cookies in the morning

Random ask meme I thought of y'all can reblog if ya want
  • 1. What does your full name mean? Have your parents told you where they got your name from? What did they almost name you?
  • 2. What feature of yours do people make the most positive comments about? (examples- hair, eyes, smile)
  • 3. How do you like your coffee/tea? If your not a coffee or tea person, what do you drink instead? How do you like it served?
  • 4. If you could move to any country you want and live there for the rest of your life, what country would it be?
  • 5. What is your aesthetic?
  • 6. Are there any aesthetics that you don't get the appeal of?
  • 7. What are your favorite smells?
  • 8. Do you like gemstones? What are your favorite kinds?
  • 9. Do you have any weird food combinations that you like?
  • 10. If you play video games, what are your favorite titles? What are your favorite tracks from their OSTs?
  • 11. Favorite 70s songs, if any?
  • 12. Favorite 80s songs, if any?
  • 13. Favorite 90s songs, if any?
  • 14. Favorite 2000s/2010s songs, if any?
  • 15. What songs make you feel happy?
  • 16. What songs make you feel nostalgic?
  • 17. What are your favorite instruments to hear in music?
  • 18. Are there any old fashion trends you want to come back?
  • 19. What's your favorite period of history? What do you like about it?
  • 20. Are there any small, regular, every-day sounds you hear that you just cannot stand?
  • 21. If you were a singer, what genre would you want to sing for? What genre do you think your voice would actually be most fit for?
  • 22. How do you organize your songs in music apps?
  • 23. What are your favorite sounds?
  • 24. You have a certain fictional character that you find comfort in when you feel sad? How happy do they make you? Do you ever sometimes wish they were real, and they were a friend of yours?
  • 25. Do you like to give your favorite fictional characters affectionate nicknames?
  • 26. Favorite 90s cartoon?
  • 27. Are you into Youtube? What kind of videos do you typically watch on there?
  • 28. If you could choose only one, which one of your favorite celebrities, if any, would you want to be best friends with?
  • 29. Do you like to collect things? If so, what do you collect?
  • 30. What's your favorite time of the day? What season of the year do you think it's best in?
  • 31. What's your favorite type of weather? How do you like it?
  • 32. Cats or dogs? Favorite type of breed of either of them? If you don't like cats or dogs, what animals do you like, and what are your favorite breeds of them?
  • 33. What's your favorite type of voice to listen to?
  • 34. If, and this is a very strong if, if you were to ever have children, what names would you give them? Why, if you have a reason?
  • 35. If you don't have any pets, or at least any pets you named, what pets would you buy, and what would you name them?

ok but Pan di Stelle is the Oreo of Italy

it’s mainly a cookie

but you can find it as a snack too

or a Mooncake

or as a whole cake

or an ice-cream

or cereal

or a cereal bar

these are all actual products and God only knows how many more there are that I didn’t know existed, Pan di Stelle is amazing

Young Jonathan has been locked in his room for two years. Arguments through the walls and scraps left by random men connected him to the outside world. After an evening of screaming and ungodly noises last week, it has been quiet. A cookie has been slid under his door each morning since.

anonymous asked:

“You bake when you’re stressed and sometimes you give me cookies, but recently you’re giving me whole baskets each day, now I’m not complaining but are you okay?” au sterek? <3

OK, I wrote you a quick little thing. :)

now also on ao3

*

When Derek shows up at Stiles’ back door that morning with a basket full of about three dozen cookies, all carefully iced to look like Batman and Spider-Man, Stiles doesn’t say anything. He just gets up from the kitchen table and opens the screen door, and then he looks down at the basket for a long, long moment, and then he rubs the heels of his hands into his eyes and groans.

He looks kind of… unkempt. He’s wearing the same sweatpants and lacrosse hoodie he’d had on two days ago when Derek saw him at his mailbox, and his hair is sticking up everywhere, and it’s obvious he hasn’t shaved in a while because there’s some actual stubble there. Derek didn’t think Stiles was even capable of facial hair. It only adds to his attractiveness, but still, Derek can’t help but be concerned.

Derek doesn’t usually start conversations, but today he feels like making an exception. “Are you okay? This is a lot more baking than usual, even for you.”

“What? What do you mean?” Stiles says, dropping his hands to his sides. His face cycles through about five or six different expressions before settling on something that’s probably trying to say “innocent and oblivious,” but… well. Derek might not know Stiles that well, but he knows Stiles is definitely not either of those things, ever.

“The cookies,” Derek says slowly. “That you leave on my doorstep a few times a week while I’m out on my morning run.”

