ve all been…anticipating it, but now that it is here, it does not seem real.” Y/N sighed, “Take care of my father, I fear he will struggle to adapt to my absence.”

“Of course, I will. Your father will be well seen to.” Pepper promised, hugging Y/N tightly.

“I love you, Lady Mother. You have always been there for me, in ways that I could have only wished that mother could have been. You have been a loyal friend and confidant in my times of need and worry.” Y/N’s eyes began to cloud, but she swallowed the tears back, not wanting to break so out in the open.

“I love you more than you could realise, my little flower. I will always be a friend to you, if you need an ear, I’m only a hawk away.” Pepper smiled, kissing Y/N’s cheek softly.

Y/N turned to the small child, who had hidden her face in her mother’s dress, Y/N gently placed her hand in the girl’s hair, stroking it delicately.

“My little Morgan, will you write to me?” Y/N coaxed, the little girl revealed her slightly tear soaked face, nodding silently, “Please give me one more hug, sweet girl?”

Without a second ask, Morgan’s arms were thrown around her neck, squeezing her tightly, so tightly Y/N feared she would pass out, but the girl was removed gently, and she settled back to hiding her face.

Y/N rose to her feet, the crowd of her people stood, some blew their noses and wiped their eyes, as they waved their crowned Princess off on her journey across the Marvel Continent.

She began to climb the wooden plank, towards the helm of the ship, Lady Maria and Lady Wanda followed behind her, Sir Philip Coulson led the way, along with Peter.

Every few steps the Princess would wave goodbye to her no longer subjects, her eyes were bulging with tears that threatened to spill, but Y/N managed to bite her lip, keeping the pools at bay, until safely hidden away in her quarters on the ship.

“Are you okay, your Highness?” Y/N smiled, as the familiar voice of her father’s ward, appeared behind her, as she took her large over coat, “Here allow me.”

Peter took the large fur from around her shoulders, laying it delicately over one of the chairs, before he looked up at his friend, who had hidden her face in her hands.

“Y/N…are you alright?” Peter stepped towards her, but she braced her hands, stopping him from coming closer.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. It’s just happening a bit fast. I shall be okay in a moment.” Y/N excused, furiously wiping at her eyes.

“If you are sure?” Peter seemed unconvinced but decided that focusing on the subject would not be wise. “Where was your father, your highness?”

“Peter, we’re alone, you can call me Y/N, your Highness is to snobby.” Y/N grimaced at the way the word rolled off her tongue, “And we said our goodbyes.”

Y/N perched on the bed, Peter followed her, sitting next to her, but left a small gap, which made Y/N roll her eyes, so she shuffled up closer to him.

“Are you afraid?” Peter asked, after a while.

“Me? Afraid? Never.” Y/N shrugged, “Terrified? Very.”

The two laughed, before a quiet descended upon the two again.

“You don’t have to be.” Peter spoke up, “I won’t let anything happen to you, I promised your father.”

“That’s alright then, as long as I know you’ve got my back, what’s the worry?” Y/N giggled, looking into Peter’s deep brown eyes, in that moment the two connected, just lost in each other’s gaze, as if there was nothing in the world but them.

If Y/N wasn’t mistaken, for a second it appeared that Peter may have been leaning in closer to her face, but suddenly the ship hit a rough patch of water, causing them both to land on one another, as they used each other’s frames for support.

Peter recovered quickly, as did Y/N, who pulled away abruptly, giving her head a shake, as many unwanted thoughts began circling her mind, Peter sharply stood from the bed.

“I’ll see you later, I must go now…to my room…to do…things.” And that was that, Peter hastily left the room, leaving Y/N dazed and confused.

