#Fast Mop Plate Up

[romerona]

The Cook and The Teacher!

Let's pretend The Bear and Abbot Elementary are in the same city.

The meeting of Carmen (Carmy) Berzatto x Abbot Teacher Femreader! Sunshinereader!

Headcanons.

The day had been long, and Carmy was just trying to keep it together. He’d left The Bear earlier than usual—if you could call "earlier" 9 p.m.—and was heading upstairs to his apartment with a bag of takeout that was far less exciting than anything he cooked in the kitchen. His mind was still buzzing with half-finished ideas for new recipes and the stress of balancing the books. It wasn’t until he rounded the corner in the hallway that he saw you.

You were crouched on the floor outside the apartment next to his, wrestling with a particularly heavy box. A burst of bright, patterned fabric caught his eye—it was your socks. Your jeans were rolled up messily, revealing mismatched socks peeking out of your sneakers, and a stubborn strand of hair that kept falling to your face. You didn’t seem to notice him at first, too focused on trying to angle the box through the doorway.

“Uh, you need a hand?” Carmy asked, his voice quiet and even, as if he wasn’t entirely sure you’d hear him.

You startled slightly, looking up at him with wide eyes. A man—tall, with a mop of messy blond hair, tired blue eyes, and a hoodie that had definitely seen better days—stood a few steps away. He looked a little rough around the edges, like he’d just stepped out of a 12-hour shift. And, unbeknownst to you, he had.

For a moment, you seemed unsure whether to accept, but then you huffed, brushing your hair out of your face. “Honestly? Yes. Please. I think this box is plotting my downfall.”

Carmy set his takeout on the floor and stepped over. He crouched down beside you, studying the situation. “What’s in here? Bricks?”

You laughed, the sound warm and full, and it caught him off guard. “Close enough—books. I hoard them like a dragon.”

He smirked faintly, the corners of his mouth tugging upward. Without another word, he lifted the box with relative ease, surprising you with how quickly he maneuvered it through your doorway. “Where do you want it?”

“Anywhere that’s not the hallway,” you said with a grin, stepping aside to let him pass. “But if you want to put it by the window, I won’t stop you.”

Carmy carried the box to the corner you pointed to, but as he turned back, his eyes lingered on you longer than he intended. Standing amidst the chaos of your half-unpacked apartment, you looked effortlessly natural—strands of hair falling loose, a faint smile on your lips, and a light, easy confidence that made the mess around you seem insignificant. The light caught your cheekbone, highlighting your warm, colorful presence, a stark contrast to the muted tones he was used to. The room was already full of little glimpses of your personality—colorful throw pillows piled on a couch, a small vase of fresh flowers on the windowsill, and a stack of what looked like hand-painted signs propped against the wall.

“Thanks for that,” you said, breaking his train of thought. “I owe you one.”

Carmy couldn’t help but think how effortlessly pretty you were, though he kept the thought to himself, letting it settle quietly in the back of his mind.

He shrugged, brushing his hands off on his jeans. “It’s no big deal.”

“No big deal?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “You just saved me from throwing my back out. That’s definitely worth at least a plate of cookies or something.”

Carmy opened his mouth to respond, but you kept going, your energy bright and fast-paced. “Wait—are you my neighbor? Please tell me you’re not just some random guy who walked by and felt bad for me.”

“Uh, yeah,” Carmy said, scratching the back of his neck. “I live next door.”

Your face lit up. “Oh, good. I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you...?”

“Carmen,” he said. “Carmy.”

“Carmy,” you repeated, testing it out. “Alright, Carmy-next-door. Thanks for the rescue.”

He nodded awkwardly, his social skills feeling a little rusty. “Yeah. No problem.”

-----

Carmy was just about to head out for his usual coffee run before work when the knock came at his door. He hesitated for a moment, not used to anyone knocking on his door—especially not at this hour. He opened it cautiously, and there you were, standing on the other side, holding a plate covered in plastic wrap.

“Hey!” you said brightly, flashing him the kind of smile that felt a little too sunny for such an early hour. You hold the plate out toward him. "These are for you. My way of saying thanks for saving me from a very undignified fate yesterday.”

“You weren’t kidding,” he said, glancing down at the plate.

“Never joke about cookies,” you said solemnly, holding them out to him.

Carmy hesitated for a moment before taking the plate, his fingers brushing yours briefly.

“Uh thanks,” he said simply, his tone soft but sincere.

You tilted your head, your smile softening into something a little teasing. “That’s it? ‘Uh, thanks’? No ‘wow, these look amazing,’ or ‘you didn’t have to, Y/N, you’re too kind’?”

A chuckle escaped him before he could stop it, the corners of his mouth lifting into a small, genuine smile. “Alright, fine. Wow, these look amazing. And you didn’t have to.”

“Much better,” you said, nodding approvingly. “I knew you had it in you, Carmy-next-door.”

“Carmy-next-door?” he repeated, quirking an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” you said with a shrug, leaning casually against the doorframe. “You didn’t tell me your last name, so I had to come up with something. If you’d prefer something fancier, we could workshop it.”

He shook his head, amused. “Carmy-next-door’s fine.”

There was a brief pause, and Carmy shifted slightly, unsure of what to do next. Social interactions outside of a kitchen weren’t exactly his strong suit, but something about the way you stood there, so at ease, made him want to keep talking. “Peanut butter?”

“Yep. I hope you’re not allergic or I might feel terrible for accidentally murdering my new neighbor.”

“No allergies,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “They look... good.”

“They taste better,” you replied confidently, rocking back on your heels. “You’ll see.”

Carmy stared at the plate in his hands for a moment, then back at you. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of you yet—this whirlwind of color and brightness that seemed to completely contrast his muted world.

“You uh-bake a lot?” he asked, his voice quieter now, curious despite himself.

You laughed, and the sound made something in his chest loosen. “Not really. I’m more of a ‘wing it and hope for the best’ kind of baker. Which, coincidentally, is also my teaching style.”

That caught his attention. “Teaching?”

“Yep. Fourth grade at Abbott Elementary,” you said, a note of pride in your voice. “You ever try to teach ten-year-olds about fractions? It’s like trying to train cute little squirrels to sit still.”

Carmy huffed another laugh, shaking his head slightly. “Can’t say I have.”

“You’re lucky,” you teased, crossing your arms over your chest. “Anyway, I should let you get back to... whatever it is you were doing. But enjoy the cookies. They’re my signature recipe.”

“Signature?” Carmy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yep,” you said with a playful smirk. “Passed down from the great culinary masterminds of my family. By which I mean, I Googled it five years ago and have been winging it ever since."

Carmy let out a quiet laugh, glancing back toward his apartment. For a moment, he considered inviting you in, but the idea of it felt… too sudden. Too much. Instead, he took a step back toward the door, holding up the plate as a gesture of gratitude. “I’ll let you know how they are.”

“Oh, it will,” you said confidently, already backing toward your apartment. “See you around, Carmy-next-door.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly, watching as you disappeared back into your apartment, leaving him standing in the doorway with a plate of cookies in his hands and a strange sense of warmth in his chest.

-------

The plate of cookies sat on Carmy’s desk in the cluttered back office at The Bear, their presence almost mocking him. He’d brought them along in the rush of the morning, figuring he might as well snack on them during the chaos of his day. But, as usual, the day had taken over—prep work, managing the team, putting out fires both literal and figurative—and by the time he finally sat down, the cookies were still untouched.

Richie, after coming into his office asking about the butter delivery for tomorrow, noticed the cookies on the table.

“What the hell is this?” he asked, pointing to the plate with an incredulous look. “Since when do you bake cookies?”

Carmy looked up from his paperwork, deadpan.“They’re from my neighbor. She brought them over as a thank-you for helping her move a box.”

Richie snorted, picking one up without waiting for permission. “Your neighbor? What is this, a fucking Hallmark movie?”

“Can you just eat the cookie and shut up?” Carmy said, though his tone was more resigned than annoyed, as he leaned back into his chair.

Richie took a dramatic bite, his eyebrows raising in exaggerated surprise. “Damn. These are actually good. Who’s this neighbor of yours? She running a bakery or something?”

“No,” Carmy said, shaking his head. “She’s a teacher.”

Richie blinked, clearly not expecting that answer. “A teacher who bakes like this? That's a keeper. Because these cookies are better than anything Marcus has cranked out lately.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Carmy muttered, grabbing a cookie for himself.

They were soft, perfectly sweetened, with just the right amount of salt to balance the flavor. He wasn’t expecting much when you’d handed him the plate earlier, but now... now he understood why you’d been so confident.

He finished the cookie quickly, his mind already drifting to thoughts of you. He could picture the way you’d smiled when you handed him the plate, the playful glint in your eyes when you teased him. He wasn’t used to people being so... warm. So open. It felt unfamiliar, but not in a bad way.

Richie leaned against the desk, crossing his arms. “Seriously, though, what’s the deal? She single? Maybe I should swing by, introduce myself. Could use some homemade cookies in my life.”

Carmy shot him a warning look, though his tone remained light. "Just get out of here, Richie,"

Richie chuckled, grabbing another cookie as he walked out. “Hey, if she makes more of these, tell her I’ll marry her. Hell, I’ll even carry her boxes next time.”

Carmy shook his head, staring at the now half-empty plate of cookies. For a moment, he considered texting you to tell you how good they were, but he didn’t have your number. Instead, he made a mental note to return the favor—something different than cookies.

He wasn’t entirely sure why he cared so much, but as he reached for one last cookie, he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips.

-----

It had been two days since you’d dropped off the plate of cookies as a thank-you for Carmy helping you with your move. You didn’t expect much in return—maybe just a polite nod in the hallway or, at most, an offhanded “thanks.” That was the kind of vibe you got from Carmy: quiet, reserved, polite but not overly forthcoming or social.

So, when there was a knock at your door that evening, you weren’t expecting to find him standing there, holding a small brown takeout box.

“Carmy-next-door,” you said, your voice warm and teasing. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Hey,” he said, his voice low, as his eyes flicked between her face and the container in his hands. “Uh, thought I’d return the favor."

Your eyes flicked to the container, and you tilted your head curiously. “Return the favor?”

"For the cookies.”

You blinked, glancing down at the box in his hands. It wasn’t your typical store-bought takeout container—this one looked nicer, almost custom-made. You tilted your head slightly, curious. “What’s this?”

“Just something I made,” he said, shrugging one shoulder like it was no big deal. “Nothing fancy.”

You smiled, reaching out to take the box from him. “Wait, so you’re telling me you cook? Like, professionally?”

Carmy hesitated for a moment, clearly debating how much to say. “Yeah. I’m a chef.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Like... a real chef? Not just someone who’s really good at making grilled cheese?”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah. A real chef. But I do make a mean grilled cheese.”

“Well, color me impressed,” you laugh, holding up the box like it was a prized treasure. “What’s in here? Or is it a secret?”

“Braised short ribs,” he said, shifting his weight slightly. “With some potato puree and roasted vegetables. It’s... leftovers from a test recipe.”

You blinked, momentarily stunned. “You're giving me that as a thank-you for cookies?”

He shrugged again, his gaze flicking away. “Figured it was better than just saying ‘thanks.’"

You laughed softly, leaning against the doorframe. “Well, now I feel like I need to bake you an entire cake or something. Cookies don’t seem like enough anymore.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, his voice softening slightly. “You didn’t have to bring me anything in the first place.”

“Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have discovered that my new neighbor is secretly a culinary genius,” you teased, watching as his cheeks seemed to tint just slightly pink.

“Not a genius,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just... a chef.”

“Well, Chef Carmy, you’ve officially raised the bar for neighborly exchanges,” you said, grinning.

A small, almost shy smile tugged at his lips. “Just enjoy it.”

She studied him for a beat longer, the way he seemed both completely comfortable and slightly out of place at the same time. “Well, thanks, Carmy. I’ll let you know what I think.”

“Yeah,” he said, nodding slightly. “You do that.”

Carmy turned to leave, but before he reached his apartment, you called after him, your voice light and teasing.

"Hey, Carmy-next-door!"

He paused, glancing back over his shoulder, a curious expression on his face.

"Is this some kind of competition now? Because if it is, my next thank-you might have to involve actual fireworks."

He gave a quiet chuckle, a rare sound that widened your smile. "It's not."

You laughed, the sound brightening the hallway. "Well, it is now," you declared, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "And I’m not going down without a fight."

"Looking forward to it," he murmured, shaking his head, his smile lingering as he turned and disappeared into his apartment

You stood in the doorway for a moment, still holding the box, a warm feeling spreading through you. There was something about him—quiet but deeply thoughtful—that made you feel like you’d just scratched the surface of who he really was.

You carried the box into your kitchen, setting it carefully on the counter. The smell alone was enough to make your mouth water, but you didn’t open it right away. Instead, you poured yourself a glass of wine and took a seat, savoring the anticipation. And as you finally took your first bite, you couldn’t help but think: maybe moving into this building was the best decision you’d made in a long time.

Hope you enjoy it!!!! <3

Part 3??

[xdanisgfx]

ʚɞ IRL — prologue !

9:39 PM.

free.

she was finally free.

daniela averted her gaze from the brown-rimmed clock behind the counter, a sigh of relief releasing from her lips as customers dwindled down to a handful. she followed the last few customers out as they left, immediately flipping the open sign to close.

"i'll go ahead, if you don't mind?" her coworker leah winked, already halfway out the glass doors. the half-blonde barely got the time to argue before the girl disappeared, eliciting a groan from her.

okay, then. she wasn't that free, but almost. she got on with her last bits of labor: checking storage, washing the last of the plates and mugs, wiping down the tables and mopping the floors. stupid leah — this was, what, the third night in a row that she had left her to clean up by herself in favor of a date? she really should bring this up to the manager, even knowing that the other girl would definitely find out and resent her for it.

well, too bad, daniela thought. if you didn't want to get into trouble then you should've worked your ass of for all of your paid hours.

the latina pulled out her hair from its tie, properly closed up the cafe, and finally walked out into the night.

