#scratch-made sweet bread

[twiceastasty]

Zucchini Bread with Sesame Seeds

Zucchini bread is so adaptable. Any ingredients that you don’t have at hand can be replaced by other types of flour, sweetener, and add-ins. Learn to make Zucchini Bread with Sesame Seeds.

When zucchini plants are putting out fresh squash every day that seem to double in size if you leave them on the vine just one more night, it’s time to make the quick bread recipe I share this week in my Twice as Tasty column for the Flathead Beacon. Almost every cook seems to have a favored recipe for zucchini bread, partly because the bread is so adaptable. I base mine on a quick bread ratio…

[homunculus-argument]

A sweet slice of life series about some former byronic anti-hero who just managed to finally complete their all-consuming revenge quest, and is now just sitting there like "ok, now what." When you've spent seven years of your life training to fight, just to kill this one guy, and then worked ever since to infiltrate an organisation to raise in its ranks for the sole goal of getting close enough to the target to kill them, and the moment is finally over and everything you've worked for is finally complete, and you didn't die trying like you gambled that you might, there's still life left.

And it's all about this former warrior hero just awkwardly gingerly trying to learn how to build a normal life. There isn't one to go back to, the villain whose end they dedicated their life to killed the protagonist's family and burned down their village, they've got to start from scratch now. And the audience learns about their past life through the way they suddenly remember how things used to be, and how long it's been since they've last done something ordinary.

Frequently making observations like "damn, I shouldn't have made a deal with that entity to trade their ability to always know someone's greatest weakness, in exchange of my memory of how to bake bread", or discovering that their cursed weapon of Kill Everything You Touch can also be used to sanitise jam jars.

[nikkento-writes]

Nanami is slowly sipping on his coffee at the dining table when you return home with the coveted box in your hands. You offered to pick up breakfast earlier this morning, promising to grab something extra special today, which you did. With a satisfied grin on your face, you display the box in front of him, waiting for his response. He glances at it, narrowing his eyes as if he’s trying to figure out what exactly he’s looking at. When he realizes what it is, his shoulders slump, giving you a disapproving look. “You didn’t.” 

You continue to smile at him. “I did.”

It’s a simple design of crudely doodled croissants with the words Petite Céréale scrawled across it. You heard about this online. Each piece is handmade the morning of, baked and buttered to perfection. Then, they’re dipped in a simple syrup, coated with cinnamon sugar, and lastly dehydrated. Because of this arduous process, it’s understandably the most expensive cereal in the world. And when you heard your local bakery would be making their own version of it, you knew you had to be one of the first to get your hands on it.

“How much?” His tone wavers on serious and amused, disappointed you’d give in to these silly viral food trends but simultaneously impressed by your tenacity to actually go through with it. 

You ignore his question, pointing at the box like one of those game show hosts presenting the grand prize. “Mini croissant cereal,” you say, hoping he’ll drop it. 

“Honey.”

“Mini. Croissant. Cereal,” you repeat with emphasis, beaming at him. “Just try it, Kento. If you absolutely hate it, then you can scold me later. But I have a feeling you’ll like this one.”

He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “I doubt it.” You can tell he’s remembering the last viral food you made him try, a ridiculously priced chocolate bar famous from Dubai. While it was good, he couldn’t justify the price you spent on them. For some reason, though, you’re confident in this one. 

You scoff at his pretend grumpy attitude as you rummage through your kitchen to retrieve a bowl, cold milk, and two spoons, one for you and one for him. Ready and excited, you sit next to him, opening the box carefully. His lips twitch, hiding a grin as he watches you, oohing and aahing over the outrageously expensive cereal. But even he can admit that the tiny golden croissants are impressive as you pull them out of the box. He lets out a soft, “Wow,” as your eyes sparkle, marveling at the miniature pastries. 

When you open the packaging, the overwhelming aroma of freshly baked bread and butter instantly fills your nostrils. As you pour a decent amount into the bowl, the crisp of the dough taps against the ceramic, making a delightful sound. You both look down at it, inspecting it thoroughly for any imperfections; there’s none. 

Nanami does the honors and splashes milk over it, making sure not to put too much to prevent it from getting soggy. Together, you dig in, doing a cute little cheers before taking a bite. 

It’s heavenly, like nothing you’ve ever had before, especially from a cardboard cereal box. It has the perfect texture; crispy on the outsides, but as soon as you bite in, it’s flaky and crumbly, like how a flawless croissant should be. Even with the sugar coating, it’s not too sweet. And paired with the milk, it’s the perfect combination. Absolutely divine.  

You’re enjoying the moment too much before you finally realize how unusually quiet Nanami is being. By this time, he’d click his tongue at you and tell you how he doesn’t like it or how it isn’t worth the money. But to your delight and surprise, there’s a very special expression on his face: bliss. 

You wait until he finishes chewing to nudge him softly, “Well?”

He breaks out of his reverie to clear a pretend scratch in his throat. Unconvincingly, he replies, “It’s okay.”

You smile, satisfied with his response, eating the rest of the croissant cereal together in peace. 

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 27 || The Sweet Moments (PT. 2)

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, a tinge of angst, & lots of fluff.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5.7k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——AFTER THE EVENTS OF WHAT took place in Toji's car, he gave you the option of either sleeping in the guest bedroom of his home or his bedroom. You chose the first option and he was sure to warn you that his son would probably return home sometime that morning so you'd have to stay hidden in there during that time.

You agreed to that and when you got into his home, Toji had given you a spare shirt of his to sleep in. The night went on perfectly fine and he even gave you medicine for your throat before he went to bed, something you gratefully took since you could feel the slight upcoming scratch in your esophagus.

The following morning, you woke up to dim sunlight resting upon the side of your face, making you groan a little before you turned over. You could hear talking coming from somewhere outside the bedroom you lay in.

There were two voices, one obviously Toji's and the other sounding like a smaller and younger person. After laying there for a few minutes trying to listen and wake yourself up at the same time, you eventually got up and decided to be nosy.

The talking you heard slowly transformed into bickering as you neared the shut bedroom door, pressing your ear against it lightly and listening in on the conversation taking place down the hall and in the nearby kitchen.

"Please no," A child's voice was heard.

The sound of a scoff hit your ears, "What do you mean please no??" Toji replied, "I make the best sandwiches..."

"Dad, every grilled cheese you've ever made has been burnt." His son replied, "And every time you make me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich... you put like three pounds of peanut butter on it."

"You said you liked peanut butter," Toji argued back with a shrug.

"Not that much." The child grumbled, "And even the regular sandwiches you make always have too much of something..."

Toji frowned, "No one told you to be so damn picky... If you want it done right maybe you should come in here and do it your damn self."

You can hear the kid laugh at his father with footsteps following behind the sound. The footsteps get closer to the bedroom you're in and you hear his voice just outside it, "You're the one who keeps trying to make them in the first place. I never asked you to."

"Then why do you keep eatin' them?" Toji shouts to the boy as he furthers away from him.

"I gotta' eat something... even if it tastes like shit..." You hear the child curse, just under his breath as he passes your door.

Toji raises a brow, "I know I didn't just hear you curse."

"Can you even hear anything, old man...?" His kid fires back, the sound of his footsteps heard entering a room just down the hall from you-- most likely his bedroom.

"Oi, don't make me come back there!" Toji shouts.

"And do what?" The boy mutters sassily, "Force me to eat another dry chicken sandwich with no water like you did last week?"

There's a second of silence and you try not to laugh at their bickering. Toji sounds a bit annoyed now, "You said you didn't want anything to drink.."

"I wasn't expecting to choke on fourteen pounds of chicken and two slices of bread that were the same size as my laptop..." The kid explains overdramatically.

Toji scoffs, "Whatever, hurry up and get ready before you're late."

"Like you'd care..." You hear the kid say very quietly to himself.

"What was that?" Toji calls out.

There's a moment of quietness and you hear his kid playfully respond, "I knew you were going deaf." He says before shutting his bedroom door.

You move to open yours at the sound and peek out, seeing that it is in fact the child's bedroom that he just disappeared into. Toji scoffs within his kitchen and you take a moment to slip out of the bedroom you're in and join him there.

When he spots you emerging from around the corner, he raises a brow. For starters, he's wearing a t-shirt that hugs his torso, revealing that insane physique of his. You gawk at it slightly as you make your way over to him, walking around the counter and approaching his side to see what he's doing.

"Sounds like you need help out here," You whisper to him teasingly.

Toji smiles slightly at your words, realizing that you've heard just about everything. "Kid doesn't like anything I make."

You tilt your head as you stare at the sandwich he's currently making. It looks like it's supposed to be peanut butter and jelly but it's definitely coming out as more jelly with a hint of peanut butter. A hand comes up over your mouth as you try not to laugh at it.

Toji looks to his side and down at you with a frown, "I know you're not laughing right now."

"Mr. Fushiguro..." You snicker, "He's never gonna like anything you make if you do it like that."

"How the hell am I supposed to do it then?" Toji grumbles.

Both of your voices are quiet enough so that his kid couldn't hear anything.

"Watch and learn," You hum before moving to make the sandwich in a way you think anyone would enjoy.

Toji moves to the side a bit as you create an entirely new sandwich, leaving the one he was working on idle. He watches as you spread peanut butter across two slices of bread and then put an even amount of jelly in the middle, bringing the two slices of bread together and then cutting it in half diagonally.

"Aaand done," You say cheerfully, turning to look at the man beside you to see his eyes wide. You chuckle, "What?"

Toji blinks, "He's not gonna eat that."

"Wanna bet?"

"Sure," Toji replies confidently, moving to finish the sandwich he'd been making previously, "He's gonna hate both of them. Kid' hates everything."

"I'm not sure that's true," You hum, watching as Toji proceeds to make his version of the sandwich.

"You'll see." He replies, "Now, go back in the room before he comes out here."

You sigh, "Fiiine." Then, as you walk away, you turn back with a curious brow raised, "What's his name?"

Toji shrugs, "Don't remember."

You blink, spotting a world's best dad mug on the nearby counter, "You're joking right...?"

Toji chuckles and looks up and at you, "His name's Megumi."

You nod and smile before dipping back around the corner and into the room you'd previously been in. You make sure to quietly shut the door behind you and then patiently wait to hear Megumi emerge from his room.

After about five more minutes, you hear his door open and footsteps rush past the room you're in. Megumi is heard in the kitchen taking a seat at one of the barstools.

"Here," Toji sighs, "Try these two before you go and tell me which one is better."

Megumi's face scrunches up, "If you made them, then they both probably taste like shi-"

"Just eat the damn sandwich." Toji cuts him off, frowning at his son in an annoyed manner.

With a roll of his eyes, Megumi goes for the one Toji made first, taking a single bite and dramatically making a disgusted face in reaction. "Daaad, there's like two whole jars of jelly on thiiiiis," He whines.

Toji's expression remains blank, "Yeah yeah, now eat the other one."

"I'm scared..." Megumi mumbles with a pout as he moves for the second sandwich. Toji leans over the counter and watches his son take one bite and then raise his brows. "You made this?" Megumi questions.

"Yep," Toji lies, now frowning at the fact that there's a noticeable difference in his son's reaction to his sandwich versus yours.

"Bullshi-"

"Megumi if you curse one more time, I'm throwin' you out that window over there," Toji cuts off sarcastically.

Megumi sighs, nearly chuckling at his father's dramatic threat, "But you curse all the time."

"I'm a grown-ass man."

"See?" The kid scoffs before moving out of his seat and grabbing the second sandwich he tasted. He then moves to shove the rest of it into a ziplock bag and then drops it into his bookbag, leaving the sandwich his father made on the counter. "Anyways, thanks for not making this one too bad."

"Oh, so you like the sandwiches like that?" Toji asks.

"Yeah, it's even. Not too much peanut butter or jelly. Make all of them like that please." Megumi requests as he moves to grab his shoes.

Toji watches his son near the front door of their home, "I'll try."

His kid nods his head in response before opening the door and making sure his bookbag is on properly, "Thanks. Bye Dad."

"Mhm, cya." Toji hums in response while moving to clean the mess made in the kitchen.

You hear the front door shut and then wait a few minutes before emerging from the bedroom yet again. When you get to the kitchen, you notice the sandwich you made is completely gone and Toji's is still sitting in the same place. Then, you see the older man straightening his kitchen up.

"What was that you said about him hating both sandwiches?" You ask tauntingly as you cross your arms.

Toji sends you a look, "Shut up."

You chuckle, "He seems like a good kid," You say to change the subject.

"He's alright," Toji grumbles while snatching up his abandoned sandwich from the counter. "If he keeps fuckin' with me I'm gonna sell him," He says sarcastically.

Your eyes go wide, "Sell him?!"

He shrugs, "He'd go for a lot of money too, I bet."

"Mr. Fushiguro that's your son." You say, emphasizing your words.

Toji starts laughing, "I know, I know. I just kiddin'."

"Uhuh..." You hum, nodding and smiling at him.

You end up helping him straighten up his kitchen a bit and afterward, he offers to drive you home. You didn't want to run the possibility of Shoko or anyone else you know seeing Toji drop you off so instead, you told him you'd call a friend to come get you.

With a shrug, Toji said okay and then he went off to prepare himself for his day. You ended up putting your dress back on and leaving the shirt he gave you neatly folded up on the bed you slept on.

After which, you give Toji one last bye before heading outside. It was decently early in the morning and the chilly fall breeze was brushing up against your exposed skin as you walked down the street a bit. You didn't want to call your 'friend' (Gojo) to come pick you up from right outside Toji's house so you made sure to distance yourself a bit.

Luckily for you, there was a bench just down the street that you found yourself sitting at. The phone call you made to Gojo was relatively short and how quickly he got to where you were surprised you.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"Did you fuck Mr. Fushiguro again?" Was Gojo's first question to you as soon as you got into his car and buckled yourself in.

You release a sigh before responding. "Yep. That's another six thousand if I'm not mistaken," You claim, turning your head to look at him with an innocent little smile on your face.

He blinks, "You're lucky I love you, y'know that right?"

There's a pulse felt within your heart. Just when is he going to stop saying that? "Am I?" You ask.

Gojo scoffs, "Yeah, do you even know how much money I've given you so far?"

You shrug casually, "Am I supposed to be keeping track?"

"I mean you don't have to but I'm surprised you don't," Gojo hums, smiling a little, "You're like a spoiled princess now..."

"I'm not sure princesses get paid to fuck hot guys," You utter before looking away from him and his stupid smile that makes your heart rate increase. "And wait, how did you know I slept with Mr. Fushiguro again?"

"Uhm, he lives down this street. I babysat his kid and I know where they live, remember?" Gojo explains.

"Oh... Wait, speaking of that... Satoru," You turn your head to him and you see light pink decorating his cheeks at the mere sound of his first name leaving your lips. He looks like an idiot in love and you think you hate every second of it, "What do you owe everyone on the list? Why are you in debt?"

His eyes widen and Gojo swallows hard, quickly snatching his gaze off of you and moving his hands to the steering wheel in front of him so that he can start driving. "Does it matter?" He asks you, his brows furrowing.

