cake crumb

4
VEGAN PISTACHIO STRAWBERRY CRUMB CAKE.

Vegan (!) Pistachio Strawberry Crumb CAKE CAKE CAKE CAKE CAKE CAKE CAKE 🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰🍰‬. A lovely, lemony brunch or breakfast cake laced with cardamom and sweetened only with maple syrup.

‪+ get your tix to the #kaleandcaramelcookbook Release Party in LA on May 2!‬

Read more and get the recipe here.

Just pretend to be my date // SHAWN MENDES

Overview: Y/n has a family dinner where her family always bug her about never bringing a date so she asks Shawn to accompany her.


“Please, please, please, Shawn,” I whine. “I never ask you for anything,”

“I don’t know,” Shawn trails off, his arm brushing mine as he walked me back to my house after we had dinner with some of his friends at the bar in the main street.

“Listen, my family bug me every year about if I’m dating someone and for once I just want to make them happy. Could you please, pretty please, for one night… just pretend to be my date,” I stop him, pulling his arm gently so he turns and faces me. The dark sky creates shadows against his face, the dimly lit street lights illuminating half his face.

“I just don’t want to lie to your family Y/n,” He says, linking my fingers with his.

“I know you don’t but I just want to get them off my case. I don’t know who else I could ask and right now there’s no one else I’d rather fake date then you,” I chuckle, looking up at him shyly.

“Aww Y/n” Shawn coos, wrapping his arms around my waist tightly, lifting me off the ground slightly.

“Shawn- can’t breathe,” I mumble into his chest.

“Sorry,” He chuckles, placing me back down and we continue walking again. “So what would this fake date entail if I did go along with it?”

“Well,” I glance at him from the corner of my eye. “You would just come to family dinner next Sunday, get introduced to my family. Make polite conversation as you do, then we leave and you will never have to see them again!” 

“Doesn’t sound too bad,” Shawn comments, slowing down as we reached my house, the moisture from the grass soaking through the gaps in my heels as I walked across the front lawn to the door.

“It’s not, you’ll be fine. You’re my best friend and my parents love you so you’ll be great,” I tell him while searching though my bag for my keys.

“What are you going to tell your mum and dad?” 

“Just that our friendship turned into a relationship and all that,” 

I jar the key into the lock, twisting it and shoving it open. 

“You want to come in?” I ask, holding the door open.

“You making a snack?” He asks while stepping past.

“I saved you some muffins,” Immediately he walks down the hall to the kitchen.

“Thank you!” a muffled call rings out, followed by plastic rustling.

“No problem,” I shout back, chucking my bag on the sofa and shrugging my jacket off. 

Shawn walks back in, grinning at me and shoving the rest of the small cake in his mouth, crumbs dusting his sweater. 

“Is there a dress code?” he falls back on the couch, legs chucked up onto the arm rest, wiping his shirt clean.

“Something smart, not too dressy though,” I do the same, sitting on the spare space that he left, putting my own legs over his.

“What do you think your parents will think?” He asks quietly, his hands fidgeting.

“What do you mean?” I tilt my head to meet his eyes.

“Just of us, like, together,”he says hesitantly, his eyes never meeting mine.

“Well, they probably saw it coming.” He sends me a confused glance. 

“We were best friends all through high school and then we’re still just as close now- I mean you haven’t had a girlfriend in a good 3 years or so and I haven’t even thought of dating so they probably thought that we had something secretly going on,”

He laughs, “A secret relationship, wow,”

“Hey, are you judging our secret partnership?” I glare at him teasingly.

“Not at all,” His arms move behind him to hold himself up to see me better.

“Good, because, if you were I might need to consider having a time out,”

“From our relationship?” Shawn asks, pretending to be horrified.

“Of course,”

“How dare you!” He scolds, trying to push me off the edge of the couch. His touch tickles, making me shriek in laughter and my arms flail around trying to get a grip before I fall but unfortunately all I get is a handful of Shawn’s T-shirt

I land with a thud on the ground, Shawn falling on top of me. He groans, lifting himself so that from his waist up he was off me. 

“Good one,” I growl, scowling at him.

“You’re fault,” He teases, grinning at me.

“Was not,” I snap back, a smile pulling at my lips.

“Was too,” 

“Was not,”

“Was.Too.” I say each word slowly.

“Would it really be that bad if we dated for real?” Shawn says gently.

“Was to- wait what?”

Originally posted by erinlindscys

anonymous asked:

I cannot stop day dreaming about Olivers bday party. It prob going to be at the loft. Of course everyone else will leave first, 'giving them the room. When he finally goes to leave I NEED Felicity to get up on her tip toes and kiss him on the cheek whispering "Happy Birthday" and then I just want him to say fuck it and kiss her. REALLY kiss her. And scoop her up and go upstairs. And at some point, whisper the words, "I want to come home." Then I can die happy. Or just be dead. Whichever.

Anon, you beautiful soul!! Way to go guessing the loft! I don’t know what I did to deserve this, because I NEVER get messages like this one, so thank you. Ugh, my heart is so very full from the picture you’ve given me that I ended up writing a *short* spec fic about it. (Based on recent spoilers, I know most of what I have written here ain’t gonna happen; but alas, I started this fic last month and wanted to finish it anyway. My Oliver deserves a happy spec fic on his birthday.)

Here’s my new favorite photo to set the stage. LOOK HOW HAPPY THEY ARE. I’M FINE.

xxx

“NO!”

Felicity’s cry echoes across the expanse of the loft, her words bouncing off its high ceilings, sending all party guests into an unprecedented silence.

Oliver stills, every fiber in his body already tightening, already on edge, ready to pounce to protect her if need be– He relaxes a little when he realizes Felicity is not, in fact, reacting to any sort of danger. Instead, she stares with wide, horrified eyes at the knife he’s still gripping, hovering over the direct center of the cake. The cake he was just instructed to cut himself. The cake covered in exactly 32 little plastic arrows, all pointing towards the center to form a giant O.

Yet he knows that look means trouble of a different sort…a Felicity-sized and always important portion of concern.

“What’s wrong?”

Oliver quickly makes eye contact with the rest of the group, just in case anyone’s picked up on something he’s missed. But everyone appears just as confused as he is by Felicity’s new state of peril.

Felicity visibly swallows as she slowly tiptoes towards him. She licks her lips once, hesitating before meeting his gaze; and he can practically see the wheels spinning behind her eyes, as she calms herself down and tries to explain.

“I just mean…you should have the corner piece, you know? Because it has more frosting. You like frosting, right? Everyone loves frosting.”

“Felicity…” He has no idea what she’s hiding, but he can tell something’s off.

“You know what? I’ll just cut the cake. I mean, you already do so much, the least I can do is cut you a piece of cake.” She’s taking the knife from him and already cutting off a corner piece, before he can even try to stop her, all the while muttering something to herself. He leans in a bit to try to hear, but Curtis and Quentin have resumed their conversation across the table, so all he catches is something along the lines of “What was I thinking…”

God, if only he knew. He’s spent years learning to understand what Felicity Smoak says, let alone trying to make sense of what could possibly be going on inside that beautiful head of hers.

“There. That is your piece.”

Keep reading

Black Cupcakes (Negan x Reader) - For @strangersangel9′s JDM Birthday Celebration!

Word Count: 1,630
Genre: Smut
Fandoms: Negan, The Walking Dead, Jeffrey Dean Morgan
Pairings: Negan x Reader
Rating: Explicit
AO3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10696854
Warnings: Language. Oral Sex. Vaginal Sex. Mentions of zombies. Mentions of death.
Tagging:
@ali-pennell
@awayoflife
@casifer-fan
@cherieann-2001
@daintyunicorn
@fangirlindenial
@flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash
@hannigrammatic
@i-am-a-rabbit-hearted-girl
@ifoundmydirection
@jaz-047
@kaitlinlexieporrini
@ladylorelitany
@loveforfilm
@magikat409
@manic-mamma
@memphisgirl1977
@miiraal
@mwesterfeld1985
@myheart4ever47
@negans-network
@negansmutweek
@owtsydedbox
@prettyepiic
@squid-from-mirkwood
@starshinesupergirl
@succubussass
@talldarkandwinchester
@thewalkingdeadbabe
@toxic-ink
@trashforwinchesters

Summary: Written for @strangersangel9’s JDM Birthday Celebration! It’s Negan’s birthday and you have baked him a batch of cupcakes complete with black-as-ink icing! When he takes you (and a cupcake) back to his bedroom, things get sweet and messy!

“Fuck, honey. What is this?” Negan entered the kitchen of the Sanctuary just as you put the finishing touch of black icing on his birthday cupcakes. It took just about every drop of food coloring that you could scrounge up from the pantry, but you knew he would appreciate the color scheme.

“Happy Birthday, Negan. I really hope you like them.”

