Sundae Cup

i was reading a story on here about customers coming behind the counter and remembered this gem. i was walking out to the lobby to collect trash when a 18-20yo girl comes behind the McCounter and fills up her sundae cup with more ice cream!!!! like uh?! luckily i was holding the Trash McMasher pictured above. i put the end of it square in the middle of her chest and walked her out from behind the counter. she threw the sundae cup at me but i slapped it onto the ground. and if that wasn’t enough she got her sundae from the drive thru! where’s there’s HD cameras that love to take pics of the customers car and license plate :)

desserts

anon asked for #7 (fake dating au) + jimon


Simon hates being at restaurants.

It’s actually kind of tragic, because eating out use to be a consistent source of joy in his life. Special occasions were always marked with dinner at his favorite Italian place, shoveling spaghetti into his mouth on every birthday, Hannukah, and any slight accomplishment.

He has a plate of pasta in front of him now, to appear normal when everyone ordered, but he can’t eat it. Well he could, technically, but he’d puke. So Jace is happily having a second meal off of Simon’s plate.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying my meal.” Simon says, succumbing to the infantile urge to pout. He’s having a rough night.

“Cheer up.” Jace raises his spaghetti covered fork to Simon like it’s a wine glass. “Tonight is about Magnus and Alec.”

“Then why are we all here?” Simon sighs, his cheek resting against his hand. He glances down the table where Magnus and Alec are sitting across from each other with a disgusting amount of love on both their faces. For some reason they chose to invite everyone to their sixth month anniversary dinner. On top of their hand-holding and Clary and Isabelle’s consistent flirting, Simon wants to leave.

And he’s usually not the kind of bitter single person to complain about couples. He believes in letting people be happy and express their love in public if they want. But tonight for some reason he just can’t handle it. He doesn’t know why.

“Because they’re gracious hosts.” Jace replies. “Jesus, lighten up. Look at them. That’s true love.”

Magnus is saying something inaudible to Alec, whose face is flushed and happy. The waitress beside the table looks vaguely unsure of whether or not she should interrupt to hand over the check.

“Can I get you anything else tonight?” She asks after a moment of hesitation. “Some dessert?”

“Of course some dessert.” Magnus flips open his menu again but hardly even looks at it. “The chocolate volcano cake for my beautiful boyfriend. Extra chocolate.”

Now Alec is really blushing and, okay, Simon’s dead and frozen heart thaws a little. Just a little.

“Is tonight a special occasion?” The waitress asks coyly, and Magnus beams as though he was waiting to be asked.

“Six months.” Alec supplies, and Magnus looks delighted that his boyfriend is choosing to participate in being fawned over.

“That’s amazing!” The waitress beams, scrawling something down on her notepad. “Let’s see if I can manage some free dessert.”

Jace looks genuinely astonished. He turns his head to face Simon and his eyes are wide and bugging out of his head, like he just witnessed the second coming of Christ.

“Did you see that?” He shakes Simon’s arm. “They got free dessert! Just for being a couple!”

“Yeah.” Simon sighs. “It’s nice.”

So Magnus and Alec eat their cake, which is a long process as Magnus insists on slowly feeding it to Alec while the both of them pretend not to notice Clary and Isabelle taking faux-candid pictures of them. And finally, finally they pay the check and file out of the restaurant.

Simon’s planning on going home. And by that he means going to crash on Luke’s couch. Not home.

But just as Magnus and Alec head off in the direction of the loft to do unspeakable things and Clary and Isabelle head off to get fro-yo, Jace tugs on Simon’s arm.

“You haven’t insulted me in like, two hours.” Jace points out. “I’m concerned. You seem–uncharacteristically upset.”

“I just want to go home.” Simon mutters, exasperated. “Maybe eat some chocolate ice-cream and then puke while I listen to The X Files at a low volume.”

“Well, as fun as that sounds, if you’re going to eat dessert anyways you might as well get it for free.”

They start small. Jace’s first pick is Chili’s, where they eat queso and Simon wonders why he’s actually sitting in Chili’s with Jace, who’s managing to eat quite a bit despite just having eaten two plates of pasta.

“What can I start y’all off with?” A waiter asks them, and Jace grabs Simon’s hand immediately. Simon, jarred, tries to pull back on instinct, but is met with Jace firmly holding tighter and making a “go with it” face. So he goes with it. Because why not.

“Me and my boyfriend are here celebrating our seven month anniversary.” Jace informs the waiter with a voice full of sugary sweetness. “That’s longer than six.”

The waiter looks confused, because he definitely doesn’t need someone to tell him numerical values and he’s also probably wondering why someone would have anniversary dinner at Chili’s.

“That’s–that’s great.” The waiter manages a smile. “So uh, what can I get you?”

Jace looks frustrated, yet determined. “What do you want, babe?”