"I mean, I'm just curious." You say flatly, "How do you even come up with the gift of a whore being your form of payment? And again, what do you owe-"

"Did you just call yourself a whore?" Gojo cuts off.

"Yeah, it's not the first time-"

"Stop that." He says, making a left down the next street, "You're not just some whore, okay?"

"Ohhh so I'm a special whore? Got it." You utter sarcastically.

"I'm serious, don't call yourself a whore. That's not what you are." He says sternly.

"Fine, a slut then." You argue, shrugging a little, "Either way, I'm still spreading my legs for a bunch of guys."

"First off, sluts don't get paid to sleep around, you do." Gojo clarifies, "Secondly, I'm forcing you to do these things so in a sense, you're not a whore."

"But... I am." You argue anyway, "That's what you're using me for so that's what I've become."

"You don't have to claim that, it's degrading your character."

You scoff, "And since when do you care about me degrading my character, Satoru? It's the fucking truth. I fuck people and get paid, know what that means?" You utter sarcastically and slightly bothered, "I'm a whore."

Gojo slams on the brakes and stops the car at a stop sign, turning to you with anger written all over his face, "You're not a whore! Stop fucking saying that." He shouts.

That was his first time ever yelling at you.

A moment of silence fills the air followed by his harsh tone. Hell, you don't even think you've ever seen Gojo so upset over something before. It was weird to see him like this. All the aggravation in his tone and in his expression over a word that's been loosely used plenty of times before?

Your eyes narrow at him, in no world would you let Gojo yell at you and just sit there and take it. "The hell are you so upset for? You've called me a whore yourself-"

"No, I haven't." He interrupts, "Never in my life have I referred to you as a whore."

Your face scrunches up, "Uhm, yes you have? After the first time I slept with Mr. Fushiguro and you saw Choso had taken me home, you called me a whore because you thought I slept with three guys in one day." You recall flawlessly.

Not flawlessly enough though, "No, sweetheart. I asked if you were becoming a whore. I implied it but I never flat-out called you that shit."

"Implying it is practically calling me it, dumbass."

"It's not. If I imply the fact that someone's a bitch, does that make them a bitch?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Exactly. And when I asked if you were becoming a whore it was because I was pissed, not that my emotions make up for it but still." Gojo rambles. He's so passionately aggressive about this topic for some odd reason, "Plus, I don't know if you forgot but I literally told you I never agreed on you becoming a whore."

"I didn't forget but did you forget what I responded to that with?" You ask, annoyed by this conversation. "I asked you if that's what I've been from the start."

"Okay, and-"

"And your response to me was maybe." You finish.

He nods his head and then smiles a bit, still appearing angered, "Then I said the list was different because it was supposed to be you fucking someone once and getting paid, not multiple times."

"Okay, well it's not me fucking someone once. Get over it and pay me like you promised to." You respond simply.

"You don't have to ever worry about me not paying you, sweets. That's not what this conversation was about to begin with." Gojo replies, "I just don't want you to think or feel like you're a whore because you're not."

"That's what I feel like though. I fuck then get paid." You say blatantly, shrugging. "I don't understand how else I'm supposed to feel."

"Lessen the number of times you fuck people and maybe you won't feel like that." He suggests.

That set's you off just right, an annoyed smirk pulling at your lips, "Well, sorry that last night Sukuna left me horny and I happened to run into Mr. Fushiguro at the right time." You say sarcastically.

Gojo opens his mouth to reply but he's cut off by you.

"Sorry that I wanted to have sex last night. Sorry that I got into your car and reminded you that you have to pay me for it because it's what you agreed on." You go off, "Oh, and sorry that these actions of mine all stem from you and this stupid fucking list!"

For a moment, Gojo's quiet. He simply stares at you, the car having yet to move since he stopped it. With perfect timing, a car pulls up behind the two of you. Gojo looks away from you and moves to park the car somewhere.

After that, he sighs and rests his head back, "So you're blaming this on me?"

"Who the fuck else am I supposed to blame?" You snap instantly, having not cooled off at all, "I didn't record myself and threaten me with it. I don't owe a whore to a bunch of people. And I didn't start this damn list."

"Right." He nods, "But you left your door wide open-"

"So that gave you the right to come in and record me?" You fire back.

Gojo scoffs, feeling pissed. "Told' you that was an accident."

"As if I fucking believe that."

"Okay well, you're still the one doing extra shit that has nothing to do with the list-"

"Y'know, I didn't hear you complain this much last week when I slept with you." You cut off, "Funny how you only find this much to bitch about when I'm fucking anyone that's not you more than once."

"First off, I'm not bitching about anything." Gojo clarifies. He's upset with you for the first time and it's unusual to see and experience, "I'm being serious with you right now. You complained about feeling like a whore even though I'm trying to tell you that's not what you are, then, your argument to that is the list? The things that are making you feel like a whore are the things you're bringing on yourself."

Your face scrunches up, "What-"

"I never told you to fuck Suguru more than once. Nobody told you that you had to fuck Mr. Fushiguro twice, and god knows how many times you and Choso had sex." Gojo expresses, "If you feel like a whore, that's not because of me-"

"I wouldn't have slept with any of those people in the first place if it wasn't for you." You remind him for what feels like the millionth time, "Did you forget that?"

"No, I know. But even though it's because of me, you wouldn't have felt like a whore if you only slept with them once like you were supposed to."

"Right," You smile and scoff, "Sure."

"And even if you did feel like one," Gojo slowly turns his head to look at you, his eyes dead serious, "I'd tell you a thousand times over again; you are not a whore."

"Well," You purse your lips together, "I'm turning into one and nothing you say will make me feel like I'm not-"

Gojo interrupts you by saying your name. You think your entire body freezes at the sound. It's always been sweetheart or sweets or love or any affectionate nickname. The last time you heard Gojo say your first name was the day the list started.

You try to continue anyway, "Like I-I'm not a-"

He utters your name yet again, those blue eyes of his drilling into the side of your face.

"N-No, let me finish," You say, your voice softening unintentionally, "There's nothing you can say to make me feel like I'm not a wh-"

First and last, your full name leaves his lips in a low tone.

You grit your teeth and finally shut up.

"Look at me," Gojo orders. You don't and he scoffs. Gojo tips his head to the side a bit and narrows his eyes, "Fucking look at me." He repeats, no malice heard in his tone.

With a roll of your eyes and a huff, you turn to him, "What?"

"You're not a whore." He says, his tone going completely soft, "If you want someone to demean like that, demean me, not yourself."

You blink, not knowing what to say to him anymore.

"But please," Gojo's gaze goes gentle, his face twisting up in sorrow, "Don't call yourself a whore."

"Satoru." You say, voice completely calm, "I-"

For one last time, Gojo cuts you off by voicing your name in a gentle tone. "You are not a whore." He whispers.

You swallow down whatever arguments you had to that. You have no idea what it was about his tone and the look in his eyes but suddenly, you felt that need to argue with him lifted.

"Okay," You whisper in response.

"Say it," Gojo instructs.

With another swallow, "I'm not a whore." You tell him.

A small smile spreads across his face, "Thank you." He utters.

It was weird. Is this the same man who blackmails you? He's whoring you out and yet doesn't want you to refer to yourself as such? Why? What's so significant about that word that you can't call yourself that?

"And uh," Gojo looks away from you, "I'm sorry for yelling at you..."

He mimics that of a sad puppy in a way. His look is almost... cute?

You decide to look away from him as well, "It's fine."

"Are you sure?" He asks timidly as if he regrets blowing up on you so suddenly.

You shrug, "Not really. I don't understand why the hell you got so mad in the first place..."

"I just..." Gojo trails off a little as he stares out the window in front of him, losing himself in thought for a minute. "I don't like hearing you talk about yourself like that. That's why I said if you're looking for someone to demean, demean me. If you're angry or frustrated with your situation," He glances over to you, "Take it out on me."

You blink, "So you just want me to beat up on you whenever I'm mad?"

"If it'll stop you from calling yourself any degrading names then, yes." Gojo expresses to you.

"This is..." You hesitate on your next words but eventually glance at him and continue, "This is oddly sweet of you?"

His eyes meet yours for only a moment before he looks away, "I wish I could be sweet to you all the time."

"You're sweet when you say I love you..." You tell him honestly, quickly adding on an, "I guess..." So that you don't praise him too much.

Gojo perks up and looks over at you, "I am?"

You look in the opposite direction, "I think anyone would be but, yes, you are."

He smiles, "I l-"

"Don't." You cut off, already knowing he was about to utter those three words to you.

He chuckles, "Sorry."

"Anyways, uhm... Don't I have to meet Nanami tonight?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Gojo remembers, moving to comfort himself in his seat since he has no plans on driving until your conversation is completely over. He rests his head on the palm of his hand, holding himself up against the console in between you two. "So remember when I told you he goes to this bar every Friday night?"

"Mhm." You hum in response.

"Well, I did some more research on it and it's more of this fancy nightclub."

A little scoff leaves you and you glance at Gojo, "Nanami goes to a fancy nightclub every Friday night?"

"Okay, it's like seventy-five percent bar and twenty-five percent club." He explains further.

You narrow your eyes at him, "So what are you saying all this for...?"

"For starters, there's a dress code," Gojo says.

"Ohhh, so it's a fancy fancy nightclub." You reply playfully.

He smiles, "Yeah, you'll have to dress pretty classy to get in."

"Okay and if I had to guess," Your head turns to face him completely, "You already bought me a dress for this?"

"Fifteen different ones actually," Gojo corrects.

"F-Fifteen? How much did you spend?!"

He shrugs, "They weren't expensive..."

"The last dress you told me wasn't expensive was almost a thousand dollars..." You state blankly.

"Oh," His eyebrows raise, "Is that considered expensive?"

You scoff in surprise, "Seriously, where the fuck are you getting this money from?"

"Onlyfans," He says with a wink.

"Genuinely can't tell if you're joking or not right now..." You reply, smiling and yet shaking your head at him.

Gojo chuckles at your reaction, "I'm joking, don't worry."

"So where's the money come from?"

"Well, I am popular online and I get paid a lot from that I guess."

You raise a brow, "What exactly do you do online again...?"

"Uhhh..." He trails off, his eyes wandering away from yours.

You chuckle at the way he avoids your eyes, "...You post thirst traps, don't you?"

"N-No..." Gojo mumbles.

You begin to move for your phone, shrugging casually, "I'm gonna check."

Gojo's eyes snap back onto you and they go wide in worry, "Oh my god, please don't."

"Why are you so worried?" You laugh, "I thought you'd be all cocky about this kinda' thing."

He pouts, "Why would I be cocky about you seeing the content I put out..."

"I mean anything online is nothing I haven't seen before." You point out simply, knowing that no amount of thirst traps will compare to literally having sex with the man.

"I..." Gojo swallows hard, "Listen it's not the kind of thirst traps you're thinking of..."

You pause the movement of your fingers and look at him, raising a brow, "So, what, you're not half-naked with red LED lights in the background?"

"Not really." He hums.

"Oh..." You frown dramatically, "Booooringgg."

Gojo chuckles at you before deciding to give you a hint about what he puts out, "If you had to pick one feature about me that you think girls would be into, what would it be?"

"Uhm..." You stare at him for a moment, "Why are you asking me this as if you're literally not Gojo Satoru?"

"What's that got to do with anything?" He blinks.

"You're the walking definition of sex appeal."

His brows raise at your words, "Am I?"

"Human embodiment of sexy." You continue to thoughtlessly compliment.

"Oh really?" Gojo smirks, "Keep going..."

"You're-," You suddenly stop yourself and narrow your eyes at him "Y'know what, I think you get it by now."

"Mhm..." He hums, having enjoyed hearing you compliment him, "Now, tell me just one feature you think girls find overly attractive."

"Just one? There's so many though."

"C'mon, just one."

You shrug, "Your eyes."

He blinks, a noticeable shade of blush spreading across his cheeks immediately in reaction to your words. Gojo is oddly adorable when receiving compliments from you, almost as if he's not used to it.

He bats his eyelashes at you, "My eyes?"

"You literally have blue eyes and white eyelashes," You say flatly, "Why are you acting like you don't get that all the time?"

"I mean it's different coming from you."

"How?"

"That means that's the first thing you notice about me..." He murmurs quietly, nearly missing your ears, "But, no that's not it. Now name something else you think is attractive."

Your eyes search the man for a moment, gazing at his clear skin, pretty face, gorgeous hair, sharp jawline, remembering his abs, thinking about his arms and how they feel, and then finding yourself staring at his hands.

You blink, "Your ha..." You cut yourself off, not wanting to give away the genuine attraction you have for his hands. "Your abs-"

Gojo cuts you off, having heard what you were about to say, "You had the first one right."

"Your hands?!" You gasp.

He smiles, "Why do you sound surprised as if you don't like them yourself-"

"Wait, oh my god, so that means you do hand and finger thirst traps?!" You say with a slightly dropped jaw.

Gojo looks away from you, "On one of my pages, yes. Though, I still don't get the appeal-"

"Gojo your hands are literally perfect." You interrupt.

His ears redden but he looks at you again, moving to put his hand out, "What about them are perfect?"

You inspect the part of his body in question, moving to drag a finger along his skin, "The veins... the length... how soft they are..." You slowly get carried away as you feel them, "...how warm... how deep inside me they reach..."

"Woah," Gojo can't help but flash a toothy smile, "I don't think any of my fans can feel that last one sweetheart-"

"That makes it better for some reason, honestly." You shrug.

"Yeah?" He bites his bottom lip a little, "Y'like knowing that you're the only one who gets to have my fingers deep inside your pu-"

"Stop." You cut off, your face flushing as you look away from him.

He leans just a bit closer to you, "So you can say it but I can't?"

"Your version was going to be far more explicit." You hum, avoiding those teasing looks of his.

"So? It's true." Gojo replies, watching as you feel his hand, "You are the only girl that I've ever fingered after all..."

Your movements come to a stop and you look at him, "Wait what?"

"Hm?" Gojo hums, shifting his hand to hold yours suddenly.

You wanted to stop the gesture but you didn't, "What do you mean I'm the only girl you've ever fingered...?"

His shoulders rise into a shrug and his eyes remain on how small your hand is in his, "Never felt like fingering a girl before you."

"Then how..." You trail off as you recall that moment with him before shaking your head, "Nevermi-"

"How did I know how to do it so well?" He finishes for you.

"I mean... yeah..."

"For starters," Gojo spreads his hand out, having your palm rest over his and comparing the size difference, "I have long fingers so naturally I reach deeper inside you."

"Okay..." You murmur.

"And everything else I just figured out as I did it." He says cheekily, flicking his gaze up to your face, "Didn't expect you to cum from that alone though-"

"Okay okay," Your face flushes a deep shade, "We don't have to talk about it anymore..."

"Aw, why?" He coos, teasing you, "I like remembering that time. Y'know, thinking about how tight your pussy felt around my fingers-"

"Jesus Satoru," Your eyes widened at his lewd words, "Stop it."

"How warm and wet you were for me." He continues nonetheless.

"Satoru-"

A smile spreads across his face at how embarrassed you get in reaction to his words, "The way you moaned my name almost made me cream my pants too-"

"Satoru." You say sternly.

