#i'll bring it to my grandparents later

[belteppismo]

I've (almost) baked a cake! I'll share a picture once it's ready

[deliciousangelfestival]

Love Me A Little

Character: Secretary!Bucky x Female!Reader

Words: 1,539

Summary: "Love me, even just a little." When she uttered those words, they struck Bucky like a bolt of lightning, leaving him utterly bewildered. After all, he was just a secretary—his world and hers seemed galaxies apart.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

A/N: Check out the male version of this story - Be Mine.

It was already 1:00 a.m., and the streets lay deserted, easing Bucky's drive. The sleek black Bugatti smoothly entered the apartment basement car park. Just one more turn, and he would find his usual parking spot.

"Screech." The sound of tires screeching echoed in the empty basement.

"Huh?" Bucky's foot instinctively hit the brake as he caught sight of the familiar figure standing in front of his car.

"Y/N?"

It's you. The sole daughter of the Rogers family, the heiress to Starlight Enterprises, a conglomerate spanning oil and gas, telecom, retail, and financial services.

You had fled, prompting the company to dispatch security teams in search of you.

And here you were.

Bucky stepped out of the car. "What are you doing? Don't you realize everyone's been searching for you?"

You scoffed, your tone laced with defiance. "So what? At least everyone will learn that I'm serious. I refuse to marry that guy."

Bucky understood the depth of your frustration. Your family was orchestrating an engagement between you and their business partner. But you vehemently opposed it. He comprehended why; the man they wanted you to marry was notorious—a playboy and a drug addict.

Unable to sway your resolve, Bucky carefully chose his words. "You should go home."

He reached out, gently clasping your hand, his touch pleading, wanting to guide you to safety.

But you recoiled, pushing his hand away. "I don't want to."

Bucky's heart sank, his expression pained. "Your family is worried about you."

Your retort was sharp, cutting. "Are they really? Or are they just afraid of losing their golden ticket?"

A tense silence enveloped them as Bucky grappled with the weight of your words. As the secretary to your brother, Steve, the Vice President, he was privy to the inner workings of wealthy families, aware that most marriages were arranged for business purposes.

Like Steve and Peggy, who defied the odds and found happiness together despite the pressures of their world, you refused to succumb to a loveless marriage.

With teary eyes, you gazed at Bucky, desperation etched in every tear. "I'll tell my parents I'll marry you instead."

Bucky sighed, feeling the weight of your request once more. You had asked him this before, seeking refuge from the loveless future awaiting you. Each time, he had declined.

"Not everything will always go your way," he murmured, his words heavy with resignation. "You've been living in a bubble as Princess Rogers." He paused, unable to bring himself to utter the name of your family's empire. "Now you're facing reality."

You fought back the tears, stung by his harshness. It was the first time Bucky had spoken so coldly to you. "Do you think my feelings for you are fake?"

"My whole life has been arranged from A to Z without my opinion," you continued, your voice trembling with suppressed emotion.

"The only thing I have is my dream of us living happily ever after. Can I at least have that?" Your breaths came in ragged gasps as you struggled to contain your emotions.

"Stop dreaming. Go home," Bucky commanded, his voice firm as he pointed behind you.

'Screech.'

With a screech of tires, a white Mercedes arrived to collect you. It dawned on you that Bucky had already informed the security team of your whereabouts.

As you watched Bucky walk away, a surge of determination washed over you. Clenching your fists, you whispered, "I'll show you."

########

A few days later

The entire Rogers family had gathered for tonight's dinner, including your grandparents, Thomas Rogers, the esteemed founder of the company. Bucky joined the dinner as well, having become one of the company's key figures, seated right beside you.

Despite the gravity of your previous conversation, you seemed to have put it aside, acting as if nothing had happened when you saw Bucky.

The dinner unfolded in its usual extravagant manner, with everyone engaging in polite small talk until dessert was served.

Your grandmother, Anna, broke the silence. "It's wonderful that we could all come together like this. We must discuss our youngest's engagement."

Your mother, Sophia, nodded, her smile gentle. "I met with them four days ago, and we've already ironed out all the details, from the church to the wedding."

Bucky's mind raced. Four days ago? That's precisely when you had gone missing.

Anna's excitement bubbled over. "This wedding will be magnificent. I can hardly contain myself."

But only the two women seemed enthused; your grandfather, Thomas, and your father, Benjamin, remained stoic, while your brother Steve stayed silent.

Then, a sudden sound cut through the air—a sharp "clank" as a fork stabbed into a plate.

All eyes turned to you.

"I don't like it," you stated flatly, your voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

Sophia's hand hesitated mid-air, poised to call the waitress, but froze when she heard her daughter's words.

"I don't like anything," you continued, your voice ringing with defiance. "I don't like that person, the wedding, anything."

"Y/N, stop," Sophia interjected, her tone tinged with frustration. "We've discussed this."

"Discuss?" you retorted bitterly. "Do you mean when you ignore my words?"

Anna's patience wore thin. "Y/N, enough with the tantrum. This concerns the entire family."

You crossed your arms defiantly. "I refuse to marry him."

Anna rose from her seat, ready to reprimand you, but a sharp glance from Thomas halted her in her tracks. Without a word, she sank back down, chastened by her husband silent command.

Thomas fixed you with a steady gaze, the same gaze that had once spoiled you as his beloved granddaughter. "Explain to me the reason why."

"I don't love him," you declared, your voice trembling with emotion. "I love someone else."

A sudden palpitation coursed through Bucky's chest. He sensed the situation spiraling out of control.

"Whose the person you love?" Thomas inquired, his voice firm.

You didn't hesitate. "Bucky."

'Ba-dump'

The room fell into stunned silence, broken only by the rapid thudding of Bucky's heart echoing in his ears, his mind racing as he grappled with the revelation unfolding before him.

Bucky rose hastily, his intention to apologize to the Chairman halted as your hand clasped his, the determination in your eyes stopping him in his tracks. It was the first time he had seen you like this, and it sent a shiver down his spine.

As all eyes turned towards you, you swallowed hard before speaking up. "And I'm pregnant. Bucky is the father."

The room erupted in chaos as Sophia and Anna screamed in unison.

"What?" they exclaimed in disbelief.

"Bucky! How dare you touch my daughter!" Sophia lunged forward, her hand reaching for Bucky's hair, but Benjamin intervened, restraining her.

Bucky opened his mouth to protest and deny the accusation, but the words stuck in his throat. He was taken by surprise, too.

"Silence," Thomas, the Chairman's authoritative voice, cut through the commotion, bringing an abrupt end to the chaos.

He rose from his seat, followed by Benjamin and Steve, their expressions a mix of shock and concern.

Fixing Bucky with a steely gaze, Thomas uttered just two words. "A word."

Bucky swallowed hard, his heart pounding as he replied, "Yes, Sir," bracing himself for the inevitable confrontation.

########

In Benjamin's office, Bucky stood before the three men, the weight of their scrutiny heavy upon him as they remained silent. Finally, Thomas broke the tension with a direct question. "Is everything true?"

Bucky knelt before his boss and friend, his voice steady but his heart pounding. "No, sir. None of it is true. I've never laid a hand on her."

Thomas's expression softened, a flicker of relief crossing his features. "Good."

Bucky let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, grateful for Thomas's understanding.

But then Benjamin spoke up, his tone contemplative. "Then why don't you like my daughter?"

Bucky's brow furrowed in confusion as he lifted his head to meet Benjamin's gaze.

"She's better off with you than with that spoiled man," Steve interjected, his voice firm.

Benjamin nodded in agreement, his eyes holding a hint of understanding.

Bucky was taken aback. "What?"

Thomas leaned forward, his voice grave. "The wedding arrangement was orchestrated by my wife and Y/N's mother. I'm relieved my granddaughter took a stand today."

Steve clapped Bucky on the shoulder, a mixture of relief and gratitude in his eyes. "I nearly lost my cool when she said she was pregnant. I almost punched you. Thank goodness it was a lie."

Bucky struggled to find words, overwhelmed by the unexpected turn of events.

Steve's tone softened. "Stay with her. I won't allow my sister to marry that man."

As the men continued their discussion, Bucky's mind raced, unable to fully comprehend the depth of their support.

Excusing himself, Bucky closed the door behind him, only to find you waiting for him outside.

Your worried expression melted his defenses as you approached him.

"What did they say?" you asked, searching his eyes for answers.

Bucky hesitated, then shook his head. "Nothing."

You breathed a sigh of relief and pulled him into a tight hug, his body stiffening like a log. Lifting your head to meet his gaze, determination flashed in your eyes.

"I'll make you love me," you vowed softly. "Even just a little."

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Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

[werecreature-addicted]

May I submit this thought for consideration:

Werewolf lover digging out a "den" in the yard because this upcoming rut is about to hit him like a freight train and he can't deny his instincts. The kids are helping him dig, enthusiastic to finally break a rule under dad's careful watch. (He already brought a kill into the living room, so he's in the proverbial doghouse...)

When they go to their human grandparents' for the week to give y'all some room, they might be getting a whole new sibling later. Dad will try his best for another, even though he has to make it all up to you through his hormone-driven haze.

you could kill your husband. He always got a little bit weird around this time of year- always breathing down your neck and rearranging the furniture. He'd spend an extra long time out on his runs and worst of all bring home his "kills". It's the 21st century. you'd grown up your whole life with restaurants and grocery stores Now all of a sudden you're supposed to know how to skin and clean a whole deer?

your eye twitches as you stare at the fresh body on your living room floor. he must have had to take the back door off its hinges to get it this deep in the house. now what? you can't keep calling animal control. and if you dump it in the woods behind your house it'll only attract wild animals. Just what you need, more things for your Mate to hunt.

"Ten minutes," you say, glaring at him. "You have ten minutes to get this thing out of my house," He does. you don't ask what he does with the thing, as long as it's gone. leaving you with a deep bloodstain to scrub out of your floors and carpets. You mutter darkly to yourself as you clean and your husband takes this as a sign that he should not be in the house right now.

He never wants to upset you- and it's not like he regrets being with a human, he loves you more than life itself but it stings a little how these romantic gestures just make you mad. Still, he can't deny his instincts. He needs to feed you, and keep you strong so you can carry his brood again. He hopes he can knock you up with twins this time.

The children are more than happy to help him work on the den, They are wild wolf pups after all, and they need to do stuff like dig and collect branches. The den is nice. private and sheltered. deep in nature but still comfortable enough for a human to sleep in. The kids help him decorate the den with wildflowers before they pack up to spend a week with Grandma and Grandpa.

"You better have one hell of an apology," you grumble, although you've mostly forgiven him. He takes you into his arms and tugs your shirt collar to the side kissing and licking your neck.

"I'll make it up to you all night long if you let me," he murmurs. and he means it too. If you want you can ride his face for as long as it takes for you to forgive him. "I'll even give you a gift tonight if that will make you feel better," he offers.

"A gift?" you ask.

"Yes, but you'll have to wait nine months for the "gift" to get here,"

[midnightsnyx]

girl at home | mat barzal | part 1

pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader summary: you're eighteen when you find yourself pregnant after Mat leaves for hockey. nearly eight years later, Mat finds out about your daughter and you have to deal with the consequences of not telling him about her.

warnings: mentions of pregnancy & not really edited word count: 1.3k authors note p1: don't mind me starting a new series when i have four other wips on the go :):) i love kid fics and this idea was stuck in my head so i wrote & decided to give it a go and post it. if this does well and you guys are interested, i'll do more. authors note p2: so notes about the series: i gave the readers daughter a name because i hate writing y/d/n lol of course you can change it in your head to something else if you want :) also the last name johnson is just there so i could have a full name but we all know she'll be a barzal also thank u @multifandombabes for giving me the push to post this!! happy reading & let me know what you guys think!

masterpost

In hindsight, you should have realized that it was bound to happen sooner rather than later. You did your best to avoid places you knew he would be when he was home, going to visit your grandparents or other family. Anywhere that would give you the opportunity to not be seen by him, because then you’d have to explain your brown haired, green eyed, seven year old. 

You weren’t proud of your choice to keep Nora a secret from Mat but you did what you thought was right when you were eighteen, sitting on the floor of your best friend’s bathroom four weeks after you had said goodbye to Mat and staring at three positive pregnancy tests. He had just left for hockey and you didn’t want to be what held him back and as time went on, it got harder to pick up the phone so a few months after Nora was born, you erased Mathew Barzal from your life. You deleted the photos, phone numbers, social media, with the only reminder being the little girl.

And it worked fine. Until now.

Nora usually didn’t come grocery shopping with you because you always ended up taking three times as long as you normally would. Except, your sitter fell through and your mom couldn’t watch her so you had to bring her along. Which is totally fine until you run into Mat. Who has a girl with him. 

So yeah, everything was fine until now.

It’s kind of comical the way his panicked eyes dart between the three of the girls standing around him. A quick glance at Nora confirms that she’s two seconds away from saying something to Mat which will not go well since the kid has zero filter.

“Hey, you’re that hockey player mama and grandma watch on TV!” she exclaims and you want to melt straight through the floor when Mat looks at you with one eyebrow raised. 

“Yeah?” he asks, kneeling down so he’s at her level.

“Yeah,” she confirms, and then loudly whispers: “I’m not supposed to watch ‘cause some games are past my bedtime but sometimes I’ll sneak out.” 

He offers his hand and smiles. “Well, it’s nice to meet you…” he trails off, clearly hoping she’ll offer her name. You hope she just says her first name instead of announcing her full name which she tends to do lately.

“Nora,” she tells him, shaking his hand and then to your unsurprised horror, she proudly tells him her full name. “Nora Nadia Johnson.” 

He keeps the smile on his face but stiffens and gently drops her hand. 

“Cool name,” he says, still smiling but you can see the tension in his shoulders. 

“Thanks! My first name means light and my middle name-”

She doesn’t get a chance to finish her sentence because you grab her hand, abandon your shopping cart and high tail it out of the store. She grumbles while trying to keep up with your pace and eventually you just pick her up and carry her to the car.

