#sweet angel cinnamon roll too pure for this world

[ravinoforre]

A shitpostier version of this interaction:

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE TANJIRO KAMADO HEADCANONS

Don't get fooled by his innocent look because beneath that innocent pure cinnamon roll exterior lies a hidden side, a part of him that's obsessive, possessive and lovestruck to the core along with being completely DELUSIONAL to the point where he doesn't even feel like there's something wrong with his feelings. You need to hand it to him though, he's quite the dedicated one indeed and from the very moment your eyes met, he's already devoted his heart, mind and soul to you, his precious beloved. He views you as a precious innocent angel that needs to be kept safe from the toxicity and darkness of the world and he's more than happy to be your protector and provider

He's actually good at masking his real intentions and yandere tendencies for you. In fact, he hides it so well that people won't even realize from the first look that he's so obsessed and possessive of you but his sister Nezuko knows all about his obsessive feelings of love for you, yet she won't really do anything about it other than encouraging her dear brother to pursue the love of his life. Both siblings are delusional to the core and congratulations, you have his equally possessive and obsessive sister who wants to keep you safe for her brother's sake after you

He takes the role of your caretaker VERY seriously, he does not want your health deteriorating or you suffering from any complications. He's taken the time and liberty of stalking the living HELL out of you and when he found out about your irregular sleep schedule, needless to say he was less than pleased. He realizes you really aren't capable of taking care of yourself which fuels his desire to take care of you even more. He's like a fussy mother hen always concerned and worried for you whenever you get hurt even in the slightest. The other day you accidentally received a paper cut and he was tempted to ensure you stay away from paper completely as he kept fussing about your little cut for hours and hours. He doesn't like seeing you in pain, when you're in pain, he's in pain. He feels like his heart is getting wrenched and someone dug a sharp blade into his heart, as an overwhelming amount of tender love and affections flows for you in his tender heart whenever you get hurt as he comforts you

He loves seeing that bright beautiful smile of yours and wants to ensure your happiness. With him. Where you belong. He'll buy small gifts for you such as your favorite flower, your favorite candy and such and give them to you with a sweet smile on his face, you won't even suspect how long he's stalked you for and how he's managed to find out these things without you ever telling them to him. He's very observant too and notices every single new detail about you. He can probably draw a freaking portrait of you with his eyes closed since he's memorized every inch and every part of your beautiful ethereal heavenly features. HIs mind is occupied with thoughts of you as he dreams about the happy and blissful life you both would have with each other after he brings you home with him and marries you

He's also quite the paranoid yandere, his fear of losing you to someone or losing you in a fight against a demon would send his concern and worry for you into overdrive and he feels the need to take you 'home' as in kidnap you, sooner than expected. Whatever do you want to be a Hashira for? There's no need for you to fight against those dangerous demons when he's around to take care of you and protect you. Your safety is of the utmost importance to him and that is something he will NOT compromise on at any cost. He admires your bravery and strength to save people but he doesn't want you facing the risk of you losing your life in the process. At times he might have to even keep you in the dark regarding a few missions but it's all for your own good in his opinion

He's good at masking his true intentions and feelings when he's around you and other people. He might look calm and friendly and collected on the outside when you're speaking to your so called friends but he's SEETHING inside as he has a fake plastered smile on his face. His hand is just ITCHING to slap your friend and throttle them for daring to steal your attention away from him, he feels like they're doing it deliberately just to drive a wedge and distance you from him. Deep down he's slightly worried that your friend might charm you too much and steal you away from him which is something he cannot allow to happen. He might not resort to killing the person off, but the next time there's a demon around the area, Tanjiro might not be able to save your 'friend' in time. Of course you wouldn't know that he's also asked the demon to TARGET your friend but that's a different story altogether. The only person he trusts to be around you is Nezuko

His love for you is like a passionate growing flame and your every touch is like a drug he can't get enough of. He needs you, he wants you. He needs you in a way like a drowning man needing air, he feels like he wouldn't be able to live without you. His family was killed by Muzan and he can't afford to let you fall in danger as well, he can't lose you. You're his world, the light of his life, his SOULMATE. His feelings for you would just keep getting worse and worse and finally it would lead to him ending up kidnapping you at some point in the night when you're asleep in your house. You'll wake up in Tanjiro's house on a bed with Nezuko looking at you with a curious look as she lets out a happy noise that you're awake and she'll alert her brother. "Oh, good morning darling, how did you sleep?" asked Tanjiro as you stared at him and blinked in disbelief, unable to comprehend what the hell was even going on at the moment. When you asked Tanjiro what was going on, he just let out a soft smile and told you the truth of how he took you in the night for himself and how he was going to protect you. Please don't scream or cry, he'll feel sad and he feels a sharp pang of hurt in his chest to see you upset. He doesn't like seeing you sad. He knows it's a big change and you'll need some time to adjust, he's understanding and willing to let you take as much time as you need to adjust to your new life and your new home with him and his sister. But one thing is for sure, he does NOT feel guilty at all, not even a single ounce of remorse because the way he sees it, he's keeping you safe. He's protecting you, that's what he tells himself every time and that opinion of his clouded his sense of rationality. Is it so wrong to protect someone you love?

There's no point in escaping from him, he'll just track you down and bring you back to the house. Scream, cry and insult him as much as you want, he'll just put you down on the couch and check you for injuries. He feels like the reason you ran away from him is because you didn't feel loved enough from him and he didn't shower you with love before but don't worry, he'll smother you with his affection now and cling to you like moss below a rock you'll barely have any time for yourself. Nezuko might like your head pats and likes hugging you but she wants her brother to be happy too which is why she'll side with him no matter what and prevent any means of you escaping from them. She likes it when you braid her hair and Tanjiro has a soft smile when he sees you and his sister interact with each other which is an adorable scene in his eyes

You're not to step into the kitchen for cooking either, the house is most probably baby proofed as well. He just doesn't want you getting hurt, the kitchen is a dangerous place, he doesn't want you cutting yourself accidentally with one of those sharp knives or burning yourself with the stove. He'll cook for you instead, you don't need to lift a finger when you're with him. Just let him take care of you and spoil you

[angelhareincorrectquotes]

Francis: I’m sorry. Please talk to me.

Gabby:

Francis: Hello? World’s most amazing angel?? Sweet pea? Precious cinnamon roll that’s too good for this world, too pure?

Gabby: 'Sorry' doesn’t bring back my fucking M&Ms.

[tsumuuu]

𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃 𝓇𝑜𝓁𝓁 - 𝒜𝓉𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓊 𝑀𝒾𝓎𝒶

hey guys!! sorry for not updating in a while, I was in a pretty bad mental state and I needed to get that out so I wrote a fanfic about something I needed to vent about! I will get back to doing requests soon!

word count: 2.0k

notes: gaslighting, manipulation, and a tiny bit of violence near the end. Vent fic!

You loved him, you really did. You would do anything for him, but here he is standing here, admitting to cheating on you, telling you that you meant nothing to him. You were just another  fuck-buddy to him. Just another girl in his life whos coming and going, like a leaf blowing in the wind; he’s leaving your life.

You’re currently on your hands and knees, while he’s standing straight. They victor and the loser.

“You’re too naive (y/n)” Atsumu looks at you with an emotionless gaze, it’s not like he gave a shit about you anymore. Your feelings dont matter.

love, what is love really?

It’s a cold winter day, you and Atsumu are sitting in his house drinking hot chocolate and looking out the window. It’s snowing outside, like a canvas painted white. The house is dead silent, it’s just you and him in the house, nobody else is home, not even his gray-haired twin.

“Hey ‘Tsumu?” you let out while looking out the window, to a view of pure white. 

“Yes, darlin’? He replies back almost instantly to you.

“Let’s go make snow angels!” you say excitingly to the love of your life. You turn you head toward him showing him you’re huge smile.

He looks at you with those beautiful brown eyes of his. The ones that you fell in love with, the ones you could stare at for hours without looking away.

“Of course darlin’, lets’s go outside and make some snow angels!” he smiles back to you and he puts his hand out in front of you, for you to grab.

You grab his hand, his hand is so much bigger than yours. They’re incredibly plush as well. You’d expect them to be beat up because he is a volleyboy player after all.

As you make it to the front door and put on your coat in boots you look at the love of your life, he’s yours and you are his. 

Next, thing you know is that you’re out the front door and on the snow with your lover making snow angels on the freshly planted snow.

“You’re my cinnamon roll ‘Tsumu.” you blurt out as you’re on the ground looking up at white sky.

“A cinnamon roll? Why’s that darlin’?” he adds on to your statement as he as well in on the ground lookup up at the white sky.

You think of why you would call him a cinnamon roll. Is it his warm hugs, or cinnamon like smell? Maybe even both.

“Because you smell and are warm like a  freshly baked cinnamon roll!” you say as you let big smile.

“Well then yer ma blueberry!” The love of your life says back to you as he also looks up at the pure white sky.

As he called you a “blueberry” you sit up off the plush snow, and look at him. He’s still sprawled on the ground, arms and legs spread. 

“Your blueberry? Why specifically a blueberry?” you questioned the blonde setter who is still looking up at the white sky.

“Because you’re sweet…” he says as get gets up off the ground, “sweet like a blueberry!” he then proceeds to tackle hug you to the ground on the plush snow, while planting many kisses on you.

You let out a squeal at the amount of affection your lover was giving you.

His blueberry, you didn’t mind it.

“Did I truly mean nothing to you ‘Tsumu? Was i just some game to you? Someone to dump all your problems and feeling on and leave to rot?” you scream back at him, he did mean the world to you, he was your everything. After all, he always told you how much meant to him, and that he would be nothing without you.

problems, everyone has those… 

It was a winter afternoon, you and Atsumu were currently in a fight over the way you were treating him. Every single fight you two got in, you were the one at fault. It only worsened your mental health.

“(y/n) you don’t give a shit about me!” he yells at you.

But you do. You do care about him. He’s all you you think about day and night. 

“I do ‘Tsumu, i really do!” he yell back at you beloved boyfriend.