A glimmer of sweetness flashed over his face as he made fleeting eye contact with you. It wasn’t like him to look away. He was more the type to invade your personal space and stare you down while he grilled you about one thing or another. But this gesture had him flattered yet uncomfortable. You wondered why.

You crossed to the other side of the counter and wrapped your arms around his waist, on top of his gray T-shirt but underneath his leather jacket. He felt warm and you snuggled into his coziness. “What’s the matter, Negan?”


“It’s nothing.” He cleared his throat, plastered a big smile on his face, and grabbed one of your yummy treats. “These look goddamn delicious!” He took a giant bite, nearly half the cupcake in one gobble, and came away from it with black frosting and pink cake crumbs all over his stubble.

You laughed at him and he laughed with you. He let you take a damp kitchen towel and wipe his face, and you followed that with a trail of soft kisses down the deep dimple on his cheek. He followed suit, trailing passionate kisses down your neck, attempting to dive lower into your cleavage.

“Ah-ah-ah,” you interrupted his plundering. “Not yet. Your dirty girl has got to get this kitchen cleaned up before we celebrate this bad boy’s birthday!”

“My princess will do no such thing. Hold on a second.” He walked over to the swinging doors of the kitchen and poked his head out. “Oh, Eugene! A little help in here?”

Eugene appeared a moment later, serious as ever. “How may I be of assistance, Negan?”

Negan rubbed his palms together with a smile. “Well, Eugene, as it happens, today is my birthday. My beautiful girl here has made me cupcakes, but those aren’t the only fucking cakes I’d like to get a firm grip on right now.”

You blushed. The man had a way with words.

Eugene’s expression remained unchanged. “Understood, Negan, but if you don’t mind my asking, what in the world does this have to do with me?”

Negan patted Eugene on the back. “Well, buddy boy, my girl wants a clean kitchen before I sweep her away to my private quarters. I don’t want her to tend to such menial tasks. And I certainly do not fucking want to clean up this mess myself. Especially not on my birthday.”

“Say no more, Negan. You two retire to your sleeping quarters and I will have this place hunky-dunky and fully operational ASAP.”

You and Negan both stifled laughs at Eugene’s wording, which was typical for him but still unusual to you. “Thank you, Eugene,” you told him with kindness and incredulousness mixed together.

“It’s no trouble. I cannot abide a reality where a sweet lady like yourself has to clean up this mess. Now let me get to it. Tick-tick-click, easy-peasy.” He began wiping the counter and then paused. “Are you going to eat these cupcakes?”

You giggled. “Help yourself, Eugene.”

“Actually,” Negan interrupted, “maybe just one.” He swiped one with one hand and grabbed your hand with the other, leading you out the double doors and down the hall to his black and gray lair.

You walked hand-in-hand, suppressing schoolgirl giddiness as he looked you up and down. Things were still quite new between you, and though you were just one of his many wives, you knew that each woman had a unique connection with him and you appreciated yours. You were good to each other and good for each other. The big bad wolf was pretty sweet when yours were the only eyes on him.

Back in his bedroom, he set the cupcake down on the nightstand, clicked the door shut, and bolted the lock. He leered at you playfully, palming the bulge in his pants, and then he walked over to the windows to draw the blinds closed. “We need complete fucking privacy for this little birthday party,” he said.

While he busied himself pouring a couple of glasses of scotch, still facing away from you, you slipped out of your dress to reveal a strappy black teddy that you could hardly wait for him to peel off of you.

You picked up the cupcake and held it like you were a model on a TV game show, as if the cupcake was his grand prize, though you knew that your body was his ultimate desire. You knew him well enough to know that he wanted to incorporate your sweet treats into the night’s lovemaking, so why not get the jump on him and surprise him with a little extra sugar?

He turned around with his mouth open, about to speak, but when he saw you standing there in your lingerie, his jaw simply dropped lower. Then he found his voice. “Jesus fucking Christ, you really know how to wish a guy a happy birthday!”

A smile spread across your face and you crossed the room to approach him, cupcake still in hand. “Sit on the couch and unzip your pants, birthday boy,” you commanded him. He complied immediately, pulling his engorged cock out and pumping it hard. But he needed no priming. He was ready to go. You got down on your knees in front of him. “You want me to blow out your candle?”

He visibly shuddered with pleasure at your suggestion, nodding his head and biting his lower lip. You dragged your finger through the black icing on the cupcake and smeared a thick dollop of it onto the head of his dick. “Ohhh, fuck,” he vocalized as you drew closer to it, ready to lick the frosting off.

As your tongue swirled around the tip and you took the frosting into your mouth along with the first several inches of his manhood, he threw his head back and moaned a low, guttural growl. You swallowed the whipped cream frosting and tasted its sugary sweetness mixed with his precum and sweat. “Mmm, you taste so good, Daddy.”

You bobbed your head up and down, taking his length nearly all the way, until he hit the back of your throat. He was grunting, frustrated. He wanted more. “I want to taste you.” He commanded you, “Get on the bed!”

Never one to disobey an order, you smiled and bounded over to his massive bed. You were thankful for his black sheets because he was headed toward you, cupcake in hand, and you knew things were about to get messy. “Mmm, let me unwrap my present,” he said as he slipped a finger beneath your black straps and pulled your lingerie off in one smooth movement. It took you an hour to get ready and it took him less than a second to have you naked.

You had used your finger to smear the icing on his naughty bits, but he took the direct route, pressing the top of the cupcake into your nipples and covering them with a thick coating of the black-as-ink frosting. He then dove in for a taste of the sweetness, sucking it off with gusto, leaving you moaning and breathless.

He traveled lower, taking a fingertip full of the frosting and rubbing it onto your swollen pink clit. He licked it off, twirling his tongue around your happy little bud, feeling your body bloom with pleasure. “Oh, baby doll, who needs cupcakes when you taste so sweet?” He smiled up at you, flashing those blinding white teeth. God, he was gorgeous.

He climbed up on top of you, positioning himself perfectly between your thighs. You beckoned him, “Please, Negan. Please fuck me. My pussy is your birthday present.” He groaned in pleasure at your words and he slipped inside so easily since you were dripping with wetness. He thrust hard into you, watching you writhe with sensual joy, hitting all the right spots until you hit your own high note of ecstasy.

Finally, after you were completely satisfied, he pulled out and looked you in the eye while he pumped his cock with his hand. “Where do you fucking want it, darling?”

Without hesitation, you answered, “In my mouth.”

He let go in a rush of warmth and contentment, filling your mouth with a generous amount of sweet but salty jizz. You loved the taste of him. The taste of his utter joy.

As he lay down next to you and you snuggled into his arms, you remembered his earlier hesitation when you presented him with the goodies you baked for his special day. “Negan, you didn’t mind that I baked for your birthday, did you? You seemed so quiet at first. And you are not a quiet man,” you laughed gently.

“Ah, no, darlin’. It was fuckin’ sweet of you. It just reminded me of the good old days with my wife, Lucille, before the walkers came and took her from me. You remind me a lot of her. You’ve made me very happy.”

A single tear rolled down his rough cheek and you kissed it away. Few people since the apocalypse had ever seen him this vulnerable and you felt fortunate that he let you get this close. You were tempted to say those three little words, but you knew it was much too soon, and he may never let you get that close. Just knowing he was happy tonight would have to be enough.

As far as rainbow cakes come, this one’s probably my favourite so far. Its unbridled vivaciousness only slightly muted by its pastel hues, make such a happy sight, which is great for an equally joyous occasion.

Cake: Cupcake Jemma/Crumbs and Doilies
https://www.pinterest.com/pin/141793088245849434/

The Kitchens

part iii


Sirius thought being a royal meant having power. He thought having power meant having answers. Academically speaking he supposed this was true. He did have power. In a few more months, he’d have all the power in the world. A kingdom. A nation. Anything available, all answers ready at the snap of his fingers. His whole being would be flooded with his royal blood. It would be all anyone would see. Not that people saw much more anyhow.

Sirius looked down from the doorway, blinking and surprised to find his hand outstretched towards the place where Remus had been a moment before. He opened and closed it a few times, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together. He could use an answer right about now.

But it was useless. Power. Royalty. It was all so utterly useless against… whatever had just happened. He was tempted to try, to search and see if someone could puzzle this one out for him as well. But he wasn’t sure that was possible.

He put his hand down, only now noticing how cool the room had gotten as the sun set. He looked up at the sound of feet above him, frantic feet… pacing? The floorboards groaned under the hesitation and then squeaked and protested when the pacing started up again. Twice they came to the top of the stairs, and twice they retreated once more. He wanted to go up, almost did a few times… But Sirius didn’t know if he was welcome upstairs. He frowned as Remus’ words echoed in his ears.

Of course you can be here. You’re you.

He sat back on the stool, sighing and picking another piece of cake from the crumb ridden plate. The phrase really shouldn’t bother him. It was true after all. He could go any where he pleased. And it was because of who he was. He should be proud of that, that was power, so why wasn’t he? It was maddening, honestly, but he didn’t want Remus to think-

Sirius threw the cake down, rubbing his hands over his face.

