#my playlists are the chef kiss emoji
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
siremasterlawrence · 4 months ago
Text
Chef’s Kiss
Tumblr media
Is it evil to agree to have dinner with my hot next door neighborhood daddy and his kids with an agenda of my own? Maybe my dear!However I am literally at the front door of his home taking a breath and then knocking on it hard. A few minutes pass as I hear feet shuffle to rush over and open it a firm and assured handshake is offered as I cross the threshold into his home and I know it is far too late to back out now.
“Hello! I made it”
“Great to see you! Lawrence”
“May I ask?
“Take a lead off and sit “
“I’ll get you some wine”
“Thank you! Perfect for me”
“What did you say?”
“I made these for you “
“Really! Oh sweet!”
“I’ll have some later “
“Are you sure?”
“I don’t want to ruin my dinner “
“You won’t”
“I promise”
“Why are you 
.”
“Yes!”
“You are right! I’ll have one”
“Correct! Sit down at your dinner table”
“Ok! Can’t wait “
“Actually on the couch”
“Eat as much as you want “
“I shouldn’t but heck”
“These smell so lovely “
“You are a confectionery genius”
“Having a moment here”
“Sorry! You should open a bakery”
“One day! God willing but for now eat it up”
Tumblr media
I watch him dig into one cup cake like a tiny delicate treat tasting it like it is the most all inspiring and chef approved marvel of a cup cake on a level never seen before as his eyes are all a glow taking them in one by one of course. I left him to his station on the couch lost in a sea of sweats and love entering the kitchen I begin to look for a wine glass, uncork the champagne taking a sip as he munches on completely ignoring everything around him.
“Are you alone tonight or will we have company?”
“Just us bud”
“Perfect! Why don’t you finish the last one “
“With pleasure”
“I feel weird”
“How so?..”
“Light! Dumb! Drunk!”
“Can you tell me who you are?”
“Chris Lyle! Right? I think”
“You got it! Do you know where you are?”
“FUCK No! Who cares?”
“Do me a favor?”
“Why are you wearing a suit?”
“Dude! Hell no!”
“You are a bro man”
“I am about to go change “
“Yeah! Do that”
“Mwahahahahaha! As planned”
Tumblr media
I knew it would take him at least a hour to change because he no longer can focus on anything in particular except for all of me it’s my secret ingredient simply put and you will love it really it’s my bodily fluids mixed in with my scent. While he trudges away his cellphone begins to ring alerting me to a text I receive, I reply back to not come home tonight because I need some time for myselfback and I get a smile a emoji form all of his kids like it’s the latest fad all do sudden any way I am getting side tracked.
The plane is halfway completed as I grab my got to bag placing it on the table slide the zipper down the side pocket to retrieve my phone, I swiftly connect to my cell to his speakers shifting through my playlist in my music app and I land on hypnotic tunes as I press play and raise the volume. It is a list specifically attune to my chemical make up so only someone who is connected to me will be affected, upstairs the minute the first track hit his ears the lights went out in his eyes and he began to undress and I take over the kitchen rummaging through his fridge I begin to prepare meal mixing spice made with my bodily fluids.
“Mmmmm! What is that delightful aroma?”
“It’s my spices I created”
“They are heavenly”
“May I help!”
“Sure Chris! Dance across the floor “
“I’ll slide”
“Someone is in a good mood”
“Never felt more alive “
“You are a great cook”
“Ok bro! Taste this for me”
“Oh Lord!”
“What? No good!”
“You have to sell this “
“Seriously! I think this is made with love “
“Blood sweat and tears”
“Literally!”
“Why do I feel attracted to you ?”
“You are straight right?.”
“I thought so”
“Kiss me”
“Mmmm! Oh fuck that! I love you Master!”
Tumblr media
The end
34 notes · View notes
bromcommie · 7 months ago
Note
MAXX! :))) hope you are well.
for the emoji fanfic ask game ;)
đŸ‘€đŸŽ¶đŸŽąâŒđŸ€Č✅
Sorry for so many haha, you don't need to answer them all, but I'm very curious!
Hiii thank you for the abundant ask<3
👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!
This might not be a particularly interesting answer but the only thing that I’ve really been trying to work on has been the structure and pacing of the next few chapters of orpheus, since I have them all mostly written but can’t get to a place where I’m really happy with them. I might be overthinking it. Unfortunately I also just haven’t had the time + energy to sit myself down and really figure it out. :( Ergo all the snippets, which is the only way I can get something out at least.
In slightly better news: I kind of have the next two installments in the I clawed my way into the light series finished?? Sam and Steve and their collective and individual issues are finally getting their moment in the strange, poetry-question-mark spotlight!
However I’ve got some intense life stuff coming up so it might be a month or so until I post any of the aforementioned in full 😭
đŸŽ¶ Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?
I usually do, and I have unhealthily elaborate playlists for all the characters + some fic-specific ones, but recently I’ve found listening to anything with distinct words in it messes with my concentration. But in terms of what’s being playing on loop: Dorma and to a lesser extent Marionette by Keaton Henson (all of his instrumentals are *chefs kiss* but in general I’ve just been having a Keaton renaissance when it comes to stevebucky. Welcome back 2016 I guess)
❌ What's a trope you will never write?
I’m a “never say never” kind of person, but
 Hydra Trash Party. Which, I know, is ironic considering one of the very few fics I have up right now features Steve/Rumlow, but that one while still meant to be kinda fucked up is very much purposefully neither here nor there (and non-explicit). I just personally don’t enjoy reading HTP and it’d probably mess me up way more than I’d like to try and write. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 
✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?
Answered this guy here!
đŸ€Č Would you please share a snippet of a wip?
This is
not even a snippet, tbh, but also I don’t know when I’ll actually have the time to rework/finish this, so. Just for you, a very long Natasha-focused (plus) wip half-scene under the cut:
“Most other animals only smile when they mean to attack. Did you know that? You should never hold your hand out to a dog whose gums you can see,” Ivan’d said, dabbing at the bloody bite on her chin with a towel that smelled like a distillery, impish twist to his thick mustache. “Or a man who smiles too much, for that matter.”
Natasha only saw the dog once after that. A month later Ivan hadn’t come back to the house for a week and she went out looking the next day, winding her way out of the dead-end street and all the way up Nevsky Prospekt, looping past the crowds gathering water out of shelling holes and the hospital that was now blackened by fresh, smoldering ruins. She walked until the light on the horizon had grown tired and purple, until her legs had almost given out and she had to sit down on the icy pavement. The body of a frail old man lay face down on the ground by the side of the road across from her, his cap thrown back a few meters away and the bald top of his head unnaturally caved in, matching the bruised coloring of the sunset.
It took her a long moment to notice the dog, its bent form and the crumpled body forming a singular silhouette.
The memory is transmuted, stretched thin and faded in places – from time, for a change, she thinks, instead of just manipulation. But she still remembers her hand closed around a solid weight in her pocket, a comfort against the deafening pounding of her heart. She remembers the dog with its lifted head, its snout soaked red and sickly gums anything but bloodless for the first time. Remembers that split second of hurling the brick at it with all the might her thin body could manage.
It wasn’t a thought-out act or even self-preservation, really. The dog had been far away and otherwise preoccupied. It wouldn’t have bothered her. The reasoning was bone-deep and nauseating: she hadn’t eaten in two days, the only person who had cared for her was gone, and the sight of the blood had made her stomach growl. That brick was her only defense against a world tilted entirely off its axis.
It was a while before she fully understood what Ivan had meant by that joking addendum to an otherwise plain instruction, too cryptic for her mind to decipher at that age. It took one too many broken bones and one too many greedy hands on her body and one too many lifetimes lived unwillingly for it to fully translate.
Now, looking at Rumlow grinning that familiar killer smile and thinking he’s hit gold, it’s crystal fucking clear.