“What did we say about talking to strangers?” you ask while buckling her seatbelt, ignoring her annoyed sighs. 

“He wasn’t a stranger, you watch him on the TV all the time.”

“Have you ever met him?” you ask, raising an eyebrow and she mumbles something under her breath.

“What was that?”

“No,” she mumbles, crossing her arms over her chest and giving you a look that is so Mathew that you could laugh.

“Well then, he’s a stranger.” 

You leave it at that because she starts talking about the summer camp she’s starting next week. You’re only half listening, trying to get over the shock of seeing Mat and knowing he realizes that he probably has a kid you never told him about. If you were in his shoes, you would be angry so you are expecting him to show up on your doorstep later that evening but he doesn’t. Part of you wonders if the reason he doesn’t come is because of that girl he had with him but you figure if he really wanted answers, he would come regardless. 

What you’re not expecting, is a text from his sister Liana. You still see his family from time to time out in public but after you essentially ghosted Mat, they didn’t really want anything to do with you. When everybody found out you were pregnant, you lied and said it wasn’t Mat’s which nobody really believed but they couldn’t prove it and you’d used your mothers maiden name as Nora’s last name so there were no ties. You were surprised that his family didn’t tell him anyways, but you thought that perhaps they didn’t for the same reason you didn’t.

To give Mat no reason to stay here and instead, pursue his dreams and go play in the NHL. 

So a text from his sister is unexpected. 

Liana: hey, are you free for lunch tmw?

You almost delete it at first and pretend she never messaged you, but you know that there’s no going back now that Mat saw Nora. He’s not stupid. He probably went home and asked his parents about her. So you text her back a reluctant yes and agree on a spot to meet up the next day.

Nora goes to your moms house because you’re unsure if it will just be Liana who shows up, or if anyone else does. You meet up at a Starbucks and aside from the initial tension, it melts almost immediately and the two of you go back to the big sister/little sister relationship you had when you and Mat were dating. Except now, she’s all grown up.

After some catching up, the conversation turns to the reason she asked to see you. She hesitates, picking at her nails - a nervous tick you know she does - before sighing. 

“Look, everybody kind of turned their head with ‘The Nora Situation’ because it was clearly what you wanted, and it was probably what was best for Mat,” she says. “But he knows now, and he’s got questions that we can’t and won’t answer. Dad had to talk him down last night and his girlfriend went back to New York this morning.”

You wince at that, not liking that the reason his girlfriend left is because of Nora but Liana must notice because she shrugs, taking a sip of her drink.

“Honestly, she wasn’t very nice. I’m not broken up over it and Mat didn’t seem to be either.” 

Okay, that is interesting. 

“Anyway,” she continues, “this is Mat’s new number.” She slides a small piece of paper across the table and you gingerly take it. “I know you didn’t want to tell him, and I understand but he knows. So give him a chance, okay?”

You manage a nod and let her leave with the final word. All you want to do is take Nora and leave, to get as far away as you can but something inside you stops you from doing it because maybe Liana is right, and you should give Mat a choice. After all, you were the one who decided to take it away from him in the beginning. 

So later that night, after Nora is asleep, you curl up on your couch with the piece of paper and stare at it for a good fifteen minutes. Regardless of whether or not you text him, you will have to deal with this and you’d rather it be on your terms. You reluctantly type his new number in your phone and hesitate, trying to think of what to even say. This isn’t a conversation you were expecting to have with him. You type and delete a dozen messages before deciding on something simple.

To Mathew: Hey, I guess we should talk.

You take a deep breath, and hit send.

[luvhughes43]

soft launch | quinns gf au

[quinns gf au 📖]

note: sydney & alicia are rosemarys friends the fics just haven't come out yet

_quinnhughes

liked by rosemary, bboeser, bradytkachuk, and 38 912 others

_quinnhughes 24

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jackhughes HBD old man

_quinnhughes old ? boy...

lhughes_06 happy birthday

rosemary happy birthday!

user35 is that a girl ?

user41 he has friends literally be serious who cares

user50 the aesthetic and cohesion of this post.... ohh he 100% has a gf

user26 don't say this!! i'll cry if it happens😭😭

rosemary

liked by _quinnhughes, sydney, jackhughes, and 1 009 others

rosemary lovers lane <3

view all comments

_quinnhughes you're gorgeous ❤️

sydney cutie girl

alicia lovee youu

user00 the prettiest! miss u ro

rosemary

liked by _quinnhughes, alicia, lhughes_06, and 718 others

rosemary you could say that renovations are going well

view all comments

_quinnhughes my foot is still bruised from the shelf you dropped

rosemary i am soo sorry about that but look how cute it turned out!

rosemary i bought bath bombs and cooked spaghetti as an apology

_quinnhughes im omw

sydney omfg it looks so good! i'm gonna come shopping tomorrow!

user00 Love the new renovations! Your grandparents would be so proud Rosemary!

rosemary added to their story !

months later...

rosemary posted

liked by _quinnhughes, sydney, trevorzegras, and 2,148 others

rosemary sweetheart summers💐📝

view all comments

_quinnhughes 💐💐

sydney obsessed with you

alicia cuties !!

trevorzegras 🤐🛸

user57 QUINN?? THE NOTE?? OMFG??

user68 girl what's it like being quinns gf?

user41 this HAS to be his gf omfg likee his comment??

user02 she's so pretty ugh he won

_quinnhughes

liked by rosemary, lhughes_06, _eliaspettersson, and 43 819 others

_quinnhughes best summer yet 💐

view all comments

rosemary my favourite ily 💘

_quinnhughes i love you❤️

jackhughes sap

lhughes_06 congrats man!

user71 never thought i'd see the day where quinn would post pics of his gf...

user42 im. hyperventilating.

user86 oh..

user53 SHOULDVE BEEN ME...

user90 you guys are so cute!! congrats

user23 HE .. LOVES.. HER..

user19 youre like 15 relax. he was never gonna date u!😭

user21 ohh rough day for the hughes girls (me) 😭😭

rosemary

liked by _quinnhughes, sydney, lhughes_06, and 5,891 others

rosemary my last few days in michigan have me in my feels

view all comments

_quinnhughes already counting down the days till i'm back in van with you

rosemary youre not the only one! my grandpa keeps asking when you can come visit😭🫶

_quinnhughes booking my flight back right now

jackhughes come back any time!

rosemary i don't think i want to leave😭

trevorzegras what are the plans for ur last night?

_quinnhughes you're not invited!

trevorzegras oh 🧍‍♂️

jacksgf pls don't leave me alone with the boys😭🙏

rosemary i'm sorry🫠💘

sydney on the bright side i can't wait for u to come home! imy!

rosemary i miss you too! night in when i get back ?

alicia ohh i'll bring the wine!

user09 THE cutest couple

user61 the last pic🫠 you guys are so damn cute

i'm so sorry this took me so long to post... i hope you guys like it!🫂

-

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[madschiavelique]

˖𓍯. 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐬. ★. ₊ ⭑

⟢﹒ pairing : matt murdock x audhd!reader x frank castle

⟢﹒ summary : your family is an ordeal to endure, full of disparaging remarks that make for a horrible evening. fortunately, Matt and Frank come to keep you company during the family diner and take you home to look after you.

⟢﹒ content warnings : hurt/comfort, extremely self-indulgent, reader's family are degrading, audhd reader close to breaking down, reader having sensory issues, reader getting overstimulated, the guys in this are so lovable and sweet boyfriends, afab!reader, no use of Y/N

⟢﹒ word count : 9,3k

⟢﹒ note : had quite a shitty christmas ngl, so i thought writing this piece of comfort would be helpful ! if you only want to read the comfort part, i'll place a separation by using a black divider between the hurt and comfort part. a huge thank you to my bestie @sunflowersandsapphires who proofread this <3. have a good read lovelies!

You passed a q-tip close to your eyes in the hope of correcting the curve of your make-up, trying with that scatterbrained perfectionism that accompanied you in even the most minute tasks to ensure that everything was symmetrical.

Nothing too extravagant, just something elegant, neutral, but that would do. The standard was just to look presentable, from the face to the rest of the body. Jeans, an oversized hoodie, nothing special.

This lack of personal distinction was undoubtedly due to the rejection of perception, the insistent stares, the embarrassing compliments that could suddenly put you in the spotlight tonight, an idea that made you feel profoundly uneasy.

You stepped back a little, checking to see if the much-desired symmetry had been achieved, and no sooner had you put down your utensil than you were asked to do the little cousins' make-up.

Tonight was an annual family reunion: Christmas, where aunts, uncles, grandparents and grandchildren got together over foie gras, salmon and dubious discussions. Where guests who have just left are criticised, where disparaging remarks are exchanged, and where the meal always ends up drifting into politics with more or less heated debates at the table.

You anticipated the evening, an anxious knot already forming in your stomach. You had a particular link with your family, of which the affection was strangely displayed if at all in a way you despised entirely. Every year was a different pain, a different bitter taste that lingered in your thoughts like poison, and you were not delighted to participate in this celebration when you would’ve preferred staying home.

Only one thing held you in place and convinced you that the night wouldn't be a constant and unrelenting hell: Matt and Frank were coming over.

This winter, it was the first time you would’ve been accompanied by them, and by anyone in fact. Knowing the rather strong opinions of your family, the simple idea of saying that you shared your life with two men in a more than platonic way had been dismissed a long time ago. A trouple? If that fell in the ears of one of your family members, you could be sure that you'd become the next freak of the night.

So you talked it over with the boys and came up with a plan to make sure you could bring them both along and not make a big deal of it: one of them would pretend to be your boyfriend, while the other would just be your friend that had nothing better to do for the celebration.

The choice of boyfriend fell on Frank, and friend on Matt.

He had asked why, and you had explained that it was obviously in no way because of favouritism or anything of the sort, but rather the simple fact that he would get more compliments behind his back if he wasn't with you than if he was. 

He'd frowned, but you'd had to explain to them how your family was sometimes built on clusters of shrill gossip, talking behind others' backs and later making remarks to their faces in tones of passive aggressiveness and wicked irony.

You also had to educate them, that no matter what was said about you tonight, not to react. They'd probably be itching to, it would be like a thread sticking out, but they were forbidden to pull on it.

You looked at the clock, seven past. You'd texted Frank to ask where they were and when they'd arrive. Eight thirty had been their reply, and you took a deep breath. An hour and a half to go.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, assuring yourself everything was alright and that you were presentable enough. You can do it, you kept telling yourself, this night knows an end.

The first complications arose sooner than you thought. 

First of all, you'd managed to find a decent seat in an armchair and not on a sofa. However, this seat was very close to the fireplace, where a blazing fire licked the brown logs with appetite. Very close, too close, close enough that it felt suffocating. 

You moved your chair back slightly as best you could, trying not to disturb the conversation that was already well underway.

You tried to take a few snacks, perhaps some cashews, crackers or cherry tomatoes might ease your boredom and distract you from the growing heat.

You pulled out your phone, hoping that Frank and Matt would get here sooner, and would've sent a message to that effect. Or perhaps was there a notification from any of your friends, a reel, a meme, anything-

"Put your phone away, we're with the family."

You looked up, your mother watching you and taking her glass in hand with a look of dissatisfaction. In a single instant, your cheeks heat up all the more as the fire in the fireplace presses against your skin, and you gulped.

"I just wanted to check if I had any news about Matt and Frank's drive," you explained simply, gently stuffing the phone into your pocket.

"They'll arrive when they arrive, but for now, be with us."

You nodded, discreetly biting your cheek as one of your only escapes for tonight went up in smoke. You would have much preferred to be able to escape a little and block out what was going on around you, even sorting out your gallery and deleting useless pictures would have been a more pleasant and less stressful activity.

But you couldn't, and you said nothing when it was your mother's turn to pick up her own phone and connect to the speaker to play her Christmas playlist. 

The children played together, which should’ve been a joy, but their overexcited screams, incessant movements and all that noise were enough to make you feel the headache setting in.

There were easily three different conversations going on around you, and your mother turned up the music in response. You waved, putting your hand in front of you as if you were lazily dribbling an invisible ball to indicate her to lower the volume, and she turned the music down a notch.

You clenched your jaw, thinking to yourself that this was a good start, even if everything else was getting harder to hold on to.

Choosing to wear a hoodie became almost a regret as the ambient heat from the fireplace worked its way up your spine to the nape of your neck, creating an unpleasant feeling. Soon enough, you had to take it all off as the first signs of nausea began to make themselves felt.

You weren't particularly comfortable with the idea, but everyone's attention was obviously diverted enough to take no notice of your actions. Except perhaps for one.

"You could have made an effort on your outfit, it's not very festive." Your mother sighed before taking a sip from her glass of champagne. "Hadn't you lost weight? It would be a shame to spoil the occasion."

You swallowed, the ground looking awfully interesting at this very moment. You knew what would have been said to you if you'd worn something more in the spirit of it, "You've got a nice body, you should wear that more often," and other remarks falling into the famous "you should insert-disobliging-action more often" category.

You should wear that more often. You should smile more often. You should come more often. But none of these requests were of the taste to be fulfilled by you tonight.

So you simply shrugged, having nothing in particular to say, and feeling your heart clench. You were stuck in this contradictory place where if you made one move slightly changing from your usual self to them, you were reprimanded on it, but if you didn’t do anything in particular, they highlighted the fact that it was disappointing you hadn’t done anything.

"Well, we're delighted to have you with us tonight!" chuckled an uncle, raising his glass to you.

"It sure makes a change from knowing she's in her cave," chuckles an aunt.

You smile, but there's no warmth behind the gesture. By cave, they mean your bedroom. Your habit of isolating yourself had brought you a certain reputation within your family, and for years now it has been a recurring joke. They laughed about it every time, but you saw it more as a broken record replaying the same snippet of music... speaking of which, your mother turned up the sound again, thinking you wouldn't notice.

"Could you turn it down please? It's really loud." you ask politely, in the most calm, composed and polite tone you could produce at the moment.