“I need to get off this boat.”

~~~~~~

The voyage across the sea, was not one of comfort. The sunny weather Y/N left behind her in the Iron Islands, was replaced with a horrendous storm, that left Y/N huddled in her room, as she watched the waves, rise above her small portal windows. She tried to venture outside at one point to see if she could help, but was quickly sent away by Sir Coulson and Peter, as they insisted, they could handle everything.

Four days passed, and soon the grey lands of Kamar-Taj, appeared through the cloud line. It didn’t look anymore inviting then the thunder and lightning storm, that the ship had just sailed through. And the prospect of the company that was waiting on the land, was not at all comforting to Y/N.

On the fifth evening of the journey, the ship docked at the Kamar-Taj port; the plank was lowered and despite the area, Y/N was happy to have her feet on dry land.

Stepping off the wood and onto the pier, Y/N was met by an entourage of guards, but her future husbands were nowhere to be seen.

“That’s nice of them.” Y/N whispered to Lady Wanda, but she was just rewarded with an unamused glare.

The Kamar-Taj castle was a huge fortress, the walls were high, and the windows were narrow, only seen in the blackness of the night, by the small orange glow of candles. The castle itself was surrounded by a thick forest, the dark wood of the trees, looked sinister and menacing, in the way the bark and the branches twisted.

Carriages with pure black horses waited at the end of the harbour. Unlike the gold-plated carriage that had taken Y/N to her betrothal ceremony, these ones were much less royal, and instead looked much like a funeral cart.

Much like the trees, the carriages were covered in dark mahogany, decorated with arching designs that twisted like the forest. They did look royal, with the burst of garnet red, that disrupted the largely dark exterior.

Y/N climbed into one, escorted by Lady Maria and Lady Wanda; Peter and Sir Coulson were taken in one behind.

“This is nice.” Y/N sassed, which just earned her a second look of scold from her handmaids, “What? Now that we’re in Kamar-Taj, you two have lost your sense of humour?”

“Just be careful with your words, your Highness, you don’t know, who could be listening.” Lady Maria looked around, her words making Y/N stop and thinking, sinking back into her seat, and looking out of her window into the thick rows of trees and shrubbery.

The carriage stopped moving, as it arrived at the doors of the castle, where Lady Maria and Lady Wanda were the first to step down, before they turned and waited for the Princess, who was helped down the stair by one of the footmen.

“Thank you.” Y/N smiled, the footman just looked confused, giving a quick smile, before returning to his position, next to the door of the carriage.

A red carpet had been laid out for the Princess, the side lined with soldiers and guards, before Y/N could really take in her surroundings her view was obscured by a man, who appeared to come from nowhere, who stood before Y/N.

“Welcome, your Highness, to the Kingdom of Kamar-Taj. I am Wong.” The man bowed to Y/N, who gave him a sweet smile, but again the man neither looked bemused, or uncertain, but did not return the smile, turning his back, and making a beckoning motion with his hand.

“Come follow me, I shall take you to see King Stephen and Queen Christine.” Wong began to walk and Y/N nearly stumbled at the sudden start, quickly finding her feet, and following the man into the walls of the castle.

“Where are all of your people?” Y/N looked around before she entered the castle, realising that there was no awaiting crowd, just more thick forest.

“Er…King Stephen felt that your journey was long, and that the crowds would have only increased your weariness. A hawk sent by your companions told us of the storm that you had suffered during your voyage. King Stephen felt that it would have been less…taxing.” Wong explained, Y/N’s furrowed her brow, but shook it off, once the warmth from the castle hit her slightly sea breezed body.

“Will the Princes be in attendance, at my audience with King Stephen?” Y/N secretly prayed that the answer would be a no, but it appears the Gods were not on her side today.

“Of course, your Highness. The Princes have been longing to see you.” Wong spoke with a little more animation in his voice.

Finally, the group of outsiders reached a tall door, with large black rings, that Wong gripped tightly.

“Are you ready, your highness?” Wong turned to Y/N.

“How do I look?” Y/N turned to her small party, who all nodded in approval, Y/N’s eyes briefly catching Peter’s, who gave her an encouraging smile, “I think so, when your ready Wong.”

Y/N waved her hand, and Wong took that as his signal, heaving the doors open, the noise level on the other side, obviously dimmed to a deathly silence. The Lords and Nobles, who lined the long tables, all placed their cutlery and mead down, all their eyes and attention focused on the Princess.

Y/N worked hard to control the heat in her face, taking in shaky breaths, as she followed behind Wong, as he led her to the main table, where the Strange family sat waiting.

Wong stood to the side, allowing Y/N to move forwards, and curtsey to the awaiting royalty.

“Ah, Princess Y/N, it is wonderful that you can finally join us in our humble castle, you have grown into a beautiful young woman, the portraits your father sent us, truly do not give you justice.” King Stephen spoke fondly, making Y/N clench her fists at her side, biting her tongue.

“I thank you, your Grace. Your home is…beautiful and if I be so bold, is far from humble in it’s splendour.” Y/N had to watch herself, as she realised halfway through her compliment, she was speaking through gritted teeth, but she cleared her throat allowing her mouth to be more relaxed.

“You are too kind, my dear. Please would you like to stay for some food, or as I can imagine you are tired from your journey, would you like Wong to escort you to your chambers?” King Stephen gestured to his table, before the man servant, who waited patiently just at the side.

Y/N’s eyes quickly scanned the table, eyes settling on some unfamiliar faces, before landing on two that made her hold back a shudder.

The Princes had obviously grown older, they were still rather handsome, but the cold expression that matched their soulless eyes, was still plain as day.

“I think I shall retire, if that is okay, your Grace. As you say my journey has been long, and I am indeed tired.” Y/N nodded, giving her best pretend smile.

“Of course, your highness. You should be well rested for the festivities tomorrow, we wouldn’t want you to not enjoy the entertainment and ball that we have organised in honour of your eighteenth birthday.” King Stephen accepted, gesturing for Wong to lead you away.

“Thank you, your Grace. I look forward to it.” Y/N curtsied one final time, before following Wong out of the hall, and towards her bedchambers.

“These are your bedchambers, your Highness.” Wong smiled, as he showed Y/N a closed door.

Y/N noticed that it was in between two other doors, both identical to hers, at first she remained quiet, but when she entered the room, she noticed there was two doors, either side of the spacious room.

“Are these doors for my handmaids?” Y/N questioned, looking around the room for any other interpretation.

“Um…no, your Highness.” Wong stated, flatly, Y/N tilted her head at the man.

“Well, where do they go?” Y/N asked.

“Um…those doors…they um…they lead to the Princes rooms.” Wong eventually struggled out.

“I beg your pardon.” Lady Wanda spoke on Y/N’s behalf.

“This room is connected to the Princes’ rooms, my Lady. But do not fret the doors are locked.” Wong grinned, but it did nothing to curb Y/N’s sickening feeling that was growing in her stomach.

“That may be the case, but who has the keys?” Lady Maria piped up, hands on her hips as she glared at the poor man.

“Just the maids…and…”

“And….” Peter pressed; Y/N sensed the air of intensity in his voice.

“And I do believe that, quite possibly, I mean I could be wrong, I’m not completely sure, maybe…”

“For Gods sakes man, spit it out.” Sir Coulson demanded, his tone frightening most of the room, including Wong.

“The Princes.” Y/N looked at her handmaids, and the rest of her entourage, they all shared the same or similar looks of disgust, anger and shock.

“The King is aware that the Princess’ eighteenth birthday is not till tomorrow, and even then, they are not married, therefore their distance from the Princess should be greater than some lousy wooden door.” Sir Coulson demanded; his hands clenched in fists by his side, one resting on the handle of his sword, that was tethered to his side.

“Yes, my Lord, I do understand that, but the King has requested that the Princess be placed in this room, as the Princess has spent many years apart from her betrotheds, and hence they should be closer to one another.” Wong tried to explain, but by the looks of thunder on the crowd surrounding Wong, it was not going very well.

“The Princess is too young to be left so close to young males, alone.” Lady Maria complained.

“The Princess is not yet married.” Lady Wanda chimed in.

“And the Princess is stood right here.” Y/N folded her arms, realising that this back and forth was fruitless, as she sat on top of the chest at the end of her fourposter bed.

“Look I’m not happy with these arrangements, but they appear to be the ones set in place by King Stephen, therefore; because this is his Kingdom, I am excepting of his reasoning, and his living arrangements.” Y/N finished, feeling slightly out of breath.

“But your Highness-“

“It doesn’t matter. It’s just a room. Now please go with Wong, and find your own sleeping arrangements, then Lady Wanda and Lady Maria, return to me, when you have settled, and help me prepare for bed, I will be fine waiting.” Y/N shooed her people away, Wong taking his chance and leaving first, Sir Coulson and Lady Maria hot on his heals, with looks of rage. Lady Wanda lingered for a moment, but soon left with a shy wave goodbye.

Of course, Peter remained, his face was displeased as his eyes flicked from both the doors.

“You must go with them Peter, you will get lost.” Y/N sighed, fiddling with the cords of her cloak, as she watched Peter slowly come from his trance.

“Would you like me to stay with you tonight?” Peter wondered, but Y/N shook her head with a sad smile.

“I don’t think that, that is a wise decision Peter. If the Princes catch you in my chambers, you will be hung, no doubt for treason.” Y/N spoke sadly, removing her jewellery.

“If I caught the Princes in here, then they would be the ones swinging.” Peter spat, cracking his knuckles.

“Peter, watch your mouth. We are not safe in these walls, who knows who might be listening.” Y/N hushed, stepping towards the boy, and placing her hands on his knuckles.

“Go and find Wong, I shall see you tomorrow.” Y/N kissed Peter’s cheek, her lips perhaps lingering longer, than she should, but she pulled away, an excited smile across her face, “I can’t wait for you to see my dress for the ball tomorrow.”

Y/N clapped her hands, as she bounced on the balls of her feet, pushing away from Peter, who grinned at her childishness.

“I can’t wait.” Peter breathed a laugh, before turning for the door, “Good night, Princess.”

“Good night, Peter.”

Taglist

@readermia @this-is-a-chilis-drive-thru @bbywtchh @liakrichards@nisha-misha97 @waywardwifey @xxblueslothxx @randomtails @emma-is-a-nerd @hhxppyyy @viviennebloom @in-a-constant-daydream6 @actualhobbitjenny @sexyvixen7 @roleplay-multifandom @sassysaltyrat @sebastianstansqueen​ @cltex84​ @kmuir1​ @lemonadygirl​ @supernaturalwintersoldier​

#Steve Rogers #steve fic #steve angst #Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #Bucky angst #bucky fanfic #Dark Fic #dark bucky x reader #dark marvel #darkbucky #dark steve fic #prince!steve #prince!bucky #prince!stucky #princess!reader #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky x reader #steve x reader #steve x reader x bucky

[thepioden]

Fake It Til You Bake It Creamy Tomato Penne

