#and got myself cookies which is a must

[mxxnlightwriting]

So... because I finished going over my editor notes for my upcoming release, I've decided to give myself an early Christmas present and that means I bought Stardew Valley after thinking about doing it for the past 4 years.

Now... should I play it or should I continue working on getting this blog organised? I won't write today because I've been feeling pretty miserable with my writing (I'm just tired, that's why) so I plan on having a relaxing evening!

[ramadoodles]

Ten quick tips when packing for your new life:

If you have trouble making a list of things to pack, ask an AI to make it for you. It's by no means going to be accurate, but if you have starting trouble like I do, It'll probably be a good first step.

If you've got a weight limit for luggage, try to separate between what you must carry with you (things you need to use on Day 1, unique/expensive items) and things you can buy on site (cheap stuff, stuff you can get at the convenience store on Day 2)

Plan out a capsule wardrobe. It's easy- just pick out a few colours and silhouettes which you're going to stick to for a few months, and ruthlessly cut out everything else from your closet. This way, even if you pull out something random from your closet, you'll mostly look presentable. My thumb rule is to cut clothes from my closet if they're not going with 5 other pieces of clothing.

Pack jewelry in pill organizers, pack mini capsules of clothes with each other (e.g. work clothes go together) and pack the documents flat against each other, with a hard book as backing.

Little pouches of items (like socks and scarves) can be fit inside your shoes and bags. It helps them keep their shape, just please clean your shoes before you attempt this lol

Keep single sets of what you need on Day 1 (clothes and toiletry such as soap strips) in a carry-on bag which you keep on your body. It doesn't matter if you're travelling by bus or train, luggage gets lost and it's better to be safe than sorry.

Pack a (decently large) hand-held mirror in your carry-on. You'll think you won't need it/your phone camera is enough, but a mirror won't distort your face the way a front-facing lens does. Trust me, it makes a difference.

Don't obsess over packing perfectly- set a timer for 30 minutes or however long you think you'll need, and then when the timer's rang, put the task down. This one's more for me because I get too absorbed in specific tasks sometimes.

Mentally walk yourself through your first week of your new life. What's it going to look like? What do you need to make it work? Toss all those items in the bag, and any item used on Day 1 goes in the carry-on bag.

Hand everything you've done over to a friend (or your mom) and watch them ruthlessly critique everything you did. But you'll be all the better for it.

[srjlvr]

SEVEN ROYALTIES

7 brothers. 7 new kings. 7 new thrones. 7 love stories.

note. im a bit early to do this, but we’re getting closer to 1.5k followers so i decided to drop it! i cant believe i am able to reach this amount of followers honestly! this is a special series to show you how thankful i am. i wouldn’t be here without y’all.

THE seven brothers of hybe’s kingdom will be getting each a new throne and kingdom of their own to rule, and each one gets a love story of his own too.

GENREs will be included in each member’s story and so are the WARNINGS and WORD-COUNTS.

TAG-LIST ; i’ll consider this tag-list to all members, send me an ask or comment on this post if you’d like to join.

PERM TAG-LIST ; @sungwhoonz , @ohdudehesflirting

lee heeseung x fem!reader genre: strangers to lovers , commoner and a royal , fluff , angst ! warnings: loads of curse words.

you always knew your short temper will be a disadvantage, but you never thought that moment will happen when it came to a royal blood.

“watch where you’re going!” you yelled at the person who just bumped into you, “my apologies madam, perhaps i can offer you some sweet cookies as an apology?” he smiled.

you laughed at the nickname and the cute offer, “people don’t offer here cookies just because they want to apologize, are you new in town?”

he then shook his head, “you keep your things to yourself if you don’t want people to keep asking you for favors”

you ran before the person could even reply, “didn’t she realize who is she talking to?”

STATUS posted!

park jay x fem!reader genre: arranged marriage , one sided love at first , angst , fluff ! warnings: curse words , mentions of food (nothing serious, just dinner breakfast and all) , uhh dunno if it’s really a warning but just a rude behavior.

it’s been a few months since your huge wedding held in the castle, “i’ve married to you only because of the fact that i need to marry off to someone to get the throne” your newly husband groaned.

he’s been telling you the same sentence each time you remind him that you’re actually a married couple.

you’ve been taking care of him when he got sick, made him meals and even did most of the laundry, regardless of the fact that you have tons of servants.

jay has been ignoring you all day and all night ever since you first met, even ordered that you must have separated rooms.

but all it took for him to understand that he so longed for you, is to see you walk away. now, he’s determined to bring you back and love you all over again.

STATUS posted!

sim jake x fem!reader genre: strangers to lovers , fake relationship , he fell first but she fell harder , runaway royals , fluff , angst ! warnings: mentions of pregnancy(nothing serious i promise trust me) , mentions of food (not specifically, just meals).

your beauty is beyond compare, and you know that. your parents knows that too. which is why they’ve been forcing you to go on dates with filthy princes who wants nothing but to use you and your beauty as a trophy.

you hate that, being treated as an object in the eyes of other people. so you ran away. where? you didn’t know, but you packed your bag and left the house in the late late hours.

what you didn’t expect however, was to get caught by another runaway prince.

“who are you?” you suspiciously asked. “i’m sorry madam, let me introduce myself, i’m sim jake, hybe’s-“

“hybe’s prince” you gasped, “and you are?” he shrugged off the fact that you just cut him in the middle of the sentence.

“i’m l/n y/n—“ “the runaway princess?”

STATUS posted!

park sunghoon x fem!reader genre: childhood friends to enemies to lovers , one sided love somewhere into the story , heavy angst , fluff ! warnings: character’s death (not a main character) , curse words.

sunghoon has everything, wealth, power, a throne. but none of these matters when he can’t have you by his side.

“i hate you, park sunghoon” you spit out, nothing but hate is in your fierce glance at him. he just chuckled, “you don’t mean that”

“oh i do,” you nodded, “and i’m only doing it because i promised her it’ll happen”

“looking back at that promise, i realize why you used to believe that promises are stupid” you added.

“i’m sorry” he apologized, “sorry isn’t going to change anything, is it?”

STATUS posted!

kim sunoo x fem!reader genre: mistakenly falling in love , strangers to lovers , fluff , a bit of angst ! warnings: none atm.

the ballroom was full with young royals who are there the celebrate ni-ki’s birthday, the youngest out of the seven brothers.

it was a NO ADULTS party and therefore, the king and the queen ( aka the parents ) tried to describe him who is he going to marry. it was a pretty obvious force marriage.

“you’ll know it when you see her, she’s awfully pretty” they said.

“i’m l/n y/n” you introduced yourself with a curtsy, sunoo took your hand and kissed the back of it, “you look awfully pretty, y/n”

“oh! her name is minju!” right after the party, the queen and the king reminded sunoo that the girl he’s off to marry is named minju.

STATUS posted!

yang jungwon x fem!reader genre: childhood friends to lovers , promised to marry , fluff , angst ! warnings: mentions of food , pregnancy i think , maybe curse words (do lmk if i missed something!!)

you’ve known jungwon ever since you can remember. his castle is considered your second home and your castle is considered his second home.

you were pretty confident in your friendship, until you became teenagers and things started to fade away between you two.

he knows you’re promised to him, so why was he so unconfident about it when he saw you talking to other princes?

and you know he’s promised to you, so why do you feel like crying when he’s being introduced to other princesses as well?

STATUS posted!

nishimura riki x fem!reader genre: troublemakers falling in love , strangers to lovers , dumb and dumber relationship , fluff , angst ! warnings: none atm.

you were some kind of the black sheep in your family, always breaking rules and doing what you’re clearly not supposed to do. you love your freedom.

you heard about a prince who’s just exactly as you are, and you’re more than eager to meet him.

“are you…?” in one of your usual sneak outs, you bumped into a familiar face, “am i…?” he mocked.

“never mind” you shrugged, “i thought you were nishimura riki”

“i thought you’re l/n y/n” he chuckled, it was too dark for the both of you to see each other. “so who are you?” you asked, “nishimura riki, you?”

“l/n y/n”

STATUS coming soon!!

••• copyright © srjlvr all rights are reserved.

[demigodsanswer]

Percabeth + coffee shop au + holiday au?

The holiday part of this is a bit squint and you miss it. I meant for there to be more, but alas.

Percy had wanted to open up a bakery, but a coffee shop that sold pastries seemed more lucrative. In hindsight, he was glad he made that choice. He wasn't sure Annabeth ever would have stepped inside if he only sold apple turnovers and cupcakes.

She came in every morning, dressed like a young professional, her hair back in a ponytail usually, high heels sticking out of her purse, flat shoes on her feet. When she got in line, Percy knew to start making her soy latte extra shot before she even made it to the register. Sometimes he slipped one of their vegan brownies in too, on the house.

(He never asked if she was vegan or if soy milk was just a taste thing, but his ex was lactose intolerant. Last thing he wanted to do was ruin her day.)

"Thanks Percy," she said, grabbing her drink seconds after paying for it. He handed her the brownie, in a clear sleeve with their "vegan" sticker on it. She smiled and accepted it graciously. "You're a hero," she said.

"Don't worry about it," he promised.

So, maybe he had a thing for one of his patrons. It didn't matter that much. She was about his age (probably), and never yelled at his staff. Her seven dollar daily latte was keeping his lights on. And she was maybe the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

"Do you think I should add more vegan options?" He asked Grover. Grover was the lead barista and his business partner. He some how sourced fair trade coffee they could actually afford.

"It's better for the environment," was Grover's response.

"So, yes?" Percy asked.

"Give it a shot. Everyone loves a little vegan treat."

"No, you love a little vegan treat. Most people think they taste like sand," Percy said.

"That's an exaggeration. Your brownie is delicious. And I'm sure whatever you make, Annabeth will love it."

Percy bright red face ended that conversation. "I'm going to to hang the Christmas lights," he said, heading out into the cold without a jacket in the hopes that his face went back to normal.

~

Percy kept the coffee shop opened later than was maybe wise, but he worked most of the late shift hours by himself or with Meg, a high school kid working after school. They always got a few late afternoon coffee drinkers, and a couple of high school kids sitting to do homework.

Percy had to be there anyway. He was working on a few new vegan options. The holiday season was a good time to find out what people liked; they were more likely to treat themselves to something sweet.

He'd worked out a good vegan pumpkin pie, which they sold by the slice. That was a hit, although he was still working to get the crust perfect. The oatmeal cookie had been easy enough. The Nutella banana bread was actually so good that Annabeth ordered it the next morning. Percy made a note to keep it on the menu.

The holiday brought festive drinks too. He needed to compete with Starbucks, so he offered peppermint ... everything, caramel everything, and pumpkin everything. He was hanging a sign in the window advertising their peppermint mocha when he spotted a familiar face on the other side of the glass.

Annabeth smiled at him. It was six at night. They were only open for another hour. And she never stopped by after work. She must have come right from the office, because she still had her heels on.

