#first one i thought of was chocolate chips oops

[sepdet]

oh no this is too much fun

Frulienne Jais

Oached Peg

Seg Op Droop

Rack Bibs

Tahi Una

Smoot Froothie

Coot Frake

Beat Mauls

Eelcut Stoats

Sanana Blit

Legan Veganya

Surtle Toup

Keach Pobbler

Stew Nork Yake

Jape Grello

Nig Fewtons

[txtmetonight]

The Lovers of Auradon

call summary ⋆ ★ Jake is the upcoming king of Auradon

or Jake as King Ben

pairing *. * Jake x Fem! Reader

genre⋆ ★ Fluff, Angst, Crack

warnings *. * Headcanon format, crude language, basically copied the plot of the movie except changed the characters lol, bad grammar

call duration⋆ ★ 1.7k

a/n*. * Jake as King Ben was giving me such a big brain rot, I felt like I was melting from the inside out oml. Also, I watched a 15-minute recap on the movies just in case but I'm also really lazy so I think I may or may not have accidentally left out some details. Oops.

taglist ⋆ ★  @kflixnet

✭ Upcoming King Jake! who lives a perfect life in Auradon. The very handsome son of the beauty and the beast, he was truly a sight to see, with pure flawlessness 

✭ He’s such a pretty thing and lucky guy yet so humble that no one has it in their hearts to hate the guy

✭ Upcoming King Jake! decides that the Isle of the Lost deserves a chance because it’s the right thing to do, and whatever the young prince demands, it happens in a snap of a fingers 

✭ And so here you are with your three other friends, the group known as the lucky four 

✭ Yet no one knew that after much fight with your mother; maleficent, you four had come on a mission to steal the fairy godmother’s wand, to truly prove how evil you could be 

✭ The candy in the fucking limo amazed your eyes, but you would never tell anyone that as you roll up to the awaited castle, eyes sparkling in amazement that you try not to show

✭ Upcoming King Jake! who falls in love with you at first sight; you’re so stunning that he can’t speak, and all he can do is stare at you, which you find weird but brush off–the residents of this island must be a kind of unusual 

✭ Plus, you can’t be distracted by his good-looking features! You’re here to make your mother proud by stealing that damn wand that she insists on! 

✭ Heeseung, the son of Cruella, Yunjin the daughter of the evil queen, and Beomgyu the son of Jafar all accompany you into the castle, ready to cause much trouble that was needed...though you all knew that deep inside your hearts the real truth 

✭ Upcoming King Jake! who can’t stop asking about you or rather even stop talking about you. You’re all that he thinks about, and he finds it in him to befriend you–and it’s not just because of that funny feeling in his stomach that flutters every time he talks to you.  

✭ Yunjin thinks it’s cute, but you find it quite annoying, and now diverting as you all just had failed to grasp the wand in your sly hands, and now you must create a new plan from now on 

✭ Which is quickly formulated once Yunjin herself–a girl of gossip comes forward with new details that the wand was going to be next to the beauty and the beast and their lovely son, during his coronation  

✭ And the most important part–whoever his girl would be for that night, stand right next to them too and next to that wand

✭ Heeseung warns you not to follow through with whatever you were thinking and Beomgyu quickly nods right after, but what would they know, they’ve been enjoying this stupid lifestyle while you wither away in the fear of your cruel mother! 

✭ Though recently you’ve found yourself being plagued with Upcoming King Jake! in your dreams–the way that he smiles brightly or the twinkling in his gorgeous eyes... 

✭ You shake your head of the thoughts and stand your foot on your plan with a wicked grin, cause who were you if you didn’t shake a bit of trouble 

✭ “(Y/n) you can’t seduce Jake like that! He’s too nice to be part of your fucking scheme! Is there really nothing else?” 

✭ “Nada” And with that, you skip down to the kitchen to bake a batch of chocolate chip cookies, ones filled with a love spell that would enchant the prince to fall in love with you 

✭ But only if you knew that the cookies were unnecessary and that he was already head over heels in love with you, and would’ve done anything in a heartbeat for you 

✭ Ho-Hum

✭ Upcoming King Jake! soon announces his love for you at a game, half fueled by the magic in the food he consumed and the other half his true feelings of love for you, and you think that you feel your heart skip a beat for a second 

✭ You don’t notice the heavy blush that slathers your face, but the other three definitely do, and they snicker in silence 

✭ The first date he takes you on, you realize your mistake; you’ve fallen in love with the young prince 

✭ The way that he looks at you like you held the whole world, the way that he holds you with the most utmost gentle care as though your mother hadn’t committed the largest heinous crimes known, the way that he doesn’t even acknowledge your stupid fucking parents really hits the home run for you 

✭ With him, you’re just (Y/n) (L/n), not the daughter of maleficent, or some kind of evil girl, you’re just a young woman in love with Sim Jaeyun 

✭ He speaks to you through the silence of your own words, his fingers slowly wrapping around yours while he guides you through a lake...and for the first time in a long time, you let a genuine laugh leave your mouth 

✭ Upcoming King Jake! decides that your giggle is gonna be the tune he better hear when he enters heaven and that you look so fucking good with your hair slathered back wet droplets slithering down your face 

✭ He’s liked you forever and he won’t ever let you go he also concludes 

✭ While you're in distress in your dorm, crying your poor eyes out to Yunjin, sobbing about your shocking revelation that she pretends to be surprised to be about 

✭ Everyone could see it from a distance away about how much you really pretended to dislike the prince  

✭ You feel so guilty for charming Upcoming King Jake! like that and you come to a decision to make an antidote for him after the coronation  

✭ And possibly run away and never turn back again–you’re afraid that staying with your ‘lover’ could potentially drag you through a deeper rabbit hole 

✭ Dates after date, you learn more about your boyfriend with wide eyes that can’t help but flit to his very tempting lips occasionally 

✭ -Anyways coronation doesn’t take long to arrive and before you know it, you’re being fitted into an alluring (sexy) dress with colors that make you pop and a shape that really brings out your figure–Yunjin truly knows you well 

✭ The other two boys–your boys take hip hip hooray at you, and you carefully smile at them, hugging them the moment they get close, you’ve missed them 

✭ They lead you down the winding hallways where the other students cheer in delight and envy at you. Streamers of gold and blue trail down the walls, there are balloons everywhere and couples dance at the ball music that echoes outside in the open 

✭ “Fuck you’re so pretty, I think I’m gonna hurl” 

✭ Those are the first words of Upcoming King Jake! utters to you, whimpering when you take his hand so he can assist you into the pearly carriage, grip snaking to your waist to make sure that you didn’t trip–or at least that was his excuse, you just knew that he wanted to feel you up 

✭ “And you’re so handsome, and I’m gonna faint” You gulp, absolutely enamored with Sim Jaeyun, fixing his crown as you try not to kiss him...maybe it’s time to tell him the truth 

✭ “I–Jake I’m so sorry, but I’ve put something in those cookies I gave you in the beginning of our relationship. You’re not actually in love with me”  

✭ You shove the antidote snacks right into his mouth just after, afraid of his response while you well up with silent tears that you try to wipe away discreetly 

✭ But the translucent drops on your face are caught softly with cradling arms that turn your reddening face to the side 

✭ Nothing in the world mattered to you two, just all you saw was each other and the sparks that flew when King Jake! closes the gap between your lips, so soft and warm your head is going fuzzy...omg 

✭ You just kissed Jaeyun...no he kissed you but why? 

✭ It seems as though he can read your mind because he quickly answers you, nuzzling his nose against your cheeks 

✭ “I know you put that stupid spell on me. It washed away after our first date when we took a dip in the enchanted lake, but I’ve always liked you–since the very beginning when I first laid my eyes on you.

✭ You believe that you’re about to melt from his intense gaze, so what’s the best next thing to do? 

✭ Kiss your lover once more on the lips 

✭ Too bad your evil mother has stopped your carriage midway, grabbing the wand from Yuna the fairy godmother’s daughter who had just gone rogue from anger 

✭ And too bad it’s up to you to stop your mother from her rage, so you step out of the vehicle, magic thrumming deep in your veins as you battle your mother 

✭ In that moment two crucial events take place; one you settle to be good and two, King Jake! thinks you’re really fucking hot when you’re angry and fighting your parent 

✭ Blah Blah Blah, in the end, you drive that wretched woman away by turning her into a lizard and everyone cheers in joy–you’ve just saved the kingdom! 

✭ And guess what? King Jake! just fell more in love with you as he tumbles out of the carriage, pulling you into a tight hug, in front of his parents the crown on his head slipping which you fix, landing a kiss on his cheek 

✭ King/Boyfriend Jake! thinks that vexation looks good, but happiness looks so much better with that gorgeous smile that you throw at him...gosh he’s actually about to hurl because of you  

✭ He can’t stop kissing you and luckily you don’t think you mind 

And so, if happily ever after did actually exist, you and King Jake! wouldn’t have broken up because of your urge to be evil once more, but luckily fate drew breath instead. So he searched for you, because his hearty truly couldn't let you go. He soon learned the ropes of being evil and got almost fucking died because of a few pirates...arghh and then got seduced for the second time! Which you save him from with a true love's kiss, and then he watches you fight again, and for some reason finding you in your element is really stupidly kind of sexy for him.  

And that’s why he asks you to marry him outside with a bunch of people watching, kissing you deeply when you accept the ring.  

The end.  

[tanith-rhea]

ello!!!! may I request some sort of coffee shop au with Miranda and female reader? Either we work there and she's the customer who always brightens our day, or we just continue to run into (not necessarily literally, but also what is some spilled coffee if we get Miranda in exchange?) each other all the time? It's really up to you, I'm just asking for some cozy coffee romance :) <3 tysmmm!

Coffee, tea, or could I offer you me?

Working at a coffee shop wasn’t nearly as quaint and romantic as the books you’d read while growing up described. However, instead of accepting the dull reality and focusing on working to pay for college, you decided to make a difference, and be the cupid of the establishment. If you couldn’t live your coffee shop romance, you would help other people do so. That was before you witnessed the most beautiful girl you’d ever seen get stood up by her date.

Word count: 7.1k (oops)

As the cupid of the Rainbow Roast Café, your life mission was to provide ordinary people with the ristretto-like love experience of their life. Or at least give clients a funny story to tell their grandchildren one day.

Your co-worker Maggy had even a bet going on that you would pair off at least one more duo or group of individuals until the end of the month, to which Dave — your other co-worker — betted against, saying you had already struck twice this month and it was virtually impossible for you to get another success in just ten days.

You didn’t see it as a competition though. It was the closest you thought you could get to experiencing a coffee shop romance. Patrons who flirted with you often acted like creeps and it was very rare for one of them to be a woman. So, you decided that giving other people the chance at a nice and soft meet cute and possible love story was your best shot.

At first, you thought it would be a horrible breach of boundaries to tell a client that you saw someone eyeing them from the other side of the café, so you kept your cool and inwardly itched watching people nurturing crushes and not telling the other person about it. Until the day of your breaking point.

There was this girl that always came at eight-twenty and ordered a white chocolate mocha. She had a favourite table by the windows to the side and near the back, and she sat there every day without fail to people-watch and write in a journal-like notebook. That was until a month in on your job, another person arrived at eight and ordered a simple iced and bee-lined to the very table.

When the girl got her order that morning, she was stuck for a bit, watching the intruder of her sacred spot. You thought she felt pestered at having to choose another seat, but over the next few days it kept happening, and the looks she shot at the brooding figure at her table started to appear more like pining than cursing.

You, being nosy and lacking several social filters, approached her on a slow day with the biggest double chocolate chip cookie you could find and tried to strike up a conversation. She turned out to be just as nice as you thought she was, and two days later you finally asked if she liked the mysterious customer at her former table. She timidly admitted to having a crush and asked you to keep quiet about it. The next day you wrote into their cup about the cute girl in a cardigan and how she thought they looked cool.

Lysa and Rae are still customers, but they sit at the same table for four months now.

The following ones were easier. You would write in a piece that customer x told you they liked customer y and see where things went. You always befriended the customer first and then offered to help, and when they said yes you felt over-the-roof-happy. You were always social, but you never thought you’d have such an enormous amount of friends, all of whom were dating while you were still painfully single. It was nice though.

Everything was going great that particular day at the café. Andre had paid a visit to get Mina her usual smoked latte before class and invited you to a movie night at the weekend in her dorm. You had bonded with Mina through your shared guilty pleasure of watching cheesy love triangle dramas when you were sad, and her taste in movies was as close to yours as that of a soul buddy. You wished you had attended uni with them, it would have been so much fun.

But, however good the day was, there was still time for that to change. An hour before the end of your shift, a stupefying figure entered the coffee shop. A woman, so tall she could reach the 8’3 door head if she raised her hand, walked in and settled at one of the front window seats. Judging by her slightly nervous aura, you assumed she was waiting for a date.

There wasn’t much movement that time in the afternoon. Most people were working and the few customers around already had their orders, so you decided to go ask the recent arrival if she wanted something while she waited.

Getting closer, you noticed her whitish-blond hair looked very soft, as did her milky skin and overall presence. If it wasn’t for her height, you could say she would look very plain or unremarkable. A white woman, with blond hair and average proportions. That was before you rounded a table and saw her closer from the front. She had a very remarkable face. It was a combination of gentle eyebrows, high cheekbones and a sharp jawline that somehow managed to not be threatening but disarmingly inviting.

“Excuse me,” you cleared your throat, hoping you didn’t sound as breathless as you felt, “Would you like to order?”

When she looked up from her phone, bright pools of arctic blue glued you to where you stood. If you walked, you were quite sure your legs would give out. She was nothing but exquisite, and suddenly you wished she was waiting for you, and that just this once you were the protagonist of the story.

“I’m sorry?” she prompted, and her voice, for everything that is good in the world, her voice sent chills through your skin even though it was an unusually hot autumn day.

“I just asked if you would like to order something.” You took out your notepad for something to look at other than the gorgeous stranger. “I can bring you something while you wait for…” it was quite shameless, but of course, you were fishing for information, “whatever you are waiting for,” you hoped she wouldn’t feel offended by your less-than-professional approach.

“I’m just waiting for a friend.” She gave you a small, timid smile, and gazed at the table, confirming she very much wasn’t waiting for a friend. “He won’t take long, so I’ll order when he arrives.”

You only nodded, instantaneously slaughtered of all hope and happiness at the kind dismissal. You returned to your place behind the counter and started cleaning already clean coffee machines and the spotless counter.

She was waiting for a he. Of course, that didn’t mean she was straight, and she was so beautiful you’d feel personally attacked if she was. Maggy noticed your state and tsked from the kitchen door.

“What is it? Someone didn’t want to chat?” you usually felt disappointed when some people gave you hints they wanted to be left alone. You wouldn’t annoy a customer for the life of you, but it did make you pout.

When she approached the counter to look at you, however, her eyebrow arched, and a smug smirk twisted her face.

“Ooh, am I seeing a rejected puppy?” her pretentious tone made your lips twitch. She was teasing you, but you wouldn't give her the satisfaction of making you laugh.

"Not rejected. You know I don't flirt with clients, it's creepy enough when they do it to me."

"Oh, so what would you call it then? Friendly banter?" you snorted ungracefully. It was true you were comfortable with teasing, flirting and sometimes even catcalling your friends. What could you say? You loved embarrassing and complimenting them, it was just the perfect means.

"Yes, friendly banter. Not everyone is smoking hot like you to be able to flirt and be taken seriously, you know," you arched an eyebrow and she threw a napkin at you.

"You're impossible!" she kissed you on the cheek before returning to the kitchen for more goods.

Half an hour had passed and the woman's date still hadn't arrived. You pondered going back there and offering something again, but you imagined she'd feel uncomfortable with you noticing she was possibly being stood up. Your bones hurt with the want to go strike up a conversation and distract her from the douchebag that was making her wait, but at the same time, your heart raced in panic at the thought of talking to her.

It was some time since you'd had a crush on a person. Even being a hopeless romantic, you didn't have many opportunities to find anyone attractive in your day-to-day life. You lived close to the campus, so taking the subway to work wasn't necessary. You spent your day at the coffee shop and it always felt like breaching an unspoken rule to fancy a client (even though you admitted some were very aesthetically pleasing), and all your friends were spoken for and their friends were usually on college so a few years younger and that didn't do it for you. So it was very curious to finally feel it again, and for a client to make matters worse.

"Ok, stop ogling her, you'll bore a hole on her neck like this" Maggy mused, bringing the rest of the pastries.

You let out a defeated breath. "You're right, I have work to do and no time for this kind of thing."

"Woah there, you seem to have thought a lot of things in the five minutes it took me to get back, huh?"

You did, and she might not have the knowledge of what went on in your head, but you knew she understood your conclusion. How did she come to know you so well was beyond you, but you guessed five months of friendship and almost uninterrupted proximity did that.

"You know it's not for me." You shrugged and noting she was about to object you excused yourself saying you'd get more excelsa beans.

When your shift was close to end, the woman was still there. She wasn't waiting anymore, you noticed. She was idly taking notes on a small pad and listening to music. She didn't look too affected by the guy not showing up. Maybe she suspected it would happen, or it wasn't the first time, you didn't know but her nonchalance about it made your chest tighten.

Before you could change your mind, you chose one of the biggest triple chocolate ganache palm-sized cookies from the display case and prepared an iced vanilla latte to go. You put the two in a paper tray and fake-power-walked to her, willing yourself to feel the smallest amount of confidence. You were the chatty one of the group, why was it so difficult to act normal with her too?

"Hey, hello..." great start, "Ahem, my shift is almost ending and since I couldn't help you earlier with your order I thought I would bring this to you." You smiled and were almost sure you did ok.

Until she looked up from her notepad with shimmery eyes, and your smile fell. She had not been so nonchalant then.

"Oh, I'm sorry, do I have to order to stay here?" she seemed confused while looking between you and the tray you placed in front of her.

"No! No, I just thought you'd like something sweet," you were nervous like you haven't been for a long time, "I don't know... you just seemed like the type..."

"That likes sweets?" her small voice made sent shivers through your arms, she sounded so fragile, looking at your offer with something akin to wonder.

"Yes. Sorry. When you work here for a while you pick up on these things. If you don't though, I can take it back-"

"No!" she interrupted you, briskly circling a hand to your pulse when you made it to take the tray away and looked at you with a bewildered expression. "Sorry! I do like sweets." She let you go as rapidly as she touched you, chest flaring red, she avoided your eyes and cleared her throat. "Thank you, it is very nice of you," with that, she smiled, almost beamed, and you could only nod and get the hell away from her as fast as you could.

While desperately changing into your own clothes, you jumped at the sound of Dave entering the locker room.

"Shit, sorry!" he exclaimed, looking at you from head to toe. He was a quieter friend, but very perceptive, "So Maggy wasn't joking," he smiled.

"Please, not you too."

He laughed, "I won't tease you for being human. Everyone has a crush from time to time."

"Shut up! I don't have a crush." You finished tying your shoe. "And even if I do, she's probably straight or has a boyfriend."

"So you thought about it."

"SHUT UP!" you couldn't help but laugh and as you closed the back door to the alley you heard him laughing too.

You didn't pay too much mind to your thoughts of the beautiful stranger in the following days. She would likely never go back to the shop and if she did it would take a while and your attraction would have died down.

When she came not three days after, you cursed and ran to the kitchen.

"What are you doing, we need you outside," Maggy furrowed her brow softly.

"Could you please go there for a few minutes? I can finish icing," you pleaded, already taking the bag from her hand; she gave you a strange look but said fine.

Not a moment after she entered the kitchen again with a pleased smile. "Y/n you insufferably adorable idiot, go back out there and serve your customer!" she pointed at the door, and you made a show of slumping your shoulders and pouting while you made your way out front.

The woman was at the counter, she had a light frown, as if a bit confused with something, and startled when you said, "Good morning, how may I serve you?" in your best impression of a customer-service-friendly tone.

"Oh! Hi," she beamed at you, "Nice seeing you again!" Fuck she was gorgeous, "I would like the drink you gave me the other time, I really liked it."

You didn't know if the swell of pride in your ribcage was for being such a kick-ass barista or because of the happiness on her face from your accurate assumption.

"Coming right up!" you started making her drink, pleased with yourself, "Will you want anything to eat, as well?"

"No, if I do my co-workers will want it too," she chuckled and you got a to-go cup. When you handed it to her, she looked puzzled. "How did you know...?"

"The time," you filled in when she didn't elaborate, "Lots of people come before work and the ones that stay are usually students."

She hummed, eyebrows going up with a soft smile, "What about elders?" she handed you payment, exact change with an extra A$2,00 coin. Hot and a good tipper? This woman has no shame.

"We have only one couple and they come a bit later in the day," you smiled, accepting the money.