10:57 PM.

the air was crisp, causing daniela to shiver a little in her two layers. it was definitely nearing winter — the trees barely had leaves to sway, all fallen to the ground. the air was no longer its cozy coolness but starting to achingly nip skin.

daniela, now with an armful of drinks, walked alone, shadows coming and passing with the streetlights on her face.

the blonde smiled at her phone, laughing under her breath as the group chat started to fill with messages — mostly because of the random cat video megan had sent.

she stopped at an intersection, right in front of a pedestrian lane. she glanced up, just for a moment, to see that the stoplight for pedestrians had turned green. nobody was around, which was quite strange. it was barely two hours to midnight, surely somebody had thought of taking a night walk? the blonde's gaze returned to the little device on her phone as she started to walk, rolling one shoulder because of the weight from the drinks. lara had sent another video, one of a cat climbing a bookshelf and then falling.

11:00 PM.

the clock ticked on the top left of daniela's phone, each number flipping to form a perfect hour. daniela reached the middle of the road, her attention still focused on her little device. from the corner of her eye she saw a truck approaching, but she paid it no mind. surely vehicles came and went here, that was not out of the ordinary.

it became out of the ordinary when the truck did not stop, nor honk, nor give any warning to daniela.

everything was suddenly sped up. daniela froze, eyes blinded by the vehicle's headlights, unwilling to move or perhaps unable to. she froze like a deer caught in headlights, like a turtle sensing danger. she couldn't do anything. not to scream, not to put out a hand, not to run and avoid injury.

daniela stared, and her eyes closed, bracing for impact and the relief that may immediately or never come. everything was too fast but in a painful slow motion, and bile crept up her throat from the state of immense stress and panic she was put into out of nowhere.

1, 2, fuck-

something hit her, hard. but instead of going down to hit the ground she's yanked upwards, and she could barely open her eyes for a peek due to the icy wind rushing into her eyeballs and the sick feeling in her tightening stomach.

the latina didn't even get the chance to scream in horror before her feet land on a flat, solid surface again. she breathed heavily, in through the nose, out through the mouth, nonstop.

daniela glanced up for a second to discover the identity of her savior, but she only got a split-second look at baggy cargos and an oversized shirt flying away into the night on a silver silk string. there was no face, just a black-webbed red mask.

her jaw dropped in realization, and her gaze did too, only to find her ordered drinks flooding the street, flattened by the truck that would've killed her.

they shared not a word nor a glance, but daniela was already entranced by her masked savior.

masterlist ʚɞ next

taglist! — @meganskiendielsbtc @sunshinez4 @fruityg0rl @wtfisthisnoclueman @winnmin @1luvkarina @peanutbutterlover05 @hiraizyo @kristalag

author's notes! — pls bear with me while i study human humor

[jellymind]

Sound of Music Tarn x Reader

Who knew one somewhat underhanded comment towards your manager would get you killed?

You sure didn’t when you made the comment! Now stalking down the low lit hallways in a purple, khaki t-shirt. A staple of the work uniform in this marine center, specifically those working with the dangerous fish hosted here for recovery. 

Yeah, death was knocking on the door and you weren’t ready to go. 

Huffing, you reach up to fiddle with the headphones around your neck, the pressure from it the only thing grounding you in this place at the moment. And the urge to put them on becomes stronger yet as you pass a group of co-workers all dressed in red t-shirts instead. They cast you a glance, eyes widening before darting their gazes away again. No words spoken, but the air suddenly feels heavy with pity. 

Further in you go, practically sprinting to get out of sight. Taking corners faster than necessary, until finally you reach the split path that leads to the mers held deeper in this place. Yeah, normal fish weren’t the only ones being kept, but straight up creatures of myths. And half of them would take off a hand just for sport. 

Each side looks the same in appearance, but the tiles are where they differ. One, the right path, goes from the deep blue of the normal marine center’s path to a soothing red. The sign of the kinder mers, the ones that can actually be interacted without fear of sudden ill intent. The other path, the one you have now been reassigned to, goes to a foreboding purple, darkening the hallway beyond. 

You take the purple path, sucking in a breath as the space constricts around you. This space was not built for comfort, instead to warn or scare away any that weren’t forced to work down this wing. 

Doors start to line the walls, each with name plates and the mers nicknames on display in neat golden script. Megatron, Soundwave, Shockwave, Starscream, you continue past each door without pause. None of them the ones you were assigned too. 

It takes a while, having to go down another length of a hall that spindles off the main shoot of purple-code mers. These doors are also marked with red, the color vibrant and closer to that of blood than the red from before. The engravings have scratched off paint where nails have dug in, both human and non-human intermingling. 

The names pass by, Overlord, Galvatron, and even more that you begin to ignore. Thoughts flying to when co-workers would whisper about the newest injury from these fearsome beasts. 

“They’re killers! I swear it!” 

“Did you know they leave the dead in there with them? Management thinks it keeps them sated for when the professionals enter.” 

“I heard the last person assigned there lost an arm.” 

You shake your head as you stop before a door. This one no different from the others but important to you. The new mer assigned to you just beyond. Tarn, the nameplate reads. And he has the worst track record among the ones stationed here. 

Blood thirsty, constantly breaking out of the room and tank, always looking for the latest victim. And now your job to clean his tank, feed him, and make sure he’s properly enriched. 

“Let’s get this over with.” You mutter under your breath. Bringing up your headphones, you click open your phone and begin to play the instrumental melody that will lead to your death. 

Violins sing away as you swing the door open, a trumpet almost making you jump as you sweep a glance over the still water inside. The tank is oddly empty of an eager predator ready to kill, not even a ripple. 

Maybe the mer doesn’t know you’re here. All the better to work fast and get out even faster.

Biting at your lip, you step in, looking along the wall for any of the cleaning supplies that your manager swore would be there, ready for use. A mop, a bucket, and an unlabeled bottle of cleaner is all you catch sight of, and it’s thrown to the ground in a rush.

You sigh, but head deeper in, the rise of tubas following you as the heavily padded door slams shut. Grabbing the mop after filling the bucket to the point suds are sloshing out the side, you get to work. 

There’s a surprising lack of stains around the tank, nothing that outwardly hints at what has gone down in this room in the past. Only dried stains that are more brown than red and could have been anything at the point of spill. 

You turn the music up, blasting the return of the violins into your ears. It’s at the same time you see movement at the corner of your eye. 

Turning fast, you face the tank where you thought the movement came from, nothing. Sweat starts to pucker your forehead, and the hairs on the back of your neck start to stand up. A warning, or maybe a feeling, of being watched invade. 

You turn away, dunking the mop in the bucket. 

A splash cuts through the music. 

You whirl around and freeze. 

This time, a fin has broken through the water. It bobs on the surface, taunting and horrifying as you realize Tarn knows you’re here. You can’t leave though, even if the prey brain in you is beginning to awaken and wants to run as far as they can from the room and whatever is lurking below the waves. 

Work fast, get out faster. 

Stiff limbed, you switch to a crab sort of walk. A way to keep your face to the water and mopping the place without getting caught. It doesn’t matter though as the fin begins to move, closing in on the lip of the tank. 

You suddenly hate the crescendo in your ears from the music. 

Just as it reaches the peak, all hell breaks loose. An explosion of water, a huge figure beaching itself inches from your face. A scream at the tip of your tongue, but it never leaves as red eyes meet your own. 

Tarn.

There’s a crooning, deep and full-body that comes from the creature. It backs off, and as it does you catch sight of it more than just the eyes. Bulky shoulders, scars criss-crossing the body all the way down to the tail, purple and black scales, and the claws at the tips of its webbed fingers. 

Another croon has you looking back to the red eyes, which you notice are behind a strange, watery mask of some sort. They blink, you follow, heart pounding away in your chest. 

Then a hand lifts, one claw stretching out. 

This is it, death on one finger. 

Instead there is another call, this one a coo of sorts followed by a click. It touches your headphones. 

“Huh?” Is all you can think, and apparently squeak out. 

Another coo. Another poke to the head.

Reaching up, you pop off the headphones, mop dropping to the ground. “My headphones?” Music is still blasting away, a lull of soft instruments. “Or, uh, the music?” 

Tarn nods, red eyes squinting in what you think is joy. 

An idea hits, and you rush to turn off your headphones. The drop of music does seem to startle the mer, who starts to growl at you and as you rush for the phone in your pocket you call out, “Give me a minute!” 

Swiping up, you hit play in a rush, turning the noise all the way up. Instruments hit the air in a rush, their pattern swirling and calming if not for the fact a dangerous mer is standing before you. 

But that still seems to be enough, as he begins to sway, lowering himself to lay out on the deck with a coo. And suddenly you think there may be a way through this assignment. As long as he continues to enjoy the music that is. 

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Pancake eating contest! Fellow and Gidel vs. Ruggie! Who will win!

Sorry, I felt weirdly compelled to insert L*ona into this... Don't ask why--

The guy keeping time of the eating contest is a reference to Linguini from Ratatouille :DD I kept the ending to this one vague so you can imagine whoever you want to be the winner~

So tell me, do you wanna go?

[Pancake Eating Contest!!]

[Winner will be reimbursed the entry fee and will receive a coupon for all-you-can-eat breakfast at any of the participating Foothill Town restaurants for a full year!]

[Second place will earn a participation trophy.]

"C'mon, Giddie! Let's smoke the competition!" Fellow coaxed, pumping a fist. Already, he could smell the pancakes being cooked in the back of the joint, fluffy and warm and surely filling. He pictured clouds of whipped cream and a pat of butter like the rising sun to go with them.

"...!!" Gidel bounced up and down, attempting to showcase his readiness. They had been fasting all weekend in preparation for this momentous day.

"Leona-saaaaan!" Ruggie called out, waving to his dorm leader. "Watch me snag the win for us! I'll never have to--er, I mean, Magical Shift Club will never have to worry about shelling out for team meals for the rest of the year."

"... Can't believe I got dragged out all the way out here to be a wallet for some eating contest," Leona groused from the crowd of spectators. His gaze connected with Fellow's, and a fresh spike of irritation ran through him. "Damn it, you'd better win this, Ruggie--or it'll have been a waste of my time!"

Servers began rolling out from the kitchen, ferrying wobbling mounds of pancakes. The plates were set before them, glasses of water offered. (Ruggie refused, knowing that it would only take space away from pancakes. Gidel reached for a glass, only to have Fellow slap his hand away and tut.)

A spindly man with a mop of curly read hair and a stopwatch stepped into view. He checked the time, then nodded at the contestants.

"On your marks... get set... GO!!"

The feeding frenzy began.

Sharp nails and even sharper teeth pounced. The poor pancakes were eviscerated in seconds, loose bits caught by the table or floor, the rest snapped up in animalistic maws like little girls and grandmas down the hatch of a hungry wolf.

The pace with which they worked was fast, efficient. Ruggie and Fellow were raging beasts with their eyes on a distance prize.

(... Gidel, for his part, was far less quick. He clumsily sliced into a pancake, attempted to cram as much of it into his mouth as he could, then spent too long trying to chew it down to size.)

More pancakes came from the kitchen, as if produced by magic. They disappeared just as fast as they appeared, a wonderous vanishing act.

The spectators clapped and stomped their feet, kicking up a roar.

No blood would be spilt, but perhaps a glob of strawberry jam would.

[gyuswhore]

Hello :) It's my first time requesting but I've read most of your posts and I adore them a lot :)

Can I request something about woozi being such a sweet/soft boyfriend? Like, he just loves hugging you and is very clingy to you He also does everything he can especially if he got his free time? Because he's always seen as very closed off and reserved by other people but he acts so different around you. Thank you :))

Thank you so much for liking my work <3

Hope you like this one too!

masterlist

***

smothered:

"Jihoon, I need you to let go." You're trying to pry off the human stuck to your back preventing you from moving around the kitchen properly.

"Stay in one place," he responds, head still buried in your shoulder.

"I can't, I need to put this there-"

He perks up, grabbing the plate off your hands and placing it in the cabinet.

"Are you done?"

Looking around the now relatively clean kitchen, you remember something else that needs to be done, "No, I need to vacuum and mop."

The words are barely out of your mouth before he's turning around and leaving. Stunned for a moment, you wonder if he's stalked off upset, but as you hear the familiar roar of the vacuum going off in the bedroom you can only smile at his determination.

Deciding to match his motivation, you finish up the rest of your house chores so you can finally allow Jihoon to smother you. Or the other way around, you don't think he cares.

Once he's done turbo cleaning the floors, he finds you on the couch.

"What's next?" he asks.

You simply open up your arms in an invitation, "Loving me?"

He realizes he's obliged embarrassingly fast, subconsciously aware if any of the guys were seeing him. In the comfort of his home, and in your arms, he relaxes at last.

Jihoon, the same man who turns beetroot red when holding your hand in public, is currently smothering you in his scent, and you can't say you'd have it any other way.

[writing-whump]

Bad careraker

Needed a break from the drama, so have some Dylan with indigestion and Rip having no idea what to do about it.

When Dylan came home from his emergency hospital call from his sister, it was already late afternoon.

Rip spent the day polishing the kitchen, trying to manage the chaos Dylan left in his wake. Dylan was messy even on a good day, but when he got into something—like digging out his boxing gear or work-out equipment Rip couldn’t identify—their living room turned into a disaster zone.

Forced to live in less-than-clean environments in the last years, Rip cherished the chance to take care of this place—sweeping, dusting, mopping the floors—and he was practically in love with the dishwasher! It was the coolest thing, aside from actual clean plates without splitters that weren't plastic or from the garbage.

Plus, he felt like he was contributing something. Moving around the place was safe, and he could feel himself managing more and more on his feet every day. Which was good cause keeping up with Dylan's fast pace of ruining his work was a worthy challenge.

How Dylan functioned in that mess when he didn't have to was beyond Rip's reality.

When Dylan arrived, his shoes went, of course, flying in two different directions. He discarded his sweaty shirt on the floor as he went, then collapsed in the middle of the sofa in the living room. "Ugh, that was horrible."

Rip had to work hard to contain his annoyance to twitching eyebrows. "Hi to you, too."

Dylan buried his face into the tiny pillow on the sofa with a long-suffering sigh.

"How did it go?"

