#like I’m not joking when I say new recipe box just for y’all

[tennessoui]

soup update pls !!!!!

I am always willing to talk about soups and especially the recipes y’all sent me

I think I need a separate recipe box just for yalls recipes because holy shit every one I’ve tried is going to be saved!!!

A quick disclaimer is that most of the soup recipes I got were for many people and I am one people so there were a lot of leftovers and I also live in a house with roommates who like to freeze 2 things of raw chicken (big) and 5 containers of meal prep so there’s not a lot of room for ME and MY food in the freezer (it’s fine I’m fine I’m over it I’m fine)

So I’ve only made 3 soup recipes so far because I sort of have to eat all the leftovers before I can make new soups because I can’t really freeze any—but they’ve been so good! I made the broccoli cheddar anon soup, the potato/leek blended soup, and the moong dal palak recipe I was sent. they were so good and also so chewable my mouth thanks everyone 🙏

[rintarous]

fuckboy!osamu

[ masterlist ]

kageyama | kita | suna | tendou

oh everyone already knows

him and his brother are notorious for their reputation of being the school resident pretty boys

it was inevitable

he had the looks and everything else u dont have

and not to mention he’s a jock or a volleyball player lmao

bonus points: he can cook

so its safe to assume he knows how to win any woman’s heart

or the entire school population

like he got everyone by the palm of his hand

in all seriousness he did this whole fuckboy act as big joke

cs he wanted to mock his brother for doing this shit so seriously like its his job to be a fuckboy

osamu: are you doing this to pay rent?

atsumu: wha? what rent? we live with our parents??????

he even wonders why atsumu wont give the same energy to his studies and shit

“why don’t you have the same energy when doing your school works ‘tsumu?” he casually brings up as he was doing his homework unlike his brother who’s busy texting 5 different people at the same time

“fuck off ‘samu” his brother grumbles from his bunk (bottom bunk)

and now he’s stuck with all these little to no good people just wanting to fuck him for practically nothing  

so he gotta keep this act of being suave and shit but if you looked more closer in his eyes,,,, 

hes showing signs that he wants to fucking die 

literally and figuratively 

like he just wants to eat his food and go

without being mobbed by people

occasionally he’ll see someone cute and pretty and thats it

but a fuckboy gotta do what they gotta do yk??

by that i mean take them out on small dates

cs he doesnt see the point in fucking them

and like i said before, he doesn’t even take his reputation seriously lol

so in all fairness, he’d just take that “fling” out on dates and shit 

and then he lets the fling do its thing by falling for him 

and BAM!! he’s done w you

“next fling please” he laughs to himself, as if his flings are just some receipt you get from eating at a restaurant 

but all the fuckboy-ery of his ended when he began to take notice of you

like he noticed your lunch box had different fillings everyday

making his mouth water out of envy

like how??? do??? you?? make?? those?? weird??? looking?? shrimp?? look?? so?? appetizing????

anyway so,

obviously you knew about the miya twins’ reputation

you must be living under a rock if you didnt know who they were

but you being you, u just focused on making your lunch tasting good instead of drooling over those mediocre lookin dudes if you say so yourself

what you didn’t know is that you caught no other than miya osamu’s attention

JUST BECAUSE OF YOUR FUCKIN BENTO BOXES LMFAOOOOO

one day osamu casually slid in your table looking at you with wide eyes

“hey” osamu greets politely

“at least this twin has manners” you thought to yourself as you stared right back at him in confusion

“did you need something from me?” you raised a brow at the grey haired boy

osamu shakes his head and points to your bento box of the day

“those look good. i want to try some” he says boldly, mouth watering staring at the golden brown tempura 

“sure” you pushed your bento box near him and he started eating

and boi i think he just fell in love with you on the spot

“A GIRL WHO CAN COOK?????” was basically the thought that was running in his head the entire time

so after that amazing lunch he had with you, he knew he had to get your contact so y’all can text each other abt recipes and what not

“hey this shit was amazing and i want to get your number so you can text me what your lunch is for the day so i can come up with something that could counter yours if thats okay?” osamu asked with his mouth full

“hey don’t talk with your mouth is full” you scold him playfully, grabbing your hanky and wiping those stray rice on the corner of his lips

OKAY OSAMU’S HEART RATE JUST WENT: ASHADKJAHAJK 

!!!!!!!!!!!!

so a few days pass by and y’all were just non stop texting each other food related shit

“hey wyd” - u

 “cooking onigiris, hbu?” - osamu

“OOH SHOW ME” - u

and y’all be having a blast doe cs osamu was actually rlly funny?? 

like his dry humor was top notch and made you choke in front of him too many times for him to count

and osamu was just dreamily staring at you while you almost die right in front of him like: mhmmmm thats my girl

wait

MY GIRL??????

yeah so at this point osamu got the hots for u bae 

like u’re all he thinks about

with the exception of food of course

i mean how could he not??

you can cook, you look pretty, you take his sarcasm to the next level and reply with something even more sarcastic?? all in one

and he was trying to think of a way to ask you out on a date but only one thing came to mind 

and that was to take a italian cuisine cooking class

LFMAOSJDISAJDAO

“oh yeah before i forget, i booked us to this italian cooking class i saw on the way home yesterday” 

and your eyes sparkles cs you absolutely love learning new recipes 

“omg??? i’m so excited!!” you giggled, feeling giddy

and osamu again,, just smiles dreamily staring at you 

but that had to be ruined by the school bell ringing meaning lunch was over :(((

“have to go now ‘samu. i’ll see you around” you waved goodbye to him as you rush to your next class

so the day finally comes

he picks you up at your house just like planned and before you know it you’ve arrived at the italian cooking class 

so it starts kinda slow like learning the basics and shit

and finally the good part, the part y’all make pasta

you two were having a blast on this lil class

like osamu making pasta puns here and there as you knead the dough

and thats where you start noticing how,,, c*te osamu is like,, was he always this playful?? 

“hey y/n?” osamu calls out

“yeah?” you turned your head to face him

“i’m feeling a little saucy” he wiggles his eyebrows making you burst out laughing

“You are tortellini awesome, ‘samu” you managed to hiccup in between laughs

making osamu smile so widely to the point his cheeks hurt

“This is pastably the worst pasta pun i’ve ever heard!” osamu points out

at this point you two were hysterical 

it was just too... punny ;) 

“I’m so gnocchi to have you” osamu suddenly quips up

“how so?” you smiled, while stirring the pot

“You are tortellini beautiful” he compliments, stroking a finger on your cheek making you blush intently

“how ramentic” you coo, giving him a kiss on the cheek

“Holy Cannelloni!“ osamu gasps, cupping the cheek you kissed

“i’m guessing this whole class was just a date to ask me out?” you chuckled, fixing up your dish

now it was osamu’s turn to blush

“That is tortellini accurate.“ 

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 146

Whew, on a roll with queuing these up!  Kind of proud of myself.

Speaking of proud... So many familiar names in the notes this week!  Y’all are giving me a huge smile during a super busy week/month. Work has been bananas, weekends have been insane, and knowing that all of you are reading and enjoying the story gives me the encouragement I need to keep writing and to make the effort to keep the quality as consistent as possible.

All of you literally encourage me to take care of myself :)  Thank you so much. 

And, always, thank you to @baelpenrose, @charlylimph-blog, and @the-raven-fae, for everything you do, from beta-reading, to giving me stuff to read, to just keeping me reasonably sane. 

I huffed as I put down the box of blankets in our new quarters. With our expected drop from hyperspace getting closer, we had finally been assigned quarters closer to the Archives.  Xiomara and Tyche had both told me I was being ‘too nice’ by having Maverick put in the transfer request rather than doing it myself, but I still didn’t think it was fair to use my unwilling position on the Council as leverage to get bumped to the front of the line. After all, we had a few months to go, and with everything else going on, it wasn’t like I was in a hurry.

“Conor, be careful!” Maverick scolded as a box of dishes landed on the regrettably-smaller counter. “You’ll break them!”

“Mav, I love you to pieces,” Conor grunted and stretched his back. “But I want to point out again that we can just recycle broken ones and request new ones.” Completely contradictory to his own words, he wrapped the other man in a crushing hug and whispered something in his ear.

When Maverick gave him a skeptical look, Conor opened the box and pulled out a chipped plate. “The ones on the bottom are the ones with no chips, cracks, or stains. Promise.”

Hang on. “You let Conor pack the dishes, but you only let me pack the blankets?!”  I was honestly hurt.

Maverick kicked the floor gently, his way of showing embarrassment. “I was worried I would break them, and you know how attached I am to the chipped plates, and I knew he wouldn’t get rid of them….”

“Baby,” I whispered. “Babe. It’s okay. I like the chipped ones, too. I would never get rid of those…” I held out a hand to see if he was receptive to a hug. When he tugged my hand, I squished his waist the best I could.

“You’re so particular with the clothes, though…”

“Because I despise pills against my skin.” I shuddered at the thought. “They feel… dirty.”

I could feel him shudder in agreement. “They do, don’t they?”

Conor gave us both a squish and shook his head, chin rubbing against us both. “Just leave my shirts alone, yeah?”

Maverick’s agreement with my philosophy nearly vibrated my soul. He never notices when we replace the pit-stained ones, it’s all okay. We both casually replaced the never-ceasing rotation of Conor’s white shirts when they were dirty past the point of laundering, but made a point to leave the permanently grungy coveralls until they either gained enough sentience to run away or fell apart in despair.

“Your shirts and Brenda, promise,” I tried to swear as solemnly as possible. ‘Brenda’ was the tilandsia xerographica that he had gifted me that first Insert Winter Holiday. She was currently twelve inches, and was the third love of Conor’s life.

He nodded before releasing us. “Mav, the silverware is still by the door so you can make sure everything is in the right place. Sophia, I’ll put up the clothes if you’ll sort where you want the blankets.” Without another word, he palmed the thermostat control and adjusted it to the agreed-upon settings we had maintained for years in our shared quarters. “Head’s up, once I get the clothes sorted, I gotta go help Sam and Derek move.”

My neck cramped from the speed I whipped around to look at him. “Derek and Sam are moving?”

Maverick nodded, his chin against my scalp. “They mutually requested relocation to stay in similar proximity to our quarters… specifically to Mac.”

I rolled my eyes. “It is absolutely to be close to Mac. Not my blanket, not soup on tap, not Conor’s plants - “

“They’re your plants, love.”

“Tell the plants that,” I joked. “You keep them alive.”

He muttered something that sounded distinctly like ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ as he gently set a box under Brenda’s stand and started unpacking spritz bottles, fertilizers, and the world’s tiniest pruning shears.

I can honestly say I did not laugh.  With the exception of the shears, all six spray bottles, the soaking tub, and the three different fertilizers had actually lived with me longer than he had. “The point is that I’m sure they aren’t just moving to be closer to Mac… he roams the entire Ark, so it’s a pretty lame excuse.”

Maverick and Conor both shrugged before the former spoke. “Sam likes how you cook his produce. And it’s a long walk from our previous quarters.”

“I am not going to apologize that his strawberries go better in ketchup, or that his tomatoes make amazing ice cream,” I waved off. “I know it’s a side effect of using the known composition of Von’s soil and light, but… the strawberries are orange. Like a bell pepper.”

“But the tomato soup from his tomatoes is amazing,” Conor granted. “None of us even like tomato soup.” I opened my mouth to argue, but he cut me off. “The one recipe you like, Sophie, proves my point, it’s not an argument. It’s the only recipe you don’t….” He gestured vaguely. “You know.”

“Zhuzh,” I provided. “I don’t zhuzh it.”

Somewhat out of nowhere, Maverick sat down in the new but familiar armchair and asked, “Is it expected to have a housewarming when you live in the same… building… ship… thingie… but moved quarters?”

“I - “ Gaping, I turned to them both. “I’m not sure. I mean… we celebrated when you two moved into my quarters, but that was more a… wedding-slash-engagement thing. Have we been invited to any for just moving?”

Conor shrugged. “All the moves were done in the first few years to settle down. Nothing like this.”

I tapped my chin before pulling up my datapad. “I’m seeing that a total of fifty people - fifty, really? - have been relocated, just to be closer to the Archives.” I took a couple of deep breaths. “I know it’s the furthest Protection Zone from the rest of the ship, but there are only fifteen people sheltering there, not counting Tyche and Alistair.”

Maverick gaped at me before waving both hands widely. “You moved, so a total of five people relocated down here, which we were just discussing, and you don’t understand how fifteen people turned into fifty?” He scowled. “Sophie, I know you can do math.”

I glared at him. “Given the nature of relationships on the Ark, I thought it would be higher, smartass.” I leaned over to kiss his chin. “But that also makes me think… block party? Take the pressure off of us?”

Conor looked thoughtfully at both of us. “I think we should put up curtains, or - you know, soft barriers, something visible but easy to navigate - for the apartments where folks can duck and cover from being wound up too much?”

He had a good point. “Just to be clear,” I ventured, “you just mean the apartments that people already know they can duck into?”

Conor’s enthusiastic nod dropped mine and Mav’s shoulders by a solid two inches. “Yeah, color code them or put proximity alerts on them, something. I don’t think anyone overstimmed wants to wander into a room full of strangers, right? Derek would know he can walk in here, straight to our bed, pile up under the blankets, and he’s fine, but… what if he walks into another person’s bedroom? Fuck all, I’ll kill someone.”

He had a point. I hated that he had a point, but he was right.

“We’re purple, right?”

Conor and Maverick collectively rolled their eyes hard enough to make my head cramp. “Duh,” was the only response Maverick gave, while Conor just shook his head.

It was only a week later that they had the door to our old quarters repainted and retextured,  and had the doors to our new quarters painted screaming purple with green and black stripes.  Just to be clear, apparently.

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[loveyhoneydovey]

Dating Sam and Joaquín headcanons

Note: I was trying to write headcanons and I couldn't pick which one of them I wanted to write about, so I was like "why not both?" So here's the result, it's a mess and I wrote this at 3AM, I'm so sorry 💀

All my stories are written with a bisexual reader of colour in mind, but anyone else is more than welcome to read them

Sam Wilson x Joaquín Torres x fem!Reader

Warnings: slight mention of injuries, SMUT (lots of filth i'm sorry)

· listen omg, constant entertainment from all three of you, like one of you is always up to something

· ok so i think it started out with only sam and torres

· they had been dating for a while before they first met you, their new neighbour

· you know how torres was fanboying over sam?? yeah, that was nothing compared to how you felt when you first met them

· like maybe you were struggling with the boxes you were carrying during your move because they were so full

· sam and joaquín were on their way home from their morning jog when they saw you, and what kind of people would they be if they didn’t help their cute new neighbour

· when they first introduce themselves, you’re just grateful to see the people in your new building are nice. You also felt like they looked super familiar

· they could see the gears turning in your head when they’d first introduced themselves. Both theorizing about how long it would take you to realize

· and then after like 2 minutes, it hits you, and you feel so dumb

· you try to remain calm and collected since you didn’t want them to think you were crazy or feel like they couldn’t be comfortable in their own home

· they were super chill too, you noticed joaquín was the more talkative one, while sam was content with letting his boyfriend take charge of the convo

· by the end of it you ended up agreeing to hang out together, you promised them baked goods as a thank you for their help

· you’d totally stuttered a few times, and half the time you were staring at them with heart eyes (which joaquín was not used to but sam was jngercewdc have y’all not seen the way torres looks at him whenever they interact?)

· you end up forming a relationship with them, which eventually morphs into something more

· none of you had ever had more than a partner before, so you were all figuring it out together

· torres would be so chaotic. So organized on the field, yet so clumsy at home

· sam is the one that has his shit together (not always but definitely most of the time)

· and when you start dating them, they quickly realize you’re even clumsier than joaquín, and sam’s like “oh no, there’s two of them now”

· ok let’s talk about the good stuff now

· so many freaking cuddles

· post-mission cuddles are a thing in this relationship

· just the three of you laying in bed, holding each other, tracing patterns on each other’s skin, enjoying each other’s presence

· both of them LOVE having their hair played with. only difference is sam has a bit of difficulty asking for it while joaquín will put his head on your lap and put your hand on his hair

· if they come home with minor injuries, you help them clean treat their wounds. The first time this happened, you only had avengers themed band aids (which torres LOVES), so from that point on you only buy those

· on lazy days, after some lazy morning sex, all three of you like to spend the day baking new recipes and eating them in bed

· joaquín getting whip cream on the corner of his lips and on his cheek

· sam making fun of him before you tell him he also has some on his nose

· sam putting whip cream on your face when you least expect it to get revenge

· tickle fights, they used to team up against you until an elbow was once accidentally thrown and someone got a black eye

· you and joaquín love taking cute pics of sam when he’s not looking. He noticed it eventually but never said anything because he thought it was adorable

· both you and joaquín coming home with stray animals and trying to convince sam to let you keep them

· and of course he’s gonna say yes, you two had perfected your puppy eye technique

· he’s that kind of person who says no to getting a pet, then ends up spoiling it more than you and joaquín combined

· you never need a blanket when you’re around them, especially around sam because they’re always so warm

· movie night dates always ended in the three of you doing anything but watching the movie

· both of them flying you with their wings at least once

· you calling them captain and lieutenant in public to tease them

· messing with them by acting like a fan who’s never met them

· like at one point you buy a poster of each one of them and go up to them and you’re like “i’m a big fan, may I get an autograph”, which makes them roll their eyes

· dude they’re also both so playful. Always cracking jokes and even competing to see who’ll come up with the best joke

· the three of you always know you have a home with the two others, and that you can always openly talk about your problems and insecurities without fearing each other’s reactions

· I think sam is the one that has a harder time asking for help. so you and joaquín are more attentive to his body language and any other signs that might reveal that he’s feeling down

· it breaks your heart because he was always taking care of you, joaquín and everyone else, and you needed him to know he was important too

· you decide one day that the three of you should go on vacation every once in a while, because you’d all been working so hard and deserved a little peace

· (also bc shitless sam and shirtless torres)

· imagine eventually they’d give you their dog tags as a way of proposing 🥺 i’m melting

· you had a little ceremony while on a tropical vacation with your closest friends and your pets and had the time of your lives

· you knew you technically couldn’t legally get married, but that didn’t matter. You wouldn’t have it any other way

NSFW headcanons

· now let’s get into the filthy stuff

· whenever you act up, you usually do it around joaquín, because you knew he’d have a harder time saying no or disciplining you

· and he knew you were using that to your advantage, he saw right through it

· yet most of the time it worked

· sam was more of a no nonsense type of person, so if you wanted to break the rules and act like a big girl, he was going to treat you like one

