#on that note im about to continue the recipe picking

[pseudophan]

I need you to blog harder. More passion. More footwork. Like i am really working with crumbs of serotonin and believe it or not you are one of the sources. Pls

you're so right actually i've been slacking bad recently for various reasons but one of my biggest hurdles (no functional computer) was just solved so things might be looking up. i'm stressing like hell over the cookbook though, i just really need to finish choosing the recipes so i can contact everyone and get the complete recipe and figure out who's got photos and who doesn't and all that shit. the actual design aspect i'm not too worried about like i'll get that done but this part where i need to contact everyone early enough to give them time to write what they want to write (if they want to write anything, i mean it can just be the recipe but some extra stuff is very cute :3) is STRESSFUL!!! 😭

fr though i really haven't been blogging enough lately and it's been bothering me lmao. like if i was hardcore working on things it would be fine but mostly i'm just sat here stressing about not working on things like girl okay....

[fairykazu]

GINGERBREAD COMPETITION WITH CHILDE contents // established relationship, cheesy pick up lines / nicknames, baking chaos, one f bomb notes // i wanted this to be longer but ive delayed it for so much. hopefully by the time this is up im working on the next oneshot masterlist

childe had that look in his eyes, the fighting spirit he gets when he gets an idea to fight with you. playfully, of course. "babe," you weren't looking in his direction, instead, you were wrapping bows over the presents.

once he gets an idea, he never lets it go. "babe," he began to pester you, poking you in the sides while you were as still as a rock, used to of his antics. he started to frown, "babe, name, c'mon, aren't you my my sweet pea pookie? the apple of my eye?"

didn't phase you yet? don't worry, he still has a lot of nicknames up his sleeve. you began to wrap more presents. "sweetie muffin?"

you know if you give in, you have to listen to whatever he says to say for the moment but if you don't, he will pressingly continue with the cringe nicknames to make you listen to his announcement. as much you do want to know his announcement, you also wanted to finish wrapping presents as soon as possible.

"pumpkin butter honey biscuit..." that actually sounds really good. he pouted, it's really cute how he pouts despite the current circumstances. he's like a pitiful dog.

you were keeping your defenses up until he got closer to the nape of your neck, whispering, "sweet mcdreamy nutter butter... please..."

now that was terrible, you winced, "what?" he smiled when he finally got your attention, he cleared his throat while he held a fake microphone, "ahem, may i announce an idea?"

after finishing two bows, you tapped your chin with your finger, pretending to think, "hmmmm," you looked into his cerulean eyes pleading you to say yes. "you may."

already from your answer, he was with glee. he began to act like a host in those reality tv shows, "in honor of the winter spirit and tsarita, i say, 'we shall, have a gingerbread competition!'"

the idea has crossed your mind but considering the baking skills and how much childe likes to wing his recipes, "gingerbread competiton? who's going to make the bread?"

he smiled, "we are!" snaking his arms around your waist, pulling you up from the floor. you tapped on his shoulder as he sets you down, you furrowed a brow,

"the recipe?"

childe waved his phone around, "xiangling!"

you nodded, thankful that childe wouldn't wing the cookies this time. last time it was too salty when salt was supposed to enhance the sugar in the gingerbread. "okay, fine. what's the prizes?"

he exhaled nervously as you peered at him, "i didn't think this far. i thought you would reject my idea."

"start with the thinking pretty boy!"

flustered a little, he replied back with "ok, my sugar snookums."

you sighed, "i need you to stop with these, ajax." he laughed a little,

"these won't stop, pookie dookie bookie."

⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆

as the ingredients are prepped and ready, the challenge is set. the person with the best house, voting decided on instagram, would win by choosing the christmas movie and halloween costume for the next year, which isn't a prize per say but childe thinks so. despite the fact, you suggest he should choose and he always faltered to go with yours.

childe rolled up his sleeves as you tidied up your hair. glancing at your boyfriend, you recalled back when people had told you different rumors about him. how he was a playboy or indifferent cold hearted person, despite it all, you didn't fall for those.

but one particular one caught your attention, one being his eyes being always blank, missing a shine in his eyes. but when you look into his, it's always filled with light like how the sea reflects the light in every wave in sunny afternoons. "babe? is something wrong?"

"yeah," you replied as childe's face became concerned. he held your head in his hands, inspecting anything on your face.

"what's wrong?"

"you're too pretty."

he giggled, twirling one ginger lock around his fingers before turning around, clearing his throat. a dust of pink across his face, "i mean, thank you, babe. i appreciate it!! um, let's get started, yeah!!"

it was an hour in, the gingerbread cookies were done baking, cooling off away from the oven. while you were sketching your idea for your house, thinking about a castle or maybe a cottage? childe tapped your shoulder, you turned to his direction,

"hey girl, mind if we take a picture?"

you ignored him and continued to draw, "hey, c'mon," he pouted as sighing as you turned to him again. "'cause i need to show Santa exactly what i want for Christmas." he winked as you laughed,

"okay, childe."

"im the rizzler- wait what?"

"what?"

"childe? not even babe? you hate me!" childe bawled, dramatically draping his hand against his forehead. "didn't know that you are such an ice queen. i think im going to get a frostbite from your gaze of hatred and bullying," he started to frown, eyes pretending to water.

he's so dramatic. you sighed deeply, snaking your arms around him. he burrowed his head into your shoulder, soaking up the attention you're giving him, "i apologize, my blizzard babe, i'm trying to win the competition."

childe's jaw dropped, "YOU SAID A CHEESY NICKNAME???? i can't believe youre getting into the christmas spirit." he silently cheered as you retorted,

"and no one will believe you that i did."

"fuck."

[noellefan101]

Baby Sitting Is Not Always Easy

Characters: Klee, Qiqi, Sayu

Summary: you were asked to baby sit them, how did it go?

Warnings: fully platonic!!, not romantic, reader is not the traveler, bombs(klee), maybe ooc

Note: i wanted to do smt for the kids, so here i am. if you think of them romantically, get out of here, pls. (Man I hate writer's block, I have litterlly no ideas for anything) updated with: wtf this is so long ago im finally f*cking done, luv you

Klee

You were so kindly asked by Jean and Albedo to babysit Klee for a few days/you don´t know if you regret that or not/since it was a busy time for the nights, and you were their best option that weren´t too busy.

you didn´t do much the first day, other than trying to get Klee to not bomb something. and then getting her to play small games all day instead, so you played hide and seek for at least a few hours. in the middle of a game of hide and seek she got a little distracted with some crystal flies in the area, and started trying to catch some for you. she eventually caught one and showed it to you, and then made you get down to her level so she could put it in your hair.

What she enjoyed the most: she mostly enjoyed it when you let her bomb something, even though it was just a ruin guard(it was away from people, and couldn´t harm anything). and she also loved to make glitter bombs with you, though now there´s glitter all over you both.

"If big brother albedo and all the other nights are busy again, could big sibling y/n come and babysit Klee again" that´s what she asked you on the way home, with her best puppy eyes i might add.

Qiqi

It was really hectic in the pharmacy, so Baizhu kindly asked you to look after Qiqi for a day or two, since they were all busy and also didn't want Qiqi to work too much. Although she wanted to help.

What she enjoyed the most: she really liked when you helped her gather some flowers for Baizhu. she wasn´t asked to do it, but she overheard some of the workers there needing some more flowers for someone's medicine, so she wanted to help out. but of course, she was under your watch, so you helped her get them.

She got distracted a few times, by finces, pretty flowers/veiws, and ofc Yao Yao, speaking of Yao Yao, she joined you both half way since she had also went flower collecting, as she wanted to make a flower crown for granny. and she was helpfull for sure, especially with keeping Qiqi occupied and not getting distracted as often. she had to leave at some point though, so you helped Qiqi say goodbye and get the last few flowers before carrying her back to the pharmacy.

When you got back Qiqi was about half asleep, and was even worse at remembering things, but it was fine, and you would totally do it again.

"if Baizhu is... uhm extra busy again can you... look after Qiqi again?" she asked just after you had gone collecting flowers with her how is a zombie that fucking adorable.

Sayu

you were asked by the Kamisato siblings, and Guuji Yae herself, to babysit Sayu for them. of course you accepted the task (otherwise you wouldn´t be here, duh) and were told to pick her up the next morning. as they were all going to be busy with preparing for a festival that's coming up, as well as with the rest of the shrine.

the first day was rather normal, for her at least. she slept through almost all of it, while you just carried her around, and did some other tasks you also had to do that day.

the second day was the most interesting, in your words. maybe it was the fact that she had to do some training. or maybe it was you cooking for her, cooking whatever she wanted. but she loved the food you cooked for her, and even wanted to try herself. so you taught her how to cook some basic recipes of your own, she was pretty good at it, but was very tired after the first two. so you put her to sleep for a few hours, and then you could continue after if she wanted.

What she enjoyed the most: the thing she enjoyed the most was(ofc)sleeping, on your lap to be specific. she normally sleeps a lot but it just felt better on your lap that day, especially because nobody could come and annoy her about work.

"y/n? can you come and babysit me again? i would love to sleep like this again" she asked while half asleep in your lap.

Thank you for reading this "small" fic of mine, luv you-Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

[wooahaes]

spending time with you makes me so happy (its making me smile right now)

pairing: non-idol!jeonghan x fem!reader

genre: fluff!

word count: ~0.8k

warnings: food mention!

daisy’s notes: me to holly when i planned this: sorry for what im writing for jeonghan-

As much as you trusted Jeonghan to pull together a decent birthday dinner... You still didn’t let him cook alone.

He’d already laid out the recipe for tonight. It was something you love, because he wanted to do something special for you. Yet you had picked up the other apron when you came home, and asked him to tie for you so that you could help. He’d frowned at first, reminding you that he could handle himself just fine (and if not, Mingyu was just a call away), but he knew your real reasoning: you liked cooking with him. It made you happy to feel useful, so he let it all go and carefully tied your apron for you. With a gentle kiss on your cheek, he started to instruct you on what needed to be done with this subtle smile on his face that was full of am intimate fondness for nights like these.

(And he felt that smile grow when you answered with a “Yes, chef!” just to tease him after he finished giving you his orders.)

So the two of you worked together in this calm quiet with only slight conversation flowing between the two of you. You had visited some friends earlier today for brunch, and called your parents a few hours ago, and Jeonghan always took interest in anything you liked to share about your day. Seungcheol had bought you a few face masks that you’d been eyeing up the last time the two of you casually went shopping together (for a present for Mingyu, Jeonghan was pretty sure--he’d already bought something and you wanted to give Mingyu something without your boyfriend’s name attached to it). Of course, he had to hear plenty about it later from the others who spotted you and Seungcheol together--something about how you looked “like Seungcheol’s girlfriend” based on the doting way he treated you, just as a light way of teasing him. It never bothered him (that was why people continued to make the jokes), plus it meant that he knew you were being taken care of by his friends.

He still had the picture that Vernon sent him of you and Seungcheol out that day, where Seungcheol had taken your bags for you, like a gentleman... and he’d been given the delightful opportunity to act offended, asking Seungcheol what the hell this was before his friend quickly realized that he was just teasing.

(Truthfully, you told Jeonghan that Seungcheol would carry his bags, too, if he was tired. Maybe he’ll invite him out with the two of you next time you have some shopping to do, just to see if you were right.)

Genuinely, it warmed his heart a lot to know that you were being doted on by his close friends. He was stirring a sauce for your meal while you recounted how Joshua had sent you a sweet birthday text this morning, saying something.. rather sappy about how happy he was that you and Jeonghan had found one another. Things that Jeonghan had already heard before when Joshua confessed one night that he thought the two of you fit together perfectly, all while a bit drunk on wine.

“Honey?” He had spoken up at one point, gesturing for you to come over. “Can you taste this for me?”

You finished what you were doing, having been almost done, and made your way across your tiny shared kitchen to him. He held up a spoon so that you could taste, and he watched as you thought it over for barely a few seconds before your eyes lit up with pure joy. Pride swelled in his chest: he had made it perfectly for you.

“It’s delicious,” you said after a moment, realizing that your starstruck expression alone probably wasn’t what Jeonghan wanted to hear (although it had definitely been enough). “Is this from the recipe I gave you...?”

“It is,” he smiled, leaning forward to peck your cheek. “I can handle the rest, honey,” he said. “Go rest, okay? You’ve had a busy day.”

With a quick peck against his lips, you agreed after a moment. He knew you well enough: you hadn’t had much downtime to yourself. As much as you insisted that being around him was different, he wanted you to rest. Besides... The sooner he got you out of the kitchen, the safer his little birthday surprise to you would be. The small cake in the fridge had gone completely unnoticed by you so far. You had come home earlier than he thought and spoiled his plan to surprise you with dinner...

... So that was why he had the back-up plan. At least he could surprise you with that and a softly sung “happy birthday“ when all was said and done.

taglist: @twancingyunhao​ @wonuziex​ @synthetickitsune​ @cinnamoroxie​

[voidsumbrella]

crepes

---

pros: straightforwards, easy to remember recipe with minimal non-staple ingredients; leftovers keep well; good for breakfast *and* dinner; makes for a good "everyone hang out in the kitchen and cook together" party food

cons: cooking technique can be fidgety and requires a bit of practice to get consistent; requires a lot of standing over the stove (might want a stool or smth)

---

minimum equipment:

mixing bowl

spoon/whisk

1 cup measure; 1 tbsp* measure; 1/2 tsp measure

decently sized flat skillet, preferably lightweight

spatula for flipping

*unless your butter has the measurements on the stick, in which case you don't need this one

optional/upgraded equipment:

blender large enough to mix the batter so you don't have to whisk it as much

a ladle is the easiest way to measure the batter ime

they make specialty crepe pans and spreading sticks- i don't have them, but they seem cool.

---

ingredients:

2 eggs

2 tbsp melted butter

1 cup milk

1 cup flour

1/2 tsp salt

notes:

if you're making dessert or sweet crepes you can add 1 tsp sugar

can be doubled or tripled as needed

milk can be non-dairy

butter can be subbed with any neutral oil

i haven't tried using gf flour but it probably works fine

if you can't eat eggs you might need to find a different recipe entirely

---

instructions:

mix all ingredients- add the melted butter last so it doesn't clump up as much. if you're mixing by hand, get it as smooth as you can and then let it sit for about 15-20 mins so any remaining lumps can dissolve. using a blender results in fewer lumps to begin with, so you don't have to wait.

heat your skillet up on medium-low, you don't need to add oil or anything, there's enough in the batter to keep it from sticking

spoon batter- the amount is going to vary based on the size of your pan, but roughly a quarter cup or so- into the center of the pan, and spread it thin using one of a variety of methods:

if your pan is light, you can pick it up and tilt it in a circle so the batter coats as much of it as possible. this leaves a thin crispy edge, but is otherwise fairly consistent.

you can use your ladle or spatula to push the batter around until it's thin. definitely easier on the wrists, but i personally am very bad at getting it even.

this is what the fancy sticks are for!! i can't give advice on that one though.

if your batter's thin enough it might spread on its own, but that usually indicates that the pan isn't hot enough.

cook until the top of the crepe is solid/there are no more shiny liquid spots, and the edges are just starting to crisp, then flip- the underside should be evenly brown. continue cooking until steam starts coming from underneath, and there are light brown patches where the crepe is directly touching the pan. this process happens faster than you expect it to- maybe a minute or so each side.

remove from heat promptly- they'll be a bit crunchy, but will relax if you let them let sit for 30-ish seconds.

repeat until you're out of batter!

fillings can include jam, powdered sugar and lemon juice, just butter, peanut butter, spinach bacon cheese goop (that's it's own post), or whatever you want to fit in there.

---

troubleshooting:

crepe doesn't spread easily: your batter's too thick, add more milk/milk sub/water in 1 tbsp increments until it works.

crepe sticks to pan: not enough butter/oil, add some in 1/2 tsp increments until it works. just greasing the pan won't actually fix it.

crepe dries out and gets crunchy before browning: your heat isn't high enough.

crepe burns before cooking through: your heat's too high.

crepe smells and tastes like rancid canola oil: you are me from 2020. cry for 5 minutes and remake the batter.

[cerealmonster15]

a bit of both- I was too scared to go off anon cuz I would've been embarrassed if I was wrong 😭

They INVENTED divorce. You get it.

And I DONT MIND YOUR THOUGHRS ARE SO SILLY!! pls invitation to come back on stage and scream about the guys ever 🥺

ksjdlfdsklfj I Understand 🙏 i hope it is ok that i took this message as an excuse to Continue Going Wild

head empty only tiny guy doodles now

while i was doodling i remembered ruggie and silver both have a vignette with jade where Food Is Involved... im obsessed w/the one where jade gives his mushrooms to the cafeteria bc azul and floyd banished them, and silver has them the next day and is like This Is The Best Risotto Ive Ever Had In My Life. and jades just watching him like 👁️👁️ and theres the one where ruggie accidentally takes jades ingredients and is like OH SHIT DONT KILL ME here i'll teach you a cool recipe!!!! i love how often these boys bond over food actually.... ruggie helped kalim cook in another vignette... jade and kalim talked about tea [and then jade died bc kalim uses too much sugar LOL]

more rambling and screen shots i have to go bonkers or i will die

oh my god and the second tsum event. theres the cutest little rythmatic of jamil kalim floyd and azul in the kitchen with tsums 😭😭😭 i want the second years to have a potluck........

ALSO i love in the first volume of the twst anthology, chapter 13 where it basically turns into the second years coming together and trying to help silver stay awake and hanging out EXCEPT THE FISH ARE NNNNOT INVITED!!! or like. theyre just not in that story fdslkjfds and jamil just shows up at the end..

KALIM'S SO CUTE HE'S SOOOO EXCITED He just JUMPS IN like OH DID SOMEONE SAY FRIENDSHIP STUDY GROUP???????

also

why did he do that. he was talking about riddle and they literally got riddle involved bc ruggie suggested it but here's the thing!!! silver is the one that needed notes bc he fell asleep. kalim joined up and was like lets study together and have a feast!! so ruggies like oh hell yea im in it for the food. why did he decide riddle needed to be there 🤔 i mean maybe he did actually want to study and/or didnt wanna be the one suckered into leading the study session LOL but. i think it kinda just looks like he wants to hang out with riddle jflsjeklkj like he literally later says "but im here for the feast" so WHY did you get RULES ABIDING RIDDLE involved HMMM??? watching you ruggie bucchi.

theyre literally SO cute i LOVE the anthology mangas SO MUCH and i really wish they'd make a third one!!!

god i actually. forgot a lot about this one LOL there's a lot of cute moments w/them 😭

ALSO now that im at my computer i could search better and i FOUND THE POST where i talked endlessly about riddle/floyd. i still stand by all of that. and theres cute anthology moments in there too.

third year divorce jumpscare while im in the anthologies

i love them theyre so fucking funny. also why are there So Many Times in game where vil basically says "yeah leona is extremely physically attractive HOWEVER his personality sucks and i hate him." like okay. why do you have to keep telling us that leona has a "pretty face" or "only good for his looks" or whatever it is he says fjsdkljekl. that's nice vil.

pushing them back out of the way back to the second years

and trey. im still trapped in the anthologies since thats whats in front of me klfjlewjsdfjkls god the way this one takes place after jamils meltdown and hes like "omg trey senpai....... and jade 😒........" Get His Ass sdfdsfg god i dont have a screenshot rn but another top 10 moments of twst for me that made me cry laughing was when i was reading cater's union bday card and jamil asks him that interview question "which dorm would you pick if you werent in heartslabyul" and god the TIMING with cater saying octavinelle INSTANTLY making jamil SCOWL IN DISAPPROVAL at the SHEER MENTION OF THE FISH BITCH DORM is SO funny to me. EW. GROSS. DISGUSTING!!! i so badly want riddle and jamil to bond over their mutual fish hading sjdklfe theyre SO FUNNYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

and yet in masquerade event. jamil bullies azul. azul buillies him back. they DANCE TOGETHER IN BOTH OF THE RHYTHM GAMES. theyre DUO PARTNERS to azuls ssr. riddle and jamil compliment [more or less LOL] azul's singing performance at the end. i think once or twice riddle and jamil also share a few 😑😑 moments over azul... being azul jdkslfjkdsljf and it's EVERYTHING TO ME it was so validating bc i think those three should hang out forever.