Gojo pulls his lower lip into his mouth for a moment, carefully letting it slide back out as he stares at your face, "Hm? Yes, sweetheart?"

"Stop it." You order.

His fingers suddenly curl in between yours before he pulls your hand up to his mouth, gently kissing the back of it. "Yes ma'am..." Gojo whispers against you.

"Anyway..." You whisper, ignoring how fast your heart is beating, "So taking videos of your hands is how you make money?"

"It's how I make some of it, yeah," Gojo replies, just barely taking his lips off your hand.

You nod, "I see... Well, you're gonna have to explain where the rest of your money is coming from one day because I swear if I find out the money you've given me is illegal or something-"

"It's not, I swear." He reassures you. "I'd give my life savings to you before ever putting you in a position like that."

It's weird but, you smile slightly at his words. Then, you watch in comfortable silence as Gojo moves to kiss the back of your hand over and over. His lips are so soft against your skin, so affectionate, and so utterly loving that it almost infects you.

The hand kisses are enough to give you butterflies and the moment you feel that, you're quick to casually pull your hand away.

Gojo pouts at the loss of your hand but he doesn't say anything, simply moving to finally start driving again.

According to him, you've got fifteen dresses to go through and pick before the night approaches, and then after that; you'll finally meet Nanami.

Or at least, that was the plan. You weren't expecting things to go down the way it did.

No one could prepare you for the feelings that lay deep within the male in the car with you right now...

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???

NANAMI KENTO ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: ???

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

[liketolovexx]

Rem’s copycat daughter. ~ R.J.L

{in which Remus’s daughter notices his scars, but thinks they’re just as pretty as you do.}

Harsh droning permeates your slumber and you reach to turn off your alarm clock. Once silence welcomes you again, you lay against your pillow with a deep sigh, soaking in the morning sun. Large, warm arms wrap firmly around your waist, and a warmth lays heavy on your ribcage. You look down to see a mop of disheveled brunette curls splayed across your middle. Unable to hold back your lovesick smile, you move to play with Remus’s hair. At the scratching at his scalp, he groans softly, squeezing you tighter while rubbing his nose into you. He looked like an angel in the morning light and it made you excited to live another day. With him.

“Daddy! Daddy!” A sweet, high voice calls. Your messy-haired daughter, all dimples and giggles, runs into the room. She launches herself onto Remus’s back, earning a hearty groan. “Ahh.. careful, sweetheart…” he mumbles, but rolls away from you to tend to his baby. You tuck yourself into his side, though, unable to face the morning chill even centimetres away from your husband. She’s already got herself under Remus’s other arm, her head laying on his shoulder. She’s looking at you with a big, excited smile. Much like her parents, she loves cuddles. Remus could die like this, he thinks. Both of his girls tucked under his arms. Protected. Safe.

Later in the day, in the kitchen bathed in glorious midday sunshine, Remus glides around, making his girls lunch. You sometimes make food, but Remus enjoys cooking thoroughly, and so he’ll make the occasional meal. He hums under his breath, clad in sweatpants and an oversized autumn jumper as he butters the bread.

“DADA! DADA, LOOKS AT ME!!” He hears his daughter cry, tiny arms locking around his shin. Dimples crack his cheeks as he puts the knife down, turning to admire his baby. You stand behind her, the proudest look on your face as you watch. She’s painted herself with felt-tip pens, drawing lines and swirls in all the places Remus has scars. His heart wrenches. “Look, daddy! Im you now!!! Super pretty!” She sings, jumping up and down, her hair bouncing and her grin wide. Remus kneels and pulls her into his arms, which she giggles and enjoys thoroughly. Nose buried in her hair, he blinks away unshed tears of pride, which dribble down the apples of his cheeks. “Oh, my baby..” he mumbles, before you stoop to join the hug. “You hear that rem? Super pretty.” You whisper, holding his head, and sandwiching your daughter in a gentle hug.

[howtotrainabraincell]

Head Cannon bc I can - What kinds affectionate the different assassins would be - Part 1

Ezio Auditore da Firenze - The Lover of Love. Family man very affectionate/grew up in a loving closely knit family/family oriented/notices little things/sweetheart with a side of spice/he reminds me of the hot tamale candy lol spicy AND sweet at the same time bc he can be a cinnamon roll one second and then become the oven that you PUT the cinnamon roll IN. He seems like he would play the lute for you the few chords that he learned when he was younger that is, and he MIGHT sing but don't count on it haha. Man wrote some real nice letters when he was older so I bet he would try his hand at love letters no matter which Ezio you prefer, and they would be sweet. Loves to give hand kisses whether they be sweet or steamy. Often comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you in a hug, and imo LOVES it when you rake your fingers through his hair gently scratching his scalp. Would instantly be down bad for someone who cooks Italian food for him because it makes him feel loved and cared for.

Bayek of Siwa - The Kind Lover. Proud affection/"look at how awesome my partner is I worship the ground they walk on"/offers an arm for escort/is not afraid to hold your hand/great at letting people know where they stand and setting boundaries so no one will be confused about who he has feelings for. Very attentive and notices the little things/can kick ass and then some but is so gentle and sweet with the one he loves (no one touches a hair on their head or disturbs the air around them or so help him Anubis...) /great at communicating and is not afraid to talk about feelings. Have a feeling that he enjoys fresh baked bread and anything sweet he can get his hands on, and also loves to share them with his love. NO ONE can tell me that he doesn't take good care of the person he loves because man is a sweetheart protector and dang good provider. Forehead kisses are a big thing with him, where he gently cradles your head to do so, and lots of eye contact when he tells you that he loves you.

Edward Kenway - The Cheeky Pirate. sexual tension/handsy and cheeky but will stop if you're uncomfy/he knows when to behave/won't hesitate to smooch you to the ninth realm and back if someone looks at you like they want you/ have a feeling that he is BIG TIME into holding his partner in front of him at the wheel and steering the Jackdaw (letting them drive but not really)/spoils his loved one rotten any chance he gets (even if it is stolen lol)/will probably make you his co-co-captain alongside Adewale.

Ratonhnhake:ton/Connor Kenway- The Respectful Lover. Not really one for PDA but you'll know that you're loved by him/does gush about you to people from his tribe and everyone at the Homestead knows he's DOWN BAAADD (the tribe elders have predicted a wedding date lol bc they know that he'll marry you. Definitely teaches self-defense and fall in love 5,000 times harder if they made an attempt to learn Kanien'keha/if they love animals and nature, he again will worship the air they breathe. If you cook for him especially recipes from his tribe, he'll probably get emotional because they remind him of home, and he would be head over heels in love with someone who was open to learning about where he comes from and the ways of his people. If you defend him when someone is rude to him (despite being well able to defend himself as we all know) he will feel protected and loved, which he's rarely felt in his life since his mother.

Jacob Ethan Frye - The Sweetheart. Makes his partner feel valued ESPECIALLY as a woman because he's not a typical 19th century man who's all "women's place is in the home having babies and cooking and cleaning". He WILL LISTEN TO YOU and also put great faith in your opinion/cheeky and very flirtatious/can get flustered if partner matches his energy though lol/ something tells me this man LOVES and is WHIPPED for domesticity he's had a crazy, dangerous life with too many near death experiences to count at only 21 years old and while he would still be the chaotic cinnamon roll you fell in love with the Rooks and fight club and all he would love to come home to peace and calmness. If you cook/bake for him he will literally turn into a bottomless pit he LOVES IT though it will sometimes start sibling squabbles between him and his older sister because she loves your cooking too haha. Also teaches self-defense but will get flirty with you real quick so it's probably best to learn from Evie lol. VERY genuine and he means every loving word he says and every touch he gives. Protective of you and will throw hands if someone disrespects you. He also loves to make you laugh and tell.me.WHY I am so dang sure that he LOVES it when you play with his hair especially if you scratch your fingers lightly against his jaw and the scratchy whiskers he has there.

Desmond Miles - The Lonely One. Proud as well/total gentleman with sexy swagger lol/loves to take you out on his motorcycle/loves it when you come visit him at work because he'll be doing his job and look over to see you which makes him instantly happy/TOTALLY shows off his bartending skills and winks at you while doing it being a total flirt/ love language without a doubt is quality time and physical touch. Man is VERY affectionate imo because he's touched starved and most likely lonely (even with the Animus he still wants you because you comfort him). If you defend him from Shaun when he's being annoying or pushing him too much or clap back at the male half of his DNA, he will literally love you forever. Man is FERAL for a significant other that will defend him and care for him the way he wasn't all those years alone.

Altair Ibn La'Ahad - The Reserved Soldier...who's Smitten. Doesn't do PDA most that might happen is an arm offered for an escort or a hand on the waist to push you behind him/will kiss you on the cheek before he goes off on missions the same way he does the rest of the members of the Brotherhood (even if you're not part of it) while saying to you in Arabic "Safety and Peace my darling". Shows affection by smirking at you when you're flustered and acting as your intimidating AF bodyguard/in private tho...he's very amorous and loves having physical contact with his partner. Totally the type to lie there and rest with them or lazily kiss and hug. Not averse to showing that he loves you in public or declaring his love because he does love you very much, he just wants to protect your honor and avoid anyone (read: MALIK) heckling/harassing the both of you about being lovers. You are for his eyes and his eyes only whether it be hand holding, kissing, or various other things that he often thinks about...

Arno Victor Dorian - The Hopeless Romantic. Very affectionate also from being lonely and touch starved/not afraid to show his love for you in public. He DEFINITELY writes you love letters that are just - SIGH. He has a way with words and just pours everything into the letters he writes you, what he loves about you and why, how much you mean to him, how he would do anything for you. He's a hopeless romantic and when he falls in love he falls HARD and gives the one he loves everything (cue traumatic flashbacks of a certain ex-now deceased red haired lover of his). I think he would be SO in love with someone who noticed the little things about him and took care of those things. If he's sleep deprived? You let him sleep in and fix him breakfast in bed. If he's lonely while working? You sit with him wherever he is and read/ write/look out the window and watch Paris silently comforting him with just your presence. If he forgets to eat? You fixing him something delicious to eat and bringing it to him giving him a kiss and words of encouragement. Bringing him tea/water/coffee/hot chocolate while he's working. Would definitely spoil you with treats from the Cafe and if you work there, he'll drop by every so often to give you a sweet quick kiss. I think he would also show affection by helping you get ready in the morning and take this the way you wish...but he's really good with corset laces, buttons, and layers upon layers of fabric. He's thoughtful and sweet taking time to think about you (even though he barely thinks about himself). Will legit protect you with his life he refuses to lose you and will do anything to keep you safe. He loves to have slow relaxing days with you to have a moment away from his normally stressful life. You pulling him away from his work for distraction or holding him when the Council annoys him is always welcome. You will definitely know that he loves you with everything that he has.

[anemptypuddingcup]

Wishes aren’t real.

Samurai Zoro x Female Maid Reader.

You were saved and swept up and out of poverty by a loyal and thoughtful samurai. Eyes filled with admiration and gratitude for him blinds the things that may need to be seen.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Contains: This entire series contains dark themes. Reader is a lower class woman living in poverty (until Zoro finds her). Zoro is a higher class samurai or swordsman. Zoro taking in Reader and making her his maid. Sweet and harmless Zoro. (Zoro doesn’t show his true nature until the next part.) Reader noticing the odd things from Zoro but brushing it off. This beginning fic is very long and gets you into the story.

You hadn’t done a lot in your life…

You only remember the better times you had when you were a younger child to teenager, back when you saw your mother caring for you and doing as much as she could to help bring food to the table.

You’d finally understood how hard she struggled, how terrible it was and is to still live in poverty. You didn’t even have the heart to walk around and ask for a bowl of rice or even a loaf of bread.

You were embarrassed to walk around town in your tattered kimono and scratched up geta without the feeling of eyes burning into your body.

Living in poverty was a terrible thing.

And now here you are…your back up against a brick wall in a small alley as you felt yourself dying of starvation…

You believed that there was no hope in you being saved…not from starvation and neither not from poverty.

The more your stomach growled, the weaker you grew and the more you began to close your eyes and drift off into a painful rest.

You sigh out and press your hands together, whispering a final prayer to yourself while your body slowly slide down. You lied there against the rough gravel on the ground, knowing that your time was nearly up and that your body was close to finally giving out.

You groaned out and let out another little sigh before slowly closing your eyes, accepting your fate but thanking whatever god it was for bringing you into this dark and cruel world.

…

He took slow and heavy steps while he clung to his three swords at his hip, his left arm within his kimono as he trailed down the path of loose gravel below himself.

He was heading home to rest up and prepare for the next day after working so hard and draining himself out for today. An irritated groan left his lips as he turned into a dark alleyway, his only eye peering around as he took slow and careful steps down the path.

As he walked, he noticed a light shadow or a figure kneeling down on the path which makes him come to a sudden halt. His eye stared down at what seemed to be a woman who was sleeping on the side of the path. He quirks a brow before crouching down beside her, inspecting her before reaching a hand out to touch her. Hearing her groan out weakily causes him to pull back and he tilts his head before pressing his hand to his chin.

He sighs out before reaching his arms out and sliding them underneath the young woman, picking her up and raising his brows at how light she was.

Judging from her torn kimono and scuffed geta, it was obvious that she was a lower class woman who hadn’t eaten in more than a few days. He sighs out and continues his walk with the young woman held tight in his arms but not too tight that she could be hurt.

Staring down at her features, she wasn’t hard on the eyes. She was beautiful. Her monotone facial expression gave off the sense that she was probably fed up with her life and was accepting her fate once she fell asleep.

He huffs out lowly but gives a little smirk as he thought about what to do.

How would she react once she woke up? How would her nature be? Is she a good person? Is she trustworthy?

So many questions ran through his mind as he went down the path to his estate.

He would just have to wait and see.

…

Your body was warm and cozy as you felt your eyelids slowly opening, the sight of tatami mats and shoji screens made your brows furrow in question.

Must’ve been a dream.

You rubbed your eyes and looked around once again, the scenery still the same as it was when you opened your eyes the first time .

“Mmgh…? W-What…?” You rubbed your head and slowly sat up, your body feeling the soft material of a futon beneath your body. The blankets were warm and soft against your skin, and the sweet smell of freshly washed linen filled your nose. You looked around at the scenery, seemed like you were in someone else’s home…but who’s home to be exact?

You slowly crawled up out of your futon and stood up, mewling as you stretched out your arms and torso. Taking a few steps, you slowly stumbled over to the shoji door and slid it open, peeking through the crack and gathering your surroundings. Sliding the door open fully, you slowly walk out of the room and close the door behind yourself before looking around.

The sound of bare feet hitting the tatami mats catches your attention and you look around to see…a young man with green mossy hair. His eye peers at you and he smiled before walking past you and to the room at the end of hall, your eyes following his large figure. You scratch your head in confusion before turning around and reaching a hand out to him.

“Um- E-Excuse me!” You call out to him which makes him freeze in place before turning around and looking to you with his only eye. “Hm?” He tilts his head and quirks a brow to you, standing tall above you and looking down at you and your smaller frame. Your words immediately went back into your throat as you realize how big this man was.