It isn’t new, really. She’s met many men like him, often enough that the novelty of exposing them has worn off: ordinary men, utterly predictable in their enjoyment of violence and small in the way of not being able to shape their fear into something more useful. Men who thought their want for power made them anything other than a soft target. Men who thought that, when the time came, they'd be above begging for their life.
It gets boring, after a while, how quickly they all learn. She should know. It’s what gave her her name, back before she decided to hang up that particular title, trade it in for an upgraded version, a cleaner image. Black Widow, Avenger! has a far better ring to it than Black Widow, assassin.
Just because you stop calling a thing something doesn’t mean it stops being it, of course. It might forget, for a while, become domesticated; but the nature is still there.
The children of the Red Room all understood that from the time they could walk. The Soldier understood that, or at least well enough that they had to keep burning it out of him.
“Shit. Is that what this is, then? Really?" Rumlow is saying, still derisive through cracked teeth, still playing a game he thinks he knows the rules to. "You got yourself a spot on the five o’clock news under Captain fucking America and suddenly you think that makes you the guy with the bigger stick? That that changes fuck all for you?”
“Oh, no. Believe you me, I tried being that guy. It didn’t end well for me. Or anyone else, really.” She inches the chair forward, the scrape of the metal loud in the empty apartment, and makes her voice drop to a conspiratorial tone. “But you wanna know what I realized? There are always going to be little men with big sticks, and most of us will never get to be them. And it turns out it doesn’t matter all that much in the end.”
“Big or little, every stick has its breaking point. Every weapon has its expiration date. You live through a regime or two, and you start to catch onto that real quick.” She cocks her head at him with a pensive expression, fingers running absent over that same old thin line under her chin by habit.
In retrospect, the dog she came to understand much quicker than the advice. Natasha had been hungry and afraid most of her life, too.
It’s not the only scar she has by far, but it carries the most straightforward memory. For years it served as a reminder, as banal as it was, of what trust was worth; of what you could do when you got your grubby little hands on it.
“I suppose they wouldn't teach you this since the shelf life of your usefulness was never meant to be all that long, but let me tell you a secret, Brock,” she continues, flipping the knife back the right way around and leaning in. Sunny side up, Yelena used to call it, wry. Drive it in far back enough, right past the optic nerve, and everything spills right out. She doesn’t miss the way Rumlow’s eyes track the motion, the whites showing just enough; the first crack in the facade. "You don't beat the guy with a big stick by getting a bigger one. You do it by making him think he's got you under his boot, you understand? That he’s got you all figured out. You beat him by making your spine less breakable than the stick.”
Here’s the other thing about trust: if you keep yourself in the business of lying to earn it, that’s all people start to expect from you. Your loyalty is immediately suspect. So is your anger. You keep yourself leashed for long enough, everything becomes a dishonest front, even to yourself.
Like anything else in life, it becomes a habit. A very useful, easy one, at that. Or at least until one day you wake up and you realize that the parts of you you were working to protect are dying out; withering. They’re forgetting their own name.
The attempt at a headbutt is predictable at best. She backhands him for it, follows up with the handle of the knife on the second strike for good measure.
“Now that wasn’t very smart, was it?” She says, admonishing. “And to think we were getting somewhere.”
“Was that sermon meant to get me to talk?” Rumlow manages after a heaving moment. There’s a long gash down his cheek that’s deepened, bleeding steadily onto his front. It paints less than a pretty picture with the swelling that’s already pinkening up, bringing the angry criss-cross of scarring over the rest of his pale face into sharp relief, but it feels strangely at home. Not that artistic vision’s ever been her strong suit. “Because if you think getting smacked around some really counts for anything other than good foreplay, you’ve really lost your touch.” He looks back up to grin at her, a useless show of fearlessness. “Hell, ask Rogers. I’m sure that’ll be an interesting conversation.”
But fuck, it’s hard work, breaking a habit. Even harder work: honesty. Graceless and inarticulate and inefficient, like the feeling boiling back up in her now as she looks at Rumlow, the bloody flash of his canines in the dark, and thinks of that paralyzing feeling on the wrong side of an OR window, the shameful horror of letting the world be spun on its axis and pulled from under her again. Thinks of Rogers with his broad shoulders curling in and in and in, the whole of him turned inside out in a deserted parking lot. Trust given and earned.
The next blow has Rumlow spitting teeth.
"Nah. Just thinking out loud." The knife stops half an inch under his eye, makes a home in the oasis of bruised yet unmarred skin.
Rumlow doesn’t flinch. For all of his talk, he still knows better. But she can see how his whole body freezes up, an uninterrupted taut line; the exact moment it registers for him, just how much of the picture he’s missing.
Volchonok, Ivan had called her for a while, in those early days. It’d never stuck like Black Widow did, never had the same marketing potential, but it’d never really stopped applying, either. Hungry and afraid and alone and willing to kill for the things that made her less so.
The name might’ve changed, the circumstances. The nature didn’t.
Natasha smiles; too many teeth, bloodless. "How much can your spine handle, do you think?"
It’s all too easy, in the end, to let the leash go.
(I’m sorry??)
6 notes · View notes
anniesardors · 2 years ago
Note
Hi, Annie! Hope you're doing okay after last night episode 😱 I just wanted to tell you that recently I've been literally ✹obsessed✹ with the OMS playlist, the "Hailey" part is really chef's kiss, I can't wait to listen to all the other songs Jay is gonna write about her ❀ And on that note, maybe you could share some emojis about the next chapter? 😇 Thank you so much for continuing to write about them, it's one of the things that keeps me going (even if I stopped watching PD at the end of last season, I still enjoy reading ff about them) đŸ„°
Hey anon. I'm managing - still super sad but I'm trying. Hope you're doing well too. Thank you so much for your message about oms. It is definitely appreciated right now - the motivation to right is pretty scares with all the sadness in the fandom so this really does help. I love that you love the playlist - I've gone through soooooo many songs to find the right ones, so it warms my heart that you enjoy the songs too. Thank you for reading the fic. oms has brought me so much joy this season, and I'm really excited for you to see the rest of the fic. For now, here are those emojis. See you Sunday!
Tumblr media
3 notes · View notes
the-invisible-queer · 11 months ago
Text
Unhinged About the Jonas Brothers
From the compilation album thing I did. So I will include every song that is relevant.
Everything I excluded from the blog post. Not all horny. Mostly just impulsive thoughts no one else cares about.
Cut so it doesn't kill your dash.
"Inseperable" by Jonas Brothers from Jonas Brothers, 2007
I still have a delusional belief that if Joe ever got to know me, he would fall in love with me. But I doubt he'd ever get to know me. So we'll never know.
"Sorry" by Jonas Brothers from A Little Bit Longer, 2008
GOD-FUCKING-DAMNIT, NICHOLAS! Man has always been talented as fuck as soon as he was able to sing and he never ceases to amaze me.
"Burnin' Up" by Jonas Brothers from A Little Bit Longer, 2008
These nerds from New Jersey put their whole pussies into this fucking song. Let's not forget that Joe is my sexual awakening with that whine in his voice in the opening verse - plus the white pants in the music video. đŸ˜©
"Pushin' Me Away" by Jonas Brothers from A Little Bit Longer, 2008
This song can also be linked to my sexual awakening probably. Joe Jonas' vocals have done a lot for me. Sexually.
"Love is On It's Way" by Jonas Brothers from Music from the 3D Concert Experience, 2008
It is the song equivalent of the đŸ„° emoji.
"I'm Gonna Getcha Good" by Jonas Brothers from Music from the 3D Concert Experience, 2008
JOE'S VOCALS ARE SO FUCKING GOOD FOR NO REASON! Like fuck it UP, Joseph. We stan.
"Live to Party" by Jonas Brothers, 2009
RELEASE "LOVESICK" AND "SCANDANAVIA" YOU COWARDS!
