#the cupcake has spoken

[vivian-and-friends]

Went out with Momma Penguin today and we found the last Gemgar plush at Wal-Mart

[siblingsoflight]

((It's Munday! Have a picture of my cat, Artemis Fowl. Shes about 2 years old and very spicy. She will bite your ankles))

[gxdmade]

@aamaranthiine asked: [Birthday Boy!]

A birthday?! Thea discreetly slips Usopp some cupcakes and some fresh packets of itching and sneeze powder for future mischief.

Usopp had slipped into his workshop momentarily to grab something, when he spots cupcakes and packets on his desk. Spying just what the packets were gave away just who left these here, and a wide grin spread across his face. He's gonna have to find Thea later for a thank you! He just knows these cupcakes are gonna be awesome.

Gonna hoard them here for himself. (And maybe Nami. And Chopper.)

[xreaderbooks]

Asphyxiated | Azriel

Summary: you overhear your mate talking to the inner circle about someone being clingy and annoying, and you decide to remove yourself from the court and your mate to avoid further humiliation.

based on this request

Warnings: language, insecurity, eavesdropping, feeling unworthy, court of nightmares, there's a stalker, some random OC, angst, miscommunication, fluff

Word Count: 2.9k

Azriel Masterlist | Navi | Wattpad | AO3 | Masterlist

"Azriel," You sing his name as you walk into your secluded home. A decently sized cottage to fit your tall, broad, wide-winged mate, that you designed and built together, just outside the city of Velaris. "Look at what I brought you."

You walk into the sitting room where you and Azriel enjoy each other's company in peace, however rare the occurrence. He appears troubled in his sleep as you've found him lying on his back with his wings spread open and a hand draped over his eyes.  He removes his arm from his face and blinks your way, feeling your presence as you enter the room.

"What do you have there?" His melodic voice makes your stomach flutter in a frenzy as it always does and you hope the bond doesn't translate too much to him, or his shadows, the gossipers that they are.

With a bright grin, you bring the box from behind your back and show him a white box with clear plastic for the perfect view of the treats inside. "Cupcakes," You reply cheerfully, awaiting a grateful response. "Went by the river today and Hilaria was working at the shop you like, did you know she found a job? how great for her!"

Azriel grumbles slightly and your smile falters but you don't let it show, opening the box you move to the couch and sit beside him with the room he gave you tucking in his wings.

"You got my favorite," Az murmurs, carefully taking out the beautifully decorated dessert. You take the statement as a note of appreciation for how well you know him, that much was obvious as you've known each other since birth practically, and in love with each other for half of that time.

He bent his neck down to kiss your cheek and muttering a thank you.

"Don't get too excited now, I heard from Rhys about where you're next assignment is gonna be and I expect a little something when you get back," You tease.

Azriel exhales through his nose and it sounds like a small laugh, "I'll be sure to return the favor if all goes well, love."

"What's wrong?" You ask, the energy in the room has been off since the moment you arrived and you couldn't deny it frightened you a little.

You and Azriel have been going through a rough patch, it happens as often as he overloads himself with work but you have always managed to work through it, it's never too serious mostly the both of you missing each other.

Whenever Azriel was working, you were home, and whenever you were working- he was home. You've spoken to Rhysand about your and Azriel's assignments but it wasn't about when he wanted you both to work, it was simply what needed to be done when it needed to be done.

Both of you being spymasters of the night court, it wasn't ideal to send you both on the same mission unless needed. Most of the time, either one of you or both of you were needed in separate places.

On the days, weeks- if you were lucky- months, that you had 'easy' assignments or days off, you spent it together. You and Azriel would spend time in bed or with your family, going on outings, and trying new things to add to the excitement of life. You loved to be together, your relationship being very sacred to both of you.

"Just tired," Azriel shrugs. You know him better though, something was bothering him that he didn't want to tell you.

You felt his frustration through the bond, you wanted to help him but knowing Az he'd tell you when he was ready.

~~~

"-the fucking shop, I mean honestly how close is she trying to get?"

You didn't mean to eavesdrop. Originally you were coming by to talk to Rhys and Feyre about some of the rumors going around the court of nightmares, nothing too concerning but something that needed to be checked on the next visit. When you heard the muffled voices in the townhouse sitting room.

"Perhaps if you spent less time with her?" Mor suggested.

You couldn't think of anyone else Azriel might be spending time with if not for you. Did Azriel want to spend less time with you?

Your brain immediately jumps to conclusions, Azriel has been in his thoughts as of late, and he hasn't told you what's been bothering him. You thought it had something to do with the distance, perhaps a lack of communication. It was putting a strain on your relationship but you didn't think even more distance was the answer.

Azriel shakes his head insistently, "I don't spend time with her, ever. She finds me somehow, it's maddening and I can't tell Y/n to stay away while I figure out how to solve this, she's always just there."

It was like a dagger in your heart. If you were always there it was because you felt like you never spent time together, how were you supposed to have a relationship if you were never together?

You thought for sure, Azriel felt the same.

"She is a bit clingy," Cassian nods. You felt another pang in your chest, Cassian who was your partner in crime, Mor who was your favorite person to talk to about anything, and your mate had all agreed that you were too much.

"A bit is a bit of an understatement," You heard Feyre chuckle.

You almost couldn't believe what you were hearing, your fault for listening to a conversation you weren't privy to you suppose but you would've never guessed your family felt you smothered them.

Perhaps you were too clingy, you were over at their house every other day. You felt like you were dividing your time between the people you loved, maybe they didn't want you there, and you were an imposition on their daily schedule. You felt embarrassed and humiliated that they were in a meeting to discuss what to do with you.

"I can talk to her if need be, brother," Rhysand gives Azriel a reassuring nod.

Azriel shook his head, "No, no need. I will speak with her, it's my relationship, my responsibility."

Cassian snorted loudly, "Your need to fix things yourself is admirable brother, truly. Let us pray that this will not dig you a deeper grave."

You didn't hear the rest, didn't need to.

Silently, you slipped out the doors of the townhouse. You didn't want to lose your friends so if they wanted space- you'd give them space.

~~~

You disappeared for the rest of the day, and the next. You left a note to Azriel so he wouldn't worry- not that he wouldn't appreciate your shared home now all to himself. You still had your apartment in the city that you rented out when you moved in with Azriel.

There were currently no tenants as there were renovations to be done.

You avoided your room at the townhouse knowing you weren't as welcome as you thought. You didn't show up to training with Cassian and Azriel that morning. Instead, you met informants and did some investigating yourself.

You sent a letter to Rhysand with details on the Hewn City problem, told him that he should look into it as soon as possible, and asked if he wanted you to get a handle on it instead.

He replied with a note giving you thanks and telling you that he'd deal it himself but would call on you with the rest of the inner circle when the visit would happen.