OK THAT'S ENOUGH DISORGANIZED RAMBLES FOR NOW I GOTTA CONTAIN MYSELF!!!

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Bantha Blues

Since when can I make up this many titles I’m just SAYING this is rare. Im also making another batch of pumpkin cookies so hit me up if you want the recipe link

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader

Word count: this is just for fun now

Notes: Are we just going to all continuously call him Din when his name is Djarin. How do you get so much sass into one helmet.

⭐️Day 18: Mutual Masturbation⭐️

Landing on Nevarro was the best thing that had happened all week. Grogu was the cutest baby in all of the galaxy…. But he was also a little shit. He had been a menace all week and you hadn’t gotten one minute to yourself. Even when Din had offered to take the little tyrant for the night, mister had a cold was only comfortable in your arms.

Cara met you both out at the razor crest, picking up Grogu before he’d even had the chance to get off the ramp. She hugged him to her chest and smiled.

“How’s my little buddy doing?” She held him on her hip as she looked you over, smirking at your slightly disheveled look.

“You don’t mind? Mando, if someone has a little sleepover with me do you?”

You love him to death but you can’t shove her in the direction of her home fast enough, she laughs as she leaves, telling you both she’s expecting you for dinner.

“I have business at the High Magistrates office.” Din turns to you, tilting his head. “Will you be okay on your own?”

“Oh trust me I will be absolutely fine, perfect even.” You start to back up the ramp and back into the hull

“ I’ll comm you if I need you okay?”

He nods to you and leaves, shutting the door behind him. The lights turn on automatically and you spin around dramatically, flopping down onto the fluffy bedroll you’d been hoarding blankets for from various planets, it was time for a long and much needed nap. You shut off the lights and curled up under the covers.

You wake up a couple hours later, stretching out slowly. Everything seemed to be just as it was before you fell asleep. You snuggled deep into your covers, slowly running your fingers over your body… you’d had an interesting dream, a nice one. It involved a certain Beskar clad warrior, doing unspeakable things between your legs. Your imagination filled in the blanks and it was quite pleasant. But it left you feeling a certain type of way. You opened up the blankets letting the cool air hit your body, you’d stripped down to just an oversized tshirt for bed and whilst it wasn’t very practical it was about luxury right now not practicality. You lifted your hips and dramatically threw your panties aside. It was so rare you had a moment like this alone, most times it was just a quick moment in the fresher while Din was taking care of Grogu, but this? This was going to be good.

You pulled up your shirt and cupped your breasts, squeezing them and massaging them gently. Sighing softly you teased your nipples as the cool air made them hard. You slid your hand slowly down to your heated core, that dream giving you more than enough ammo to get off with. Your breath shuddered as you started to rub your clit, your back arching a bit.

You started to sink your fingers into you moaning Din’s name softly when the fresher door opened, Din walked out and froze in his tracks, his gloves in his hand. You screamed and covered your body, hiding under the covers

“When the fuck did you get back!” You shout from under the covers. He doesn’t say anything, and you peek your head out. He’s still frozen in his spot. You groan loudly and slam your head into the pillows.

“Nevarro to Din??? Do you copy?” You looked at him, taking in the warm tanned skin of his hands. It was the first real human part you’d seen of him. No gloves no Beskar….just brown skin. You were stuck staring as well. A couple minutes past, neither of you saying a thing.

“What were you doing” his voice comes out a bit strained, out of breath too. You roll your eyes, finally tearing away from those gorgeous hands. His fingers were so long and delicate, the veins on his hands running along them. You could feel your pussy jump at the thought of them inside you.

“I think you know what I was doing… I didn’t- I’m sorry I didn’t realize you had come back. Why didn’t you wake me?”

“Why would I… you’ve had your hands full I just. I wanted to make sure you slept. You deserve it.”

Your heart melted a bit for him. He finally moved, leaning against the wall of the hull closest to him. He looked the other direction .

“I heard you calling for me- I thought. Fuck I thought something was wrong I wouldn’t- I would have stayed in there until you’d fallen back asleep or something had I known…”

“You heard me?” Your cheeks feel flush as your eyes widen, you stare up at him from the blankets and he looks down at you. He walks over and crouches down to your height, his hand reaches out and tucks a curl behind your ear.

“Yeah… I heard you.” He pulls the blanket back, revealing your bare legs. You stare into the dark t-visor blinking slowly.

“You don’t have to stop.” He tells you “you deserve to relax.. have..have some time to yourself.”

You watch as the helmet tilts down to your legs, you squeeze them together slightly and scoot closer to him.

“Why were you out of breath?” You ask as you get on your knees, pushing him gently onto his butt. His hands go to your waist and he holds you there, staring. Or at least you think he is.

“I needed time to myself”

Your hand drops back down to your hot wet cunt, you slide your fingers between your slick lips and start to pump your fingers in and out in front of him, you sit back against the pillows and open your legs wide for him to see. He stares at you, unmoving for a minute his helmet tilted down to look between your legs, he slowly unzips his pants, pulling out his cock.

Your hand freezes as you stare, he’s big for makers sake that man is huge. He tilts his head again, almost teasing you as you feel your pussy jump, almost gushing at the site of him. You know that helmet can definitely pick up the extra wetness down there. He nods at your hand and you start going again, pumping your fingers in faster. He strokes his cock slowly listening to the wet sloppy noises of your fingers. You watch him stroking, you’re not even sure your hand would fit around it, actually you’re really sure it wouldn’t. You bite your lip harshly as he rubs his cock a bit faster, his tip leaking with precum he uses it to lube up his cock as he keeps going.

You moan softly, your fingers working with his hand both of you egging each other on. You scoot a bit closer to him and his head falls back for a moment, you hear a light breathy moan through his vocoder sending shivers down his spine.

“Oh fuck Din” you gasps as your eyes roll back in your head. You hear his hand going faster over his cock as you cum on your fingers. You lay your fingers flat against your clit and rub it back and forth, moaning and wriggling in the blankets as your hips buck up. Your body shivers as you come down, you look over to see Din on his knees, pumping his cock. You immediately open your legs again, panting and soaked.

“On me? Please?” You beg breathlessly and it’s all he needs, thick hot ropes of cum splatter over your thighs and pussy. You use his cum and rub it over your aching clit, groaning at the overstimulation. He plops back down on the floor, watching you get off again using the cum on your body.

“Fuck Y/N.” His voice is hoarse as he slowly pumps his cock, getting every last drop out. “Fuck that was hot.”

You lay in the blankets, naked and panting you aren’t really sure when your shirt came off. Din stands up on shakey legs and reaches his hand out to you.

“We need to get you cleaned up” he says as he helps you up and shuts off the lights to the hull, your legs are complete jello as he supports you into the fresher. He doesn’t turn on the lights as you both go in.

“T-together?” You ask, as you hear a distinct hiss from the doorway.

“Together” comes his rich velvety voice.

[hipsofsteel]

okay, so as stated in my original tags, I was making a fruit curd. now, ive made a lot of these before. mostly lemon and lime curds, the lemon curd i use in ice cream and the lime my mom likes to bake with.

ive also made a rhubarb curd and other curds that require more prep work, although not nearly as often as the standard standbys of lemon and lime.

however, my sister a year ago found a recipe using a cranberry and hawthorne berry curd. we didnt make it although we picked and froze the hawthorne berries, so this year, it was decided to make it. since im currently working a pretty physical labor based job, i had to make this curd today when im off so it can be baked with later this week.

SO we measure out stuff to start the curd making process. now, because we're using whole berries, i have to cook everything down and strain it to get the acidic liquid needed for a proper curd. okay, no big deal.

hawthorne berries have ridiculous seeds though, and there was an entire juiced orange and orange rind in there, so straining it was not fun. BUT, now i think, im onto familiar ground, although im a bit worried by how little juice there seems to be, but im working with dry fruits so...

NOW, here is where i should have abandoned the recipe and worked on instinct, but i, a fool who likes to follow recipes the first time, didn't do that

generally my lemon curd recipe incorporates the butter into the juice first, you heat it and temper the eggs, then continue heating. i check the recipe.

"Use the juice to temper the eggs". Okay, some recipes have you add butter later, that's fine-

"And melt the butter in with the fruit solids"

What?

i reread the instructions several times. and please note, my paraphrasing is way less vague than the recipe is. but its insistent, and since im worried about the liquid levels, i do as told. instantly im like "well im probably fucked"

little did i know that was pretty accurate

so the eggs are tempered with the juice, and the butters melted into the solids, and then the two are blended together. and now the instructions are "stir until thickened"

now, with a lemon curd that consists of juice, eggs, and butter, you FEEL when that curd thickens. however im currently playing with a potion that has orange pulp and over a hundred large hawthorne seeds. that shit is like stirring CEMENT. so i have to pull out a thermometer and temperature monitor it to make sure the eggs are cooked, and lord help me, if my temper was off there could be scrambled eggs in there

and then...

i have to shove it all through the strainer again.

this is the THICKEST curd ive ever worked with. its developing a skin and rapidly cooling, and im fighting for my life with our tiny sifter sieve to get the liquid through without grinding the large berry seeds that are actually more like tiny cherry pits. btw, it doesn't tell you to strain the curd a second time, but i prefer my teeth intact personally

i FINALLY get it though and stare at my curd. it almost seems powdery, like i added a bunch of flour in, and its already cooled off very quickly. i wanted to strain it a third time to make sure there was no scrambled egg i might have accidentally shoved through while removing the seeds, but id have to put it back on the stove and maybe fuck up the setting process to do that.

so i decide fuck that, throw the like 18 extra dishes i made dealing with this bonker recipe into the sink, stick the curd in the fridge, give myself a bowl of potato chips, and flee to my bedroom

only to realize that the spices in the recipe, that i was never instructed to add and i planned to stir in when the final curd was strained, never got added.

TL;DR in conclusion: the recipe writer is fucking insane and this fruit curd may be sentient and malevolent

love the process of making a new variation on something you've made several times before, only to realize that the creator of the recipe is fucking insane halfway through

[ellitx]

Wind der Freiheit | Venti x Reader

Making a Dandelion Wine flavored cake is a lot harder than you thought it would be.

note: yahoo~ past elli here and this is the first post for the twin bards’ bday event! this was written on june 13 and a scheduled post so it’s either im wide awake or fast asleep for their bday but here ya go!

artist: mizuamememe

word count: 2.6k

           Today is the day. You never thought the day is finally here and you’ve been always waiting to celebrate this with a certain bard. Taking one final look at your work, you take a step back to see the whole masterpiece you have baked to give as a gift for Venti.

            June 16. It is Venti the Bard’s birthday. The all three-time winner of the most popular bard of Mondstadt. The bard who always goes to the tavern, Angel’s Share, to get wasted from drinking the city’s most beloved and well-known Dandelion Wine. Heaving a sigh, you looked down at the cake that was designed with vanilla and mint icing and a message that read as “Happy Birthday!”

            This was your very own special and original recipe of a Dandelion Wine cake, or as what you’d rather call it, Wind der Freiheit. To think of making a wine a flavor for a cake recipe was something you haven’t done yet so this was a big challenge. And yet you fear to know what this cake would taste like. 

            These past few days, you’ve been baking day and night to make the perfect Dandelion Wine flavored cake for Venti. The first three batches were fine with you but as you continued to bake and bake again, you eventually got a little bit tipsy when taste-testing your cakes. With your poor alcohol intolerance, it was hard for you to continue baking and that’s when you decided to call over some acquaintances who can do the taste testing for you. 

            Kaeya, the Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius, was your first choice and he was happy and honored you picked him first to judge your product. He only got to taste it once, saying your cake was a bit too sweet, but he has to cut off his time with you to continue working as the Cavalry Captain. You appreciate that he helped you with this but you never asked him again since he’s got more important things to do than taste testing.

            Your next choice was Charles the Bartender. While he works in the tavern, you give him your baked goods as a snack then ask for his opinion.

            “It’s a bit bitter and the taste of the Dandelion Wine is so strong in here, but if you’re going to give this to someone I suggest lighting up the flavor a bit to also capture the sweetness of your cake.”

            And so you followed his suggestion. Maybe just a cup of the wine should suffice and three cups of powdered sugar for the frosting. Giving the slice of cake to him, a drunkard suddenly came barging into the counter and eyeing the dessert.

            “Oh? What’s this? You got a new product with you, Charlie?”

            “Nimrod, go back home before your wife sees you staying here again.”

            “Oh shush. Hey girlie, mind if I take a bite?” 

            Blinking at this familiar stranger, you shook your head and gave the plate and fork to him. As he put the dessert in his mouth, Nimrod spat out the food and bangs his fist on the counter, begging for some water.

            “What in the world did you put here?! It’s too salty!!”

            Salty? You were sure you only put half a teaspoon of salt in it. With furrowed brows, you took a small bite of your own dessert. The volatile and bitter flavor running through your taste buds made you want to rush out and get some water to drink away the bitterness and saltiness ruining your tongue. 

            “B-but how… I’m sure I’ve put half a teaspoon of salt in here… And the powdered sugar should—“

            That’s when you realized you might have mixed up the baking soda and the powdered sugar’s measurements. You felt like your world was dooming when Nimrod stomped out of the tavern and complained about the tavern’s menu, garnering everyone’s attention. They were all murmuring and whispering at the commotion then looking back between you and Charles.

            Feeling guilty that you might be ruining their reputation, which it kind of did, you looked for a different person you can ask for help but not before ordering their entire stock of Dandelion Wine to make sure you don’t run out as you experiment some more.

            And your third choice was,

            “Aether, are you sure you don’t mind judging this for me?” You looked at him with firm eyes, fists resting over your hips as you questioned him. 

            “W-well, I am 500 years old…” His tone just made it hard for you to trust this outlander. It was like a kid pretending to say he’s legal to drink. Sighing for an umpteenth time this day, you stared at his little companion floating next to him to make sure what Aether was saying was true. She only shrugged her shoulders and glanced at your cake.

            “I mean I know I look young but I’m a lot older than I look.” Seeing your hesitancy in handing him over the cake, he sighed in defeat and rubbed the back of his head. “If you still won’t allow me then I know a perfect person who’ll judge it.”

            “No, it’s fine. Time is running out and I need someone to taste this for me if I still need room for improvement.” Passing over to him the fork, Paimon’s eyes sparkled and looked at you with pleading eyes.

            “Ooh! Can Paimon take a bite as well?!” 

            You glanced over to Aether and tilt your head. “Can she?” And just like what Paimon did, he shrugged his shoulders before letting the soft dessert enter through his mouth. The flavors were familiar and comforting as if the breeze of the wind just rushed past through him after taking a bite. He could eat the entire cake as if they were the most divine food ever conjured. 

            The sweetness and refreshing taste of the wine mixed with the cake’s sugary flavor that coursed through his tongue was a match made in heaven. Aether hummed in delight and looked at you with bright eyes. 

            “Woah, this is perfect! The flavors had a brightness as if in each bite were tiny brilliant hot air balloons, ready to escape into a blue sky. The aroma of cereal is like the wind in the sails. If it were like that then the essences were the full body of the boat!”

            Your smile went big and wide, excited to discover you’ve finally succeeded in creating the perfect dessert. “R-really?! You’re not just sugarcoating your words, right?!” 

            “Of course not! This really tastes good and if I were honest with you, I actually want to eat more of it.” A sheepish laugh came from him and you giggled at his honesty, flattered and delighted to know he enjoyed what you had baked.

            “I think this settles it! I should go to Starsnatch Cliff now—“

            A loud belching resonated around the kitchen causing you and Aether to stop chatting. Following where the source of sound is leading, you blinked several times and let out a petty sound of huh when you see an empty plate in front of the table.

            “Oh wow, that was… that was really delicious! Paimon wants more of this cake! Hey Aether, maybe we should try asking [Name] for the recipe so we can also try this out on our travels!” 

            Several crumbs of mint-colored pastry were sticking out on the corner of her lips. She licked them off and laid on top of the table, her stomach heavy and full from eating the sweet treat. Another loud and long burping slipped from her mouth as she rolled her body to the side and spread out her short arms and legs, all sprawled out and without a care if the two humans were looking at her with wide eyes.

            You felt your world was shattering into pieces as if all your hopes and dreams were gone right before your eyes. All the effort of baking that perfect cake has disappeared in just a second. Aether glared at his companion and scolded her. “Paimon, that was supposed to be Venti’s! We’re only here to taste test a small portion of her cake, not eat the entire cake!”

            “What…? Paimon thought [Name]’s going to bake another one?”

            “If it tastes different! That was already the ideal cake she was going to give to Venti!” Aether pinched the bridge of his nose then looked at you apologetically. 

            “[Name], I’m really sorry about this emergency food here. W-we can still help you in making another one!”

            Pulling yourself together, you nodded and ran to the cabinet to take out the necessary ingredients. 

            “Oh no…”

            The two companions looked at each other then back to your figure who was motionless and still in front of the cupboard. “Um, Paimon doesn’t like that tone…”

            Catching the panic look on your visage, he prepared for the worst when you sniffled and took out a box. 

            “I’m out of cake flour.”

            “We can still buy more at Blanche’s shop!” Aether reassured and just as you were about to list down the other ingredients you needed, a heavy sound of a door banging open made you jolt in surprise.

            “[Name]!” The yell was a cry, a voice you recognize very well and it just further made you distressed that he came at the wrong time. Venti was standing there with a big smile on his face and a basket in his hand. Then the bright grin faltered when he saw Aether and Paimon were also with you.

            “Oh?”

            “Uh…” 

            A small sob slipped from your lips and you tried so hard to hold back the tears to fall out from your eyes. “Venti…” You wept and mopped the small tears with the back of your hand. The bard was quick to rush to where you were standing and pulled you in a hug. He’d never seen you so hurt and upset, and though he doesn’t know the reason as to why the first thing that came to his mind was the pixie and the traveler.

            A look of great bitterness swept across his face as small enmity boiled inside him. His hold on you was protective and firm, holding you close against his body but just before he could question the two what they did to you, you grasped on his wrist to catch his attention— which was a success.

            “Sorry, I just panicked when I saw you enter.” 