· sam is the ultimate brat tamer and you can’t convince me otherwise

· as a punishment, he loved making you ride his thigh (have y’all seen this man’s thighs? three course meal), but not letting you cum

· whenever you’d whine or pout, he’d remind you that you brought this on yourself

· while joaquín would try to get him to go easy on you, because he took pity on you and kinda has a soft spot for you

· until one day you made the mistake of pushing him too far

· maybe you’d felt like they weren’t giving enough attention, so you threatened to go get it somewhere else. Maybe you even brought up how you could go to that one friend who had a crush on you (you definitely weren’t going to, but you knew how to push their buttons)

· whether you were planning on following through with that threat of not didn’t matter

· you got the punishment of your life on that day

· he’d edged you for hours, to the point where you were crying and trembling and begging him to cum

· so he made you cum, non-stop

· “you wanted me to let you cum, didn’t you? Now take it like a good girl”

· even sam is SHOOK, now he almost took pity on you

· by the time they’re done with you you can barely remember your own name

· they took you to pound town 😌

· ALSO, you’re all switches, and sometimes you enjoy cuffing one of them or being the one giving out the orders

· I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, torres has a praise kink and LOVES being called a good boy

· Sam has one as well, but it’s more discreet

· likes being told how good he’s making the two of you feel, how no one else can do it like him

· ok but aftercare with them would be so soft

· you’re all super attentive to each other’s needs and usually know if it’s time for a bubble bath and cuddles or if you want to be held and drift to sleep

· lazy morning sex!!! just the three of you taking your time, exploring each other without a rush and not worrying about the outside world

· if they’re on a mission together and have a bit of free time, expect lots of nudes and teasing

· or sometimes even videos, which you find not fair because they have each other and you’re all alone

· NFJDNVEF imagine you buy them one of those clone a willy kits as a joke 💀💀💀 but you end up actually using them

· you know how they gave you their dog tags? yeah it drives them crazy whenever they’re fucking you or you’re riding them and they see the tags bounce

· especially those times where you’d wake them up in the middle of the night because you had a wet dream and couldn’t wait till the next morning. Where the only light entering your room would be provided by the moon, sometimes shining on the tags they gave you

· … imagine sometimes two of you decide to team up against the third and compete to see who’ll give them more orgasms 👀the loser has to do whatever the winner wants

· Jdfvfds lord this is such a long mess i’m so sorry

· in conclusion, there would never be a dull moment with those two and they’d be the sweetest, gentlest partners

Tags: @bury-my-love-inthe-moondust

[buckys-other-punk]

Christmas Lies

Pairing: Chris Evans x Assistant!Reader

Request: I was thinking of Sebastian Stan/Chris Evans x (assistant) reader where reader is originally from another country and is living alone and is going to celebrate the holidays and made up an excuse  that she's celebrating with someone and is in the middle of prepping her Christmas eve dinner and was caught red handed that she's celebrating alone?😅😅 

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: cussing and some cliche fluff (the title may fool you but yes this is fluff)

A/N: Hello my loves! Wooo another request, I hope I did this justice and sorry if this sucks. I am a little late for a Christmas fic but hey its still the Christmas season right? Anyways here is a cute Christmas fic for y’all (Merry late Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Happy New Years!) As always please lemme know if you wanna be tagged in my future works and feedback is very much appreciated. This is unedited so don’t mind those mistakes. 

Tis the season right? Yeah the season for stress and anxiety. A season where people had to find the perfect gifts for one another and hope that their gifts weren’t sold out. Luckily for you, you didn’t have to worry about that. Moving to the United States from your home country over two years ago it seemed pretty lonely, but more freeing than ever. You didn’t have any relatives that lived in America, but occasionally some would fly over to visit you. Sadly this year you were alone for the holidays. Your parents won a vacation to the Bahamas for the holidays and your older brother was expecting his first born anytime now. The rest of your family had various holiday plans and wanted to celebrate in your home country. So yeah, this year you were going to enjoy your own company.

“So do you have any plans for Thursday night?” Chris, your boss asked you.

“What’s happening Thursday?” you asked looking at him with confusion.

“Y/N, it’s Christmas Eve!” He exclaimed with a big smile.

“Oh fuck. Umm, well not really.” you shrugged. 

“Well you already know my plans. I gotta go to that party my brother wants me to attend.” Chris huffed out.

“Speaking of your brother, I got a call from him asking you to bring a date to said party.” you said to the man.

“Why don’t you come with me.” he said with a smirk.

This wasn’t the first time Chris has asked you to come with him to parties. Hell he asked you every time he was invited to one, but you always turned him down. He was your boss for crying out loud, wouldn’t it seem inappropriate to bring your assistant as your date? But, you weren’t gonna lie that the man was attractive, sweet, and you may or may not have a crush on him. He’s fucking Chris Evans. Shaking your head trying to think of a cover up of your actual plans for the night, which was nothing, and rejecting his offer just because well you don’t even know. 

“You know what, my cousin from my home country is actually visiting for a bit before she heads off to see her boyfriend in Hawaii.” you lied telling the man. Why were you lying again? Right, saving yourself from embarrassment.

“Oh, well that’s nice of her to stop by. I bet you’re gonna make a big feast.” Chris mumbled as he sipped his cup of coffee.

“You know I’m not gonna quit Y/N, you’re gonna have to go on a date with me someday.” he teased nodding your way.

“Yeah whatever.” you breathed out while rolling your eyes focusing back on your work. 

*Christmas Eve*

You were glad that the nearest grocery store was still open for you to grab some last minute ingredients for your dinner. Making a random stew recipe you found online that sounded pretty good and some brownies for dessert. Right when you got home you started making your brownies, from scratch, and once the batter was complete you put it into a tray and in the oven. You went to your room to change into your black Nike spandex shorts (since you haven’t done laundry and this was the only thing that was clean) and an oversized sweatshirt you stole from your brother before you moved to America. You weren’t trying to impress anyone since you were again alone for the holidays. Heading to the kitchen you began cutting the vegetables for your stew and boiling the broth when you heard your doorbell ring. 

“Please don’t be carolers. Please don’t be carolers.” you muttered to yourself crossing your fingers as you walked over to the door. When you opened the door you saw your boss standing in front of you wearing a black suit, looking handsome as fuck. “Chris, don’t you look nice. What are you doing here?” you said without any expression to the man.

“Y/N, you’re looking festive without pants.” he smirked, staring at you up and down.

“Fuck off. I’m wearing shorts underneath. Seriously, why are you here?” you asked again.

“I ditched my brother to hang out with you and your cousin.” he said smiling. 

“Oh thats so nice of you, but you didn’t have to come all this way.” you said trying to change the subject.

“What, that's ridiculous. I also forgot to give you your Christmas present.” he stated showing the nicely wrapped box that he hid behind his back. “Where is your cousin by the way?” Chris asked, trying to peek around your apartment.

“Oh, Mel? She’s in my room video chatting with her parents.” you lied pointing behind you.

“Aren’t you gonna let me in?” he asked.

“Yeah, sorry. Where are my manners.” you said moving out of the way for him to enter your home.

“Thanks.” he smiled as he stepped in again looking around your place. “Um, Y/N.” he said.

“Yeah, what’s up?” you asked as you shut the door behind you.

“Something smells like it's burning.” he stated looking back at you.

“Shit my brownies!!” you yelled as you ran to your kitchen. You put on your oven mitts and took out the burnt dessert and placed it onto your countertop. “Damn it!” you exclaimed.

“You forgot to put a timer on, didn't you.” Chris chuckled as he walked towards the kitchen bar island.

“Shut up.” you huffed shaking your head.

“Hey Y/N.” he started, drawing your attention back to him and not the burnt disaster. “You said your cousin was here right?” he asked.

“Yeah, why?” you replied, not really paying attention to him placing the burnt tray in the trash ans cute veggies in a pot.

“Well two things. One, why is your dinner table set up with only one plate. And two, your bedroom light is off.” he said pointing at the table behind him.

“Fuck.” you whispered underneath your breath as you looked up at the man. “Maybe Mel fell asleep?” you said with a shrug.

“You lied!” he exclaimed looking at you. “You sneaky shit! Why did you lie to me?”

“Because you’re my boss and I can.” you sassily said back with your hands on your hips.

“Y/N.” he said more sternly.

“Fine.” you said as you raised your hands in defeat. You walked around the counter towards your couch motioning Chris to follow you, which he did. “I lied because I didn’t want to go with you to the party.”

“Why not?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“Because. I don’t know. Isn’t it a little inappropriate that your date to a fancy party is your assistant?” you sheepishly asked averting your eyes from the man that sat next to you.

“Y/N, that’s a bullshit reason and you know it.” he cursed at you. “Tell me the truth.”

“Fine!” you said, taking a deep breath. “Honestly Chris, I kinda have a crush on you and I didn’t want to look stupid in front of your celebrity friends.” you shrugged looking away at the man.

“Now that wasn’t so hard was it?” he said quietly and he gently grabbed your chin to make you look up at him. “I’m glad you told me the truth Y/N.”

“What no snarky remark? No cheesy comeback?” you questioned.

“Nope.” he said with a smile.

“That’s it?” you asked looking into his greenish blue eyes.

“Yup that's it.” he smirked, staring at you.

“Hold up. I just confessed to you, my boss, that I have a crush on you and you’re not goin-” you started, but was cut off when you felt lips crash into yours. As Chris pulled away your eyes were still closed and your mind was in disbelief. Slowly opening your eyes, you stared at the man in front of you.

“Umm..did that..What just?” you were slightly panicking. Chris noted the panic. So he leaned in again and kissed you. This time you were aware that your boss was kissing you. Holy shit your boss, no fuck that CHRIS EVANS IS KISSING YOU! His eyes were closed and his hands were placed at your waist. As he began to pull away, you put your arms around his neck pulling him back towards you to deepen the kiss. The two of you pulled away, your foreheads still pressed together as you looked into each others eyes.

“Wait is that your Christmas tree?” Chris teased, still staring at you as he pointed at the small tree on the ground next to your record player. You leaned back and turned your head to look at your tree.

“Yeah, what’s wrong with it?” you asked, looking back at him.

“It’s kinda pathetic.” he joked, placing his arm over the back of your couch.

“Hey! That was the first tree I bought when I moved over here!” you yelled in defense playfully punching his arm.

“It’s cute is what I meant to say.” he chuckled, rubbing his arm.

“Whatever.” you said shaking your head. “Are we gonna talk about that kiss?” you asked.

“Why don’t you open your present first?” he replied.

“You're ignoring my question, but fine.” you huffed out a bit irritated. “Wait, did you wrap this?” you asked, looking at gift wrapped in green paper.

“Actually you did a while back.” he said rubbing the back of his head. “I was hoping you forgot about it and luckily you did.” Chris added chuckling.

“I don’t deserve whatever this is Chris. I didn’t even get you anything!” you exclaimed with wide eyes.

“That kiss was plenty enough.” he grinned towards you.

“Shut up, I’m serious.” you sighed and looked down at the gift.

“Stop moping and just open the damn thing.” Chris said, lifting your chin up and pointed towards the present.

“Alright fine.” you stated back, slowly undoing the elegant wrapping you worked so hard on. As you opened the present it was a box that said ‘Thank you for helping me get my shit together!’ You laughed at the note looking back at Chris.

“Open the box.” he smiled trying to hold in his excitement. You opened the box and inside was filled with confetti paper and a card at the center. You took the card out saying ‘I kind of sort of maybe like you a lot’ with a heart underneath. You looked back at the man who nodded signaling you to open the card. Inside of the card it said ‘will you go out with me? P.s. here’s $100 for you. No pressure;)’ A hundred dollar bill was taped at the bottom of the card.

“Is the money a bribe?” you asked.

“Nah, it's just for reassurance.” he answered chuckling. You laughed and took out the bill from the card.

“I went through all this work, wrapping a present beautifully, just to get one hundred dollars in return.” you said seriously.

“Well, if you don’t like the present I can always take it back.” he said upset.

“Chris I’m messing with you.” you smiled as you pulled him close to you placing a kiss on his lips. “I would love to go out with you.” you said.

“Oh thank god!” Chris exhaled pulling you close into a hug.

“I better be getting more money outta this relationship!” you teased as you were engulfed in the man’s embrace feeling the vibrations of his laughter.

A/N: This was so cliche i hate it lol. Anyways did you like this late Christmas fic? lemme know! Again if you wanna be tagged in future fics, have any requests or just wanna chat hit me up! 

Tags: @lostinthoughtsandfeelings​ @sebtheromanianprince​​ @aquabrie​ @who-the-hell-is-sebastianstan @princess76179​​ @anbrax5553​​ @wintersoldierissucharide @caplanbuckybarnes​​ @miraclesoflove​​ @kitkatd7​ @saiyanprincessswanie​​ @fandomsandxfiles​ @hailmary-yramliah​ @coffeebooksandfandom​​ @thefallenbibliophilequote​​

^please lemme know if you wanna be added/removed for future tags or if i forgot you^

[katnissmellarkkk]

Okayyyy here comes the next chapter ! Number .... lemme look. Okay, number six! 🥳🥳🥳

And yes, my thoughts as usual will be a messy, very Everlark-biased and full of typos. Letsss gooooo 🥰🥰🥰

Is this the first time Katniss and Peeta have been to their floor or is this just the most opportune time to explain and introduce the Tribute Center living quarters?

Also why are they called tributes anyway? That word suddenly seems weird to me after nine years... 🤔🤔🤔

“I've ridden the elevator a couple of times in the Justice Building back in District 12. Once to receive the medal for my father's death and then yesterday to say my final goodbyes to my friends and family” .... 😶😶 so only good memories and connotations to elevators then, huh?

“The walls of this elevator are made of crystal so that you can watch the people on the ground floor shrink to ants as you shoot up into the air.” My mind is just imagining the elevator in Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone’s Spider-Man movies 🤗.

“It's exhilarating and I'm tempted to ask Effie Trinket if we can ride it again, but somehow that seems childish” this is so cute and innocent omg. Katniss, like I said in my last chapter blog, still has some childlike innocence left in her 🥺🥺🥺. I’m a sad.

Also excuse the unnecessary extra gif use but 🤭🤭🤭

Oh wow, so Haymitch hasn’t been around since they were on the train? No wonder neither Katniss nor Peeta fled they could trust him for basically the entirety of the first book. 😐😐😐

You know it’s bad when Effie being around feels like a blessing to Katniss. Girl has more restraint than me, I’d have ripped off this woman’s janky wig by now without remorse. 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️

Effie acts like they’re her purebred show dogs. I know I know how is this news, that’s a blatant fact. The movies really softened her up tho for the general audience. And I bleed the movies and books together more than I should 😔😔😔

Well at least she’s made herself useful, trying to get Everlark sponsors ... even if it’s ultimately to benefit herself above anyone else .... 😤

Effie calling Twelve barbaric while she’s preparing them for the slaughter isn’t even ironic it’s like literally just brainless. Johanna probably had the nickname floating around for a lot of people before she officially knighted Katniss with it 😭

“Everyone has their reservations, naturally. You being from the coal district.” Is this how they refer to Twelve? So basically if a district makes a better item, it’s a more worthy one in the Capitol’s eyes? So essentially, if District Eight made like diamonds or pearls or whatever then it would be more worthy? So are the districts assigned their numbers (one, two, three, four, etc) based on their order of importance to the Capitol’s lifestyle? I always thought it was based on their distance in relation to the Capitol? Okay so I didn’t really pay much attention to these facts previously when I read these books ok look away I’m an idiot

Omg 😭😭😭😭 Effie is such an idiot. But the coal turns to pearls thing is my favorite line from her only because it serves as the cutest inside joke when Peeta makes a callback to it in Catching Fire and Finnick is just like “why are these two teenagers so stupid who did I ally with? 🥵😳🥵😳🥵”

“I wonder if the people she's been plugging us to all day either know or care.” After reading Songbirds and Snakes, I’m sure they don’t have a clue, boo. 😑😑😑😑 although not everyone was an idiot back then ... maybe Snow is putting lead in the drinking water?

“But don't worry, I'll get him to the table at gunpoint if necessary.” I know she’s trying to help and I know we say this kind of thing today, but considering this is two kids she’s well aware will be heading into a death match this is just bad wording I know surprise surprise 🙄🙄🙄😬😬😬😬

“Although lacking in many departments, Effie Trinket has a certain determination I have to admire.” Katniss really does see the best in people. What’s sad, y’all, is I think Katniss unconsciously really tries to like people and that’s why she has her guard up so high. Because the softer you are, the easier people will step all over you. Terrible phrasing here, Samantha, I’m so sorry to any of my readers ... okay now that sounded arrogant, implying I have readers 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤣😅🤣😅🤣😅

“My quarters are larger than our entire house back home.” Omg? I mean, yes, I knew this already obviously no duh but like also. Just the fact that three people live in a space smaller than a bedroom and bathroom arena is saddy sad sad. Also do they have indoor plumbing in the Seam or is their backyards just full of—okay, I’ll see myself out. 😶🤭😅🙃

“The shower alone has a panel with more than a hundred options you can choose regulating water temperature, pressure, soaps, shampoos, scents, oils, and massaging sponges.” I’m just imagining a Spongebob scene ngl.

I’m sorry there’s so many gifs this time around it’s probably taking us out of the reading headspace I’ll never do it again 😩😩😩😩 I talk like I have a class of people listening to me 🤭🤭🤭

“Instead of struggling with the knots in my wet hair, I merely place my hand on a box that sends a current through my scalp, untangling, parting, and drying my hair almost instantly” I need this someone invent this NOW my brush is yanking out my hair 😔😩

“I program the closet for an outfit to my taste.” ‘Yes, Alexa, I’d like a hunting jacket, some boots and a green shirt. Yes, it can be brown.’

“You need only whisper a type of food from a gigantic menu into a mouthpiece and it appears, hot and steamy, before you in less than a minute.” I like this idea because it means that Peeta could order hot choccy to comfort Katniss after her nightmares in Catching Fire from the comfort of her their own bed. 🤗🤗🤗 also I want this for myself. The bad people are giving my greedy self ideas look away everyone 😬

“I walk around the room eating goose liver and puffy bread until there's a knock on the door.” 🤢🤢🤢🤢 Of everything you could have chosen, child, this is what you decided on? Someone help my girl and her rotten tastebuds now.

“Effie's calling me to dinner. Good. I'm starving.” Baby, you were just eating. She’s so nutritionally messed up. 😔😔😔

Katniss trying wine 🥳🥳🥳 she’s so funny, trying to find a way to improve the taste 😅. She’ll make a good taste tester for her baker husband one day.