Days passed by until it had officially been a week of no contact. Azriel had sent you letter after letter requesting to see you. You denied them all with sweet words to show that there was nothing wrong, that you didn't overhear what they said about you.

Where'd you go - A

Miss you -A

Come back, our home feels empty without you - Azriel

Are you alright? - Desperately need to see you, Az

Several letters with pleading undertones, each one more than the last.

Then letters from Cassian about training, you reassured him that you were following the usual routine. Mor had invited you to Ritas one night and lunch another day- you declined both with excuses of having too much work to focus on anything else. You didn't realize how much they felt it was an obligation to do things with you.

Eventually, the time came, and Rhysand called on you for the visit to the court of nightmares. You were anxious at the thought of seeing them again, maybe as time passed they would feel better with you around now that you gave them space.

~~~

You dressed appropriately for the setting, your leathers, and weapons strapped to your body. The scowl was natural as you hated being here, glares sent to everyone who looked your way, intimidation being the only way to survive this gods-forsaken place.

Bowing in front of Rhysand to fit the narrative, Feyre sent you a curious as you bowed to her, you felt her stroking the inner walls of your mind- a request to enter. You shut her out with strong mental walls, standing once she allowed you, and took your place next to Azriel, slightly behind him and Cassian.

Azriel's eyes followed you, he tried to brush a finger against your hand as you passed him but you clasped your hands behind your back. Through the bond, you felt a sting in your chest. You spared a glance at your mate, you missed him so much your body craved to be near him but you resisted.

It went as well as it usually did, a dramatically villainous speech from Rhys, with some added threats to those opposed to his reign. The High Fae in attendance got drunk on Faerie wine and danced with the whole night ahead of them.

Azriel attempted to talk to you over his shoulder, "Are you upset with me?" He muttered to you with a crease on his forehead.

You shook your head, "No, why would I be?"

"Where've you been?"

With the few looks you've gotten of his face he looked stressed, circles under his eyes, his hands were clenched and you could tell that it was to keep him from fidgeting.

"Now is not the time," You told him, straightening when you saw a reveler get too close to the High Lady.

"We're done here anyway," Rhysand's voice echoed in your mind. You didn't doubt Azriel heard him as well. You took your leave, Azriel right behind you, he caught up so quickly he held your wrist you didn't notice until you felt the world shift and you realized he traveled you both to your cottage home with his shadows.

Azriel had stood in the same spot he landed while you backed away from him a couple of steps.

"You've been avoiding me," A statement. It was heavy with questions, with want of information you didn't want to divulge.

You asked one of your own, "Have you watered the plants?"

"Have I watered the plants?" He scoffed out the last word. "I've barely been able to function without you, Y/n."

You flinched although he didn't yell but the tone in which he spoke felt like he was scolding you.

He continued, "Yes, I watered the plants."

A weak smile was pulled out of you, he probably loved those plants as much as you. You weren't as much a gardener as Elain but you managed a small garden of your own, they were like yours and Azriel's children, something you both grew together. A garden of both of your favorite flowers and fruits and vegetables.

"Seems like you've been functioning just fine," You responded in a smart tone, it just slipped out.

"Tell me what I did, please, it's driving me mad." He stepped in your direction, shadows reaching to touch you, and you saw Azriel forcefully reigning them in like he wanted to reach for you too.

You softened at the sight, "It's not something you did, Az."

"Something I said, then?" He didn't refrain from fidgeting now, in the comfort of the home, he fidgeted with his fingers. "Something I didn't say, I know I didn't want to talk about what was happening before, but I'll tell you whatever you want me to if you promise not to leave again."

You just about melted, you felt yourself wanting to sway at his beseeching. "What was happening before?" You questioned in barely a whisper.

"Hilaria happened. She- Nothing happened- I swear to you, she grew attached. She grew attached to me," He grimaced as he said it. "She was everywhere I happened to be, it wasn't normal, I've warned her off so many times I was glad you didn't notice. I didn't want you to be uncomfortable with her. The moment she got a job at the sweet shop, she got too close, you went there and I knew it wasn't a coincidence."

Azriel had a fucking stalker and you didn't know about it. That was what he was so stressed about. Hilaria- an Illyrian female who had a shitty life, Azriel had given her refuge, because she had no family left to care for her, and a female alone in that camp was no place to be.

You helped Azriel find her a living space, and gave her safety for her to heal from the traumas, she must've mistook that for something else entirely. You couldn't help but to feel bad for her.

"I went to Rhys, he and the others offered their advice and I tried to talk to her about her behavior. She didn't take it well, so we sent her to Dawn court with the assurance that they would do all they could to help her."

"You talked to the others about this?" It all made more sense now. 

He nodded.

"Did Cassian say she was clingy?" You needed to be sure you were getting all the details now.

His brows furrowed, "How did you?"

"Because I was there when you were talking, but I didn't know you were talking about Hilaria." You sat on the couch slowly, forearms on your knees, hands clasped.

You laughed incredulously, slapping your hands to cover your face and running your hands into your hair. "I thought you were all talking about me."

"What?" Azriel's eyes were on you, deciphering your words when he pieced them together. "Why would we ever?"

"You weren't telling me anything about what was going on, I thought I was prying too much, I do spend a good bit of time with everyone, it wouldn't be too far off."

A smile tugged on his lips, one he was trying not to show. He was trying not to make you feel foolish but it was too late. "I love you, but this was not your wisest moment."

You grabbed a pillow from the couch and threw it at him with little force, "Az!"

"You had everyone concerned, they thought they had offended you in some way."

"Of course not!" You shook your head in disbelief, at how easily your insecurity took over.

"Now my family has some attachment issues, you couldn't get rid of them if you tried, you would probably want space from them yourself."

You rolled your eyes knowing them all too well, centuries with them and you still felt undeserving.

Azriel kneeled in front of you taking your hands in his and settling them on your lap then caressed your face in his hands. "I could never not want you near me, you're everything to me, understand?" His hands gave your head a gentle shake in emphasis.

"I don't think you understand where my mind was at the moment," You avoided his gaze. You didn't want him to know, the feeling of not being worthy enough for him, how you compared yourself to everything in his past and it didn't seem plausible for him to accept you. When he did accept the bond, it was the greatest moment you ever had the pleasure of experiencing.

Azriel was the love of your life, with and without a bond. It was hard for you to accept that he loved you without it if it wasn't for the fact that you trusted him to tell you the truth. He came to you and confessed his love and then the bond happened. You would have continued to pretend you weren't in love with him, otherwise.