He was rather handsome too…

“U-Um…Where?- Where is this place? Last time I fell asleep…I was…” You words trail off as your stomach began to growl loudly, cutting your attention away from your question. Zoro smiles and grabs your hand, guiding you down the hallway and into his tea room. “You’ve woken up just in time. I was just about to eat breakfast without you if you slept longer. I’ll explain things after you eat.” He says, his footsteps careful and slow.

You nodded and followed him, standing there as you watched him slide the shoji door to his tea room open. Rice balls were arranged on a tray along with two teacups filled with hot green tea on the low table. The weather was beautiful outside, with the birds chirping and the bamboo of the shishi-odoshi (deer scarer) repeatedly falling and hitting the stone.

The man slowly walks into the room and motions you to come in, to which you do. “Have a seat.” He says, patting the pillow beside him as he sat himself down. You slowly sit yourself down and say a small prayer before grabbing a rice ball, your stomach growling and yearning for food to just enter it.

“I’ll discuss things with you in a moment after you eat. I need you to eat and drink something, alright?” He explains to you firmly, his eye looking down at you while he watches you take a bite out of your rice ball. You mewl out at the taste and nodded to him, stuffing down half of the rice ball within seconds.

“Y-Yes sir…” You say, covering your mouth and excusing yourself as you spoke with your mouth stuffed full of rice and tuna-mayo filling. He chuckles and takes a sip of his tea before getting into his breakfast, turning his head to the side and watching the beautiful scenery outside. After a moment, he turns back over to you and watched you take more rice balls from the tray, your eyes looking over him while he motions you to take more.

“Make sure you drink some tea as well.” He says, wiping the bits of rice grains from his chin and mouth while reaching for another rice ball.

You could say that this was the very first breakfast you’ve had in a while and actually enjoyed. You were thankful that this man had picked you up off the side of that gravel path and took you in. You were rather quick to show gratitude for him. You watched as he chewed and munched on his rice ball and he peeks back over to you, making you quickly turn away from him while he lets out a little giggle.

“It’s okay to stare, many women stare at me and you’re no different. Well- Maybe you’re one of the very few to get a good look at me up close.” He says, reaching over handing you another rice ball. You take the rice ball from his hands and bite down into it while still staring at him.

You were happy that this man wanted to make sure you were nice and full, hell you were more surprised at his kindness more than anything. Not many people would just pick up a low classed woman up off the street or path out of pure kindness. Not unless if it was another low class person…

You could tell by the looks of his home and attire that he was a man of higher class and status, but what did a man like him want to do with a lower class woman such as yourself? It made you think a bit deep on it.

What would this man want with you…?

After breakfast, the young man pours a bit more green tea into your tea cup to which you’d gladly accepted and slowly sipped. “Now I can discuss this with you. My name is Roronoa Zoro and I’m a samurai of a higher class and status than you. I don’t mean to be rude when I say that…” He says, sipping more green tea from his tea cup. You nodded as he continued speaking, his eye peering down at you with slight interest.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your name young woman?” He asked you, setting his tea cup down onto the table as he slowly stood up and pressed his feet against the tatami mats. You watched as he brushed down his kimono, making sure there weren’t any bits of grains of rice or filling on him. Your gazing causes you to fall quiet, the sight of him peering back down at you causing you answer him quickly.

“It’s ________ sir...” You responded, propping yourself up against your hands while you watched him slowly sit back down. He smiles at your manners as he reaches out for the tea pot and pours himself another cup of tea.

You watched him slowly pour more of the tea into his tea cup, the steam spilling out of the kettle alongside with the tea. He sets his kettle down before picking up his tea cup, a soft sigh leaving his lips while he got a good waft of the tea. “A beautiful name you have. It fits you young lady.” He says, blowing at his tea to cool it off.

You blushed at his response.

“T-Thank you.” You responded, staring at the rice balls sitting on the tray as you still yearned for more to fill you up. Zoro catches your eye and chuckles at your gaze. “Please if you want some more they’re free for you to take. I know how hungry you must be after not eating for so long. They’re all for you.” He says, pulling the tray closer to you and urging you to eat more.

“A-Are you sure sir? You’re full enough to where you don’t want more?” You asked with respect, your eyes staring up at him and into his singular eyes. He nods in response and chuckles. “Please. Take them.” He says for the final time, taking the last sip of his tea and pushing his tea cup away before sighing out in fullness.

You took a bite of another rice ball and you both sat there in silence, the sounds of the outside nature breaking most of it. You sat there and chewed hungrily before your eyes slowly trails back up to Zoro. He was looking outside at the scenery once again, inhaling deeply as he watched it all without a thought in his mind.

Your verbal thoughts finally breaks the silence for both you and him.

“M-May I ask, why did you save me sir? Surely someone of higher status such as yourself wouldn’t care about someone like me correct?” You asked out of pure curiosity, wondering why a man of high class like this swordsman save you?

He turns to you and sighs out before sitting up straight.

“No one deserves a fate such as yours. I can tell that you’ve suffered much in your life. Why not be granted a second chance.” He says lightly, his eyes trailing down at the low table while his fingers tapped at it.

Your eyes widens in response but he wasn’t finished speaking yet.

“I don’t see lower class like how people of my status would see them.” He admits, his head resting against his hand.

Your eyes glistened with admiration. “Wow…T-Thank you sir…Thank you so much! Please let me repay you.” You responded happily, bowing down to him while he watched. Your response catches his ear and making him react with a smile. He presses his fingers to his chin before looking and smirking down to you.

“Well ________, I need someone to work things around my estate while I’m away on my trips. Since you’re a lower class woman, do you mind becoming the maid of my estate?” He asked you nonchalantly, watching as your head slowly rises up from the tatami mats.

Your eyes were wide with shock and you cover you mouth at his question. “I…I’d be honored sir! Yes please!“ You say, bowing down to him once again out of gratitude. Slight tears began brewing within your eyes as you tried your best to contain your emotions and excitement from this whole ordeal. He chuckled and presses his hand against your chin, lifting your head and wiping your sudden tears away.

“Please, no need to bow young lady. It’s fine as long as you can do your tasks correctly for me. You’ll now live under my roof alongside me as my maid.” He says to you, cupping your face with his roughly-scarred hands.

You sniveled and held on to his hands, biting your lower lip while your brows furrowed. Finally and somehow, a miracle had finally fell upon you. You finally felt needed and wanted by someone and had a job granted to you.

Regardless if you didn’t know how to work as a maid, you were damn sure that a maid was what he needed around his estate and that he’ll provide anything he can to help with your position.

Not that you didn’t know how…it was the point.

“T-Thank you so much sir…T-Thank you…” You thanked him, shedding a bit more tears as you stared up into his eye. He nods and wipes more of your tears away before standing up, leaving his tea set and tray on the table as he walked over to the shoji screen door.

“Stay here for a moment, I need to grab you some fresh clothes.” He says, sliding the screen open and walking out of the room, leaving you alone in the room to shed your hot and happy tears.

You looked outside and smiled to yourself. “Thank you…Thank you so much…” You said to yourself, pressing your hands together and putting them to your temple.

You wipe your tears away and perk up as you hear Zoro walk back into the room with fresh kimono linens and an obi (kimono sash) for you. On top of those linens were charms for your hair, matching hair charms that complimented the kimono linens. “Here’s some fresh clothes and towels for you, you’ll start after you bathe. The bathroom is farther down the estate, if you want I can show you where it is.” He explains to you, holding a hand out to you to help you up.

You grip his hand and he pulls you up easily before handing you the linens and charms. “Please show me where it is…I don’t know your estate very well…” You say sweetly to him to which he nods in response. “Follow me then.” He says with charm before turning around. He slowly began to walk out of the room and you followed behind, looking around and realizing how large the place was.

For the only samurai living here, it was a very big place he had. Though that didn’t bother you, you were excited to be around in a larger home.

You followed him down the estate and into a large bathroom where the water was already ran in the tub for you. The fresh scent of mint and honey filled the bathroom and you hum out in delight at the aromatic scent. Zoro smiles at your reaction, thanking himself in his mind that he picked out the correct scents for you to enjoy.

“If you need anything please don’t hesitate to call out for me. I’ll be right outside.” He says before walking out of the bathroom, shutting the door softly behind himself. You sigh out and smiled as you set down the linens down onto a wooden stool, the fresh scent filling your nose which made you grow eager to jump into the bath.

You began pulling the bow of your obi, loosening it and pulling it off before sliding your tattered and torn kimono off of your body. The dirty linen of the kimono fell onto the stone floor and you slowly begin walking over to the bathtub before staring down at the hot and steaming water.

You slowly dipped your toes into the water, humming at the temperature before fully setting half of your calve down into the water.

You lowered yourself into the bathtub, sighing out happily as the warm water immediately your relaxed your body in alongside the sweet honey and minty fresh scent.

You lied there for a good while and smiled to yourself, thinking about how nicer your life would be working as Zoro’s maid. You were positive that the job wouldn’t be so hard for you. You knew how to cook and clean very well from your mother. Washing clothes and dusting didn’t seem like much of an issue for you so you were sure this opportunity was going to be a piece of cake.

You giggled to yourself before grabbing a fresh washcloth and soap, scrubbing hard at your skin and enjoying the feeling of the suds.

…

As you began to stand up from the water and scrub more, you began to feel…a bit uneasy. You felt as if someone was watching you with their eyes, looking at you scrub at your dirtied skin without your acknowledgment.

You slowly peer around amongst the steam filling the washroom and noticed the shoji door being cracked, opened just a smidge. You quirk a brow and slowly sat back down, the water splashing a bit as you did. You could’ve sworn Zoro closed that door all the way. You saw him do it for sure.

So why was the door cracked open…?

Zoro must’ve forgotten to close it all the way. It has to be your mind playing tricks on you. You shrugged it off and sink farther into the water, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you did. You begin to wash your hair after washing your body, your hair desperately needing a wash after waiting for so long. You kept your eyes on that door as you scrubbed at your scalp, knowing that it was closed when Zoro had walked out.

…

Your fingers were beginning to prune and the warm water had turned cold by then. It’s been so long since you had a bath that you didn’t want to step out regardless of how cold the water had gotten. Though you had to get out, the water was rather dirty from how much grime that coated your body hours before you got in.

You sighed out and slowly stepped out of the tub before running the faucet again, rinsing off the dirty ring that rounded about the white clean porcelain of the tub. You slowly walk over and reach out for your towels, drying yourself and your hair thoroughly to make sure now a drop of water lingered on your body.

As you dried off your body and reach out for kimono linens you paused at the sudden chill that ran down between your legs which was bare and open.

You look around and then thought about it.

Zoro hadn’t offered you hand undergarments at all.

A blush coated your cheeks as you before to walk over to the shoji door, reaching a hand out without much thought. A sudden look at the state of the sliding door makes you pause and your eyes began to widen.

The door was in fact cracked open which meant that your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you from the beginning. Your hand began to shake as you pressed it to the door and slowly slide it open, peeking your head out and looking around.

No one was there to be seen so you sighed out to yourself and hoped that maybe…it was just your mind and that maybe Zoro didn’t close the door all the way. “Um! Sir? Are you around? I need you for a moment!” You yelled out, looking both left and right of the hallway while you began to hear footsteps come down the left side. “In a moment. I’ll be there.” You hear Zoro’s voice call out firmly, his footsteps sounding like he was taking his time walking towards you.

He slowly walks towards you and stops midway, not wanting to disrespect your privacy. “What is it that you need?” He asked you, his arms crossed as he looks down at your head that poked out past the doors. You giggle nervously to him before sighing out in slight embarrassment.

“You didn’t give me any undergarments. Do you have any women’s underwear or such like that?” You asked him, the embarrassment now written all over your face. Zoro freezes for a moment before scratching his head. “Ah…Now that you mention it to me…I don’t. I just have kimono linens for visitors. I’ll go out and get you some, until then please try and be patient with me alright?” He says, a bit of a nervous smirk spread across his face while he watched you slowly pull your head back into the bathroom.

“Is there anything else you may need help with?” You hear him ask you, your arms picking up the linens and sliding them on. As you began to throw your kimono on, you look around for a mirror and realized that there wasn’t one at all in the bathroom.

“Ah- Yes! May you tie my obi and hair up for me please? There’s no mirror in here!” You responded, holding your kimono closed before walking over to the sliding door. You slide the door open and motioned for him to come in, which he does. He slowly walks in and picks up your obi up off of the stool before wrapping it around your midsection.

He pulls it back a bit before tying it into a lovely bow while you stood there and felt his hands mend at your midsection. “Here, turn around for me. Since there’s no mirror I could put your charms along your hair for you too.” He says politely, offering to help with your hair as well. He slowly walks over to bathroom closet and digs around, finding a matching colored ribbon to help tie your hair up with.

He pulls your hair back and ties it up into a nice yet semi-drenched bun before picking up the charms one by one and putting them in your hair. As you watched him put the charms along your temple, your face began growing hot the more your stared up at his face.

You couldn’t help but to admire how handsome he was and how helpful he was with women garments. You assumed he might’ve had a wife or a lover before you had showed up, nothing else could explain how skilled he was at tying a bow or fixing up your hair.

You watched as he steps back and smiles, admiring how beautiful you were freshened up and clean. “You look wonderful. Beautiful in fact.” He says, chuckling to himself as he begins to walk out of the bathroom. You smile and blush at his words before gathering the dirty towels and linens on the floor.

You stood there for a second before shrugging and rolling up your sleeves, the thought of cleaning up already running through your mind as you eye the drops of water on the floor and the bit of grime that was still visible in the tub. You cleaned up the bathroom and tried your best to restore it to the way it looked before, scrubbing up at the water and grime in the bathtub and fixing it back in the original order it was.

Just to give Zoro a good first impression.

…

You let out a heavy sigh of relief as you wiped your brows and stood up off of your knees and onto your feet. Your sleeves automatically unrolling slowly and your hands were a bit wet and sticky from all the cleaning you’ve just accomplished. You were sure that some amount of time had passed after cleaning up, your stomach already having its new appetite worked up after much of the work you’ve completed.

“________.”

You perk up at the sound of Zoro’s voice, hearing him call out your name down the farther end of the hall. You quickly rushed yourself, picking up the dirty towels and linens once again before rushing out of the bathroom and into the hallway.

“I’m coming sir!” You responded, rushing and practically running down the hallway while you hear him call out for you again.

You stop as you see his tall figure and breathed heavily as you stood there before him. “I-I’m here sir! W-What did you need-“ You began to ask him a question but suddenly froze as you noticed him slipping on his geta shoes and grabbing his three katanas.

You frowned as you watched him fix himself up.

”Y-You’re heading out a-already?” You asked, watching as he slid his katanas into his waist strap that held them up and kept his kimono together. He froze as he heard the disappointment in your voice and sighs out as well before shutting his eye slowly.

“Yes, I need to go out and I won’t be back until nightfall.” He says to you, walking over to you and pressing his hand to your head where your soft strands rested. You give him a bit of a sad look, a bit upset to see him leaving so early already. It hadn’t even been that long since you met him and had breakfast together. He notices your saddened look and gives you a pleasant smile.