The bell rang as she opened the door. "Are you still open?" She asked.

"Sure am," Percy confirmed. He would have said yes even if that wasn't true. "Soy latte?"

She shook her head. "No, no. Um, what about that --" she pointed towards the sign, "peppermint mocha?"

"You got it," Percy said, heading back behind the counter. "Soy?"

"Sure."

"I don't have a dairy-free whip cream," he said. He made a note to try and find one. Frank would like it.

"Regular is fine," she said. "I'll treat myself. Decaf though," Annabeth added.

"Are you vegan?" Percy asked as he brewed the espresso.

"I try but fail a lot. I'm pretty good at avoiding meat, but real dairy is just too good," Annabeth said.

"Easier to bake with too," Percy said. "For here or to go?" He had a to-go cup in his hand out of habit, but Annabeth had settled down at one of the open tables.

"Here," she said. Percy made the drink in a large ceramic mug.

"What brings you in tonight?" He asked, as he dropped off the coffee.

He didn't have anything pressing in the back, and there were only two college students diligently working on the other side. He could chat for a while.

As if reading his mind, Annabeth used her foot to push a chair out for him. Percy said down as she took the first sip. She closed her eyes and sighed happily.

"That's so good," she said. Percy was pretty sure he was flushed again. He hoped it went away before she could open her eyes. "It was just one of those long end-of-the-year work days, you know? Everyone rushing to get things done. I wanted something to cheer me up, and I walked by and thought ..." she looked at him in a new, attentive way he'd never caught before. "... a warm drink sounds nice."

"I hope it helped," he said.

"It is," she promised.

"I've got a new vegan cinnamon roll I'm testing. Want to try it?" Percy offered.

"How is it?" She asked.

"Not sure, they're fresh, first round," he said.

"I guess I can help test it for you," Annabeth said with a smile.

Percy jumped up and came back a minute later with one round roll on a plate and two forks.

He tried not to be too creepy as he watched her take a bite, savor it, and then carefully make up her mind.

"It's a little dry," she determined. "The icing is great, and the taste is good, but ..."

Percy took his own bite and nodded. "Too much cinnamon. It dries it out."

"Still pretty delicious," Annabeth said, going for another bite, "especially for not having half the ingredients that make food taste good."

"Thanks!" Percy said with a wide smile. "You know, my co-owner Grover is vegan."

"Oh, is he the motivation for all the new treats?" Annabeth asked.

"Uh, sure," Percy said, barely playing off that she was the real reason, not his best friend of almost twenty years, "but he was telling me about this new vegan restaurant. He says it's pretty good."

Annabeth was smiling, and she had a mischievous look in her eyes that told him she was six steps ahead of him.

"Oh?" She said innocently, going for another bite of the cinnamon roll, but not actually putting the fork in her mouth yet. "Have you tried it?" She asked, finally taking a bite.

"No, I was wondering if you'd maybe want to go with me? If you're not too busy?" He hadn't planned to ask her out today. He was thinking of maybe doing something corny and easy to ignore, like writing his phone number on her to-go cup. But he was in it now.

"I'd love to," she promised. Annabeth reached into her bag and pulled out a business card, and then shook her head. "Is this horribly impersonal and --?"

"It's alright," Percy said, "as long as I don't have to fax you the date information." There was a fax number on the card.

"Please don't, it's a communal machine," she said, "and older than I am."

"Alright, I won't," Percy promised. He didn't have a business card of his own, just ones with the coffee shop's information. So instead he did what most modern people did: he texted the cell number on her business card with a simple hey it's percy and a coffee cup emoji.

Annabeth smiled and took a second to save the number.

"So," she said, picking up her still-full drink. "Why did you start making vegan pastries?"

She had that I'm way ahead of you look in her eyes again. Percy swallowed hard.

"Um ..."

[alexthetrashyracoon]

CW// None, a bit cursing (tiny bit, don’t even know why I’m telling you this :>) Mistakes are now adoptable, find one, take one for free.

Likes/Shares/Comment are all free and happily received <3 I’m still not sure how Tumblr actually works, so I’m just pushing stuff out until one of you tells me to stop <3

Simon is your new neighbor, you saw him, together with what you assumed some of his friends, move a couch and some boxes up the stairs of the building. You even exchanged some nice words with one of them in the elevator.

But you haven’t really talked with Simon personally, despite being his neighbor for almost three weeks now.

So one evening you decide enough is enough and prepare some of your famous Spaghetti.

Everybody loves Spaghetti, right?

You quickly change into something more appropriate than your joggers and some loose shirt and march over to Simon’s apartment.

He opens the door, after letting you wait for almost two whole minutes. His hair is wet, he must have been in the shower. “Yeah?” He asks gruffly, wiping a short strand of blonde hair from his handsome, gruffly face.

Maybe you blush, but that’s not important right now.

“Hey!” You grin, introducing yourself and holding out the bowl with spaghetti and tomato sauce. “I brought food as a welcome gift.”

“Yeah, that make… do you want to come inside?” Simon chuckles, a bit overwhelmed by your enthusiasm.

You grin and slip inside.

The apartment is almost naked. The couch in the middle of the room, a potted plant in the corner. Otherwise not much else. But there are boxes. “You moved her three weeks ago and you still haven’t unpacked? I would turn insane if I had to live out of boxes.”

Simon snorts in reply and shows you to the kitchen, which looks more lived in, fresh fruits, paper bags, dishes in the sink.

You two settle at the small dining table, both of you a plate filled with heated up spaghetti.

“Please, you have to explain to me, what made you think ‘I will now go over to my new neighbor and introduce myself with a bowl of spaghetti?” Simon asks and picks up his fork.

“I could have brought muffins or cookies or something equally boring. Bringing something like Spaghetti will make sure I’ll be on your mind.” You grin and Simon laughs deeply at that. He nods and you two start eating in silence.

After that you talk, he offers you a beer and you agree, you move onto the couch, one beer turns into two and two into three. Talking to Simon was easy, mostly because he listened most of the time, he asked questions and answered yours, not with too many words but with enough that you got the idea.

He was a soldier, had retired earlier this year and was now trying to figure out what to do with his life. You like listening to him, his voice is gravely and deep, you hope you can listen to him talk much more often.

One hour turned into two and soon the sun rose through the big windows of the place which makes you go wide eyes.

“What time is it?” You ask when he was talking about some bar misbehavior that happened with some of his teammates.

“Eight I think?” Simon answers when he catches himself since you surprised call had startled him.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I have to go. Now. I had to be at work an hour ago! Call me if you want to repeat this meeting!” You grin and hurry out of Simon’s apartment.

Of course you’ll get reprimanded when you show up almost two hours too late to work, but the meeting with Simon was worth it. And when your phone vibrate minutes after you started, you glance down on the screen and see Simon’s name.

��I’ll make some mean burger. Come by after your shift. And when you’re up for it, we unpack my stuff so I don’t live out of boxes any longer, you little pest.’

[amphibiahawks321]

[Y/N cookie walking into the group's campfire spot alongside rye cookie, the gang– gingerbrave, chili pepper cookie, wizard cookie, and strawberry cookie sitting down chatting with each other]

[Y/N cookie smiling warmly]

M!Reader cookie : Howdy there, everyone! Name's Y/N cookie, heard a lot about y'all from rye cookie, thought I'd finally introduce myself!

[Gingerbrave grinning widely, bouncing up, completely excited and immediately greets him]

Gingerbrave : Wow! so you're rye cookie's friend! It's great to meet you! Rye always talks about how you're one tough cookie, literally!

M!Reader cookie : Chuckles.. Well, Ain't that just a warm welcome, Gingerbrave, I've heard bout your bravery! Ya got a lotta heart, that's something to admire

Gingerbrave : Aw, thanks! I just do what I can!

M!Reader cookie : And you must be chili pepper, I can tell just by lookin atcha, you're the kinda cookie who doesn't back down from nothin, that's the kinda spark a group needs y'know!

Chili pepper (smirking) : Well isn't that a sweet thing to say

M!Reader cookie : Chuckles... Strawberry, Rye told me you're quiet, but don't let that fool anyone, ya got an eye for detail and a knack for stayin calm under pressure, that's a rare thing!

[Strawberry cookie hiding under her hoodie, embarrassed by Y/N cookie's comment]

Strawberry : Oh, um... thank you...

M!Reader cookie : And wizard cookie, I hear you're the brains of the group! you seems the type of cookie that would always come up somethin clever, keepin the group on their toes, I respect that!

[Wizard cookie adjusts himself, trying not to look pleased]

Wizard cookie : Why of course! Someone has to ensure this group doesn't fall apart or get themselves kill

[Chili pepper leans back with a smug grin, crossing her arms]

Chili pepper : Well, well, looks like the bounty hunter rye cookie landed herself a prize worth more than all the gold in the kingdom~

Wizard cookie : indeed, he knows how to respect cookies properly

[Rye cookie starts blushing but trying to stay composed]

Rye cookie : Chili, wizard, quit your talkin, I didn't 'capture' anyone, Y/N cookie came along Willingly

M!Reader cookie : Chuckles... Heh, I reckon I don't mind being 'captured' if Rye cookie's the one doing it~

[Y/N cookie flashes a playful wink at Rye cookie making Rye cookie starts covering her reddening blush using her hat]

Wizard : I can tell there's something more to this 'friendship' of theirs....

Chili pepper : Which part gave it away? The blushing sheriff or the flirty "friend"?

[pumpkiillnn]

I MANIFESTED INSTANTLY

(Which is also shifting!)

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧

Some context for you... I was processing feelings of frustration and hopelessness relating to shifting when this occurred. Part of my process is just marinating in a deep state of indifference and letting my brain rot for a bit. I'm explaining this so you know I was mildly dissociated and detached.

For those of you unfamiliar, "Cookie Run: Kingdom," is a gacha game. This means you can use virtual currency to receive random in-game items. Cookie cutters are a way to pull from the gacha without spending your currency.

While playing the aforementioned game, I pulled 10 items from the gacha. I wasn't really hoping to get anything rare, I just had some cookie cutters and was bored. Before I saw what I got, I knew I got the cookie I had been struggling to pull. Subconsciously I truly knew I would get her. I did not believe it, or attempt to convince myself it was fact; I knew it as I know the grass is green (In this world at least). I was not dominantly thinking "I will get this cookie," I just simply knew. The only way I find myself able to describe it is as if someone I trust spoiled a show for me. Like great, now I know what's going to happen. I felt no emotion as I saw her cutscene, I already knew I was going to get her.

I have tried to replicate this feeling while pulling for other cookies, but haven't been able to. I find myself lacking the ability to even attempt replicating it without feeling like I am trying to convince myself of it. I dream of finding that inner peace again. That deep-rooted all-knowing power. If you are reading this and think that my choice of words is dramatic, you must not have experienced an instant manifestation. I know it is "just" a cookie, but you must understand this is my first time having undeniable proof of LOA.