"Do you not understand," Azriel sighed, "Do you not understand my love for you, at all?"

"It was easier to believe that you needed space from me," You confessed, shutting your eyes tight. Warm lips landed on yours, you were startled for a second before reciprocating the kiss.

He kissed you breathlessly, a minute, two or three- you didn't know how much time passed. Your blood pulsed in your ears, or was it his? it was rapid and created an electric current in your veins.

"I want to drown in your love, to be asphyxiated by it until all I know is you, in this life and after. I could never get enough of you." He whispered the promise on your lips with his eyes closed. You nudged your nose against his to open his eyes.

The warmth of his hazel eyes graced you and you murmur his name, he nudges your nose in response. "I love you."

Hours into the late night, after Azriel insisted on a bath together, you had a late-night snack nuzzled on the couch catching up on the lost time. You whispered sweet nothings to each other in bed with limbs entangled, and long-lasting kisses.

[who-can-touch-my-boob]

<- Sanemi simp posts masterlist

You’d heard rumours of the fearsome, violent and brute of a man called Sanemi Shinazugawa. The wind Hashira himself who’s said to be a force to be reckoned with and even made someone piss their pants.

The same man everyone in the Demon Slayer Corps avoided whenever possible because of his short temper and occasional death threats. The poor recruits barely able to walk or stay conscious after training with him, who felt the force of his wooden practise sword.

Well, that same man is right now looking at you with an incredulous expression, as if the request you asked of him is the most offensive, disgraceful and unheard thing ever spoken. Sanemi just stares at you, blinking furiously as he struggle to find his words (while he’s also wearing a pink apron, oven mittens and a tray of newly backed cupcakes fresh out of the oven).

“You want me to…what?!”

His cheeks flush pink, his eyes flickering around nervously and he carefully place the tray down on the kitchen counter, as if he’s buying himself time.

You can’t help but grin devilishly, already prepared for that reaction from him. Because despite what most people think or assume about Sanemi Shinazugawa…you were one of the few who’s blessed to witness his true self.

“I want you to smack my ass.”

You cross your arms over your chest, raising an amused eyebrow as you struggle to keep back the laugh threatening to break your matter-of-factly tone.

Sanemi’s whole face reddens further when you confirm what he thought you said but also didn’t want to believe. He shifts his weight from one foot to another, his gaze locked down at the floor. After a minute of silence, he glance up at you, his voice gentle and adorably sweet and uncertain:

“Now?”

Nodding in response to his stuttered question, you turn around, presenting him your rear end. Sanemi swallows hard, taking off his oven mittens methodically as he close the distance. Your ass is tempting and he could never resist touching it, but that’s it.

Not only does Sanemi believe it to be disrespectful to do such things, because he’s a firm believer in not objectifying people in that sense - not even his spouse. He also is afraid of his own strength, terrified to lose control or hurting those he love.

Yet here you are, your perky behind presented to him as you stand with a bend in your knees and Sanemi clutch the oven mittens for dear life.

“I swear, sometimes I don’t know why I bother putting up with you… but fine.”

He mutters under his breath in an exasperated tone and a tenderness which belies his words.

Finally he close the distance even more, you watch as he prepares his hand for the strike. You’re prepared for a sting since you know how incredibly strong he is and you’re already imagining the feeling of his big hand making contact with your cheeks.

“Ready when you are!” You hum playfully, shaking your tushy for him to let him know he has your consent despite this being your request.

Sanemi place the oven mittens on the counter, rubbing his hands together and you can’t help the excitement building inside you. He swings his hand and you bite down on your bottom lip and close your eyes in anticipation.

Pat.

No slap, no stinging and definitely no force behind his action. No. That asshole had just patted your butt gently and then turned away immediately to tend to the cupcakes.

Even with his back turned to you, the blush on his ears betrays him. You can’t decide if you’re annoyed at him or feeling an even stronger affection for this soft man who’s your partner in every sense possible.

You would never actually tell anyone about this side of him, his real side, but if you did no one would believe you anyway.

Not a damn soul will believe that the Sanemi Shinazugawa, Wind Hashira, most violent and feared Demon Slayer is too soft and gentle that he’s not able to even smack his partner’s ass properly at their request.

“Sorry, but even if you’re the one asking…it goes against my beliefs if I ever raise a hand on you. I hope you understand that my hands will never in any way inflict harm on you.”

Sanemi murmurs softly, glancing briefly over his shoulder at you before turning away again when you see the blush on his cheeks. However instead of teasing him or poking fun at him, your heart swells and a warmth spreads through you at his words.

You immediately close the distance, hugs him from behind and bury your face into his back, murmuring assuring words of love, affection and tenderness. Sanemi covers your hands around his waist with his own, giving them a gentle squeeze before he turns around to face you.

“Let’s eat these cupcakes and cuddle, ‘kay?”

He cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips before pulling you closer for a kiss.

[kamaluhkhan]

all the love we had and lost

pairing: conrad fisher x fem!reader

summary: you come back to cousins beach after a few years away. conrad is not particularly happy that you're back - and you aren't particularly thrilled, either. too bad there's a history (chemistry?) neither of you can deny.

warnings: lots of plot + flashbacks. angst with fluff in betweem. slightly suggestive dialogue/situations but nothing more than the actual show, a guy being pushy about hooking up with reader but nothing happens, mention of injuries and blood throughout, hints of alcoholism, brief mention of dieting (reader is competitive swimmer and deals with certain pressures from that), reader gets her period, takes on too much responsibility and argues with her mother (aka eldest daughter syndrome)

tags: @stargirlsirius-recs, @ifilwtmfc, @qwertyb2577, @allnrsnz, @baconeggndcheez, @peanutbelley, @imogen-skye, @geekinthefuschiahair, @tvije,

a/n: thank you thank you thank you for so much love on my first conrad fic!! i'm so excited to share the rest of the series, so stay tuned :))

read part one here

the best friends of our childhoods are the loves of our lives, and they break our hearts in the worse ways. (fredrik backman)

now — summer, age 18

you throw in some extra sprinkles, along with a few more tablespoons of sugar. belly has a huge sweet tooth. it's the night before her birthday, and you're in the kitchen at the fisher's house baking her coconut confetti cupcakes. 

born on june 21st — the summer solstice — belly conklin is the definition of a summer child. she's summer, personified: sunshine, sweet tea, sand, and smiles. having missed so many birthday celebrations, you’re determined to make this year special.

you go to the fridge to grab some eggs, and when you close the door, you're startled by the person standing behind it.

"what are you doing here?" you ask, holding a hand to your chest and setting the carton of eggs on the counter. the joy you felt making birthday cupcakes for belly fades away, replaced with a tingling in your chest. you and conrad hadn’t spoken more than three sentences to each other, or even been in the same room alone, since that morning on the beach. as the distance between the two of you grew, so did your frustration at him. 

