#it was my first time making buttercream frosting and it came out so delicious!

[3ashell]

my family lovesss the strawberry buttercream white cake I made!

[svtswhorehouse]

YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND

pairing: choi seungcheol x reader genre: mdni, smut warnings: reader’s birthday, little mention of bondage by ribbons, pussy eating, mentions of dom cheol, fingering, making out, slight finger sucking, pet names, mentions of a round two idk. word count: 1.8k side note: it’s my birthday today so here’s a little something!!! hellllllllo twenty-one, you’re not ready for me!! also, i wrote this so quickly cause i was trying to get it out by my birthday so i apologize if it’s not that great.

You have always looked pretty in pink. It was your favorite color — one that made you stand out and surely one that appeared spectacular against your skin tone at the current moment.

You glanced up at the pretty ribbon tied in a cute little bow around your wrists. The piece of fabric once used for your hair now bounding your arms to the bedpost, preventing you from moving. You laid flat on the mattress, your body completely bare and head elevated by a soft pillow as you anxiously awaited the arrival of your boyfriend. Claiming he had a very important task to finish, Seungcheol unfortunately left the room right as things were just beginning to get heated. Despite saying it wouldn’t take that long, five minutes seemed to feel like years as your body was hot and your heart was racing.

With your eyes narrowing in on the clock, the time read 11:58 p.m and it was only two minutes away from an annual milestone in your life. As if right on cue, as soon as midnight struck, the door creaked open. 

Your eyes flew to the entrance immediately, excitement on your face as your boyfriend entered. In his hands was a pink cake in the shape of a heart, sprinkles and edible glitter all around it to make it pretty. Candles displaying your age were lit at the top and waiting for you to blow them out as Seungcheol shielded the flame with one hand.

The boy smiled at you, walking closer to the spot in which you couldn’t move from. “Happy birthday baby.” He held the cake close to your face and you took the time to admire the beauty of it. Seungcheol was a man that took consideration and time into doing something, and although he didn’t make or decorate the cake himself, he definitely put thought into choosing it out from the bakery. 

“Thank you Cheolie.” You spoke looking at him with eyes full of admiration and love at the kind gesture. He was always someone who scolded others who didn’t wish him at exactly twelve a.m whenever his birthday rolled around, so you could surely count on him to be the first person to wish you when it came down to it.

Seungcheol’s eyes lit up in slight excitement at your gaze. A blush was beginning to form on his cheeks, however he cleared his throat and it died down rather quickly. “Make a wish.” He encouraged.

Closing your eyes, you did as he said before opening them back up again. Directly in your line of vision was Seungcheol who’s gaze never left yours once as he took some of the buttercream frosting on his index and middle finger, holding them up to your lips.

“Open.” He said, the words sounding like a command.

Listening obediently, you opened your mouth wide and happily took in his fingers. You sucked the frosting clean off, coming to the conclusion that it was rather delicious as your tongue lingered to swirl around his digits. You were doing an impeccable job at maintaining eye contact with your boyfriend, the simple action causing his pants to tighten as his cock grew even harder when you let out a moan. 

“Shit.” He mumbled under his breath, however it didn’t quite reach your ears as the only thing you could hear was the pop as soon as his fingers left your mouth. “What did you wish for pretty girl?” He asked, genuinely curious.

A seductive look was displayed on your face as you spoke in a whisper. “I think you know.”

Seungcheol waited a beat to gather himself before finally giving in and leaning down to crash his lips against yours. The kiss was soft at first, soon turning rough when he rested a hand on your throat. You let out a small sound of pleasure, Cheol taking advantage of the moment in which your lips parted to enter his tongue into your mouth. You allowed him to explore, your wet muscle intertwining with his in perfect harmony just as it always does.

As he pulled away to break the kiss, you were left with your lips chasing his, only to be held down by the restraint he put you in before. The boy chuckled as you tugged, looking at him with desperate doe eyes. 

“You’re too cute.” He said before dipping down to trail light kisses along your neck and down to your stomach. “My pretty, pretty girl.” The praise left you whining for more, his sultry eyes adding more fuel to the fire as he got closer and closer to your lower regions. Your breath picked up, getting heavy as you anticipated his every move.

In one swift motion, Seungcheol grabbed your knees to tear them apart from each other and admire the spot between your legs. 

The sudden act of your pussy being on full display for him caused you to shrink into yourself, feeling shy at his sudden attention on such an intimate part of your body.

“What baby?” Seungcheol asked, furrowing his eyebrows in fake curiousity as he noticed your timidity. “Isn’t this what you wished for.” He inched his face closer to your core with a shit eating grin — one that would of had you smacking the back of his head if it was any other time, but for now just had you begging for more.

“I-.” You tried to start, but was left speechless as the only thing you could pay attention to were the kisses he was beginning to leave on the insides of your thighs. He was far too close to the one spot that was craving the most of his attention, but it was left neglected as he skipped over it every single time. “Cheol.” You groaned, wiggling your hips as the impatience began to sink in. You were practically presented to him on a silver platter, but despite that he still refused to give you what you wanted.

Maybe he enjoyed seeing you suffer — or maybe he rather enjoyed the fact that he could see you getting wetter by the minute from his point of view the longer he made you wait. 

At last, he finally laid a gentle kiss directly on your clit. The action caused you to let out a loud moan as you bucked your hips up in an attempt to grind against his face. Laughing to himself, Seungcheol was quick to wrap a strong arm around your waist to prevent your lower half from moving any more than it already has.

“Patience baby.”

You rolled your eyes at his words and let out a huff to audibly let him know that you weren’t happy with the denial of your pleasure. “But it’s my birthday!” You protested.

Seungcheol sighed, knowing that you were in fact right and it wouldn’t hurt to let you get what you wanted at least just for one night. “And whatever the birthday girl wants, the birthday girl gets.” He gave in, eyes softening slightly. 

Although the inner dom in him wasn’t too happy about his choice of throwing in the towel, especially so soon — he still decided to grant your wishes, knowing that it’s your day and it’s what you wanted for the night.

A smile spread across your face as he spoke, but your mouth soon flied open and jaw went slack from the sudden connection of his tongue lapping at your cunt. “Fuck.” You mutter, head rolling to the side and eyes closing as his mouth explored you entirely.

You have been in this position about a million times before and still, every single time it never fails to amaze you just how talented your boyfriend is with his tongue.

His wet muscle pokes at your entrance, working in and out of you, occasionally trailing back up to your clit so he can trace circles around the bud. He switches from flicking to sucking, changing it up every so often just the way you like it.

“Feels good baby?” Seungcheol asks, his mouth unlatching for a split second to take in your expression.

“Mhm. S-so good Cheolie.” You found it hard to think as your boyfriend slowly slides a finger into your dripping hole. Whining at the intrusion, you wriggle your hips when he doesn’t move. 

“What?” He asks, almost in a mocking manner. “You want more?” 

You shake your head, nodding one too many times. “Yes please.” You answered nicely, hoping it does you some justice…and it does. 

Seungcheol adds another finger, wiggling his two digits inside of you before slowly working them in and out. “Since you asked so nicely.” All too quickly, he begins to finger you at an excruciatingly fast pace as he dives into you once again. He eats you out as if he’s a starved man and you’re his last meal on earth. 

You bit down on your lip rather hard, afraid that if you didn’t the neighbors might call the cops with a noise complaint. The sound of squelching reaches your ears as he finger fucks you, determined to make you cum all over his hand. He groans into your pussy, the vibration traveling up through your body and doing nothing but adding more to the pleasure. 

The stimulation of his mouth sucking at your swollen bud and digits buried deep in your sopping wet cunt has you seeing stars. He can sense you’re close to cumming as your hole clenches around his fingers, helping add more friction against that spongy spot inside of you. 

“Cum for me babygirl,” — and you do exactly that. With a loud moan ripping through you, your body begins to shake as your orgasm washes over. You can feel every bead of sweat gathering as well as your arousal dripping down and onto the bed, but you don’t seem to care as the only thing you can focus on is receiving what you finally wished for. 

“Cheol.” You moaned his name desperately, thrusting your hips against his face as he continued with his relentless abuse on your cunt. He was determined to help you ride your orgasm out and not once did he let up until he was sure you were done.

Moving back up to your face, he placed a passionate kiss on your lips, letting you taste yourself. You were breathless and tired, chest heaving from the intense orgasm that he just gave you. “Happy birthday pretty girl.” He says yet again with a grin, but this time there’s a mischievous glint behind it. His lips run along your jaw, leaving small kisses as he allowed his hands to tangle in your hair. “You did so good hmm? My pretty girl.” You could do nothing but roll your eyes into the back of your head at the praise, still coming down from the high you had just experienced. 

Out of nowhere, still smothering you with kisses, he spoke again. “You can give me one more, can’t you baby?” He asked.

You attempted to protest, but couldn’t do so as you felt overwhelmed by the feeling of his lips on your skin. The only thing you seemed capable of was watching as he found comfort in the space between your legs yet again. 

You were in for a long night, but happy birthday to you. 

[fr3sh-tragedies]

Sweets

[Attack On Titan] Modern! Annie Leonhart x G!N Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Proof-Read: No

Content Warnings: None!

[A/N]: Sorry for kinda just...disappearing! I've had a bunch of exams already, and I got overwhelmed. I'm working on different stories/preferences/imagines for all kinds of characters, so bear with me as I try to start writing again! Also, thank you all so much for the support on my first three posts! I was really nervous to post my works on here, but I'm so relieved to know you enjoy them!

I hope you enjoy this as well!

-Okay, so–

-We know Annie has a sweet tooth and absolutely loves sweet foods like pastries

-So, when she comes home one day to the smell of something deliciously sweet, wandering into the kitchen to investigate who could be responsible for her mouth watering and stomach growling, she’s surprised to see you in front of the oven

-She examines you for a moment

-You’re in a apron dusted in flour and sugar, and your hair is tied back to keep it out of your face

-She has always adored seeing you get focused and enthusiastic about your interests, so when she sees your concentrated face as you level off the cakes, she can’t bite back the smile that paints her lips

-You can bake?

-And it actually looks and smells good?

-She falls in love all over again

-After a moment of her staring, you finally notice her

-You turn back with a smile and wave

-”Oh, hi, Annie! You’re just in time! Wanna help me frost and decorate these cakes? I’m making them for Sasha’s birthday.”

-She absentmindedly nods and walks over to you

-She takes a small part of the layer of cake you had cut off to level it, pops it in her mouth, and hums

-Her outward reaction is minimal, but inside she’s ecstatic

-Not only does your cake look and smell good, it tastes incredible too!

-She fails to realize that a cheeky grin crosses her face, so she’s really confused when you chuckle

-”I’m guessing it tastes good?”

-She looks at you in confusion

-You point to your own mouth and then to her

-She finally registers that she’s smiling and blushes, turning her head away to hide herself a bit

-She still nods though

-You smile and turn back to the cakes

-At length, she turns back and watches as you layer the cakes with buttercream

-”What do you need me to do?” She asks

-”Oh. I was gonna see if you could help with the decorating. You’re really good at painting and drawing and stuff, so I feel like it’ll look way better if you decorate it instead.”

-If Annie’s blush wasn’t noticeable before, it certainly was now

-Sure, she’s used to getting compliments, but never on her personal hobbies

-And the fact that compliment came from you? Her favorite person?

-That alone made her heart flip

-”O-Oh, uh…sure.”

-She mentally slaps herself for stuttering

-You nod and finish putting the cakes together

-Once you finish, you wash your hands and dry them before handing her a spare apron

-She puts it on and waits as you gather the materials

-”What exactly is she wanting on the cake?”

-”Oh, she said she wanted something, like…forest-themed? I wasn’t entirely sure what to do with that. That’s kinda why I was hoping you’d agree to helping me decorate.”

-You let out a nervous chuckle

-Her expression is dead serious, however, as she puts a finger to her chin, the gears in her head visibly turning

-She takes her art very seriously

-She’s not going to goof around for this

-She grabs a piping bag with green frosting and gets to work

-You watch her for a bit, occasionally asking if there’s anything she needs help with, but she only shakes her head each time, her eyebrows furrowed together as she focuses on keeping her hands steady

-You realize after a moment that she wants to work on this on her own

-Instead of standing around and just watching her, you work your way around her and clean up the mess from everything else

-She’s still working by the time you finish, so you head into the living room and put on a movie

-It’s nearly two hours later when she emerges from the kitchen, small splatters of green and brown icing peppering her face and apron

-”I'm finished if you want to take a look.”

-She seems almost shy as she says this

-As stated before, she takes her art very seriously because it’s a very important personal hobby to her

-She wants you to approve of her work

-Your opinion is very important to her, even if she’s not the best at expressing it

-You smile and walk with her back over to the counter

-Leaning over to get a full view of the cake, your lips part themselves in awe

-You stay silent a little too long as Annie watches anxiously, and she assumes the worst

-”If you hate it, you can just tell me…”

-You turn to her, confused, barely realizing why she seems so upset

-”Oh! No, Annie, I don’t hate it at all! I love it. I-I’m sorry it came across that way. I’ve just…I’ve only seen your art a couple times. It just always blows me away how you know just what to do with the colors and concepts. You truly are incredible at doing what you love.”

-Your words make her heart flutter, yet another layer of blush dusting her cheeks

-She bows her head down to stare at her feet, unsure of how to properly thank you for your compliments

-Finally, she mumbles a soft, “thank you,” before wringing her hands together

-”Do you mind if I take a picture?”

-She shakes her head and takes the time you use to snap a photo to calm herself down

-You both wait for the icing to dry a bit before covering the cake and storing it in the fridge

-As you take your aprons off, Annie taps your shoulder

-You turn to find her blushing yet again and averting her gaze

-”U-Um…If you, uh…If you need help decorating anything next time you bake something, I’m willing to help.”

-You don’t respond, so she finally looks up

-Her blush worsens as she sees you staring at her with a warm smile, your eyes soft and welcoming

-”I think that’s a really good idea, Annie. We could be a little baking team.”

-She rolls her eyes at your slight enthusiasm, but she still smiles at the thought

-Each time you bake something after that, no matter how small, Annie’s always there to decorate it with or for you

-Sometimes you’ll switch things up

-She’ll bake the treat, with plenty of your guidance, and you’ll decorate, with constant suggestions and reassurances

-Holidays are especially fun because she gets really extra with designs and colors

-On Halloween, she’ll decorate your cookies and cupcakes to make them look like creatures such as spiders and roaches

-It always grosses everyone else out at first, but they truly do admire both the taste and the visuals

-Annie starts to get more compliments on her art and even starts to share it publicly

-She creates an Instagram account after plenty of your encouragement and occasionally posts pictures of her sketches, paintings, and always tags you in her posts of what you’ve created together

-Gains a large following rather quickly, and she’ll never admit it out loud, but she’s much happier and more confident in her work

-After a while, she even starts to consider going back to college to finish her Major in Art

[hintsofhoney]

Decisions

Paring(s): TASM!Peter Parker x F!Reader

Summary: You find a way to help Peter through your wedding planning procrastination.

Tags: 18+, fluff, strip tease, implied smut

Word Count: 1k

A/N: This was inspired by a scene in the movie “About Time”. It’s been sitting in my WIP folder for a while, and it was the first thing I ever wrote for him. GIF is mine. Hope you guys enjoy!

You can also read me on Ao3!

PETER PARKER MASTERLIST | MCU MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

You watched your fiancé from the doorway of your bedroom as he sat in his favorite armchair — the only arm chair in your small New York City apartment — and thumbed through the pages of his favorite book. You crossed your arms and leaned against the framing, a loud sigh escaping you to make it known that you were there. He looked up from his novel, a small smile coming to his lips — he always smiled like that when he looked at you — before raising his eyebrows in question. 

“We need to decide on something, Peter. The wedding is five months away and we don’t even have a venue pinned down yet!” 

He chuckled softly before closing his book and setting it down on the coffee table. “I am good with whatever you want, baby.” 

“No, no — this is our wedding. We’re deciding together,” you retorted, taking a few steps closer to him. 

He smiled up at you as you came to stand in between his legs, his arms coming to wrap around your thighs as he rested his chin on your abdomen. Your hands instinctively found their way to his chestnut locks, stroking them as you stared back down at him with a face of determination. 

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered.

“Stop that.” You couldn’t help the blush that crept up in your cheeks. 

“I don’t want to.”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever, Parker. How about this… for every decision we make, I’ll lose an item of clothing.” 

His eyebrows shot up at the proposition, an excited grin coming to his face as he nodded, the stubble on his chin rubbing against the fabric of your shirt. 

“God, you’re too easy,” you giggled, stepping away from him. “Alright, uh… venue. Indoor or outdoor?” 

“Ceremony outdoors, reception indoors? Best of both worlds? Springtime in New York is unpredictable.”

You nodded in agreement, kicking off your slippers. 

“Slippers are not clothes!” he argued.

“Ah – yes they are and I took both of them off when I could have only taken off one,” you retorted, giving him a knowing look as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Okay, okay,” he folded with a soft chuckle. “Next question.”

“Food. What are we thinking? Catering? Or something easy? I hear food trucks are what’s in these days.”

“Like… like the food trucks on every street corner out there?” he asked, nodding towards the window. 

You shrugged. “Dunno. I guess so.”

“Better not risk it. Catering’s safer. We can do…chicken?” 

“That sounds good.”

You hooked your fingers underneath the waistband of your sweatpants and pushed them to the floor, stepping out of them and kicking them behind you, leaving you in nothing but your underwear and tank top as you stood in front of Peter. 

“Oh, I’m liking making these decisions now,” he smirked, sitting up in his seat, his elbows on his thighs as he leaned forward and placed his chin in his palm, waiting for the next decision.

You rolled your eyes. “Cake flavor?”

“What were you thinking?”

“Chocolate chip with buttercream frosting.”

“That sounds delicious.”