Hello Tunglr do you too wish to create a tasty and filling dinner that looks like you put effort into it, but actually you just threw a bunch of stuff in a pan? Then it is in fact your lucky day.

Pros to this recipe: requires no finesse, requires almost entirely shelf-stable or freezable ingredience, except the milk. Can you a) chop an onion b) fry something in a skillet and c) open a can/jar? Congrats, you can do this.

Cons: oh god. Oh god I made this for two people oh god there’s so much.

Hardware:

Pot, for cooking pastas.

Colander, for draining pastas.

14-inch cast iron skillet or large dutch oven -OR- Nonstick skillet and 9x13 glass baking dish

Software:

1 lb pasta (recommended: penne)

1 lb ground pork sausage

4 oz (half a block) of cream cheese

1 10 oz package of frozen spinach, thawed and drained

1 small can of mushrooms, drained

1 medium yellow onion, diced

1 head of garlic (yes, you heard me), minced

Italian blend seasoning OR oregano, basil, marjoram, and rosemary

Salt and pepper, to taste

4 tbs. oil (I used half bacon grease and half herb-infused olive oil, because they were handy. Olive oil or butter would probably work best for you.)

1/4 cup AP flour

1 1/2 ish cups milk (I used 2%, because that’s what we had. Whole would probably work better. If you only have skim, maybe use stock instead?)

1 24 oz. jar of tomato sauce of your choice

Shredded mozzarella cheese, to top.

Instructions:

Preheat oven to 350F.  Bring a pot of water to a boil. Add a good fuck-whack of salt to the water.

Cook 1 lb. pasta according to package directions until just al dente (I cooked my penne for 7 minutes). When pasta has finished, drain and set aside.

Brown the 1 lb. pork sausage in the skillet or dutch oven over medium heat, along with the diced onion. Fry until the onion is soft and translucent. Add the minced garlic. It will look like a lot. Just trust me. (If you’re not a garlic goblin, go a head and halve this amount, I guess.)

IF you have a dutch oven or Large Fuckoff Cast Iron Pan, add the spinach and mushrooms now. If you have a normal people size skillet and are assembling this in a glass baking dish, hold off.

To the pork mixture, add Italian seasoning, salt, and pepper (you measure it with your heart. The pork will be fully cooked at this point; if you’re unsure, let the heat work for like a minute and taste, then adjust from there.) Add your 4 tbs. of oil and stir to spread it around. Then slowly sprinkle in the 1/4 cup of flour while stirring; mix until incorporated. It will make a paste. This is not a roux but is perhaps roux-adjacent. Your goal here is to just not see any visible streaks of flour. Cook for another minute or two.

Add your 1.5 c. milk and stir. You are making the World’s Fakest Bechamel, my friend. The sauce should be fairly watery, and will thicken in the oven; if it seems clodgy at this point, at another .5 cup milk.

Add the half block of cream cheese, chopped into cubes. Stir until it melts.

Add the jar of pasta sauce. Stir until evenly incorporated.

Choose your own adventure!    IF USING BIG SKILLET/DUTCH OVEN:    Add the pasta, stir until evenly distributed.    IF USING GLASS BAKING DISH:    Add about half the sauce, and spread the spinach and mushrooms on top. Add the pasta in a layer. Add the rest of the sauce. You can leave it stratified or stir it up, you do you.

Top with mozzarella cheese and whack it into the oven at 350 for about 20 minutes, or until the cheese on top is bubbly. I blizted mine under a high broiler for an additional 2 minutes to get the mozz nice and brown, but this is optional.

Makes at least 8? Servings? IDK, my wife and I each had two helpings and made it through like a third of the pan.

Probably. Probably freeze the leftovers. Christ. There is so much pasta.

#recipe blogging with pi #what's up guys this one was a banger #I had good intentions of actually making a bechamel and about halfway through frying the sausage #said 'eh fuck it' and did this instead #baked pasta

[forevfangirlwrites]

whenever you’re on the actress!annabeth vibe again it’d be cool if you did a jealous!annabeth story. I love jealous annabeth and I feel like you’d be so good at writing it

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

It’s a slow day. 

So slow that Percy has taken to watching Netflix on his phone, catching up on the new docuseries about the fashion industry, featuring Piper McLean and Thalia Grace (he wants to be able to talk about it next time he sees either of them).  

Never had he thought that would be his reason for watching a Netflix show.

Then again, there’s a lot he never expected from life, like intimately knowing his favorite actress. 

The bell on the door rings, signaling the first customer in like forever, and Percy pauses his show to walk up to the counter where a classic California brunette is scanning the menu. 

“Hi, welcome to Cali’s, how can I help you?” 

Her gaze drops to him at the words, immediately raising an eyebrow as her eyes continue to scan as much of him as the counter will allow.

Internally, Percy is burning in the most uncomfortable way. But he has a job to do, so he once again summons careless indifference paired with polite midwestern newscaster.

“Do you need help?” he prompts, since she still hasn’t said anything.

“Sure,” she says, leaning onto the counter a little with a sly smile. Percy takes half a step away and wishes he hadn’t said anything at all. It had not been an invitation. 

“Well I’d recommend the specials, they’re on that board.” He gestures to the board in hopes that she’ll turn her attention to it instead, but unfortunately, after a casual glance she turns back to him. 

The bell rings again and Percy is grateful for whoever just entered, because he’s not alone with this girl anymore, and she needs to hurry up now that there’s someone behind her in line.  

“But which one specifically would you recommend?” She leans against the counter a little more and he’s all too aware of the fact that her tank top is showing a modest amount of cleavage.

Honestly, she’s cute and not doing anything wrong (he recognizes how much courage it takes to flirt so openly like that), but he’s dating the love of his life and this poor girl just can’t compete.

“How about the vanilla bean frap?” he offers, mostly because it’s the easiest to make of all the specials. 

“Sure, if you recommend it, it has to be good,” she responds, sending another smile his way. 

“What size?” He asks, instead of acknowledging what she had said. He needs to nip this in the bud.

“Large.” The wink she throws makes him want to disappear into himself because no, he’s so not going there.

He does his best to maintain composure. “That’ll be $5.25.”

She hands him her card and their fingers brush, clearly something she had been planning for. Percy stifles a sigh and hands her the receipt. 

She takes it with another smile and starts to walk towards the pickup area and he gratefully turns his attention to the other customer. 

“Hi, welcome to Cali’s how can I he--”

And she’s back, poking her head in front of the other customer. “Sorry, you never got my name.”

He stares at her. 

“You know, for my drink,” she continues. 

“We call out by order.” It’s the first thing that comes to mind even though it is not true. 

She doesn’t quite buy it either. “Oh, are you sure?”

He wants to explain that it’s a slow enough day that he actually would call out by order, but that would mean more conversation. 

“I need to attend to this other customer,” he says instead, with an apologetic tone a midwesterner would be proud of. 

She smiles and walks away. “Right, sorry.”

He breathes a sigh of relief when she does, turning to the customer with a genuine apology on his lips.

“Hi, sorry about that, what can I get you?”

“A medium caramel macchiato,” a clipped voice responds, and his head snaps up. 

She’s got her hair in a ponytail, wearing a hat and sunglasses along with a hoodie—his hoodie. 

And even though she’s hiding most of herself, he still goes a little weak at the sight of her because, well did he mention she’s wearing his hoodie? 

“Sure thing,” he stutters out, punching in the order.

Her lips are set into a thin line and though he can’t see her eyes, he suspects they’re stormy (so what if he likes comparing his girlfriend’s eyes to the sky, he has the right to do that). 

He doesn’t really know why she’s mad and just hopes it’s not at him.

She doesn’t offer her card and he doesn’t ask, simply turning around to start making the vanilla bean frap, his mind running a mile a minute.

Why is she mad? Had he done something? He had been on his phone, she hadn’t texted him anything, or was it something he did last night?

(Though he remembers her really enjoying last night.)

Was it because she was annoyed at the other customer cutting her off? It is rude to get cut off and the other girl—

Wait.

Was she mad because the other girl was flirting?

His hands work on autopilot, pumping the vanilla into the cup, without really thinking about it as he formulates his theory. But even as he thinks about it, it sounds more absurd by the minute. Why would Annabeth Chase be jealous over some random girl? 

“Vanilla Bean frap,” he calls out, and the girl looks up from her phone, sauntering over to pick it up.

“Thank you!” she says brightly, immediately putting the straw in her mouth. “You’re right, it’s so good!”

“Glad you like it,” he responds politely. “Have a good day!”

And with that, he starts to move back in to make the caramel macchiato. 

“Actually,” she calls before he can do so. “I was wondering, if you wanted to maybe get a drink sometime?” 

“No, um, sorry, I’m not really interested…” he trails off awkwardly ‘cause he really hates doing this. Not that he’s constantly turning people down or anything, which is probably why he sucks at it. “Drinks really aren’t my thing,” he blurts.

“We could do lunch instead?” she offers.

“I, um, I can’t, sorry, um, hope you have a good day.” And with that he quickly shuffles back towards the espresso machine, picking up a glass to make himself look busy. 

“Okay,” she calls out, a little confused. But thankfully, she leaves.

He lets out a sigh of relief, setting down the glass and slumping against the counter once he hears the bell ring. 

“Are you just not going to make my drink?” The same clipped voice asks, and Annabeth removes her sunglasses, revealing, sure enough, dark eyes and creased eyebrow.

“Of course I will,” he says quickly, standing up. “Anything for you.”

He walks back over to the espresso machine, well aware of the palpable tension in the room. 

“So how was your day?” he asks casually over his shoulder. “I wasn’t expecting to see you.” He doesn’t know why he’s trying to be normal.

“Should I leave?”

“No! No!” He turns around, horrified. “You visiting me is the best thing that’s happened all day!”

“You sure about that?” she says in the same surly tone.

“Of course, babe, what's going on?”

“Well, you seemed fine with that other girl for company.”

There’s a moment of silence as he interprets her words.

There’s no fucking way.

He can’t help it, He busts out laughing.

“What!” Annabeth angrily yells.

“Are you…” he can’t get the word out. “Are you jealous?”   

“No!” she yells, crossing her arms and he needs to stop laughing before he actually fucks something up.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says, holding his hands up in defense while trying to calm his laughter.

“It’s just.” He rubs the back of his neck, thinking that it’s completely unfair that his girlfriend looks this good even while mad. “It’s just, you’re…”

At a loss for words, he just gesticulates wildly. 

“I mean, you’re Annabeth Chase,” he leans closer to her while she remains firmly rooted in place. “Not only are you extremely talented and beautiful and smart, even if you weren’t the kickass actress that’s taken Hollywood by storm, you’re still…” he pauses.

Reaching out, he cups her face. “By some miracle, you’re still my Annabeth, and no one can hold a candle to you.”

At his words, her arms drop from her chest and she sighs, defeated.

“Okay.” 

And god, for a literal millionaire actress she looks so small and he wants nothing more than to hold her in his arms. 

