blink cake

So I just reblogged this post:


“It’s for Valentine’s Day”


“You must be lonely?”


And now I’m just imagining Derek Hale at the supermarket at like nine at night on Feb. 13, innocently going through the checkout with his cucumber…..


It’s nine at night on February 13 when this hot-like-burning guy in a leather jacket comes up to Stiles’ lane at the supermarket and plops down a single cucumber and a crumpled dollar bill on the belt.

Stiles hefts it. “Uh, just this?”

The guy nods and offers, “It’s, um, for Valentine’s Day.”

Stiles blurts, “You must be lonely,” because this is his brain on less than three hours of sleep, ladies and gentlemen of the jury. College sucks.

Cucumber Guy’s eyes widen behind his thick-framed glasses (glasses that do nothing to diminish his attractiveness, unfortunately) and he just stands there staring at Stiles, color flooding to his cheeks.

Stiles replays what he just said in his head and mentally slaps himself. “No, wait, that’s not—”

Cucumber Guy just shakes his head, takes his cucumber and his receipt, and walks away.

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MariChat May Day 16: Flowers

For @midnightstarlightwrites.  More incredible talent!  Do yourself a favor, find her either here or on AO3, and go binge.

“Princess?”  Chat Noir poked his head in through the open skylight, expecting to see Marinette at her desk, but the room appeared empty.   “Marinette, are you home?”  Nothing.  He was debating whether to let himself in or to just leave when the trap door opened, and Sabine’s head appeared in the room.

“Ah, you are here!  I thought I heard you, Chat Noir.  Marinette is in the kitchen, come on in.”  She disappeared back down the stairs, but left the door open for him to follow her.

With a smile, he dropped into the room and followed Sabine down into the kitchen.

“Marinette, your stray is here.”  She dropped a kiss on her daughter’s head, and went to their door.    “I’ll be downstairs, helping your father.”

“Yes, maman,” Marinette called absently, her attention focused on the cake in front of her.  She flicked her eyes up at Chat as he sat at the end of the counter.   “Hello, Kitty.”

“Hello, Princess.”  He leaned forward to examine the partially decorated cake, and watched in fascination as little pink flowers appeared from the metal point as if by magic.  “How are you doing that?”

Marinette straightened and blinked at the cake.  “What, the frosting?”

“Yeah.  How does that work,” he asked, pointing to the bag in her hand.

“It’s a piping bag, with a decorative tip on the end.”  She untwisted the end, to show the cone shape of the bag, and then added a scoop of the pink frosting to the wide end.  “I load the frosting from this side, squeeze it down to the bottom like toothpaste, and then twist it to keep it tight.  I control how much comes out by varying the pressure on the bag.”

He watched her work a bit longer, still fascinated by the way the flowers appeared on the cake, spreading  almost haphazardly over the top, and cascading down the side.  “Can you make things other than flowers?”

She glanced up, caught the curious expression on his face, and smiled.  “Of course.  You can make almost anything, if you have the right frosting tip.  You see how this one has a bunch of points?”  He nodded, and she continued.  “You can use it to make a flower by holding the tip straight out from the side of the cake and squeezing only a little bit.  But if you change the angle, and move the tip horizontally along the surface as you squeeze, you can make a wave.”  She demonstrated by making a few of the waves around the base of the cake, then set the bag on the counter to take up a second bag that had been hidden on the other side of the cake.  “This tip is just a plain circle, and it’s small, so it’s good for making details and doing lettering.”  She held the point over the center of one of her flowers, and a little bead of yellow appeared at the end.  She deftly added little yellow centers to each of her flowers, and then wrote “good luck” in flowing script over the center of the cake.

He picked up the bag with the pink frosting, and squeezed it experimentally, leaving a ridged stripe along the edge of her bowl.  “Can I try?”

“Sure!  Here, come stand on this side.”  She stepped out of the way, and motioned for him to stand where she had been.

He looked from the little stripe that he’d made to her perfect flowers with surprise.  “You want me to try it on your cake?”

“Why not,” she giggled, taking his elbow and tugging him to stand in front of it.  “I made this for fun, as a way to keep myself distracted.”

“But I’ll ruin it!”

“No you won’t.  You didn’t actually make the frosting, so we know it’s going to taste good no matter what it looks like.”  She flicked his bell playfully, and pointed at the bag in his hand.  “Untwist it, and make sure your frosting is all pushed down, then re-twist it to make sure it’s tight.”

He frowned at the frosting bag in his hand, but did as she asked.  He pushed too hard, and a glop of frosting fell from the tip onto the counter.

She giggled, and wiped it up with a finger.  “Don’t worry, I still do that sometimes, myself, especially when it’s really full.”  She stuck the finger in her mouth, and hummed as she sucked the frosting from it, clearly oblivious to the fact that her innocent action made him think of things that were not innocent at all.  “I love frosting,” she said, smiling.