You sighed contently, grateful that the two of you were getting somewhere with wedding planning after putting it off for months. Your fingertips teasingly danced along the hem of your tank before you pulled it off and tossed it behind you. 

“Jesus,” Peter groaned as you stood in front of him with nothing but your panties on. 

“Wedding colors?” you asked. It was one of the last things you needed to pick out. 

He shook his head as he stood up from his seat and stalked towards you, his tall frame making you feel small as he came closer. You placed your hand on his chest to stop him, the expression on your face stone cold as you met his eyes. “Colors,” you repeated sternly. “I’m thinking maybe like… a sage green? And white?”

“Yep, beautiful, sounds perfect,” he replied quickly, taking your hand and removing it from his chest before taking a step closer. 

“Peter! You don’t —”

You were interrupted with a quick kiss.

“— actually —”

Another.

“— care!”

One more peck before he pulled away and smiled down at you. 

“I don’t care much about anything when you look like this,” he said, his palms running down your naked sides. 

“Can you focus for like… one more minute? Please? I want your input!”

He looked at you, a hint of mischief in his brown eyes as he hooked his fingers underneath the waistline of your panties. “And then can I take these off?” 

You rolled your eyes, trying to cover up how incredibly turned on you were. “Yes, then you can take them off,” you sighed.

He smirked. “The green and white are good, but light pink goes really well with those, too.”

You paused to picture the colors in your head for a moment before nodding in agreement.

“You happy? Can I take these off now?” he asked, slightly tugging down on your underwear. 

“Yes,” you giggled softly. “You’re so impatient.”

“Yeah, well, can you blame me? Look at you,” he replied, swiftly pulling down the remaining item of clothing in one go, letting you step out of them before throwing them over his shoulder. “You’re gonna be my wife,” he said in awe, as he looked you up and down, shaking his head in disbelief.

You hid your face as you blushed – you didn’t think you ever would get used to the way he looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. You’d seen him watch the most breathtaking sunsets and stare at the most exquisite paintings for hours on end – nothing compared to his face when he looked at you. 

“Are you gonna take me to bed or what, Parker?” you asked, feigning impatience as your hands found their way to your hips. 

He snapped out of his trance, a smirk coming to his lips as he practically lunged at you, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder with ease. 

“Peter!” you squealed, wiggling in his grasp as he walked the few steps to the bedroom. 

He chuckled as he placed you onto the mattress and crawled on top of you, placing soft kisses up your collarbone and neck before pausing at your lips. 

“I love you,” he smiled, his mouth barely brushing against yours. 

“I love you, too,” you replied, returning his expression before taking on a more serious one. “Now quit playing around and fuck me.”

[hops-hunny]

Distance Makes the Heart Grow

CHAPTER 1

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: (Y/n) lives a normal life. But that’s the issue, it’s normal, it’s plain, and it’s growing boring. Everyday she wishes for something, anything to spice up her life. But, when her old school friend (and crush) shows up at her bakery with a new look (and what looks like a new life), what will it bring for her? Will their puppy love grow? Will his big secret lead to the end of them or will it spark a new beginning?

Warnings: None for this chapter!

A/N: Nothing major happens in this chapter, this is sorta just like the beginning stages.

(Y/n) let out a load groan, hand searching aimlessly for the alarm clock on her side table. “Where is it?!” she continued to slap her hand around on her table, many objects falling to the floor before her hand finally landed on the right one, the rooster noises ceasing as her hand collided with the big snooze button. She rolled over, sighing as she stared at her speckled ceiling. “Perhaps I really should take the time to learn how to use the alarm on my phone.” it wasn’t that she was bad with technology persay. It’s just if it was produced after the year of 2008 you could forget it. Could you really blame her though? During all her years at Hogwarts, she had never made the switch her fellow classmates made with modern technology. Sure she had a smart phone but the only thing she could manage to do with it is call, text, and make notes in the notes app (something she had just recently learned as well).

Unwillingly, she crawled out of bed, stretching as she let out a large yawn, bones snapping and cracking like a New Year’s firework. She made her way to the bathroom, looking into the same mirror she always did, watching the light in the center flicker the same way as always. Life for (Y/n) was seemingly unchanging. Day after day, month after month, was spent exactly the same. She’d wake up, get ready for work, and then travel a few blocks down the street to open the bakery. Her bakery.

It wasn’t that (Y/n) didn’t enjoy what she did. She happened to enjoy her job very much. All her friends at Hogwart’s had encouraged her, giving her the push she need to travel the journey of opening her own business. It was something she had always wanted to do but her parents begged her not to. In their words they didn’t want ‘an over zealous and unrealistic’ daughter on ther hands. However, their rude words simply were fuel to the fire. During her 5th year, she began to busk tables at various shops in Hogsmeade. It was hard work, balancing long shifts at 3 different shops and still maintaining decent scores in each class. But, she knew if she couldn’t handle that then there was no way she’d be able to handle running a bakery. So day in and day out she’d work, and work, and work and by the end of her 7th year she had a decent amount of money saved up! 

The first issue had been finding a place in a good area that would gain traction and attention while the second one was finding someone willing to sell to someone fresh out of school with no prior business experience. She’d spoken to many people in various different places, some good, and some bad before she finally had been blessed with the chance of meeting Mary and her wife Denise. It was a miracle really. (Y/n) was short on the money, exponentially so however, Mary had sold to her anyways. She said she saw a passion in the girl that she hadn’t seen for a very long time and that it was something she wanted to help foster considering she had had her time to live her dreams and explore passions of her own. So with that, a handshape was exchanged for a beat up envolope filled with the entirety of the girl’s life savings. She had invested every nickel and dime she had ever earned into the place and she prayed it wouldn’t blow up in her face.

Which brought her to where she was today: a proud owner of a highly successful business. And of course, with great business comes a nice chunk of money which caught her parents’ attention. They had began to call her everyday but when that they didn’t work, they showed up at her shop unannounced. At first, she had felt warm inside. Her usual cold and distant parents had come to visit her! However, when they started crunching out numbers and percentages, that short lived happiness was replaced by irritation in which she quickly kicked them out, placing a charm on the building that when they’d attempt to enter (if they really, truly, had the balls to come back), their bodies would be flung right back onto the sidewalk into the heaping piles of trash on the city side walks. Now, (Y/n) was by no means wealthy, but she made a nice amount of money to be engaging in something she enjoyed so heavily, which is why she was confused where they had gotten the idea she had money to share with the main two people who were the cause of her insecurities. Plus, every extra dollar she had she put right back into the shop. Paying her workers, building maintenance, ingredients. She wasn’t a fan of having too much money, her family had shown her what that could cause (and how easily you could lose it all). 

Yet still sometimes she found herself wishing she could live the lavish lifestyle her parents once did. She mainly dreamed more so of the more engaging parts instead of the status and power that came with it. As she frosted various different cakes with thick buttercream, her mind would wonder to vivid imagery of beautiful hotel rooms, with breath taking views. Michelin five star meals, coated in delicious cream sauces. Endless adventure waiting to be discovered.

And yet here she was, sitting at a table as she stuffed her face with a raspberry marzipan cupcake. It was a Wednesday, first one of the month and as per usual, her and Twyla were set together, sampling cakes, chocolates, and other treats for the upcoming days. Wednesday had been the official day  they had chosen due to the slowed flow of people that would come in. (Y/n) liked to have a different theme each day of the week. The customers lived for it and she had massed a group of frequenters who came each day, wondering what the theme would be that day.

“You know boss, I’ve gotta say it. Working here and sampling all these cakes with you is giving me quite the ass!” Twyla said, turning around as she wiggled her ass in the girl’s face for emphasis. (Y/n) giggled, rolling her eyes as she swatted at the girl, missing as she jumped away from her last minute. “Hey! You gotta take me out to dinner first for that.”

“Just because we’re sampling cakes doesn’t mean that the store is closed! Anyone could walk in at any moment and would you really want that to be their first experience here?” she asked, eyes scanning the silver platter in front of them. She decided on the new dessert flavored chocolates she had been working on. Popping it into her mouth, she let out a moan of approval.

“I mean, I dont’ see why not! We’d definitely make a lot more money with a cake like mine!” the blue haired girl said, sitting down as she grabbed a chocolate as well. “Besides, I don’t think those little noises you’re making would help the scene.” she stated, snickering as the girl across from her tensed up.

“It-it’s not like that! The chocolate- it just- I just- ugh!” she stuttered out, huffing as she crossed her arms over her chest, pouting at the girl. “If you’re gonna keep being mean we can end this process. Just tell me what you think of the blueberry pie chocolate so I can know if we’re adding it to tomorrow’s spread.”

“Oh come on (Y/n) it’s good! Every first Wednesday we sit here, you overly critique yourself, then me and Tiana end up picking out our favorites for the next day!” Twyla was right, even their patterns for trying new things remained the same. (Y/n) wiped her messy hand on her aprons, sighing as she stood up to go back to her position behind the counter. Her employee followed, grabbing the platter to put back into the kitchen before joining her boss behind the counter.

“You’re right. I swear everyday is beginning to feel the same.” She opened her notepad, beginning to take inventory of the sweets they had in the display counter. “I’m grateful for everything I have, I really am. But sometimes I just wish I could have something, anything….”

“New?” the green eyed girl added, catching the (h/c) haired girl’s attention. She nodded, looking at the girl who had snuck a cookie out of the glass case. “I feel ya, girl. Everyday feels the same. Sometimes even when new people come in, I can already tell how they’re going to be. How they’ll act, what they’ll order, what method of payment they’ll use.” (Y/n) eyed the girl up, raising a brow.

“Are you sure you’re not just using legilimens?” she questioned, watching as the girl shifted on her feet, scratching the back of her neck.

“Okay so maybe I do sometimes. But a lot of the times I don’t! Like the other day this weird guy came in and- woah. (Y/n) I don’t wanna freak you out but I have a feeling those hotties in suits across the street are going to be walking in here soon.” Twyla said, in an uncharacteristically quiet tone. The shorter girl followed her friend’s gaze, looking out the glass doors across the street. Three unfamiliar men were crossing over, all in suits that she could only assume cost as much as four months of rent. However, the one in the middle really caught her eye.

Before she knew it, the bell chimed and the three of them made their way in. They looked very out of place in the brightly decorated shop. The one in the middle looked the most important, towering over the other two men. He had dark slicked back hair, an eyebrow piercing, and tattoos that were visible on his neck and hands (which had a few beautiful looking rings on them (none of which were a wedding band…)), yet his hazel eyes held a soft look to them. To his left was a redhead boy, freckles danced all along his face. His eyes were bloodshot from god knows what. He had tattoos as well (not as many as the middle man) and a few unique ear piercings. The guy to the hot tall guy’s right was attractive too but not nearly as serious looking as the other two. In fact, he was humming a song under his breath, a smile causing the tattoo on the right side of his face to crease. 

As she went to open her mouth to greet them, the man in the middle eye’s grew wide, his mouth gaping as he stared at her. He walked closer, examining her face closely which caused her to grow confused.

“I’m...I’m sorry. Do I know you?” she asked.

“(Y/n)?” she gasped at the sound of the familiar voice, her notepad and pen dropping from her hands. She made her way around the counter, staring up at the tall man.

“Neville?!”

NEXT||

TAGSLIST: @vayeya11 @pink-hufflepuff @clancyscookies @beewitchedlou @nevillelongbottomsgirlfriend @redpanda-poetry @vibingaesthetically

[firaknight]

Kirby and Pskhdksjsk Flshskajkakak fighting over the last piece of choccy cake

Your wish is my command anon!!!