"Play My Music" by Connect 3 from Camp Rock, 2008
I have issues with the retcon of making Jason and Nate brothers to Shane in Camp Rock 2: The Final Jam. Because they were not brothers in the first movie. Nate says "your Uncle Brown" to Shane. Also Jason says, "Camp Rock is where Connect 3 connected". I will never get over that, but I do love and support the Gray brothers regardless.
"Make It Right" by Jonas Brothers from Jonas L.A. (Music from the TV Series), 2010
It's the kind of song that could inspire a one-shot if Joe had any good characters for me to write about that aren't forever teenagers. It is on the Joe fic playlist, though.
"Heart and Soul" by Connect 3 from Camp Rock 2: The Final Jam, 2010
Camp Rock 2: The Final Jam gave us the ICON that is single dad, Jason Gray. Gave us lovesick Nate who blessed us with "Introducing Me". Sequel Shane is SUPERIOR to Camp Rock Shane. And that is the hill I will die on.
"Only Human" by Jonas Brothers from Happiness Begins, 2019
I am obsessed with them. Would risk it all for these losers (affectionate) from Jersey. Joe and Nick's vocals are *chef's kiss*
"Happy When I'm Sad" by Jonas Brothers from Happiness Begins, 2019
Trying not to just scream about Joe's vocals, but they're great.
"What a Man Gotta Do" by Jonas Brothers, 2020
I would like to dedicate this song to Joe. Like what a man gotta do to be totally locked up by you? I am genuinely asking. Please tell me and I'll do it, Joseph. Do you think if I sent Joe a Valentine's Day card with the lyrics from this song, he'd respond? Maybe that'll be how I shoot my shot with him.
"Mercy" by Jonas Brothers from Space Jam: A New Legacy (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack), 2021
Nick has a tattoo on his arm that says "Mercy" but he got it years before this song. But it's a fun little correlation.
"Selfish" by Nick Jonas, Jonas Brothers from Spaceman (Deluxe), 2021
Nick put his whole pussy into this album. And this song is so fucking good and it deserves all my love and affection. Which it has.
"Do It Like That (Pop R&B Remix)" by TOMORROW X TOGETHER, Jonas Brothers, 2023
It is the only song from a K-pop boyband that I will allow. There's so much regarding me and K-pop boybands. I am the perfect demographic for them so if I allow myself to fall into that hole, I will NEVER resurface so I just avoid ALL K-pop boybands at all costs. BUT I'LL BE HONEST, I was TEMPTED to listen to TOMORROW X TOGETHER because of this fucking song. ALSO the way Joe looks in the music video. The man makes me UNWELL!
"Miracle" by Jonas Brothers from The Album, 2023
JOE'S VOCALS! JOE'S VOCALS! JOE'S VOCALS! JOE'S VOCALS! JOE'S VOCALS! That's it. That's why it's on the list. Also Nick's vocals. But Nick's vocals sit backseat to Joe's here. LIKE THE MAN DELIVERED!
"Strong Enough (feat. Bailey Zimmerman)" by Jonas Brothers, 2023
JOE'S VOCALS! JOE'S VOCALS! JOE'S VOCALS! The man makes me [REDACTED] with his voice. JOSEPH PUT HIS WHOLE PUSSY INTO THOSE VOCALS! đŸ˜©
1 note · View note
virgoviolets · 4 years ago
Text
lmao tfw you bring a lemon to a knife fight
5 notes · View notes
ladyvesuvia · 3 years ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
MINI-CELEBRATION FOR 500 FOLLOWERS
Tumblr media
[NAVIGATION]
STATUS: CLOSED. Thank you to everyone who participated! All interactions are under the tag #vesuvia’s 500 followers beach party. I love you all!!!
writing this at 495 followers because i’m hyped af <3
Tumblr media
ANYWAY, i’ll take you guys following me as a sign that you all think i’m cool 👀 so thank you!!! i’m at half a thousand omfg i love u all thank you for reading my stories and being fun people to be around with. i enjoy interacting with each and everyone of u and it makes my heart swell (in love, not cholesterol buildup) :’))
July 2, 2021 05:50 to July 9, 2021 11:59
Tumblr media
A C T I V I T I E S
🍉 munch a bunch » ask me anything.
☀ under the heat » send me something to cast my mutuals as. (you may take inspo from my fandom list here.)
🏐 over the net » i’ll tell you a random story from my life. (bonus points if you tell one of yours.)
🐚 shell collector » send me this emoji and i’ll show you some cool/random object that i own.
🌊 dance with the waves » just send me 2-4 facts about u + ur gender + angsty or fluffy + a character and i’ll give u a song from my playlist that’ll serve as your theme song with them! || AVAILABLE FANDOMS: Harry Potter (Marauders and Golden Trio), The Lunar Chronicles, The Maze Runner, and Stranger Things
⛱ shelter shade » tell me your first impression of me and i’ll tell you my first impression of you! (moots only!)
tagging my beloved moots under the cut and writing them a little something! <3 this is a long list so im sorry omg i probably should have made a separate moot appreciation post but i didn’t expect it to be this long and i’m too lazy hshshs anyway thank u!!!
Tumblr media
@mauvea, thanks for interacting. jk that’s not all ilysm!!! you’re hella fun to talk to and i enjoy ✹interacting✹ with you mwah <3 PAULA HNGGGG dobby simps unite
@selenesheart, i still haven’t forgotten you scripting draco to call you spanish pet names đŸ˜­âœ‹đŸ» i’m sorry nsndjww aside from that, ily! u cool af like- hnggg
@elevatorsdoor, DANIELAAA!!! no i still have not forgiven you for bombing my ships but you’re an effective person to be with in the diner so ig you’re alright 🙄 jk ily mwahhh
@railmeharrypotter, your url alone is *chef’s kiss* and omfg i love simping over harry w u hehe more simping days to come <3 iloveu sm omg you’re chaotic too and i love that (even tho u do me so dirty in cyms)
@lovegoodsgf, bestie you’re one of my first moots here i still remember the tongue twister days iykyk skskdnx i love you and your headcanons oml
@just-another-multifangirl, EMMA JAM EMMA JAM BABYYYY you’re literally so sweet??? and fun??? what a perfect combo ilysm my beloved chaotic, chaotic bestie!!!
@holden-caulfield, lia jfc i haven’t been reading a lot of fanfics lately but your works are literally so immaculate and perfect and immaculate and have i said perfect? i’m in love with your writing ilysm you’re like an older sister to me ily mwah <3 adding emojis for spice: đŸ€ȘđŸ˜đŸ„”
@mendesxruel, one o my first moots!!! you’re like an older sister but also a baby sister at the same time??? like i want to protect u but i want u to protect me too hSHSHS i love talking to u sm oml
@gothboutique, your url is so pretty like??? and you’re like one of the cool kidsâ„ąïž no actually you are hAHSBSA your posts are chaotically pleasing and that’s a fact. ily holly!!! :*
@romqnticizer, i’m low key scared of u sometimes because u have this intimidating aura but omfg when we talk you’re literally so cool and chill aaaaa đŸ‘čđŸ‘čđŸ‘č <this is the trademark of our friendship
@prettygirlkay, AYYYEEEE IT’S MY ANGST BESTIE AHAHAHAHA pls you’re so relatable and your writing is so pretty??? like??? i love u hnggg
@meiitanoia, you’re the sweetest person ever. there, i said it. you hype me up so good omg and you’re a literal sunshine ily <3
@shadesofvelma, i stand by vel&ves supremacy. we’re only either a comedy show because we’re a joke or a dramatic soap opera because
well, drama. jokes aside you give off cool kid energy i’m so honored to have u as a moot oml mwah bestie love u
@oeuryale, yep yep yep never forget cotton eye joe. ma’am you’re a ray of sunshine đŸ€§ ilysm and i enjoy interacting w u A LOT.