"Oh come on," your mother grumbles, rolling her eyes, "we're allowed to have fun."

She turned up the volume once more, and finally someone other than you told her it was too loud. Reluctantly, she lowered the sound slightly, but it was still not enough for you. Your hands lodge over your ears, hoping with all your heart that this would ease the strain on your eardrums.

Conversations sought to drown out the music, each member pushing their voice for any discussion. Kids were still running around, chasing one another by screaming at each other, and adjusting your eyes on anything without the certainty of getting a headache felt like mission impossible. 

Your hands on your ears helped slightly, and it was only then that your mother looked at you with a surprised expression.

"Does it really hurt?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Yes," you nodded, "it really does."

Finally, she turned it down, and you exhaled as the others resumed a more appropriate though still higher volume of discussion than you'd prefer. The kids had been changed of room, making it more bearable for you to live through. 

"So, what have you been up to lately?" asks one of your grandparents, "how's work?"

Your cheeks heat up, the discussion now turned towards you, prompting you to take your glass in hand just to have something to quench your throat suddenly arid as the sahara.

"Very well, business is good." you smiled falsely, forcing your face to display the features they might normally expect to see.

"Great, and those two guests coming tonight, do you know them from work?"

How could you say that the circumstances in which you had met these two men were in a situation that included Frank and Matt falling into your flat, bloodied, and asking you for help? 

Karen, who you’d known through college, had advised them of your address, and when the first opportunity came up, they had taken the chance to make the most exceptional introduction you'd ever had in your life : stumbling at your place with cuts all around

"In a way, yes," you replied, pressing your lips into a thin line.

"One of them's her boyfriend, and the other's a lawyer," your mother informed the others, who seemed delighted by your seemingly noble company.

It's a good thing the flames in the fireplace were dying down and that it wasn't so hot anymore, because both your cheeks felt like you were resting the back of your hand on hot embers. It was a never-ending embarrassment to have such behaviour around you, saying aloud everything regarding you without you consenting to any information to be given. Wherever ridiculous actions or the slightest subject that was even a little new and out of their boredom-inducing daily lives occurred, they swarmed.

Nevertheless, the conversation drifted away to your delight, and at the mention of your loves, you couldn't stop thinking about them. You would have liked to check the time, to see if they had any problems on the way that might have delayed them, but you knew that such conduct was likely to earn you an additional remark about the use of your telephone. After all, she could find openings as easily as water in a colander.

Just then, a dance song began to play which, objectively, had nothing to do with the Christmas spirit. So everyone stood up, moving the chairs to get more room, and you helped in this cacophony of moved furniture. 

You stood to one side as everyone got to the centre of the room, their dance steps resembling a veritable collective epileptic seizure of which you had no desire to become another member.

You took the opportunity to take refuge in the bathroom, carefully closing the door behind you and sitting down on the toilet to take a deep breath. The after-effects of all these mixed sensations were beginning to make themselves known.

Your body was as taut as a bowstring, as if every muscle had contracted from a high fall, and it felt as if releasing all the tension would break you in thousands of small pieces. Your heart wasn't beating particularly fast, but it was beating hard, and you couldn't ignore it.

You took a deep breath, letting your head fall back as you closed your eyes. Your throat and chest were tight, so tight that you felt like crying right now. But you couldn't, it would be too noticeable once you got out of here, and you didn't want to give them the pleasure of having an extra subject to talk about at the end of the evening once you'd gone. It would do them too much honour, and you couldn't afford to give them any.

You were so tired, you couldn't take it any more, the fatigue coursing through your body like you'd run a marathon of shame. You breathed in again, feeling your previously tight chest slowly relax as your body was jolting a bit from the unease.

This wouldn't last forever. By the end of the evening, after dessert, you wouldn't be in this house surrounded by all these people, all these eyes, all these mouths, all this noise.

That's when your phone buzzed, and without missing a beat, you pulled it out of your pocket. On the screen was a single message from Frank that gave you tremendous reassurance:

We're here.

You bit your lip, nodding slowly. One last breath for courage and you stood up, opening the door of the bathroom. Without anyone noticing, you grabbed your hoodie and stepped outside into the cool of the night.

The sudden chill brought you unparalleled comfort, biting your cheeks hot with frustration and embarrassment. Perhaps the night would heal you, that its cool caress would apply its balm of softness to all that pressure and relieve you of your tension.

You turned your key ring to find the one for the gate a little further on, trying to walk and not sprint to it. Inserting the key almost frantically but controlling your excitement and relief at their presence, you opened the game.

And there they were, smiling at you.

"Evening sweetheart," Frank smiled when he saw you.

"Sorry we took so long," Matt apologised, pressing his lips together.

You looked behind you to make sure no one had followed you outside, closing the gate slightly so that you wouldn't be seen. You knew that even from here, your group of three could be seen as a pile of meat around which the vultures would circle, and you didn't want to risk being their next meal.

You hugged them both, relieved to have them close to you, and the suddenness and desperation in your gesture almost seemed to surprise them. They hugged you back, kissing your temple.

"Your cheeks are warm," Frank chuckled, pressing his face harder against yours, making you giggle.

"Is everything okay?" asked Matt, stroking your hair, "you're all tense."

Of course, Matt noticing every microscopic detail as usual, couldn't help but pick up on how stiff your body looked, and how the smell of stress covered your skin in the thinnest film. There was no point in lying to Matt, or pretending to divert the subject with Frank, so you sighed.

"Lots of noise, not much serenity," you replied, letting your head fall against the devil's chest.

You were trying to cherish all this a little more, because once you were back in the house, you and Matt wouldn't be able to touch each other again except perhaps to pass a plate across the table and let your fingers deliberately brush against each other.

They'd already been told by you what to expect, and even if they were prepared, they were sorry to find you like this.

"We won't stay here the whole night," Matt reassures as he wraps his arms around you, stroking your back. "Let's hope we get out of here before Frank goes so far as to take the silverware from the table and threaten anyone with the butter knife."

"You're ruining my fun, Red. Now I've got to find something more inventive," sighed the latter.

"Take the star at the top of the pine tree, it'll be sharp enough," you suggested, turning your head towards him, cheek still pressed against Matt's chest. 

"See that, that's Christmas spirit," smiled Frank.

You loosened your embrace, Matt gently kissing your lips. He savoured the moment, and so did you, because this kind of proximity with him wasn't going to happen again for several hours. 

"Ready?" asked Frank, letting his pointer finger form a hook to caress the skin of your cheek.

You looked at the lights further away from the house, hearing the music from here and already preparing in the second part of the night.

"Ready," you breathed in before reopening the gate and letting them through.

You felt your heart clench again, the unpleasant tingle of anxiety coursing through your veins in a fluid traffic that seemed impossible to dilute. You tried to breathe calmly, preparing yourself once again to face the suffocating interior of sounds, movements and remarks.

"Remember, if you need to take a break from all this and go outside, squeeze my hand three times, okay sweetheart ?" reminded Frank, placing his hand on the small of your back.

"Yeah," you swallowed, nodding softly as a tight little smile spread across your lips.

You'd agreed to pretend, in case things got desperate and you needed a break, that Frank was a smoker, and that you and Matt shared his ciggy break together.

All of this preparation had come from the fact your mother had passed an entire questioning about your boyfriend - or at least one of them - to prepare herself conventionally. You knew how she was, and such coaching with the guys was for the better.

Still, his hand on your back was reassuring, and made things easier to bear.

You opened the door, and everyone turned to you with a big "Ah" of satisfaction. Introductions were made as both took off their jackets. Frank remained friendly but guarded - as usual, typical Frank - and Matt seemed to bloom in this social environment like a freshly blossomed flower.

It didn't take long for most of your family to decide that they loved Matt. His well-timed humour, his natural charm, his eloquence, everything about him made him a man to be admired.

"Isn't there any way he could be your boyfriend instead?" said an aunt, approaching you as Matt and Frank continued to be introduced.

"He's way out of her league," sneered another, "they both are, actually."

You pressed your lips together, blowing falsely from your nose to feign amusement. You knew Matt could hear every little jab at you tonight, and if he was feeling any frustration, he was hiding it perfectly.

"Where did you get them? I want one too," said the first, making the other laugh.

"Might get the lawyer's phone number," she replied.

"Yours is very fine too," remarked the other, "how'd you manage to get him ?"

They both said these sentences as if their own husbands weren't in the room, and as if the possibility of you being in a relationship with one of them was a miracle, or just a huge stroke of luck.

"Through work," you replied mechanically and through clenched teeth before moving into the kitchen to help with the dishes.

You knew these sorts of remarks were to be brought up, on how you’d managed to surround yourself so well. Matt and Frank had long wondered how your confidence in yourself was so low, but maybe tonight would’ve been the perfect example as to why it was the case.

The transition to the table was almost seamless. Everyone sat down, the seating order meticulously adapted for everyone. Fortunately, you found yourself between Frank and Matt. You were inwardly grateful for the choice of decorations when you realised that the tablecloth was quite long, and that the reassuring hand Matt had just put on your thigh wouldn't be noticeable.

You breathed softly, the warmth of his hand anchoring you better in all of this and giving you something to focus on that was sweeter than any mean remarks.

Of course, with every new person around the table comes an interrogation to get to know them. Questions of all kinds followed for the boys, about their work, their activities, your aunts of course looking for answers as to how you and Frank had ended up together.

You'd worked it out and decided that Matt had introduced you to Frank and that, through your shared tastes in literature and other things, you'd ended up bonding.

"If books are the new way to getting to a man I've got some reading to do," joked one of the aunts, making the table laugh unanimously, "never thought you'd manage anything of the sort."

The pique directed at you made you feel as if you were swallowing a large ice cube with difficulty, but you covered your discomfort with an expert fake smile. Masking all that discomfort since the start of the evening was beginning to prove complicated, but you weren't going to use the smoking-break Joker just yet.

You could see in the corners of your eyes how Matt was wearing a stiff smile, and how Frank's jaw was tense. Gently reaching under the table, you took both their hands, turning to Frank with another smile that this time wasn't imbued with the polite mask you wore, but with sincerity.

"Let's just say I was lucky " to have found two such extraordinary people who fill my life with love on a daily basis, would you have finished.

You squeezed their hands, drawing small circles on their skins as they both smiled.

The starter was over, the main course continued as your stomach was refusing to let you eat anything, and the whole thing brought together discussions that made you uncomfortable to say the least. All sorts of unconscious or simply cruel racist, homophobic and even transphobic remarks were placed on the table. 

You remained silent, not speaking particularly. You had no desire to take part in this kind of discussion, given how horrible the venom on each other's tongues was. You just hoped it would all be over soon, looking forward to going home with Frank and Matt.

The cousins were chatting away like fascists, one talking about Napoleon, and the old days being the best, while talking about the questionable politicians he was listening to on the radio. 

The cheese arrived, and then came the little break just before dessert. They put on a film for the children, so that the adults could have a quiet chat without all the heckling.

Hearing the parents' arse jokes, you'd think they'd be fucking each other on the table if they thought it was funny. You could very well let your own sassy tongue out, say that if this aunt isn't listening to what's being said already it's because she's working out her next gossip, but you have to forgive her because she wouldn't be like this if her husband wasn't cheating on her, or maybe he's cheating on her because she's like this. 

To tell the uncles that they're less likely to die from terrorism than from alcoholism, to tell one aunt to strap the kids up tight because her husband is going to be driving as if he had an autonomous car. And that you would’ve liked to finish by saying that no matter the smiles, the village fete, all it took was a small difference for everyone to see the real faces.

But you said nothing, keeping to yourself those comments that would only serve to fuel their hatred. 

As Frank came up to grab another drink, your mother sat next to you on the sofa while the two boys came to be monopolised by aunts and uncles. A procession of rednecks near Frank discussing his familiarity with weapons and his military past, while the aunts were wiggling around Matt hoping to curry favour with the young lawyer.

"It's too hot in here," you murmured as you shifted a little from your mother, but she wasn't letting go and placed her head on your shoulder.

"But I want to be close to you," she said with a pout, the alcohol making her visibly affectionate.

You tensed, the desire to get away from it all running through your body, screaming under your skin. But there was nothing you could do, frozen there in the middle of it all, having to endure the situation as best you could.

The familial conversation drifted onto the subject of intellectuality, on the fact that your family was made up of nothing else, or at least for the most part. And you felt tiny, because they were generally right: they were all huge readers of the classics, who knew a lot about history, literature, philosophy and other human sciences. 

All these subjects were familiar to you, because you had had to learn them, to master them in the face of the global family demand for the cultivation of excellence.

Even though you were the ugly duckling of the family, that didn't stop you sharing this knowledge and they were all aware of it. You were able to inject the conversation with valid arguments and insights you'd learned on your own that were important to the topic, and whenever the occasion to say something wise came up that you grasped, they seemed more tolerable to you.

When the discussion turned to the descendants of a painter, you were asked to verify the accuracy of certain statements. So you looked it up on your phone, but barely half a minute later, your mother couldn't resist reprimanding you:

"What did I tell you on your phone? Not when we're with the family."

Irritation from all the previous events of the evening was beginning to press down on you, and it was with some irritation that you replied: 

"But I've been asked for some information."

Your voice was almost like that of a child defending themselves against someone calling them a liar, and this tone seemed to displease her when her gaze hardened.

"Don't talk to me like that, and put your phone away."

You bit the inside of your cheek so hard it felt like it was going to bleed, and said nothing as you put your phone back in your pocket while the conversation around you resumed.

You didn't meet Frank's gaze, nor did you turn to Matt, because you knew that this simple gesture would show weakness and a cry for help. However, you had made them swear not to interfere, and you remained silent for a while, trying to calm yourself down as you watched the fire ripple in the fireplace like an orange veil dancing in the wind while you fiddled with your fingers.

The tic was automatic; Matt and Frank would have preferred to have taken your hand in theirs to prevent this torment. 