So he does.

Jumping the counter, he walks over and wraps his arms around her, letting her lean into his chest. He presses a kiss into her hair and holds her close until finally, muffled by the fabric of his shirt, she talks.

“I had a really rough day, it took forever to get one good take.”

“I’m sorry baby,” he mutters, running a hand down her back.

Sighing, she steps out of his embrace. “At least it’s over. When are you done?”

He glances at the clock. “I’ve got like an hour left.”

She looks entirely too cute when she pouts. 

“You’re welcome to stay, it’s been a slow day.”

She cheers slightly at his words. He leads her behind the counter, showing her the door to the employee room should she need to hide. 

“You weren’t…” he hesitates as he finally makes her caramel macchiato. 

“What?” she asks, leaning on the counter next to him, scrolling through her phone.

“You weren’t actually jealous right?”

She turns her attention back to her phone and shrugs infinitesimally, but he catches it. 

“Annabeth, how?” He cannot believe this, he refuses to.

She sighs. “It’s not easy dating me, I know, and maybe you’d prefer a more...normal relationship, where you don’t have to hide things. Plus,” she adds, even quieter. “You didn’t seem to hate it.”

He pours the shots of espresso in her drink and caps it. 

“Annabeth,” he says, walking over to hand her the drink. “I want you, I don’t care if I have to do extra things, I don’t want normal. And,” he stresses, “I did hate it. I just shouldn’t be rude to a customer. It’s called acting.” He adds a wink and she rolls his eyes, taking a sip of her drink in favor of responding.

“Besides,” he adds, completely changing the tone of the conversation by wiggling his eyebrows. “How many people can say they’ve had sex with Annabeth Chase?”

“Percy!” she smacks his arm, a blush coloring her face at the crude comment.

He just laughs and pulls her closer. 

“Maybe you need a reminder on just how much I’m yours,” he says in a low voice, inches away from her lips.

Annabeth doesn’t say anything, but she sets her coffee down and rests her hand on his chest. “Maybe,” she whispers.

It’s all the reason he needs to lean in and close the gap between them, capturing her lips in his and prying her mouth open.

She tastes like caramel macchiatos and the day is anything but slow. 

A/N: Thank you for the prompt! This is something  I actually wrote a while back because I too wanted to write jealous Annabeth so this was the perfect way to post it. I also got a request on ao3 for it so it seems to be a popular prompt lol I hope you liked this and it was what you were looking for! Thanks again for sending an ask!

#percy and annabeth #percabeth #percabeth fic #percabeth au #actress annabeth #barista percy #jealous annabeth

[eddie-and-richie]

Little Comments

Mayward Week 2020

Day 1: “People are staring” + Getting Together

There really wasn’t much that Pope didn’t like love about JJ. He was fearless, strong, witty, bold, sexy, loyal, cute, and at times a little obnoxious. But, Pope would defend this minor flaw till the day he died. JJ didn’t get a lot of attention growing up and so he had to make sure that people wouldn’t forget about him. Honestly, more times than not Pope found JJ’s rambunctious behavior more adorable than anything else, so it didn’t really bother him anyway. It was part of what made JJ JJ and Pope loved JJ. Except for one small, itsy bitsy tiny little detail that if he could he might maybe consider possibly changing: JJ was candid. He said the first thing that popped into his head and never thought twice about it. Which would be totally fine if more often then not it didn’t make Pope’s cheeks heat up and have him wish that he could grow gills and hide in the water for the rest of his life. 

It was always little comments. Just small absent-minded things that JJ would say to be funny and everyone else would pass off as a joke, but that Pope would stay up at night analyzing in his head. Like the time he wore a new pair of bright blue swimming trunks out on the HMS Pogue and after staring for a little too long (Making Pope feel a little embarrassed and feel like maybe he should have went for a large instead of a medium) made the comment “Damn Pope I think blue might be your color” and then after awkwardly patting him on the shoulder jumped into the water and didn’t emerge for another fifteen minutes. Or like how anytime the Pogues would do anything that required them partnering up JJ would immediately grab Pope’s hand and call “dibs”, and that anytime he would wear one of JJ’s shirts that he would lazily leave in his bedroom after spending the night, JJ would tell him that he “Looked better in it than him anyway,” Like what the fuck was Pope supposed to do with that information?

Pope thought that maybe he could handle the flirting if he did it to everyone. If it was just JJ being his free-spoken self and loving his friends in the flirtatious way that he did, but he didn’t do it to anyone else but him. Every once in awhile he would tease Kie about how hot she was and that she could get any girl on the island but, with her, it was obviously just that, teasing. When JJ would comment something about Pope it had too much heart, it cut too deep. It killed him. It killed him because Pope couldn’t do anything about it. 

JJ was straight. He flirted with girls, he talked about girls, he even hooked up with girls. But then just like clockwork every day, after hooking up with some random touron he would come back out on the boat and tell Pope that he had a pretty smile. Making the poor boy’s heart swell and head hurt at the same time. Pope wished he could just tell him to stop. That it made him uncomfortable and he didn’t want JJ to say stuff like that anymore. Only they didn’t make Pope feel uncomfortable, they made him flustered. They made him feel hopeless because JJ didn’t really mean these things and he wanted him to more than anything in the world. Beside bros should be able to listen to their bros call them cute without wanting to pin them down and kiss them until neither of them could breathe so Pope was kind of fucked either way. 

There was a party happening at the Boneyard and it was probably going to be one of the last of the year. The air was getting colder and the number of tourons was steadily decreasing. JJ was making most of the party and dancing with girls, drinking beers, sloppily singing along to whatever lame songs the radio was playing. After a while, he came over to Pope and wrapped an arm around his shoulders with a bright smile “There’s my golden boy,” he placed a wet kiss on Pope’s cheek and Pope did his best to not go weak in the knees. “You drunk yet?” He teased and took a sip out of the plastic cup that JJ was carrying around, surprised for the sizzling of coke to burn his tongue. “Nah, I’m DD tonight,” JJ smiled, dimples dotting his cheeks “So, that you guys can have fun, I did my partying this year, I figured it’d be fair.” 

Pope shook his head with a fond smile “That’s sweet of you J,” He praised and could have sworn he saw a faint blush appear on the boy’s cheeks, but it was probably just the chilled wind hitting his face. JJ shrugged “Yeah well,” He moved to grab Pope’s shoulders and shake him “Come on man I’m doing this for you! Party!” He shouted and Pope giggled and moved to cover JJ’s mouth with his hand “Shhhh,” He teased “JJ stop people are staring,” He released JJ’s mouth with a wide smile on his face, but still kept his arms around his friend. “Well yeah, of course they’re staring,” JJ stated without missing a beat “You’re the hottest guy here.”

Pope’s face fell and he let go of JJ. “Why do you always do that?” He mumbled and JJ’s eyes widened. “Wait Pope I’m sorry I-I didn’t mean it like that,” The blonde spoke with panic in his voice. “Yeah JJ I know you didn’t mean it like that, so why the hell did you have to say it?” He shouted “Why do you always have to make me feel like maybe just maybe you might like me back and then rip it away seconds later. If fucking hurts man.” JJ’s mouth gaped open “Like you back?” He whispered. “You like me?” 

“Well duh JJ of course I like you! I’ve always liked you and every time you say that I’m hot or cute or anything else you make it so much harder to get over it so can please for the sake of our friendship just for once in your life shut-” Pope was interrupted by cold hands cupping his cheeks and a warm mouth pressing against his. His eyes widened before he quickly melted into the kiss and wrapping his arms around JJ’s waist. After a few seconds, JJ pulled away for air and too check and make sure Pope didn’t still want to punch him. “Up,” Pope finished his rant with a dazed look in his eyes. 

“I don’t just call anyone hot Heyward. You should know that by now,” JJ smiled and earned a breathy laugh from Pope. “I think people really are staring now,” Pope whispered but didn’t dare look anywhere that wasn’t JJ. “Let em,” JJ whispered back before capturing Pope’s lips once again. 

#maywardweek2020 #Im late im sorry #mayward #jjpope #outer banks

[simp-for-spencer-reid]

Sugar with a Side of Coffee- Ch. 1: The Chance Encounter

Chapter 1: The Chance Encounter Series Masterlist

Cate tied her yellow apron around her waist as she prepared for her first day at the mobile coffee cart. The Empty Mug was a small, family-owned coffee shop located in the midst of a busy Quantico, Virginia. They had decided a new way to increase business would be to take it to the streets, with a coffee cart. The shop was starting to hit its busiest hour of the morning, the pre-work rush. 

“Oh, thank God!” gasped Marta, daughter of the owner of the shop. “You’re just in time!” Marta quickly handed a customer their change and hustled to the backroom where Cate was fixing her name badge on her chest. 

“Couldn’t miss my first day manning the new cart.” Cate smiled at her favorite coworker. The two girls hauled the cart out of the storage closet, which proved to be a feat in itself as it came with a lofty umbrella, the same yellow as their aprons. As they neared the storefront door, a customer on their way in held the door. “Thanks.” Cate pushed out, she couldn’t wait to get the cart outside where she could just wheel it.

Once on the sidewalk, Marta wished Cate goodluck and hurried back into her parent’s coffee shop, to tend to the rest of the customers. Cate shoved the large umbrella into a socket on the top of the cart, and began to set up her station along the busy road.

Despite being surrounded by enormous buildings and skyscrapers, the streets and sidewalks were still quite sunny. Cate wished she hadn’t forgotten her sunglasses in her car. She felt like she was squinting at each customer as they gave her their orders. The umbrella did little to help with the sun, but Cate still had it up anyway, she found that the big yellow parasol attracted more customers. 

Cate saw a variety of people along her street. Many people in suits briskly walked by, some stopping for their morning coffee, it was more convenient to stop at the cart than actually inside for some. Most of these people in suits would be simultaneously talking to their bluetooth ear pieces or their cell phones while they ordered from Cate. 

The only people who hadn’t been on the phone while placing their order were young interns grabbing their office’s coffees for the morning. Her most common intern was Brooke, who was punctual with an order of four drinks: a latte, a hot black, an espresso, and a decaf. Upon her arrival at exactly 8:45, Cate had her orders ready in a tray. Brooke smiled a thanks.

“I’d stay and chat, but there’s a new project we’re working on and our graphic design team really needs this.” She gave a company card to pay and plopped a five in Cate’s tip jar. “Catch ya on my break!” And with that, Brooke just about jogged off, taking care not to spill any of the coffees on her way to her building. 