conrad raises his eyebrow at you. he reaches around you into the fridge and pulls out a beer. 

"i should be asking you that." 

"the oven at my house is broken and your mom said i could come over."

“i’ve heard that one before,” he mumbles as he leaves the kitchen. you almost can’t believe he brought it up, even if just in a passing, somewhat snarky remark. conrad probably thought you didn’t hear.

these past few weeks, conrad hasn't just been cold towards you — which was a relief as much as it was heart wrenching. he seems more closed off in general, more inclined to spend time with others who hadn't seen him grow up. in fact, you imagine he’s on his way to see nicole now. maybe with her, he can pretend everything is fine. but not with the people in this house, who knew him inside and out.

you would never admit it — if conrad wants to ignore you, you could ignore him just fine — but it was eating you up inside, and it took everything in you not to confront him, to comfort him about whatever he was going through. you’d have arguments when you were kids, but it was nothing a ring pop or tub of cherry jello couldn’t solve. this time is different; the wound is deeper, harder to heal.

you wanted the old conrad back: the sweet boy who cared for you and let you care for him in return. 

then — summer, age 14

belly was turning 12, and you wanted to surprise her with homemade cupcakes for breakfast. only, the oven at your house was broken, which meant your intention of baking her birthday treats would have fallen through, if not for susannah’s ever-present generosity. 

everyone else was out of the house — you even asked laurel and susannah to take belly shopping to not ruin the surprise. you were decorating the cupcakes when conrad walked in from the deck. his wet hair stuck to his forehead and he was wearing a rash guard, so he probably got back from surfing. he looked paler than usual, even after being in the sun for hours, but you didn’t think much of it at first.

“hey,” he greeted, sounding slightly out of breath. “what are you doing here?” 

“the oven at my house is broken, so your mom said i can come over to bake these for belly’s birthday tomorrow.” you gestured at the clumsily decorated treats. the cupcakes had bright pink frosting and rainbow sprinkles. you weren’t a professional by any means, but knew that belly would love them.

“but i’m sure she wouldn’t miss one or two, if you wanna try one,” you offered, smiling at conrad.

he smiled back, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “yeah. yeah, let’s do that. i’m just gonna get changed first.”

conrad walked past you, and that’s when you noticed him limping — along with a bloody gash just below his left knee.

you instantly dropped the spatula back into the half-empty frosting bowl.

“connie, what the hell happened?”

“i’m fine,” he answered. “i wiped out, got cut by the fin of my board.” conrad must have noticed your eyes widened with worry because he grabbed your wrist gently, thumb rubbing soothingly on your pulse point. he was bleeding out on the kitchen floor, and there he was, trying to make sure you were okay. 

“i’m fine,” he reassured. 

the blood dripping down his leg suggested otherwise. years ago conrad would faint at the sight of blood, and though he’d mostly outgrown that, you knew it still made him queasy. you imagined the pain definitely wasn’t making it easier. without another word, you pulled him into the bathroom and made him sit on the edge of the bathtub. you washed your hands then sat cross-legged in front of him.

“you here to fix me up, sweetheart?” he smirked as he watched you gather supplies from the cabinet underneath the sink, your brows furrowed in concentration.

“what?” you paused, almost laughing. until you saw his wound again, and you got back to work.

“it’s from the hunger games,” he explained. “when katniss finds peeta in the arena? and he’s all, like, injured.”

“well, he was definitely in worse shape than you,” you assured. “your cut’s not that deep, it just looks bad.”

“it doesn’t feel great, either.”

conrad exhaled sharply when you started applying pressure to his leg with a damp washcloth. you placed your other hand on his right knee.

“it’ll be fine, connie. i’ve got you. keep your eyes on me, okay?”

he looked down at you, wet hair framing his face as he offered a short nod. 

you gestured at him to take over, and your fingers brushed together when he grabbed the washcloth, but he never looked down. his eyes still followed you as you searched the bathroom for something to cover his wound.

a comfortable silence followed. the two of you used to spend hours talking, sure, but what you loved about spending time with conrad is that silence didn't bother him. you could each be in your own worlds while in the comfort of each other's company, and that was enough.

once the wound was cleaned and the bleeding slowed down, you placed a gauze pad over his cut before wrapping a cloth bandage around it.

“i’m pretty sure it’s ‘you here to finish me off, sweetheart?’,” you remembered.

conrad shook his head. “i’m pretty sure it’s not. i’ve read the book like, three times.”

you move to sit next to him on the edge of the tub.

“how sure are you, connie? because i’m pretty damn sure.”

conrad shrugged. “i’m pretty damn sure, too.” 

you rolled your eyes, but with a smile. “okay, fine. we’ll check. but, when you see how wrong you are, you have to come with me to see jaws 2.” it was playing at the local movie theatre during their weekly throwback thursday — you and belly had seen it advertised on your way home from getting ice cream. you had wanted to ask conrad, but couldn’t find the right time.

because you hadn’t meant it to be a date, but you also hadn’t not meant it to be. something changed about how you felt towards conrad that summer; or, maybe, you just figured out what was different about the love you felt towards him compared to everyone else. 

(yes, love. again, something you would never admit.)

you thought maybe — maybe he felt it too. there was something different in the way he teased you, laughed with you, looked at you when he thought you couldn’t notice.

you did notice. it happened so much that eventually you decided that either it was all in your head and he didn’t love you that way, or he was also scared of what would happen if he did. which, to be fair, was the position you were in. you were very scared of what would happen if you crossed that line.

“i’ll agree to that,” conrad said. “if you agree to having a picnic with me on the beach. if i have to face my fear of sharks, then you have to face your fear of angry seagulls stealing your food.”

a picnic on the beach. you wondered if this was conrad’s way of subtly asking you on a date. did he also want to cross that line, become something other than friends? he looked at you so eagerly, you hoped he did.

“fine.” you held out your hand. “but you have to protect me from angry seagulls.”

conrad smiled at you brightly as he grasped your hand. 

“always.” 

in the end, conrad lost the bet. the screening of jaws 2 was cancelled, so you rented it from the video store instead. you got his favourite movie snacks, and some of yours as well, and made sure the couch had the comfiest pillows and the warmest blanket. you felt butterflies just thinking about the two of you watching together, cuddling on the couch. 

when the time came though, your plans fell through. the playdates your siblings had lined up both cancelled. your mother had plans to meet a friend at the bar, and claimed she couldn't reschedule. by then your parents were divorced and your father was elsewhere with his new girlfriend, so it fell to you to babysit your siblings.