(The beginning section is playful banter. Neither are genuinely angry at each other and know the other is playing)

~~~{+}~~~

Two puffballs stand in the center of a small, one room house. In the hand of one, a delicious slice of rich chocolate cake, topped with crumbled graham crackers and smooth buttercream frosting. The slice is quite large, and two little round prints on either side seem to suggest it wasn’t originally in the paws of the puff now holding it.

A magical air seems to waft around the room, fresh and new. The magic sock that leads to Patchland, usually kept neatly folded with Kirbys other treasures, is active, the opening swirling with magical energy. The sock slowly drifts down to the ground, the energy inside dissipating as soon as it came. Standing near the doorway to the house is Kirby, holding the slice of cake. On the other side of the house is Prince Fluff, his body no longer made out of a thin strand of yarn.

Instead, Fluff appears to be almost identical to Kirby. His body is round and defined, no longer flat. Covering his body is a soft, fluffy fur, somewhat thicker and more noticeable than Kirbys. His body appears to be made of fabric, stitched together on the sides. His eyes, mouth, and eyebrows look to be made of felt, stitched onto his body, yet able to move freely in the same way a normal puffball could move. His crown looks to be made of velvet, stitches lining the sides. He almost looks like a plush given life, from his soft body to the slight sheen in his eyes. The two appear to be playfully arguing, with Kirby having the upper hand in the matter...

“Give it back! I found it first!”

“No way, poyo!!” Kirby held the cake above his head with one paw, fiercely pointing at Fluff with the other.

“Kirby, give it back! You stole it from me on the way out of Treat Land!” Fluff pointed at the cake, stepping forwards to grab it, only for Kirby to step back.

“Not a chance! It’s my cake now, poyo!” Kirby smirked, proudly puffing out his nonexistent chest.

“Give. it. BACK!!!!” Fluff sharply stepped forwards, reaching for the cake. Kirby quickly pushed himself onto his toes, giving himself a little extra height. A small giggle escaped him as Fluff stubbornly tried reaching for the cake.

“There’s no way you’ll be able to reach it now, poyo! I’m too tall!” He giggled, holding the cake a little higher as Fluff reached for it again.

“You’ve got a half inch more than me!!! You’re no taller than Meta Knight!” Fluff stretched his paw to try and grasp the cake, only to miss again. He pouted, lowered his stance, and lunged forward.

“Give it!!!”

“EEP-!”

Both froze, the cake within reach of Fluffs grasp. Fluff stifled a chuckle, looking at Kirbys now maxim tomato red face.

“What in the world was that?”

“N-nothing, poyo! You, uh, j-just caught me b-b-by surprise! That’s all, poyo!” Kirby glanced up at the cake, which was still in his grasp, then back at Fluff, who wasn’t buying the excuse.

“Yeah, right, gimme!!” Fluff repeated the same lunge as before, another uncharacteristicly high squeak escaping his datemate, but Kirby responded slightly differently this time. With his free hand, Kirby had playfully shoved Fluffs other hand down, the one that wasn’t reaching for the cake.

“Hmm?” Fluff paused, glancing down towards Kirbys free hand. His paw would’ve been higher up Kirbys side, considering the position of his lunge, and yet now it was pushed back.

“F-Fluff?” Kirbys princely datemate slowly looked at him, an eyebrow raised. Fluff inched forwards, maintaining his position, and earned a stifled giggle from the pink puff. It took him a moment to realize the circumstances, and once he did, a playfully evil grin crossed his face.

“...Is that so?” The pink puff felt all color drain from his face. He knew exactly what was coming. Hastily taking a step back, Kirby grasped the cake with both paws, ready to make a run for it.

“F-Fluff, don’t you dare, poyo!” Fluff chuckled at the response, rearing up to pounce. Kirby backed up, only for Fluff to take a step forward. Another step back, another forward.

“Kirby...” Fluff smirked, both paws ready to strike. Kirby took one final step back, watching as Fluff took one final step forward.

“EN GARDE!!!”

Fluff pounced. Kirby desperately tried to make a break for it, but he didn’t get very far before the prince had tackled him. Kirby clutched the cake, leaving another set of prints in it as he caught it, relieved it hadn’t hit the floor. He quickly realized he was pinned beneath his datemate, and another realization hit him.

“I’m getting my cake back, even if it means I have to tickle it out of your paws!”

“Fluff, w-wait-EEK!!!” Fluff carefully dug his paws into Kirbys sides, quickly reducing the puff to bubbly laughter. Now he had the upper hand.

“Fluff nohohohohooo!!! C-cut it ouuutt!!!!” Fluff doubled down on his attacks, watching as Kirby erupted into incoherent giggles.

“Give back the cake and I’ll stop!”

“Poyooohohohohohooo!!!!”

“What was that? I didn’t quite hear you! Could you maybe repeat that for me, pinky?” Kirby buried his face in the carpet, muffling his giggles. He kicked and squirmed in hopes that maybe he could knock Fluff off and get a word or two out, but to no avail.

“If I give you a breather, will you let me have that cake?” Kirby nodded without a second thought. Fluff lifted his paws up, keeping them above his head in surrender. He felt Kirby let out a huge sigh of relief, his puffy body flattening out a little in the process.

“H-hold on... w-what if... I made a deal with you...” Fluff raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“And what sort of deal would that be?”

“A... cake deal...” Kirby took another moment to breathe, glancing up at Fluff, who looked quite interested.

“Alright, lay out your terms and we’ll negotiate.” Kirby nodded, carefully lifting a paw to signal he needed another moment.

While Kirby wasn’t the best negotiator, nowhere near as good as Fluff, he knew that Fluff had an easily exploitable weakness: sweets. Offer him something like cake or candy and he’ll go from being stubborn in his ways to retracting his statements in an attempt to get whatever was being offered. Both wanted that slice of cake, and Kirby thought of a possible way both could have it.

“How about... we share the cake...” Fluff looked away, considering the option.

“Wouldn’t the slice be awfully small? It may be big, but surely there’s no way both of us could get a satisfying amount from just that little piece.” Kirby could hear the hesitation in Fluffs voice. He was being stubborn again, even with the offer of sweets.

“Ok then... how about... I... sweeten... the deal...” Kirby took a deep breath, pointing to a small jar of candy he’d snagged from Meta Knight sitting on his nightstand.

“We... split the cake... and I give you... a piece of MK’s candy...” Fluff sat silent, weighing his options.

“C’mon, this is too good of an offer for even Fluff to pass up!” Kirby thought to himself. He heard Fluff let out a small huff, pushing himself off of Kirby.

“Alright, I’ll accept. Consider it a deal.” He offered a paw to shake on it. Kirby carefully pushed himself to his feet, taking Fluffs paw and shaking it gently. Fluff was about to pull away when Kirby tightened his grip and pulled Fluff in, planting a kiss on his cheek. Almost immediately the princes face flushed red and he buried his face in his paws. Kirby let out a giggle, nuzzling Fluff as the prince let out a muffled embarrassed groan.

“I love you so much, Kirby.”

“I love you too, Fluff.”

[ningningsplushie]

The Cute Barista

Pairing: Jimin x reader

Word count: 2263

Genre: Pastel cafe?? Jimin being a comforting person :3

Summary: Your favourite barista has moved away and in her place is the ever charming Park Jimin. Can he comfort you just the same?

Warnings: Cringey pick up line (rip but it fit well with the story), stressed and upset reader

After a long day, a trip to the cafe was exactly what she needed. Classes were kicking her ass, what with essays, assignments, and presentations piling up on the daily, not to mention her trying to keep up with work and her own personal life. A calming sit-down, with a nice book, along with her favourite barista, Hwa Young, would surely cheer her up. 

Opening the door to the cafe, the smell of brownies and buttercream frosting immediately wafts up her nose. The overall atmosphere of the place, with its pastel pinks walls and baby blue trimming, its bubbly aura due to the dainty display of desserts, large windows, and sweet jazz music instantly calms Y/N after a hectic day. 

Walking up to the cash register, she realizes that Hwa Young isn’t at her usual station, neither is she wiping down the tables or serving customers. 

She spots a blond boy standing in place of her favourite barista and decides to ask for her whereabouts. “Excuse me, I was wondering where Hwa Young was?”

The boy looks up from the till and gives her a warming grin, cheeks almost covering his eyes. My, he’s really handsome. Handsome, however, was an understatement. His face had an innocent, boyish charm to it, with large, honest eyes, plump lips with a subtle cupid’s bow, and a soft jaw. 

“I suppose you’re in the dark about her.” Hearing this, Y/N grows worried and the boy sees this. “Oh don’t worry,” he scrambles, panicking for frightening her, “she just moved to Japan for university. She left just last week.” 

She left? Crestfallen, Y/N looks to the ground. Damn, I was really looking forward to seeing her. “Really? It’s just...she has a really comforting aura and it was something I needed right now. I suppose I won’t be getting that ever again, if not ever again.” 

Y/N realizes her mistake of oversharing and clasps a hand over her mouth with wide eyes. “Oh god, I’m so sorry. The last thing you need right now is for a stranger telling you her problem.” 

The new barista chuckles, “It’s alright, my sister was a big help to a lot of people so I understand.”

“Yeah, she- wait. Sister? She was your sister?” Y/N squeaks out.

“Is, not was. She’s still here with us, just far away. But yeah, after she left I decided to take her place here to help our mom run the cafe.” 

“That’s sweet of you…” finding no reason to stay any longer she decides to leave, picking up her wallet from the counter. “Anyways, I’ve got to go, but uhhh, thank you for telling me about your sister. Have a nice day-” she reads the boy’s name tag. “Jimin. I’ll be going now.”

Just as she’s about to turn, Y/N feels a grip on her wrist, disabling her from leaving. Jimin looks at his hold on Y/N and quickly lets go. 

“Listen, I know you’re not exactly in the best of moods right now and I know I’m not my sister but please, stay and give yourself a rest.”

She considers his comment for a moment before turning back to him and offering a tight-lipped smile. 

“Alright. I’ll have a medium honey latte, please,” she says, offering Jimin money for her order. 

Taking the money from her, he gives a mock salute, chest puffing out. “Coming right up, Miss.” 

Y/N can’t help but giggle at his gesture, hands going up to cover her smile.

“Yeahhhh! That’s what we like to hear. My goodness, if I knew your smile was this bright, I never would have bothered to change the light bulbs in the chandeliers.” Jimin puts his arms out as if protecting himself from a bright flash and at this, Y/N laughs some more. Giving the barista some more material, he pretends to swoon, resting the back of his on his forehead. “Wow, wow, wow. I might as well just shut off our radio too. Your laugh sounds much nicer.”

Y/N blushes, earning a “cute,” from Jimin but then composes herself. “Call me Y/N, please.”

Nodding, he begins tinkering with the espresso machine. “Y/N, I might not be as comforting as my sister but I’m certainly more charming and cuter than her, aren’t I?” throwing a wink to the girl. 

Y/N rolls her eyes and replies, “You guys share half of the same DNA.”

“That’s true but my DNA gave me the upper hand in looks.” Y/N couldn’t deny that. She couldn’t stop staring at his lips, how they formed when he smiles, or the position they were in whenever he pouted whilst concentrating. 

“Alright, one medium honey latte for Y/N,” he whoops, placing the porcelain cup before her. 

“Thank you so much.” Taking a sip from her drink, she closes her eyes in pure bliss, the warmth of the latte spreading throughout her body. 

“How is it? Is it too sweet? I think I might have put too much sweetener in it so-”

“It’s perfect,” Y/N sighs, opening her eyes once more. 

He gives a proud smile and pats his head. “Good, I’m glad. I’ll leave you alone now, let you decompress for a while.”

“Thank you for everything… for being so patient and kind. I appreciate it,” Y/N says, gazing out the window. 

“A little kindness never anybody. I just hope I made your day somewhat better.”

“You definitely did.”

 And with that, Jimin leaves the girl alone, moving on to his own barista duties of washing the dishes, clearing tables, and taking the orders of a few people who wanted a kick of caffeine. It was close to the evening which meant that the cafe was nearly empty, something Y/N found most agreeable as it allowed her to enjoy the soft music playing through the speakers while enjoying her recent read. For about thirty minutes or so, Y/N was enjoying her novel whilst sipping occasionally on her latte, and at that moment, she was finally at peace. Here, she was able to temporarily forget about school, work, and her general stresses in life. All that mattered was her tranquility, the porcelain cup sitting ahead of her, and the cast of characters splayed out in her book. Y/N realizes that her brow had loosened, curing her blistering headache ever since she stepped foot into the shop, especially since she talked to Jimin. 

Leaving all her worries aside, Y/N gazes out the window and ponders. Everything is so beautiful right now, what with the snow gently falling and families walking hand in hand, she thought. It’s a shame I can’t fully enjoy life with all my stress plaguing my thoughts. I should just enjoy it while it lasts. 

It didn’t last long, that is, only because Jimin came over with a fresh piece of what appeared to be strawberry shortcake. He places the plate in front of Y/N and leaves with a simple, “Bon appetit.”

“Hey wait! I didn’t order this.” she rushes to her feet to return the cake. 

Jimin comes back, pushing Y/N by her shoulders so she’d sit back down. “I know you didn’t. But you can’t drink something on an empty stomach,” he urges, nudging the cake towards her and turning back around once again. 

With her mouth shaped into an O’, she reaches for her wallet to pay for the dessert but before she can do so, Jimin, with his back towards Y/N, protests, “don’t even think of paying for the cake. It’s on the house.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly eat this without paying. Besides, won’t you get in trouble?” 

“You can, and you will,” he affirms, now facing Y/N, slinging the rag over his shoulder, adding with, “plus, what’s the worst my mom can do? Not feed me Jjajangmyeon for two weeks? I can survive.”

Warily, Y/N begins to stab the fork into the cake before venturing with a meek, “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive,” he declares, giving her a warm smile that makes her want to eat the cake all the more, wanting to see his smile once more. “Also, I uhhhh,” Jimin stammers, “I wanted to give it to you cuz uhhh...it m-matches your sweater vest,” he declares, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment from his statement. 

Confused, Y/N looks down at herself. As per usual, she was in a rush to attend her first lecture of the day and just threw on the first thing her eyes met, which was a pink, strawberry printed sweater vest over a white button-up. Wait. He just gave me a slice of cake because it matched my vest. How much cuter can this guy get? With a blush creeping up her face, she shoved a piece of the cake in her mouth, and in an instant, her tense shoulders dropped, like a weight lifted off of them. The sweetness and acidity of the strawberries coated her tongue but was soon covered by the velvety taste of the buttercream frosting. 

“Wow Jimin, this is...absolutely delicious.” 

He hums, “I’m glad you think so. I’ll be sure to tell my mom.” 

“Yeah, you def- wait. Your mom?” Y/N interjects, mouth full of cake.

Jimin takes a napkin from the dispenser and wipes the frosting from the corner of her mouth and asks, “Did you really think I was the one who made the cake? You overestimate me, my dear friend,” he leans in closer to Y/N, lips frighteningly close to her ear and whispers, “I appreciate the sentiment though.” He pulls back and winks at her, hair falling over his eyes. “I just thought it befitting to feed you something as sweet as yourself.” 

Shocked at his boldness, Y/N goes back to eating her cake, not quite sure how to respond to him, especially since she was turning redder and redder by the second and it feels like her tongue had been swallowed. 

“Cute,” Jimin chuckles, going back to washing the dishes. 

By the time Y/N finished eating, the sun had set and it was closing time, leaving only Jimin and Y/N to be the only two in the shop. She looked at the time and her eyes nearly bulged out of her head. “Oh god, I’ve got to get going. I’ve got to wake up early tomorrow.” 

Y/N scrambles to gather her items in her bag, her book, her phone, her wallet and is about to zoom out the door before she hears Jimin calling her name. 

“Y/N hold up! You forgot something.” Bewildered, lets go of her hold on the door handle, and looks to the boy. 

“Come here,” he beckons for Y/N to come closer. 

Walking closer to the counter, Y/N has her hand reached out for him to place whatever it is she left behind. Jimin, placing something unbelievably small in her palm, smiles bright, cheeks overcoming his eyes. She looks down and sees a single Hershey’s chocolate kiss. Y/N looks back to Jimin for an explanation and what he says next throws her off completely.

“Hershey factories make millions of kisses a day, but I’m asking for only one...perhaps after our first date?” 

Y/N is silent for a few beats as she registers his cheesy pickup line. Jimin, panicking, quickly regrets his words and goes to take back the kiss but is stopped when Y/N doubles over, shoulders shaking. 

Concerned, the barista walks around the counter and puts his arms around Y/N, scared that he triggered what he thought were waterworks. “Y/N...I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you!” But then he hears laughter, belly-aching laughter, one that Jimin wants to hear all the time. 

For a good minute, Y/N is hunched over, cackling while Jimin lets out small giggles but then ceases her laughter, wiping her tears away, and looks towards Jimin. “Wow, thank you for making me laugh like that. I haven’t done that for so long.”

Jimin frowns, “I’m happy I made you laugh but are you laughing at me or with me?”

“With you, I’d never laugh at you, especially since you made me feel so much better today,” Y/N replies. 

“Oh thank God,” he lets out a deep sigh of relief. “So about that date...would you like to go out with me? I know it’s weird since we just met today but I heard a lot about you from Hwa Young and-and I always wanted to see what you were like. Our paths crossed and I didn’t want to give this moment up.”

Y/N considered how much of an impact he had on her in just one day and thought what it would be like being with him every day. She knew she’d feel tremendously better. As of now, she’s felt more comfortable than she had for a long while. Being around him reminded her of all the beautiful things she’s failed to notice and allowed her to feel like herself once more. If being around him felt like this, she never wanted it to end. His presence comforted Y/N and made her feel right at home. She definitely wasn’t going to turn him down. 

“I’d love nothing more than to go out with you. But you better not break that promise of a kiss.”

Brushing a small strand of hair behind Y/N’s ear, he replies with, “Oh, I promise.”

[lazychickensoup]

𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝐹𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟.

𝑂𝑖𝑘𝑎𝑤𝑎 𝑇𝑜̄𝑟𝑢 𝑥 𝑓𝑒𝑚!𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑢𝑎𝑔𝑒, 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑, 𝑔𝑢𝑛 𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒, 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ, 𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡.

“Y/n….Y/n?” My head shoots up in response to the voice.

“Yes sorry. What did you say?” I bring my head back down to not make eye contact.

“Y/n it’s been a year since the accident. You haven’t improved much. How about for today we do a vent. Just...let it all out I won’t suggest anything medical, I promise I’m listening though.”

‘Just vent? Does she think it’s that easy? We have been meeting every Thursday for a year now and nothings changed.’

“Fine, how I really feel huh? I want to get over this. I want to move on but I just...can’t. That stupid bastard left me. Alone. He couldn’t fight for just a while longer. He’s selfish. I will never forgive him for leaving like that.” Hot tears streaming down my face as I sob into his jacket sleeve.

How could he?

~One year ago~

“Tooru! Put me down!” I let out a loud laugh grabbing the whole team’s attention. We had just won the match against Karasuno in the Interhigh Qualifiers. We had done it. We made it to nationals. The whole team was out celebrating this wonderful victory, and my boyfriend was being especially clingy tonight. “What’s gotten into you? You haven’t let go of me since we left the tournament.” he looks down at me with adoring eyes his smile bigger than ever.