"Well, thank you then," she awkwardly lifted the cup and gave you one last, sheepish smile, before leaving.

You were so very screwed.

She kept coming. Day after day, she came in at the same hour and asked for the same drink. You offered some variations a few times, but she always went back to the first you made her. You stopped pretending you weren't smug for getting it so right.

Today was raining softly, autumn was settling in finally and cold afternoons were now a guarantee rather than a wish. You heard the doorbell and looked up to see Mina skipping to the counter with a scarf-hidden smile. Her nose was rosy as well as her cheeks which turned her eyes into thin joyful lines.

"Hey, lover! I missed you this weekend." She fake-pouted and you began making her usual.

"Sorry, I worked Dave's shift on Saturday and forgot to let you know."

"It's fine, but only if you go to the next one. If you don't, I'll stop being your friend!" she joked, sitting on one of the stools to watch you make her drink.

"Ok, dear 8-year-old cousin," she laughed and you changed topics to what movies they watched and how you regretted losing Toni's shock-filled eyes at New Moon's 'hot vampire royalty' as Mina said he put it. For someone who said they hated Twilight, you were happy for their growth.

After some more gossip, Mina grabbed her coffee and fled to class with a kiss on your cheek.

It was past mid-afternoon; your shift was slowly nearing its end and you were grateful for bringing an umbrella. It would probably be still raining when you got out.

When she walked through the door half an hour later, though, you wished you had more time. Her hair was a bit damp, and she had a sports jacket on. Maybe she left work around that hour because it was close to the one, she came to the shop the first time.

Try not to be a stalker, you weirdo, you thought to yourself while she approached.

"Hello there," she had her usual easy smile on. So beautiful.

"Hey, what will it be?" you could almost act normal now, the result of prolonged exposure, you assumed.

"You know," she shrugged, leaning on the counter lazily.

You started preparing her drink with a small smile and Maggy shook her head at you, rolling her eyes dramatically before leaving for the kitchen. She had nothing to do in there anymore.

"Tough day at work?"

"Oh, the usual. Paperwork mostly, it's been a while since there's been any excitement." She shrugged, but soon fixed her posture and shook her head frowning. "Not that I want anything to happen. If paperwork is the price, it's fine by me."

Curious comment. You didn't know what she did, you realized you didn't even know her name. You fantasized about leaning over the counter and kissing her silly but could not say who she was. How could it be that through an entire week, you hadn't even caught her name; usually it took you one conversation and the next you would set her up with someone from the shop. Of course, you weren't inclined to do that with her particularly, because of reasons.... but it was rather odd.

"Sorry, I don't think I ever asked your name," you turned to place her order on the counter, not on a to-go cup this time.

"Oh my god, that's true! I only know yours from your tag, it never crossed my mind I didn't have mine on!"

So her work requires wearing tags... Fuck, I'm a creep.

"I'm Miranda." She extended her hand for you to shake, it was just as soft as it looked. You imagined what being caressed by it would feel like... or a massage... or other things.

Shaking your head, you leaned to kiss her hand, rather than shake it. Out of your control, really. You simply could not lose the opportunity.

She looked to the floor, biting her smile. You could not see the red in her chest this time, but her ears were blazing.

"I'll just-" she took the cup, looking at you and rapidly away again, "Thank you. I'll go sit now." You only nodded, amused and slightly euphoric but trying to keep it down, as you saw her go.

She sat on one of the front window tables, leaning on her elbow and pointedly looking at the rain.

Two days passed after that. It was almost the end of the month, and you didn't even find another potential couple to help. You were too busy daydreaming on the job to pay attention to the customers. Maggy would lose her bet, the poor baby.

It was the middle of your shift, so it took you by surprise when you saw the blond owner of your thoughts walking in.

“Hey!” Miranda approached the counter, her smile making quick work of warming your whole being. She was the best part of your day no matter what happened. You thought seeing her smile at you was worth more than winning the lottery. You could live without the money any day.

“Hello, there,” you smiled back, with your usual cheekiness. “Your usual, I presume?” You were almost beginning her latte when she interrupted you.

“No! No, today I’ll be having a cold brew and an espresso. Robin needs her caffeine.” At that, she pointed at a brunette walking slowly in. She looked waspish and you could easily believe she was one of those people who were very grumpy before their first cup of coffee. “I’m her partner,” she leant over the counter and whispered to you like it was an exciting secret. She looked so proud you felt nauseous.

So she had a partner; a week after being stood up. It was understandable, she was a smoke show, funny and adorable all at once. How could she not have a mile-long line of people waiting for a chance? It still disappointed you that you weren’t the choice.

“Do you want me to grind?” you asked, absentmindedly leaning down to search for the good beans. At the silence, you turned to see her. She was turning red very fast, then you realised what you said and almost dropped the bean’s package on the floor, “The beans! Do you want me to grind the beans? You know… so the shots are nice and fresh.” Jesus, good one.

“Yes…” she gazed at the floor for a second and shook her head before looking back at you. “Sorry, I was just distracted… by stuff…" she pressed her lips in a thin line and looked in any other direction than yours. “I’ll just- I’ll just sit there.”

And off she was.

“Could you be less of a flirt? Not everyone can pull girls like a magnet and it’s offensive,” your co-worker’s voice woke you from your trance. Maggy was coming with a tray of fresh cakes.

“Shut up… it was her.” You tried to recompose yourself, your week’s worth of daydreams turning sour as you saw her walk to the back table where her “partner” was. Miranda liked the front window, why did that woman seat in the only corner with no view of the street and the farthest possible from the door?

“Ooh, so you’re finally admitting it.” She began to arrange the sweets in flower-like patterns on the display case, still smiling to herself.

“You only listened to my screw-up. She has a girlfriend,” you didn’t mean to sound so snippy, but you felt angry tears forming in your eyes and couldn’t stop tapping your left foot faster and faster.

Maggy noticed it in your tense posture and tight face, and before you knew it she was shoving you into the kitchen and asking Dave to cover outside.

Incredible. Just magnificent. She had a girlfriend, because of course she did, and you foolishly invested time and hope planning to ask her out and imagining all the stupid little dates you wanted to take her to and all the stupid little things you would do to make her smile. Great.

“Hey, come here…” Mag’s voice was no more than a whisper, bringing you to her chest while you very pointedly didn’t cry.

Your chest was rising and falling erratically with your half-swallowed sobs and your face hurt from all the muscles you strained to keep from letting it all out.

Maggy knew you wouldn’t cry. You were too stubborn for that, too chagrined with yourself to allow release. After less than a minute, you pushed yourself out of her arms, face sullen and voice hoarse.

“They ordered a cold brew and an expresso. I feel suddenly sick, can I go home?” you didn’t feel sick, she knew it too, but she only said:

“Yeah… yeah, I’ll cover for you.”

You nodded, never meeting her eyes, perpetually looking at the ground as you walked to the staff changing rooms and then home.

While walking home that afternoon, you caught the rain. You’d seen the weather report, but you left in such a hurry that you forgot your umbrella and didn't feel like going back to get it.

You got actually sick. The next morning you woke up sweating, feeling every muscle in your body hurting. It was nine, so you were already late. You called your boss to tell him you had a fever and he said Mag had already told him you didn’t feel very well the day before. He gave you the weekend off and ended with a kind “get better soon”; he was a nice boss.

You spent said weekend in bed. When you felt less horrible you took a shower and changed the sheets, prepared some soup and ate on the sofa while watching the news.

Apparently, there was a gang targeting young girls from the university near the Rainbow. All the police could tell at the moment was that they were being abducted after hours when leaving the campus for a night out. What they did to them after was a mystery you felt like throwing up just thinking about. You texted Mina to know if the group was safe; they were, but also very scared.

“The police detective in charge of the case, Robin Griffin, couldn’t disclose any more information,” the anchor’s voice sounded while a picture of a sulking brunette appeared on your screen.

It was her: Miranda’s partner. A police detective of all things.

Of course, Miranda would date some mysterious, grumpy detective that fought for the innocent and had a secret soft side she never showed anyone except for Miranda. It was the perfect ray of sunshine/rainy cloud couple half of the young adult fantasies had.

You wondered what Miranda did for work. You shouldn't be thinking about her, but you couldn't help it. All you knew was that she used a tag, and that didn't reduce your options all that much. You had to get her out of your brain.

After finishing eating and taking another shower, you went to bed early to get some healthy twelve hours of sleep before returning to work. With any luck, Miranda wouldn't come so soon.

You weren't very lucky, as proven by the relationship status of the person you madly wanted.

Miranda came again the next morning, accompanied by her detective girlfriend, Robin Griffin.

"Morning!" she was cherry as all the other times she greeted you but now it caused you physical pain to see her smile and attribute her happiness to the sulking jackass at the back booth.

Maybe you were being too harsh if Miranda was dating the woman she had probably a reason but you chose to ignore it as an outlet for all your negative thoughts and feelings.

"Good morning, how may I serve you today?" you said in a practised monotone, customer smile on your face.

A little line formed between her eyebrows and your fingers itched to smooth it away.

"Hum, I'll accept a suggestion today." she observed herself drum her fingers on the counter, "And Robin wants a cold brew again."

You nodded, starting with a white chocolate mocha and ignoring the figure leaning her weight on the counter.

"You can grind-" you heard her start and stop for a few seconds, "the beans for Robin's, she never commented on coffee before but last time you made it she said it was really good."

"Last time I made it?" you cursed your curiosity, "Someone else made you two coffee?"

Technically, the only time you made coffee for them you only started the grinder and fled, so Maggy was the one to finish it.

"Yeah... we came on Saturday to straighten some things. I like the atmosphere here and Robin didn't mind coming again."

Straighten some things? Were they having fights? None of your business in any case but... were they? You only hummed in response.

You placed her drink on the counter and started the second. Noticing you wouldn't start talking again, Miranda cleared her throat and looked to the side. Why couldn't she look you in the face today? It was normal for her to blush and avert her eyes sometimes when you talked but she seemed incapable of keeping eye contact for five seconds today.

"I like your shirt," she commented, out of nowhere.

"It's my uniform? But thanks?" what in the seven hells?

You finished the second drink and thanked whoever listening for her silent departure. Her awkward nod still made your chest constrict though.

This time there was no Maggy to witness your suffering, instead, it was Dave who was bringing the new arrivals and decided to lean against the door and watch.

"Shut up," you breathed as soon as you saw his smirk.

"I didn't say anything."

"But you were thinking."

"Oh, come on, she was obviously flirting with you!" you hated that you agreed with him, it felt like flirting — hesitant and weird but flirting.

"Her girlfriend is sitting right there, she was not flirting with me just five meters away from her," if you said it out loud one more time maybe you could convince yourself.

"Well, or she's very clueless, or devilishly smart." He shrugged and started putting away some gourmet-looking packages underneath the counter.

Later that day you were still thinking of Miranda's strange behaviour. Dave wasn't one for gossip, but this time he opted to completely ignore that and conspire with Maggy about what were Miranda's intentions with you, quite loudly, just a few feet away. They were insufferable sometimes.

After a few hours of little giggles and middle school singsongs, you mistrusted the sudden silence. Dave, oddly enough, was cleaning the expresso machine serenely while Mag was nowhere to be seen.

"Where did Maggy go?" you asked, walking to the kitchen door and peering through the circle window. She was on her back having a phone call.

"Her boyfriend called, don't know what's about but she looked strange when she came in."

A few moments after, Maggy slowly opened the door and peeked from it, "Y/n, can I talk to you for a sec?" she asked, an uncertain tinge in her voice.

"Sure..." you followed her in.

Once inside, you heard her let out a long breath, "Ok, so I know I only covered for you days ago and that it sounds opportunistic as shit, but could you cover the end shift for me? Markus had an accident playing basketball and needs me to get him at the hospital" her tortured face was the cherry on top of your hellish day.

"Of course, I'll cover for you! What happened?"

"He fractured his ankle, that's why I need to get him; he probably won't be able to walk around the house very well too."

"You're fine, go get him. I don't have anything better to do anyway, bug." You kissed her cheek and rushed her into the staff rooms.

Closing wasn't so bad. Today was raining again but you had your umbrella and wouldn't forget it this time. After swiping the floor and checking the kitchen for stoves on and the like, you closed everything and went home.

Every day it got darker and darker around this time. You didn't notice before because you usually were at home, but now you wished you had charged your phone for some extra light. The rain was thick, and you couldn't even hear your steps. The umbrella didn't do much to shield your legs, which were drenched up to the knees.

After a few blocks, the streetlights got dimmer, the shops and public spaces being substituted by tall apartment buildings. You decided to hurry a bit and ignore the shiver on the back of your neck; soon you would reach home.

Well, not really. You felt before you saw the group of four people nearing you. When you thought of sprinting, one of them caught up to you and held you back with strong arms around your middle and one hand covering your mouth. You trashed, trying to free yourself, but they only shushed you sounding amused. The other three joined and they led you to one of the corridors between brick buildings. You couldn't see a thing, only feel rough fingers in your face and the prickly feeling of days-old facial hair on your ear as a hoarse voice breathed on your ear.

"Be a good girl and stay quiet. It'll be a lot less painful for you."

You felt overwhelmed by panic, gagging in bile and trembling like a baby dear. You didn't know where the strength came from, but you freed your face desperately and screamed your lungs out for help. You didn't know if anyone would listen with the rain, you could barely hear yourself, but it could have something to do with the buzzing on your ears muffling all sound around you.

You stepped on his feet, kicked him and bit his arm but he wouldn't budge. He managed to put his hand over your mouth again, but you bit it until you heard him scream and tasted iron in your mouth. However, that only made him hold you tighter, hurting your ribcage, and the rest of the group came to aid him.

What they did was each try to get you under control, which meant none had a full grip on you, and throwing yourself against one worked for you to start running for your life in the direction of the streetlights. You didn't know if your screams were intelligible of even if they were loud enough to be screams, you couldn't hear, had no frame of reference.

You thought you saw the lights of a car turning the corner, but you didn't have the time to see. The same guy who had you before was jumping at you, crashing you against the asphalt with his body weight. You felt your skin burn. Arms and face glued to the street with the impact. Your head was ringing, and you only saw spots of light and unfocused shouting and around you, a very loud noise was the last thing you heard before it was all black.

You woke up feeling warm. There were quiet noises of clicking porcelain and muffled conversation to your left.

The sterile smell was what hinted at where you were, opening your eyes to bright white ceilings and empty beds around you. You were the only one in the room apart from the three people around the door.

Miranda, her girlfriend and a nurse. Oddly enough, Miranda was dressed as a police officer. What she was doing there you had no idea, in fact, you didn't even know why you were there.

You tried to sit, and all three looked at you. The nurse came over quickly and fussed around you, helping you sit, and asking how you felt. You didn't feel too bad, but there were some friction burns on your elbows and forearms that you could do without. Mostly it was just your head buzzing faintly.

"She said you might have a concussion," Miranda joined in, timidly placing her hand over one of yours resting beside you in the bed. You turned it so she could hold it if she wanted. You felt a pang when she did.

"The detective asked if you would be willing to answer some questions. I told her you might not be feeling well enough right now, but if you do I can tell her so." The nurse didn't seem too pleased talking about 'the detective', which reminded you of the movie hospital staff and made you smile.

"I don't know how much use I'd be," your voice was croaky as you looked from the nurse to Miranda, "I don't really know why I'm here."

She understood the question you didn't make and asked the nurse if she could talk with you alone. She seemed only partially agreeable but left anyway.

"You were attacked last night near the university," she said immediately, even if trying to sound softer, and her hand tighten around yours. "Why were you even out at that time in the rain?"

"I don't know... I worked the end shift?" you remembered Maggy asking you to and remembered closing and going out in the rain. Not much more than that.

"You were so lucky we decided to patrol the area, Jesus Christ," she was talking faster than normal, and you furrowed your brows, "Do you have any idea how worried I was?"

"Why are you here? You aren't asking me any questions..." your head hurt too much to think at that moment. You just wanted some peace and not to have to stare at Miranda's face because your head and arms were enough things hurting.

"What? Because I care about you! Because I saw what those sick men were trying to do and I know how it'd end-" she choked in her hurried whisper. Was she about to cry? "You have no idea the terror I felt when I realized it was you the one on the floor. You weren't responding and all I could do was scream at Robin who somehow arrested three men on her own and still managed to call an ambulance."

Wow, there really was a reason Miranda dated her, then.

You felt exhausted all of a sudden. Emotionally and physically, you just needed some sleep and a hug and you leaned against Miranda for just that.

She took you in her arms, surprised but seemingly not against it. You sighed and swallowed the knot in your throat. It didn't help much. Why did you have to like her so much? Why was she so kind and caring even after knowing you for only two weeks? It was so unfair she was taken, the one person with whom you could envision making it work.

When you parted, Miranda still had her arms around you. She was searching for something on your face, staring earnestly into your eyes as if willing you to understand her. You could not for the life of you understand anything about that woman anymore. Here she was, holding you and comforting you after flirting with you at your place of work. Sending you all these mixed signals and expecting you not to fall for them.

She looked almost frustrated with your lack of understanding, then her eyes snapped to your lips for one second then looked back at you; brows furrowed and eyes pleading. Why did this have to be so complicated? You matched her look, gazing wantonly at her lips, just to torture yourself at not meeting them.

However, at your lack of action and obvious wish, Miranda made the decision and leaned in. You weren't expecting it, suddenly woke from your daydream to a very real pressure on your lips. She had strawberry lip balm on and tasted of tea. Hospital tea, the ones at the reception for people staying the night. She smelled of nothing other than her, no soap or sweat or anything, just her after a long night and possibly long morning of dealing with whatever resulted from the last night's occurrence. She felt like home, her arms around you bringing you close delicately, the pressing of her lips long and slow as if she was trying to convey this ineffable thing you couldn't understand when she looked at you. It was beautiful and sweet and so painful you had to stop.

"But what about Robin?" you whispered against her lips.

"What about Robin?"

"I'm so confused, aren't you dating Robin? Your detective 'partner'?" and as you said it, everything clicked together "Oh, no-" You hid your face in Miranda's chest, feeling silly for all the bitterness and jealousy you indulged for the last week, but also hating yourself for all the unnecessary heartache. "You and Robin are partners, as in you work together on cases, correct?"

"Yes... I thought that was rather obvious..." Her arms tightened around you and she made soothing circles between your shoulders. "I think we even discussed the case in the coffee shop. I thought you heard us."

"I might have misunderstood," your voice was muffled by your face pressed onto her uncomfortable, bumpy, vest. You heard her chuckle, and she took a step back, with her index under your chin prompting you to look at her. She had a mischievous grin and an arched brow.

"Did you think we were together?" you only nodded, "And were you jealous?" at that, her grin went from mischievous to an earnest, excited smile. She was too pure for this world.

You didn't respond, only looked to the side screwing your face up to avoid the relieved smile.

"No, c'mon, I want to hear it," her voice carried a note of amusement, but she only looked kind when tilting your face to look at her again.

"I might have..." she huffed a small laugh "No! Shut up! Listen-" you could not control your smile at her looking so delighted "It's your fault that you were so adorable that first day and accepted my coffee like it was the best thing ever! It was just coffee and a cookie, and you looked unreasonably happy! And after that you kept coming and coming more frequently to my god-blessed queer café and flirting and looking shy and beautiful, what did you expect me to feel? Are you kidding me? This was all your fault, you menace! So, of course, I was jealous when you appeared with a dark and mysterious stranger and sat in the most private corner possible to whisper to each other like teenagers thinking they’re being subtle!"

"Ok, I realize you are very passionate about this," she laughed softly, bringing you to a hug again. "But you forgot that you were flirting mercilessly with me and that I never asked you to stop." She had a point, but again there were people who liked being flirted with, even when they were in relationships. You didn't think Miranda was like that, though.

"I know, but I'm allowed to be a bit irrational about this..." your volume decreased as you finished the sentence.

"You're pouting," she whispered to match you, "Why?"

Taking a deep breath, you locked eyes with her. Here goes nothing. "Because you're my coffee shop romance," you said trying to sound confident. At her lack of response for more than five seconds, you backtracked, "That is if you'd like to be. I shouldn't have assumed, you-"

"Jesus, shut up-" she said and smashed your lips together.

The kiss wasn't too dextrous, both of you smiling too much and too eager for it to work properly, but it was the best thing in the world.

"Not Jesus, but I'll let it pass this time," you murmured against her lip when you slowed down. She was peppering chaste, slightly long kisses on your lips and face.

"Shut up," you heard her smile before feeling it in your skin.

"You'll have to make me," you breathed back.