Hahahaha Katniss not liking the feeling and judging Haymitch for always being tipsy. Also this is sad because she ends up addicted to morphling later one which is far worse than a little wine.

I’m glad to know Baked Alaska survived the apocalypse 😅🥳

Katniss just constantly trying to decipher the recipe of every meal and how to recreate it reads cute on a surface level but it’s actually so tragic because everything to this girl is based around food. Like even more than is typically noticed. They really should have given a hint at this in the first movie. Good thing she marries a man who can always keep her full.

I’m just forever side-eyeing you, Gare Bear.

That’s Gary Ross for the confused kids in the back.

Why does Katniss yelling mid-sentence, “oh! I know you!” add to her innocence? 🥺 it’s because she was overwhelmed by all the food and new luxuries she’d never even been able to imagine ... and also this is pre her first games so she’s still got some childhood left in her 😩😔

I wonder how Lavinia felt seeing Katniss volunteer and knowing she’d be her Avox? I wonder if she, like Cinna, somehow volunteered to be her Avox?

I mean ... talk about convenient placement that this specific girl was assigned to Katniss’ district—oh wait, y’all, I just caught myself. She’s from Twelve. She was assigned to Twelve’s tributes because she’s from there, duh. I’m such an airhead omg just call me Effie.

Don’t you actually dare.

“When I look back, the four adults are watching me like hawks.” Meanwhile, Peeta is just like 😬😬😬 eating his dinner.

Actually, ngl, this could be such a reach and it probably is but like maybe Peeta sensed a confrontation coming and, because of his implied upbringing, he naturally becomes silent or makes himself invisible when trouble starts looking like it’s gonna arise. 🥺🥺🥺 I don’t know why I say these things I’m just hurting my own feelings but ya know the drill. I thought it so I said it.

Why is Effie yelling at Katniss for saying she knows the Avox girl like omg overreaction much? And I know, the sky is blue 🙄🙄🙄 she’s prejudiced against basically everyone, I know, I know

Rip her wig off, Katty Deen 🤗🤗🤗

Oh I stupidly forgot that Avoxes are supposedly known by everyone to be traitors or criminals. So I suppose this isn’t Effie’s worst offense but I’m keeping a tally anyways

Katniss is blaming her stuttering on the wine but my girl just has social anxiety 😔😔😔

Peeta coming in with a save 😭😭😭 he’s already trying saving his girl 🤧

Alsoooo the unspoken friendship, the covering for the other and teaming up against the adults, is still riding high and going strong here 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 look away, y’all, the shipper comments are coming in strong

Also why is this the first real interaction with Peeta in this chapter yet? My baby needs more page-time 🤭🤭🤭

“Delly Cartwright is a pasty-faced, lumpy girl with yellowish hair who looks about as much like our server as a beetle does a butterfly.” Now why did Katniss just tear Delly to shreds for no reason at all 😭😭😭 this was a surprise assault on the poor girl 🙃🙃🙃🙃

“She may also be the friendliest person on the planet - she smiles constantly at everybody in school, even me.” Okay not to tie absolutely everything back to Peeta ... but to tie absolutely everything back to Peeta ... this description of poor, sweet Delly is actually indicative of Peeta’s character? Since Delly, we find out in Mockingjay, is Peeta’s childhood best friend, her personality being this sunny, kind, good-natured person tells us Peeta has always probably been somewhat like her and perhaps not as much like the other town kids Katniss implies to be stuck up or snooty. Maybe Katniss is just shady and deflects onto others 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️.

Also the fact that she gives this like ... mean description of Delly but saw Peeta as popular, even though surely Delly and Peeta spent time at school together, implies further that Katniss did indeed harbor a secret crush on Peeta even before the reaping. A very mild comparison of his on her though, of course 😅😅😅

“It must be the hair” “something about the eyes too” their piggybacking on the other’s comments really is just chiefs kiss 😘🤗🥰🤧 FYI I know the saying is chefs kiss but I made the typo once a long time ago and decided to add it forever to my brand 🤗🙃🥳

Also though this Everlark interaction is reminiscent of when two kids get caught by their teacher goofing off in class and covering for each other 🥰 only it’s a lot more deadly stakes

“A few of the other couples make a nice impression, but none of them can hold a candle to us.” She’s so modest 🤧🤧🤧 her narration here and during the Tribute Parade just has the vibes of ... well .... sorry in advance

Haymitch’s comment “Just the perfect touch of rebellion. Very nice” leads me to think he and Cinna and maybe Portia were always in cahoots about the rebellion even before Katniss and Peeta came along and well ... lit their match on fire 🥁🤗🤣🤭

Katniss is like “rebellion??? Rebellion where??? What’s that you old people speak of???” And yet, girlfriend goes out to the woods and hunts illegally every day of her life 🤣🤣🤣🤣.

“But when I remember the other couples, standing stiffly apart, never touching or acknowledging each other, as if their fellow tribute did not exist” too lazy too look it up but there’s a quote from Ballad about Lucy Gray and Jessup being distinguished by their visible friendship too that set them apart from the other tributes.

Either Suzanne thought of drawing a nice parallel showing what a failed Everlark attempt looks like, because I firmly stand by the fact that without their real feelings behind their act, even Katniss’ unconscious ones, they wouldn’t have pulled it off, or Suzzie just reused her own content. I prefer the former but I think it’s probably the latter 🤭🤭🤭

“Now go get some sleep while the grown-ups talk." I know Haymitch is being facetious here but this quote reminded me of the fact that the movies would have hit differently if they’d cast actual sixteen year olds in the roles.

“When we get to my door, he leans against the frame, not blocking my entrance exactly but insisting I pay attention to him.” This is such a flirty, high school boy pose, you cannot convince me otherwise 😭😭😭

Also I definitely feel like Peeta is getting more and more confident here because he’s oblivious to Katniss’ inner monologue as much as she is his actually we all are his sadly and he probably thinks she’s starting to like him 🤧🤧🤧

“So, Delly Cartwright. Imagine finding her lookalike here." 🤣 He honestly cracks me up idk why this line isn’t even special or that great. He’s just so ... subtly nosy / funny. Which brings me to that quote from Mockingjay where Katniss talks about his sense of humor because it’s one of the things she loves most about him 😭😭😭

But he’s like, “I can keep a secret, Katniss, tell me who that tongueless chick is to you 😬”

Katniss stop talking about debts, friends cover for the other all the time 🙄🙄 I know it’s in her character stop yelling at a fish for swimming that’s not a real phrase I know that too

Okay first of all, they’re about to share a secret 🥰🥰🥰🥰. My shipper goggles are on tight and obstructing my vision. I know this and am proud 😬🥳🤗

And secondly, “Maybe sharing a confidence will actually make him believe I see him as a friend.” Hey, butthead, you two are already friends. She doesn’t even recognize that the girl who constantly sits with her, talks to her, eats with her and trades with her is her friend either though, I’m shocked she calls Gale her friend

Does Peeta get to know Cinna too? I don’t think so but it’s mentioned now a couple times in this chapter alone that Peeta has interacted with Cinna. Katniss never interacts or has a conversation with Portia.... then again, is that even surprising? Katniss isn’t ... what you would call ... social. Hashtag relatable.

Awww, they’re communicating so effectively together 🥰😭🤧🥳

Also rooftops belong to Everlark only 😍😊😉 I mean, seriously, Katniss never goes up on a rooftop with anyone else. Besides Haymitch in the first movie but we ignore.

“Electricity in District 12 comes and goes, usually we only have it a few hours a day.” Earlier she said the Seam didn’t often have electricity, in particular, so either she’s not specifying her section of the district anymore or Suzanne is backtracking.

“But here there would be no shortage. Ever.” I’ve had two power outages recently so clearly the Capitol isn’t based on us currently today then 😐😐 I’m just joking ok

“I asked Cinna why they let us up here. Weren't they worried that some of the tributes might decide to jump right over the side?” .... boyfriend, where does your mind go sometimes? Peeta’s darker than we realize, y’all 🤭🤭🙃🙃

“He holds out his hand into seemingly empty space. There's a sharp zap and he jerks it back” between this and Catching Fire, Peeta is addicted to getting shocked by forcefields 🤧🤧🤧

“I wonder if we're supposed to be up here now, so late and alone.” If this was a romantic drama or comedy, that line would have meant something a lot more fun 😒😔😬😉😏

“On the other side of the dome, they've built a garden with flower beds and potted trees.” Is this meant to resemble Snow’s grandmother’s garden???? Like he had them put a garden there to like ... put a piece of his Grandma’am in the games? Idk this made zero sense it was a stupid thought

Two people in a garden at night, with wind chimes, sounds romantic in any other context. 🥺🥺

Ummm does everyone in the entire district know Katniss and her father used to hunt together?

Oh nevermind, Lavinia is not from District Twelve. My bad, guys. I should go up and edit my previous thoughts but that’s a lot of work. 😅😅😅

Katniss, stop being so hard on yourself. You and Gale were kids. 😣😣

Ummm, Katniss for a girl always complimenting Peeta’s storyteller, you’re pretty good at painting a picture yourself...

Peeta noticing she’s shivering 🥰🥺

He gives her ... his jacket 😭😭😭😭 such a romantic troupe Samantha, get over it there’s literally children dying

Oh wow, Lavinia was from the Capitol originally. Hmm, it is sus now that she got District Twelve this particular year.

But also 🤧🤧🤧 “he secures a button at my neck.”

His hands .... are .... often .... at her .... neck .... 😶😬 .... look away, y’all

Oh wow, Katniss is over here thinking, “who’d leave the Capitol if they were from here???” And Peeta’s like instantly, loudly, without hesitating, “well I would 🙋🏼‍♂️”

Hot take, y’all ready? Peeta was a bigger rebel than Katniss from the start. At least internally.

Awww, Peeta is so jealous 😭😭😭😭 and kind of nosy 🤭🤭🤭

Katniss : “me and Gale are not related” Peeta : “😬🙃😭😩😶”

“I'd set out to tell her I was sorry about dinner. [...] my apology runs much deeper. [...] I let the Capitol kill the boy and mutilate her without lifting a finger. Just like I was watching the Games.” I feel like this is actually a good comparison though, because of you grew up in a society where you have to watch kids die, your whole entire life you’ve watched it in a glorified television show, you would be really desensitized to it...

“You don't forget the face of the person who was your last hope.” Here she’s talking about Lavinia but it applies to Peeta too. Katniss was Lavinia’s last hope and she feels like she let her down but Peeta was her last hope once and he came through. And, as she said in chapter one, she’ll never forget him for it. And for other things too. Later on. 😏

Of course my last bullet point was focused on Everlark 🤣 is anyone surprised you shouldn’t be we all knew who this post was written by right? 😅

And once again, if too made through this marathon, congratulations 🥳🥳🥳🥳 maybe next chapter I’ll talk less not likely though so don’t count on it 😅

[sapphicmsmarvel]

Co-parenting with JJ

masterlist

-Co-parenting was a journey to say the least. 

-You met the kids after dating JJ for three months. You were both very nervous for it but the kids were adorably excited that their mom was dating. 

-Yes, people thought it was very soon that you were meeting her kids, but you guys were moving really quickly. 

-There was one awkward moment where Will walked into the house to drop off the boys and found you and her in her bed, after finding her bra in the living room. 

-Since then, you and Will got to know each other and became friends. Even though that first meeting was very awkward. He knew of you, he just never thought that’d be the way he met you.  

-Within a year, you had met each other's families, and you moved in together. 

-Many people were telling JJ that bringing you around the boys was dangerous because what if they got connected and then you two broke up and you would no longer be a parent figure for them.

-To which JJ responded with, “why wouldn’t we last long? What’s that supposed to mean?” 

-But the team never doubted your relationship. 

-The only time you guys get time together is when the boys have a weekend at their dads, sometimes he takes them for a week. 

-JJ brags about you all the time at work, always calls you the best stepmom and how the kids always call you mama and not Y/N. 

-JJ HATES it when people don’t consider you a parent figure just because you’re a stepmom. 

-You would die for JJ’s kids and she knows this. 

-You both write notes for the kids lunches.

-CARPOOL KARAOKES 

-Y’all have a whole playlist of family approved songs. 

-They love to help you guys cook, the thing is, you guys have no idea how to cook. You sit at the table every night that you make it home and talk about your days, the non scary parts at least. You guys experiment with new recipes as well. 

-But you bake like a queen according to them. It’s therapeutic to you. 

-You have a tradition of sunday morning breakfast. Homemade muffins, eggs, toast, bacon, the whole thing. 

-You are the baddest bitch on the playground at bake sales/school parties. 

-Parents on the PTA always gossiped about you and JJ. The two queer moms at the school. For living in DC, they were quite close minded. 

-Will and you went to a school party once, the kids were outside, you and a couple other parents were helping the teacher pick up.You and Will were joking around and messing with each other (as besties do) and some jerk said, “oh so Y/N is banging both parents huh?”

All the joking left Will’s expression, your blood ran cold. Will looked up calmly, “if you ever disrespect Y/N or Jennifer like that again, I will beat the shit out of you. Are we clear?” 

The guy looked at him shocked, then nodded, Will was terrifying when he was mad, let alone when someone messed with his girls.

-There’s been many times where JJ is on a case and you and Will have to take charge. 

-Will and you both agreed early on that the kids and JJ come first. You would not be petty with each other as you two had seen with other parents and stepparents . 

-Pretty soon you two became quite close. You even scared away his ex abusive girlfriend. 

JJ was out of town, one night while the boys were at Wills you got a call from him, “hey, Y/N.”

“Will, What's wrong?”

“You know Darcy?” 

“Yeah?” 

“She’s outside, demanding she comes in and we talk things through.”

You were already putting on your shoes, “what happened?”

“...she hit me.” 

“I’ll be there in a few.”

“Y/N, she’s crazy but I can't do anything with the boys here.”

“It’s a good thing i’m a psycho then huh?” You had grabbed your keys, “why didn’t you call the cops?” 

“I couldn’t risk the boys waking up. I don't want them to see this.” 

“They won’t. I’ll be staying over the rest of the night okay? I’m on my way.” 

You were nowhere near being a cop, an fbi agent or someone who seemed like she could fight. But the truth is, you’ve been boxing since you were ten. 

You raced up, “hey!” you shouted slamming the truck door. She walked towards you. 

“Who the fuck are you?” 

“Doesn’t matter. Leave.”

“What are you his baby momma?” She laughed. 

“Trust me if I was, you’d be in handcuffs right about now. Leave before things escalate.” You warned. 

“Or what?” She said, pushing your shoulders. 

That was all you needed. 

You punched her right in the nose. Grabbed her collar and shoved her against the truck. “You think you’re some scary chick huh? Believe me, I’m a hell of a lot scarier. Your social security number is ***-**-**** (i didn’t wanna risk putting random ass numbers in so just imagine this pls). You live on 1234 flowerfell lane 20001. Your phone number is 202-157-9876. And you work at Martinville research facilities. I really wouldn’t fuck with me sweetheart. I could fuck up your life with the push of a button. Now get out, if I ever hear of you again, I will make your life a living hell, got it?” You let her go and shoved her towards her car.  

You had never seen someone so afraid of you. She quickly ran to her car and raced away. 

When you saw she was gone, you turned to see Will in the doorway, looking haggard. You sighed and ran up to him. You quickly pulled him into a hug. 

“I got you,” you rubbed his back as he cried. 

“She ever comes here again, you call me.” You said as you rubbed his back. 

-When JJ heard about it she wanted to beat up the girl. She hugged both of you. 

Later that night she sat with you, “I’m really glad you were there for Will.” She whispered as she was leaning on your shoulder. 

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” 

“Most stepparents don’t like the ex-spouse. I’m so lucky to have you.” “I’m lucky to have you, and the boys and Will.” You kissed her head, “I’ll always be there, for all of you.”

[thiswasinevitableid]

64. I didn’t know my ex moved so you find me curled up on the floor in front of your apartment door

Ot4, nsfw, please!

Here you go!

Duck didn’t mean to fall asleep in front of her cave. But there was no one home and the rock in front of it is just the right temperature to coax him down into a nap in the spring sunshine.

“Um, can I help you?”

His nose tells him the voice belongs to another dragonborn before he opens his eyes. It’s just not the one he’s hoping for. Instead of blue scales and muscle, he finds blue eyes staring down at him while black and white scales glint in the afternoon light.

“Uh, I, uh, do you know the dragon who lives here?” He didn’t think she’d move on that fast.

“I am the dragon who lives here.” The other male adjusts the satchels on his shoulders, one laden with food and the other with books, “I moved in a week ago.”

“Well...fuck.” Duck slides off the rock with a groan, “sorry, didn’t know the place changed hands. Didn’t mean to, uh, crash on your front porch.”

“It’s okay. I was hoping to meet more of our kind here.” He writes a glyph on the door and it opens, “do you want to come in? I got some nice wine from town and, um” he scratches at the stone, “no one to share it with.”

“Sure.” Duck follows him through the familiar front hall and into the kitchen. The furniture is different, all clean lines and polished wood, and there’s new art on the walls. He reads the spines on the stack of history books on the table while his host pours them each a glass of wine.

“Thanks” he takes the goblet, “I’m uh, I’m Duck by the way. It’s a nickname.”

“Joseph.” The other dragon sits across from him, “I take your...ex lived here?”

“Yeah” Duck scratches the back of his neck, “we end things a month ago but, uh, I was missin her and I, uh, I, I, fuck, nevermind.”

Joseph sniffs the air, “surprise heat?”

Duck nods, “I was kinda hopin for, uh, for a pity fuck or somethin. Fuck, that sounds pathetic.” He rests his head in his hands.

“There’s no shame in wanting intimacy.”

“Guess not. Uh, enough about me, how’d you end up here?” He prays Joseph takes the hint.

“I travel around studying humans, trying to bring a greater understanding of them to our kind. My hope is it’ll help keep the peace, since we’re less likely to fear or attack things we understand. Kepler might be the place I settle; the town is a great mixture of dragon and human cultures.”

“So you just...study everythin they do?”

“Right now I’m focusing on technology. Hence the, um, the scars.”

“Oh shit” the white zigzags and bursts that Duck assumed were simply markings are, in fact, scars, “what happened?”

“Mostly minor accidents, like you’d get cooking or gardening. This one” he gestures to the white on his cheek, “is embarrassing; I was so engrossed in my research I didn’t notice the experiment I was running was about to go haywire.”

“Ouch.” He hazards a joke, “hate to see what your hoard is like, probably, uh, shock me.”

Joseph smiles, “I don’t really have one, it’s a pain to move it every time.”