"Didn't find out much. Just Sel crying her eyes out and everyone being super secretive. God forbit someone finds out Isaiah was sick."

Rip raised his eyebrows, bracing his hands on the kitchen island that offered good view into the living room. Must have been something serious if it got the Executioner into a hospital. Especially one that had such extensive medical knowledge. Something even he couldn't handle?

"I have never seen her like that." Dylan turned his head to the side, facing the turned-off TV. "Or I did, but like an eternity ago. Not since when she came to my room to cry about some bullying classmate or some shit. She was 12."

Rip rubbed the back of his head, not sure if that was information Dylan should be sharing with a stranger. "Will they...ehh, be okay?"

"Should be coming home soon. Honestly, I don't get the drama, he's got a shadow and is healing up. What could be so bad? Touchy wolves and their invulnerability crap."

Rip wondered if he should remind him that Dylan was a wolf too. It was funny to watch how he sometimes counted himself among humans without thinking.

Dylan's cheeks suddenly puffed out and he burped loudly. "Ughhh. My stomach's killing me."

Rip cringed. "What did you eat?'

Dylan turned to the side, so he could rub at his middle with a grimace. "Took Sel to McDonalnds. I completely forgot about how greasy that food is. Didn't eat stuff like that for months."

Rip's gaze went to the collection of protein shakes and vitamins that covered the cupboards next to the sink. Dylan was surprisingly aware of his health, on a diet to grow his muscles and aid his gym efforts. It was hard to meet someone that obsessed with himself. "Why would you do that, then?"

"Cause I forgot, that's why! Had like two burgers, chicken nuggets and fries....and the one more, cause we were waiting on empty and it was getting weird." He opened his mouth with another loud burp, his stomach churning aggressively. "Damn, it's really brewing in there."

Once again, Rip was at a loss for words in the face of Dylan's unashamed openness.

"s gonna ruin my streak too," Dylan said mournfully as he lifted himself up into a sitting position, swallowing heavily.

"Why is that so strickt?"

Dylan gave him a glare. "You are not gonna get sixpack from McDonalds and chocolates, man. And I need to look good on videos if I want sport and vitamin companies to sponsor me." He looked terribly pleased with himself. "I'm gonna make thousands of euroes from being an infleuncer on TikTok with his physique, you just watch."

Rip would be glad to watch if he knew what TikTok was. Dylan forced his old Samsung on him but Rip got easily overwhelmed by the number of apps installed there. Didn't help Dylan's teaching skills encompassed zero patience. Just as short his attention span. This online genration.

Dylan groaned, kneading into his stomach with both hands. That worked up a string of loud belches.

Rip scrunched his nose. "Really, man?"

"What? It's helping."

"Is it?" Rip said dryly. Dylan was getting paler by the second, swallowing frantically. Rip stepped closer to the sofa, and sure enough, he could hear loud, upset gurgles through the whole living room. "Maybe you should lie down or something."

"You don't lie down with indigestion, stupid. Sitting up is supposed to help." His stomach gave another growl again, like a cornered wolf.

"...are you gonna hurl?"

Dylan winced, glaring indignant daggers at Rip. "No. Just feel sick is all."

"That's what that usually entails."

Dylan gulped again, breathing through his teeth. "Do we have something for it?"

"Huh? We?"

"Yeah," Dylan said sullenly. "Sel always has drops or tea or some digestion enzyms at hand."

Rip shrugged, never having any of that ever, not to mention at hand.

"What about coke or tea?"

"Man, I don't do the shopping." He hadn't been outside since the stabbing. Saving that up for later, after Isaiah promised to see over his shadow and figure out what he should do to interact with people normally. His only contact outside was Dylan. "I can get you water?"

"Water? Geez-buurp-thanks, no thanks." Dylan cradled his belly gently, a shiever rocking his spine as his jaw snapped up with another wet burp. "I really don't...feel good."

"What about you go to the bathroom so you don't make a mess?" Rip suggested in irritation.

"I'm not...not gonna throw up," Dylan protested but dragged himself clumsily to his feet, arm wrapped tightly around his stomach. Now that he was standing Rip could see how bloated it was, skin stretched around a giant ball instead of the usual toned muscles.

The black haired wolf followed after Dylan. He didn't really want to be around, he wasn't sure what to do, but it also didn't feel right to just leave him to it. Not when Dylan had been so crazy about helping him at every turn.

Dylan didn't get far, bracing against the kitchen sink as his throat bobbed, working out another burp. He shook his head and grimaced queasily. "Not sitting right. Really wants to fight its way out of there."

"Less talk and more moving," Rip said, cause this was looking too close for comfort. He tugged at Dylan's hand just when the brown-haired retched emptily over the sink.

"See? Hurry up. Sink is gonna be a hassle to clean."

"Y-you are so mean, anyone told you that?" Dylan whined, but let Rip pull him away and towards the bathroom.

Rip felt a stab of guilt and defensive anger. Why was Dylan making such a big deal about a little nausea? Was his own fault for eating crap he knew he shouldn't.

Dylan stumbled in front of the toilet and moaned pathetically towards the water, hands shaking as he grabbed the rim for support.

Rip made a move to leave, then bit his lip at the pitiful whine. Dylan was so dramatic. "What now? Anything else you want?"

"Jerk," Dylan said, spitting into the toilet. His belly gave a loud gurgly moan that ended in a deep rumbling belch towards the water. "Oh, that hurts."

"Where is your fighting spirit," Rip said bitingly, but turned back to stand over Dylan. What was his role supposed to be in this? Dylan obviously wanted something, making such a scene out of it, but Rip couldn't figure out what.

"T-hink the f-fries are winning this round," Dylan wheezed. His shoulders hitched as he retched, but only another burp came up.

"Let it happen already. Geez, you make a big deal out of this," Rip said, rolling his eyes. He was close enough to get the stench from Dylan's unmuffled burps.

Dylan lurched forward suddenly, a wet burp bringing up a small gush of puke. The next heave came right after, a much thicker wave of yellowy mush.

Rip grimaced and looked away, but Dylan's loud retches and throaty burps didn't leave much to imagination.

Dylan was holding onto the rim of the toilet with both hands, a long string of saliva hanging from his mouth. There were little tears of strain sliding down his cheeks and he was sniffling.

"That it?" Rip asked, reaching over to hand him a bunch of toilet paper. "Nothing to be so shaky over, come on."

Dylan lowered his head, lips quivering as he wiped his face. Rip flushed the toilet, still standing over him.

"C-could you get me some water?"

Rip scoffed. "Now he wants water. Honestly, you don't look like you can keep it down yet. Let's not waste it."

That had Dylan's head snapping up, cheeks all red. "You are such an asshole, it's not a waste-"

Rip sighed and drummed his fingers gently over Dylan's back. Dylan's eyes glazed over and he turned back over the bowl sharply as it worked up another burp.

The next one brought a new splatter of sick though.

Rip chuckled at how well that worked. "There you go. Just get it out."

[fanmoose12]

ok, but imagine that Levi want to glasses’s Room since Hange gave him permission to borrow one of their books and Levi take out Hange’s diary instead.

Levi doesn't really know what he's doing here, why is he still here, in this room that reeks like an old, forgotten library that suffered some terrible food-related accident.

Hadn't he already finished what he came here for in the first place? The weirdo is in their bed, snoring peacefully (and rather loudly) in their pillow, so why is he still here? Why doesn't leave? Why do his legs feel as though they're glued to the floor, refusing to move towards the exit? 

It’s the state of the room that is at fault, Levi convinces himself. It’s just– so damn filthy in here - the clothes are thrown over every surface, empty plates and cups populate the wardrobe, desk and even some corners on the floor, and, worst of all, is the papers - open and long-forgotten letters, books, half-finished reports, sketchbooks and journals - there is enough of that shit to create several piles of considerable size, and dust that all of it has been gathering for, evidently, quite some time, flies around in a form of small specks, sucking all the air out of the room. 

Levi… Levi simply cannot take it. 

The room is hideous, an abomination he needs to do something about, and… why can’t he? 

The four-eyed freak is fast asleep, and, judging by the dark circles that have been steadily growing in size under their eyes, they won’t wake up for quite some time. It’s the perfect opportunity, perhaps, the only one he’ll ever have - after all, he better than anyone knows just how much Hange hates it when someone invades their workplace. Even Moblit, their ever loyal right-hand man, doesn’t have that privilege.

But Levi has it now, and wasting it would be simply stupid. 

With his next cause of action decided, Levi nods to himself and finally gets legs to move. In a few quick steps he crosses the room and leaves it, but– not for long. 

He comes back swiftly, dressed and armed according to the battle he’s about to face. 

He starts with the window - opens it and pulls the curtains aside, letting sunlight and some needed fresh air inside. Then, he picks up all the clothes, brings them outside to the laundry basket, collects the cups and plates and returns them to the kitchen. He mops the floor, cleans the mirror, wipes dust from the wardrobe and the bookshelves. 

And after that, semi-satisfied with his job so far, Levi takes on his toughest opponent yet - Hange’s work desk. 

Before taking a seat on a chair, he wipes it with a rug several times, gives the same treatment to the surface of the desk, and only then begins to shift through the mess that four-eyes calls their workplace. 

They’ll thank him for that later, or - maybe, curse him, Levi’s ready for whatever outcome as long as his goal is achieved. No doubt, it’ll be worth it. And even if Hange indeed gets angry with him - luckily, he’s that much better at running than they will ever be. 

He briefly scans through each piece of paper, organizing all of them in different - smaller and that much neater - piles. 

Hange really is a hoarder, Levi finds reports and letters that are so old that the ink on them is barely visible, but even that - he doesn’t dare to throw away. He may be faster than Hange, but if they truly get mad at him, he knows there will be no safe place for him to run to. 

He spends nearly an hour like this - picking up a paper, skimming through its contents before deciding on what pile it should go to, and it’s only when his eyes begin to water from the exertion that Levi stumbles upon something truly unique. 

It’s a stack of papers, tied loosely together by a piece of rope, and at first - he thinks it’s yet another set of notes. But as he starts to read it - Levi realizes it’s something entirely different. 

On the first page Hange writes about the Survey Corps - the approximate number of the soldiers, their mission, their biggest accomplishments, the chain of command and all that boring bullshit Levi never thought they cared about. He very nearly tosses it aside, but decides to glimpse at a second page, and what he sees there stuns him into a stupor. 

The top part of the page reads simply Shadis, and next to it - Hange drew a little heart. 

Too curious to set it aside now, Levi delves in. After quite an unconventional beginning, Hange writes Shadis’ title, the amount of years he served in the Survey Corps and what little he managed to achieve in that time, and then - the weirdness continues. Hange describes some of the interactions they had with him, how their first meeting went, how aloof the man was during it and how it only made Hange’s wish to impress him stronger. They go on and on about him, the page is full of compliments that, in Levi’s completely unbiased opinion, Shadis does not deserve. It’s only near the end that Hange’s gushing starts to fade, transforming into bitter resentment instead. 

It’s not a report, Levi realizes, not a note from an experiment, it’s something deeply personal, something he definitely should not pock his nose into, but as he skips through a few pages and stumbles upon the one with his name on it - his curiosity grows too insistent not to be sated. 

‘Erwin brought in new recruits,’ the beginning of the page reads, ‘From the Underground, if rumors are to be believed. They do seem very pale, and all three of them have this look in their eyes, like… like they cannot quite believe that what they see is real. I caught them on top of the roof the other night, they were looking at the sky like they were seeing it for the very first time. It was not a moment that should have been intruded on, no matter how much I wish I did. Besides, I feel that should I have actually intruded on it, that constantly brooding guy - Levi - would have thrown me down the roof and to the ground without hesitation. So, naturally, I did not approach them. Although, I still stuck around for a while, watching them. The look on their faces, their happy smiles! Ah, I haven’t seen so much joy in a really long while. Even Levi seemed content, and, I must admit, without his ever present scowl, he looked even more handsome than usual. 

I definitely should talk to him, and soon - he might teach me a trick or two, if I get on his good side. We might even become friends! There is just something in him that… intrigues me. Sometimes I look at him and realize I don’t want to look away. It’s not just his exceptional skills either, although they surely are fascinating, there is something about his eyes. They make him look like a man twice his age, they’re guarded, appear nearly cold, but underneath all that, I sense… exhaustion, like he’s carrying a burden he cannot shake away. 

Ever since the three of them appeared, everyone has been treating them with nothing but scorn, and I wish… I could have changed it, show them all a bit of kindness. It doesn’t seem like they know much of it. 

They’re good people, I think, despite the circumstances they had to fight against while growing up. Or, perhaps, in spite of them. We’d be good friends, I think, if I manage not to scare them off like I usually do. And then - who knows, maybe, one day, I’ll make Levi smile too!

His smile does look very handsome.’ 

Feeling his cheeks grow hot, Levi pushes the papers aside, hiding them underneath one of the bigger piles. He hides his face into his hands and mutters a curse under his breath. 

Damned four-eyes. Always making him embarrassed, even when they’re not actually here. 

What even is that thing? Why pathologically obsessed with their research Hange dedicates their precious time to write something like this? And about him of all people? 

Levi steals a glance at them - still asleep, sprawled out on the bed and hugging a pillow to their chest, they look… adorable. Did they always look like that? He can’t believe he never noticed. 

As if drawn by some force beyond his comprehension, Levi stands up and approaches Hange’s sleeping form. They’ve kicked the blanket down to their feet, and, carefully, he picks it up and tucks them in. 

He stands above them for another moment, watching their peaceful expression, and then, before he can stop himself, he reaches out and gently moves a strand of their hair out of their face. He caresses their cheek with the back of his hand, his touch so light Hange doesn’t even stir from it. His hand hovers above them for a little longer, close enough that he can feel the warmth emanating from their skin. The temptation to touch it, to feel that warmth and allow himself to be engulfed in it is strong, and grows stronger with every beat of his heart. 

Levi nearly does it, but then - the spell might get broken. Or worse, he reasons, his rude intrusion might wake Hange up, and if they see him like that, watching them like some sort of a creep - he’d rather jump off the top of the Wall than go through this. 