            Venti’s eyes softened and cupped your cheek. His thumb running across your face to dry out your wet stained face. “What’s wrong? Were you preparing for another surprise for me?” 

            The forlorn gaze and nod of your head hurt his heart. Despite being told to meet at Starsnatch Cliff, he decided to go there with you instead of waiting alone. A melancholic presence painted across his face but it shifted to a brighter one to lighten up the mood.

            “Hey, it’s alright. I still don’t know what surprise you have in store for me.” He softly pecked your temple and laced your fingers together and though he already attempted to make you smile, the gloomy aura you have bothered him.

            “That’s the problem… The cake is... it’s gone.” You fiddled your fingers and shied away when Venti remained silent. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Paimon and Aether sneaking out of the room to give you and Venti some alone-time together. Perhaps it’s the best yet he still needs to inquire with them if something happened when he was away.

            “Cheer up, love. We can bake together to make another one. But I must say, I also have a small problem with me, ehe…” He scratched his cheek out of nervousness and that strained chuckle made you look at him in concern. 

            Clearing his throat, he raised the basket for you to take a peek inside. “I was planning to take a bottle of wine with me for our picnic date but when I went to the tavern they said they ran out of Dandelion Wine. The bartender even told me someone took the entire stock! Now, who in the world would be so selfish to take all the goods with them?!” 

            The small huff from him caused you to giggle, surprising him. Seems like Venti still doesn’t know who was the culprit for taking his favorite drink. You encircled your arms around his waist and glimpsed at him under your long lashes. Your lover was completely magnetized by your eyes. His hand rested on your back to support you and have you lean against him.

            “Well about that, would you believe me if I said I was the one who bought it?” His eyes widened and he leaned forward to take a whiff of your scent. The familiar sweet and grain-like aroma wafted through his nose and he stared at you with a gaped mouth.

            “I’ve been making a Dandelion Wine flavored cake for your birthday. Of course, there would be several failures here and there and experimenting which combination will fit for the flavors that’s why I took all of it.” Your explanation had him laughing at your story and it’s not that because it’s silly. It just really sounds like you, always doing your best to achieve your goal and to create the perfect masterpiece.

            “You should also buy the entire industry,” Venti joked and pulled you to the counter. He put down the basket on the floor and stood behind you, hugging your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.

            “No thanks. You’ll drink everything there and Mondstadt’s economics will be in grave danger.” With a grin he pressed a quick kiss to your lips, pulling away before you had time to react. “Aww, but I would never.” You raised your eyebrows at him in disbelief and slight amusement.

            “Okay, maybe a little.” His lips met yours again, more passionate this time. “But even if I do drink them, I’d rather drink something else.” Another kiss. Venti turned you around to face him, chuckling at your surprised appearance. “And if I snuck in to take a bottle or two, I wonder what will you do if you catch me.”

            He had you pressed against the counter, cornering you between him and the worktable. His lips ghosted over yours as he pressed his knee between your legs, voice lowing to a whisper, “Does this feel familiar?”

            “You know I usually wouldn’t be opposed to this,” you started, gasping as his lips found their way to your neck, his leg pressing harder at the area between yours. “But don’t we still have something to do? You said you'd bake with me…”

            His teeth gently bit down on the exposed skin of your collarbone, causing your breathing to hitch. There was no doubt it was going to leave a mark, but that was exactly what he wanted. Venti ran his hands down your body, allowing one to trail underneath your shirt. “Change of plans. It’s not like your kitchen or our date place will run away. Or… do you want me to stop? Because I will if that’s what you really want.”

            He began to pull away, a teasing smirk on his lips, but you just tugged him closer. Your mind was in a haze, eyes half-lidded as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

             “No, don’t.”

            “Alright, anything for my princess,” he purred, kissing you once more. This time it was rougher, almost needy, as your hands found their way to his hair, tangling in his short onyx locks. You playfully gave his hair a gentle tug, eliciting a quiet moan from his lips. In response, his free hand traced downwards, teasingly rubbing at your inner thigh.

            Date and baking can hold, while this one— your lover just wants to spend quality time with you. Ignoring the fact that the two companions were still inside your home.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Of something beautiful, but annihilating🚬3

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, violence and abuse, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of death'; violence, attempted rape.

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader’s husband brings home an unexpected houseguest.

Note: So this is for black Friday and then I’ll be working all today and tomorrow and schedule’s are super late so I dunno when Im working after that. Hope you guys enjoy and don’t hesitate to drop by my asks.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Arvin let you pick the record. You found it among the box of your daddy’s music. It was one of your favourites and you were glad he wasn’t bothered by Patsy Cline’s droll tones. He seemed to enjoy it as he sat and read a magazine and you searched for a button from your large tin to match that missing from Roy’s jacket.

“You ever listen to Elvis?” He looked up from behind the pages.

“I… I heard him on the radio but you know we haven’t got new records since Daddy died,” you said as you continued your hunt. “And Roy don’t like all that new music. He says it’s no good.”

“Well, he doesn’t seem to like much, does he?” Arvin sniffed, “I always knew he was a grouch but I just thought it was the job.”

“He’s not… He’s just stressed. He works so much.” You looked down and settled on a button that was close enough. 

“You do too,” Arvin hid behind the magazine again. “You should be the one goin’ out and doin’ what you like on a Saturday. Hell, if he ain’t gonna spend his time with you, you should do something of your own.”

“I like sewing,” you shrugged as you threaded the button, “You know, it’s not so bad. I get time to myself. A lot of people can’t say that.”

“Sounds pretty lonely to me,” he flicked the page.

You were silent. You didn’t know how to respond. He was skirting around what he really wanted to say, what you didn’t want him to talk about. The tension in the air thickened as you feared he would admit that he knew or you might confess that your husband wasn’t much of one. Hell, you’d yet to accept that yourself.

Your fears were assuaged by the sudden clatter on the porch and the hinges of the door as it was swung open. You sat up and set aside Roy’s jacket. You stood as he staggered inside. He always did like to drink when he fished, or did much of anything else. You frowned as he tracked mud in on his tall rubber boots.

“Roy, you’re making a mess,” you said as you went to the doorway and watched him stumble around the entryway.

“Keep ya busy,” he slapped a hand on the wall and wiggled his leg free of a boot. “There’s a whole pail of fish out front too.”

“Mmm,” you hummed as his cheeks glowed. You doubted he’d be awake that long. “Well, I’ll just fry those up while you sit down.”

“Agh,” he tripped over his other boot as he slipped it off and Arvin brushed by you to catch him.

“Hey, Roy,” he took his arm, “How was the fishing? Why don’t you sit down? We’ll have a beer.”

“I almost forgot about you, boy,” he shook free of Arvin and ambled closer to you, “Maybe you can hide away after dinner for a while?”

He dragged his hand up your thigh and slapped your ass as he passed you. Arvin turned as Roy clumsily traipsed into the living room and fell onto the couch. He looked at you but you couldn’t stand to meet his.

“Sure,” Arvin uttered, “I’ll just go get those fish first.”

He disappeared through the front door and you crossed your arms as you turned to watch your husband. His head lolled as he chuckled.

“You think he ever fucked a girl?” He asked, “Boy tiptoes around like a virgin.”

“That’s crass, Roy,” you reproached.

“Don’t act so innocent,” he snapped, “If you didn’t, maybe I’d… well.”

His words trailed off and he closed his eyes. He yawned and sighed loudly. You grimaced and listened to the door as it hit the frame again. Arvin continued onto the kitchen as Roy began to snore. It must have been a record how quickly he’d passed out this time.

You went through to the kitchen as Arvin drained the water from the pail of fish. You went to the drawer and got a knife. You rest it on its end as you gripped it and looked out the window.

“He’s already out for the night,” you said, “You hungry?”

“I said I’d make the fish, I meant it.”

“Nah, I’ll flay them and put ‘em in the fridge,” you swallowed, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“That you’re stuck here with us. Sorry he’s always drunk.” You looked down at the blade. You didn’t say what you really wanted to. Sorry you were stupid enough to choose Roy.

“That isn’t your fault and you know, I don’t mind it so much.” He neared, “We’re friends now, aren’t we? That’s worth it.”

You nodded but couldn’t smile. He always tried to make things seem nicer than they were. He was much better at it than you were.

“You comin’ to church tomorrow?”

“Of course,” he answered like it was obvious.

You turned away and laid out the fish across the cutting board. He stayed behind you, the record silenced and began to skip.

“I think I got somethin’ nice I can find.” He left you and the crackle of the Victrola died.

You slice the fish, careful not to cut your fingers as you deboned it and tossed away the heads and tails. You heard Arvin speak in a low voice and a grumble. Then heavy footsteps interspersed with lighter ones. The stairs groaned and you kept on, wrapping the filets in paper and tucking it away.

You cleaned up and washed the smell off your hands. The living room was empty so you climbed the stairs and found Roy face down on your bed. You turned to the open attic and Arvin descended the ladder.

“You got him to bed?” You tilted your head.

“Wasn’t so hard. Poked him a few times.” He grinned. “So what time do I needa be ready for church?”

“We leave about twenty minutes before service. It’s at eight.” You answered, “Oh, you know what--” You raised your index finger, “One sec.”

You spun and scurried into your father’s room. It was just as it had been before he died except now there were boxes stacked along one wall. You pushed open the closet and fluttered through the clothes hanging within. You pulled out the old grey suit and white shirt that had yet to yellow. You grabbed a tie from the drawer as you passed the dresser.

You smelled them as you went back to the door as Arvin peeked in.

“For church,” you held them out, “My daddy was a bit taller but he got skinny near the end. I can pin up the pants for you and you’ll look just fine.”

“Oh,” he face paled, “You-- I can’t--”

“Roy’ll never fit into these so please,” you pushed them against his chest. “And I don’t think he’ll be up in time for church so I need you to drive.”

He smiled and took the clothes. He hugged them as if they were precious. “Thank you. I’m gonna sound like you for a moment but you really didn’t have to.”

“You think I’m gonna forget that you promised to make the fish? It’ll be a nice Sunday night dinner.” You inhaled deeply, “I think that for tonight, I’m gonna lay down though.”

“Alright,” he let you past, “You have a good night.”

“You too,” you neared your bedroom door as Roy’s snores grew louder, “Might have to stuff my ears with cotton.”

🚬

As you expected, Roy was too hungover to get up for church. You didn’t really go for the sermons but your daddy made it a habit when you were young to make sure you got to see the other kids in town. Sunday school had socialised you in the circles of the small town but they had proven less than welcoming. And since you’d grown out of your education, you went to trade recipes with some of the other wives.

Arvin was awake before you. As you pulled a cardigan over your blue dress you stopped at the bottom of the stairs and he appeared from the front room.

“Oh, Arvin,” you smiled, “That suit looks real nice on you. And the pants…”

“I sewed them myself last night,” he lifted his foot, “Remembered a few stitches.” He straightened the jacket, “You look real good too.”

“Well, aren’t we a pair?” You chimed. “Gonna have to be since Roy hasn’t moved since you dragged him to bed.”

“After you,” he waved to the door, “Think we should get goin’. My daddy woulda whipped me being late for the lord’s prayer.

You led him out the door and climbed into the truck opposite him. He turned the ignition and the engine rumbled to life. You felt calm as you smelled the early morning dew and you looked out the window as he shifted into gear. The lush green grass passed you by and trees swayed as he steered along the old country road.

As always, the church was crowded. You and Arvin squeezed in at the back. He was quiet and sombre as you entered. As you sat, you looked over at him. His jaw squared as the preacher came out and began his weekly scourge. A fire burned behind Arvin’s brown irises and he scowled for a moment before his face went placid.

You looked forward and folded your hands as you listened to Father Milton. You never cared much for his talk of hellfire and brimstone, to be fair, your daddy didn’t either, but in a small town, everyone knew when one was away from service. Roy never cared what anyone thought but you had to deal with Noreen and the other ladies at the grocer or around town about their own tasks.

When mass finished, you stood but Arvin hesitated. He stared up at the altar before he finally rose. He nodded to you and followed you and the other worshippers out into the sun.

You heard your name as you headed for the truck. You stopped and Arvin did too. You turned as Noreen, a woman older than yourself who fashioned herself to be the model for all society ladies, approached you. She wore a wide-brimmed hat over her blonde hair and took short steps in her heels.

“You promised me that carrot cake recipe. The one with the raisins.” She said. “Now I’ve been hounding you for three weeks.”

“Oh, uh,” you unclasped your pocketbook and fished out the card you’d made sure to stow after last Sunday. “Right here. I’m sorry, Noreen, but I gotta get back.”

“Where is Roy? Was he off drinkin’ again? You know, the lord did warn us all against excess.”

“Well, perhaps we can get him to come next week and you can warn him,” Arvin intoned and Noreen looked over in shock.

“Excuse me. And who is this… man you have as your escort?”

“Roy is letting the attic out to him. They work together. This is Arvin.”

“Arvin Russell,” he introduced firmly. 

“That’s an unusual name,” Noreen remarked, “You’re not from here?”

“No, but from a place like this.” He countered, “I’m gonna go get the truck goin’.”

He turned without courtesy and marched away. You looked back to Noreen as she curled her lip.

“Oh, he is a rough one, isn’t he? You have that scoundrel livin’ with you?”

“He’s a good man. Helps around the house. It’s a big place and Missy Grable has a tenant of her own.”

“Missy Grable has a farmhand to tend the fields,” Noreen lifted her chin.

You weren’t certain what to say. Noreen always found issue with whatever you said and you hated to give her further reason to.

“Well, here’s the recipe. I really ought to go.” You said.

“I understand, honey,” She smirked, “Your husband needs his caretaker… oh sorry, wife.”

You flinched but said nothing else. Your shoulders dropped as you turned away and dragged your heels through the dirt. You opened the truck and climbed in without a word. You clutched your pocketbook and stared ahead as Arvin back out of the lot.

“Pardon my saying so and I don’t use this word often, but she was a bitch,” Arvin said. “Remind me why I ain’t go to church.”

You looked down and nervously unclasped and unclasped your purse. “You didn’t have to come.”

“No, it’s your house and I wanna be a good guest,” he said, “It’s nothing to do with you.”

You scoffed and shook your head. “My daddy hated goin’ too but he didn’t want me to be ostracised, you know? He told me, near the end, that he stopped believin’ durin’ the war. He said no god would let the things happen that he saw.” You leaned against the door and watched the buildings pass. “Seein’ how these Christians act, I can’t blame him.”

Arvin was quiet as you left the main street and the house began to thin out until the country sprawled out around you.

“My sister…” he said so low you barely heard him. He cleared his throat and spoke louder. “My cousin, she was tricked by a preacher man. She was young and too willing to love. And he was just a liar. He knocked her up then refused her.” His voice was brittle and you glanced over as his hand tightened on the steering wheel. “She hung herself but it was that snake-tongued charlatan who killed her.” He shook his head. “No god would take her like that. No god would let a man sworn to him trick the innocent.” He rubbed his forehead as his eyes bore into the distance, “I’m sorry. Just been a while since I sat in a pew.”

“No, I’m… sorry. Sorry about your cousin.” You said, “I didn’t-- You can stay home next week.”

He pondered it and a little smile curled his lips. “Don’t think I will. Think I’d like to see that Noreen again. Maybe say a prayer for her soul, wherever it may be.”

🚬

Roy was still in bed when you got home. You tried to rouse him and he swatted you away. You brought him a sandwich and some water and left it beside him. You went back down to clean up as Arvin sat in the front room, As you wiped your hands, the record player buzzed and a tune rose on noontime air.

You went to the living room as Arvin stood straight and you listened to the smooth tones of Sinatra. He turned to you as you entered. 

“I like this one,” you said. 

“Me too,” He had shed the jacket and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, his tie disposed of. He turned his palm up as he stepped away from the player. “You dance?”

You giggled and shook your head. “No, not much of a dancer. Roy wouldn’t even at the wedding.”

“Come on. It’s a good song.” He got closer and began to sing out of tune, “I get no kick from champagne. Mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all…”

You shied away and he caught your hand. You let him draw you closer and smiled as your cheeks warmed up.

“Just follow my lead,” he urged as he moved his feet, “Don’t look down, just one, two, one, two…” 

You moved your feet around his as he swayed you and turned you on the spot. His hand settled on your lower back and you grasped his shoulders. You were jittery as you moved with him in time to the music.

“Arvin…” You breathed. 

“Every pretty girl should dance,” he said, “I’d say you’re a hell of a dancer for a beginner.”

“Thanks,” you trilled and settled into his embrace.

“I mean it. You deserve more.” He leaned closer and you felt his hot breath on you. “You deserve the world.”

You smiled as he gazed across at you. Your heart leapt as there was a sudden clamour by the stairs and you pushed away from Arvin as Roy stomped into the doorframe. His hand fell away from your back and you tiptoed over to your husband.

“Roy, you’re awake? How ya feelin’?”

“All this goddamn noise you makin’ down here,” he grumbled, “Shut off that dang thing. There’s a game on.”

You flitted away and turned off the Victrola. You looked at Arvin as he watched Roy. He looked irritated and repulsed by the man.

“I gotta do some chores,” you muttered. “You boys enjoy the game.”

“I think I’m just gonna go upstairs,” Arvin tucked his hands in his pockets. “I’ll be down to cook that fish in a bit.”

You watched the younger man leave and Roy turned the dial on the radio. Your husband flopped onto the couch as the commentator’s voice filled the room.

“How about a beer?” He demanded, not asked.

🚬

The day turned to night. Dinner was quiet and tense. Roy didn’t drink as much as the day before but the alcohol made little difference. Arvin was pensive and seemed to lose himself in thought. You were nervous as you thought of the dance and your temperamental husband.

You hadn’t done anything wrong. It was just a dance. How come Roy could spend his days drunk and dozing and you couldn’t do anything you liked?

You cleaned up after supper. Arvin retreated to his room once more as Roy sat in the living room with another bottle and you tidied up. You cleared the last of the mess and looked out into the front room. Roy belched and sneered as he saw you.

“Wife,” he beckoned you forward with two fingers, “What did you do today?”

“Went to church. Cleaned.” You edged closer. “That’s all. I was real worried about you, Roy.”

“Were you?” He snorted and stood as he dropped his bottle on the table. “You didn’t seem too bothered when I came down.”

“What do you mean?” You stopped a foot away from him.

“You and that kid. You get on real well, don’t ya?” He snickered. “You down here dancing.”

“Just a dance, Roy,” you said meekly, “I didn’t wanna be rude.”

“You just wanna be a whore,” he snarled, “Huh? What you doin’ with that boy? I’m your husband.”

“I know, I know that, Roy. I never-- I didn’t do nothing.” You pleaded as he stepped closer. “I was just waitin’ for you to wake up.”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” he hissed as he grabbed the back of your head and thrust you close to him. “You been doin’ everything but what a wife is meant for.”

He tore open the front of your dress and you cried out. “I’m gonna fuck you and let that boy hear who you belong to.”

“Stop, please.”

“Stop!? This is what you promised me, dear wife.”

You struggled with him as the smell of alcohol on his breath made you cringe. He spun you and shoved you so hard you stumbled back against the couch. You got up as he ambled after you and were knocked back by his fist. You cradled your cheek as you fell onto the cushions.