He when just stares at you with no emotion, he does this every time you fight with him. 

“Maybe if you would just change yourself for the better, none of thie would of happened.” Atsumu tell you as he’s walking away from the situation as if he didn't want to deal with you anymore

“‘Tsumu wait.” you say as you attempt to go after him.

“I currently don’t want to be around someone who is flawed. Just leave me alone (Y/n).” tell sternly tell you. As he walks away faster.

Your heart breaks at the statement Atsumu just made. There are flaws in every human, some more than others. 

Maybe you we’re the best at communicating your feelings but, you still undoubtedly loved him with all your heart.

Our relationship had problems, it doesn’t mean you didn’t care though.

I love you Atsumu Miya

“(y/n), you never gave a shit about me. It was always about how you felt. Never about me. I left you to start something with Shizuko. She’s everything that you aren’t.” He smirks at your limp body on the floor

This is a familiar feeling… The feeling of being stabbed through the heart…

“What about all the times you said I was your everything? What about about the memories we made together? Were they nothing to you Atsumu?!?” At this point it feels like the world is crashing down onto you. 

“I put my faith in you for the last time, I’m sorry to say darlin’ but that was the last thing holding everything bad back. I really did trust ya.” he simply tells you as he’s now walking away from the scene. To his new girlfriend Shizuko.

trust, what is trust?

It’s winter, you’re at your house and he’s at his house. You two are just talking. Suddenly Shizuko is brought up in the conversation. Usually this means you guys are talking about how much the both of you dislike seeing her and talking to her.

“Hey ‘Tsumu? That homewrecker Shizuko, you’re not friendly with her right?” You ask your boyfriend.

Shizuko is known for getting in-between people’s relationships as she has been the cause why Osamu and his ex-girlfriend broke up. She’s also known for going guy to guy begging them to choose her over their girlfriends. At this point, nobody with a brain likes her other than some of the few braindead friends she has.

“Well, blueberry, she asked me to go out with her today! I think i’m going to go.” he replies back 

Atsumu had just got back from nationals and the first thing he wants to do is hang out with Shizuko? 

“Atsumu… The first thing you want to do its hang out with Shizuko and not me?” you ask with a hint of sadness in your tone of voice.

“It’s just unfortunate timin’ darlin’, I would hang out with you but a lot of the volleyball team is going.” he replies back with an apologetic tone in his voice.

Is he truly sorry?

“Alright ‘Tsumu, you can go, have fun while you’re there” You tell him trying to sound happy so he isn’t suspicious. If this makes him happy, then so be it. You can manage!

As time goes on and you scroll on instagram, you see Shizuko has posted on her instagram. The pictures she had posted contained images of her and you boyfriend. One of them had her and your boyfriend holding hands, another had them hugging, and the final one had them playing a shooting game together. You felt left out. Betrayed even, Or was this just jealousy? Perhaps even hatred.

When Atsumu got home he explained how much of a blast he had playing billiards with the team and Shizuko. Also how he had won a rabbit plush for Shizuko. Things he had said he wanted to do with you. 

“We plan on going again on friday (y/n)!” Atsumu exciting tells you. More words that break your heart and more words that hurt your feelings.

“Hey, ‘Tsumu? Can I come along this time?” You ask him in a polite tone of voice.

He pauses for a bit, not responding to your question.

“Cinnamon roll? You add on to your previous question.

“Uh no, sorry. Shizuko doesn’t want you to go.” he replied back after what felt like forever.

You sit there, dumbfounded at what your boyfriend just said. Does he realize how much of a red flags that is? To have your boyfriend hang out with a known homewrecker? She destroyed the relationship between your own twin brother and his girlfriend, and you want to go somewhere with her?

“Look, ‘Tsumu, I’m not comfortable with you going.” You say, finally standing up for yourself for once. You usually dont argue back due to the fear of him leaving you.

“(y/n) that’s just unfair to me and really controlling.” he tells you also trying to clearly stand up for himself.

“Why hang out with Shizuko though?” you ask him on the verge of breaking down

“Because she’s a friend of mine.”

A friend? A friend of his. One that hurt his brother and he still considers her a friend? 

“What happened to not liking her?!?” 

“Oh! She turned out to be a pretty good person.” Atsumu tells you estatictally. As if the situation between her and his brother didnt happen at all.

“Well, ‘Tsumu, This is very unfair to me! I don’t feel comfortable with this an thats final!” You snap. You cant take anymore of this. You refuse to be left out again. 

“Whatever, I’m going to bed. Night (l-n)!” he hung up on you. How petty can he be?!? 

This is why you avoided arguments, this is why you hated them. Your boyfriend will always bring up some petty excuse to make you at fault, never validating your feelings, never once thinging about you when he claims he does. Can’t you be selfish for once? Can you? 

You love him though. Shouldn’t that be enough for you to be happy and satisfied with this relationship? You’d do anything for him, so let him go with Shizuko. You love to see him happy.

I love you Atsumu Miya. 

“Oh poor little (l/n)-san, how will you ever recover from this? Oh right! You’re a mental freak! You won’t recover.” Shizuko tells you while grabbing you face and laughing right at you. 

“Shizuko, you dirty little homewrecker!” you try standing up for yourself against Shizuko with no avail. She had slapped you right across the face.

“Me? The dirty one? You manipulated him. To add on to that you lied and controled him. If anyone is the dirty one, it’s you. Learn your place ya’ little slut!” she yells at you as she kicked you right in the stomach, landing a hard blow.

Now you’re on the ground, alone on the on the fluffy wet snow looking up at the cloudy sky.

Winter will eventually turn to spring, a start of a new season, a new fresh beginning for your third year. 

But the scent of the freshly baked cinnamon roll stays for awhile but, will blow away with the wind, becoming a new.

He was your cinnamon roll, and you were his blueberry.

The amount you loved him will never change.

 ©tsumuuu 2023

[helena-and-helena-meta]

Ozluminati Incorrect Quotes pt2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

James: "I'm sorry. Please talk to me."

Glynda:

James: "Hello? World's most amazing person?? Sweet pea? Precious cinnamon roll that's too good for this world, too pure?"

Glynda: "'Sorry' doesn't bring back my fucking M&Ms."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

James: "Hey guys, I found a spider. Cool little lad. Thanks for eating the mosquitos."

James: "Oh no, where did it go?"

Qrow: "JAMES WHAT THE FUCK?!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ozpin: "See, the problem is, James, you’re playing 3D chess. I’m playing 4D."

James: "I’m playing checkers. I don’t know what the fuck you’re playing."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Qrow: "Hey James, do you have any hobbies?"

James: "Swimming.."

Qrow: "Really? That’s cool. I never expected you to-"

James: "In a pool of self hatred and regret."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Qrow: "If you don't stop talking, I'm going to jump out of that window."

Ozpin: "...We're on the ground floor."

Qrow: "I know but I want a dramatic exit."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Glynda: "Unpopular opinion, not all dogs are good boys."

Qrow: "Blocked."

Glynda: "Sometimes, they’re good girls!"

Qrow: "UNBLOCKED!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ozpin: "Hey! Wanna hear a joke?"

Qrow: "Sure."

Ozpin: "Your life!"

Qrow: "Actually, my life isn’t a joke, jokes have meaning."

Ozpin: "Qrow, no."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Qrow: "Deep down, I'm sure I was always pretty okay with you."

James: "Thanks, Qrow!"

Qrow: "It wasn't a compliment, numbnuts."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Glynda: "I think my guardian angel drinks."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Glynda: "OKAY, YOU KNOW WHAT?! TIME OUT! GET ON TOP OF THE FRIDGE! GET UP THERE!"

Qrow: *Climbing* "THIS HOUSE IS A FUCKING NIGHTMARE!!!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Qrow: "How do you do that?"

Ozpin: "I'm fearless."

Glynda: "I saw you run from bees yesterday. You flailed around and tripped over a chair. It was both hysterical and sad.

Ozpin: I'm mostly fearless."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ozpin: "James isn’t answering his phone"

Glynda: "I’ll call."

Ozpin: "Qrow and I have both tried six times each, what makes you thi-"

James: "Hello?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ozpin: "Dammit, Qrow!"

James: "What?! It wasn’t me!"

Ozpin: "Sorry, force of habit. Dammit, Glynda!"

Glynda: "Not me either."

Ozpin: "Oh...Then who set the house on fire?"

James: *whistling as he leaves the kitchen*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Qrow: "We need to get through this locked door. James, give me your credit card."

James: "Here."

Qrow, pocketing it: "Thanks. Now, kick down the door."

[therichantsim]

On a scale of 1-10 (1 being irredeemable rotten garbage and 10 being too good for this world, too pure), how many cinnamon roll points do your OC(s) score? :>

Isaac Bishop Blackburn He is definitely irredeemable rotten garbage so I rate him 1.

Rashad Pratt and Trinity Blackburn These two are definitely racing neck and neck. However, occasionally they both have displayed some redeemable moments and qualities. So, I'll rate them 5 on a bad day and 6 on a good day.

Elijah King Blackburn Will somebody please tell this kid that his middle name doesn't make him the king of anything? Talk about spoiled and entitled or perhaps he's just a bit misunderstood? I'm still giving him the benefit of the doubt so 7.

Octavia Blackburn Lady O has had her moments but she's still generally a good person. She just has to occasionally eat her serving of humble pie. She means well though. So, I'm giving her 7.5.

Mama B. Hawthrone She keeps it 100 all day every day but she'll do anything for her family. Especially her grandbabies. Solid 8 although sometimes her real is too real.

Isaiah King Blackburn and Quinton Isaiah Blackburn These two are arguably my two favorite sims. Isaiah is the arch the story is built on and Quinton was the first sim whose character I fully flushed out. They are undeniably the good guys. Both are perfectly imperfect in the most sincere way possible but that being the case... I can only rate them at 9.

Violet Naomi Blackburn It doesn't get any sweeter than her. She is everything good. She sees the good in everybody and chooses to focus on that. She adores her brothers and she's daddy's perfect little angel. She respects and admires her mom's strength as the matriarch of the family. I rate my sweet little Vi pie with a 10.