Stiles glares down at the cookies Derek’s holding like they’ve betrayed him.

“We don’t talk about it,” Derek says slowly, unsure, “but I thought you knew that I knew it was you. I mean, no one else in the neighborhood even talks to me.”

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FightWrite: Your Killers Need to Kill

Killers need to kill. It’s surprising how many writers ignore this very specific and important piece of the ones they claim are killers, heartless or not. Sometimes, there’s a difference between the character we describe in the text and the actions the character takes. An author can tell me over and over that a character is a deadly and dangerous person who strikes ruthlessly without mercy, but if they don’t behave that way in the actual story then I’m not going to buy it.

Show versus tell: the difference between who the author says the character is and the actions the character takes in the story. Especially if the actions counteract the description. Now, you do have characters who lie, characters who misrepresent themselves, characters who say one thing and do another, but these are not the characters we’re talking about. This is about ensuring that you, the author, know the character you are writing. Unless you’re hiding their habits, let us glimpse the worst they’re capable of.

Monster. I could tell Jackson I was a monster, but he wouldn’t believe me. He saw a strawberry blonde, five feet eleven inches. A waitress, a Pilates nut, not a murderer. The nasty scar across my slim waist that I’d earned when I was ten? He thought I’d gotten it from a mugging at twenty one. Just as a natural layer of womanly fat hid away years of physical conditioning, I hid myself behind long hair, perky makeup, and a closet full of costumes bought from Macy’s and Forever 21. To him, I was Grace Johnson. The woman who cuddled beside him in bed, the woman who hogged the sheets, who screamed during horror movie jump scares, the woman who forgot to change the toilet paper, who baked cookies every Saturday morning, the woman who sometimes wore the same underwear three days in a row. The woman he loved.

No, I thought as I studied his eyes. Even with a useless arm hanging at my side, elbow crushed; my nose smashed, blood coursing down from the open gash in my forehead, a bullet wound in my shoulder, Sixteen’s gun in my hand, the dining room table shattered, and his grandmother’s China scattered across the floor. He’d never believe Grace Johnson was a lie. Not until I showed him, possibly not even then. Not for many more years to come. Probably, I caught my mental shrug, if he lives.

“Grace,” Jackson said. “Please…” The phone clattered the floor, his blue eyes wide, color draining from his lips. “This isn’t you.”

Gaze locking his, I levered Sixteen’s pistol at her knee.

“Don’t,” she whispered. “Morrison will take you in, he’ll fix this.” Her voice cracked, almost a sob. For us, a destroyed limb was a death sentence. Once, we swore we’d die together. Now, she can mean it. “Thirteen, if you run then there’s no going back.”

My upper lip curled. “You don’t know me.” I had no idea which one I was talking to. “You never did.”

My finger squeezed the trigger.

Sixteen grunted, blood slipping down her lip. In the doorway, Jackson screamed.

Do it and mean it. Let it be part of their character development, regardless of if which way you intend to go. In the above example, there’s a dichotomy present between the character of Thirteen and her cover Grace Johnson. There’s some question, even for the character, about which of them they are. It sets up a beginning of growth for the character as she runs, but it also fails to answer what will be the central question in the story: who am I? Which way will I jump?

If Thirteen doesn’t kill Sixteen, if the scene answers the question at the beginning then why would you need to read the story?

Below the cut, we’ll talk about some ways to show their struggles.

-Michi

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🌷things to be happy about #2!🌷

• lemonade
• sleeping in on weekends
• rebuilding trust in ppl
• unexpected calls
• comfortable silences
• vacations
• the smell of fresh cut grass
• braids in ur hair
• opening up to someone
• running under sprinklers
• waking up feeling good about urself
• photo albums
• shampoos that smell good
• hot cups of tea
• surrounding urself with the right ppl
• end of a school year
• sunny rooms
• good hair days
• compliments
• getting rid of insecurities
• being determined to bring change
• infectious smiles
• rainy days
• watermelons
• cooking something for the first time
• lazy mornings
• cookie dough
• long drives
• ppl who can make u feel okay just by being around

Love Notes from the Venus Signs

Venus in Aries:     
     It was like a moment of clarity, the day we met; a sunny blur cast on morning dew and you glimmered like the god damn ocean itself. Maybe I shouldn’t have grabbed your hand, or I shouldn’t have run or screamed, “you- attractive one.” But when you see so much light in one person, you just have to do it. Nothing matters, then, just them. Just you.