He pushed you up against the back of the couch and tried to wrench your legs apart. You squeezed your knees together and slapped at him blindly as fear bubbled in your veins. He forced your legs open and knelt on the couch between them. He grabbed your throat as you tried to wriggle away and he struck you again. He never hit your face; he didn’t like people to see what he did to you.

“I’ll show you,” he muttered, “I’ll show you, you little whore.”

He reached for his fly but his face mirrored your shock as he suddenly stilled and for a moment, he froze in time before he fell back onto the floor. Arvin stepped aside to avoid the crash and turned to hit him across the face. Roy’s brow split and began to stream with blood.

Arvin struck him a third time and pointed the gun at his head as he laid prone on the floor. Roy touched the back of his skull as he stared up barrel. The whack from the butt of the gun would likely leave a worse lump than his punches.

“Get up and go.” Arvin growled. “Or I’m gonna smear this carpet with your brains.”

“Are you crazy? This is my house!” Roy barked and pushed himself up. The pistol clicked and Arvin pressed it to his head. 

“It’s her daddy’s house.”

“She’s my wife, boy.”

“You don’t act like no husband,” Arvin said gruffly, “You think I’m scared? Think I haven’t shot a man before?”

“Sure you have, boy.”

“It’s different. You go out and you hunt your bucks and they don’t know what’s comin’, they don’t even know when they shot. But a man, oh he knows to the end. He begs, even if he can’t speak, he does. It’s in his eyes, in the way he gurgles as the life drains from his lips.” Arvin kicked Roy, “And once I pull this trigger, you’ll be begging too but it’ll be too late and there ain’t no words you can say to stop the blood. So you shut up and you go before you can’t.”

You were paralysed on the couch. Your head throbbed as you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. You trembled as Roy stood slowly and winced as Arvin followed his movement with the muzzle of the gun. Arvin followed your husband to the door and you heard the sharp whine of the other before it clattered shut. 

Crickets chirped as dirt stirred beneath feet and you heard the old truck shudder to life. The door snapped shut and locked loudly. Arvin appeared and lowered the gun. You stared at it as he came close. He set it on the table and sat beside you as he touched your face and you winced.

“Are you okay?” He asked as he pulled you against him, “I’m sorry he hurt you. I shoulda-- shoulda been faster.”

“Arv…” Your voice turned to a wisp and you let him hold you.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I got you now.”

[softinkshadows]

valentine dates with adultrio (x female reader)

Disclaimer: It’s February! This means it’s time for some lists of valentine’s day scenarios with our problem trio :p Takes place in a semi-AU where I’d imagine they would have some semblance of normalcy (if they could ever) in their lives hehe. Smutty descriptions included.

HISOKA

- you bet he will do something over the top - we know that man loves to put on a good show. he will schedule a dinner with you on valentine’s at your favourite restaurant, and when you get ready and arrive, he will probably break up with you over the phone as a joke. by the time you get back to your apartment, on the brink of a breakdown, you’ll open the door to him sitting on the couch with an exquisite candlelight dinner prepared.

- “did you think i’d let you go so easily?”

- he will be dressed up, sporting a loosened tie and maybe a jacket, with his hair combed back and smirking at you while you take in everything with your mascara running down your tear-stained face

- you’ll be so damn furious and probably take out the rage on him through sex that night and he’ll love you even more for that 

- “how much do you hate me right now?” he’ll whisper in your ear, teasing you while fingering you at a torturous pace 

- when you both shower together after, it is strangely not sexual, a rarity for hisoka. amidst the rising steam from all the hot water, both your bodies clean and wet, he doesn’t say anything, but he’ll hold your face in his palms for a moment, as if to show how much you mean to him 

- in another scenario, he will turn up at your front door on valentine’s dressed to impress - suit, tie, his hair let down in the most sensual way possible, holding a dramatically huge bouquet of roses

- he’s usually busy, and you don’t get to see him much, so this is a treat. “roses? didn’t take you to be a romantic sort,” you’d say

- after he crosses the threshold and enters your home, he’ll sigh. “you’re right. it’s valentine’s, so i thought i had to get them. troublesome things.” then he’ll casually discard them on your table, loosen his tie and prepare himself for what he really came for

- “let’s skip dinner and get started shall we?”

ILLUMI

- he’s an affection-starved bb and won’t really know how to say i love you, let alone do valentine’s day

- so he’ll be studiously researching on the internet a few days earlier on things to do and how to go about preparing for them

- you want him to take it easy, and suggest meeting him at his apartment first. but when you get there, you see him in a white dress shirt and simple apron, sleeves rolled up and long black hair tied back, going back and forth between recipe instructions on a computer and the mixing bowl on the kitchen counter, looking determined but confused as he goes about making some valentine’s day chocolates from scratch

- it’s a mess and the chocolate is half-ruined, his fingers are covered in them, and some have gotten on his shirt as well

- “isn’t it... supposed to be something like this?”

- you can’t help but double over in laughter, your heart warm from the sight. after cleaning it up together, he places the little strange blobs of chocolate gingerly in the fridge before you go for dinner

- dinner is at a cafe nearby, and he’s his usual quiet self, only occasionally recounting his recent assassination jobs, something which you have gotten used to

- afterwards, you both walk home together. something about the soft warm glow of streetlights and music coming from all the cafes lining the street makes him stop. you follow suit, turning to him.

- “y/n...” his voice will trail off quietly. then he will put his hand on your head and give it a soft pat - a precious moment

- back home, he will try one of his handmade chocolates but it will undoubtedly taste funny. you see his back stiffen but you demand to try one. you both get into a physical tussle (you forcing your way to the chocolate, and him barring you from them), but you’ll kiss him fiercely to taste it. you’ll see him blush deeply

- in the afterglow of sex, he will play with your hair and cuddle you to sleep

CHROLLO

- he has great taste and has exceptional class, so you can expect him to pull out all the stops. a swanky restaurant for sure, the kind which needs to be booked months in advance with a dress code

- he will pick you up from your apartment right on time. when you step out to the street he will be leaning against his porsche, dressed in an expensive 3-piece suit, holding an elegant bouquet of flowers

- “you look so beautiful”

-  when you greet him, he will look at you with a mix of pride, lust, happiness with his piercing grey eyes, his hands instinctively moving to your lower back, as if to stake his claim over you

- so far he seems very by the book, but over the course of the night, his sweet demeanour gives way to his more possessive and dominant self beneath his calm and gentlemanly facade 

- in the three star michelin restaurant, his hands will be on your legs beneath the table, hiking your dress up and slowly stroking your knees, your upper thigh. he will continue to make conversation like everything is normal, his smile drawn into a slight smirk, eyes twinkling, watching you struggle to eat and hold a proper discussion, your face turning redder as his hands travel further upward

- afterwards, you’ll be walking down the carpeted, exquisite hallway outside the restaurant. if there’s no one, he’ll suddenly push you against the wall, leaning on one of his forearms, spreading your legs gently with his own, raising your right knee to rest on his thigh, while his other errant hand slides up into your dress. by then you would be slightly wet from his consistent advances over dinner, and he confirms this by slipping two fingers beneath your underwear and into you

- “s-someone m-might see us,” you will sputter, gasping from the pleasure. “so what? lucky them,” he will chuckle

- his audacity makes you blush, and when you’re about to give in to this ridiculous situation, he pulls his fingers from you, cleaning them with his tongue

- he will whisk you back to his apartment straight after, and the door will only just click before he is on you in an instant, his lust overpowering and wild with an unfettered hunger. you will feel the hot, hard bulge of his pants rub against you while he slips his tongue into your mouth almost desperately, and you realize how much he held himself back throughout the night

- sex with him is feverish; he will take you anywhere, in any position. when he pounds rapidly into you, as you are about to reach your release, he will grip you gently by the hair and growl in your ear - “does hisoka make you feel this good?” and it’s enough to send you over the edge

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

Notes: That’s all for this February special for now! I really wanted to include some illumi x hisoka x reader or adultrio x reader scenarios because valentine’s day celebrations aren’t restricted to two ;P but i didn’t have enough time - maybe a next part? I will be quite busy over the next week, and wouldn’t get a chance to write much so wanted to do this tonight :) Thank you to everyone who has read my previous writing and left likes and words of encouragement; i’m so thankful!!! I appreciate y’all and im so happy that you enjoyed them~

[sunnysidevans]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 | 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 - 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Summary: Everyone goes through stages in life, meeting new people, falling in love, getting married , having children. Some people think it won’t happen to them but maybe fate hadn’t lead you in the right direction. 

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST , TW: slight sexual harassment , fighting , language , 18+ reccomended 

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

PREVIOUS STAGE | THE STAGES MASTERLIST

READERS POINT OF VIEW

THREE MONTHS AFTER FIRST DATE

The sound of your alarm woke you up on the cold Monday morning. You groaned as you rolled over and hit the off button on the top, with a sigh you sat up, rubbing your eyes with a yawn, as you were waking up you grabbed your phone from the charger on the bedside table, with a smile you opened the text from Chris “CHRIS: Good morning beautiful! I hope you have a great day today, call me maybe at lunch time?” you smiled as you read the text and sent him a quick reply which was soon interrupted by Zeus, ready for his morning run around the yard. After having a cup of coffee and making your way out of the shower and many clothes tossed to the side, you were finally ready to leave for the day. Making your way out the house you made sure to give Zeus a kiss to the head and a scratch behind the ears and making sure all toys were out from under any furniture, “okay buddy, I love you. Maybe you can have your buddy over later, maybeeee” you said with a smile as you shut the door behind you and make your way to your vehicle to start the dreaded Monday morning.

Driving into work you danced in your seat to the song playing on the radio, humming along softly you pulled into the parking garage attached to the office, being met with Casey. “You made it today” he smirked as he watched you get out of the vehicle, you turned to face him after fixing your skirt, tilting your head you sighed “what does that mean?” you asked as you grabbed your bags from the back seat as you watched him walk past you “well I mean, I figured you spent your weekend with your new boyfriend you can't stop raving about '' he said as the door closed behind him. You made your way into the office, with a sigh you set your things down at your desk and sat down, you couldn’t imagine why Casey made that comment? You shook your head, pushing the thoughts aside and got to work, grabbing all the papers you needed to start the day and get everything done for the long Monday. “(Y/L/N)!” Casey yelled from his office, you got up quickly making your way into the office, standing in front of him “yes?” you asked, adjusting the jacket you had on “well, if you aren’t too busy, I would like you to come to court with me today” he asked looking at you as you nodded quickly “no not at all! Of course I will!” you smiled excitedly, as he nodded “okay, good”.

Leaving the office, you completely lost track of the time,time hitting around 1 pm, having no clue you had just checked your phone with a text “CHRIS: I hope you’re okay, you didn’t text, just checking in, we gotta talk tonight” you sighed, shoving your phone in your purse, what could you possibly need to talk about? You sat in the back of the courtroom taking notes as Casey began the case, you followed along intently on the case as the intern you were but being first hand was exciting for you. “You did great!” you complimented Casey, following him out of the courtroom, holding both your notebook and bag you looked at him “I mean I knew the evidence was there but my god that was like an episode of Law and Order or something!” you laughed following to the car as he laughed in response “see kid, stick with me you can do that everyday of your life if you wanted” he grinned, holding the door open for you as you nodded in thank you before you felt a hand on your butt, gasping you turned and looked at him with shock on your face “What the hell!?” you turned away from him watching his face “oh don’t act like you didn’t like it” he shrugged as you looked over his face “Oh I did not ‘like it’” you put in quotes “I for sure did not appreciate that at all! You are my boss, what the hell” you shook your head, tossing his things in the passenger seat “oh like your boyfriend doesn’t mind, you clearly haven’t gotten much” he rolled his eyes in response to you, you scoffed turning  back to him “I will be going back to the office alone, and do not be surprised if i switch attorneys” you slammed the car door behind you walking away quickly.

Making it back to the office you walked inside quickly, ignoring the many glances from the other women in the office, making your way to your desk you grabbed your things quickly, as Nina made her way to your desk with a whisper “honey..” she whispered looking at you picking up your things. You turned to her with a slight sniffle “yeah?” you asked looking at her “are you okay? Oh honey” she whispered, giving you a hug, no one in the office had a clue that your own mentor groped you in a courthouse parking garage. You gave her a quick hug back as you whispered a soft goodbye and made your way out of the office and to your car. Once you made it to your car you sat back and cried softly, the tears streaming down your cheeks as your cheeks stained from your so called waterproof mascara. Starting the car you made your way home, sniffles and sighs the whole way, pulling into the driveway you sighed, grabbing your car keys and purse making your way inside. You made it inside and within seconds Zeus was beside you jumping up on your legs, you crouched down petting behind his ears and giving him a much needed hug, with a huff he rested his head on your shoulder.

After a few hours of sitting in your own pity on the couch with zeus you decided it was time to get off the couch and make something to eat. As you were standing in the kitchen you were scrolling through your phone, attempting to find a recipe or something to slightly interest you in making something for dinner, as you shouldn’t order takeout but it was in the cards. You looked through  a couple food blogs before coming across a tweet on your feed “OMG CHRIS IS IN LONDON OMG” you read the tweet a few times before continuing your investigation into the tweet. Taking the phone with you, you let Zeus back in from outside as you read through the tweets while you leaned against the door. You looked around with a scoff and pushed your hair back, you couldn’t be mad he was a grown man, but like london? You grabbed the phone quickly before dialing chris’s number quickly as you paced around the kitchen in the sweats and sweatshirt you borrowed from chris’s closet. You pulled the sleeves over your hands as you bit on your nails, waiting for the phone to pick up.

After a few short minutes the phone line clicked,signaling he had picked up and with a groan followed by “hello?” you sighed “chris” you snapped, probably louder than you should’ve as you expected him to be just waking up or sleeping from the time zones, “oh hey” he sighed again as you heard him adjusting in the bed “so uh, what did you want to talk about?” you asked as you thought logically, maybe it was a slip, maybe he didn’t mean to not tell you. “Oh I don’t remember now babe” he yawned loudly on the other end of the phone as you bit your lip “was it I don’t know… maybe the fact your in fucking london?!” you snapped over the phone as you looked around the kitchen, cringing at the fact you raised your voice at him, you heard the sigh as he sat up “oh yeah” he sighed “i’m so sorry I got on a flight and made it our here, it happened so fast I’m really sorry” you could hear the tiredness in his voice as he spoke, you felt horrible “okay but as your so called girlfriend you should’ve told me chris” you sighed pushing your hair back again. He sighed “yeah probably” he sighed as you groaned “yeah probably?” you mocked him over the phone as you sighed again “chris its fucking london! We had fucking plans this weekend!” you groaned “you could’ve even sent me a fucking text but no I find out my boyfriend is in fucking london over a god damn tweet” you yelled, zeus’s ears perked up at the raise of your voice “well maybe if my girlfriend” chris put emphases on the word “returned my phone calls and my texts we wouldn’t be in this mess now would we?” he sassed back. You laughed over the phone “you do realize I don’t sit and make movies right? I don’t have time to be accessible to my phone at your beckon call chris!” you yelled back as you could hear him adjust in the bed with a laugh “that's rich, but yet you're mad that I didn’t answer the phone and tell you i was in london?” he yelled back “seriously (Y/N) !” he finished with a sigh “you are upset im in london”. You shook your head knowing he couldn’t see it “No! I’m mad I didn’t even get a text that you were leaving the fucking count-” a knock interuptted your yelling as you sighed with a laugh as you heard him get out of bed. “Hold on” he said over the phone as he went to answer the door, you heard the door open and a “Hey Chris!”, a voice awfully femanine for being a buddy. You laughed and shook your head, ending the phone call there, you probably shouldn’t have ended on bad terms with the fight, was it dumb? Maybe. You sighed, starting to sob as you slid down and sat on the kitchen floor, the emotions of the day adding up for the day, flowing, you didn’t know what was going to happen with your life anymore, career or love wise.

-

TAGLIST: @onetwo3000​ | @memoriesat30 | @denise1605 | @angrybirdcr @hopefulbonkvoidland | @tessa-bl | @patzammit | @uniquebeautyqueen | @cocomel0613​

[shhh-no-ones-home]

cake walk bucky barnes x reader

+++++++++

Inspo can be found here, i really liked the idea and kinda ran with it lol

sorry ive been away for a while. ive been in a shit mindset but things around me are changing again and im hoping for the better. im away from home this week and figured id finally finish this, as well as restart the marvel shows on netflix so expect some new daredevil and punisher one shots in the near future 😁

also this is like half edited so if it sucks or i forgot to fix anything sorry

Song: soft by motionless in white

tag list: @cynic-spirit +++++++++

Bucky had been super tired lately. He had been having nightmares here and there and though he hadn't had one in a while he was still worried he'd hurt me in his sleep. So he was currently taking a nap in our shared room at the compound. We were only here for a few days to train new recruits and then we would all be back to our own homes. Me and buck, Sam, Clint, even Scott showed up. But then again he was always excited to be part of the team. Now I was in the kitchen like I usually was, stress-baking. But just to be safe, and per his request, I had a camera on buck while he slept to make sure he was still okay and I could rush to our room if he needed me.

So I stood at the island, gathering ingredients and singing softly to myself. not unusual for me to do, it was a good distraction after all and everyone else loved it because it made the place smell great. that and they all loved the many cakes, cookies, muffins, breads, and other baked goods I decided to make. a lovely thought really, one that brought a smile to my face as I began measuring out the dry ingredients. when I turned to look at the monitor though Bucky was gone, making me set the flour back onto the counter. Panic set in immediately. I tapped the screen twice, hitting the tracking cam on his watch and the footage coming up. I sighed deeply as I saw the blurry side video of Bucky murder-stomping his way through the halls. I tapped my own watch quickly.

"attention we have a 'wolf out of containment.' if you see him direct him to the kitchen but do not engage. If you wake him he'll hurt himself."

I said into it, rolling my eyes at the code name, and looking back to the monitor in worry. I heard my voice echo off the walls as he stepped towards the sound. One of the agents was walking down the hall and paused when he saw Bucky, rage behind his eyes as he got closer. Now Bucky was holding him harshly in his metal hand.

"Where is she?"

He said through gritted teeth and i could see both of their faces in the view on my watch.

"Kitchen. Down the hall to the left."

The agent squeaked out. Bucky threw him to the ground quickly before making his way down the hall. I double tapped the monitor again as he turned into the room. There was an intensity and pain strewn across his features as he made his way to me. whatever nightmare this was it had a full hold of him. he had been sleep walking a lot recently but it had never gotten this bad. but he knew what to do, even unconscious. Before he even made it to the table across the room Sam was rushing in behind hi, coming to a screeching halt when he realized what was happening to his best friend.

"I heard the code. Is everything okay?"

He asked and Bucky turned around, throwing a punch his way and him ducking. he made a scared face as he stood back up ready to fight.

"At ease soldier!"

I yelled and Bucky froze, mid motion as he began to throw another. He looked over his shoulder at me, seething, breathing heavy, eyes glazed over.

"Come here."

I said softly. He sent Sam a glare before doing as told, backing his way to the counter where i was standing. he never once stopped looking at Sam, or the other few agents that came rushing in with guns. that definitely didn't help.

"do you need help?"

one of them asked, looking between me and Bucky as he plucked a knife out of the wood block on the counter, holding it in a defensive position as he stood in front of me.

