Whats A Stereotypical Food From Ur Culture That U Absolutely Love.

What’s a stereotypical food from ur culture that u absolutely love.

I hope it's okay and not a reblog no-no, but I'd like to append my appreciation for your update to the other thoughts about your fic because I echo them completely. Very well stated @yarrystyleeza !!

I also loved the little thought processes of the characters. The "well no, I really shouldn't be thinking about that right now..." type thoughts because first, it's a perfect set-up (especially for Matt) and second, WHO HASN'T DONE THAT?? Gotten so much into the headdspace before anything has even really gotten going. Here it's just two adults perfectly free to fall into each others arms and yet the. mutual. pining. and. trying. to. talk. themselves. out. of. what. they. feel. because. this. cannot. really. be. happening. to. me. right? right? Reading it is like--oh heck just hook it straight into my veins. I love it.

I had a wonderful time reading about the time at the Farmer's Market. I love shopping at the markets like that. I'd have to stay away from the mangos though: allergic to the point of anaphylactic shock sadly. Pity because they taste soooo good. Yeah, found out the hard way. But crepes, oh my lord, do I love to make those even w/o mangos. Savory crepes, sweet crepes, they're all delicious. By the time I finish your chapters I'm having a hard time figuring out if I'm salivating over Matt or the food. I think it's both. Yep, I think it's definitely both.

She's going back to the restaurant for Sunday brunch...*giggles*

Well done!

Cooking Up Love, Chapter 5

Pairing: Chef!Matt Murdock x F!Journalist!Reader

Rating: T (for now, might change, probably won't)

Story Summary: Here

Warnings/Tags: Hallmark levels of fluffy, cheesy goodness (and speed that their relationship develops, lol), no use of Y/N, Matt is not a vigilante, but he is a naughty-minded flirt 😉

Word Count: exactly 3200 for this chapter

A/N: And we're back! Thank you to everyone who's been enjoying this story so far, and please let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list for this or any of my others!

Tag List: @yarrystyleeza @hailey-murdock @mattkinsella @bellaxgiornata @danzer8705 @chezagnes @shouldbestudying41 @thepunisherfrankcastle

Ugh, this is ridiculous, you thought to yourself the next morning as you tossed yet another rejected outfit onto your bed.  You had been torn between wanting to dress professionally since you were technically working and wearing something more casual since you knew you would be watching Chef Murdock cook and didn't want to accidentally ruin one of your nicer outfits, and had ransacked your closet in order to find something in-between. It's not like it actually matters what I wear anyway.

Finally you pulled on a pair of jeans and a cute-but-casual top then hurriedly finished getting ready before heading towards Daredevil.

You sucked in a breath as you spotted Chef Murdock waiting for you outside of the restaurant. Goddamn, even dressed casually he's sexy as all hell.

He was dressed in a black T-shirt and jeans today, paired with black sneakers and a comfortably-worn-looking brown leather jacket.

His head turned towards you as you approached. "Good morning," he said with a smile.

"Hi," you replied. "How'd you know it was me?"

"You slowed down as you approached me," Chef Murdock replied. "If it hadn't been you you more than likely wouldn't have changed your pace, so I made an educated guess."

"Oh, okay, yeah, that makes sense." You shook your head. "I guess you kinda have to pay extra attention to your surroundings, huh?"

Chef Murdock nodded. “Yeah, I’ve had to learn to utilize my remaining senses to adapt to the environment around me.”

He held a to-go cup of coffee out towards you. "Here, I picked up some coffee for you. I wasn't exactly sure what you'd want so I got you something based on what you were drinking at the Bulletin the other day."

Your eyebrows raised. To you your coffee always smelled like, well, coffee, but Chef Murdock was trained in the culinary arts -- he could probably tell what sweeteners and syrups were in a cup of coffee just from the scent alone.

You took a sip then nodded in approval. "This is great. Thank you."

"You're welcome." Chef Murdock took a sip of his own coffee. "So since any culinary dish starts with its ingredients, I thought we'd begin our cooking demo at the farmer's market this morning."

You nodded. "Okay, yeah, that sounds great. Do you mind if I record our conversation while we walk? Sometimes something will jump out in casual conversation that's good for my article."

Chef Murdock shook his head. "Not at all."

"Great, thanks." You took your phone out of your pocket and started recording, once again stating your name, the date, and the time. "Interview of Chef Matthew Murdock, part 2."