This was fun thanks for the ask @someone-elsa

[hazbinextgeneration]

Hazbin Worlds Collide Ch30

(Mako/Velvet/Tristan and part by Palettepainter101 Maizy/Wild-Card/Angel-Cake/Gemstone/Hannibal/Queeny -me)

It was in that second Mako wished a black hole would swallow him.

The putrid smell hit him harder then a fucking truck! His nose and snout wrinkled in disgust at the vile new smell, brows furrowing in displeasure. God it smelt awful! Dare he say more bad then the last time Basil tried ‘cooking’ - if Mako could even call it that. What Basil has done was make some indescribable black burnt mess that tasted as if it was made of dirt and week old chicken!

In fact, at this new scent, Mako suddenly realised just how much he loved Coal’s cooking, and how much he missed it. Mako had never really given much gratitude for Coal’s cooking, often just giving a ‘thanks’ or ‘nice meal’. Mako wasn’t much of a picky eater, but he often found Coal’s hobby of baking sugary treats a bit silly (especially since he was working in the mafia with them for fuck sake)

But sweet Satan himself what Mako wouldn’t give to have one of his bloody honey glaze cinnamon rolls!

The large pot of doom was plonked down on the middle of the table with a heavy sigh form the little chef, before he shyly peered back to the others. Tristan, trying his best not to inhale through his nose, gestured stiffly to said pot “Everyone! Hannibal has made us a..” he regarded the pot “..Meal..”

Silence fell through the room, and everyone began to exchange discreet side ways glances, although no one needed to speak a work it was clear that their stomaches, where about it be thrown into a very awkward and bad situation.

“O-Oh!” Brinda, attempting to break the silence, let out a merry chuckle “I-Isn’t that just sweet! Eheh, right Velvet?” The orange cat gave her petrified looking friend a hearty nudge on her arm with her elbow. Velvet did nothing but let out a very light ‘uuh’ under her breath.

Brinda‘s large grin twitched, and she kicked Velvet under the table “RIGHT?” Velvet bit her lip, arms reaching to hold her shin, before she pulled a nervous grin and tried her best to look excited “Uh, Of course! Just wonderful!” Everyone in the room began to agree, nodding their heads in faked enthusiasm - perhaps a little too much enthusiasm

Thank whatever kind of guardian angels where watching over them (if demons even had guardian angels) but Hannibal seemed blissfully unaware, and beamed a bright grin - not the largest grin, but it was now more noticeable. “That’s great!” Before anyone could even begin to prepare themselves for this torture they’d have to endure, Hannibal has speedily placed a heaping portion of food in front of each of them “I-It’s Uh, a new recipe Ive been practising!” He beamed another bright smile, before sitting himself down at the table.

Everyone looked down at their food in pure fear, like at any given moment it would burst to life and eat their faces off! They felt kinda stupid, it was just food!..Very, VERY bad smelling food, but still!

And Mako, in his infinite wisdom, knew exactly what to do: “..I’m not eating this gar-“

BASH

Everything on the table jumped, as Velvet swiftly kicked her foot hard onto Mako’s leg, Mako was able to hold back the majority of his yelp. Biting his lip his hackles raised, and he leaned forward, resting his head on the table, before he began to bash his forehead into it. Everyone at the table blinked and looked around uneasily, all of course, except for Velvet and the young prince Wild-Card.

Velvet, had her sharp toothed Cheshire grin plastered across her face, sweating nervously and seeming to not notice Mako’s head bashing in the slightest - clearly she was guilty for the kick. And the young prince, well...he was trying his best to hold back his not so quite snickering, which was quickly silenced from a quick scowl from his lover.

“What Mako was GOING to say was that he would just LOVE-“ Velvet used her magic to push Mako’s bowl of food closer to him “To have first try of your delightful food!” She shot Mako her most smuggest grin, evil glint in her eye “Right?” Mako’s eye twitched, his face flushed red from anger as he let out a small growl, glaring daggers at the deer across from him.

“Really!!” Hannibal questioned excitedly, practically standing up in his seat as he looked to Mako with child like glee. Mako felt a pit in his stomach, that sneaky little tyrant spawn! She KNEW she had put him in a difficult spot! That sly little!- Mako wanted to say no, god he wanted too! Either he eats the food and suffers possibly never tasting food again, or having to suffer the wrath of everyone in the room for upsetting a stupid kid..the decision was harder then he thought.

...Grumbling Mako grabbed his bowl and yanked it towards him, all the while making dead eye contact with the deer across from him who was still smiling away. He’d show her! He’d proove to her he wasn’t some coward! Then SHE’D have to suffer just like him! Picking up his utensil Mako picked up some food..was it too late to back out?

Mako peered to his left, still seeing that Hannibal was looking at him, he could practically feel the excitement radiating off him...Mako looked back to the food and gave an uncomfortable grumble, he was missing Coal’s cooking more and more now

He suddenly lowered his untensil and quickly went to stand, sweat gathering at his brow “I need the bathroom-HRCK?!” A red magical hold surrounded the end of the fork, and before Mako could blink the fork and the horribly vile substance it held on the end was shoved into his mouth, throwing him off guard.

Mako felt like he was going to self implode, as the colour drained from his face

Everyone. Fell. Silent

“Here, PAL, let me help you with that.” Everyone of course, except Wild-Card.

Maizy face palmed and then sighed through her nose, before giving Wild-Card her most blankest, irritated, and most unamused face she could muster. Mako’s eyes where as wide as plates..and there was maybe a small tear forming in his eye, he felt like throwing up, god what in the ever loving fuck did this kid put in this food?!

“Uh...” Angel cake clapped a set of hands together, while the other pair gently patted Mako’s back, as if to say ‘your sacrifice shall always be remembered’ and ‘I’m so sorry for you’ “He loves it!” Angel-cake quickly blurred out, nudging Tristan besides her who quickly nodded along. Once again, their obvious lies were not seen by the young moth and even gave a small squeal of excitement “That’s great! I even made a dessert to go along with the meal!!” He looked around at everyone “Shall I go and-“

“NO!!”

Everyone yelled in unison, making Hannibal flinch.

“..What we meant to say was-“ Maizy tapped her staff three times on the floor, and in a poof, she was standing next to Hannibal. Leaning down to his height she smiled and gestured to the door “Why don’t you go and fetch Queeny to try some food! She’s been at that machine for quite a while now has she not?” Hannibal soon left the room, and once he had gone, Mako ripped the spoon from his mouth and starting coughing and wheezing - which Wild-Card obviously found very amusing.

Mako tore his small whiskey bottle out of his coat and downed the drink in less then 2 minutes, he gasped greedily for air, before he made a mad dash to the kitchen. “Oh dear..” Angel-Cake stood, and peered inside the kitchen cautiously, where Mako was leaning over the sink and drinking the tap water like he was about to keel over and faint from dehydration at any moment.

“BWAHAHAHA! THAT WAS HILARIOUS! PURE GOLD!!” The prince bashed his paw against the table, cracking up with laughter, despite everyone’s blank faces and cocked brows. The only other that seemed amused by the situation was Velvet, Who was giggling away behind her hand. “You two shouldn’t have done that..” Brinda pointed out, arms crossed and ears folded back to show her disapproval.

“Oh come now dear! You must admit that Mako deserved that!”

Brinda cocked her brow

“...Oh come now! Don’t tell me a teenie weenie part of you didn’t find that funny!”

Brinda sighed, shaking her head.

“Easy there Mak!” Angel-Cake patted the wolf’s back as he continued to chug down the tap water, he gasped and heaved over the sink, giving a sickly groan “Uh..you Okay?” The spider asked sheepishly, while at the same time preparing herself if Mako was going to suddenly try and leap at Wild-Card.

Mako gagged “I think I’m gonna be sick..”

As Mako’s stomach continued to suffer, Wild-Card has finally began to calm down. Velvet clapped her hands together, smiling at the prince “Splendid job deary! Such expert accuracy and devilish ness!” She held a hand to her chest, smiling smugly “Id say it could even rival my own chaotic-ness~”

Wild-Card, snickering a bit, pretended to give a bow and tipped an imaginary hat “Why thank you my lady!~”

The two snickered, while Maizy and Brinda exchanges unamused looks. Maizy made an ‘ahem’ noise, before she spoke “That wasn’t very wise of you.” Wild-cats made a ‘psh!’ noise paired with an eye roll “Oh come awn babe!” He jabbed a claw in the direction of the kitchen, where Mako made a sickly groan noise “It’s not like that bozo had it comin’! Sides..I coulda done worse.”

Maizy continued to look unimpressed “What would Aunt Charlie say?” She questioned, titling her head

“Oh Maizy dear-“ Velvet leaned over the table a bit, crossing her arms and raising a brow “It’s all harmless fun and games! Its not like Wild-Card tried to murder him!..And let’s face it dear, Mako was going to blankly walk out if Wild-Card hadn’t intervened.” She gave Wild-Cars a playful nudge, earning a chuckle

“That doesn’t mean what you did was right.” Brinda added, a rare tone of authority had grown in her voice and her face held a nasty scowl, the likes of which only Husk could love. Velvet, realising Brinda nor Maizy where amused, backed down, giving off a small huff as she leaned back in her chair.

“...I’m not apologising.” Wild-Card stated

“Agreed.” Velvet replied

Maizy face palmed and groaned “Remind me again how old you two are? Because you’re acting like k-“

SPLAT

Cream splattered everywhere, as a three layer dessert went flying across the room and landed dead in Wild-Card’s face. The prince blinked, face caked in frosting as heavy lumps dropped onto the table and floor. Maizy blinked, as did Brinda, clearly just as shocked

“HA! Take that that princey!” Mako said as he flipped him off with a middle fringed, still looking like he was about to faint at any moment. Wild-Card gave off a low growl, and before Maizy could intervene, Wild-Card grabbed his bowl of food and flung it at him. But Mako was faster, and he ducked before it could hit him

SPLAT

Sadly, that wasn’t the same for Angel-Cake. The horrid stew splattered all over her face and top of her dress, she peered down at her dress as thick blotchy mascara began to run down her cheeks...Her fists slowly clenched as she snapped her gaze to Wild-Card, her mothers famous glare adorning her face.