“Not even a little pile?” Duck raises a brow; there’s a magpie-ish quality to the other dragon that suggests there’s a collection hiding somewhere.

A faint dusting of gold on his cheeks, “I do have a, um, a small stack of books.”

“Can I see?”

“Of course. This way.” He leads them to the master bedroom. A wave of unwelcome nostalgia hits Duck as he enters, and he’s about to excuse himself back to the kitchen when a giggle climbs up his throat.

“A small stack, huh?”

Joseph settles on the cushions at the center of three towering bookcases, each crammed full, “I don’t have that many. I once met a wyvern who had whole hills of books. I like them like this so I can actually find things.”

“Hate to say it Joe, but this is an honest to gods hoard.” Duck kneels near him.

“Joe....huh, I like it when you call me that. Normally I hate it. And it’s a library, not a hoard.”

“If you say so. Uh huh, what’s this?” He crawls to where a pile of puzzles toys and games is hidden between the bookcases, “seems like the makings of another ho--oh hell yeah” he grabs a box, “Minotaurs Riddle, I fuckin love this game. Haven’t played it in years, lent mine to a trio of centaurs and never got it back.”

“Do you want to play a few rounds? I, um, I don’t have anything urgent tonight but if you have things to do-”

“Nah, got all my shit taken care of early in case...uh, well, you know.” Humiliation at his earlier desperation rears its head.

Joseph drags a low table over, “Then it sounds like we could both use a night off.”

Three hours and two bottles of wine later, they locked in a stalemate, Duck scanning his cards for a way to break it. He’s never had this intense an opponent before and it’s so fucking fun.

“I play the hero's spear BUT” he flips a card facedown, “on my own chariot, which opens up the way for my chimera to attack.”

Joe’s eyes flick between his hand and the board, pupils no more than slits as he concentrates. Then he sets his cards all facedown, “I don’t have a counter-move, so you win.” His grin is fairytale perfect, “that was great! And now I know your method of play so I can beat you next time.”

“You wish.” Duck doesn’t mean to growl as deeply as he does.

“It’s not a wish, it’s a promise.” Joe boxes up the game without ever taking his eyes off Duck.

“If you say so. But if you break it” he curls his tail around to stroke black scales, “think I oughta get a prize.”

Joe’s responding click-growl is unfamiliar, could be anything from agreement to “leave me the fuck alone.” He starts to retract his tail only for Joe to close his claws around it.

“I think you should get one for your win tonight, too. You did come here in a, um, a certain state.”

“Ain’t you the polite one.” Duck shoves the table aside and prowls across the pillows, “offerin that stylish tail up for meWHOAH, fuck.” He laughs as Joe, lightning quick, lunges forward and traps him on his back.

“Sorry, I’ve been wanting to get my hands on you since you got here. Gods” he undoes the wrap at Duck’s waist with a hungry growl, “do you have any idea how hard it is to think strategically with all of this” he runs his palms up Duck’s chest, “on display. Once I’m done give your body the attention it deserves, then I’ll put my ass in the air for you.”

“You drive a hard bargain Joe, but I’ll take it.” He grins as the other dragon gropes his thighs.

“Good. Besides, this is a proven way of getting over heartbreak.”

“Think that theory might need a little more testin. So get down here and kiss me.”

------------------------------------------------------

“Interesting.” Joe taps the bottle with a claw as he studies the ship inside it, “you really don’t know how they do it?”

“No fuckin clue. I can build model ships outside bottles, but this? This is wild to me.”

“I wonder if we-” Joe raises his head, inhales, and breaks into a dazzling smile, “dinner’s here! You can come in Barclay, we’re in the sunroom.”

Footsteps on stone announce the cook, who Duck usually sees at Amnesty Lodge down in Kepler.

“Didn’t know y’all did delivery.”

Barclay sets a bag crammed with tins and bottles onto the table, “We don’t usually, but Joseph’s a special case.”

Duck spots the blush on his friend’s cheek, “Oh yeah?”

“He, uh, he lets me test new recipes on him?” Two pink patches bloom under Barclays' beard, “there’s a berry custard tart in there today.”

“Sounds wonderful.” Joe’s tail is subtly twitching, “do you want to stay a bit and eat?”

“I’d love to, but I gotta get back before the dinner rush.”

“Right, right, of course, oh, right, your tip” the dragon darts into his study, returns a moment later with a small purse of coins, “here you go, thank you so much it, I’ll be ready for our cooking lesson on Tuesday and, um, it’s always nice to see you.”

Barclay pockets the money, smiles softly, “you too, Joseph. Bye Duck, see you in town.”

Joe watches him go long after he’s out of sight. When he turns around with a sigh, Duck smirks.

“You got it bad, Joe.”

“I know.” He slumps down in a chair, “I think he feels the same way but I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. Coming out to a dragon’s lair and getting hit on, all while you’re at work? It would stress me out if I was human.”

“You pay him for those cooking lessons?”

“No. I, um, I guess I could ask him then but dragon/human relations are understudied outside of things like midnight weddings. I’m not even sure how something like sex would work, if it would work at all. The books I have on it are out of date and, honestly, most likely written by dragonborns who never had firsthand experience.”

Duck stands, circles the table to drape his arms over Joe’s shoulders and nose his neck, “You could still just ask. Learn what he likes instead of fussin over research.”

“You’re right. I’ll ask. Eventually. Maybe.”

He chuckles and nips a sensitive patch of scales, “It’s a start.”

----------------------------------

Duck’s busy in the back garden when the chanting starts. It sounds enough like an angry mob that he draws the thicket of brambles across the door to be safe before heading for the second floor and the window to the front yard.

The crowd isn’t from Kepler, people there know he isn’t much for offerings or other forms of intervention into human affairs. He inherited his position from a true dragon who was once considered a forest and weather god. It took years for humans who came to understand that while he could help them identify what was killing their orchards or blighting their fields, he couldn’t summon rain or quash frosts.

Not only do the humans out front seem unaware of those facts, they’re constructing a convoluted, cobbled-together, ceremony. There are offerings of food, but the chants have something to do with slaking his deep hunger. Which is weird, because when you offer food to a dragon it’s meant as a gesture of kinship, not fear. The music doesn’t match either of those dynamics, the robes on the elders are white, which indicates surrender in war, and the incense they’re lighting is too heady; if he eats with it in the air, all he’ll taste is myrrh.

Wait, those are the bundles of incense humans used to burn during weddings. No one’s held a midnight wedding in decades. And holding one when it’s not yet sunset is really baffling. He’s about to write it off as yet more cultural miscommunication when two men drag a bound figure, all dressed in black, out from the crowd and drop it near the door.

“Fuck.” He tromps down the stairs, peers through the thicket for a closer look. The figure is a young man, dirtied silver hair tangled across his face and shattered red spectacles on his nose. His ankles and wrists are tied, and when he tries to scoot back from the cave entrance the crowd jeers. The man looks sluggishly between the crowd and the cave. Resigned, he crawls Duck’s way.

The dragon sets a hand on the thicket to will it away and tell everyone to get lost when he scents blood beneath the incense. Members of the crowd are getting agitated, suggesting they light a pyre to hurry the process along. That’s not even remotely how a midnight wedding works, and were Duck a certain other dragon he might tell them that. Instead, he makes a gap at the bottom of the thicket, grabs an enchanted rope from his work closet, and whips it through the opening. Two seconds later he has a cheering crowd outside his house and a petrified sacrifice inside it.

He kneels, undoing his rope and the bonds. The humans brown eyes lock onto his claws.

“Please. Please just make it quick.” His voice is raw, his pleas continuous, but he doesn’t pull back when Duck cups his chin and touches his forehead.

“Fuck, you’re burnin up. Your eyes a pretty glassy too, wonder if-”

“Drugged. To keep me from running or fighting. Not like they needed to. They, they did enough before that.” He hiccups and Duck smells exactly what plants they put into the mixture. They’re meant to make the human body more pliant. More receptive.

Fuckers.

“Okay” Duck keeps his voice soft, “here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna take you somewhere you can lie down and look you over. Once you’re patched up, you can rest.”

He nods as Duck scoops him into his arms, “Need my strength.”

“Yeah, but not for, uh, for what you think.” He nudges the light with his elbow, illuminating the rumpled green of his bed. When he sets the human down on it, he tucks his arms across his chest.

“Can you get your shirt off for me?”

The man reaches one skinny arm under his back, whaps it about, then shakes his head. Duck eases him upright, let’s him slump forward onto his shoulder why he undoes the eyehooks and buttons. The sight that awaits him is grim.

“Fuck, what’d they have against you?” He counts gashes from four different instruments intermingled with bruises in every color.

“Outsider. Came looking for work. Angered the wrong person.”

“They get you on your legs too?”

A weaks nod.

“I’m gonna have to slice the pants off; got a bad feelin I might re-open wounds if I try to pull ‘em free.” He runs a clawtip up the outside of one leg; the human grips him, afraid, though when he runs a thumb soothingly up a newly-bare spot, he sighs happily. Duck’s instinct is right; there are half-healed wounds now oozing blood thanks to the man being tossed about. He instructs the human to lay on his belly, fetches his bandages and disinfectant from the bathroom, and starts water for the tea that will clear the potion from his system.

When he starts on the wounds on his back the human whimpers, weakly clutching the blanket.

“Shhh, it’s okay sweet thing. Know it hurts, but you’ll feel better soon.” He runs the claws of his free hand through silver hair, undoing tangles as he goes. He is sweet; long legs and wiry arms, a face that’s odd but impossible to look away from. Duck wishes he were a worse dragon than he is; he could slip his threadbare underwear down and relieve the effects of the potion another way. Instead he patches and cleans, tips tea between parched lips, and finds one of his smaller robes to protect the skinny frame from falls oncoming chill. When he’s done, the young man is asleep. So he draws the blankets up and goes to sleep in the garden.

---------------------------------------------

His body feels like it’s been through a wine press. No doubt a result of the dragon “marrying him.”

No, wait. He’d taken him to bed, run his claws tenderly through his hair, but then he’d tended his injuries and let him sleep unmolested. Indrid rubs his forehead, wishing his foresight hadn’t been so weakened by his weeks in jail; it would be nice to know if this is a sign the dragon is harmless or if he just prefers his food uninfected.

The bedroom door slides open and a scaly figure walks in, nose firmly in a book. It’s not the same dragon as yesterday; this one is sleek, with midnight scales and long, narrow horns. The one who tended him was bulkier, with scales like a forest viewed from above, dozens of greens and golds melding together. His horns were shorter, Indrid remembers because in his fevered state he wanted to rub them. They looked soothing to touch.

“Oh, good morning.” The dragon closes his book, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I just came in for some scale oil and I’ll be out of your hair.” He grabs a purple bottle from a shelf.

“Wait, please.” Indrid struggles to sit up, “can, can you tell me what’s going on?”

“We were sort of hoping you could enlighten us. From Duck’s description, your delivery was so garbled he couldn’t figure out what they wanted. Or, um, it was clear what they wanted done to you, but not why it should be or why they chose him.”

Indrid’s about to answer when a second voice drawls, “Joe, you better not be pesterin our guest with questions.”

The black dragon looks over his shoulder into the hall with a sly grin, “He asked me first.”

“Uh huh, a likely story.” The green dragon, Duck, steps into the room, pausing to kiss Joseph’s cheek. Oh gods, Indrid understands now; he wasn’t fucked or eaten yesterday because Duck was waiting to share him.

“Since you’re up we can--whoa, whoa what’s wrong?” Duck kneels by the bed as Indrid tries to scramble backwards.

Joseph sets his book and bottle down, “You still think you’re dinner, don’t you?”

“Wh-why shouldn’t I?” Indrid pulls the blanket up to shield himself.

“For starters, we don’t eat humans. And we sure as hells don’t fuck ‘em without them bein’ real eager. Even then, some of us stall.” Duck gives Joe a pointed look, “beyond that, someone dropped you here after torturin you. You need lookin after more than anything.”

“We should get these fixed too” Joseph picks up his shattered glasses, “I might have what we need in my workshop, or we could go into Kepler-”

“We’re near Kepler? Thank the gods.” Indrid slumps against the wall, “It was the last place I stopped before things went south. I should have just stayed there. Instead I got it into my head to keep travelling, find an enchanter to train under and got...well, you saw.”

Duck carefully sits on the bed, as far from Indrid as possible, “Yeah, I did. I promise, nothin like that’s ever gonna happen to you again.”

“And if you’re interested in learning magic, most dragons have some. I’d be happy to share what I know if you’re willing to assist in my research.”

“That means makin sure he don’t fall asleep too close to his experiments.”

Indrid has no idea what those experiments might be, but he decides he’s very willing to find out.

----------------------------------------

Voices echo from the back garden, so Barclay curves left instead of going to the front of Duck’s home. Joseph asked him to bring his next few meals here since he’s helping Duck with an “unexpected house guest.”

He’s anticipating another dragon, almost drops his cargo when he sees how wrong he is.

“Indrid?”

“Barclay! I, when Joseph mentioned we were getting dinner from town I hoped it was the Lodge but seeing you is better still.” The other man is in a thick sweater and is wearing one of Duck’s wraps as a makeshift skirt, “I’d get up to hug you but I’m a bit weak at the moment.”

“I got you.” He sets the bags down and leans in for an embrace.

“I’m glad you fellas know each other.”

Barclay remembers burying his fingers in fine, silver hair while Indrid kissed him and worked his clever fingers inside him, promising he’d make him feel wonderful. He did. Every time.

“Yeah.” He blushes, spots Joseph registering this information and--knowing him--storing it away for later.

He was already making frequent trips to see the dragons, but as weeks give way to months he finds that whenever he’s not working, his feet ache to wander up into the hills.

Tonight, he and Joseph made dinner for the four of them (Indrid’s taken up residence in Duck’s home, and the dragon seems deeply uninterested in making him move). The dragons are on dish duty, so he and Indrid wander back to the library where Joseph has lit a fire.

“You really ought to tell him how you feel.”

“Is it that obvious?” Barclay fiddles with the bracelet on his wrist.

“Very. Then again, I know what desire looks like on you.” Indrid bumps their shoulders together playfully.

“But he’s, uh, he’s got Duck. He wouldn’t want a human, no matter how much we like each other.”

Indrid wordlessly moves to the bookshelves, smile widening as he finds a tome bound in blue leather and brings it back to the rug, “I found this when I was fetching books for him the other day.”

“Holy fuck” Barclay stares at the drawings, faded and labeled with draconic runes but undeniably that of a dragonborn fucking the living hells out of a very happy knight.

“I believe it tells the story of a knight who agrees to take a fair maiden's place as an offering and ends up enjoying his new station in life. It’s clearly been read often, though the anatomy is off in places.” He indicates a drawing in which it’s obvious the human doesn’t have balls to go with his enormous cock.

Barclay wants to say something witty, but all he can think about is gripping Joseph’s horns while he twines his tongue around Barclay’s cock.

“Yes, it’s giving me ideas too.” In the firelight, Indrid’s uncovered, brown eyes are almost red.

“Yeah?” Barclay sets a hand on his knee, “I’m no dragon but, uh-”

Indrid leans in, kissing him gently, “While dragons have their appeal, you are what I want right now.”

Barclay lets himself be pulled to the ground and is suddenly very glad dinner required so many dishes.

------------------------------------------------------------

“I didn’t realize you’d be taking notes while you did this.” Indrid smiles, amused, as Joseph scribbles something at the top of a fresh page. They’re heading down the hall in Duck’s home, Indrid having agreed to be the subject of a very exciting day of research.

“I’m not. Not, not that I’m uninterested but, um, since I need to be able to observe everything, Duck will be the one actually fucking you.”

Indrid stops dead, heart fluttering in his chest, “He...is he just doing this as a favor to you?”

Joseph smiles, shakes his head, and Indrid understands that he was reading all the times Duck looked him over with those green eyes correctly.

They reach the bedroom and step across the threshold wearing twin expressions of confusion; Duck forgoes nesting in favor of a bed, but the mattress, a dozen blankets, and every pillow in the house are now on the floor, the dragon busily arranging and rearranging them. Then he sniffs the air and turns, pinning Indrid to the spot with a toothy grin.

“Why the nest?” Joseph drags a chair across the floor and positions it between the pillows and the fireplace.

“Dunno, ever since you told me that today was the day, I’ve had the itch to build one. Gotta make sure you’re comfortable, sweet thing.” Duck holds out his hand and Indrid reaches for it.

“Not yet. Indrid, please undress so I can make some notes.”

“You’re killin me here Joe.” Duck growls as Indrid moves towards the chair, peeling off layers until he’s naked. Joseph scribbles some notes. Indrid would feel like a scientific specimen were it not for the way the pupils in those blue eyes dilate each time he looks at him.

“I just need some measurements.” He pulls a ruler from the pocket of the notebook and kneels down, gingerly taking Indrid’s cock in his palm.

“I, I should mention that is generally frowned upon when it’s just humans.” Indrid squirms as hot breath skates up the sensitive skin.

“Humans are touchy about size.” Duck adds, settling his claws on Indrid’s hips from behind. He’s good foot and a half taller than the human, which always makes Indrid feels safe in his embrace; those have been more frequent these last few weeks, Indrid using the cold weather as an excuse to cuddle with the living furnace whose home he shares.

“Hmmm, if they have less genital variation than dragons, I could see how size would become the point of competition.”

“Variation?”

“Dragons got all kinds of set-ups” Duck grinds against Indrid’s ass, “Joe and I happen to have the same kind, where we can lay in someone and get, uh, laid in if we want.”

“Laying?” Indrid squeaks, “I, I’m not opposed but I’m not prepared either.”

“Nah, won’t do none of that today.” Duck blows hot breath down the back of his neck, “if you want, we can try some other time. Can even let Joe take notes. And if he’s good” Duck rests his chin atop Indrid’s head and looks down, “I’ll even save some for him.”

Joseph’s head snaps up, eyes wide, and for an instant Indrid expects to be sandwiched between two dragons, which sounds deliciously warm. Then Joseph collects himself, “Yes. I’d, um, I’d like that. But for now, I need one more measurement” his tongue flicks the air near the head of Indrid’s cock, “may I?”

“Please. Ohhhhhhhyes” He moans as Joseph licks his shaft, “that’s lovely, so veryOHgods” he bucks his hips as Duck digs his claws into the meat of his thighs.

“That’s very helpful, Duck, he’s getting wonderfully hard.”

“I aim to please. Now hurry up before I start fuckin him here and fuck up your data.”

“Just a second..there, done. Duck, please kneel, Indrid do the same but keep facing me.”