Chef Murdock gestured down the sidewalk. "Shall we, then?"

"Sure."

You headed down the sidewalk together, the gentle tapping of Chef Murdock's cane against the pavement creating a rhythm with your steps.

"So, um, how was dinner service last night?" you asked. 

"It was… okay," Chef Murdock replied. "Not quite what I'd hoped for in terms of customers, but we're still finding our footing."

You nodded. "Well, hopefully my profile of you for the Bulletin will help get the word out."

Chef Murdock nodded. "Fingers crossed. So what about you? How was your evening? Have any big Friday night plans?"

You shook your head with a light laugh. "Not unless you counted a date with my Netflix account."

Chef Murdock chuckled. "That actually sounds really nice."

"I would ask if you got to do anything after the restaurant closed, but I'm sure you probably just went home and rested."

Chef Murdock shook his head. "Actually, I have after-hours access to a gym near my apartment, so I frequently go there to work off my energy from service before heading home."

I wonder what kind of workouts he does to gain those biceps of his , you thought as you glanced over at his arms.

"Boxing." 

You looked up at Chef Murdock's face, which was sporting a small smirk. Shit, did I say that out loud? "Pardon?"

"I said I box," Chef Murdock repeated. "It helps me blow off steam after service and focus when I'm stuck on a recipe."

"Ah, okay. So did your dad teach you how to fight?"

Chef Murdock shook his head. "No, he didn't want me to be part of that world, said he wanted better for me than to come home with bruises and broken ribs every night like he did. He encouraged me to focus on my education, said he didn’t want to see me have to struggle in life like he did."

You looked up at him as the two of you paused at a crosswalk. "I think he would be proud of you, you know."

Chef Murdock sighed. "I would hope so. Not sure he'd be too proud of the way I treated you when we first met the other day though."

You shook your head. "It’s okay, really. We all have our off days. And speaking of off days, do you get any time off to relax and do anything fun?"

Chef Murdock nodded. "I take Sunday after brunch service to relax and unwind. Sometimes Mondays too, but most Mondays I'm at the restaurant testing and perfecting new recipes."

"Like your apology tiramisu?"

Chef Murdock chuckled. "Yeah, but I'm also working on a few other recipes as well right now, appetizers and main dishes and such." 

You continued on as the crosswalk sign switched from 'stop' to 'walk'. "How long have you been at the Bulletin ?" Chef Murdock asked. 

"Five years," you replied. "I was at the Bugle for a little while before that, but the editor was only interested in unsubstantiated gossip and wouldn't let me write the kind of pieces I wanted to write."

"Which are human-interest stories?"

You nodded. "Don't get me wrong, I like to dig into a good investigative assignment just as much as the next journalist, but my stories don't always have to be hard-hitting exposés -- I want our readers to connect to the people I write about."

Chef Murdock looked contemplative. "That's admirable. So what made you want to be a journalist?"

"I've always loved listening to people talk about their lives and hearing about their hopes and dreams. One day I decided I wanted to be able to share their stories with the world and since I always had a knack for writing, I decided to become a journalist."

"Where did you go to school?"

You huffed out a light laugh. "Hey, who's interviewing who here?"

Chef Murdock grinned, his cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink. "Sorry."

You shook your head. "It's fine, I'm totally kidding. I just didn't think you'd want to hear me ramble on about myself."

Chef Murdock shook his head. "No, it's fine, I uh… Actually I really like your voice." 

Your face heated. "Oh."

Chef Murdock shrugged, suddenly looking a bit shy. "I mean, I can't recognize people by their looks, obviously, so I pay a lot of attention to people's voices. Yours sounds nice."

Your heart fluttered again. Chill out, he's not flirting with you. "Thank you. I, um, I went to Columbia, by the way."

Chef Murdock nodded. "I considered going there -- thought about being a lawyer for a while, but I ultimately decided to go to culinary school instead."

You could picture Chef Murdock in a business suit, arguing a case in front of a captivated jury. He certainly could sway my opinion. "Oh, wow, that's… quite a different career path."

"Yeah, I thought that was what my dad would have wanted me to do but I eventually realized that what he really would have wanted was for me to be happy and do what I love."

"Which is cooking."

Chef Murdock smiled. "Yeah, cooking really is my passion. I love taking different ingredients and putting them together in order to create something for people to enjoy."

"That's really nice."