“It’s because of you that I had the will to keep pushing during the tournament y/n. You are everything to me. Having you up there in the stands screaming my name gives me a huge boost because that lets me know that my #1 is there with me the whole time. You’re my lucky charm. My love. My everything. You have been by my side this whole time. You’ve dealt with all of my lash outs, my breakdowns, my endless nights of practicing. It’s always you. I swear Y/n I would give my life yours in a heartbeat. I love you. Forever.” I’m left speechless as he pulls me into his chest. I wrap my arms around him holding him tight not wanting to end this moment. I release him from my grip and slid my hands to his face. Staring into his chocolate eyes I place my lips on his, pulling away placing our foreheads together.

“I love you Tooru. Forever.” I whisper to him. We take a seat with the rest of the guys and conversate with each other. The night air was filled with joy, friendship, love. Overall, it is one of the most perfect nights of your life.

“Bye Iwa-chan! See you Tuesday!” Oikawa called out to his bestfriend. He waved in response and started his walk back home. After paying our check Oikawa places his hand in mine and starts swaying it back and forth. The night was beautiful, string lights above us on the streets, little traffic so we feel a light breeze every time a car passes us on the road. The air wasn’t too cold but cool enough to have to wear a jacket and to Tooru, it was cold enough to walk like we are conjoined by the waist. He talks and talks and talks, and I listen. I haven’t seen him like this in a long time, he’s so happy. With all that was going on, he was so stressed, not sleeping, over-exerting himself. There were many nights that I thought we were close to ending it, but we stuck through it. I look up to him admiring all his features. His messy soft brown hair, his perfect skin, everything was perfect. Nothing could ruin this night.

“Y/n-chan wait right here.” he held my shoulders to keep me in place. I looked at him confused. He ran into a bakery we were walking past. I sat there for about 10 minutes starting to get scared. Even though it was a beautiful night, it was still night, my paranoia gets the best of me and I walk into the bakery.

“Tooru? Hey, where did you go.” I call out there was no response. The shop smelled of buttercream and f/cake flavor, settling my senses a bit. I sit at a booth and wait patiently a little longer. After a couple more minutes of waiting, Tooru came out holding three boxes. Two the same cubical shape and another smaller rectangular box. He looks out the window and panic came over his face when he realized I wasn’t there. I stand up and grab his attention, he lets out and relieved exhale.

“Come with me princess, there’s one more place we need to go.” I nod and link to his arm. We walked a couple more streets to a park. ‘Oh, my Tooru what do you have planed.’ “Do you recognize this park?” we sit at a certain bench that had a tree shading over it. On the tree was carved ‘O + F/I’.

“Of course I do. It’s the park where we first met.” I sit on the bench and trace my hand over the carved letters. Tooru sits next to me wrapping his arm around my waist. “How could I ever forget when you broke my nose with a stray volleyball?” He opens his mouth in offense then pouts.

“How many times am I going to have to apologize for that. If stupid Iwa-chan didn’t receive it weird I wouldn’t have hit it like that.”

“True but that also means you would have never met me. And that would be a travesty wouldn’t it?”

“Well yes, my love it would be. Although even before that happened you had caught my eye. I was planning to come over to you after the game but was too nervous. That stray volleyball gave me a reason.” I looked at him in fake shock.

“What? The great flirt Tooru Oikawa was too nervous to talk to a girl. No way.” We laugh he looks back at me lovingly while I’m still trying to calm down from my “hilarious” joke.

“Yes, yes it’s true. I was so stunned by your beauty. You just sitting here under this tree reading away. Even then I knew that you are perfect.” he kisses my forehead and pulls out the boxes from before. He hands me one of the cubed ones. I open it to see a f/flavor cupcake. I turn to him and smile big.

“Thank you Tooru. I love these.” I take the cupcake out of the box and start to unwrap and eat it. He interrupts my consumption of the treat with his hand wiping off some frosting from my mouth. Embarrassed I take a napkin and wipe my face. He still holding my face looking lovingly at me. I stare right back at him melting into his chocolate brown eyes. His thumb runs over my bottom lip. My eyes dart from his to his lips back and forth. Inching closer and closer till I finally give in and push my face on his. This kiss wasn’t like a quick ‘I love you’ kiss, nor was it a rough and passionate ‘I love you’ kiss. This was soft and slow. His lips melting and molding perfectly to mine. His tongue pushing for entrance and I let him. He pushes me a little and I lay down on the bench with him hovering above me. My hands travel from his neck up into his soft locks. I tug lightly earning a low moan making my heart flutter. We finally pull away, my lungs flood with air once again. He helps me back up and lays me on his chest.

“I see I still leave you breathless my love. I guess it’s even then.” he chuckles readjusting his glasses.

“Even? How?” I question diving back into my delicious treat.

“Simple. You leave me breathless every time I see you. You are that stunning.”

“Oh my god, Tooru shut up.”

“What it’s true! I don’t know how I’m still alive when someone as beautiful as you are my partner.” he pouts. I finish my cupcake and throw the garbage away in a nearby trash bin. When I walk back to my seat I see the small rectangular box from before. Tooru sits there looking like a mother on Christmas when you are about to open a present.

“Whats this baby?” you pick up the box inspecting the outside of it.

“Well, I got it for you about a week ago when I had that huge mental breakdown and you stayed with me. I was so sure that we were going to fail the tournament and I just couldn’t hold myself together. Then, you came over and helped me all through it just by being there you made my day better. When you told me to lay down on you and just tell you what’s wrong I started going on about all the things that I hate about myself. I went on and on, yet you didn’t object once. You didn’t stop me and tell me that I was wrong. You listened. That’s all I needed then. That’s also when I realized that I was so deeply in love with you. Hell Y/n I don’t know what I would do without you. I honestly would be lost. I know I say it all the time but I got this for when I can’t say it okay?” he motions for me to open the box I feel tears run down my face. I don’t deserve someone like Oikawa. When I open the box I audibly gasp. Inside was a necklace that had ‘I love you. Forever.’ engraved in it. I look back at him to see that he was in tears as well. “I love you y/n. Forever. That will never change.” I jump into his arm and hug him tightly. We stayed like that for a while just holding each other. ‘I never want this night to end.’

My phone buzzes I check it to see my alarm going off telling me I have 10 minutes to curfew. Tooru puts the necklace on me and we head back to my house.

The streets were scarce. Maybe a person or two every now and then but other than that it was just us two in the cool night’s breeze. We pass a bar on our last block and out stumbles a very very drunk man. Oikawa holds my hand tighter to assure me that everything was fine. All we had to was pass him and go on with our night. The man looks directly at me and gives a lazy smirk. He starts to drag us towards us. Oikawa’s arm slings around my shoulder and pulls me closer to him. I look up at him to see that the lighthearted smile was now gone. His face was very dull and serious. His eyes squinted at the man in front of us.

“Hey there pretty mama.” the man’s words were terribly slurred. ‘How much did they let him drink? I don’t like this.’ I hold on to Oikawa and we keep walking straight. The man sadly didn’t give up when we didn’t respond. “Helloooo. I-I say heyy, pretty mama.” We ignore him once more but I hear his footsteps trailing behind us. We tried losing him by taking a bunch of extra turns so that he wouldn’t end up following us home. At some point, we hadn’t noticed he got closer and I feel a hand on my ass. I jump and look back at him.

“What the hell! Leave me alone. Can’t you see I’m with someone?” I scream at him hoping to get someone’s attention from the houses around us.

“I don’t care. Someone as beautiful as you shouldn’t be going out with a dump like him. Come with me and I’ll give you what you deserve hehe.” He places his hand on my shoulder and Oikawa gives him a blow straight to the face. The man falls to the ground and spits out blood. I run behind Oikawa and grab on to his jacket.

“It’s an okay princess. I promise I’ll protect you till my last breath,” he whispers down to me. He looks back at the man. “Now I don’t know if you have a hearing problem mister but like my lovely girlfriend said. She’s with me. So please leave before things have to get messy.” I pull out my phone and have the police on the dial in case things get too serious. The man sloppily gets back up and reaches into his pocket. I get up next to Oikawa to see what he was grabbing. Out he pulls is a gun.

My heart drops.

‘No way this is happening right now. Why. Why. Why.’

“Ethier the pretty little lady is coming with me or someone is gonna have a bad night.” Oikawa put his hand in front of me. Even though his face isn’t showing he is terrified right now. Tears start forming in my eyes once again except these are most definitely not happy ones.

“Stop it! Please stop! I’ll come with you.” I yell holding my lover’s arms. I let him go and start walking towards him. Oikawa grabs me.

“Y/n what are you doing? No! I just told you I can’t lose you. I’m not losing you…” Oikawa let out a loud sob as he buries his face in my neck. I push him off and smile sadly at him.

“It’s okay my love. I have to protect you too.” I walk over to the guy slowly. Standing next to him I reach in my purse and pull out a pocket knife and pepper spray. I quickly stab the man in the stomach and pepper spray him.

“AGH you little bitch! Oh, you’re gonna get it now.” He takes my arm and throws me to the ground. Holding the gun at me.

He shoots.

‘He shot. I don’t feel anything. What happened.’

I open my eyes and Oikawa is in front of me holding his right shoulder.

‘No. no. no. no.’

Before I could react the man shoots again. “Damn kids. I gotta get out of here.” I open my eyes once more from the loud noise to blood trickling down onto my body. I followed burgundy liquids trail of origin to Tooru’s stomach. I panic and lean him up against the wall.

“No. no. no. no. Tooru stay with me please.” He lifts his head blood coming out of his mouth and nose. I shakily grab my phone and press the dial button.

“110 what is your emergency.”

“Help! Please! My boyfriend has been shot we are on street TA8. Please hurry he’s bleeding a lot.”

“Alright ma’am paramedics are on the way is the victim still conscious?”

“Yes he is but he doesn’t think that’s gonna last long.”

“Alright, where was the victim shot?”

“Uh, t-the right shoulder and his stomach.” As I answer Oikawa starts coughing up blood. I drop the phone and hold his face, his blood covered my hands.

“My love. It’s gonna okay I promise princess.” his smile was weak. He places his hand on mine looking at me the best he could.

“Right. Right, Okay yeah you’re gonna be fine. Please just stay with me Tooru. I can’t lose you either. So don’t leave me.” I move him to my lap and rip up my jacket to cover his wounds till the EMT’s got there.

“And here I thought this was gonna be the most perfect night. Aha, at least I got the two things I wanted most out of today.” His hand tucked some loose hair behind my ear. “Hey, tell Iwa-chan that I guess he won our game streak. 22-21. So close.” he chuckles low continuing to cough out blood.

“This is not the time to be making jokes Oikawa! Stop acting like you aren’t gonna make it.” the sirens blaring noise and lights show against the houses. “See they are almost here Tooru. So don’t you give up yet. I’ll hate you. Forever.” I sob so loudly. I don’t care who sees me right now I just want him to stay.

With his hand still resting on my face and his lid half-open. He says “Hey remember when I told you I would give my life for you? Yeah.... I love you y/n. Forever. Even after death.” his hand falls limp back onto his chest and he lets out his last breath.

I scream out. This is not what was supposed to happen. It should have been me. I shouldn’t have stabbed that guy. It should have been me. Once the EMTs got there they had to pull me away. They lay a sheet over his lifeless body. Iwazumi had come from his house around the corner to see what was going on. When he saw me on the ground going insane and the body being placed in the ambulance he put two and two together. He ran to my side immediately. I jumped at his touch but once I saw who it was I collapsed against his body soaking his shirt with my tear. I hear his sniffles as he holds me closer.

2 weeks later…

Me and Iwa stand side by side above that patch of grass that will cover my lover forever.

“I miss him Iwa. I need him back.” I grab my dress tighter. He pulls me in and I wrap my arms around him.

“I miss him too y/n. We can’t change what happened though.”

“It should have been me.” I sob into his chest. He pulls me back and makes me look him in the face.

“No y/n don’t say that. There was nothing you could do. That idiot who shot him. That’s who it should have been.” The man who had shot Tooru had been identified and caught thankfully we had that little bit of justice. I turn back to the grave decorated with flowers and cards. I touch the cold piece of metal around my neck remembering what he had said when he gave it to me. I bend down and whisper to the tomb.

“I love you Tooru Oikawa. Forever.”

With that, I walk over to Iwazumi he tells me he will meet me in the car.

Iwa walks over to the tomb and sits on the ground next to it. He sits in silence for a few moments before he slams his fist on the ground.

“Dammit shittykawa.” he whimpers. He’s been trying to hold in his tears this whole time. Trying to be strong for you. “You’re such an idiot. I’m sure there was a way that both of you could still be here, but no, you had to be the hero. Like, always the center of attention. You know she is going to crumble without you. I... I’m gonna crumble without you. So you better be watching us at nationals next month from hell. We both know you are there aha.” He stands up and wipes his tears. “I promise to you Tooru. I’ll keep her safe.” he walks back to you waiting in the car. Once he gets in the driver’s seat he takes your hand and looks at you with the most sincere face.

“We are winning nationals. For Oikawa.”

“For my love.”

A/n: AHH I really hope you enjoyed this (no offence but i hope you cryed as well lol)

If you have any request or suggestions please send them in. I love that i’m getting back into writing. :)

Thank you to @shotosgaychangemymind for reading it and reviewing it with me. I am so greatful <3

tags: @tsukkiskitten @bictoeia

[valhallanrose]

Dancing Queen

A reflection on past birthdays and a glimpse at the present. 

Happy birthday to my firstborn.

2.3k. Cautionary CW for discussions of food. 

Fic title: Dancing Queen by ABBA.

The first birthday that Zelda remembered actually wasn’t her own, but Tamryn’s. It was his twelfth, though only the third time he’d actually celebrated on February twenty-ninth and not on March first. She was four then, giggling madly as she smashed a piece of the cake into his face - a tradition in Nevivon and something their parents had encouraged - and licking buttercream frosting off her fingers until Galen lifted her up to the kitchen sink to actually wash her hands. 

Tamryn got her back two months later, on her fifth birthday, though he was far more gentle than she had been about it. Maybe it was because she’d been completely zoned out chewing on one of the sugar flowers that had adorned her cake, but she distinctly remembered assessing the mouth feel of one of them before a hand on the back of her head tipped her face straight into the slice of cake Evalina had just set in front of her. 

Birthdays were typically small affairs in the Olenev household. It was time to simply be together, take joy in another year spent living life to the fullest and with each other. The only exception Zelda could think of was her bat mitzvah, all those years ago, and Tamryn’s own bar mitzvah, though she certainly remembered her own better than his. 

They always got to pick a special breakfast a few days before the actual birthday. Zelda chose the same thing every year without fail: chocolate-stuffed syrniki and strawberries. There was never another time of year that particular combination was eaten, only on her birthday, which made it feel all the more special to her no matter how old she got. 

Some birthdays had been...less than happy. Her sixteenth, the first birthday alone, the wound of her father’s death still raw on her heart. Or her twenty-fifth, which she had entirely forgotten until the following week, elbows deep in work at the Lazaret. Not that she’d celebrated at all during the plague, it never felt like a worthwhile occasion. 

She remembered on her twenty-sixth birthday, the first she acknowledged after the end of the plague, wishing quietly that there’d be no more sad birthdays. She wanted those happy times back - those happy times of just being five years old in Nevivon and feeling sugar flowers melt on her tongue and getting her face shoved into a birthday cake just when she thought it was safe.

And then Tamryn had found her later that year. 

Twenty-six had been a new beginning for them both. Twenty-seven had been the first birthday of hers they celebrated together since she was fifteen - a little awkward at first, but they found their way, finding a cute little restaurant on the waterfront and Zelda nearly punching Tamryn over the set of diaries he’d found in an antique shop that had belong to an apothecary long before.

For her twenty-eighth, Tamryn had given her an experience - a theater company from Prakra had made a temporary stop in Vesuvia to host a performance of The Tempest for the Countess on their way to Venterre, borrowing the theater in the Heart District closest to the palace. The short period they were in town fell over her birthday, and Tamryn had not only gotten her tickets, but got them tickets for one of the private boxes rather than the general audience. It had been a delight, and an experience she treasured dearly. 

She’d asked Tam once, a few weeks after that birthday, why he did so much for her (not that she was ungrateful) - and he’d simply smiled, kissing her forehead and telling her that he had ten years of birthdays he wanted to make up for. She’d assured him he didn’t need to do that, but he waved her off, pointing out that he was an adult and that if he wanted to do nice things for his family, he would. 

The twenty-second of April came again, this time her twenty-ninth birthday, and Zelda stirred when the mid morning sunlight beamed across her face and warmed her skin. A heavy weight pressed against her back as she began to roll over, making her snort as she assessed the limited amount of space between her and the other side of the bed. 

“Bed hog.” 

Oberon lifted his head, some of her hair threaded between his antlers, and gave her an incredulous look that made her laugh. 

“Yes, you, a bed hog. Brat. Come here, give me your head.” She shifted enough to sit up, carefully brushing her hair away from where it had tangled with the new growths forming, each only a few inches tall by then. “How are your nubbins doing?”

Do not call them my nubbins. 

“Fine, oh mighty forest prince, how doth your crown fare -” Zelda laughed as Oberon shoved his face into her chest indignantly, the stag sighing dramatically before he laid his head in her lap. She carefully inspected the velvet, idly scratching behind his ears all the while as he patiently waited for her assessment. “They do look good, Obie. You had a beautiful eight point set last year, I’ll bet on the same or more this year.”

She’d kept his last shed, actually. They were currently mounted on the wall in her shop, those pretty eight points acting as hooks for the herbs and plants she was in the process of drying out. 

Zelda smiled as she began to scratch around the base of one of his antlers, his hind leg thumping against the mattress and his head pushing into her hand as he snuffled contentedly. There were a few long beats of quiet before his voice filtered through her mind again and drew her eyes down to his, all big and brown and soulful. 

Zelda?

“Yeah?”

Happy birthday.

She beamed at that, lifting his head in both hands and pressing kisses to his fuzzy cheek, even when he complained about ‘smelling her morning breath’ but made no move to get away.

“Thank you, Obie. What do you say to breakfast?” Zelda glanced out the window, smiling at the cloudless blue sky and the bright golden sun. “Tam spent the night last night. I’m thinking me, you, him, and Magnus out in the back garden after I whip something up.”

Oberon nodded slightly, shifting to drag himself out of her bed - quite literally, as he put his front hooves on the floor and shuffled forward until his hind legs hit the hardwood. Zelda shook her head at him and flipped back the covers, combing her fingers through her hair and shoving her feet in her slippers before she made her way down the hall to the kitchen.

She knew she’d slept in, but she was surprised to see Tamryn already awake, standing at the stove with Magnus perched on his shoulder and preening his bedhead. 

“You, not waiting to mooch off my breakfast? Hell must have frozen over.” Zelda teased, and Tamryn rolled his eyes, tipping his head back and giving her a cheeky grin. 

“I could say the same thing about you sleeping in.”

“It’s the weekend, Tamryn, I’m not a masochist.”