He cleared his throat, and returned his attention to the frosting bag, twisting it carefully until a bit of pink appeared at the end.

“Perfect!  Now, try a flower.  Hold it perpendicular to the cake, and squeeze gently.”

He followed her instructions, and initially, it looked just like hers.   But when he pulled his hand away, the frosting stuck to the tip and pulled the flower out into a cone that just flopped over.  He scowled at it.  “That looks nothing like a flower.”

“Try again, but this time, push the tip into to the flower ever so slightly before you pull your hand away.”  He nodded and tried it again, and this time the frosting stuck only a little bit.  “There, see?  It just takes practice.”  She moved around to sit at the end of the counter, and sat with her chin propped in her hands.

His flowers weren’t perfect, but at least they were recognizable and he did seem to be improving.  He glanced at her, a question on his lips, but he shut his mouth when he saw the tense set of her shoulders, and the agitated drumming of her fingers on the counter.  His heart sank, and he set the bag down carefully.  “I’m sorry, Mari.  I knew I was going to mess up your cake. You shouldn’t have let me mess with it.”

Her fingers stilled, and she blinked at him.  “Huh?”

“My flowers aren’t as good as yours.  I ruined it, and now you’re upset, but you’re too polite to tell me.”

Her confused look only deepened.  “What are you talking about Chaton?  Of course your flowers aren’t as good as mine, I’ve been doing this since I was big enough to hold a piping bag, and you literally just learned.”  She nudged the bag towards his hand.   “Why don’t you finish it?  It looks like you’ve got a handle on the flowers, you should try doing the scrollwork around the bottom.”

“You mean the waves?”


“You know it’s going to look like it was done by a three year old.”

“Are you having fun with it?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Then you should keep going.”  She nudged the frosting again.   “I told you, this was just for fun.  It doesn’t matter what it looks like.”

“But, if you’re not upset about the cake, then what’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing, really.”  She sighed, and picked up the yellow frosting to squeeze some onto each of the fingers on her left hand, making a different design on each.  “I registered for a summer internship with Gabriel, but they only accept two students each year.  They’re supposed to announce their picks tomorrow morning, and I’m a nervous wreck.”  She examined her work for a moment, then stuck her thumb in her mouth to lick off the yellow heart she’d drawn there.

“Oh.”  The sight of her lips wrapped around her thumb had shorted out his brain, so it took an moment to process her words.  She didn’t seem to notice.  “That makes a lot more sense than—” He shook his head and laughed humorlessly.  “I should have known you wouldn’t get upset with me over something like this.  I’m, uh, kind of used to people expecting me to be perfect.”

She rolled her eyes, and licked the star off of her pinky without noticing his arrested expression.  “That’s ridiculous.  No one is perfect.”  She licked the flower from her ring finger, her pink tongue curling around her fingertip as she swept the frosting into her mouth and he stared.

Nothing more had happened since that too-brief kiss last week, but he wanted it to.   He’d been hard pressed to think of much else over the last week. Now, she was sitting in front of him, innocently enjoying a bit of frosting, and it was utter torment.

Marinette eyed her two remaining fingers, and licked the clover from her index finger.  She hummed her enjoyment, completely missing his strangled whimper.  She smacked her lips and lifted her hand to lick away the last of the treat, but he’d had enough.  His hand shot out to grip her wrist, and her startled eyes shot to his.

“Merde, Marinette.  That wasn’t even intentional, was it?”

Her eyes widened at the husky timbre of his voice, and she frowned in confusion.  “What?”

He stepped closer to her with a smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth, and indicated the frosting on her hand with a tilt of his head.   “Weren’t you going to offer me any, Princess?”

“Oh,” she breathed, as he drew her hand to his mouth and slowly sucked the sweet yellow paw print from her skin, shifting his hand to hold her palm, rather than her wrist.  Her finger slid from his mouth with a soft pop, and he leaned forward in the hopes of claiming another kiss.

A door closed firmly, and they sprang apart with matching blushes.  He cleared his throat awkwardly, and picked up the pink frosting to attempt the scrolls at the bottom of the cake, hoping that they hadn’t been caught.

Sabine bustled into the kitchen with two baguettes from the bakery below, and a bright smile for the two at the counter.   “Marinette makes wonderful frosting, doesn’t she, Chat?”  They both choked on air, and she chuckled knowingly.  “I suggest, though, that if you want more, you have it with the cake.”