The two of you slowed down as you reached the lot where the farmer's market was held. "Here we are," Chef Murdock said.

You looked at the expanse of booths. "So, um, if you don't mind me asking… how do you know which vendors are where?"

Chef Murdock smiled and shook his head. "No, I don't mind at all. The vendors all have assigned spaces, so I've learned to map out who is located where. Plus Foggy comes with me most of the time to help out, or Karen will if Foggy's not available."

"Oh, okay."

The two of you began walking down the first row of vendors. "So, what are we looking for?"

Chef Murdock shook his head. "We're just going to browse and see what we can find."

He slowed as you reached a booth featuring baskets of farm-fresh eggs. "We'll definitely need some eggs though."

You nodded. "Okay."

The two of you stopped at the booth.

"Good morning, Chef," the vendor said. "How can I help you today?"

"Morning, Oscar," Chef Murdock replied. "We'd like a dozen eggs, please."

"Of course." The vendor waved a hand at the baskets of eggs. "Take your pick."

Chef Murdock reached out and felt the eggs in one of the baskets. "We'll take these."

The vendor nodded. "Alrighty then."

He took the eggs out of the basket and set them in a cardboard carton. "That'll be $5."

Chef Murdock took his wallet out of his pocket and opened it before taking out a $5 bill and handing it to the vendor.

The vendor took it then handed Chef Murdock the carton of eggs. "Here you go, Chef. See you next week."

Matt gave the vendor a slight nod. "Thanks, Oscar. See ya."

The two of you continued on, stopping occasionally to chat with different vendors and purchase various fruits and vegetables. You watched in fascination as Chef Murdock took his time choosing each one, squeezing and smelling each individual item before deciding whether or not it was worth purchasing.

Finally you asked, "how can you tell if something is ripe or not?"

"Each individual fruit and vegetable has a distinct firmness and smell to them," Chef Murdock replied as the two of you stopped at a booth that was selling mangos. "I've learned to determine at what point they're at their ripest."

He picked up a mango. "Like mangos, for instance."

He took your hand and placed the mango in it. "Feel how firm this one is?"

You nodded, trying to focus on the fruit in your hand and not how Chef Murdock's touch was making your heart start to race. "Uh huh."

"Now smell it."

You held the mango up to your nose. "I don't smell anything."

"That means it's not quite ripe yet." Chef Murdock took the mango and set another one in your hand. "On the other hand, this one is a bit overripe."

You squeezed the mango, this one much softer than the other. "Okay."

Chef Murdock held a third mango up to your nose. "Smell this one."

You inhaled, a slightly mango-y scent filling your nostrils. "It smells like mango."

Chef Murdock nodded. "Exactly."

He swapped the mango currently in your hand with the one in his. "Now feel it."

You squeezed. It had more give than the first one but less than the second. "Okay, yeah, I can tell the difference."

"This one is perfectly ripe." Chef Murdock took the mango back, his fingertips slowly grazing your palm as he did so.

You swallowed. You couldn't deny that Chef Murdock was extremely attractive, but you were there to do your job, not lust after the man. Keep it professional.

You waited as he selected a few more mangos and paid the vendor before moving on. 

You reached the last row of booths and stopped in front of one called Claire-romatherapy.

The vendor walked over to the two of you with a smile on her face. "Morning, Matt."

Chef Murdock grinned. "Morning, Claire."

He turned to introduce the two of you. "Claire helps run the community garden near my apartment," he explained. "I grow herbs there."

"Ah, okay," you replied. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too," Claire said. "So what brings you two by today?"

Matt adjusted the bag he was carrying on his shoulder. "Actually, I'm almost out of that lemon soap and I was wondering if you had any in stock."

Claire nodded. "Actually, yeah, let me grab some for you. How many did you need today?"

"I'll take two. Thanks."

"Sure thing."

You picked up a soy-based candle and gave it a sniff, the subtle scent of coconut and mahogany filling your nose. "Mmm. How much are your candles?"

Claire glanced over at you from where she was sorting through a bin of various soaps. "Six for the smaller ones, ten for the large."

You nodded and went to dig your wallet out of your purse. 

Chef Murdock placed a hand on your arm. "I've got it."

You shook your head. "Oh, no, I couldn't possibly --"

"No, I insist." Chef Murdock smiled at you. "Considering I'm the one who dragged you out here at 8 AM on a Saturday it's the least I can do."