What irritated you most of all was the profound injustice of the whole evening. You wouldn’t say anything, and you’d be considered too silent so people would ask you questions, but once you opened your mouth they were not satisfied with your answers. You couldn’t take your own phone, when all the aunts had their own, texting to their friends and all. Children had the right to get away in another room and watch a movie, while you had to stick there doing nothing but listening to whatever was said.

You couldn’t wait for the night to come to an end.

It was time to store the presents everywhere and pretend to the children that Santa had stopped by while they were watching the movie. Everything was placed in colourful piles, and when the children were called, they ran down the stairs and began the frantic tearing of gift wrap to an orchestra of shrieks and shredding.

All the accumulated sounds made you grit your teeth, tightening your throat and making you want to cry. You could feel the limit coming, and you needed a break to prevent you from imploding.

This time you took Frank's hand and squeezed it three times. He turned to you immediately, stroking your cheek before telling Matt. As quickly as they could without looking rushed, they put on their jackets and went out after you.

The night air calmed some part of you instantly, the contrast between all the hectic ambiance inside and the calmness of the outside felt like two extreme opposite worlds living by the only separation of a door.

To make sure that even from the outside there would be no doubt about this cover, Frank had to play along by taking out a cigarette and lighting it. He seemed irritated, and the idea of that Joker card almost seemed to play a real asset in all this to calm him down.

"How the fuck do they sleep at night?" he grumbles as he puffs out his first drag, "it's like they take every opportunity they get to pull you down."

"It's alright, let it slide." you sigh, crossing your arms over your chest.

"No it's not," he continues, "I can't believe you managed to handle their company for all these years."

"Didn't have much of a choice," you breathe.

"I know you said it was bad, I just didn't imagine it was constantly so," Matt confirmed.

"If I go back there I might actually punch them in the face," Frank grumbles before taking another drag on the cigarette.

"All that's left is the presents from the adults, then the Yule log, and then we'll be off, okay?" reassured Matt, placing his hand gently on your shoulder.

The touch of his hand brought a comforting warmth, and his words managed to reassure you. You looked at them both, thinking about how it would’ve been without them : unbearable, definitely. You had barely been able to handle it before they came, but now that they were here, you felt safe, like half of the poison that was thrown at you was not as effective.

They had changed you, made you feel loved, cherished, proud. They had been trying to break these patterns, the self depreciation, the self sabotage, the lack of self confidence. They were helping you build yourself back up from the ruins everyone else had left, and you were the most grateful to the universe to had brought them in your life.

"Thank you both, for being here," you admitted, your voice almost cracking, the coolness of the night giving you a feeling of security that was enough to relax your knotted throat.

They turned towards you, their faces softening. They knew what you were going through, what you were enduring for the night, and how complicated and unpleasant it must have been until they arrived. 

Frank took you in his arms, the smell of tobacco already permeating his clothes. Matt must not have been enjoying it at all, smelling that darkly sugary, smoky smell all around him, but whatever personal discomfort he was experiencing he didn't let it show. 

"It's the least we can do, beautiful," he replied, stroking your back.

"We just wish we could shut their mouths," Matt agreed, holding back from participating in the embrace as you’d instructed him.

"And stop this whole group of women from praising you?" sneered Frank, which made you smile.

Matt's nose scrunched up and his bottom lip curled in disgust at the remark.

"One of them wanted to feed me appetisers, and another asked me about being blind and whether I'd mind being in a relationship with someone whose looks I can't see." he said with a sigh.

"And then?" asked Frank curiously as you both turned to face the lawyer.

"I told her that I didn't need to see to know who was good-looking, and that if I chose my relationships purely on looks, I wouldn't know true friendship or love."

"All those poetic words must have pleased her," Frank punctuated with a whistle.

"Not until I told her my grandmother wore the same perfume as her."

You and Frank both laughed softly, truly impressed at how Matt was handling all this flirting and cringe from several women altogether. 

But this calm moment had to have an end, as the cigarette grew smaller and smaller by the minute. Frank broke away from your embrace to finish it and stubbed it out on the wall.

This little outing had done you a world of good. The cool night air had refreshed you, its delicate silence giving you a break from all the noise and the terrible comments from your family all the while Frank and Matt allowed you this break from constant barbs.

You returned again inside, the end of the opening of presents for the children welcoming you. And so the opening of those for the adults began, all the parcels being stored on the table in more chic and sober wrappings. The grandparents started, Frank standing behind you with one hand on your shoulder and the other holding his glass of champagne.

One by one, they all opened their presents, until it was your turn. Embarrassment gripped your body as all eyes were on you, and you dreaded the opening simply by being watched with boredom mixed with curiosity - to see how you might react and make the slightest faux pas.

You went about it slowly, wishing to unpack properly and not act like a barbarian tearing everything apart at once. Your aunt beside you imitated a yawn at the fact that you were making them wait, and everyone laughed, a tense little smile nailed to your cheeks.

What you got in the end wasn't too bad, nor too far from what you could appreciate, surprisingly. Of course, you had to force yourself to smile at most of the useless gifts that gave you absolutely no pleasure, but you thanked everyone, and the presentation of gifts moved on to the next ones.

"Didn't you get her anything?" your mother asked the boys.

"Her presents are at my place," Frank informed her.

The sentence made your heart spike up, a sudden warmth colouring your chest in pink softness as the sparkles of it brought the tingling sensation of tears at the corners of your eyes. Presents, they had gotten you presents. 

You were not going to cry, of course not, but the lump formed in your throat gave you enough of a hard time that you had to grab your drink and sip on it.

"Speaking of your place, have you looked at the traffic to get home?" questioned Matt, "I don't think I want to take too long."

"I'll have a look," he said, taking his hand off your shoulder to pick up his phone.

You wondered if Matt had had enough, if his own senses had been overwhelmed by all of this and he was pondering on going home. But then realised what they were doing : feigning traffic disruption in order to get home early and save yourself a lot of awful time.

"I think we're going to have to go," Frank nodded as he put his phone away. "Sweetheart? Ready?" he asked, bending over so that his chest pressed against your back.

"Yes," you said as you took a big breath and stood up, saying goodbye to the whole family.

You dreaded the hugs, the kisses on the cheeks or simply the fact of pressing them together and imitating the sound of what should have been a fake smooch, but with a surge of tiredness you objected to this using the excuse of " time is running out".

In no time at all, Matt and Frank had gathered up all your things and were carrying them, heading for the entrance hall to collect theirs.

In less time than it takes to say it, you were finally outside, walking up to the gate. You felt as if your lungs were being squeezed as you went along, almost expecting to feel a rope being pulled tight inside you to tie you to the house, for someone to come out and catch you or whatever. You felt almost like a gnat trying to escape from the spider's web in which it had been stuck a little too long.

You stuck the key in the lock of the gate, turned it hastily, then opened it to let them go with you, closing the big opaque metal door with that step. The pressure hadn't gone away from your body yet, every limb feeling like it was made of thick, rough foam where multiple needles had pierced you in the many crevices they'd already left and were digging even deeper. 

You looked for the car in the hope of getting to it as quickly as possible, but you let out a little squeal of surprise when your feet flew off the ground as Frank swept you up in his arms like a princess.

"Ain't no way you're gonna walk, you've had enough exhaustion for the night," he said, tightening his grip on your back and the back of your knees.

"But-" you began reflexively, although the idea of giving up this position didn't bring you any comfort.

"Ah ah," he stopped, "don't wanna hear about it." If he had his two hands free and was being childish, he would have put them over his ears, singing la la la and pretending not to hear anything.

But his hands were firmly under you, giving you all the security you could have dreamed of and the beginnings of a comfort that would last all evening until you'd sleep.

"Circus night is over," Matt huffed, taking a deep breath, "I think I've heard enough nonsense for one year."

"Lucky for you, next one's less than a week away," sneered Frank.

"I'd rather lose a second sense than inflict this on myself and our angel a second time," the demon replied as he grabbed the car keys from Frank's pocket and opened it.

He opened one of the rear doors, letting Frank gently place you in and strap you in place, placing a kiss on your forehead as he stepped aside to let Matt pass and place the few bags in the boot.

Matt sat down beside you, and you let your head fall on his shoulder. You felt the tingles of anxiety under your skin lodge in your legs and squeeze your chest, the rush to get out of here weighing heavily on your head.

Frank sat in the front seat, turning the car key and making it purr, then drove off. 

As the car rounded the corner, all the tension began to dissipate and you let the breath you'd been holding in escape from your chest. Your whole body felt heavy, your hands gloved with marble, your legs booted with lead and your head stuffed with cotton.

You felt the softness of Matt's lips as he placed a kiss on your forehead, his hand coming to rest on your thigh as you hummed under the sweetness of his comfort.

"It's all over now," he said, resting his chin on your head, "we're going to take care of you."

You snuggle up to him, your hand coming to rest on his as you breathe softly. Your fingers drew soft, formless patterns on the back of his hand, fighting the fatigue that had fallen on you like an anvil.

The moment was sweet, Matt's warmth through his clothes spreading close to you as you turned his hand onto his back to gently trace the lines from his palm up to his callused fingers. 

"I'd have to get rid of some of them," grunted Frank, who clearly hadn't yet calmed his frustration, "I'm sure they'd be much better off in an asylum."

"It's an insane asylum, not an asshole asylum," Matt remarked, "you'd have to build asshole asylums but... you can imagine the size of the buildings."

"Yeah, still, maybe I should have burnt my cigarette on one of their cars."

"What a nice Christmas present," chuckled Matt.

"I can be generous sometimes," confirmed Frank.

"Especially when you threaten people," you agreed.

"A pittance," Matt snickered, "Is that one of my sweaters by the way ?

"Yes," you sigh, "I'll have you know it's been criticised tonight."

"Really? By whom."

"I'll let you guess."

"A bit bold coming from someone dressed like Norman Bates who dresses like his mother," Frank grumbled.

You laughed softly, a sort of little venting session taking place in the car like a debriefing following a bizarre situation.

"With all those women around, Red's charm knows no bounds," laughed Frank, "you've caught the eye of one in particular it seems."

"My aunt? She's suffering from too much oestrogen. If you're interested, I can put you in touch," you grinned.

" I'd rather sleep on cotton sheets." grunts Matt as his hand grabs your thigh and squeezes a little tighter, letting a small chirp of amusement escape from between your lips.

The ride continued, and your stomach went all hollow, grumbling with displeasure at the emptiness you'd left it.

"Didn't eat much, did you ?" asked Matt softly.

"Barely touched her plate," confirmed Frank at the front.

"Didn't feel like it," you murmured.

"Is there anything you'd like when you get home?" proposed the demon, interlacing his fingers with yours.

"Something sweet," you hummed, adjusting your chin to rest it on his shoulder.

"Anything else?"

"Two pairs of arms around me," you smiled.

They both grinned, and the ride went by in a flash. You untied yourself once you'd arrived, stretching slightly as you shifted to open the door beside you, but Matt's hand from your thigh came to grab your hip and pull you back to him in a gesture that seemed immensely easy.

You turned to face him, confused for a moment, as he kissed your cheek.

"No walking, remember?" he smiled as Frank opened his car door to come towards yours.

You sigh, shaking your head slightly as you roll your eyes. They were overdoing it, but you weren't going to stop them. 

"Come here princess," Frank said as he pulled your hips towards him to take you in his arms again.

You wrapped your hands around the back of his nape, nestling your face in his neck and smelling his subtle cologne on his warm skin.

Matt took the bags and went ahead to open the door for you. The familiar smell of your real home seemed to wash all your worries from your body as you took a simple breath.

The bags were deposited in the hallway, Frank walking over to the sofa to set you down.

"Stay right there and don't move," he informed, hands on either side of you as he kissed you softly.

"What happens if I move ?" you asked, placing one of your hands on his arms.

"I'll tie you up like a pretty present," he chuckled as he kissed you again, "the most perfect present we'd ever have."

"Is that a threat or a promise?" you teased, your foreheads pressed together.

"It's a statement," he concluded.

He straightened up, and you were already missing his presence near you, but you respected his request - or rather his order - and remained seated on the sofa. Your head fell back, your body moulding itself to the shape of the couch under the effect of the evening's emotional turmoil. The tension drained away more and more, relaxing your tired muscles and making you yawn. 

It wasn't long before Matt and Frank returned with more casual outfits and packages in their hands. You straightened up, bending your knees on the sofa about to get up, but remembering the fact that walking wasn't a possibility, you explained: 

"I've got some for you too, am I allowed to go and get them?"

"For us?" said a surprised Frank, pointing at himself as if there was some mistake.

"You mean the packages under the first step of the stairs?" questioned Matt, "I thought those were packages you forgot about for the others."

"No, these are for you," you confirmed as you sat back down on your knees on the sofa.

They stood like that, one blinking repeatedly while the other kept his lips parted.

"You really didn't have to-" Matt began, but you stopped him immediately.

"Tsk tsk, if I don't have the right to stand up, you don't have the right to stop me from giving you presents."

"But-" resumed Frank.

"Ah ah," you smiled in the same tone he'd given you earlier, "don't wanna hear about it."

He parted his lips in a smile but said nothing as Matt laughed softly to the side. They approached you, Frank placing the packages on the coffee table as Matt turned away.

"I'll get them," he eventually says, heading for the top step, cracking it open and pulling out three packages to take back to the coffee table.

"The medium one is for you," you say, pushing the first one towards Frank, "and the big and small one are for you," the two boxes sliding across the smooth table towards Matt.

The packets seemed a particularly complex conundrum to them, but you urged them to open their presents.

Matt opened his and discovered a 7kg weighted blanket and an anti-stress ring that could be twirled on his finger.

"I know you sometimes ask me or Frank to lie on top of you because the weight makes you feel better, so I got you this, which should help if neither of us is ever there to give you what you want. As for the ring, I know that times at the Court can be stressful, so I thought it might help you find a point of anchorage." 

Matt seemed at a loss for words, taking the duvet between his fingers and touching the silk sheet you'd wrapped it in. Putting the ring on his index finger, which fit perfectly, he smiled to himself.