One of Cate’s favorite things to do was memorize her usual customers’ orders. She took pride that she could have a customer’s coffee prepared as she saw them in line. Cate estimated that she knew about twenty different customer’s orders since she started a few months back. Working in The Empty Mug was something that Cate not only enjoyed, but also made great tips from, especially if she put up with some flirting from businessmen. That in itself is partially the reason she memorized orders; to rush the flirtatious businessmen along and keep their interactions short and sweet. 

Cate watched as a short, stout blonde walked up to the cart with her thick, red rimmed, cat-eye glasses. She had a cell phone in hand but was starting to read a large order to Cate. 

“Okay, hi, I have a lot of orders so I hope you’re ready for it!” the blonde started. She took in a big breath, “I need a cappuccino, and macchiato, a latte with dairy free milk, a large hot with extra extra extra sugar, a medium hot regular, an espresso, and a medium hot black.” She exhaled. 

“Coming right up,” Cate smiled. “Do you need those labeled?” Cate grabbed a marker, just in case.

“Oh, yes please,” She smiled graciously. “The cappuccino needs to be PG, the macchiato EP, the latte JJ, the large extra is SR, the regular is AH, the espresso is CT and the black is DR. Thank you very much!” Cate pushed buttons on her register.

“Your total comes to 14.68.” Cate was handed a twenty and the blonde insisted on putting the change into her tip jar. “Thank you, I like your glasses.” Cate smiled.

“Thanks! Bought them on the web.” Cate handed the blonde customer two drink trays and watched as the blonde carried one on top of the other. 

“If you spill those on your way, just come see me and I can make you new ones.” Cate said nervously. She wasn’t supposed to do that, but it was a lot to carry for one person. 

“Noted,” the blonde smiled, and bustled off to whatever job she was off to.

Penelope just about flew out of the elevator and into the bullpen. Emily helped set the top tray of coffees down onto the desk next to the copying machine. 

“They’re all labeled with your initials!” Penelope exclaimed. “From the new coffee cart station, part of The Empty Mug.” Emily was twisting the cups, looking for her initials. 

“CT?” Emily questioned.

“Chocolate Thunder.” Penelope huskily replied, passing it to Derek, who had walked up to retrieve his order. Spencer quickly approached the desk, and plucked the biggest cup from the tray, knowing he had the largest order of the bunch. 

“This coffee might just be the best I’ve had.” Emily said after she took a sip of her macchiato. “We should try to order from here more often.” 

J.J. was walking in and grabbed hers before beelining to Hotchner’s office. Hotch called a meeting to discuss the next case, and just like that the unit sat around the round table drinking their coffees from their new favorite shop. 

It was just about 1:30, a half hour before Cate was meant to close her cart and head back to the shop to finish her shift. She tied her hair up into a ponytail at the back of her head, instead of half up like before. The sun was making it hot standing on the busy street. She moved around to the front of her cart to put away the chalkboard menu sign. She twisted a lid back onto her tip jar and knelt to check her stock of creamers, and sugars and flavors on a shelf. Cate would have to make a note to restock her sugar jar. Between all the typical sugar in a coffee and that large coffee which might as well have been a cup of straight sugar, her typical supply had been depleted.  

“You know the cart was very convenient.” Brooke mentioned to Cate, scaring her in the process. “The line was a lot shorter than going into the shop.” Brooke smiled, leaning her elbows onto the cart. Cate stood up, adjusting her apron and pushing her hair out of her face.

“Well I’m glad to hear that.” Cate was still fussing with the different coffee pots on her cart shelves. 

“Need help bringing this bad boy back to the shop?” Brooke was already grabbing one side of the cart.

“Yes, please!” Cate exhaled. 

Cate came home with almost one hundred dollars in tips, her half of the split tips between her and Marta. She just about ripped her shoes off at the door, letting them thud to the ground as she greeted her small, light orange cat. Changing out of her uniform, and into some leggings and her college sweatshirt, Cate could take a quick nap before cleaning her apartment. 

As soon as Cate had laid down on her couch, her phone chimed, alerting her of a text message. 

Marta: tell me you don’t have plans friday night

Cate sighed before typing her response, I should finish up my lesson plan project, but I have a feeling you want to go out.

Marta: it’s like you can read my mind… let’s go down to the pub and celebrate the new cart :)

Cate’s phone beeped again.

Marta: Pleeeeeeeease??

Cate laughed to herself before typing back, You’re lucky I love you.

Cate stretched as she woke up for another early day working The Empty Mug’s coffee cart. Her little orange cat, Shrimp, stood by her side, watching her intently with his green eyes.

“Let me guess,” Cate pet Shrimp’s head, “Your bowl is empty.” Shrimp mewed up at her, and jumped off the bed and scurried to his food in the kitchen. Cate followed her little cat to the kitchen. “What would I do without my personal, fuzzy alarm?” Shrimp impatiently rubbed his head against Cate’s ankles. Cate grabbed his cat food from her cabinet, and put three scoops into his bowl. 

Cate let Shrimp crunch away as she walked back to her bedroom. She pulled out her usual uniform, which consisted of a white button up, her choice of black or tan pants, and the signature yellow apron. Taking this pile of clothes into the bathroom, Cate ran the hot water to the shower and brushed her teeth. 

After a refreshing shower and changing into her uniform, Cate grabbed her purse and put her shoes on in the makeshift mudroom bench in the hallway of her apartment. Making a quick run to her kitchen to grab an apple from her fruit bowl, she snatched her keys from the counter and was out the door. 

Typically, Cate would take the stairs from her third floor apartment, but decided to take the elevator today. There was something in the air today that made Cate feel unusually on edge. The walk to The Empty Mug went by faster than normal, most likely due to Cate’s quick pace. Upon her entry to the shop, Marta gave Cate her usual smile. 

“Ready for your second day?” Marta said cheerily. No customers had entered the store yet, so Cate and Marta could take their time bringing the cart from the back of the shop. 

“I’ve had a weird feeling this morning.” Cate confessed. “I can’t shake it.” She pushed the cart through the door. 

“Oh,” Marta furrowed her brows. “Want to switch? I’ll take the cart and you can have the shop?” 

“No, no. That’s okay.” Cate sighed. “I got it.” She forced a smile. Suddenly, she remembered, “Shit, I need to refill the sugar before I go out!” Cate ran behind the counter and grabbed an unopened canister to refill the jar once at the location. 

“Alright, well, text me if you need me.” Marta shrugged. The girls successfully got the cart and umbrella out of the front door before any customers managed to come by. 

“Yes, captain!” Cate laughed and made her way down the street to the spot designated for the cart. She set up the umbrella, positioned her chalk menu- not before jotting a coffee pun on it- and knelt to refill her sugar behind the cart.

People jostled by and before she knew it, Cate was in the middle of the morning rush just as she was the day before. As she was behind the countertop of the cart, she heard a man’s voice.

“Are you open yet?” he sounded in a rush. When Cate peeked up from behind the cart, the man was looking at his phone, fingers typing away on some text or email, she guessed. 

“Yes sir,” Cate brushed her hands on the sides of her apron. “What can I get for you?” She smiled, even though the man hadn’t bothered to look up from his phone.

“A large regular, and a danish” he spoke, nose still in his phone. 

“You got it!” Cate said in the most unnaturally cheery voice. She prepped his coffee, and pulled his danish from under a glass cover. “Comes up to 4.18” Cate pushed buttons on her register. The man shoved a five at her and walked away without his change. Cate put it into her tip jar, hoping the rest of her day would be filled with better customers.

Today’s shift was getting better and better. Brooke stopped by earlier with the same promise of stopping by later on her break. Customers had overall been tipping well, Cate’s jar was getting fuller and fuller. The line of customers would deplete as Cate took their orders, but as soon as it dwindled, more people lined up. On the lower end of a swell of customers, Cate had a few new faces. Next up, was a kid in his late teens. His fingers jittered along the counter top as he rested his hands on the cart.

“I’ll have a medium cold brew with an almond swirl. Can I also get a slice of banana bread?” Cate smiled and nodded. When Cate turned her back to make the coffee, the teen made a grab for the tip jar and began running off.

“He’s got your tip jar!” the next woman in line yelled. Cate didn’t know what to do, this had never happened before. Her hands began to shake and she felt tears of frustration build in her eyes. You’ve got to be kidding me, she thought.

There was another man behind the woman who leapt into action and started chasing the thief. Cate watched as they ran through the opposite direction of the current of people on the street. The man in pursuit shouted.

“FBI, stop running!” The thief’s gait faltered. This gave the agent just enough of a stride to grab the thief by the collar of his jacket. “Drop the jar, and I’ll pretend I never saw anything.” the agent ordered. The thief shoved the jar into the agent’s hand and took off running.

Cate swiped her teary eyes with the back of her hand before the agent could approach her cart. She was shaken up and didn’t know what to do or say. 

“I believe this is yours.” the agent handed Cate her glass jar filled with money. He was tall, with long hair. Cate gently took the jar and placed it behind her counter. No amount of money was worth risking that again. 

“Uh, thanks” Cate said shakily. “You really saved my ass, there.” Cate tried to joke. The agent pursed his lips together and went back to his spot in line. The woman before him thankfully had a short and sweet order, allowing Cate to relax her racing heart and thoughts. The agent stepped up next in line. “What can I get for you? It’s on the house.” Cate smiled at him.  “Can I, uh, get a medium hot black but can you put it in a large sized cup so I can put my own sugar in it?” He looked nervous for requesting such an odd order.  “Of course, not a problem” Cate got to work filling a large hot cup about three quarters full. She handed the agent his coffee and also the sugar dispenser. In the same exchange, he passed her a ten dollar bill. “For the wasted order, and a tip.” He smiled nervously at her. Cate placed the ten in her register, and watched as he poured about half of the sugar into his coffee.  “I remember your order.” Cate spoke before she realized she thought out loud. “Pardon?” he looked quizzically at Cate.“Sorry, yesterday someone came by and ordered a large hot with an insane amount of sugar, I just refilled today and you’ve already gone through half of it. You might as well just order a cup of sugar with a side of coffee.” Cate rambled with a smile. “Um,” he paused, lost for words. “Sorry.” he came up with.“It’s fine. It’s meant to be used, right?” Cate felt herself blush. So that’s S.R. she thought to herself.  

#sugar with a side of coffee fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

[birbleafs]

[fic] It’s A Matter Of (In)Convenience

Series: Saiki Kusuo no Ψ-nan || The Disastrous Life of Saiki K. Rating: T Genre: Humour, Breaking The Fourth Wall Character(s): Saiki Kusuo, Aiura Mikoto, Toritsuka Reita, Kaidou Shun, Kuboyasu Aren, Nendou Riki, Yumehara Chiyo, Teruhashi Kokomi Warnings: None, save for canon-typical shenanigans Summary: Saiki Kusuo’s plan for a quiet Sunday spent shopping for desserts in an ordinary konbini is thrown into disarray when he runs into several… inconveniences, much to his dismay. A/N: I've been re-reading/re-watching Saiki K. during this quarantine period and I haven't laughed this hard since I was into Gintama. This series has given me so much ridiculous joy, it’s great for helping keep anxiety and existential despair at bay lol. Fic can also be read on AO3