So, I’m not sure how I feel about this one; I’m worried that I spent too much time on the how-to stuff.  Thoughts? I welcome constructive criticism.  :)

anonymous asked:


“You know, I’m not that small,” Graves groused. “Five foot ten is a perfectly respectable height. An average height, even.”
Theseus smiled at him from beside him at the bar.
“That rather sounds like something a small bloke would say.”
Graves glared at him, fully unaware that tipsy as he was with drink, it looked more a pout than a glare.
“Why is your brother so fascinated with my height, Thes?”
Theseus shrugged and simply said, “It makes you the perfect height for hugging. Not so short that we need to bend. Not so tall that we can’t rest our head atop of yours. It’s a rare height, actually. Newt’s always been enamored by people of your stature. That fact that you’re you is just icing on the cake.”
Graves blinked.
“What does that even mean?!”
“It means you’re cute when you’re angry, Percy. Small folks like you always are,” Theseus said with a drunk flushed grin.
“I’m average!” Graves exclaimed, then after a moment, “And I’m not cute!”
“That rather sounds like something a small, cute bloke would say.”
“I hate you.”

Originally posted by hezachan98

gretamaya  asked:

rebelcaptain sharing a dessert (I know you just wrote something for me feel free to ignore but I figured I'd send this anyway ;)

Thanks also to the anon who requested something similar to this!

It’s rare that there’s good food on base, but Princess Leia’s birthday seems as good an excuse as any. Or at least, it seems that way to Luke, who bribes someone to make a cake. Less so to Leia, who scowls about how she never told anyone her birthday to begin with, and less so to Han, who grumpily tries to pretend the cake was half his idea.

Cassian really couldn’t care one way or the other. But if a princess demands that you eat her birthday cake, you eat her birthday cake.

He’s sitting with Bodhi, attempting to drown out Han prattling on about something in the corner, when Jyn takes a seat opposite them.

“What are you doing?” she asks. Bodhi, his mouth completely full with a too-big bite of cake, just points down at his plate happily.

“It’s the Princess’s birthday,” Cassian translates. “Want some?”

And then, without even thinking about it, he extends his fork across the table to hover in front of her mouth.

He immediately regrets it. There’s something entirely too intimate about the gesture, and with the way Jyn’s staring wide-eyed back at him, she must agree. Even Bodhi’s gaping at them, cheeks rounded with cake.

He considers stealing back the fork, but that feels disastrous, too, like an acknowledgement of what messy territory he’s inadvertently crossed into. If he acts like it’s no big deal, he can at least preserve some semblance of dignity.

He waves the fork a smidge, as though to communicate this is normal, I do this all the time.

Which of course he doesn’t, because his longest friend is a droid who a) doesn’t eat, and b) frequently whines about how sugar corrodes the human immune intestines, but still.

After a painfully long beat, Jyn glances down at the fork. And then, in what feels like slow motion, she leans forward, opens her mouth, and takes a gentle bite.

It would be absolutely ridiculous—not to mention inappropriate—to find this hot. And yet.

Cassian swallows.

“Any good?” he asks, his voice crackling.

She nods. She runs her tongue across her lips, swiping the extra crumbs, and seriously, Cassian needs to get a damn grip.

“Do you want the rest?” he asks, gesturing to his plate, because really and truly, his brain has stopped functioning.

She raises an eyebrow. “Or I could just get my own.”

“Right. Yeah.”

She stands, moving for the table over where Leia has now raised herself to her tiptoes to better yell at Han, and Cassian sinks back into his seat.

He glances at Bodhi, who has yet to swallow that piece of cake. Bodhi blinks back at him.

“Eat,” Cassian barks, a little more forcefully than intended.

Bodhi swallows and then immediately starts coughing.

Cassian sighs, pats him on the back. He slides his half-finished piece of cake towards Bodhi both as a silent apology and as an excuse to leave the room before Jyn gets back.

Which is, quite honestly, pathetic. But that’s a problem for another day.

Sisters of Steel, the superhollis AU prequel

Haven’t decided if I want to put it on ao3; but here’s the entirety of the prequel here. For those who don’t know, this is a prequel in preparation of the first chapter of my supergirl Carmilla AU ‘Stronger Together,’ which will be debuting in a few months for the @carmillabigbang!

Please let me know if you liked it. :D

                                               Sisters of Steel

When Ell was almost fifteen years old, Mom and Dad had pulled her aside and explained, gently, that she was going to get a little sister for her birthday.

Ell had asked for a puppy, so she was understandably confused.

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That Lovelis Bitch

Requested: yes this love did!

Words: 1038

A/N: OK, so apparently we don’t like Nia, because she’s steals our man Calum Thomas Hood (I think that’s how we all feel). Here’s another Calum one for y’all .-.
*stops talking because I’m too weird*




Thank you so much again Nia!

You were just getting out of the airport, texting Nia for setting this whole meeting up. You didn’t like her at all. She was too… fake for your taste, but Calum had already been after you once because of your hate towards her. So you decided to “pretend to like” her to please your boyfriend.