(Note from a few weeks later, I have been instantly manifesting almost every day since this event. I'm so happy!)

[saiintvalentiine]

Summary: Wifies runs a small bakery that has some. . . interesting clientele. A snapshot of a typical day at Wifies's bakery and café.

Notes: written quickly in the span of like 5 hours while at work and mostly unedited, here is some fluff as an apology for all the psychological damage I did the other night :') please forgive any SPAG errors, I'll give it a good clean and cross post to AO3 some other time. With cameos from Ken, Parrot, Egg and Wemmbu, and Wato ! divider

Word count: 1,445

The bell over the bakery door jingles merrily, and Wifies steps out of the kitchen with a generic greeting on his tongue before he realizes it's Ken. It's been a while since he’d seen Ken. Today, Ken has a long skirt on, so Wifies can't see if the ankle monitor is still on. He has those, sometimes. Wifies usually finds out because he launches directly into complaining about it.

“Wifies!”

“Hi Ken. Why are you here at 5:30 am?”

Wifies woke up at 3 am. Bakeries are early work after all, but Ken’s schedule is a mystery to him.

“I just got out of work actually!”

Ken leans up against the big display next to the counter, dual colored eyes darting around rapidly across all the cookies and cakes. Wifies can already tell what he's going to get, so he grabs a box and starts puzzling it together.

“Ohhh, I want one of those.”

Ken taps the glass over a tray of meat pastelitos. Made of thin, crunchy layers of pastry and stuffed with minced meat, it's exactly the kind of thing Ken would enjoy. They're only sweet enough to make the savory stand out.

“Of course. How many?”

Ken taps his claws on the glass a few times and says, “Three.”

Wifies snorts and grabs a piece of parchment paper. They're easier to handle with his hands and not tongs. He piles three into the box and shuts it, returning to the counter where Ken is already dropping off some diamonds.

“Just the one,” Wifies says, handing Ken the box.

“Shut up,” Ken says, dropping the rest of the diamonds into the tip jar.

He opens the box and pulls a pastelito out. Wifies's bakery is small, shoved into a corner of the block, so there isn't really anywhere to sit. Ken has never really cared about that kind of thing though. He takes a bite out of the pastry— really he chomps through half of it— and crumbs go flying everywhere. He groans.

“So good,” Ken mutters around his mouthful.

“You're dirtying my counter,” Wifies pulls the towel he keeps in his pocket out and wipes the mess away

“No tables!”

“Shut up.”

Ken finishes his pastry and grabs a wad of napkins out of the dispenser at the far end of the counter, cleaning his face and fingers off.

“Wifies, if you leave this town, I'm killing myself,” Ken says serenely, closing the box back up. “Have a good day.”

“You too, Ken.”

Ken leaves with a skip in his step and a pleased curl to his tail. Today's forecast was rain all day, so Wifies isn't expecting much traffic; it was a pleasant surprise to see Ken at all. He has dough that needs proofing, cupcakes to ice, and bread to bake though, so he returns to the kitchen with low expectations. When the bell rings only 30 minutes later, though, he's surprised again.

“Welcome,” Wifies calls out, wiping his hands on his apron. “How can I help you?”

“Hey.”

Parrot shakes his wings out and waves at Wifies. He's got a nasty cut on his jaw and a bruise over his eyebrow.

“Oh, Parrot,” Wifies sighs, opening the gate to get around the counter and get right into Parrot's space.

“It's not that bad!”

Wifies makes sure his hands are dry before turning Parrot's face to one side and looking at the cut. It's clean, which is a good thing, but it's raw and red still.

“It's not that bad,” Parrot repeats, letting Wifies inspect him regardless. “I won!”

“At least you won,” Wifies sighs again and lets go of Parrot, returning to his spot behind the counter. “Winners still don't get discounts.”

Parrot laughs and checks out the display. He crouches and his profile twists up— he must be hurt under his clothes. Wifies isn't sure why Parrot is always getting into scraps, but he wishes that he'd be less injury prone. Parrot taps on the glass.

“A lemon bar, and a sugar cookie too.”

Wifies packs those up for him.

“Have you gotten your coffee machine fixed yet?” Parrot asks, handing over some diamonds.

“Not yet, sorry.”

“Then what kind of tea should I have with the lemon bar?”

Wifies perks up. Parrot never orders tea.

“Earl grey.”

“Then I’ll take some.”

Wifies can’t help how obvious his pleasure is. He loves tea, but it’s not a popular drink since most people just want coffee. He makes himself a cup of earl grey too, in his own mug instead of a takeout cup.

“Do you want honey?”

“Make it however you like it most.”

Wifies adds honey and a bit of cream, stirring it all up and capping it. He hands Parrot his take out cup and sips at his mug with a pleased sigh. Parrot tries his own.

“That’s really good.”

Wifies grins and says, “I know!”

Parrot leaves with a wave, and Wifies hangs out at the counter for a few minutes with his tea. The sky cracks open with rain as he finishes the last dregs in his mug, and with it comes the tumbling bodies of Egg and Wemmbu.

“Hi there you two,” Wifies says, popping into the kitchen to drop his mug off at the sink before coming back out. “Caught by the rain?”

“It’s awful out there!” Egg complains.

Wemmbu silently wrings his hair out over the welcome mat.

“Do you have any quiches?” Egg asks, bouncing on his heels.

“No more quiches!” Wemmbu complains, but Wifies ignores him as he usually does.

Egg is the one who pays, and Egg is the one who’s nice to him, so Egg gets to have as many quiches as he wants.

“I do. I have spinach cheddar, tomato basil, and artichoke parmesan.”

“Ohhhhh, Wifies, two of each please.”

“Coming right up.”

Wemmbu complains loudly as Wifies packs each quiche pair into their own little boxes. Egg doesn’t give Wemmbu the time of day when it comes to what he orders here; it’s obvious Wemmbu makes enough demands that Egg is over him. Sometimes Wifies wonders what the appeal of sticking around Wemmbu is for someone as pleasant as Egg, but he also knows that the purple jacket Egg is wearing is Wemmbu’s, so maybe he does understand.

“Thank you Wifies,” Egg says, big blue eye somehow conveying joy even in its singularity. “See you!”

“Stay safe out there.”

Wemmbu groans and they dash out into the rain. After them, the day remains misty and quiet. A few more people come in and out, but Wifies spends most of his time in the kitchen, working on some custom orders. Usually, bakeries like his close pretty early— most of his profit is made in the morning, and after 3 pm, foot traffic dies quickly. But he’s waiting for his clockwork patron to arrive before closing for the day. At 5 pm, his door bell jingles, and when he reaches the counter, Wato is already looking through the display with a critical eye.

“Hi Wato,” Wifies opens the gate and goes to the door to flip the sign from open to closed.

“Hey Wifies,” Wato’s green tail sways behind them like a metronome. “Anything new today?”

“I do!”

Wato perks up, a puff of bedrock dust floating up from their clothes at the sudden movement. Bedrock has a strange, distinct smell, in that it clears other smells out in its wake. It smells like fog, or void, or absence. Wifies shivers at the way that not-smell fills the air so familiarly, wipes away the sweetness of sugar and warmth of bread that he’s been basking in all day.

Wato sneezes.

“Bless you.”

“Thanks. What did you make?”

“Please hold.”

He’s been storing it in wait for Wato. Once it’s warmed through, he brings it to the counter, held out like a cake.

“A breakfast pot pie. It’s made with sausage, cheese, bacon, potatoes, cream, and a poached egg baked into the top of the pie crust.”

Wato’s tail starts wagging like crazy. It kicks up more bedrock dust, but nothing can take away how proud Wifies is right now. He grabs a plastic fork and hands it off to Wato. Wato wordlessly digs in. Wifies doesn’t usually like staring people down when they eat, finds it weird and invasive, but Wato wears their joy on their face, and right now they look absolutely delighted.

“Wifies, marry me,” Wato says, turning their big green eyes onto Wifies. Wifies laughs loudly. “Stop laughing, marry me now, I can’t love another day without this.”

“You won’t have to,” Wifies assures. “I’m gonna be here for a long, long time.”

[user2772636]

Douzième Fille

12th girl

××《☆》××

××《☆》××

You can't deny beauty, so don't do it at all. Some time is spent at the beach with a boy you're trying to quietly reject. Begging, though pitying, looks good on our one-eyed boy.

===

Joseph Descamps x Reader

Warnings: boys being boys (ft. grown ass men), swearing, sl?!t shaming, bullying, smoking, angsty-er than normal

Also, another reference, now from the show Normal People and the movie (500) Days of Summer

===

Song: Salvatore by Lana Del Rey

(For some reason, I can't display it. Sorry about the technical difficulties.)

===

Chapter seven: Salvatore

===

I walk the unfamiliar streets of the town, only now headed this way. I was instructed by my mother to pick something up from a lady's house this morning, specifically a box of sweets.

It was delivered to the wrong address, and my mother got in contact with the company, which gave her the contact number of the address they gave it to, and the two women made arrangements.

I look up at the plain white door with embedding, knocking on it gently. I hear footsteps from inside, then the door opens with a creak.

"Good morning, ma'am. I was sent by my mother, Julliete Pardine." The woman smiles down at me, the elevation of her house making her taller.

"You must be Y/N. Come on in." She ushers me inside, opening the door wider. I take careful steps on the stairs, eyeing my feet to not fall and embarrass myself. Looking up was something I regret.

In all his glory, after being completely ignored for two weeks, Joseph Descamps stands in front of a drawer and mirror, eye wide open, mouth parted slightly, and looking as pretty as he always did.

I get snapped out of my trance when the woman, now I know as Mrs. Descamps, hands me the box of cookies.

"Now, Y/N, where do you study? I hope I'm not making you late this morning." I turn my focus to her, ignoring the butterflies wanting to escape my stomach through my throat.

"You're not. I study at Voltaire." Mrs. Descamps' eyes widen like her sons, and she smiles a bright smile.

"Oh, what a coincidence. My son goes there, too. Maybe you could walk each other. It's always good for a girl your age to have some company when walking the streets. Maybe you already know each other?" She glances at her son, nodding her head towards me. I look at Joseph, and something reminds me of a promise I made him before.

We're sitting on my bed, writing some notes for Maths. Joseph's voice comes alive.

"Hey, what do you think will happen to us in college?" I look up from my paper, eyeing Joseph steadily.

"What kind of question is that? You're thinking about college already?" I don't mention the fact that he's thinking about us two when talking about what'll happen.

"Well, you know, since schools are mixing boys and girls now, and it's going pretty well, so in college, it might be continued. I just wanna know if we'll still be... friends." I scoff slightly, letting go of my pencil to reach for his free hand.

"Joseph, let me assure you we'll still be friends. I promise." Joseph looks at me, squinting his eyes and pursing his lips. I tilt my head in worry.

"But... what if we don't end up in the same college? And when you're with your new friends, then you see me, you'll act like you never knew who I was?" I scan his face, his beautiful face, biting gently on my bottom lip. I caress his hand with my thumb.