You bit your lip, then sighed as you put your wallet away. "Okay then. Thank you."

"Alright," Claire said, returning with Chef Murdock's soap. "Total comes to sixteen dollars."

Chef Murdock handed her some cash. "I'll see you next week, Claire."

"Okay. Take care, Matt." Claire turned towards you. "And it was very nice to meet you." 

"You too," you replied.

"Alright, I think that's everything," Chef Murdock said as the two of you walked back towards the entrance. "Let's get back to the restaurant."

You nodded as you headed down the sidewalk together, excited to find out what sort of culinary creation Chef Murdock had in mind.

"Okay," Matt said half an hour later as he set a plate of crepes topped with fresh fruit, honey, and whipped cream in front of where you sat at the prep counter in the kitchen at Daredevil.

After finishing up at the farmer's market the two of you had gone back to the restaurant, where you had watched Matt prepare breakfast.

Matt had admittedly shown off his skills a bit, making perfectly cooked crepes and slicing the fruit with culinary precision before making freshly whipped cream.

"Oh my gosh, this looks amazing," you said.

Matt smiled as he set his own plate down across from you. "Hopefully it tastes as good as it looks then."

He waited as you cut a piece and took a bite. He knew every ingredient was exactly as it should be but was still nervous about your reaction.

You let out a moan. "Ohmigod ."

Matt sucked in a breath, his mind wandering to other sorts of situations in which he could get you to make those pleased sounds for him. He knew you were attracted to him -- all of the physiological signs he had picked up on had pointed to such -- and the more he had gotten to know you over the past several days, the more attracted he found himself becoming towards you in return. 

He cleared his throat, fighting to keep his thoughts professional.  "Good?"

You made a sound of affirmation as you took another bite. "Please tell me that your crepes are on the Sunday brunch menu."

Matt chuckled as he took a bite of his own crepes. "As a matter of fact, they are."

You took a sip of the freshly-squeezed orange juice Matt had also prepared. "Mmm, good, because now I know what I'm doing tomorrow morning."

Come home with me tonight and I'll make you all the crepes you want. 

Matt could imagine himself in his apartment's kitchen, making breakfast as you sat at his kitchen island wearing nothing but one of his shirts after a night of passionate lovemaking.

He mentally shook his head. He would definitely need to blow off some steam at the gym after service tonight. "I'm glad you like them."

You made another pleased sound. "These are amazing, honestly."

The two of you continued eating in comfortable silence. Once you were finished, you set your fork onto your plate. "That was so good."

Matt smiled. "Thanks."

He picked up your plates and brought them to the sink to wash them later, then turned towards the receiving door as the bell rang. "Oh, excuse me one second."

He walked over and answered it, the smell of motor oil and fresh blood filling his nostrils. "Hey, Frank."

"Hiya, Red," Frank replied. "I've got your delivery for today."

Matt nodded. "Come on in."

Frank wheeled the cooler with the fresh meat Matt had ordered into the kitchen, pausing when he saw you. "I didn't realize you had company. I could've come later."

Matt shook his head before introducing you. "She's doing a profile on me for the Bulletin. "

He gestured back to Frank. "This is Frank Castle. He's our meat supplier for the restaurant."

"Nice to meet you," you said.

"Likewise, ma'am," Frank replied.

Matt took the clipboard Frank handed him, feeling for the sticky flag he needed to sign by. "Give me just a second to take care of this."

"Actually, I should get going," you said. "I'm sure you have to start prepping for service soon and I don't want to be in the way."

As much as Matt didn't want you to have to go, you were right. He nodded. "Give me just a second and I'll walk you out."

"Okay."

He finished signing off on the meat order and handed the clipboard back to Frank. "Thanks, Frank."

Frank shook his hand. "No problem, Red, see ya Tuesday. Ma'am."

"Nice to meet you," you said.

Matt waited until the rumble of Frank's truck faded off into the distance before turning back to you. "By the way, if you're ever looking for someone interesting to profile, Frank's your guy."

"Oh?" you replied curiously as he escorted you towards the front door.

Matt nodded. "He's a former military veteran who was shot in the head while overseas then lost his wife and kids in a shootout between two rival gangs."

You sucked in a breath. "Oh my gosh, that's awful."

"He became a rancher in order to help with the PTSD and is now one of the biggest beef suppliers in New York."

"I'll definitely keep him in mind then. Thanks."