Decided to put notes at the end. I posted this one here because of the ask, but I hope you liked it and that I lived up to your expectations! I had a lot of fun writing this one, so thank you so much and sorry for the long post 💛

[pentagonieslut]

DKB REACTION UN

s/o being naked for the first time

gn!reader (except yuku is female due to scenario)

requested by 🐇 anon !!

enjoy!

dongil

so cute, he's happy that you decided to strip in front of him

..not really. he purposely walked in to watch you get naked

licking his lips like he's dehydrated

"so. since i already saw you in just skin, can i hit?"

you're so mad at him, you ignore him for a week

"baby please forgive me"

chocolates and a card that begs for sex

don't judge. him, jeongsik, and changmin will be in the stu for the next comeback so he needs something

changmin

you didn't realize he was in the shower

so you walked in ass naked

he heard the door open and looked up

smiling so mf hard, his jaw might break

"baby, i'm in here! wanna join?"

you were cold so you didn't care at this point

"sorry love, didn't know."

"don't worry, i didn't see anything"

jeongsik

HIS NECK TATTOO IN SOBER FUCK ME UGH

he was working out like usual and glanced up to see you staring into space whilst eating chips

you were in his zip up hoodie he bought since he was obsessed with oversized clothing

also thought he would be a comedian and hide only your underwear

standing in front of you, he placed a kiss on your nose

HIS CHEEKY FUCKING HAND

"oops. looks like the button is broken..let me eat you"

pushing him away in annoyed

he pushes you down and chris brown's 'take you down' plays in the background like a sitcom

get comfy on the counter; he loves your bodyline

gwang hyun

chicken eating competition

your robe was slipping off slowly

you didn't notice it until you finished both boxes

gwang hyun still had the first leg in his hand

"god you're beautiful-- i mean a beast. shit!"

has to walk away to cool down

comes back and stares at you

"your sexy level reached infinite level"

heechan

"i- sorry- go ahead"

you laughed and allowed him in

the sex fiend was so shy

"uh"

finds the stocks article interesting when he hates looking at it

sings a random ass song

"chipotle?"

"why so shy?"

sungmin

sleeping but opened one eye when he heard you get out of bed

noticed you changing quickly and his brow raised unintentionally

decides to question it when he's fully awake

thinks your ass looks good and wonders how it'll bounce

straight fucking liar

"did you leave for work? i was out cold"

lewd dreams not barbie dreamz

he'll get you by surprise though don't worry

junseo

he's technically already seen you naked

bear hugs you and whispers

"let's do it before i have to go to dance"

and so, you do it

he praises your body and coos

can't stop touching you

soft skin, his favourite

became feral and is willing to skip dance

you force him away after a while and struggle to close the door before you really can't make it to work yourself

yuku

lowkey mad you didn't tell him about the photoshoot

you both were doing sexy modern traditional kimono shoot

your kimono was showing a lot of shoulder and even a slight peek of your chest

in changing room, you changed into the other one and applied more lipstick and perfume

"please don't let anyone take more photos of your boobs except me"

defiant and lowers both sleeves of the kimono halfway down your arms

so sexy oh wow (BRAVE please let DKB do the sexiest of sexy concepts i'm begging you. like full on horny at first scene bbs, abs, muscles, backs, tongues, choreographed sex, sweating, in song moaning, so hot international bbs are the only ones able to watch the mv, i will even buy all versions of the album and only listen to just that specific album for the rest of the year, dilf core, bimbo core bbs, ass shaking, sugar daddy x sugar baby au)

harry june

bath time oishii-kunare

busts in and is ready to jump in

shrieks in slight shock

"sorry! i'll come back!"

slams door before you can even invite him

too bad

could've gotten sucked

comes back in

"let me join you"

[burningrosesbythesea]

You're a grandpa! (How does it feel to be old Bruce???)

prev

beginning

Batman sat before the Batcomputer’s screen, brooding in its blue light. The three strangers weren’t lying, there was no doubt with the evidence of Magpie’s DNA. Magpie was definitely related to Bruce, albeit he wasn’t his son (thankfully); but when he mentioned this newfound information, Milo and Cindy warily glanced at Terry.

Still, Bruce couldn’t believe he allowed someone other than Cass or Damian to take on the mantle of Batman. 

He sent Damian out on patrol with Dick, mostly to prevent his youngest son from scarring the three for life. A tiny and angry 12-year-old with a katana? No, that would traumatize anyone. 

Figuring that Kate, Cass, Jason, Dick, and Damian could handle patrol themselves, Bruce decided that he should at least try to get to know the three teens. 

. . . 

“So basically, the bitch–”

“Miss Cindy, I do have to ask you to refrain from swearing.” Alfred chided, setting down a bowl of cookie batter. 

“Holly,” Cindy corrected, setting down a baking sheet next to Alfred, “activated this machine that opened a portal. So Terry had to send Matt-”

“Who’s Matt?” Bruce asked, walking into the kitchen. He surveyed the scene, Terry was in the pantry looking for something while Milo looked at the microwave in awe. All three of them still had their suits on, but had donned off their masks. 

“My little brother,” Terry answered, poking his out of the pantry, “he’s also my Robin.” 

“Ah,” 

“An actual, old-fashioned microwave…” Milo murmured. 

“Baba and Otou-san aren’t that old,” Cindy scoffed, catching the roll of parchment paper that Terry tossed to her. 

Alfred poured Bruce a cup of coffee, “Two dads?” Bruce wondered. 

“Yes, I can see the family resemblance from here.” Alfred chuckled, gesturing to Milo and his spiky hair. 

“Damian.” Bruce thought. 

He was more concerned about Damian inheriting the “adopting random orphans on impulse” gene than anything really. Seeing as how Cindy and Milo called each other siblings, but looking nothing like each other. 

“You’re… part Japanese, right?” 

Milo nodded at Bruce, “Cindy has Australian blood, I think. Otou-san found her in a dumpster.”

Cindy threw a spoon at him, which Milo narrowly dodged. “Shut up Minoru!” she hissed. 

“Miss Cindy! We do not throw cutlery!” Alfred scolded. 

“Sorry Alfred!” she squeaked. 

“The entire family is weird,” Terry informed, carrying a bag of chocolate chips, “Like Milo and Cindy’s other father used to be a villain.”

“Terry!” The two yelped in unison. 

“Oops–” he spluttered, dropping the bag near the cookie batter bowl. 

“Excuse me?” now Bruce was really worried. Damian really shouldn’t have possessed the “attracted to criminals” gene from him.

“It’s nothing!” Cindy insisted, totally ignoring how Milo began chasing Terry around with a rolling pin. “Otou-san gave up the criminal life a long time ago.”

“Not. Helping!” 

“I’ll shut up now–”

Alfred let out an amused sigh as he began pouring a cup of chocolate chips into the batter, “My, my, look how much we’re learning today.”

Bruce began to rub his temples from the info overload, “Is that all? Or are you going to tell me that one of you is related to a warlock?”

The three went deadly silent. 

“Oh God.” Bruce groaned. 

“So back to the story!” Cindy exclaimed, eager to switch the topic, “We got sucked into this giant portal and passed out. Next thing I know, we’re in the same warehouse, but in the past! Where you’re not old!” 

Alfred listened to Cindy as he began to roll out the dough to make cookies. 

Milo sat beside Bruce, staring at him with wide eyes. At first glance, you could hardly see the similarities between him and Damian; but, upon further inspection, Bruce could see his son in Milo. 

“So, are the cookies for the rest of the family when they get back from patrol?” Terry asked as he began to help Alfred. 

“I figured that tonight’s patrol would come in hungry,” Alfred said, putting the cookies onto the baking sheet.

“Who’s on patrol tonight?” Cindy wondered. 

“Dick, Damian, Cass, Kate, Jason–”

“Uncle Jason?!” Cindy squealed, “Is he coming over?! I have to meet the legend himself when he was young!” 

“Schway! Do you think he’d show us some of his old-fashioned guns?” Milo wondered excitedly. 

“I hope he does,” Terry grinned, putting the sheet into the oven, “I’m more excited to see the earlier versions of his helmet.” 

. . . 

When Matt finally found Cassandra, he didn’t even have to say anything before she scooped him up and threw him into the Batmobile before getting in herself and zooming over to the Batcave. 

Now he stood in front of Bruce. 

“What happened?” Bruce grunted, tinkering with the computer. “I can’t reach the rest of your patrol.” 

“Terry– He– Holly–” Matt couldn’t get the words out. His mind raced with the many possibilities of what happened to the three the moment Terry ordered him to leave. 

Cass placed her gloved hand on Matt’s shoulder in an act of comfort, “Think, then speak.” she seemed to say. 

Okay, what did Bruce need to know? He needed to know why Terry, Cin, and Milo weren’t responding to his coms. Why? Because the stupid machine Holly turned on probably killed them. How did they get into this situation in the first place? They were on a mission– Wait, it was Cindy’s mission. She usually never patrols at night unless she conducts a heist. So when he, Terry, and Milo went out for patrol and stumbled upon Cindy, they offered to help. Cassandra and Stephanie were fine with it and continued on with their patrol. 

“We were helping Cindy out with a lead,” Matt began, finding his words, “Steph and Cass said it was okay so we went out to an abandoned warehouse in the historical district.” 

Bruce got up and reached out for his cane, “And?”

“There’s this machine that was considered dangerous, so Cindy needed to destroy it before anyone got hurt.”

Matt heard shuffling, and he gulped. He really hoped that he wasn’t here right now.

“We were ambushed by some guards, and Holly turned on the machine. It started making this really awful buzzing sound and it glowed blue. Terry told me to leave and I did–” he choked up, “I heard them talk before their com lines just stopped working.”

Bruce now stood in front of him, grimacing. “I’ll send Steph to check out the damage,” 

“It’s going to be okay,” Cass spoke, softly squeezing his shoulder. She had removed her cowl at some point, allowing her short black hair to frame her face. 

“Okay?” A voice choked out in disbelief. 

Akira stormed over, adjusting his green cloak over his shoulders. “My kids could be dead for fucks sake.” he hissed. 

“Easy Akira,” Bruce warned, “you don’t want to be doing something stupid and getting hurt.”

“Hurt?” the younger man scoffed, adjusting his mask, “I can deck at least 3 of your kids in a fight, don’t tell me that I’ll get hurt.” 

“To be fair, you can’t beat Dick in a fight.” Matt pointed out. 

“Yet,” Akira retorted as he got on his hover-motorcycle, “Tell Steph to wait up, I’m going with her.” 

“I’m going with,” the boy said, “Terry’s my brother, I have to make sure he’s okay.” 

Akira gestured for Matt to hop on. 

Cass fitted her cowl over her head again before walking off to the Batmobile, “Returning to patrol.” she announced before closing the door. 

“Don’t do anything stupid, please.” Bruce sighed. 

“No promises.” 

As the two vehicles zoomed out of the Batcave, the former vigilante’s shoulders slumped, “I’m getting too old to deal with this.” 

[chasing-the-persea]

3 & 10!

3. 3 songs that mean something to you

Okay I could list like, 30 songs here but I'm going to try to keep it at 3: Any song by For King and Country I automatically save, but their song ‘It’s Not Over Yet’ means the most to me. I don't know where I’d be if I didn't hear that song and the message behind it when I did

Y’know those songs that feel like someone took your innermost thoughts and put music to them? Known and Loved by Joel Ansett is mine. The first time I heard it I had to pull off the road and weep (these aren't off to a good start, sorry 😅)

For years my first dance song was going to be Dancing in the Minefields by Andrew Peterson because it was the first song I realized was talking about loving someone through life’s trials. And to preteen me that was the most romantic thing ever lol but that song was one of my first basises (??? I don't think thats a word oops) for a relationship so it still holds a place in my heart

10. 3 things you like eating with coffee

I'm not really a coffee drinker but I love cappuccino! My mom makes amazing chocolate and cinnamon chip scones that go well with white chocolate caramel cappuccino, as sugary as it sounds it's not bad! Another is my grandmas chocolate chip cookies :) I haven't done this one in forever but I’ve dipped Andes mints in cappuccino and I loved it too lol (and I wonder why I need so many fillings)

[alakayreblogsclown]

Okay I have to share this because it was kind of weird or idk it was like a "what the heck-?"

Well I went to sleep like lets say 1:00AM maybe a little more late, so I started dreaming and well most of the time I forget what I dream about but I didn't forgot it this time because it was weird?💀 Basically I was dreaming and somehow I was at @partycoffin house and no I have never seen his face THAT'S THE POINT WHY DID I DREAM WITH CLOWN AND HIS FACE WHEN I HAVE NEVER SEEN HIS FACE?!😭

Well lets just say that I do imagine @partycoffin as a guy with kind of long hair 3 little hairs under his nose and uh idk, I just imagine that based on how he drew his self

Reference👇

So yes that's how I see @partycoffin, now last night before I went to sleep all I asked God for was to show me how is the Rainbow Factory Wally AU was going to end but he instead showed me @partycoffin and his face? That was not supposed to happen sir💀 (obviously how he looked in my dream is not how he looks like in real live... probably)

Now, what did I dream about with @partycoffin ? Well I was basically in his house but at first it was a randoms dude house I have no idea why was I there or how I got there and I know I was with him in his room and I kind of looked around the room and some of you might now that Clown some times takes a picture of something in his room and well you kind of see his room so yeah I looked the room and I just remembered the pictures of Clowns room and I was like "is this random guy Clown?" so when he sometimes got out of his room I would get in tumblr I would find the pictures and I would compare the room with the pictures of the room and oop it turns out that it was him, this was a weird dream but somehow nice I mean I got to hug him😌 Well only in the dream but still, it felt nice! :]

OH I JUST REMEMBERED, You all know how there are this 3 different ice cream teams in Splatoon 3? Well In @partycoffin room there was like a table and on top of it there was 3 different ice cream flavors it was the Vanilla one the Strawberry one and the Mint Chocolate Chip one (Mint Chip on top💅) and I know that when I saw that I thought about splatoon, that's another reason why I knew that I was at @partycoffin house/room.

Tag Clown, it will be really funny if he reads this haha!

[xochitomat]

Enter the Berryverse, Part 1: Brazen Promise and Pure Imagination

Based on characters from Roald Dahl's "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory."

 “Oh no, this cant be happening!“

Fucia Benitez chewed her wad of gum faster. She felt the knot of dread in her stomach grow larger.

“I - I - I totally blew it!”

The college girl pursed her lips and shut her eyes in dismay.

POP!

went the piece of chicle between her teeth as she bit down on it again. The rhythmic motion was the only way she was coping with the results of her term paper staring back at her on the laptop screen. Her first semester of business school was not going great.

Though she had started off strong and with lots of determination, her grades gradually started to falter. Now, an economics essay on the dangers of inflation stood to seal her fate for good.

“I could fail out because of this. I could lose my scholarship.” She knew her parents couldn’t afford to pay tuition out of pocket. Even with her own savings from summer jobs, it would only be a drop in the bucket.

This couldn’t  be happening, Fucia thought. She was the first person in her family to go to college. She couldn’t drop out - not after her family had put so many expectations on her. If not for the money, then the shame. As if the pressure wasn’t high enough, her roommate was blaring the TV in their dorm. Something about a reclusive CEO putting out an apprenticeship sweepstakes or something.

“Ugh, can you please turn that down, Carolina? I'm kinda freaking out here!”

Her roommate slumped unbothered in her bed, glaring lazily at the television. “I turned up the volume so I could hear it over your incessant gumsmacking, Fucia. And are you not listening to the news? That candy factory in town is re-opening after all these years.”

Fucia groaned. “Are you not listening? I'm about to fail out of school!” She watched her roommate shovel a few more corn chips into her mouth without as much as a flinch. Finally, the silence prompted the girl to cast a brief gaze in Fucia’s direction, a look that reluctantly said “I’m listening.”

“I've been a great student up until this semester! I don’t know what's going wrong. I mean sure, its a lot of work. It’s not like I can quit my job or my side business, I mean that looks good on resumes. Maybe I’m stretching myself too thin.”

“Huh. I'm not sure thin is the word I’d use, girl.” her roommate said, gesturing down at Fucia’s midriff with her eyes.

Rude, Fucia thought, as one hand self-consciously clutched the love handles protruding slightly over the waistband of her track pants. So she’d been stress eating a bit since the start of the year, so what? It wasn’t even a freshman fifteen. Chewing the gum had been helping curb that habit lately, plus those martial arts classes she was taking as an elective had to be doing something.

She shot an angry glare at Carolina Perez, who for all her constant lounging and snacking had yet to gain or lose a single inch of her figure for it. Not once had Fucia seen her study or stress, and yet her grades remained as unbothered as her attitude. How could she just coast like that? Just the thought of it made Fucia’s blood boil over. It was too much.

“I’m going for a walk” she said, heading for the door. She grabbed her purse with the hand that wasn’t still tenderly clutching her soft sides, “and a coffee”.

Carolina’s hazed eyes shot open at the word. “Hey, do you think you could bring me a -“

“Oops, sorry, I can’t really hear you over the TV. Bye!” Fucia gave an artificial wave before quickly shutting and locking the door behind her. A muffled “Rude!” faded out quickly from behind the door as she walked away.

The walk across the quad proved just a little too warm for the velvet tracksuit she had left her dorm in, leaving the pink jacket tied securely around her waist by the time she walked into the air-conditioned campus coffee parlor. If the cool air relieved her overheated body, it did nothing for her mind, which was still awhirl with desperations and half-made plans to stay in school. Not of it would work. It wasn’t a plan she needed; it was a miracle. She needed a godsend.

The unamused look from the blue-haired barista across from her interrupted her frantic train of thought for a moment and prompted her to order. The barista’s sharp eyes remained unmoved from behind thick-rimmed eyeglasses, fixated on Fucia as she pondered the menu options in between loud smacks of gum.

“Hmmm...lets see...can I please get a medium caramel frappe....”

“Mmkay, anything else?” The hipster girl behind the register offered robotically.

Anything else? What else was there? Fucia scanned the expanse of the counter, quickly scooping up a pack of Rico’s Chicle. She was almost halfway through chewing her current pack and anticipated needing a refill soon.

“Just this and...”

Her gaze hovered over a brown, foil-wrapped package adjacent to the assorted gum flavors. Ornate spiral lettering spelled out a name on the front: Waldo. A Waldo’s chocolate bar; the gaze, though momentary, sent hunger pangs through Fucia’s stomach. The potential for stress relief and a complementary pairing with her beverage enticed her to pick it up. But should I? She thought to herself, recalling her roommates earlier degrading remarks.

Oh, screw you, Carolina.

She quickly picked up the bar before paying. Her desire for its sweet cocoa flavor was stronger than she anticipated. Before her drink had even come she had peeled back the wrapping and sunk her teeth into the sweet chocolatey slab, relishing the satiety of the first bite. In the throes of her bliss, she temporarily swept aside all her other cares and worries.

As she chewed the chocolate, a subtle vision materialized in her head - a future where she did this every day. Her velvet sweats might start to hug much more than simple love handles as time went on. People might stare as her overstretched pink pants trembled softly past them with thunderous steps, but she’d be much too immersed in her own delights to care. Only the blue haired girl behind the counter would know how small and slim of a thing the rotund young woman before her had started out as. Not once would she even feign shame as people glanced towards her pink, porcine figure. She could get as big as an elephant, or at least eat as much as one if she wanted to, who’d care? She could maybe even drown herself in its deliciousness...

Wait, what?

She bit down on something hard.

Reality? Yes, but also metal. Confused by the strange object and equally strange daydream it had pulled her from, she peeled back the foil of the chocolate bar.

There was something lodged behind it - gleaming, shiny and bronze in the midday light of the cafe’s large window. As she pulled it free of the wrapper and let the sun’s rays illuminate its colorful glint, the word “GANASTES” danced in fanciful lettering across its façade. She waved the small metal sheet around in front of her face.

“Oh shit,” the exclamation came from behind the counter. Fucia whipped her head around to see the cyan-haired girl smirk coyly and adjust her beanie, “you got a brazen ticket”. Several heads and gasps shot up around the coffee shop and in her direction at the mention of the word, as if it were a name of some infectious disease or long lost treasure.

Fucia gave the barista a confused look. “Did I...win something?”

“Only the chance of a lifetime.” The barista answered her with all the gusto of a tour guide who’d worked on the same ride for 20 years. “Have you not been watching the news, friend? Mr. Waldo just re-opened his candy factory. And you’re one of five lucky winners who gets a tour. Congratulations.”

That's right. On the TV. The reclusive CEO. The sweepstakes. The apprenticeship. As Fucia stared down at the shiny piece of metal in her hands, a plan began to form. She tossed the rest of the chocolate bar in the trash. She didn’t really want it anymore. She opened the fresh pack of gum and began to chew vigorously - not out of nervousness this time, but a determination as new and shiny as the ticket in her hands.