He cups your face with one of his hands and moves in close, your noses close to touching each other as he stared into your eye. Though he hesitates and pulls away, nearly forgetting that you both had only just met each other not too long ago. Part of you wanted to reach out so badly and pull him back towards you.

“I promise you’ll see me again as soon as night falls. I have a few tasks you’ll need to do tonight, okay?” He says to you, making you perk up with slight excitement. You smile and nodded to him before asking him what the tasks would be for you.

“The bedrooms needs a bit of dusting….and when I get home I expect dinner on the table and…a hot bath to be ready as soon as I come back…” He says, rubbing the back of his neck with a groan. You smile and nodded in agreement. “Is it okay if I greet you every time you come back home?” You asked him. He smiles at your question.

“Of course you can.”

“I’ll make sure to bring back your undergarments as well.” He continues. “Thank you.” You responded, bowing to him and watching as he began to walk away from you.

“Anything specific you’d like for dinner?” You asked him as you lifted your head, making him halt and turn to you. He smirks, a slight chuckle leaving him. “Surprise me.” He says playfully to you. You nodded and waved him goodbye but he halts once more, as if he forgot to say one more thing.

“One last thing you need to follow…”

“Don’t leave my estate unless I say so. Understand?”

His entire tone had shifted and caused you to shudder at his words. You nodded your head but he stood there, still staring at you as if he wanted a certain type of response from you. “I need a worded answer.” He says firmly to you.

You froze for a moment before speaking back out to him. “W-What if I need groceries for our future breakfasts and dinners?” You asked him, taking a step forward to him as you worded your question carefully. “I can take care of all of that. Just obey my wishes and stay here as you’re told to.” He says deeply, his tone dripping with seriousness while his eye gave it off.

You you kept your mouth closed and bowed in response to him, making him loosen up and smile.

“Y-Yes sir…I understand.”

“Good. I’ll be back. Finish those tasks for me please.” He says, finally walking down and turning the corner. You sigh out heavily as if you were holding your breath within his presence. His tone sounded like he wasn’t going to say what he said a second time, he was genuinely serious.

Not that you didn’t know that, the man was a samurai with morals and a cold hard attitude. Why wouldn’t he be serious about what he had just told you? It made you worry for what would happen if you didn’t complete your tasks or do them correctly as you’re told.

Your heart began to feel heavy at the thought but that wasn’t going to push you away from this offer. You sighed and shook off the feeling, walking down the hallway and back to your assigned room with your dirty linens.

Even though he didn’t provide directions of the bedrooms, you had more than plenty of time to do what he asked for you to do. Living in the home of a serious swordsman made you feel protected, regardless if you didn’t know Zoro that much.

You had a great feeling that you would enjoy this experience more than your previous life that you were close to leaving.

[twiceastasty]

Pumpkin Quick Bread

Easier to make than fully from-scratch pumpkin pie and easy to store and transport, two-loaf quick bread recipes let you enjoy one loaf and gift the other. Learn to make Pumpkin Quick Bread.

While most people of think of pumpkins for pie late in the year—I shared each homemade component over several weeks last year in my Twice as Tasty column for the Flathead Beacon—many of my homegrown sugar pumpkins end up in less labor-intensive dishes, like the quick bread recipe I share this week. I explain in my column how “quick” can be a bit misleading, since it still takes time to put the…

[aforestescape]

kidnapper simon - gn!reader. no smut or romance

next.

i’ve come to a fun conclusion that i most enjoy cnc/dubcon when the reader/kidnapped party is just too touch starved and has low standards to the point where they don’t even care

like sure, you weren’t expecting to be kidnapped by some six foot something, bulky man in a skull faced mask. you scream and cry and try anything you can think of to get away as he drags you to the back of his van. nails digging into and leaving rising red scratches on any exposed flesh you can find. he just lets out a grunt, brown eyes roaming over you as you squirm with tears burning your cheeks after he’s tied you up. tenderly running rough fingers over your cheeks to wipe the wetness away. it’s the last thing you remember before your vision goes hazy and you’re out like a light

you even fight and cry when you first wake up. some dimly lit room, wallpapered and cozy furniture under your ached form. tears and sobs choked up in your throat when the man returns to you. your mind screaming at you and body tense as you try to prepare for whatever may come to you. he comes over again to wipe the tears from your cheeks. this time lifting the bottom of his mask enough to expose a scarred chin and cracked, cleft lips. a pink tongue dashing out to lick the salty taste off and you whimper in terror

he brings over a bowl that he placed down, forcing you to eat the food he’s made. you’re surprised it tastes edible, good even

there’s the time when he came in to give you your first bath. more tears than water in the tub as he swipes a towel covered in lavender suds down your back. cooing sounds escaping his lips like he’s attending to a wounded animal

but after a while your tears dry up. it doesn’t take long. you’d hazard a month of time but really you wouldn’t know past the rising and setting of sun through the window in the room that’s all yours. you stopped being scared whenever he’d drag you into his lap and pet your hair. holding up a book and having you read out loud for the both of you. if it weren’t for the fact you were dragged here against your will you’d think it was almost nice. sweet

something you’d imagine a home would feel like. warm, hearty soups and fresh bread. cuddling against a big, warm body as rain splattered outside onto the dirt, a fire roaring near you. he even lets you go outside sometimes. taking you on walks through the endless trees along the mountains face. breathtaking views of iced caps and you know you could never escape this place that you used to spend time imagining a home like

so you smile whenever you see him again after a day spent collecting firewood. you bug him until he gets you seeds to start a little flower garden, doodling in your journal everytime you spot a new growing bud on a stem

you seek out his warmth, scratching at the inside of your bedroom door on days when he leaves you locked inside. waiting until you hear that heavy press of footsteps on creaky boards and pouncing him once the doors open. burrowing your face into his chest and feeling the world quiet to the low hum of his voice

[yourantag]

Do NOT Let Him Cook (Morningstar!Ithaqua×Reader)

AN: Happy White Day! I'm probably not posting more than this and the other fic I was supposed to post Valentine's Day (which, as you can see, I failed in doing) for March. I will, however, be posting a little more in April cause that is my birthday month! Expect a few indulgent fics. This fic is honestly just crack, so if you need something silly and sweet, here we are! Genuinely, do not let this man cook. Word count: 2.2k words Summary: It's White Day, a day of reciprocated love. Of course, Helel has to give you something in return for your wonderful Valentine's gift. Now, if only he could figure out how he turned a tart into a fruity croissant...

There were very few things Helel feared. The first, of course, was you. He held your heart in his hands as you did too, yes, but no one could get him to obey them quite like you could. It was loyalty, it was devotion, one reciprocated through blood and love. To possess such power over him is somewhat of a marvel, something to fear, even just a little.

The second was your death, the thought of you leaving his side forever. He'd tear apart the world, commit sacrilege in the holiest places, and declare war upon the gods before he'd let someone take you from him. Still, he cannot control plagues, time, or the hostility within the hearts of humans. Life is delicate, even Helel cannot deny that.

The third thing he feared, Helel learned, was baking.

It seems simple enough, really. Chuck a few ingredients in, mix it, then toss it in an oven. Easy, right? Looking around him now, with smoke billowing off the charred tray (and wow, he didn't know metal could burn like that), Helel was completely at a loss.

"Ah, these don't seem quite right." He muttered, scratching his cheek. All Helel wanted was to give you something in return for your Valentine's gift, something special. He had consulted many people, even asking some of the prisoners, as odd as that sounded.

Most didn't give any good responses, only saying "please let me go" or "you're going to pay for this." Terrible advice, really. Not even on topic, either, but it could be worse, he supposed. So, he went to ask his favorite person to bother.

"For the love of- just make them cookies or something!" Nebuchadnezzar had exclaimed, absolutely done with Helel's ramblings. He looked about ready to chew his tongue off so he could finally know peace again. At least death wouldn't ramble about their lover for 15 hours straight.

It had been a decent suggestion, so Helel had taken it. Perhaps he shouldn't have, considering the disaster that was most of his creations.

The counters were covered in flour, the fine powder dusting the area like snow. Splatters of batter, egg, and butter painted some places like abstract art. The worst place of all, funnily enough, was the table. It was completely clean, presenting only a few delectable looking treats.

Sadly, they were not exactly what they were made to be. Somehow, Helel had managed to make bread instead of cake, a croissant instead of a tart, and now small bricks instead of cookies. He carefully tapped one against the counter, wincing as the wood chipped under the force. The cookie, however, was fine.

'I... can't give them this.'

Helel smiled awkwardly, wanting nothing but to slam his face against a wall. He had thought "it couldn't be that hard!" and look at him now. It was pathetic, to the point he genuinely considered just asking a servant to make something instead. However, that's literally something he could do any other day. It didn't carry the significance he'd want it to.

You had given him the head of the rebellion's leader, which most would find horrifying but he found terribly romantic. The best Valentine's gift, truly. Sure, he couldn't give you something of equal value, but he could try and match the sentiment. Helel knew you loved effort and thought, so he would do his best to give you something of that in equal measure.

So, he couldn't give up. Helel once again turned to a different page in the cook book, praying to himself that he didn't fuck up this time. He couldn't possibly mess up sugar cookies, right? They were simple, so surely no matter what they'd be fine.

He was cursing himself wasn't he?

He poured the ingredients, carefully measuring them as he went through the motions. It went smoother this time since he just made cookies (if he could really call them that). With practice under his belt, Helel managed to make a tray of cookies.

"Now I roll them in sugar before baking... where's the sugar?" He looked around, grabbing at the jars in front of him.

"That's flour... that's baking powder... or is it baking soda?... that's powdered milk... wait why do we have powdered milk? Oh!" Helel smiled as he finally found what he was looking for. He didn't know how the chefs managed to get anything done with nothing labeled, but that was the beauty of not being a chef. He didn't have to know, and perhaps he never would.

So, he popped open the glass jar, pouring in the crystalline fragments into a bowl. They glimmered innocently in the light, small gems that melted upon one's tongue.

Helel quickly tossed each cookie ball into the bowl, placing them back onto the tray afterward. Making sure they weren't too close together, he arranged them one last time. Finally, he placed them in the oven. The timer would let him know when they were ready.

The man sighed, moving quickly to wash the dirty dishes. He knew he could leave it to the servants, but at this point, he just wanted to get rid of the evidence of his failures. Sure, most of his baked treats looked... fine, but the first few looked as though it had gone through someone's digestive system already.

After all was said and done, Helel felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. If this was what the chefs dealt with on the daily, he was going to have to give them a raise. All this for some desserts? Really? They deserved to be paid more for this misery.

Checking the timer, he nodded to himself. 10 minutes was enough time to snack on something. Helel let himself drop into a seat, groaning as his weary legs finally got to rest. He grabbed the cake-turned-bread, cutting off a small slice. The cookies were a definite no, and he had his suspicions about the croissant, but the bread seemed fine.

'If I get poisoned from this, they're never going to let me live it down.'

You would absolutely make fun of him. Morningstar, the King of Babel, dying from his own creation. It sounded like a story Shakespeare wrote, really. Helel hoped more for his pride rather than his life that he wasn't that bad at baking.

Taking a few bites, he found that he wasn't dying yet. Which was relieving, of course, but to his surprise, the bread also tasted not bad. Sweeter than most breads, but nothing unbearable. It was probably going to be one of the few things he could actually share with you.

At the chime of the timer, Helel took the cookies out of the oven, letting them cool. That would give him another few minutes to start packing things up. Should he use red ribbon or white? It's a White Day gift, yes, but you told him red reminded you of him.

Humming, the young king started slicing the bread, gently placing the slices in a nice container. Perhaps he should pack some jam in the basket too- it would go well with it.

Helel glanced at the first batch of cookies, opting to dump them in the trash after a brief moment of contemplation. Could they be used as projectiles? Honestly, yes. Was he going to let anyone know he failed that badly? Never.

Finally, he took a bite of one of the croissants. It was fine as well, just odd. The fruit fillings and cream were distributed well throughout the pastry. If it weren't for the fact that it was supposed to be a tart, Helel might have been proud.

Packing those up as well, he placed the 2 containers in a basket, grabbing a few jars of jam and a butter knife. By then, the cookies were sufficiently cooled. Though, after taking another look at them, Helel wondered what he had done wrong this time.

Unlike the first batch, these cookies were puffy. They weren't like cream puffs, but they were certainly not cookies. Had he mixed up which of the powders he was using? He really wouldn't be surprised if that were the case.

The other pastries he had packed weren't made to be what they ended up as, but tasted fine anyway. Maybe, these would be the same.

So, shrugging his shoulders, Helel tossed one of the "cookies" in his mouth. 

And instantly he regretted it.

It was salty. Not salty in the pleasantly seasoned way, but salty as in if he had drank salt water it would taste better than this.

Spitting out the abomination, Helel glared at one of the jars. Of course he mixed up the sugar and salt, of course. Still, he at least had something other than this. He'd just have to dispose of these.

If you didn't find him.

The door clicks open, and Helel can't decide whether he wants to scream or jump right out the window. In the doorway, as he expects, is you. You're always welcome in his eyes, his wonderful, perfect significant other. However, at this particular moment, he really wishes you weren't here.

"Helel? What are you doing here?"

Though you ask, you already seem to at least know he was baking. Not a very hard assumption to make, all things considered, but that just makes things harder for him.

"I was... baking." He says, giving a strained smile as he slowly grabs the tray of cookies. Hopefully, if he's quick enough, you won't even notice him toss the entire thing in the trash.

'Please do not ask about these, please don't notice-'

"Is that a scone dusted in salt???" 

Helel was going to throw himself off a cliff.

"...I was trying to make sugar cookies."

The look you give him simply reaffirms his decision.

"I... see. What's the occasion?" You draw closer to him, staring curiously at the basket. He's thankful he managed to add a blanket on top beforehand, though it would've been nice if he had tied a ribbon around the handle, too.

"It's White Day, so I wanted to give you something special." Helel responded, dropping the tray with a sigh. It was too late to hide it, so why bother?

You hum softly, lips curling into a smile. You grab one of the scones, taking a bite before he can warn you. Yet, instead of spitting it out like he expected, you chewed as though nothing were wrong with it.

"Are- are you okay?" He can't help but ask. He had tried one right before you came- he knew they didn't taste good. So, how was it that you ate the entire scone without even cringing in the slightest?

"Yep, I'm fine. I'm sure you already know, but these are salty." You laugh, quickly grabbing a glass of water and chugging it. Despite the concern he feels, Helel can't help the way his chest warms. 

"Well, yeah, I was going to warn you about that. Can't believe you ate it all- I spat it out immediately. Why did you eat it anyway?" He can't help but ask. You weren't one to shy away from being honest. The fact you looked him in the eye and told him it was salty was proof enough. You weren't scared of him, so why would you put yourself through that?

You give him a smile, tilting your head towards the window. The sun is high in the sky, letting all know that it was sometime in the afternoon.

"You've been here for... I'm guessing at least 5 hours. I don't know how you haven't collapsed yet, but that's not the point right now. The point is," You take his hands into yours, kissing each of his knuckles. "I see your effort, and I don't want to let it go to waste."