Gathering all that’s left of his resolve, he takes a step back and leaves Hange’s room before he does something even more stupid. 

He goes straight to his bedroom, and, foregoing the shower, falls into bed. 

His cleaning spree must have exhausted him far more than he thought, because he falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. 

And at night, Levi dreams of starry sky, warm hands and gentle smile.

[iseethatimicy]

Cooking with Tsumsted Wonderland

Note: I think my last post was in Jan 27... So hi take this! (Reader uses They/Them pronouns and are gender neutral.) Characters: Tsum Riddle Rosehearts, Tsum Trey Clover, Tsum Floyd Leech Genre: Fluff and a bit of crack

You've been seeing videos about baking a variety of cakes and your friend's birthday is coming up. So what better way than to make one for them? Just as soon as you borrowed a recipe book from Trey, a curious small thing squeals, interested in what you're doing. You got yourself into this mess so now, you'll have to finish it but with a special guest..

Oh Tsum Riddle, always so demanding. He squeals angrily at you to stir faster, to mix faster, to knead the dough harder. He isn't even helping other than being a pressure head like that birthday cake is meant to be for him. No Twist-tube Tutorials, No Recipe book that Trey handed to you, No help from other students!

That damn little tsum wants a Strawberry Cake and you're forced to obey him. You had no other choice than to get a red and white icing bag, a bowl of fresh red strawberries, a carton of eggs, etc. Hell, it's not even Riddle or his birthday!

You're stirring the bowl so fast it might spill all over on the kitchen island just as how that unhinged plush toy likes it, knead the dough as slow as Rook Hunt listening carefully to your breathing unless you want to bitten by him.

Eventually, you finish the cake. It was 3 layers tall and you tried as hard as you can to make it similar to the delicious ones Trey makes. You were tired from all cooking and decided to get a chocolate snack from the School's Mystery shop. Surely the tsum will be a good plush toy and certainly won't devour the entire thing, right?

When nobody is looking, the Tsum Riddle can't help himself from taking a small bite from the delicious looking cake. Although it's a little cheeky and sneaky, He's just tempted by the delicious smell of the delicious strawberry cake and the fact that it looks so cute and edible too.

Well Tsum Trey's got your back! He's giving out the icing bags Trey uses, the crimson stained knife that totally came from cutting a piece of strawberry cake, the strawberries and bee-shaped candies...

He was surprisingly calm and patient little tsum unlike the demanding crimson haired tsum tsum, He helps knead the dough, carry the plate of candies, help with the cake decorations.

The cake was finished and had a special key to it! First layer represented dorm your friend is assigned to; Diasomnia. It had a green base and had black icing shaped like thorns wrapped around the sides of the cake, It looked exactly like the dorm.

The second layer was a sweet bee theme and had a mellow yellow color on its base. The tsum trey who assisted you seemed to be proud of honey taste and its bee motifs, almost likes its his favorite.

The third layer was the dorm they wanted to be in; Octavinelle. It had a periwinkle base and detailed tentacles used in a ribbon design, draping from dull lavender colored bows with black stripes on them. The layer seemed to be themed around the sea.

He stared at you while laying on the cutting board lazily. Azul had let you use Octavinelle's Kitchen oh so kindly with a price. He's so helpful providing you with tools but so annoying for demanding so much attention, He's a very needy little tsum tsum.

You were thinking of doing a simple two-layered chocolate cake. You had to keep petting the Floyd tsum every 10 minutes so it definitely won't crush your wrist. He was squealing and cuddling onto you, begging for just a small slice of the chocolate cake.

Whilst you were adding lilac-colored decorating on the sides, the tsum tsum had latched on your hand and bit into it, causing the icing to spill all over the kitchen island. You glared at the tsum angrily and set it aside, going to find a bucket of water and a mop along with a new icing bag.

He squeals apologetically as you left the kitchen. Well, since now that you're gone, he can at least get a small, teeny bite of the cake. surely you'll be fine with it, right? When you get back, your jaw drops as you see half of the chocolate cake being gone while the tsum squeals happily, rolling around at how it tastes good. Let's just say the tsum is.. err..

© ISEETHATIMICY. I do not consent for my work to be plagiarized, repost, or translate without permission. If you would like to make a similar idea, please credit me.

[yril-writes]

— DADDY'S LITTLE PRINCESS

synopsis ; growing up is something a parent is afraid of apparently, since they don't get to spoil their little princess now that she asks to be treated like a big girl now.

scenario ; an alternative universe wherein, these characters are the reader's dad and that reader is their little princess daugther.

type ; headcanon

include/s ; ushijima & bokuto

pairings ; dad character & daughter reader

genre ; fluff, comedy, and a mountain full of corn

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

Ushijima isn't the doting type of father, since he isn't much of a fan of children. He thinks that they are noisy and can totally drain his energy, Ushijima isn't a fan of children especially if they are crying and being all loud and all.

But Ushijima is likes to spoil his daughter, seeing his daughter happy gives him the satisfaction. He would buy anything his daughter wanted.

But a day like this, Ushijima didn't expect that his daughter suddenly changed, turned matured even.

"Daddy! From now on you'll call me by my name and my name only! I'm already 9 years old soon to be 10 this week! I am a big girl now!" she says in a high pitched voice as she pumps her chest with her hand in a fist. What a breakfast to start a day hearing this, Ushijima grinned and gave a low chuckle setting aside the spoon and fork he was holding and crossing his arms looking at his daughter beside him removing the vegetables piece by piece from her dish. He immediately thought, that the sight he witnessed is too cute to handle, despite saying that she is a big girl now, like a kid she still does not like to eat her vegetables. "Well, princess. If you're such a big girl now. Why not eat those vegetables you missed?" using his chin to point at the plate, she immediately covers it using her hands. "But you know that I hate vegetables, and I told you to call me my name, Daddy!" pouting almost like she is turning into a red tomato, crossing her arms and looking away was her best and last resort to avoid eating the vegetables. "I guess my princess, is still my little princess." Ushijima shrugs and gives out a disappointed sigh, copying her daughter by looking to her side avoiding eye contact from his daughter. "Daddy, m'sorry are you mad?" trying to get Ushijima's attention by these words didn't work at all, he was determined to ignore her and she was impatient. It didn't take long when she started taking a bite on the vegetables on her plate, nibbling on the pieces she looked like she was about to cry from eating it. Mumbling apologies as she eats all of what's in her plate, until Ushijima decides to turn back to her to see her mopping and snot dripping down her nose. "Daddy, I ate all the veggies...are you still mad?" though tears still fell from her eyes, Ushijima stopped the act and cleaned her face up. "My, my, what do we have here. I guess my little princess is still a crybaby after all." Ushijima wipes her tears away, and gives a small peck on her forehead as he starts to comfort her. "There, there. My little princess don't you dare grow too fast now or I won't have to spoil you this much."

BOKUTO KOUTAROU

Bokuto is too energetic for his own good, compared to his daughter she is a lot calmer and less energetic as her.

He is the supportive dad any kid could ask for, but unfortunately his daughter as of now, claims that she is old enough not to be treated as a baby by her father.

It was time for another night to watch a horror movie, since it is their tradition to do so, like how they bond.

"Daddy! I will sit alone! Here in this chair! Since I am a big girl now, I can watch these horror movies without sitting next to you!" she claimed the chair as if it was her property then covered herself with her favorite blanket. Bokuto who is in the urge to cry because felt as if her daughter is growing up too fast. "But this is a scary one, princess. And I know you don't like scary things..." with a tone of like a kid begging, Bokuto even gave the puppy eyes to his beloved daughter, but she flat out rejected him. "No, I told you I can handle this! I can even watch it myself without you, Daddy!" proudly saying those words out loud was enough to know Bokuto's pride down. (Ah...tell me I misheard what she said...my little princess...) shedding a tear on his eye, Bokuto proceeded to put the channel on to the scary movie. As of the moment, he is sitting beside his daughter only because she chooses to sit a little bit apart with the other chair. Bokuto who is totally in sync with the movie, didn't even flinch when the jump scares came up, except when it came to his daughter muffled screams were heard from her. "Honey, you know that you can sit here with me right?" He pats on the empty space of the couch, trying to tempt his daughter to sit next to him. But she still insists on sitting alone in the chair, trembling with fear as if she is about to cry if there was another jump scare going to pop from the television and it did. Making her shriek then soon enough tears soon built up in her eyes. "Daddy...!" she is basically bawling her eyes out now, shoving herself in the blanket. Bokuto immediately carried her into his arms and sat right back in the couch, holding her in how you hold a baby infant made him feel nostalgic. "You know, I used to carry you like this when you were still little. I miss carrying my little princess like this." he snuggles his daughter tightly into his arms and gives her a kiss on the forehead. "But you can still carry me like this, Daddy..." she says in a shy tone of voice and then gives out a soft grin. "Of course, you are still, Daddy's little princess."

a/n ; yril here! I opened my ko-fi account! Basically I'll do commissions for my needs since I'll be studying away from home, I want to earn even just a little bit to help myself!

taglist ; @sammushy

masterlist

[bucksaiga]

"I witnessed a murder"

TW for graphic depictions of violence!!

Billy hardly had any visitors since moving to California. When he heard an urgent knocking on the door, all he could wonder was “where the hell’s the fire?”

He swung the door open in annoyance, his mouth falling agape the moment he saw his nearly forgotten little stepsister standing out in a rainstorm, drenched from her head to her canvas shoes.

They stared at each other for a moment, her eyes empty, his full of concern, before he finally invited her in. 

“Gonna tell me what the hell you’re doing here?” He asked.

She remained silent, trembling, shivering. Eventually, he sighed.

“Wait right here.” He stomped off, quickly returning with a towel and fresh clothes. “Bathroom’s over there.” He casually pointed down the hall and to the left. 

Max nodded and stepped out of her shoes, her soaking wet socks sloshing on the floor, leaving behind wet footprints, much to Billy’s dismay.

He liked to keep the place clean, and footprints had no place in a clean apartment. But, whatever. He quietly mopped them up and waited for Max to explain why she traveled all the way from Hawkins to Los Angeles in nothing but a stained, quarter-sleeve tee shirt and jeans. 

Max took a shower and cleaned up her mess. She hung her wet clothes over the shower bar and stepped out in Billy’s old Hawkins gym uniform. The shirt reached her upper thighs, and the shorts were too big. She had to tighten the waist with a hair tie she found on the bathroom floor.

When she exited the bathroom, she searched around for Billy, and found him in his kitchen, at the dining table, setting a place for her.

“Sit. Eat something.” His offer came off as a gentle demand Max felt she had no other choice but to accept.

She joined Billy at the table, slowly eating the spaghetti and meatballs he cooked—he cooked?! Billy doesn’t cook. Max thought to herself. 

“You gonna tell me what you’re doing here now?” Billy spoke up halfway through dinner.

“I…witnessed a murder.”

The fork holding Billy’s last meatball fell from his hand, clanking against his plate. “You what?!” He leaned forward.

“I was skating to The Byers for game night when I saw these two men—“ Max shook her head in disbelief. “They chased me. I skated as fast as I could to the bus depot, when I reached a pothole and my board snapped in half. So I had to run the rest of the way. I spent the last of my allowance on a bus ticket. I was gonna go anywhere, but the bus to LA was leaving in 15 minutes, and there were a few seats available, so…I came here.”

“Did they see you get on that bus?”

“I don’t think so." She shook her head. "I lost them in a crowd on my way to the terminal. I ditched my orange hoodie and let my hair down, hoping they wouldn’t recognize me.”

“And…nobody knows you’re here?”

She shook her head once again. “Not even Lucas.”

Billy heavily exhaled. “This is really fucked up, Max. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, but nobody’ll suspect me of coming here. We haven’t spoken in 4 years.”

“That’s really not the point—“

“I’m home!” A voice announced from the doorway. “It finally stopped raining—oh, hey Max!”

Max turned, her eyes wide. “Steve?” She turned back to Billy. “Are you guys like…friends now?”

“Friends who fuck.” Billy replied nonchalantly. 

“Gross!”

“You made dinner? Is there some for me?”

“Make your own fuckin’ plate.” Billy snapped. “I’m trying to talk to Maxine about something serious.”

“Alright, alright. No need to be so snippy.” Steve grabbed a plate from the cabinet. “So what brings you by?”

“She witnessed a murder and ran off to our house, of all places.”

“Whoa, whoa whoa—A murder?!” Steve exclaimed in disbelief. “In Hawkins? Who was it?”

“I-I don’t know. Some man—“

“Some man? What’d he look like?”

“I could hardly see his face before the bullet went through his brains and he dropped to the ground!”

“Lighten up on her, Steve. She’s freaked out.” Billy spoke protectively, much to Max’s surprise.

“I know, I know. I’m just worried.”

“We gotta tell someone you’re here.”

“Why? I’m 17 years old—“

“And you’re still a minor. Your mom’s probably worried sick. You’re a day and a half away from home.” 

“But—“

“How about this: In the morning, I’ll drive you out to a payphone, and you can call your mom from there.”

Max reluctantly agreed. “Okay.”

“Don’t get too comfortable.” He snatched her empty plate off the table. “Get up and let Steve sit there. We only have 2 dining table chairs.”

“It’s alright, Max.” Steve waved off as he leaned against the counter with his plate. “You can stay as long as you want. We have this really big walk in closet that we haven’t made use of yet—“

“Cause we’re broke and don’t have enough shit to put in it.”

Steve scoffed. “Anyway, we still have the old air mattress we used before we got our bed, so you can sleep there.”

“I dunno.” Max grimaced. “Did you guys…do…it…on there?”

“Are you crazy?!” Billy exclaimed, his mouth full from his second helping. “If we tried half the shit we do in the bedroom on that flimsy ass mattress, it would’ve popped the night we bought it.”

“Ugh! Could you please spare me the details?”

“Ignore him, Max. The mattress is clean, and it’s yours for as long as you need it. But at some point, you gotta go home. There’s only 2 weeks of summer vacation left until school starts.”

“And who knows when those men are gonna come looking for you—“

“Billy!”