_______

Saiki Kusuo could not say he dislikes commuting by public train but he’s not particularly a fan of it either. After all, it’s exceedingly more troublesome and vexing for someone like him, encumbered with psychic abilities beyond human comprehension. He’s unable to switch off his telepathy at will, so it’s no small feat being stuck in a packed cabin and trying to filter out the cacophonous thoughts of fifty-odd passengers buzzing incessantly in his mind throughout the long ride to the next town. Distance isn’t an issue today, however. Not that it had ever been an issue, mind you—he could teleport to almost any location he so wished. But Kusuo had long since mastered inconspicuousness into an art form, and teleporting to his destination and appearing seemingly out of thin air in the middle of a packed convenience store was sure to draw unwanted attention to himself. No, it’s not worth the risk, even for such a coveted goal at the end of his journey. Besides, Kusuo is a man of principle, one who does not easily succumb to using his powers for self-interest. He will do this the ordinary, pedestrian way.

In any case, travelling out of Hidariwakibara-chō to neighbouring Tonari Machi on a random Sunday morning would also mean the chances of him running into certain... inconveniences are very nearly zero. Forty-five minutes and twelve stops later, Kusuo beams in quiet triumph as he walks past the automatic sliding doors and into the aforementioned convenience store, barely registering the musical jiggle over the speakers. He steps through the sparse crowd, pausing midway through the snack and desserts aisle when he finally catches sight of the neat row of orange boxes with silver trimmings on the top shelf. Kusuo allows himself a tiny grin as he reaches for a box, eyes bright with anticipation as he gazes upon its wondrous contents—three cups of chocolate brownie and cherry parfait, infused with coffee jelly and topped with dollops of luscious cream and cinnamon sprinkles. A simple but unmatched delicacy right here in this nondescript konbini, he thinks, savouring the glorious moment a little longer. Still, as fate would have it, he would be reminded in less than ten seconds that his life is but an unfortunate series of daily disasters, and his current reprieve short-lived. And it comes in the form of a young woman who had waltzed through the crowd and is now latching onto his arm with garishly pink manicured nails, her wavy blonde hair already casting a dark cloud over Kusuo’s face. Aiura Mikoto, resident soothsayer and trendsetter gal. Inconvenience No. 1. Ah. So it begins. “Wassup, Kusuo!” Aiura chirps a little too brightly. Already two or three mob characters in the konbini are throwing scandalized looks their way, but to Aiura they’re nothing but background scenery and lazily drawn silhouettes. “Who woulda thunk we’d meet here like this? It must totes be our destiny as soul mates, fer sure!” Isn’t it more because someone is totes a stalker? Kusuo deadpans telepathically her way, even as he makes no real attempt to avoid Aiura’s smothering embrace. Instead, he fixes her with a stare as blank as stone canvas. This is an invasion of privacy. Also, what’s with the meta observation in the previous paragraph? Stop messing with the readers like that. “Man, you sure are a ray of sunshine sometimes,” Aiura pouts, before she breaks into a giggle and relents. She unlatches herself from him, putting some distance between them. “Anyway, can’t your BFF like, just accidentally bump into you while shopping for the same box of snacks you no doubt travelled all the way out here for?” So you admit you really are a stalker then, Kusuo counters drily, only to frown again at the sudden creeping presence of another aura. He feels the weight of another arm draping carelessly over his shoulder, followed by the brusque yapping of an over-eager and desperate hot-blooded young male in his ears. “Yooo, Saiki-san! What a coincidence!” Toritsuka Reita, the spirit medium and an exemplary specimen of the most depraved life-form, the lecherous scum. Also known as Inconvenience No. 2. Saiki Kusuo, a man most unfortunate, lets out a weary sigh. “I see you’ve got that accusatory glare painted all over your face.” Toritsuka wags an annoying finger before Kusuo. “Now, now. Before you also accuse me of stalking, Mister Doom and Gloom, let me just say that I’m only here for one thing.” He flicks a furtive glance towards a discreet corner of the magazine section. The shelves are filled with magazines wrapped in plastic, large R-18 stickers plastered across the covers and over the spines much like indecent warning signs. Toritsuka dabs towards the third shelf, waving a mini poster at both Kusuo and Aiura, and this sentence then abruptly proceeds to describe the close-up of said poster—a particularly titillating centre spread featuring a curvaceous model’s skimpily clad... assets. “Surely there’s no better reason to be here now than for the special compilation of EROmag’s Greatest Upskirts And Panty-shots Of The Month!” Toritsuka exclaims, echoing the thoughts of all resident perverts. “Ugh, grody to the max,” Aiura says, lips curled in utter revulsion. For once, the stars are aligned and Kusuo finds himself wholeheartedly agreeing with her sentiment. Before he can get a retort in edgewise however, he’s unceremoniously tugged closer into Toritsuka’s one-armed embrace, who then proceeds to thump a hand over Kusuo’s chest in a grand show of obnoxious male posturing and solidarity. “You women will never understand,” Toritsuka counters with an ingratiating smirk. “But Saiki-san and I, we’re bosom buddies, connoisseurs of refined aesthetics. Together, we’ll finally gaze upon those heavenly lace panti—A-ACKK!!” He hacks up a lung just as Kusuo nonchalantly drives a sharp elbow right into his solar plexus, causing him to stagger backwards onto the floor. Bosom buddies? Kusuo echoes ominously, glaring daggers at the pathetic writhing form before him. Pretty sure that ridiculous thump you just pulled is both an outrage and insult of my modesty. Hey, can I call the police? I’m calling the police. Aiura nods at that, lips curved into a Cheshire grin and looking extremely pleased with herself as though she’s the one to suggest calling the cops. “Delusional sleazebags should just crawl back into the garbage bin where they belong. Like the skeevy trash panda that they are, right Kusuo?” “Who are you calling delusional, huh?!” Toritsuka snaps, jumping back to his feet. “I’ll have you know that Saiki-san and I have been nothing but the most loyal, the tightest of all bosom buddies—” Refer to me as your bosom buddy again and I’ll crush your windpipe, Kusuo interjects without missing a beat, and the EROmag poster in Toritsuka’s hand spontaneously combusts into flames. “Argh, not the panties!!” Toritsuka yelps, watching in despair as the poster shrivels up in the blaze, only to catch sight of the eerie, voidless depths of Kusuo’s inscrutable gaze. The spirit medium pales at the split-second reminder of his fleeting mortality, sweat dripping down his nape as he carefully backs away from the precarious jaws of death. “B-B-Bros! I-I meant that we’re the best kind of bro-some buddies, ahahaha! T-That is to say, brotherly and wholesome—R-right, Saiki-san? So don’t get all conceited just because you’ve got big knockers, Tits McGee!!” “Pfft, brotherly and wholesome? As if!” Aiura scoffs, unimpressed. “You’re about as wholesome as your d*ck aura and a college frat boy’s porno stash. Just admit you ain’t nothing but a tiresome anime trope!” “Look who’s talking, Miss Fanservice. This is a wholesome shounen series, so how about you take those bazongas back to Hooters where they belong!” “Haaah? You looking for a fight, you raunchy racoon?!” “Bring it on then!” Kusuo scowls at the petty squabbling, exasperated at how easily his quiet Sunday was already going awry, much like the metaphorical train wreck poised for a manic spiral off its rails. He decides to take his leave then from the two inconveniences bickering loudly, making his way towards the self-checkout station near the entrance. He pays for his items, stealthily packing them away with a subtle flick of his psychokinesis, and is only a few paces away from complete freedom at last when the generic musical jingle blares from the speakers overhead. “♪~Welcome to F☆mily Mart Konbini, We Guarantee 99.9% Shopping Satisfaction! It’s A Matter of Convenience~! ♪” Kusuo frowns at the jingle. Why is it only 99.9% satisfaction? And really, a matter of convenience? Not when he’d already run into two inconveniences in a row and all in a convenience store. Is God conspiring with the universe and pulling a sick prank on him right now? What a horrible sense of humour. The automatic doors at the entrance slide wide open then, and in saunter three terribly familiar faces—Kaidou Shun, Kuboyasu Aren, and Nendou Riki. Inconvenience No. 3, No. 4, and No. 5 respectively. “What did I tell you, Aren? Not only did we manage to beat traffic, but this unexpected change in my Sunday routine would’ve thrown a wrench into Dark Reunion’s plans of attempted kidnapping. Too bad I, The Jet-Black Wing, am always several steps ahead. Heh.” “Uhmm, yeah I guess… Hey, Shun, look! There isn’t a queue for the limited edition Ginta-Man figurine raffle tickets here at all. Good thing you insisted we meet at the crack of dawn—Tch, Nendou, don’t dawdle around and block the entrance like that! What’re you looking at anyway?” “Oh? I thought I saw my pal just a few seconds ago...” “Huh, Saiki’s here too-?! Oh, you mean that. Don’t be daft, Nendou, that’s just a cardboard cut-out of that kiddie hero show, Cyborg Cider-man Mark II.” Seriously?? Kusuo curses irritably as he dives inconspicuously out of sight from the passing trio, right into the bath and shampoo aisle. It’s just been a series of inconveniences one after another this morning, the metaphorical train wreck already hurtling itself past the edge of no return. Good grief, what a pain. May as well have the rest of the cast show up next— Another cheesy musical jingle, another swoosh of the sliding doors, and— “Waahh, it’s really you, Kaidou-kun!” “Hello, what a nice surprise to run into everyone here.” “Oh, hey there, Yumehara and... Offu~! T-T-Teruhashi-san?!” Saiki Kusuo, ever the suffering protagonist, drags a hand over his face. See? God hates him. Two aisles over, he can still hear Aiura and Toritsuka’s voices drifting over: “Man, I’m sick of looking at your pervy mug. C’mon, Kusuo, let’s ditch this loser—Huh, where did you run off to, Kusuo?!” “Your petty squawking has given us all an earache and must’ve driven Saiki-san off as well!” Oi, oi, Kusuo flinches inwardly, seized by a helpless fear of watching his quiet Sunday careening off the cliff and further away from his grasp. Quit yelling out my name like that and throwing me to the wolves already! Too late. At the mention of Kusuo’s name, Nendou cranes his neck 270 degrees Exorcist-style like a hideously monstrous owl and rushes over to Toritsuka’s side. “Oh! Did you just say my pal is here?!” he exclaims happily, shaking Toritsuka by the shoulders like a dog shaking an unfortunate chew toy. “I knew I’d seen him when we walked in earlier!” Not to be outdone by Nendou, Teruhashi also leaps forward before Aiura with none of her previous composure, her unblemished, porcelain visage now dusted with a hint of rose, a conflicted mix of perplexity and (envious) shock pooling in her angelic eyes. “D-Did you say ‘Saiki’?! H-Hey, Aiura-san, you did say ‘Saiki’ and not actually ‘Kusuo’, right? M-My, I must have misheard things, right? R-Right?!” “What the heck is going on? Is Saiki really here?” Anxious, Kusuo grits his teeth at the growing clamour as his friends converge from all corners of the store towards the aisle where he’d been forced to hide. Guess there’s no avoiding it after all, he frets despairingly, and in less than a nanosecond, teleports unnoticed from the konbini to an empty street outside. Kusuo sighs, relieved to have finally escaped. Minor inconveniences aside, perhaps a quiet Sunday spent savouring chocolate brownie and cherry parfait in the comfort of his home isn’t beyond his reach yet. What? Didn’t he just use his powers for self-interest to teleport out of a sticky situation? Foolish readers, that was for self-preservation and completely acceptable, of course. He holds his shopping bag close, pleased that he’d managed to avoid a disaster, and begins to walk down the street—only to freeze mid-step when he feels a sudden splitting headache jolt through him… A flash of images appears: Aiura and Toritsuka crouching in fear together, Kuboyasu bracing his bleeding arm, Kaidou screaming shrilly as he shields Yumehara and Teruhashi from a masked man brandishing a gun, Nendou digging his nose with his pinky—That’s just disgusting, no one wants to see that, stop it!! The vision finally ends, and Kusuo lifts a hand to his face, massaging his temple to clear the precognitive fog from his mind. An armed robbery, huh. He lets out another resigned sigh. Good grief—What a pain, Saiki ‘I-don’t-(but I actually really do)-care-about-my-friends’ Kusuo mutters internally in annoyance, even as he yeets himself head-first into other people’s business and right back into the convenience store to stop a future robbery. Still he smiles, eyes soft with perhaps the slightest flicker of affection for this dysfunctional bunch of people in his disastrous life. Someone has to protect them and save the day, after all.