You had texted Nia’s sister, Rena, saying that you missed Calum so damn much and a few minutes a text appeared from Nia. Normally, you wouldn’t text each other, so it did wake an interest. Nia explained that she was more than happy to arrange a meeting between you and Cal. And how could you say now?

Your phone dinged and on the screen, a text appeared; Well, you deserve it.

You got out of the airport and got in a cab. Nia had texted you the address to a fancy restaurant, where they all were going for dinner. None of the 5SOS boys knew, but the whole Hey Violet band did. So you had been texted Casey about your project.

The drive took about an hour. Nia ordered the cab driver, too. Maybe she wasn’t the worst person ever? She had been clinging to Calum the whole tour – you knew that from Michael, who wasn’t very fond of her either. She was always sassy and snapping after you, which sometimes would result in a screaming fight. Calum had interrupted you and Nia’s fight once and he freaked. All of a sudden, the three of you was fighting. It ended with you promising to Calum that you would be nicer to Nia and Nia standing there with an evil smirk spread across her face.

The cab stopped in front of a rather big restaurant called: DiCibo. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of being reunited with Calum again. You texted Casey as you went in the restaurant; Better prepare yourself, I’m coming now bbeeeatch

“Welcome. How can I help you? “ The restaurant was almost empty from where you could see, which made you anxious.

“Is there a big get-together at all? “ The lady, who was asking you the question before, looked confused.

“Uhm no. But we have a great brownie-recipe. “ She said, handing you a menu. You slightly mumbled thanks, before she walked away, leaving you at the door. You found your phone immediately, thinking they must be late. They had to be late. The phone rang a couple times before Nia picked it up.

“Hey Y/N. “ She said with her “innocent” voice. Just hearing her talk made you sick. Voices behind her was yelling and your heart dropped when you heard one specific.

“WHO’S CALLING, NIA? “ Calum yelled. The menu fell to the ground from the shock. They are probably in the car, you thought.

“Where are you? “ You whispered. Nobody needed to know that it was you calling her.

“We’re at the restaurant. When are you coming? “ The voices behind her faded, making it clear she was walking away from them.

“You bitch. “ You hissed at her. You could almost hear Nia chuckle, making it clear it was all planned.

“What? “ She laughed. “What’s up, Y/N? “

Tears were forming in your eyes. You had no idea where you were. You walked in thinking you would get to see the love of your life, but no – Nia had to play some sort of game.

“Is that Y/N? “ Michael shouted far away, probably ears dropping on the conversation. You heard a sound of chaos before Nia immediately hung up before Michael could snap the phone. You stood there, a single tear running down your cheek, not knowing what to do.

“Uhm, miss? “ You said calmly, trying to control your cries. The lady walked over to you. “Can I get a table? “

“Yes of course. “ She picked up the menu from the tree floor and showed you to a table, right next to the door. You sat down, not even looking at menu.

“Three pieces of that brownie. “ You handed her the menu and smiled slightly. Then you looked down at your phone. Nothing. Not from Michael, Casey, Nia or Calum. Putting away your phone, another tear hit the table. And another.

Three plates of cake where placed in front of you. You didn’t say anything, well-knowing that “Calum Hood’s girlfriend crying in an empty restaurant” would be a great title for an article. So you wiped away your tears carefully and waved away the waitress. Minutes passed where you were just starring, tears hitting the table repeatedly.

The first cake was gone after 30 minutes. Then the next took 20 minutes. It was almost getting boring, eating and crying. A couple went in and got a table in the other end of the room. The hold hands acroos the table.

Don’t worry, it’s going to end, you thought with disgust, watching the happy couple. He’ll go away on tour and an annoying bitch will mess with your feelings!

You were mumbling about the irritating couple under your breath as you fiddled with the brownie, when the door slammed open. You looked up from your cake and blinked.

Calum looked around to see you, sitting in the corner.

“Fuck. “ he murmured as he stormed over to you, grabbing a chair to sit beside you. He instantly took your hand, which you made the rain appear over your cheeks.

“Don’t cry, love. “ He kissed your shoulder and leaned his head against yours. He breath smelled of nicotine and a tint of mint. A smell that you never thought you’d miss.

“Nia… I was going to surprise you. “ You cried. Calum’s kissed your cheek.

“I know. She told me, sweetie. “ He said, turning your head towards him. “She’s a bitch, isn’t she? “

You chuckled. Calum’s eyes instantly lighted by your laugh. He kissed you softly on the lips. God, you missed it – his plump lips moving against yours.

“Let’s eat the rest of that brownie? “ He pulled away and looked desperately on the cake, exposing his hunger. You laughed and nodded, before he started eating the rest.

request - i’ll do it, i promise
masterlist - shit like this

the worst part of being in your 20s is when all your friends and classmates are turning 23 and you have to see them post pictures of the same stupid blink-182 cake that they all inevitably get for their birthdays