The prince gulped “...Oops.”

Angel cake growled, and without looking, grabbed the nearest plate of food from the counter and threw it at Wild-Card.

SPLAT

Only for it too land on Gemstone

“HEY!” She growled, whipping off the sticky food from her face and letting it fall to the floor with a heavy squelch sound “Uh, baby! Maybe you shouldn’t-“ too late, Gemstone hurled her drink at Angel-Cake, but with the food on her face her vision was affected, and it ended up colliding with Velvet.

SPLASH

“Ow!” Velvet rubbed her head where the glass had hit her, and gasped at the sight of the drink dripping and soaking her favourite suit. Her eye twitched, Static quickly growing round her, as the nearby ham radio began to randomly play.

In little time at all, a huge food fight had began, food flying from all directions as it decorated the floor and everyone in the room. All that is, except for Brinda and Maizy and Tristan, who where taking cover under the table. Tristan flicked some stew off his shoulder “Well..THIS isn’t how I expected this to go!” He said while gesturing to the chaos.

Maizy sighed “Agreed.”

“Well..” Brinda peered to Maizy “Can’t you do something? You’re the one with magic here!” Maizy hummed, tapping her chin “..Yes” she answered, before adding “But I need to concentrate! I can’t cast magic with all this ruckus! I’m not as powerful as my daddy just yet! I need to be able to focus-“

SPLAT

With a final clang of a plate dropping to the floor, the whole room fell silent once more. Brinda, Tristan and Maizy, all slowly emerged from under the table once they thought it was safe, and immediately, their eyes fell to the door, where everyone was looking...and they quickly understand why.

There, in the doorway, was Queeny. Face covered in a serving of Hannibal’s stew. She opened her eyes and blinked, and then observed the scene before her: with everyone looking dead at her with wide eyes, everyone either had their arm outstretched for throwing something, or had one arm over their shoulder as they prepared the throw something.

She hummed

“...Not quite what I expected to see.”

[erineverly]

“Cinnamon rolls with my favorite icing, the most gorgeous portrait in the whole universe and even a chocolate? All for me? Well, this is the best birthday ever!“ She declares truthfully, her sweet, babyish voice coming out a little higher than usual as she’s simply way too excited. “How do I thank you?” Thinking out loud, she leans over the plates and presses a quick kiss to his rosy cheek. Should she let him pick a fun activity for the day when Axl comes back? Take him to the movies? To his favorite restaurant? It might be her day, but he’s brought so much joy to her life that she refuses to miss any opportunity to spend time with him, to take him on an adventure and show him the world. “I love you, too, bubby. I love you so much. Both you and your daddy are the sweetest boys on the planet, sweeter than these cinnamon rolls even,” she muses with a warm smile, pressing another kiss to his cheek just because she can’t seem to get enough of him and he does have the most kissable face in the world. “You’re the best, Sebby.” It’s plain to see that both of her boys have put plenty of effort into making sure she gets to feel extra special today and it melts her heart. After all, Sebastian is still just a little boy and it’s pretty impressive how thoughtful he is, how he’s always trying to make others happy. What an angel. Pulling back, she can’t possibly refrain from gently tapping the tip of his nose. Gosh, and he’s the spitting image of his dad, even the way he blushes and gets all shy when someone compliments him. “Cheers, my little bunny,” she says with a soft giggle, watching the boy bite into the sweet bun. She picks up her own once again and bumps it gently against his, as if they were wine glasses, before sinking her teeth into it. White icing dribbles down the side of the roll and onto her fingers but she doesn’t seem to mind. It’s so delicious. “Huh? Where — Oh. Baby. It’s fine. I’m sure Beta knows —“ But before she can finish the sentence and stop her son from dropping everything and racing downstairs again, he’s already out the door. She playfully shakes her head as it seems like just yesterday he was learning how to walk, and now he’s running everywhere. Stifling a laugh as she takes another bite, she sometimes finds it hard to believe he’s real. He’s so adorable and his heart is so pure. She was polite when she was about his age, but she would never put down a cinnamon roll just to run downstairs and say thank you to anyone. Would Axl? She can’t help but wonder where this little angel gets all his cuteness from.

She’s tearing another piece of the cinnamon roll, fingers and lips sticky from licking off icing and munching on the sweet treat, when Sebastian comes busting through the door. Immediately, Erin’s loving gaze flickers away from the warm bun and focuses solely on the boy. Giggling at the dramatic entrance, the whole show he puts on for her, she thinks he could be an actor one day if he only wanted to because he does have some serious talent. “Oh, no! My poor, exhausted baby! Come to mommy. I’ll save you,” she offers, clasping a hand over her mouth to keep herself from laughing as she tries to play along. She can barely hold it all in, especially when he plops down on the bed and pretends to be dead with his eyes closed and tongue hanging out. “No! Not on my birthday! You can’t die on my birthday. I won’t allow this! I’ll bring you back!” She has to bite the inside of her lower lip to refrain from snickering as she leans down and begins to pepper soft kisses all over Sebastian’s warm face. Reaching for the paper towels that he so thoughtfully brought here a few minutes ago, she discreetly cleans her fingers before slipping them underneath his sweater and tickling his sides. It usually works on Axl and gets her whatever it is that she wants so she expects it to work on his best buddy, too. “My best friend can’t be dead on my birthday. Sebastian Rose has to live. Good thing I know all the magic tricks,” she says with a laugh, blowing a raspberry against her son’s squishy cheek.

rcsechild​:

“No.” The redhead replies truthfully, now feeling a little guilt for not saying thank you. “I will now though!” he peps, thinking he’ll fix it and say thank you, Beta even if that’s been hours ago. “To get toilet paper. And papers for his machine that prints things off.” he answers, he was practiced to say either one before his dad left but decides on both. “Yes, for cake! And presents!” And all of that attention you get on your birthday and getting to decorate a room in your favorite character. “Be back in a minute!” Yelling through the hallway, giggling to himself at the excitement bubbling back over in his system, running by Jesus on the wall, across the balcony and left hand flying up on the railing as he watches his step going down the stairs before hopping down the last one. Running through the white walled rooms, past the big living room, he zooms into the kitchen and stops at the front of the counter beside the stove top. Beta is outside cleaning the windows, she’s like that. If she isn’t working she’s losing her mind, she can’t stay idle for a second. Getting a clean plate out of the sink, he places it down and puts two cinnamon rolls him and Axl made. They’re fluffy, smeared in sweet icing, soft and fresh and homemade with clean ingredients they got from a recipe out of a cook book. He had one already but that was an hour ago, he can go for another as he adds him one to the plate. Putting the lid back onto the tray, Sebastian tears off paper towels and holds his plate while opening the fridge for a bottle of water. It isn’t fancy but he still is considerate that mom will need something to drink. Shutting the fridge door back with his backside, he quickly starts to walk back through the house and up the steps. Across the balcony, seeing Jesus, then eyes focusing on the open bedroom door he walks back through. “Okay, mommy. Here’s the breakfast. The real breakfast!” Placing the plate next to her and sitting the water on the nightstand, “Water is right here. See?” Looking back at her to see if she’s looking, pointing at the water on the nightstand before turning and climbing onto the bed. “Me and daddy made these.”

“Okay, you go do that and I’ll be waiting right here. Love you so much!” She coos in a sing-song voice that’s reserved solely for her little boy, grinning as she struggles to contain her excitement and keep herself from squealing. Everything Sebastian does is just so incredibly adorable and sweet that it’s a wonder her heart hasn’t turned into a puddle of mush yet. Pressing her lips together to stifle a giggle when she hears his footsteps echoing through the house, clearly picking up speed as they get farther and farther away from the bedroom, she stays right where she is for a moment longer, letting him get downstairs before she’s slowly pushing herself up. Tiptoeing soundlessly to the hallway and then to the top of the staircase, she wants to see what he plans on doing, but without getting caught and ruining the whole thing. She’s simply too curious and he always looks so insanely cute that she can’t help herself — she just has to take a little sneak peek. Careful as she makes sure to stay hidden, Erin keeps her gaze locked on Sebastian’s strawberry blonde hair until he’s completely out of sight and she has to return to the bedroom. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to her and Axl, their little miracle, and not a day goes by that she doesn’t thank God for this boy. Before getting back into bed and under the blankets, she picks up the edible part of her birthday gift and places it on the nightstand so that no one can accidentally sit on it. She makes herself comfortable, sitting criss-crossed with her back against the pillows, and patiently waits for her son to return.

“Oh, my — Is it really for me?” Erin could probably recognize the smell of cinnamon rolls anywhere as they’ve been her favorite snack ever since she was about Sebastian’s age, so it’s no surprise her eyes light up the second she sees the small redhead in the doorway, jaw dropping a little as she takes in what’s in his hands. If she was standing up, she’d be bouncing on the balls of her feet, but since she’s not, she has to restore to clasping her hands together and beaming. It has to be the cutest thing she’s ever seen, she thinks and wishes she could record him or at least take a picture to immortalize this moment. Her precious boy. “Cinnamon rolls? They’re my favorite! How did you know? And you made them with daddy from scratch? That’s so sweet of you. They smell so good and look absolutely amazing!” Like they came from a bakery, except better because these ones were made with a very special ingredient — love. They’re soft and fluffy, and topped with a thick layer of cream cheese icing, and as soon as they’re within her reach, she’s dipping a fingertip in the mouthwatering frosting. “This is the yummiest birthday present ever! Thank you so much, honeybun. You’re a real life angel,” she muses, licking her finger clean. It makes her stomach rumble, demanding more immediately, and coaxes a sheepish laugh out of her. “Did you hear that? I’m so hungry, but first I need to give the chef a big hug cause he did such an outstanding job!” Growing a little worried when the boy begins to climb up the bed, she sometimes forgets he’s no longer a tiny, clumsy toddler and has to remind herself that he can do this. She grabs him gently by the arm to try and help him, and also because she wants to pull him into a hug instantly. “That’s so thoughtful of you, Sebastian. Thank you, bubby. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she coos, glancing to the side at bottle of water on the nightstand before kissing his cheek. He’s so sweet, so selfless and incredibly considerate. Most adults aren’t half as thoughtful as her eight year old son. “What did I do to deserve you and daddy? My sweet boys,” she murmurs, pausing as she picks up one of the cinnamon rolls and takes a big bite. She closes her eyes and hums, covering her mouth with her hand as she mumbles, “mmm, tastes like Heaven.”