@eunoniaa, another famous moot what??27282 NIA you wholesome but also chaotic being ily!!! pls i’m still low key intimidated tho hHAHAAH
@hellounicorn, rhea rhea rhEAA A ANDID i honestly don’t know what to say except that every interaction with you is so eventful hHAHAHA you’re funny af and creative ;*
@gwlvr, i’d be lying if i said i don’t wait for your reblogs hHAHAHAHA omfg i feel so loved and appreciated whenever you quote my works!!! literally the best omfg thank you sm and iloveu mwah 💋
@slut4drvc0, babi omg we don’t talk much but ily hngggg *convulses* you’re so pretty omg and hella fun to talk to!!!
@starless-starkov, ah yes, my fellow cool person who also likes to change icons. but that’s ok, we’re both icons ;pp your name is so cute and pretty btw mwah love u
@potters-heart, well hello fellow harry simp. mad respect to you hAHHAAHHA i feel comfortable talking to u ily
@ronsmommy, jade we don’t interact much but i feel honored you’re a moot- YOU’RE FAMOUS HNGTJEIOWW anyway omg ily you talented af
@untowardflower, hello mum. SHSJEJW mara i look up to u oml i love u sm you’re such a spirit animal aaaaa ily
there’s literally so much more i want to say but can’t because this is gonna be a very, very long ass post. next time imma make a separate post for this mbad that’s on me and i can’t tag any more of u all :<
more moots i literally love with all my heart and i think deserve the world: @gxtitobxby @arcaneslut @mrzweasley @just2bubbly @gingerale2017 @illiicitarts @mellifluousart @omgrachwrites @amourtentiaa @roonilwazlibweasley @hey-there-angels @annemagus @babydraco04 @dracomalfoys-wh0re @ronsbadidea @ronsonlywhore @mais-e @cupids-crystals @damianxmeg @miss-casually-cruel @mistress-riddle @angeloniaa @alice1nwoderland @toms-diary @messrsmoonee @artxemqs @harmqnia @destourtereaux + LITERALLY EVERYONE AAAA ILY ALL MWAH MWAH
Tumblr media
130 notes · View notes
blueskrugs · 4 years ago
Text
5 Times You Posted about Him, and One Time He Posted about You | Chris Kreider
Tumblr media
I sent an anon to @kreiderrider​ way back at the end of April for Chris’ birthday and still haven’t stopped thinking about it, so apparently I’m writing it now. also for @bobohtuzzo​ for our never-ending loop of being mean to each other with Chris gifs.
TL;DR: this is Taylor’s fault for making me a Kreider girl, and and both hers Bayan’s fault for encouraging and enabling me.
length: 2.8k words
You knew when you started dating Chris that he was not social media’s biggest fan. And that was fine. You were hardly an influencer yourself, and you were pretty sure you followed more dogs than people on Instagram. So the pictures you took of Chris– Chris being cute, Chris doing mundane things, Chris with his bitchface on– stayed firmly in a locked album on your phone.
Until one day when you were sitting on the couch, leaning against Chris while he read a book, flipping through Instagram stories on your phone. One of your friends from high school had posted a cute picture with her boyfriend, and you paused to look at it. Chris rested his chin on your shoulder to peer at your phone. 
“They’re cute,” he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to your shoulder. You hummed in agreement. “How come you never post about me?”
You twisted around to look at him. “First of all, how do you even know that I don’t? Second of all, you want nothing to do with any sort of social media.” 
Chris flicked your nose. “Mika tells me things. And I don’t hate social media, I just don’t really get the point of it. Who the fuck cares what I’m doing every second of the day, who I got lunch with, where I got lunch? Anyway, I don’t really mind if you post about me every once in a while. I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide our relationship just because I avoid Instagram like the plague.” Chris pressed a kiss to your forehead to punctuate his sentence. 
You settled back in against Chris, resuming your mindless scrolling, and looking forward to the first opportunity to show off your boyfriend. 
Chef Chris Chris loved to cook. Part of it came from his absolutely ridiculous diet, you knew, but he also enjoyed the quiet time that cooking gave him, a way to be productive without requiring a ton of energy. The kitchens in either of your apartments were often filled with the smell of something good, for lunches, for dinners on nights off, for a quick meal after a game. Chris rarely let you help him with anything, which was fine because you preferred to bake, and it let you watch him. 
There was something about watching Chris cook that you just adored. He would always end up so focused, a strange intensity in his eyes that resembled the look he sometimes got on the ice. But then you would say something– a stupid joke that you’d seen on the internet, a funny story from work, or a something ridiculous your dog had done that morning– and he would laugh, his eyes lighting up again, and his dimples showing. 
Tonight, Chris was standing over the stove making a risotto. You had begged him for it during a rare full weekend off at home for the Rangers, and he had finally conceded. One of your playlists was playing softly in the living room, and you were perched on a barstool at the island, your dog curled beneath your feet. You weren’t sure if he wanted to be close to you, or if he was just waiting for Chris to give him a piece of chicken. 
Chris was stirring the risotto intently, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth a little bit. You were already scrolling through your phone, so you couldn’t resist snapping a quick picture for your Instagram story, simply throwing an emoji of a chef in the corner.
You were checking the views on your story later that night and responding to the few people that had replied to it, when Chris saw your phone screen. 
“Hang on, gimme that,” he said, pausing the hockey game he was watching. “How did I not notice you take this?” He looked closer at your phone. “And how many fucking followers do you have, holy shit.”
You took your phone back, seeing that Brett Howden had asked why he didn’t get any dinner. “I got a bunch more after I started dating you,” you said. Chris looked concerned. “Don’t make that face, you dork. I don’t really care, and if I did, I could just make my account private.” 
Chris still looked a little alarmed at the number of people who had seen him cook dinner, but he turned back to the hockey game, anyway. 
Sing Us a Song There was a piano in Chris’ apartment. It was tucked away in the spare bedroom, and he avoided playing it when people were over, even when it was just the two of you. You had lamented that fact once, and Chris had said something about just wanting to spend all his time focused on you. You let it go, but that didn’t mean you weren’t dying to hear him play, especially since everyone who had could only compliment him.
It was nearly Christmas when you let yourself into Chris’ apartment with your spare key. The two of you had spent an entire weekend decorating, and the space was absolutely filled with Christmas spirit. You had been baking cookies, and you were dropping some off for Chris to bring home to Massachusetts and his family. You smiled as you heard the familiar chords of “Celebrate Me Home” echoing through the apartment. Your penchant for listening to Christmas music at all hours was beginning to rub off on Chris finally. You paused, though, when you realized that the voice drifting through the apartment was not Kenny Loggins, but Chris. 
You set the cookies and your purse down gently on a counter, kicking off your snow boots and quietly making your way through the apartment. You peered around the doorway of the spare bedroom. Chris’ back was to you, since the piano faced the windows looking out over the city, as he continued singing. You slipped your phone out of your coat pocket and began recording. You made sure to keep quiet as Chris began playing “The Christmas Song.” You stayed there for a minute longer before putting your phone away and walking into the room.
Chris jumped a little as you put your hand on his shoulder. “Your hands are freezing, Christ, Y/N. How long have you been here?”
You kissed his temple. “Sorry. Just came to drop off cookies and couldn’t resist listening to you for a while. I wish you’d sing for me more often.” Chris blushed all the way up to his ears. 
Later that night, back home and with a pie in the oven this time, you edited the videos you took a little bit and put them up on your Instagram story. You left it captionless.
Your DMs were soon filled with people commenting on how talented Chris was and begging for more videos of him. You screenshotted them all– maybe a little smugly– and sent them to Chris. All you got back was an emoji sticking its tongue out at you. 
Somewhere on a Beach There was absolutely nothing that you loved more than a good vacation. As the Rangers’ bye week approached, Chris was getting desperate to get out of the city, and you were looking forward to a week on a beach.