"no, I don't need help. Sam and I can take care of this."

i said matter-of-factly, the agent speaking into their watch and all three of them lowering their guns.

"just leave us be. everything is fine. if i need anything ill call."

they all nodded hesitantly, looking to Sam briefly before leaving. i sighed out when they were finally out of sight, side stepping buck and going back to measuring my sugar and vanilla.

"He sleep walking again?"

Sam asked quietly, stepping very slowly around the table and I nodded, moving to put mix my dry ingredients together. Bucky stood next to me, fist clenched tight around the knife as he watched Sam's every move with vigorous intent. I pulled one of the stools out from under the counter before grabbing a spoon and mixing the wet and dry ingredients together to make the cookie dough.

"Sit."

I offered buck and he sent me a confused looked. I glared at him and he did as told.

"Sam you mind setting a timer on that pad for twelve minutes?"

He nodded and did as told, stepping closer but not close enough for buck to do anything about it. they stared at each other as I molded the dough into balls on a tray.

"has this been happening a lot recently?"

Sam asked and i nodded, pushing the chocolate chips off the ends of my fingers.

"it hasn't been full mission before, and this one is lasting much longer."

i noted, washing my hands in the sink to the right of the counter.

"how do you know what to do?"

i let out a nervous laugh, tucking the tray of cookies into the hot oven behind me.

"in all actuality, I don't. I'm just hoping that the things I've tried before work. "

Bucky looked between me and Sam as I stood back up, drying my hands on the towel and moving to touch his cheek gently. he flinched for a second, staring at me as i tucked his hair behind his ear.

"its okay soldat. you can relax, he's not going to hurt me. he's my friend."

i said very softly, looking over his eyes as he turned back to Sam.

"put the knife down."

i said just above a whisper, moving to stand behind him. i began slowly running my fingers through his hair. he still held the knife tightly as i started to hum along to one of his favorite songs from his childhood. he had shared it with me sometime after we had moved in together. it had been my savior more than once.

"does that work?"

Sam asked and i sent him a look, trying to get Bucky to lean back into my chest. he kept jolting himself back up, fighting the urge to close his eyes. as I got to the end of the song though he had his head completely rested against me, body limp, and knife clattering to the rug beneath us. he had fallen back into a deep sleep, snoring softly as I continued to finger comb his hair.

"yes Samuel, it works."

i said, and then the timer went off. Bucky jolted upright, the stool shaking as i leaned forward and caught him before he fell off. I held his shoulders as he breathed heavily, looking around in deep confusion.

"Sam?"

he asked before looking back at me and drawing his brows.

"hey baby, its okay. I'm sorry we woke you."

he turned to me and took my hand.

"y/n, why am I in the kitchen?"

i let out a nervous laugh, letting him go and getting my cookies out of the oven.

"you were sleep walking again."

he groaned, standing up and freezing when he looked down.

"I didn't hurt anyone... did I?"

he said horrified as he picked the knife up. i shook my head frantically, taking it from him and putting it back in the block.

"no! no no no. baby you did not."

i said quickly through one breath, placing my hands on either side of his face. he looked like he was going to cry.

"hey, no, look at me. James. you didn't hurt anybody. I dropped the knife in surprise when you came in here. it had nothing to do with you."

Sam sent me a sad look as i tried to calm Bucky down.

"you're sure?"

he asked pained and i pulled him into a tight hug, cradling his head in my hand and mouthing to Sam to not say anything.

"yes Jamie I am sure. you are perfectly fine. scared the shit out of some agents. but no more."

he took in a shaky breath.

"i scared you."

he repeated just above a whisper and i pulled him away from me, holding his head in my hands and looking between his eyes.

"you just caught me by surprise, nothing we haven't been through before."

he sighed heavily and closed his eyes. i kissed his forehead gently.

"hey, now that you're awake, you want a cookie?"

i asked and he looked up at me, offering a small smile.

"uh, yeah, id love one."

i nodded once before turning and carefully taking one off the tray and placing it on one of the dry paper towels sat on the counter in front of him.

"made especially for my buckaroo."

i said and he laughed lightly before taking a bite. he was none the wiser and Sam sent me a testing look.

"Sam?"

i asked, holding one out to him and he took it begrudgingly. i went back to finger combing Bucky's hair as he snatched another. sending me a genuine smile as he chewed. i shared another knowing glance with Sam before he pulled another bar stool out and sat across from us.

"these are pretty good y/n, wish we could share with more of the guys here."

he said and i sent him a look.

"well i guess we'll just have to save them some for later. I'm sure they're all very busy right now with other important things."

i said a little condescendingly and he shook his head.

"so uh, i don't know what's happening but if i sit here any longer there wont be any left for anyone else. what do you say we go for a walk or something?"

Bucky said with a smile and i nodded, smiling back.

"i think that's a great idea. Sam?"

he looked from Bucky to me and to the tray.

"uh you guys go ahead. ill make sure these get to the guys, and that the recipe doesn't make its way into their daily reports."

i took Bucky's hand as he stood and nodded once at Sam in understanding. he was going to make sure no one got word of Bucky's incident, just in case. he was getting better after all.

"thanks Sam, it means a lot. come on buck, lets get some air."

[dewykth]

SWEET SEPTEMBER.

a @periminkle​​​ and @dewykth​​​ collaboration.

synopsis. for many, september symbolizes new beginnings. but for namjoon, this month never fails to send him back into the past. though this time, something seems different.

pairing. kim namjoon | female reader contains. fluff, angst, slice of life au, ballet instructor!reader, single dad!nj  word count. 7.5k+  warnings. death mentions, mature audience

dae’s note. surprise !!! this fic is dedicated to my favourite virgo karla @guklvr​​​​ !! happy birthday bae i hope you enjoy this lil thing me n vira whipped up for u!! (i stress wrote a lot of this ha.) also sry for lying & keeping you up but hopefully this makes u forgive me. but i hope ur day goes amazing ILYSM DUDE !!! <333 and a huge thank you to vira for hopping on board for this idea bc i cld not have done this without her !!! pls give her all the love !!!

vira’s note. KARLAAAA!!! i always gotta scream ur name it’s mandatory to start with a good scream ykno? bUT HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIRL 🥳  i already told u this too many times today but ILYSM !! like that full day without saying a single word to u felt so weird and i kept going into our chat and rereading our mssgs and wishing I was talking to u??? which is weird to admit?? but that literally how much i missed u idk how but im addicted to u so if you leave me I will literally die :))) aNYWAY have the bestestestest day ever and i hope u love the fic bc I ignored all my uni work to finish this !!! (also i feel reallyreallyreally bad about last night sO IM SORRY AGAIN BUT I HOPE THIS IS WORTH IT) 💖

Despite the papers carelessly stuffed into his leather briefcase, the dark coffee stain on his black slacks, and his unkempt locks resembling that of a bird’s nest, Namjoon’s become accustomed to the hectic nature of his mornings.

The kitchen table is practically buried under stacks of files, yet he brushes them aside to allow one corner of the glass surface to peek through. He plops the toddler in his arms onto a high chair before racing to the counter and sloppily pouring some honey nut cheerios into a small bowl, handing it off to his daughter. 

“Daddy?” her voice squeaks, a patient smile stretching across her lips. Her brown strands are tied up into pigtails at the crown of her head with pink ribbons that flutter with the movement of her tiny head. 

“Yes, angel?” He scurries around to their bedroom, peeling the stained fabric off his body and threading one leg through another pair of slacks fresh from the laundry. 

With Namjoon’s focus pinned on checking off the mental to-do list in his head, he misses the gentle, reassuring smile that stretches across her rosy lips. The adoration for her father is clear in her gaze. “You forgot to pour the milk.”

At the reminder, he squawks and hops back to the kitchen on one foot as he maneuvers his other leg through the pant hole. Swinging the fridge door open, he grabs the carton and sloppily pours the milk into her bowl—white droplets leaping out with their newfound freedom and forming perfect domes on the glass tabletop.

Cleaning the mess falls to the bottom of his priorities at the moment, and so he speeds off to the bathroom to ensure that his appearance is presentable for work while Dasom reaches over to pluck a tissue from the box, swiping the milky beads away before diving into her breakfast. She shoves as many cheerios into her small mouth as she can, rushing because she refuses to finish her meal in the car with their wild driver behind the wheel. 

Despite her mere four years of age, she knows from experience that a bowl of cereal and a shaky vehicle is a recipe for disaster.

Namjoon races over to his briefcase with most of his hair sleeked back, only the locks of his bangs hanging out to frame his forehead. As he slips his dark blazer on to complete his form-fitting suit, Dasom scoops the last few brown rings into her mouth and slurps the remainder of the liquid.

“Did you finish your milk?” he questions while cramming the edges of the loose leaves that peek past the seam of his briefcase, hurriedly zipping it up and turning to face her.

Dasom flips the edge of the bowl up to display its empty contents, gulping the last of her breakfast down her throat. As per routine, she scans her father for any inconsistencies in his attire, landing on his odd fitting bottoms.

“Daddy, your pants are on backwards.”

His eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, glancing down to affirm that the pockets at his sides are no longer at the front of his hips. Hastily, he shimmies out of his slacks once more and twists the fabric around to the proper orientation. 

Dasom hops off her chair, her bowl and wet kleenex in hand as she waddles over to the sink and waits for him to deposit the dirty dish into the sink and the sullied tissue into the trash. Although her short arms couldn’t reach over the countertop just yet, she’ll diligently drink every last drop of her milk in hopes of growing tall enough to take some of the load off of her father’s back.

He hoists Dasom up at the sight of the red car pulling up to the driveway, squeezing into the back seat. Namjoon doesn’t have to tell the driver to book it, as the calm man in front has learned to keep his foot pressed on the pedal. The car weaves through the morning traffic with concerning speed, snaking through the other vehicles littering the road as if they were no more than stationary pylons, simply there for practice.

Dasom remains on her father’s lap with his arms looped protectively around the seatbelt over her torso. She sinks into his embrace, fiddling around with his long, slender fingers as she watches the blurs of colour speeding past the window.

“Did you put your ballet shoes into your backpack, angel?” Namjoon loosens his grip on her, unhooking one hand to rummage through his own briefcase in order to confirm that he had indeed slid his laptop within the chaos inside. To keep her entertained, he playfully extends his digits out of her reach.

“Of course!” she chirps, a wide grin revealing the gaps between her teeth. The pads of her fingertips brush against his palm and tickle the sensitive skin there when she realizes that her arms lack the length required to latch onto his hand. “I can’t wait for class, we’ve got a new teacher coming in today!”

Humming absentmindedly, he sighs in relief at the sight of the silver device and packs the crumpled papers back in. “What happened to Ms. Kim?”

“She’s teaching the older class now.” The pout on her lips can be heard within the muffled lilt of her voice when she continues, “I asked her to stay until my birthday next week b-but she didn’t.”

Namjoon’s breath hitches at the reminder, but attempts to compose himself for his daughter’s sake. “It’s out of her control, angel, plus she’ll probably swing by anyway.”

His mind starts to fog up with the emotions he thought he buried last year–they swarm his every thought and nibble away at his sanity. He knows better than to believe that they would ever disappear. September will always be an insurmountable month for him.

“I might be a bit late to pick you up later, just sit tight and wait for Daddy, okay?”

She eagerly nods in response, noticing the dull red bricks of her school coming into view. “Okay, bye Daddy!”

Namjoon unlocks the seatbelt, wistfully watching his toddler bounce out of his arms and onto the asphalt below. No matter how many times he drops her off, it’s always difficult to be separated from her bright smile, but he reminds himself that it’s all for her; it makes things a little easier to bear.

“Have a good day at school.” He reciprocates her frantic waving through the window, craning his neck to watch her adorable form become smaller and smaller with the increased distance. Her full cheeks and crinkled eyes are engraved into the back of his mind.

Before long, Namjoon finds himself rushing into his office after an earful from his surly boss about everything from the late hour to the long list of meetings scheduled to all the work he’s got piled up. With his lips pursed and his head bowed, he somehow manages to make it past another lively morning.

Namjoon has a habit of overthinking. He figures it’s normal when you have a stressful job and a four year old full of energy to balance all by yourself. Not that overthinking about his daughter does him any good, because that is far from the reality. If anything, it just makes him, what you’d call, a bit... overprotective (over worrisome if you asked Jin). But it’s something he can’t really help. Even when she had just entered his life, so small and so blissfully unaware of the awful and evil things in the world, all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and shield her from it all as long as he could.

Though he’s very aware of the fact that it won’t be much longer, that won’t stop him from going over every single little thing that could go wrong in the meantime.

So, of course, when Namjoon’s asshole of a boss makes him stay two hours over his shift, all Namjoon can think about is Dasom. Is she okay? Has she eaten anything? Did she drink enough water today? She’s always dehydrated after her classes too. He usually calls Ms. Kim to check up on her, but his calls went straight to voicemail, which definitely wasn’t helping his hectic mind. Perhaps something had happened to her?

Oh god, maybe someone broke in and had injured Dasom?

The doors are thrown open, the sound of the doorknob hitting the wall reverberating through the room. The receptionist wearing her usual polka-dot dress jumps in her seat, eyes lifting from the intense scene on her phone to the entrance of the building. An unsure smile stretches across her ruby red lips at the familiar figure, though a bit disheveled and breathless. But before the customary ‘hello’ can even form on her tongue, the figure is rushing past her, leaving only a gust of air in his wake. The papers on her desk fall to the ground, and she sighs.

Namjoon is prepared to fight the (fictional) person who thinks breaking into a toddler ballet class is a good idea, but the scene in front of him once he pushes past the doors of the studio is one he is wholly unprepared for.

He sees Dasom first, and the relief that fills his body is indescribable. It’s far from the usual sight he’s greeted with when he picks her up late. She’s not sitting on one of the chairs in the far corner of the room. His heart doesn’t feel heavy, which comes with seeing his daughter so glum. This time it’s her laughter that greets him, not one provoked by him but by the figure standing in the middle of the room with her.

Dasom doesn’t seem to be aware of the presence of her dad yet, but the figure twirling her around turns, and her eyes land on Namjoon.

The reaction is immediate. The carefree smile that had been on your face slips off, a look of embarrassment and surprise overcoming your features. Namjoon only catches a glimpse, and somehow finds himself wishing that won’t be the last time he sees it. You let go of Dasom’s hand, quickly making your way to the stereo on the other side of the room. And that’s when-

“Daddy!”

Dasom wastes no time running into her father’s open arms, and Namjoon suddenly can’t remember why he was so worried in the first place. “Hi, angel.” he says, just loud enough for her to hear. She pulls back. “I’m so sorry for getting here so late. I promise i won’t do it again.”

But of course, Dasom holds nothing but forgiveness in her heart for her hard-working father. She does love teasing him, though. “Don't say sorry to me, say sorry to her.” she giggles, pointing behind her and Namjoon furrows his brow until he remembers they’re not the only ones in the room.

His eyes immediately move to where you stand awkwardly near the stereo, eyes moving around the room as if you hadn’t been watching the whole exchange. Namjoon sighs, realizing he definitely can’t avoid talking to you now. He stands straight, holding onto Dasom’s hand as he makes his way over to you. You only seem to grow more nervous as he nears, and Namjoon distantly recalls Jin telling him he came off as intimidating to most people. Something about his ‘beefy’ arms, in his own words. (“And that stupid and unfairly attractive face!”) He goes for a smile because it's not like he can control his physique.

“Hi, I’m so sorry about…”

Namjoon stops.

Maybe it was the overwhelming distress before, or the really shitty lighting of the studio, but he hadn’t realized how pretty you were before. But now he’s standing right in front of you and he can’t seem to form a coherent thought. Pretty can’t be the right word. He realizes how creepy he probably looks, running in here like a madman and then downright staring at the (very beautiful) woman who looked after his daughter? Not cool, man.

You clear your throat, before extending a hand to him. “Hi, I’m ____, the new ballet instructor.”

Your voice sounds just like honey.

Namjoon stares at your hand dumbly, before the sound of Dasom snickering (very discreetly) behind him snaps him out of it. But instead of introducing himself, or apologizing, or just taking your fucking hand, he says-

“What happened to Ms. Kim?”

He mentally face-palms.

Not. Cool. Man.

Your face falls, and Namjoon has never wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole more than he does now. “Uh, she’s instructing the teen class now.” you chuckle awkwardly, dropping your hand.

“Oh-”

“Daaaad,” Dasom's voice sounds annoyed, and perhaps it’s a bit silly of Namjoon to feel like he’s being scolded, but that is exactly how he feels right now. “I told you this. In the morning. Remember?”

He doesn’t. “Ah, right of course,” Namjoon scratches the back of his neck. It wasn’t like he meant to forget, he had just been too busy thinking about the other things every September would bring. “Sorry, I’m Kim Namjoon. Dasom’s dad.”

This time he offers his hand, and he thanks the skies above that you don’t seem to hate him because you fit your hand against his. Warm, like honey. How long had it been since he last made a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl?

Too long.

“I’m terribly sorry for arriving so late it’s just that my boss, who’s a huge-” Namjoon glances at Dasom, who is now in her own world, singing some song she learned in school, “jerk, decided to assign these reports last minute and the printer would just not work and then traffic hour-”

Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, but Namjoon can see the amusement bubbling in your eyes. He flushes a deep red, eyes falling to the floor, realizing he started ranting.

“It’s okay. Really.”

When he looks back up, there’s a smile on your face. Not like the one before, this one was more reserved, but genuine, reassuring. And just like that, he’s sure you don’t hate him.

Namjoon’s not sure he likes this feeling though.

“Straighten your arms out, girls!” you belt over the classical music that floods the studio’s walls, scanning your army of toddlers in tutus whose arms immediately tense at your command. Making your way through the row, you poke and prod everywhere from their shoulders to their ankles. “Arch your back more, Somin.”

Their muscles violently tremble in response to the strenuous routine you’ve introduced, facial features scrunched in concentration and a resolute will to uphold their positions despite the hyperextension of their limbs. A mix of pity and pride swells in your chest at their effort. “Keep your chins up, the annual recital is only a couple of days away.”

Cheers erupt throughout the small room, disrupting the focus and spoiling their perfect form, yet you refuse to quiet excitement because of the renewed vigour buzzing throughout the room. The next hour depletes all of their built-up energy with demi-piles, pirouettes and sautés.

A glance at the analog clock in the corner informs you of the five minutes remaining before the end of class, so you pause the speakers and instruct the girls to stretch themselves out as they wait for their guardians to trickle in. They collectively sigh in relief before dropping to the floor like flies.

You snort at their dramatics with an amused smile playing at your lips. “I said to stretch, not to lay down and nap.”

“Can’t we nap and stretch at the same time?”

Strolling over to the source of the voice, you cluck your tongue at her limp form sprawled across the wooden floor and cross your arms, struggling to keep your giggles from breaking your angered facade. “And how do you suppose we do that, little Miss Dasom?”

She flashes her toothless grin up at you. “Like this!” With one leg bent over the other and her hands looping around to hold her twisted limbs to her torso, she shuts her eyes and exaggerates her snores.

At this point, it’s nearly impossible to withhold your snickers, and the rest of the class joins in your laughter. You pick up on Dasom’s tinkling giggles between each of her heavy breaths. The lighthearted jokes continue as kids are signed out with bright grins on each of their faces.