As for Frank, he removed the wrapping and his lips parted.

"I've been looking for these for months," he said, looking at the few books he'd been talking about over and over again. "How did you... ?"

You'd scoured countless bookshops, searched book repositories, researched the clearance of certain titles by libraries to find these books that had all but disappeared very quickly while the work was being republished and retranslated.

"A good girlfriend never reveals her secrets," you smiled.

The two of them placed their gifts on the table and came to embrace you, nestling their faces in the crooks of your neck. They held you close, gently kissing your skin between hushed "thank you's", dotting your neck and face with soft pecks.

"What did we do to deserve you," Frank murmured, pulling back slightly.

"I could ask the same about you both," you smiled, running your fingers through their hair.

They kissed you again, then handed you their own gift. You opened it, and it was something you'd talked about several times before, something that was very close to your heart and that they'd decided to give you. This time it was your turn to hug them, and they laughed as you showered their faces with kisses.

"What do you say to a nice bath, and then some dessert before bed?" offered Matt.

"I think that's the best idea of the evening," you confirmed, caressing his cheek and kissing his nose.

Without further ado, Frank took you in his arms like a koala, letting your legs cross behind him as you pressed your cheek against his shoulder. He led you and Matt into the bathroom, the devil bending over the tub to prepare the bath.

Frank lifted you slightly and sat you down on the wash basin counter, letting his hands fall on both your thighs and stroking them gently.

"As much as I love your makeup, we're gonna have to remove it sweetheart", he explained, kissing your cheek.

So mechanically, you grabbed your make-up remover, ready to start the process. But Frank stopped you in your tracks, gently taking the bottle in one hand and a cotton pad in the other.

He poured a small amount onto the white disc, dosing as you did regularly.

"Close your pretty eyes for me," he murmured, taking your chin between his fingers and starting to remove your make-up.

Frank had this charming habit, in the evenings when you were getting ready for bed and he wasn't out playing vigilante, of watching you remove your make-up. He knew a lot about your day by the way you went about it: slow and thoughtful was the result of a good day, faster and more jerky obviously reflected one full of frustration, and sometimes when your movements were slow and your eyes half-closed, it generally meant that the day had been very, very long.

He concentrated, pressing tenderly against your skin as he removed iridescent, matte and mascara from your eyelids, occasionally pausing to kiss your lips, making you smile and giggle softly with each peck.

You almost wanted to put lipstick on his lips and let him kiss your whole face until the red of your cheeks was indistinguishable from the colour of the lipstick.

He asked you to look up this time to clear away the mascara smears and the black marks left in their path. He was doing this with the utmost precision, and this personal attention sent tickles all the way to the back of your skull.

"Look at me?" he asked and you complied, a smirk forming on his lips. "The prettiest girl."

He came over and placed a strand of hair behind your ear before stepping aside to throw away the little cotton disc.

"I'm gonna go and check what snacks we have, Red? I'll leave you my favourite part, but only because it's christmas alright?" he informed before kissing the tip of your nose one last time and stepping out of the bathroom.

Matt, so far checking the temperature of the bath water to make sure it was correct, shook off his damp fingers and wiped them on a towel before standing up and moving between your legs.

"I'll have you stand up just for a bit," he cautioned, taking your hands and pulling you slightly towards him to get you to your feet. "Arms up."

At his request, you raised your arms. His hands pinched the bottom of your hoodie and pulled it up your body. He laid it to one side, continuing with your t-shirt, his fingers still warm from the water sliding delicately against your skin.

"So that's Frank's favourite part?" you smiled, "undressing me?

"I have to say it is," he stated as he unbuttoned your trousers and panties, sliding them to the floor where you lifted your feet to get out of them.

"And what's your favourite part?" you asked as he took off your socks and raised up to your level.

"The one that's about to happen."

He guided you to the bath and let you slide in gently. The temperature was perfect, just as you liked it, and you let out a moan of ease from between your lips until most of your body was submerged in the bath.

Matt took a stool from the bathroom and placed it beside you, taking a cup at the same time to pour water over your hair. He applied himself with great care, taking his time to make sure no drops got into your eyes.

Your muscles relaxed naturally with the heat, finally eradicating the tension in your body once and for all.

You felt Matt's fingers dip into the bath water, sliding up from the skin of your thigh and gently up your body, tracing your silhouette under the water.

"You're beautiful," he whispers as his wet fingers rose from the water to caress your cheek.

"How could you know?" you asked softly, watching as he stared into the emptiness.

"My hands don't lie to me, and I know the beauty of the mind at first sight of the heart" he smiled as he took your bottle of shampoo, pouring some into his palm before massaging your head.

To help him, you straightened up, pivoting slightly to get your back to him. His fingers snaked through your hair, massaging gently and lathering everything up slowly. He worked the back of your neck, muscles tense, letting your head go with the movement of his hands.

With your neck now leaning back, Matt smiled gently before kissing your forehead.

"That's my favourite part," he confirmed, resuming the massage.

You let your eyes close, surrendering to the gentleness of the moment and Matt's touch. He was pressing, caressing, painting with his fingers as if he were holding the most beautiful and delicate material in his hands. 

Too soon for your liking - because you would have preferred this moment to have no end - he rinsed your hair, letting the white mousse spread over your shoulders and applying it lightly to your skin. He took the sponge, soaking it in shower gel before squeezing it into a foam so that he could spread the bubbly cloud over your skin.

He took one of your arms, raising it so that he could get it straight and soap you up properly, and he kissed the length of your skin before the softness of his kisses was erased by the little soap bubbles that the sponge left in its wake. He did the same for your second arm, and your leg, and the second after that, covering your whole body with kisses and softness.

At first you thought it was unfair, because no sooner had he placed a kiss on your skin than he wiped it away with white foam. But you were soon comforted by the idea that these weren't kisses being chased away, but kisses being kept, kisses that seeped under your skin and brought you all the warmth that the bath was beginning to no longer contain.

Before the water got too cold, he gently rinsed you off and got you out of the tub, wrapping you in your bathrobe.

Frank came back into the bathroom at last, bringing clean, more comfortable clothes in his hands. They both took their time drying your hair and dressing you, whispering sweet nothings to you as they kissed your cheeks and temples.

Each kiss washed away the stress you'd been feeling, replacing bitterness with sweetness, and you relished every moment of it.

Once again they carried you in their arms to the sofa, where Frank had placed a plethora of foodstuffs of all kinds on the table, snacks and other sweet products that you might have wanted at the time.

You watched several episodes of a series that you'd been watching together lately, commenting on it and falsely - or actually - taking offence at the particularly stupid choices made by the main characters.

You didn't need any more than that. All the love in the world was with them.

They had taught you how one hand changes when you put it on top of another, that another world is possible but is present in this one, that there is always a dream asleep.

They were standing on your eyelids, and their hair was in yours, they were engulfed in your shadow. Their eyes were always open, they wouldn't let you sleep, their kisses in the light made the sun evaporate.

Back pressed against the chest of one, face hidden in the nape of the other's neck, tonight you fell asleep, fulfilled, safe and loved.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for calling out my friend's spending habits?

✈💸 to find later

I (NB 20s) have been struggling to find employment for a long time. I've been struggling a lot with money- I'm technically indebted to my bank due to an overdraft I dipped into during my last weeks of university while paying off surprise fees, and in the entire year since have been unsuccessful in paying it off for any meaningful length of time. The stress has been immense and I've been avoiding like the plague any kind of personal purchase or leisure activity that might cost me anything. It's a mindset that's been making me profoundly miserable and that I'll probably struggle to get out of for a long time.

However, in the past few weeks, I've managed to land what I can only describe as my dream job. It doesn't start for another couple months, and the pay won't be fantastic (it's an internship), but without a doubt it will change my life. Desperate to do something nice and give myself a break, members of my family agreed to lend me money via plane tickets to do a nice trip this summer and see my best friends abroad, my last big hurrah before entering the full-time workforce for the rest of my life (and being able to pay them back). And I've been really excited! I've been saving even harder than usual, scraping up cash and politely asking grandparents. It won't be easy to support myself in another country in my financial situation, I understand that, but I'm at a point where I think I can do it for a short time and not be a burden on the people who are hosting me.

However, the only issue comes with my friend (NB 20s). I've known them for years, we're extremely close, and we've been waiting for a chance to see each other again for most of that time not knowing if it would ever happen due to my financial situation, so this is the opportunity of a lifetime. They really want to host me, for at least 2 weeks, and do all these nice things together we've been planning. But in the past month or so they've all but drained hundreds of dollars from their bank account in art commissions and room decorations for themself, all of which they've been excitedly showing off to me and our other friends, all the while running out of money entirely. They can't pick up work from their (seasonal) job anymore, either, so there's no way for them to earn back the money now, and recently they've started having to push their commissions just to cover their student loan payment this month. In ordinary circumstances I wouldn't mind and would try and help them out, but I won't be in any financial position on the trip to cover their bills as well as my own (at least not regularly), and I feel like this would have been so preventable if they'd just... picked less wildly expensive things to buy as a treat, knowing the circumstances.

They've said they're also stressed and need to buy themselves nice things sometimes, which I totally agree with! I'm not that much of a party pooper, they are in a rough situation themself right now and the stuff they bought does make them genuinely happy. But it also sucks to watch them then have to struggle to pay for bills and necessities because of it, and I feel really selfish for thinking of it in the framework of our time together later as well. I've done my absolute best to be able to spend at least a few weeks having a great time with them not worrying and pinching pennies while taking care of myself, but now I'm worried we're just going to spend the trip with both of us stressed out of our minds and stuck at home struggling to pay for gas. I'm an anxious person, and the few times I've tried to bring up my worries in a more gentle way, they've vehemently reassured me everything will be fine, but now I'm leaving in just over a week and everything seems like it's getting worse instead of improving.

I know I should be just glad to spend time in their company, even if it is just at home, but I can't stop feeling like the way they've been spending money in the leadup to this has been really irresponsible and preventable. But even if so, it made them happy in the moment so i should be happy for them too, and surely it's just straight up none of my business? It's also not like they can take it back now- it's already happened, and they can't earn the money back if they wanted to. I feel like if i called them on it at this point it'd just be a dick move and come across pointless and jealous, but I also can't help but think it's unproductive to let this gnaw at me the entire time, like I should really be communicating this kind of upset and talk it out first in case it comes to a head and boils over and ruins our whole time together.

I'm aware I'll be long into the trip by the time this posts but it'd be nice to look back and see other perspectives.

[infoactionratio7]

(you) on my arm - s. adamu

summary: sydney is at a wall, she has no ideas when it comes to the new menu at the bear. she decides to go to a bookstore for some new inspiration, she finds it, but not in the way she was expecting.

pairing: sydney adamu x fem! bookseller! reader

word count: 2,514

note: annoying! carmy bc he literally is insane, kinda fluffy meet cute vibes, reader just moved to chicago, inspired by the song (you) on my arm by leith ross cause the song is rlly cute! also sydney gives me sapphic vibes, she definitely would have a crush on a girl!

monday morning -

Sydney was pissed, she had sent at least ten messages to Carmy in the last twenty minutes. Some about the new menu they were working on together, some about the fact that he had been a bitch the night before when he kicked everyone out because Claire just had to see the new restaurant. She ran her hands down her face in frustration as she sat at her dad's kitchen table, the sun streaming in through the blinds into the apartment. It warmed the floor as she got up from the table, debating what to do. She had no ideas left, everything was either not working out, or it just didn't fit the menu for the new revamped restaurant.

"Sydney, where are you headed off to today?" Her dad walked into the room with a steaming cup of coffee, freshly brewed from a new coffee blend she had found shopping the day before.

"Uh well Carm is not responding so I'm gonna head over to The Bear and meet up with him for a little then see where the day goes from there I guess." She walked out of the dining area and put her breakfast dishes away.

"Okay honey, have a good day. Hope he stops being an ass." She laughed, "Me too... me too."

Sydney grabbed her shoes out of the closet she had thrown them in last night, slipping them on and grabbing her bag. "I'll see you later dad." She grabbed her keys, and started making her way to the restaurant where she could deal with Carmy in person.

-

You looked around the bookstore, you had only been open for a month but it had been a hit within the community. You had almost any book anybody could want. There were teens coming from the school a few blocks away to get some cheesy romance novels to bring to the park and read with their friends, and there were grandparents coming in to get their grandchildren a new picture book about god knows what. You even had some people come in and request books you had never heard of before, you promptly ordered two copies of any book you didn't have. One for the customer, and one for you, to read and explore the pages.

It was a beautiful space, tall ceilings strung with fairy lights and lanterns, trying to bring some sense of whimsy to the dull days in Chicago. The books were arranged in every which way, requiring the customers to truly search for a book they wanted to read. You had tables full of recommendations, from people online and the employees of the bookshop. You really enjoyed curating all the titles you had in your collection. Tourists looking for a cute little magnet or souvenir adored the hole in the wall place, a safe space to just cuddle up and read a book.

You had a few customers that day, a mom and her son looking for his first chapter book to read. You had suggested he read The Magic Tree House, a series, about a brother and sister and their time traveling tree house. There was a tall guy with a buzzcut, who said he worked just down the street and was looking for a book about how to get rid of mold in the structure of a building. He seemed in dire need of some help, so you found the best book possible, The Toxic Mold Recovery Guide. You had no idea you had the book but it was meant to be. He thanked you immensely, leaving his name and number just in case you ever needed anything. His name was Richie, he seemed pretty nice.

Low music played as you restocked a shelf, you hated the idea of having Colleen Hoover books in the store but they were a big source of income. They absolutely flew off the shelves. The least touched section of the store were the cookbooks, it seemed like everyone in Chicago was moving too fast to just dedicate one hour of their day to making a meal from scratch. It was disappointing, because you had a large selection, from Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child to Momofuku by David Chang and Peter Meehan. You knew that someday it might come in handy and you would be lucky to have all the cookbooks.