He didn’t know what he didn’t want Remus to think. That he would invade any space he chooses just because he can? Yes. But he could so why shouldn’t he?

Sirius stood. He wanted answers. Why shouldn’t he get them?

The stairs practically wailed under his feet and he heard Remus still. He turned into a small, nearly bare bedroom almost immediately as he followed the sound—or lack of. He hoped his reaction didn’t register on his face. The room was sad, and drab, and positively wretched. He didn’t know how Remus lived in here much less slept at night.

“Who said you could come up here?”

Sirius turned his gaze away from Remus’ bedroom and to the boy himself. Remus stood in the center on a small, threadbare rug that could hardly pass for more than an old dishtowel in Sirius’ opinion. His arms were wrapped protectively around himself and he was red from his cheeks to his neck, a dark embarrassed flush that made him look positively endearing and livid at the same moment.

Sirius stepped into the room, carefully avoiding the moldy door frame, “You left without explanation, I came-“

“That doesn’t mean I wanted you to follow.”

Sirius shook his head, mind reeling, “I don’t understand.”

“Oh,” Remus scoffed, “There’s a first.”

Sirius, to his surprise, flooded with hurt rather than anger at the insult. He didn’t want to lash out, not like he usually did. But he wanted it to stop. He took a deep breath through his nose.

“Why, are you so angry?”

“Because-“ Remus gestured wildly at Sirius who looked down at himself, trying to pinpoint something that he could have done. He looked back up, bewildered, when Remus failed to elaborate.

Remus’ cheeks were pink his eyes burning, “You can’t just waltz in everywhere like you own the place!”

“I do own the place!” Sirius burst, confusion slowly giving way to the familiar burning flare of his temper.

“That doesn’t give you the right!”

“I-“ He snapped his mouth shut. His hands were fists at his side. He felt deep, dark shame spread through his chest, snuffing anything else out in its path. His straightened, “I know that.”

He dropped his gaze from Remus’ who was still breathing hard, “I know that.”

Remus turned away too, bracing his hands against the splintering desk on the far wall and not saying a word.

Sirius wanted to take it back. He’d foreseen this reaction and carried it out anyway. Why?

Pride.

Sirius swallowed.

Remus’ knuckles were white against the wood and he stiffened when Sirius took a step forward so he took two backwards instead, “I apologize.” After the evening they’d spent together, the words felt too formal coming out of his mouth but he continued the tone anyway. He didn’t know how to not set Remus off again. He didn’t want to.

“I overstepped. I was… confused. I didn’t mean-“

“I know.” Sirius was surprised at Remus’ voice. It was shaky and unsure. It was hopeless, “I know you didn’t mean it, you never mean it, but you do it and I… I think its best that you go. Just right now, I-“ Remus turned back around, sighing. Sirius’s fingers dug into his palms at the relief that flooded his chest when Remus looked at him, “I don’t know what to say right now, alright? I’m sorry, you’re sorry, let’s just… leave it at that. This is strange enough as it is.”

Sirius blinked, “I didn’t- what about this is strange?”

Remus let out a small, only half humorous laugh, “Really?”

Sirius shuffled, unsure. He didn’t like not knowing, he didn’t like being unsure. But here he was, with Remus, a boy who seemed to be nothing but unfamiliar territory.

“I- I had a fine time tonight. I don’t see what’s so odd.” He clasped his hands behind his back, then unclasped them, the gesture reminding him too much of his father.

Remus looked at him for a moment more, then shook his head, hands going behind him briefly to untie his plain, canvas apron from around his waist, tossing it onto the bed, “Have you forgotten who we are?”

“Of course not.” And then Sirius slipped a little, “Quite hard to given the state of this room.” He trailed off at the end, biting down hard on his tongue, “I- I didn’t-“

“Yeah, you didn’t mean it, right?” Remus’ stare was colder than Sirius had seen it yet, “You really should go.”

The silence in the room was crushing. Sirius tried to straighten his back, to regain some form of composure… but he couldn’t. Not enough, anyway. And he turned quickly on his heels, thundering back down the stairs and up out of the cool kitchen. He ran and didn’t stop until he was leaning back against the shut door of his room. He gazed around at it, breathing hard.

Everything was perfect.

The pillows were fluffed, the sheets turned down. Not a speck of dust. The finest of silk sheets lay waiting for him, the wood bed frame positively shone. The expensively dyed, woven tapestries on the walls showed riches and wealth.

He gulped down air, nails digging into the wood behind him. He’d let himself believe for a moment. He’d let himself think that maybe, just maybe…

A friend.

But here he was, back where he started. In this spotless room, waiting for a future to be mapped out for him. Waiting and simply passing the time. Is that what he’s trying to do with Remus? Yes. Yes, that’s better. It’s better to think of it like that. Just a way to pass the time. Not a friend. A servant. That’s what he is, that’s what James is, that’s what they all are. And he is a king.

He is a king, and a king rules alone.

~

Sirius stayed quiet as James dressed him, avoiding his curious glances when any attempt at banter or conversation was more or less ignored.

“Mate, the party won’t be that bad. There will be drinks, look at it that way.”

Sirius nodded, busying himself with undoing and re-doing a tie on his sleeve, “I’m sure.”

He heard James still from where he was hanging up a dress jacket from behind him, then sigh, “Alright…”

Sirius closed his eyes briefly at the guilt that flooded his chest. He didn’t want James to think he was angry with him. He wasn’t really all that angry at all. He was confused, he was hurt. He couldn’t seem to say the right thing anyhow so why say anything at all?

“The pub was fine, by the way,” James voice came after a moment, much more guarded than before, “thanks for asking-”

“I’ll take the green instead, actually.” Sirius cut him off before he could try and start another conversation, a conversation Sirius didn’t think he could finish before slipping up and loosing what little distance he’d been able to put between him and his friend in the half hour James had been in his room. He shrugged off the black vest he was wearing and held it out without eye contact, simply trying to keep James busy.

He could feel James looking at him and finally had to look up as well, not wanting to run the risk of appearing childish. They held each other’s gaze for a second before James took the thin velvet garment, turning back to the closet and swiping the green, “Why the sudden change of heart?”

He was not referring to the jacket.

Sirius allowed James to ease the material over his broad shoulders, straightening it with a tug, “Just… thought it would be better.”

He was not referring to the jacket.

A few beats of silence and then he heard James huff out a breath, “Well then. Okay.” Sirius turned around nodding as James eyed him somewhat too knowingly. Sirius knew he knew something was up. Instead of pressing, however, James just spread his hands then let them drop back to his sides, slapping against his pants, “Right, enjoy your party, feast, ball, whatever it is.”

“Not likely.”

James smirked at the same time Sirius did and there it was. The friendship leaking through the cracks. Sirius cursed himself for letting it, and thanked god that it was there in the first place. He straightened.

“I’ll let you know if I need anything. I assume you won’t be waitering?”

“McGonagall said they had enough so, no.” James pushed his hands into his pockets.

Sirius nodded. McGonagall, head of the downstairs, always on top of things. Sirius had always liked her despite what his mother said about her habits and dress.

“Right, okay.”

James nodded back, and was turning to go when he halted, hand on the door nob, and turned, “Sirius?”

No, no, just leave, James. Sirius chanted at him in his head. He would slip up again. James was all he had and he would slip up again, “Hm?”

James tilted his head a little, “Are you okay?”

Sirius exhaled a shaky breath, closing his eyes. Because of course. James, all he had, his first and only friend, and the only person to ever ask him that, ever. He savored it, he let it melt the walls away. He couldn’t do it. He wasn’t sure he’d even tried properly—wasn’t sure he could try properly, but he couldn’t shut him out. Not James.

“Sirius?” Worry clouded James’ voice now.

Sirius opened his eyes and nodded quickly, “Yes. Yes, fine. Just…” He tok a breath, words coming out with his exhale, exhausted, “you know how I get at these things.”

James nodded slowly, as if weighing it for truthfulness, “Right.” He turned to go but turned once more, “You’d say, wouldn’t you? You’d tell me if it was more?”

Sirius melted a little more. Care and kindness was not something he was experienced with, and he fumbled to handle it each and every time. His conscious screamed a few things that his mind didn’t quite comprehend yet.

I’m so lonely I can barely stand it.

Everything I need is right here. Everything I want is right here and so far.

I’m a king and he’s not.

That last was especially dangerous. He didn’t know what would happen if he let that one come to full comprehension.

“Sure. ‘course.” Sirius bit the inside of his bottom lip, “Of course I would, James. Have a good night, yeah?”

James flashed him an uneasy grin and left fully this time, door shutting softly behind him.

Sirius let out a breath he had been holding. His sheets were silk. His crown was pure gold. His clothes were the finest all around. His cellar was full of riches and coin. His home was a castle. His birthright was a country and a beautiful queen.