"I would never act like I don't know you." I say in a whisper. He doesn't say anything after that, collecting my words somehow.

"Can you promise that, too?" I smile gently at him, lifting his hand up to my lips, kissing his rough knuckles.

"I promise."

I would've never thought what might happen in college happens so soon.

So when I look at him, all I can think about is his soul, and that even in a matter of weeks, it's filled me whole.

"Yes. We know each other." I look at Mrs. Descamps again, and her face lights up brighter than before.

Her son looks like her. The way both their eyes wrinkle a bit under when they smile, the way their cheeks shows lines, and the way their eyes light up. I barely see that in him anymore. And the last time I did, it was with me.

"Good. He shall walk you to school this morning." She walks to her son now, grabbing his arm to drag him closer to me. I don't look him in the eye, my heart still aching from the afternoon in the alley.

I can sense him tilting his head, brows etched in worry and body leaning towards me. He feels so warm even from far away. I want him closer.

"Anyways, I made you a sandwich for lunch. I know what food's like at school." Mrs. Descamps tells her son. I look at her now petite image, even more small when standing next to her child. Well, if he even is a child anymore.

"Thanks." He replies simply, head down. I try my best not to hold him like I used to. To ask him what's wrong.

"I saw the ophthalmologist. He thinks it's time." I furrow my eyebrows, not sure what type of doctor that is.

"Oh, yeah?" Fuck. Why'd he have to say it like that? Butterflies fill my stomach again. Not here. Not infront of his mom, for fucks sake.

"They've made great strides." She ruffles his hair. Damn, I used to do that. I miss it. "They can match your eye colour exactly now. You can't tell the difference."

"Have you ever seen someone with a glass eye? One eye moves, the other doesn't." Oh, so that's what this is about.

His mother cups his face. "My son is not a pirate. You'll be handsome again." I speak before I think.

"Your son is handsome." They turn their heads to me, and I flush in embarrassment. I finally look at Joseph, and there's a glimmer of hope in his eyes. His cheeks are flushed like mine, and he searches my face.

"Well, I'm glad you think so. But I think he should get it anyway. The mother knows best, like they say." Joseph doesn't even turn his head to his mother's direction. He doesn't even hear her. All he's looking at is me, and I can't find myself to look away.

"Well," I stutter out, looking to Mrs. Descamps. "It was nice to meet you. See you soon, ma'am." She smiles at me, rubbing my shoulder gently.

"Would you like to come to dinner tonight? I'm making a roast." Before I could answer, Joseph does it for me.

"Mama-" I cut him off. "Yes. Sure, ma'am. I'll come for dinner." I say, placing the box of cookies in my satchel. She laughs in glee.

"Alright! That's settled then. Now get going, or your teachers will have a field day with you two." She ushers us to the front door, closing the it once we're outside. I glance at him for a second, then start walking in a fast pace.

"Y/N!" He calls out.

"Oh, first name basis again? Didn't know we were that close." I say, Joseph catching up to my side.

"Please, I can explain. Let me." I scoff, disbelief in my face.

"No, thanks. Go have some fun with your girlfriend." I try to walk faster, but he catches up anyway.

"She's not my girlfriend, I swear. Y/N, please. You're killing me here." His voice cracks in desperation, and it takes all my strength not to stumble from my suddenly shaky legs.

"Good." He whimpers. Fucking whimpers. Holy shit, please give me strength.

"Y/N. Please. Just, please." I slow down a bit, pitying him.

"You have one minute." I face him, crossing my arms.

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Ex then?" He shakes his head profusely.

"No. I don't even know her. She just came up to me and started getting all over me."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"Please do. Because I swear on my life, Y/N, I would never do that to you."

"But you did. You did when you were talking shit about me to your friends. You did when you let her get all over you." He doesn't speak, and my throat goes dry.

"Exactly. So don't even fucking talk." I turn around and walk away, tears pooling my eyes. I can't believe him. I can't believe me.

××《☆》××

I stand next to Simone in front of the gate, tapping my foot against the gravel.

"What are we doing here again?" I ask, seeing Simone bite her lip in anxiety.

"We're waiting for-" Simone cuts herself off, shouting for Michèle. I walk towards the both of them.

"Michèle, it's been weeks. How long will you be mad?" I delay behind them, trying to give both girls privacy.

"How long have you been seeing my brother behind my back?" Oh. So they got together. I'm happy for Simone, though I already had an idea, but this was the moment she was dreading to come.

They get through the gate. "I wanted to tell you." Simone explains.

Michèle only glances at her. "You played me for a fool."

It's worrying to see both my closest friends argue because you don't know whether or not they'll recover and stay friends.

"It wasn't like that." Simone breaks my thoughts.

"Does he know about Alain?" Michèle says, seemingly angry if her brother did know.

"Of course not. I never told him anything you shared with me." Simone flushes. "If he knew anything, you'd have known about it." They stop walking. I keep my distance.

"I never said it was Jean Pierre, but the rest was true." Someone calls out for Michèle.

"I miss our talks." That was the last thing Simone said before Michèle got dragged away by some girls.

I walk up to Simone, smiling slightly.

"So..." I pause, looking up at her. "Jean Pierre?"

This gets her so smile a bit, red covering her cheeks.

"Yeah." She tucks her hair behind her ear, and I can't help but giggle at her antic.

"He was Eugène the whole time?" I question. She looks at me with even more red on her cheeks.

"I knew it." We both giggle in our girlish nature as we head inside the school.

××《☆》××

Two beeps are heard outside the gate of Voltaire, and I rush down the ramp. I accidentally bumped into someone, and I say a quick apology. I glance behind me, having to do a double take at the one-eyed boy. I look away quickly, walking to Callum's car.

"Pretty girl." Callum hands me a bouquet of pink tulips, and I smile at the sight of it, forgetting about Joseph for a second. Just a second.

"Where are we headed?" I ask, thanking Callum for opening the passenger's door for me.

"The beach. There's a car meet I was invited to take some photos of. Do you mind?" He opens up the roof, letting the wind outside and the heat hit us.

"No. Don't mind at all. Let's get going." He smiles at me simply, and I fail to notice some things he brought on the back of his car.

The drive to the beach was comfortably quiet, wind messing our hair up, the smell of salt and soil filling our senses.

From up the hill, I see the mounds of cars on the white sand below. I smile at the sight, ready for Callum's lovely rambling of all the different cars.

Callum once again opens my door for me, even rolling on the hood of the car for comedic action. It works, and I laugh at him. All he does is smile, offering his hand out for support.

The rest of the afternoon was spent taking photos of the cars, some of which he asked me to model for him again. I did so, adding some fun with the comfortable aura that surrounded both of us.

We moved the car to an area further from the meet, deciding to go out for a swim. I unfortunately wasn't ready for the trip, not bringing any swimwear, so Callum wastes no time to go to the shops behind us, telling me to get a new pair. He even paid for it, then waited for me to come out.

In Callum fashion, we took more pictures. We went for a swim, him wearing no top and just a pair of shorts. It didn't feel awkward around him. It felt so natural, like I'd known him longer than I do.

So when we finished playing in the salty water, and the sun was setting, we settled down on the mat to watch it.

"Y/N?" I turn my head to him, humming in response.

I see him fidget with his fingers. "I've known you for a while now, and in the time I've known you, it's been the best time of my life."

I get a sense of anxiety in him, so I grab his hand, and it feels familiar to a moment I shared with someone else. I push that thought down.

"Callum, talk to me. Is there something wrong?" He looks up at me, adoration in his brown doe eyes. I've seen that look before. Suddenly the smell of the ocean is suffocating me.

"Y/N, I love you. Nothing will ever change that." I breathe in a shaky breath. "I love that you care and that you're just effortlessly an amazing person." Tears pool under his eyes, and I cup his cheeks as they fall, wiping them away. He cups that hand with his.

"You're amazing, and I would never wanna lose you. I don't want to let you go." He pauses, and I await his next words. "But I have to."

I furrow my brows, wondering what he meant. I nod at him to go on.

"You love him. It's so clear that I'm surprised you don't even know it." My mind blanks.

"And it's completely fine. You don't have to worry about me, because if you'll let me, I'll stay, and I'll love you while you love him." He sniffles, and my heart breaks for him.

The sky is orange, with pinks and blues popping out through some clouds. The ocean waves crash against the white sand, foam popping as it loops back. I can hear our hearts beating, our breaths shaking, and our skin grasping at the other.

"Callum, please don't hate me." He chuckles, kissing the inside of my hand.

"I could never hate you, pretty girl." Tears seep out of my eyes as it did his, and he hushes me, pulling me in his bare chest, caressing my back as I sob apologies to him.

It goes on for a while, and we sit there, the sun gone, cars revving in the distance, waves crashing, seagulls squawking, the moon shining on our bodies, and tears as salty as the sea.

When we pull away, he cups my face and stares. He stares at me with a smile, his broken heart still beating. And I look at him like he's a saint. And he is.

We don't talk on the way home, still a comfortable silence between us. As we stop walking infront of my flat, he says something to break the long silence.

"Still up for tomorrow?" I nod. I had told him this morning that I had some errands to run. He agreed to take me around town. I'm glad he still wants to come through.

Before he walks away and disappears around the corner, I call out for him. He turns around, hand in his pockets.

"You know I love you too, right?" He smiles that sweet smile. I can't help but do the same. He walks back to me slowly, cupping my cheek like he did in the beach.

"I know." He whispers, leaning in to kiss my forehead, lingering. He pulls away, still smiling, and walks away for good.

I get in my flat, closing the door and looking at George.

"I don't wanna talk about it." He meows. I lift him up to go cuddle in my room.

××《☆》××

The next day goes through smoothly. Callum picks me up at the end of the day. We stopped by my flat first, and I picked George up, deciding to finally take him out of the house.

The first stop was the pharmacy, and the person I've been dreading to see was there. I asked Callum if he needed anything, and all he does is shake his head. I open the door with George in hand, standing eye to eye with the taller boy.

"Descamps." I say in greeting. He's heaving, eye scanning my frame like he always does. I purse my lips, greeting the pharmacist. The pharmacist greets George, seeing I've brought him around from time to time. George was basically a regular here.

"Pardine." He greets, but his voice shivers. I almost ask him what's wrong, 'till I remember.

George wriggles out of my arms and into his. He loses his balance a bit, regaining it as he holds George like a baby, like he did before. Fuck, I miss him.

"Hello, George." He smiles softly at the cat, and I can't help but melt internally. I take a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. He's holding him so gently, and my heart pound in my chest. Hard.

I grab my things from the pharmacist, thanking them quietly before trying to get George. He growls at me, and I stare at him in shock. Joseph looks up at me. When I look at him, I don't look away immediately.

"I can take him to your car." He says in an almost whisper, turning his head down. He's so shy, and I just want to hold him.

Before we could get out, Michèle goes through the door of the pharmacy. I smile at her gently, greeting her a hi. She greets me back. I wait for her, wlaking with her outside.