Simon realizes it’s his line, so he picks up the menu and gives it a cursory glance. “Well. I really only want dessert. But I know how expensive it is, darling.”

Their story is laughably nonsensical and they both know it, because why would they come to a restaurant to eat if they can’t afford even a dessert. Jace looks close to breaking character, but he persists.

“Right, right. Because of all the money I spent on your…blood transfusion.”

Simon hides his sudden laugh with an unconvincing cough. The waiter looks around helplessly, probably for one of his co-workers to take his spot.

“Well.” Jace gives a forlorn sigh. “I’m sorry I can’t afford anything to give you, sweetheart, on this, the night of our seven month anniversary.”

There’s a long pause. And finally, begrudgingly, the waiter leans in and quietly offers two free hot fudge sundaes if they take them to-go. Jace happily agrees, repeating how “taken aback” he is by such “shocking generosity.”

They flee into the night, Jace still holding Simon’s hand even after they’re far enough away for their lie to be caught. And Simon doesn’t see any problem with letting Jace hold his hand, so he lets it stay like that. And he sits on a park bench with Jace in Central and eats the sundae, knowing he’s going to be sick later but not really caring.

“Nice moves back there.” Jace offers. “Very convincing. I almost thought we really were too poor for Chili’s dessert.”

“Oh, shut up! It was a better lie than yours! A blood transfusion?”

“That’s not even a lie.” Jace smirks, biting down on his cherry between his white front teeth until it bursts, juice dripping down Jace’s chin. Simon stares, a little amazed at the way Jace looks. For some reason Simon never noticed the little scar on Jace’s chin before, and that’s a shame because it’s really cute. All of Jace is cute, actually. And being at Chili’s and pretending that he’s dating Jace Wayland, being able to stare as much as he wants…it makes Simon wish for something. He feels that little empty section in his chest that he’s felt all night.

Well. Not all night.

“We should do that again.” Jace comments, stuffing his empty sundae cup into the Chili’s take-out bag. “But we’re going to have to be more convincing. We barely scraped by in there.”

“Let’s practice.” Simon says, half as a joke and half serious. His heart, though incapable of ever pounding again, is tense and waiting for Jace to say something. To either reject him or laugh.

But Jace doesn’t say anything. He leans in and kisses Simon, the stain from the cherry rubbing off onto Simon’s lips.

“It’ll be a lot easier to get dessert if we’re actually dating.” Simon points out in between kisses.

“Let’s do it.”

“But just for the dessert, right?”

“Just for the dessert.”

I Don’t Understand That Reference
Characters: CastielXReader, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester

Word Count: 1146

Summary: AU* – Y/N is a solo hunter rescued by the Winchester brothers and now living with them at the bunker. Working an intriguing case, her relationship with the fallen angel Castiel blossoms into something more than friendship - but is their love strong enough to survive the next apocalypse? AU note* - Cas has never been human in this universe. Fluff except for chapter 7 which is pure smut and can be skipped without losing anything of the plot.


Chapter 6

The angle of daylight had marched across the window steadily as the hours melted away - Cas’s shadow shifting along the floor as he stood silent sentinel garnering what information he could on angel radio. You’d had your head buried in religious texts all day, trying to find something, anything, that might help. You were discouraged time and time again as one promising insight after another ended nowhere. You glanced down at your phone – Sam and Dean would be at least 10 more hours. There was nothing to do until they arrived. Either you would figure something out, or you’d die trying. Either way it would be together. Fed up, feeling cooped up and hungry, you slammed your laptop closed and pushed it across the table in disgust.

Sliding back in the chair, you rubbed your face wearily and stood, grabbing your jacket, “I need some air.”

Before you could reach the door, Cas stirred from the window and blocked the way - planting his hand firmly against the door, his voice gravelly, “I do not think it would be wise to go out.”

You met his stern gaze, and pressed your hand tenderly to his chest, “That doesn’t mean I’m not going to go.”

Keep reading

10

It’s Okay to be Fat..ter…

He weighed in at the heaviest he’d ever been in his life at 280 pounds and summarily proclaimed, “that’s it! I have to lose 70 pounds! I still love eating… but I don’t want to be fat!”  And then he modeled a year old shirt he was too embarrassed to wear in public, shooting video of him squeezed into it for the entire world to savor.  He completely filled the bright, stretchy material of the shirt; his fat, yet empty, belly coupled with his ample love handles making him look entirely stout from each and every angle.  Pointing out that his gut was indeed bare above the taut waistband of his pants, he vowed that he wouldn’t wear the combination out and about for the locals to ponder his precise size.  In just a year, he was lazier, his entire body was thicker, and his beard was fuller.  He still had the confidence of a tiger.