conrad came over anyway: he helped you make rice and lentils for dinner, convinced your brother to eat his vegetables, and let your sister paint his nails. the four of you watched night at the museum and ate all the junk food you had gotten, with you and conrad sitting on opposite ends of the couch, but stealing glances and shy smiles at each other. when your mother came home, a bit after midnight and a little tipsy, she got angry that you’d kept the twins up so late and cheated on the diet she had so carefully planned for you — to keep you in shape for swimming, she claimed. you rolled your eyes, and that made her angrier. without you saying anything, conrad took the twins upstairs to get ready for bed as you and your mother argued. by the time conrad walked back downstairs, your mother had gone into the living room for another drink and you were in tears. he asked if you were okay, and you told him to go home.

you never talked about that night again, and everything went back to the way it was: with neither of you crossing that line.

now

the only reason you let belly drag you to nicole’s party is because it’s her birthday. 

as soon as you enter the house, nicole and the other debutantes whisk belly away to a table filled with elaborate cakes. you can’t help but feel slightly embarrassed by how elegant they look in comparison to the cupcakes you made her. 

"come on," taylor groans. "let's get a drink."

taylor grabs two beers and hands one to you. you gratefully accept. the two of you catch up for a bit, when suddenly jeremiah starts serenading belly in an outrageously funny musical number. you laugh along with them, until you catch a glimpse of conrad with nicole on the couch at the other end of the room. nicole is sitting in conrad's lap, and she leans over to whisper something in his ear before kissing his cheek. your entire body heats up.

conrad was right before: you were jealous. as frustrated as you were with him, you were even angrier at yourself for feeling that way. 

"i’m gonna go find the bathroom!” taylor says, practically shouting over the music. 

"okay!” you yell back. “i’m gonna go get another drink." 

you know all too well that it isn’t a good habit to get into, but you need something stronger if you’re going to survive this party. you examine the drink table, finally picking out some mediocre tequila. you take a shot, then another.

“tequila. my kind of girl.” someone declares, creeping up behind you. 

it’s a terrible pick up line, and you already have a feeling that the guy trying to flirt with you is some rich entitled asshole. 

but, the guy — liam — can hold a decent conversation, and he’s cute enough.

he’s no conrad, though. you take another shot when that thought crosses your mind, and force yourself to flirt with leo. liam. right, liam.

liam leans in close, pretends to listen to you, lets his gaze linger on the deep v-neck of your shirt. you’re so close, you can smell the alcohol on his breath. 

“five minutes,” you boast after he asks how long you can hold your breath underwater. somehow, the conversation veered towards your time as a competitive swimmer. you’re just the right amount of tipsy that your inhibitions start fading away.

“wow,” liam says. “i have to say, i’m glad you didn’t have that training camp this summer.”

you bat your eyelashes at him. “oh? why is that?” you lean closer, trailing a finger down his chest.

“because then i wouldn’t be able to do this.” 

liam kisses you then, and you kiss back. he slides his tongue in your mouth, runs his hands over your body. you feel nothing. it’s fine.

“let's go upstairs.”

liam’s grabbing your wrist before you have a chance to answer. as he tries to tug you up the stairs, your eyes meet conrad’s from across the room.

suddenly, you feel nauseous. you rip away from liam’s grip and place a hand on the wall next to you to steady yourself.

liam turns around sharply. “what is it?”

“i changed my mind, actually. let’s just hang out downstairs.”

liam grabs your wrist again, his grip tighter than before. “don’t be a tease.” 

this time, your voice comes out louder. “i just changed my mind. that doesn’t make me a tease.”

“don’t be a bitch, then,” he scoffs, and you’re this close to breaking this guy’s nose. “do you wanna fuck, or not?”

“i don’t,” you answer instantly, struggling to break free from his grip. 

“okay, whatever. we don’t have to go all the way, but we can still go upstairs, and have a good time.”

he manages to drag you up two steps as you strain against his iron grip, now almost cutting off your circulation. your heartbeat quickens and you feel dizzy. finally, you grab onto the railing for leverage, forcing liam to stop in his tracks.

“what is it now?” he groans.

“just stop, liam.”

“listen,” he starts, speaking to you almost mockingly, like you’re a naive little girl. “i know what girls want, so you don’t have to be shy. we’re going upstairs right now and —”

“liam, is it?” the rest of the party is in full motion, but here’s belly, giving liam one of the most intense death stares you’ve ever seen. belly, who if you cut open, would bleed sugar. “i’m gonna have to ask you to let go of my friend.”

“whatever,” liam answers, rolling his eyes. “if you don’t mind, we’re kinda in the middle of something.” he tries to move you forward, but you stand your ground.

jeremiah is also glaring at liam from the bottom of the stairs, his golden retriever personality long gone. “back off, man,” he warns.

“just mind your own business,” liam snaps.

“they said leave her alone,” steven asserts, walking over once he sees what’s happening. “and you don’t wanna mess with us, trust me.” he clenches his hand into a fist as if proving a point.

in other situations, you and belly have definitely teased steven for his tendency to act all tough, but right now, you couldn’t be more grateful.

“who the fuck are you? her bodyguards?” 

“just let her go,” belly orders. 

“i think she can speak for herself. she wants this, but if you’re jealous, you can join, too.” 

your stomach churns. liam leans in close to whisper in your ear. “maybe we’ll see if those 5 minutes come in handy when you’re sucking my —”

as soon as liam lets go of your wrist, his hand trailing downward, you shove him away and punch him in the nose before he can finish his sentence. you deliver a final blow to liam’s ego as he’s doubled over:

“what i want is for you to leave us the fuck alone. there are other people in this house who i’d rather hook up with. people who aren’t complete assholes with fancy cars to compensate for their tiny dick.”

the flirtatious smile falls from liam’s face, replaced with the kind of anger only rich entitled assholes have when they don’t get what they want — figures that he only gets the hint when it literally hits him right in the nose. he’s angry enough to deliver a punch right back to your face. 

you hear a crack upon impact, and pain radiates from your nose. you fall down the stairs, but belly manages to catch you before you hit the ground. she holds you as jeremiah and steven step in front. you hear them shouting at liam over the music, but their exact words don’t register.

you lick your lips, tasting blood. your ears are ringing, and the room is suddenly all fuzzy.

“i’ve got her.” conrad’s calm and measured voice cuts through the chaos. you feel a strong, familiar arm wrap around your waist. “go find cam — the rest of us have been drinking, but he can drive her home.”

somehow, you find yourself in a bathroom, sitting on the counter as conrad stands between your legs. he carefully examines your injury, but you notice how he avoids making eye contact. 

you feel your head spinning all over again. maybe it’s the alcohol, or the adrenaline, or the fact that the two of you haven’t been this close in a while — probably a dangerous mix of all three. 

“you here to fix me up, sweetheart?” the question slips past your lips before you could stop it.