“What?! I’m just thinkin’ ahead.” Billy sighed. “Look, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. Neither will Steve. So just…” Billy turned his head away. “Go to bed.”

“But I’m not tired yet.”

“Well, go watch TV or something. I dunno.”

“Okay.” 

“Want a beer?” Billy offered.

Max wrinkled her nose. “No thanks.” She stood from the table and walked to the living room.

“Why would you offer her a beer?” Steve loudly whispered.

“What’s the problem? That’s how I deal with stress.”

“She’s not you. She needs someone right now. Go in there and talk to her.”

“And say what?”

“Anything. She’s your sister.”

“She’s not my—“

Billy was met by a stern glance from Steve, and he groaned in annoyance. “Jesus, fine, I’m goin’.”

“That’s my baby.” Steve kissed his forehead. 

Billy forced himself down the hall and to the living room, where he sat beside Max as she watched Married With Children. 

“Al Bundy’s an ass.” Billy remarked. 

“He is.” Max agreed. 

“Not a bigger ass than Neil, though.” He chuckled. “Has that son of a bitch been giving you a hard time back home?”

“He left 7 months after you did.”

“Really?” Billy raised his brows in surprise. “Where the hell did he go?”

“I dunno. I don’t care either. I’m just glad he’s gone.”

“Yeah.”

Silence fell between them for the rest of the episode. Billy glanced up at Steve, who vaguely gestured for him to continue trying to comfort Max. 

This was hard. He didn’t know how. Why couldn’t Steve do it? He was better at comforting people. Besides, Max seemed fine—

Or…maybe not. Billy could hear the soft sniffle as he caught Max wiping a tear from her eye. 

Great. Now what could he say?

“It’s uh...it's gonna be okay, Max.” That was a stupid thing to say. Billy berated himself. 

“I’m really scared. I shouldn’t have come here. I don’t wanna put you in danger. You seem like you’re building a nice life with Steve.”

“I’m…trying. Look, you didn’t have anywhere else to go. I’m not mad at you for coming here.”

“You’re not?”

“No. I’ll kill anyone who tries to hurt you, Max. We’re still family. Sort of. I guess.” Billy shrugged. “I don’t care. Either way, if someone comes through that door and tries to hurt you, they’re dead. You understand?”

Max nodded. “Thank you.”

Once it had gotten late, Max fell asleep. Billy carried her to the air mattress and Steve covered her with a blanket. 

Steve then set one chair in front of the door where he sat with a baseball bat. 

Billy set the other chair in front of the makeshift bedroom where Max slept, armed with an axe.

“…We need more chairs.” Billy mumbled.

[lala3244]

Heartbreaks Belphegor

~ Finally got around to make another one! I wrote this one on my phone… tell me what you think and which brother I should do next ~

—————————————————————————

You started dating them but others had decided they should date demons of powerful lineage not a mere human.

Warning: hurt/no comfort also not proofread!

—————————————————————————

Diavolo Lucifer Mammon Satan Asmodeus

—————————————————————————

One night, you decided to go to the planetarium in the House of Lamentation. It was quiet and you had a rough day. You hoped that no one would find you there. When you walked inside, you saw a form under a blanket on the floor. You sighed. You couldn’t be alone even for a minute but still you advanced further inside. The form moved and a mop of hair appeared that you recognised. It was Belphegor. You didn’t really know the youngest of the seven brothers as he was often sleeping all day either in his room or in the attic. You saw his eyes peeking through his fringe, half asleep still and with a sleepy voice he said « Hey! ». You smiled at him timidly and waved but you stopped in your tracks. You didn’t know if he would want you to be there. He sat up and rubbed his eyes then looked at you with a friendly smile. « What brings you here? ». You shrugged, you couldn’t really say « I need to be alone… » so you decided with « I needed somewhere quiet ». He nodded his head as if he understood. « I guess being from another world must be quite overwhelming. Come and sit next to me. We will look at the stars in silence. » you blushed. You didn’t know he could be so considerate and sat down under the blanket. He made it really comfortable. 

You were still wary of him. He was a demon after all and you never hung out with just him but he just laid still next to you. A few minutes passed and you decided to lie down, so you took one of the many pillows he had brought with him. The pillow engulfed your head so perfectly, in a few minutes you were already asleep. Belphegor wasn’t moving next to you but he was aware of your movements and when your breathing slowed, he released a breath he wasn’t aware that he was holding. He turned his head to look at you. He watched you sleeping and looked at your face for a while before closing his eyes to join you in your dreams.

You woke up in your bed, startled by the sound of your alarm. You sat up and looked around, wondering how you got into your bed. You stopped your alarm and decided to get up. You felt well rested and ready to take on the day! The first time since you can remember! You got ready for RAD still wondering what happened and went to have breakfast. You weren’t the first one there; Asmodeus and Lucifer were already at the table. The eldest was reading a newspaper and Asmo was looking at his phone. They didn’t even look up when you entered the room so you said a quiet hello as to not startled them. They returned your greeting still looking down. You giggled quietly and sat down. The food was already on the table so you decided to help yourself. You heard someone, it was Beelzebub. He sat down next to you with a smile on his face. He leaned down and whispered to you « did you have a good sleep? ». You blushed, you weren’t expecting him to talk to you so you just nodded, looking at your plate but he carried on. « I’m the one who brought you to your bed. I was looking for Belphie and I saw you fast asleep so I took the initiative. I hope you don’t mind ». You looked at the giant in the eyes « of course, I don’t mind. That was really sweet of you ». He gave you a big smile and started to help himself of some breakfast. Belphegor arrived and sat at the other side of you. « Hey. Did you sleep alright? » you looked at him, « Yes, the best sleep I ever had in months ». He smirked, looking proud of himself. « Good to know. I hope we can spend more time together again ». He smiled at you tenderly. You nodded and turned your gaze away to hide your cheeks reddening. The heat from your cheeks didn’t fade until you left the table and hid for a few minutes in your room to calm yourself down. You didn’t understand why you were so flustered by him but you assumed it was just a one-off thing and that next time it’ll be better. 

The day was long at RAD. Pop quiz in almost every class and every time you had some free time someone needed you for one thing or another. You couldn’t even go to the toilet without someone following you and talking to you. When the classes were finished, Asmodeus took you shopping for a new product that came out that day and you had to wait with him for an hour in a queue outside the shop. When you finally arrived home, you went straight to your room where the door had been left ajar and you peeked inside to see Mammon and Levi arguing. You sighed and shook your head « Nah, I’m not dealing with whatever that is! ». So you turned back and went to the planetarium instead. You kind of hoped Belphegor would be there again. He weirdly made you feel better. You tried to be quiet moving around the house as you didn’t want to meet anyone. You arrived at your destination safely without talking to anyone and you were relieved. You sat down and looked up. You enjoyed the silence and the stars, trying to empty your head of all thoughts. Dinner was almost ready and you needed to recover some energy before going to the dining room. You could already feel the chaos coming from everywhere and it gave you a headache already. You closed your eyes and imagined your life back in the human realm. Your house were you lived alone and how granted you took your life back then. You loved your life here but there was always someone every single second of every day. 

You felt a hand on your shoulder and you looked up. Your heart missed a beat when you realised it was the Avatar of Sloth. Unconsciously, a smile appeared on your face which was returned by the demon. He sat down next to you, silently as if knowing that was what you needed. After a few minutes of his silent presence, your headache faded away and you felt calmer. He startled you by talking « I knew I would find you here. I came to tell you that dinner was ready and Lucifer enquires that you join us. » You nodded and he helped you get up by offering his hand which you took happily. After you stood up and started to walk towards the dining room, he kept your hand in his but you didn’t mind. He let go of your hand before entering the room but put his hand on the small of your back to guide you to your seat. You felt Lucifer’s gaze all along and during the dinner as well. You tried to not feel overwhelmed with all the attention the other brothers needed from you. Belphegor was a strong presence next to you which comforted you and when dinner was over you stood up rapidly as it wasn’t your turn to clean or do the dishes but Lucifer stopped you. « Wait! I need to talk to you. » You sighed discreetly, nodded and waited for everyone to leave. When everyone had left, he gestured you to the chair next to him for you to sit down so you obeyed him. He looked at you, concern in his eyes. « What’s wrong? ». Tears started to fill up your eyes and you cracked. You told him everything and you finished by saying « I just need an hour where I am alone that’s all I want ». You could see relief on his face and he nodded in agreement. « I see. You can go now, I’ll make sure my brothers don’t bother you as much ». You wiped the couple of tears that managed to escape and smile at the demon in front of you « Thank you Lucifer ». You left and went to your room to get ready for the night. You laid down on your bed to study but fell asleep straightaway. You woke up, refreshed by a good night sleep and weird memories of Belphegor coming into your dreams to talk to you. 

The following days were better. The brothers were bothering you a lot less so you felt better and always had your alone time every day which was nice but you still went to the planetarium for the quiet. Belphegor would join you every day and you would have small talk between long hours of silence. Both of you would often fall asleep, next to each other but never touching. You had the best sleep next to him and you would always dream of him. It actually felt more like he came into your dream as if he was real but everything around wasn’t. AND It blew your mind! Could he come inside them?! So one morning when you woke up you decided to ask. « Belphegor? » He half-opened his eyes « Hmm? » You scooted closer to him and whispered, a bit scared to sound foolish « Can you come inside people’s dreams? » He opened his eyes fully and smirked « Yes, indeed I can » Your eyes widened, some of the dreams you could remember, even if they were blurry, were a bit naughty and were about him. You put your hands on your face to hide your shame. Belphegor laughed and took your wrist to take your hands away. You hid your head in the pillow, you couldn’t face him anymore but that action made him laugh even louder. He calmed down and stroked your hair. You turned your head again and scoffed, looking at him. He got his face closer « That was cute ». You frowned, wondering what he meant, « My reaction or my dream ?» He chuckled and made a sound as if he was really wondering what he was going to answer « I’d say both! » You groaned, embarrassed while he chuckled again. His face, still close to you, became serious and he leaned in closer. Your lips were almost touching and your heart started beating faster. He closed the gap and softly kissed you. Your breath hitched at the sensation but the moment was interrupted by Beel who were looking for you as it was time for breakfast. You got ready to go to RAD, a small smile on your face. When you were ready, Belphegor knocked on your door which you opened and asked you if you were ready. You nodded your head and he took your hand. You walked to class hand in hand with the demon, a bit embarrassed by the new situation but happy nevertheless. 

The following weeks were the same but your relationship with the youngest of the brothers got stronger as were the rumours in the Devildom. You have heard a lot of crazy stories, such as you used a magic potion to make him fall in love with you or that you tricked him, that one had many options in how you did it or that it was a dare: you could hear as you walked past other demons “how could a demon be with a human like them?!” Every time it would break your heart but you carried on as you started to fall in love with him. You would sleep with him every night, either snuggling in his bed , in the planetarium or in the attic and every time getting closer and more intimate when the circumstances would permit it. You didn’t think that you dating one of the most powerful demon of the Devildom would be such a problem but one day you and Belphegor got told to see Lord Diavolo in his office. When you arrived, Lord Diavolo had a grave face and you worried. The usual happy demon wasn’t there and you hoped nothing important happened. He started to talk “I know you are both dating and if it were up to me I would let you date but the House of Lords and more nobles had made complaints about it.” You looked at him, stunned “What do you mean, complaints?” He sighed “They don’t agree with a human being the mate of one of the seven brothers.” You could sense that Belphegor was starting to get pissed. “I understand that but how is that a problem?” Diavolo shook his head “I might be the future King but they still hold a lot of power and a lot of demons follow them. I need to protect everyone.” Tears started to fall from your eyes and you looked at Belphegor, he started to yell at the future King but you knew nothing that you would say would change anything. After Lord Diavolo managed to calm down Belphegor by throwing him out of the building physically, he came to talk to you . He sat next to you and held your hand. “I am so really sorry. If I could change their minds I would. I couldn’t say it, yet, in front of him but you need to know that they found someone for him to date” You let go of his hand and stood up. “I thank you Lord Diavolo for your honesty. I will see you later”. You left the office and went back to your room. You locked the door, took some earphones and went under the blanket. You had to escape the world for a while, so you texted Lucifer to say you didn’t feel well so they couldn’t disturb you. He asked if you were okay anyway but you just said that you needed to sleep. You spent hours on your phone but you ignored everyone’s messages and calls, especially Belphegor’s. 

You couldn’t fall asleep that night, so when it was time to get up, you texted Belphegor

You: I think it would be best if, for at least a week, we weren’t talking to each other, please?

He never answered but did ignored you for the whole week. You were sad and not your usual self which the other brothers could see. Sweet how they were, they tried to cheer you up how they could while Belphegor would hide any time he could. After that week, you knew he had to start meeting that new demon and you knew it would break your heart so that was why you had asked him to avoid each other so you could be prepared. Finally you saw them together. You were in awe the demon he was with was the most beautiful being you had ever seen in your life and you felt ridiculous. How could you ever compete with a demon anyway? After that you did everything you could to not be in the same room as the Avatar of Sloth. You stayed in your room most of the time or out with one of the brothers but never with him but he finally did it. He went to talk in your dreams. At first, it was comforting, it felt like memories coming back to life but then when you woke up you would cry, realising it wouldn’t be anymore. You started to get anxious to go to sleep and dream. It was wonderful to be back in his arms but so heartbreaking when you woke up and then you realised. It was him, it was real in a way. He came into your dreams to spend time with you without anyone knowing but the two of you and it was sweet of him but it wasn’t healthy for your mental. So after the last dream where you were lying down on a blanket in a meadow, smells of nature enveloping you, snuggled on his chest talking about your day, you woke up and started to sob uncontrollably. You cried for hours and you decided enough was enough and you went to look for him. You found him in the planetarium and you tried to rouse him slowly. He woke up and looked at you. He stared at you and saw your red and puffy face. He sat up and tried to put his arms around you to comfort you but you stopped him. “Please don’t! You have to stop coming into my dreams. You are making it so difficult to move on from you. If I can’t be with you in real life then I don’t want to be with you in dreams.” You left and went back to sleep. 