You wait for the rest of the toddlers to file out one by one, waving goodbye and checking them off your list until, as usual, Dasom is the only toddler left. Her tiny feet still clad in her faded ballet shoes waddle up to you, tugging on your blouse.

“Your pirouette was a bit wobbly today, do you want to go over—”

“‘M tired,” she interrupts, slouching her shoulders with an adorable frown marring her lips. Her exhaustion is justified, since the routine is rather exhausting, and with their recital right around the corner, you worked them to the bone today.

The odd timing of the switch between you and Ms. Kim left you with a little under a week to tweak and perfect their current choreography. A sloppy routine is not the way you want to present your skills to their parents for the first time, thus you were stricter with the kids than normal.

Your sympathy wins out, and so you gather Dasom’s lithe figure into your arms as you head to the closest wall. With your back supported, you spread out your legs and place her in your lap.

“My birthday is this Thursday.”

“Mhm,” you hum, bobbing your head to signal for her to continue her train of thought.

Her back faces you, but when her head tips down to stare at her hands, you know she’s contemplating her words carefully. Rather than encouraging her to speak freely, you wait for her to feel comfortable enough to reveal her thoughts; and surely enough, her shell cracks open just enough for you to peep through. “Do you wanna come?”

“I would be honoured.” A giddy smile splits across your lips. “Is Daddy picking you up again today?”

She flips around in your hold, wrapping her arms around your waist and snuggling her head to your chest. Her words are muffled into the fabric of your thin shirt, but her tone indicates her affirmation.

Suddenly self-conscious of your heartbeat—that Dasom can definitely hear with her ear pressed up against you—picking up pace at the mention of her father, you suppress your thoughts with a guilty conscience. You internally chide yourself for harbouring feelings for the charming, taken, man, defying arguably one of the most important fundamental rules of becoming an instructor.

Do not develop silly crushes on your student’s parents.

“Ms. ____?” her faint question snaps you out of your reverie, attention brought back to the present moment. While preoccupied, your hand took on a mind of its own, gingerly patting the space between the little girl’s shoulder blades at a slow rhythm.

She gazes up at you when you halt your rhythmic movements, sharp eyes boring into yours. “Are you gonna ask Daddy to come see me dance?”

The edges of your lips flip up in what you hope to be an encouraging smile as you nod your head. Subconsciously, you begin to stress over another encounter with Namjoon, formulating a script to hopefully avoid the stiff, tense atmosphere that lingered throughout all your previous interactions.

“Daddy’s always really busy,” she slurs, drowsiness coating her words and weighing down on her lids. Grumbling under her breath about her numb legs, Dasom crawls onto the floor beside you with her head resting on your thigh. “He’s always working hard for me.”

Your eyes soften at the fetal position she’s taken up on the ground; not only was Dasom lucky to have such a dedicated father, but Namjoon was also blessed with a caring daughter. “You don’t think he can make it?”

“It’s okay,” she whispers and you have to crane your ears to listen. You stroke the strands littering her forehead, gingerly caressing the crown of her head. “It’s okay if Daddy can’t come. I know him, he’s trying to do it all because Mommy’s not with us anymore, but it’s okay. I still love him even if I can’t see him lots.”

A knot forms between your eyebrows, a bittersweet ache forming within the creases of your heart. The painful constriction of your chest ebbs and flows with your shallow breaths that can’t seem to make it past your throat. You bite your lip to subdue the plentiful liquid gathering at your waterline.

No more than a croak escapes your lips before the door to the studio flies open, meeting the adjacent wall with a bang!

“I’m so sorry, my meeting ran late and I couldn’t—” the rest of his speech gets stuck in his windpipe at the sight of you, eyes rimmed red and sniffling, with Dasom, ostensibly dead asleep, on your thigh. “Did she…?”

You blink away your incoming tears, although your dignity has been completely thrown out the window, seeing as he believes that his four-year-old kid made a grown woman, who just so happens to be her ballet teacher, bawl her eyes out.

As you go to gently shake Dasom awake, she sluggishly lifts her head off of your lap and starts to scale your torso like a koala on a tree. Your confusion is vocalized through the high-pitched hum in your throat, but your efforts to pry off her limbs, tightly wound around the small of your waist, are futile.

“Uh, Dasom? It’s time to go home now, angel.” Despite his firm words, Namjoon’s tone is unsure and shaky; he can feel cold sweat build up in the lines of his palms. He knows his daughter, and she can be periodically stubborn and insistent the way children are at her age, thus even as you come to stand, she’s stuck to you like glue. “Would you, uh, did you need a ride?”

You mimic the sheepish smile on his face, hoping the flaming blush you feel on your cheeks isn’t as visible as it seems. “Sure.”

With Dasom latched onto you, both of you make your way to the red car outside after you lock up the studio. Namjoon courteously opens the car door for you, what with your arms supporting his clingy toddler; although, with the brute force he uses, you worry for the state of the hinges. Thankfully, they stay intact and he’s able to slip into the backseat after you.

Before an awkward silence can settle, you clear your throat and prepare to ask him about his day, but you’re interjected by Namjoon’s sudden stammering, “D-driving’s such a hassle for me so Jin drives us everywhere. Jin knows how to drive though, so, don’t worry.” He finishes with a deep chuckle that dies off nearly as quickly as it began. Oh, that’s unexpected.

“You don’t to drive yourself?” Rather than being processed in your brain and logically thought through, the question immediately enters your mouth without any prior scanning for dumbass-content. You instantly regret it, feeling as though it’s much too invasive. “You don’t have to answer that, I—”

The hearty laughter that meets your ears is “No, I do. Sometimes. But its easier raising this one like this.” His tone turns sweet at the mention of Dasom as he reaches over to pat her head, and you’re overcome with an intense desire to prod more into his personal life. Why does he have to work so much? Which shirt in his closet is his favourite? How does he like his eggs in the morning?

“I’m not sure if you already knew about the annual recital on Saturday, but Dasom’s been practicing really hard for weeks and the kids are all really talented, so it would definitely be worth your time...”

As he’s gazing at his daughter, galaxies of devotion and longing swirl within his cocoa irises. The cool light of the moon shines through the windows of the car, illuminating his sharp jawline and strong brows. You’re absolutely mesmerized by the sight in front of you. “You must be really busy, huh?”

“More than I’d like to be.”

You rip your entranced gaze away from Namjoon, willing yourself to steady your frantic breaths.

The remainder of the ride still drips with awkward tension, although with a definite lighter tone than before. Jin pulls up to your apartment with your direction and you dislodge a sleepy Dasom from your torso, which is much easier now that her limbs have gone slack with sleep. Handing her off to Namjoon, who practically engulfs her tiny form with his broad chest, you rush out of the vehicle with a quick, “See you!”

You slam the door closed before he can say anything, racing into the comfort of your home with your heart in your throat.

The last thing you had expected to do on a Thursday evening was to go to a birthday dinner. Thursdays are your days off, your in-days. The ones you spend lounging on your couch with a face mask and some wine. And yet, here you are.

When you received a text this morning, the last person you had expected it to be was Namjoon. Much less Namjoon asking you to come over for Dasom’s birthday. You weren’t going to say yes, hell, you had thought of downright ignoring it. It was weird, wasn’t it? But Dasom had quickly carved a toddler-shaped hole into your heart. Truly, you had said yes before the message was even typed out.

And so now you stare at the tall apartment building in front of you, definitely feeling more nervous than before. You knew that Namjoon had to be well-off to afford a weekday chauffeur, but damn did you not expect him to be this well-off.

It seemed today was the day to expect absolutely anything.

You enter the opulent building, signing in at the front desk before entering the large, mirrored elevator. The beating of your heart picks up the more floors you pass, and you can’t help but fidget with your appearance. Namjoon had said it would only be you three, which you guessed was supposed to calm your nerves but really, it did anything but that. The mere thought of eating dinner with Namjoon was nerve-wracking. But now you were about to eat dinner and enter his home; you had no fucking clue what you were getting yourself into.

The doors slide open, and you step into the hallway. A single door could be seen at the end of the hallway, so you quickly make your way over. You stop right in front, taking a deep breath in before pushing the doorbell. A beat, a crash, another beat, then-

The door swings open, and your breath catches in your throat.

Namjoon looks heavenly as always, but seeing him in clothes other than his usual black slacks makes your heart do a cartwheel. God, this is dangerous.

“Ms. ____!”

Before Namjoon can form a hello, Dasom is running past him and wrapping her small arms around your legs. “You came! See daddy! I told you she’d come.” her tongue pokes out of her mouth, aimed straight at her father and you stifle a laugh.

“Did he think I wouldn’t?” you ask, eyebrow arched as you glance at Namjoon, who seems to have a permanent pink hue on his face.

“He said you wouldn’t!”

“Oh, really? What else did he say?”

“He said I had to help him clean either way!”

“Alright, Dasom. That’s enough.” He says firmly, clearing his throat and trying to act as unaffected as possible. His eyes shift to meet yours. “Why don’t you come inside?”

As much as this day really sucked for Namjoon, today had been… different. Not all too much. Of course, getting up was the hardest part, but he had decided to make Dasom her favourite breakfast meal instead of her usual cereal. He had also made sure to get her all the toys she had been wanting, and planned their day out to do Dasom’s favourite things. Namjoon just wanted this day to be special for her. That was all he cared about.

But when Dasom had asked him to invite you, he had hesitated.

Dasom had never spent her birthdays with anyone else but Namjoon. Not that it was intentional, but Namjoon liked to have this day just for the both of them. Because that’s how it’s always been. He didn’t know what it was about you that made his daughter talk about you all the time. Or why she wanted to spend a birthday with you. But how could he deny her? And so, the text was sent.

And now, as Namjoon puts away the dishes while you sit on his couch, he realizes he hadn’t thought of her today. Not as much as the years before. Dinner had been so... nice. It felt nice to have someone else around. Namjoon loves Dasom, but he hadn’t realized how distant he had gotten from everything that had once seemed to be the centre of his life.

Namjoon closes the dishwasher, exiting the kitchen and making his way to the living room. He places the two glasses on the table before pouring the dark red liquid.

“I hope you like Merlot.”

“Oh, please. Anything’s fine.”

You take the wine glass, sending him a thank you before taking a drink. “So,” you lean back, “remind me how to play this again.”

“Ms.____ I told you. You have to take a block without knocking the tower over,” Dasom shows you by pushing a middle wooden block out, “then you have to place it on top, like this.'' She places the same block on top of the tower.

“Ah, right! I just need to make sure if I want to win.”

“You can’t! I’m the best!”

“Oh really? And what about you?” you turn, brow raised and eyes playful.

“Pshh,” he scoffs, leaning forward. “Who do you think she takes after?”

He doesn’t think he’s ever lost a game so quickly.

Namjoon watches as you close Dasom’s door quietly from the hallway before you make your way back to the family room. “She’s out like a light. I guess all that tower building got to her.”

Namjoon snorts. He feels oddly disappointed as he watches you gather your things to go. Was it weird that he wanted you to stay? “Do you need me to get you a ride? I can call Jin to drive you home.”

“No, it’s fine! Really! I already ordered an Uber anyway.” You grab your coat near the door. Before Namjoon can unlock the door, you touch his shoulder. “Listen, thank you for inviting me today. I know you probably wanted to spend this day together instead, but I... “ you inhale, because you aren’t sure of what you want to actually say “thank you.”

Would it be weird to say how much better you made today? Probably. “You don’t… have to thank me. I think I should be the one doing the thanking. I really wanted this day to be special for Dasom and you… you definitely helped. So, thank you.”

The door opens, and the light of the hallway fills his dim flat. “Guess we’re even then.” you smile before turning, making your way to the elevator. Namjoon shuts the door once the sight of you is gone, but the smile on his face remains

“Guess we are.” he whispers wistfully

Perhaps stopping at a flower vendor when you’re already running late was a bad idea, but Namjoon wasn’t thinking about time. He had seen the bouquet of flowers and imagined the huge smile that would stretch across Dasom’s face, and that was all he needed to swerve into the left lane.

Now, though, as he anxiously watches the cars in front of him move a foot forward after thirty minutes, he’s sure he should have just left the fucking flowers alone.

Namjoon doesn’t know how long he’s been shifting his eyes from the traffic to the watch ticking around his wrist, but by a miracle, the cars start moving. Slowly, then he’s speeding down the highway, praying to the skies above he’ll make it in time. Even if he arrives in the midst of the dance, he can’t miss this recital. He won’t.

He sighs in relief when he sees the familiar glass building, though it’s cut short when he sees the parking lot. No available place in sight. Fuck. Namjoon is sure he looks insane right now, swerving around the parking lot in search for an empty spot, or really just any fucking spot that looks like it could fit his monster of a car.

Then the clouds seem to open up, and right near the entrance is a vacant spot. Namjoon swears his mouth almost waters at the sight. Quickly speeding around the lot, he parks, but not before flipping off the angry parent who tries to beat him to it. Namjoon exits his car, quickly grabbing his coat and the large bouquets of flowers from the backseat. He runs to the entrance, practically throwing the shriveled paper at the ticket clerk.

Namjoon slows as he nears the theatre doors, taking a deep breath before calmly opening it. He had completely forgotten to book seats in advance, so he’s not surprised to see the velvet seats filled to the brim. When he looks to the stage, he’s relieved to see that there’s still time until Dasom comes on.

Now, Namjoon knows he’s not the most… balanced person. It’s common knowledge that he trips over his feet and knocks things over sometimes. (Oh, but definitely more than the average person.) Now, if you were to ask Namjoon if he pays attention to his surroundings, he'd say yes.

But if you were to ask Namjoon what he tripped over, he wouldn’t know. It doesn’t matter, because now there’s a furious mother with a horrendous bob cut glaring at him, and what he thinks to be a broken camcorder on the floor. The only thing he can manage is an awkward smile and an even more awkward apology. Namjoon offers to give her the cost for repairs, hell, even offers to buy her a new one. The woman snatches the bills from his hands but she doesn’t go back to minding her business like he thought she would. No, instead she starts to argue with him, in the middle of her child’s recital, no less!

Namjoon can’t do anything but stare at her as she blabbers on about how horrible he is for throwing her camcorder on the floor. (Not like it had much life left, that thing looked like it was from 2007.) She’s damn near spitting on his face, and causing other parents to turn around and glare at them. As if it was his fault. Who knew she had such an attachment to the damn thing!

A hand lands on his shoulder, and for a second he’s sure it’s security ready to escort him out of the building. But when he turns, he’s surprised to see it’s you. Like an angel had ascended from the clouds to save Namjoon from the wrath of a ballet mom. And just like that, you’re leading him away, taking a seat two rows before the stage. Namjoon’s eyes widen at the sight of the empty seat beside you.

It’s that feeling again, and Namjoon’s palms start to get sweaty as he takes a seat. “Jesus, thank you for that,” he whispers, relishing your quiet laughter that follows.

“Of course. She was probably a blink away from going full-blown Karen on you.” you tease.

“Oh, and that wasn’t?”

“Oh, Joon, you haven’t seen how angry ballet moms can get.” you both laugh, huddled together as if you’re sharing a special secret. It seems so natural. As if this is where he’s supposed to be. So much that Namjoon almost doesn’t catch the nickname, but how could he miss it when you say it just like she used to?

The stage lights darken, and Namjoon is grateful for the excuse to look elsewhere. He’s sure if he would have stared at you for just a bit longer, he would have done something completely and utterly stupid. “This is her.” you whisper, and Namjoon buries the thought away.

A blue hue shines across the stage before the soft melody begins to play, filling the room with the sounds of strings and keys. One by one, tiny swans begin to come into view, prancing around the stage. Namjoon catches sight of Dasom, looking adorable in her white tutu and he can’t help the proud smile that makes its way onto his face. He watches with adoration as she does her pirouettes, and maybe there’s some water overflowing in his eyes as they finish their dance, bowing towards the audience.

You both stand, clapping and cheering the loudest, uncaring of the stares from the snobby rich parents because you’re both too damn proud of Dasom to care. For a moment, Namjoon pretends that it’s different, simpler. That it’s not only his child on stage but yours. Ours. He thinks he likes the sound of that too much.

Once the show ends, you lead Namjoon backstage where the buzz of dozens of girls talking fills the air. You tell him that you need to check in on the other kids and disappear through a hallway. He spots Dasom quickly, or rather, she spots him.

“Daddy! You came!”

Namjoon lifts Dasom with his free arm, twirling her around before placing a big kiss on her forehead. Her giggles fill him with delight, and he doesn’t care that his cheeks hurt from how hard he’s been smiling. “Of course I came, angel. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He places her on the ground before he grabs the bouquet of sunflowers from his other arm. The sight of her favourite flower makes Dasom jump with joy. She takes the flowers, and Namjoon silently coos at how much smaller they make her look. Then she spots the other bouquet of flowers in his arm. She scrunches her brows together, about to ask who those are for before her eyes catch something behind Namjoon.

“Ms. ____!”

“Dasom!”

Dasom jumps into your arms, and you laugh at her enthusiasm. “You did so well! I’m so proud of that pirouette!” You twirl her around once her feet hit the ground, smiling as you watch her stumble slightly. Namjoon can’t help but smile too.

“Look what daddy got me, Ms. ____! Look!” Dasom lifts the flowers up, almost shoving them into your face.

“Wow, these are very beautiful, Dasom!”

“Look! He got you some too!” she giggles, and you look at her confusedly then at Namjoon. He sighs, looking pointedly at Dasom despite the cherry hue making its way across his cheeks. She giggles once again before running to her friends. “Dasom!” but it's futile.

If it weren’t for the consistent chatter, Namjoon’s sure there would be an agonizing silence to fill the space between you. You walk closer to him, looking down at your shoes bashfully. “Ah, these-” he takes the bouquet from his arm, “these are for you.”

You looked surprised to say the least. Eyes wide and glassy, your mouth falling ajar. “Wow, uh, really?” you ask, glancing up from the bouquet. He nods shyly.

Listen, he had only planned to buy Dasom her favourite flowers. But then he caught sight of these beautiful yellow roses, tips painted a light amber orange. Somehow they reminded him of you. And the way you had left him with his heart feeling lighter for the first time in years the other night. Maybe it was a way of saying thank you. He’ll admit, he didn’t think it all the way through, but the way you’re smiling at him right now makes him think it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

There’s a moment where it seems to just be you and him, despite the tons of parents and children running around. He’s only focused on you, and the way your eyes drop to his lips, if only for a millisecond. Namjoon wants to say it. God, he wants to say it so badly. “Listen I… I’ve been meaning to ask you,” his voice fades away as his eyes catch yours. Hopeful. Beautiful. Glimmering.

Just like hers.

“Do you, uh, need a ride home?”

And the bubble bursts.

You step away, looking at anything but him and he hates it. He despises it. He wants you to look at him like that again. He wants nothing more than to pull you back and kiss you senselessly, like his mind is screaming for him to do. But he can’t. He can’t do it for some fucking reason and he almost wants to cry in frustration because why can’t this just be easier? Why is it so hard to move on? You don’t deserve this. You deserve so much better than what he can offer you. And that thought keeps him still.

“Uh, sure.”

Quiet.