For it was a ticket she held indeed - and not just to a factory tour. It was the one and only ticket out of all her current problems. The barista was actually quite right. This was the opportunity of a lifetime. A chance to prove herself - to save her future, her family, everything. If she played her cards right, she could easily beat out these other four competitors for the prized apprenticeship. It was practically her own personal scholarship for the taking. All she had to do, she told herself, was reach out and seize it.

“Hey!” called the barista as Fucia walked off, too far already to hear, “you forgot your coffee!” She shook her beanied head and sighed. “All the same, aren’t they?”

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸺-

Fucia lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the bright flashes of the news cameras. Of course her finding the brazen ticket was big news. Of course there would be a press conference. Reporters gathered around her like piranhas in a news feeding frenzy, microphones and notepads extended out at her expectantly.  All those cameras on her - she couldn’t help but feel nervous. She couldn’t help but have slipped not two but three pieces of gum into her mouth before walking up to the podium, chewing down the knots in her stomach as best she could.

“Miss Benitez, how does it feel to be only the second person to find one of Mr. Waldo’s highly coveted tickets?”

“It feels amazing!” She exclaimed with manufactured cheer, “I’m so excited to have this opportunity. I honestly feel like...like the luckiest girl in the world!”

Another flash from the cameras glinted white off the bright wide smile she faked for them. It was a momentary façade as well as a suitable way to hide the chewed-up wad she not-so-subtly chomped on while the reporters peppered her with their questions.

“How about the other four contestants? Given there are still three more potential winners out there, are you concerned with what they might bring to the table? Are you worried they might beat you to the prize?”

Fucia let out a nervous laugh. “Oh...uh...”

She hadn’t had time to anticipate a question like that. Yet the reporters looked on expectantly for an answer. They were reading her, trying to guess how that thought might make her react. And she was indeed reacting. She felt her heart start pounding. Knots turned to bigger knots in her stomach, and she could feel herself chewing away all the faster for it. They were testing her resolve, and she was about to falter.

 No! She thought to herself. Don’t let them see you nervous. Don’t let them see even a glimpse of weakness. You can’t. Otherwise it’ll be over before you even start this.

She quickly threw her head back in exaggerated laughter. “Ahahaha! Why would I be worried about them? I mean, I was top of my class in high school, broke records in track every year, won championships galore since I was ten, plus I’m currently in business school on a full scholarship and making top marks. I'm even on my way to a black belt in karate. I’d love to see any of the others come close to that. Why, if anyone should be worried, I’d say its them!”

The crowd oohed and aah’ed at her boastful attitude. It was working - they were buying it. Pride beamed up inside her, and she smiled all the brighter, perhaps even more genuinely. She chewed openly, as brazen as her ticket for all the paparazzi to see. “In fact, I think I’ll win so quickly and easily, I’ll probably still be chewing this same piece of gum when I do!”

The crowd cheered all the more at her bold vow. Only one reporter quietly asked his neighbor “She knows the tour isn’t for another week, right?”

“And Mrs. Benitez, you must be so proud and excited for your daughter at this moment.” another newscaster probed.

“Oh yes,” Fucia’s mother put an arm around her and smiled just as brightly for the crowd. “We raised our daughter to do well in everything and we are sure that is what she will do.”

Of course her parents had found out about her finding a brazen ticket. And of course that meant she would be expected to come back home with the big news, even though she would have preferred not to. She was not expecting, however, to have had the dozen or so reporters her parents had called crowded around their front door.

“And will you be accompanying her as the plus-one that all the recipients are allowed to bring?”

Her mother smiled assuredly and held her daughter. “Well of course, I’m her mother! Who else would she bring?”

Of course this was the first conversation she and her mother were having about it. She had been hoping to go alone - a plus one would be too much of a liability. Though the interview was over, the knot in her stomach only grew bigger as the two of them walked back inside.

When she had returned home with the big news, her family had been ecstatic. Here was their oldest child, not only coming home from a successful semester of college, but with a golden opportunity in hand to boot. It was all their expectations for her finally fulfilled. Her parents called called cousins, aunts and uncles from far and wide by telephone to boast about their daughter’s good success and merit.

What would they think of her if they knew the truth - that this ticket was the one thin string tethering the great wide balloon of their collective dreams for her to reality?

But they didn’t know, and they were so proud. Even her siblings looked at her with newfound respect, admiration - even a little envy.

She would just have to continue the façade: she was the ticket winner, the girl for whom nothing could go wrong. And as the week went on, as praise was piled onto praise, she began to believe it . The only remaining sign of her true internal apprehension was her incessant daily gum-chewing; but who cared? She was the gum-chewing ticket winner - and she was too big to fail.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

The day of the tour grew closer, and Fucia’s mother revealed a grand announcement: they were going to host a send-off party for the two of them, with relatives from near and far invited. Now, it was the morning of and Fucia was working on her own plan to make the best possible impression on the factory owner, this Mr. Waldo. Of course she would make it a point to show off her educational background, but she needed something more, something bold. Some....act or gesture that would make her stand out from all the rest.

For now, she was focused on putting together the perfect outfit. She settled on a

black pencil skirt and a low-neck cotton top, paired with her favorite red blazer. It was professional enough to show she meant business but also striking enough to stand out from the crowd - or at least she hoped so.

As she dressed in her old room, she looked around at the pictures that covered the walls - framed milestones of her life. Snapshots of soccer trophies, track medals, scholastic championships and decathlons, awards and certificates all adorned the pepto-pink painted drywall. She noticed now in this moment of reflection, how few there were pictures of friends. Sure, she’d been popular, but she really had never been close to any of her classmates. Other students were competition, or at best, a distraction. They either held her back or just got in the way of her being the best. And whenever she could, she had. to be. the best.

Listen to yourself. To what you’re saying.

A voice crept in from the back of her mind; it was hers, although seldom did she let it speak. It was barely a whisper of a thing, but it struck her to the very heart.

Why are you like this?

She examined herself in the body-length mirror, adjusting her small gold hoop earrings and admiring how the belted blazer complemented her figure.

Like what? Driven? Focused on success? That wasn’t a bad thing. She'd fought tooth and nail to get where she was. And not just for her. For her family. The family that had come from nothing. The family that had sacrificed so much to lift her up - that had put so much faith in her. So many expectations to do well, just like her mother had told the reporters. And it wasn't just their dream. All her life, she’d dreamt of becoming successful enough to repay them for all of their sacrifice.

Was that why she was always so competitive, so eager to get ahead of everyone?

To prove herself?

Is that why you always push everyone away? 

Now was not the time to probe further into that question. There was a room full of guests and relatives downstairs waiting. She brushed off her jacket one last time and smiled a big smile. They were waiting to see the ticket winner, after all. She felt good, she told herself. She hadn’t even chewed a piece of chiclé all day. Besides, parties were fun - if she could navigate the guests properly.

“Fucia, todos esperan abajo”, her mother stuck herself halfway into the room. “They all want to see -“

She paused and looked her daughter up and down. “Que haces aqui?”

“Im getting ready...”

“Not dressed like that you’re not.”

“Mamá, I’m...”

“No, no no no. That skirt is much too short! You are not going out, representing us like that! I already picked out something for you in my room. Go, go change. And then meet us downstairs. They’ve been waiting too long already.” Her mother's head disappeared behind the door, like a phantom, though her orders still lingered heavily in the air. Fucia knew protesting any further would get her nowhere. With a sigh, she went to her mother's room to see what was laid out.

“Oh, no.”

There on the bed lay a sickeningly vibrant blue collared dress. Frilled edges, poofy sleeves, a line of silver buttons running down the chest - it was a relic from three decades past, maybe more. Perhaps the only redeeming qualities were the embroidered floral patterns along the neckline.

“You’ve got to be joking.”

A pair of stylish white gloves lay next to the hideous dress. It was terrible: Her mom was trying to dress her like an abuela.

It was even worse once she tried it on. The skirt was knee length and clearly made for a larger woman, so it hung down in an “A” from her shoulders like a circus tent.

No, this simply would not do. Longingly she eyed her rejected blazer, the belt of which had snatched her waist so nicely. She got an idea. “Fine, you want me to wear the dress?” She said as she pulled the belt from the blazer and wrapped it around the blue bedsheet that draped her now. She pulled the buckle tight, and locked it in place. Like magic, the ample fabric contoured to her form. It was properly fitted and uniform on top, with the line of silver beads stopping right at her midriff where the band of red outlined an hourglass form for her so nicely. Then it flared below her waist, the gathered material forming well- proportioned pleats at her knees. With the tights and heels she wore already, it looked professional, if not a little vintage. The white gloves actually complemented the ensemble nicely. It wasn’t ideal, but she could work with this.

Downstairs she saw her mother was already surrounded by people, soaking up the attention like a dry sponge. Nevertheless she was soon bombarded by kin and family acquaintance alike, each bringing their own questions and observations about her.

How are you doing in school?

(Great.)

Do you have a boyfriend?

(No.) As if she had any time for dating in her life.

Are you nervous for today?

(No, of course not). Not yet, anyway.

We cant believe you won! Our son was trying so hard to find one, we thought he got close one time. Your parents must be so proud of you.

(Me neither and Yes, they are)

Have you gained weight since we last saw you? (Just smile, don’t even dignify that with an answer).

Normally the nagging and heckling bothered her a lot more, but there was something much larger looming in her mind. The hour of fate - or destiny -whatever one might call it - was growing nearer and nearer. She was starting to feel the weight of it. Still, she refrained from reaching for the pack of spearmint in her purse.

Finally her mother came over to her, arms open wide. "Mira? That looks much better!” She exclaimed, gesturing with her eyes at the antiquated ensemble she had put her daughter in.

Some of her cousins giggled to each other in the background.

Her mother ignored what Fucia could not and excitedly motioned her daughter towards the vacant area by the door. “Come, its almost time to go.”

Fucia reluctantly began to follow, but the knots in her stomach twisted tightly. The weight of everything felt so heavy now. She couldn’t take another step. “Come, mija," her mother said. The order hit her ears, as it had a thousand times before. Like clockwork she moved to obey, as she had a thousand times after. But this time, something was caught in the cogs. The gears wouldn’t turn. The obedient daughter wouldn’t budge. In the struggle, a single phrase took advantage, springing from its cage, fluttering up her throat and out of her mouth before she could even think to catch it.

“Ma, no.”

Her mother froze. The word was like a gunshot in the empty lobby. “What do you mean, ‘no’”?

That one word had cracked the barrel in her head. Now it had burst and everything was spilling out at once.

“No, I’m not following after you, because no...you’re not going with me!” Her mother immediately frowned.

“After all I did, put this party together just for you, you don’t think you can-“

“You put this party together for you, Ma! I don’t know half these people. I never asked for it. I never asked you to come with me. You gathered all these people here  yourself. You invited yourself."

“Fucia,” Her mother warned.

“No, this is my moment. I’m the one with the ticket. I’m the one that has to win this thing! God, the only reason I’m doing this is so that with the money I can support you! And dad! And everyone else in this house! So I’m going, and you’re staying here because I am going there to win, and you’re just...you’re just going to get in the way!”

She expected her mother to shout. To scream maybe. And although her mother looked as if that last remark had slapped her across the face, her expression was cool and collected. It was only her eyes that went cold. “Fine” was all she said in response. She turned her back and picked up an empty plate that had been left by one of the partygoers.

“If that's what you want, I won’t go with you. But you aren’t going by yourself. You take your Tia Sepha with you.”

“Tia Josepha? But, shes like a hundred years old, Ma!”

Her mother shot her a glare that told her there was no more negotiating. “You take your tia with you or you don’t go at all.” The verdict was final.

Fucia groaned in frustration. If her mother was a liability, her Tia Sepha, who could barely walk, would be twice that. But she was no longer in a position to argue. And she was out of time.

Tia Sepha was sitting in the corner of the living room by herself, draped in a blanket. Fucia mustered her kindest, clearest voice and placed a hand on her great aunt’s shoulder. “Tia Sepha, its me, Fucia.”

Her aunt looked at her for a moment then smiled warmly. “Oh, hi, mija. Lovely party.”

“Gracias. Ahora, me voy a la fábrica de los dulces. Quiere ir usted conmigo?”

 Her tia’s eyes opened wide. “Los dulces de Señor Waldo?”

“Si."

At this her aunt nodded, rather excitedly, and Fucia helped her with her walker as they started for the door. “Oye mija...pero, no viene tu mama?” she asked. She looked back at the waving relatives bidding them goodbye and good luck. Her mother was nowhere to be seen.

 “No, tia. Shes not coming.”

She helped her great aunt out the door to the car, threw the old woman's walker in the back, and closed the trunk.

She took a few minutes just standing there, thinking of everything and yet at the same time not being able to think at all.

“Ugh.”

She looked down at her handbag, opened the flap, and pulled out the pack of spearmint gum that was waiting for her inside. She shoved two sticks into her mouth, letting the cool rush of menthol wash over her as she frantically chewed her worries and apprehensions away.

As she got into the driver seat, her tia looked over at her and smiled. “You look so pretty, mija. Such a lovely dress."

"Thank you, tia."

"Pero... sabes que estas masticando como una vaquita, no?”

Fucia let out a sigh, “Yes, I know. Lets go.”

And with that, the two women headed off, where factory and fate alike awaited their imminent arrival.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻—-

There was a crowd already gathered when they pulled up to the factory gates. News folk and eager spectators crowded either side of the grand carpeted path that stretched from the car, past the gnarled, wrought -iron gate, and finally all the way into the massive stucco building beyond.

As they exited the car, Fucia noted the great smokestacks which billowed out from either side of the building like ancient sacrificial pyres. It sat like a temperamental volcano in the distance, one that threatened to blow everything to smithereens given the right excuse.

Once she had fake-smiled her way past the cameras and cheering crowds, all the while scooting her hobbling aunt along beside her, she finally got the opportunity to size up the other contestants already waiting at the gate. She honestly hadn’t heard or seen much about them before this time - too focused on her own preparations and worries.

She wedged herself between the first two. To her left stood a young woman about her age - although she was maybe two or three times her size. She reminded Fucia keenly of the bizarre, bloated daydream she’d had of herself that week or so earlier.

The girl clasped her ticket tightly in her hands , which were crossed and resting on her wide, soft middle. In her candy-striped dress, she looked as plump and sweet as a three-layer strawberry-vanilla cake, made up with cherry red lipstick and sparkling scarlet eyeshadow. She gave Fucia a wide, doe-eyed glance before quickly reverting an expectant gaze back towards the gate ahead and beyond.

On her right another young woman in designer sunglasses held her ticket with gilded claws in one hand, while the other hung tightly upon the arm of a much older, equally well-dressed man. She contorted her botoxed lips into a frown as Fucia stepped next to them. Fresa , Fucia thought accusingly as she shot back an equally unpleasant stare. The woman simply flipped her bleached-blonde hair with a heavily- jeweled hand and turned her head.

A skunky, pungent odor reached Fucia’s nostrils as she gazed further down the line, where she found it belonged to a disheveled man in a carpet hoodie who fiddled aimlessly with is ticket as a cigarette protruded out of his mouth amongst wispy , scattered face hairs. Looks like I could have worse addictions, she thought with a smack of her gum.

Past the stoner, at the opposite end stood a small, lanky figure dressed in oversized rags and a faded baseball cap. The stranger was covered from head to toe - despite the border town’s sweltering summer heat. Fucia could only make out two, icy blue eyes behind a mop of blond windswept hair.

Suddenly the crowd behind them began to stir. In the distance, the building doors opened. Someone was coming out from behind it, at first just a purple speck in the distance.

Everyone stood in silent shock as the figure lurched forward slowly, leaning unsteadily on his cane. He was bent over, his face obscured by a rather large black top hat. This is taking forever, Fucia thought to herself. Each wobbly step seemed to threaten a sudden fall headfirst into the hard concrete below. How was he supposed to give a tour like this? It was only a matter of time before he -

Just then he did lose his footing, stumbling clumsily and falling headlong, straight into a - a full, flawless somersault?

Wait, Fucia thought, did he just...pretend to walk with a limp the whole way up here? What the hell?

The top hatted man now stood fully erect. He stretched out his gloved hands theatrically. The crowd behind Fucia gave a cheer, as did the other ticket winners. Fucia rolled her eyes before donning her fake-smile once more and joining in on the clapping. The man took off his hat, letting his well-greased mop of black hair fall forward. He gave a little bow and a whimsical wave of his hat in hand as he tucked the cane behind his back with the other. In a sing-song voice, he addressed the ticket winners and the crowd.

“Weclome y bienvenidos, one and all, to my marvelous little factory. I am Mr. Waldo, your most gracious host...and tentative benefactor.”

He have a little twirl to his waxed mustache and a tug on his tapered goatee.

“If you are one of the five standing before the gate, that means you found one of my brazen tickets...hopefully. Congratulations! You’re about to be amazed, astounded, maybe even flabbergasted! But beware, for not all is as it seems...but as long as you remember-”

God, this guy loved to hear himself talk. His eccentric orating was starting to give her a headache. She had heard Waldo was a little strange, but nothing quite like this.

“Now now, with no further time to waste, come in, and please, present your tickets.”

He swung open the gate and held out a poised hand, wiggling his fingers in a beckoning motion while flashing a wide, almost sinister grin.

The fat girl scurried up to him first, proudly presenting her ticket to the candyman.

“Muchisimas gracias, señorita”, he cooed , “and your name?”

Her plump face beemed. She spoke too fast, Fucia thought. “Thankyousir, itsamazingtomeetyousir, I love your candysomuch! Mynameis Alejandra. Alejandra Garcia. Ohandthisismybestfriend, hehe! Cynthia.”

“Always a pleasure to meet a fan,” he said, and motioned her along, “next?

This is it, Fucia thought. She smiled her best fake smile, fixed her hair as best she could, guided her tia alongside her with one hand, and presented the other assertively to Mr. Waldo.

“A pleasure to meet you, Señor Waldo,” she began, “My name is Fucia Benitez, I’m a local bussiness student and a - “

He grasped her hand. “Ah yes, Miss Benitez. I remember you from the news.“ Her tone skipped in surprise. If only for a moment, her bold exterior faltered.

“Y-you do?” she asked.

He peered into her - past her failing artificial demeanor, past her nervousness - and into her very being. His eyes did not resemble those of a man, she thought, but a coyote: Intelligent. Crafty. Unpredictable. And most assuredly dangerous.

“Well of course. You made quite a bold vow on camera. Pray tell, are you still chewing that same piece of gum as we speak?”

“Oh! Ha, well uh, no, not exactly...”

“And the lady accompanying you, as young and lovely as she is, is not your mother, if I’m not mistaken?”

“N-no sir, this is my great tia Sepha. She’s always wanted to meet you.”

He averted his soul-piercing gaze and his gloved hand slipped from her own, and extended toward her aunt’s.

“Un gusto, señora” Her aunt stared wide eyed as he smiled kindly before letting her go and waving them along. “Next.”

Fucia began to walk away with her tia.

“Ah, Miss Benitez -“ Waldo called behind her, stopping her in her tracks, “one more thing.”

She spun around quickly, “yes, Mr. Waldo?”

He still faced away from her, albeit for two fingers extended outward behind him. “Your ticket, please?”

“Oh, right. Sorry...” She fumbled in her purse for a moment before pulling it out and handing it over. He snatched it promptly between the two fingers without even so much as a glance towards her.

“Thank you.”

Fucia walked off to join her tia, who waited by Alejandra and her friend. She swore under her breath, unsure of what to make of the introduction that had just transpired. He seemed impressed by her boldness on TV, but quite unimpressed on her ability to follow through. And she had forgotten the ticket. Stupid! She was frustrated, but could do nothing more about it but stand and watch the other contestants walk through.

The fresa and her husband were next. She placed her ticket gingerly in his hand as Waldo asked her name. “Veronica. Veronica Fue- well, actully, its Saltillo now, right my love?” The old man smiled and shook Waldo’s hand in turn.

The man in the carpet hoodie walked up next. “Hey, bro, good to meet you” he went in for a side hug catching the tycoon off guard. Waldo seized up, trying his best to remain cordial despite the obvious discomfort. “Your name, sir?”

“Huh? Oh, Miguel, but everyone just calls me Mikey, man. I heard there was like, some snacks or something here if I turn in this ticket?”

“...Something like that, I assure you,” replied Waldo, unamused, but polite. “This way.”

 “Hey, thanks, hombre.” Mikey sauntered off in a daze.

Finally, the pile of animated rags stepped up, quiet and sly as a mouse. “And your name, my young friend?”

“Oh. Uh. Charli - Char -lene.” The mysterious female stranger stuttered. “Charlene Parcél. Its..French. But I was born here, which is why I don’t have an accent. Plus, I’m new in town anyway....” Waldo cocked a pointed eyebrow, and waved her along with the others.