And yet, at that moment, he would have traded it all for a bit of plain chocolate cake and the sandy hair and kind smile that went with it. And he didn’t know why. He knew which should be more promising, but he also knew which one actually was.

He left for the party with heavy feet and a conflicted mind.

~

The party was brilliant and soft. The lanterns shone out against the dusky sky and laughter filled the summer garden. The patterns in the paper placed around the candles cast intricate patterns on the guest’s faces, making them seem to be a part of the flowers that surrounded them. Sirius wished he could enjoy it all more, honestly, he did. He lived for summer evenings. But his mother was cackling at his elbow, his brother sulking at his other, and his father downing scotch after scotch across from him, all while pretentious dukes and nobles and their wives laughed and practically bowed on the spot. Anything to gain favor. Sirius stood, back straight to avoid a glare and nails digging painfully into his neck, but it was all he could do to not slap the lot of them. But he had become fluent in the art of restraint early in his life. For many reasons.

He turned to Regulus, seeking at least some refuge, “Fancy a swim tomorrow?”

Regulus didn’t even look at him, “Not particularly.”

Sirius blinked, staring at his little brother for too long. His mind played images of them only a few years ago, snorting at the table and sneaking off from parties to some mischief. For the life of him, Sirius couldn’t say what had gone wrong. Another question, it seemed, the royal blood did not get him the answer to.

He sighed, turning away, “Right then. Nice of you to let me down lightly.”

Regulus glared sharply at him but turned away again, wordless.

“Sirius!”

Sirius’ stomach clenched at his mother’s voice—the singsong one she used in company. He flicked the corners of his lips up almost on instinct, turning towards the sound and whoever it was he was meant to greet. He nearly lost the slapped on smile, however, when he saw who that was.

“Sirius, darling, meet Anthea. Anthea Cerberus. You know the family…” His mother muttered the last part in his ear.

Sirius stared at the young girl for a moment. She looked around his age, maybe a few years younger. Her eyes were practically black against the swirling pattern of light that a lantern was slanting across her face, and although Sirius knew it was the lighting darkening the brown irises, it unnerved him. She looked soft and flush, just like the rest of the guests, but her gaze did not. Sirius listed off what he knew in his head. His age, female, introduced to him by his mother who followed the introduction by hissing a reminder of her status in his ear. Sirius gulped down the dread that was rising in his chest.

“Ms. Cerberus-“

“Oh, do call her Anthea, boy!”

Sirius grit his teeth, letting the pleasure he took in the slip up of his mother’s tone into his veins. He took the hand she was presumptuously offering, “Anthea. Pleasure is mine.”

She let out a little laugh, biting on her lip in a way that he was sure was suppose to look sweet, “I’m sure.”

He scoffed ever so softly under his breath, “Are you?”

Sirius flinched at the familiar dig of his mother’s nails onto the flesh where his neck met his shoulder. His back straightened instinctively and his heart picked up. They retreated, and he could feel the sharp sting where the crescent shapes had broken skin.

“Anthea lives just in Akeldama. You know Akeldama.” The queen’s voice was back and strong, dripping with false adoration.

“Oh yes, wonderful hunting.” Sirius had never been hunting in his life and never would if he could help it.

“Quite right!” She fanned herself with the small embroidered fan she held. Two snakes with entertained necks blinked at Sirius from the stitching, “Perhaps one day you can catch me something. Something… big and bloodied.” Her eyes had lit up in a way that made Sirius want to positively run.

“Yes…” He swallowed, keeping the smile up, “Perhaps-“

Sirius broke off, a movement from just beyond the lights catching his eye. He wasn’t even sure how he noticed it until he realized what exactly he was looking at. A face peaking out from between trees. More importantly, a face with a nose that sloped up just a bit at the end and caramel hair.

Sirius blinked a few times, then turned back to Anthea, knowing he had paused for too long to appear normal but attempting to recover anyway, “Yes, absolutely. Perhaps, in the meantime, I can offer you…” He glanced over to the dessert table, “something sweet?”

She giggled, although it didn’t sound like a giggle. It was horribly high pitched and came out through her nose.

“Oh yes, please.”

He left the girl and his mother, who were gushing about his gentlemanly actions, with no plan on returning.

He weaved through the crowds of people towards the long table that was laden to the brim with sweets and cakes and puddings. He nicked a plate and started from one end. He made his way through the table, taking two of every dessert that visibly contained or that he knew to contain any form of chocolate. When he was done, the plate was only just nearing too piled and he looked at it with satisfaction. If anything qualified as a piece offering, this was it. With a last glance towards where he could just see the tops of his mother and Anthea’s heads, he disappeared from under the lights, arcing around the trees, which he knew to ring a small clearing, where he had seen Remus’ face moments earlier.

He walked briskly until he was at the opposite edge of the clearing, fully able to see Remus’ back as he watched the party from the safety of the trees. His hands were pressed to the bark of the one to his left, wrapping around it and letting his temple rest against it. Sirius thought he heard soft humming in time to the music. Sirius took quiet, slow, steps until he was just behind Remus.

He took a deep breath, gathering his courage,

“A fairy’s ring.” Remus jumped out of his skin and Sirius grinned, “That’s what they call this.”

Remus let out a huff that could have been a laugh and turned, “Jesus fucking…”

“It’s suppose to have powers… of some sort.” Sirius interrupted him and pretended to look around at the darkening trees, the lights of the party only just filtering through them, when really he was watching Remus from the corner of his eye. Finally, he shrugged, eyes falling back on Remus fully, “If you believe in that sort of thing.”

Remus stood there quietly, watching Sirius with guarded eyes. When he said nothing, Sirius strode forward the last few steps to see the party as Remus had seen it, from between the trees. He spied his mother with her crown and cape almost instantly. You could not hear her cackle or falseness from here. You could not hear the snide, narrow-minded comments from here. You could not smell the reek of alcohol off his father from here. They all looked so happy from here. He wondered if Remus knew the truth.

“Looks quite lovely, doesn’t it?”

There was a few more beats of silence, until he felt Remus step up beside him, felt the warmth of his skin, “Yes. But you know that.”

His voice was guarded. The coolness stirred something in Sirius, some strange desire to do whatever he could to get rid of it. He thought of Remus in front of the oven that evening after swimming. He had felt so completely alone that day, floating in the center of the lake. But with Remus and his pink cheeks and freckled nose, he’d felt… cured? He didn’t know. Sirius shifted, clearing his throat, “I was making conversation.”

“You struggle with that.”

“With you, yes.” Sirius sighed. Again, he seemed to have stepped wrong.

He felt Remus stiffen beside him, then shift away to lean against the tree again. The heat of his skin had been distracting in a way that Sirius was sure it shouldn’t be, and was even more so now that it had gone.

Sirius tensed at the thought, the sudden want in his chest to regain that contact, and at his fingers tightening around the plate in his hands, he remembered what he was holding. He turned, holding it out wordlessly.

Remus looked down at it, eyes wide and blinking rapidly, then looked at Sirius with the same questioning stare.

“I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to say…” Sirius hesitated. In reality, he couldn’t really remember what he had said to make Remus leave in the first place, “I meant not offense,” He settled on instead, “and I know you like chocolate, so… think of it as a peace offering. I hear the chocolate cake is divine.”

Remus’ mouth twitched upward at that and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, hesitantly taking the plate.

I want to give him more. I want him to look at me like that again.

“I’ve… I’ve never had half of these.”

Sirius blinked, “You make all of these.”

“For you.” Remus laughed, actually laughed, and then caught himself, stuttering, “I mean for the upstairs. I mean- you know, your family.”

Sirius felt knocked askew at the guilt that rushed suddenly through him, “Oh. Well, we can sit. Or- you can sit. If you prefer.”

“No. No, it’s alright.” Remus nearly mumbled it and he dropped quickly to the ground. The light from the party cast soft shadows through the leaves against Remus’ face as he looked up at Sirius. It was better than the patterns of the lanterns and Sirius wished he could capture it somehow, “We can sit.”

He nodded, then sat too, shifting so he was shoulder to shoulder with Remus again, unable to resist feeling the warmth once more.

They sat quietly for the most part, picking at the chocolate, Remus occasionally commenting and Sirius occasionally agreeing. He didn’t take anything unless Remus offered it to him, something that he found took some restraint. He wasn’t use to being denied such trivial things. Eventually Remus scooted until he was turned around, and merely nodded in the direction of the party when Sirius raised an eyebrow. He wanted to watch. Sirius rubbed his cold shoulder softly before catching himself. He could have sworn Remus was watching the gesture, but when he really looked Remus’ eyes had darted away. The lights flickered through the leaves against his face, casting soft patterns. He offered Sirius a round truffle and Sirius took it.

He rolled it between his fingers, coating them in the bitter cocoa dust, “You like watching the dancing.”