Helel, for all his cruelty, his hatred, his grief- cannot be anything but in love for you. To love is to be seen, to be known, and it seems that for all his life, that's exactly what you've done. Seen him, known him, but most of all, loved him.

So, he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing kisses from your palm down to your wrist. He lingers there, letting you cradle his face as he closes his eyes.

It wasn't perfect by all means, but he thinks that this small moment is worth more than anything he could've ever orchestrated. Helel doesn't need endless praise, gifts, or overwhelming acts. All he needed was a bit of acknowledgement, a bit of love.

"Happy White Day, my sun.”

-

ALTERNATE STORY:

Helel did not realize he was that bad at baking. He completely blames Nebuchadnezzar for everything.

"HELEL, HOW THE FUCK DID YOU MANAGE TO MAKE A MONSTER!?"

"HIS NAME IS FREDERICK KREIBURG AND HE'S SORRY TO SAY THAT HE'S FRENCH!"

"WE AREN'T EVEN IN FRANCE! WHAT DID YOU ADD TO THOSE COOKIES? THE CREMATED REMAINS OF YOUR DAD!?"

"...that explains why the sugar was so dusty."

"...Helel Morningstar Babel-"

"Ahaha... ha..."

Yeah, Helel was going to kill his brother if you didn't end up killing him first.

[avatarmerida]

Stay

I can’t focus on other thing rn becuse @turquoisespace35’s mythology AU has taken over my brain so here’s a little drabble I wrote for it based mostly on this and this part 💛💚

———

“I don’t want you to go.”

He said it as firmly as he could. He had practiced it over and over again but still his voice shook. She had been honest with him from day one and there was still so much he hadn’t told her. He knew it might be selfish, might be impossible, might be too much, but he also knew she wouldn’t want him to hold it in. It wasn’t an order or request or even an invitation, it more like like a dream.

Once the moon entered the sky the gates would open and she would be able to leave. No one had ever been able to leave before. How ironic the one person who could was the only one he didn’t want to. He didn’t have a good reason or solid argument. It wasn’t logical or practical but it was true. He just knew that he wanted her to stay with him, everything else was just noise.

“What?” She asked in a tone Hunter couldn’t quite place. Was she shocked? Offended? Scared? Or had she just not heard him?

“I… want you to stay,” he tried rephrasing it. Maybe this was more honest. He didn’t want to be too honest too quickly because he knew what he really wanted was too much. He wanted every minute of every hour to be touched by her presence. He wanted to experience every sunrise and sunset with her. He wanted to cover his dreary island with vibrant flowers for her and sit beneath the apple tree as they exchanged stories. He wanted stories with her, he wanted to make memories they could revisit and share and have more time together than they had apart. He wanted the complicated simplicity she has shown him for the rest of his days. He wanted to ensure she knew nothing but kindness and gratitude for the rest of hers.

But above all he wanted her.

“But Hunter, I have to go back…” she started just as he knew she would.

“I know, I know,” he stammered, looking at the ground. “I know you do. I know you have a life back there. I know you have friends and your fathers and a future but I just… I needed to tell you. I know it’s crazy but I just needed to tell you or I’d regret it but Willow I just… can’t imagine the island without you.”

She smiled. “I have to go back,” she said again, scooting over to sit closer to him, reaching over to bring his face up to see hers. “To tell everyone how wonderful you really are.”

“What?”

“The emperor can’t keep spreading these lies about you,” she said softly, a few of his snakes nuzzling her hand to help express Hunter’s joy. “You’re not a monster and I won’t let him keep sending soldiers here to hurt you. All these statues, I know they were made out of fear. I know you would never try to hurt anyone. I know you’re kind, and sweet, and smart and me going back alive and unharmed will prove that. I need them to know you like I know you.”

I don’t care if they know me, he though. I only care if you do.

“And when I come back, I’ll bring you the sweet bread my dad makes and we can have a proper picnic when we watch the sunset and maybe figure out how-.”

“You’d come back?” He said breathlessly.

“Of course I will,” she said simply, scratching the closest snake to her on the top of its head. Will, she had said. Will, not would. A promise not a possibility. She didn’t even hesitate. “I’d miss you too much. All of you.”

“But why?” It would be easier to stay away, it would be understandable. He didn’t want it to be true so he wasn’t sure why he wanted her to put more thought into it. He just couldn’t understand how she could be so sure of him.

“Because I like you.” Again, she didn’t hesitate. She didn’t flinch. If she needed to lie she could’ve said anything, but Hunter knew she didn’t need or want to lie. She never had before.

“I… I like you too.” He said softly and the snakes hissed at him to speak up! They agreed! Say it again! Say it louder! Say it with confidence! “We uh, all like you.”

Her hand remained on the side of his face, her thumb gently brushing his cheek. She did this often, saying it help her memorize his features. The fact that she found them worth remembering made Hunter’s heart spin. He leaned into the touch and placed his hand over hers, intending to hold it there as long as she would allow. “So it’s settled then.”

He more than just liked her. He liked apples, he liked to read, but she was more than sustainably or a way to pass the time. She was his whole world.

“But what if they don’t let you come back?” He whispered, feeling unshed tears stinging his eyes. They had sent her here to die and when they saw she hadn’t, what would be next? Would she be celebrated? Would they send her to islands with more to fear to test her abilities? Would they deem her sentence unserved and try to kill her again? “W-what if they don’t believe you or what i-if they-.”

“Hey,” she cut him off and pressed her forehead to his. The snakes rested atop her head and by her checks, her calmness contagious. Their silence gave Hunter a moment of peace, a chance to focus on this moment with her. She was not worried. Somehow she was so sure of everything. She was so sure of him. She was so sure of this. “Have I ever lied to you?”

“No.”

“So when I say I’m coming back, I’m coming back,” she said with confidence. “I’m not gonna let the emperor or the rules or anyone stop me. I don’t know how they’ll respond but I have to try. You deserve that. But no matter what, I will be back with you.”

“I just… want to keep you safe.” He admitted, turning his head to the side to kiss her hand before bringing it down to their side. Their fingers danced together until they delicately intertwined as though they could not be kept apart. He knew she could take care of herself. He knew she was strong and tough and smart. But he also knew how cruel the outside world had been to her and he would do anything to ensure she was only treated the way she deserved to be treated for the rest of her days. He looked down at their hands, how they fit together so naturally. They shouldn’t work, but they did.

“You have,” she whispered, resting her nose beside his. He could feel her breath hovering across his lips. There was something else in her voice, as though he had done something else. As though she knew there was more he wanted and she was waiting and wanting to tell him he had that too.

This would not be his last night with her. They would have more long walks talking about nothing and everything. They would have more quiet evenings making up stories and blissful mornings gathering berries and finding reasons to be near each other. But there was something that a night like this inspired. Maybe it was the chatty snakes atop his head who had been constantly pleading with him to do all of this much sooner. But the sunset seemed to linger to offer them the ambience, as though telling the moon it could not come to open the gate until Willow had a farewell worth remembering. Until she knew exactly what she was returning to.

“I just… want to keep you… because…”

He didn’t give her a chance to ask for him to clarify as the small space between them vanished as his mouth covered hers. His other hand rose up to cup her cheek as he dared to repeatedly press his lips to hers. He wanted her to know it was purposeful. He wanted to give her the chance to pull away, but she seemed just as drawn to him as she titled her head to follow him as he moved.

Their lips had touched once before, after he had shown her the spot where the sunset was the brightest on the island. It has been only a moment and he had convinced himself it was accidental, that she had merely been trying to see him better.

But this, oh he knew what this was. He wanted her to know too. It was all the words he couldn’t say, that he didn’t know how to say, that hadn’t been invented yet. The snakes went crazy and hummed and hissed as they tried to process the emotions he felt. But it was too strong and too new and so they trusted him to sort it out for himself, not wanting to spoil anything. It was every time he wanted to be closer to her but walked away, it was a question and explanation all in one, it was natural and unnatural at the same time. His feelings for her were so simple, but that was what made them complicated. This was a goodbye and hello wrapped into one. This beautiful, building contradiction that she returned with vigor, reaching out to place her free hand on his waist to pull him closer.

“Well I guess I don’t have to leave right away,” she said softly as he pulled away for a brief moment to breathe. Her breathing was labored and her face was flushed as she let go of his hand to wrap her arm around her neck to bring him back down to her as she deepened the kiss. Hunter felt as though he was about to burst, feeling her lips form a smile against his. They were so soft and Hunter was so focused on how comfortable and warm he felt that he relaxed and crashed into her, nearly falling off the bench as Willow proceeded to kiss him with power and eagerness. But Hunter managed to steady them, not intending on letting clumsiness end the moment early as his whole world held him tightly.

He moved his arms to the small of her back, holding her just as tightly as he was convinced he was about to float away and only she could keep him bound to the earth. They both knew that her mission would not be simple, would not easy. They didn’t not know how long they would be apart. They didn’t know what trials awaited them. They only knew what they meant to each other, and they believed that this feeling was strong enough to endure anything and everything.

Willow let out a small laugh, and Hunter didn’t think much of it. He loved the sound of her laugh, the more of her that could be in the moment the better. But then her laugh became louder and a Hunter became worried he was doing something wrong. He had never kissed anyone before but he was fairly certain it wasn’t usually a laughing matter. As he slowly pulled away to see the cause, she followed him not wanting to leave the moment. She laughed again.

He looked and saw the source: the snakes were peppering her face with tiny kisses of their own.

“Sorry, hehe, it tickles,” she giggled as the snakes continued, much to his horror (though he could hardly blame them). But he quickly got over it, as the sight of her laughing in the rosy pink light of the setting sun drew him back in as he lunged forward to reunite their lips.

This time he did cause them to fall off the bench and Willow laughed as she was surrounded in affection. She hadn’t even left yet and already she missed him.

As Hunter and Willow continued to prolong their farewell, they didn’t notice the moon enter position. There was no urgency to act when it did, they had a few hours to seize it. But as the door opener slowly, three soldiers cautiously entered the domain. Swords at the ready, hearts determined, Luz, Amity and Gus walked forward to recuse their friend. A year of training had prepared them for anything, they had no idea what the monster was capable of. Luz scanned their surrounding when a familiar laugh made her cast her eyes down to the ground. She drew her sword and called to the others in panic.

“Oh my Titan, the monster is trying to eat Willow’s face!”

[fatallyfalling]

Strawberry Wine ~ 𖤓

“ safe & sound “

{{ Peeta Mellark Headcanons }}

warnings: mentions of alcohol, canon Hunger Games violence/trauma, wholesome fluff, etc.

{{ word count }} 487

{{ prompt }} fluffy headcanons for our beloved bread boy !!

{{ a/n }} this is short & sweet while i test out Peeta’s character! I’m not sure what i exactly want to write with him since i’ve adored everlark for forever but for now please enjoy my silly happy thoughts! Some of these i’ve heard around the internet i think but i can’t remember where :[

Peeta Mellark, the ashy blonde from District 12 who stole the hearts of the Capital with his charms and sweet, boyish nature while also managing to tame a stubborn Mockingjay - Katniss Everdeen, and poured out his heart and soul to get back to her any way he could.

- Peeta is a morning person. He'll get up early and have breakfast ready by the time Katniss pulls out of bed (she learns to sleep in post-rebellion).

- His favorite type of bread/pastry is croissants. The tedious labor of laminating the cold butter block into the fluffy dough is cathartic in a way.

- Once, he tried to teach Katniss to paint. Once. Her attempt at trees looked more like crazy brown and green spiders but he still kissed her temple and had the painting framed, much to the girl on fire's dismay.

- Peeta doesn't like hard liquor - he never did. Effie hooks him on a strawberry wine made special in what used to be District 11, he's gifted at least one bottle every birthday or holiday.

- He's such a housewife no questions asked, hands down. Hungry? He'll cook. Thirsty? Anything you want. This man has to be physically removed from the kitchen during friendly gatherings so he can actually relax and enjoy the company.

- Also, his Dad lore is insane.

(speaking to his kids when they're older) "Oh yeah, your Mom tried to kill me once. but it's okay I made it even the next year so we're good now."

"One time I almost got eaten by a monkey in a fight to the death."

"Another time I took a spontaneous road trip, got held hostage, and then led a rebellion to victory alongside your Mom."

- Peeta teaches himself guitar so he can play along while Katniss sings. His chords are wildly out of tune at first, but he gets it eventually.

- Peeta doesn't like store-bought bread, saying his homemade loaves taste better (they do).

- He's a hugger, every hello and goodbye is met by a bear hug. His hugs are amazing as well, nice and tight but also comforting and warm.

- For a while after the war Peeta kept a journal on his nightstand to record his dreams/nightmares. Even if the text turns out to be chicken scratch in the morning Katniss still helps him decipher and work through it to solidify reality.

“What does that say ?”

“Uh… I think… no - wait, I have no idea,”

- Effie and Peeta definitely have wine nights to talk about their scary guard dog partners and how much they love them.

- Speaking of paint - it’s everywhere, all the time, mainly his hands. Oil paint is next to impossible to clean so almost all of Peeta’s shirts have some amount of color speckled on the sleeves or the thighs of his pants.

- Peeta also keeps a cookie jar of homemade cookies in the kitchen, they’re replenished every week with regular flavor swaps.

{{ tags }}

[thestarcurse]

im baking cookies for my best friend and just had to stop and sit down and break down in tears because i just realized how important this is, not just to me or to them but to humanity and history. how many people have baked cookies and bread and sweets for their best friends and loved ones across human history. how many times has love and affection been transmuted into grain and syrup and puffy little pastries. how many bonds have formed by sharing this essential part of life with someone, not because it enhances our survival or makes us more efficient predators or some shit, but because we just felt like it, and we needed to feel? or fuck it, how many lives have been saved by a box of homemade cookies, or a cake made from scratch, or a casserole from an old family recipe? how much of the world has been saved because some ancient human decided to make a nice little treat for someone they loved?

i suddenly feel like im participating in a ritual older than spoken and written language, older than the concept of time or civilization, older than clothes or houses. i can feel the spirits of my oldest ancestors beside me, smiling at me, with their hands on top of my hands. they don't speak—they're older than language. but i feel what they felt at the dawn of time. i feel community. i feel togetherness. i feel love.

i think this is what it means to be human. to love, and to turn that love into something sweet.

[sunflowersteves]

just to see you smile || m.o.

pairing || Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

summary || as Spider-Man, Miguel was forced to be prepared for many situations, like multi-universal travel, but losing you and Gabriella wasn't one of them.

author's note || do i only know how to make angst for this man bc damn

warnings || grief, main character death (reader), heavy angst, some fluff, potential spoilers, gabriella isn't the reader's child, miguel is anti-therapist, non-canon (sorry miguel ik)

masterlist

“I thought I might find you here,” Peter says. Mayday makes grabby hands at Miguel beside her, little chubby fingers grabbing onto his soft sweater. Peter looked down, taking note of the fresh, bright marigold flowers and the sweet, sugary bread that sat on top of the gravestone. 

Miguel’s eyes closed—breathing in and out of his nose as if to control the space around him. It was getting harder and harder, though, as time passed on. 