 “Very well then,” he said , “the five of you follow me. So much time and so little to - no, wait - switch that, reverse it -ay, que vale - Vamos!” And waved to the crowd before doing a full cartwheel away.

This guy is certifiable, Fucia thought with increasing anxiety as they approached the factory’s huge metal doors.

“Ohmygod. Can you believe we are actually here, girl?” Alejandra gushed to her on the left. “ I just LOVE Waldo candy, since I was a kid! Even if I don’t win, I betcha there's stuff in there nobody’s ever even TASTED before! I can’t wait to try it all!”

Fucia smiled and nodded. Alejandra was clearly easily distractible and didn’t pose too much of a rival. Businesses weren’t typically run by fans, anyway. Her eyes turned to Veronica. Was there an imminent, competent threat hiding behind those Versace sunglasses? Or perhaps she was a puppet for her wealthy husband?

She quickened her pace to catch up to the two of them. “I don’t suppose you have any experience in business, do you Mrs. Saltillo?” she probed, somewhat coyly.

Veronica smiled and laughed, albeit condescendingly, “Oh, well I’ve dated quite a few CEOs if that counts. But that was before meeting my much handsomer, not to mention wealthier, husband here. We were just talking about how we might just buy this old run-down place, win or not, right mi amor?” She threw her head back as the two of them laughed and walked on.

They crossed through the open door to a steel-lined lobby. The factory’s great metal jaws slammed behind them with a loud and uneasy clang. No turning back now, Fucia thought. She was in this. But what other choice did she have? Her focus was set. She had to win, no matter the cost.

“Now before we begin,” Mr. Waldo began in his already-getting-old sing-song voice, “a few minor details of business,” he produced several clipboards and pens, “this is just standard precautions, I assure you: It’s not as if I’m making you sign yourself away as company property or something like that!”

Weird that he would even mention that, Fucia thought, but it didn’t matter. She signed for her tia, herself, and handed them back. With one swift motion, he tucked them all into an inner pocket and turned the knob on the door before them.

“Señoras y señores, without further recourse, may I present...paradise.”

Fucia drew in an involuntary breath. She had prepared a thousand visions of what awaited behind that door, and none of them had prepared her for the fantastical scene that lay before her now.

A lush and verdant canopy, winding paths adorned with vibrant flowers of every conceivable color, bubbling fountains and springs equally as glittery and comely to the eye - and all of it, she realized as she stepped into the large arboretum with the others, was candy. As light trickled in from the beautifully stained-glass ceiling, bathing everything in a kaleidoscope of colorful hues, she forgot for a moment her present cares. She found herself seized by a wave of childlike wonder - each sight was new and exciting, inviting exploration and delight. There were few times she could remember feeling such levity, no - not since she was very young.

“Mind your step down the alegria staircase, please.” Waldo cautioned as he motioned them off the platform overlooking the fantastical landscape.

Fucia looked toward her aunt, who bore an enamored and awestruck gaze similar to her own. In a rare moment of harmony, niece and aunt smiled at each other with giddy excitement.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” She heard Waldo tell the group. “Please, enjoy the ‘fruits’ of my labor.”

Needing no further encouragement, the entire group scattered among the confectionary marvels. Alejandra and her bestie jumped up and down on a giant block of bandera de coco. Veronica’s husband snapped off a paddle from a nopal to reveal it was made of fondant and chocolate filling. He offered it to his much younger wife, who just rolled her eyes and waved it away in disgust. Mikey went off to take a snooze under the shade of a large cacao tree. Fucia helped her aunt over to the bushes of honeysuckle, sweet rose, ginger, and chocolate mint that grew along the carbonated water spring.

Gingerly, the old woman pulled off a sprig and held it close to her nose, breathing in deeply the comforting nostalgic aroma.

Then Fucia saw it - shrouded by a small shrubbery of cotton candy bushes, yet still visible enough for her to make out its colorful contours- a rainbow slide of candy-coated chocolates. As she approached, she realized it poured down the into a wider pool at the bottom of the slope, like a ball-pit at a playground. She swiveled her head around. When she was sure no one was watching, she rushed toward it, as if her feet were possessed by the ghost of her childhood days.

With a leap, a crash, and a yipe, she slid on her bottom down the hill, holding down her spacious dress to keep the skirt from flying up. Candies scattered around her until she tumbled forward into the pool of them at the bottom, coming to a grinding, clattering halt amongst the tiny chocolate pebbles, feet up in the air and hair strewn across her face. She couldn’t help but stare up at the stained glass twilight above her, hands clasped over her belted waist, and laugh. She laughed fully, freely. When was the last time she had allowed herself to have so much fun? To just let go? Her anxiety melted away like chocolate in a hot car as she lay there alone in the pit. She breathed a relaxed sigh that was years forthcoming. It felt good - it felt right. At length she sat herself up, kneeling amidst the pool of tiny candies.

She picked one up, studying it in her carefully manicured fingers. Its vibrant color was inviting - tempting even. At last, she lost all resistance and popped it into her mouth. She knew right away it was Waldo chocolate; the sweet and blissful sensation danced like fire upon her tongue. With increasing enthusiasm, she picked up another, and then another, savoring the flavor of each one, though they all tasted the same (it would have been nice, she thought, if there was some variety, but no matter). There was no one around to stop her, to judge her. No one to tell her no. And it felt amazing.

“Hey, quit that!”

She had scooped up a handful and was about to pour them into her open jaw when a voice from behind stopped her cold. Instead, the candies spilled through her fingers and clattered back into the pile. Oh no, had Waldo caught her acting like an absolute fool in his candy pit?

She whirled around in shock. It was not Waldo - only the ragdoll, Charlene, standing there slouched with her hands cooly set in her pockets.

“Um, excuse me?” Fucia replied, making it clear she was annoyed. Who did this ragamuffin think she was?

“Look, just trust me. This thing will go a whole lot better for you if you just...if you just don’t touch anything. Okay?”

Who was this, lecturing her on how to win? Did she think she had a leg up or

something?

“I think I know what I’m doing, thanks.” To prove her point, she threw a few more candies in her mouth and swallowed. Charlene’s cold blue eyes just closed and she wagged her head underneath her dusty stained cap.

“How long were you watching me, anyway?” Fucia asked, standing up and brushing off her dress. She should never have let her guard down in the first place. If it was Waldo who had seen her, she could have kissed the apprenticeship goodbye for sure.

“Long enough to see you get carried away. Look, I’m just trying to help...”

Fucia felt her expression sour. She didn’t need this bundled-up wierdo’s condescending advice. Anger boiled in her belly, and ran hot behind her ears. She stormed past the strange girl, clipping her shoulder as she did. “Well I don’t need your help, so just...stay away from me, freak!"

“Hey, wait, look, there’s no need to be rude...“ Charlene called out behind her, but she was already out of earshot. Her moment of peace was gone. The pressure and determination of the game at hand returned. She plodded back to her aunt and the rest of the group, who had reconvened further down the amaranth-cobbled path.

She saw the that the underbrush of sweets had opened up into a great pond further down. More accurately, it was a lake, but it shimmered with a deep rich brown that she had never seen in a lake before. She was afraid it was sewage at first, but as the sweet smell of anis and cinnamon floated toward her nose, she knew different. It was chocolate - bubbling, warm, chocolate, as spiced and aromatic as a Christmas Eve cup of champurrado.

And there, in a grove of cacao trees by its lapping shore gathered the group, led by Waldo. He was....singing. Oh god, the man was actually singing some impromptu verse about the wonders of his factory, waving his arms dramatically to the notes of his voice. It was also purely a capella.

Just when I thought winning this guy over couldn’t be any harder, Fucia thought with a groan.

 She rejoined the group just in time to clap and smile artificially with everyone else as he finally finished. Charlene had also rejoined them, although at the opposite end. Fucia turned away from her piercing eyes. They were icicles; like Waldo’s, they cut into her very soul - judging her every move, every merit - dissecting her character down to its very core. Fucia couldn't stand it.

“Mi amor, look, coming over across the lake! Its looks like a funny little duende, doesn’t it?” Veronica waved a bejeweled hand halfheartedly in the indicated direction.

“Why, yes, I see it too. What, or who is that, Mr. Waldo?”

Waldo smiled, “Ah, you are half right, you see. And just in time for the next segment of our tour. As you know, I haven’t hired anyone in years, and I simply couldn’t have done all this by myself. It was on one of my many voyages to the Yucatan, the ancient birthplace of chocolate, searching for the best cacao trees to propagate here in my factory, that I stumbled upon a long-forgotten city relegated to only legend. There lived the magical folk which guarded the forest - only half as tall as I, but with hearts twice as big, and pointed ears to match! Quite the athletes they are - they do triple the work of a man, and in half the time! Please treat them with utmost respect when you meet them. Which should be any second now!”

The group strained their eyes as a giant rowboat filled with small figures surged closer and closer to shore.

“Is there a reason they are blue, Mr. Waldo?” Alejandra asked.

Waldo laughed. “Blue? Well, they are traditionally fond of body paint. But they usually prefer orange, not bl-“

Shoomp!

Something whizzed past Waldo’s head and buried itself in the side of the nearby tree. It was a long, wooden dart.

“Careful there!” Waldo shouted playfully across the water, “that one nearly hit m -“

Another dart whizzed across the water, flying into the candy-maker’s top hat and pinning it to the tree next to the first.

“Que diablos!” He swore. “What the blazes has gotten into them?”

Suddenly, a man the size of a small child crashed out of the bushes close to them, clad in only a breechcloth. His eyes, larger than a human’s, were filled with fear. His pointed ears twitched as he shouted frantically at Waldo in an unintelligible tongue.

Behind the halfling, a clawed, blue hand shot out from the bushes, grabbing the poor miniature fellow by the back of his breechcloth. He hadn’t been running towards Waldo - he was running away. From something terrifying. The clawed creature leapt from the bushes and pinned its prey to the ground.

The creature was small, like the halfling man, but monstrous. Its larger, bat-like ears were pulled back, fangs bared as it subdued the little man who struggled fruitlessly to break free underneath it. And, most contrastingly, it's skin was blue.

The tour group gasped and panicked. Eyes darted towards Waldo, whose cool, calculated complexion was all but gone. “N-now everyone, p-please remain calm...I-I assure you, all is under control!” His eyes told the true story, irregularly wide with confusion and fear: This was not under his control. This was not part of the tour.

The halfing man screamed in pain as the fanged, blue, goblin-like creature sunk its teeth into his shoulder. Fucia watched in shock and terror as a wave of blue spread from the bite wound across the little mans body. His muscles clenched, his eyes bulged and burned with a glowing red fire. Teeth grew into fangs. His brow thickened and his pointed ears flayed out. He snarled with feral savagery.

To the crowds horror, the halfling had been transformed into another of the same creature. The two blue vampiric imps now edged their way closer and closer to the crowd.

“My...my halfling workers!” Waldo exclaimed, “What...what has been done to them?”

A second slurry of blow-darts whizzed past the tour group from the fast approaching ship behind them. Veronica screamed, pushing her husband aside and heading towards the trail that led back to the exit. Two more snarling blue homunculi stepped onto the path, blocking her way. She got two steps before they pounced upon her as well. She screamed.

“Oh, shit,” Fucia heard Charlene exclaim.

To their backs , the boat scraped onto the rock-candy shore. A dozen or so azure gremlins came pouring out - some held weapons like blowguns, others simply brandished claws and teeth.

Waldo cowered away from them them, a strand of the slick-oiled hair on his hatless head falling in front of his face. “Now, look here, my good halflings,” he began, “I’m not quite sure what the meaning of this is, but if you could ju -“

Four or five of them covered him in a flash. Fucia had never heard a grown man scream quite like that. Her tia quivered next to her, and so she did her best to hold the old woman close as the rest of the goblins closed in.

“Cynthia...help!” Squealed Alejandra. Fucia turned to see the poor round girl had wandered by the bank of the lake in an effort to get away. But not in time. With a sneer, one of the gremlins gave her a shove backward.

“Aaah - Aaaaaaaaeeeeee!” The girl cried, waving her arms frantically to regain her balance. But it was no use. The momentum of her body was too great and she went flying headfirst into the lake of champurrado below. Her pudgy legs and shoes kicked and thrashed above her before disappearing with a great and thunderous splash.

“Alex! Oh god, somebody help her, she can’t swim!” Her friend exclaimed. Fucia searched as best she could for any trace of the peppermint-striped young woman under the chocolate’s warm bubbling surface. At length she broke it, sputtering and crying for breath, covered in the brown, sugary cinnamon water. She was getting dragged further and further outward, Fucia noticed, towards a large steel pipe that shot up to the ceiling from the lake...

“Damn it all,” from behind her, Fucia heard Charlene mutter. Without an uncanny burst of strength and agility the strange woman catapulted herself over Fucia’s shoulders, cartwheeling past the snarling imps and diving headfirst into the chocolate lake, rags and all. She cast off her sweater and cap as she swam, desperate to reach the flailing plump damsel before the pipe claimed her.

A guttural growl brought Fucia’s attention back to the close and personal. Three armed and slobbering blue goblins edged towards her quivering aunt. Fucia met the closest one with a swift pointed-toe kick to the jaw. “Tia, get behind me,” she ordered. Waving her purse around she managed to send the second gremlin flying with a well-timed swing of it. She tore a white glove from one hand with her teeth as the final imp charged, claws slashing. One swipe sliced against her midriff, scraping the metal buckle of her wide leather belt - but not before she sent a concentrated knee-and-fist combo strike to its throat and chest. It fell to the ground before scampering off to a short retreat with its companions. It looked like all those martial arts lessons had paid off, after all - love handles be damned.

To her left, she saw Mr. Saltillo grappling with one of the creatures behind a pair of brass knuckles. She kicked it free for him, allowing enough time for him to deliver a serious punch. He looked up and gave a wink of gratitude, when suddenly his eyes went wide. A host of the creatures grabbed him by his pristinely polished duranguense boots and dragged him off, along with the slumped bodies of Waldo and Veronica.

Fucia heard a splash behind her. Charlene struggled to haul the hefty Alejandra up to shore. “She fainted, but she's ok,” Charlene huffed and puffed. Her eyes looked up at Fucias once more with that frozen icy stare.

“What?”

Charlene had shed her oversized sweater and hat, revealing a sleek waterproof tracksuit underneath. Her hair was still a mess of blonde, although her bangs were tightly cropped across her forehead. And as the chocolate dripped off her skin, so did her flesh-colored foundation, revealing a much more bizarre hue underneath. She was blue. Her skin was as pale and as icy blue as her soul-piercing irises. Fucia shrieked, “Y-you’re one of them!”

Charlene rolled her eyes, before delivering a spinning roundhouse kick to the wave of blue demons that approached. “If I was, would I have done that?”

Fucia delivered her own swift kick to one that got too close. “Where’d you learn to fight like that?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” The pale blue girl backflipped away from the upcoming torrent of blow-darts, landing perfectly beside Fucia. “Ah shit. I really didn’t want to have to call for backup.”

The goblins closed in on them from all angles. In the confusion, Fucia realized everyone had been dragged off except her, Charlene, and Tia Sepha.

“Charlene...what...who are you?”

“Oh. Well for starters, my name’s not actually Charlene, sorry. Violet Beauregarde, at your service. And I’m gonna get you out of here.”

[meowzfordayz]

l o v e

Author’s Note: feeling cheesy. 🧀🥰

l o v e

Hashira x Reader, Tokito Muichiro x Reader, Kamaboko x Reader

Word Count: ~3,500

CW: explicit language, mild sexual content

~faqs~

celebrates every anniversary and milestone. for your relationship and individual achievements. keeps everything. memory box? more like memory boxes. goes through them with you each year on your official anniversary (as in, the day you become exclusive, although he certainly celebrates the day you first talked, the day of your first date, the day of your second date, the day you first had sex… does he have a calendar or is he just obsessed with you? likely both heh). movie tickets, dinner receipts, blurry polaroids. of course, not all celebrations are created equal. he doesn’t always go over the top. usually asks for your input before planning celebrations for the classics i.e. becoming official and moving in together. but it’s actually super sweet when you receive an unexpected Happy first time we held hands! text, or On this day ~years ago, I lent you my sweatshirt for the first time!, and Guess what today is? It’s our got-each-other-sick-and-cuddled-the-entire-weekend anniversary! badgers you about brushing your teeth. constantly concerned for you and your health. insists on kissing all of your bruises and scrapes. banged your shin on the coffee table getting up from the couch? kiss paper cut? kiss stubbed your toe? kiss burnt your tongue? French kiss paint and wine nights. grocery shopping together, splitting half and half, and choosing different check out lanes to see who’s goes faster. tossing pennies into fountains. 11:11. shooting stars. four leaf clovers. his love? as annoying (affectionate) as it is genuine — as splendid as it is simple. leaves no small gesture unnoticed. infinitely grateful for the little things.

spontaneously wakes you up at 1am to bake cookies. will laugh if you burn them, or if you forget to add the chocolate chips. is losing to you 4:17 in Monopoly. swears he’s going to win the overall tournament though. there is no tournament. talks to you in a higher octave when nobody else is around. doesn’t realize he’s doing it. you just make him happy. soft. squeaky. sidetracks anytime you walk past a playground to do the monkey bars. whenever there’s one of those carousel play structures, you somehow always find yourself clinging onto it for dear life as he mischievously spins you into the nth dimension. unless you get motion sickness. then you somehow always find yourself spinning him. do not get on a seesaw with him, because he will drop your ass to the ground without so much as a warning. his ulterior motive? getting to rub your sore booty afterwards. is simultaneously the most entertaining and most embarrassing partner to bring to formal, snooty events. will absolutely keep you attentive and giggling instead of yawning and nodding off, which is both helpful and unfortunate. helpful because it’d be rude to fall asleep. unfortunate because it’s also rude to be giggling. oops. is a master at bullshitting excuses to leave early, trading black tie attire for cozy sweats, stiff chairs for your snuggly couch. if you slowly but surely receive fewer and fewer invitations to such outings? oh well. his love? as whimsical as it is serious — as lively as it is tender. nurtures bravery and creativity. doesn’t give a damn about what they think. only gives a damn about you.

constantly buying you jewelry. not necessarily expensive. always thoughtful and artistic. handwoven bracelets in your favorite colors. earrings with your favorite gemstones. simple pendants. a small, silver heart. your favorite flower carved from wood. if you have a special connection to certain symbols (i.e. four leaf clover, yin and yang, Celtic knot), then he’s sure to keep an eye out for those too. rainy days. splashing in puddles. always holds the umbrella, because he’s at risk of accidentally losing an eye otherwise (height difference, yanno). but you still have to wear a raincoat, because, well, height difference (sure your head and hair’s protected, but if it’s windy, then your legs and torso are likely to get wet). actually. he has to wear a raincoat too hahaha, because he’s too tall for an umbrella to be entirely effective. scratch the umbrella. matching raincoats. not necessarily identical, but your aesthetics compliment each other. dressing room photos. Whaddya think? as you send multiple angles of the shirt you’re trying on. lovely color <3 does the fabric feel nice? because he knows some materials irritate your skin, and wants to ensure your comfort. It’s cotton! Super breathable is excited when you return home, satisfied gleam in your eyes. can’t wait to cook your favorite meal, treating you to the finest dining in the privacy and familiarly of your own home. hopes you’ll wear the shirt. his love? as appreciative as it is modest — as steady as it is honest. builds trust and longevity. sees forever in your smile.

personal photographer. not only when you want your photo taken, but when he wants to take your photo. 98% of his camera roll is you, 1% is you and him, and the remaining 1%? random shit. epitome of whipped, but in a healthy, non codependent manner. plans far in advance so he can balance work, friendships, and you. always wants you to feel like a priority, while also recognizing the importance of remaining his own person. still regularly uses you as an excuse to head home early though. yeah, he’s having fun, but nope, he’s not with you. not where he really wants to be. will chuckle at casual remarks of Missing [y/n] already? and Do you have each other on speed dial? you do. but does not tolerate any slander toward you. makes it unmistakably clear that you aren’t controlling or clingy or demanding. he craves how you laugh at his shitty jokes; how you playfully roll your eyes when he returns home two hours before he said he would; how you touch the scarred corners of his mouth; how you’re whipped for him too. doesn’t use social media. has exactly three posts on Instagram. a cringy photo of him from middle school (aka when he created his account) that he’s too lazy to delete. plus, at this point, it’s lowkey sentimental. a blurry photo of maybe the sunset or a tree? and you. no captions for the first two. <3 for you. it’s not a great photo of you, but you’re so ecstatic about even making it onto his Instagram to protest. his love? as embracing as it is deep — as unabashed as it is vulnerable. counts the hours you’re apart. with you, nothing, not even the sky, is the limit.