The Rangers won their last game before the break, and then the two of you were on a plane to Hawaii for some valuable time in the sun. Chris had found a rental with a private stretch of beach, and you both had bags full of books to read.
“Chris, you need to put on sunscreen!” you yelled as he walked across the sand, sunglasses perched on his nose and book in hand, on the first day. He had complained but let you cover him in sunscreen; he got burnt anyway. 
Mika made a crispy potato joke later that night in response to Chris’ whiny text. 
You got a couple good Instagram posts out of the vacation. One was simply pictures of you that you had made Chris take– “like a good Instagram boyfriend, babe” – plus a couple well-executed timer shots of both of you on the beach: sandy toes, sunburnt nose. The other was a small collection of photos you took of Chris throughout the week, in various positions in various chairs, all with a different book. Your favorite was the time you had caught him asleep on the beach, book still clutched precariously in his hand, mouth hanging open as he burned in the sun. I will never understand how he can read a book a day and still never run out of books, you had typed as a caption. 
Dog Lover Chris was sick. You were sure he had been fighting through shit for nearly two weeks but had been too stubborn to admit it, and he had finally hit a wall. You had caught him leaning heavily against the bathroom sink that morning, dizzy and nauseous, as he attempted to get ready for practice; it still took both you and Mika yelling at him, with more than one threat to call Quinn and/or his mother, before he agreed to stay home. 
You had forced him to at least eat a piece of toast before you let him collapse on the couch under most of the blankets you had in your apartment. You sent Mika a picture of Chris in his fever haze, zoned out while watching the morning news. 
You luckily had the day off, so you were able to stay close to your idiot boyfriend with a penchant for ignoring injury and illness. It started storming after you ate lunch, rain lashing against the windows and lightning lighting up the dark New York sky, shrouded with clouds. Chris was still slouched on one end of the couch, barely having moved all morning. You were sitting at the other end with a book, his feet in your lap and thumb idly rubbing circles on his ankle, having ignored Chris’ protests that you were going to get sick, too. 
Later, when you were making dinner, you peeked into your living room to check on Chris. He had thrown most of his blankets onto the floor, and he was sprawled out on his stomach, solidly asleep. Your dog had crawled up onto the couch with him and was laying protectively over Chris’ legs. You smiled at them before reaching for your phone to take a picture. 
First you sent it to Mika: “Sometimes I think he’s only dating me for my dog.” with an eye roll emoji. Mika laughed at that one. 
Then you posted it on your Instagram, this time with the caption everyone knows dog cuddles are the best medicine. Your replies were flooded with get-well wishes for Chris. 
Best Friends Everyone knew that Mika and Chris were pretty much inseparable, both on the ice and off of it. You and Irma had bonded over it one night, when what was supposed to be a nice double date devolved into Chris and Mika discussing the chances of various teams winning the Cup. It had only been November. 
You teased the two about their codependency, but honestly it was endearing. Mika ended up over for dinner more nights than not, and you texted him more than you texted your mom. Mika sometimes crashed movie nights at Chris’ apartment, and all three of you ended up in a tangled mess of limbs and blankets before the end of the night without fail. It was completely undeniable that Chris loved Mika, so it was inevitable that you loved Mika, too. 
The Rangers were having another outdoor practice in Central Park. You loved going to any practice, but the outdoor ones were especially fun to watch. It always seemed like half of New York showed up to watch, and the boys were always more energetic and idiotic than usual.
You hung around close to the boards behind one of the goals during practice. You got some good pictures of the boys warming up, including one particularly cute one of Artemi sticking his tongue out at you. As practice went on, you took more pictures as various Rangers sped past you. The best opportunity was when Chris scored a – frankly ridiculous, honestly – goal over Hank’s shoulder, set up perfectly by Mika. They slammed into the boards next to you in celebration, and you managed to snap a great angle of that smile Mika seemed to reserve specifically for Chris.
All of the WAGs and families were allowed onto the ice after practice ended. You carefully made your way over towards where Chris and Mika were lazily leaning against the boards near one of the benches, nearly running over tripping over Igor’s dog in the process when he ran in front of you, gleefully dragging a leash behind him. 
Chris was facing you, but he didn’t see you approach. You, however, could see the dorky grin he had aimed at Mika from where he was slouching against the wall. As you got closer, you took out your phone and snuck one more picture of the two of them.
You couldn’t resist posting those pictures of your boys. You made sure to tag Mika, adding on the caption someone tell me how I can get a boy to look at me the way Chris and Mika look at each other. 
Mika replied with an eye roll emoji and a blue heart. Irma replied with about five cry-laughing emojis. Chris just looked offended. 
His Turn Chris had managed to convince you to join him for a week in Connecticut, and you had managed to convince him to let you drive up. He grumbled about it all the way out of the city. 
You had your sunglasses on and your hair was loose around your shoulders. Chris’ phone was plugged into your aux, but he had turned on your own road trip playlist. (He complained about your taste in music most of the drive, too.) As you got closer to Connecticut, Chris rolled the windows down. Every once in a while, you glanced over at him, only to already find him watching you with a smile on his face, eyes crinkly and dimple showing. 
You were singing the words to a Taylor Swift song at the top of your lungs, laughing as the wind ripped the words from your throat and out the window, when Chris reached over and picked up your phone. You turned to look at him.
“Eyes on the road,” he scolded, still holding your now-unlocked phone. You raised an eyebrow but turned back to the highway in front of you. 
The song changed again, this time to a Queen song, and you laughed again. Chris started singing along with you, and you forgot that he had been taking a picture of you. 
Later that night, long after the sun set, you got a notification that you had been tagged in a new Instagram post, by @2kreids0. You squinted at your phone screen, confused. You were sitting out on the porch under the stars, and Chris had gone in for dessert (something still stupidly healthy– “It’s the offseason, Kreider!” you had protested) only a couple minutes before.
Still frowning a little, you tapped on the notification. A picture of yourself, with the sun in your face and hair blowing out the window, laughing, eyes bright underneath your sunglasses, filled your screen. It could only have been taken by Chris in your car earlier. You looked at the Instagram handle again.
“Hey, babe?” you called as Chris stepped back outside, trying to balance two bowls and two glasses of wine. He looked up at you. “Did you make an Instagram?” Chris blushed. You looked back at the picture, this time reading the caption below it: I’ll drive anywhere with you, just to hear you sing your favorite songs. 
Chris had moved to stand next to you, still blushing to the tips of his ears. “I might have.” You laughed, taking your glass of wine from Chris’ hand and pulling him down for a kiss. 
“I thought you didn’t see the point?” you asked.
Chris shrugged. “I didn’t. Then you started posting pictures of me all the time, and I started to understand why people share the things they love for everyone to see.” 
“You’re a sap, Kreider,” you said, all fondness. You smiled at him from behind the rim of your wine glass as he took another picture of you. “Is this what I’m like?” you asked. Chris let out a surprised laugh. 
The next morning you were tagged again by Chris. You rolled your eyes. When you opened the notification, you saw the picture from the night before, but there was also a second one, one you didn’t know Chris had taken. It was of you, of course, but you were glaring at something on your phone over your coffee mug, glasses on and hair a mess. This time he had captioned it get you a girl who can do both. 
“Christopher!” You were already beginning to regret showing him exactly how to work Instagram the night before. As you heard Chris laughing his way down the stairs, though, you thought that you could really get used to it, even if Chris probably had some revenge posts in store for you. 
441 notes · View notes
kaebedom-me · 4 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
Ch💙ya brainrot is real they're so hot together like perma freeze also? Also!! If ch💙ya not canon why hydro and cryo artifacts same domain hmm?????? HM???
Modern!AU is pretty broad so I'll do like a general thing uwu
Lmao Kaeya's the type that's always on his phone but never replies to messages or answer his calls?