====================================

THE END

Well, I don’t know what time it is where you live but for me it is time to sleep. Gotta work in the morning! I hope you enjoyed reading this one as Belphegor is not one of the brothers I know the most… or like the most… (not that I hate him or dislike him, just got no connection with him even though I am too the youngest sibling but of 5 not 7…)

[madameaug]

Hrs n Hrs || JJK x OC

Pairing: Jungkook x Jennette

WC: 1.1k >

Context: Jungkook showing up for Jennette in her times of need. Super-duper sweet Jungkook

A/N: I may add more in the morning, but I wanted to publish something (it's been a minute)

Jennette sighed, rubbing her forehead with the rubber gloves she used to wash dishes. Last night, Jennette and Jungkook hosted a birthday dinner party for her little sister Asia. She was officially an adult, stepping into her identity as a young woman. Jennette didn't realize how many dishes had stacked up after the five-person dinner party.

Jungkook didn't linger in bed long. He was naturally morning and enjoyed starting his day with a brief cardio session. Typically, that was with a half-mile jog to the park and back to the apartment. He laced up his tennis shoes, getting ready to head out but stopped in his tracks.

Jennette in her all of her morning glow, scrubbed the plate in her hand with the scrub daddy in her hand. Her braids slightly swayed above her butt crack, showing the force she was putting into her scrubbing. Placing his water bottle down, Jungkook stalked over to Jennette.

"Morning." He applied a quick peck to her cheek. His hands rested on her hips.

"Hey." Jennette pulled away, noticing Jungkook was in his running clothes. His hair was slightly up in a fluffy ponytail. "Going on a run?"

"Yeah, after this." Jungkook rolled up his sleeves, grabbed a drying rag, and wiped down the damp plates. Jennette smiled, grateful for the assistance.

"Alexa play 'How Many Drinks' by Miguel ft. Kendrick Lamar." Jungkook spoke out the robotic device. Jennette immediately perked up, dancing to the song. She and Jungkook harmonized with Miguel, clearing the entire sink of dirty dishes.

Soon enough, the cleaning expanded past the sink, kitchen, and living room. Brooms were brought out, warm water ran for the mops, and the swifter collected the dust mites. It was two hours before Jungkook and Jennette finished cleaning their entire place.

Jennette lifted Jungkook's arm, placing it over her shoulder. Sitting down on the couch. Heads connected, Jennette watched Jungkook's stomach inflate and deflate. Her hand rested on his abdomen, rubbing it softly. The pair dozed of in the warmth of each other.

<3 <3

Procrastination was a nasty habit Jennette developed in her undergraduate years. Waiting until the eleventh hour to turn in assignments created just enough stress to allow her fingers to type fast enough to turn in the assignment before the 11:59 deadline. Now that she was a professional in her career, such habits have lingered into her day-to-day life.

The Atlanta Child Protective Services (ACPS) was preparing for their annual audit in November. The audit was always near the Thanksgiving holiday, and it was a time in which Jennette was on her last leg. As much as she enjoyed the winter months, the fellowship and quality time with family. She just needed to get to the Wednesday and she would be done til December first.

Her head lay in the center of her crossed arms. The blank report glared right back at her. Five o'clock was approaching, and she wanted to log out of her computer. But the workload for tomorrow would just become too unbearable. She needed to do half of the tasks tonight.

Her head shot up when she heard Jungkook's keys twist, opening the door. Fuck! It was her night to make dinner, and she hadn't started anything. Dragging herself out of her office, she rattled off apologies, taking out random pots and frying pans.

"Jeanie, calm down." Jungkook sipped his Sonics slushie.

"I texted you earlier to let you know I was craving Sonics. I picked you up something, too." Jungkook pointed to the fast food bag sitting at her designated spot on the table.

"Thank you bug."

"What's got you all worked up?" Jennette explained the pickle she got herself into. Jungkook nodded attentively. He always found a way to resolve issues timely. He was an action-oriented person. If he needed to do something, he did it. Right then and there, he never allowed for thoughts in the back of his mind to convince him to put if off for 'later'.

"Well, you can't work on an empty stomach. Let's eat and then we can go back to the audit stuff."

Jungkook kept Jennette completely distracted from her looming task. As he recalled his training session tonight at the gym. He was preparing for a fight this weekend. He would be going against his dear friend Mingyu. The pair would be sparing to raise money for a charitable cause. The money would be going to fans battling a terminal illness. Jennette gushed hearing Jungkook talk about the charity in such a light. It made her heart warm, knowing that he genuinely cared about the wellbeing of the fans who watched him.

"Chop chop, Jeanie." Jungkook pointed at his naked wrist. "We got work to do." Jennette groaned.

"Let's have dessert, then I'll do work."

"I'll give you dessert after you finish your work." Jungkook wiggled his eyebrows. His tongue sticking out to lick his lips.

"I was thinking strawberries and whipped cream." Jungkook helped Jennette out of the chair, escorting her to her office. The computer screen was now black.

" I'm not feeling the strawberries, but I make you and the whipped cream work." A lightbulb went off in Jungkook's head.

"Sit here." He looked down at Jennette before exiting her office. Jennette cracked her knuckles before typing a few procedural sentences on her document. She pulled up a list of the cases of children she had over the past year. 231 kids. 231 reports she would need to review and place into the folder for the audit.

Jungkook came back into the room with a can of whipped cream. A devious smirk on his face.

"For every ten minutes, you work diligently, equates to one squirt of whipped cream and a kiss."

"What if I just want the whipped cream." Jennette teased just to flatten out the smirk on his lips. She rolled her eyes, hearing his reply.

"Too bad, they're a packaged deal."

"Fine." Jennette pulled up a timer before reviewing the first case she handled.

<3 <3 <3

A/N: Also, Hrs & Hrs by Muni Long has been on repeat so much for this like the song just makes me feel so good. Same for How Many Drinks.

[sabba-tumbling]

Thank you so much @agirlandherquill for tagging me! This is my contribution to the seventh day of writemas:

Prompts: "You never should have smiled at me."/the dead of night/he tried to speak, he tried his hardest, but no sound would come/stillness

Life is made of choices, and that blows, because Draco Malfoy was famously bad at making choices, a trait that, regrettably, had brought him to that moment where yet another choice was demanded of him, the painful death by an UTI or a fast descent into madness by sleep deprivation.

UTI was winning so far, he had seen enough of Aunt Bella to know madness wasn't a good look in the Black family.

Not daring to turn his head, he glanced at the mop of inky black hair from the corner of his eye. Lucky bastard, everything was always handed on a silver plate to The Chosen One, he got to sleep peacefully through that stormy spring night, free to get up and piss whenever he liked, while Draco was pinned down by the weight of the five-year-old who had decided, in a spectacular lapse of judgement, to make his nightmares Draco’s problem despite the saviour of the wizarding world being right there.

Another thunder boomed and Draco tensed as little Edward shifted against his side, letting out a mumble. He felt more than saw The Boy Who Lived wake up, green eyes blown black in the dark of their room, immediately casting a silencio, wandless and wordless, before he could wake his godson up.

Having The Yapping One for a partner caused an auror to develop all sorts of abilities.

Draco didn't bother fighting back a smile as his infuriating boyfriend tried to say something, frowning in irritation in a way that crinkled that charming crooked nose. It wasn't his fault, he told Harry to learn how to cast a non-verbal finite incantatem.

"Don't wake him up," Draco mouthed silently. "I'm feeling unforgiving."

Harry sighed soundlessly.

"I slept."

"Clearly."

He at least had the decency to look guilty, mumbling something Draco couldn't quite read on his lips.

"Enunciate." He mouthed slowly, earning a glare from those thick-lashed eyes.

"He likes you better."

Draco smirked, trying to mask the warmth the words brought him. Ever since they had started dating, Harry had made it clear that Edward was an integral part of his life, it could hardly be any different when he lived with Andromeda in the old Black House to help take care of the young boy.

"A clever lad." Draco made sure to enunciate the words as patronisingly slow as possible, succeeding in causing Harry to pout adorably.

Edward chose that moment to adjust his position, kneeing him on the ribs, and Draco winced, struggling not to keep silent while his little brat of a boyfriend smiled, vindicated.

"I should move and leave you to deal with him," he threatened emptily. "I did not sign up for this."

Harry wasn't moved in the slightest, his lovely crooked teeth showing as those full dark lips parted in a grin.

"Shouldn't have smiled at me then, git." He whispered, having finally managed the finite incantatem, causing Edward to whine lightly in warning.

Draco would either kill the bastard or marry him, but that was a decision better left for another night.

[roseofithaca]

The Tribe (Part 1)

Elysabeth (my oc) missing her friend after she's moved on. Set somewhat in @idiotwithanipad 's Ascended!verse.

-

The comforting scent of salt water greets her as she wakes, stretching her arms out beneath the thick duvet, the mattress barely rocking. They must be on smoother waters than when she went to sleep. Most of the furniture in her cabin is nailed down to stop it tossing about when they're caught in a rare storm.

Reaching out her hand, she tugs the curtain aside to see a clear blue sky with barely any clouds, the Infinite Ocean stretching out to the horizon. She smiles as she settles back on her pillow. She'd never got to visit a beach in life, or her first afterlife. Now it's become her main home and dry land is the novelty.

A set of beefy knuckles tap against the door a few minutes later.

"Rise and shine, Starfish! Need my first mate up on the deck before I can break my fast!" William's jovial voice booms through the door.

A sulky moan is her reply. One downside of choosing to remain a teenager, she would forever prefer to lie in when given the option. But her stomach betrays her and William only ever brings her breakfast in bed on Sundays.

He would probably do it every day if she asked, but he knows she always feels better once she's up and about, eager to help where she can on the ship.

Despite her 'rank', her cabin is as large as the Captain's, and one would assume belonged to a travelling royal considering all the treasure decorating the shelves. Worlds apart from the straw mattress bed in the corner of her parents' cottage where she was born.

Her wardrobe is filled with dresses and outfits from hundreds of eras and cultures, but mostly she sticks to the style she grew up in, though often modified to suit a sailors work. The first time she'd worn ladies' trousers instead of a dress had taken a lot of getting used to.

Once she's picked out an outfit and rebraided her hair, she skips up the steps to the top deck, already feeling awakened by the smell of fried eggs.

William usually cooks breakfast while Elysabeth handles lunch, the two of them working together for dinner unless one is needed at the helm. Though the ship is the size of a small but wealthy home, there's rarely any other crew besides the two of them. Sometimes Godric and his family will come aboard for a trip. On a few occasions they managed to drag poor Clarence on, only for the poor old guy to get seasick. But mostly it was just the two of them. Which was more than enough, William had over half a century to modify the ship to only need one person at the controls, and another just to make sure they didn't fall overboard.

William's eyes are sparkling with mischief as Lyssie steps out into the sunshine.

"Better get here quick, lass, before I snatch all the best hashbrowns for meself!" He winks, already sat at the table.

"I dare thee to try!" She giggles, rushing to pull out her chair and pick at the delicious food laid out to spoon onto her plate.

Excited bird calls squawk above them. Seagulls.

"Ah! Land must be in sight. Better fill your stomach, Starfish, need you to help me raise the sails to catch that easterly wind to take us into port." William nods, mopping some egg yoke from his beard.

"Thou does only wish to be rid of me so ye can pinch that last tomato!" She accuses with a wriggle of her nose.

"Ha! Cheeky wench, ye see right through me."

-

At first, she believes she fainted. Could spirits faint? She can't recall it happening before, but surely if one was in great shock it were possible.

They'd been playing hide and seek for the umpteenth time. It had become a tad more interesting since the fancy men built the big house. So many rooms and corridors and crawl spaces to huddle away in. Far more interesting than the woods they'd played in for nearly eight hundred years.

She remembers him finding her in the safe. His paws had been on her waist, fingers squirming into her sides in victory. She'd laughed. She'd pushed him away, little hands pressing against those furry pelts until...

A light. Brighter than the sun.

And singing.

"Rogh? Rogh, what be happening, I....?"

Her hands reached out again for his furs, his hands, or even his beard, only to grasp at thin air.

Blink. Blink again.

The light starts to fade, the chorus of cherabum drifting away with the warm breeze that caresses her cheeks.

Warm. She feels the warmth.

More blinks as the world becomes clear around her. Gone is the dark safe littered with cobwebs and objects buried beneath layers of dust. She's now stood in the middle of a vast field of tall grass. It tickles up against her feet. She gasps. Passing her hand downward, her fingers stroke the tips of the soft, emerald blades.

It's real. More than any dream she's had before. The first thing she's touched other than one of her fellow Deadies in eight centuries.

Looking up, she quickly realises the landscape around her is no longer that of Bone Hall estate. Great hills of rock capped with snow glisten on the horizon. Mountains? She's never seen a mountain outside of paintings. To her west is a rolling forest of towering trees the likes of which dwarf those in the woods she's known as home for so long. Where is she? And where is-?

"Ha! Finally decided to join us, ey Lys?"

She hasn't heard that voice in almost fifty years. Her heart skips a beat as she turns around.

Godric. Clarence.

There they are, the two fools, stood less than twenty feet away, grinning at her fondly. She has to blink again, mouth open as the shock keeps her in its grip. Their clothes are different...Not just a change of outfits, but Godric no longer has a great chunk of wood impaled in his sides. And Clarence looks....dry?

"Careful, pet. You'll be catching flies on your tongue if your mouth stays open like that." Chuckles the old friar, hands clasped around his belly.

A laugh of joy escapes her. And then she's running forward.

It takes three steps before she notices. Glancing down, she pulls up the skirt of her dress.

"Ah, the Lord has worked his miracle already for you!"

"Suits you better than that bone on show." Godric comments.

There it is. Her leg, healthy and whole, stocking included. She feels it to make sure and then stretches it out. Giggling, she jumps.

"I been healed! I been healed!" She exclaims and springs forward into Godric's waiting arms, letting him swing her around.

When the hugs and laughter and testing to make sure the skin wasn't about to peel off her limb again are all done, Elysabeth catches her breath, taking another look out at the beautiful land around them.

"Be it true? Is this Heaven? Clarence?" She looks to the old priest.

He smiles, shrugging with his palms facing upwards.