remembers your birthday. bonfire dates at the beach. always happy to lend you his sweatshirt. and his shirt. and his sweatpants. and his underwear. and his socks. you may not live together yet, but spending the night isn’t a hassle in the slightest because his wardrobe = your wardrobe. and obvi. yours also = his. always answers your calls, or calls you back if he misses them. calls you when he knows you’re busy just so he can leave you cute voicemails. if he can’t fall asleep beside you, then he’ll fall asleep on the phone with you. lets you know if he has a busy day ahead of him so you don’t worry or overthink about his lack of communication. surprises you with tiny gifts. a penny he found on his way to work. a dandelion, not yet blown on, so you can make a wish. a carton of milk at 9am because you texted him pouting about how you couldn’t make pancakes. if he ends up staying the whole day, and then the whole night? a happy ~accident. cries with you during sad movies. and if you’re not the type to cry? he still cries. pillow forts! perfect for winter Sundays. fairy lights, candles (although obviously not in the fort), snacks, aaand. naptime. because building a fort requires a lot of energy. will occasionally prank you if you drift off first. Sharpie tattoos, painting your nails. if you’re a heavy sleeper, then he’ll even attempt to change your clothes. keeps track of how long you take to notice you’re wearing a different shirt. your record is four hours and thirty one minutes. sunshine strolls! definitely a hand holder. doesn’t matter how hot or sweaty. he. adores. your. hand(s). totally lets you slip your hand into his pocket when it’s cold, because it ~forces you to walk closer to him. his love? as timeless as it is romantic — as cheeky as it is innocent. slow burn even as he falls faster than the blink of an eye. your eyes.

memorizes your favorite recipes. picnics in the summer. makes sure you’re hydrated. water, tea, coffee, smoothies. whatever you’re willing to drink, she’s happy to pour, steep, blend for you. refuses to let you pay when you dine out. constantly compliments you, but they’re all so unique and proudly stated that you don’t ever doubt her sincerity. wins you stuffed animals at the carnival. super competitive if you play the water shooter game. adores cotton candy. especially when you bite off a huge piece and she gets to split it with you. on that note. often helps herself to your food. not like, spoon, fork, or knife. Lady and the Tramp 24/7. enjoys sitting with your head in her lap. traces the edges of your ears. never forgets to text you good morning and good night. can fall asleep while you braid her hair. always wakes up when you wake up. if you go to the bathroom at 2:47am, then you should expect an I miss you text no later than 2:49am. clings to you the moment you get back in bed. guilty pleasure? when you nap in the afternoon. she has sooo many videos of you snoring, photos of you drooling. giggles if you ever vehemently deny her accusations, but doesn’t show you her evidence, because if you ask her to delete them, then she will in a regrettable heartbeat (#time to rebuild the stash). will do anything and everything for you in a heartbeat. unless it’s unreasonable or toxic? but obviously you aren’t like that in the slightest. she trusts you with her whole heart and wellbeing, just as you trust her with yours. her love? as generous as it is encompassing — as overwhelming as it is tentative. feels like a movie, but really it’s just Mitsuri.

buys you souvenirs from her travels (although she obviously prefers for you to just come with her!). teaches you how to shuffle cards. if you already know how to shuffle, then she teaches you how to destroy anyone and everyone in Poker. but she doesn’t believe in actual gambling. will only play for fun. will also play to strip, because you always end up naked. if something’s pissing you off and you tell her about it, then she’ll very likely end up even more pissed off than you. calls you during longer drives (assuming you aren’t in the car with her). both entertains and terrifies you with her road rage. has to assure you that No dear, I did not just run over that assfuck pedestrian and Of course not honey, I would never brake check a tail gating idiot. has a secret stash of your favorite snacks for grey days. refuses to tell you where exactly she happened to find your favorite chips Oh, in the far back of the pantry somewhere. does your taxes because she hates how stressed they make you. aaand, she’s pretty sure you’d either: never do them otherwise They’re confusing and annoying!, or pay an unnecessary amount to have a “professional” do them (no slander against accountants! but if she can do them for free, then why pay someone else?). tolerates the ungodly number of throw pillows and blankets slowly accumulating on the couch and bed. conversely, if you’re a minimalist: double checks that you’re okay with a new throw pillow or blanket before buying. she doesn’t care that much about interior decor and is fine if you’d rather not, but just thought the fluffy pillow matched the bedroom walls nicely. her love? as mature as it is teasing — as considerate as it unpredictable. keeps you on your toes, but never leaves you hanging.

happily does most of the house chores. loves when you wrap yourself around him as he washes dishes. pretends he can’t hear you while vacuuming until you get juuust irritated enough to stomp over, unplug the vacuum, and press an annoyed kiss to the corner of his mouth. pulls you into an impromptu tango in the kitchen for no reason other than to dance with you. enjoys watching you put on lotion. on that note, enjoys helping you put on sunscreen. doesn’t typically sexualize it. just genuinely appreciates getting to take care of you. will chase you, lotion in hand, if he notices your skin’s dry. similarly, will gently scold you while dabbing you with aloe vera if you sunburn. sucks at drying himself off after showering — forgets his entire back and forearms. intentionally? maaaybe. he really likes how you scowl, gently tug his towel from his grasp, and thoroughly pat at his skin as you mutter about how he’s such a manchild. always makes the bed. usually up and about before you. waits for you to wake up and meander drowsily to the bathroom. voila! bed’s made by the time you return. usually has to make it a second time though, because you do your best to coax him into cuddling. But you just woke up? he’ll remark amusedly. But I need my daily dose of morning snuggles? you’ll retort. and who is he to deny you? he feels badly that you typically wake up alone. it’s just that he rises with the sun and gets antsy if he stays in bed too long. fortunately, a daily dose of morning snuggles seems like a fair compromise that he’s more than willing to make. respects you, himself, and your relationship too much to ever argue or fight. only listens, communicates, apologizes, and forgives. jolts as your cold hands and feet seek his warmth, sweltering under the comforter even as you shiver beside him. You’re lucky I love you he chuckles. Partner privileges you huff My amazing space heater. his love? as traditional as it is doting — as selfless as it is endearing. iced beverage on a summer day. hot beverage on a winter night. just right.

jellybeans, Skittles, Starbursts — whatever the candy, he avoids your favorite flavors. so what if he’s indefinitely resigned to eating weird jellybeans and orange Starbursts? if you’re happy, then he’s happy. pillowtalk. offers to be your DD (designated driver) for nights out on the town. begrudgingly sings duets with you. will occasionally sing the higher harmony if he can tell you’re in a crappy mood. just to hear you giggle. even if it’s at his expense. because his falsetto isn’t, err, the most polished. usually asleep first, mumbling Don’t stay up all night, okay? before he passes out. also wakes up first, and brings you a mug of coffee or tea. expression fond as he mutters exasperatedly You totally stayed up all night. keeps tabs on your emotional, mental, and physical energy. asks your friends to come visit when he can tell you need company, convinces you to call out from work when he can tell you need rest, and invites you to work out when he can tell you feel lethargic. shrugs off your attempts to thank him. thinks you’re adorable when you’re upset (in general). can’t hide the faint shadow of a smile. Are you listening? This is serious you scowl. frowns as he notices your bottom lip quivering, eyes glossy as you stubbornly blink away tears. I’m listening he’s focused now albeit still thinks you’re cute Do you want advice? Or just my presence? whatever you want, he’ll do his best to provide. if you’re upset (at him), then he becomes almost unbearably anxious. not a push over, but definitely huge on communication and problem solving. lowkey clueless at times, so he actually appreciates when you’re tough with him. not unnecessarily cruel, but upfront and straightforward about your expectations and standards. gets a kick out of seeming like your aggressive, scary partner. in reality, he tips 25%, holds open doors for strangers, and always stands when riding public transportation. murmurs Careful when the bus/train jerks forward, smooshing you into his chest. I’ve got you as he touches his palm lightly to your hip. prefers writing heartfelt letters versus spending money on gifts. his love? as subtle as it is undeniable — as awkward as it is steadfast. you’re turning him into a romantic, and he’s enjoying it. sees himself spending his future with you. hears himself sharing his past with you. feels himself etching the present with you. permeating the essence of his very being.

leaves you notes on the fridge. especially if he leaves for work before you. I miss you already; Date tonight? Text me; You drool in your sleep; I ate the last bagel, sorry; I love you. notices when you’re biting at your bottom lip. tugs it away from your teeth. kisses you softly. murmurs How about you vent to me instead of chewing at your pretty lip? on the theme of fridge, he always keeps it stocked. knows your go to essentials, and is also prepared for spontaneous cravings. popcorn? there’s stovetop and microwave. ramen? there’s multiple brands and flavors. baking endeavor? there’s milk, butter, eggs, sugar, and flour. not to mention, he’s mindful of your dietary restrictions and/or preferences. casual gamer. enjoys answering your questions. frequently invites you to play. with him, or in his stead. infinitely patient if you accept. doesn’t mind if you’d rather watch. touchy. hand on your thigh while driving. head in your lap while reading. footsie under the table while eating. genuinely pouts if you try to wash yourself while showering together. that’s his job thank you very much. doesn’t initiate contact as often in public, but never flinches away either. hold his hand, cling to his bicep, poke his cheek. he’ll blush and adore it. he may be reserved, but he sincerely appreciates how wanted, needed, desired you make him feel. will he playfully smack your butt around others? no. but does he mind if you playfully smack his butt (around others)? not at all. takes you out to fancier restaurants just so he can experience the tongue-tied, wordlessness that hits him square in the jaw every time he sees you dressed up. Giyuu? Still with me? you teasingly nudge him with your elbow. he gulps. swallows. gulps again. someday, he plans to render you speechless. getting down on one knee ought to do it… right? his love? as quiet as it is mesmerizing — as delicate as it is unwavering. seafoam hugging your toes. seaglass glinting. shimmering splendor of sunlit ocean.

massages you the moment you complain about anything being sore. gets super invested in whatever tv show(s) you’re watching. probably knows more of the gossip than you. dutifully waits for your weekly binge dates because he’s loyal and would never watch ahead. sarcasm unintended. he knows how heartbroken he’d feel if you watched that show without him, so he absolutely wouldn’t commit such a faux pas. if you like spoilers, then he’ll happily research and give you a heads up about anything particularly significant. if you dislike spoilers, then his lips are sealed. he doesn’t mind either way — he knows he’ll enjoy the show(s) regardless. stargazing. knows constellations besides the Big Dipper. tries to teach them to you. They’re dots you roll your eyes I really can’t tell them apart! he laughs delightedly, not at all offended This is true. knows the trick to solving corn mazes (any maze, actually), but only chimes in after an hour of mindless wandering. doesn’t entertain attempts to flirt with him. sure he’s very flattered, but your comfort and feelings are his priority. that being said, if you explicitly tell him I don’t mind, then he certainly indulges in ego boosting conversations. and he somehow always manages to mention My incredible partner sooner rather than later. randomly puts things on higher shelves. demands kisses before helping you retrieve them. walks up the stairs behind you because you tripped one time, and now he’s convinced you’re clumsy and doomed to tumble unless he’s there to catch you. also because he adores your ass. encourages you to wear whatever the hell you want. will fight (literal and metaphorical) anyone and everyone who bothers you. his love? as dedicated as it is fluid — as sensual as it is playful. individual and headstrong, supportive and bold. affirms that mistakes are okay. that learning is beautiful.​

[pierrotprincess]

hya hey! i jus recently got into the security break fnaf and it’s taken me over oops. so i was wondering if you’d be open to writing about the main 4 with a sweet tooth/lover of candy? thanks (ﾉ´ з `)ノ

(love your work btw)

HELP IM ALSO DROWNING IN FNAF

ANYWAYS, yeah, I really like this idea! (and also thank you so much omggggg (≧◡≦)) this also kinda ended up being about how well each member would be able to cook, what they would make for you, and their own preferences and stuff like that! hope you don't mind :}

I'm going to preface the hcs with; I headcanon that even if the animatronics don't need to eat food, they can still taste it and eat it so that at parties with kids it feels like they're more real! They have their own preferences with food!

Glamrock Freddy 🍯

Literally always has candy on him just for you, he's literally like a grandma (yes he has Werther's Originals and yes he has the little strawberry candies).

He used to fill his chest cavity with it, but it ended up melting and he ended up needing to be repaired.

Even though he indulges you and your sweet tooth, he does sometimes feel guilty about it since he knows it's bad for your health

He tries to make sure you've eaten something nutritious before giving you anything, but you're able to get by him very easily because of how trusting he is.

To add onto the headcanon I made about him leaving notes for you; he would also leave little candies along with the notes!

Though he's the second best in the band at cooking (first place belongs to Chica obviously), he absolutely cannot bake.

That doesn't mean he won't try though! He asks Chica to teach him her ways, and he's managed to perfect a chocolate chip cookie recipe!

He loves honey and puts it on everything.

Yes it's because he's a bear, no I will not elaborate.

Montgomery Gator 🌶

He pretends that he only likes spicy foods and will go so far as to just down hot peppers front of people. He also "doesn't like sweet things"

One night you waltzed into his green room and you caught him with marshmallows stuck on his claws like olives

Needless to say, you accept your mutual love of sweets, but that doesn't mean you'll ever let him live this one down.

0/10 cook/baker don't let him near the kitchen. Don't even let him order takeout. Literally if you asked him to cut anything, he'd stab at the food until it's turned into mush.

He's jealous that everyone else in the band but him has the ability to feed you, and he genuinely believes that the secret ingredient to good food is love.

He will literally steal sweets from small children to bring to you (he got caught by sun stealing from the daycare and was never the same again after that).

His favorite candy is warheads because he's a menace. 😁

DEFINITELY offers to beat piñatas with you as a romantic gesture.

Glamrock Chica 🧁

She feeds you EVERYTHING she bakes. She says she wants to perfect her recipes but you both know it's because she loves seeing you happy

She lets you lick the batter off of the spatula. :}}

Calls you a lot of baked good and just generally sweet related nicknames (sugar, muffin, sweet pea, CUPCAKE!!)

I also headcanon she has a southern accent, so those nicknames are exactly what you'd expect out of her.

We all obviously know she likes cupcakes, but I think her favorite baked goods are cake pops! She really likes to make them, and she also likes to make ice pops as well!

Without a doubt she'll hand feed you, and the others will tell you guys to get a room.

She'll save you the leftover cake from kids' birthday parties.

Roxanne Wolf 🥞

She can't cook very well, and she knows it, but she'll still insist on making you one thing. Pancakes! It's the only thing she knows how to make so be prepared for a lot of them.

She puts chocolate chips in your pancakes!

She doesn't really understand why you like sweet things so much, but she secretly thinks it's really cute

She thought you were going to get syrup or something on her when she first met you, and she called you a sticky IPad kid.

That was literally what she called you until you told her your name.

She would blame you if one of the keys on her keytar got jammed.💀

Though she works with kids, she hasn't tried much candy at all since she's so distracted with herself the majority of the time.

you bring in something new to share with her everyday!

She has a picture of you in her room of you eating straight whipped cream and sprinkles or something like that, and it's her favorite thing ever.

[cacoetheswriting]

a promise of forever

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader warnings: really just a big ball of fluff, a very brief mention of spencer's time in prison word count: 1.8k prompt: "i'm not very good with words..." summary: a rather unusual and a slightly delayed exchange of vows.

a/n: this is a my one shot submission for @ellesgreenaway 1k milestone celebration! india, a huge huge congratulations to you again 🎉 you're so incredibly talented and you deserve every single one of those follower, if not a million more! 🥳🧡 now, this is my first fic in a couple of weeks, and i think it's quite fitting that i wrote this instead of working on my own vows oops

-

A faint shine coming from the side lamp hit against the gold band on your finger, the glimmer instantly catching your eye. The book you were reading, was now closed in your lap and your gaze travelled to the ring, a smile creeping up on your features.

The item, however simple and dainty, carried with it so much meaning. Not only was it a symbol of undying everlasting love, showcasing to the world you were married to the person of your dreams. It was also a constant reminder of what you and Spencer overcame to get here. How far the two of you have come.

To say the last year was tough would be an understatement.

Spencer wasn’t the same after his release from prison. Often distant and quite reserved. His true self hidden from the rest of the world, afraid of getting so deeply hurt again. You of course didn’t put any blame on him for acting differently or resent him for it. What he went through was challenging enough, and you loved him more with each day regardless because he was still Spencer. Your Spencer.

And he adored your patience and your understanding. He adored the kindness you showed him while he regained control over his life. Simply, he adored you and he counted his blessings every day he spent with you.

One faithfull Saturday morning, Spencer asked you to marry him.

Completely out of the blue, while you were tangled together in the cotton bedsheets with morning breath and ruffled hair. He said he didn’t want to wait any longer because if his time in prison taught him anything, it would be not to waste moments with the people you cared about the most.

You cried. Tears of happiness, pure unfiltered joy.

Later, the very same day, the two of you stopped by a jeweler to invest in simple yellow-gold wedding bands before heading hand in hand to the court house. No muss, no fuss. No guests, no flowers, no cake, no vows. Nothing but unconditional love and a large order of chocolate chip pancakes afterwards, to celebrate.

It was the perfect day and you wouldn’t do it any differently.

You didn’t need anything else, neither did he. The memory along with the wedding ring was a promise in itself. A lifetime together. A lifetime of happiness. However, as you watched the band glisten on your finger, you couldn’t help but wonder what else Spencer would have promised you in his vows if he ever got a chance to say them.

And that’s how the brunette doctor found you - lost too deep in thought, attention solely focused on your wedding ring.

You, of course, didn’t hear him come in.

Spencer smiled to himself, quietly closing the door behind him so as not to startle you. He placed his bag down before ambling towards the back of the couch. His hands landed on your shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze to grab your attention, and you tilted your head up to look at him.

“Hi, my love.”

“Hello, beautiful.” Spencer bent over slightly, his lips catching yours in a tender welcoming kiss. “Let me go wash up quickly and you can tell me all about your day,” he added and you nodded, following him with your eyes until he disappeared into the bedroom.

While he cleaned himself up after an undeniably hectic workday, you sprung up on your feet and headed to the kitchen to cook up a late dinner for the two of you.

Spencer rejoined you shortly and immediately began playing sous chef, assisting you with preparing the meal. While the two of you worked over the various pots and pans, you exchanged with one another stories of how your days went. Listening attentively, joking together. Then you ate together before reconvening back to the couch.

A typical, and honestly, an ideal evening together when he wasn’t travelling.

“What were you thinking about earlier, when I got home?” Spencer asked, making himself comfortable next to you. You draped your legs over his lap with ease and his hands instantly made home on your thigh.

“Do you ever wonder what I would say to you in my vows if our wedding day looked any different?” you asked straight out, because there was no secrets between the two of you.

Spencer pondered the question for a moment before shaking his head. “No,” he answered honestly, “Do you?”

You briefly chewed on the inside of your cheek. “Sometimes,” you confessed, a hint of guilt and hesitance detectable in the tone of your voice.

He hummed softly at your response and proceeded to place a tender kiss on your temple. “I could tell you,” he murmured into your hair before pulling away, “If you’d like that is.”

His eyes found yours and a timid smile circled your lips at his offer.

“You don’t have to, Spence, I’m honestly happy not knowing and letting my imagination run free. Plus, I wouldn’t want to put you on the spot—”

“Y/N,” he politely cut in, “I’ve known what I would say to you in my vows ever since our first date.”

The sentence caused you to playfully roll your eyes, as the butterflies in your stomach fluttered free. “Hmm…” you smacked your lips together, “I don’t think I believe you,” you teased him with a chuckle.

Spencer pressed his tongue to his lips as he smirked at your comment. He took your innocent joke as a sort of challenge however, because in one swift motion, before you got a chance to react or say anything else, he pulled you in closer by your legs before taking your hands in his and giving them a gentle squeeze.

“I can recite the entirety of the English dictionary off by heart, but ironically I'm not very good with words—” Spencer began, his hazel gaze locking with yours, “—because when I think how to express how I truly feel about you, and how incredibly lucky I am to have you by my side, my mind goes completely blank and my eidetic memory is no longer of use.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle lightly, and you could just imagine the whole crowd laughing because whether Spencer liked to admit it or not, he was incredibly funny without even trying.

“However, as I sit here before you tonight, I will give my all to make the most sincere promise one heart can make to another. Y/N, I have waited a long time for you, and I promise from this day on until forever to be your constant love, your shoulder to cry on, your partner for life. I vow to give you the best of myself and not ask for anything in return. I vow to respect you. Respect your desires, your interests and needs.”