“Yessir.” Duck pulls them both to the floor. Claws spread his ass open and the tip of one pokes the base of the plug he put in earlier, “heh, you let Joe help you with this?”

“N-no” Indrid cranes his neck back for a kiss.

“I didn’t want to overstep.” Joseph replies matter-of-factly.

Indrid runs his mouth along Duck’s jaw, “next time I’ll make him warm me up with his tongue before putting it in.”

A moan from the chair as Duck rumbles, “good thinkin, he’s fuckin incredible with his tongue. But you better let me watch.”

“Of course.”

Fabric shifts behind him and then Duck’s wrap falls to the floor. The plug joins it and then a solid, ridged cock is teasing his cheeks.

“You ready, sweet thing?”

“Yes.” Indrid pushes his ass back, whines when only the first half-inch is pushed in.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get the whole thing. Just gotta go slow, don’t wanna hurt my mate.” Duck pauses, “huh, sorry, that just came out.”

“I don’t mind.” Indrid sets his hands on top of the dragon’s.

“Fascinating.” Joseph scribbles more notes.

“You like the idea of bein my mate?” The question is shy, Duck hiding his face in Indrid’s neck.

“So very much. You make me so happy, Duck, you take such good care of meEEEoh, oh I see.” He snickers as Duck thrusts shallowly and laps at his throat, “you like being a good mate, don’t you sweetheart?”

“Fuck yeah. Wanted to, to do this months ago, wanted, when they gave you to me I wanted to climb into bed with you, fuck you sweet and slow and tell you nothin was gonna hurt you now, that you were all mine, keep this cute little body safe under the covers. Under me.” He thrusts several inches at once and Indrid moans, bounces in his lap in search of more, Duck click-growling each time he pushes down.

“Please, please, I want it all, Duck, pleasepleaseAH, AHhnnnngods” he grabs Duck’s arms as they wrap around him, the dragon bottoming out with a groan.

“Holy shit.” Joseph stares at them, and Indrid follows his gaze down to his lower belly, where the outline of Duck’s cock is unmistakable.

“Oh I like that a great deal.” He whispers, biting his lip as the outline slowly moves.

“Me too. Fuck, fuckin love how small you are, you barely fit on my dick and you’re still beggin for it.”

“How could I not?” Indrid purrs, relaxing against Duck’s chest, “this is going to sound very silly, sweetheart, but please, please” he tips his head up to kiss Duck’s chin, “take me?”

A tender, deep purr, then “anythin’ you want, sugar.”

Indrid lets his mouth fall open, spilling moans across the floor as Duck fucks him with abandon. It’s so much, almost too much, but it’s all he wants, to be taken and cared for by the magnificent, loving creature behind him.

The stretch and drag of Duck inside him is so intense he barely registers his own orgasm, though he cums hard enough to splatter some on Joseph’s leg. Then he’s holding on and whimpering as Duck spills into him, hotter than a human and so plentiful it drips down his thighs before the dragon even pulls out.

“Got what you need?” Duck pants, still holding Indrid to him.

“Yes.” Joseph is purring, gaze drinking in the two of them.

“Good. C’mon, sweet thing, let’s do see how my nest holds up to me mating the fuck outta you.”

-----------------------------------------

Duck said it was fine to use the glyph to come in without knocking, so that’s what Barclay does. He sets the cake he made in the kitchen, wanders down the hall in search of the others. They weren’t at Joseph’s, so odds are good they’re here. Muffled voices direct him towards the bedroom, but when he arrives his libido kicks all sensible thoughts from his mind.

There’s a giant mound of cushions on the floor, at the middle of which he can see Duck’s tail, the spines of his back and, occasionally, his head. Indrid’s feet and calves are just visible, so limp he’d worry he was asleep except for the little moans he knows quite well. And sitting by the fire, watching the scene with an obvious tent in his lap, is Joseph.

Two scales snouts snap up into the air. Duck notices him, whispers something to Indrid, who waves and then pulls the dragon back down. The same can not be said for Joseph, who is licking his lips like he’s just seen a gourmet meal.

Barclay smirks, moves to the chair but stays standing, stroking one horn as he does, “I’m not interrupting research, am I?”

“Um” Joseph’s cheeks go golden, “yes and no. I, I really was making notes at first but for the last hour it’s been, um, hard to focus.”

“Wonder why. Wait, holy fuck, they’ve been doing this for an hour?”

“One hour and twenty-four minutes.”

“Knew Indrid had stamina but that’s impressive. Uh” he trails a finger up Joseph’s leg, scales as smooth as he’d hoped, “how long have you been dealing with this?”

“Most of that time.” Joseph’s breath catches charmingly as Barclay straddles him.

“Babe” he kisses the warm column of his neck, stopping to pay special attention to each scar, “I know you’re dedicated to your work, but I’m pretty sure they’d let you join them.”

“I didn’t want to be rude.”

“My polite dragon” Barclay nuzzles his cheek, “you still deserve to be taken care of, you know that, right?”

Joseph nods, tips his head to the side so Barclay can nibble his throat while undoing his wrap. What he finds is spectacular; a pointed cock with circular ridges and, beneath it, a slit just begging for his tongue to tease it. But since he’s not done kissing him yet, he adjusts his balance so he can close one around the shaft and slide the fingers of the other into the slit.

The dragon makes a series of hurried clicks and growls, throwing his arms around him and kissing his face, “Barclay, you, you’re so wonderful, I never thought you’d want this, ohgoodgods.”

“I do, babe. I wanna know what my whip-smart, handsome dragon likes, wanna make you come apart” He squeezes lightly and Joseph growls.

“I did not wait this long to cum on you while you’re clothed.” Clawed hands grip his ass as Joseph stands and carries him to the nest on the floor, dropping him into it with uncharacteristic carelessness. Which he then remedies by methodically removing Barclays clothes and folding them into a pile.

“Mmmm, hello dearest.” Indrid turns his head to kiss him as Joseph rolls him to face the other two.

“Hey. Gotta say, you look really good like this.”

“Damn right he does.” Duck’s hips stutter and Indrid squirms happily, “heh, shoulda known Joe would pick that for you. He’s got a thing for thick thighs.”

“Huh? OH! Ohfuckyeah.” He moans as Joseph manhandles him to thrust his cock between his thighs. Teeth nip his neck as golden pre-cum streaks his skin. The scales of his cock rub wonderfully on the base of Barclays own, and soon he’s so hard he’s ready to promise Joseph anything he wants for the chance to cum.

Cool, human fingers encircle his shaft. Indrid grins, “I may not be able to move much, but Joseph seems to be more than capable of getting you to fuck my fist.”

Barclay dips his head forward with a groan to kiss his shoulder.

“You don’t gotta worry about movin’” Duck grunts, tongue darting out to Indrid’s cheek, “all you gotta do is lay here and take my cum like a good little mate whenever I say.”

“Yes, yes, oh goodness Duck please, take me, use meAHnnnnn” a whimper “so much.”

“Shhh, s’okay sweet thing, I’m almost done.”

Joseph purrs in his ear, “cum for me, big guy, cum for me while I coat your thighs and, gods, and Duck breeds your boyfriend into next week.”

“Fuuuuck.” Barclay spills helplessly into Indrid’s hand, holds tight to his shoulder and Joseph’s right arm as the dragon cums between his legs. There’s a muffled curse and an “eep” from beside him, then Duck rolls off Indrid and begins licking the humans cum from his stomach.

“I, I think you built a very sturdy nest.” Joseph curls his body around Barclay and drapes his tail over Indrid’s legs to brush Duck’s.

“Thanks, handsome.”

“I also think living with Indrid for months has made your mind assign him the position of partner, hence the nesting.”

“Makes sense.” Indrid murmurs.

“And--oh” Joseph sighs as Barclay kisses him.

“Promise you can share more theories later, babe. Right now, how about napping with your boyfriends?”

Joseph purrs deeper as they all cuddle closer, “I like the sound of that.”

[golchaworld]

Brown Sugar, Cinnamon Spice | H. HJ

pairing: baker!hyunjin x wedding planner!reader, (implied fem!reader), various celebrity cameos

genre: tooth-rotting fluff, a pinch of angst

word count:  5.4k

warnings: none!

summary: amidst stress and loneliness, you find your own decadence.

A/N:  this is probably the longest fic I’ve written in the shortest amount of time!  This only took me a few days start to finish.  I guess I was super in love with the concept, and I hope y’all are too.  As always, comments, critiques, and feedback are welcome and encouraged.  My ask box is always open.  Enjoy :D

You swear you’re going to die from a sugar overdose.  Not from the piece of red velvet cheesecake sitting in front of you, but instead from the gazes that the couple in front of you shares.  They fuss and coo, feeding each other different types of cake with disgustingly sweet smiles on their faces.  It would be cute...if you didn’t have to deal with this everyday.

Planning weddings was always your dream.  There was something so whimsical about the aura of weddings, the aura of love, that was always destroyed by the stress of planning.  Ever since you were little, you vowed to take as much stress off of engaged couples as possible, in order to let them bask in the excitement of getting married.

Four years after college, and here you are, the best wedding planner in the city.  The best wedding planner in the city, and absolutely, devastatingly single.

It’s not that you expected to be happily married by 25, but it would be nice to at least have a boyfriend, a significant other, someone.  But no, instead you’re forced to help happy couples as they live out your dream.  All too often you find yourself wishing you were in the place of the bride-to-be, having a fiancé to fawn over.

It’s sad, really, the way you watch the couple across from you as they bask in their pre-marital bliss.  Every glance feels intimate.  Every spoonful that they feed to each other feels private.  You smile sadly before clearing your throat.

“I’ll leave you two to go through more of the cakes.  Let me know when you guys make a decision.  I’ll be waiting up front.”

The couple dismisses you with a wave, barely taking their eyes off of each other.  You just set your shoulders and smooth out the blouse that’s tucked artfully into your skirt.  Your heels make a satisfying click as you make your way to the front counter, adorned with cases of pastries and other sinful sweets.  It’s the one behind the counter, however, that makes your head fill with sugar.

Hwang Hyunjin was more than just a familiar face. He was a college acquaintance, mutual friends always having the two of you running into each other. After graduation, the two of you were the only ones who decided to stay in the city, some twisted stab of fate bringing you closer. 

You can say he’s your glorified best friend. The two of you aren’t exactly the closest, but you see each other often enough that conversation has moved from awkward to easy, distant to friendly. It also helps that the both of you have entered a sort of...business agreement. 

You send any couples needing to taste cakes to his bakery first. When anyone comes to him with an order for a large event that needs planning, he sends them your way. 

Now, the man just looks relaxed, smiling at you with a streak of white flour on his cheek. He leans one arm against the counter and you struggle not to look down at the way it flexes. Hyunjin always said that baking proves to be a full body workout. You can’t help but agree. 

“Which one are they leaning towards?” Hyunjin asks in lieu of greeting. 

“No idea.” You scrunch your nose in disgust. “They were too busy feeding each other and flirting to make any actual judgements about the cake.”

Hyunjin giggles in that unique way of his, high pitched and muted. His cheeks scrunch up, causing crow’s feet to form around his eyes. The flour flakes off in some spots. 

“You can’t blame them,” Hyunjin teases. “They’re in love. Unlike a certain grumpy pants over here.”

You scoff at his insinuations. 

“Don’t be jealous, Y/N.”

“I am not jealous! It would just make my life a lot easier if they just chose the damn cake.”

Hyunjin cocks an eyebrow. “Which one of us is actually baking it again?”

You roll your eyes. “Shut it, Hyunjin.”

The bell above the door chimes, announcing the arrival of a new wave of customers. Hyunjin shoots a wink your way before heading over to the cash register. He has on his salesman smile, and that alone has the group of girls in front of him swooning. 

In college,  Hwang Hyunjin was the mega-hot culinary business student who never slept around and went to church every Sunday. Now Hyunjin is the mega-hot baker-slash-bakery owner who may or may not sleep around but still goes to church every Sunday. It’s fair to say that the entire city is in love with him. 

They have a right to be, of course. Hyunjin is a hot, young, single guy who bakes for crying out loud. He specializes in wedding cakes. What 26 year old man specializes in wedding cakes?

Hyunjin, the anomaly that he is, is the apple of everyone’s eye, a diamond in the rough, a sweet lawn in the concrete jungle. He’s a breath of fresh air, coated in sugary sweetness. 

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him. 

Even now, you watch how he makes small talk with his customers, how he shoots them small smiles and flirty winks. He lays the charm on thick; anything to get them to buy an extra cannoli, he says. And like a moth to a flame, you’re drawn in. You’re drawn into his sweet smile, his long blonde hair, the beauty mark under his left eye. It leaves you with a sugar rush. 

Eventually, you’re called back to reality by your clients approaching. They decide on a simple yellow cake with the strawberry and vanilla pudding filling. Internally, you smile, knowing that it’s Hyunjin’s best seller...obviously for a reason. 

You leave the couple with a reassurance that you’ll set up an appointment with Hyunjin to go over the design of the cake. They mentioned that they already have pre-determined cake toppers, and you fight not to roll your eyes. It’s always the cheesiest when the couples pick their own toppers. 

You plaster on a smile and wave them goodbye, watching as the door closes behind them with a soft thud, the bell above still chiming. You glance down at your wristwatch and sigh. You have 15 minutes to get to Yeji’s dress fitting, all the way across the city. You straighten your shoulders, fix your blouse, and give Hyunjin one last glance on the way out. 

He winks in return. 

.         .         .

The catch of Hyunjin being your pseudo-best friend is that he has to take care of you. Not that you need a lot of taking care of. But at the end of a long work day, Hyunjin is always there to pick up the pieces. He always gives you a choice of desserts to make the day better, and today you choose to do so with tiramisu. 

You practically groan when the first bit of coffee cream hits your tastebuds, followed by the bittersweet hint of cocoa powder. The cake is rich and moist, melting on your tongue in a way that’s not overly decadent. It’s not until you hear a chuckle from across from you do you realize that your eyes are closed. 

When you open them, Hyunjin beams at you from across the counter, laughing at the way you’re indulging in your dessert. 

“Stop laughing at me,” you command around a mouthful of cream. 

“I’m not! It’s just,” Hyunjin tucks a blonde strand behind his ear. “You eat this tiramisu like twice a week, and every time you act like it’s the first...or like it’s going to be your last.”

“You should take it as a compliment.”

Hyunjin chuckles again. “Maybe I do.”

The bakery has a different aura at night. Instead of the lively buzz of coffee cups and sugar rushes, it’s bathed in a velvety decadence, illuminated by the subtle light of the pastry display. All of the chairs have been put up for the night, all of the leftover pastries have been discarded, all of the employees gone for the night. It just leaves you, Hyunjin, and the bold cream of tiramisu. 

The first time Hyunjin had invited you to the bakery after hours, you thought he was joking. The two of you hadn’t been that close yet, and spending secluded, unstructured time together seemed like a recipe for disaster. To your surprise, however, the night was comfortable and casual, spent test-tasting various desserts and laughing over various college memories. 

It surprised you how much Hyunjin embraced you when everyone else from school moved onto different things. In a city this big, it wouldn’t have been hard for him to disregard you completely. You stay up at night wondering why he didn’t.

“So, how was the fitting?”

Hyunjin looks genuinely interested as you recount the details of your day. At a certain point he even reaches for a fork, indulging in the tiramisu with you. With his cheeks full to the brim, he nods, smiles and inserts commentary wherever necessary. Hyunjin has always been the best listener.

“Why do you plan weddings if it stresses you out so much?”

You pout at Hyunjin’s questions. “Why do you run a bakery if it stresses you out so much?”

“Because I get to eat delicious treats at the end of the day.”

You smirk. “So do I.”

“Touché,” Hyunjin smiles. 

The two of you are quiet for a moment, indulging in the last few bites of tiramisu. It makes you smile, the way Hyunjin is still in love with all of his desserts after having to make them all day, every day. After every bite he groans dramatically, pointing an accusatory finger at the cake to say “damn you for being so good.” 

When the tiramisu is finished, and all that’s left is the sound of forks scraping empty plates, Hyunjin sighs. 

“Are you going to plan your own?”

“My own wedding?” When Hyunjin nods in response, you chuckle sadly. “At this point, it looks like I’ll never even have a wedding, let alone have the chance to plan it.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes. “Don’t lie. I’m sure you have suitors lining up to take your hand in marriage.”

You scoff, picking up the plate that once held your tiramisu. You deposit it in the sink full of soapy water behind the counter, along with the fork. Hyunjin grabs your arm as you get closer, forcing you to face his looming form. 

“I’m being serious, you know.”

You shrug in response. “Maybe that’s the problem. My love life is such a joke that you being serious about it seems like an insult.”

“It wasn’t anything.”

“I know.”

“Then why—“

You’re quick to cut the man off. “It’s getting late, Hyunjin. I’ll see you, okay?”

You don’t wait for Hyunjin to respond, leaving the man nodding dumbly behind the counter. At the first whip of the harsh wind against your face, you groan. Hyunjin was supposed to be your ride home.

.        .        .

The thing about the city is that celebrity weddings are frequent. Celebrity weddings, known for their flashy, expensive decorations, and over-the-top attire single handedly wipe out your energy for the entire season. But they pay well. 

The money may or may not be the reason you sit in front of the Minatozaki Sana in your office, her hand being held by her fiancé. He’s a gorgeous man, with a strong jaw and high cheekbones. That much is expected as the fiancé of the top model in the country. 

“So do you guys have a date in mind?” You ask the couple, a warm smile glossing over your face. 

“Well,” Sana glances at her fiancé before returning your gaze. “We were hoping for November 18th.”

“Got it! So a year and a month isn’t too bad. It’s a little tight for planning, but—“

The fiancé chuckles. “Oh no, I think you’ve misunderstood. We meant November 18th, 2020. We want to get married next month.”

You can’t help the way your jaw drops. A month for a normal wedding would be hell on earth. A month for a celebrity wedding is like jumping head first into Dante’s Inferno. Your distress must be palpable, seeing as Sana’s brows furrow almost instantly. 

“That’s...doable right?” She asks with wide eyes. 

“Umm,” you rack your brain for words. “It’s going to be tight. Like really tight. But yes, it’s doable.”

Sana instantly lights up, clasping her fiancé’s hands in hers. “Oh wonderful! I’m so excited.”

You nod in agreement, plastering on the biggest smile you can manage. 

“Oh! And one more thing!” Sana’s eyes sparkle with excitement. “I want a Hwang Cake!”

.        .        .