"Laubrac, what a surprise." She says, and I roll my eyes at her. She looks at me sheepishly, making a pointed look at Joseph. I understand the sign.

"Did you plan to meet here?" I wave at Laubrac, and he smiles, cigarette in between his fingers.

"What are you doing here?" Joseph asks Laubrac as he eyes the boy up and down, the shy demeanourhe had with me long gone. George is still in hand, but now he carries him with one arm.

"My parents' butcher shop isn't far." Michèle cuts in. "I have to go, or my mom will kill me. See you at school." She bids off to the three of us.

"Aren't you working with your chickens today?" Joseph asks Laubrac, and I glare at his rudeness. He doesn't notice.

"Even farmhands get time off." Laubrac answers simply. There's a pause.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow." Laubrac walks off now, leaving me and Joseph infront of the alley.

"Let's just go." I walk to Callum, seeing him smoking a cigarette in the car, window opened slightly. He spots the two of us and unlocks the door. Joseph's quick to open it for me, and I just look at him, flushing at the gesture.

"Thanks." I whisper, ducking my head to get seated. Joseph crouches down, kissing George's head, and placing him on my lap.

"Joseph. Long time no see." Callum raises a hand in greeting, throwing the dead cigarette out his open window.

"Callum. Saw you pick her up yesterday. Where were you guys headed?" Joseph raises a brow, some sort of annoyance in his voice.

"Took her to the beach to a car meet. Did some swimming, she learnt something about me, and I told her something about herself." Callum puts simply.

Joseph doesn't like his answer. "Told her something about herself, huh?"

Callum notices his tone and chuckles. "Yeah. Something she needed to set straight. You know, something she knows deep down, but she's not doing anything about it." Joseph's gripping hard on the door handle, his knuckles going white.

"And what would that be?" Callum smiles at him.

"Can't tell you. Only she can. Actually, you can probably help her out with it. I'm sure you're feeling the same way she does." That's when I whip my head to face the boy, face as red as a ferrari, heart beating faster than a race car. Sorry, Callum's rambling is affecting me.

"Yeah? What's she feeling? I doubt that it's anything bad, considering that's not how I feel about her." Joseph looks at me, leaning against his now crossed arms in the window shield. With both boys' attention on me, my breathing hollows.

"It's nothing. Bye, Descamps." Callum chuckles, getting the car to start, then beeping it at Joseph as a goodbye. Once we're far away enough, I hit Callum on the shoulder.

"What was that for?" I scream out, embarrassment flooding off of me. Callum won't stop laughing.

"Oh, come on. You two knuckleheads should just get together! You're so obviously in love." I groan, covering my face with my hands. George meows at me.

"I can't believe you, Callum."

"Plus, summer's in a few. You're gonna have to tell him before you leave." Shit. Summer. Paris. I haven't told him yet.

"Fuck. I hate that you're right." I think for a while. "But we're still on bad terms!"

"You just want to be on bad terms because you don't wanna confront him about it. I can see, very clearly, actually, how much you guys want to be together."

His response makes the gears in my head turn. He's right, I admit it. But how do I tell him? When? Where?

Then I remember the girl, and he'll probably forget about me before I even leave. He won't notice that I'm gone.

So, now that I think about it, it won't be so hard. So why can't I bring myself to be relieved? As if I want it to be hard. For him to beg for me not to leave. Not to go. Not to move.

Because if I do, I'll forget about him. But I could never forget him, no matter how hard I try. Because he's Joseph Descamps, the boy who I love too much for my own good. The boy with one eye. The boy I think about when looking at the future. The boy that will always stay in my mind, heart, and soul.

It'll be easy. If not for me, for him. He'll fall in love with some girl, marry her, live with her, have a family with her, grow old with her. Then I'll just be there, thinking about him day and night, counting the endless possibilities and what ifs.

And if I had just realised earlier, told him earlier, loved him earlier, then maybe, just maybe, I'd be happy.

That's not the case. Not now, not ever. And I'll have to live with that 'till the day I die, with him in mind.

××《☆》××

There was a test that morning. Laubrac came in late. We finished the test. The day ends. It was simple. Quiet. But, chaos came in an errand again.

Joseph walks into the butchers, and I internally gape at the sight of him. He's so, so beautiful. I think I might cry. I can't even describe how beautiful he looks right now. I wish I could kiss that patch again. Cup his face with my hands again. Brush his hair, hold his hand, and feel his lips on mine.

The store is quiet, and customers look at the walking image of beauty, including Michèle's mother. She calls out for her husband.

I just stare at Joseph. He doesn't notice I'm there, fully focused on the couple.

"I hear the Magnan's like to sleep with foreigners and thugs." I furrow my eyebrows, frustrated at the juncture.

"You're the only thug here." I keep my eyes on Joseph, trying to figure out his next move.

"The thug is that foster kid sleeping with your fifteen year old daughter." Joseph answers. I purse my lips disappointedly.

"You didn't know?" He says, acting all innocent. "I'm sorry, but it's true. Your son's too busy fooling around with a foreign girl to warn you."

What the actual fuck. What's gotten into him?

"Get out!" Mrs. Magnan says. "It's all lies. Lies!"

He chuckles, and why the fuck is it so attractive?

"Really? If it was, you wouldn't be so upset."

He has a point there, but it's still an asshole thing to do.

"You little shit." Mr. Magnan mumbles.

"Say hi to Jean Pierre for me."

"I'll teach you a lesson!" Mr. Magnan shouts as he walks to the exit, but I beat him to it.

I walk up hurriedly to Joseph, pulling at his shoulder to face me.

"What the fuck was that?" I shout, anger pounding jn my veins.

"It's true, and you know it. Why are you so angry?" He says as if it's simple.

"They're my friends, Joseph! Why the fuck wouldn't i be upset about it?" I push his chest.

"Back to first name basis, Y/N? Go back to your boyfriend and talk about those feelings of yours." This makes my hear shatter against my chest.

"For the last time, he isn't my boyfriend."

"Why does it seem that way, huh? Do you like leading people on? Should've known. Went through it anyway!" He starts to walk away.

"You go back to your girlfriend, asshole!" He turns around and flips me off.

I fight the urge not to just sob in the middle of the street. Unbeknownst to me, he feels the same, too.

××《☆》××

I received a call in the house as soon as I get home. I pick it up, wiping the tears on my cheeks.

"Hello?" I try to hide the shake in my voice.

"Y/N, darling? This is Mrs. Descamps." Shit. Worst timing.

"Oh, good afternoon, ma'am. Is there something wrong?" I ask, worry etching my voice.

"Well, I meant to ask if you were still coming tonight. But there's also something else I wanna talk about." I furrow my brows, sniffling a bit.

"Um, sure, I'll still go." I shut my eyes in regret. I should've said no. "What is it you want to talk about?"

"Well, Joseph came home a bit gloomy. He hasn't come out of his room, and whenever I ask him what's wrong, he just tells me off. I'm worried, you know, as a mother is, and I was wondering if anything happened at school." My heart aches for the woman.

"Well, to be honest, ma'am, I think it's better if you ask him. I don't want to say anything I'm not supposed to."

"Oh, well, that's alright." There's a lace of disappointment in her voice. "Well, I'll see you later, darling. Come by 7 or later." We bid each other goodbye and hang up.

I put my pearl necklace on, the item in contrast with my red dress. It's quite formal, but that's what you wear for dinner, right? There's a semi-big bow on the back, wrapped around my waist like a present.

Time passes as I get ready. The whole time, my heart pounded in my chest. I'd have to see him again. Talk to him. And after that argument.

So when I arrive and knock on the door, and Joseph answers, my heart stops its beating.

Thankfully, Mrs. Descamps ushers me in her home once again, and we're at the dinner table, eating silently. Well, just Mrs. Descamps really. Me and Joseph don't touch our food, keeping our head down.

"Something wrong with the food, children?" Mrs. Descamps says, and I'm quick to dismiss the idea, not wanting her to feel down about it.

"There's nothing wrong with the food, ma'am. I just... I ate a bit before coming here." I take a hold of her hand, reassuring her.

"Oh, that makes sense." She grabs her sons hand. "What about you, my angel? You haven't eaten anything when you got home."

I glance at him in worry, his eye catching me. We put our heads down at the same time.

"Just no appetite, Mama." He purses his lips at her.

"I hope you're not mad about earlier. I won't make you get the glass eye anymore." She looks at me again, a mischievous smile on her face. "At least Y/N here thinks you're beautiful." I flush at the mention of the incident, wanting the ground to swallow me whole.

"Good. That's the only opinion that matters." He whispers to himself, but I heard it clear.

"So," Mrs. Descamps drops both our hands and gets back to eating. I start on my plate, too. "Is there something you two want to tell me?"

I blush profusely. "What do you mean, Mrs. Descamps?"

"Well, there's obviously something between you two." Mrs. Descamps shrugs. Joseph calls his mother out, and I flush even more in my seat.

"Okay, just because I'm old doesn't mean I don't know what love looks like. Me and your father-"

"Mama, please stop." Joseph groans through his hands, Mrs. Descamps laughing at her son.

"Okay, fine. I'll talk to you later." Mrs. Descamps winks at her child, then suddenly, the air isn't so suffocating anymore.

When dinner ends, Mrs. Descamps makes Joseph walk me out. We're outside their house now.

"She doesn't know about your girlfriend?" I put simply, not letting him know my heart is in shambles. He rolls his eye at me, and I have a feeling it'll make his head ache soon.

"She's not my girlfriend." I hear feet pattering against the dark cobble stone street. I turn my head, and there she was. The girl we were just talking about.

"Well, she doesn't think that." I observe her nice puffy dress, jewellery shining from the moonlight, her hair done up. She even has a bit of makeup on. I smile at her, turning back to Joseph, but not looking in his eyes.

"I called her to meet here." Joseph states, and I chuckle. He seems to have gotten what it was I was chuckling about. Tears rim my eyes in frustration.

"It's not what it seems like-" I quickly cut him off, passing by the girl in a hurry.

I hear him call out my name, and I almost trip at the desperation of it. He's always giving off the idea that he wants me, but in the end, I realise I'm in a loophole and I'm finally aware I've been a fool.

I hate Joseph. I hate his toothy smile. I hate his messy ash hair. I hate his towering frame. I hate the dirt colour eyes he has. I hate the way he walks fast with his long legs.

Fuck. Why does it always end like this? I always say I hate him, then I don't, then, like a loop, I do. When will it end? When will I finally decide how I feel?

For now, it's all his fault. It's his fault for making me feel this way. His fault for being so pretty it hurts. His fault for being so... so... Fuck.

Just plain fuck.