You could feel your eyes gloss over, as Spencer inhaled before continuing, "I promise to keep myself open to you and share with you my deepest feelings, thoughts, and dreams. I promise to continuously surprise you in hopes of bringing you joy and seeing you smile, because you have the most beautiful smile.”

Spencer gently rubbed circles into your hand with his thumb as he spoke, and the amiable loving look in his eyes made you think he didn’t really have these vows prepared beforehand, like he said he did.

He was speaking purely from the heart.

“I promise to love you through thick and thin. The good times and the bad. In sickness and in health. I promise to love you with every fibre of my being, until the end of time.” He paused, by that point salty wet droplets were slowly trailing down your jawline.

Spencer continued, “Now, I have been called many things in my life and gone by many different titles. From this day on however, the most important title I’ll hold is husband. Your husband.”

Silence filled the room once he concluded. A benevolent and earnest silence.

Nothing could have prepared you for what he said, and how his words would make you feel. How you thought it wasn’t possible to love him anymore than you already did, yet here the two of you sat and your heart swelled inside of your chest.

Spencer’s hand travelled to your cheek. He cupped it gently, wiping away any lone tears that escaped.

“You know—” you murmured, leaning into his touch and placing a kiss on the palm of his hand, “— for someone who claims they’re not good with words, you just strummed all the right heartstrings. I therefore dumb thee— a liar...”

The brunette doctor let out a soft chuckle at your comment and then proceeded to scoop you into his lap, completely effortlessly. He held you close by the waist while your fingers played with his brunette curls.

“And it’s a good thing you have an eidetic memory, my love, because I will ask you to recite those promises to me over and over and oveerrr again,” you added and Spencer threw his head back in a smooth laugh.

“How about I type them up and we can frame them instead?” he suggested, arching a brow. You licked your lips, considering the question for a moment, however before you got a chance to reply, Spencer added, “It would however, be nice to have both of our vows up...”

It was your turn to laugh, “I have nothing prepared, Spence. Not to mention, yours were so heartfelt and honest, I don’t think I can compete.”

The smile on Spencer’s face grew a little wider and he leaned in to peck your lips, “Say whatever that comes to mind, beautiful.”

“You’re not going to let this go now, are you?” you enquired and Spencer shook his head in response, a goofy grin plastered across his features.

“I really have my mind set on those frames now. Maybe we can hang them over our bed, or maybe we can dedicate a shelf to them in the bookcase.”

You raised a brow, “You’d give those frames a whole shelf?”

He nodded, “A whole shelf.”

The thought of your promises to one another typed up and on view for everyone that came to visit the apartment made you smile.

Glancing briefly at your wedding ring, looped among Spencer’s brunette curls, you nervously chewed on the inside of your cheek before glancing back into his hazel eyes. “I’m not very good with words—” you began with a modest tese, “—Therefore, I hope you don’t mind that I’m going to borrow someone else's.”

You paused, letting out a delicate shaky breath. “Atticus wrote, ‘I lost my way all the way to you and in you I found my way’. You are my everything, Dr. Spencer Reid. Thank you for choosing me, for loving me, for making me feel safe, for making me laugh, and for making my life a million times richer.”

Spencer’s lips found yours the second you finished, wrapping them in a gentle yet passionate kiss. A desirable sensation instantly spread through you, because when he kissed you like this, it was as if he was kissing you for the very first time.

“I love you,” Spencer whispered after slowly pulling away, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I love you too,” you expressed with a genuine smile.

-

masterlist

[forever-rogue]

42, 44 on Fluff for Mr. Grumpy Old Bucky Barnes?

42. “Darling I love you and all, but please step out of the kitchen.”

44. “You’re an idiot.” “But I am your idiot.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Bucky sighed softly as he looked at the mess strewn across the kitchen counters and floor. There was sugar, flour, salt and various other ingredients everywhere. It looked like a sweet, sugary bomb had gone off. The reality was much more pathetic - he'd attempted to make you some cookies. Something so basic that anyone should have been able to do it and yet...he had failed. Miserably.

"Oops," he said to himself as he looked over at Alpine, who was watching him with disdain from the back of the couch. The snowy white cat had followed him around the kitchen until it started to get messy and Bucky panicked. Alpine had trotted away and decided a nap would be a better use of time rather than watching Bucky struggle, "its the thought that counts, right?"

Alpine remained silent but offered Bucky a dismissal look along with a few tail twitches. The super soldier almost jumped at the sound of the oven timer, quickly reaching for his mitt before pulling out the single tray of cookies he managed to salvage.

Setting them atop the stove, he couldn't tell if he wanted to laugh or cry. The chocolate chip cookies he'd spent all afternoon working on were looking burnt and pathetic and looked more like lumps of coal than anything else. He couldn't give these to you; you'd just laugh at his pathetic attempts to try and bake.

He'd just wanted to do one nice thing for you and Bucky had somehow managed to fuck that up. He huffed in annoyance, wondering if he had time to go to your favorite bakery and pick up a new, fresh batch of cookies for you. It had been such a long week for you, and all he had wanted to do was to surprise you with something sweet - literally and metaphorically.

“I guess I’ll go first and then get all of this cleaned up…” he asked, wondering if he was talking to himself or Alpine. Alpine sniffed lightly but gave no other response, “I’ll just…”

“Hi Bub!” you happened to walk through the door right at that time. Of course you did. You beamed at him and Bucky’s heart swelled with affection as you dropped your bag and kicked off your shoes before bounding over to him, “I’ve missed you! It’s been such a long day and I- oh.”

“Hi honey,” he grinned sheepishly as he tried to hide the disastrous mess behind his broad form, “first of all, I want you to know I love you more than anything…”

“Darling, I love you and all, but please step out of the kitchen,” you tried to hold back your giggles as he offered you a nervous little smile. You could already see that this was going to be a huge mess to clean up but...you weren’t mad. Honestly, you weren’t sure if you could ever really be mad at Bucky, “lemme see what we’re working with…”

“I just...I wanted to do something nice for you,” his sigh was filled with defeat as he let you push him to the side. For a moment your face shifted through a series of emotions as Bucky prepared himself for your wrath. Instead...you laughed. You broke out into a fit of giggles as you took in the mess around the kitchen, including the pathetic excuse for cookies. Bucky was a lot of things, but a baker he was not.

“James,” you turned to him with a grin as he wore a mask of confusion. Why weren’t you yelling at him? It was then that you noticed the smudges of flour on his face. Reaching up, you gently wiped them away before pressing a gentle kiss to his nose, “you’re an idiot.”

“But I’m your idiot,” he insisted as leaned down and decided to distract you with a string of kisses, “sorry about the mess, I’ll clean it up right away.”

“It’s okay, Bub,” you promised softly, “it’s the thought that counts. And ugh...it looks like you put a lot of thought into everything.”

“I tried,” he shrugged as Alpine made a small sound on the couch, one clearly of disbelief, “I don’t think I’m meant to be a baker.”

“I love you for everything that you are,” you whispered as you carded a hand through his dark hair, “and everything you have been and will be - I don’t think a baker or chef will ever be one of those things. But that’s okay, Bub. You make me so happy.”

“Happy enough to go out to dinner and get your favorite dessert?” he asked as you nodded excitedly, “I was about to run to the bakery, but you came back. Let me just get a handle on this and we’ll go.”

“I’ll help,” you promised as you grabbed you some rags and tossed him one, “thank you, Bucky.”

“For what?”

“Being you,” your smile was small and saccharine, but enough to set his heart on fire and butterflies erupt in his stomach, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[arizona2004]

Who the Real Wolves Are.part 1

Azriel x reader

warnings: OC death(not too descriptive), eventual smut?

word count: 1777

There will be 2-4 parts total. Part 2 

It had just been an average day when I’d met Azriel. I was walking through the woods, taking the shortcut back to the small cottage I lived in with my grandmother. The first thing I noticed about him when we collided was how tall and built he was. It was frightening but also unbearably attractive. Then I noticed, looking up to his face, the beautiful color of his eyes- hazel. And they glowed golden in the sunlight. He’s beautiful, I thought. Behind him, I saw movement, and that’s when I noticed his wings.

They are magnificent, large, and as beautiful as his face. I take several paces back and continue admiring his wings. He’s fae, but that doesn’t frighten me as it should. I’m curious and step forward toward him. Now he’s the one to step back, and he cocks his head slightly as though confused or thoughtful.

I try again to take a step forward. He doesn’t move. I step again, and this time, looking up into his eyes, I reach out a hand to his wings. Quick as a fly, he grips my wrist and growls. That has me tensing, oops, I think. But when I look back into his eyes, they don’t look as angry as I feared. I relax slightly and try to pull my wrist back. 

He lets go and asks, “What are you doing in the woods?” Now he does sound angry.

What gives him the right to be angry at me, I think, and say, “walking.”

“It’s not safe out here,” he says, “you shouldn’t be walking by yourself” 

“Oh, really? I walk this path every day. I’ve never encountered anything dangerous.”

“Before today,” he responds, indicating himself.

“Are you threatening to harm me if I walk this path again?”

“No. There are dangerous things other than just me out here.”

“Well I don’t think you’re very dangerous at all,” I say, sticking out my chin.

“I’m very dangerous,” he sounds defensive now. It makes me laugh, and he furrows his brow at that, “what?” he asks. It makes me laugh harder, and I push forward, walking past him. “Don’t just walk away from me,” he grumbles behind me, “I’m very dangerous.”

He followed me home that day, but I didn’t mind. When I stood feet from the door to my house, I felt his presence fading and turned around. He wasn’t there. He was shooting into the air, and I assumed I’d never see him again, but that didn’t stop me from hoping. 

Every day for the next two weeks, I searched for him on my way home, but he was never there. Then, one evening, I felt someone watching me. I was in nearly the same spot I had been when we collided weeks ago. I stopped and spun around looking, but I didn’t see him. Then, far in the distance to my left, I spotted him. Or just his hazel eyes. He was covered in shadows; it looked as though a tree was swallowing him. 

As soon as our eyes connected, though, he vanished, and I was alone again. I walked the rest of the way home in confusion and slept fretfully that night. My thoughts were filled with questions and feelings I didn’t understand. I wonder about his name. I want to see him again. I want to touch him too. I want to know why he disappeared and what he was doing on that trail. Mostly, I want to know what his lips taste like.

I’ve been kissed many times before. Some were sloppy. Others fine. And a few were even good. I’d never done anything more intimate than kissing, but this male made me question what exactly I’d let him do to me if he tried.

Several more days pass before I sense him watching me again. This time I don’t look for him -afraid I’ll scare him away. I just stop in my tracks and speak to the space in front of me, “you never told me your name.” Seconds pass, and there’s no response. 

I’m about to walk away when I hear from behind me, “Azriel.”

I turn to find him standing feet away from me on the path, “Azriel,” I repeat.

“Yes?”

Why are you watching me?” I take a step toward him.

“What’s in the basket?” he asks, avoiding the question and my eyes.

“Cookies for my grandmother. They're her favorite. Chocolate chip. Do you want one?” I ask the last bit, sticking my hand into the basket and pulling out a cookie, walking closer to him. I lift the cookie to his lips and watch as he takes a bite. His lips graze my fingers as he bites into the cookie. 

“Delicious,” he says, grabbing my wrist, pulling it toward my lips. He stares into my eyes as he takes another bite. I swallow and try to calm myself down. When he finishes the cookie, I pull my gaze away from his face. I try, at least, but there's chocolate on his lip. Instinctively, I brush my thumb over his lip and pick up the chocolate. He sucks my thumb into his mouth, licking up all the chocolate, then releases it with a pop. 

I’m faintly aware of the squeaky noise I make at his actions and the wobbling of my legs, but I just continue looking into his eyes.

“The sun’s about to set,” he says, “You probably should get home.”

And so I start walking home, and he walks by my side. When we’re mere feet from the house, again, he disappears into the sky.

This continues for many more weeks. Moments after I enter the forest, Azriel is standing next to me. Occasionally we talk, but most days, we walk in silence. And after dreaming of it plenty, and probably not thinking it through enough. I lean over and kiss him before he flys away. I had only intended to kiss his cheek, but he had been turning toward me, so the kiss had been placed on the corner of his mouth. When I skipped the few more feet to the house, I felt his eyes on my back, and a grin plastered my face. 

The day following, Azriel, it seemed, decided to follow my lead. When he met me in the woods and walked me home, he stopped further from the house, this time. I turned to him, and he leaned down, placing his lips to mine. They were soft and warm. I leaned into the kiss, and when I did, his tongue darted out to lick the seam of my lips. I moan, opening my mouth for him. 

His tongue swept into my mouth and gently caressed my own. The kiss was slow and gentle except where Az’s teeth nipped at my lips. My hands held onto him tightly at his shoulders while he gripped my thighs, pulling me up to him. I had never been kissed quite like this before. It was soft and hard at the same time. I felt encased in the kiss. I never wanted my lips to part from his. The way his lips, tongue, and teeth moved with mine had me moaning and wanting more.

After some time, however, Azriel pulls back. We’re both gasping for breath, foreheads pressed together, and Azriel sets me on my feet. He takes a step back, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, without looking directly at me, lips pulling up at the corners.

“I-” I try to respond, but he’s already pushed into the air. I walk the rest of the way home, grinning wildly, and collapse into bed that night thinking of our kiss.

The weeks that follow are similar. Some days we walk. Some we talk. And other days, we find ourselves rolling through the brush tangled in each other’s arms.

One evening Azriel does not show himself, which isn’t unusual. What is strange, however, is arriving home to find men in my house. They’re speaking to my gran and when I arrive point their questions at me. 

Have you seen a fae male? Spoken to him? Fraternized with him?

“You know our laws about the fae, don’t you deary?” The man in charge asked when I’d denied all his accusatory questions.

I did, of course. My village didn’t allow any relations with the fae. And the law wasn’t just against the fae, but the people too. Since the wall fell, the village leaders made rules about interacting with fae. Anyone thought to be aiding or supporting a faerie was considered a fae fraternizer and sentenced to death. The children of the blessed didn’t dare come near our village, they’d be killed on sight.

���Yes. I’m aware. I haven’t had any relations with any fae. I’ve never even seen one.” I say as steadily as I can manage. I glance at my gran and fear I: revealed everything with the look in my eyes.

“Are you sure? There have been reports of a winged man in the area. People say they’ve seen him near this cottage. With a woman. Though no one is sure if the woman is human or not, I think she is.” He looks at me pointedly, and I want to correct his misuse of pronouns. Azriel is no mere ‘man’. I hold my tongue, though.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The man’s face lights up, and he pulls a dagger from his belt. Then a quiet voice says next to me, “it was me,” my face falls, and I look to my gran in horror. The man turns the dagger toward gran, “I met the male in the woods while picking berries. He didn’t seem to care about my wrinkled age; he’s quite old himself. I’ve-” She didn’t get to finish the sentence, though, as he struck her.

I immediately was pulled from my shock and shouted as I lunged at the man. The other men simply pulled me away. I fought at every turn, and they beat me relentlessly. They only stopped when I was bloody on the ground. Unable to move. The leader of the group knelt where my grandmother sat, crouched on the floor, weeping for me, and plunged the knife into her chest. A choked cry left my throat. The men left us lying on the floor after swearing threats. I didn’t hear any of it, though. My attention was focused on the lifeless body of my gran, inches from me. I struggled to breathe and reached out my hand for hers. She was cold, and I realized it was hours later. Then darkness came and swept me away.

[spindlebeforesunset]

Pranksters and the Pranked

(because it is April Fools at my place already)

Ace Trappola - prankster

• got their other two roommates to participate in pranking Deuce

• set the room clock 3 hours later than usual

• while the two roommates were "busy preparing for the school day" at 2 am, Ace flicks open the lights and starts turning them on and off and shouts "OI DEUCE WAKE UP, WE'RE LATE"

• he finally yeets a pillow at Deuce's face to wake him up

Deuce Spade - pranked

• a very confused Deuce wakes up, sees that the three of them are already dressed, looks at the clock, and panic dresses himself

• "wheresmyhomeworkwheresmyhomework-"

• only when he runs out in the rose garden does he finally see that, it's still nighttime, no he isn't late, and yes, his sleep was ruined

• trudges back to the dorm room where he finds them all cracking up

• he chucks a pillow at Ace before promptly flopping back on his bed

• with his shoes on (n a s t y)

---

Cater Diamond - prankster

• has a plastic cockroach toy in his pocket as he is to serve Riddle tea again on this fine day

• Riddle is having a nice time admiring the roses and often sticks his teacup out for Cater to fill

• while Riddle is inspecting a rose, Cater pours the tea and slips the plastic cockroach inside the teacup as well

• he doesn't change his expression when he hands back the teacup

Riddle Rosehearts - pranked

• Riddle sips the warm tea and feels something solid touching his lips

• he looks down

• immediately drops the teacup starts screaming there's a fucking cockroach in the teacup

• he realizes that Cater is doubled over laughing so he takes the opportunity to whoop Cater's head before storming off

---

Trey Clover - pranked

• he's bored and decides to make cookies

• he double checks the chocolate chips bag to ensure that they were not replaced with chocolate covered raisins like what Che'nya did last year

• no raisins, so he shrugs his shoulders that Che'nya had really ran out of ideas after many years

• takes out the ingredients necessary for the cookies and starts to mix the ingredients

• the process is going fine until he cracks an egg

• there's no liquid yolk pouring out

• he looks at the insides and finds that the egg has been fully hardboiled

• "... I should've known better," he sighs

• somewhere in the kitchen, an invisible RSA student laughs

---

Ruggie Bucchi - prankster

• gives Leona a package that appears to be from Cheka as there is a letter written in crayon and with childish handwriting

• stands near Leona's bed when he opens it

Leona Kingscholar - pranked

• he doesn't expect anything except maybe a small zebra toy

• but when he shakes the package and heard nothing he immediately thinks it is sus AF

• he glares at Ruggie, but even Ruggie doesn't appear to know anything

• he tears the wrapper, opens the box, and reads the words written ddirectly at the bottom: when will I get paid :(

• "Nice try Ruggie, I'll think about it."

• before he crashes back to his pillow, he sees Ruggie face droop along with his ears

Jack Howl - the only safe one

• by some miracle, the only student in school who did not fall into a prank

---

Floyd Leech - prankster

• beware Floyd and his pranks, because he will prank just about anybody

• he started with Azul, sneaking in Azul's bedroom (with the latter still asleep) and replacing Azul's glasses with glasses with lens he colored in black marker

• next, while Jade is in the bathroom, he replaces Jade's usual school tie with one that shifts colour and pattern every hour or so (now, it currently looks like the regular school tie)

• set up buckets full of water in the first year classrooms (Epel was dowsed in one, Sebek too, the last being Grim)

• handed Divus a blank assignment (written in invisible ink), but before Divus can even scold him, he passes the paper near a fire where the answers finally appear where Divus takes it with a huff

Azul Ashengrotto - pranked

• he wakes up and puts on his glasses by the bedside table

• how come he can't see

• it takes his sort of sleepy self two minutes to put two and two together

• instantly groans, knowing that Floyd definitely has his real glasses

Jade Leech - pranked

• he puts on his tie as he normally would and walks out the room

• when Ruggie asks him why his tie looked so funky in the middle of the day, he takes it off and finds that it has a silly banana pattern

• facepalms

• h a r d

• that he walked around with who-knows-a-probably-weirder-pattern around the school

---

Kalim Al-Asim - prankster & pranked

• harmlessly pranked by Jamil when he believed the milk was coconut juice (was kinda disappointed though)

• has slapped whoopee cushions everywhere underneath all the seats in Scarabia just for the heck of it to the chagrin of practically everyone

• asks Silver what's up with his blazer because what even is that

Jamil Viper - prankster

• he started with Kalim and the cocount juice

• knew full well that the seats were full of whoopee cushions and avoids sitting on all of them

• managed to trick Grim that he had tuna cans and when he gave Grim one, he excused himself that he had somewhere to go

• he watches hidden behind a pillar as Grim opens the tuna can and finds nothing but sand inside

• has to kick himself to stop his laughter from seeing Grim's disappointed face

---

Rook Hunt - prankster

• he was going to prank both Vil and Epel, but after hearing how the latter was dowsed in water for first period, decides to just prank Vil

• slaps cake icing inside an empty and expensive lotion bottle and wraps it with a ribbon

• he runs to Vil in the dormitory after classes and says it was left near his doorstep so tue sender must've mixed the rooms up

• unfortunately, Vil's door is closed on him

Vil Schoenheit - pranked

• after deciding not to scold Epel with the water fiasco, he takes the lotion bottle from Rook and takes it to his room, not seeing the "and I oop" face

• he squirts out a small amount of lotion on his palm and finds that it smells... weirdly fruity

• suspicious now, he rubs it with his palms and (despite all what he knew about beauty products) licks a tiny bit of it to confirm what it was

• blueberry icing

• "... well, it could have been worse."