“Well, not just a weekend.” Tamryn shifted, lifting his left arm to gesture for Zelda to come closer. She gladly accepted the embrace, burying her face in the soft wool of his sweater as he gave her a tight squeeze. “Happy birthday, shithead.”

She swatted at him as he laughed, turning away from her to slip the spatula under the pancake when Magnus chirped and set it carefully on the serving plate to his right.

Zelda’s brows drew together as she let her eyes wander over the ingredients, then the pancakes themselves, the realization dawning the longer she looked over it all. “Tam...are you making -”

“Mama’s syrniki recipe, yeah. I can’t promise it’ll be perfect, you and I both know she would follow her heart tweaking things and I only have the recipe cards you helped me braille, but I realized I have now been here for three birthdays and not even attempted making it.” He waved the spatula idly in the air and blew a few strands of hair out of his face before he continued. “Hopefully I wasn’t too presumptuous, but you and I both have the same opinions about chocolate and I felt optimistic.”

Zelda laughed, shaking her head as she found the chocolate in question and broke a piece off for herself. 

“No, not presumptuous at all.” She popped the piece into her mouth before she began to move about the kitchen, pulling together parts of Oberon’s own breakfast with the deer hot on her heels. “I’m looking forward to it. I don’t think I’ve ever made them myself, so this’ll be the first time I’ve had them in years. Tea or coffee?”

“Coffee, get the hell out of here with your fancy leaf water.”

“If tea is leaf water, then coffee is just bean water, stupid.”

“Maybe, but if I wanted to drink leaf water I’d just go drink from a puddle.”

Zelda flipped him off, and when Magnus squawked loudly, Tam returned the gesture, snickering to himself under his breath as he worked his way through the last few syrniki. 

*     *     *     *     *

Eventually, when they made their way out to the small back garden and crammed the plates onto the wrought iron patio table, chatting as Magnus settled on the back of one of the empty chairs and Oberon found his favorite spot - easily noted by the way the grass was permanently flattened at the base of the crabapple tree in the corner of the garden. They both were animated in conversation, Zelda only pausing to take the first bite of her syrniki and losing her train of thought.

They weren’t Evalina’s, but they were still delicious, the chocolate warm on her tongue and the strawberries perfectly between sweet and tangy - it was enough to make her throat feel a little tight after she swallowed.

“Good?” Tamryn asked after a moment, and Zelda laughed, nodding as she spoke. 

“They are. They’re not mom’s, but they don’t need to be. They’re perfect.” She reached out and laid a hand on his wrist, squeezing it lightly. “Thank you, Tam. Really.”

“You’re welcome.” Tam shoved strawberry in his mouth before he reached into the pocket of his sweatpants with his other hand, turning Zelda’s palm over and smacking a slim, flat box into her hand. “Your gift, by the way, before I set it down and forget where I put it. I already did once, I made the bed and lost it in the sheets. Damn near shit myself.”

Zelda snickered softly, gently tugging away the crisp white ribbon and carefully cracking open the box, the lid opening on a hinge that revealed the jewelry inside. 

The necklace was simple - only a single pendant, the six-pointed star a little bigger than the pad of her thumb and strung on a delicate golden chain. Her breath caught as she lifted the star on one of her fingers, watching the morning light gleam on its polished surface. If her throat had felt thick before, she felt like she was trying to swallow a rock now, eyes burning with the tears that welled up.

“You said you lost yours years ago.” Tamryn said gently. “I know you loved it, and you never took it off when we were kids…”

“You’re going to make me cry on my birthday.” Zelda sniffed, and Tamryn laughed, reaching out to pat her arm. 

“Don’t, because then you’ll make me cry, and then we’ll both look ugly when we go out later.” He smiled when Zelda snorted at that, swiping a rogue tear away before it could slip down her cheek. “Do you want help putting it on?”

“I’m sure it’ll look ridiculous with my pajamas, but that’s not going to stop me. Yes, please.”

The clasp would come together neatly at the base of Zelda’s neck - simple, but secure - and the pendant fell just below her collarbone, making her smile and touch her fingertips to it once she released her hair from where she’d moved it out of Tamryn’s way. He draped his arms lazily around her shoulders, chin propped on her head, rather than returning to his own seat across from her at the table. 

“If the chain is too short, I can take it back to the jeweler and ask them to add some length to it.”

“No, Tam, it’s lovely. Thank you so much.” She laid her hands over his and gave them a squeeze, smiling as he squeezed them back before he straightened up. 

“I’m glad you like it.” Quickly, he snatched a strawberry off her plate, snickering to himself as he made his way back around to his seat despite her protests at the theft of fruit. “Now shut up and eat your breakfast.”

“Ass.” Zelda reached out and stole one of the blackberries left on his own plate, munching happily on it and smacking his hand away when he tried to steal another strawberry off her plate. “Go away, you have your own fruit.”

“You won’t even share with your beloved older brother?”

“Just because I’ve been stuck with you since birth doesn’t mean I like you, you know.”

“Joke’s on you, bitch, that goes both ways.”

With a laugh, Zelda finally dug back into her syrniki, banter and conversation mixing and flowing between them easily as they talked about anything and everything that came to mind. The sun continued to move overhead, warming their faces long after their plates were cleared and their cups were empty.

She didn’t need to know how the rest of the day was going to go - in her book, it was already a pretty damn great birthday.

[andromedarune]

Bede x Hop Request: “Just Desserts” (p1)

REQUEST ~ “I have one, it’s a hop x bede where bede feels bad for being mean to hop, but is too scared of apologizing to him in fear of rejection. Due to his past at the orphanage and his overall fear of being left alone again. So he decides to send homemade desserts to hop with secret messages ,anonymously . Hop Figures it out when the desserts stop coming after bede gets sick badly ( maybe a bad fever from exhaustion, anything that stops him from baking will do). You can include opal or the other gym leaders teasing hop on who could be sending the treats. I hope this is okay.”

A/N: Lolol this is a 2 parter bc my dumbass couldn’t stop writing even though I was in agony writing this (only bc I'm just not sure if it’s any good lolol). So, uh, please give me validation, haha - Hope y’all enjoy and the second part should be coming up sometime soon (when my brain decides to return into a solid shape).

The third time Hatterene hissed at him from across the room, Bede figured that he needed a better distraction. Obviously pacing wasn’t doing much to ease the frustration in his gut. The boy sighed, pausing to fix his neatly ironed white button-up shirt before turning on his heels and walking out the room. There were better things he could be doing with his time, anyways.

Things certainly have changed for the boy ever since he joined the gym challenge that fateful day. He didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. But he allowed himself a moment of gratitude, despite his usual vocalizations of annoyance in his current position in life, at how it was only a year ago that he was sitting in a poverty-stricken orphanage with a bunch of abhorrent adults pitying him every day. But he’d never let anybody know that, of course. The last thing he needed was people pitying him again; that was even more annoying than people trying to be his friend all the time. People could be so bothersome, it was sickening.

Bede made his way down the hall, unconsciously tip-toeing past Ms. Opal’s bedroom, where she no doubt was resting. Her age seems to finally be catching up with her, these days, since she seemed to be taking more naps than normal. The boy made sure not to comment about it. He didn’t need a lecture from that crazy old bag. Once clear, he made a sharp turn, stepping down the spiral staircase to find himself in the empty dining room. Once upon a time, large parties were held here, no doubt filled with beautifully rich people mingling to some classical music. Thankfully, no such nonsense happened here anymore, which meant Bede had relative free-reign of the house so long as he didn’t cause trouble. He meandered around the long mahogany table, keeping his steps as quiet as possible against the old wooden floorboards, and he made his way into the kitchen.

For years, the only thing Bede could reliably use for stress-relief had been battling. All his frustrations could come loose, he could speak his mind, and relish in the cool, refreshing glow of a victory after everything was said and done. Of course he would end up being pretty damn good at it, after so much dedication and practice. But then he joined the gym challenge, and that all went to pot. Suddenly, he started losing battles. Him? Losing a pokemon battle?! He had never even considered that to be a possibility before, but it was happening. Each and every battle suddenly became so personal, finding every possible weakness in his opponent to expose it and attain yet another beautiful victory. And for most opponents, it worked, and he hardly wasted another thought on the matter. But not all of them left his mind.

Bede frowned, crossing his arms with a huff as he leaned against the counter. These pesky feelings were really getting annoying. Maybe all these sweet-natured and emotional fairy-types were starting to affect him in more ways than one. He ran a hand through his curly locks as if the motion would magically clear his mind. It didn’t.

Well, there still is one thing that might ease his tensions. The youth dug through the kitchen, picking out some of the things he would need, and began his work.

Baking was a guilty pleasure of his, something only his pokemon and Ms. Opal knew about (and she only knew because she caught him in the middle of the night). The only reason he ever considered giving it a shot was because he had a serious sweet tooth, but growing up poor meant that it was hard to buy all those fancy cakes and cookies he longed for in the big bakeries of Wyndon. So he started making them himself. At first, everything was incredibly inedible, but he was stubborn about it. He collected books and articles about baking - all in secret - and eventually became good enough to where he figured that his confectionaries rivaled that of big businesses in the region. He’d probably make a killing off selling them, but he’d never even consider that possibility. The boy would probably die of embarrassment if anybody else found out about his skill in baking. It was bad enough being the fairy king of Ballonlea (as people seemed to be calling him, nowadays); he didn’t need people thinking he was some sweet-hearted weakling, either.

By the time he was whisking away the batter, his Sylveon pranced in, eager to try to steal a taste. The pink pokemon purred at his thigh, wrapping its ribbon-like appendages around his waist while he tried to ignore them.

“Don’t,” Bede snapped at the pokemon. “I’m not giving you any more batter.”

Sylveon barked, attempting to stand on its hind legs to blast a classic Baby Doll Eyes on it’s trainer. It’s not very effective.

“Sylveon.”

The pokemon pouted, slinking off to a corner to watch with a pitiful expression. Bede clicked his tongue, returning to his work in order to avoid falling for Sylveon’s little trap. The last thing he needed was Sylveon getting sick again. The boy worked in near complete silence, the only sounds coming from the occasional bang of a pan or a utensil against the countertop. He didn’t need to bother putting on an apron beforehand; he’s practically perfected his routine to where he hardly ever makes a mess, and if he does, he cleans it up right away. It was lazy to continue working in a dirty station. He eventually pours the dark chocolate batter into a circular pan, carefully tucking it into the preheated oven to cook.

Ah, yes, the time he hated the most - waiting. Thankfully, it wasn’t some giant, triple-decker cake that would need an eternity to cook; just forty minutes would suffice. He tidied up the kitchen a bit, washing some of the utensils and bowls he had borrowed before his mind started to wander yet again. He reached for the whisk when that terrible sensation in his gut suddenly slapped into him again, nearly forcing him down to his knees. The whisk tumbled down into the soapy water, sinking the bottom with a soft clank. Bede bit his lip, trying to keep his mind focused on the present. He didn’t have time to be wallowing in the mistakes of the past - he was better than that.

But still it remained. A bothersome guilt pulled him from the depths of his stomach, reminding him all the bitter words and heartless accusations he had thrown at so many people over the years. He thought that all of his training and efforts under Ms. Opal would be enough to push all those thoughts away, but they only increased with every day that went by. Though the world seemed to be forgiving him, he couldn’t help but hear the whispers of disdain amid the crowd with every match he participated in. It wasn’t like him to care about anybody else’s opinion. But here he was, running through every possible way he could make amends to the world. How pitiful. Bede shook his head. There’s no way to make everybody happy with me, he reminded himself, so just focus on being better. He was right; he couldn’t make amends with everyone, he couldn’t make everyone he hurt suddenly happy. But as Bede reached down for the whisk one more time, he couldn’t resist the want in his chest to try and reach out for the person he had hurt the most.

Yeah, that really wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

Bede near slapped himself in the face. What was he even thinking? Reaching out to someone like that?! Pathetic. He should be ashamed that his brain even came up with such a worthless idea. With another huff, the boy finished the dishes, moving some more things out from the cabinets to begin making the icing. It would be a travesty to put simple whipped cream icing on a chocolate cake, so Bede started working himself through a familiar buttercream recipe. Which was fine; everybody likes buttercream. Well, everyone with a soul likes buttercream. At least in Bede’s opinion.

The oven dinged not too long after. The boy paused his work to pull out the aromous dessert, setting it delicately on the middle shelf of the brand-new blast chiller that he received as a gift from Ms. Opal. He returned to the icing, popping in some pastel pink dye for reasons. The task would likely be complete by the time the cake was an acceptable temperature. He had done this a thousand times. Everything was second-nature, at this point.

Soon enough, it was his favorite part of the process. He scooped all of the icing and stuffed it into a frosting bag, pulled out the cake, and began his work. Out of the entire process, the icing was his favorite. Delicate, precise, no room for error. His mind would go completely blank as his hands did all the work, sculpting elegant rose designs along the sides of the cake. Never anything too elaborate (not that he couldn’t make it fancy, of course), never anything too plain. A perfect work of art - a declaration of love, if you will. But perhaps that was an interpretation that only Bede could recognize, much less appreciate. Finally, it was complete, sitting before him in all its beautiful, delicious glory. Sylveon trotted back up to its trainer, trying to stand up a little taller to get a better look at the result. Bede stared down at the cake, unsure how to feel. It was just what he envisioned. No doubt it would taste as good as it looked, probably even better. He poured his emotions into making this work of art, as he always had. But why did he always hesitate? Hadn’t he made this for himself to eat?

Bede shook his head, trying to hold back the trembling sigh from his lips. He wandered back to the kitchen to wash his hands, Sylveon watching with a perplexed expression. When the pokemon called for his attention, he finally slumped forward, leaning against the counter with his eyes slammed shut.

“I can’t do it,” he scoffed, unsure of who he was even talking to. “I do this every time, and I still can’t do it.”

Sylveon returned to his side, pressing a wet nose against Bede’s elbow. The boy absentmindedly reached down for the lovely creature, running his hands through the soft fur in hopes that it would ease his frustrations.

There was one other reason that Bede baked. He had always thought that food was the way to someone’s heart, especially sweets. Surely it would be enough to earn someone’s forgiveness, as well.

But the idea of actually doing that was terrifying. There was simply no way he could head all the way down to the laboratory in Wedgehurst, knock on the door with his heart in his hands, and beg for forgiveness from the person he had been so sure that he hated with every fiber of his being. And why? Because he was jealous? Confused? Like anybody would believe that nonsense. Even the thought of looking into those brilliant golden eyes again filled him with so much anxiety that it was difficult to breathe. Even thinking that person’s name would be a death sentence for Bede’s decrepit heart. Did he even still have one? Surely he must - all these pesky emotions had to be coming from somewhere. You would think that years of self-inflicted bitterness and anger would wring that stuff out of you, but apparently not.

Sylveon nudged his trainer yet again. Deep magenta eyes peered down, still trying to seem irritated with the pokemon’s constant interruptions.

“What?” he frowned.

The pokemon just stared up at him, that hopeful twinkle in its eyes gleaming with just a hint of… knowingness? The boy flicked up an eyebrow.

“You’re not serious,”

Sylveon barked happily.

“Most definitely not.”

A whine. Bede ran another hand through his hair, shaking his head. There was no way his pokemon was going to convince him to do something so childish. Right?

And yet, there he was, standing in front of the Wedgehurst Pokemon Laboratory, simple white box in his trembling hands. A small pink envelope rested on the top of the box, devoid of any signature or address. Just a quick drop-off gift to ease his conscience a little, nothing more. Sure, he had spent nearly three hours writing a letter - constantly writing then rewriting then rewriting some more in an attempt to make his words sound less annoying - but it wasn’t that big of a deal. Not like he would even know who sent this stuff. Bede made sure of that. So, with a deep inhale, the pink-clad boy gingerly placed the gift on the welcome mat, giving it a much too sentimental pat before racing off. Sylveon, following its cue, slapped the doorbell and scampered off after its owner, hiding beside the side of the building. Bede scooped up the pokemon, holding it to his chest while his heart raced inside of him. Was he making a big mistake? Would he even feel any sort of comfort from this? He wasn’t expecting any sort of forgiveness - he didn’t even sign the note! Maybe this wasn’t exactly his best idea.

The door opened with a creak, halting the gym leader’s breathing for a moment. A hefty bleat burst into life from the porch. No doubt that was Dubwool. Bede held his breath a little longer, clutching onto his decently sized pokemon for dear life.

“Hey, what’s this?” Hop’s voice wafted into the air. Bede could have died right then and there. Already he sounded so different - hadn’t it only been a year since they last spoke to each other? He sounded so much like his brother, but more youthful and bright…. But Bede tried not to think about that too much. “I don’t think Sonia’s expecting a package today.”

It’s for YOU, you dolt, Bede wanted to scream, feeling his face heat up to a rather unsightly shade of pink. Well, if pink could really be unsightly. But the sounds of shuffling and the following shut of the front door soon ease all the tension from the gym leader’s shoulders. Sylveon squirmed a bit in his hold, but Bede was too busy peeking around the corner. The box was now gone, no doubt in the hands of the professor’s assistant. Everything was out of Bede’s hands. He had technically made his amends, and could live his life in peace. With a smug nod of his head, he left the laboratory and made his way back to Ballonlea.

But then next week came along, and the feelings returned again. Bede could hardly focus on his training because of it; those terrible anxious feelings curled around in his stomach, but this time were tinged in a strange sensation of - dare he say - longing. Had Hop read the letter? Had he eaten the cake? Was it good? Did he even like chocolate cake with buttercream icing? Bede paused at that. Everyone likes chocolate cake with buttercream icing, he affirmed to himself, those who don’t are soulless and tasteless wretches! But still, these emotions didn’t seem to be leaving him any time soon. Sylveon pranced up to him as he stomped out of the stadium, frustrated with his own distraction, and offered a knowing yip. Bede didn’t even try to argue. He just grumbled a frustrated affirmation to the pokemon and hurried back to Ms. Opal’s house.