[vaguely-concerned]

*pointing a stern finger at marika and all the demigods as I take on the mantle of elden lord* I want you all to know I'm doing this for boc the seamster and not for any of you backstabbing bastards

[ichorai]

pearls and pastries ; j.jk

pairing ; pirate!jungkook x baker!reader (gender-neutral)

summary ; a crew of pirates have been pilfering your village for several weeks now and one particularly keen buccaneer has stopped by your bakery practically every visit; whether it be for the delectable pastries or for the sweet baker he's taken an interest to, jungkook couldn’t say. but there’s a catch - the baker doesn’t know that he’s a pirate.

themes ; fantasy, angst, fluff, pining, slight action, pirate au, baker au, medieval au

words ; 3.6k

warnings / includes ; descriptions of weaponry, stealing (from the rich), jungkook being a sad lovesick sap, pirate!bts, poetic sadness but when do i not do angst lmfao everything i touch turns into written sorrow </3

a/n ; written for the @ficscafe fic exchange event for @sunshinerainbowsbts !! i hope you like it <3 i'm definitely considering writing a part two to this :D

Jungkook wasn’t quite fond of parrots. Well, his mislike wasn’t necessarily directed towards the multi-hued rotund bird itself, but the fact that the wretched thing was squawking out a poor rendition of what Jungkook had announced earlier whilst clambering down the crow’s nest.

“I’m going to the bakery! I’m going to the bakery! I’m going to the bakery!” the winged devil screeched from atop Jimin’s shoulder, ruffling its bright feathers as if taunting him.

Shooting it the nastiest of scowls, Jungkook reached behind his head to untie the vermilion bandana holding his overgrown locks away from his narrowed eyes. “You better shut that bird up before I toss it to the sharks, Jimin.”

“If I let you do that, I’d also have to throw you overboard. The both of you are equally annoying,” the other pirate snorted in contempt, glancing up at his younger friend striding across the ship before moving his gaze back to the knapsack he was emptying for the pilfer. Out fell several empty bottles of rum, a few gold pieces glinting in the harsh midday sun, two jewel-encrusted daggers, and a worn eyepatch that suspiciously looked to be the same as the one Yoongi always wore over his left eye. “You seem to forget that we’re here to steal from the rich, not buy fancy breads! You’re lucky that Namjoon has half the decency not to kick you off the boat. Jin, however fond he is of you, still calls you a moocher.”

Rouge faintly dusted across Jungkook’s cheekbones as he coughed into his fist, lifting his shoulder in a half-shrug. “I steal stuff sometimes,” he muttered under his breath. It was useless to defend himself against someone who saw straight through him.

“Sometimes, my foot!” Jimin scoffed, hiking the bag over his shoulders. “Bringing back a goblet you found rolling down the street doesn’t count, you know that, right?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes to the cloudless sky, far too stubborn to admit that Jimin was right. With not another word, the young pirate clambered off of the large vessel and onto the rickety docks, grunting upon landing. It didn’t bother him much that Jimin was irked at his lack of contribution. They were rich enough as it is; what was the rush?

The air was tangy with sea salt and damp wood as he inhaled a deep breath, setting off for your bakery. Walking there took exactly three hundred and seventy two steps. Jungkook had memorized the shortest route to your little shop, mumbling the numbers under his breath with a growing grin blossoming across his lips. He subconsciously rolled the sleeves of his white tunic down, the fabric concealing the pirate tattoos inked all over his arms.

When the youthful sea wolf stepped foot into your store, a familiar chiming of the bell hooked atop the door echoed across the cream-walled room. At the reverberating sound, your head peeked out from the kitchen situated in the back. An illuminating beam danced on your features, eyes lighting up with mirth at the sight of Jungkook.

It made the muscle within his chest slam against his ribcage, desperate to be freed from its confines because it belonged to you, and only you. He wasn’t quite sure when the sudden fixation for the village baker his crew was stealing from started, but he had acclimated to his own change of heart by visiting you as often as he could.

“Fancy seeing you here today. Are you coming in or are you now my human door stopper?” Your heavenly voice floated towards Jungkook, snapping him out of his thoughts. Sheepish, he shuffled inside, engulfed by the warm scents of chocolate cakes, powdered pastries, caramelized fruits, and toasted almonds. His stomach gave an impatient snarl at the sight of tempting desserts. You had also walked to the front of the counter, dusting your flour covered hands on an apron. Some of the white powder had managed to smudge on your cheek, and Jungkook had to resist the urge to reach over and thumb it away.

“Hi,” he said with the brightest of grins. “I’ve missed you.”

At his bold statement, you suppressed a chortle. “I think you missed those chocolate cream puffs you like so much, not me. What’ve you been up to while you were gone?”

Jungkook hesitated at that. For the short amount of time he’d been visiting you, not once had he mustered the courage to tell you of his true origins. A savage pirate like him shouldn’t even be around the likes of you. You had no idea that he was part of the crew that was robbing your village, and the very thought of you finding out had him terrified. You were a taste of all the goodness in the world, and Jungkook was afraid you’d crumble into ash if he dared touch you. The sinner had no rights touching an angel, after all.

“Visiting family,” he hummed, quick to move on. If you noticed his strange demeanor, you didn’t say anything. For that, Jungkook was grateful. “I brought something for you.”

There was something about your smile that seemed to expel any and all feelings of gloom in a room. Jungkook was no exception to this feat, his knees almost buckling against the soft pink counters. He righted himself by leaning his elbows on top and propping his chin up with a palm. Gods, he didn’t know he was in this deep.

“Oh?” you set your hands on your hips, tilting your head to the side. “To what do I owe such pleasures?”

The corners of his eyes crinkled. “For those cream cheese tarts you made me last time I visited. Thought I’d repay you.” Whilst saying this, he used his free hand to reach into his back pocket, fishing out a string of authentic pearls, adorned with a glimmering clasp of gold the same hue as the sun.

Your smile melted into a confused pucker, brows knitting together in a muted painting of hesitance, yet you ogled the expensive necklace dangling by one of his spindly fingers nonetheless. Where on earth had he gotten such a valuable treasure? “But you already paid me with money. I really can’t take that, Jungkook.”

Disappointment was easily detected as he slanted his lips to the side. “Alright, then.” He tucked the pearls back into his pocket. It surprised you how easily he had complied.

The worrisome atmosphere was quick to dissolve when the bell jangled once more. A small child meandered in with a toothy beam, holding a small pouch of clattering coins in their palm. They were no taller than Jungkook’s midriff, and he liked it a little more than he should have watching a certain softness adorn your features at the sight of the kid.

“I recommend the cinnamon apple pie. Or maybe the brown sugar crepes if you’re looking for something sweeter,” Jungkook said, gesturing to the treat behind the display glass. The child angled their head to stare at the taller man with wonder. “Anything Y/N makes is to die for, though.”

The child excitedly babbled something in return, but you didn’t quite pick up what they had said. You were far too focused on Jungkook’s animated features when he kneeled down to point at some more desserts. Sure, he was a handsome man, you’ve known that since day one. You’ve never really looked at him in this light. It was as if he were carved from pure luminosity, whittled by the hand of the most skilled sculptor. Everything about him was practically perfect; the gentle slope of his nose, the angles of his raised eyebrows, the dappled rouge of his lips, the beauty marks mottling his dewy skin, the dangerous cuts of his jaw, the twinkle of gaiety you found in his irises. With the sunlight filtering through the windows, it basked Jungkook within a golden radiance, the shadows casted along his face only highlighting his best features, doing nothing to aid your fluttering pulse. Has he always been this beautiful?

“I’ll have a slice of apple pie!”

The sudden clinking of coins being dumped onto the counter snapped you out of your trance, and you kindly wrapped up what the child ordered and handed them the paper bag. Both you and Jungkook watched as they smiled in thanks and trotted out of the bakery. Curse his handsome physique.

A little flustered by your earlier thoughts, you busied your hands by sorting the coins the kid had coughed up. Jungkook, ever the kind soul, merely stood with you as you worked, engaging you in entertaining conversations to keep you occupied while your store was empty. Where did the sun go once it disappeared down the horizon? Why did everybody else seem to enjoy the bitter taste of coffee except him? Why did his heart beat so quickly when around you? The last question he couldn’t muster the courage to ask, and much to his perturbation, he already knew the answer. You enjoyed Jungkook’s company very much; to the point where you couldn’t quite remember what it was like before he had sauntered into your life.

Before the both of you knew it, the sun was already setting. Jungkook noticed the way you deflated just slightly when red kissed the sky. It was a telltale sign that Jungkook was long overdue to go back to his ship. Yoongi would have his ass if he was late again. The whole situation was ridiculous, really. He felt like a fairy tale princess running away from the ball before his clothes grew into tatters. Well, in his case, he supposed it’d be pirate-wear.

Your smile betrayed only the gentlest hint of disappointment as you thrusted a bag of warm cookies into his arms. “Take this for the road,” you had said.

And so Jungkook did, smiling like an idiot the whole way back. A part of him absentmindedly wondered what your face would look like when you noticed that he had left the pearls on the countertop for you.

The ship rocked as the young pirate scampered across the deck at a startling speed, flinging the doors to the cabins open. Six older pirates stared at his panting form, a few looking on with unsurprised indifference, most glaring at him in disappointment. Jimin merely stuck his tongue out, his childish way of saying I told you so. There was expectancy in the captain’s eyes, but it waned away at an instant upon seeing that Jungkook carried nothing of value. Namjoon pinched the space between his brows in mild frustration.