Three hours later, you’re seated across from the engaged couple as the two indulge in a plethora of different cakes and icings. Hyunjin had managed to whip them all up in such a short amount of time, not once complaining about the pinch you put him in. At some point, though, you’ll have to tell him about the month until the wedding. You’re sure you’re going to hear some complaints then. 

Instead of Hyunjin being the face of the bakery today, it’s one of his employees, a short but bright boy by the name of Felix. He always wears glittery eyeshadow and a smile too big for his face, and it only adds to how endearing he is. You’d never met the human embodiment of cotton candy until Felix waltzed into the bakery on his first day of work. 

With Felix manning the register, Hyunjin is nowhere to be found. The only appearance he made was to hand-deliver the test cakes to Sana and her fiancé. He greeted them with a bright smile and many thanks for choosing his bakery. He only gave you a curt nod before disappearing behind the threshold of the kitchen. 

“The red velvet is to die for! Don’t you think, hun?”

Sana’s fiancé looks back at the woman as if she hung the stars, confessing his love for her and more with just one glance. Once again, you are reminded of what true love looks like. Once again, you feel jealousy brewing in the pit of your stomach. 

“It is. I love it with the cream cheese icing.”

Sana smiles. “I know you do. Cream cheese has always been your favorite. If only you could see that buttercream is superior.”

For a second, the couple just gaze at each other, basking in the vitality of a fresh engagement. You can tell that even though their romance was very spur of the moment, they will clearly last for a long time. 

Your chest hurts. 

“I think we’ll go with the red velvet and cream cheese icing.”

You’re quick to put on a smile. “Perfect! I’ll go let Hyunjin know, and then later we can make an appointment to figure out the design and aesthetics of the cake.”

“Sounds good.”

As you stand and approach the register, you can hear the couple begin to giggle to themselves, as if choosing a wedding cake flavor is the epitome of cloud nine. You suppose it might be. You wouldn’t know

Felix greets you with a smile when you arrive at the register, the corners of his eyes scrunching cutely. “How did it go?”

You can’t help but return the smile. “Good! They decided pretty quickly. Where’s Hyunjin, so I can let him know?”

“In the kitchen,” Felix points behind his shoulder with a thumb. “You can just head back there.”

“Thanks, Felix.”

You expect the hardcore rap music that’s playing through the speakers in the kitchen. It’s muted enough so that the rest of the bakery can’t hear it, but loud enough that Hyunjin can get lost in it. It’s endearing, the way he mumbles the words under his breath while he pipes bright orange frosting onto a black fondant cake. It’s always around this time that he has to perfect his Halloween treats. 

You wait until he’s done piping his row before calling his attention softly. “Hyunjin? They decided.”

Hyunjin doesn’t look up. He just moves on to piping the next row while he says, “and what did they decide?”

“Red velvet with the cream cheese icing.”

“Okay. We’ll make the appointment for later in the week.”

Hyunjin’s tone carries an air of finality to it. It’s formal, cold, and all too detached. Although the two of you have never been that close, this distance is still new from you. Hyunjin has never stood in front of you and felt miles away. 

“Okay.”  And when he doesn’t respond, “I’ll be back later, okay? After closing.”

Hyunjin stills for a moment before continuing his piping job, the movement almost imperceptible. “Tiramisu or cannoli?”

A sticky sweet smile blooms on your face. “Cannoli.”

.        .        .

The shell of the cannoli crunches deliciously, breaking the silence between you and Hyunjin. It’s once again after closing, but gone is the aura of awkwardness the two of you had left behind the previous night. Hyunjin glances at you, a small smirk gracing his face. 

“Is it good?”

You roll your eyes. “You know it’s good.”

“Maybe I do.” Hyunjin shrugs cutely, his white apron shifting in the process. 

He looks more up-kept than usual. His long hair is tied half up by a navy blue ribbon that matches the oversized sweater he wears. He’s wearing his jewelry, all of his piercings filled with earrings, various chunky rings adorning his fingers. But when you look down, you notice he’s still wearing his trademark neon green crocs. 

“Nice shoes.”

Hyunjin looks down before realizing what you’re referring to. “Oh shut up. You know they’re the comfiest for baking.”

“Maybe I do.”

You savor the taste of the whipped cream and ricotta as it hits your tongue. Hyunjin looks content to watch you enjoy the dessert, folding his arms over his chest as he eyes you. He’s not the slightest bit insecure about his work, knowing that no matter what he makes, you’ll love. 

It reminds you all too much of the first time you met Hyunjin, packed together inside a way-too-crowded frat party. Changbin, a mutual friend had grabbed you by the hand and pulled you through the crowd, insisting that there was someone you had to meet. You spotted Hyunjin long before you could make your way over. 

Hyunjin had been leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. His gaze had been disinterested, but confident, knowing that his presence alone was a gift in and of itself. At the time, he didn’t know how right he was. 

“You know, I didn’t mean to insult you yesterday.”

The man’s comment has you finally looking up from your cannoli, the last bite standing frozen between your fingers. After swallowing down a mouthful of filling, you clear your throat, slowly lowering the pastry down to the plate. 

“It’s okay. I think I just overreacted a bit.”

Hyunjin nods, arms still crossed tightly over his chest. Light glints off of one of his silver rings. “Why is it such a sore topic? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Honestly?” You chuckle bitterly to yourself. “Honestly, I don’t know. I guess I just expected something by now. But here I am, 25 years old, having a stable career, and having not had a relationship over half a decade. I just feel like I’m behind, you know?”

Surprisingly, Hyunjin nods. “I do. I mean, I’ve never had a relationship.”

This is news. Hwang Hyunjin, the star culinary student slash campus heartthrob has never had a relationship. Never? Even the thought seems ridiculous. 

The confusion must be evident on your face, because Hyunjin chuckles. “I know, I know. It’s silly, isn’t it?”

“Not silly! Just...surprising…”

“Well, I guess so.”

You’re still attempting to process your thoughts, unable to stop a slew of questions from leaving your mouth. “Why not, though? Have you never considered it? Have you never had your eye on someone?”

At this, Hyunjin’s eyes grow sad. The confident light in them disappears like a wisp of cotton candy in the wind. His eyes swim with a salty-sweetness. 

“I’ve actually always had my eye on someone. Since college, actually.”

Instantly, it clicks. “Oh! They must have moved away, right? Everyone moved away after college except us, and I know how sucky that must be for you. Gosh, I didn’t even consider that.”

Hyunjin traps a bubblegum bottom lip between his teeth, seemingly mulling something over in his head. His arm tenses, only once, before releasing. Hyunjin uncrosses his arms, choosing to lean forward onto the countertop. 

“I don’t think they left.”

Your eyes light up at the same time your heart falls. It’s so easy to fake not being hurt by the information, just like it’s easy to fake not wanting Hyunjin. Just like it’s easy to say that sticking around after hours is for work and not personal agendas. Just like it’s easy to be his pseudo-best friend. 

“Then why don’t you go for it?”

Hyunjin chuckles sadly. “I’m not even on their radar. Not like that.”

For the first time tonight, you laugh. You laugh genuinely and boldly. You laugh loudly, until tears are pooling in the corners of your eyes. Hyunjin just looks at you as if you are crazy, overcome with a laughing fit in the middle of his closed bakery. But you can’t help it; it’s funny. 

“You’re literally Hwang Hyunjin. There’s no one who’s radar you aren’t on! And I mean no one.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes. “Then why don’t they ever go for it or flirt with me back? I keep waiting on them to indulge me, but they never do.”

“I think…” You take a deep breath in order to swallow back tears. “I think that maybe they dont know that you’re interested. You have to be bold and make the first move! I promise you no one would ever turn you down.”

Hyunjin sighs. “And you know this for sure?”

The smile that you plaster on is watery and obviously fake. However, it’s the best you can do in the dark chocolate ambience of the bakery. It echoes everything inside you at the moment—bittersweet. 

“Maybe I do.”

.        .        .

You don’t see Hyunjin again until a few days later.  Your schedule is packed with last minute rearrangements and irregular breaks as you make room for Sana’s wedding plans.  It’s hectic, stressful, and overall just a handful.

Your hands hurt from typing out various versions of wedding invitations.  Every venue in the city hates you for repeatedly calling and begging for availability on November 18th.  A few of your clients are pissed for having their appointments rescheduled, and an even smaller few are understanding.

The worst part of it all is that when Sana and her fiancé waltz into your office on a random Monday, they have the audacity to look cheerful.  Neither of them look the least bit stressed, and all the more in love, which angers you slightly.  You have to remind yourself that this is why you do this.  You have voluntarily become a stress ball for engaged couples.  You’re starting to regret that decision.

Sana blinks her pretty eyes at you sweetly, greeting you with a honey-dipped smile.  “How have things been going?”

You plaster on an equally sweet smile, composed of high fructose corn syrup instead of genuine sugar.  “It’s been going well.  Your cake appointment is scheduled for Thursday.  All that’s left is for you to pick an invitation format, your dress, and the venue.”

“That sounds great!  That’s nothing.”  The fiancé exclaims.

You grit your teeth.  “Yep, it should be smooth sailing from here.”

The couple leaves with various printed versions of wedding invitations that you paid extra to express print.  The minute the door closes behind the two, you sag into your chair.  Running your hands over your face, you let out a loud groan.  The best part about having an individual office is that no one is around to hear your mental breakdowns.

You spend a moment indulging in the secret stash of chocolates you keep in the top drawer of your desk, letting the rich bitterness melt on your tongue.  The taste is dangerous, and you remind yourself to hit the gym extra hard this week.

After a moment, your phone chimes with a message.  It’s a simple text from Hyunjin, asking you if you’re planning to visit the bakery later.  When you reply in the affirmative, he responds with a simple question.

Cheesecake or Torrone?

You smile and reply with the former.

.        .        .

The bakery is eerily silent when you arrive.  Although it’s normally quiet at this hour, you can usually hear the soft hum of Hyunjin’s music, or the sounds of dishes and pans being cleaned.  But this time, there’s nothing.

“Hyunjin?”  You call out, slightly confused at the ambience.

It’s silent for a moment, and then a voice sounds out.  “In the kitchen!”

You follow the familiar path back to the kitchen, surprised at the dimness of the lights and the lack of sound.  When you enter the kitchen, though, it makes both more and less sense at the same time.  Hyunjin has various candles littered around the countertops, illuminating the kitchen in a soft orange glow.

Hyunjin himself stands in the corner of the kitchen, changed out of his work attire.  He’s wearing a neat button up shirt, untucked over black jeans.  The look is completed with his black dress shoes and various jewelry.  At his lack of bright green crocs, you’re taken aback.

At the center of the kitchen, poised atop what is usually used as a workbench for kneading bread, is a perfect cheesecake resting on a cake stand.  The cake’s tan surface is tainted with tracks of a red reduction that has been placed gently on the center of the cheesecake.  At second glance, you determine it to be raspberry.  Your favorite.

“What is all this?”

A small smile graces Hyunjin’s face.  “Well you told me to ‘be bold and make the first move.’  I don’t know what could be a bolder move than candles and raspberry cheesecake.”

A thousand thoughts run through your mind at the revelation.  First move?  Being bold?  It’s you?  Through your jumble of thoughts and emotions, you manage out a small, “so it is raspberry?”

“I’m standing here confessing, and you’re asking about the cheesecake?”  Hyunjin laughs. “Yes, it’s raspberry.  I knew that was your favorite so…”

“So it's me?  I don’t understand.”

Hyunjin finally moves from his position in the corner, crossing the large kitchen easily.  “Well, I hoped we could talk about it over cake.”  The man motions towards the stools around the workbench.

You just nod, taking a seat on one of the stools.  You struggle to keep up with the situation, still wrapping your head around it.  Hyunjin makes his way over, a smile still poised on his face.  You bite your lip as he rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt.  You find yourself biting harder as you watch the flex of his forearms when he cuts the cake.  The piece he deposits in front of you is picturesque, something straight out of a food and wine magazine.

When Hyunjin sits across from you, you take in the way the candlelight hits him, perfectly illuminating his features.  His lips are plush and pink, blonde hair falling down onto his shoulders.  There’s something glimmering in his eyes, a conflicted wetness that borders between hopeful and disappointed.

“So?”  You start.

Hyunjin just shakes his head.  “Take a bite first.”

“Hyunjin, I know what your cheesecake tastes like.”

“I don’t care.  I’m not talking until you take a bite.”

Stubbornly, you pick up your fork and shovel a bite into your mouth.  You’re about to immediately retaliate and open your mouth again, but the pleasant assault of flavor on your taste buds leaves you immobilized.  Your eyes widen in shock, causing Hyunjin to chuckle cutely.

“It’s good, right?  I added an extra hint of cinnamon spice in order to give the crust that extra umph.”

You practically moan around your bite of food.  “Hwang Hyunjin I could marry you right--”

Hyunjin laughs again, this time appreciating the way you cut yourself off before he had to.  He shifts in his seat, taking a bite of his own cheesecake before pushing a strand of hair out of his face.  He savors his bite, chewing slowly and swallowing completely before opening his mouth again.

“I know this may be sudden,” he begins.  “And I know we’ve never been that close.  But I like you, Y/N.  I have since college.  And I don’t want to be too presumptuous, but I have a feeling that you may like me too.”

You nod slowly, trying to ignore the heat that rises to the apples of your cheeks.  “Maybe I do.”

Once again, Hyunjin laughs.  “Well I guess a ‘maybe’ is as good as I’m going to get from you.”

“No, I mean,”  you clear your throat.  “I like you, too.  Not maybe.  I do.”

Hyunjin’s smile is bright, soft around the edges as the shadows of the candle flames dance around his face.  He’s gorgeous, all rounded cheeks and bleach blonde hair, squinty eyes and the faintest of dimples.  

“I’m glad.”

You sigh.  “This whole time I wondered why we were always on the border of friendship.  We were close, but not that close.  It felt weird to be your friend but also felt weird to not be.  I guess that should have been a sign, huh?”

“I’ve always been bad at reading signals.”

“Me too.”

The smile you two share is warm and sweet, filled with the kind of rich sweetness that only comes with something fresh and purified.  It’s not the synthetic sugar that makes candy, nor the citrusy sweetness of fruit.  The sugar you share is rich, deep, with a slight tang.  It’s reminiscent of the crust of the cheesecake, a mellow combination of brown sugar and cinnamon spice.

.        .        .

Sana’s wedding is just as grand as she wanted it to be.  The venue is decked out in flashes of burgundy silk and red roses, complimenting the warm brown of Sana’s hair.  Her dress is adorned with Swarovski crystals and delicate stitching, allowing her to sparkle all throughout the ceremony.  Eventually vows are read, and the couple is officiated, and you hold Hyunjin’s hand when he sheds a few tears.

The reception is equally as flashy, various celebrity couples trying to outdo each other with their outfits and lavish gifts for the newlywed couple.  They take up all of the space in the room and on the dance floor, their fame-inflated egos making the venue feel much smaller than it actually is.

The couple cuts into the cake with cheers in the background.  Hyunjin cringes as they smash pieces of cake in each others’ faces, complaining about the waste of frosting and “immaculately made cake.”  It takes two kisses and holding his hand for 5 minutes straight to placate him.

After cheers and various upbeat songs, the DJ finally slows down the pace.  Various couples get up and slow dance together, swaying to the melody of the soft ballads.  Even though its far from the vibes of Hyunjin’s favorite rap songs, he offers a hand out, and leads you happily to the dance floor. 

The two of you find a small, unoccupied space on the dance floor, instantly falling into each other.  You wrap your arms tightly around Hyunjin’s shoulders, revelling in the feeling of his warm hands around your waist.  The two of you sway together, holding each other too close.  You can feel the steady thump of Hyunjin’s heart under your head, each beat lining up with the slow pumps of yours.

The spectacularly sweet scent that always clings to Hyunjin as a result of his time in the bakery is ever-present, and you find yourself inhaling it reverently.  You allow your eyes to close, getting lost in the song.  And if you think hard enough, you can picture it being your own wedding.

You can picture you and Hyunjin at the altar, a few years in the future.  You would hold each other’s hands tightly, fighting hard to hold back tears.  Hyunjin would of course let a few fall, and you would laugh.  And when the minister asks if you take Hwang Hyunjin to be your lawfully wedded husband, you would smile and respond:

“Maybe I do.”

[spiderman-homecomeme]

Day Two - Remember Me

AN: Y’all we made it!! I’m so excited to share this one with you guys and to see what our talented fandom has done! Here is my contribution to day two! It’s all kinds of sappy, soft, sweet, sad (peep the title) and just emotional in general, and I hope you guys enjoy it. <3

Again, thank you @spideychelleweek for making this all possible!

Prompt: Meet the Family

Here is some 2.9k odd of fluff and hurt/comfort! 

.

.

“Listen, I know you’re a huge nerd and everything, but..." Michelle’s voice holds a teasing, slightly judgmental edge as she struggles to hold three DVDs in one hand, hastily catching one as it falls out of her grasp. “Do you really need more than one copy of The Force Awakens?”

“Okay, first of all,” Peter starts, defensively holding one finger up, “One of those is Ned’s.”

MJ blinks slowly.

“Second of all, May bought me one as a random gift after I’d already pre-ordered it, and I couldn’t just… you know, give it back,” He reasons. “So, yeah. To answer your question: I do need three different copies.” Peter turns his attention back to organizing the box of various electronics hastily thrown together by past-Peter.

MJ still seems less than impressed with that explanation. “Okay. Why?”

“Well,” Peter shrugs, mouth pulling into a slight frown. “What if I lose one?”

When she doesn’t respond, Peter glances up, not surprised to find her staring blankly at him, her expression as impassive as it’s ever been.

He relents, letting her toss one of the three into the “give away” bin before promising to give the second back to Ned.

MJ, out of the kindness of her own heart— or out of boredom, either one— has been helping Peter, in her own words, “get his shit together,” for most of the afternoon. Too many times has she tripped over a stray book, his backpack, a hoodie or even a lone pair of boxers on the floor of his bedroom; times where she’s been unable to find the spare iPhone charger through all the spare papers, pens, and God knows what else in that mess he calls a “stuff drawer.”

Now, none of this is to say that Peter is the messiest person in the world, per se. He can be a relatively tidy person when he needs to be; his room is never littered with trash or the general grossness that comes with some teenage bedrooms.

But...

The cluttered state of Peter’s room is often a reflection of his own mind.

Which is why Michelle is there.

Plus, she’d seen one episode of Tidying Up with Marie Kondo one day when she was home sick from school, and with her room already pretty damn organized-- if she could say so herself-- she has to have some kind of outlet.

So, in a way, they’re really helping each other.