"I'd say it's as close as we could imagine, judging by what I've seen since I left thee all. Though I have yet to meet my Lord face to face as I woulds have desired, the land and all the wonders I have glimpsed are truly divine. There be no sickness or disease here, child. No war or injustice. Take a breath in, dear Elysabeth? Does it not fill thy lungs with a sense of Peace?"

Normally, she would roll her eyes at the old man's flowery language, but this time she indulges him. One deep breath and she feels as if her body could happily float up to lounge on the wind. The scent of lavender and chamomile wafts against her nose.

Godric's hand claps down on her back.

"And if that all gets a bit too sugary for ye, there be plenty of excitement to be found, Lys! Trust me. I haven't had a day go by since I arrived where I has been bored."

It's almost too perfect. Too good to be true.

And it's when she turns to search for the face of who she knows would be most thrilled to be here, in this paradise, that the dream is smashed.

Elysabeth frowns; "....Rogh. He didn't...?"

The faces of the two older men fall at the same time.

"No, love. Rogh and Will remain back at the house. Heaven seems to only allow one through the gate at a time." He gives Clarence a funny look, as if he - or rather his God - were to blame for setting up those rules.

Lyssie gulps, reaching to stroke her cross necklace. Though she hadn't prayed in many years, she found herself desperately pleading that they were okay.

"He...He'd been right there with me. We'd been playing and..." Her lip wobbled as she recalled his hands catching her. How she'd playfully shoved him away...

Clarence sighs; "Ah, well, that be a blessing for him, I'm sure! He got to see thou leave with his own two eyes."

"Yeah, no doubt if ye had simply gone up without either of them seein', they'd have both made themselves sick with worry." Godric agrees; "I bet they're both chuffed to bits that ye got to pass on to us at last, Lys."

Another blink, this time to fight back a brief spell of tears. Then she nods, forcing a smile.

Yes. Of course, Rogh would be happy for her. He's always happy when one of his friends goes 'whoosh' as he says. Both him and William are probably roaring with cheerful laughter. They've probably picked out a star for her as they did for Godric and Clarence. Is it night time there now? Does time work the same? It's mid day here but...what if the sun never sets in Heaven?

"Ey. Come on, love. I'd like you to come meet my Becca proper. And my little'ens." Godric offers, holding out his hand to her.

Little'ens? All of Godric and Rebecca's children were stillborn. Seven of them. They're all here? Alive, so to speak? No wonder his eyes shine brighter than before.

She lets that distract her. For now.

-

Home is whatever you wish to make of it here, that's what she was taught after seeing the house which Godric claimed to have built with his own two hands. A charming country house with a room each of his kids as well as him and Becca. Not quite a mansion but far bigger than their little hovel back when the village still stood.

The inside, however, is a constant chaos of children ranging from toddlers to adolescents bustling from room to room, while Godric's wife kneads her freshly baked loaves in the kitchen. The demons which had taken her mind and led to her taking her own life seem to have been long defeated, her face is glowing with the return of her husband and children. She greets Lyssie with a proper motherly hug, as if it's not their first time meeting.

"Thou is more than welcome to stay here!" She tells Lyssie after making her some warm jam on toast, the thirteen year old swooning with each bite as she sits at the table. Her first meal in hundreds of years. "Ye been as much a daughter to my Godric as our own girls."

"Of course, if ye wish to see your own kin, I can help thee find them too? It's up to you, Lys." Godric reassures her.

She thinks of her parents. Strict. Cold. Taught her the basics to survive and provided what they could for her to make it to three and ten. She had little memory of her mother outside of lashes with a birch twig to her knees, and her father snapping at her to tie the fences tighter.

Add to that the fact that it had been Godric and Clarence who had greeted her here, it felt as though whoever was in charge of this place wanted her to know who her real family was.

A little bashful, she asks if she can stay.

Godric offers to build her her own room but she insists there's no rush. One of his daughter's is kind enough to share hers, and there's enough room so that all Godric need build her is a bed.

He crafts it within a couple of hours, Becca stitching together pelts for a bedsheet and swan down pillows in the same time. It seemed that anyone someone desired could be granted here, if also willing to add their own effort putting it together.

That night, her first night in this strange new land, Elysabeth couldn't sleep. She stared up at the ceiling, in this house full of love and people and natural warmth. Her hand smoothed across the pelts. Soft. Fluffy.

Her heart ached as she gripped them firmly.

Rogh. Her heart ached for Rogh.

Not that she didn't miss William too. His wild stories, his jokes, his roaring laughter. Even with Godric's large family around her, life still felt quieter without the pirate around.

But Rogh? Rogh was special. Rogh was...had been everything to her since the day she died. As soon as she'd been saved from the dead beasts of the land by the feral, mad but good-hearted savage, their souls had been entangled from that moment on. She'd always slept close to his side, no matter where the two of them had been forced to find a place to settle as each home was torn down. After all those years, it felt impossible to sleep without his paw around her, without the sound of his gruff light snores, his warm breath on her neck.

Did he feel the same? Was he struggling to rest without her in his arms? Was he enjoying the space? It wasn't something she'd demanded remained the same, merely an act of habit that none had been eager to finish, even when they found themselves in a house with multiple rooms.

It just made sense for them to stay together. Rogh made Elysabeth feel safe. Protected. And it was better for Rogh that Lys was as close as possible in case his nightmares returned and she needed to sooth him.

Satan's beard. His nightmares.

What if they come back worse now? Will William know how to comfort him? The pirate is great for japes and games, but succour? Her heart beats fast in fear for her dear companion.

Fingers curl tight in the pelts.

She shouldn't have pushed him away. Their last physical interaction. He'd grabbed her. He'd won the game. And she'd pushed him off when she should have clung to him like a lifeline.

Mayhaps then he'd be here with her now.

.

"I wish to go back."

Clarence's face pales; "Go back?"

"Back...down there's." She gestures, tilting her head; "Back home to the big house. To Rogh and William."

They sit together in the front pew of the chapel that Clarence has built himself since he arrived. Nothing too ornate, but a house of worship with more insulation and comforts than any humble church found in the Living world. Lyssie still considered herself a doubter of Christ but this was a comforting place just to come and sit when the luxuries of Heaven became....overwhelming.

The friar looks up at Godric who stands behind her, his arms crossed.

"Don't look at me. Assumed if there were a way, thou wouldst know." He shrugs.

"I told thee both before, I have as many questions left unclear about all this as I did before. There be no angels or saints or the Lord to speak with." The old man sighs, not surprised that the others don't listen to him. "But that be besides the point."

He reaches out to hold Lyssie's hands.

"Why in God's name would ye wish to return there, dear child?"

She cringed. How could they not get it? How did they find it so easy to just...move on?

Godric joins them, sitting on her other side.

"Are ye not happy with me and Becca?" He asks with tender concern.

"No! I means, yes, I..." She corrects herself, gritting her teeth, "Thou has both been evers so kind to me. Becca is as close to a mum I mights ever get to meet. But...this all be wrong. Don't ye both see? We lefts our friends behind!"

The two men share a look. Godric pats her braids.

"Thou is missing Rogh and William still? 'Should have said, Lys, love."

"T'is not merely missing them, Godric! I feel that...there be a mistake. Why do all the joys and comforts of Heaven bore me so? Why can my heart only thinks of them, less I was still 'sposed to be there?" She asks, a touch of desperation after too many sleepless nights.

Clarance smiles at her; "Dear one, t'is natural to be homesick. For all its faults, that land were our home for hundreds of years, and we crafted many a pleasant memory."

"'Ere, remember the time Rogh trained them swans to chase old Clarence back into the lake?" Godric whispered, poking Elysabeth's sides and making her giggle a bit.

The friar shot him a glare; "That not be quite what I mean, Godric, but thanks." He gave his short grey beard a stroke; "Perhaps it might do thee well to see our old friends? Would that bring thee some peace?"

Lyssie's eyes widened.

"I...I can sees them?!" She gasps, jumping to her feet, "Why dids either of thee not tell me before?"

"T'is advised that newcomers be given time to adjust to the hereafter first, or else their hearts will be too focused on what was left behind." The priest explains; "But it may be the opposite is true for thee."

The two men then guide Lyssie out of the chapel and a short walk through the nearby forest. These woods are vastly different to the ones back in England. No dark and gloomy shadows. No spectres of wolves or bears or unseen dangers. Tiny fae lights weave through the branches, giving everything a warm glow beneath the thick canapé. Foxes and rabbits and deer mill about in harmony, the conflict of predator and prey all but forgotten.

They follow the sparkling, clear stream until it reaches a hidden pond next to a waterfall. Lyssie feels a sense of awe at the sight and understands why Clarence removes his shoes as soon as they leave the trees. Is obviously holy ground of some sorts.

Both her and Godric feel obliged to do the same. Clarance wades into the water, towards the gentle falls, his soon damp robes reminding her of his past form.

"Come, child. T'is quite mild." He beckons her in.

Godric gives her an encouraging pat on the back, a look as if to say he's done this before.

She follows the friar into the water, standing with the water nearly up to her chest as she holds his hand. They face the waterfall and Clarance chants something in Latin. Some sort of prayer.

And then, almost immediately, something catches her eye.

"Rogh? Rogh!"

He's there. In the water. Him and William, walking together, laughing.

She can hardly believe it. They're right there. She lets go of Clarance's hand and rushes towards them.

"Careful- ooh." Godric tries to warn, to no avail.

Lyssie all but smashes her nose on the rocks.

"Ow! What in the devil's name-?!"

"T'is only a window, child." Clarance explains, gently tugging her back and seeing to her face, "A one way glance to the land before so we may check in on those left behind."

Her heart falls; "They...cannots see or hear us?"

Faintly, she could hear them. William telling a story about an Arabian spy posing as a barmaid on a land he visited, Rogh hanging off his every word.

"Rogh? Will? I be right here! T'is Lyssie! Can thee hear?" She calls, but they do not so much as turn their heads.

"Sorry, child. But doth thou see now? All still be well. Our friends smile and laugh. There be no need for thee to fret." Clarence tries to comfort.

A weight appears in her chest. This should be enough, she knows. She can see her friends. She can see that Rogh has not fallen into despair without her. Why is it not enough to sooth the pain in her heart?

And why was it so easy for Godric and Clarence? Was it because they had something here? Godric his wife and brood, Clarance his faith and community of Christians nearby?

What did she have here? No family who cared to seek her out. No friends save the two men with her, Becca and a few of the children she'd come to know. It wasn't enough. Even being able to walk and run freely again did not have her feeling complete as she'd once thought it would.

She needs to sit at William's feet and listen to more of his tales. She needs to play Hide and Seek with them both, or attempt to haunt some Livings. She needs to ride on Rogh's shoulders, feel him close again.

She needs to go home.

-

They now think it was a mistake to show her the waterfall.

It's all too easy to sit there for hours on end, gazing at the 'screen' of liquid, watching her old friends go about their day. She would give her damn leg back if the sacrifice were enough to return her to them.

The skies grow dark when they try to drag her away, as if her mood were strong enough to affect the weather itself. The clear, serene ever-present Spring becomes tainted by a tempestuous rising storm if they vex her by forcing her to leave. There be nothing else she desires in this so-called paradise.

Godric, Clarance and even Becca visit her often, bringing her food and blankets and gentle words, trying to persuade her to step away. Just to take a break. Joining them for dinner or a picnic or a visit to some of the other residents around.

No. Leave her alone. Please.

She hugs her knees to her chest, the shallow water up below her shoulders. Just one more of William's stories, she tells herself, her eyelids feeling heavy. There's no danger of her drowning if she falls asleep, surely.

Her chin drops to her chest.

A choir of heavenly voices ring out, the clouds above shining like spun gold.

She lifts her head.

Could it be...? Was that...?

She ran straight to Clarence, needing for him to confirm what she thought she heard meant what she thought. His old grey face lights up with almost childlike glee.

He tells her to fetch Godric.

An hour later, they travel on Godric's carriage across the familiar field, Lyssie having the privilege to ride on the horse. Her heart is pounding. Can't they go faster? Why couldn't Pegasi exist in Heaven?!

The clouds continue to shimmer. The singing fades.

In the distance, more than a large black dot, she sees someone standing up in the grass.

She runs.

Black curls whip around as William turns to see her approach. The brief confusion on his face quickly shifts into bombastic joy.

"Haha! Starfish, be that you? C'mere, you little wench, ha!"

Tears tumble down her cheeks as William lifts her off her feet and nearly crushes her in the biggest hug ever. No more blade in his chest to stop them embracing as tight as they'd like. Soon, Godric and Clarence have caught up, William yanking both of them into the group hug.

The grief and yearning is forgotten about, just for a brief reprise, as she's held in the arms of these daft men who became her family. Except...

She pulls back, blinking up at him.

"W-what about Rogh? He's not still...?"

She glances around. Yes, they said only one at a time, but she could hope that....Just this once...

Godric claps a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't look like he came with, love." He says, sorrowful.

Even William let's out a disappointed sigh; "The old sea dog stayed behind? Oh, rusted barnacles, that be a great shame. Still, I dids leave him laughing ever so hard as them angels took me up!"

Lyssie stares at him.

"Has there been anyone new died yet?"

William closes his gob and shakes his head.

"Afraid not, Starfish. It been only the two of us since ye left and broke our manly hearts, ye did." He tries to add a touch of levity, nudging her teasingly; "There be Godric's lot in the basement but they refuse to set foot above, and ye know our dear wild man can't be contained in the dirt."

Heat rises in her cheeks. Irrational anger explodes from her as she rushes forward, beating her fists against his belly.

"THOU LEFT HIM ALONE?! HOW DARE THEE! HOW DARE THEE!"

"Lys, stop!" Godric drags her off, her limbs flailing like a toddler having a tantrum.

William's face sinks with guilt.

"Lyssie, dearest, ye know I woulds never-."

"None of thee understand! Ye weren't there with us all those years, ye don't know him as I do!" She all but wails; "He were alone for all that time and it broke him to pieces! He cannots be abandoned again, nots by us!"

They call her name as she runs back across the field, back to the waterfall. Back to her Rogh...