Within the next couple of hours, another elegant cake was crafted, just as perfect as the last. This time, though, he decided upon a chaste vanilla batter, along with a basic cooked frosting that was dyed a pale blue. Unlike the last, this cake was considerably more simple, but still managed to hold an elegant touch thanks to the delicate rose sculptures dancing along the top of the cake. While Bede was positive that his last cake was absolute perfection, he figured that a change of flavors could be appreciated. There was no way that Hop would have disliked something so perfect, no? Bede didn’t let himself entertain that thought.

As he wrapped up his cake, however, he noticed Sylveon trot away from his place at his feet. Before Bede could ask what was the matter, his eyes caught sight of that familiar old woman gazing curiously at the boy from the threshold. Bede grimaced, trying not to seem so guilty.

“A-ah, Ms. Opal, I….”

“Feeling frustrated, I see?” she spoke as plain as day, giving the pokemon a few pats.

Bede looked back down to his creation, wishing that she would just leave him alone. It wouldn’t be the first time anybody would do that.

“I was just feeling unsatisfied with my performance today during training. Nothing more.”

“Hm… And might I add that you’re looking considerably more pink than you usually are.”

Bede grumbled, raising a hand up to his cheeks. Sure enough, they were warm.

“D-don’t you have anything better to do?”

Opal shrugged, seeming content to watch the boy squirm underneath her sharp glare. He was an adorable little thing, if a bit ornery. Well, incredibly ornery. Eventually, though, she began to shuffle off, waving a withered hand in her farewell.

“Go on - make your delivery before the cake gets stale. Wouldn’t want that sweet little Hop eating a stale cake, now, do we?”

“Ah, yes, of course - WAIT WHAT?!?”

But she was already down the hall, hooting to herself in her crazy old laughter. The pink on his cheeks flared into a strawberry red, burning through his body like he was hit with a powerful Will-o-Wisp. How could she have seen right through him? Was he really that obvious? Before he could scream at her that she was misinterpreting things, Sylveon nudged the boy’s side. Well, maybe that could wait until after the cake was delivered. Bede pursed his lips as he finished boxing up the cake, and hurried off to scratch out an acceptable letter to go with it.

Just one more should do it, he reminded himself as he reached the laboratory yet again, depositing his anonymous gift onto the welcome mat just like before. And then my conscience will be clear and I can focus on more important things. He nodded to himself before scrambling away, letting his Sylveon ding-dong-ditch just like last time.

“Oh, another?” Hop’s voice eventually rang out, snagging something deep in Bede’s chest. “I wonder if it’s from the same person?”

Of course it is, you moron! Bede silently fumed from the side of the laboratory, waiting for the door to shut. A few moments went by, filled with a strange silence. Bede crossed his arms, trying to ignore the rising sense of dread in his gut. Just take it inside already, he wanted to shout. But that’d be unwise, exposing himself in such a childish manner. So the gym leader remained silent, counting the seconds as he fought the urge to peek around. Just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, the door eventually closed, releasing the breath that Bede had been unconsciously holding the entire time. He glared down at Sylveon, who seemed incredibly happy at the moment as it danced around Bede’s feet.

“Alright,” he whispered, pointing a finger at the jovial creature, “that’s the last one. No more after this - got it?”

Sylveon wagged its tail, staring back with those big dumb eyes to its trainer. Bede let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. He figured that reprimanding the pokemon would be fruitless, so he just decided to leave now while he had the chance. The last thing he needed was to get caught while engaging in an unsightly shouting match with a rather clueless Sylveon.

[kasdeyathebitterwoman]

12. Trust and 41. Temptation mwahahaha

WOMAN. WHAT. HAVE. YOU. DONE. -sigh-

#12+#41: Trust and temptation. 

This one also ended up being a long one. Hope you enjoy! 

How can you live with yourself after you’ve broken someone’s trust and given into temptation? Apparently really, well, as Henry was learning. It was the day of his birthday and you were getting things ready for a big, blow-out bash with his family and close friends. It wasn’t really his thing, but he liked the idea of being with his loved ones and he couldn’t say no to you. Especially when you agreed to make his birthday cake: triple-decker red velvet with vanilla buttercream frosting. Outside of his mum, you were the only one he trusted to make a cake that he could enjoy. It was going to be decadent and completely against his diet, but if he was going to do this, he was going out happy. 

That morning, you both had gotten up early. You went straight to the kitchen to begin prepping all the food for the festivities while Henry went out for a run. He was prepping for all the inappropriate foods he was planning on eating today. When he came back from the run, he jogged into the kitchen to find you putting a tray of something in the fridge. He reached around you to grab a bottle of water, gave you a sloppy kiss on the cheek, then made his way upstairs for a shower. 

Clean and refreshed, he came back downstairs to find you still in the kitchen and still cooking. He watched you for a moment as you stirred the batter for what he hoped was his cake. You flicked your eyes to him and smirked, continuing what you were doing. Henry grabbed some breakfast for himself, then left for his office. He did his thing and listened intently to the sounds coming out of the kitchen. When the doorbell rang, he darted out of his chair, eager for a distraction. His stomach was grumbling for all the delicious foods he could smell. 

Opening the door, he found his mom and dad standing on the other side. They came early to help you get everything prepped. Moments later, the first of his brothers showed up. His siblings helped keep him occupied so you and his mum could finish the food. Everyone else headed outside to hang out. His nieces and nephews chased Kal who happily indulged their games. Henry watched, content, as the festivities began. When he came inside for another beer, he saw you icing the cake, he got excited. 

“Ooooh,” he cooed excitedly. Seeing a smidge of icing that fell onto the tray, he reached for it, but you slapped his hand away. 

“Don’t you dare,” you challenged him. Slackjawed, Henry looked around the room for his mum. 

“Not my house,” she stated, throwing her hands up in defense. Henry looked back at you, clearly hurt. 

“But it’s my birthday,” he whined. You snorted and shook your head, going back to icing the cake. 

“Yeah, and I distinctly remember the Christmas disaster last year,” you retort, glancing up at him. The disaster she was referring to was the apple pie, bourbon pecan pie, and the pumpkin spice latte pie-eating debacle last Christmas. Someone snuck a piece out of every pie before she could unveil them to his family. It was a complete mystery as to who the culprit was. 

“I feel like this is your fault,” he mumbles, though when he sees you look up at him with raised eyebrows, he immediately turns to run out the door while his mother’s laughter follows him. Not long after the exchange about the cake, you and his mum were done and could finally join everyone outside. Henry found you and offered you a beer, wrapping his arms around your waist. Together, you stood to survey the scene. His family was around, laughing and having a good time. The love of his life was in his arms and his Akita was having a blast with the kids. Nothing could have made the day better.

At one point, Henry found an excuse to go inside. While he did grab a handful of snacks from the table, he eventually found himself over by the cake. You’d covered it with a lid. He removed it with the sole purpose of examining the final product. It was a glorious looking masterpiece. Three layers of plush red velvet with a vanilla buttercream frosting sandwiched between and coating the whole thing. Staring at it, he couldn’t resist the temptation. With his pinky finger, he scraped a little of the icing off the tray. As soon as the icing hit his tongue, he knew he was done for. Quickly, he grabbed a fork from the drawer and cut off a small section at the bottom. 

The bite of cake barely sat in his mouth before he practically swallowed it whole. This had to be your best work yet. Looking around, he made sure no one was watching. Then with the fork, he cut off a bigger chunk. Before he realized it, a substantial amount of the cake was missing. Panicked, he turned it around so it couldn’t be seen at first, placed the lid back on top, then ran back outside. He found one of his brothers and struck up a conversation. Occasionally, he glanced at you to see if you knew anything, but you were none the wiser. 

The day flew by as everyone enjoyed themselves. Henry had a few beers, laughed with his brothers, and embarrassed you by kissing you in front of everyone. He was happy and very glad he agreed to all of this. Things took a turn when he realized you were getting ready to serve the cake. He knew you’d see the giant hole he made. When you came out of the house holding the covered cake, singing happy birthday, the guilt took over him. 

“Wait, wait,” he said, holding up his hands. Slowly, everyone stopped to watch him. “I have a confession to make,” he took a pause, looking over at you. “I ate some of the cake earlier,” he says. A hush falls over the group. You look up at Henry innocently and pull the lid off. What he was expecting to see was not what was there. The cake underneath this lid was perfect and completely intact. 

“You mean, you ate the cake that was on the counter?” you ask. His brow furrows as he stares down at the cake. “You ate the decoy?”

“Yeah, I ate a huge chunk out of it right here,” he said, twisting the cake around to the spot that would have had a piece missing. He stared at it for a beat before your words clicked. 

“Hold on,” he looked up at you and began to hear the snickers from everyone around him. “Decoy?” 

“I knew it!” you exclaimed, pointing a finger at him. “I knew you were going to fall for it!” 

“Wait a minute, you tricked me?” he asked as you laughed. 

“Yep!”

“Why?” At that moment, his brother Charlie brought out the other cake, the one he ate, and set it down next to the perfect one. 

“You think I’m going to trust you after what happened at Christmas?” you demand. His siblings murmur some agreement and Henry looks at them shocked. Then, without missing a beat, Henry digs his hand into the cake he ate from and filings it at you. The chunks hit your face perfectly. You stand there with your mouth open shocked for a moment before diving to get your own handful of the cake. His family stood back and watched as the two of you laughed and shoved cake in each other faces. You are both covered in red velvet cake in minutes. 

“Truce?” Henry finally asks, breathless, when the last of the cake has been smashed into your hair. You look up at him, smirking. 

“Truce,” you say. Smiling, Henry leans down at kisses you as his family laughs around you. “But I still don’t trust you,” you tease. 

I’ve been working off of this Prompt List. Feel free to send me a request from this list or any other Henry idea you might have! 

[emospritelet]

Desperation - chapter 11

25: “I’ll trade you”

[AO3]

x

Making the cupcakes was fun. Bae managed to find aprons for them both and helped to measure out the ingredients and beat the eggs as Belle mixed the butter and sugar together. Bae had suggested that they make a carrot cake mix, and Belle thought this was a good idea; grated carrot would at least get a little nutrition into Gold if he ate some. She added chopped walnuts and spices to the mix, and after making up the cake batter they spooned it into paper cases packed into a tray. Bae sat down on one of the kitchen chairs, licking cake batter from the wooden spoon they had used to mix it. Belle had run a finger around the bowl herself, and had to admit that it tasted pretty good.

“What frosting do you want?” she asked, as she slid the tray into the oven.

“I don’t think we have any cream cheese, so buttercream, I guess.”

“Ooh, yum!” Belle began washing the mixing bowl, ready to make the frosting. “You think your dad will like these?”

“Course he will, because we made them,” said Bae, with certainty. “He likes chocolate cake, too. And oatmeal raisin cookies. Can we make cookies?”

“Let’s see how the cupcakes turn out first,” said Belle, smiling at his enthusiasm. “How was Neal? Did you get to see the kittens?”

“They were sleeping with their mom,” said Bae. “He showed me on the phone. They’re so cute! His mom says I can go get them when the Mayor lets us out. I want the little black one with the white feet, and the stripey one.”

“They sound adorable,” she said, scrubbing the bowl clean. “Kittens like playing and getting into stuff. Your dad’s yarn could be in trouble.”

“Oh, yeah.” Bae looked thoughtful. “We’ll have to keep an eye on them if they’re in the lounge, I guess.”

“Will he mind if they mess things up?”

“He wouldn’t yell at them,” said Bae. “Papa never yells. I don’t want them to wreck his stuff though, even if they’re just playing. Maybe we can make them some toys.”

Belle thought for a moment.

“Do you know how to make pom-poms?” she asked. “If your Papa has some spare wool, we could make some and put them on strings for the kittens to chase.”

Bae looked excited.

“Yeah! I think I remember,” he said. “Papa showed me how. We cut circles out of card and wind wool through, right?”

“Right.” Belle dried the mixing bowl. “We’ll need to ask your dad if we can use some of his wool. Maybe this afternoon, when we’ve finished all the baking you want to do.”

“Okay. Cool.”

“In that case, why don’t you get the powdered sugar, and we’ll make the buttercream?” suggested Belle.

x

The cupcakes were soon sitting on a rack, filling the kitchen with the scent of cinnamon and nutmeg and covered with craggy crowns of buttercream. They had also made two batches of cookies (oatmeal raisin and chocolate chip), and they were cooling on wire racks, ready to go in the cookie jar. Belle finished the load of laundry, and folded the clothes, packing them into the laundry basket to be taken upstairs. Bae helped to fold the sheets, but that seemed to drain him of all energy, and Belle surmised that he had still not fully recovered from the virus. He was unusually subdued, his natural energy having disappeared, and so she sent him to the lounge with a glass of milk and a cupcake and told him to rest. 

She peeked in on Gold when she took the clean laundry upstairs, but he was sleeping soundly, so she left him to it, setting the clean clothes down on his dresser and tiptoeing out. Bae had put the TV on, but when she put her head around the lounge door he was also asleep. Smiling to herself, she put the crochet blanket over him and went to clean up in the kitchen.

By the time the sun was setting, Belle felt as though her feet were ready to fall off. Bae came shuffling through just as she was preparing dinner, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

“Hey!” she said, smiling as she slid the mac and cheese into the oven. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay.” He wrinkled his nose. “I fell asleep.”

“You sure did,” she said. “I was going to take your dad a cup of tea and one of these cupcakes. You want to help?”

“Can I take him a cookie too?”

“I’m sure he’d love that.” Belle went to pour out the tea. “You did a great job on mixing that dough. Quite the chef.”

“Papa lets me help him bake.”

“Well, you’re both very talented,” she said. “It’s lucky I’m staying with you, or I’d never get to make anything this delicious.”

Bae beamed at her as he put one of the cakes and a cookie on a small plate.

“Where’s your house, Belle?” he asked.

“Oh, I just have an apartment above the library,” she said. “It’s small, only one bedroom, but I guess It’s enough for now.”

“But if it’s above the library, you don’t have a garden,” he said. “Where do you grow vegetables?”

Belle gave him a rueful smile.

“I’m afraid I never quite got around to growing my own food,” she said. “I have to rely on the store.”

“We can’t grow everything we want,” Bae conceded. “There’s no fruit trees and we don’t have a pumpkin patch. But it’s okay because we forage in the woods and we swap stuff with Neal’s dad and with Anton. He has a farm too.”

“Oh, so you swap for things you don’t have?” Belle added milk to the cups and stirred. “That makes sense.”

“Yeah, like maybe Anton has too many pumpkins, and Papa has too many carrots, so they say “I’ll trade you” and then everyone gets to eat good things.”

“Sounds perfect,” said Belle, smiling at his enthusiasm. “Come on, let’s take your dad his tea.”

Gold was awake when they entered the room, and had propped himself up on the pillows a little. His breathing was still uneven, and he looked hollow-eyed and exhausted, but he smiled warmly at Bae and hugged him tight.

“We made cupcakes!” Bae announced, his voice a little muffled by Gold’s T-shirt. “And cookies! Your favourite.”

“Well, you have been busy.” Gold kissed the top of his head. “Let’s have a taste.”

“We made a carrot cake mix,” said Belle, as Gold took a bite. “We thought it would do you good, get some nutrition inside you.”

“They have nuts in, too!” put in Bae.

Gold made noises of enjoyment, nodding his head as he chewed. There was a blob of frosting on the edge of his lip, and Belle watched as he swiped at it with a long finger and sucked it off. His eyes flicked to hers, and she looked away.

“Delicious,” he said.

“Try the cookies!” said Bae excitedly. “We put the big raisins in.”

Belle bit her lip in amusement as Gold dutifully ate the cookie.

“I can see Granny has competition on her hands,” he said, his voice lower and rougher with coughing. You two could open up a bakery together.”

Bae wriggled with delight, and Belle set the cup of tea down on the nightstand.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, and he lay back against the pillows with a sigh.

“I’m okay,” he said. “I’m sure I’ll be better soon.”

He held her gaze steadily, and Belle picked up on the silent message.

“Bae, your dad didn’t try the chocolate chip cookies yet,” she said. “You want to go get him one?”

“Yeah!”

Bae trotted off happily, and Belle turned back to Gold, folding her arms.

“How are you really feeling?” she asked, and he screwed up his face.

“Feels like there’s a ton of weight on my chest,” he said. “It’s exhausting, honestly.”

“Well, you just stay in bed,” she said firmly. “Bae and I have everything under control.”

“So I see.” He gave her a slanted grin. “How is he?”

“He took a nap this afternoon,” she said. “I think he’d overdone things a little. But he’s a lot better this evening. He’s on the mend.”

“Good.” He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh, and reached for his tea. “Sorry about earlier. I wasn’t expecting to find you in my bedroom.”

“Oh, it’s fine, really,” she said hurriedly, feeling her cheeks start to heat. “Just - bad timing, that’s all.”

“Yes.” He took a drink. “Well. I’ll be sure to be more careful while you’re here. No more unexpected nudity.”

“In that case I promise I’ll do likewise,” she said primly, and he chuckled.

“If you could. In my delicate state I don’t think my heart could take it.” 

Belle giggled, still blushing, and he grinned and took another drink of tea.

“At least I know Bae’s in good hands while I’m lying here like a useless lump,” he said. “He seems to have taken a shine to you. It’s nice to see.”

“He’s a great kid,” she said honestly. “You must be very proud of him.”

“Yeah.” He smiled, setting down his cup. “Best thing I ever did with my life.”

“And he’s worried about you,” she added. “To be honest, so am I. I know we really only just met, but I - I kind of feel like we’re friends. Are we friends?”

His smile grew a little.

“Of course,” he said. “You’ve been a true friend to us this past week. I won’t forget it.”

She smiled, and he looked hesitant, glancing across at her. 

“When all this is over,” he said. “When you go back to your own life and - and you get busy with running the library, I hope you’ll come and visit us. Maybe - maybe for dinner, or something.”

“Now that I know how good you both are at cooking?” she teased. “I’ll be over here so often you’ll get sick of the sight of me.”

Gold’s smile grew soft, dark eyes gleaming in the light of the lamps.

“I don’t think that would be possible,” he said quietly.

[love-takes-work]

Moon Fruit from the Jungle Moon!

If you’ve ever wanted to eat one of those weird pear-shaped purple fruits Stevonnie scores in “Jungle Moon,” try making this ridiculous cake! No food coloring involved. Tastes sort of fruity and includes ube and sugar plum essence.

Nom. 

Recipe below. (I invented this!)

See more SU food tutorials!

Okay! Ever want to eat that juicy, delicious-looking MOON FRUIT that Stevonnie chomps on during their adventures in "Jungle Moon"?

I mean, the normal answer is "no, I never thought of that, you bizarre person."

But if you are one of the few and the proud who is responding with an abnormal answer that sounds something like "yes, that looks delicious," I'm going to teach you how to make it!

As a CAKE!

Large fruit replicas from this show are not new to me. In fact, I made a giant strawberry cake in a previous recipe blog! For this mysterious fruit, I took similar inspiration regarding the desire to cook it to taste like what it looks like; as in, for the strawberry, I cooked actual strawberries into the cake.

But! For this mysterious fruit we have no idea what it is!

So I get to improvise!

The shape of it is sort of pear-like, even though it is purple. I decided why not make it taste like a plum? It is a little plum-like in color and apparent texture. But I also wanted it to taste kind of unusual, like a food on another world obviously would, so I decided to also incorporate natural purple coloring using my leftover ube extract from that time I made Lars's ube roll! Which should combine with plum for an INTERESTING flavor!