“Oh, hey,” Peter’s voice cuts through her internal monologue, his attention drawn to an ancient— by today’s standards, at least— video camera at the bottom of his second ‘random tech’ box. “Uncle Ben’s camera!”

For a moment, MJ’s ready to go into full-on Comfort Peter in the Best Way She Can Mode at the mere mention of his late Uncle, and she’s trying to decide whether she should do a full or half-hug when his fond, distant smile stops her.

“Wow, really?” She inquires cautiously, craning her neck slightly to get a better look at the artifact. “What’s on it?”

Again, Peter shrugs, flipping the screen open as he examines the device. “I dunno. Old home movies. Probably embarrassing videos of me.”

And he immediately regrets that last part, not having to see the cheshire grin that stretches across her features and the playful quirk of her brow to know that they’re there.

His shoulders sag as he rolls his eyes, fighting back a smile. “You don’t wanna watch any, do you?”

“Um, of course I do.” Her brows furrow as she glances side-to-side. “Are you kidding?”

“It’s not even charged, though.”

“So charge it.”

A beat of silence passes between them.

“Okay, fine,” Peter gives in, though he seems to be far from annoyed, searching for the charging cable near the bottom of the tangle of wires.

MJ cracks another smile at him before continuing to sort through his DVD collection.

--

The old camera feels strange in Peter’s hand, heavier than today’s technology, screen casting a faint blue light as it turns on for what may be the first time in a decade. He’s surprised they’ve even been able to charge it, judging by how old this thing is.

MJ sits on the bed beside him, head resting against his, watching as he navigates the almost laughably ancient menu, an audible, very dated beep-click sounding at every push of a button.

Neither of them know what to expect as Peter clicks “play” on the first video.

The screen flickers slightly, the lens focusing on what they assume to be the old dining room. A man and a woman are setting the table, chuckling quietly to themselves as they joke with one another. They continue to chat idly as they place the plates and cups down, the context of the conversation lost.

They’re at first only vaguely recognizable to MJ, but the feeling is fleeting, the realization almost instantly dawning on her when she sees the mop of curly brown hair and dark eyes on the man, the cheery smile on the woman’s face.

Richard and Mary Parker.

The date at the bottom of the screen reads: August 4th, 2005, 6:07 PM

Her eyes pass a quick glance to the boy next to her, gauging his reaction. There’s a faint, barely-there grin pulling at the corner of his mouth as he watches his parents interact, neither of them paying any attention to the person filming.

“I wanna help!” A tiny voice sounds from behind the camera, and the view shifts quickly, showing a much younger Peter bounding into the room, napkins in his tiny hands.

Mary turns, beaming as she talks to her son, crouching down to show him how to fold the napkins.

MJ feels herself mirroring the expression on his mother’s face.

Peter is still silent beside her, and she can only wonder how he’s truly feeling as they both watch. While she has certainly experienced loss in her near seventeen years of being on this earth, she’s never gone through the pain of losing a parent, much less two biological and one emotional.

“My mom and dad,” Peter finally speaks, as if introducing them to her, his voice quiet.

Under normal circumstances, she might tease him for pulling a Captain Obvious, but she refrains.

She hums in acknowledgement.

“It’s crazy…” He starts, eyes never straying from the screen. “I— I don’t really remember much of them, you know? They… Well, they died when I was really little, so I didn’t really get a chance to make very many memories with them, and everything I did remember I kinda forgot. But—” He pauses, a fond smile playing on his lips. “Hearing their voices… Even though it’s not really something I actually remember… It’s almost like… like it all comes back. Like, it’s so clear, you know?”

It’s said that the the voice is usually the first to go, the first thing one forgets about someone else after they’ve gone. And the more she thinks about it, the more MJ realizes just how true it is. She remembers, very specifically, the last time she heard her grandfather’s voice, but it had been so long since then. In that moment, right then and there, she can just barely recall it in her memory.

She knows, however, that if she were to hear it in a recording— or in this case, a home video— she’d remember once again.

Memories are funny like that, she guesses.

“Yeah,” she nods, gently knocking his shoulder with hers. “I get it.”

The video goes on, with the cameraman— who Michelle can only assume at this point to be Uncle Ben— having moved to the kitchen.

A younger Aunt May stands in the room, poring over a recipe on the counter. “Damn, May,” MJ jokes appreciatively, laughing as Peter gives her a playful shove.

“Don’t even!”

The lens zooms in on May’s face, and she turns, an exasperated grin breaking across her features as she rolls her eyes. She swats at the man behind the camera with a dish towel.

“Hey, how ‘bout you put that dang thing away and make yourself useful around here!” May teases, her eyes sparkling as an immature-for-his-age giggle is heard from the cameraman.

The video ends as the screen pans down, the next playing with only a second in between.

The date reads: August 7th, 2005, 3:36 PM

“Whatcha got there, Pete?”

This time, Aunt May’s voice can be heard from behind the camera, the smile in her tone infectious as the little boy beams up at her through a mop of curly brown hair. A slightly-too-big cowboy hat sits on top of his head. He proudly holds up the pinto hobby horse, jumping with excitement.

“It’s a horsey!”

Aunt May oo’s and aw’s. “What’s the horsey’s name?”

Little Peter pats the neck of the toy with semi-gentle, reverent hands. “Shunshine!”

“Shunshine?” MJ asks incredulously, doing absolutely nothing to hide the snort that had escaped.

MJ can hardly blame the kid though; she’s pushing seventeen and she still has trouble with consonant digraphs every once in a while.

“Hey!” Peter laughs along with her, though there was no stopping the red tint that settled over his features. “It’s a great name!”

“Very creative.”

“Shut up.”

Their joined laughter fades as the next few videos play, falling into a comfortable silence as the old Parker living room shows up on the screen. Red and blue streamers adorn the walls, dozens of balloons in the same shades touch the ceiling, a comically large Happy Birthday! is strewn across the banister.

The date reads: August 10th, 2005, 4:14 PM

The camera circles the room, showing off the decorations, before finally landing on the birthday boy himself.

“What’s your name, sir?”

A new voice full of mirth and humor asks from behind the lens; his father.

Young Peter looks up, a toothy grin stretched across his chubby face. “Peter Benjamin Parker,” he answers, emphasizing each word with a firm nod.

“And how old are you today?” His mother asks, tone laced with hushed excitement.

The boy smiles again, eyes wide, holding up four fingers.

“Four years old!” Both of his parents gasp-cheer.

August 10th, 2005, 5:23 PM

The birthday cake is simple; funfetti with chocolate frosting and red and blue sprinkles, a giant “four” candle placed in the center. Peter wiggles in his chair, eyes wide with wonder as he watches his mother light the wick.

“Are you ready, Peter?” She asks him, and he nods happily.

Happy Birthday is sung as it should be; full of enthusiasm, each singer being in a different key by the end of the song, cheers filling the room as the candle is blown out.

His mother plants a loving kiss on top of his head before smoothing down his unruly curls.

August 10th, 2005, 6:16 PM

The lens briefly goes in and out of focus, showing young Peter as he sits among torn wrapping paper and discarded boxes, his mouth stretched into a toothy smile as he looks at his presents. He jumps up, running around the room to give everyone an enthusiastic hug, thanking them over and over again for the toys.

August 10th, 2005, 7:02 PM

“Happy Birthday, Pete!” His family cheers in a happy chorus.

Peter responds with an excited, “Thank you!”

Aunt May briefly glances up, flashing a smile at her husband behind the camera, before looking back at the young boy in her lap. Her arms surround him in a loose, but loving embrace.

“Did you have a good day?” May asks.

Peter’s answer is an excited nod, followed by an appreciative hum.

Though the snippets of this past life are brief, they’re still able to elicit a familiar warmth from within present day Peter, and he huffs out a quiet chuckle at the way his younger self babbles on and on about how cool his brand new cowboy boots are.

And it’s infectious, as MJ feels the stirrings of the same, incandescent feeling.

The next clip starts from a whole new perspective, it seems.

Seeing as now they’re much closer to the ground, and the excited giggling coming from behind the lens, it seems as if young Peter, at some point, had gotten a hold of Ben’s camera.

August 12th, 2005, 5:50 PM

The view is shaky as the little boy darts throughout the apartment, pausing every few feet to film one of his relatives— though he only gets their legs in the shot; he’s only just pushing 3’1”, after all.

“Whatcha doin’, Pete?”

A new voice can be heard as a pair of work boots come to a stop in front of the boy, one they hadn’t heard yet.

Michelle can feel Peter freeze at the sound, and she glances at him through the corner of her eye; his gaze is still trained on the small screen, his smile tightening.

Uncle Ben himself crouches down, his tall body barely fitting into the frame, the top of his head partially cut off. A broad smile is stretched across his kind face, green eyes looking over the lens and at the boy holding the recorder.

“Filming,” young Peter says simply.

“I can see that! Got anything good yet?”

The camera moves as the boy nods proudly. “Uh-huh. Just like you!”

“Just like me?”

“Yeah! Are you proud?” Though the word comes out more, “poud.”

“Of course,” Ben chuckles gently, reaching over to ruffle the boy’s hair, eyes crinkling as his smile widens. “I’ll always be proud of you, bud.”

The video pauses, the screen frozen on the happy scene.

Present-day Peter hasn’t relaxed, his lips pressing together into a thin line, releasing a weighted breath as his thumb hovers over the play button.

MJ’s stomach churns with a new sense of guilt. “We don’t have to watch anymore… if you don’t want to.”

He nods quietly, slowly closing the screen, gripping the camera in his hands, knuckles nearly turning white at the pressure. Michelle sits, arms folding across her chest as she faces the internal struggle of what to say next, still unable to shake the unease festering in her gut.

“It’s just—” Peter starts, his voice cutting off. He sniffs again, glancing away as he preemptively wipes at the corner of his eye. “Hearing him again… his voice… seeing him actually talk...” He shakes his head. “It just— It got to me, I guess…” He trails off, his gaze still trained on the wall in front of them.

MJ places a hand on top of his, watching his face as he continues to speak.

“And I thought I was… good now? I don’t know. I mean,” he swallows, trying his best to keep his voice even. “I know that you never really forget them, that you never really move on… And everyone always tells you that it’ll get easier but it doesn’t... But, I guess I just thought that I was actually doing better. That it really had gotten easier. Maybe I was the exception... I stopped thinking about him every second… I had some voicemails— that he’d left me, before he… you know… but I’d never listened to them, I guess… because I was too afraid. Of what? I don’t know...”

She gives his hand a comforting squeeze, her own heart pounding in her ears.

“Like, I know that it makes sense that I don’t really remember what my parents sound like, their voices. ‘Cause, you know, I didn’t get the chance to. But I never—” His voice is caught in his throat, the shakiness making it harder and harder to speak. He finally turns to look at her, bloodshot, red-rimmed eyes clouded with tears.

“I never thought I’d forget his.”

At that, without a second thought, she opens her arms, and he falls into them easily. She wraps him in a warm embrace, his face burrowing under her chin. He doesn’t weep, tears falling silently instead as she rubs soothing circles on his back.

And she doesn’t know how long she holds him like that, how long they sit there. No words are exchanged between them, though none are really needed.

“Sorry… For making you watch that,” MJ’s voice is nearly inaudible as she mumbles into his hair. “I shouldn’t have pressured you.”

“No, uh—” This time, he shakes his head, the quiet sniffle between words not going unnoticed. “No. No, it’s okay,” he reassures her, finally pulling back, though he still stays in her arms. “It’s actually really nice… seeing my parents. Seeing Ben. I’m not gonna say that it’s like they never left... But it’s like they’re still with me, he’s still with me, in a way.” His lips quirk into a sad smile, his hand reaching up to wipe at his eyes again. “And… I’m glad you got to see them.”

Michelle finds herself easily returning his bittersweet expression.

While she’d never had the chance to meet his parents, from the short clips she saw, she could tell that they loved each other and that they truly loved their son. She’d also never properly met Uncle Ben, only seeing him in passing as he’d pick up Peter from middle school, or come to decathlon meets in their Freshman year. It wasn’t much, only snippets of their actual lives, but even the smallest glimpse made her feel closer to Peter, to his family.

It was a feeling she’d treasure for years to come.

Perhaps in a more emotionally stable state, she’d make fun of herself for being so cliche, so dramatic. But at this point, right in this moment, she didn’t care.

Her lips press together into a small, faint smile as she takes his hand in hers again.

“I’m glad I got to see them, too.”

[martymango0]

Come On and Slam! Because We’re Making Jam!

Continuing with Christmas in July, let me tell you about my new skill I acquired this holiday past! 

Y’all have no idea how hard it was to not make Space Jam jokes while I was actually doing this, but it was a surprise so I couldn’t and I was dying

[Image Description: two bags of sugar, a handle of burgundy, four boxes of pectin, and five flats of 8 oz mason jars laid out on a table]

My mom used to make jam pretty regularly, but it takes time & space - neither of which she necessarily had - so it’d been more than a decade since she did it last. However, I wanted to learn & we try to change up the contents of our Christmas gifts somewhat each year (it’s always foods, a mix of favorites & new stuff) so we decided to go for it! 

We send Christmas boxes to over a dozen households every year plus we give to my mom’s coworkers & make sure we have a little left for ourselves, so even giving people only one jar of each flavor we made (and some larger households got more than one) it adds up to a whole bunch of jam! Mom taught me her two tried and true jams - strawberry & triple berry - plus we tried a new recipe for wine jelly!

Rest under the cut because I always take LOTS of process photos

SIDE NOTE: the difference between jam, jelly, preserves, & marmalade is what part(s) of the fruit you use. Jelly is just the juice. Jam & preserves are both crushed fruit but preserves have a higher proportion of fruit. Marmalade uses the rind, which is why you mostly see citrus marmalades.  

One of the big things I learned about jam making is you get a lot of things dirty. Seriously, we used several bowls, measuring cups, the food processor (which, I think this was the first time we’ve used that in this house), both our pasta pots, and the canning pot plus spoons & whatnot.

Probably the hardest part of the whole process was getting the lids back out of the pot! See, you have to sterilize your jars & lids before you put jam in them, or else they won’t preserve properly and that way lies moldy jam & disappointment. The problem was the lids & rings stack into each other - especially the flat lids - and we don’t have particularly grippy tongs & the ones we have have an opening in them just big enough for the rings to slide into & get stuck, so getting just one of each out of a deep pot full of boiling water was... challenging, to say the least.

Other than that, making jam is mostly a matter of diligence & withstanding the heat.

[Image Description: three pots on a stove. the canning pot on the back left burner is very large, black, and has a lid. The pasta pot on the back right burner contains numerous mason jar lids. The pot on the front right burner is red and is empty] 

[Image Description: recipes, a bowl, measuring tools, bags of sugar, and packets of pectin on a kitchen counter] 

I’m not kidding about the heat. We did this in late November & we were in t-shirts & had the back door open & fans running and I was still overwarm. There’s just so much steam going into the air that with three burners on & two people working in a small space it got hot! I have so much respect for the women who did this sort of thing in more clothes in the summer before fans & air conditioning on a much larger scale without the convenience of modern equipment so they’d have food to survive the winter.

We used frozen fruits because it meant less waste since, except for the strawberries, neither Mom nor I are big berry eaters so we didn’t want leftover fresh fruit. It also meant we didn’t have to hull strawberries which saved us time & effort. Plus, using frozen meant we could do this whenever we wanted, not just when the berries were in season.

[Image Description: a woman running a food processor full of red berries] 

You really get a sense of how much sugar is in things when you make it from scratch in a way you just don’t otherwise. 

[Image Description: berries and sugar in a pot on a stove. Behind it is a pot of sterilized jar lids ]

One of the big things when making jam is foaming. Skimming off the foam while leaving the jam was one of my major tasks. It’s always going to foam up a little when you cook it down, but the more foam the less jam you get out of a batch. It’s not an issue with jelly because there you’re just using liquid & sugar, but the air pockets in the fruit pulp cause foaming.

The secret, I learned, to having less foam is to add a tiny bit of butter; the difference in amount of foam was staggering. The butter makes it harder for bubbles to form. We did one batch of each jam without butter because we had a vegan household amoungst our recipients, so I really go to see the difference!

I’ve since learned that processing your fruit & letting it chill overnight also apparently helps reduce foaming, so something to keep in mind the next time I try this.

[Image Description: a pot of jam midway though the process seen from above. Behind it is a pot of sterilized jar lids] 

While you don’t need a canning pot to make jam - or even a food processor, for that matter - GET YOURSELF A CANNING FUNNEL! Seriously. I’m all up on the pro-multitasker/anti-unitasker train when it comes to kitchen tools (my goal in cooking is to make the best tasting food while getting the fewest number of things dirty) but this is an exception. Sure, you can fill jars without one, but you don’t want to. The canning funnel is a gift sent directly from God to save jam makers from hell & I will not hear otherwise. I did one jar without it & am never doing that again.

[Image Description: a red cooking pot of jam next to an open, filled 8 oz mason jar of berry jam and a canning funnel on a counter ]

The final step is processing! Gotta cook all those proteins into tasty, tasty gel.

[Image Description: four 8 oz jars of jam on a rack in a large pot of boiling water] 

[Image Description: about two dozen processed 8 oz jars of jam cooling on towels on a table]

We did the jams first because they took the most work & because we knew those recipes were good. The last thing we did was the wine jelly. It’s made with table wine, specifically burgundy. As someone who doesn’t drink I had no idea who it was going to turn out. Also, buying that large a container of wine was weird.

[Image Description: an almost empty handle of burgundy]

I actually quite like how it turned out! It’s basically grape jelly (duh) but with a bit of a bite to it. I have made the most decadent PB&Js from this stuff; brown bread, peanut butter, & wine jelly make the best sandwich, y,all.

[Image Description: two stacks of sealed USPS flat rate boxes on the floor]

The verdict from my friends & family was overwhelmingly positive, so while we might not do this again this coming holiday, we’ll probably do it again sometime. Plus, I know how to make jam now; I will use these powers for evil good!

[alexanderhamllton]

We’ll Manage [Jordan Fisher x Reader]

Summary: Reader has to ask Jordan to go with her to a family gathering after they break up.

Word count: 2,682

Warnings: None, I mean... Two swear words?

A/N: This one turned out longer than I expected, but also one of my favorites. Shoutout to @protecting-my-legacy​ (#strawberriesandcheese) and the anons that requested more Jordan because I! LOVE! WRITING! FOR! HIM! Hope y’all like it too <3

askbox | masterlist

“Just text him, it won’t kill you!” Your best friend handed you your phone, but you denied.