-

Sydney walked into the restaurant in a sour mood, Carmy had still not responded to any of her texts and she knew he was here. She walked straight into the office, passing the locker room, sans lockers and covered in black powder. Richie furiously flipping through a book that said something about mold on the cover. He glanced up at her

"Shut the fuck up." She was taken aback

"I didn't even fucking say anything Richie," he scoffed at her

"Well I was preparing for you to say something dumb as hell, and you did so I stand by my first statement." He looked back down at the book and mumbled something unintelligible to himself. She rolled her eyes and made her way into the office.

"Carm are you here?" Turning the corner she saw the chef, surrounded by papers and various file folders. He had his phone in his hand and was about to dial a number, "You little bitch, you fucking had your phone this entire time." She couldn't believe what was right in front of her.

"What do you mean chef?" Carmy looked confused, "Of course I had my phone, I'm about to call the fridge guy."

Rolling her eyes she brought her hand up to her face, holding her forehead in her palm. "I texted you at least ten fucking times, you couldn't even bother yourself to respond!" Shaking her head she sank down into the office chair Carmy had abandoned an hour ago.

He looked around the room, trying to get her to understand how much work he had been doing, "Syd I've been trying to make sense of this paperwork for hours, I haven't had time to respond to your messa-"

Fak's head popped into the doorframe, "Carmy I got your text about helping Richie clean up the mold but he's being mean to me." Sydney turned from Fak to the red faced chef sitting on the floor. He had been caught in a lie, of course Fak came in at just the right time for this to happen.

"Okay fuck you chef, I'm leaving." Sydney shrugged, stood up and left the room. She heard heated words from Carmy as she walked out of the office and passed the locker room again, now he was pissed at Fak, as usual. She heard her name as she turned around,

"Sydney, wait a sec come here."

"What do you want Richie, I thought you wanted me to shut the fuck up." She crossed her arms tight and shot him a pointed look.

"You should go to that bookstore a few blocks down, I got this damn mold book earlier and saw a shit ton of cookbooks. You should check it out." She sent him a tight smile and turned her back to him. "Thanks Chef."

-

You had just finished restocking the shelves for the day when the little bell above the door rang. You went behind the desk and called out, "Welcome to The Book Worm, If you need anything let me know!"

You heard no response so you just busied yourself cleaning up the case that was behind the checkout, it housed all your special edition signed or first edition copies of books. It needed to be dusted pretty often because you wanted to keep the quality of the books at their highest, just in case anyone would ever want to purchase one.

You heard a thud come from behind you, and turning around you looked down at the counter. There was a stack of six cookbooks placed on the counter in front of you. Looking up you saw one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen since you had moved in to the city. Her hair was long and perfectly braided, her eyes a beautiful shade of umber catching the light in a hypnotic way. She had a grimace on her face, yet still looked stunning. You had no idea how to react, so instinctively you started to enter the books into the register as you made some small talk,

"So how has your day been," She sighed and looked up to meet your gaze, "If I'm being honest, shitty. My fucking partner wouldn't respond to my messages and when I went to talk to him he had is phone in his hand about to call someone. So yeah really fucking shitty." You looked back down at the book at disappointment, of course she had a partner and of course she was straight.

Awkwardly smiling you tried to think of a good response"Oh, um, wow. That's pretty shitty I'm sorry." She seemed to sense your disappointment, trying to save the conversation, "Shit uh, my business partner I mean, he's a little bitch sometimes. We're uh, opening a business- or I should say um," She rubbed the back of her neck, "We're kinda rebranding his brother's old restaurant, its a lot." You had finished entering all the books into the system, your chest had filled with warmth when she rushed to clarify that he was her business partner. You thought that maybe, just maybe it might be because she wanted to make sure you knew she was single, and not exactly straight.

"I guess that explains the cookbooks then," You looked at her, she had been staring at you in a flustered state of shock. "What, oh, uh, yeah! I'm kinda stuck making the menu so wanted to get some inspiration."

Sharing an understanding smile, you read her total out to her. She grabbed her wallet and pulled out some cash, as she handed it to you her fingers brushed along yours. It sent chills down your spine, no matter how cliche it might be, you knew that she was someone to keep close. Your face flushed red as you took the cash and put it into the register, printing her receipt and giving her any change she needed back.

You decided that since she got so many books you would give her a free tote bag, just so she could carry all the books out of the shop. You pulled one off of a hook behind you and started to put the books into a bag. You decided to quietly slip a business card with your cell number and a little note into a book so she could find it and contact you. A subtle way of screaming, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen I want to spend the rest of my life with you, without being too forward. As you finished packing the bag, the two of you both happened to say something at the same time.

"Do you wanna come see my restu-"

"Do you work at the restura-"

You flushed

"No you can go-"

"No you can go - sorry um. Do you want to come to the opening of the restaurant. It's uh, the one down the street, we're not opening for a while but, if you want to come to the friends and fam-"

You cut her off, wanting her to know you really wanted to go to her restaurant, "I would love to go... what was your name?"

"Sydney, It's uh Sydney" Her face got hot, nervous about the fascinating bookseller she just had the pleasure of meeting.

"Well Sydney, I would love to go. Just let me know the details," You softly smiled as you gave her the bag filled with books. She looked to you and grabbed a bookmark you had as a display that happened to have the shop's phone number on it. "I'll call you, um when we get closer to the open date, promise." You smiled, hoping that she would get in contact with you sooner than she expected to. She turned to leave.

"Thanks for coming in, really good to meet you Sydney." The door rang again and she sent you a wave through the glass, walking away quickly.

You were frozen, you had just given a random girl you just met your number, and had openly flirted with her for all the world to see. You crouched down onto the small stool you had behind the desk, tucked your head into your knees and screamed. You were feeling rushes of emotion and didn't think you would ever recover from that interaction. The bell rang again just as you finished screaming, you shot up and saw a group of teenagers heading to the new books you had just set out.

"Welcome to The Book Worm, If you need anything just holler!"

-

Sydney rushed back to The Bear, she was so utterly mortified, she had never seen someone so radiant and in their element. The chef couldn't contain her emotions as she stormed into the restaurant, Richie was the first person she saw, he started to say something,

"Not right now Richie I swear to God" The tall man was taken aback but threw his hands up in surrender, not wanting to get involved.

She might as well have ran into the office at the speed she was going, throwin the bag of cookbooks on the ground and closing the door, sliding down the back of the door she groaned,

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, fucking, fuck," dragging out the last word as she hit the floor.

Carmy stared at her from the floor a few feet away, "Yo Syd what happened to you? Looks like you just ran a marathon." He chuckled at the expression on her face.

"I just met the most beautiful girl and totally fucked up my chances with her cause I left so quickly." Sydney put her hands into her face and just sat there marinating in her embarrassment.

Carmy had some strong suits, his attention to detail one of them. He noticed something poking out of one of the books. He grabbed it, hoping that it was something that would change Sydney's mood before he had to work with her for more hours than they could count. He grinned taking the note out of the book and reading it,

"Hey Syd," He reached out to give her the note.

She looked up from behind her fingers, "What?"

He shook his hand, implying he wanted her to take the note from his grip. She groaned, then leaned forward to forcefully take it out of his hand.

She read the note, and smiled. Thank God you slipped her this note.

cookbook girl -

i hope you enjoy your SIX cookbooks, i have some more you could borrow for some inspiration. text me

Sydney's face heated up as she leaned back into door and scoffed.

Carmy had saved the day, one again.

[scribbledghost]

I don't know if you're still taking requests for fem!simon, but if so, I was wondering what she'd think if she had a partner who is pagan and a witch. I work with tarot cards, study deity work, and made an alter for my native ancestors and planning one for Apollo soon. I have a lot of family members who are a bit skeptical or close-minded about this stuff, so I always appreciate the moments spent where people are genuinely accepting and/or interested in understanding. :)

To be honest, I wasn't planning on taking requests for fem!Simon at the moment (not saying i never will again - you know I love my girl), but since I'm also a pagan and a witch, I had to drop everything to do this one lol. Granted, my own work is mostly deity-based (along with tarot and rune work), but a lot of what you described sounds like my own experiences. My own family doesn't know I'm pagan, and I'll likely never tell them.

Buuuut as for Fem!Simon:

I think at first, she doesn't quite know what to think. Growing up, her family wasn't particularly religious in any sense of the word, and she was never really interested in changing that later.

So when you come along and she spots your tarot cards, altar, etc., she kind of does a double-take. Like an "uhh. Yeah. Sure. This is a thing you're interested in. Why not."

But when you start explaining the ins and outs of your own practice to her, she finds herself incredibly interested.

I think she finds particular interest in the tarot cards. Especially the Death one after you explain that it's typically less of a bad omen and more of a signal of cycles ending. She may very well get a tattoo of the original Rider–Waite design or one inspired by it.

She might have you start doing readings for her before she leaves for deployment, just to see what sorts of messages she gets. Good or bad, she wants any sort of help she can get.

(reminds me of the first time my sister let me do an oracle card reading for her and her message was essentially "stop being an asshole" lmao. Can't say she disagreed with that assessment though)

Any time you want to talk to her about your deity work or your ancestors, she is incredibly down to just sit and listen. Truthfully, I'm not sure I'd say she 100% believes every part of it (at least the deity work portion), but that doesn't matter - it's something you're interested in, so she's going to sit down and hang on your every word.

She knows next to nothing about her ancestors past her grandparents, so she's very intrigued by the idea of ancestor work and wants to know more.

Starts bringing you pretty rocks she finds while she's away. Is it a legit type of crystal? Most likely not. Sometimes she'll get lucky and find some agate or even a geode, but it's mostly just standard rocks. But to her credit, they are very pretty, and they remind her of you. She's a little confused, but she's got the spirit.

I also headcanon that she's into building things, so she'll definitely offer to make you a new altar space for either the one you already have for your ancestors or for the one you're planning for Apollo. Whether you'd prefer a shelf or a full table, she'd be more than happy to make it for you.

Simon is also more than happy to go along with any sort of routine/rituals/celebrations you do. If you celebrate certain pagan holidays, she's participating. She'll help you make certain foods, do certain rituals, etc. Honestly, she just really likes seeing you in your element.

[onsunnyside]

aaaaa when mma!curtis gets hurt though!! or if he loses a match :(( extra feral and rough and nasty 🤧 reader is so concerned for him and tries to make to make him feel better, but baby, all u gotta lay there and let him tear u apart

oh he'll absolutely lose it 🫡 although he's pissed off, he's still a daddy who loves to tease:

"—fuckin' stupid ref, he didn't call any of that shit just to screw me over." His rant breaks off into curses as he struggles with his heavily bandaged fingers. Honestly, it was his fault. He couldn't sit still as you tended to his bruised and battered knuckles, now it was all sloppy and unravelling by the moment.

"Don't take it off!"

His heated eyes meet yours in the reflection, water dripping from his buzzed hair to his bearded cheeks. "What was that?"

"D-Don't take 'em off... or it'll hurt." You stutter and roll on the heels of your feet. "I don't want you to ever hurt, especially after those mean guys..." (aka his opponent who broke the rules one too many times and the ref who didn't call any of it, which led to Curtis' loss). You tug on the hem of his sweater, feeling awfully exposed because he didn't let you put on panties after your shared shower ("why would you need them?")

He breaks the tension with a grunt, gesturing you over with a nod, "c'mere, cupcake. Daddy wants to show you something."

You hesitantly obey and squeak as he tugs you closer, propping you on the counter with ease, his arms flexing deliciously. He brings your hand to his tattooed chest, right below his collarbone.

"You know what this is?"

You nod, "Your grandparent's birth year."

"Mhm, and what about this?" He trails down, dragging your fingers to his abs, inches away from his bushy pubic hair.

"Uhm, a d-dagger."

You remember when you saw it for the first time. He was in the middle of training and you walked in, nearly dropping the freshly baked cookies at the sight of him all beefy, sweaty and flushed. Curtis, being ever the observant fella, took you into the locker room and ate you out over your underwear ("Can't have my sweet girl all needy, hm? Gotta give her what she deserves." and he did, making you cream your panties so he could hide them in his bag for later).

He moves your hand to the loose towel around his waist, right over the growing bulge. "And this, sweet baby?"

You gulp, squirming as he makes you rub over his clothed cock. You can feel him growing harder, throbbing hotly under your palm.

"...it's your thing, daddy."

He tsks, shaking his head, "that's not what it's called."

You were a virgin when you met Curtis. But he didn't mind that you were inexperienced in relationships and sex, he was sweet and slow with you, allowing you to explore his body first to get you comfortable with intimacy. As much as you loved hearing him say filthy things, you were still so shy saying it yourself.

"Do I have to say it?"

"If you wanna taste it." He leans forward, softly kissing your cheek, then the other, and then your nose, dutifully ignoring your pouting lips. "C'mon, cupcake. Say it, and I'll let you keep me warm."

He knows you love that, feeling close and safe. You love holding him in your hand, or in your mouth, or one of your other holes. If you could, you'd keep him all snug every damn day.

"Then, I'll fuck your pretty face. Make you gag on my cock and try to fit my balls in your mouth—you wanna help me feel better after that shitty match, right, baby?"

[gggoldfinch]

Pls finch just a sip of what youre cookin....please im dying.....a toiny snippet

ANONNN im sorry to tell you but so far it's just outline, no substantial writing yet. I can give you a sneak peek from that outline, however 🤧 Sometimes I have to draft full ideas while writing bullet points and they get away from me 🤡 (which does make it easier to write the final piece bc I can just copy/paste and expand upon ideas from the outline. Just an unsolicited tidbit of info about my writing process lol). Go easy on me 🙏🏻 they're not nearly polished snippets:

He’s dressed like one of those ‘cow-boys’ she’d seen in movies from a time before her grandparents’ great-grandparents. The broad-brim hat on his head is fascinating and she can see small metal stars sticking off the heels of his boots around which vegetables are strewn. The stars jingle when he moves— as he pivots towards her, holding a gun close to his hip, aimed at her gut. It’s small and compact, nothing like her father’s rifle. She isn’t paying attention to his gun, though. Her shocked gasp is uncontainable when his face is revealed from beneath the brim of his cowboy hat.  Her feet involuntarily bring her a step backward and her face morphs into a mask of intrigue and horror. The man’s skin is taut and gnarled, pink and thick like scar tissue. Her mother’s palm had scarred like that when she’d grabbed the handle of a hot pan and scorched a layer of skin clean off. The triangle of his features is gaunt and harrowing— eyes sunken, an arrowhead-shaped hole where the nose should be.  “Well howdy there,” he calls out. His accent isn’t like one she’s ever heard, his syllables elongated and slurred together. He juts the gun out towards her more directly and the patinated silver shines dully in the sunlight.