Like he'll reply a select few people but if you don't fall under it he won't
Bold face lies too he'll tell you his phone died while he's texting someone back to your face tf
Childe's phone is either always busted p badly or its a brand new one
It's cuz he's always be fighting and he rich rich
Y'all have a group chat like since y'all together uwu
Y'all never really have like personal convos either HAHAH it's always in the gc
Unless y'all planning surprises for each other
Kaeya is meme king, knows all memes even real obscure ones sends them to the gc all the time
Childe's the type to like take a selfie while he's away from y'all "a selfie just for you [kissy face emoji]"
You also get texts from him randomly "I'm gonna fight this person"
Kaeya's usually a step ahead HAHAH "no"
No context and then you'll get Childe's text ":("
Really cute!!!!!!! I think he video chats w his family almost everyday if not weekly? And if y'all around he'd tell y'all to join
I think Kaeya's super fashionable? Like his style immaculate [chef's kiss]
Childe's only fashionable cuz he's rich
Also the amount of Kaeya's piercings depends on how punk he is in the modern au uwu
But all modern AUs he has at least 1 nipple piercing and you cannot convince me otherwise
They're also both involved in shady shit like most modern AUs they're shady asf
You love them tho cuz they do be the best uwu
I think Kaeya has a lot of followers on social media because he's so fucking pretty
But he only post thirst traps because he's sexy and he knows it
His main account is a meme page
None of his friends excepted otherwise
Childe doesn't really so social media? Prolly cuz of his shady shit
This doesn't apply to all the modern AU tho just some uwu but like in general
Childe's like dirt rich like eat the rich rich so expect him to bring you to like real fancy dates and get really expensive gifts
I like to think he's a sugar daddy
Sugar daddy AU đŸ˜©
Kaeya's different like if you go out he gets free drinks a lot? Cuz he's so sexy
And he'd be like thanks!!! This my partner btw AFTER they buy him drinks
Cuz he's a lil shit
They both love taking pictures of you? If not selfies w the 3 of you?
They're just the type to flaunt their relationship uwu
They prolly have like a Spotify playlist filled w songs that remind them of you. Cuz they're cute like that
69 notes · View notes
sparrow-in-boots · 3 years ago
Note
đŸ‘Ÿ and to make it harder, it can't be from an AC related playlist<3
laaaaaame, now I can't do an infodump [pensive emoji] okie fine, let's see... Lionhearted - Billie Marten mostly, I just love her style, it's soft and has a yearning tone that just, *chefs kiss*, but also this is from my CĂĄrth and Robbie playlist, and it fits them both sm, they both feel like they aren't enough, and certainly not brave enough to face the shit they go through. And they both got a whole truckload of emotional baggage and trauma, and usually they don't share it with others, but they can with each other most of the time, and just.... soft..... ;v;
2 notes · View notes
stingslikeabee · 3 years ago
Note
đŸ’ƒđŸ»âžĄ to ask for a dance
send in one of the following emojis and my muse will react . accepting
They had been raiding all liquor stores of one of the buildings in Kabuki-cho for the better part of an hour; Melissa and Dyuuku had taken one of the cars from the Beach and returned to downtown to scrounge up some supplies for their respective activities back and the repurposed resort, focusing on the unknown little spots that most people wouldn't be familiar with in that area.
Between the two of them, they had a long list of tentative locations to visit and check - all the tiny places that only the residents frequented and which had better chances of having been untouched by other people in the Borderland. That day, Dyuuku had been following the former hostess along old bars and drinking joints she remembered seeing around - while also doing most of the heavy-lifting where the bottles were concerned and working as a bodyguard of sorts just in case something happened.
But it was a blessed afternoon - things were quiet. No one interrupted their hunt for alcohol and it was easier to forget the dangers of the world outside for a moment, particularly when Melissa found an old radio and dusted it off out of curiosity, fiddling with the buttons. Surprisingly enough - it turned on. Apparently it was powered by batteries, and old enough to work at the Borderland.
"Wow - do you think this can pick up something out there?" she asked the man, turning around to look at Dyuuku who was currently sitting behind the counter of the old bar they happened to be visiting. He was about to respond when some music came from the radio and it startled both of them - it was startlingly loud for the quiet setting they were in, and Melissa turned it down instinctively. A tense pause followed - both with ears and eyes wide open to try and capture any sound or movement from anyone else that could be around the building.
But no one came - they seemed to be really alone on that day. Releasing the air she had been holding in, the former hostess returned her attention back to the radio, and cautiously adjusted the volume. They hadn't dreamed it - the old thing was picking some dancing tunes, an old Beatles song even (a cover?). She laughed at the absurdity of it all - the fact that she was listening to sweet and innocent tunes like these in a land that was everything but.
"Would the lady grant me this dance?"
His voice had Melissa once more focusing on the chef - and the way he had his hand held out to her and a smile on her face got her mirroring his mischievous expression in a second. The woman left the area behind the counter to rejoin him, and couldn't hold back a burst of laughter when he raised his eyebrows at her and even bowed slightly.
"This lady would very much like to," she responded, giggling still by the time she took his hand - and was pleasantly surprised by how easily Dyuuku moved in sync with the music. Whoever was out there - they were going for a playlist of old dance songs and shuffled through some rockabilly classics, including the first covers by the Beatles that came on when they found the radio.
And well - apparently 'dancing' was also something to be added to the ever-growing list of the skills that Dyuuku possessed. She had never really seen him by the parties held at the pool area at the beach so Melissa had wrongly assumed he didn't care much for dancing - but apparently it just failed to be the right occasion (or type of music). He expertly led her, including some twists and turns when they were close, and then eventually pulled the ex-hostess up for a short, sweet kiss when one of the songs ended.
"I know we came for the booze but we really should bring this back with us - and batteries, if we find any at these abandoned kombini," he said, and Melissa nodded, an impressed smile coloring her lips while he gently helped her back to her feet and released his impromptu dance partner.
"Agree - no way you're not showing me what other moves you got after this surprise, Nakahara. Let's hope our mysterious broadcaster has a good playlist."
2 notes · View notes
chronophobica · 4 years ago
Note
15 mayhaps?
15: Talk about some of your favourite creators: what do you love most about their creations?
oh my goshhhh i have so many favorite people, I'm gonna have to limit myself to just sides creators on tumblr otherwise this will go on forever bdskfh
@rondoel - your art style is so fluid and expressive!!!! i love how the characters are all just so lively and filled with personality; not the mention the gorgeous outfits you put them in wow!! the high school au makes me grin like a madman every time I see a new part and the king au makes me want to scream thank you <3
@impatentpending - your writing is literally the light of my day, stars of my night *chefs kiss* the way you give each character their own tone of voice in my head???? didn’t even know that was possible I love you forever <3 kill the lights has been in my browser tabs on my phone for a whole month because I haven't had the time to get back to it but I'm on chapter 9 last I remember and I am So in love with logan and roman okay
@meowthefluffy - your art style is so soft and expressive, I feel like your sona would give me the best hug if I ever met her bfkdshfkds and also lust roman???? that boy gives me Feelings okay, I cant decide if I want to hug him, send him to therapy, or give him the Gay Eyes (or all three)
@romanapologist - hi i’d personally die for you and your art okay okay listen- roman protection squad?????? we can tag team and beat up janus, you have the vibes for it. also your animatics are incredible and i’ve rewatched the record player song one so often; I blame you entirely for that song ending up on three of my playlists
@spectralheartt - SPEC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! spec i love u and id die for u if u asked ok ur voice is angel song to my ears and ur edits are chocolate to my eyes (i like chocolate very much so you are in luck!!!!) i think i am incoherent but pretend there are heart emojis here bc I'm on desktop
creator asks!
45 notes · View notes
hedjblogr · 3 years ago
Note
Hello! :D I saw you ask for music suggestions in the tags of my clocktower post; while most of it isn't necessarily as 'bouncy' as the rest of your playlist I warmly recommend the Donkey Kong Country Tropical Freeze soundtrack as far as platforming goes! Check out the song "Wing Ding" for example, maybe you could like it! Have a good day :D
DKC music is (chef kiss emoji) so absolutely yes!!!
some chill with the bouncy would work well i think!