• ends up tripping where he uses his hands to break the fall and realizes what a big mistake he's made with his sticky palms

• internally groans

Epel Felmier - pranked (can we get an F)

• as soon as he feels his clothes get wet and the bucket land on his head, he knew he was fucked for the whole day and goes through classes with a sheepish expression

---

Idia Shroud - pranked

• he decides to go outside and get something from the vending machine for once

• takes one step out and slides on a rug by his doorstep that was never there before

• "This is a warning, so maybe I'll just stay inside as always."

• gets back to his room where Ortho asks if he was just pranked as today was April Fools

• "...yep, I'm staying here the whole day."

• "Brother, no."

• unfortunately, they don't know who set up that rug

---

Lilia Vanrouge - prankster

• the only person who can and will prank Malleus Draconia

• he hides a small and cheap speaker at full blast (connected to his phone) inside Malleus' closet the day prior

• plays the end part of In the Hall of the Mountain King in a loop at exactly 3 am and everyone hears it in the halls

• tricks Sebek to believe that his crappily made cake would give whoever ate it additional strength, claiming the recipe was well-known back in his day

• swaps the black coffee powder with powdered chocolate milk just because

• swaps Silver's blazer with a seemingly normal one, but the back reads: If lost, return to Malleus

Malleus Draconia - pranked

• that music is straight up panic inducing and hurries to find it

• ends up finding it half an hour and yeets it out the window because he can't turn it off

• he's annoyed but goes back to sleep

• is huffy that he can't have coffee

• promptly confused why Silver is brought to him near lunch break until he sees what's at Silver's blazer at the back

• "Did he just..."

Sebek Zigvolt - pranked

• additional strength from the cake you say? THE BETTER TO SERVE WAKA-SAMA

• does not see the already facepalming Silver preparing the morning coffee

• takes a mouthful of it and starts chewing it before realizing something was not right

• "Sebek, I didn't think you would actually eat it. I made it bad on purpose."

• now that's a way to add insult to injury

• if he thought his morning was not already humiliating enough, he gets dowsed in water by Floyd's bucket

• him the whole day be like (;*△*;)

Silver

• poor Silver already knew full well of Lilia's antics, yet he still has no way out of it

• he puts on his blazer, not expecting anything wrong

• the powdered milk instead of coffee did annoy him though

• however, when Kalim shoves him to Malleus near lunch, he's shook

• until Kalim tells him to take off his blazer to show the both of them what was embroidered at the back

• "You mean I went out like this?"

• "It appears so," says Malleus

• "Oof," from Kalim

[keiyoomi]

11 and Tsukishima please? 🥰🥰🥰

details: 1.4k words | fluff | 11. “I crave your affection, but I crave your silence even more– shut up.”

After patiently waiting for months, Tsukishima Kei’s much awaited vacation leave has finally arrived. He opened the sliding doors that leads to their backyard and lied on the wooden flooring. The iced tea he made earlier was long forgotten as he enjoyed the warm breeze brushing against his soft skin.

What made it better is the fact that aside from the rustling of leaves and the chirping of cicadas, their residence is filled with silence.

Something that he’s been craving for is finally within his rea—

“Ke~i! Oi!”

His eyebrows twitched as soon as he heard a loud voice coming from their doorway. “Tsu~” He heard something hitting the wooden floor, followed by your loud monologue. “Oops. Auntie would definitely scold me if she finds my footwear like this.”

Tsukishima refused to acknowledge your presence and pretended that he didn’t hear you. “She’ll leave if she doesn’t see anyone home,” he thought as he turned to his side just to avoid seeing you. “How did she even managed to enter—?”

Tsukishima sighed as he realized that his mother gave you a spare key to their house a very long time ago to look after him when he was sick. He knew you tried to give it back to them, but for some reason, his mother refused.

“Well, I don’t really care if she barge in here or if she stops visiting this place.” Tsukishima assumed that he would be pleased with the thought of you, staying away from him and his family. But the deep frown on his face screams otherwise. “I really won’t mind,” he insisted in his mind.

However, his eyebrows were nearly touching each other while imagining a life without seeing your bright smile while talking about anything that comes to your mind. From the funny advertisement you’ve watched on TV by chance, to that awful encounter that happened to you recently.

He won’t say it out loud, but he was grateful that he didn’t have to ask you questions that might sound impolite (for prying into your private life.)

“Ke~ Oh! There you are!” He composed himself before turning towards you. Your cheerful demeanor reminds him so much of his favorite season—summer. “I’ve brought something for you as soon as I’ve heard that you’re spending some time here.”

You placed a box next to his half-full glass of iced tea before sitting behind the box. “I was hoping to share this cookies with you as soon as I’ve tasted it the other day.”

He huffed before slowly rising from where he was sleeping. “And? Where did you bought it?” he asked as he took the lid off of the box. He tried to control his expression as soon as he sees the horrendous state of the chocolate chips on the cookies.

“Ah. It melted.”

He wanted to point out the warm air, but he kept his mouth shut to avoid sounding ungrateful. “Are you sure these tastes good, huh?”

You eagerly nod your head in response. “Of course!” Then, you scratched your cheek. “Well, aside from its horrendous appearance right now.”

He grabbed one cookie and bitten half of it. His eyes slightly widened upon tasting the well-made cookie biscuit that blended well with the chocolate chip. He finished the first cookie before looking at your pleased reaction.

He cleared his throat before reaching out for the glass of iced... well, lemon tea. “So, where—ehem—where did you buy this?” he asked.

You clapped your hand as soon as he began munching the second cookie from the box on his lap. “Well, I just happened to discover that place one morning while I was running some errand. I’ve always wanted to visit that place since the first time I smelled on of their freshly baked pastry. Anyway, I was on my way home when I finally paid that place a visit—”

Tsukishima wanted to curse himself for asking the wrong question at that time. He knew how you usually respond whenever you were asked about something you enjoy and love. You’ll start from somewhere, then in the middle of it you’ll discuss another topic. Sometimes, you even tend to forget what you were talking about in the first place.

But even if it’s like that, he never tried to stop you from blabbering non-stop. Honestly, he quite enjoy the fact that you’re willing to tell him anything that’s on your mind without paying any attention to anyone else.

It was as if there was only the two of you in that little bubble.

“—Then, one time—” He raised his eyebrow when he caught you staring at him. Why did she suddenly stop? “—am I talking too much?” you asked.

“Don’t mind,” he briefly responded as he enjoys the treat you gave him.

“Where was I... Ah! Right. One time, I invited that former basketball player at school, the one who usually frowns at you whenever you meet? That guy. He said he enjoyed the biscuits too and he also—”

“Tch.” He couldn’t keep himself from reacting as you speak fondly about another guy.

“Tsuki—”

“Kei. We’ve agreed that you’d call me that way, right?”

You turn away from him while covering the lower half of your face. Upon seeing your reaction, he unconsciously rubbed the back of his neck and looked away fron you too. His cheeks were slightly tinted with reddish hue.

“Should I keep going?”

He let out a sigh. “Go.”

“So, while we were walking—”

“He walked you home?” he asked with a loud voice.

“Y-Yeah. He did. We’re going in the same direction anyway.”

That guy is obviously lying. He knew where that guy leaves. At least, when you were still studying in Karasuno. “Proceed.”

“He wasn’t saying anything so I didn���t say anything either.”

Tsukishima couldn’t believe what he was hearing from you. ‘You weren’t able to say anything to that guy? Was it an awkward silence or were you both comfortable with each other that no words were needed to express how you feel?’

“Oi, why are you looking at me that way?”

“Hm? In what way?”

“Like you were trying to weigh whether I was lying or not.”

“I’m not.” He cleared his throat and sat up straight. “And? What happened after that?”

You scratched your cheek as you avoid his gaze. ‘Did... Did that guy kiss her?’

“Nothing happened after that. But...”

“But?”

“Something crossed my mind during that time.” He unintentionally leaned closer to you. “Well... uh... how should I...” You tried to look at his eyes, but you immediately looked down at your pointer fingers. “Uh... I was imagining h-how...” you cleared your throat as you stuttered. “How I’d be like if I was with you.”

You raised your hands and began flailing. “Y-You see among all my peers, you were the only one who could listen to me and my random ramblings. I-It’s not like I really really like you, but—” Your eyes widened as soon as you realized what you’ve said. “—Uh... I swear...! I just—You were nice and polite that whenever I say something that’s too much, you do not just cut me off like—”

You paused as soon as you felt his soft lips on your forehead. “I crave your affection, but I crave your silence even more—” Then, he pulled you closer to him. His arms wrapped around you while your face is buried against his chest. “—shut up.”

Tsukishima grinned in satisfaction as soon as he felt your arms around his abdomen. He heard enough affirmation from you. Now, it’s his turn to give back what you deserve.

[anadorablekiwi]

I present to you a oneshot that introduces my newest OCs, Niko and Aryll. Niko finds something magic in his grandpa’s attic and ends up having a fun mini adventure (with some minor panic at some point) 

Content and picrews for reference under cut

Niko and Aryll

The Story of How They Met

(creative title I know)

“Ooo, what's this?” 

A head popped up from the inside of a box, and the young man stood, holding a decorated box and studying it curiously. 

Niko had been bored, so he decided to explore his grandfather’s attic for any cool treasures that may be in hiding. So far, he had found a couple old swords, a shield, and a bunch of boring books popular among the nobility. He knew he was a descendant of one of the past Queens, although he doesn’t remember which one. He loved listening to his grandpa’s stories, but all the numbers in the past Queens’ names just blurred together. Niko was pretty sure the respective king was named Link though.

Niko carefully opened the box, nearly vibrating with excitement. This was the nicest box he’s seen, surely it holds something amazing. Sitting inside the box on a bed of green velvet was… 

“a weird pinecone?? What's so special about a pinecone?” He reached in the box to pick it up, but as soon as he touched the object a strange magic coursed through him. The world seemed to grow in size around him, and he felt his body change. The box he had been holding fell to the ground, startling him. Niko lept back, surprised to see he actually had jumped pretty high and far. What just happened?

Slowly, Niko raised his hand into view. Or, more accurately, paw. 

I’m a cat?? COOL!! Niko’s new fur was a sleek black, much like his own hair. Experimentally, he crouched down, wiggling a bit like he’d seen cats do as he stared down a nearby box. 

Niko sprang forward, triumphant to have surpassed the height of the box first try. Only to fall straight through the cardboard and land on a pile of books. Oh yeah. That’s the box I was just looking through. Oops. 

A bit embarrassed, he jumped back out of the box and onto another nearby that he hadn’t touched yet. From his new vantage point, he looked around the attic. If I can get out of this attic, maybe I can mess around with some of those stuffy nobles. 

A refreshing breeze blew through, ruffling his fur. Oh! The window! Good thing I opened it already. 

He quickly made his way to the window and jumped out onto the roof. Niko stretched, relishing his newfound freedom. 

~~~

Niko crouched, repositioning himself as he stared down his target from the low overhang. A little closer… There! He jumped off, landing perfectly on the man’s head and knocking off the hat that had previously been situated on top. 

Unfortunately, he had not thought ahead beyond this, and soon found himself falling alongside the large hat. 

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing you darn cat??” 

Niko somehow managed to land on his feet and took off running, dodging and weaving through the crowded streets. Once he decided he had sufficiently lost the man, he stopped and took in his surroundings. 

Somehow he had ended up at castletown’s central square. The fountain in the center was huge compared to his own small size, and the square was crowded as ever, people hurrying on their way as they went about whatever errands they had. 

A delicious smell caught his attention and he looked around. Ooo, the bakery! Man, I want a cookie so bad… Niko glanced back at the fountain, a glistening blue rupee catching his attention in the shallow water. 

Hmm, I don’t want to get wet, but maybe… 

A few minutes later, Niko triumphantly trotted to the bakery, a little wet with the rupee in his mouth. 

He jumped on the counter, deposited the rupee in front of the poor cashier he startled, grabbed a fresh chocolate chip cookie gently with his mouth, jumped off the counter, and trotted back out of the store. As he left, he could hear a baffled “Did that cat just buy a cookie?!”

Niko decided to make his way to the edge of town near the forest so he could have a quiet place to eat his prize. He settled into the soft grass, placing the warm cookie on his paws as he chowed down. It’s a beautiful day today. The sun is shining, birds are singing, I have a fresh chocolate chip cookie, I’m a cat… life is good. 

Once the cookie was finished, he stood and shook off any stray crumbs. Well, this has been fun. I should probably head back though. I wonder what else I can find in that attic… 

Niko took a couple steps forward, then froze. Wait… how do I turn back? Oh no, what if I’m stuck as a cat for the rest of my life?? What am I gonna do?? My family will be worried sick, and what if something bad happens because people think I’m a normal cat? *GASP* I’LL NEVER GET TO HAVE MY MOM’S COOKIES EVER AGAIN! She’d never give a cookie to a stray cat, no matter how cute it was! 

He started pacing back and forth, panicking as he thought of all the baked goods things he can never have again. In his panicked state, Niko didn’t notice his ‘pacing’ had become more like ‘walking straight towards the nearby cottage’ until he walked straight into a wooden post.

Owwww…  he backed up a few steps and finally took in his surroundings. The cottage was cute, and surrounded by gardens and flowers. It looked like a wildlife paradise- bird baths, bird feeders of many different kinds, even fairy feeding stations. There were a few bird houses scattered through the flowers, and in front of the house was a sign (which he had just rammed his head into) that read, ‘The Witch’s Brew: Potions, Magic, and more!’

Witch? Oh oh oh, maybe she can change me back with her magic! Yes, this is a great plan! I just have to find the witch and ask her to change me back! … … how am I gonna ask her to change me back? Niko shook his head and started looking for a way inside. Whatever, I'll cross that bridge when I get to it. First I have to find a way in. Hey, an open window! Score! 

~~~

Aryll had been having a great day so far. The plants were doing well, the wildlife was happy, she didn’t mess up any of the potion batches, and she even found an old spell book with plant-related spells she can try out! 

She walked into the kitchen and placed the book on the counter. Aryll glanced at the sink, noticing that it was somehow filled with water. “Huh, the plug must’ve slipped and I didn’t notice. Whoops. How did it get so full without me noticing though?” She took a step towards the sink when suddenly, a black blur practically flew in her window, landing straight in the sink with a splash. Aryll jumped back, letting out a surprised squeak. 

A now soaking wet cat jumped out of the water. What the- aw come on! The cat looked like it was about to shake off the water, so Aryll stepped forward again quickly.

“No! Wait, don’t shake please, I can get you a towel! Please don’t get my kitchen all wet…”

The cat froze, slowly lifting its head to look at her. Who are you?? 

Aryll huffed and put her hands on her hips. “You come leaping into my kitchen and have the audacity to ask me who I am?”

Wait… you can understand me?!?! 

“Of course I can! I’m a witch after all, do you really think I wouldn’t bother learning the spell that lets me speak to animals?”

Well, technically you don’t need a spell to talk to animals, only if you want to actually understand them. The cat grinned, clearly pleased with the joke.

Aryll rolled her eyes. “Oh whatever, you know what I mean. Now stay right there, and I’ll fetch you a towel and dry you off.”

A few minutes later, Aryll and the black cat were in her living room, the latter considerably drier. “There you are, all dry. My name’s Aryll, what might yours be, little one?” 

I’m Nikoloas Bartholomew the third, he answered instinctively. The cat winced. Ah, I mean, you can just call me Niko. 

The young witch giggled. “Well it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Now, why exactly did you jump into my kitchen window?”

OH YEAH! I completely forgot about that! I was exploring my grandpa’s attic and found this magic pinecone and when I touched it I became a cat and it was really fun at first but then I realized I don’t know how to change back and you HAVE to help me please please please!!! He looked up at her, eyes pleading. 

She stared down at the cat. “... Did you eat some bad mushrooms, or….”

What? No, I did eat a cookie though. But wait that's not the point, please help me! If I can’t change back into a Hylian then I’ll never get to eat my mom’s cooking again!

“Okay you definitely ate some weird mushrooms. Oh, are you hungry? I think I’ve got some jerky around here somewhere…”

No, I- wait did you say jerky? Niko obediently followed her into the kitchen. Aryll poked around the cupboards a bit, finally retrieving a large piece of jerky and giving it to him. He happily munched on it as she continued looking through cupboards. 

“Hm, let's see here. Do you want some milk? Oh wait, isn’t milk bad for adult cats or something? But on second thought, you are pretty small… How old are you Niko?”

He looked up from his jerky, a mixture of baffled and mildly offended. I- what- Hey I am too an adult! Wait wait wait I’m getting sidetracked again. You've got to believe me, please! I didn’t eat something weird, I really am a hylian who got turned into a cat! My grandpa has lots of fun and old stuff in his attic so I was exploring when I found a really fancy box. In the box was some pinecone-looking object, and when I touched it I turned into a cat! Can you change me back?

The young witch paused her search for a suitable dish and tilted her head. “Wait, are you actually serious?” 

Yes! Pleaseeee, I can’t live without homemade cookies and my mom would never give a random cat a cookie, please help me!! 

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re an adult?” 

What?? Of course I am! Just help me and you'll see!

She laughed. “I’m just teasing you, don’t worry. I don’t know much about transformation magic, but I can try. i know this may sound like a stupid question, but i have to ask just in case. Have you tried imagining yourself turning back into your normal self?”

Niko’s pleading eyes quickly changed to unimpressed ones. I’m stupid aren’t I. He did as she suggested, and sure enough, a few seconds later Niko was standing in front of her, fully Hylian. “I can’t believe I didn't try that, oh my word. Thank you for the help, Aryll. And sorry for invading your kitchen.” He laughed nervously and brought his hand to the back of his neck. 

Aryll looked torn between shock and amusement. She just looked at him for a good moment and he stood there in silence awkwardly. Finally, she tilted her head and spoke. 

“You know, I don't know why it never occurred to me that cats don't have brown eyes. They're very pretty, by the way. I like them.”

“I- uh- wh-what?” Niko’s eyes widened in shock and he could feel heat rising to his cheeks. He cleared his throat, trying desperately to maintain any possible dignity in this situation. 

“Ah, uh, thank you.” For the first time somehow, he finally made eye contact and registered the witch’s eyes. They were two different shades of blue; her right was a light greenish blue, and her left was a deeper blue. “Whoa, your eyes are gorgeous,” he blurted. “Are they naturally like that or did you do something fancy with them? It’s beautiful.” 

Now it was Aryll’s turn to blush a little. “Oh, thank you. That's very kind of you to say. They’re naturally like this, it's just the eyes I was born with I guess.” She cleared her throat, then pointed to his chest. “Is that the magic pinecone you were talking about?”

He looked down to see that sure enough, the object he had touched earlier was now innocently sitting against his tunic, strung on a long cord that now lay around his neck. “Huh. Yep, that’s it.”

Aryll leaned forward, careful to not get too close. “It’s giving off clouds of dark magic energy, how did your grandpa happen across a dark magic relic like this? And more importantly, how on earth did ‘imagining yourself as hylian’ actually work??” 

“What? But that was your suggestion, what do you mean ‘how did it work’?”

She straightened up. “This isn't your average transformation magic. Normal stuff, usually if you’re calm and just imagine changing back it'll work. But with dark magic, the dark magic has to be expelled from within you by light magic. Well, usually anyways. So how did you manage that? How fascinating.”

“Huh. Light magic you said? Maybe being descended from one of the past queens has something to do with it? You know, the whole ‘bloodline of the goddess’ stuff. That's my best guess anyways.” He shrugged casually. 

Aryll’s eyes widened and she froze. “You’re Nobility???” 

Niko winced. “Oops. Sorry, I uh. Usually try to not tell people that. I really don’t see what the big deal is about nobles, there’s nothing that sets us apart from the average common folk aside from wealth and being snobby and self-centered.” He scowled at the thought.

 “Well, most anyways. My family is fine, for the most part. And I try my hardest to not be like that. But yeah, that’s why my name is weird and why I instinctually blurted the whole darn thing when you asked. I was taught from a young age to always answer with my full name, and it’s kinda hard to break that habit. Sorry again, heh.” Niko laughed nervously and ran his fingers through his hair, freezing mid motion. “Wait, did I not do my hair today??” He groaned and buried his face in his hands, loose hair falling in his face.

Aryll smiled and laughed. “I’m guessing you usually have it pulled back? I think it looks nice, at any rate. And stop apologizing, you have nothing to be sorry for. How about we move back into the living room and keep talking there? I can also make some mint tea, if you like.”

Niko looked up again, smiled, and nodded. “That sounds great to me.”