[kitty384]

Sink Duty

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x Teen!Reader (Found Family | Platonic | Soft Dad!Stucky)

Summary: You were just trying to help with the dishes. You didn’t expect Bucky to lift you into the sink—or Steve to scold him while trying not to smile. But honestly? It felt like one of the best nights of your life.

Warnings: None! Just soft fluff, kitchen chaos, and found family warmth. Minor teasing, physical affection, protective dad energy, and safe silliness.

I didn’t mean to become part of dish duty.

It just sort of… happened.

We’d finished dinner—Bucky made pasta, Steve made the sauce, and I stirred something that may or may not have been edible, but they told me it was perfect anyway—and we were all still hovering in the kitchen, full and happy in that cozy post-meal kind of way.

Steve started rinsing the plates. Bucky was loading the dishwasher. I leaned against the counter sipping juice from a chipped mug I’d claimed as mine weeks ago.

And then Bucky turned around, narrowed his eyes at the pile of sudsy bowls, and looked right at me.

“You wanna help?”

I blinked. “I mean… yeah. But I don’t really know how.”

His grin turned mischievous. “Then it’s time you learned.”

“Bucky,” Steve warned, without even turning around. “Don’t you—”

Too late.

Bucky leaned down, wrapped his arm around my waist, and with absolutely no hesitation—

lifted me into the sink.

“Bucky!”

“I dried it first,” he said, laughing as he set me gently into the deep metal basin. “It’s warm! And safe! She’s fine.”

I stared down at my feet, now hovering a few inches off the floor in a pool of soapy water.

My legs were tangled with silverware.

My hands were half-submerged in a bowl I hadn’t seen coming.

Steve turned, dish towel in hand, and gave him the look.

“You can’t put her in the sink!”

“She said she wanted to help.”

“There’s a difference between handing her a sponge and turning her into a kitchen gnome!”

I couldn’t help it.

I laughed.

Actually laughed.

Because Steve looked scandalized and exasperated and amused all at once, and Bucky looked so proud of himself, and for a moment it didn’t matter that I’d never done dishes like this before or that my knees were probably going to cramp.

All that mattered was that they were here.

And they were mine.

Steve walked over and wiped some bubbles off my cheek with a gentle thumb.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

I nodded, still giggling. “I think I’m in too deep now.”

Bucky snorted. “Pun absolutely intended.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “If you encourage her, I swear—”

I flicked a bubble at him.

He gasped like I’d just betrayed the nation.

“You are out of control.”

“She’s got the Rogers sarcasm,” Bucky said proudly, leaning back against the counter like this had all gone exactly to plan.

“More like the Barnes chaos.”

“I contain my chaos, thank you very much.”

I dunked a sponge in the water and handed it to Steve with both hands.

He blinked at me.

“You want me to clean while you supervise?”

I nodded solemnly. “Sink gnome rules.”

Bucky nearly choked on his laughter.

Steve gave me another look, then tossed the towel over his shoulder and took the sponge anyway.

“That’s it,” he muttered. “I’m outnumbered.”

We stayed in the kitchen like that for a while—Steve rinsing, Bucky drying, me sitting in the sink occasionally splashing them both when they weren’t looking. The room felt alive. Lit with warm light and warmer laughter. Like the walls themselves were soaking up the sound of home.

They didn’t treat me like I was fragile.

They didn’t hover when I laughed too hard or froze up too fast.

They just… let me be here.

In the mess.

In the joy.

And I wasn’t scared to take up space.

Not anymore.

Eventually, the water got cold.

My hands were wrinkled.

My hair was damp from one too many flicked bubbles.

Steve reached out, wrapping a warm towel around my shoulders like I’d just come in from a storm.

“Alright, gnome,” he said, gently lifting me down with both hands. “Out of the sink. Before Bucky starts trying to teach you how to mop with your socks.”

“I think she could do it,” Bucky said, already reaching for the mop with a grin.

“Don’t encourage her.”

“Too late.”

When my feet touched the floor again, I didn’t expect the way it hit me.

That ache in my chest.

That soft, full feeling I only got with them.

Because I’d spent years being told I wasn’t part of anything.

That I was too broken.

Too dangerous.

Too wrong.

And now I was standing in a kitchen wrapped in a towel, dripping soap onto the floor while Steve Rogers wiped my cheek and Bucky Barnes offered me dessert because “I earned it.”

I was part of something.

I was part of them.

I sat on the counter while Bucky served ice cream into mismatched mugs.

Steve leaned against the fridge beside me.

His arm bumped mine.

I didn’t flinch.

Instead—I leaned back.

Just a little.

But he noticed.

And smiled.

“Thanks for helping with the dishes,” he said.

“Thanks for letting me.”

“You know you don’t have to do anything to be part of this, right?”

I looked down into my mug of ice cream.

Then back at him.

“I know. I just wanted to.”

Bucky placed a spoon into my hand and tapped my nose with the handle.

“And that’s why we’re keeping you.”

Masterlist

Request

[who-scrambled-my-ocs]

If Lucas could've adopted Baby Bim (by normal or by evil-parent-eating means), what would raising an infant look like for him and Bruno?

Part one

He’d been Hunting

He’d been stalking the duo

The Intent, the Magic, the Cruelty in their gazes

It had sung to him

-

They’d been hunting too

A group of friends, a group of laughter, careless joy and harmless fun

A sheer feeling of innocent invincibility

They had been Hunting

The Magic in their hands, on their lips and in their shadows

Encircling and ensnaring and exploiting

It had Reeked

-

He’d had them

His Magic seeping through his veins

The excitement, the Hunger

He’d had them dancing at his fingertips, so close-

He’d

Stalled

Something had hiccuped behind him

Past the path they’d ran from him

He almost had them

.

.

.

He hadn’t noticed them hold a carrier

.

.

.

It laid on the side of the alley he’d ambushed them in, in the middle of their hunt, haphazardly tossed, almost overturned really

.

.

.

Brown tear filled eyes stared frozen at his sea-green ones, cheeks streaked but silent, merely hiccuping as quiet as possible

.

.

.

They’d ran

Without it

—————————————-

“Caro you cannot be serious” Bruno is walking wide eyed after Lucas as he pushes the stroller- it was new, when had he even found time to buy one already- further inside their house while still stubbornly rocking it, refusing to look his husband in the eye-

Bruno grabs his hand, forcing him gently but firmly to stop, to please listen “This is not- you brought in a child!”

“Caro keep it down, they’re sleeping”

“The bambino, Lucas- Caro it’s Human!” He almost hisses in his exasperated whisper, pouring everything in those words, everything they knew as Lucas keeps silently rocking the stroller

“We’re old” he says finally, a huff almost to it “We’ve gone past our retirement ages ago Bruno. It-it won’t be as long, we don’t have to worry like when we were young, we wouldn’t even be separated by decades, even if we live longer” Lucas says quietly, uncertainty caught in his voice despite his steadfast stance, eyes flitting back to the stroller he was rocking gently and away from his husband

Bruno sighs heavily, but there’s a sort of resignation in it despite himself as he glances at the bundle in the stroller, something fond already in his smile as he sees the baby was actually awake

The baby gurgles and babbles silently to itself as it raises a little fist up, making baby grabby hands and lightly kicking a leg as it held a new baby ring in its other hand, silently entertaining itself all on its own, all curious expressions and deep concentration

It looks up and suddenly freezes as it catches Bruno’s eyes, looking like a deer caught in the headlights at the sudden attention it was being given, eyes so very wide they were practically sparkling in the light, and Bruno chuckles softly as he reaches out a hand towards the baby

“Ciao, Stellina~”

—————————————

“Uhm, shee doll? Shee, you can play with her”

Lucas pauses in the hallway with a smile, laundry basket resting on his hip with one hand as he listens in to his Stella’s attempts at words

He’d already grasped several vowels and consonants so rapidly fast Lucas had almost felt jealous, remembering his own struggles at learning the human tongue

He silences his laugh at the memories, listening in with an amused and fond smile-

“No, papá sh-aid, sh-aid no magic alone”

His smile drops to an alarmed frown immediately, snapping his fingers and letting the shadows carry away their laundry as he walked closer to the bedroom beside his own

“Papá sh-ays magic can-can give euhm, boo-boo”

“Stella? Who are you talking to amarino?” He asks softly, his eyes scanning the room sharply as he walks in with one hand still on the doorknob

He sees nothing. Nothing but a kid with a curly mop of hair, bright rosy cheeks and beautiful brown eyes staring up at him with a finger by his face

There’s two cups of pretend tea placed on the floor, accompanied by two plates with two real cookies on each, on a little purple blanket on the floor strewn with toys

One plate is in front of him, the other across from him halfway in the shadows of a corner

His cookie lies untouched

The second cookie had a bite out of it

A hand gestures at the corner before Lucas can react, a frown above a mouth trying out his words

“Nona!”

Lucas frowns “Nona? Mio caro?” He asks, stepping a lot closer and swooping his heart up in his arms, scanning the shadows intently but seeing nothing “Do you have a friend, mia stella?”

“Nona” He simply repeats in Lucas’s arms, fiddling with the doll still in his hands “She likes cookie”

“Does she now?” Lucas asks softly, trying to hide the tenseness in his shoulders as he looked around

It hadn’t been the first time

Imaginary friend? Or something more

He pushes it away for now, smiling instead “How about we ask babbo to make many cookies with you then huh? Some pignoli-“

“Yesh! Yesh yesh!” Arms raised up in cheer before Lucas could even finish, and he laughs, booping his little nose

“We’ll make the best pignoli in the world-“ He freezes

It had been a single second

A single blink, forgettably easy to miss

But

He stares back in the room, eyes scanning again

He’d felt a brush of something-

“Papá?” Wide eyes are looking up at him, concern starting to seep in despite Lucas’s attempts to hide it

Focus

“Sorry stella, I thought I heard something” he simply smiles, kissing the little bundle’s forehead “Let’s go make those cookies huh?”

And perhaps get some scrolls ready from the basement

—————————————

“Stella! We need to leave!”

“Coming Nonno!” A rush of feet over the staircase, a yelp, and a tut of someone standing at the end of the staircase watching a little boy being carried by shadows safely down

“Bim, no running down the stairs, we’ve told you it’s dangerous”

“But papá-“

“No no, none of that. We’ll talk about it later again, now let’s tie your shoes-“

“I already did it!”

“What? Lemme see” Lucas reaches down to check and sure enough, they were two neat bunny ears on each shoe, snuggly and securely fit

Lucas raises a brow

“Did Nona do them for you?” He asks with a wry smile, biting back a chuckle as his kid bristled before him

“Nuhuh! No I did it! All by myself! I’m not a little baby anymore!” The stomp with his huff is adorable and Lucas can’t help the small laugh that escapes him, snickering at the pout it gets him

“I’m sorry Stella, you simply surprised me. You’re learning so fast I can’t keep up” he says amused, ruffling their curls as he’s greeted with a smug yet beaming smile “How about we go show babbo how well you did?”

“Yes! Babbo! Babbo look at my shoes!”

“No running-! Oh dear” Lucas chuckles, smiling fond as all the blobs in the house resumed chase after the bundle of energy, ready to catch his every trip and every stumble, allowing no serious harm

He could hardly protect him from every bump

But oh did he try

—————————————

“Why did you name me Bim actually? You-you chose the name Lucas for yourself papá, and that’s Italian just-just like you, babbo!”

“That’s because we found your name on your person stellina” Bruno says gently, both him and Lucas sharing a quick, furtive surprised glance at each, having not expected the question

Well, not now atleast

“And?”

“And?”

Brown eyes roll so hard it’s a wonder they didn’t fall out from behind Bim’s glasses, making Bruno snort despite himself, and Lucas gently tut through an amused grin

“We cannot read your mind stellina”

“Uh yes you can”

“But I won’t” Lucas reiterates, smiling wry as Bim huffs a little, yet he eases on the teases as he sees the restless energy return fast

“What do you wanna know about your name stella?”

“Well, why did you choose it? Why didn’t you pick another one like-like euhm-“ he stalls a little, thinking his question through as his parents waited patiently

He sighs “Why didn’t you choose one like yours babbo? Or like yours papá?”

“Do you mean, an Italian one?”

“Yeah”

Lucas and Bruno smile at each other, before Bruno pats the seat next to him, half hugging Bim as he took a deep breath

“Well, we tried to at first. In fact, we didn’t even know your name yet. But you didn’t like any name we gave you”

“Huh?”

“Yes” Bruno chuckles with a nod “We tried a few names, just a little to see if we all felt a connection to it. But, when we found your name on your old blankie in a little corner and called you your name, your face lit up” Bruno gestures with another chuckle “You gave one of your first giggles” he grins, gently poking Bim’s side as he tries to dodge and suppress his giggles, pushing at Bruno’s hands

“That’s not real!”

“I assure you we’re being completely honest” Lucas chuckles, pushing aside the paper he’d been reading “You’d already decided what your name was, it didn’t matter what anyone else thought about it! You, already knew” he grins, giving a slight tap on Bim’s chest with a smile

Bim looks down at his hands as Bruno and Lucas share another look, and Lucas gently takes his hand in his

“Do you like your name, stella?” He asks softly, watching Bim shrug

“I guess” he says, that lingering uncertainty still hanging in the air, of why his name wasn’t same as theirs

Why he wasn’t part of their connection

Lucas gently pats his hand “Bim. You are our son. Nostro figlio. No name, blood, or any magic will ever change that. Even if you wish to find and bond with your birth parents, or your birth family, you will always be in our hearts, and always be home here” he says softly

“We will have your pignoli, and your cristallo, and your abito viola-“

“Babbo”

Bruno chuckles softly, half hugging him as Bim huffs a bit in embarrassment

Oh the time when he’d proudly shown all his favorite stuff off without a hint of awareness

Time had flown

“Our point is, you are family to us, no matter what stellina”

“And” Lucas adds on to Bruno’s words, smiling soft as Bim looks up “You may choose any name you like, whenever you like, just like I did. Just like you did” he says softly, gently holding Bim’s shoulder, letting the words sink in

No matter what

He was their bambino

He was their stella