There are three parts to this cake. The cake; the foundation frosting; and the mirror glaze for that nice slick pear skin look!

PART ONE: CAKE

Ingredients:

2 and 1/4 cups all purpose flour

2 and 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened to room temperature

1 and 1/2 cups granulated sugar

3 large eggs, room temperature

1/4 teaspoon sugar plum flavoring

1 3/4 teaspoons ube extract

1 cup buttermilk (I use powdered, reconstituted)

You will also need a few unusual items for this cake. Most notably: spherical cake pans! Mine is a 6-inch diameter sports ball cake pan I bought just for this recipe.

Instructions:

Preheat the oven to 350ºF / 175ºC.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the dry ingredients: the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Set that aside for now.

Then take a large bowl and whip the butter and sugar together until it's light and fluffy. Once you've got a nice light texture, start beating in the eggs, one at a time, until fully incorporated. Finally, beat in two extracts.

At this point, add in the dry ingredients slowly (add a little, stir, add a little, stir). Don't whip it up too much; just stir it all in. Then add the buttermilk and keep stirring it until you get a nice even mixture. It will seem really soupy and weird at first but I promise, it becomes an even, normal texture cake mix.

Grease and flour the two halves of the spherical cake pan. Greasing and flouring is VITAL because you want to have a smooth surface on your ball cake and you don't want any trouble getting the cake out.

Measure out 2 cups of batter and pour into one half, then measure out 2 cups of batter for the other. With what's left, split it evenly between the two halves as well as you can; I ended up with about 2 1/2 cups of batter in each half.

When you've completed the batter division, balance the pans on the rings that should come with them for stability and stick them on a cookie sheet in the oven. Bake for about 45 minutes.

This cake took WAY longer to bake than I was told to expect based on the recipe and the pan instructions, so I recommend beginning to check for consistency with a toothpick around 30 minutes. (A toothpick should come out clean from the center, and poke it down there really good.) It's okay if the outside browns. It's still purple inside (and usually a little green because ube does that for some reason).

You should let the spherical cakes cool in their pans on a wire rack until they are COMPLETELY cool. While you wait for them to be cool, you can get your frosting ready!

PART TWO: FOUNDATION FROSTING

This is basically a typical buttercream with ube extract in it to turn it light lavender. If you have a recipe you prefer for this, feel free to use it, but this is my recipe.

Ingredients:

1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature

2 cups powdered sugar

1/8 tsp salt

1/2 tbsp almond milk

1/4 tsp ube extract

Instructions:

Take the butter and whip it. Then start adding in the powdered sugar. I prefer to sift the powdered sugar before I add. Only whip in half a cup at a time. Every time you add one cup of sugar, add a tiny splash of your pre-measured milk.

Once it’s whipped all together, you can add in the ube flavor and salt and stir it up. This may seem too runny, and if it does you can either add a tad more sugar or refrigerate it. If it seems a tad too thick you can add a splash more milk.

Once your cake is TOTALLY COOLED, you can work with it. Turn the cake out onto the wire racks and level them--meaning, you should take a serrated knife and chop off the parts of the cakes that rose in a dome at the place where it's supposed to be the flat center of the ball cake.

Do not discard these! You need them later, so keep them in one piece on a plate on the side!

Use the foundation frosting to glue the two halves of the cake together. You don't need to chop off the bottom of the sphere to make it stable; it seems to squish itself enough to hold steady and not roll around.

Once you have a cute ball, take your cast-offs from the leveling process and use three different biscuit cutters to make a little tower of cake cutouts. Use frosting to stack them on top of your cake. Weird, eh?

Then begin using the remainder of the foundation frosting to frost the whole cake. You should have just enough.

Work carefully to smooth the frosting, especially at the top where you have uneven, stair-like surface. Frosting will help give the illusion that it is smooth under there, but it takes some work.

And once you have it all frosted, this is important: REFRIGERATE YOUR CAKE! That will help the frosting become like a skin--more firm and will hold up well to the last thing you're going to do to it.

PART THREE: MIRROR GLAZE

Mirror glaze is a type of icing that is designed to pour like syrup and give a reflective, beautiful, mirror-like sheen to a cake.

The trouble I have with mirror glaze is that it usually uses gelatin and that isn't vegetarian, so I have to use a vegetarian alternative. Veg alternatives are not quite as shiny and reflective, but this will do very well for our fruit!

Ingredients:

1/2 cup milk or almond milk

1/8 cup sugar

1 cup buttermilk powder

2 tbsp unsalted butter

1/2 tsp vanilla

2 tsp agar-agar

1/3 cup water

2/3 cup light corn syrup

Another 2/3 cup sugar

150 grams white chocolate (I used chips)

First, some of these ingredients will get cooked into a "condensed milk."

If you would rather buy your own condensed milk in a can, you can ignore the first 5 ingredients of the list, but some people don't have condensed milk where they live or it's really expensive, so I'm just doing a version where we make our own.

(Uh, I also . . . forgot to buy some and realized it after I was way advanced in this recipe. Whoops.)

Instructions:

Place the milk or almond milk in a saucepan and heat on medium high until it almost reaches a boil. Then add the sugar and stir until it dissolves. Once it's dissolved, sift in the milk powder, stirring with a whisk to attack the lumps.

Once the powder is smoothly incorporated, add the butter and the vanilla. Turn the temperature to low and stir for about a minute or two until it almost boils again. Then remove it from the heat and let it cool completely. If you have lumps, you can strain it to get them out. It will thicken more once it's cooled. Measure out half a cup of it to use in this recipe.

Then make the shiny glaze:

Instructions:

Measure out your 1/3 cup of water and then dump a little bit of it into a very shallow dish. Stir the agar-agar into it and let it sit for about 5 minutes. Agar-agar is a vegetable-based gelatin type thing and it will do something similar to gelatin: it will thicken this syrup.

In a heavy saucepan, add your corn syrup, sugar, condensed milk, and remaining water. Let it come to a boil over medium heat. Once the sugar has dissolved and the mix is at a slow boil, take it off the heat. Let it stop boiling and rest for a moment before adding the white chocolate. The chocolate should melt. Finally, add the agar-agar mix.

If you want to strain the glaze to get any lumps you see, you can do that here.

I very strongly recommend straining the mixture.

I think most of the lumps in mine came from making my own condensed milk, but even if you use store-bought, some white chocolate or agar can cause clumpy CLODS and not incorporate completely. You do NOT want some of these lumps interrupting your perfect sheen! Add a couple drops of ube to turn it purple and let it come to room temperature.

Look at this shiny mirror glaze! It's so pretty!

You absolutely do not want to do this with warm glaze. DO NOT. Even if you think it's fine or that it won't pour properly if it's cold; I assure you, it will pour. It's syrupy. You don't want it to be warm. It will melt your cake frosting and NOT STAY ON THE CAKE.

Listen to me! Cool your glaze!

Next comes the moment of truth: Assembly.

Take the cake out of the fridge. Make sure your glaze is cool as well. Then set the cake on a wire rack and put a catching dish underneath. You will want to catch and reuse this frosting, so make sure you use a broad dish that will be able to catch anything that drips off the cake.

Pour the glaze, starting at the top. Just pour.

Pour an entire coat and then do something weird: Use a hair dryer on cool/low to set the icing and make it shinier.

This is a cool technique I learned for frosting!

Keep pouring new coats onto the cake. It's wonderful! Once you've exhausted your original supply, wait for it to stop dripping for the most part and then switch plates underneath, using what's dripped off the cake as a second coat. I did three coats on my cake.

Okay! So now you have a beautiful purple pear Jungle Moon cake. It still needs one thing though. A stem. I used licorice!

Enjoy your beautiful cake. Shiny purple on the outside and even purple inside, and it tastes like a weird fruit!

YEAH RECIPES!!! AND YES IT WAS DELICIOUS!!

See more SU food tutorials!

[caffeineivore]

Commission #2

For @nelwynp. Based off a very very old ficverse from wayyyyyyy back in the day called “Freckles” which may or may not be found on LJ. Makoto/Nephrite.

Commissions are still open!! Check out the details here or all the other commissions currently available here!

Long distance relationships are statistically known to suck, and honestly, I wouldn’t have considered myself the rose-coloured glasses type. The real world doesn’t care that you’ve probably, maybe, already gotten your share of crap thrown at you, starting from the death of your parents, and think maybe it should cut you a break. I knew the chances of Nick and myself making it were slim. He would be busy, surrounded by strangers a whole two states away. Sure, we’d known each other since we were kids, and maybe by now, he had become the one constant in my life-- my North Star, perhaps-- that forever friend who’d seen me at my worst and didn’t care in the least. And maybe--- maybe, finally, I’d finally told him those three words that had been nagging at the back of my subconscious for the last year of our acquaintance. He’d said them back, and it was only then that I realized how much I’d needed to hear and say them.

Still, I saw him off on that cloudy morning with dry eyes and homemade eggs Benedict-- that is to say, that I fed him and double-checked to make sure that he had not misplaced anything important. The apartment that he’d been living in was stripped bare, and all of his worldly goods were in the trailer of the U-haul which would take him to his new home. I was plugging his phone into the car charger in the front console when his arms wrapped around me from behind, and turned me to face him. 

Nick has always been a good-looking guy, in that sort of rugged, All-American way, with broad shoulders and a great smile, and I’d learned at some point in our long acquaintance that he gave the best hugs-- the type that lifts you slightly off your feet and makes you feel like some type of dainty damsel even when you’re six feet tall in heeled boots. It’s no different now, and maybe I hung on for a moment too long, myself. He’s not much of a cologne guy, but his sweatshirt smells like laundry soap and I’m pretty sure he’d used my shampoo that morning again, because his hair’s super soft-- and the flowery scent is not nearly as girly on him as it is on me. 

“Call me when you get there.” I hope to Hell, of course, that the fact that my voice is muffled against his neck disguises the unsteadiness.

“I’ll call you every day.”

I wouldn’t hold him to it, of course, but I didn’t say anything to that effect, and I watched as he drove off, and then headed off to the gym for a punishing three-mile run on the treadmill followed by a full hour of kickboxing to a playlist of angry girl rock, and if I cried in the shower afterwards, no one needed to know that.

He did call that night, though. And the night after. And the night after that. And soon, it had become a routine, and maybe I should have given him more credit the whole time. Before I knew it, two months had passed, and he flew down for a long holiday weekend, and after we’d christened three separate rooms in my apartment, we got caught up in person. I’d heard so much about his new place and the people he’d met at his new school that I probably could’ve picked his favourite and least favourite professors out of a crowd. 

This became a thing, and so for two years, we did the long distance thing. He heard about the awful day when the stand mixer went rogue and how I was still picking bits of cake batter out of my hair two hours later. I heard so much about one particularly persnickety city inspector on a project he worked on that I learned to hate the guy as much as Nick did. Our reunions were sporadic, rapturous and never long enough, though half the time we eschewed actual dates in favour of staying in and just being ourselves together-- watching movies, working out, buying groceries and cooking meals, falling asleep so close together that it was hard to tell where one of us ended and the other one began. 

We spent that first Thanksgiving at my place-- Friendsgiving, really, cooking a huge meal in a too-small kitchen, inviting all of our old friends. I shooed Nick and James out of my kitchen and chatted with Raye as she snapped a bowl of green beans for me and sounds of the football game filtered in through the living room. She was a ball of nerves-- James would be meeting her very formidable, very rich, very conservative father when he went over to her home for Christmas. Said father would not be amused to find his only daughter not only dating, but actually fully living in sin with a mouthy city boy-- when Nick had moved out, James and Raye had gotten an apartment together. Amy and Zach had arrived a bit later, because he’d had to pick her up from the hospital where her shift had run over. Kevin and Mina, on the other hand, were at her parents’ house out of state. She’d texted me all types of sad face emojis about how the cranberry sauce had come out of a can and the mashed potatoes had come out of a box, but I had no sympathy. She had parents who cooked for her for Thanksgiving, didn’t she? Besides, if she really cared about food over time spent with them and Kevin, she would have told them that she had Ebola and came over to my place instead.

At any rate, against all the odds, we somehow managed to make it work, and two years, three months and six days after that first time that I told him I loved him, he was on his way down to visit again. I’d gone up to see him get his Master’s degree two months ago and he’d taken me out around the town to celebrate with his friends and classmates. Some of them had met me before, but to those who hadn’t, he introduced me as his girlfriend, and from the easy acceptance, I knew that everyone present had some idea of our history. It had been a wonderful weekend, but I was a bit nervous about seeing him again today. Something had come up, very recently, and I wasn’t sure how he would take it.

At first, I had thought nothing of the symptoms. Fatigue and a bit of nausea doesn’t tend to alarm anyone right off the get-go. Everyone knows restaurant hours are brutal, and as an apprentice chef, any task, no matter how mundane or unpleasant, might get assigned to me on any given day. Certainly, I might get to spend one day arranging delicate edible flowers and a compote of ripe berries around and on top of fancy panna cottas, but the very next, I might be doing nothing but washing dishes and running out garbage. The kitchen I work in specializes in a rotating seasonal menu, and at the time, calamari was in season. Certainly it is delicious deep-fried with casino butter and lemon wedges, sprinkled with sea salt and cracked black pepper, but it’s definitely not as appealing raw, slimy and fishy-smelling. It’s enough to make anyone lose their appetite doing prep early in the morning. But then I was late. And not to work, if you know what I mean. One week stretched into two, then three. The nausea didn’t go away, even when my day consisted of making large quantities of bourbon vanilla buttercream frosting for strawberry white chocolate cakes. It was a week ago that I picked up two different pregnancy tests from Walgreen’s. Both results had come back to tell me what I kind of already knew, deep down, and I was honestly terrified down to the bone.

I had always wanted to have that maybe-stereotypical home and family someday-- the cute house with gingerbread trim and the white picket fence and the garden full of old-fashioned flowers, a husband who loved me and our children and went to baseball games and dance recitals with equal enthusiasm. I wanted to be able to be the mom who baked cupcakes for the bake sale and cookies for the big jar on the kitchen counter, and volunteered to chaperone field trips to the science museum. That had been my own mother, from those distant reaches of old memories, and though I’d lost her, I knew that it was in me to keep her legacy alive. 

But I had not intended to do so when I had just started my career, unmarried and still living in a tiny college-campus apartment, with a boyfriend who lives two states away, who might not even want kids. God! That was a discussion we’d never even had. 

The door swings open, though, before I could think about it any more. Nick has a key to my place, of course, as I do to his. Sometimes he calls, but sometimes he just arrives, like today, a little ahead of schedule. I’m caught up in one of those long, tight hugs, a warm and familiar hand cupping the back of my neck, and maybe he feels a hint of desperation in my kiss. When he pulls back, his eyes are warm, but full of concern. “Everything okay, Freckles?”

“Ugh. Can you not call me that? We’ve talked about that.” Oh, Gods... A baby with his brown hair and my green eyes. His dimples and my freckles. I can almost picture a little girl, toddling on chubby legs, riding on his shoulders, picking dandelions in the yard and blowing the fluff away in the wind. I’d teach her to bake chocolate chip cookies and read her stories where the princess saved herself and buy her pretty dresses for picture day and sturdy jeans for playing outside in. I loved her already, but she wasn’t supposed to even exist. 

“Habit. And you scrunch your nose up when you’re mad, and I shouldn’t like it, but I do.” Nick presses another, shorter kiss to my mouth, then tips up my face. “But you seem a bit out of sorts. What’s wrong?”

“How could you tell if I’m out of sorts or not when you literally just walked in two minutes ago?” It’s an evasion, and I’m sure he can and will spot the bullshit and call me out on it. 

“Because I’ve known you since we were kids, and you don’t have to say or do anything for me to know when you’re out of sorts.” Nick pulls me gently over to the love seat, and sits me down, keeping one of my hands in his as though he expects me to bolt at any moment. “Everything’s okay, right? You didn’t have anything particularly horrible at work this week that I recall from our conversations.”

No, this week hadn’t been bad. Breaking down chickens is fairly mindless work once you get the hang of it. And the resulting bone broth is wonderful for someone who finds it difficult to keep food down some days. Nick deserves the truth, of course, and maybe the ripping-off-the-bandaid approach is best. I shut my eyes to his all-too-perceptive, all-too-loving gaze, and set my teeth.

“I’m pregnant.”

His hand tightens on mine and his next inhaled breath is sharp, but I plow on. “I know it’s not expected, and I know we were careful, but… it is what it is. You don’t have to worry, though. I’m not some delicate little miss who’s afraid of raising a child. The executive chef at work loves me, as he should, and I’m sure they’ll work with me when the time comes for maternity leave. And in this day and age, it’s not a big deal to be a single mom. I’m keeping this baby and she’s going to get the best life that I can give her, growing up.” I don’t know why I was so certain I was having a little girl. But she already existed, to me, and at that moment in time, she was probably only the size of my pinkie nail. “She will never doubt, for a moment, that she’s loved.”

“Of course not.” Nick finally speaks, and his voice is an awed, slightly choked-up whisper. I sense him moving, then one big, warm hand rests on my still-flat stomach, followed by the press of his lips. “We’re having a baby. Wow. Okay, so I guess I should get on with what I’d already planned to do, even though I’d planned for this to be a lot more romantic.” Belatedly, I realize that not only has he moved, but he is down on his knees in front of me, one hand on my stomach, the other one digging into a pocket, and then he pulls out a small black velvet box, flicks open the catch.

I’m not much of a jewelry type of girl-- I wear the same earrings, every single day, but working in a kitchen greatly limits the practicality of going around with bracelets and rings and do-dabs. Still, stereotypical though it might be, I’d always wanted that classic diamond solitaire engagement ring from my husband-to-be, and now, when it’s staring me in the face-- princess-cut and set in platinum, I find myself speechless. 

“Lita Oakley, love of my life, will you marry me?”

Of course he doesn’t mince words. In a lot of ways, I guess we’re past that point. But I draw my hand back a moment before he can slide that ring on. 

“I don’t want you to propose to me because I’m pregnant and you feel obligated. You’d end up regretting it, and that would kill me.” We didn’t live together now, but if we did someday, and then it all went south, and I had to walk into an empty house bereft of his presence and his things and even the way he’d always kick his shoes off any which way by the door rather than make sure they’re put up where no one can trip over them, I knew it would break me in a way that hadn’t been possible since my parents’ deaths.