“And you can’t cook an egg.” Remus said through a cherry sponge cake, “Anything else we’ve learned about each other?”

Sirius narrowed his eyes slightly, smile playing at his mouth, “Yes.”

“Oh, really?”

Sirius leaned forward, elbows on his knees, “You aren’t afraid to correct me.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, taking the truffle back that Sirius had yet to eat, “You aren’t afraid to insult me.” He popped it into his mouth, “So, you’re basically saying I’m head strong and can’t dance. Anything else?”

Sirius sighed, letting his head fall back against the rough tree bark, looking at Remus threw his eyelashes, eyelids hooded, “Well. I could teach you.”

Remus dropped the sponge cake onto the grass, just missing the plate, “Wh.. Sorry?”

Already Sirius’ chest was warming at the thought. The burning desire to have Remus’ palm against his almost scared him, “I could teach you. To dance. You said you knew of the Summer’s Waltz.”

“Knew of. As in can’t actually do it.” Remus’ neck was flushed with unsureness.

“Yes,” Sirius drew out the word, pushing himself up, dusting his hands off on his pants, and then offering one to Remus, “And I could teach you. As in assist you until you know it.” He added the last part playfully.

Remus just looked up at Sirius, eyes raking up and down his figure and then flicking momentarily down to his own, “I’m not wearing shoes.”

Sirius considered this, then looked down. He glanced up at Remus repeatedly, smirking at the shocked expression on his face as he undid his own boots, letting the grass cool his feet. He held out his hand once more, “Neither am I.”

Remus couldn’t describe that feeling in his chest as he slowly reached out and pressed his fingers around Sirius’. It was delight. It was want. It was dread.

“You’re very persistent.” Remus grumbled.

Sirius pulled Remus up, smiling at the soft noise Remus made with the effort. The smile wavered at just how perfect the weight of Remus’ palm felt in his. He frowned slightly at their hands. He didn’t know why he was so persistent. He didn’t know why he wanted to teach Remus to dance. He looked over his shoulder, at the blurry lights of the party. He knew why he didn’t want to ask Anthea to dance. Because she was rude, and she was ghastly, and she gnawed on her lip in an attempt to be flirtatious. He turned back to Remus, eyes falling on their hands and then his face. Remus looked nervous, and he was biting his lip, but this time it made Sirius’ chest seize up. Sirius let out a breath.

Alliances must be made, Sirius.

He knew he shouldn’t want this. He’d learned… he’d thought he’d learned to control it. He’d flirted with the servant girls, even taken some of them back to his room in an attempt to prove a point, more to himself than others. He’d liked it, being with them, but he hadn’t… enjoyed it. Not exactly.

But he wanted to teach Remus to dance. He wanted to hold his hand.

And he was a prince. Why shouldn’t he have, at least for a moment, what he wants?

He realized he had been standing there far to long only when Remus started to clear his throat and pull away.

“Um. If you’ve changed your mind-“

“No.” Sirius said quickly, “No. No, I haven’t I was just-“ He was caught off guard momentarily as Remus stopped attempting to extract his hand and it settled comfortably back into Sirius’, “I was just planning.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, “Planning?”

Sirius took a step forward, “Of sorts. Now,” Sirius took Remus’ other hand and pressed it gently to the shoulder of his arm not holding Remus’ other hand, “I’ll lead, so you’ll have to be the girl.”

Remus kicked Sirius’ shin and Sirius let out a loud fall of laughter, delighted that the joking side of Remus was back.

“Okay,” he cleared his throat as his laughter died down, “And I have my hand,” he tried to ignore the thrumming of his heart as he pressed his other hand to the small of Remus’ back, “here.” They were so close now that Remus stumbled forward, stepping on Sirius’ bare toes. He flushed but said nothing of it.

“Good?” Sirius said softly, looking down at Remus. He could feel the puffs of his breath against his neck and swallowed.

Remus looked up at him quickly, like he was taking a risk, and then straight again, eyes level with Sirius’ lips, “Good.” He coughed a little, “Next step?”

Sirius smiled, “You make it sound like we’re in the kitchen, cooking something.”

Remus flashed his eyes up again, lingering a little longer this time, and offering a smile of his own. He adjusted his hand and it ended up pressed closer to Sirius’, “Is it really that different?”

Sirius tried not to tighten his grip, “Suppose not, no…”

“So? Steps?”

Sirius jolted a little, “Yes- Yes. Yes, steps. Right.”

It was easier than Sirius had expected. Remus followed carefully and precisely for the most part, having an easier time of it once Sirius told him to step forward whenever he stepped back and vise versa. They laughed a little at small mistakes, but other than that it was only Sirius murmuring soft instructions and counting under his breath, a sound only accompanied by the settling wind in the trees. Sirius savored the way their eyes followed each other, the way only their wrists touched when the spun, and how they came back together nearly seamlessly.

Finally, Sirius lifted their hands up, pressing their fingers together until they were palm against palm, practically nose to nose, the final movement. Remus was looking at him this time, chin having to tilt upwards a little, lips parted.

“Like that?” He could feel Remus’ uneven breathing.

“Yes.” Sirius was sure his was the same. He almost couldn’t focus on the words. Remus’ hand was smooth, with a few working callouses littering the crest of his palm. His eyes were golden in the nearly faded light. “Just like that.”

Just like that. Just like that Sirius felt it in every cell of his body. His heart pumped it through his veins, his mind sparked it through his limbs. He wanted to kiss Remus. He wanted to so badly.

He stepped back, and the want dragged like a hook in his chest, attempting to drag him painfully forward once more.

“Just like that.” Sirius bent to pull his shoes back on, to hide the rapid rising of his chest, the flush on his neck, the panic and need in his eyes.

“Oh.” Sirius could see the way Remus’ now empty hand was opening and closing a few times, stretching the fingers out, “Well. Maybe once more-“

“I should probably get back to the party.” He needed a moment. Just a moment away, to regain his composer.

“Oh.” The hurt in his voice was overpowering, “Right. ‘Course you do.”

Sirius straightened, eyes almost pleading, “Not like that.” Please don’t be angry with me.

Remus turned back around sharply from where Sirius hadn’t realized he’d turned away, “Not like what?” His tone was almost… hopeful.

Sirius had never felt so conflicted in his life. The party lights were no longer beautiful, instead they felt like they were burning into the back of his neck. He wanted to stay here, in the cool, softness of this clearing with Remus. Maybe the so-called powers could trap them there, together.

He rushed forward, closing the few steps between them and took Remus’ hand again, pressing it between his own. If he had to go back to the party, he at least needed this.

“Come to the lake tomorrow. The one on the south grounds. Can you manage? At noon.”

When Remus nodded Sirius felt a wild relief. He very well could have kissed him again.

“Say it back so I know you’ll remember.”

Remus blinked. How on earth could he forget? He said it anyway, “Lake. South grounds. Noon.”

Tomorrow.” Sirius repeated urgently.

“Tomorrow.” Remus repeated once more, standing there until Sirius disappeared into the crowd of royals, hand warm and heart thumping.

Happy Birthday

Requested by: @givemeallthepie for their birthday. I hope you had a fantastic birthday, and I hope you enjoy the fic :)

2,614 word(s) of: a little sad but mostly fluffy birthday goodness.

No warnings(for once)      Leonard x Reader


You groaned at the sound of your alarm as you rolled over and fumbled with your PADD before finally shutting it off. You glanced at the time and then your eyes fell to the date. You groaned quietly to yourself, it was your birthday. You didn’t mind birthdays, you just didn’t like your own.

Keep reading

Soulhates

It was at another one of Gregory Patterson’s parties, that’s when I met her.

She the most disgustingly beautiful person in the room. With emphasis on the disgusting. The way she was looking at everybody like she was better than them. And she wasn’t even touching the cake Gregory made himself from scratch, despite being handed a slice by Gregory himself.

I kept my eye on her from the other side of the room. I wanted to catch her in the act of whatever she was gonna do next. But she didn’t even try hide it. Right in front of Gregory’s face, she grabbed the cake, smooshed it to crumbs and let it fall into the trash can next to her. She didn’t even bother to aim right, and some of the crumbs fell onto the floor.

I gasped, and Gregory had signs of distress on his face. He just moved back. The poor boy, his heart was broken by this witch. I was going to talk to her.

Keep reading

In the Interest of Justice - Happy Birthday -
  • Ace
  • Sabo
  • Luffy
  • Rosinante
  • Dragon
  • Law

Ace looked at the fireworks display with somewhat mixed feelings. It was his first New Years with the Whitebeard Pirates and he hadn’t told them that it was his birthday… yet.

His birthday was a bit of a sore spot (was it really a good thing that it happened, should people really be celebrating…), but he felt that he could tell these people about the date. Maybe. In the future.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t have good memories of that day at all. After all, his family had always tried so hard to make it special for him…

One of the fireworks seemed to explode into the form of a fox for a moment and Ace’s heart jumped.