conrad looks slightly amused, and he finally meets your gaze. “that’s not the line,” he deadpans. you know (from trying not to but ultimately not being able to pull your attention away from him all night) that he’s had a few drinks as well; it seems like the two of you ignore each other best when you’re sober.

but, still, he remembers. his comment earlier and his smile right now is all the confirmation you need: somewhere in the back of his mind, he replays memories of you. no matter how cold he acts towards you, he still cares.

he continues wiping the blood off your face. “how’s your hand?” he asks.

you flex your fingers, inspect your hand. “it’s been better,” you answer, though your knuckles are slightly aching. “worth it.”

“i guess all those years away made you a badass.”

all those years away. the reminder feels like a stab to the heart, but you wouldn’t let it burst the comfortable bubble you and conrad had somehow stumbled into. 

instead, you offer him a lopsided smile.

“oh, connie,” the nickname rolling off your tongue with ease. “i was always a badass.”

“yeah, yeah. but it’s different now. you’re different.” he pauses. you’re worried he’s going to say something else. 

but he doesn’t. instead, he asks, jokingly: “did you join a fight club or something?” 

you take that as a good sign: like you, he’s trying to preserve the playfulness between you before everything else seeps in and ruins it, before you’re brought back to the present, where you’re both heartbroken and not talking to each other. 

“you know the first rule of fight club —”

“don’t talk about fight club,” you finish together. 

conrad laughs, even though it’s not that funny. you laugh, too. 

a silence falls over you, one that’s not unfamiliar, but not entirely comfortable either. conrad holds the cloth against your nose to make sure the bleeding stopped. 

it seemed to be a strange pattern between you two — being there for each other when you bleed.

then — summer, age 12

it was the end of july when you got your first period. 

you had made lunch for your siblings and walked them to their day camp, when you suddenly felt an ache in your abdomen. that ache turned into a sharp pain by the time you got home, and you ran to the bathroom to confirm what you’d suspected. 

that afternoon, mr. conklin was taking all the kids to mini golf, but you weren’t feeling up for it. you texted belly about what happened and spent the rest of the day curled up in bed.

you didn’t hear him knock over the sound of the movie you were watching, but suddenly you saw conrad standing by your door, holding a bag from the candy shop. 

“jesus, connie, you scared me!” you exclaimed, pausing the movie. 

he smiled sheepishly and flopped down on the bed next to you. “belly told me you weren’t feeling well. here.” he handed you the bag. 

you opened the bag, grateful that conrad picked out your favourite treats. you take one and bite into it. your stomach growled — you hadn’t eaten earlier because you felt nauseous, but now you could eat that entire bag in one go.

“how was mini golf?” you asked, popping another treat into your mouth.

“it was awesome! i finally managed to get past that giant hippo and get a hole-in-one. i got the highest score.”

you frown, wishing you had been there. if anything, to beat conrad’s score. 

“don’t worry, we’ll go back another time,” conrad added. “you can beat me then.” sometimes, you swore conrad could read your mind. he then asked if you were feeling better.

“no. i got my period,” you huffed. “it sucks.”

“oh.” conrad adjusted his glasses, a sign that he felt awkward. “i’ve heard about those. they sound pretty brutal.”

“health class?”

“no. my mom, actually.”

health class wasn’t much help for you either, and neither was your mother. you were lucky enough to have susannah and laurel, who had explained everything to you and belly. 

“anyway, what are you watching?”

“the hunger games,” you answer. “i just finished the book.”

“cool.” 

conrad didn’t move — he actually leaned back against the pillows even more — so you figured he wanted to stay. you moved the laptop so it sat between the two of you and started playing the movie again.

“you know, it doesn’t seem fair that you miss out on having fun just because of your period,” conrad said as katniss finds peeta injured in the arena.

you frown, about to point out that he has no idea how painful cramps can be.

he lifted his hand up to stop you. “not that i can judge what you’re going through. i’m just saying when it’s this bad, instead of being alone, just text me, and i’ll be there.”

when the time came, he watched movies with you in bed. he brought you junk food and pain killers. he even biked to the store when you’d run out of pads.

he was there for you, just like he promised.

now

those moments from past summers now feel warm and sickly sweet, like popsicles melting in the sun — then again, that might just be the remnants of tequila flowing through your veins. you think about what happened earlier, how belly, jeremiah, and steven stepped in to protect you. how conrad is here with you now, taking care of you so tenderly even after you’ve ignored each for so long. it’s like nothing changed. but once you leave this bathroom and the alcohol leaves your system, it wouldn’t be the same. you feared you'd never get that magic back, and that weighed on your chest so much, you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“why’d you go for liam, anyway?” conrad asks, breaking you away from your thoughts. he removes the cloth from your nose so you can answer, and the bleeding seems to have finally stopped.

“you really wanna know?”

“yeah. liam’s an asshole. and you’re…” conrad places his hands on either side of your thighs, leaning close. “you.”

“i went for liam because….well, honestly, i didn’t care who it was, as long as they made me forget you,” you admit, because what did you have to lose. you probably have a broken nose, you definitely have blood on your shirt, and your time with conrad is running out. 

conrad’s eyes darken. his fingers start to play with the hem of your shorts. 

“did it work?” his voice is a whisper, but he’s so close that it’s crystal clear.

“no.”

it’s hard to determine who leans in first, but soon enough your lips are on conrad’s. it's not the most elegant kiss — it's messy, urgent, with your noses bumping together, and teeth clacking against each other. he cradles your face in his hands, and you wrap your legs around his waist to bring him closer. you taste beer on his tongue, and maybe a hint of lime, but it’s overwhelmed by the salty, metallic taste of blood stained on your lips. you tangle your hands into his hair, and you swallow his moan as you gently tug. it’s clearer now: you’re not dizzy from the alcohol or adrenaline, but dizzy from him.

when you run out of air, feeling like your lungs could burst, you pull away. conrad’s gaze is heavy on yours as he traces your top lip with his thumb.

“connie,” you whimper, itching to kiss him again. 

“you’re still bleeding.”

conrad wipes away your blood with the cuff of his flannel. before either of you can do or say anything more, there’s a knock on the door. jeremiah, letting you know that it’s time to go. 

and, just like that, the moment is gone. 

a few days later, belly invites you over for a girl’s night. you paint each other’s nails, eat sour candy, and watch rom coms, just like you used to. she updates you on debutante season, the argument she had with taylor, and her blossoming feelings for jeremiah. you let it slip that you and conrad kissed at nicole’s party, though you admit you aren’t sure what it means — as if you hadn’t spent hours and hours thinking about the kiss, about him. belly gives you a knowing smile, but you change the subject before she can comment any further.

you’re halfway through 10 things i hate about you when belly falls asleep. you grab your phone, deciding to finally reach out to conrad, when you get a text from him.

he’s already on the dock when you arrive, looking out onto the water. 

“hey,” you greet as you stand next to him. “i was actually about to text you —”