  –End–

#saiki kusuo no psi nan #the disastrous life of saiki k. #saiki kusuo #aiura mikoto #toritsuka reita #fanfic #too lazy to tag all the characters here #this show's over the top ridiculousness and crack is 10/10 my type of comedy #i love it lol

[gredandforge01]

Bucky Barnes: Kidnapped [pt.1]

Part 1 | Part 2

PLOT: You are kidnapped by none other then the Winter Soldier himself by HYDRA's orders but as a snow storm comes through, you have to bunk with the James Buchanan Barnes for 2 weeks. In that time, you develop feelings for one another.

•••

You make your way down the stairs, throwing your hair up in a quick messy bun before journeying through your living room to get to your kitchen. The sunlight comes through the tinted curtains and splays out across the island counter as you grab a coffee mug and start to brew the coffee that your brain is yearning you to take immediately.

As you wait for the coffee, you go over to your sofa and grab the blanket off it before folding it and placing it neatly back on the teal material. You smile for some unknown reason and make your way back over to the kitchen, pouring yourself the hot coffee into the mug.

You pad your way over to your veranda and open the glass sliding down, stepping outside and onto the wooden planks beneath you. Breathing in the fresh air, you look around at the tall trees covered in snow that surrounded your house. To the left of your veranda, there was an outdoor sofa with a single chair and some lushes winter plants that you make a mental note to remember to water later on. On the right, was the outdoor dining table and chairs that you make your way over to.

Grabbing the book you left on there, you set yourself down on the chair and begin to read.

You were currently on a vacation from your day job, a SHIELD agent. You had injured your leg and arm in an accident involving the new arising issue to America (well, returning issue), and that is HYDRA. Fury said you could take as much time off as necessary to ensure you were healthy again to do your job.

As a result, he let you use the vacation house deep in the woods, far from everywhere and he knew you'd be safe there if the issue continues to rise overtime. You weren't complaining, of course, you get a huge two story (basement and attic included) house, four master bedrooms with medium sized en suites, a study room, two sunrooms, large open plan lounge, dining and kitchen along with a big gym room. Overall, you could injure yourself everyday if it ended up like this.

Once you finish your coffee and book, you get up and make your way over to the kitchen again to wash your dishes and put the dry ones away.

Finishing up, you turn and something moves in the corner of your eye, you frown and turn your head, instinctively moving towards it. You step outside again but see that it's only the plant moving around in the cold wind.

Sighing, you move back around again but you get knocked to the ground. You gasp as you land in the snow, before getting up as fast as you could. A man jumps from the railing and towards you and your eyes widen, only then do you realise you have nothing to defend yourself with. You silently curse and start to move towards the back door to get inside and lock it but the man grabs you by the hair and pulls you back into the snow.

He straddles your waist, "get off me!" You yell. Only then do you see his features, he wore mainly black leather, covering his body and straps around his waist that held two knifes and a gun. He wore a mask, concealing his face.

He goes to punch you but you block with with your injured left arm and cry out as his fist comes in contact with it. He grabs your arm and pins it down before raising his other hand that shines dully into your eyes. You notice it was metal and before he could hit you with that, you manage to twist around so you were straddling him.

His left arm comes up around your throat and you find it hard to breath as he was cutting off your oxygen. He throws you off him and you groan as you hit your head hard on the wooden floorboards. In front of you, you see the blurry figure of the man moving towards you but the darkness creeping in the corners of your eyes makes you unable to move.

He bends down and picks you up bridal style and you fall unconscious in his arms.

×××

Shivering, you open your eyes and am met with nothing but a back of a chair and the freezing temperature. Fright overcomes you and you sat up quickly, knocking your head on the railing beside you.

"Where are you taking me?" You ask, hoarsely to the man in the front who was driving. You recognized him as your kidnapper.

He doesn't say anything but continues to drive and you look around at your surroundings. You were in a van by the looks of it and your hands and feet were restrained in ropes, which were wrapped around the railing beside your head so you couldn't escape.

Over the course of working with SHIELD, you had been scared of nothing, but this made you shake. The man who was practically a foot taller than you, had a death look in his eyes, his stance was terrifying and to top it all off, he had a metal arm which could possibly crush you at any given time.

"P- please, just let me go. I don't know what you want from me, I know nothing of what SHIELD is doing. I injured myself and so have nothing to do with this. Please, just let me go." At the end, your voice was shaky, your eyes quickly filled with tears at the thought of dying at the hands of this maniac.

Just the thought of never being able to see your friends again made you feel uneasy, the thought of never seeing your family again made you sob. You didn't want to die, you were only young and helping the world change for the better, but instead the world came back and bit you... hard. What did you do to deserve this?

The man's eyes looked at you through the mirror and the intense glare he gave you made your eyes advert to the floor of the van. "Please... don't kill me." You whisper, ever so quietly but the man heard you and pulled over on the side of the road.

Fear quickly engulfed you as he jumped out of the van and around to the back.

He swung the door open with force and you shriek, moving back and trying to squish yourself closer to the back of the front seat; almost wishing you would vanish through it. "Please, please don't hurt me! I'll do anything! Please!" You were screaming and tears ran down your cold cheeks.

He got in the back of the van and grabbed both of your hands, getting his knife out.

You were kicking, trying to get him off you. "Stop! Please, I'll do anything for you! Please don't hurt me! No, stop!" You continued to scream, your throat becoming sore.

You sobbed, closing your eyes and turning your head away from him, not wanting him to see the SHIELD agent so terrified of dying. That's what you signed up for when joining SHIELD.

The pain never came but instead, you felt the rope around your hands being cut off. You turned to him wide eyes, watching him intently as he started to cut the rope around your wrists.

When he finished that, he started on your ankles and before he knew it, he had cut you free. Only then do you realise that he was straddling your waist, his face close to yours. He stared at you for a long while.

As much as you wished, you couldn't stop your hands coming up to his mask and gently pulling the object away from his face. You were terribly surprised that he looked gorgeous under it.

But what amazed you the most is that he didn't flinch from your touch and you cup his jaw softly in your hands. In that moment, you knew that he wasn't really like this, there was something behind his eyes that expressed that.

He then pulled away quickly and his eyes went back to the hard look, the one that frightened you before and he left the back of the van.

You breathed out, not knowing what overcame you in that short moment but you felt positive about it.

You knew that he wasn't actually this murderer or otherwise he would have killed you by now. You knew he was something more than that, someone who was good and you made it your mission to fulfill that quest.

×××

The drive didn't exactly go how he originally planned. The snowfall had increased and a storm was starting to take place. He couldn't drive anymore has the snow become too high on the ground and so found an abandoned building off to the side of the road.

You hadn't talked since that awkward encounter and you were slightly glad. He didn't look so deadly anymore but more confused with himself, always stealing glances at you through the mirror before looking back at the road again.

Currently, you were being held by the back of your neck as the man walked you both into the deserted building.

As nightfall came over, you were shivering violently as the the cold wind of the snow storm came through the cracked windows in the small cottage.

The man, on the other hand, was perfectly fine. He was laying across from you, on his side with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes closed, trying to fall asleep. You could tell you were annoying him by the small crease between his eyebrows everytime you shivered or moved.

You were getting frustrated with the cold and rolled so you were facing away from him, curling up into a tight ball to try and keep whatever warmth you had left, but it was no used. You started to cry quietly from your frustrations, having enough of this weather.

Suddenly, you felt a heavy arm wrap around your middle and bring you closer to the man behind you. You visually tense as he rests his head between your shoulder blades.

To say you weren't comfortable would be an understatement, because you were. What came out next was something that made you surprised, "sleep." It was quiet and hoarse but you heard him say it. One word, but it was something.

You didn't say anything back as you closed your eyes and slowly relaxed in his arms. His warmth spread across your body like a virus and you felt content laying there.

Slowly, you felt yourself drift off into sleep and you smiled slightly. Maybe being here with him, stuck in a snowstorm with nowhere to go for at least 1 week wouldn't be as terrible as you thought.

#bucky x y/n #steve x bucky #bucky angst #bucky #bucky barnes #winter soldier #winter solider fanfiction #winter solider x reader #winter solider drabble #winter soldier smut #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes smut #winter #james #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #mcu #mcu imagines #mcu smut #steve x reader #stevebucky #steve rogers #steve x tony #tony stark #captain america