When he finally managed to dodge the party-goers in a non-suspicious manner and get to his cabin, there was a wrapped package waiting for him.

(What is that woman thinking. She’s a Marine. What if Whitebeard took offense…)

The smile on Ace’s face refused to let up no matter how many horrible scenarios he conjured up, and when the next day Whitebeard… Pops, gave him a new hat “because his old one had gotten singed” he decided to tell the rest of the crew about his birthday.

  • Ace
  • Sabo
  • Luffy
  • Rosinante
  • Dragon
  • Law

Sabo made sure to get to a secluded area near the beach of the island he had been spying on and stand on plain view. Such actions would have normally been anathema for him, but he knew his auntie-mom by now. If she was going to be embarrassing and overly affectionate, he didn’t want witnesses.

Also, trying to spot her coming was always fun. Maybe this year he would be able to catch her tackle-hug instead of being bowled over.

  • Ace
  • Sabo
  • Luffy
  • Rosinante 
  • Dragon
  • Law

The Straw Hats crew looked on in bewilderement as a Marine woman (and a quite high-ranked one too, by the looks of things) located and invaded their ship in order to… wish their captain a happy birthday.

Most of them hadn’t even known Luffy was a May child.

In the end, they just shrugged and let things devolve into what Straw Hat adventures always eventually resulted in: a party.

  • Ace
  • Sabo
  • Luffy
  • Rosinante
  • Dragon
  • Law

Rosinante’s birthday had been a Big Deal when he was little. After they left Mariejois, however, his birthday lost his importance. With Sengoku he learned that it could become something special again, just in a different way.

He had never imagined spending a birthday reenacting a lame romance novel, of the nightly covert visitations while hiding from overprotective brothers-in-law variety (seriously, they were married, this was just juvenile), though. Not that he was complaining.

  • Ace
  • Sabo
  • Luffy
  • Rosinante
  • Dragon
  • Law

Dragon received his annual report on the Marine’s activity with a gentle smile disguised as a proud smirk. His subordinates thought that his spy on the Marines was high-ranked and under enough scrutiny that they could only report once a year.

They didn’t know about the date’s significance, or that the kitsune and dragon drawing on the end of the reports was a little more than a mere mark to prove the identity of their spy.

He didn’t see any reason to correct them.

  • Ace
  • Sabo
  • Luffy
  • Rosinante
  • Dragon
  • Law

Law watched his subordinates scramble to surface in order to investigate the “mysterious island” their Log Pose and maps didn’t seem to acknowledge and resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

The only reason he was pretending to fall for it was that he knew there would be cake without a crumb of bread in it for him.

  • Ace
  • Sabo
  • Luffy
  • Rosinante
  • Dragon
  • Law

Kitsune stored her papa’s birthday gift (a personalized cannonball) and ran to her post to fight. Apparentely, a few pirate crews and a small cradle of Revolutionaries had allied to infiltrate their base.

After a couple of hours of running around, making illussions and generally enjoying the mayhem, Kitsune went back to her room to find a pile of gifts for her. Her smile was so wide her cheeks hurt. 

My birthday gift for you: seven people celebrating their birthdays!

Also, I am apparentely exactly one month older than you. I’m still calling you senpai.

Holmes in the Kitchen

The idea of Sherlock Holmes cooking or baking always fills me with dread. He has not the patience for it, which… but let me illustrate my point with a story of my first experience of Holmes in the kitchen.

“Do you know Watson, I believe that Mrs. Hudson has quite surpassed herself,” my companion remarked as he brushed cake crumbs from his clothes.

It is an unusual occurance for Holmes to compliment our housekeeper in such a manner. I looked up with interest. “Has she?”

“Yes indeed. I have never had such a dry, tasteless cake! See for yourself.”

I was about to respond when the sitting room door opened.

“Mr. Holmes,” our housekeeper entered and stood before us with her hands on her hips. “If you wish to make a complaint-”

“Indeed I do,” he interrupted. “This cake is as dry as a bone and quite lacking in flavour. I believe that even I could do better.”

I laughed at this ridiculous last remark, for the very idea Holmes cooking left a great deal to be desired.

Mrs. Hudson turned her icy glare upon me. “You think so, do you? Very well gentlemen, we shall see what you are capable of. Down to my kitchen with you.”

We each exchanged an expression of disbelief. Surely she was not serious!

She was serious. She chased the servants from the kitchen and gave orders that she was not to be disturbed before handing my companion an apron apiece.

“Have either of you baked a cake before?” she enquired with a glare.

I shook my head and turned to Holmes, who was busy turning his apron over in his hands with distaste.

“Then we shall bake something simple. We shall need eggs, flour and sugar first of all.”

Needless to say, we made rather a mess. Holmes is no better at cracking eggs than he is at boiling them and he was not interested in using the scales to measure the ingredients.

“There is no need for scales,” he announced airily with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Years of practice with my chemistry set has left me perfectly capable of measuring these ingredients with my eyes.”

I refrained from reminding him that he has on occasion misjudged the quantities of some of his chemicals, often resulting in explosions.

When we were finished, the kitchen looked like a war zone. There was egg on the floor and flour everywhere (even in Holmes’ hair, though I am not quite sure how he achieved that).

“Well,” my companion said as he tossed aside his apron, “I believe we have completed our task Mrs. Hudson. If you would excuse us…”

Our housekeeper barred our retreat as Holmes made his way towards it. “Oh no you don’t! You have made a terrible mess, which you can now put to rights, and you have a cake to keep from burning.”

I started to sweep up the flour without a word of objection, feeling that the mess was probably my fault as I had allowed my companion to take charge. “Could you wipe up the egg that you dropped, Holmes?”

He frowned at me and hopped up onto the counter beside the sink, as it was the only surface not covered with flour. “Certainly not!”

“Then keep an eye on that cake. Please.”

“Mr. Holmes!” Mrs. Hudson had returned from the larder with cream and jam. “Get down from there at once! You are not to sit upon surfaces that are meant for preparing food.”

Holmes jumped down and was presented with a dustpan.

“Help the doctor with the sweeping, if you please. I shall pick up the egg that you smashed on my nice, clean floor.”

Holmes crouched before me and held the pan steady while I swept the flour into it.

After much complaining and sneezing from my companion, the flour had all been disposed of and the kitchen was clean again.

“Thank you gentlemen,” our housekeeper acknowledged as we washed our hands. “The cake should be ready now.”

The cake was a horrible mess! It was too wet due to the lack of accurate measurements and there were pieces of eggshell in it. Holmes’ argument was that it was rather good for a first attempt, but he was always careful not to insult Mrs. Hudson’s culinary efforts after that.

anonymous asked:

How would all the chocobros, Iggy included, react to their s/o imitating Ignis' little "I've come up with a new recipeh" line? Like, they'll do it when least expected and or when he's in the middle of saying it himself?? I need this like I need air to breathe

Tried to write this as a headcanon, couldn’t do it. So enjoy some shameless short-to-medium length drabbles, lovelies :)


New Recipeh

Prompto

It had become a game between you and Prompto. It had began as a way to make each other laugh while on the road; the two of you thinking of the most ridiculous things you could say to the other to make them crack a smile, or better yet, bust out laughing. The idea had dawned on you one afternoon, the instant Ignis had snapped his fingers after coming upon some Lucian tomatoes. Positioning yourself at Ignis’ back, you made eye contact with Prompto, snapped your own fingers, and did your best to mirror the expression and movements of your poor strategist.

Needless to say, Prompto was in pieces the first time you tried it. Ignis had given him the strangest look as he doubled over in silent laughter, turning to you. In an instant, you dropped the charade and mustered the most innocent face you could. 

As the chef raised his eyebrows at you in question, you shrugged, which only produced a loud snort from the blond goofball. 

He was lucky you were a much better actor than he was.

From that moment on, if you so much as whispered recipeh in his vicinity, it would reduce your lover to a cackling mess. You realized you were in too deep when Prompto began giving you his puppy-dog eyes every time Ignis said it and you didn’t copy him. Not that you really minded. Seeing the way his eyes lit up when he laughed was always worth it.

Noctis

The Moogle Chocobo Carnival was spectacular, better than anything you could have imagined. You could tell Noctis was having the time of his life as well, much as he tried to maintain his too-cool-for-school demeanor he sometimes adopted around you. But every time you came across some new wonder, he squeezed your hand a little tighter and pulled you along.

But midday came, and you both needed a break. There was a small pop-up cafe set up for the occasion, with specially themed dishes made specifically with the festival in mind. You didn’t exactly need to beg Noctis for a pit stop. 

You ordered, and the brightly-decorated pastries were set in front of you with refreshing vigor. They were lovely and delicious, and like nothing you’d had before. 

“Gonna have to tell Specs about these,” Noct said, his mouth full of cake.