It had officially been three years. One-thousand nine-hundred and five days.

Miguel didn’t say a single word. He just stared at the gravestone in front of him, hoping that Peter would leave. If Mayday wasn’t here, he definitely would have left by force, if needed. 

“C’mon, I’ve told you before.” Mayday giggled and babbled at her father’s words. “You need to talk to someone about this stuff.”

He paused, gauging Miguel’s softened expression on the engraved stone. “You already know the damage you’ve done—t-to Miles.”

This time, Miguel just scoffed. He turned to Peter, and his eyebrows furrowed at the sight of his friend. Miguel had large bags under his eyes and a familiar pain that was etched across his face—one that Peter knew too well. “Yes, I’m sure Ezekial Sims from Earth-616 will solve all of my problems and grant all of my wishes.”

Peter just sighed and subtly rolled his eyes. They stood in silence, with the occasional babble from Mayday. Peter, though, just continued to stare at the man in front of him. 

He was broken—pieces of him scattered across the memories of you and his daughter. It was all he seemed to think about in the shining sunlight or the dark, drastic moonlight. 

 “All I need is them, Pete.”

Peter nodded in understanding. He knew. He understood that kind of deep-set pain never went away, but Peter also knew that everything eventually got better. No, it wasn’t time. Time doesn’t heal all wounds, as the saying goes. 

Miles helped Peter. Miles dug Peter out from the sinking hole that he had been placed in by life and the atrocities that continued around him. It wasn’t time. It wasn’t sulking. It wasn’t crying in the shower.

It was Miles. The goofy, talented, and crazy smart kid made Peter realize he needed to take that leap of faith. He got therapy, cleaned himself up, and he got better. Honestly, for Miguel, Peter wasn’t sure the last time he saw the brooding man laugh—let alone smile at anyone or anything. 

What Peter didn’t know was that Miguel smiled quite often.

He smiled when he looked at the glass-shattered photo of you in his bedroom. He smiled at the video of you and his daughter making a mess in the kitchen. He smiled as he daydreams about what you would do if you saw him now with every single Spider-person in all of the universes. He smiled at the video he took of you on the beach with the sand scratching against your leg and wind blowing against your dress.

So in his defense, he smiles all the time. 

“C’mon, Miguel, stop!” You laughed. It was loud and boisterous against his ears, and he wanted to cherish the sound for all of eternity. 

He held onto you even tighter, the waves crashing up against his knees. His smile is bright—just as bright as yours. “I made a promise, pumpkin. If you don’t shout the words, I’ll drop you.”

You squealed in anticipation, and your hands only seemed to latch onto his shoulders even more. “date prisa ahora.” He whispers against your ear. You only seemed to grip onto him tighter, but your smile seemed even wider.

“Okay, okay!” You breathe, shoving your head into his neck. “Humph. Humph.” 

Miguel grinned. If you saw him now, you would see a certain teasing gleam in his eyes. “What was that? I can’t hear you, pumpkin.”

You screeched again in his arms as he faked a slip of your form. He was still grinning ear to ear, and he couldn’t get enough of the laughter that bubbled up around your protests to him.

Something deep and connected possessed his entire chest. He could feel that ounce of love that blossomed beneath his heart and prodded against his stomach.

“I love you!” You shouted. Some of the fellow vacationers along the beach had turned their heads at the booming sound. Miguel laughed—the sound rumbling against his chest, and it made you bounce in his arms. 

“Was that so hard?” His arms tightened around the underside of your neck and the other holding up your legs. He slowly, yet surely, backed up from the roaring ocean and cascading waves. 

“Extremely, and I’ll never say it again,” You teased. 

Miguel gasped in defense, placing a hand on his chest. Without the support, you shrieked and grabbed onto his shoulder. “Miguel!”

He shook his head, his smile only widening as he just couldn’t help it. “And just when I thought I was gonna say it right back, pumpkin.”

Miguel opened his eyes. Peter was still there with his daughter, which prompted a gut-punching sigh to release from his lips. He shook his head, desperately wanting the memory to no longer sear against his brain. He wanted it to be real.

“Just know you’re not alone, man.”

He nods. The pain of your passing. The ache of Gabriella’s passing. It was all becoming too much. He didn’t think it would hurt anybody, let alone the two of you. 

But he did. He really, really did. 

With that, Peter takes his leave. May had most likely needed a nap by now and was going to take her home to Mary Jane. He looked back one last time, and he swore he almost missed it.

A single tear slid down Miguel’s face as his eyes stayed locked onto the two headstones. It was as if his eyes couldn’t leave—like you and Gabi would be gone if he did. 

Ultimately, he knows he’s not alone. He’s never alone—not as long as yours and Gabriella’s memories are still etched into his brain.

He’s never alone. 

Miguel rubs his eyes, the sleep that hovered around them still prominent. He looked over to the bedside table to read the clock. 4:45 am. 

He heard a crash of pots and pans in the kitchen. A smile rose onto his face at the sound of laughter in the kitchen. He quietly puts on some pants that were discarded on the floor.

He then shuffles over to the door of the bedroom, and his feet pad against the wooded hallway. He hears another crash and then a gasp. His ears perch at the sound, and his shoulders tense—his mind thinking the worst. Then, his large frame sags in relief as he hears another fit of laughter and giggles. 

He finally makes his way into the kitchen, and it was a sight to be seen. Miguel leans on the doorframe while he watches you and his daughter. You two are covered in flour and sugar—from head to toe.

“Gabi!” You laughed, wiping some of the sticky dough from your cheek. She had just smeared some across your face in an attempt to get you back for getting chocolate on her arm.

“I got you!” She yells in glee. You laugh again at her antics and lean down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Yeah, kid. You definitely got me that time.”

Her eyes shine brightly up at you, and then they see the tall form in the corner of the kitchen. “Papa!” 

She runs over to him and crashes him into a hug. You turn around and smile at a very sleepy Miguel. You were tired too, but you also didn’t have a spider verse to run. 

“Gabi had insomnia again.” He nods in response. God, he was really tired. It was starting to become unbearable as his eyes slid close again. “Want to try a cookie?”

He decided right then and there. Fuck sleep. How the fuck could he say no to that?

Miguel blinked. He blinked once more. Before he knew it, tears cascaded down his face at the sweet memory of his family. 

He didn’t make a sound. He didn’t sob. He didn’t cry out. He just stood there and let the tears drip onto the grass. 

Miguel, you’re never alone. He reminds himself.

He is never alone.

[sugarverse]

vampire!girlfriend who is freezing to the touch, always shoving her hands under your shirt to ‘warm her hands up’. she'll faintly scratch your skin with long, manicured nails, hugging you close and listening to the beat of your heart as you talk about your day.

vampire!gf who asks you if her lipgloss/mascara is pretty or if it looks sloppy considering she can’t herself. trusting you’ll be truthful, letting you help her fix a part in her hair or adjust a ponytail to make the other. she couldn’t see her reflection in the mirror, but she could in her phone! although she'll still fake a need for help when she needs your attention.

vampire!gf who sleeps ALL day, trying to change her sleep schedule over to yours but always falling asleep cuddled next to you or in the amazing smell of your cologne in your bed. very few times has she been able to stay up until about 1pm with you. she woke up around 4 or 5pm on a regular basis. 

vampire!gf who finds dinner places for the two of you, wanting to always share at least two meals together every week. it was difficult, being nocturnal and wanted to talk to someone who was always asleep. she hated to make you stay up, but when you did? she made sure to spend every moment of it by your side.

vampire!gf who still eats garlic bread even though it makes her feel like a zombie, making you carry her around as she holds her stomach and whines “I just wanted a piece of breaaaad :(“

vampire!gf who calls you on facetime and tells you all about her night, sending cool pictures of the neon lights in the late city. watching you fall asleep and visiting a few 24 hour stores here and there that she frequented for food or fun trinkets with you in her pocket. she always finds little snacks or mini figures to leave around your place with little notes like “I love you honey!” or “u can do this!” 

vampire!gf who always stares at you with these siren eyes, often to turn you on just to smirk and claim it isn't on purpose but “I'll help you out anyway, since you think i'm so pretty.” dropping to her knees and pulling you out of your boxers eagerly. staring with eyes full of greed and lust.

vampire!gf who opens her mouth the way snakes do, being careful of her fangs before sliding you down her throat. eyes still staring up at you as she took you down her throat fully a few times. messy and slow, swirling her tongue around you. she takes your hand and places it on the back of her head to feel the way you gripped onto her roots, speeding up. she whined, using her hand to make up with what was 'too much.'

vampire!gf who teasingly sucks on your tip, drawing little hearts with her tongue. she craved you so much, batting pretty lashes up at you before feeling you shove her head to take you completely. sloppy, wet, gags came from her throat as you drug her along your cock. her eyes pricking with tears, nails tapped against your thighs happily. she bobbed her head back and forth even quicker when you say you'll finish in her mouth. 

vampire!gf who swallow happily, sitting on your shared bed and slowly pulling up her black skirt. you didn't forget she needed help too, right? her pretty burgundy nails tugging her panties to the side, pouting slightly. “you made my panties all wet..” she smirks as you climb on top of her, aligning yourself up to her. she wraps her legs around your waist to pull you closer once you're finally in, wrapping herself around you happily.

vampire!gf whos sweet moans ring in your ears, clawing at your back so deeply it draws blood. she laughs, licking off her nails and whining in your ear. “s-s-sooo..good-! ahh!~” she feels you flinch, bouncing her hips against yours to distract you from the pain of her nails. she leaves kisses all over your shoulders and neck with all of the appreciation she has for you. 

vampire!gf who always wraps her legs around you before you cum, mumbling very convincing words in your ear to “just put a baby in me already, please?” she squeals in happiness when you nod, holding your face and kissing you as if it's the last kiss she can ever give. vampire!gf who cleans you off, seeing blood still drip from your back and not resisting a few licks before kissing over the horrible marks. she laughs when you notice and kisses the nape of your neck. “if you'd let me bite you, wouldn't hurt so bad.” her long nails scratching at your scalp and kissing your cheek. “you could be with me forever ya knowwww..”

[onlyswan]

summary: in which cruel fate leads you and jungkook to bright places.

> fluff, a little twinge of angst? / wc: 4.2k

> warnings: none really. but if you’ve read the grocery store drabble, you really get lost in this one. hehe

note: oc!!! stop making him worry like this. cries in i love sweet boy jungkook sooo much. + i enjoyed writing this :[ <3 listened to cigs after sex while i was at it. and as you can tell i got very. carried away. scratches head. researching about pokemon bread was also kind of fun?

—

love is selfless— it’s what they often say. however, on his way home from work, jungkook finds himself admitting his ugly truth: he is selfish. when he arrives at your shared space, he will tangle his limbs with yours and let you drag him across the floor to wherever it is you need to go. he will hold on to you, and never let go. he will abandon the concept of time at the farthest corner of his mind, along with his exhaustive musings and responsibilities. instead, he will be consumed by you.

and sometimes, he finds that the telepathy connecting the two of you is baffling.

because he’s definitely not thinking about anything else but you. he’s scouring the entire apartment for any trace of life, but you’re nowhere to be found. the bed is still made. the bathroom lights are off. the pillows on the couch are organized. the center table is spotless. the kitchen is clean. he opens the trash bin, and the last thing tossed in there is still the egg tray he discarded this morning. he checks the laundry room, but the only clothes of yours in the laundry basket are from yesterday.

he ends up deciding that you’re not playing hide-and-seek with him like he originally thought. he sits on the counter top, anxiously playing with his lipring as he calls your number. again. and again. and again.

you did tell him earlier that you were going to visit the library, but it already closed an hour ago, so you should be home by now. moreover, if you were going to drop by other places, you would’ve updated him that you’d be home later at night. but you didn’t. the last text you sent him was a captured photo of page 73, an overview about thyme. you reminded him that he once mentioned that he wanted to grow some herbs in your balcony, so you’re doing some old-fashioned research about them in the library.

and thank heavens you answer the call on his fifth try, because he’s about to have a breakdown in the middle of your kitchen.

“jungkook!”

not to be dramatic, but if he was standing, his knees would’ve collapsed on the tiled floor at the sound of your voice. he swallows the lump in his throat, breathes deeply to unload the weight sitting on his chest.

“where are you?”

“oh, right! about that-” you chuckle nervously, and he can already imagine you tapping your foot against the floor. “wait. let me just-”

“how long? i can’t wait. i miss you. tell me where you are and i’ll pick you up.” he hops off the counter, making a beeline to the front door.

“yes, pick me up. please. i’m not sure where i am exactly but i just checked and my location is still turned on with you.”

oh shit. the location feature. why didn’t he think of that? and what do you mean by-

he pauses on his tracks, car keys back in his hand not even twenty minutes since he got off his car. “baby, how do you not know where you are?”

“uhm, i fell asleep in the bus . . . then i panicked and got off because i thought i missed my stop. but you’re not gonna believe what happened next!”

he squeezes his eyes shut, fingers massaging his temple because he has a bad feeling about this. “okay. try me.”

“i realized i actually got on the wrong bus. stupid, right?” you giggle through the phone speaker, and it’s both endearing and ridiculous that you can still laugh in this situation.

nevermind that, he’s just relieved that you’re safe.

“i walked for a while and found this convenience store with a charging station. i emptied my battery trying to book a taxi but none accepted me!”

your whiny voice makes him smile, although he looked forward to hearing it more when he planned to be disgustingly clingy and affectionate.

“i’ll go, baby. just wait for me there, okay?” he presses the down button, waiting for the elevator to arrive.

“okaaay.” you reply in a sing-song voice.

he puts you on speaker mode when he enters, checking on your location to see how far you’ve strayed from home. you got on the wrong bus. no mistake about that.

“you’re an hour and three minutes away.”

he hears you choke out a cough from the other line, most probably on a drink. “an hour?! by foot, right?”

“no,” he chuckles. late night drives with you aren’t new, so he doesn’t mind it one bit. “by car.”

silence fills the air for a few seconds. “then i’ll drive on the way back. i’m about to eat ramyeon so i’ll be energized!”

“let’s see if i get too tired to drive. just stay on the phone for me, okay?”

“wait- i’m hungry. need to go put hot water in my noodles. let’s switch to video call.”

when he accepts the video call, he’s greeted by the candy and chocolate shelf in landscape view. you probably propped up your phone on the charging station, so he adjusts his phone’s position to match yours. and you . . . are nowhere to be found. again.

he’s already driving out on the road when you appear on his screen. you smile at him, waving the chopsticks in your hand.

“i’ll do a live mukbang for you in a few minutes.”

he takes a brief glance, memorizing the way you look before reverting his attention to the road. a small smile grows on his face, a huge wave of love flooding his system. “you look so pretty today.”

“thank you. it took me thirty minutes to pick out my outfit.” you chirp happily before revealing the hand hidden behind your back, holding up a special item you stumbled upon during your little adventure. “look what i found! do you want it?”

“what is it?” he asks as he makes a turn.

“team rocket’s pokemon bread. it’s chocolate.” you inspect the bread again to confirm that you’re correct. “it’s the last one on the shelf so i just bought it.”

his eyes widen in surprise, lips forming an ‘o’. he personally knows many people who have been visiting stores until the late hours to buy them. it’s all the rage nowadays.