××《☆》××

End- Chapter seven: Salvatore

Next- Chapter eight: Joseph, Joseph, Joseph

××《☆》××

DONE W THIS CHAPTER AND ONLY 3 MORE CHAPTERS TO GO!!! We've come so far and my heart hurts for the both of them but it's part of the process. To all the Callum haters, I told u guys u would regret hating on him. We love Callum and I don't accept the hate. So guys love him pls he needs it. Anwww happy reading (not so happy this chapter is pure angst)

[aprilthearcher]

willow

remus lupin x muggle!reader (who's a Tarot reader). wc: 1,2k. semi-modern!au. no voldermort apparently. warnings: some curse words, mentions of a spirit. short but sweet!

When I heard the echo of footsteps in the hallway and a jolly tune whistled softly, I knew the session had to be finished. Usually, by the time Remus would get home, my last session would’ve wrapped up over half an hour ago, giving me time to collect myself and tidy the mess the studio fell inevitably into. Today, though, was different. The last client of the day, Tilly, a twenty-four year old girl who believed her destiny was to spend the rest of her life alone, was more agitated than she normally would be. A shook up Tilly was, by no means, anything new; yet, this altered shift to her already altered personality was brought on, surely, by the upcoming Holidays. This time of the year has, definitely, a way to get into people’s heads. 

I hand Tilly the last tissue of the box at the same time I’m standing up and putting the cards away. Some might call it multitasking, I call it “telling my client they must leave”. She dries her tears and murmurs how sorry she is that this took up so much of my time. ‘Nonsense, don’t worry about it’, I murmur back like the complete loser I am, because no amount of work has ever made me move on from my people-pleaser tendencies. She did, in fact, take up a lot of my time, more than what the usual session costs; I should have been ready to go by now.

I open the door to the studio and cough loudly and a little bit more than necessary, but it is a precaution I take every time I have a client leaving and Remus is around. The last thing I need is for one of them to see him using his wand. They might believe in what my cards can tell them about their love lives or job opportunities and new horizons, but I don’t want to have my clients obliviated. 

Discreetly, I look around the flat only to catch Remus putting away the groceries he must’ve got on his way home using his hands, thank God. He looks up wearing a comfortable smile on his face and waves at us. Before Tilly can even utter a word, I take her arm and lead her to the door, charging her more than what I usually do. Without complaining, she slides the bills on my hand.

“Is that your…?” Tilly starts to ask before I interrupt her by opening the door and smiling a little bit too much to be genuine.

“Goodbye, Tilly. See you next time!” I shut the door before she could even realise she’s out of the flat.

Making my way into the kitchen, I jump onto the counter, swinging my legs while I grab a biscuit from one of the jars. Remus is finishing with the groceries, but he’s now using his wand. I admire the fridge opening at the same time some dairies jump from the brown bag and float around the kitchen until they are neatly stored inside the fridge. Next, the lid of the cookie jar by my side starts hovering over it while more cookies enter and fill it; the crumbling of the paper is heard for a second and then it falls into the bin. I look back towards Remus, but instead there is a bag of the sweetest candy floating in front of my face, which immediately lights up. My hands try to grab it, but I’m a second too late and the bag is already flying away from me.

“You know, that’s not a nice thing to do to your non-magical girlfriend, you bastard.”

“Well, what you did to your client is also not a nice thing to do.” Ugh, the nerve. “Also, you’re not non-magical.”

“Am I not, in your world’s term, a simple muggle?”

“Yeah, well, my world can be magical but not updated on muggles. You’re not, not in the least, simple.” The final groceries are put away as Remus approaches me, settling one of his hands on my thigh, climbing till it finally rests on my waist, and the other on my cheek, tilting my head upwards so he can see my face. “That’s not what I was saying, though. You,” stressing and stretching the last sound, “are going to be clientless one day if you keep slamming the door on their faces.”

There’s an unimpressed look on my face, probably from just trying to let him talk and not attack his lips after not seeing him for the entirety of the afternoon. I like the way his voice sounds. It makes it harder to concentrate.

“That look would get you into Slytherin in a second.”

“Your magical world should upgrade in all senses, then. Cannot believe they sort you into houses and there’s a whole rivalry round that. Fuckin’ cliché.” He laughs. Next thing I know, the sight of him drawing his lower lip between his teeth makes me dizzy. I hook my arms round his neck, playing with a few strands of his hair while I sit straight and get closer to his face.

“Missed you,” I whisper.

Remus furrows his eyebrows, incredulous look on his eyes and a teasing smile appearing on his face. “Since when do you say ‘missed you’?”

“Since I’ve just spent the whole afternoon listening to a girl that reminded me too much of myself in my twenties. I hated seeing everyone from my friend group with a girlfriend or getting married to the boy they’ve been with since high school while I was alone or getting ghosted by asshats.” 

“I wasn’t much of a dating guy during my Hogwarts years either,” Remus shrugs his shoulders.

“Still, you were learning fricking magic, flying round in your brooms, making love potions. That has to count for something!” My hands stop playing with his hair to rest into their designated place, his back. From under his festive red and green sweater, I draw circles with the tips of my fingers. “Meanwhile, I was learning Tarot and had a spirit or- or something knock over my books every night.”

“A spirit?”

“Yeah, did I never tell you? Had to call the Supreme Sorceresses to get rid of it.”

“Let me guess, your mum and your aunt?”

“Who else?” 

He laughs again, and Remus is sure he will not get tired of his own laugh; not that it is related to his ego or something, but he loves knowing his laughs are a result of her presence. What else is he supposed to do around her other than laugh? She’s joyful and full of mirth, moving through life with a wicked pack of cards and no wand, creating and leaving magic everywhere she goes in her own way. He knew he would follow her to whatever her mind or those cards would take her. 

He bumps her nose with hers and when she closes her eyes with a smile lightning up her face in anticipation of their lips brushing against each other, he knows he has her. He will have her for as long as she’ll have him.

[gowns]

this train of thought (which is a frequent one) brought to you by this day with my neurodivergent 7 year old:

i pick her up from school and she immediately launches into a story about a birthday party that she went to yesterday with her dad, mid thought "--and chloe and i were up in the treehouse and were sooo scared and then miss robin had to bring us down but i didn't want to go down that way so i went down by myself but then chloe was helped down and the treehouse moved every time we moved and i think a treehouse would be fun except maybe not if it shakes and moves" etc etc etc. she gets angry at her little sister if she interrupts the monologue at all.

then she's growling because she's hungry (both of my kids do this, mile a minute talking when i pick them up, followed by an abrupt shift into whining, yelling, crying, sobbing that they're hungry)

then we are home, where she MUST have a plate of caprese open faced sandwiches on sliced baguette with fresh mozzarella, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, tomatoes and basil

she must sit at this little table and watch her favorite tv shows and eat her caprese. this is her after-school routine. today she is laughing especially hard at this wild kratts episode she's seen like 4 times before.

i notice that she has taken off her pants.

after the tv is off, i ask her to try on some clothes i got for her -- after all, she has her pants off already. she takes off her pajama top, and now she's mad she took off her pajama top.

now she's just naked and mad. there's about an hour of this. she's mad because she's not wearing clothes, but she also doesn't want to put on clothes, and she's mad at any suggestion of putting on clothes ... eventually, she's just in a fetal position growling and crying. i sit with her a bit and rub her back, go away for a bit, come back for a bit and talk to her, so on and so on. she keeps climbing into my lap and saying she wishes she could wear me instead of clothes, then melts back down into a ball on the floor.

eventually, i've pleaded with her enough ("can you please at least put a shirt on") that she's amenable to me putting a shirt on her. bribes of cookies and visibly googling "bakeries that make cookies" perk her up a bit, too.

["sweet treats" are a special interest for her. she really likes kids baking shows. she might get into baking eventually. (she still finds it very stressful and messy every time she tries. but i do like to do it with her sometimes.) sweet treats are a bigtime motivator for her.]

i get some pants on her.

many many minutes later we are putting our shoes on and headed to the car. we drive to the bakery.

we step outside and it's soooooo cold for her. (it is 64 degrees. i am also sensitive to temperature but grinning through it in a long sleeve shirt and pants. she's wearing a long sleeve shirt, sherpa hoodie, thick pants, and boots.) she clings to me and says we can't do anything, it's too cold.

ok. well. "sweet treat!" "omg sweet treat!" we are at the bakery. EXTREME DELIBERATION between cookie types. apologetic looks at the cashier. eventually a chocolate chip cookie marshmallow sandwich is decided on.

we go to the park -- "sooooo coooold!" and "how come my little sister can just run around the park and she's not dressed warm and it's fine for her??" and "how come she is the most annoying person in the world and makes the most annoying sounds and is always just so THERE and so ANNOYING!" she doesn't want to play so we just cuddle.

we hop in the car and go home -- they're happy, they've had their cookies, and the car is warm.

once we're home, minor meltdowns around dinner choices. my younger one eventually eats slices of bread and pieces of cheese, and the older one (hallelujah) eats a new kind of ravioli.

my 7 year old pulls out her homework and starts crying just looking at it. i tell her that she had a tough day and she doesn't have to do it. she says "no, i WANT to do it. it's just that i am having a HARD TIME DOING IT. but i don't want to put it away. i want to just sit down and do it. but it's making me angry."

she works herself up into big sobs, despair -- "i just can't! it's horrible! i want to tear it up! homework is either too easy or too hard! mommy, why is everything too easy or too hard, all the time??? nothing is ever just... regular!!!"

i pat her back and do some breathing with her and tell her it's ok, i get it. i get her some kombucha. (my kids love kombucha.) the kombucha helps break the negative cycling. i talk her through some problems.

once she gets on track, she finishes all 10 pages of homework in less than 8 minutes. correctly.

she gives me a hug and says "thank you for helping me." she goes to a corner of her room and does a book of word searches for fun and relaxation.

i run the bath for her -- she doesn't want to go in, until i show her i'm running extra hot water into it now, so it will be warm for her. she really hates having to take a bath; the whole process of getting naked then wet then dry then having to put on more clothes. boy do i get it. but it's also a part of our bedtime routine, and they have a difficult time sleeping if we haven't done everything in order.

and the thing is, in general:

i totally understand her.

she's just me when i was a kid.

when i gave her a hug after her homework meltdown, i said "i know it's hard, believe me. you know how i know?" and she said "yeah... we have the same kind of brain."

i said "yes! and i know how it feels like, when you can think about something very logically, like 'of course, my homework is just homework and i can do it no problem,' but then your emotions take over. it's like your feelings push the logic out of the way and start driving the car." she nodded emphatically.

"but feelings come and go, they don't last forever. see how it just felt so powerful and all-consuming? and now they're gone... and they'll come back, then they'll go away again... i know it's easier said than done, but just know that there are always ways to get back in control of the car, and i can always help you with that."

and i can help because we have the same brain!

how nice to have people in your corner. parents who understand...!

[dxncingwithastrxnger]

a heart that's mine completely (Obey Me!)

A/N: Day 4 done! Later than yesterday but I'm just glad I got it done cause I'm tired, lmao. Funnily enough, my brain kept insisting on making this one longer and if I wasn't on the verge of falling asleep, I probably would've made this longer. But alas, sleep is calling me, so I must hurry up and get this posted. Happy reading!