I guess I'll also note that this one will be in third person (obv), and can be read as either Reader or OFC (I've been moving away from xReaders lately but want to make it palatable...)

Also, hehe,

Later that night she approaches him curiously, cautiously. She decided earlier that the man is exciting and new. He’s dark and mysterious, gruff and hardened by a world she cannot fathom outside her door. His grotesque appearance strangely adds to his allure; she thinks he’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. He's the first man she’s interacted with on her own and as a grown woman— an opportunity to test her curiosity, if he is open to it. She wants his calloused, scarred hands to touch her like the women in the magazine. She stands between his spread knees and takes the hat from the couch cushion beside him, placing it on her own head and meaning it this time.

[shoukiko]

Hi, you can keep this unanswered and not post it, but I want to help you understand the thought behind some of the points in your criticism post. Before I start I want to apologise if I come off as blunt and rude, that's not my intention and I'll try my best to show my tone as unthreatening but I'm autistic and not a native English speaker, which complicates things lol

*general you used throughout the ask

First, I want to start with this: they all are part of the army. You don't need to dig much to see you'll rarely see a "morally upstanding" person in the army, be it because they're cheaters, abusers, compliant with all that or they're (insert -ist/-phobe category here). UK military spouses are 3 times more likely to experience intimate partner violence (IPV). I'm not saying the COD characters need to be written like that, but it wouldn't be "unrealistic" if we take real life statistics into account.

Second, and maybe the most important thing, everyone writes COD characters OOC. The majority of the active fandom on Tumblr and tiktok have seen gifs and 10min out of context clips from the game at best. It's to be expected to not frequently find something actually in character for a lot of the guys. Especially with characters that are just operators like König, Nikto and Krueger. In their case everything is and isn't OOC at the same time because we just... Don't know these characters. We lack characterisation past maybe 1-3 traits about them. I'd argue that's why the fandom liked König so much, other than being masked, he's the perfect paper doll! You can dress him up in whatever characterisation you want and it probably won't contradict his canon (because he barely has one and what he has is quickly misinterpreted (anxiety disorder turning into shyness for example)).

Now specifically on your "How are you going to hc a victim as the abuser?" - simple, whether you like to accept it or not is up to you, but it's not far fetched for victims to become abusers later in life. Just look at serial killers statistics - 74% of US serial killers were psychologically abused and 42% were physically abused as children and later in life followed a similar pattern brought to an extreme. Or on the other hand, a tamer example would be generational trauma because that's how we get that (grandparent was abused and because that's all they know, they implement it in bringing up their child who, for the same reason, implements it in bringing up the grandchild and so on).

The final thing I want to say is, it's good to block people who you don't vibe with. Doesn't matter if it's because they wrote something that personally disturbed you or you simply don't like their blog theme or you see them too often in the tag. Personally curating your experience is key in fandom, utilise the tools Tumblr has given us. Of course as you and others have mentioned that's impossible without some assistance from the other side. Tagging is extremely important (tagging with the correct words without censoring!!! Or the filter won't catch! Rape, noncon, incest ✅; r@pe, n*nc*n, 1nc*st ✖️✖️).

I hope this isn't too messy or long aaaa

I really appreciate you taking the time to type this up and actually speak to me about this, your input is very appreciated. /gen

I do think I could've done better on that post since I wrote it in the heat of the moment, all characters are written OOC and it was ignorant of me to say

"Maybe read the characters backstories and actually take their past into consideration because you guys kinda look dumb for making these characters so OOC."

I hope ya'll can really take the time to see my POV, I did not mean. any harm, I've come across some gross things, but blocking and filtering tags so much as begun to be tiring.

My main issue is tagging, without tagging I am left with getting triggered by random posts because the first few sentences may include something on my trigger list.

That's all I want and also what a lot of other people want.

Writing is meant for anyone and everyone, a form of art and perhaps a for of therapy.

Please tag your work, you are not the only person on the internet.

Thank you for reading!

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Let's call it Fate | Part 7

(A/N) Another reasonable long post. I am proud of myself and I'll get myself a cookie now. Good day.

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x Reader (no Y/N)

Warning: google translate translations, abusive parents (especially mother), arranged marriage, age gap, bullying, talk of grandparents and death of a grandparent, mistreatment of Ghouls

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

You woke up exhausted and confused, questions running through your mind. How did you get to bed last night, you surely couldn’t remember walking back to your room. So if you hadn’t brought yourself here, then who did?

The answer came to you immediately. There was only one person that could have after all. Copia. And you needed to thank him.

One glance at your phone told you that you had missed breakfast. Might as well take your time in that case. So, you got up and took a long, hot shower to get rid of the sore muscles. You even decided to sit down for a few minutes and let the water rain on you as you thought back on the last few days. And no matter where you tried to direct your thoughts, they always came back to the kind Cardinal as a smile spread on your face.

You quickly finished washing up before you shut off the water. Once you and your hair were dry, you went back to your room and put on the habit before grabbing your Latin books. You contemplated leaving them there but at the same time, you wanted to study whenever you got a chance. You also grabbed the book Copia had borrowed from the library for you, in case you grew tired of studying. And then you were on your way.

Your first stop was the greenhouse. Papa Primo had allowed you to grab fruits from there whenever you felt hungry, and since you missed breakfast, you just wanted to have a little something to eat while you waited for lunch.

“Ah, buongiorno. Sleep well?”

You smiled at the Papa as you sat your bag down on the chair you usually occupied, before grabbing a basket and heading to the back.

“I did. A little too well, if I’m honest. Although, I’m still sore from yesterday.”

Papa Primo chuckled, watching you plug some berries.

“I told you to leave the heavy lifting to the Ghouls. There’s a reason they are forte.”

You shrugged with your back still turned toward the old man.

“It was quicker that way. Plus it was fun, so I didn’t mind.”

“But now you do.”

You returned with a full basket and smiled at him.

“Yeah, now I do.”

Papa Primo chuckled and watched as you put half of the fruits you just harvested into a second basket, before placing the basket in front of him.

“Ah, for me, tesoro? Grazie.”

You nodded and pressed a quick kiss to the man’s forehead, before walking to the door.

“Eat them, and stay hydrated, yeah? I’ll bring you some lunch later.”

Papa Primo nodded and waved as you left the greenhouse and made your way back to the main building. There you walked straight to the library and to your little nook. As you were about to throw your stuff onto the table, you noticed a small stack of papers with a little note on top. You picked it up, smiling as you read it.

“Buongiorno cara, under this note you will find some maps of the Ministry, I hope they can help you find your way around here. If you want some company while you study, find me in my office, I marked it on the map. Con amore, Copia.”

You gently put the note down, before picking up the papers and looking at the map. You expected something printed out but you quickly realized that it was hand-drawn. With a grin, you picked the note back up, before studying the maps to figure out how to get to Copia’s office. Once you were somewhat sure that you knew the way, you walked out of the library and toward your goal.

Even with the map it took you quite a while to reach the office. By then, it was almost time for lunch. Still, you knocked on the door and waited for permission to enter. As soon as you heard the faint voice of Copia, you gently opened the door and stepped inside.

“Ah, cara. I see you found my note.”

You smiled and nodded, before closing the door and stepping further into the room. It looked more like an office than what Papa Terzo had, but it still felt cozy. Copia quickly finished writing something, before shuffling the papers on the desk around, until one half was free.

“Please, make yourself comfortable.”

He got to his feet and grabbed an extra chair, placing it beside his own. You quickly rushed forward, waving your hands.

“Please, I don’t want to impose, you surely need your space to work.”

“Nonsense, it’s perfectly fine. Come.”

As he insisted, you made your way over to the desk and put your back down, before pulling your books out. You also placed the basket of fruits on the table and smiled at the Cardinal, saying that you could share those. He nodded and sat back down with a smile. After a few moments of grabbing everything you needed, you put your back onto the ground and sat down as well.

The two of you worked in silence for a while, occasionally snacking on the fruits. As you were writing index cards with vocabulary, you absentmindedly reached out towards the basket, jumping slightly as your hand bumped into Copia’s. You looked up at him and he smiled as he took hold of your hand, squeezing it before gently placing it back down. But as soon as he started releasing it, you reached back for his, intertwining your fingers, before resting your hand on the desk.

His eyes widened before the skin around them crinkled as he smiled at you.

You stayed that way until a soft bell chimed through the Ministry, signaling that it was time for lunch. With a heavy sigh, Copia put his pen down and leaned back in his chair, pulling your intertwined hands into his lap.

“Can I ask you something?”

Copia looked at you, smiling through his obvious exhaustion.

“Naturalmente.”

“Why are you working on a Saturday?”

A deep chuckle sounded from his chest as he closed his eyes for a few moments, leaning his head back. He squeezed your hand tightly before looking back at you.

“It’s things that didn’t get done during the week. And since my fratello is busy enjoying his weekend, and I don’t have anything better to do, I thought I might as well.”

“Hm…let’s make a deal.”

He looked at you, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

“What kind of deal?”

“I'll help you with the paperwork after lunch and if we get it done today, you will join me tomorrow. I’m having a picnic with the Ghouls and want to explore the Ministry a bit more. Sounds like more fun if I’m not alone.”

Copia chuckled and nodded, squeezing your hand before answering.

“Okay, deal.”

You grin up at him and get to your feet, pulling him alone.

“Come on, I have a lunch date.”

With your hand still in his, you walked to the door, gently dragging Copia along with you. But he stopped once you mentioned a date.

“Wait, with whom?”

You turned around, still grinning, knowing that you could rile him up like that.

“Your brother. Papa Primo.”

He visibly relaxed, the frown softening once his eyes met yours.

“Well, we better get you down there then. Mind if I join you two?”

“Hm… I think I can allow it this once.”

You giggled but as soon as you stepped out of the office, reality came crashing down and you slowly let go of Copia’s hand. The bright grin faded as you were reminded of why you were here and what would happen in just a few weeks. A shiver ran through you at the thought and everything inside you screamed to run back into the office and forget about everything, at least for a few more hours. But instead, you forced your feet to take one step after the other.

“Cara, are you alright?”

You turned to look at Copia, his hand was still hanging in mid-air, where you had let it go and his face was pulled into a frown. He looked concerned as he watched you.

“Ye-yeah…just…forgot all my problems for a bit and they came rushing back.”

Within a second, Copia was right in front of you, quickly wrapping you up in his arms and pulling you against him. Without hesitation, you returned the hug, hiding your face in his cassock as he gently stroked you back.

“It will be alright, cara.”

You nodded and after a few more moments gently pushed away from him.

“Let’s get lunch.”

Copia nodded, a sad smile on his face as he placed his hand on the small of your back, leading you to the mess hall.

Translations: buongiorno...good morning forte...strong tesoro...little treasure/darling Garzie...thank you Buongiorno cara...Good morning my dear Con amore...with love cara...dear Naturalmente...of course

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Ghost Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

Tags: @antoniamarie1989

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[goose-duck]

♡Our World♡ (pt. 2)

Killer x Reader

Killer from One Piece but he's in our world and he meets u :D

In this part there's a storm and he comforts u :]