“did you tell belly that we kissed?” he interrupts. you can’t quite read his expression as he waits for you to answer.

“no, i didn’t,” you lie. “but…would it matter if i did?”

“well, i mean, belly’s close to nicole and i don’t want her finding out," conrad explains. his words are deliberate, and you suspect he'd spent some time perfecting what to say to you. so far, you didn't like where this was going. conrad delivers another blow:

"it’s not like it meant anything.”

you feel like you could shatter into a million pieces right then and there.

“it didn’t?” you hate how fragile your voice sounds, compared to conrad’s stoic demeanor.

conrad shrugs. “i mean, we were both drunk and the thing with liam happened, so we just got caught up in the heat of the moment.” 

“you’re saying there’s nothing between us, then? nothing other than friendship?”

he turned away before he answered. “no. nothing.”

“then what about last summer?” you demand. you force yourself to keep it together, your tone firmer than before. “i guess that didn’t mean anything, either.”

“y/n…” he pauses, and you know you caught him off guard. “i don’t know what you want me to say. we’re barely even friends anymore. you come back here, after all this time, after so much shit has happened, and expect us all to drop everything to fit you back into our lives. but, you don't. we moved on. i moved on, and i can’t deal with you —" 

“got it,” you snap, already turning to walk away. “loud and fucking clear, conrad.” 

it’s not like it meant anything. we’re barely even friends anymore.

you replay conrad’s words as you crawl into bed next to belly, holding back tears as to not disturb her sleep.

you decide then that you didn’t love conrad anymore. you couldn’t because it would eat you up inside. 

then again, it doesn't seem like hating him would be any easier.

[thegoogoomuckkk]

NOW PLAYING

IN ANOTHER LIFE PT. 1

Starring: Kento Nanami, Kiyotaka Ijichi, Satoru Gojo, Shiu Kong, Suguru Geto, Sukuna Ryomen

In another life, where might you two meet?

Warnings! fem!reader, swearing, suggestive content, kissing, fluff

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Kento Nanami: Baker <3

Nanami wouldn’t consider himself a sensitive man, but he is methodical, traditional, & good at what he does. Baking is so soothing to his poor head, overwhelmed with thoughts of the future, financial stability, how on earth he’s going to work up the courage to ask out his favorite regular customer. . .you know, important, crucial things. But that all melts away when he bakes: of course, bread is his favorite, but he’s capable of nearly anything, you imagine. He knows that you have a soft spot for his sweets, so each morning he arrives at his little café so, so, so early to provide a new freshly baked good for your choosing. Scones, cupcakes, croissants, cheesecake bites. . .he’s a simple man, but for you, he’s imaginative, creative, loving. 

& when he does finally ask you out, of course you’re over the moon. He’s so stoic that you really couldn’t tell whether he liked you or if he was just being polite, but he clears the air on your first date, telling, or rather showing you how serious he is about his affections. To Nanami, actions have always spoken louder than words. 

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Kiyotaka Ijichi: Personal Assistant <3

Kiyotaka, in his heart & soul, cannot be anything but who he is, & that is a personal assistant. Some men have aspirations to run companies, prosecute criminals, create laws, scam poor people out of money, etc. but not Kiyotaka. He doesn’t find it emasculating in any way, he just is a subservient guy. He’s never more comfortable than when helping someone else. He loves a checklist, a set of goals, organization, all his pens in order of favorite to least favorite, a fresh legal pad on his desk each morning, errands to run, things to do. The chaos of it is oddly soothing to him. He’s one of those people that goes stir-crazy if there isn’t something to be doing constantly. He reads, he gardens, he takes care of a cat probably (a dog is just too irresponsible of him, at least that’s what he says, really he just loves cats). 

But you teach him the joy of slowing down, relaxing. “The world isn’t going to end if you take a day off of work, Kiyo.” Wow, he thinks. That thought had really never occurred to him. Would it really be fine? Probably not, but you have him convinced. Not with his preferred method of logic & reason, no he’s far too head over heels for that. All you have to do is bat your lashes & smile & he’s putty in your hands. 

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Satoru Gojo: Stripper <3

Attention seeker 101. The world has to know him somehow, if not as the best sorcerer, then surely taking his clothes off will do the trick. Satoru practically invented the term striptease. He’s a natural performer. Think sleek designer suits, custom-made costumes, & perfectly tailored outfits that cling to his body just right before he dramatically sheds each layer. 

He’s lazy with it, too, not really pole dancing, not really doing the routine, just prancing around on stage, showing off. Puts that stupid body glitter on ‘cause he always has to pull attention from anything & everyone else. Gets upset when his regular clients don’t show up & tip him. Never gets fully naked, at least not for free, & not in front of all these people. But if there happened to be a pretty girl who happened to want a private show, he happened to be willing to oblige. 

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Shiu Kong: Poker Dealer <3

He’s too good at his job, excelling in high-stakes situations, that’s his gig. Poker games for the rich & famous. He’s so calm & cool no matter the tension at the table, probably hiding a gun somewhere in the perfectly fitting suit. He takes his role seriously & always dresses impeccably, whether it's in a sleek, tailored suit or classic casino dealer attire. He can always tell when a player is bluffing, always. 

He’s not looking for a relationship, but a friends-with-benefits situation with one of the cocktail waitresses is right up his alley. That little dress you wear—if you can even call it a dress—has him uncomfortably shifting his pants. Right at the table, too, so unprofessional. Probably makes you double date with Toji & his girl of the week, then argues with Toji for hitting on you, not only when you’re on the date, but right in front of Toji’s girl. 

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Suguru Geto: Politician <3

Scuzzy man who associates with other scuzzy men in order to get his scuzzy money. On the surface, Suguru is the perfect politician—charming, eloquent, seemingly dedicated to the welfare of his constituents. Has a vast network of informants who gather dirt on everyone around him. He knows every weakness, every secret, & every skeleton in the closet of his political opponents. Loves making those cringey commercials degrading his opponent. Ultimately, he’s the dirtiest politician, he believes idealism is futile. Dark money & shady business is what Geto deals in. But don’t worry, he keeps you safe from all of that. 

He is a master of shifting the blame; if & when something goes wrong, it’s never his fault, except for sex scandals. . .he welcomes those, if anything. Especially yours. It’s not necessarily scandalous, but he is unabashed when it hits the news. 

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Sukuna Ryomen: Bouncer <3

Will kick your ass, I know you’re surprised by that because he totally doesn’t give off those vibes at all, not in the slightest. That’s why he became a bouncer at some high-end club, because he is a nice, sweet guy that doesn’t haunt your martini-infused nightmares/wet dreams. Hates the fake ID kids, not ‘cause they’re drinking, but because they’re so fucking stupid. 

“Really? 123 Tokyo Street, Tokyo? You’re a fucking moron, get outta here.” 