(also, since i found their playlist on spotify, methinks i'm gonna slap some Hyper Potions onto the list too, their music is great)
1 note · View note
thejeidhater · 4 years ago
Note
ANNIE!! congrats 100 is a big milestone!!! gimme all the moots ones please!
thanks graceđŸ„ș💖
đŸ„°- a compliment:
your whole blog theme is just âœšđŸ„°đŸ’– *chef kisses*
💌- a handwritten note: (pls don’t make fun of my awful handwriting hdhshsgssg)
Tumblr media
đŸ§â€â™€ïž- a list of things i associate with you/your blog:
penelope garcia
penemily
morcia
that one morcia scene on alaska
this emojiđŸȘ
this emojiđŸ€ 
🍂- a playlist with songs for each letter of your url/name:
m- money by the drums
o- oui ou non by angĂšle
r- redbone by childish gambino
c- choke by idkhow
i- i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys
a- amour plastique by videoclub
a- a-punk by vampire weekend
đŸ‘Ÿ- a reaction pic that reminds me of you:
Tumblr media
i don’t really know why so don’t ask me😭😭
3 notes · View notes
measureformeasure · 4 years ago
Note
u already know what's going on... music note emoji for hamlet, horatio, and/or ophelia! depending on how many u wanna do!
ok so i was like ‘how abt hamlet & horatio & ophelia’ and then i was like ‘wasnt i gonna make a playlist for them anyway’ and then i made a playlist but!! here are the ones with the most accurate vibes.
the happy ones - beatrice eli oh GOD this song is so. chefs kiss. the vocaaaals. aside from that this has that good good “things are awful rn, but i love you” energy. also yes. hamlet does need therapy. all of them do.
obsessions - marina and the diamonds hhh.. anxiety. is hamlet/horatio/ophelia a healthy or bad relationship? apparently i can’t decide. this song is raw and awful and it makes a little more sense for hamlet/ophelia but ghhhh they are all mentally ill and struggling it’s projection hours.
a better son/daughter - rilo kiley i have never in my life heard a better hamlet song. the hatred for a mother. the depression. the everything sucks. but this one is more hopeful and there’s support from his friends and his family and horatio & ophelia. 
thank u!!!!
7 notes · View notes
soulwillower · 5 years ago
Note
lethal combination is my favorite song by The Wombats đŸ„șđŸ„șthe acoustic version is *chefs kiss* (also if I may request usage of the 🧠 emoji ty ily)
i kNOW ugh i think my fav song by them is give me a try tbh but lethal combination the acoustic is so GOOD i have it on my writing playlist i just love it
<3
3 notes · View notes
caffeineivore · 5 years ago
Text
Commission #2
For @nelwynp. Based off a very very old ficverse from wayyyyyyy back in the day called “Freckles” which may or may not be found on LJ. Makoto/Nephrite.
Commissions are still open!! Check out the details here or all the other commissions currently available here!
Long distance relationships are statistically known to suck, and honestly, I wouldn’t have considered myself the rose-coloured glasses type. The real world doesn’t care that you’ve probably, maybe, already gotten your share of crap thrown at you, starting from the death of your parents, and think maybe it should cut you a break. I knew the chances of Nick and myself making it were slim. He would be busy, surrounded by strangers a whole two states away. Sure, we’d known each other since we were kids, and maybe by now, he had become the one constant in my life-- my North Star, perhaps-- that forever friend who’d seen me at my worst and didn’t care in the least. And maybe--- maybe, finally, I’d finally told him those three words that had been nagging at the back of my subconscious for the last year of our acquaintance. He’d said them back, and it was only then that I realized how much I’d needed to hear and say them.
Still, I saw him off on that cloudy morning with dry eyes and homemade eggs Benedict-- that is to say, that I fed him and double-checked to make sure that he had not misplaced anything important. The apartment that he’d been living in was stripped bare, and all of his worldly goods were in the trailer of the U-haul which would take him to his new home. I was plugging his phone into the car charger in the front console when his arms wrapped around me from behind, and turned me to face him. 
Nick has always been a good-looking guy, in that sort of rugged, All-American way, with broad shoulders and a great smile, and I’d learned at some point in our long acquaintance that he gave the best hugs-- the type that lifts you slightly off your feet and makes you feel like some type of dainty damsel even when you’re six feet tall in heeled boots. It’s no different now, and maybe I hung on for a moment too long, myself. He’s not much of a cologne guy, but his sweatshirt smells like laundry soap and I’m pretty sure he’d used my shampoo that morning again, because his hair’s super soft-- and the flowery scent is not nearly as girly on him as it is on me. 
“Call me when you get there.” I hope to Hell, of course, that the fact that my voice is muffled against his neck disguises the unsteadiness.
“I’ll call you every day.”
I wouldn’t hold him to it, of course, but I didn’t say anything to that effect, and I watched as he drove off, and then headed off to the gym for a punishing three-mile run on the treadmill followed by a full hour of kickboxing to a playlist of angry girl rock, and if I cried in the shower afterwards, no one needed to know that.
He did call that night, though. And the night after. And the night after that. And soon, it had become a routine, and maybe I should have given him more credit the whole time. Before I knew it, two months had passed, and he flew down for a long holiday weekend, and after we’d christened three separate rooms in my apartment, we got caught up in person. I’d heard so much about his new place and the people he’d met at his new school that I probably could’ve picked his favourite and least favourite professors out of a crowd. 
This became a thing, and so for two years, we did the long distance thing. He heard about the awful day when the stand mixer went rogue and how I was still picking bits of cake batter out of my hair two hours later. I heard so much about one particularly persnickety city inspector on a project he worked on that I learned to hate the guy as much as Nick did. Our reunions were sporadic, rapturous and never long enough, though half the time we eschewed actual dates in favour of staying in and just being ourselves together-- watching movies, working out, buying groceries and cooking meals, falling asleep so close together that it was hard to tell where one of us ended and the other one began. 
We spent that first Thanksgiving at my place-- Friendsgiving, really, cooking a huge meal in a too-small kitchen, inviting all of our old friends. I shooed Nick and James out of my kitchen and chatted with Raye as she snapped a bowl of green beans for me and sounds of the football game filtered in through the living room. She was a ball of nerves-- James would be meeting her very formidable, very rich, very conservative father when he went over to her home for Christmas. Said father would not be amused to find his only daughter not only dating, but actually fully living in sin with a mouthy city boy-- when Nick had moved out, James and Raye had gotten an apartment together. Amy and Zach had arrived a bit later, because he’d had to pick her up from the hospital where her shift had run over. Kevin and Mina, on the other hand, were at her parents’ house out of state. She’d texted me all types of sad face emojis about how the cranberry sauce had come out of a can and the mashed potatoes had come out of a box, but I had no sympathy. She had parents who cooked for her for Thanksgiving, didn’t she? Besides, if she really cared about food over time spent with them and Kevin, she would have told them that she had Ebola and came over to my place instead.
At any rate, against all the odds, we somehow managed to make it work, and two years, three months and six days after that first time that I told him I loved him, he was on his way down to visit again. I’d gone up to see him get his Master’s degree two months ago and he’d taken me out around the town to celebrate with his friends and classmates. Some of them had met me before, but to those who hadn’t, he introduced me as his girlfriend, and from the easy acceptance, I knew that everyone present had some idea of our history. It had been a wonderful weekend, but I was a bit nervous about seeing him again today. Something had come up, very recently, and I wasn’t sure how he would take it.