Venus in Taurus:
     I never fancied romance novels because there was too much plot and too little character. Men aren’t so dynamic and girls can’t hold their tongues. But you have the finesse of fine wine. In your silence I find comfort and in your irritation I know that what we are is real. Because books don’t explain the way a lover’s hand on your hip can silence the chaos in your mind and lull you to sleep. You are the most difficult person I’ve ever had the pleasure of interacting with, and I will fight for us, I will fight for our love.

Venus in Gemini:
    I don’t know where to start. Remember that bird we saw a few days ago- yeah the pigeon I think. Well I know you think street birds are dirty, but when it flew off into the air and circled us, you wrinkled your nose a little. You didn’t see me smiling because you were watching the pigeon, but I was mesmerized. You’re beautiful, not just because of your nose or eyes or wonderfully erotic body, but because of everything you do. And when you pulled me away for cover, I couldn’t stop laughing. Partly because you stepped in a big wad of gum, but partly because I’ve never been this happy. I love you.

Venus in Cancer:
   Nights with you are the best. Your arms are a coven, a person reminder that I am part of something greater than myself, that I am worth something. Before you, there was a loneliness that never left, a creep of darkness that followed me and swarmed me as I slept. You are my everything. I will support every decision you make, I will be here when you can’t hold a strong front- when life gets too hard. Because, love, if anyone understands, it’s me. And I know how to be soft, how to hold you until your tears dry and how to bake your favorite cookies. I will tell you I love you every morning and every night as long as we are together, and I will mean it every time.

Venus in Leo:
   People saw a lot in me, maybe they still do. You always have. The thing about people is they come and go, but they don’t know me. You know the way I like to sleep in until noon and what dumb memes will make me laugh. You know how to make me feel special when everyone else sees someone who doesn’t exist. Your kisses are important to me, not because you mean it, but because you understand who I am and you’re still willing to fight for me. Cuddle me into the night and tell me those joke your coworkers like, they make me giggle. I love you for everything that you do, I love you for making me feel real. 

Venus in Virgo:
    This is a confession, nothing more and nothing less. I am neurotic. I find solace in cleaning and can’t have sex knowing that their are dishes in the sink. I know that I am riddled with a touch of crazy, but you see more in me. You find me charming and understand that everything I do for you is because I love you. For whatever reason, telling you isn’t easy enough. I want to show you. I want to help you shop for groceries and then satisfy you fully in bed. I want you to know that I can change for you, but you never seem to mind my quirks. You are how I know love exists. 

Venus in Libra:
    My divine, I never doubted your existence. I wish I could have saved every first experience to share with you, and only you. There is a softness when you look at me, when you graze my body and conjoin our fingers until they are so tightly interlocked I believe we may never separate. It is in your presence, in your spontaneous flowers and mountain retreats, that I know this is where I’m meant to be. Nothing is full without you. Even in your bitterness I am contented, although I will do anything you make you happy. You are my whole heart, my other half, my love. 

Venus in Scorpio:
    The world is cruel. We grow up with pain, reoccurring and pungent in our viscera. It doesn’t always heal either. And people will cause it with their carelessness, using others as if they are puppets. It is in you that I can heal, from your scent, within your laugh, and in the breath of your sleep. There is purity within you, a truth that I am fixated upon. I want to delve into the depth of your mind and comfort your pains, I want to hold you and understand you until you are fully exposed and fully fixed from the trials of your past. There is no person as rich with depth as you, no person so worthy of complete love. You have given to me without hesitation, and I long to share with you everything I have.

Venus in Sagittarius:
    The world seems small when you think about it long enough, or when you look up at the midnight sky and see the flaming memories of stars that once were. We are that, a microcosm of existence- a memory recurring time and time again. But no matter how small I am, I am overwhelmed with the concept of you and you totality. There is no person worth this short trip, no one except you. Your company is valuable, your opinions intrigue me, and you have a curiosity for this world that rivals mine. It’s okay that we fight, I think, even when you’re wrong. You are a star in my mind, ever-present until the day I die, and maybe in another lifetime. 

Venus in Capricorn:
    I am not one to share myself. I find solace in safety, I find solace in predictability. You fight everything I have refused to share. You don’t let me leave, even when I’m certain that I’m best left to my own devices. I never wanted you gone, I never wanted silence between us, but my head is raging with fear. I can’t handle heartbreak and I can’t handle humiliation. I promise that as long as you don’t let me leave, I will help you. I will be loyal, I will hold you when you sleep, and I will be here when you need support. You are worth the risk an I love you with all that I am.