[the-hidden-writer]

A Second Chance: Chapter 4

An Ace Attorney fanfic. Read on both AO3 and FF.net!

Summary: Miles learns the identity of his “dead” mother, and the aftermath of that revelation is a tricky one. Especially when his newfound little sister is trying to turn him into a spirit medium.

AKA Miles is a Fey. Miles also doesn’t really know how to family properly.

[Chapter 1] | [Chapter 2] | [Chapter 3]

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The Great Beverage Debate

It had been one hell of a day. Early in the morning, Maya had made a bet with Phoenix to see if he’d get a new case by noon since he was an “unstoppable famous lawyer hero” now. Or something like that. Point is, they didn’t get any new cases, and Maya won the bet. 

At first, Maya had begged to be fed fancy meals for a week. Phoenix had ended up refusing that one (his funds were slowly dying…) and agreed to clean the office’s floor instead.

He didn’t mind too much. It was oddly therapeutic. 

So when Edgeworth appeared at his door, wearing something other than his prosecutor’s suit for once, he’d been immediately taken off guard. Since his face was already flushed from scrubbing so hard, he’d hoped that he wouldn’t notice him blushing. He thinks he got away with that one.

He never saw the reveal coming. Again, he felt like an idiot for not even suspecting it a bit, but he should've taken the news a bit better. Thinking back, he might've sacred Edgeworth off with the way he reacted.

That luckily didn't happen though, and that's how he'd ended up sitting opposite the man at a small table in a café known as "Sugar & Spice". 

Since Edgeworth had offered to get the drinks, and judging by the way he had begun to sip it almost desperately, Phoenix had a suspicion that he'd ordered tea after all.

They'd walked from Wright & Co. Law Offices, barely talking to one another as he led the way. Phoenix had noticed that Edgeworth looked slightly confused when they passed more local coffee shops, which would have saved half the walking time, but he had his reasons for going the extra distance.

"Mia used to come here a lot." He said, snapping Edgeworth out of his window-gazing trance.

"She'd bring me along often enough but I'd see her in here almost every day." He continued wistfully. He missed her.

Edgeworth took another (more gentle) sip of his cup. "It would make sense." He muttered. "She used to work at Grossberg's, correct? It's probably a habit from then."

Ah, trust Edgeworth to always think one step ahead of him.

Now Phoenix was a bit stuck. When he'd offered to get coffee what felt like ages ago, he wasn't sure what he was expecting. To get to know each other better? To spend some time together? Maybe he was just being polite. It was just… seeing him appear out of nowhere like that…

"You look good." He blurted out suddenly. Edgeworth raised an eyebrow. 

"N-No, I mean," he gestured in the prosecutor's general direction, "It's nice to see you wearing something other than a suit for a change. You look great like that."

And he did. His white shirt surprisingly didn't clash against his pale skin, and his pants complimented it perfectly. And he still managed to look so professional. Honestly, he never understood work casual before now.

"Believe it or not, Wright, but I am a human being as well as a lawyer." Edgeworth said in a dry tone that betrayed how tired he actually was.

"Really?" Phoenix replied sarcastically. "I never would've guessed."

Despite his attempt to lighten the mood, Edgeworth didn't smile. In fact, his frown only deepened.

"You know Maya, don't you?"

The only problem with Miles always being ahead of him, is that Phoenix had no idea where their conversations would go.

"Um, yeah? You know her too, though."

Edgeworth shook his head. "No, I mean… you know her well. You're the living person that's closest to her." He paused, and sighed quietly. "What are her interests? Her favourite foods?"

Those were probably rhetorical questions, but Phoenix felt like it would be too awkward if he didn't answer anyway.

"Well she's way too obsessed with Steel Samurai and will eat literally anything that's edible. But she does pester me for burgers most of the time."

He could've sworn Edgeworth smiled, just for a second, but it disappeared so quickly that it was hard to tell.

"See?" He said, as if proving a point that was obvious to only him. "I should know these things! Being a brother comes with responsibilities, and I've neglected those for what, 19 years?" He groaned in frustration. "I wish this had never happened…"

Phoenix looked at him with determined but soft eyes. "You can't neglect something if you didn't know it existed." He stated firmly. "Don't bring yourself down over something you can't control."

The man just sipped his probably-tea.

“When did you find out?” He asked eventually, once Miles was reaching the end of his… British-beverage.

He just frowned, then let out a small sigh. “It was only yesterday evening, but it feels like a year ago. But no, it still hasn’t settled.”

“You told Gumshoe before me?” Phoenix teased, half-joking.

Edgeworth scoffed. “He’s the one who found out first, believe it or not. I’m…” He paused for a moment, not meeting his rival in the eyes. “I’m rather glad that it was him first.”

“Yeah, he’s good at that sort of thing. Breaking news, I mean.”

“If not for anything else.”

For the first time since leaving the office, both men laughed. Phoenix felt a stab of guilt for making fun of Gumshoe, but if Miles was even slightly happy then he was happy. He was still playing host after all, even if he wasn’t the one paying for the drinks.

"I'm sorry, I'm not the best person to talk to about sibling stuff." He admitted. “I think he has a sister? Gumshoe. You could always talk to him.”

There, he felt a bit better now. He could sleep peacefully.

“N-No, that’s alright.” Miles answered, though still sounding quite unsure. “He’s done enough already.”

“Hey, speaking of Gumshoe…” Phoenix had been meaning to bring this up since the moment it was mentioned, but knew that Edgeworth would be too prickly to answer. Hopefully the definitely-not-coffee had softened him up.

Miles waited for him to continue, but Phoenix noticed that he looked nervous. And he knew when Edgeworth was nervous, from all the time they spent as kids- not to mention in court.

“...he said something about a letter.” He finished, before hastily adding: “It sounded important.” when Miles almost broke his cup in surprise.

“I-It was nothing!” Miles spluttered.

“Yeah, sure.” Phoenix said. “And I guess this is the part where you forget that I have a magic stone that tells me when you’re hiding something?”

Sure enough, ever since Gumshoe’s… dramatic arrival back at the office, a large red psyche-lock had encased itself around Edgeworth. It wasn’t the first (when he’d used his magatama on others, he’d always notice the large number of locks surrounding his friend but never knew how to bring it up), however it was the first time he’d watch one form right before his eyes. Which meant it was purposely being hidden from him specifically, and not one of the many things that Edgeworth bottled inside of him.

He almost felt horrible after he saw the horror flash across Edgeworth’s face in that moment, and his posture suddenly became defensive. 

...Again, he knew too well what that looked like.

“Damned spiritual nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense, and you know it.” Phoenix countered before draining the remains of his actual-coffee.

“I mean, you literally used it the other week, didn’t you?”

Edgeworth said nothing, which he took as a confirmation.

“It’s weird, right? Sometimes I wonder if Mia ever used it. I mean, she wore one around her neck, and mine had to be charged for me to be able to use it because I’m not a Fey or anything-”

“Hold on,” Miles interrupted, suddenly alert. “For you to be able to use it?”

Now Phoenix was confused. “Yeah? I think? Pearl taught me how to use it, but even then it kinda took some practise.” He smiled fondly at the memory. “Even now I still have to remind Maya that not everyone was born with spiritual powers, y’know?”

Edgeworth waited.

“Oh, you mean-”

“Just another reason I should have realised the obvious sooner.” Miles said, his tone dripping with exhaustion. “I was shocked when they appeared out of nowhere.” He scoffed. “Thought I was finally going mad.”

The excuse that Edgeworth had been working late came to Phoenix’s mind, and he felt a pang of guilt. The guy had gone through a lot, and had probably not slept, and now he was interrogating him. 

“I’m sorry for asking.” He sighed, trying his best to sound genuine. Because he was.

“No, no, it’s okay.” Said Miles, before putting down his cup and sitting up straight. 

“The letter was in the box that Detective Gumshoe found, along with those photographs. It was addressed to me, and-”

“To you?”

“Don’t interrupt, Wright. Judging by the tone of the letter and some of the specifics mentioned, it seems like it was written by Misty Fey quite soon after DL-6. It was a vaguely detailed account of her expressing her sympathies and telling me the truth about who she was, though by the way it was stored it appears she had no intention of ever sending it.”

That wasn’t what Phoenix had been expecting. Alright, so he didn’t know exactly what he was expecting, but it was not this.

“So…” He said, trying to stop his new grin from spreading, “...no forbidden love letters from your parents? Romeo And Juliet style?”

He regretted that comparison as soon as it came out of his mouth, since he had no doubt that Edgeworth would have read Shakespeare at some point. But fortunately any deeper meaning flew over his head for now, since his frown had gone. Miles still wasn’t smiling, but it was a start.

“Ever the optimist, aren’t you Wright?”

“When’s the last time you called me Phoenix?”

“I’m going to go home.” He said, avoiding the question completely. Or maybe just choosing to ignore it. Probably both.

“Oh, okay. Get some rest.” Was Phoenix’s slightly dejected reply.

“Thanks for the coffee-” 

“Thank you for the co-”

They’d both spoken at the same time. Phoenix felt the heat rushing up the back of his neck as Edgeworth’s eyes widened and he stood up from his chair and turned to leave, obviously quite embarrassed too. 

“HOLD IT!”

...and he turned again to face Phoenix, who had found a sudden determination.

He was going to expose this faker once and for all.

“You think you can fool me that easily, Miles?”

Miles looked dazed.

“Well, I know the truth. You just said ‘Thank you for the coffee’ which is polite, and I appreciate it, but you got the coffee for both of us. You’re a tea person! You’re freakin’ British! The way you sipped at it with the same look on your face, the way you carefully kept your hand on the cup until it was finished so I couldn’t see properly, the way you tried to disguise it with the amount of milk added… you ordered tea. It’s the only explanation. So TAKE THAT!”

Edgeworth was stunned, his face blank as he presumably processed the demise of his deception. 

And then he smiled. Then the smile cracked open, and Edgeworth laughed.

It had been so long since Phoenix had heard him genuinely laugh. Sure, he’d had his fair share of smug/maniacal laughs in court, but this was a soft, dorky-yet-still-classy, laugh. One so rare that Phoenix wished he could record the sound.

And it was perfect.

Once the laughter died down, Miles exhaled. “Guilty. You should really think about becoming a prosecutor, Phoenix.” He said, still smiling, as he turned on his heel and walked away.

Phoenix felt warm inside as he leaned back in his chair and watched him go. He was so happy with his win, that he completely missed exactly what Edgeworth had said to him.

...It was only when he stood up to leave himself did he notice the remains sitting inconspicuously inside of Edgeworth’s cup.

A thick, dark sludge of coffee grounds.

“Motherf-”

#ace attorney #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #wrightworth #narumitsu #maya fey #mia fey #a second chance