Stiffly, Jungkook jerked his arm to thrust the bag in his hand forward. “Cookie?” he asked. Nobody said anything. Jungkook slowly brought his appendage back down, guilt roiling in his abdomen. “I take it you guys don’t want the cookies?”

With a huff, Namjoon stalked forward. “Of course we want the cookies, give me that.” He snatched the bag out of Jungkook’s hands and tossed it to Taehyung, who caught it with eagerness vividly splayed across his ruffled features. “I do have to admit, we’re getting tired of you bringing back nothing but sweets every time we go on raids, Jungkook. C’mon, kid, this is a team effort here. Look, just today Yoongi managed to steal a dozen coffers from a nobleman. The least you can do is try.” True to the captain’s word, there was a mountain of chests and boxes full to the brim with gold coins and shimmering jewels piled to the side of the cabin.

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Jungkook nodded in understanding, though not without a miniscule frown twinging his lips. What was a pirate without his treasure, right?

Taking note of his glum demeanor, Namjoon clapped a hand to the younger man’s shoulder. “We’re not mad at you—”

Yoongi snorted at that.

“We just… want to help you help us,” Namjoon finished, ignoring the salty pirate’s quip from behind him.

The youngest man on deck raised his hand to his forehead in an awkward salute. “Yes cap’n!” Shame prowled within his chest; just thinking about the dishonor he brought to the pirate reputation by loitering in a bakery all day, ogling at sugary treats (and the sweet baker, but Jungkook digresses).

A part of him felt even worse knowing that he’d see you less and less, what with the other pirates breathing down his neck. He could only hope that you’d still look forward to his visits, though few and far in between.

Authentic bottles of expensive wines were shoved into his knapsack by Taehyung, lacing chains of aureate crammed into his hands by Hoseok, bars of cold silver wedged into the pits of his arms by Jimin, and more treasures thrown at the youngest pirate to hold as they lithely ran across the village. Being one of the stronger and more agile ones of the group had its downfalls, after all. He was being treated like a pack mule, hauling all the treasure for them. Not that he was going to complain; Jungkook knew that he deserved the rough-housing.

“Hold onto these for me, will you?” Yoongi gruffly uttered as he slid the thick hilts of gem-encrusted daggers into his belt. Jungkook complied hesitantly, but not without a suppressed groan of annoyance. “They’ll sell for more than a pretty penny, so don’t lose them.” The older pirate seemed to be in a grumpier than usual mood, considering he lost his eyepatch and the mottled scar crossing over his eye was on display for anybody to gawk at. It would’ve been worrying to Jungkook if he wasn’t aware of the fact that Jimin was merely prolonging his juvenile game of ‘keep away’, attempting to dance away from Yoongi’s inevitable wrath.

Perhaps being a pirate wasn’t his true calling, because Jungkook found that his mind kept wandering off to the matters at hand—running away from the guards. Though it was a relatively easy task (the guards were quite thick-headed in this village), he thought about the pretty plants dangling from the balconies of a building they jogged by, or the scents of exotic spices carried by the souq market not far from where they were. Most of all, much to his expectancy, his thoughts were centered around you. Had you gotten many customers for lunch rush? Were you lonely without him? How many times have you smiled today? Jungkook was all too fond of your smile.

Blinded by his unsaid affectionate ramblings, he only barely caught on to Namjoon’s quiet, “We shook the guards off for now. Be careful next time, Seokjin. The sun’s about to set soon; we should head back to the ship before it gets dark.”

Jungkook hissed out a small sigh of relief, bending over to catch his breath. Jogging across the village would have been no problem, but running with treasures twice his weight draped all over him was a different story.

When he righted himself back to standing, the sudden pit of shocked trepidation unfurled within his abdomen. There you were, beautiful as ever, but a terrifying sight to see. Normally you’d be the only person he would want to see, but as of this moment, you were the absolute last person he fancied bumping into.

Why now? He had the most rotten of luck.

Today you weren’t wearing your regular apron, but a pair of fitted grey trousers and a soft beige blouse far too large for you, hanging off of one of your shoulders as you cradled a basket of breads and cheeses and other groceries in your arms. It was a simple outfit, but one that made his heart clench nonetheless. The glinting of iridescent pearls draped over your décolletage had his breath stolen away from him as raw sentiment overtook his form. You were wearing the pearls he left for you and you never looked more beautiful. Jungkook, on the other hand, was clad in clothes that practically screamed pirate; a golden-clasped corset tightened about the small of his waist, a tattered white button-up tucked into his dark trousers, worn sea boots covering his feet. A large gun was also slung over the belt cinched around his hips, along with multiple daggers of the like, and not to mention all the riches and jewelry the other boys had thrown at him.

You couldn’t see him. No, it would absolutely ruin Jungkook.

Perhaps dropping everything he was holding in a panicked effort to dash away as quickly as he could was the worst possible thing he could have done to not warrant any attention.

The concerned and confused questions erupting from the other pirates as they whipped their heads towards their youngest comrade went completely ignored. He scampered away from them, lunging towards a shadowed alley and hiding behind a teetering pile of musty boxes. A stray cat nuzzled against his leg, but Jungkook merely shooed it away with a frustrated glare and not-so-subtle shushing gestures.

What a fool I am, the young buccaneer berated himself, pressing a knuckle against his temple in frustration. He waited for another minute, before slinking out from the shadows, peering around the corner to see if you were still there.

No sign of you. Relief seized his chest, but not without the gentlest flower of disappointment staining whatever solace he felt, a weed amongst the roses. Jungkook’s mind was still reeling from the fact that you were wearing his pearls.

Treading carefully, he strode out of the alley, turning the other direction before halting in his tracks completely. A queer, garbled noise tumbled past his lips.

It was you, a confused smile gracing your features, and all Jungkook could think about was how the sunlight was made for you, how you glowed in front of him, how he wanted to cradle you into his chest and murmur confessions of his pure, unadulterated love into your ear. But Jungkook didn’t do any of that. Instead, he merely stood there, as if he was imitating a statue in all of his pirate glory. Terrified, regretful, and ever so angry at himself.

Fate was a cruel game.

The pearls shone prettily on your skin. A reminder of the best mistake he’s ever made.

Your eyes had yet to wander down to fully take in his appearance, for your expression still held fondness for the man that’s visited your bakery so often, still having no idea that he was a filthy pirate, locked into his molten gaze. “I think you dropped something…?” The golden chains dangled loose between your fingers as you held them out to him. Jungkook didn’t take them, frozen on the spot.

It was as if he could pinpoint the exact moment you found out his true origins. Your brows furrowed upon seeing the weaponry strapped onto him, one of his pirate tattoos on display (Jungkook cursed himself for not thinking of rolling his sleeve back down), and the six other men watching in silent despondency behind them. You had always been a sharp one, far too smart for your own good.

Or, perhaps, it's always been obvious. Jungkook was only wishing for the impossible.

“You’re a pirate.”

The statement wedged a stake into his chest, splintering his heart into pieces. When you stepped away from him, confused horror marring your beautiful features, Jungkook knew that it was over.

He lost you.

A flurry of emotions, overwhelming and tumultuous, evidently took over you at his lack of denial. You looked to be just as heartbroken as he was.

“You’re a pirate,” you repeated, dazed. You wanted him to say something, anything. Much to his surprise, you didn’t sound angry. You took several steps back this time. The weight of pearls around your neck suddenly felt choking.

The sudden calling of his name had his head whipping around to look at his captain, watching the brutal exchange with gentle sternness. “We have to go.” The guards’ll be coming soon, no doubt.

Jungkook looked back to you, any and all words lodged in his throat. Despite the fear in your irises, a soft expression of acceptance folded over your visage, for under all his pirate exterior, he was still the same man that you thought so fondly of from your bakery. The look was short-lived however, quick to fade away when Jungkook reached out for you hesitantly. A part of him pondered how a simple baker managed to steal from the stealer. You had robbed him of his heart, and Jungkook didn’t even try to stop you.

Upon seeing you inch away in mortification at your new revelation, Jungkook retracted his arm and pursed his lips. The agony clawing at his stomach was begging to be set free. He wanted nothing more than to get onto his knees and plead for your forgiveness.

I’m sorry I lied. I���m sorry I’m not the man you thought I was. I’m sorry I fell in love with you.

His name came out again, this time from Yoongi. That meant it was serious.

“I’ll come back,” Jungkook said, tears rimming the bottom of his warm doe eyes. You watched him start to trek backwards. “I promise.” The words felt heavy on his tongue, like he was swallowing down a knot of thorned ivy.

Before you had the chance to say anything back, he was gone, bounding back to his ship with his comrades. Not long after, the distant barks of guards pursuing them rang throughout the village. You took that as your cue to leave. Swallowing down the urge to cry, you forced your eyes away.

You hoped he wouldn’t uphold his promise, for the both of your sakes.

[listentothisyoooh]

Stray Kids Headcanons; Stray Kids as Ateez ࿐

A/N: has this been done yet?!?!? I just wanted to see who each skz member would be in atz so this came to be! This is just my opinion- would love to hear urs ^^ (I'm practically passing out so this isn't proofread sorry .-.)

🐺 - Bangchan;

Kim Hongjoong

• The mighty leader of seven pieces of treasure

• The official dad

• The dorky caretaker of his boys

• Needs to get some sleep for the love of God

• Or at least leave that damn studio and get some vitamin D

• Works a little too hard

• Is absolutely untameable on stage

• Raps dangerously

• Can seem like a sex God if he intends to

• Is actually very soft, lovable, supportive and sweet

• Short

• Puts his family above anything

• Pulls off weird hair styles

• Deserves every ounce of love in this world

🐰 - Lee Know;

Kang Yeosang

• Beautiful

• No, ethereal

• An actual prince

• Behaves elegantly at times

• Turns into a savage old man at other times

• Tends to go unnoticed by fans at first, for whatever reason

• Dances like an actual God

• A tsundere

• Not very keen on skinship

• Loves fans way too much but shows it quite subtly, and in weird ways too

• Sweet voice

• Not many lines in songs

• Tears the stage off if you give him a chance

• Also deserves all the love.