Say something, idiot! Tell her what you’ve been dying to say! Just fucking say it!

Namjoon hates himself for the next words that tumble out of his mouth.

“Let’s find Dasom.”

The drive to your house is just like it was before, except this time there’s no chatter to fill the emptiness. Dasom is sound asleep in the backseat. You've never seemed more distant than now, facing the window, body pressed against the door. You had almost begged to go in the back with Dasom, and Namjoon doesn’t know why he didn’t just let you.

How did it come to this? This wasn’t what he wanted. This night wasn’t supposed to go like this. Everything should have gone differently.

He doesn’t know how he’ll ever fix this. If things will go back to normal. If he completely ruined it. But he’s too afraid to ask. Too afraid to know.

Namjoon has never hated the quiet more.

The sight of your apartment complex fills him with dread. All he can think about is all he wants to say, all he should have said, all he wants to take back. God, Namjoon wishes he could take it back. If only there was a way to turn back the time. Why had he been so afraid to make a move? Why did it hurt so much? But he knows going back wouldn’t help. Not when he doesn’t know if he would have done it differently.

His car comes to a stop, and the doors unlock. He faintly catches the small thank you before the passenger door slams shut. Namjoon watches as you make your way up the pathway, feet moving briskly and it feels like he’s watching you walk away from him.

You’re shuffling through your bag, looking for your key. And fuck, is he really just going to this go?  Is he that stubborn that he can’t see past himself? He can’t. He can’t let you go. Not like this.

Well do something, dumbass!

The door of his car is thrown open, and before he can overthink it-

“____!”

You still. You turn.

Namjoon shuts the door. He walks up the steps and stops a few feet away from you, but he feels like he’s miles away. You look up at him, questioning. Your eyes aren’t the same ones. Not like you looked at him before. Yet they’re still warm. Inviting. Namjoon is tongue-tied, and all those words he wanted to say are gone now.

“Are we… good?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I just…” he scratches the back of his neck. “That moment back at the recital. I… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” you say, simply. When he looks at you, he can’t tell what you’re feeling. You’ve blocked him off. “Namjoon, really. It’s fine.”

But is it really? He wants to ask. But he doesn’t. It’s quiet again, this time the sound of the wind rustling the browning leaves above filling the space. Still.

“I… god, I don’t know why this is so hard. Ever since, you know,” you don’t. “I… I didn’t think I'd ever get an opportunity to…” he inhales, unsure of what he wants to say first.

“I just feel like I ruined it so carelessly.”

You don’t say anything for a few moments. You only stare at him, really stare at him. Like you can see through his mirage, through the walls he’s spent so long building up. You’re taking it all, but there’s nothing he can take back from you.

“You didn’t.” you whisper it so quietly, Namjoon would have thought his mind had taken pity on him. But a smile slips onto your face. Unlike the other ones. It doesn’t fill him with joy. It doesn’t give him butterflies. This one hurts.

And he knows you’re telling the truth.

“This… It might take a while.”

The wind picks up. The leaves rustle. The cold, biting.

“That’s ok. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

Your lips are bittersweet on his tongue.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN TO KARLA !! ILYYYY <3

[nxrthmizu]

hey babe! idk if u take this kind of requests, im terribly sorry if u dont, i didnt saw anything bout it so im sorry once again. im also sorry if this so happens to trigger u or make u uncomfortable, but if u could perhaps make suna and osamu's reaction to having an insecure s/o? like, she was bullied when younger bc of her weight, so she avoids mirrors, tries dangerous diets and overexercises herself trying to feel better? i had to go to the hospital bc of that and could really use some comfort

»»——⍟——««

request | suna and osamu with a s/o who’s insecure about their weight

warning(s) | self-insecurity, overexerting 

words | 1.3k

author’s note | Hey Ana! (It’s been a while, watch me drop into your inbox later >:)) Of course I’ll write this, feel free to dm me if you need someone to talk to okay? I hope you’re feeling better now, remember that your body loves you, so love your body too, okay? <3 mwah 

»»——⍟——««

↬ suna rintarou��

the first time he brought you to his apartment, he noticed how you eyed the reflective surfaces like they were a threat 

you avoided the windows and the one floor-length mirror he has in his room 

he didn’t understand why you hated reflective surfaces so much, but the next time you were over at his apartment, he had installed curtains and he hid his mirror inside the closet 

when he brought you to a family gathering, he noticed how you flinched when some of his aunts made comments about your weight (he didn’t like them much either, but after seeing how much they affected you he swore he was going to tell them ‘Hi Aunty, you still look pretty young for 75!’ his aunts are only 40-50 years old.) 

his aunts eyed you and told you ‘Wow ah girl, you gained some weight since the last time I saw you! Come come, I introduce you to this weight-loss drink, my friend sells it so you can get it for cheaper price!’ 

the whole time suna was narrowing his eyes and thinking to himself that you didn’t need the stupid weight-loss drink because he thinks you’re perfect the way you are 

he’ll be darned if he let them talk to you let that, especially since you look even more uncomfortable by the passing moment 

so he interrupts, putting his arm around your waist ‘Wow Aunty, your skin still looks pretty clear, especially since you’re already 70!’ 

they definitely looked offended but he continued, ignoring them ‘And this weight-loss drink that your friend is selling... Are you drinking it? Because if so...’ he looked them up and down ‘It doesn’t look very effective.’ 

you’re confused, but you let him do what he wants 

your man totally tore down his aunts, no mercy at all 

when he was finished, he smiled sweetly at them, told them the two of you needed to get going, and high-tailed out of the family event he didn’t really want to be at anyway 

his younger sister covered for the both of you, saying that one of suna’s friends had an emergency and the two of you needed to leave to help his friend 

after he brought back to his home, he dragged you into the bedroom, plopped you on the bed, and asked you to be honest with him 

you admitted that you were bullied when you were young, and that throughout your teenage years you were constantly picked at by family members/classmates about your weight 

you also told him that’s why you avoid mirrors and reflective surfaces, and that you tried dangerous diets and overexercised to the point you collapsed 

the whole time he was getting even angrier but he tried not to let it show because damn it he loves you so much why can’t you love yourself too???

proceeded to drag out the floor length mirror and pointed to every part of your body and explained what he liked about it 

‘your arms. I like how they feel when you wrap them around me for a hug’ ‘your stomach is always so warm and I love when you let me lie on your stomach’ ‘your thighs are so cute and they feel nice when they’re tangled with my legs’ 

suna would set an alarm on his phone to remind him to tell you he loves your body every day 

he also set up a healthy diet for you, and if you want to go back to exercising he would join you and make sure you don’t overexert yourself 

this man would appoint himself as your personal trainer, he’ll go on jogs with you every morning, would help you with your sit ups, will massage your sore muscles after a workout 

10/10 the most supportive athlete boyfriend ever 

↬ miya osamu 

he expresses his love for you in onigiris, so imagine his surprise when you decline his newest salmon onigiri recipe 

‘what’s wrong?’ immediately drops everything, has a mini crisis because do you not love him anymore??? did you find someone who makes better onigiris??? 

you shake him off, tell him it’s nothing, that you’re just not hungry 

do you take him for  idiot because nope he’s not convinced, not at all 

but you didn’t seem like you wanted to talk about it so he lets it be, he won’t push you if you don’t want to tell him 

osamu started questioning his cooking skills because you’ve been eating less, you’ve been telling him you have no appetite 

please tell him it’s not his fault this man is panicking 

it went to the point where he called atsumu for help because he’s desperate 

atsumu listened to him (without interrupting, what a miracle) and these two clueless brothers tried to piece together what’s wrong 

they did not come up with a conclusion lmao 

it isn’t until the two of you went to eat dinner with your family that he realises what the problem was the whole time 

your cousin, who’s a model, eyes you and tells you you’ve gotten fatter, you should probably get on a diet again

he doesn’t miss the way you flinch visibly 

your mother snapped at your cousin, saying that as long as you’re healthy it’s fine 

your brother/father told you to ignore your cousin and put some food in your plate 

but you didn’t touch your food after that, you just smiled weakly and said you weren’t hungry- That was the point that he realised that his cooking wasn’t the problem 

the drive home is quiet, because you’re just staring outside the window with this blank expression 

the first thing he does when he gets home is make you an onigiri and a cup of tea, because you didn’t eat much and he will make sure you at least get something in your stomach 

he had that expression that said ‘if you don’t eat I will feed you this one mouthful at a time’ 

so you ate until he was satisfied 

he sat down on the couch next to you and made you look at him 

‘you are amazing the way you are, I love your body just like I love every other part about you’ he told you with a very determined expression ‘I’ll find a way to make my onigiris with less calories as long you promise me you’ll eat enough’ 

‘I don’t know what happened to you when you were younger, but all I know is that your cousin is an idiot. you shouldn’t go on a diet, instead you should eat healthily. I’ll research what foods are good for you and I’ll come up with new recipes.’ 

you were ready to cry because how much more romantic can he get, making new recipes just for you 

you told him that you were bullied for your weight when you were younger, and that you tried dangerous diets and once overexercised until you collapsed and had to go to the hospital 

not gonna lie, this man was ready to hunt down your cousin and murder someone 

‘if you ask me, you look pretty healthy, but if you want to exercise we could do it together, I used to play volleyball in high school after all- And I’ll look up on foods that will help you with your weight’ 

he made you promise him that you wouldn’t keep saying you weren’t hungry and that you would eat 

was the human version of a golden retriever puppy when you tried his new, less-calorie salmon onigiri :) tell him it’s delicious, he’ll love you forever 

»»——⍟——««

I hope this was satisfactory! Like I said before, feel free to dm me if you need to talk okay? Also I’ll send some extra comfort your way later <3 mwah take care of yourself! 

»»——⍟——««

[machine-gun-casie]

Almond Poppy Seed Muffins

you’re hired to help with the menu at colson’s new cafe and the lines of employer and employee quickly blur.

wc: 6k (!!!)

-

“Sit up, man.” Slim knocked Colson upside the head. “Menu person’s coming.”

Colson groaned and lifted his head off of the one table in the unopened cafe. “Tell me again why we booked this meeting for eight in the fucking morning.”

“Because it’s professional.” Slim whispered as the creak of the door echoed in the empty area. “Now sit the fuck up.”

You walked over with your shoulders back and your head held high, looking as professional as possible. Colson’s eyes were comically wide as he watched you approach the table. Your confidence was coming off in waves and Colson couldn’t help but be attracted to it.

Slim stood up. “Hi, you must be y/n.” He smiled at you and reached out to shake your hand. You smiled back and Colson immediately forgot he was hungover. 

“Yeah, I am. You’re the one who talked to me on the phone?” 

“That was me. I’m the manager. You can call me Slim.” Slim pulled back his hand and patted Colson on the shoulder. “This is Kel-”

“I’m Colson.” Colson shot up and shoved his hand in your direction. ”I’m the owner.”

“Thank you guys for calling me in.” You smiled at him this time and Colson almost fell back into his chair. 

“Thank you for coming. Let’s get started, shall we?” Slim said, sitting back down and both you and Colson followed. “We were hoping this could be a collaborative effort, because we want the menu to be unique to us and have some personal touches.” Colson looked at Slim with furrowed eyebrows, he’s never met this version of Slim before.

“Yes, of course. I’ve only got some basic items on my list, I wanted to sit down with you before we get into the trial phase. If there’s anything specific you wanted on the menu, or anything specific you don’t want, we can get that out of the way now.” You pulled out a tablet as you spoke, entering the password and opening your notes.

“There’s only a few items that we really want on the menu, but the rest is up to you.” Slim nodded as you took note of his words on your tablet. “What do you have so far?”

“I’ve got some basic avocado toast, bagels, and breakfast paninis.” You explained, showing them some pictures you had saved. “I’ve been to the surrounding cafes and seen the staples, but I wanted this place to have some unique staples of its own. So I added mini bacon tacos and almond poppy seed muffins.”

Colson’s eyes lit up. “Oh my god, I love almond poppy seed muffins! I was just going to tell you to add them to the menu.”

“No way, I love them too!” You beamed at him. “They’re so underrated. Everywhere I look for them, all I find is lemon poppy seed.”

Colson didn’t know how to respond, he just couldn’t believe he made you smile. Before the silence got awkward, Slim cleared his throat. “Bacon tacos? Are those tacos with bacon?”

“No, they’re bacon taco shells. Made them mini because full sized could get expensive in the long run.” You said, showing him a picture. “I’ve seen them online, but never in cafes and never here. Could definitely bring in some customers, everyone loves bacon.”

“Yeah, for sure. I don’t think I’ve seen those around here before. There’s also some things we need to have on the menu.” Slim said, looking over at Colson.

“Yeah, we need blueberry pancakes and cheese eggs.”

“And do you have any ideas for their names on the menu.” You asked, typing away.

“The pancakes are gonna be Casie’s Weekend Special, C-A-S-I-E. With whipped cream and berries on top.” You nodded and he continued. “And Champ’s Cheesy Eggs for the eggs. Oh, and we also got these special coffee beans coming in next month for a specific cold brew. I want it to be called Cold Brew but with the C-O-L in capital letters.”

“That’s just for it’s name on the menu, right? Because I don’t do coffee stuff.” You asked for clarification.

“Yeah, yeah for sure. I’m making that myself, no need to worry about it.” Colson said.

“Okay, good. Is that it?” You asked as you typed.

“We might add some more later, but you don’t need to worry about that right now.”

“Alright, I’ll start the trial phase this week. I’ll test out the recipes and all that. When I’ve polished everything off, we can do some taste testing.”

“How long do you think you’ll take to finish?” Slim asked.

“You should get a call in about a week or two.” 

Slim smiled and nodded. “Perfect, we’re set to open in a few months.”

“I’ll have enough time to train the staff before then.”

“Great, it’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

“The pleasure’s all mine.” You pulled out two business cards and put them on the table, one in front of Slim and one in front of Colson. “This is my business card, in case you need to contact me.”

Colson could have sworn your gaze lingered on him for a second longer than it did on Slim. 

This was not a business card he was going to throw away. No way.

-

The buzzing of your phone pulled you away from your laptop. You were up all night researching and hearing the notification finally pulled you out of the rabbit hole.

It took a while to find your phone in all the blankets on your bed. But when you finally did, the notification that was on your lock screen was not something you were expecting.

Colson requested to follow you on Instagram. 

Woah. Unexpected. 

You opened your phone and accepted his request and followed him back.

- verified?

C- what can i say im a rockstar

- hahaha

- seriously tho, why?

C- u really dont know?

- nope. enlighten me

C- im a rapper

- no way! i work for a rapper now?

C- i guess you do haha

So your night that started off with researching recipes quickly turned into a night researching Machine Gun Kelly.

Song after song and interview after interview, you wondered how you spent your life not knowing of Machine Gun Kelly’s extensive career. You couldn’t say that you had never heard the name before, but this was way more than you expected.

-

Your Instagram seemed to pick up on your search history, so your explore page was only memes about your boss from the moment you googled his name.

You weren’t sure you could look him in the face the next time you saw him, something about two nines on his waist. 

(creds: @ticketstomydownfall​)

- how come you never told me your full name?

C- sorry it just never came up, i never meant to keep it from you

C- i hope you understand

- it’ll take me a while, but im hurt you didn't tell me

And so it began, every time you took a break from menu research you would send memes back and forth. You would send Colson cooking memes he wouldn’t get and he would send you musician memes you wouldn’t get. A healthy balance, you joked. 

But your favorites had to be the Machine Gun Kelly memes. 

-

A new cafe opened a few streets down from Colson’s unopened one, so he decided to check out the competition. He stood in line and read the menu. He perked up when he saw the place had poppy seed muffins in their display. It kind of worried him because he wanted them to be his cafe’s thing, but he wouldn’t mind having one right now.

“Hi! What can I get you, sir?”

“Can I get a cold brew and one of those muffins please?” Colson pointed at the basket of muffins.

“The poppy seed?” Colson nodded and the barista reached over and picked one up.

“Are those almond or lemon?”

“These are almond poppy seed muffins, they’re here for a limited time only. Don’t think we’ll have them back anytime soon.”

The barista put the muffin in a paper bag and instructed Colson to wait by the pick up area. As he waited, he pulled out his phone and sent you a picture of the muffin.

C- new place got almond! poppy seed muffins

C- for a limited time only tho, we in the clear

Ever since you started texting, you had told him not to expect any fast responses. Your sleep schedule was all over the place because you ‘work best at night’ is what you told him. The menu was coming up fast and you told Colson to expect some taste testing soon.

So when he got a response from you within seconds, he was confused. He wasn’t complaining, that’s for sure. It just wasn’t like you.

- look in the corner

He looked up and saw you in the corner looking right at him with your phone in your hands. You laughed when you made eye contact and beckoned him over. He pointed towards the barista and you nodded. 

As soon as his cold brew was in his hands, he dashed over to you. 

“Well, well, well.” Colson smirked, sitting down across from you. “I see you fixed your sleep schedule.”

“Kinda. Just for today.” You smiled. He didn’t know if you always smiled or if you always smiled around him. Colson liked to think it was the latter. “You checkin’ out the competition?”

“Yeah, so are you. What do you think of the muffins?” Colson asked.

“Mine are better.” You shrugged.

“Gotta try ‘em first before I agree.”

“In time.”

-

It had been two weeks since you saw Colson at the cafe. You ended up staying there for a few hours, time seemed to fly by with him. You gushed about the flourishing menu to him and he smiled and nodded. You knew his appreciation towards the topic wasn’t at your level, but he encouraged you to keep going. ‘I like hearing you talk’ were his exact words.

You were a blushing mess by the end of the night. Some insinuations were made and you could definitely tell that he was as into you as you were into him. And you were willing to tease the possibility.

- im not considered an assistant, am i?

C- you could be if you wanted

- i think assisting with the cafe could be considered an assisting position

C- id be inclined to agree

-

Colson needed to get away. He needed out right the fuck now.

He couldn’t bear staring at his bedroom ceiling any longer. The demons in his head were louder than ever and he needed an escape. 

Closing the door gently, he made sure not to make any loud noises so as to not wake anyone in the house. He got into his car and drove off. He had no clue where he was going, he just knew he was going.

He found himself parked in front of his cafe after a few minutes, not knowing how he got there or how he decided this was the place to escape to. He did have the keys on him. He could just head in, put together a couple of those tables that came in the other day and do something with his hands. Anything to get his mind to shut up for a little while.

The click of the keys turning in the lock sent a shiver up his spine. He made sure to lock the door behind him just in case. The thought of someone already being there never even crossed his mind.

Until he heard something from the back. The kitchen.

The kitchen was fully finished a week ago, decked with all kinds of high tech equipment. Worth a shit ton of money. Did Colson really just stumble into a robbery? Of his own fucking cafe?

He stomped over to the kitchen, fully prepared to beat someone up. 

So when he saw you dancing around in a flour covered tank top and shorts with music blasting in your headphones, he had to take a step back.

You screeched when you saw him at the door. “Holy fuck!” Colson laughed as you bent over and put a hand to your chest, taking your headphones out. “My heart just fucking dropped into my ass!”

“I thought you were a robber. I was ready to throw hands.” Colson said nonchalantly as he strode over to you.

“I thought you were going to murder me! What are you doing here? I could have sworn I locked the door.”