You giggled and poked at your pastry with your fork. “He’d have a field day if he were here. Can you imagine?” You brandished the fork with a flourish, pointing it towards the sky. “Ah’ve come up with a new recipeh.

You took another bite before you realized that Noctis was silently staring at you, his eyes wide.

“Um… Noct? What’s up?”

He blinked once, then snorted loudly, nearly spraying you with cake crumbs. “Nice job,” his eyes darted up to meet yours, a sudden playful glint appearing, “but I can do better.”

“Oh can you now, Prince Perfect?”

“It’s all in the breath support. More like: Aaah’ve come up with a new recipeh!

You shoot back, matching his sly smile. “Recipeh.”

He scoots closer to you, changing the inflection. “Recipeh.”

It progressed like this back and forth until the two of you were yelling ‘recipeh’ in the middle of the crowded cafe, in your best terrible accents.

Gladiolus

It was late in the night. You’d volunteered to take first watch as everyone else had sauntered into the tent to sleep. You stared glumly into the fire, the boredom nearly driving you mad in the quiet night. Your eyes fell on the modest cookstove that Ignis had used to cook dinner. You could practically see the man snapping his fingers and setting to work. And that phrase he said… what was it again?

You said it, just barely breathing it out at first. The imitation of Ignis’ accent rolled off of your tongue, and you giggled softly at the absurdity. You tried it again, louder this time. With every utterance of the phrase, you became more and more bold, both in volume and in delivery. By the time you turned to see Gladio’s hulking form examining you, it had progressed into full-on Shakespearean acting.

Heat rushed to his face as he crossed his arms at you from the mouth of the tent. It was difficult to read his face clearly in the dim light, but his shoulders were shaking wildly with silent laughter.

“I… I had no idea you had such a talent for… acting,” he said, between gulps of air. 

You pursed your lips and gave him a swat to discourage his chuckling, but it only made him laugh harder. “Please don’t tell the others about this.”

He grinned smugly, wrapping you in his arms. “Or what?”

“Come on, Gladio, Ignis will poison my food or something!”

“Hey, maybe in exchange for my silence, you have to do something else for me.” His hand reached down and pinched your ass.

Heat rushed to your face once again, now for an entirely different reason. “Um, yeah, whatever–”

Before you could get the words out, his mouth was on yours.

Ignis

You were roaming the forest in search of new ingredients to try. Ignis had insisted at being up at the crack of dawn, as he assured you the foraging would be more plentiful, but you knew it was just an excuse to be alone for a while.

His graceful fingers were intertwined with yours, leading you through the trees. He seemed to be taking the errand far more seriously than you were, as was usual. His eyes scanned the ground for possible produce, while yours were turned toward the sky, watching the world wake up. It was there you spotted a familiar purple fruit dangling from a tree ahead, just out of your reach.

“A plum!” you nearly shout, breaking the silence and pulling him to the tree. 

Ignis jumped at your sudden outburst, but allowed himself to be towed toward the fruit.

You turn to him, squeezing his hand excitedly. “I know that fruit! We used to have a tree growing in our yard back in Insomnia! My mother used to cook with it!”

He squinted up at it from behind his glasses. “You’re certain?”

You roll your eyes at him. “I appreciate the caution, but I know what I’m on about. But I can’t reach it. Could you maybe…?”

You point up hopefully, and he gives you a small smirk, reaching to retrieve the fruit. He handed you the wild produce and flash him a grateful smile. You’re about to put it in your bag when an idea dawns on you. Your smile turning devious, you lift your newfound goods triumphantly and yell to the heavens, “Aah’ve come up with a new recipeh!

He freezes, and after moments of hearing only birds chirping, you worry that you’ve offended him. Finally, he blinks slowly, his mouth slightly ajar.

You hastily stuff the fruit in the bag, and your hand finds his again. “Ignis? I’m sorry, did I–”

He shakes his head, bemused, and a smile creeps onto his face. “I suppose I should not be surprised you have my… catchphrase down cold?”

You relax instantly when you hear the teasing in his voice. “You might say it kind of often. Might have heard it a few times.” You steal a quick kiss, pressing your lips to his softly. “You’d be surprised how quickly I can pick up on things.”

He gathers you in his arms and shakes his head again, a rare chuckle escaping. “Do I honestly sound like that?”

You giggle and nestle yourself into his embrace, the sounds of your laughter breaking the peace of the morning.

Falling For You

Originally posted by idolsgeneration

Sana x Reader

Fluff

Word Count: 597

Written by Admin LJ

(Author’s Note: I’m back! Hopefully now that the semester is over I’ll be able to bang out a scenario every other day. Thanks for being patient and sticking around! Sorry this scenario is lacking a bit, it’s hard to get back into the swing of things!)


You were absolutely head over heels for Sana the moment you laid eyes on her. Who wouldn’t be? She was beautiful, with her long, milk chocolate hair that fell in thick, wavy locks over her shoulders, her warm eyes, and the prettiest smile you would ever come to know. To say you were smitten was an understatement. You never believed in love at first sight, but the way your heart skipped a beat when your eyes first met hers, a warm feeling filling your chest, you knew you had fallen for her.

Sana was oblivious, of course, no matter how many times you complimented her or brought her coffee at work, your smile shy but bright every time you saw her. She saw it as a friendly gesture (which, of course, it was) and nothing more, leaving you every day with the fear that she’d never be interested in you.

You had asked Sana to hang out a few times, all of which she agreed to, and had a great time. She was fun to be around, and had a warm aura about her that only drew you in even more. You two spent hours walking around the neighborhood, playing in the park, or just hanging around in your apartment, watching movies while eating takeout.

Weeks, months past and your feelings were always the same, your romantic affection never once dwindling. While you feared you’d never catch Sana’s attention quite like she caught yours, you still valued her friendship, despite it only causing you to fall harder and harder for her with each passing day.

It was as if you had been blessed with a miracle one week, when you had invited Sana to hang out at your place for the third time that week, which she agreed to with no hesitation. You two had been goofing off, as usual, playfully nudging each other each time you passed her coming out of the kitchen with dinner, and it wasn’t until Sana shoved you with a mischievous grin on her face, that you decided to stick your leg out as she passed to get a glass of water.

Any other person would have been able to recover from it. But not Sana, of course. Poor, clumsy Sana, with a dramatic display of flailing arms, fell to the ground the moment her leg collided with yours.

You felt immediate regret the second Sana landed on the floor with a thud, and with a few mumbled “oh my god I’m so sorry”’s, you took her arms and began to pull her up from the ground, your face bright red with embarrassment and shame. Her eyes came to be level with yours as you lifted her up, and the moment her warm chocolate eyes met yours, she knew she had fallen for you too.


“Happy anniversary, cutie.”

Sana arrived at your place bright and early, waking you up at an ungodly hour, in her pajamas, with a cake in her hands and a smile on her face. She had baked it herself, which was an amazing feat, which made your heart do a backflip. Or three.

You had turned on the TV as Sana carried two plates with cake to the couch, and your morning was spent cuddling with her, eating sweet, sugary cake for breakfast, and you couldn’t help but smile widely at how everything had turned out for the two of you.

“You know,” you mumbled through a particularly big piece of cake, crumbs flying as you spoke, which made Sana giggle- and oh god, it was music to your ears-, “I still can’t believe you actually fell for me, after so long of trying to win you over.”

Sana snorted. “I didn’t fall for you. You tripped me.”

“Yeah. Best decision of my life.”

Making a Fat Piggy

Charlie licked his lips as he scanned the computer screen. He scrolled through the many pictures of his friend, Tom Nevin. Charlie had a crush on Tom. He loved Tom’s slightly chubby belly. Charlie come across a picture of Tom where he was on the floor with his belly showing. This really turnt Charlie on. He just wanted to fatten Tom up and play with his belly. Charlie smirked. He knew exactly what he was going to do…

Tom was sat at his desk, trying real hard to ignore the fact that he had work to be done. He sighed and turnt to talk to his friends.
‘Im so bored’ moaned Tom.
'Same’ replied Jack, who was sat next to Tom. 'I dont understand anything on this sheet’
'You can say that again’ Groaned Charlie, who was sat behind the two. Suddenly, the bell rang. All the students started to pack up and leave.
'Make sure you finish the work at home. I will be checking next lesson’ said Mr Ford as the students started to leave the class. It was time. As Tom placed his backpack on, Charlie turnt to him.
'Hey Tom’ Charlie gulped 'Doing anything tonight?’
'No, probably going to play Fifa or something, why’ Replied Tom.
'Do you wanna come round mine?’ Asked Charlie.
'Sure, why not!’ Smiled Tom as he left with Charlie, unknowing of what is going to happen to him…