You both paused as you reached the door. 

"I… I had a really nice time today, Chef Murdock," you finally said. "Thanks for everything."

"No problem." Matt rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Um, you know… you can call me Matt if you'd like."

"Okay," you said, a smile in your voice. "Thanks… Matt."

Matt smiled at the way his first name rolled off your tongue. "You're welcome."

"I'll see you tomorrow?"

Matt nodded. "Have Karen let me know that you're here and I'll come say hi."

"I will."

Matt unlocked the door. "See you tomorrow."

He sighed as he let you out then locked the door behind you. It was getting more and more difficult to fight the mutual attraction between you… and honestly, he wasn't sure if he even wanted to keep fighting it.

Really really looking forward to when the next Dune is released. She is going to be outstanding.

ZENDAYA — via Instagram (September 10, 2023)

I was giggling at Peter’s reaction to B.B. like the character ‘Mater teasing Lightning McQueen in the film, Cars: “Peter and B.B. sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-something, something…” and then when she adroitly (innocently?) slips him her number, Peter’s mental “Kachooga, kachooga.” Apologies if you haven’t ever seen that film, but it is adorable, just like this intro was. You have a knack for getting in Peter’s head and I enjoy that. It’s nice to know what he’s thinking. Wonder what Betty is going to think when she sees the two of them together? Will she spot that Peter’s interest extends beyond sugar and spice? Hmmm.

Of Coffee and Cinnamon Rolls - Chapter 1

Pairing: TASM! Peter Parker x F!Reader

Rating: T

Story Summary: Peter's coffee maker has broken, leaving him in need of a caffeine fix. Luckily, there's a new coffee shop right by the Daily Bugle... With a beautiful barista inside.

Warnings/Tags: Meet-Cute, Coffee Shops, Strangers to Friends to Lovers

Word Count: ~1650

A/N: Continuing my reignited thirst for Andrew Garfield's Peter Parker with this super sweet, super fluffy goodness! Enjoy this first chapter and I'll be back with more soon!

That being said, if you want to be added to the tag list for this or any of my other stories/characters I write for, please let me know!

Ugh, what a morning, Peter Parker thought as he hurried down the sidewalk towards the Daily Bugle's building. His ancient second (or more than likely actually third) -hand coffee maker that he had purchased at Goodwill when he had first moved into his apartment had finally given up the ghost that morning and he hadn't had time to try to fix it before needing to leave for work. Mr. Jameson had eventually relented and hired him on as a staff photographer rather than a freelancer after the former staff photographer, Eddie Brock, had quit to go work for the Post, which meant that Peter was expected to attend the 7am staff meetings.

He slowed as he spotted a sidewalk sign up ahead welcoming people inside a brand-new coffee shop. 

Deciding that getting his caffeine fix was more important than potentially being late, Peter adjusted his backpack on his shoulder and headed inside, taking a quick glance around the empty shop.

The woman behind the counter smiled as he approached. "Hi, welcome to Bean There, Done That, what can I getcha?"

Wow, she's beautiful, Peter thought . "Hi, could I get a large black coffee?"

The beautiful barista nodded. "Room for cream or sugar?"

"No, thank you."

"Can I interest you in a cinnamon roll?"

Peter's stomach growled as he eyed the display case of what appeared to be freshly-baked cinnamon rolls. In his haste to clean up the mess his now-broken coffee maker had made he hadn't had time for breakfast. "Uh, yeah, actually, a cinnamon roll sounds great."

"Awesome." The barista tapped at the iPad that was serving as the register. "For here or to go?"

"To go." As much as Peter would've liked to stay and enjoy his breakfast he was already cutting it close.

"Okay, that'll be $6.43. Can I get your name?"

Peter must've looked confused because she pointed to the stack of paper coffee cups and added, "for your coffee order."

"Oh! Peter... My name is Peter."

"Peter," the beautiful barista (or B.B. as Peter was now calling her in his head) repeated, tapping at the iPad again. "Your coffee will be ready at the end of the counter."

Peter paid for his breakfast and moved to the other end of the counter, watching as B.B. set his coffee to brew then moved to the display case. She appeared to be roughly his age, with Y/H/C hair and Y/E/C eyes. She wore black pants, a white shirt, and a flour-dusted apron which bore the logo of the shop and showed off her figure.

"Here you go," she said, walking back towards Peter and handing him a small bakery box. "Cinnamon roll for Peter."