“You did.” Colson nodded.

“Shit, right.” You chuckled. “Owner, sorry I forgot.” You pointed at him.

“What are you doing here?”

“I asked first.” You shot back at him.

“Right, right.” He nodded and looked down. “Needed to get away. Found myself here.”

He hated the way your eyes softened at his words, he didn’t need pity or help or someone to fucking ask him if he ‘wants to talk it out’. But you didn’t say any of those things, and he really should have known. You were different.

“I told you. I work best at night. Slim gave me the key last week so I can utilize this amazing kitchen.” You motioned to the high tech equipment around you. “Muffins are almost done, actually.”

“Poppy seed?”

“Mhm, about six minutes left. But I got some pancakes right here, if you wanna try some?” You asked, picking up a plate stacked high with blueberry pancakes.

Colson nodded and took the plate out of your hands. You handed him a fork and he cut himself a bite. 

He brought it to his lips and paused, catching your hitched breath. “Don’t play with me! Just eat it!” You laughed, moving the fork into his mouth as he laughed at his stupid joke. His face was thoughtful as he chewed for a few moments. “Well?”

“It’s good.” He hummed. “Really good. But not better than Casie’s.”

“Doubt I can make it better than Casie’s when it’s her name on the menu.” You smiled. “She your girl?” 

The question slipped out before you could catch it. It was swirling around in your jealous head every time you saw the name in your notes. You weren’t exactly flirting with Colson these past few weeks, but if he had a girlfriend you would feel kind of guilty because you definitely caught feelings. 

Okay, you were definitely flirting. The whole assistant meme? For sure. And you were at least attracted to him. And with the way he has been looking at you, you knew he felt the same way.

“My daughter. It’s just me and her.” Colson smiled, knowing why you were asking and definitely not minding clearing that up for you. “She makes blueberry pancakes on the weekends for me. Best pancakes on the planet. Scratch that, in the fucking universe.”

“Aw shit, I can’t compete with that.” You chuckled. “Gotta try the best pancakes in the fucking universe some time.”

“For sure, I’ll bring her over when you finish up to try your stuff. Maybe you can take some pointers from her.”

“No offence to your daughter’s pancakes, but I think I’m good.” You chuckled. “This is my job and I’m damn good at it.”

“Alright, alright. No need to get feisty on me.” Colson laughed, putting his hands up in surrender. “My daughter’s pancakes will always be number one for me. You know how it is. She doesn’t know I’m putting her name on the menu, though.”

“Bet she’s gonna be so happy, I know I would be. I’ve always wanted my name on a menu.” 

Colson nodded and looked down at the counter that you were leaning against. Your phone, which was placed on the same counter, lit up with a notification that revealed your lock screen.

The notification wasn’t what caught Colson’s attention, the music that was playing did. “Are you- are you playing my music?”

“What?” You asked, your hand quickly darting to cover your phone. Colson laughed and pulled your hand away.

“No no no, I saw that.” He chuckled, grabbing the phone. “Loco? Not what I expected you to like, to be honest.”

You shrugged and pushed yourself away from the counter. “It’s got a good beat to whisk to.” You moved away from him and towards the oven and slipped on some mitts.

“The muffins are done? I didn’t hear a timer.”

“It’s all up here, pretty boy.” You smirked at him, tapping your finger against your temple. “If I leave them in any longer they’ll burn.” You explained, dropping the piping hot muffin tray onto the counter.

Colson’s hand slowly reached over to the tray, but you slapped it away before he could touch one. “Ay, they need to cool down! Still didn’t even finish them, man.” You huffed as you took off the oven mitts. You looked at him and saw him staring at you. “What?”

He just smiled his little cute ass smile and shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Don’t ‘nothing’ me. What is it? Do I have something on my face?” Your hand came up to wipe at your cheeks.

Colson held your wrist and pulled it away from your face. “No, you don’t have anything on your face. You just…”

“Just what?” You don’t know when you started whispering, but it felt like you had to. The moment, so fragile and intimate, you didn’t want to scare it away.

“You look really fucking cute right now.” Colson breathed out, his eyes not once leaving yours.

“You don’t just say that to a girl, Colson.”

“Who said I was just saying it?”

The moment lost its preciousness when Colson put his hand on the hot muffin tin. “Ah fuck!” He brought his hand up to his chest, cradling it.

“You’re so stupid, you know that?” You chuckled as you led him to the sink. “Come here, let me run some cold water on it.”

“Fuck me, I just ruined the moment, didn’t I?” He asked as he let you tend to his hand.

“A little, but you didn’t completely lose me.” You mused, teasing him. “I gotta put the glaze on the muffins, then you can have one.”

“There’s glaze!” He asked excitedly. “I fucking love the ones with the glaze on top.”

“I know.” You hummed, taking the bowl with the sugary glaze and spreading a little on each muffin. After you finished all of them, you went back to the first one you covered and popped it out of the tin. You held it up and brought it to Colson’s mouth. “Try it.”

He bit into and moaned almost sinfully at the flavor. That fucker knew what he was doing. 

“These are so fucking good.” Colson groaned.

“Damn right they are. You know how hard I worked on that recipe?” You exclaimed, proud the muffins came out as good as Colson made them seem to be.

“Really fuckin’ hard, I take it.” Colson replied. “Come here, you gotta taste it.”

Before you could take a bite out of the muffin, Colson put his finger under your chin and led your lips to his.

You pulled away a few seconds later, breaking the kiss. “You’re right, that tastes really fucking good.”

“You keep talking like that and I don’t think we’re gonna make it outta this place.” Colson smirked.

“The staff room’s got a couch.” 

-

(Elvgren Brunette Pin-Up Girl “Let's Eat Out”)

C- you last night

- excuse me?

C- what?

C- ur the sexy muffin girl

- how dare you?

- i would never burn my muffins

C- dude

C- im tryna flirt with you here

- well try harder

- 

Colson didn’t expect to walk into the cafe the next week with Slim and his daughter to see you wearing his shirt from that night. Casie was just excited to eat the food, so she didn’t notice. 

But Slim noticed. Colson coming home without a shirt wasn’t crazy. But you wearing said missing shirt? Yeah, he saw this coming. He smirked at Colson who tried to brush it off but his blushing cheeks betrayed him. Holy fuck, you had him blushing. What the fuck was he going to do with you?

You told them to sit tight while you brought out the plates. When you disappeared into the back, Colson mumbled something about going and helping you out.

“Nice shirt.” He smirked.

“Thanks, I got it from this guy.” You teased.

“This guy?” Colson raised his eyebrows at you as he picked up two plates.

“Yeah, tall lanky blonde dude. I don’t know if you know him, but he’s a rapper.” You smiled, expertly carrying four plates in your arms. “He’s verified on Instagram.”

Casie and Slim both watched with amused smirks on their faces as you and Colson walked out of the kitchen giggling. 

With you none the wiser, Colson mouthed ‘Shut up!’ at them. Slim snickered and Casie raised her hands up in surrender. You placed two small plates on each placemat, not aware of the conversation going on around you.

“First, we’ve got the mini bacon tacos.” You said, pointing at each plate. “The bacon shells are filled with a spinach and scrambled egg mixture with a few slices of fresh avocado.”

“Oh my god, dad! The tacos are made of bacon!” Casie exclaimed when she looked down at the plate. 

“Stop drooling and eat your food before I do.” Slim mumbled through a mouthful of bacon taco.

“Ay!” Casie shot Slim a look and used her hand as a shield against her taco. “Don’t you touch my food.”

“Then eat it!”

“I will, get off my back!”

“Hey!” Colson shouted, getting their attention. “No fighting in front of our guest!”

Slim and Casie looked up at you and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.” They apologized in unison and you fought hard to not let out a snort.

“It’s alright.” You giggled. “Do you like the tacos?”

Casie stuffed half the taco into her mouth and nodded. “Iss real goo’.”

Colson chuckled and wiped some avocado off his daughter’s face. “I think that’s the equivalent of three michelin stars.”

As everyone cleaned off their plates of all eggs and bacon, you remembered something you wanted to mention.

“Now, next are the blueberry pancakes. But before you guys dig in, Casie, I need to ask you something.” Casie perked up at your words. “Your dad told me that your pancakes are the best in the universe. And because this is his cafe, I would like it if he liked my pancakes too. So if you have any advice for me, I’m all ears.”

Casie looked between you and the pancakes for a moment. 

“I’m gonna guess that you don’t use the boxed stuff, right?” You nodded. “Alright, I’ve got one trick that I use. But you gotta promise not to tell anyone.”

You stuck out your pinky and nodded. “Pinky promise.”

“Pinky promise.” Casie looped her pinky with yours and smiled. “Y’all gotta shut your ears.” She said to Colson and Slim.

“But-”

“No buts!” She stopped Slim. “Shut your ears!” Casie watched her dad and uncle as they slowly covered their ears with their hands, confused and trying but failing to hold in their laughter.

“Alright, my trick is hazelnut milk. I use it instead of normal milk. Makes it kind of taste like Nutella, and Dad loves Nutella. And I add a teeny tiny bit of cardamom powder. The tiniest pinch. Made the recipe all by myself, so I better get credit.”

You smiled and made eye contact with her. “Trust me, you’re gonna get your credit.”

-

C- my jaw still hasn't recovered

- shouldn’t that be my line?

C- remind me to never show anyone our texts ever in life

- noted

C- are you free tomorrow?

- yeah why?

C- meet me at the cafe at noon

C- theres something i wanna show u and casie

-

You smiled when you saw Colson and Casie approaching the cafe. You had gone to the store so as to not arrive too early, but you still beat them by a few minutes.

“Hey.” Colson smiled. “You brought stuff?”

“Yeah, just a few secret ingredients.” You nodded, holding the canvas bag behind your back. “If I show you, I have to kill you.”

“Can I see?” Casie asked.

“Of course.” You scoffed and winked at her.

“Hey! How come she can see but I can’t?” Colson asked incredulously. 

You shrugged and giggled. “Why are we here, Colson?” You asked, changing the subject. 

“Something came in today.”

“The coffee beans?” You asked, hoping you’d get a taste of his COLd brew. Yes, you told him it was stupid. No, he wouldn’t budge.

“Nope, the chalkboard.” He waggled his eyebrows at you.

Your eyes lit up. “For the menu?”

“Yup.”

“Dad, can I help? Please, I wanna do the border.” Casie pleaded.

“Of course, special girl.” Colson nodded at her. “You gotta help bring it out, though.” 

“Let’s get the chalkboard!” Casie jumped up and tried to open the door.

Colson told her to hold on, the door wasn’t unlocked. He pulled out his keys and turned the lock, opening the door wide enough for Casie to run inside.

“It’s in the back.” Colson called after her.

She ran past you both to the staff room.

“She’s cute.” You chuckled once she was out of earshot.

Colson walked into the cafe with you and closed the door behind him. “Yeah, she got it from me.”

Before you had time to reply, a resounding crash came from the back.

“Casie!” You both dashed to the back to see if she got hurt.

“I’m fine!” She said once you both walked into the room. Casie was fine, but the long cardboard box she was pulling was no longer upwards but flat on the floor. “I think I broke it, though.” She winced.

Colson sighed and dragged his hand down his face. “Case…“

You smiled at Casie to calm her down. “It’s alright, as long as you’re not hurt.” You approached her and pulled her into a side hug and observed the fallen box. “Let’s see the damage out in the front, come on.”

The box was pulled out by all of you to the front where you opened it and pulled out the chalkboard. The chalkboard that was once one piece was now distinctly two pieces.

Casie sighed dejectedly. “I broke it bad.”

“No, no. This is definitely not bad.” You reassured her and looked over at Colson to back you up.

“Yeah, princess. This is not bad.” He said, not really knowing why it was great but only playing along with you as to not make his baby girl feel bad. “Why is this not bad?”

You laughed and kneeled down to fully pull out the two broken pieces out of the box. “We can make it look intentional. See, the crack is going diagonally down the middle. You can do the border around each piece. It would look really cool.”

“That would actually look really dope.” Colson said as he finally understood what you were getting at. “None of the other places have anything like this.”

“See? Told you.” You nodded. “What would you do without me, huh?”

“I have no clue.” Colson mumbled as he knelt down to sit next to you. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to hear it, but you sure did. “Alright, y’all can do the border. Leave the rest to me.”

“You sure?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at Colson. “It’s gonna take you a while.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. You have everything written down somewhere?”

You nodded and pulled out your phone from your pocket. You opened up your notes app and handed it to him. “This is my latest draft for the final menu. Do with it what you wish.”

And so you got to work. Every time you tried to peek at what Colson was writing, he’d push you away and say it was a surprise. So you stuck to what he assigned you. The border took you and Casie no time, even after adding some doodles here and there and signing the bottom right corner.

“Dad?” Casie perked up.

“Yeah?” Colson asked, still focused on his penmanship.

“You good to finish it up?”

“Yeah, why?”

“y/n and I need to go to the kitchen.”

“You do?”

“We do?”

“Yes.” Casie nodded at you. “We do.” 

“Oh!” You smiled, remembering the bag you had brought with you. “We do!”

“Mhm.” Casie smiled sweetly at her dad and hopped up and headed towards the kitchen. “Come on, y/n! No time to waste.”

You giggled at her antics and shrugged at Colson. “No time to waste, I guess.” You grabbed your bag full of ingredients and followed the little sassy child to the kitchen.

You placed the bag on the counter and smiled at her. “So, how many do you wanna make?”

“Not many.” She shrugged as she helped you take out the ingredients. “Just a few to try out the recipe.”

“Good idea.” You nodded. “I changed my original recipe a little bit, added your suggestions and a few more things. That cardamom powder is a great addition, by the way.”

“Thanks!” Casie beamed. “So you’re a chef, huh?”

“Not exactly.” You mused as you pulled out the bowls and measuring equipment. “If we had to get technical, I guess my job is a menu curator. I help people make menus for their cafes or restaurants.”

“But dad said you make really good food.” Casie pointed out as she measured some dry ingredients into a large bowl. “Did you learn it by yourself or did you go to school for it?”

“A little bit of both.” You paused to help her not spill the flour and continued. “I’ve been to a few culinary schools, but only the ones that you attend for a few months. But I’ve always loved cooking.”

“So this must be your dream job, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess it is. You wanna crack the eggs?” You asked and handed her the eggs when she nodded. “What’s your dream job?”

“I’m not really sure, I’m only eleven.” She shrugged and threw out the egg shells. “But I really like the music industry. So probably something in that. Maybe a producer or something. I’ve helped out Uncle Slim on some of my dad’s stuff and it was fun.”

“No way! That’s really cool. I know nothing about the music industry, if I’m being honest.” You confessed.

“Did you know about Dad’s music?” She asked. You paused for a moment, knowing this was coming. Casie wasn’t stupid, she knew something was going on between you and her dad. She wanted to make sure you were right for him. And she was definitely not going to beat around the bush to find out.

“Not when I first met him. But he followed me on Instagram and I asked why he was verified and he told me.” You said.

“Oh.” Casie said, pausing to think of what to say next. “Okay.”

You looked at her and furrowed your eyebrows. “Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.” She nodded as she poured out the hazelnut milk into a measuring cup. “I like you, y/n. And I know my dad likes you, too. If he didn’t think you were a good person, then I wouldn’t even be here.”

Pushing the bowl closer to her so the milk wouldn’t go on the counter, you stayed silent so she could continue. “And I know you were wearing his shirt the other day, which means my dad really likes you. But you gotta know that being with my dad comes with stuff not everyone likes. I know you like me, which is obvious because I’m amazing.”

“Yes, of course.” You nodded semi-seriously, giggling with her.

“But there’s also his music and the whole public thing, which gets weird sometimes.” Casie’s eyebrows rose as she spoke, indicating that she’s seen enough to know what she was talking about. “They say things and they lie and they might drag your name through the mud. But some people forget that the things they say only last for a news cycle.”

“You are wise beyond your years, Ms. Casie Baker.” You pointed at her. “I think meeting you has been the best part of working for your dad.”

-

A week later, Colson called you back to meet at the cafe. After making the pancakes with Casie, Colson refused to show you the menu. He insisted it still needed more work and that neither of you could see it until it was properly set up behind the front counter.

Both you and Casie moaned and groaned, telling him a little peak wouldn’t hurt. But he held his ground.

Walking up to the cafe, you saw that Colson and Casie beat you this time around. Colson was sitting down as Casie jumped around him, begging him to remove the white sheet hiding the chalkboard on the wall.

“Hey guys.” You said as you opened the door.

“y/n!” Casie called, running up to you. “Thank god you’re finally here! He made me wait this whole time.”

You looked up at Colson who was shaking his head. “We’ve been here for eight minutes.” He chuckled.

“That’s a whole four hundred and eighty seconds!” 

“Ay, that was some nice quick math!” Colson cheered and held his hand up for a high five. 

Casie slapped his hand and walked over to the menu. “Alright, she’s here. Can we please see the menu now?” She pleaded.

Colson sighed and nodded. He positioned you and Casie to stand in front of the board and placed your hands on your eyes. 

“On three, open your eyes.” Colson instructed as he held onto the white fabric. “One, two…”

You and Casie waited for him to continue only to hear him snickering. “Dad!”

“Alright, alright.” You heard the fabric fall to the floor. “Three!”

You gasped when you finally laid eyes on the long awaited finished menu. Colson somehow made all you and Casie’s little doodles crisper and more vivid. The border around both the pieces had some additional patterns here and there, obviously courtesy of Colson. Your eyes scanned the names of the menu items quickly, most of them already known to you from your notes.

“Casie’s Weekend Special?” Casie asked after a moment of silence, looking up at her dad. “No way! Are those the pancakes?”

“Yeah, you like it?” Colson smiled.

She giggled and jumped up to hug Colson. “I love it!”

“I told you you’d get your credit.” You smirked at her.

She climbed off her dad and gasped. “You knew?”

You nodded and she attacked you with a hug too. You laughed as you almost toppled over from the sudden embrace.

You continued reading the menu when Casie climbed off of you. You chuckled at the ‘Bomb A$$ Bacon Tacos’ and at the ‘COLd Brew’. You smiled when you read ‘y/n’s ALMOND poppy seed muffins’.

Wait what.

“Colson…”

“You said you’ve always wanted your name on a menu. Besides, it’s your recipe.” Colson stumbled back as you attacked him in a hug this time.

You sighed against the skin of his neck and whispered a soft ‘thank you’. You pulled back and stood there for a bit, just looking at his piercing blue eyes. How can someone’s eyes be so blue?

“Oh my god! Just kiss her already!” Casie exclaimed.

“Woah! Where did that come from, little lady?” Colson turned to look at Casie without letting you go.

“You guys are making major goo goo eyes at each other. Just kiss! I’ll cover my eyes, don’t worry.” She said, placing her hand over her eyes.

“I mean, she’s kinda-”

You cut him off by placing your lips against his. Casie giggled as she peeked between her fingers. Colson furrowed his eyebrows and groaned his disapproval into the kiss, waving his free arm at his daughter. 

You giggled against Colson’s lips and pulled his waving arm back. You pulled away and reached out one arm around Casie and dragged her into the embrace. “Your dad is a real romantic, Casie.”

“Thanks, I taught him well.”

“Yeah, you really did.”