At first, I had thought nothing of the symptoms. Fatigue and a bit of nausea doesn’t tend to alarm anyone right off the get-go. Everyone knows restaurant hours are brutal, and as an apprentice chef, any task, no matter how mundane or unpleasant, might get assigned to me on any given day. Certainly, I might get to spend one day arranging delicate edible flowers and a compote of ripe berries around and on top of fancy panna cottas, but the very next, I might be doing nothing but washing dishes and running out garbage. The kitchen I work in specializes in a rotating seasonal menu, and at the time, calamari was in season. Certainly it is delicious deep-fried with casino butter and lemon wedges, sprinkled with sea salt and cracked black pepper, but it’s definitely not as appealing raw, slimy and fishy-smelling. It’s enough to make anyone lose their appetite doing prep early in the morning. But then I was late. And not to work, if you know what I mean. One week stretched into two, then three. The nausea didn’t go away, even when my day consisted of making large quantities of bourbon vanilla buttercream frosting for strawberry white chocolate cakes. It was a week ago that I picked up two different pregnancy tests from Walgreen’s. Both results had come back to tell me what I kind of already knew, deep down, and I was honestly terrified down to the bone.
I had always wanted to have that maybe-stereotypical home and family someday-- the cute house with gingerbread trim and the white picket fence and the garden full of old-fashioned flowers, a husband who loved me and our children and went to baseball games and dance recitals with equal enthusiasm. I wanted to be able to be the mom who baked cupcakes for the bake sale and cookies for the big jar on the kitchen counter, and volunteered to chaperone field trips to the science museum. That had been my own mother, from those distant reaches of old memories, and though I’d lost her, I knew that it was in me to keep her legacy alive. 
But I had not intended to do so when I had just started my career, unmarried and still living in a tiny college-campus apartment, with a boyfriend who lives two states away, who might not even want kids. God! That was a discussion we’d never even had. 
The door swings open, though, before I could think about it any more. Nick has a key to my place, of course, as I do to his. Sometimes he calls, but sometimes he just arrives, like today, a little ahead of schedule. I’m caught up in one of those long, tight hugs, a warm and familiar hand cupping the back of my neck, and maybe he feels a hint of desperation in my kiss. When he pulls back, his eyes are warm, but full of concern. “Everything okay, Freckles?”
“Ugh. Can you not call me that? We’ve talked about that.” Oh, Gods... A baby with his brown hair and my green eyes. His dimples and my freckles. I can almost picture a little girl, toddling on chubby legs, riding on his shoulders, picking dandelions in the yard and blowing the fluff away in the wind. I’d teach her to bake chocolate chip cookies and read her stories where the princess saved herself and buy her pretty dresses for picture day and sturdy jeans for playing outside in. I loved her already, but she wasn’t supposed to even exist. 
“Habit. And you scrunch your nose up when you’re mad, and I shouldn’t like it, but I do.” Nick presses another, shorter kiss to my mouth, then tips up my face. “But you seem a bit out of sorts. What’s wrong?”
“How could you tell if I’m out of sorts or not when you literally just walked in two minutes ago?” It’s an evasion, and I’m sure he can and will spot the bullshit and call me out on it. 
“Because I’ve known you since we were kids, and you don’t have to say or do anything for me to know when you’re out of sorts.” Nick pulls me gently over to the love seat, and sits me down, keeping one of my hands in his as though he expects me to bolt at any moment. “Everything’s okay, right? You didn’t have anything particularly horrible at work this week that I recall from our conversations.”
No, this week hadn’t been bad. Breaking down chickens is fairly mindless work once you get the hang of it. And the resulting bone broth is wonderful for someone who finds it difficult to keep food down some days. Nick deserves the truth, of course, and maybe the ripping-off-the-bandaid approach is best. I shut my eyes to his all-too-perceptive, all-too-loving gaze, and set my teeth.
“I’m pregnant.”
His hand tightens on mine and his next inhaled breath is sharp, but I plow on. “I know it’s not expected, and I know we were careful, but
 it is what it is. You don’t have to worry, though. I’m not some delicate little miss who’s afraid of raising a child. The executive chef at work loves me, as he should, and I’m sure they’ll work with me when the time comes for maternity leave. And in this day and age, it’s not a big deal to be a single mom. I’m keeping this baby and she’s going to get the best life that I can give her, growing up.” I don’t know why I was so certain I was having a little girl. But she already existed, to me, and at that moment in time, she was probably only the size of my pinkie nail. “She will never doubt, for a moment, that she’s loved.”
“Of course not.” Nick finally speaks, and his voice is an awed, slightly choked-up whisper. I sense him moving, then one big, warm hand rests on my still-flat stomach, followed by the press of his lips. “We’re having a baby. Wow. Okay, so I guess I should get on with what I’d already planned to do, even though I’d planned for this to be a lot more romantic.” Belatedly, I realize that not only has he moved, but he is down on his knees in front of me, one hand on my stomach, the other one digging into a pocket, and then he pulls out a small black velvet box, flicks open the catch.
I’m not much of a jewelry type of girl-- I wear the same earrings, every single day, but working in a kitchen greatly limits the practicality of going around with bracelets and rings and do-dabs. Still, stereotypical though it might be, I’d always wanted that classic diamond solitaire engagement ring from my husband-to-be, and now, when it’s staring me in the face-- princess-cut and set in platinum, I find myself speechless. 
“Lita Oakley, love of my life, will you marry me?”
Of course he doesn’t mince words. In a lot of ways, I guess we’re past that point. But I draw my hand back a moment before he can slide that ring on. 
“I don’t want you to propose to me because I’m pregnant and you feel obligated. You’d end up regretting it, and that would kill me.” We didn’t live together now, but if we did someday, and then it all went south, and I had to walk into an empty house bereft of his presence and his things and even the way he’d always kick his shoes off any which way by the door rather than make sure they’re put up where no one can trip over them, I knew it would break me in a way that hadn’t been possible since my parents’ deaths.
Nick rolls his eyes, though, and huffs out a breath before digging deeper into that little velvet box, all the way underneath the white satin. He takes out a crinkled paper receipt, and unfolds it, and drops it on my lap. “You are so stubborn. Do you know that? Take a look at that receipt, will you? Just
 humour me.”
I do. It’s from some jeweler in his state, and the price of the ring of course makes me wince a little. It’s definitely not cheap. But then I read it a little closer, and see the time stamp on the top. It was purchased at 4:26 PM on the sixth of December, two whole years ago. Perhaps six months after he’d moved away.
“I got it as soon as I could afford it, and I’d been saving up for a while. Probably not very well-thought-out of me, when everything was so up in the air. But I’d always known that we’d be here together, someday, and I’d be asking you to marry me. Anyway, it’s got nothing to do with the fact that you’re pregnant and everything to do with the fact that I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember, and there’s no one else in the world for me, and it’s too late to return this ring, anyway.” He pulls it out of the box, and I see something shining, trailing from it. “I know you can’t really wear rings, working in a kitchen. So I also got a necklace that you can wear this on, if you’ll just say yes. Please say yes.”
“How are we going to do this?” I blurt out, as that other infamous symptom of pregnancy-- emotional hormonal tears-- makes its appearance. I blink and try to sniffle them away, but Nick simply puts the ring on my finger, silvery necklace dangling from it, and gets up to his feet, pulls me gently to mine. “You live so freaking far away.”
“Not anymore I don’t.” He tugs me close, and kisses me again. “My lease is up in a month. I figure I can get another U-haul, and con the guys into helping out. I’m pretty sure that the people can put a good word in for me to get hired in somewhere local-- dumb jock notwithstanding, I worked my ass off these last few years and have the credentials and grades to prove it. Since my lease is up in a month anyway, might as well look for a new place to live. Some place that can be baby-proofed, and definitely not a top floor apartment with a janky elevator like here. Can’t have my pregnant fiancee struggling up five flights of stairs every day.”
He makes it seem so simple, really, as he pulls me in for what promised to be an extended cuddle session. 
But maybe-- maybe it would be. 
9 notes · View notes