Then he went on a date with the girl of his dreams.  Light and fit, she was one of those girls who liked having her date finish her dinner.  Ordering consistently heavy, she made sure her ample date plowed through a couple of appetizers for two, all of his meal and most of hers, crowned with a plus-size dessert that he worked overtime to swallow.  Her insistence that he enjoy himself complemented his love of food to blow out his gut into an impossibly enormous size, and he reclined in his seated position, muffling deep belches.  She patted him on his bloated heavy sphere of flesh, watching his nipples erect in his stretched shirt.  “You love having a big full belly, don’t you?” she asked, watching his eyes close in blissful acknowledgement of her continuing deep belly rub.  “Let’s go to my place and pick up a couple meat lover’s pizzas on the way home.”  He was instantly hard at the thought, grunting mightily as rolled his packed gut forward to allow his enhanced bulk to rise from the dining chair.  

Once home, she stuffed his beard with slice after slice of his favorite pizza, sitting on his lap trying to steady herself against his swollen belly.  She used both hands, forcing him to gorge himself well past the point of being unreasonably full.  She rubbed the distended sides of his bulging belly, the round top of his overpacked stomach where it formed a shelf under his fattened pecs, and carefully bounced her body off of his broadened front, causing him to release a few bass-toned belches that nearly blew her off his lap.  Overfed to the breaking point with pizza, his pants button popped off discreetly under his swollen overhang.  She lifted his taut shirt and kissed the reddened stretch marks on his gloriously smooth tank.  Careful not to bounce his tight-skinned gut on anything that might pop him, she navigated him into her bedroom with a can of whipped cream in one hand.  She pushed him onto her bed, his hefty belly up in the air like a giant dome, and relieved him of the trousers he’d handily outgrown that evening.  Treating herself to some dessert, she rolled his skin-tight shirt up back his nipples and began filling his shallower belly button with whipped cream, licking and sucking at the manmade sundae cup until he shivered with pleasure.  Squirting a pile of cream on top of each handsome pec, she continued enjoying her dessert, licking each nipple and sucking in as much pec as she could into her wide open mouth.  She then laid on top of his thoroughly gorged digestive tract, her back arched upwards into the air as she molded herself onto the manmade mountain of gut.  Putting the can’s nozzle in his mouth, she deployed what seemed like a never-ending cream stream, listening to him gulp and try to breathe.  Underneath her, she felt his belly skin stretch even tighter, bringing back her childhood memories of blowing up big balloons until they would burst.  “Fatter,” she said, “just a little bit fatter.”

A month later, he sat at her dining room table with a stack of pizza boxes before him.  It was Tuesday and that’s just what they did to commemorate their first date.  He’d gained twenty pounds and smiled broadly through his even-bushier beard when the scale breathlessly informed him that he’d joined the 300 Club.   He didn’t really want to be fat, but he couldn’t stop eating.  Now, with his new girlfriend happily cooking and baking in all of her free time, he found himself knee-deep in copious amount of all of his favorite food.  

His “300 Pounds and 30 Slices” video of him confirming his new highest weight, being fed the last five slices of pizza, and receiving a lengthy belly rub from his girlfriend became his most successful and loved video to date.  

The Lords and Ice Cream

Nobunaga: Hmm, not exactly ice cream, but shaved ice. Something coarse, but somehow smooth. Doesn’t matter what’s in it as long as it hits his sweet spot. Favorite would be one with Adzuki beans, though. Goes for parfaits if he needs something grand.

Mitsuhide: Scoops of green tea, preferably on a cup or saucer. He needs a spoon for it because he can’t risk his documents getting dirty while working.

Yukimura: Popsicles. AND HE BITES IT.

Saizo: Ice cream scoops with different flavors because they look like dango. Minimum three layers.

Masamune: Cone twirls. Smooth and pretty. He likes to watch how they make it. Makes him even more excited for a taste.

Kojuro: Ice Cream float. Less of the sweet stuff. Sometimes alcoholic. Doesn’t eat much ice cream but likes munching on the cones.

Hideyoshi: Those ones that come in big pints. He loves sharing it with his homies, Mitsunari, Sakon, and Hanbei. Dig in guys.

Inuchiyo: Those ones in small cups. He’ll buy one for each of you but will subtly ask you to feed him because he wants to know how the flavor tastes like.

Ieyasu: No cones since he doesn’t like his fingers getting all gooey when they melt. So a sundae cup it is, and everything strawberry flavored.

Mitsunari: Secretly hates that Hideyoshi only buys one big tub of ice cream and prepares four spoons. So, instead of complaining, he takes a big chunk off of the pint and puts it on his personal cup/saucer. Also likes crepes.

Kenshin: Likes everything, wants to eat everything. Has sensitive teeth and gets brain freeze easily so he’s most likely banned.

Shingen: Ice cream sandwich. Not too sweet, won’t be too cold either. Just about right. Also likes sugar cones.