“Are you insane? I can’t just text him! We broke up only a few weeks ago, I can’t just start asking for favors.” You still felt a knot on your throat when saying those words. The break-up wasn’t something you wanted, but it was something you both agreed on: Jordan had a very busy schedule, you were struggling to keep college and a healthy relationship with him at the same time, it was just not working.

“Well, you can tell your whole family you broke up with your grandmother’s favorite son-in-law...” Your look to her was enough for her voice to go lower as the sentence went on. It was true, your whole family loved Jordan almost as much as you did. When you first introduced him on a family reunion at your aunt’s birthday, your younger cousins recognized him from the TV, and soon enough he was giving everyone an acoustic performance of whatever songs your family wanted him to play, your older cousin playing the guitar.

Before you knew, he was a must-have on your family reunions.

His family liked you as well, his mother would ask for help with the dishes, taking off the table and you’d talk about recipes and obviously Jordan. She’d ask questions about his everyday routine as she was frequently too busy with her own work to check on him, she trusted you with her son, and disappointing her or your own family was never in your plans when the relationship started.

“[Y/N], you need to do this.” Your friend’s sharp tone brought you back from memory lane. She was sitting on your bed while you looked through the dresses in your closet, searching for something you haven’t used on a family gathering before. You shook your head, trying to brush away the pride. “I know, Kenzie, I know.”

You grabbed your phone from her hand and opened the messages. A few group chats from college and a ‘good morning!’’ message from your mother, nothing from Jordan. Not that you expected anything, you haven’t heard from him since the breakup, but the hope was still there somehow.

From: [Y/N] To: Fisher Can I call you?

You put the phone in your jeans’ back pocket while scanning the dresses on the hangers, it didn’t take much for it to vibrate. His contact still had a picture of you and him together, you forgot to delete it. Taking a deep breath, you answered the call. “Hello?”

“Hi… Everything’s alright?” His voice was low, you could feel his hesitation on the way he blurted the words too fast. The downside of knowing him too well.

“Uh, yeah, everything is okay.” Kenzie made a motion meaning you should get to the point, and you nodded before trying to find the right words. “I need to ask you something.”

“...Okay.”

“Do you remember how a few months ago we agreed to go to my grandma’s 80th birthday?” He agreed. “Well, I kinda, like, I… I didn’t tell my family we broke up.”

“What? Why not?” The moment he answered you noticed a constant beat stopped. He was probably pacing on his dressing room or something.

“Because I couldn’t! You know how much they love you and… Nevermind, forget it.”

“C’mon, [Y/N].”

“I just thought if you could maybe go with me, I don’t know, it was a stupid idea and you probably rescheduled to do something else and-”

“I can go. It’s this saturday, right?”

“Right.” You managed to get out through the lump in your throat.

“Okay then. I’ll pick you up and we can go.” You nodded, not letting out any sound. “[Y/N]?”

“Uh, yeah, sounds good. Seven?”

“Seven it is. Gotta go now.”

“‘Kay.” You hang up, closing your eyes and leaning with your forehead against your bedroom wall. “I hate myself.”

“You’ll survive.” Kenzie said, getting up and grabbing you by the shoulders before placing you in front of the dresses again. “So, which one?”

You were applying perfume when the doorbell rang, almost making you drop the bottle.

“Sweetie, Jordan is here!” Your mom’s voice seemed unsure, but excited at the same time. She always liked you both. Hell, who didn’t?

“Coming!” You turned on your heels to check yourself in the mirror one last time before leaving your bedroom. It was big family dinner, so you decided for ankle boots and a black dress, a burgundy coat and black tights because of the winter weather in New York. When you arrived at the door, Jordan’s mouth opened up a little, and you had to hide a smile. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“We should get going”. You said quickly, trying to avoid stare at Jordan too much. He looked handsome, a bomber jacket over the buttoned-up shirt.

“Nice to see you again, Mrs. [Y/L/N].” Your mom held the door with a smile, stopping you before you left behind Jordan.

“Honey, if you need me to pick you up, just call me.” She squeezed your arm with kindness, and you smiled at her. “Everything will be fine, mom. I’ll tell grandma you sent her hugs.”

“Don’t forget the gift!” You grabbed the wrapped box that was standing in the entryway before heading out your place. Jordan was waiting by the car, holding the passenger door for you.

“Since when do you have a car?” You asked, entering the vehicle. He closed the door and got on the driver’s seat before replying: “It’s a rental for the night.”

“You didn’t have to.” You didn’t bother to raise your eyes from the gift in your lap, too afraid of looking at him. You both knew each other too well, the break-up was pretty recent, and you knew better than to let yourself fall for him all over again.

“Yeah, I know, but I figured the awkward silence in your mom’s car would be worse.” He simply said, starting the car. It took a few minutes before you decided to turn on the radio, otherwise the ride would be unbearable: when the familiar voice hit your ears, you couldn’t help but sound a bit too excited.

“You’re on the radio! Oh my god!” You looked at him as he glanced really quick at the radio’s monitor before getting his eyes back on the road.

“Yeah, I guess I am!” He sounded excited, but contained, which you could understand. “It’s the first time I’m listening to this song on the radio.”

“Shut up! For real?” He nodded, letting out a laugh. You missed that laugh. Since you saw him rehearse, perform and release the EP, you knew every word: it was pretty easy to sing along with him, just enjoying the moment.

Before you knew, you were both arriving at your grandma’s place.

The house was noisy, you were able to hear your aunts cheerfully talking as you both walked to the porch and your uncle scream for someone to answer the door when you rang the doorbell. Right before the door open, Jordan held your hand, making you hold your breath for a second.

“[Y/N]! Jordan!” Your younger cousin, Andrew, opened the door and cheerfully hugged you both. “Mommy, [Y/N] is here!”

You walked into the familiar house, flooded with guests and smelling like homemade food. Your grandma was on the living room, greeting other family members that arrived only a few minutes before you two.

“Look who’s here! Oh, honey, I missed you so much!” You almost suffocated at your grandmother’s hug, but hugged her just as tight. “Hi, grandma! Happy birthday.”

You handed her the box, which she put on the top of a pile with many others. “You didn’t have to, I always tell you that.” Her eyes moved to your ex-boyfriend, that was awkwardly standing next to the whole scene: “Jordan, I’m so glad you made it! I saw you on the news a few days ago, congratulations on Hamilton!”

“Thank you so much! Happy birthday, mrs. [Y/L/N], you don’t look a day over forty.”

Your grandmother’s laugh was genuine and sweet, making you smile with her. “You’re a really good liar, little man. Please, you two, make yourself comfortable. I’ll go check the kitchen.”

You both nodded before turning to the living room where everyone was, talking and joking with each other. You waved at the family members that noticed your entrance, and you quickly managed managed to get to the drinks, grabbing a glass of water for yourself and one for Jordan.

“It was that or white wine and I know you’re not a fan of it either, so...” you muttered, handing him the glass.

“Yeah, thanks.” He took a sip, unsure of how to keep the conversation going. It was so easy to talk to him before… Everything. “So-”

“So, how’s Hamilton?” You tried.

“It’s been- It’s been great. Tiring, but great. Took the day off today.” He took another sip, and that’s how you knew he was trying to change subject. If there were any alcohol on that glass, you’d know for sure he was trying to get himself drunk, to lighten the mood a little.

“Today wasn’t your day off?”

“No, it’s actually on Mondays.”

“Oh… You didn’t have to, really.” He was about to answer when you both heard your older cousin.

“Hey, love birds!” You faked a smile before turning to him: he had a guitar in hand. Oh no.

“Michael, can we do this after dinner?” You asked, hoping he’d agree. Almost at the same time, your aunt showed up to invite everyone to join at the dinner table, making you shake your head in relief.

The dinner was a compilation of all the small topics available in the English language. Your family wasn’t the closest one, it was rare for them to talk about anything remotely important; so you were on the auto-pilot most of the time. Jordan knew, because he was in the same state until the voice of one of your cousin’s girlfriend brought you both back. “So, [Y/N], how do you manage dating and college? I wouldn’t be able to do it!”

“Uhn-” You stuttered before feeling Jordan’s hand on your knee under the table, making you glance at him for a second. “We do our best, I guess.”

“Me and Michael are always missing each other, I mean, I go crazy if we don’t see each other for too long.” She commented with a yellow smile on her face, making you cringe inside. Outside, you  just faked a smile and nodded.

“We understand each other’s needs, I miss her too but we manage.” He completed, and you bit your lower lip, holding back all the feelings.

“We can manage this, [Y/N], you know we can!” His pitch was high, almost breaking.

“I’m tired of managing, J! I’m tired of having to find small gaps on your schedule just to see you!”

“You knew this would happen eventually, we both did!” He took a deep breath, trying not to sound mad or angry, because he wasn’t. Frustration was the right definition of how he felt at that moment.

“I didn’t think it’d be this hard, and don’t lie to my face saying you’re happy with how things are going!” You were sit on the floor while he was pacing on your room, trying to calm himself down.

“Of course I’m not!” He stopped walking. “Of course I’m not.” His voice echoed in the room and on your thoughts too.

“We need to end this, J. It’s not healthy.” You couldn’t face him while saying those words.

“We don’t ‘need’ to end.” He hissed. “It’s just easier for you if we do.”

“If you excuse me.” You mumbled, leaving the table quietly but fast. You went to the kitchen of the house you knew so well since a kid, storming out of the place by the back door. The garden was still the same, the swings your dad installed there when you were just a toddler were in perfect condition, the cold made your fingers numb and your skin cold, and maybe that’s why you decided to sit and just stay there for a moment.

You closed your eyes, the memories taking over. How he missed your calls due performances and interviews, how it took too long for you to answer his texts because of tests and lectures. You remembered how every single time your calls went to voicemail hurt you a bit, and that seeing him only once or twice a week started to not be enough. And then fights came, long discussions about how hard it was for him to find time to see you and how the relationship went from a priority to something easy to just ‘reschedule’. The tears started falling and you decided not to stop them.

“[Y/N].” His voice was almost a whisper that you wouldn’t even hear if it wasn’t his. You looked up only to face Jordan with your coat in hand, already wearing his. “I figured you’d need this.”

“Thanks.” You muttered, wiping away the tears with the back of your hand before taking your coat.

“Look, if you want to go… I told your family you weren’t feeling well and-”

“I miss you.” You admitted, your eyes now on his. “I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too.” He sat on the swing next to you, and you decided to focus on your feet. “But-”

“We can’t go back to normal.” You remembered the conversation you had before deciding to break up. “Because there’s no normal when it comes to us.”

“Yeah.” You felt his hand on your chin, compelling you to face him. His eyes were more alluring than you remembered. “But I don’t need normal. Normal is boring, normal is not what we are.”

Tears started to form again, and you blinked a few times trying to avoid them. “We deserve normal J, normal is safe.”

“Since when do you play safe?”

“Since… You.” Your answer made him chuckle. “Don’t laugh.”

“Sorry.” You both fell into a moment of silence, facing your grandma’s house and unsure of how to continue - or end - the conversation. “Wanna get back in?”

“Nah.” You replied. “You’ll have to sing if we go back inside.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I know, I mind.”

“Ouch!” His hand flew to his chest, faking a pain in the chest and making you giggle. “Now that’s what I like to see.”

“You’re so cheesy.” You mumbled, rolling your eyes before getting up from the swing. He stayed there, and you only noticed after taking a few steps towards the house. “Hey, you coming?”

“Do you wanna try again?” His voice was normal, but his eyes had a sparkle you haven’t seen in a long time.

“What?”

“You heard me. We can do this, for fuck’s sake, we barely made any effort last time.” He got up, talking towards you and stopping when he was close enough to touch you if he wanted to. “I don’t need easy, I don’t need safe. I need you, [Y/N]. And I know it will be hard but if we can do this rig-”

Acting out of instinct, you locked your lips on his, stopping his babbling. When his arms wrapped around your waist, the way he always did, you weren’t feeling cold anymore. Your hands traveled from his jacket to the back of his neck, pulling him closer to make it up for lost time. When you pulled apart, out of breath, you heard his raspy voice. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes.” You replied, before smiling. He hugged you tight, taking everything in and lifting you off your feet for a few seconds, which made you giggle. When he put you on the floor again, your hand took his as you took a few steps towards the house. “Now let’s go back inside, you can’t leave your fans waiting.”

“They can wait.” He said, pulling you back to his arms. “Let me have this moment first.”

[thejoycefordblog]

Summer Home Tour, Sponsored by hayneedle.com

  “Some old-fashioned things like fresh air and sunshine are hard to beat.”

-Laura Ingalls Wilder-

When I think of Summer I think of strawberries, watermelon and lemons. I think of driving around with the windows down, bonfires and s’mores. I think of corn on the cob and ice cold lemonade.  I think of big blue skies and sunshine. I think of beach houses and sea breezes.

I remember as a young girl visiting my Grandmother in New Jersey for a few days one summer. The memory that sticks out in my mind the most was falling asleep to the sound of the ocean waves crashing into the shore. There’s just something about the simplicity of nature and days filled with sunshine thats so calming, you know?

When my friend Hayley, at A House With Books , asked me to join her and some extremely talented bloggers to bring our readers a Summer Hour Tour, sponsored by our friends at Hayneedle.com I was positively giddy. I feel honored to be collaborating with such talented women and friends! Plus Hayneedle.com is chock-full of amazing home decor goodness! I literally have a cart full right now of items to add to our home. I even caught my husband, Brandon adding some items too! It really is fun for the whole family.

If you’re coming from either Tammy’s or Nicole’s blog, welcome! I’m so glad you’re here! Aren’t there homes just lovely!!?

If you’ve been following along with me on Instagram then you know we have slowly been updating little bits of our new home. I decided to stick to the time period that the house was built, which is the late 1950’s. I have always appreciated Mid Century Modern style and I’ve been having a blast incorporating it into our forever home. So while sticking to my Mid Century theme as well as some Modern Farmhouse touches I really wanted to incorporate some fun summer colors. Like I mentioned earlier, summer makes me think of blue skies and sunshine, any guesses what colors I decided to use?

Well of course, blue and yellow!! So without further ado lets get to the fun part, the pictures!

We recently painted our front door this beautiful blueish-gray color. It’s called Homburg Grey from Sherwin Williams. I’m absolutely in love with it! I think it works perfectly with the stone.

When you walk into our home you’re immediately greeted by a lovely stone fireplace. It really is the focal point of the room. So my goal is to give the fireplace the attention it deserves, all while keeping it simple.

Our home is currently filled with wallpaper, so its going to take some time for us to remove all of it. We have decided to take it a little at a time. DIYing and home renovations with kiddos is no joke, buddies. Slow and steady wins the race, I think, haha!

I really wanted to get started with the fireplace wall because it is such a focal point of the room. Thankfully the wallpaper above the fireplace was fairly easy to remove. It was just the plaster underneath that gave us some trouble Nothing some drywall can’t fix. I was originally going to go with green for above the fireplace but settled on this stunning shade of blue, its called Riverway, also from Sherwin Williams.

I recently found that neat little Roman bust figurine at Goodwill for only $6.00

I also tore out a page from The Magnolia Magazine for a new piece of artwork for my frame and voila, a sweet little vignette! My goal for this builtin is to either shiplap the back or wallpaper the back. I haven’t decided yet but I promise y’all will be the first to know when I do!

“Home is where love resides,

memories are created,

friends and family belong

and laughter never ends.”

-Unknown

These beautiful ceramic containers are from Hayneedle.com I think they add the perfect touch to our fireplace mantle. They are gorgeously made with a lovely crackle finish to make them appear aged and unique! I think they compliment all of my vintage pieces so well.

I added a yellow velvet pillow cover to my blanket basket to keep with my blue and yellow theme.

I also scored those adorable vintage pennants from a local antique store for only a couple dollars each. I love the pop of color that they add to the gallery wall! And what doesn’t scream summer more than vintage road trip memorabilia! A blue place mat from Walmart and some greenery to finish off the space.

I was originally going to purchase new blue pillow covers, if you read my Mood Board post which you can find here then you saw the pillow covers from Amazon, here.  However, they just weren’t in the budget right now so I took some blue and white cotton napkins and made myself some pillow covers. The blue and white feels classic and fresh, perfect for summer time! I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, shopping my house is one of my favorite things to do!

I also added that gorgeous white wool pillow from Hayneedle, its absolute perfection. I try not to be super fussy over items in our home. I mean we do live here so things get used and with young boys maybe even slightly abused, haha. But I told them they aren’t allowed to touch that pillow…ever!! Haha! Sorry…not sorry!

I think the true star of the show though, is my new Mid Century Upholstered Bench from Hayneedle.com I mean could it be any more fabulous!? It adds texture and softness to the space. It was a total breeze to assemble and I’m in love with it. I think it’s exactly what this room needed.

I also moved my floor lamp to the other side of the couch and put my Mid Century inspired DIY table in this corner. To read about how to make your own, you can find that post here.

  Cold lemon water with some fresh strawberries is one of my favorite things about summer time, it’s so refreshing during the hot humid months.

Another project I checked off my to-do list recently was painting the inside of our corner cabinet in our dining room. I had some left over paint from a pervious project. I really love how this piece turned out, I feel like its makes all of my thrifted Ironstone pop!

Floral aprons, sun hats and tea towels oh my! I love this happy little corner of my kitchen. It’s a lovely little catch all. When pretty and functional meet, I’m a happy girl!

Well that’s all she wrote, buddies! Thank you so much for stopping by today! I hope you enjoyed this little tour! I’ve linked all of my sources below for your convenience and please make sure to head to the other amazing blogs below for more Summer Home inspiration.

Blessings ❤ Bree

Tour Schedule 

Thursday June 22, 2017

A House With Books // A Blue Nest // Belle Amour Blog

Friday June 23, 2017

Tammy Damore – A House In Bloom // My Autumn Farmhouse // 

Sources

Threshold Table Lamp // Blue Lidded Boxes – Hayneedle   // Belham Living Midcentury Modern Upholstered Bench – Hayneedle // White Pillow – Hayneedle  // Velvet Pillow – Target // Puffin in Bloom Books // Crosby Floor Lamp – Target // Area Rug – Rugs USA

White Waffle Throw Blanket – Target // Cake Stand – Walmart // White Pitcher – Target // Recipe Box // Horse Hair Dust Pan and Brush Set  // Wood Mirror – Target  // LetterLoveGoods Letter Board  // Pineapple Coconut Scented Candle – Target // Macrame Table Runner – World Market  // Chemex – World Market 

Paint Colors: Sherwin Williams

Front Door: Homburg Grey

Fireplace: Riverway

Corner Hutch: Peppercorn 

  Great post originally from: The Homemaking Momma