“oh? you actually found one?!”

“don’t you think fate led me here for this?” you gush excitedly.

he finally stops at a red light, taking a good look at you with fondness. “you’re giving it to me?”

“yes. enjoy it, okay? i walked in boots for this.” you point at the camera threateningly.

so adorable. he misses you so much.

he obediently crosses his fingers to forge a promise. “i won’t leave a single crumb uneaten.”

“good boy,” you poke the camera as if you’re booping his nose. “i left my food too long. i’ll go get my overcooked ramyeon now.”

you disappear again, and he resumes his journey leading to you. you return moments later, devouring a cup of ramyeon. you’re holding it with some tissue paper. you were never really good with touching hot things— you drop them without thinking twice . . . which is a health hazard.

and it stays like that for a little while. as jungkook drives, he looks at you and the navigation guide every now and then. just to make sure he’s turning to the correct lefts and rights as the voice says; and to give himself the assurance that you didn’t stray somewhere else again. you, on the other hand, is too focused on your food to give your boyfriend a smidge of attention. that’s how mukbang asmr is, right? only eating sounds?

the cashier is probably thinking of you funny for eating infront of your boyfriend via video call in a public place. you couldn’t care less. it’s been a long day, and staying still in this small corner of the earth feels oddly comforting.

you’re in the middle of sipping down the leftover broth at the bottom of the cup when you hear movement from the aisle behind you. being nosy as you are, you find yourself taking a peek. you take quick and light steps back to jungkook to tell him about what you saw.

“babe, they’re restocking the pokemon breads. i’m the only person left here.” you whisper with one hand covering your mouth from the side, as if you’re sharing a secret. “i’ll buy more.”

he unconsciously copies the gesture and the volume of your voice. “do they have the other flavors too?”

“yes. keep driving safe. be right back.”

you dash to the other aisle, and jungkook and the long row of kitkats play a staring contest in the middle of traffic yet again.

familiar with your nature, it is entertaining to watch you participate in the pokemon bread hunt out of the blue. very on-brand and-

“so competitive.” he laughs to himself.

—

“hi!” you beam at the camera, hugging the paper bag inhabited by your new prized possessions. “uh, we have eight in total. i bought one of each flavor so there’s two team rocket now. and three jigglypuff bread just because- um-”

jungkook stifles his laughter. oh, of course you did.

“it’s so cute. i couldn’t help myself.” you sigh, slightly feeling guilty. other people do hoard them and buy everything off the shelf, so you think about that to feel less bad about taking all the jigglypuffs.

fuck. if you’re being this cute over a jigglypuff bread, he might just have to join everyone and do convenience store raids, too.

“you’re kind for still leaving some. i saw a person in the internet buy all the pokemon breads in the store they went to.”

“right?! i saw that, too.” you exclaim, relieved that you had the same thought as him.

“did you get me my pikachu, though?”

“of course. pikachu must always be present!” you answer proudly as you unplug your phone after seeing that it’s already at 50%. “i’m getting bored here. there’s a thrift shop just beside this, so i’ll go see if they’re still opened.”

jungkook drums his fingers on the steering wheel, following a beat he’s making up on the spot. “alright. i’m only fifteen minutes away, so don’t go anywhere else.”

”yes, sir.”

“and don’t end the call.”

“i won’t. you’ll miss me.”

he clicks his tongue before sighing, expressing his frustrating sorrow. “i already do.”

—

the air from outside is warmer, and it engulfs you the second you pull the door open. it makes your skin feel sticky and uncomfortable. the thought of going back inside enters your mind, but the idea gets shot down immediately after. might get tempted to buy more bread.

the thrift shop heavily contrasts the vivid conveniece store. there is no door. racks of pre-loved clothing greet you by the entrance, leading to more of them inside. a lone warm lightbulb illuminates the cramped space, hanging in the middle of the dirty white ceiling. and the smell. oh, the smell— it causes nostalgia to rush throughout your body.

a woman emerges from the wooden counter. she’s in her 50s, if you had the guess. you make eye-contact, and her kind eyes eases your uncertainty about whether you’re allowed to enter or not.

“you can still look around if you want. i’m just cleaning before i close up.”

“oh, thank you!” you politely bow before approaching the long rack of shirts and long-sleeves against the wall. you’ve been eyeing them since the moment you arrived.

left with no other choice, you leave the paper bag of pokemon breads on the floor, under one of the racks. you carefully lean your phone against a shoe on the shelf above it, just a little higher than your eye-level. you smile unbeknownst to yourself. your jungkook looks extra handsome when driving. while he admittedly has a short attention span, he’s very focused on the road when he’s behind the wheel.

you’re already browsing through the clothes when he glances at his phone. he can only see half your face, but he also hears your fast hands pushing back the hanger of the ones that don’t capture your interest.

your love for shopping doubled when you entered a relationship with jungkook, because purchasing items you think he like or need also brings you an unexplainable joy. it’s not limited to clothes or accessories. for example, you bought him white and blue acrylic paint two months ago because you noticed that he used them all up for a project.

after more or less ten minutes, there are already two t-shirts and one sweater hanging on your forearm. one of the t-shirt is yours. it matches with one of your trousers that you barely wear.

you’ve walked past the camera frame when you stumble upon a black bomber jacket, looking so cool and brand-new, which explains why it’s a bit on the pricier side. and you know jungkook has a lot of other black jackets back at home, but you just can’t help yourself because it reminds you so much of him.

it’s so jungkook. you can’t allow it to live in another person’s closet.

you approach the counter with the clothes you picked out. the woman halts her sweeping outside, leaving the broom against the wall before wiping her hands on her long skirt, the floral print noticeably faded with time. you hastily grab the belongings you left unattended, putting your phone’s microphone on mute to keep your little surprise.

there’s no paper bills left in your wallet after spending all your money on food and clothes. with a grimace, you drop it inside your bag. you were only supposed to go to the library today, spend a little money on bus fare and lunch. perhaps, spontaneously add in a little snack in between. however, this is called spontaneity out of hand.

“are these for your boyfriend’s birthday?” the woman asks in a hushed, yet teasing, voice as she folds up the jacket.

two pairs of eyes fall on the phone you’re holding, and you smile sheepishly. “i’m trying to make everyday his birthday.”

“he’s very handsome. you better take good care of him!”

you cover your face in embarrassment, silently laughing. “we take good care of each other! he’s coming to pick me up because i couldn’t find a taxi.”

“oh dear, are you new here?” she stuffs the jacket in the big plastic bag, along with the other clothes you bought. “there’s barely any taxis here after 9pm. everyone just walks. many complaints about it, but good exercise for my rusty bones when they ask me.”

“i’ll keep that in mind for next time.” you wrap your left arm around the bag of clothes, sliding it off the counter until you’re carrying its full weight. “thank you again. have a great night! and stay healthy!”

you stumble on the single step leading outside because the weight of the breads and clothes are unbalanced. thankfully, you make it out of the shop without a scratch. the woman bids you a safe trip and picks up the broom, the melancholia of night-time quietness blanketing her home once again.

you look down at your phone to find that the video call with jungkook has ended, but before you can question him, a familiar voice sings your name from a close distance.

“jungkook!” you call out to him, crossing the distance between you in high spirits. “you really came for me!”

jungkook shakes his head in disbelief. “you really thought i’d leave you here stranded? you always make me worried.”

“i never do it on purpose.” you frown, shoulders sagged with guilt.

“that makes it more worrisome.” he breathes out a sigh. “come here. i missed you.”

“i want to hug you, but my hands are full.”

he takes a step forward and wraps his arms around you, squeezing you in a tight embrace. he feels you give a chaste kiss to his jaw before leaning your cheek on his shoulder, and just like that, his anxiety melts away. your favorite perfume invades his sense of smell. as a person with a sensitive nose, many perfumes often give him a headache. he is in love with yours. it’s sweet and subtle; it feels like coming home.

“i was so excited to come home but you weren’t there.”

“i’m sorry for always making you worry. i’ll be more mindful next time.” you apologize to him with a kiss on the cheek, and you feel it rise against your lips when he smiles. “oh no, wait. the bread- they’re going to get all mushed up.”

he reluctantly untangles himself from you, taking away the heavy load you’re carrying without you having to ask. this is when you swiftly snatch the car keys from his hand.

“i want to drive this time.”

he breathes out a sigh of relief. “oh my god, thank you. i’m getting sleepy.”

—

it’s impossible not to quickly look over to the passenger seat when a bright flash fills the vehicle. surprise, surprise! instead of sleeping, jungkook is taking pictures of the packs of pokemon bread he eagerly arranged on his lap.

“that flash is brighter than the sun.”

he throws a thumbs-up with an overly enthusiastic voice. “samsung!”

you swear, every chance he gets he promotes thei-

“don’t you dare steal my jigglypuff.”

he raises his arms in surrender, making balloons with his cheeks. “i just didn’t know they were strawberry flavored. i’m tasting team rocket’s chocolate rolls first. namjoon-hyung likes it.”

he carefully tears it from the other side to keep team rocket’s image unharmed. he takes a bite from the choco roll, and feeds the remaining half to you.

“mhmmm.” he hums, eyebrows furrowed in sheer delight. “it’s so good? i’m glad you bought another.”

he divides another roll in the middle. he munches on his share as he waits for you to finish your first bite. while he does as such, he suddenly perks up when he remembers the story he was supposed to tell you.

“i saw a group of guys enter the convenience store when i arrived earlier. they were looking for pokemon bread, too.”

“how’d you know?”

“i heard one of them say ‘this one better have the gastly bread or i will cry.’” he imitates the stranger’s deep voice speaking in a whiny manner. “it was funny.”

“then he’s probably on his way home crying now.” your giggles create a harmony.

that store did not have gastly bread, unfortunately.

—

“moment of truth.”

jungkook locates the pokemon sticker after you finish the rest of the bread. you wait with bated breath as he unveils the first out of eight stickers.

he gasps as he comes face-to-face with- “it’s snorlax! number 143 . . . 143.” he freezes as he scans his memory for the special meaning of the number code. “doesn’t that mean ‘i love you’?”

“it does,” you confirm with a grin. “i told you it was fate! isn’t it the best love confession?”

while living with you is a type of intimacy he values greatly, and protects everyday, getting lost in unfamiliar places with you has a charm of its own. it’s one of the days when he allows himself to say: jungkook, you lived well today.

he presses the sticker on your cheek, giving you a kiss through snorlax. “i love you, too.”

—

“since we can’t finish all these bread tonight, we’ll open the rest tomorrow.” jungkook announces as he sets down the plastic bag on the floor. in the meantime, snorlax is kept in his wallet for safety purposes.

he carries the clothes to his lap next, curious eyes and curious hands taking out the items one by one. he squeaks a sound of amazement. “you found quite a lot in that shop.”

“they had a lot of good stuff. i got the dark green-ish shirt. the rest are for you.”

he holds the baby blue sweater by the shoulders, letting the rest of it unfold and hang suspended in the air. “this one is so pretty.”

“oh! i really like that one. might borrow it a lot.”

“you’d look pretty in it. especially in the winter.” he says fondly. the mental image of you wearing it surrounded by snow is making him miss the season that just passed.

you pout. “but i got it for you. so wear it more than me.”

“i will. i want to wear it to work right after laundry day.” you beam in contentment, and he pats your head appreciatively. “you’re so fucking cute, baby. thank you for buying it for me.”

the black jacket catches his attention next, and the galaxies in his eyes sparkle as he takes in its the details and overall appearance. “this is totally my style! how does it look so brand-new?”

“right? it’s a steal so i had to buy it!”

jungkook chews on his bottom lip, a conscious effort to restrain himself from attacking you with hugs and kisses. buying treats and gifts for each other on random days— it’s grown to be a second nature in your relationship. this is why you always go on trips on birthdays and anniversaries instead of buying big gifts. he loves that there’s no pressure, and the element of surprise never fades. he loves that he knows what you like, and you know what he likes. a huge part of what makes him who he is has permanently resided in who you are, and vice versa. he will carry you with him for the rest of his life, just like the food he learned to love because his childhood friend forced him to have a bite, and how he adds a bar on top of the letter J because it reminds him of the number 7.

so from now on, he will refuse to wear any other jacket but the one you bought him, and he will think of you every time the sky is baby blue.

“i think this is going to be one of those clothes i’d wear all the time. like the first sneakers you got me.”

“oh god,” you chuckle at the old memory. if people didn’t know he was rich, they would’ve thought he only had one pair of shoes. “you really wore those out.”

“that’s how much i loved it!”

“okay, but you need to wash it before wearing it.”

“i’ll wake up earlier to do laundry.” he starts planning out his day inside his head as he folds up the clothes to put back inside the bag. but then he traces his thoughts two hours backwards, and he is reminded physical affection he’s been craving the whole day.

“can we cuddle when we get home?”

“of course, my love.” you raise an eyebrow in question. “when do we not cuddle?”

“i just missed you a lot today.” he sighs, turning over to his side to look at you. perhaps, also to memorize the street lights reflecting on your face, and how your beige cardigan has slipped down your shoulder. oh, the urge to write a song at this magical moment.

“what’s wrong? did anything bad happen today?” pure concern adorns your voice. you hate it when he’s sad. so much. you want to shield him from everything bad in the world.

“nothing.” his face starts to feel flushed, one of the dead giveaways that he’s emotional. “i just love you, that’s all. you get it, right?”

you have never been more grateful to meet a light that just turned red.

you solely focus on him momentarily, combing his hair with your fingers because it always helps him to relax. “feeling a little overwhelmed, is that it?”

he only nods as a reply. he catches your hand in his to give your knuckles a kiss, plushy lips caressing the tough bones of your doting hand.

“we’re almost home. wanna cuddle in the bathtub?” you propose when you recognize the familiar scenery through his window. the promising comfort and safety of your home causes exhaustion to come crashing down on you. your muscles are suffering the consequences of your actions, and therefore, are asking for compensation.

jungkook seems to be relishing in the idea, doe eyes sparkling instead of shining with unshed tears. “please, that sounds nice. but i’m sorry for when i fall asleep in there.”

—

you laugh nervously as you enter your parking lot. you do have your license, but you don’t drive very often. maybe three times a month at most. you find driving to be energy consuming despite being seated, so you much prefer commuting because it also serves as your rest time before and after attending to your duties.

“i need to reverse park before we can get into the bathtub, so you have to help me.”

and yes, additionally, you just simply hate reverse parking with burning passion.

“why do you hate reverse parking so much?” your boyfriend asks out of curiosity.

good question.

“i know we have cameras now, but i’m still always scared of bumping into other cars.”

he flashes you his old-fashioned captivating smirk, resting his hand behind the driver’s seat. what makes it funnier is that you’re not even looking. you’re too preoccupied with finding your parking space.

he raises his eyebrows teasingly, doe eyes turning into small slits as they do when he’s playfully flirting. “you don’t have to be scared of such thing, baby. i’ll pay for the damages.”

“you’re jinxing it! i’ll definitely mess up that ferrari now!”

—

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