"Thank you."

She put a lid on Peter's coffee and slid it over to him. "And here's your coffee."

Peter picked up his coffee and bakery box as the bell above the door chimed, signaling another customer. "Thanks again."

"No problem. Thanks for stopping by, come back again soon."

"Will do."

Peter ran the rest of the way to the Daily Bugle. Luckily Jameson was running late so Peter managed to slip into the conference room with a couple of minutes to spare.

He opened the bakery box and took a bite of the still-warm cinnamon roll. Wow, this is delicious.

He finished it right before Jameson walked into the conference room.

"Alright, let's get this show on the road," Jameson barked.  "We need a puff piece to round out Sunday's edition. Whaddya got for me?"

"The library is having a book sale--" one of the junior reporters began.

"Boring, nobody goes to the library. What else?"

"There's a pet adoption event in Central Park--" another one tried.

"We covered the last one. Gimmie something different."

Peter cleared his throat. "There's a new coffee shop down the street that's having a grand opening tomorrow… Bean There, Done That?"

"New coffee shop, huh? Is it any good?"

Peter nodded. "Yes, sir. I just had a cinnamon roll from there. It was great."

Jameson thought for a moment. "Might get some free baked goods for promoting it. Ok, fine. Brant!"

"Yes, sir," Betty Brant, one of the senior reporters, replied.

"Set up an interview with the owner. Parker, you go too since we need photos of the opening."

Peter grinned. "Yes, sir." Hopefully B.B. will be there.

"Alright, now get out of here. I've got golf with the mayor in an hour and I need to practice my back swing."

Peter headed to his desk to work on editing photos for the online edition of the paper, briefly stopping to eat lunch in the staff break room before getting back to it. As he was packing up to leave for the day Betty stopped by his desk. "Hey, so I stopped by that coffee shop during my lunch break and talked to the owner, and she agreed to an interview but asked if it could be before the shop opens, so I'll see you tomorrow morning around 7:30?" 

Peter nodded. "Sounds good."

"Oh and you were right, the cinnamon rolls are excellent. I can't wait to try some other stuff from there."

"Me either. See you tomorrow, Betty."

He grabbed his backpack and headed down to the lobby.

"Bye, Stan!" he called to the elderly security guard as he exited the building.

As he approached Bean There, Done That he noticed that the chalkboard sign was still outside. Maybe I should stop in and get another coffee and cinnamon roll since it's gonna be a long night. And if B.B. happens to still be there, well, that's just a bonus, isn't it?

B.B. looked up from the tray of cinnamon rolls that she was boxing up as he entered. She smiled. "Hi, back again? It's Peter, right?"

Peter nodded. "Right."

"What can I do for you?"

"Um, actually I was wondering if I could get another coffee and a cinnamon roll."

B.B. nodded. "You're in luck. I'm getting ready to close up so I was boxing up the few I have left."

She moved over to the coffee machine. "Large black coffee, right?"

Peter nodded, impressed that she had remembered his order from that morning. "Right."

"Ok, I'll have that for you in a sec."

Peter waited at the register while B.B. brewed his coffee. "So, uh, first day open?" he asked.

B.B. glanced over at him. "Yeah, sorta. Technically tomorrow's our official opening but I decided to go ahead and open for a couple of hours today."

She popped the lid on and set it in front of him, then grabbed the box of cinnamon rolls, waving off Peter's payment. "Here you go. On the house."

Peter blinked in surprise. "Oh, wow, thanks. Are you sure though? I wouldn't want you to get into trouble with the owner."

B.B. grinned. "Considering I am the owner, I don't think I'll get into trouble for giving away free stuff. Besides, you're my first repeat customer, so that should at least entitle you to a free coffee and bakery item, right?"

"You're the owner," Peter repeated, suddenly feeling dumb considering how obvious it was. 

B.B. nodded. "Yep. I couldn't sleep last night, and when I can't sleep, I bake, hence the cinnamon rolls, so I figured it was better to open for a few hours a day early and sell them rather than have to throw them out because I can't eat them all." 

She stuck out her hand. "I'm Y/F/N. Y/F/N Y/L/N."

Peter took it, giving it a brief shake. "Peter Parker."

"Very nice to meet you, Peter Parker."

"Nice to meet you as well, Y/N." Peter enjoyed the way her name felt on his tongue.

"Thanks for stopping by again. Hope to see you again soon."