Pairing(s): Satan x MC

Prompt(s): 4. Satan

Summary: MC invites Satan to bake cookies with them and Satan's love for them grows even more.

Tag(s): Fluffy, suggestive/implied nsfw at the end!

Word Count: 656

Song Inspiration: Underneath the Tree by Kelly Clarkson

Not beta'd, all mistakes are my own.

~*~

[Series Masterlist]

[Read on AO3]

[Author Masterlist]

~*~

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20] [21] [22] [23] [24] [25] [26] [27] [28] [29] [30] [31]

~*~

“You want…me to bake Christmas cookies with you?” Blonde hair shifts as the Avatar of Wrath tilts his head to the side in confusion, just like a puppy, ironically. “Why not ask Beel, or Barbatos, or Luke, or Simeon?” His words aren’t meant to be harsh or negative in any way. He’s genuinely wondering why he was chosen for this particular activity. Out of everyone, he’s not some baker or chef or foodie the way those other four are. So…why?

The human standing in front of him just shakes their head with a chuckle. “Because it’s one of my favorite Christmas activities and I wanted to share that with you. I figured it could be a chance for you to try something new and a chance for me to share a piece of myself with you.”

His eyes widen slightly before he smiles, his cheeks turning pink. “Heh. Well, when you put it that way, there’s no way that I can say no, now is there?”

MC beams at him in reply, embracing him tightly. “Good! I already have all the stuff we need gathered, so we just have to start putting it all together now!” And with that, the demon is dragged into the nearby kitchen, where many ingredients are already out and waiting to be put to use, just like they said.

Satan looked at everything before turning to the other. “Are these all from the human world?” He questions curiously.

They nod at him. “Yep! I wanted to make some traditional holiday cookies from the human world, if that was okay?”

The blonde demon reaches over and brushes the back of his hand down the side of their face. “I’d love to. Please, teach me.” He gestures to everything in front of them. “I’ll hang on to every word you speak.”

It was MC’s turn to blush now, shaking their head at him. “Well, we better get to it, then.”

A few hours later, they had multiple dozens of both sugar cookies and gingerbread cookies, either cooling on racks or being actively decorated by both of them. Or, mostly just one of them, considering Satan couldn’t keep his eyes off of the human dancing around the kitchen and using a bag of icing as a microphone as they sang along to the human world Christmas carols filling the room.

They seemed so…free. And he found it absolutely mesmerizing. Do they really not know how enchanting they are? Who can focus on anything else when they’re here looking like that?

Satan thought he had been doing pretty well at attempting to focus on the task at hand, actually getting quite a few cookies done himself, but it seems his thoughts have caught up to him, as now he’s been caught red-handed, MC’s eyes locking with his as they turn back to their decorating station, a pretty blush lighting up their cheeks, which in turn causes the same reaction on his face. Well, too late to hide it now, he supposes.

Before he even realizes his feet are moving, he’s rounding the corner of the island and walking up to them, cradling their face and pulling them into a loving kiss. MC returns his kiss immediately, wrapping their arms around his neck. Satan sighs happily into the kiss, wrapping both arms around them and pulling them close. It’s MC who chooses to deepen the kiss and he’s all happy to oblige, feeling a sudden need to have them as close to him as possible. To feel all of them against him. And because of this rising need within him, all it takes is a playful nip to his bottom lip and he’s lost. He gathers his human up in his arms, their legs wrapping around him automatically, and quickly carries them out of the kitchen, heading straight for his room, the cookies long forgotten. No one will see either of them until the next day.

~*~

A/N: Satan, my love, please come romance me <3 Thank you all for reading!! See you for tomorrow's story!!

~*~

Taglist:

@dutifullyuniversallykingdom

@om-adventcalendar

Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!!

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

For the newly added Klee and Clara

Having there older sibling S/O person thing! Put on some charisma to try & bail them out of time out

(Genshin Impact/H:SR) Sibling!Reader trying to get Klee and Clara out of time out

"Retry the speech check, just reload and retry!" - The Russian Badger

Jean sighs as soon as she sees (Y/N) enter the room. Putting down her pen for a moment, she then looks at them approaching.

(Jean) "(Y/N)..."

(Y/N) "Master Jean! I am so sorry for the trouble Klee caused today!"

(Jean) "She knew the consequences when she decided to go blast fishing-"

(Y/N) bowed apologetically.

(Y/N) "It was my fault, Master Jean. There was something in the waters that spooked me, and she was only trying to help. I swear she didn't do it on purpose."

Jean watched their expression with close scrutiny before lowering her shoulders and giving a sympathetic look.

(Jean) "And you are telling me the truth?"

The sharp gaze of the Acting Grand Master made (Y/N) fidget.

(Y/N) "Yes, as embarrassing as it is..."

Jean walked over and put a hand on their shoulder.

(Jean) "I understand. You are a good older sister/brother for wanting Klee's situation cleared up."

(Y/N)'s expression suddenly beamed-

(Jean) "And as an older sibling myself, I know when another one is lying."

-And quickly reverted to fear.

(Jean) "(Y/N), you know the consequences."

...

Klee was sitting in "solitary", which was really just a relatively empty room inside the Knights' Headquarters, barring a few shelves, tables, and chairs.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and (Y/N) awkwardly walked in, with Jean behind them, arms crossed.

Klee jumped up in surprise, running up to her sibling.

(Klee) "Big bro/sis? What are you doing here?!"

(Y/N) "I uh...got put in time out as well."

(Jean) "You'll be able to come out when you think about what you have done wrong."

Jean gently closed the door, and both of them heard it lock, her footsteps slowly fading away.

(Klee) "Aw man, now we're both in big trouble..."

(Y/N) smiled as they knelt down to pat Klee's head.

(Y/N) "Don't worry, I have a backup plan."

They slowly reached into their pouch and pulled out a wrapped fish, charred to perfection from Klee's bombs.

Klee gasped as her eyes sparkled, looking at their brother/sister.

(Y/N) put a finger to their lips playfully.

(Y/N) "Not a word of this to Jean, got it?"

Klee nodded enthusiastically before the two shared their meal together.

Neither of them really learning their lesson, much to Jean's dismay.

A/N: Good luck with the speech check on THIS one, good lord.

Svarog stood stoically in front of a terminal, the light from his mono-eye gently pulsating.

Upon hearing (Y/N)'s footsteps, he turned around to face them.

(Svarog) "(Y/N). What is it?"

(Y/N) "Why is Clara in the corner?"

The light pulsated for a moment before turning around to the terminal once again, but still giving a reply.

(Svarog) "Clara has disobeyed a direct order to not eat the dessert before her dinner. Therefore, disciplinary protocols are in effect."

(Y/N) paused for a moment to remember what he was talking about.

(Y/N) "You mean the jar of cookies? It was only the one gone-"

(Svarog) "It does not change the fact it will ruin her appetite. Early sweets lead to fullness, which leads to food being wasted. Something that cannot be tolerated for someone of her age."

(Y/N) walked up to the terminal, giving puppy eyes to their robotic father figure.

(Svarog) "As the older sibling, you must not spoil Clara. Nor should I.-"

(Y/N) "It's just been a while since she got to have a cookie, Svarog. Surely you can remember that!"

His head slowly whirred to face (Y/N).

(Svarog) "My memory circuits are functioning normally. It has been twenty-seven days, eight hours, and fifty seven minutes since you and Clara have last had dessert.-"

(Y/N) "So that's why you can go a little easy on her! Clara didn't want to disobey you, but she was just having a craving! I promise she'll eat every last bite during dinner."

Svarog remained silent, barring the mechanical noises emitting from his body.

He turned completely to (Y/N), in what nearly sounded like a sigh from his gears moving.

(Svarog) "Your argument is...logical. Reducing disciplinary protocols, your presence is required."

(Y/N) smiled at that, following him outside the room to where Clara was standing quietly in the corner of their living room.

(Svarog) "Clara. You are permitted to leave time out."

Clara's head looked up in surprise before turning around and seeing her family, wiping one of her eyes.

(Clara) "I'm sorry, I won't do it again-"

(Svarog) "Do not apologize. My measures were...harsh for your actions."

(Y/N) "Next time you want to take a cookie before dinner, just ask either of us, okay?"

Clara looked at Svarog as he slowly knelt down and wiped away a tear gently with his mechanical hand.

(Svarog) "Your brother/sister is correct. Given permission, you will not be punished."

(Clara) "...T-Thank you!"

She gave Svarog a hug before running up and doing the same to her sibling.

Svarog watched silently, but both of them could tell he was at least happy to not see Clara sad.

(Svarog) "I must go back to monitoring the other humans outside the camp. Dinner will be prepared at 6:00 PM."

Svarog nodded and walked back into the control room, leaving the two alone.

(Clara) "Did...you convince Mr. Svarog to let me leave?"

(Y/N) ruffled her hair gently.

(Y/N) "Mhm. Just had to remind him that treating yourself won't spoil your dinner. Let's go out for a little bit until dinner so you can work up your appetite, alright?"

Clara smiled and nodded excitedly.

(Clara) "O-Okay!"

[roosterforme]

Here's a fluffy blurb for the nonny with the new Bronco neighbor. May you enjoy every happiness in life.

Ouchie

Bradley looked at his wife laying next to him in bed. Her hand was resting on his chest, and her lip was a little bit puffy from being overworked by his mustache, but she was smiling softly, eyes closed and lashes brushing her cheeks. 

"I'm still shocked that you agreed to go out with me, let alone marry me," he muttered, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "I must have looked like an idiot that first day we met."

Your soft laughter left him grinning as you ran your fingers through his chest hair. "No, you didn't look like an idiot. You were sweet."

Another uhaul truck. The cute little rental house across the street from yours seemed to have a new tenant every other month. As soon as you took a freshly baked treat over to meet your new neighbor, it felt like they were moving out again. Maybe this one would stay longer?

"Sweet Lord," you muttered when you set eyes on him. He was tinkering around under the hood of his vintage Ford Bronco on the driveway next to the uhaul, and he looked up to smile at you as you parked in your own driveway. You wouldn't mind if this one stuck around longer.

When you climbed out of your car, his soft eyes were still looking your way, and you saw that he had a mustache too. Well, you didn't have any fresh out of the oven chocolate chip cookies for him, but you definitely wanted to get a closer look.

"Hi," he called out with a smile that just made him look even more handsome, and he waved the wrench in his right hand in greeting.

"Hi," you replied, walking toward the street, and he looked so happy that you were coming his way. You felt giddy inside, and somehow your feet got tangled up at the curb. 

"Oh, no," you gasped, falling as if in slow motion. Your palms hit the pavement first followed by your knees. And yeah, the scrapes hurt, but the sting of mortification washed over you just as fast. You wanted to disappear and reappear in your bed which you were never going to leave again after this. Because your hot new neighbor was rushing over to get to you as you scrambled to your feet.