Venus in Aquarius:
   There are moments where I find myself totally lost and totally irrational. The moment I knew I’d fallen for you was when you’d become too invested. I thought I’d drop you like I’d done with others in the past, but I couldn’t. You were too important- someone I cared about, someone I craved to touch. And now, honey, I think about you every freakin’ day. I think about you from the crack of dawn to the moment I fall asleep. And even when I need to be alone, I think about you. You’re special: curious, insightful, interesting. I see the world in you. And now, well, nothing can convince me we’re better apart. I love you with every strange thing I am.

Venus in Pisces:
   Nothing blisters my skin so gently as your morning kisses, which I cherish. The haze of midnight holds your last breath, the one before I elicit the most delicious of moans, and fall into a daze of dreams about us. I am hopelessly risen from this earthly pull, I am devoted to our love, one which I knew to be destined. With you I will be ever-present, and ever-kind. You are what makes flowers bloom and raindrops crystallize. With you, I am completely enamored and totally in love.

Harry Styles - “I Love You”


Ever since you met Harry, your life had changed. You were traveling around the world, accompanying him to interviews, standing off to the side as he did his thing, went to shows and events. It was a whirlwind of constant traveling and always going. You wouldn’t change it for the world though. 

It was the down moments between all of that craziness that you counted as your favorite. The moments of being curled up in bed, whether it be his, yours, or one in a hotel, wrapped up tight in each others arms. You wouldn’t even have to say anything, his fingers would brush through your hair, your head resting on his chest as you trace his tattoos with your finger tips. 

When you did get to be home for an extended period of time, he would take you on dates, nice dinners out, occasionally go on a shopping trip of two, but mostly the two of you enjoyed each others company in the comfort and privacy of his home in London. You would watch movies, cook dinner together, drink a bit of alcohol and he would make you laugh with countless silly little jokes. 

You could easily say that you had fallen in love with Harry but as neither of you had taken that next step in the relationship, you had never said it out loud. It wasn’t that you didn’t think Harry felt the same, you were sure he did, but the right moment for it to come out would show itself and that moment just hadn’t come yet. 

The two of you had been at his home in London for a few days now, still having a few days yet to relax together before he had to fly to LA for some meetings. You would not be accompanying him as you had things going on here so you were spending every second together possible until he had to leave. 

Today you both decided to bake some cookies. It had been a lazy morning after breakfast, curled up on the couch watching some Nicholas Sparks romantic comedy that he had chosen. You had mentioned that cookies sounded good so after getting dressed, the the two of you made a trip to the grocery store and stocked up on all the needed items to make multiple batches of cookies. 

“No, love,” Harry reprimanded, taking the wrong size measuring cup from your hand. “This one.” He exchanges the wrong for the right, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

“That’s the one I meant.” You mutter, reaching for the ingredient you were about to add. “I know what I’m doing, Haz.” He laughs and nods, reaching over to wrap an arm around your hips, pulling you against him as you pout the ingredients into the bowl in front of you. 

“I know wha’ I’m doing betteh though.” You sense his smirk after he speaks this so you turn your head to see that face of his, your eyes narrowed. “After all.. I used to be a ba-” You drop the measuring cup and bring your hand up to cover his mouth before he could even finish that sentence. 

“You mutter that phrase one more time around me and I swear you’ll never see the light of day again.” You see his eyes light up with the grin he so desperately wanted to let out but with your hand over his mouth still he was unable. “Got it?” He gives a nod, his eyes still alight but you move your hand none the less and there is that grin. He leans in to press a kiss to your cheek before the two of you go back to your task. 

It was after the cookies were in the oven and the two of you go about starting to clean up the mess you had made. The two of you were moving in sync with one another, working on your task at hand, getting things done. He was rinsing out the bowl and you were putting the unused ingredients away. It happened as you crossed the kitchen, the large bag of flour in your hands. You aren’t sure what your foot caught on but suddenly you were stumbling and in your panic to catch yourself and not hit the floor, you drop the bag of flour. 

“Fuck!” You exclaim right as it hits the floor. And because it’s flour, the bag promptly explodes and flour covers the entire floor .. and you. It had floated up in it’s explosion and you were consumed by a cloud of white. You began to cough just as Harry’s laugh rang out around the room. “’s’not fuckin’ funny!” You say through your coughs but he was basically doubled over, his hands on his stomach, his face turning red. 