Nick rolls his eyes, though, and huffs out a breath before digging deeper into that little velvet box, all the way underneath the white satin. He takes out a crinkled paper receipt, and unfolds it, and drops it on my lap. “You are so stubborn. Do you know that? Take a look at that receipt, will you? Just… humour me.”

I do. It’s from some jeweler in his state, and the price of the ring of course makes me wince a little. It’s definitely not cheap. But then I read it a little closer, and see the time stamp on the top. It was purchased at 4:26 PM on the sixth of December, two whole years ago. Perhaps six months after he’d moved away.

“I got it as soon as I could afford it, and I’d been saving up for a while. Probably not very well-thought-out of me, when everything was so up in the air. But I’d always known that we’d be here together, someday, and I’d be asking you to marry me. Anyway, it’s got nothing to do with the fact that you’re pregnant and everything to do with the fact that I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember, and there’s no one else in the world for me, and it’s too late to return this ring, anyway.” He pulls it out of the box, and I see something shining, trailing from it. “I know you can’t really wear rings, working in a kitchen. So I also got a necklace that you can wear this on, if you’ll just say yes. Please say yes.”

“How are we going to do this?” I blurt out, as that other infamous symptom of pregnancy-- emotional hormonal tears-- makes its appearance. I blink and try to sniffle them away, but Nick simply puts the ring on my finger, silvery necklace dangling from it, and gets up to his feet, pulls me gently to mine. “You live so freaking far away.”

“Not anymore I don’t.” He tugs me close, and kisses me again. “My lease is up in a month. I figure I can get another U-haul, and con the guys into helping out. I’m pretty sure that the people can put a good word in for me to get hired in somewhere local-- dumb jock notwithstanding, I worked my ass off these last few years and have the credentials and grades to prove it. Since my lease is up in a month anyway, might as well look for a new place to live. Some place that can be baby-proofed, and definitely not a top floor apartment with a janky elevator like here. Can’t have my pregnant fiancee struggling up five flights of stairs every day.”

He makes it seem so simple, really, as he pulls me in for what promised to be an extended cuddle session. 

But maybe-- maybe it would be. 

[catalinda04]

Carried Away Chapter 40: Cupcake not Pumpkin

Masterlist

Tuesday ran more smoothly for Lucy than Monday had. The students were starting to come to grips with the whole “our teacher is dating a celebrity” thing. Instead of questions about their relationship, it was requests to bring him to school for a visit. Lucy managed to shake off those requests by reminding the kids that Henry lived in London. Though she couldn’t help smiling to herself when she thought about him flying to her as they spoke.

  Toward the end of her lunch break, Lucy’s phone pinged, indicating she had a text. Butterflies swarmed in her stomach as she opened the message.

“Pumpkin, I’ve just landed. I didn’t want to call because I’m sure you’re in class right now. Dany made my arrangements, so I hope to be on my way to you within a couple of hours. I’ll call when I’m driving north. I love you.”

Lucy’s afternoon classes were vaguely controlled chaos. Lucy’s attention was on thoughts of Henry, and the students took advantage of her distraction. By the time she arrived at rehearsal, she was exhausted and a bit irritable.

After snapping at the cast for the fourth time in ten minutes, Patricia spoke up. “Ms. C, is something wrong? You’re biting our heads off for nothing.”

Lucy pillowed her head on her arms. “I’m sorry guys. My attention is somewhere else today. Why don’t we stop rehearsal for a few minutes, take a break, and play a game. I’ll even let you guys pick which one.” The kids were very open to taking a break, and picked a game that never failed to elicit huge laughs from everyone involved. It helped to center Lucy and bring her back to the task at hand.

As rehearsal drew to a close, Lucy gathered everyone for a sit-down. “I have a few reminders before I let you go for the night. First we’re still searching for some props, you all have the list of what we need, ask around please. We don’t have much of a budget to buy these things. Second practice will only go until 4:00 tomorrow. That’s tomorrow only, expect to stay until at least 5:00 on Thursday.” Lucy looked at the faces all around her, all excited to have a short rehearsal the next day. “But because we have a short practice tomorrow, I need you all to be on point. We have a couple of rough spots. We’ll work on blocking hard next week, this week, work on your timing; there are some extra long pauses in the middle. Otherwise, good work today crew, go home.” Lucy smiled as she watched the kids waste no time in gathering their things to leave the school for the day.

Lucy hurried back to her classroom, hoping to find a message from Henry. There wasn’t a message, but there was a missed call. She noted he’d tried to call almost 2 hours prior. She quickly gathered her purse and coat, anxious to get home to wait for him. Once she was driving, she called Henry.

“Hello Pumpkin.” Henry answered cheerfully

“Hey! Do you know how much longer it will be until you get here?” She asked hopefully.

“My sat nav tells me I will arrive at your address at 7:46.” He said precisely.

“Do you want me to hold dinner, or will you grab something on the road?”

“I think I’ll eat on the road. Don’t go to any trouble.”

“Ok then. I’ll let you focus on driving and I’ll see you soon! Love you.” Lucy’s smile could be heard through the phone line.

“I love you more.” Henry replied, disconnecting the call.

Lucy’s mind was on Henry as she drove home. “He’s coming here.” she thought out loud, coming to share her life. She still couldn’t quite believe it. When the alarm on her phone signaled the reminder she’d set in before her break from school, she jumped. Looking at the screen, it simply said “Snack”. She swore, and adjusted her course to stop at the grocery store, before going home.

The first thing Lucy did upon entering her house, was turn on her oven, before getting to work mixing batter. Once the first trays of cupcakes were in the oven, she surveyed the refrigerator, looking for something quick to eat for supper. When she didn’t find anything she went to her tablet and ordered a pizza, before getting to work on frosting.

While she was removing the first pans of cakes from the oven, and inserting the second set of pans, she heard a noise at the front of the house. “Lucy! I’m home!” Henry called in a horrible Cuban accent.

Henry heard Lucy’s giggle, before she called out, “I’m in the kitchen.” He followed the sound and the delicious aroma of something sweet, and found his Lucy, licking a dollop of frosting off of her index finger, a smile splitting her face. She bounded to him and he wrapped her in his arms, capturing her mouth. She tasted of cream cheese frosting, and something that was just Lucy. Breaking the kiss, he cupped Lucy’s head to his shoulder, holding her close, enjoying the feel of her in his arms. “How could I have missed you so much, it’s only been 3 days?” He murmured into her hair.

“It’s been a long 3 days.” she replied, not making any attempt to remove herself from his embrace. The oven timer beeping was the only thing that pulled her from his arms.

“What are you making?” He asked as she rotated the pans in the oven.

“Chocolate Cheesecake Cupcakes. It’s my turn to bring snacks to the staff meeting tomorrow afternoon, and if I’m bringing snack, everyone expects cupcakes. They’re what I’m known for.”

“Well, they smell amazing.” He said looking over the cakes on the cooling racks on the counter.

“They taste even better.” Lucy said, while loading frosting into a piping bag. “These cupcakes have inspired 3 people to propose to me. One was even a guy.” She joked.

“So mine was not the first proposal you’ve turned down.” He commented, wrapping his arms around her from behind, resting his head on her shoulder.

“No, but it’s the only one I considered accepting.” She said, turning her head to kiss his cheek. “Now, why don’t you go unpack, and leave me to my baking. I cleared some space in the closet and the dresser for you.” She pried his arms from around her waist, and turned him toward the bedroom, swatting his ass for good measure.

While she was frosting the first pans of cakes, the doorbell rang, she called out to Henry, “would you get that? I’m up to my elbows in buttercream.” She heard the rumble of low voices and then Henry appeared in the kitchen with her pizza.

“I didn’t have anything that didn’t require cooking.” She explained as she swirled frosting on the last of the cakes.

“Darling, these look amazing.” he looked at her, a slight pleading in his eyes.

“Yes you can have one.” she laughed, taking a plate from the cupboard for her pizza. As she slid 2 slices onto her plate, she heard a groan from behind her. She turned to see Henry chewing, his eyes closed in ecstasy, another moan reverberated from deep in his chest. “Do you two want to be alone?” she laughed.

His eyes met hers, “Darling, this is delicious. I think I’m going to have to call you cupcake from now on, instead of pumpkin.” He said following her to the table, the remaining portion of his cupcake held reverently in his hands.

“That would be ok.” She smiled, “I don’t actually care for pumpkins.” She watched as he took his second bite of cupcake, accompanied by another almost orgasmic groan. “You’re going to have to stop making those noises. They’re getting me quite excited, and I don’t have time right now to be going to the bedroom.”

“Darling these really are phenomenal.”

“I know. I’ve had them. There’s a reason why I’ve done wedding cupcakes for 4 weddings now. But thank you.” She gave him a quick peck on the lips before standing. “Now I’m going to finish the last of these cakes, you’re welcome to sit in here and keep me company, but you don’t have to.”

Henry sat at one of the kitchen table chairs, watching Lucy finish her baking, frosting, and decorating. They chatted about the last few days since they’d last seen each other. Once she’d finished her clean-up and the cupcakes were safely tucked into the refrigerator, Lucy turned off the light in the kitchen and turned to Henry, and pulled him to his feet.

“That wasn’t really how I wanted to welcome you.” she said unbuttoning the first couple of buttons of his flannel shirt, and pressing a kiss to the skin exposed there.

“Oh really? What did you have in mind?” He asked, wrapping his arms around her, to cup her bottom, starting to walk them toward the bedroom.

“Well, I have some of that frosting leftover…” she trailed off, pointing to the small bowl she’d left on the counter. Her laugh came out as a squeak, as he picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, as he snatched the bowl of frosting and carried her to the bedroom.

Chapter 39                  Chapter 41

[notveryglittery]

trampoline

summary: moral of the story: don’t leave patton and roman alone when they’re bored.  words: 1,779 |  ships: platonic royality & moxiety. platonic lamp.  warnings: roman and patton acting like drunk fraternity boys, panicking notes: this one was so much fun. inspired by this post from @prinxietys!! “theo-doze-a” nickname from @katatles-the-fish‘s post here!

read on ao3! | read more incorrect quotes ficlets! 

It was any other day in the Mindscape.

Logan was in his room, working on various schedules. Thomas had spent the last few days visiting his parents and as such, had been in full on relaxation mode. Not much had gotten done and the Sides, for the most part, hadn’t minded. Now, though, Logan felt it necessary to make up for lost time, and was making plans for the last few weeks of the month. No one blamed him for wanting to be ahead of the game and Virgil, in fact, encouraged it. They all understood that it’d help Virgil out in the long run and so even Roman and Patton had left Logan alone. His door was open, just in case, and classical music could be heard drifting down the hallway.

Virgil, meanwhile, was in the Commons. While he’d normally spend this time in his own room, listening to music or a podcast, he had decided the living room might be more comfortable today. He had taken up most of the space on the coffee table, with various adult coloring books. He preferred colored pencils but there were crayons and markers available to him as well. Roman had provided the mediums where Patton had offered the art. Instead of listening with headphones in like usual, Virgil had his music playing quietly through the speakers of his phone. Sunlight spilled into the room through the open blinds.

Patton and Roman, ever the extroverts, thought spending their time alone sounded dreadful, and as such, were in the kitchen together. They’d already baked three batches of cookies (chocolate chip, snickerdoodle, and oatmeal raisin) and were working on a double layer cake. It’d be frosted with buttercream and they’d decorate it with pink flowers and raspberries and it was going to be delicious and beautiful. Their baking spree came to a halt, however, when Roman slipped out of his long sleeved maroon henley and down to the simple tank top underneath. It’d been getting warm in the kitchen, what with the oven on for so long. Patton found himself distracted by Roman’s arms and a thought came to him quite suddenly.

“Roman,” he began slowly, setting down the piping bag he’d started to fill. “You’re strong, aren’t you?”

Roman had seemed confused for hardly a second before he was beaming at Patton, looking a perfect mix of delighted and cocky. He made it work, somehow. 

“Of course!” He boasted, flexing. Patton swooned a little. “As a Prince, I must be in order to rescue damsels in distress!” He continued to show off before Patton’s curious, yet slightly mischievous, look caught his attention.

“In that case…” Patton peeked around Roman and into the living room, where Virgil was still distracted by his coloring. He leaned in closer to Roman and whispered, rather conspiratorially, “how far do you think you could throw me?”

They tried to be careful as they snuck out the front door but their giggling caught Virgil’s attention. It might also have had something to do with the bad feeling he had suddenly in the pit of his stomach. He followed the pair outside, from a distance, and rolled his eyes at how utterly unaware they were. Virgil watched as Roman first conjured a trampoline; he couldn’t hear them debating on how far or close to put it to the house, but he got the idea after they moved it a couple times. That bad feeling intensified when Roman created a ladder next and gestured grandly for Patton to climb up it first.

Before Roman could follow, Virgil darted forward and caught him by the wrist.

 “What are you two up to?” He asked, not meaning to sound distrustful. He must’ve failed at it because Roman pulled away, looking slightly insulted.

“We’re testing my strength!” Roman defended. “You have absolutely nothing to worry about!” 

With that, he ascended the ladder after Patton, and before Virgil could follow, snapped it back out of existence.

“Roman, I swear...” Virgil muttered darkly, before bolting back into the house.

Meanwhile, Logan had closed his door and was laying down on his bed. He’d decided a break to rest his eyes would be advantageous, and was admiring the swirling galaxy that was his ceiling. It was quiet and peaceful and— 

The sound of footsteps bounding up the staircase and down the hallway pulled him from his reverie. He’d just sat up when the door slammed open, banging against the wall.

“Virgil,” Logan said, “what ever has gotten into you?”

Out of breath, Virgil gestured wildly back to where he’d come from. 

“Roman… is about to… yeet Patton… off the roof!” He was shouting, or trying to at least, while sucking in lungfuls of air. “Onto a trampoline!” He inhaled sharply one last time before approaching Logan, who’d had yet to move, and grabbing his arm. He yanked him off the bed and out of the room. “You’ve got to stop them.”

Logan stumbled after Virgil, whose grip wasn’t loosening any, and adjusted his glasses as they went. 

“I don’t know how you expect them to listen to me.” Logan sighed as Virgil led them down the steps. “You know how those two get once they’ve got an idea.”

 They continued outside and around to the back of the house. The trampoline had been relocated a few more times and they could hear Patton laughing.

Virgil finally let go of Logan and began to pace nervously.

“Roman, Patton,” Logan called, cupping his hands around his mouth. “I’d like to speak with you, please.”

“Oh great,” Roman yelled, peering over the edge of the roof. “You went and told on us?!” He shot Virgil a look of betrayal.

Patton appeared next to Roman and waved. “Hi, Logan!”

“If I recall correctly, to “yeet” is to throw an object forcefully over a long distance.”

Virgil groaned. “Yes, Logan.”

“Ten points to Ravenclaw!” Patton cheered.

“Am I to understand that you plan on throwing Patton off of the roof and onto this trampoline?”

“Yes, Logan, congratulations.” Roman said in a tone entirely too mocking given the situation.

“Have you considered how reckless and dangerous that is?”

“Aww, Lo! It’ll be okay!” Patton reassured. Virgil wanted to scream. “Roman’s super strong! And I’m the softest puffball we got!”

“Patton,” Virgil clasped his hands together as if he were begging, and honestly, he was this close. “Please do not do this.”

“We’re doing this, Theodozea!” Roman argued. “He’ll be fine! Won’t you, Patton?”

Patton nodded rapidly, glasses going slightly askew from the motion. 

“Here!” He said suddenly, pointing to the trampoline, and snapping his own fingers. A plethora of blankets and pillows appeared, covering the surface so thoroughly that it was a good thing there was a net surrounding the frame to keep them from spilling over. “Is that better?”

“Patton,” Virgil repeated, voice pitching higher, and sounding extremely distressed.

Without warning, Roman scooped Patton up into his arms. He squealed excitedly. 

“Ready, darling?” Roman asked, striding to the edge of the roof closest to where the trampoline was set up. 

“Roman!” Virgil snapped, finally having apparently reached his limit. “Roman, I swear to God, if you throw him off that roof—!”

“Honestly, you two, I fail to see how this is beneficial in any way, whatsoever.”

Roman spun in a few circles, as if trying to gain momentum, before he swung his arms out, and tossed Patton over the roof. Virgil screamed. Logan’s gasp came out strangled, as if he was properly surprised Roman had actually gone through with this ridiculous plan. Patton let out a peal of laughter, tucking his legs against his chest. He went flying through the air and Virgil felt his heart trying to beat itself out of his chest.

“Patton!!” he cried, rushing towards the trampoline. “Patton, oh my God, Patton, fuck, fuck, fuck.” His hands were shaking terribly as he watched Patton disappear into the pile of cushioning. Logan was following, face gone pale.

Before anything else could happen, Patton burst out of the nest of blankets and looked around gleefully. 

“Judges?!” He exclaimed, as if Virgil and Logan would rate his landing.

“Patton, move over!” Roman called from the roof. While he backed up to get a running start, Patton scrambled out of the middle of the trampoline and off to the side.

“Oh, for…” Logan mumbled, sounding like he was going to be sick.

“Roman, no!” Virgil’s voice cracked, hands reaching uselessly up, as if he could stop Roman from launching himself off the roof and onto the trampoline. 

Roman was stupidly graceful in his movements and Virgil was going to murder him for the unnecessary backflip, among many other things. Much like Patton, he vanished underneath the padding, before appearing again, hair an absolute disaster, and out of breath.

Roman snapped his fingers and the trampoline dematerialized. He and Patton and Patton’s pillows and blankets landed on the grass. Patton fell over, laughing himself silly.

“I hate you both,” Virgil panted. He allowed Patton to reach forward and take his hand, pulling him into the pile. 

“We aren’t friends anymore,” he insisted, “unfollowed, blocked, reported.” As he went on, he wrapped Patton tighter and tighter in his arms, until there was absolutely no chance of Patton getting away.

Roman crossed his arms, pouting. “See! He’s fine! I told you there was no need to worry!”

“You did no such thing,” Logan pointed out. 

Virgil could have mentioned that Roman did say so, before Logan had arrived, but he had no intention of standing up for Roman right about now. Logan stood out of reach so that he couldn’t be dragged into the cuddling. 

“Are you finished with all of…” He gestured to the mess, “this? I have more important things to be dealing with.”

Roman huffed. “Sure, yeah, fine, whatever.” 

He moved to join Virgil and Patton in their snuggling but Virgil pierced him with an absolutely murderous glare. Holding his hands up in surrender, he sighed in a very long-suffering sort of way. 

“I get it. Not your favorite person right now.” Still, Roman smiled sweetly at Patton as he stood. “I’ll go get those cakes ready to decorate, dearest.”

Patton nodded happily, still quite content to be enveloped in Virgil’s arms. Once the two were alone, Patton gently nudged his nose against Virgil’s neck. Virgil shuddered at the contact but held Patton all the more, as if the touch was further proof that Patton was okay, safe, alive. 

“Sorry to scare you, kiddo,” Patton apologized.

“Just promise it won’t happen again?” Virgil requested, rocking them back and forth a bit.

“I promise,” Patton agreed.