"Are you okay?" he asked, skidding to a halt in the middle of the street. Why was he stopping in the middle of the street? You looked down at your hands as the small cuts started to bleed, and you just held your palms up for him to see like some sort of weirdo.

"I'm fine," you replied sheepishly. But he winced and started your way again as a car pulled down the street. 

He slipped his wrench into the pocket of his jeans and reached for your hands. His thumb stroked gently along your wrist, and then he glanced up at you. "Ouchie."

And you couldn't help but smile at his sweet expression of concern. "Yeah. Ouchie."

Then he blushed, probably realizing what he had said, but he didn't stop stroking your wrist. "If it makes you feel any better, I actually hit myself in the face with my wrench earlier while trying to change my oil."

You laughed at that. "You know... that does somehow make me feel a little bit better." 

"I'm Bradley," he said, giving your wrist a little squeeze.

You told him your name and then asked, "Do you like chocolate chip cookies?"

"I like all cookies," he replied easily.

"Perfect," you said softly. "I always make some for my new neighbors. Maybe after I get my hands cleaned up, I'll bake them for you."

Bradley nodded once, gently lacing his fingers with yours, but still careful not to bump your palm at all. "Want me to give you a hand?"

"No," Bradley disagreed. "I looked like an idiot. The first thing I said to you was 'Ouchie'. Who even says that?"

You laughed and rolled on top of him. "That wasn't the first thing you said. It was like the second or third. And you were so sweet, and I was already mesmerized by your mustache, so it didn't really even matter."

"And then I almost burned down your kitchen."

You pressed your lips together to try to stifle your laughter. "Okay, yes. That's true."

"And you still agreed to go out to dinner with me," he said, kissing the tip of your nose.

"I sure did. There's just something about you." You slid up a little further and kissed his lips as you whispered, "Ouchie."

[lohotine]

https://www.tumblr.com/shmolish/746176844034981888/sick-shadow-milk-cookie-x-reader?source=share

One shot idea since I got a guess aaaaand I just wanna see your version but I'm curious if shadow milk would ACTUALLY be like this or no? If not I wanna see how he actually acts buuut just to show you my guess on what shadow milk is like:

Shadow milk when he is sick: lalala! I'm perfectly fine! Just cuddle me and I'll be okie dokie, darling! Hehehe! Never stop the fun! (Or short meme version: I sleep)

Shadow milk when y/n is sick: bed, soup, medicine, love, sleep, now! Can't have my beloved feeling all icky! No playtime, only naptime! Sleepytime! You get all the cuddles you want if it helps you sleep but no games, just relax and drink your soup! (Second part of meme version: real shit)

Tldr: shadow milk when he is sick treats it like a joke and a game and not serious...he stops treating illnesses like a joke the moment his s/o gets sick. Think he is gonna joke around when his s/o feels like shit? Nope, he is keeping his s/o relaxed and napping and constantly giving them their favorite soup until he is 100% sure the sickness is out of their system!

AN: I'm pretty sure both of you suggested similar things, which was a shadow milk cookie x sick reader. Been waiting to do this one!!

Shadow Milk Cookie x Sick! Reader

Oneshot (Headcanons below)

Warnings: (Kinda a part two to the sick shadow milk cookie, so some parts might be a little confusing.) One dirty joke 😔 (I couldn't resist, sry)

-Take Care-

"I just have to spend some time alone, haha. Nothing out of the ordinary!" You would say with an awkward smile.

Shadow Milk Cookie would look at you with an unbelieving look.

"Doll, you're not a very good liar," He'd say while crossing his arms.

"Come on, just- for like a few days?"

"A few days? How am I supposed to live without you for a few days when I can't even live without you for a few hours!?"

Shadow Milk Cookie would put a hand on his forehead, feigning a dramatic pose.

"But seriously. What's wrong?" He cupped your face and look at you with those concerned eyes.

The eyes you were in love with, and the eyes that you didn't want seeing your weak and sickly state.

Your face was was much warmer than usual, but he didn't think much of it.

"Ah, could it be-? You just don't like my company!"

"No! It's not that!" You would refute quickly, backing away from him.

"Then what's wrong? Come on dove, you know you can tell me anything."

You sneezed shortly after that, but didn't say anything.

Everything clicked in that moment for Shadow Milk Cookie.

"Oh. My. Goodness. YOU'RE SICK! I'VE GOTTEN MY BELOVED DOVE SICK!"

He would instantly start panicking, beginning to look around the house for different types of medicine and other things that might come in handy.

"It's not really that bad- I can take care of myself..."

He would pick you up bridal style and take you to a couch, wrapping blankets around you.

"My little doll shouldn't need to lift a finger while they're sick. Please, allow your favorite jester to do the work for you!"

He kept digging through cabinets for medicine and ingredients for a soup he'd eventually end up making.

"How come you're taking my sickness so seriously when you didn't even take care of yourself last time?"

He came back with a bunch of ice packs, like.. twenty of them. You didn't even own twenty ice packs.

"Why wouldn't I take your illness seriously? I must make sure that you are safe and happy at all times, and I can't do that if you feel icky."

He offered one of the icepacks to you, which you accepted and just held for a while.

"I don't need this many ice packs, Milk," you would tell him.

"You can never be too sure! And of course, I offer my 200% when it comes to my most beloved."

"I don't even own this many ice packs."

"Now you do! ...Don't look into it that much."

He skipped off to the kitchen again, looking as cheerful as ever.

Of course, it was just a facade. Internally, he was panicking. He barely knew how to care for himself, and now you were sick. What if you died?! Okay, he was probably overreacting, but normal cookies are so fragile. That's why he had to do everything in his power to keep you healthy.

He didn't know what was and wasn't needed, so he just took a lot of everything.

Came back with one of each medicine type that you owned.

"So uh, which one is the one you need?"

You pointed to one of the bottles, and Shadow Milk swiftly measured the correct dosage.

"Alright, so I got you an ice pack, blankets, and you took medicine. What else do you people do while sick?" He would ask while putting a hand on his chin.

"I don't know. Normally they eat soup," you told him.

"That's right! You are so smart, button. Alright, I'll do just that, then." He gave you a kiss on the forehead before wandering off into the kitchen.

Did he even know how to cook? You've never seen him try before, but he's lived for so long, that surely he knew how to... right?

Oh well, he did eventually end up coming back with the food. It actually ended up looking edible.

"Ta-da~ It looks amazing, right? Of course it does! It was made my yours truly." He sat down on the couch next to you, scooping up some soup in a spoon.

"Now, say 'ah'" He held the spoon infront of your mouth, waiting to feed you.

"I'm not doing that."

"Yes you are. Now open your mouth before I shove the spoon down your throat."

"You can shove something else down my throat."

"Haha, very funny. But maybe when you're feeling better~"

Eventually, after a lot of back and forth, you ended up finishing the soup. It wasn't half bad, actually.

Now, the both of you were cuddling on the couch. A movie was playing in the background, and Shadow Milk Cookie was resting his head in your lap.

"Doll, how come you didn't tell me you were sick sooner?" He would ask.

"I just didn't want to be a burden, I suppose."

"You would never be a burden to me. There's a reason I treat you so much better than the others, and it's because I care for you. I know I'm all about deceit and stuff, but this is the honest truth, okay darling?"

You couldn't help the smile on your face. "Okay."

《☆》 Fin

Headcanons

He's panicking 24/7

Even if you tell him you don't want to get him sick, he says he doesn't care

Everything has to be ready for you, and you have to be comfortable

Absolutely no chance of you going out that day

Legit coddles you or is always near you

Even if it's just a small cough, he's canceling all of the things you have that day

Bro is so paranoid

If you're ever bored he performs small puppet shows for you

Makes you go to bed early

[chronicbeans]

Wally and a Puppeteer Reader (part 3)

My brain has gone on with this idea and I love where it is going. Yippee!

TW: Obsessive Behavior, Stalking, Scopophobia/Eye Imagery, Idol Worshipping

🎥 This has gone on long enough! In just a few weeks since that interview, the letters and pictures have increased tenfold! You keep finding Wally in the oddest of places, like on your desk, in the lounge, or even next to your locker. It constantly feels like eyes are watching you.

🎥 Even the contents of the letters are getting stranger. They were always odd and creepy, but at least before they had lighthearted words in them. Now they're saying things like "You're the air I breathe and all I see. You make my days better or worse. You keep me warm and keep this neighborhood bright! Please, never abandon me!" It's all written in that messy crayon writing, too, which makes an eerie contrast to the words that makes you sick. It seems so childishly unaware of how disturbing the words are when thought about for too long.

🎥 The drawings aren't much better. Nine out of ten times, they include you in some way. From the pictures just including you, including you and the characters from Welcome Home, to - worst of all, in your opinion - you in real life places. You sitting at your desk. You sleeping in the lounge. You getting a cookie at the snack stand during the interview. There's even one of you putting on your coat at the lockers. The drawings may not be the highest quality, but they are detailed enough to both be recognizable places and to alarm you.

🎥 You have an idea of who it might be. It's gotta be Wally's voice actor. They were his puppeteer before their arthritis kicked in. They just couldn't move their hands enough to properly puppet him anymore, always complaining that it hurt, despite the medications they took. But, the producer did decide to keep them as Wally's voice actor, saying that nobody could replicate his distinct laughter, tone of speech, and voice pitch. Despite this, Wally's voice actor was properly ticked and hated the fact they were replaced. They're always acting passive aggressive towards you. It must be them, probably to try to scare you away.

🎥 Today, you have decided to confront them. Marching over to their recording booth, you knock on the door. When they open it, they have that signature glare that would put even Frank's to shame. Before they can even ask what you want, you tell them all about what has been going on and how you know they have been doing it. They have to be behind it. All of these drawings and letters have Wally's signature writing and art style. The only person that knows Wally more than you is his voice actor. It HAS to be them!

🎥 They grow silent, before looking at the pictures and letters. Then, they look up at you and say, in the most matter of fact tone "I haven't been able to draw or write anything in character for a YEAR, (Y/N). What makes you think I would put myself through the pain of trying to replicate it after all this time, with my horrible joints, just to frighten YOU, of all people? You aren't worth my time, much less my comfort. You got any other evidence to accuse me of this... Whatever this is?"

🎥 You grow silent. To be honest, thinking back on it, it really is a stupid idea that they would do all of this to scare you. If they couldn't even muster up the energy to go out of their way to verbally confront you, then it would be shocking for them to put the effort to write and draw things to do so. You still have one more question, though...

🎥"What about the voice I've been hearing? It sounds just like Wally. You are his voice actor. You have gotta know something."

🎥 Their eyes grow wide. Then, they shrug "The one that has been saying things about... well, something. It's always a bit too muffled to hear exactly what it is. I thought you somehow improved your Wally impression and were practicing in order to replace me completely. Your impression may be off enough for the producers to care, but it was always the best one here. You're telling me you aren't the one making that voice?"