“Oh my,” He wipes a tear away from the corner of his eye as he stands up straight, a wide grin still on that handsome face of his. “Oh, I love you.” After the words tumble from his mouth your eyes widen, as does his. He had said it, he said those three words that neither of you had dared utter yet. “I..I-i mean..” He scratches at the back of his neck, his entire face was flushed bright red and he was opening and closing his mouth, small sounds coming out but no words actually formed. 

You stand there, covered head to toe in flour, standing in a pile of it, your entire kitchen covered, but you were grinning like a fool. Harry loved you, he really really loved you. You felt you had already known that but to hear him say it, to hear those words fall from those gorgeous lips of his… it was perfect. 

“Harry,” You cut off his stammering and cross the room, taking his face in your hands. His stubble was rough against the smooth palm of your hand but you hold firm, making those green eyes meet yours as he shuts his mouth. “I love you, too.” You say these words with a wide grin, your voice a bit breathless. 

“Good.” Harry finally says, his arms wrapping around your hips as he slowly dips his face to meet yours. The kiss was so gentle, his lips barely ghosting across yours but the moment was full of such passion and love. He pulls you close, clearly not caring about the fact that you were getting white flour all over his black jeans and shirt. He lifts you a bit, your toes grazing the floor as he grins. “Been wantin’ to say that fo’ a while, really.” He confesses, setting you back down. 

“Me too.” You both share a smile before his lips press to yours more firmly, molding against yours as his hair falls into his face, tickling your cheek. You reach up as he intensifies the kiss, tangling your fingers through those curls, allowing yourself to be pulled even deeper, his tongue sliding against yours. You knew the two of you were about to show one another just how much you loved each other. 

Excuses 💐

A/N: This is a part II of Braids. Please please please read that first so you may understand the intimacy of their close friendship. I really hope you all like it - please send me your feedback here. Thank you, love you, and happy reading :)

Harry doesn’t remember the last time he felt this giddy.

He thinks it was the time you had finally agreed to see him perform, and he had found a bouquet of flowers in his dressing room with a small card that read “If you were a flower, you’d be a damndelion”. There was no signature on the card, but he immediately recognized your scribbled handwriting. He had worn a grin for the rest of the night, feeling utterly enamoured by your silent act of kindness, wondering how someone with that much heart fell into his crazy life.

Now that he was thinking about it, he had always been showered by your good nature. It was what had attracted him to you in the first place. Your gentle personality had the ability to touch others in a way that made them feel like the most important person on the earth. And now that Harry’s watched your kindness spread through the hearts of the ones he loved most, he promised himself to finally be honest with you … even if it meant crossing the blurred lines of your close friendship.  

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Nicknames

Prompt/Summary: You’ve given the rest of the team nicknames, but Bucky wonders why you’ve never given him one.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: fluff, fluff fluffity fluff fluff

Word Count: 1197

Author’s Note:  Sorry Bluebird isn’t done.  So you get this instead.  I had a dance performance on Sunday and all of my evenings have been taken up by dance practice.  All done now, so back to writing. 

Originally posted by snowfox934

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Cherry Pie

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Everyone’s two favorite things: baking and (oral) sex with Dean

A/N: written for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing ‘s Favorite Things Challenge! (sorry I was so agonizingly close to the deadline) also, it’s my first time writing smut for Dean, so be kind to me… also i’m not here for the “Dean’s favorite pie” discourse, so don’t hit me up with messages about what his actual favorite is.  I don’t give a shit.

Warnings: Oral sex (f receiving), baking with dean (yes that’s a warning), minor angst, mostly smut tbh

Words: 2955

tags: @feelmyroarrrr @sistasarah-sallysaidso @daybreak96 @doct0rstrange @trade-baby-blues @deanssweetheart23 @lipstickandwhiskey @impala-dreamer  @ravengirl94 @daughterofthebrowncoats

The smell of baking pie sits heavy on the air, growing stronger with each pie you pull from the oven.  You slide the hot tin onto the table, and stare at the collection of pies and cookies you’ve baked over the last four hours.  So far you had two apple and one pecan pie, a dozen chocolate chip cookies and a dozen of your own personal shortbread recipe.  

Not enough, was all you could think.  The stress of your argument with Dean was still weighing on your shoulders.  Cherry was Dean’s favorite, was the next thought. You eyed the bowl of fresh cherries you’d pitted and washed when you’d first started baking.  When you’d rolled out of the bed this morning, you’d been disoriented until you realized you were in your old bedroom, without Dean.  Then you’d remembered the argument from the previous night.  Which was why you’d started baking at six this morning when you usually found yourself sleeping in Dean’s warm arms until noon.  

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