Peter grinned. "Actually, you'll be seeing me tomorrow morning. I'm the staff photographer for the Daily Bugle so I'll be taking photos for the paper during your interview."

A look of realization flitted across Y/N's face. "Ohhh, that makes sense now. That reporter from the Bugle did say that one of her colleagues had stopped by this morning and recommended that she try the cinnamon rolls."

Peter chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Yeah, that was me."

"Well thank you for recommending them to your colleagues. I really appreciate it."

"It was no problem, really. The cinnamon roll was excellent." Peter gestured to the bakery box. "Well, I mean obviously, since I'm back for another one." Not because you're beautiful and I just wanted to see you again, he thought. Well… not only that.

He took a sip of his coffee. "So I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

Y/N smiled. "Yeah, I guess you will."

Peter picked up the bakery box. "Thanks again for the coffee and cinnamon rolls. I really appreciate it."

"It's no problem."

Peter turned to leave.

"Oh, hey, wait!" Y/N added.

Peter turned back towards her.

Y/N bit her lip, then picked up a business card from the holder in front of the register and wrote something on the back before handing it to Peter. 

Peter studied the card.

Bean There, Done That

714 2nd Ave.

New York, NY 10016

(646)-555-2390

www.btdt.com

He turned it over and saw an additional phone number written on the back. 

"If no one's up front when you get here tomorrow morning you can text me and I'll come let you in," Y/N explained.

Peter put the card in his wallet for safekeeping, making a mental note to add Y/N's contact info to his phone as soon as he left the shop. "That sounds great."

"See you tomorrow, Peter."

"See ya, Y/N."

Peter left the shop with a grin. Maybe my coffee maker breaking wasn't such a bad thing after all. 

My father is the governor of Floridahoma. His succession to leader of this once bucolic hellhole can be traced back to my great-great--great grandfather who brick by brick built the political machinery that installed his male descendants into this position with treacheries too numerous to be detailed in this short reblog.

Suffice it to say, one can go quite far in life when you and your progeny are possessed with wavy brown hair, white teeth, soulful brown eyes , no ethics, and a tongue so silver it could charm the rattle off of a snake. P.T. Barnum might've said "there's a sucker born every minute", but my great-great-great grandfather said, "every minute there's a sap waiting to be sucked and I'll find the prostitute willing to do it and keep quiet about it in order to get the blackmail what I want." So generations later here we are, a family of blackhearts, and the last honest media outlet in the entire state went bankrupt yesterday. My father and brothers have no idea what I'm about to do....

we should set more tv shows in fake US states the way we make up fake european countries for disney channel originals and hallmark movies

I encourage you to keep writing those ideas down because they are great ones! I could easily picture the scene with Peter you described because you explained it so clearly!

I have this story in my head about frat peter who has a best friend since 6th grade she's seen him through every thing his nerdy phase his if I talk to girls I'll faint phase and now his im going to fuck every girl in my vicinity because I can phase and since joining the frat peter has become douchey and more of an asshole she's tried to accommodate his new found personality and try to move forward with their friendship and since he's her only friend in college (they applied to colleges together specifically so they could be there for each other) she hangs around the frat house all the time and while some of Peter's brothers don't mind her and actually like hanging around her some are mad because peter won't let anyone sleep with her but he also won't date her so she's technically not off limits and one day she hears an annoyed frat bro say that he doesn't understand why peter keeps her around cause he won't date her but their friendship is not strong enough anymore to justify her hanging around all the time.This makes her finally realise how peter has been treating her so poorly and not valuing their friendship and then.....starts dating around and making new friends

What do you think happens next ?

Hey anon! Thank you for asking, dear!

I think from there, there has to be a lot of anguish. She will come to his senses, suffer for it, but will seek a life without frat!Peter, have other friendships, kiss other lips... even though frat!Peter is deep in your heart. When one day, frat!Peter notices that she is no longer at her full disposal, that she has a life without him, and that others enjoy her company (and her lips too), frat!Peter will finally come to his senses, seeing the great sucker he was being, how important she is in his life, that the possibility of losing her is real, and how much it hurts in his heart to see her slip through his fingers. There will be a lot of deadlock and suffering (his), because she it will not make things easier, since she no longer believes in him. He’ll have to fight for her, show him that the feeling is mutual, that it’s real.

Any beautiful and talented Tumblr writer reading this, please help us!