🐰🐽 - Changbin;

Choi Jongho

• Buff

• Enchanting eyes

• Can look a bit intimidating

• But is actually the politest, sweetest, most lovable cutie ever.

• Voice of an angel

• Deliciously built thighs

• Tends to get messed around with a lot as a divine punishment for a sin he's never committed!

• Has soft, fluffy, messy bedhair in the morning

• Dresses quite simply

• His giggles are the reason why flowers bloom

• Earns respect for his manners and understanding

• Way too mature for his age, but also an idiot when the time comes

• Give him love and receive his loyalty.

🐭 - Hyunjin;

Park Seonghwa

• The all-too-powerful ace of the team

• A weapon of mass destruction on stage

• Gets literally possessed by Satan himself while performing

• Very, very polite when needed

• The type to have his loose sweatpants "accidentally" hang a little too low on his hips to show off his v-line

• Flirts with the fans in a very subtle/not subtle way

• Knows he's good-looking and does everything in his power to show it off

• Works very hard for his goals and his boys

• Can be quite reliable and supportive

• Not afraid to let his emotions show

• Makes sure his boys are alright but does so in a low-key way

• Overall, the best companion you could ask for in any given situation.

🐿 - Han;

Jung Wooyoung

• Loud

• Loud, loud, loud

• Laughs very easily

• Is in love with his fans and does his best to be the best they'd ask for

• Damn good at what he does

• Will own the stage with his charisma

• Is the little boy of the team

• Happy virus

• Makes jokes but judges everyone else's

• Too cute for anyone's health

• Makes everyone feel included

• Doesn't mind showing off at all

• Makes his attempts at looking good or sexy seem like they're not at all intentional

• Has the cutest bare face

• Should own everyone's heart.

🐣 - Felix;

Jeong Yunho

• Cinnamon roll

• Beautiful hands

• A more beautiful voice

• The softest creature to ever walk the earth

• Duality

• Can seem cold, powerful and ruthless on stage

• Dances too well

• His smile belongs in the sky right next to all the ethereal constellations

• Gets flustered very easily

• But can be quite a flirt

• Does too many goofy gestures

• His eyes shine like the reflection of the cresent moon on the rushing river

• Was most definitely born from an angel tear

• Makes you believe there is good in this world

• Pretty, narrow lips

• Tears up if anyone is crying

• Pure.

🐶 - Seungmin;

Song Mingi

• A whole fairy

• Quite tall between his teammates

• Way too innocent

• Genuine and true to his character

• Gets easily shocked or surprised by things/people

• Works very hard

• Has a hard time opening up to other's about the things he's going through and rathers just keep them to himself

• Conscious about his health

• Can surprise you on stage

• A very cute English speaker

• Quiet, compared to the rest of the boys

• But only because he doesn't think himself very good with words

• Reliable, even though he's young

• Gets weirdly childish sometimes

• And unlike others, doesn't get scolded for it

• Might seem distant/cold at first but has the warmest, biggest heart

• Eye-smile

• Also pure.

🦊 - I.N;

Choi San

• Shouldn't be allowed to do many things

• But gets away with them in some way.

• Stage presence

• The center of attention and innovation for their makeup artists

• Very cute

• Also eye-smile

• Built

• Sweet, unique voice

• Loved by his hyungs

• Gives his all for his profession and his goals and also his teammates'

• Doesn't really do weird things, they just automatically turn into cute things

• Should be kept on a short leash for the way he tends to behave on stage

• Has a contagious laugh and a cleansing giggle

• Has had his confidence boosted over the years

• Treasured by all.

[lunatriense]

What are your favorite Pyrrha ships and why?

Schneekos/North Pole

C'est magnifique. The OTP of OTPs, Pyrrha and Weiss are totally perfect for each other. They have a lot in common — they're both under a ton of pressure from without and within, to the extent that anything less than perfection is a failure. They're both constantly in the public eye, never able to really let down their guard. They're both sought after for their beauty and fame, and in Weiss' case fortune.

At the same time though, they have their differences. Aesthetically of course their colours are different, they fight in very different ways, and they have both the tall/short and athletic/slender dichotomies going. Pyrrha is gentle and rather quiet, while Weiss is bossy and insistent (but nevertheless caring). Despite sharing a lot with the public eye and such, Pyrrha comes from the common people and earned her fame entirely through her own talent and hard work whereas Weiss — albeit greatly talented and dedicated herself — was born into hers.

They just complement each other so well, with just the right amount of similarities and differences. They've been my top ship literally since the first time I saw them and show no sign of cooling off any time soon.

Pyrruby/Milk & Cereal

This gets some of the same points as Schneekos, with the size differences and whatnot, and some similarities in Pyrrha and Ruby both being prodigies, sharing the red colour in their designs, both being somewhat shy and socially awkward, and both having the self-sacrificing hero thing going on.

They're very cute together!

Pyrrha/Cinder

So first off, THIS IS ONLY FOR FANON, NON-MASS-MURDEROUS CINDER. I only ship show!Cinder with a slow and painful death. Okay, so with that out of the way...

Depending on the writer, this can be either enemies to lovers or rivals to lovers, but either way you have the sultry, dangerous one and the sweet, heroic one drawn, both great fighters, both determined in their own goals, inexorably drawn together by a powerful, primal attraction. Bonus points if the aura transfer goes through so they're each a half-Maiden and their souls are literally calling out to each other.

This is the sexy ship to beat. It even outdoes Schneekos on that point, but where Schneekos is super wholesome and healthy this one just drips angst and pain and poison.

Purrha

These two don't have much material to work with, but I think they could have a really great, interesting dynamic. You have Blake as the troubled girl with demons in her past who thinks she's too damaged and/or has done too much bad to deserve happiness, and Pyrrha as her angel that doesn't care about that and loves her just the same.

It's good stuff, just too bad there's not much out there for them.

Magnetic Attraction

This one's really cute, particularly for a revived Pyrrha. Two cinnamon rolls who've died and come back — nearly the only people in the world to have had that experience — just being there for each other, being adorable beacons of pure goodness.

[thebestpeoplearefree]

I️ will NEVER EVER EVER get tired of Taylor’s surprised face!

[timebird84]

🎄 PotO Advent Calendar 2020 🎄

By @paperandsong​

Feast Your Eyes

Gifted to @shinyfire-0​

Happy Christmas everyone!

     Christine rose from her bed long before sunrise and padded sleepily into the kitchen. She lit the oven and pulled down an old recipe book from a shelf. She cracked it open to a page marked with a red ribbon; recipes for Luciamorgon, written by the hand of Maman Valerius’ own mother, and brought from the old country long ago. Its tattered pages were heavy with the nostalgia of mornings past and the expectation that such traditions will go on forever. 

     She did not need the book; these were recipes written across her own heart. But she liked to trace the handwriting with her fingers, smudged with ancient butter and flour, and to stir up her own memories. She liked to think that her late mother had also woken up early on December thirteenths to pull out the same ingredients and to follow the same steps. The echo of this ritual was a comfort to her.

     She yawned as she set the kettle on the stove and pulled out the sugar, the butter, the flour, the yeast, the eggs, the milk. She reached far into the back of the pantry for a little bottle of saffron threads, neglected all year long until this dark morning. A sprinkle of cinnamon, a crush of cardamom. For the lussekatter buns, she steeped the saffron in milk, she kneaded the yellow dough, and shaped it into buttery swirled S shapes, pinned with currants on either end. She pressed an angel-shaped metal cutter over the thinly rolled pepparkakor dough, inhaling the ginger and clove with deep satisfaction. As the buns and biscuits baked in the oven she went back to her room to dress. 

     She struggled to pull her arms through the tight sleeves of the same white dress she had been made to wear since she was a just a girl. She had grown considerably in her bust and hips since it had first been made for her; she did not bother to try to button up the back. It was impossible. Maman Valerius knew it was impossible. But it so delighted her to see Christine wear that same dress, year after year, that she wouldn’t dream of complaining. She dutifully tied the red sash around her waist. The white of innocence, the red of martyrdom. 

     Just moments before dawn, Christine arranged the cat-eyed lussekatter and angel-shaped pepparkakor on a tray along with two cups of coffee with milk, and a small lit candle. She lit another four white candles and carefully set them in the wreath of evergreen she had woven the day before. She settled the glowing crown into her halo of loose and unruly hair. She delicately lifted the tray, careful not to tip her flaming head too far forward. She glided across the floor as lightly as a snowdrift, making her way to Maman’s room. She stood outside the door and sang, 

 Natten går tunga fjät rund gård och stuva; 

Night walks with a heavy step round yard and hearth;

      She nudged the door open with her elbow. The dim room filled with candlelight as she entered. There was Maman, sitting up in her bed, her long white braid hanging over her shoulder. She was waiting eagerly for this blazing vision of Christine. 

 Kring jord, som sol förlät, skuggorna ruva;

Around the earth, forlorn by the sun, shadows are brooding;

      The old woman clasped her hands together, her eyes glistening with tears. 

“Oh, Christine! You are an angel - truly, an angel shining on me from heaven!”

     Christine continued to sing, her voice high and sweet, as she used to sing when she was only a girl,

 Då i vårt mörka hus, stiger med tända ljus, Sankta Lucia, Sankta Lucia!

But there in our dark house, arising with her burning candles, Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia!

      She slowly walked towards the bed, allowing Maman to take in the holy sight of her. With each dazzling step she drove all darkness from the room. Truly, Christine was the daughter Maman had never had. And she had played this role of Lucia bride far longer than any other daughter would have tolerated. Perhaps somewhere in her heart, Christine knew this would be the last year. 

     She set the tray carefully on the bed. Maman pushed back the blankets and patted the place beside her. Christine first took off the candle crown and set it on the small table near the window. They had a laugh remembering the time several years ago when Christine’s hair had caught fire after wearing the wreath for too long. It took days to scratch out the melted wax from her scalp.