Pt 1 Pt 3

~~~~~~

I hear beginning to rain. It's hurricane season where I live so the rain isn't shocking, especially not after having gotten a hurricane warning earlier. I think for a second if Killer will be okay then I remember he literally lives on the ocean, he'll probably be more okay than me. I quite scared of hurricanes. As a child the house I lived in would flood any time there was a hurricane, to say it was traumatic would be an understatement. This house doesn't flood but the fear from my childhood is seared deep into my mind. I’ve lived alone for a year now in my grandparents old house, so I can handle being alone in a storm…kinda, I do a lot of crying and hiding under my blankets. I realize I don't have to be alone this time…Killer’s here…but…he might not want to deal with me and my fear of storms…maybe he just wants to sleep…I'll just leave him alone…for now.

A little while later the rain starts to pick up and so does my heartrate. I can handle this, I'm okay. I don't need to freak out, not with Killer in the house. I don't think he'd judge me but I don't want to inconvenience him…that's a big worry of mine, that I'm inconveniencing people. I feel like I'm already doing that with Killer, I didn't have any food for him and I don't have clothes for him…he told me it was fine but he's probably just being nice. I sigh, being annoyed with my own self depreciating thoughts.

Suddenly I hear thunder and I scream. I immediately cover my mouth, worried Killer heard my pathetic scream. It seems he did as I hear the guest room door open and I hear footsteps. Soon there's a knock at my door, “you okay?” I expected him to sound tired, I'd thought I woken him up, but he sounds worried..I guess that scream did sound pretty bad. I try to answer but I was too scared to speak, just barely letting out small inaudible squeaks. Killer knocks again, a bit louder, “Y/N?” if he wasn't worried before he definitely is now. I try to talk again but I can't, I just can't, it's so annoying but I'm so fucking scared. Killer tries to open the door this time bit it won't budge, I have it locked, I always lock my door even though I live alone now, I'm very paranoid, so, it just feels right.

I hear Killer getting more desperate trying to open the door. I don't understand why he's so worried, we just met, I can't be that great, can I? I bring myself back to the situation at hand, he might break my door if I don't open it so try to stand up to open the door but my legs are wobbly from my fear and I fall trying to stand up from my bed. The thud that comes from me hitting the floor seems to send Killer over the edge, the masked man breaking my door off its hinges and rushing inside. When he sees me on the floor, he gets worried. “Y/N!?” He comes over to me and knees beside me. Thunder strikes again and I whimper, curling in on myself as if that would save me from lightning. Killer quickly figures our what's going on and gently puts a hand on my back, “hey…it's okay…your safe…” he whispers to me, I just shake my head, tears forming in my eyes as the rain and wind pick up again. He thinks for a few seconds, not sure what to say. “I'll protect you, you're safe with me, I promise.” He says, sounding very sure of himself. This gets my attention…he's gonna protect me from the storm? It sounds so stupid but I feel safer…how'd he know what to say..? He must be really good at reading people.

I put one of my hands on his knee closest to my reach, showing him I trust him. He rubs my back a bit before deciding I shouldn't be on the floor when I'm like this and he picks me up and puts me on my bed. I didn't expect him to do that, I figured he'd just comfort me from my spot on the floor or just ask me to move off the floor but he moved me himself…he's so nice to me…why..? Whatever. Now isn't the time for that, he's here and he's helping me, I should just accept it. He doesn't stand up or sit on the bed with me, he stays on his knees on the floor, sitting in front of me and taking my hand in his larger one. He gently rubs the palm of my hand, it's weird, usually it's the back of the hand, but he picked my palm.

I stare at our hands watching how gentle he's being even as u shake and occasionally flinch. “Why my palm?” I quietly ask. “your hands, the veins on the back, it can be uncomfortable to have those touched, so I went with your palm…is that okay..?” He responds, whispering gently. I nod at him, “it feels good..” he nods back, “I'm here, don't worry, I won't leave.” “Thank you..” I put my free hand on top of his helmet as if he could feel it. I feel him look at me, he seems to be wondering what I'm doing. He then uses his free hand to move my hand off his helmet. Then he starts taking his helmet off and I panic a bit, “are you sure!?” I ask worriedly. “it'll make you feel better.” he responds as if he's known me for years. “I look at him a bit shocked before my face melts into a soft smile…no one's cared like this before…I just met him…why..? Maybe I really have gone crazy.

He takes his helmet off and I see his beautiful face. He lets out some air he'd been holding in then looks me in the eyes, looks worried for my reaction, he's searching my face for my emotions. I know I look absolutely starstruck. He's beautiful in the manga and in the anime, but it's nothing compared to the real deal…he's perfect. He's sees the look on my face, my mouth slightly open and my eyes wide, he thinks I'm scared. “I'm sorry…I can put ut back on if-” I cut him off by putting my finger tips on his cheek, “Killer…” I say his name like this is a dream, gently touching his face, brushing my fingers lightly over his skin. He's real, this is real, his face, I can see it, touch it…he's really here…”you're perfect…” it's his turn to be shocked now, giving me a stunned look as I run my fingers along his jawline…I smile at him sweetly, “hello…” I say it like I'm meeting a god, someone with heavenly beauty, this is him, I'm seeing him.

He returns my soft smile, softly putting his hand over the one I have on his face, “hey…” he whispers back. Thunder strikes again and flinch and whimper, clenching my hand and pulling his facial hair a bit. He doesn't even flinch when I do this, he just holds my hand tighter, whispering, “shhh…it's okay…it's okay…you aren't alone.” it's like he knew exactly what to hit ‘you aren't alone’ I needed that so bad…I needed to not be alone back then and I've been alone so long…but here he is…I'm not alone.

He uses his thumb to push my hand open, he then moves it to his mouth, not caring it's smudging his purple lipstick. He kisses my hand a few times with his eyes closed before looking me in the eyes. His hand that was rubbing my palm now moves to my face, cupping it easily and he brushes my cheek with his thumb. I then follow his earlier actions, putting my hand over his, “you're here…I'm safe…I'm not alone…” he smiles reassuring at me, “good job…” he whispers against my now lipstick covered palm, “you're safe.” “I'm safe.” I repeat back, smiling at him.

I then turn my head against his hand as kiss his palm, mumbling an ‘I love you’ into his hand, but he doesn't hear it.

“why are down there..?” I ask him. “on the floor?” he wonders. “yeah…” I respond quietly. “I'm here so you don't feel uncomfortable…with how scared you were I was worried you'd be more scared if I looked as big as I do…so I made myself look smaller.” he says sweetly, giving me an almost loving look. “you can come up here now…I'll be okay…” “you sure?” “yeah…I don't want to make you sit on the floor.” “alright.” he gets up, sitting beside me on the bed. I look at him, no longer knowing what to do with my hands now that his aren't on them. He looks back at me, understanding what my problem is. He puts his hand that's beside mine on top of my hand, putting his thumb underneath it to rub my palm again.

I lean against his arm, “Killer…” I wishper to him. “hm?” “you're too nice to me…we just met.” “you needed help, I'm here to help.” “why?” “you didn't have to let me stay with you but you did…and you didn't have to talk to me while we were at your workplace, but you did, you talked to me the whole time.” “how do you know I wasn't just lonely?” “you don't strike me as the type to talk to someone you don't like.” he smiles at me, he knows he's got my personality down to a T. “how do you know me like there was never a time before we met?” I ask, giving him a soft smile. He runs his free hand through my hair before responding, “you knew so much about me from that book you read that you were already comfortable with me and told me everything about yourself…it's not hard to understand someone who tells you the inner workings of their mind, psychologist in training.” he jokes a bit at the end about the schooling I'm currently doing. I cuddle against him a bit more, “not everyone listens though…” “well, maybe I just thought you were worth listening to.” I tear up a bit at that, “thank you.” he doesn't respond to that, in his mind believing I'm worth listening to shouldn't be such a shock to me. He lays his head on top of mine, “okay.”

After a while I fall asleep against him and he stops playing with my hair and rubbing my palm. He gently puts me in bed, debating if he should leave me alone. He ultimately decides against it, sitting beside the bed and holding my hand while I sleep. He stays there all night just for me, just in case I wake up and need him, he's there.

I wake up in the early morning around 3:00am. I feel something warm around my hand, initially I freak out, waking Killer up in the process. He squeezes my hand and tiredly says, “it's just me…” I calm down, my whole body relaxing realizing it's Killer, “you're still here..?” “want me to leave?” “no.” “okay.” we stay like this for a while before I speak again, “get in bed.” “what?” “I don't want you on the floor again.” “in bed?” “mhm” “you sure?” “wouldn't have said it otherwise.” “okay.” he gets into bed with me, awkwardly laying on the other side for a second before getting used to it. He turns to look at me, I'm already looking him, he looks a but shocked but calms down quickly. I reach my hand out towards him, silently urging him to hold it again. He quickly complies, gently grasping my hand again. I quickly fall asleep and he does too, both of us having the sleep of our lives.

The next morning the hurricane is over. I wake up in Killer’s arms, he's so warm, it's nice. He's already awake…wait…what? That means he's holding me willingly…Woah… “good morning, Y/N” he says gently. I look up at his pretty face, “good morning, Killer.” he smiles at me and I smile back. “want me to let go?” he askes. “hell no.” I state back with minimal thought. I feel him stifle a giggle in my hair, laying his head against the top of mine. I'm happy to be in his arms and he wants me here…it's nice…it's really nice to feel wanted like this…

My phone rings on the side table and I groan knowing this means I have to leave Killer’s warm embrace. He seems confused as to what the sound is. “it's my phone…I gotta answer that.” “like a snail?” “yeah.” “okay…I'm right here when you're done.” i smile at him before groaning when is see it's my boss calling me. I answer the phone, “hello?...oh?...okay…I'm still getting paid, right?...good good…yes, that's fine…thank you. Bye.” Killer looks at me confused, “what was that about?” “I don't gotta work for a while, boss said part of the courthouse is fucked so I don't gotta work till it's fixed annndddd the best part, I'll get my full pay the whole time!!” I say excitedly. Killer gives me a confused smile then pulls me back down with him, “that mean we can do this a bit longer?” “yeah.” I cuddle into him, falling asleep again. He stays awake just rubbing my back and enjoying the look of my face, my scent and every little feature that makes me, me.

[bitchinbarzal]

https://www.tumblr.com/bitchinbarzal/730842827583569920/ik-that-mama-h-and-nico-were-split-up-for-a-while

Nico and Iris are watching the movie Barbie and the 12 dancing princesses (my favorite if you ask me) and in the wedding scene Iris is so excited and asks Nico “daddy, did you and mom danced like that at your wedding?”

And Nico is like shit no! He hasn't even proposed to you

That night Nico goes to bed thinking that he should ask MamaH to marry him because there is no reason why they shouldn’t get married so in the next morning he starts planning the proposal, he brings Iris to help him buy the rings

“Iris baby listen, this is very special for mom, that's why the ring we choose has to be the most beautiful in the world, okay mom deserves it”

One thing is for sure and that is Nico really wants to propose to her in Switzerland so he involves his entire family, Nico tells them the idea of ​​the marriage proposal and everyone is excited

“Your mom called me and said she would love to see the kids before you start the season, what do you think?”

“Okay, I'll buy the plane ticket to night” (fun fact he bought the tickets 3 week ago)

Days later, when they are in Switzerland, Nico tells MamaH to go for a walk while the children are with their grandparent’s

“Oh do you want to go for a hike? okay I'll go change my clothes and..”

“No, no it's not necessary, I just want to walk”

After a while, Nico and Mom stop to appreciate the landscape of the Swiss Alps

“Do you remember the first time you came to Switzerland to meet my family?”

“Of course I remember, you are very lucky to have been born in this beautiful place baby”

“I'm luckier now that I have you and my babies”

*This is where the marriage proposal begins*

“I'm very happy that we are together now, and I know that there are many ways to be happy, but none as satisfying as the happiness I found at your side, the first time I lost you I thought my world had ended because from the first time I saw you,you became my world but after so many storms we are finally together again, and I know it wasn't easy but I refuse to let you go for a second time, nothing is going to make me leave your side again my destiny is to be by your side with Iris and Luca, I can't imagine a life without you by my side, every morning when I wake up the first thing I want is to see your smile and the last thing I want to do before closing my eyes is kiss you. And I want to do this for the rest of my life, I want to give you my world... Y/N, will you marry me?”

Now I’m crying.

This is everything 🥺😭

[bexktaegeun]

Hello Hello

hello, introducing my bby! kwon taegeun! it was split between him and another muse! hopefully i can bring her later! now onto my baby! below i'll have his about linked and under the link! i'll have some basic info about him AND some lose plot ideas! if you see something you like or you think he'll fit or if you just wanna plot! let me know! 

also quick edit! open for water bomb event plotting!

ABOUT 

was born on august 18th 2005 in daegu

his fathers second child from his girlfriend who dumped tae with him

he finally settled down in his 3rd major relationship and second (rich) wife

he was cared for growing up and spent a lot of time with his grandparents on his dads side 

grew up with his step-mom as his mom and her family were nice-ish but it was clear that tae was seen as separate 

but still, he grew up with money so like...that's good right? 

a lot of missed in events in his life but it was made up with toys and money, he was well fed, sure his parents didn't care when he wanted to go off and become a trainee but they never forgot a birthday

he tried to bring it up once and was guilted in silence so he never brought it up again

as soon as he found out about taeha, he started to look for her

it was what pushed him to come to seoul, along with wanting to become a trainee

he's sad boy, he feels lonely at and fills the void with friends or parties or just being around people 

he downplays his parents treatment

actually, would downplay anyone's treatment of him because he's convinced himself he's lucky

is lying to taeha about how much contact he has with their dad and that he's funded by his dad, she thinks its all coming from the grandparents 

does love attention when he gets it

wants to be beloved by everyone and anyone, just to fill the void a little 

maybe, if he becomes super beloved his parents would notice him more

maybe his birth mom would seek him out? 

loves his older sister and loves having an older siblings

kinda buys his friends, he does want them but he doesn't want them to leave so he spends money 

easily taken advantage of and will excuse mistakes

in his last year at school

is taking dance/vocal/rap lessons, likes to run the streets to hang out, is on a dance crew and has gotten into working on music

pours all of himself into that because he wants it back 

when he's not dancing....he...has a random interest in wood-working? well, when your a kid who has money..skys the limit

also as much more normal interest: mysteries, food (baking but doesn't mind cooking), coffee black, enjoys sour candy and foods, he wouldn't call himself a gamer but he does play harvest moon and cooking momma

loves over the top dramas 

biromantic king! 

PLOTS / CONNECTIONS 

 i haven't said which high school...so some high school friends or friend?

you have a super expensive meal out and he totes cover the bill when you can find your wallet

rivals? street cats? both of you are dancers and often compete and try to out best each other like fighting cats 

use him! i mean it! if your muse is hard on money, he's an easy target because he'll give within reason and gift even more 

he has one or two npc friends that def just use him for things and he makes excuses and your a new friend OR old friend and your like wtf? they don't care about you but he just wants to be wanted

a past summer romance...like last summer with a female muse but she broke it off when school started, it wasn't anything serious but tae has been crushed. sure, he's getting over feelings for another and SURE you both agreed it was just some summer time fun to appear at parties together or just have something for the gram but it's kinda weird when ya'll share a friend group but tae pretends like you aren't there. (to mention, nothing really would've happened it was like one month romance of cute dates, maybe some kisses and a lot of posting each other or hanging out together. maybe it was time for you muse to buckle down on school) 

dance/vocal/rap/producer muses if you have plots or crews he could join

he's taking spanish and english lessons (fucking random but he meets people) 

also has picked up the guitar and drums if you wanna do something around that!

uh, he has a small website in which he sells some of his crafts, so maybe for that! it's wood works, paintings, carvings and etc! 

any muses who have part-times jobs and have places that would be hiring! his grandparents are legit concerned about how he views money and has told him to get a job, so he will

With that! I thank everyone for the welcomes! If you see something you like, message me or if you think he could fill your plot! Just like this and I'll come to you!