Charlie and Tom reached the house. Charlie opened the rusty gate and reached the door. He placed his key into the lock and pushed open the door.
'Cheers’ said Tom as he entered the house. He threw off his bag and Charlie shut the door.
'So, want something to eat?’ Asked Charlie, trying to hide his smirk.
'Yeah, go on’ Charlie gestured Tom into the living room.
'Just sit on the sofa while i go see what we got’ Said Charlie as Tom sat down.
'You sure your Mum and Dad wont mind?’ Asked Tom as Charlie stumbled into the kitchen.
'Nah. They dont care.’ Charlie smirked as he started to fill a wheelbarrow with cakes, pizza, cookies and other fatty foods. Tom glanced round the living room. He pulled out his phone to see a text from his girlfriend Becca:
-'Hey Babe. You up for meeting tonite? Xxx’-
Tom replied:
-'Sorry babe. At Charlies house. Text yah when im home. XX’-
Tom locked his phone when he saw Charlie enter with a wheelbarrow full of food.
'Isnt that going overboard Charlie’ Asked Tom, dazed by the sight.
'Nah. You’re going to eat it all though’ Smired Charlie as he stuffed a cupcake into Tom’s mouth. Tom tried hard to resist swallowing the food. He whacked Charlies hand which allowed Tom to spit out the food.
'What the fuck Charlie!’ Screeched Tom as he tried to sit up. Charlie quickly pounced on Tom, pinning him down onto the sofa by sitting on his legs.
'Oh calm down’ said Charlie as he started to unbutton Tom’s shirt. Tom tried to push Charlie off, but failed.
'What the actual fuck!’ Screamed Tom as Charlie ripped the shirt from Tom’s body to reveal a small plushy belly. Charlie squished the roll of fat.
'Oh im going to make you so fat!’ Laughed Charlie as he squished the small squishy belly.
'Charlie!? What the hell is wrong with you!’ Cried Tom as Charlie continued to run his hand across his tummy. Charlie shoved a cupcake into Tom’s mouth with a larger force than last time. Tom tried to hold back from swallowing the food, but failed. As soon as the cupcake was swallowed, another was shoved into Tom’s mouth. Tom moaned as he continued to try and free from Charlies tight grip, but it was too hard. Charlie smiled as he continued to fill up Tom’s mouth with food.

TWO HOURS LATER

Tom groaned as Charlie squsihed Tom’s belly.
'Look at it! It’s getting bigger!’ Smirked Charlie as he poked Tom’s flabby belly. His belly was now bigger. It took on the size of a small soccer ball. It was flabby and started to hang over Tom’s tight trousers. Tom now started to grow moobs, which took the shape of small mounds. He also started to get large love handles. Charlie got off Tom’s lap and made Tom stand on all fours on the floor. Charlie placed a large chocolate cake infront of Tom. Charlie sat on Tom’s back.
'Eat all of it’ Said Charlie as he spanked Tom’s round butt. Tom groaned nd took a large bite out of the cake. The chocolate icing smudged around Tom’s face as the moist texture of the cake melted inside his mouth. Charlie rubbed Tom’s bubble butt which strained against the tight trousers. Suddenly the Trousers ripped down his backside. Tom groaned at the feeling, which caused cake crumbs to fall out his mouth.
'Oh my…’ Blushed Charlie. 'My piggies gone and ripped his trousers! You are getting so big piggy!’ Charlie spanked Tom’s bum, which caused a ripple across his body.
“Im getting so fat” thought Tom as he continued to demolish the cake “Why is Charlie doing this to me?”
After another ten minutes of Tom eating, the cake was completely consumed. Tom spluttered as he started to breathe heavilly.
'Well done my giant piggy!’ Smiled Charlie as he got off Tom’s back. 'Hope you up for more’ Charlie place another four large chocolate cakes infront of Tom.
'No. Please’ Spluttered Tom as he started to pant heavilly.
Charlie sat back on Tom’s back 'Eat them now piggy’
'Too. Full’ Groaned the bloated piggy.
'Eat them now or im going to call over your entire family to see what a fat pig you’ve become’ Charlie smirked. Tom sighed as he took a bite out of the first cake.
'Good piggy!’ Laughed Charlie as he ran his finger down the rip of Tom’s trousers.

-HALF HOUR LATER-

'Wow!’ Squealed Charlie as Tom’s trousers completely ripped from Tom’s body. Tom groaned as the trousers ripped from his body, leaving only his underwear as the last piece of clothing on his body. Tom turnt to see his large butt was on show which had a pair of boxers so tight on his body. They were so tight, his fat cheeks started to flow over them, looking like his ass was eating them.
'Damn piggy!’ Charlie blushed as he squished Tom’s butt 'They flew off! Looks like you’re boxers have become a thong! They look so tight on you Piggy!’ Charlie smacked Tom’s right butt cheek which caused Tom to moan. 'Continue eating your cakes piggy! Only one and a half left!’ Tom moaned as he continued to fill his mouth with cake.

-TWENTY MINUTES LATER-

Tom took the last bite of the cake in front of him. Crumbs fell from his mouth as he chewed the last bite.
'Well done piggy!’ Exclaimed Charlie as he sat on Tom’s back. 'I knew you could eat all them cakes!’ Charlie got off Tom’s back. 'Sit up piggy!’ Tom struggled, but managed to sit upright, leaning his back against the sofa. Tom’s belly hung over his underwear and his thighs. Hhe had a few rolls on his belly which rolled like a rolling pin. Tom’s moobs now took the appearance of a girls pair of boobs. His thighs nearly tripled in size, they were now soft and squished on the floor. Tom also had a number of chins which hung under his original.
'Look at you know piggy! You’ve gotten so fat!’ Charlie grabbed Tom’s love handles and shook, causing Tom’s whole belly to bounce. Tom moaned as Charlie continued to bounce. Then there was a knock at the door.
'Be back in a sec my piggy’ smiled Charlie as he stood up and left the room.

Two minutes later, Charlie returned with eight pizza’s, eight portions of fries and tons of burgers.
'You ready for more my piggy?’ Chuckled Charlie as he placed the food on the floor.
'No. Please’ Tom tried to get up, but struggled.
'No point trying to escape my piggy!’ Said Charlie as he sat infront of Tom. 'You are going to eat and thats it’
'Too. Fat’ Moaned Tom as he placed a hand on his tummy. 'Im so. Big’
'Thats it, touch you’re body. Look and feel how fat you’ve got. Look how big you’re belly is. Look at the way it sags down over your underwear. Look how big  you’re tits are, they are bigger than your girlfriends!’ Charlie moaned 'You are getting so fat! But not fat enough!’ Charlie picked up a slice of pizza and shoved it into Tom’s mouth. Tom moaned as the cheese flavour spread across his mouth.
“Im so fat” Thought Tom as Charlie placed another slice into his mouth. 'Ive gotten. So big. I cant even. Move. Im too. Big.“ Charlie continued to stuff food into Tom’s mouth. Tom was now helpless. He was too fat to move, being stuffed non stop and was being sat on the lap by his 'friend’. Tom moaned as Charlie smiled.

-TWO HOURS LATER-

'Last burger piggy!’ smirked Charlie as he placed the last burger into Tom’s mouth. Tom moaned as he chewed and swallowed the meaty burger.
'Well done piggy! You ate everything!’ Smiled Charlie. Tom groaned. Tom was huge. Tom’s belly now pushed his legs apart and was touching the floor. His moobs were now the size of a large breasted woman. His moobs sat ontop of his flabby belly. His thighs were thick and huge and were squished against the floor. Huge love handles formed on Tom’s hips, followed by rolls up the side of his body.
'Damn Piggy. You are so big!’ Charlie grabbed Tom’s belly.
'Ooh’ moaned Tom 'Stop. Please.’
'Look at you! You’ve gotten so fat!’ Charlie moaned. Suddenly Charlie lunged ontop of Tom and kissed him. Tom pulled back and their lips disconnected.
'Whats wrong piggy? Dont want to be my piggy?’ Charlie leaned in to Tom’s face 'Kiss me back now, or else’
Tom sighed and leaned in towards Charlie. Their lips both connected as they kissed. Charlie’s tongue broke into Tom’s mouth and danced around. Tom moaned as he did the same with his tongue.
"Why is he doing this” Thought Tom “And why am i kissing him back?” They continued to kiss as Charlies hand squished and played with Tom’s fat, moving around his fat body. Charlie pulled away from the kiss and smirked. His cheeks were red and he was sweating 'Ive been wanting this for years Tom’ Tears started to fall slowly from Tom’s eyes. He is now Charlie’s piggy.

LES MIS MODERN AU — broship aesthetics: eponine & jehan

those days when you don’t want to exist, blanket burritos and the sound of rain drumming against the windowpanes, tender caring for potted plants, cutting your own hair, mismatched outfits and dyeing clothes, silently mouthing poems, cake crumbs and loose threads and the last lingering notes of a song, teetering on the edge of pavements, imagining alternate universes, insomnia or sleeping for sixteen hours and nothing in between. (requested by @jordsie