“Thank you, my child,” Maman said, nibbling on a lussekatter. “You are so good to me.” “It is you that are good to me,” Christine responded, kissing the old woman on the cheek. Tears rolled slowly down her wrinkled skin. “Maman! Don’t cry.”

“It is just - I can almost feel them with us. My dear husband, your dearest father.” “I know. I can feel them too.”

     Maman rubbed her eyes and shook her head with a sigh.

“It is almost seven-thirty! Shouldn’t you be leaving for the Opera soon? Won’t you miss your voice lesson? Won’t your teacher scold you?” She said ‘teacher’ with a knowing glance that made Christine's heart tighten in her chest. They both knew he was no mere teacher.     Christine blushed.

“I told him that I would miss my lesson today. You have me for the whole morning.” 

“Oh, I am sure he was not pleased to hear it!” “Why, Maman, he was very understanding. He finds it good and proper that a daughter should tend to her mother on this, the Feast of Saint Lucia.”

“It is a good and a proper thing, my child. The Angel of Music knows these things. Shall I read from my book? Hand it to me, if you will.”

     Christine went and found the ornately illustrated book of the lives of the saints, also brought over from the old country. Maman turned to the story of Saint Lucia and read aloud, as she did every year. Christine took a mouthful of pepparkakor and nestled deeper into her place in the bed. She tried to keep her eyes away from the brightly colored image of Lucia carrying her own eyes on a silver platter. 

      During the Diocletian persecution of the good Christians, there was a maiden of Syracuse by the name of Lucia. Even as a young girl, the light of Christ shined brightly within her. 

     As Lucia’s father had perished years before, the two women were alone and vulnerable in the world. Despite her faith, Eutychia arranged for Lucia to marry into a wealthy pagan family. Lucia wept with grief. No, mother, she cried. Let my dowry be distributed among the poor. I shall never marry here on earth for I am the bride of Christ and my husband awaits me there. Reluctantly, Eutychia agreed, for she could see the light that shined within her daughter. She gave Lucia her dowry, a host of riches and jewels. The maiden took to visiting the prison in the dark, to bring food and comfort to the men that languished there. She wore a crown of candles upon her head so that she might see through the darkness and keep her hands free to fill with alms.

     But gossip reached the ears of her jilted betrothed. He was told that Lucia had broken their engagement because she had found an even more wealthy patron of far nobler birth. In his jealousy, he denounced Lucia as a secret Christian to the Roman magistrate, Paschasis . Paschasis ordered Lucia to burn a sacrifice to an idol of the Emperor. To which Lucia replied, I would rather burn myself than to burn a sacrifice to a false idol. In his anger, Paschasis ordered the defiant maiden defiled in a brothel. To which Lucia replied, You could lift my hand and rub it against your idol and still I would be guiltless in the eyes of the Lord, who knows me and knows that you can defile my body but you can never defile my heart. 

     When the Roman guards came to take Lucia away, to have her maidenhead defiled, they found that she was immovable. Even when they tied a team of oxen to her waist by a rope, even then, they could not move her from her mother’s home. When they could not take her to the brothel, they decided to burn her. They built a pyre around her feet, but it would not light. In frustration, they gouged out her eyes - those eyes that burned with the light of Christ inside! They slit her throat, that throat as pure as that of any spring lamb. And so the virgin Lucia died a martyr for our Lord. The angels sang as she entered heaven and the good Lord restored her eyes, more beautiful than those she had possessed here on earth. For she was truly the light of his own eyes. 

      Christine hated the story. 

“It isn’t fair that she had to die,” she said bitterly, though her mouth was full of sugar.

“No. There is nothing fair about the lives of the saints. They have all suffered unjustly in one way or another. It is a great burden to be born a saint.” “I do not remember any male saints dying because someone forced them to marry some pagan princess.” “I am sure there is at least one.”

“But there are countless maiden martyrs. Do it please him, then? For us to suffer on his behalf?” “No, Christine. Our Lord suffers along with us. The tears we shed were his to shed first.” The old woman had become very serious. “No one is asking the Lucia bride to be a martyr. Only to carry light in the darkness.”

     Christine was chastened. She had not meant to antagonize. 

“I believe I am much like Lucia.” “Indeed you are, my child. The light of Christ shines brightly from within you.” “No, I meant only that I shall never marry.”

“Oh! You cannot mean that. Surely, you will find yourself a good husband. One who will love you as much as I do. For one day, I will no longer be here with you. No, no. Do not say that, Christine. You must find someone to look after you. What of the Vicomte de Chagny? Don’t you ever see him at the Opera anymore?” “Oh, I see him up there in his brother’s box. But he never looks at me. I do not believe he remembers me at all. But I could never marry him. I could never marry anyone. Then I would never hear the Angel again.” “Is that what the Angel has told you?” “Yes. He has told me that if I should ever marry, he would have to return to heaven and I would never hear his beautiful voice again,” she said sadly. 

     The old woman grew very quiet.

“Perhaps Our Lord has a greater calling for you, Christine, than to be a wife. Perhaps he intends for you to devote your life to music, and music alone. To be a bride to no earthly man, but the bride of music itself.”

“Do you think so, Maman?” Christine asked wistfully. She was excited by the idea that her destiny might be great and divinely written. 

“I think you should listen to your Angel. He will know what is best for you.”

          Christine changed out of her Lucia gown and went to the Opera later that morning so that she would not be late for rehearsals. A part of her wished that the Angel would come to her, despite that she had missed her lesson. When she stood in his invisible presence, he blessed her with a warmth she found nowhere else. She regretted even one hour lost. But he did not make himself known to her that day. 

     In the evening, Christine served mulled wine with dinner. Maman drank too much and retired early, but Christine took her warm and fragrant cup out onto their narrow balcony to watch the people walking along the street below. It was quite cold and she pulled her coat tight around her body as she leaned slightly over the railing. 

     Thoughts of Lucia and her bloodied eye sockets had haunted her all day. Christine wondered now how the saint’s story might have been different had Lucia agreed to marry the pagan bridegroom. Could they not have become friends, like Saints Cecilia and Valerian? Could she not have taught him the love of Christ better as his wife than as a martyr? They could have learned to love each other somehow. There had to be some way for Lucia to survive her own story. 

     Christine shook her head angrily. But why should any woman lose her maidenhead to a man on the mere hope that her love might be enough to save him? Why should she have to save him?

      Her ears pricked up at a sad sound in the distance. Music, from directly above, but far away, as if from the clouds. Or maybe only as far as the rooftop. She turned and looked up towards the sky overhead. The streetlamps dimmed the light of the stars, but she could just make out the westerly motion of Freya’s cat-drawn chariot. A violin whined a melody so faint it could not be named. Had her Angel come to say goodnight? Her pulse quickened in her ears. If she could have no earthly husband, might she really be wed to the music itself? She listened for a while and then the cold began to bite at her fingertips and the music faded away and it was time to go to bed. She looked into her empty cup and smiled. 

     Inside, she placed the last lussekatter and a fresh cup of hot glögg onto a small tray and took it out onto the balcony. She kneeled to place the tray on the floorboards and stayed there a moment to whisper a little prayer,

“Oh Angel of Music, sent from my father in Heaven, I do not know that angels take offerings in the way of the saints. An angel is not a saint. But I offer you these in thanks for your music. And for your lessons. And for your arrival into my life. I thank my Lord every day that you have finally come to me. Please, tell my father I love him.” 

     Christine tossed about in her bed that night, straining to hear movement on the roof or on the floorboards of the balcony. In the morning, she found the tray quite empty. The cup was dry. She turned her face to the sun and threw a small laugh of delight up to heaven.

[kakakakashi]

I just started BNHA today... I’m on episode 3 and little Izuku is my whole fucking world 🥺🥺🥺 why was he such a precious little child?!?! I just ugh... the no quirk thing and he was so... so sad like you don’t need a quirk little bb you are perfect and that little face could cause world peace 😭 my fucking heart. Makes me think of little Gaara and I am SO SOFT. I’m sorry 🥺 I just had to get it off my chest.

I KNOW, RIGHT??? You should see my snapchat. I scream about how he’s baby very 5 seconds. I just wanna smoosh his cheeks, give him big hugs, and kiss all of his freckles! He’s a lil baby bean cinnamon roll angel cake honey bun pumpkin pie! I can’t decide if I have a crush on him or if I just can’t process how cute he is. Lbr, it’s both.

I KNOW, RIGHT! I was like “Izuku, Deku, honey... you can be a hero. Why isn’t there a Batman or Iron Man in this universe??? Fuck it. Izuku, baby. You’re gonna be the first quirkless hero. I know exactly how. I’m an expert. K, let’s get to work.” *Whips out all of the Marvel material I own and know of, ready to help the lil baby bunny achieve his dream* 

I just... I love Izuku so much... He is just... my fuckin heart! When he does the heart squeeze face, I’m like “BITCH! THAT’S HOW I FEEL ABOUT YOU 25/8!” 

Also, just wait until he goes from skinny to buff. I’m like “Look, you little stinker. Just because you could bench press 200 times my weight doesn’t mean I’m not gonna treat you and protect you like the lil baby bunny you are because your face still looks like it’s 5, and YOU ARE TOO PRECIOUS!” He’s just too good for this world, too pure. Please, someone make him stop hurting himself! I just... I love Deku so much. 

Although... Todoroki is my fave... Although, that’s only because he is literally me in high school in almost every way & I just... yeah. Anyway. Izuku is baby, and I love him so much. *SCREECHES* 

JUST LOOK AT THAT FACE!!! HE IS TOO SWEET!!! HE’S PRETTIER THAN I WILL EVER BE!!! MY HEART CAN’T TAKE IT!!! I FEEL LIKE INKO WATCHING THE SPORTS FESTIVAL & BAWLING!!! Speaking of which, can I just be friends with Inko & look through all of Izuku’s baby albums with her & just cry about how wonderful her son is??? 

[ohmisscornelia]

I still can’t believe my sister’s classmates talked shit on her back... like noah fence but she literally hasn’t done anything wrong ever