Sukuna doesn’t tolerate any kind of nonsense. If a fight breaks out or someone gets too rowdy, he’s quick to step in & settle things with minimal effort, in fact, he almost likes it when fights happen, gives him something to do besides checking ID’s.. His intense gaze alone often stops arguments before they escalate, but if things get physical, he can easily throw someone out without breaking a sweat. Sukuna may seem like he’s always brooding or annoyed, but he enjoys the control & authority of being a bouncer. He likes being the one in charge of keeping the peace—or rather, maintaining his version of peace. It’s a power play for him, & he thrives on it.

He’s not approachable, & yet that doesn’t stop you from approaching him. He’s not as easy as you hoped he’d be though; he’s hesitant to date someone from the bar he works at. It takes him quite a bit of convincing for him to even take you on a date, but once he does, he’s hooked. 

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will i ever stop posting two part headcanons? that's a secret i'll never tell, xoxo, carlisle (no, but pray that i will) <3

LOOKING FOR SOME MORE? MASTERLIST <3

LOOKING FOR SOMETHING SPECIFIC? ASK <3

[c0ld0utside]

Do you write angst/sadder ideas?

I had a idea of a reader whose mother died during birth, and because of the grief their father accidentally ignored them? Working constantly, missing important events. Like he’s not the worst father, just absent. could make him rich so reader spends more time with a nanny then their own father.

So reader runs away, and the father finally realized what he did and has to try to find reader? (Readers at a friends house but the father doesn’t really know their friends. Or something like that idk)

sorry if this is long or something that’s boring, perfectly fine if you don’t want to do it :)))

Sorry this took me so long. No TW's really (not that I know of at least).

Could you blame him? Being a single father was hard, especially when you’re a CEO for a company that owns other companies and so on… and when you remind him so much of who he lost. Maybe it’s your eyes, or your face shape or the texture of your hair. Maybe even the way you talk. Regardless, Steven was a busy, sad, mourning man who’s grief worsened upon seeing you, his only child.

He tried to make it up to you. He hired you a nanny- Ms. Noya- to be there for you instead. He’d send you birthday cards- May 18th is your birthday, right? Steven would even send you cupcakes- only to find years later that you didn’t like cupcakes. Odd. Who doesn’t like cupcakes? Whatever. Point is, he tries. Even if Steven’s work is more important than you and those soccer matches and choir concerts that he missed.

At least Ms. Noya attended, right? Well- even if she couldn’t make it to all of your games at least someone is cheering you on. Steven doesn’t know that some of your classmates make fun of you for needing a Nanny. That they mock you for your lack of attention. That Mommy died because of you and Daddy hates you for it.

If he had known sooner he would’ve dismissed all of those things. Told you that no, he doesn’t hate you for what happened because- well, these things happen. He and your mother knew the risks. Steven just didn’t expect it to hurt as much as it did.

Steven stands there in your empty bedroom on the verge of having a panic attack. After seeing your posts online of games you won and concerts you were a part of, he mustered up his courage and decided to finally come home. Only to find that you weren’t there. Nor was your Nanny. He searched all over the home, calling out for you and Ms. Noya but got no answer. He tried calling you with his phone- you wouldn’t pick up.

So, he searched your room and found your diary. Steven knew it was a #1 rule to not go through your child’s diary, but he needed clues to where you were. And he hasn’t spoken to you in so long- it suddenly hit him that he knew nothing about you. How shameful.

…

Steven set the diary down with a shaky sigh.

I don’t know why I’m still not used to him being here.

I’ve been throwing the cupcakes away.

I don’t even use most of the stuff he gives me. I should give it away. It’s cluttering up my room and closet.

I wish he’d actually just stop by for once. I didn’t kill her. It’s not my fault. I don’t even want to be here.

Fuck this. I don’t know why I’m still waiting for him. I’m going to Lucy’s.

Lucy? Who is Lucy? A friend? Steven quickly calls up the school to ask them about a “Lucy.” On a rare stroke of luck, there’s only one Lucy in your school. After getting her address (people are so easily bribed with money), Steven immediately called the police.

Was it the best reaction? Noooo. But come on- if it was him who had showed up you wouldn’t have come back. Steven was sure of that. Especially after reading your diary. (He was 100% wrong.)

Yeah you freaked out on him once you got home. He expected that! You were just put in a police car after all. It’s amusing, really, how nervous he is. Him, Steven (l/n), a CEO that essentially has it all. Has been through countless meetings where he was calm and precise and knew what to say.

“I’m really sorry sweetheart! I didn’t know where you were and I- …I had to see you. I know it’s been a long while and that that’s an understatement but it’s been so long and I need to make it all up to you.”

-

Going back to school the next day had been extremely awkward for you and your friends. When you got home, you were horrified to find out that Ms. Noya had been…”removed,” putting it lightly.

“I’m going to be working from home from now on, so we won’t be needing her anymore.” Steven had told you. He shushed you when you started to protest, patting your head like a toddler.

“I know there are huge changes happening, but it’s okay! I’ll fix everything and we can make up for lost time. I promise.”

“Daddy’s here now, and he won’t leave you alone again.”

____

Yall I'm sorry this is taking me so long forgive me please. My chromebook has been acting up so I'm stuck writing on my phone.

Criticism is welcome. Remember to drink some water and eat.

[ebodebo]

Forbidden Fruit

NSFW CONTENT

—you and ghost had a relationship before you went off to college for your master's and he comes back for your father's and his bestfriends, captain price, party he’s hosting.

—dbf!ghost x f!reader

—1.6k+

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"So, what are you celebrating anyway?" you ask your dad as he stands in the kitchen frosting cupcakes while you sit on the counter half-assisting him.

"Uh...nothing in particular," Price says as he carefully frosts a cupcake. "I just thought it could be nice since everyone's in town."

"Mhm," you remark as you stick your finger in the frosting. He stops frosting and stares at you. "Oh, come on, my hands are clean, plus no one has to know."

"I would know," he earnestly says, half joking, half serious. "And I'll tell everyone, you stuck your finger in the frosting. You might as well stick your finger in their mouth."

"Oh my God, you are so dramatic!" You exclaim, laughing. His laughs follow yours until you begin talking.

"So, who's all coming anyway?" You question finally picking up a cupcake to begin frosting it.

"Uh...just the usual." He continues. "Kate and her wife, Johnny, Gaz, and Simon." Your eyes dart up. "Simon?" He sets the frosted cupcake down. "Mhm—oh damn it." He says, as he spills some of the frosting on his shirt. "Why?" He questions as he reaches for a paper towel.

"Uh...no reason. I just haven't seen him in a while." It had been a while or so since you last saw Simon. And saw him you did. 

"I guess it has been a while. Well, you two can catch up. Talk to him about college." You half smile.

"I should go change," you say, sliding off the counter and heading towards your room. Your mind is clouded with thoughts of Simon.

These are mainly thoughts of the way he left before you went back to college to pursue your master's. You confided in him, cried to him, embraced him, and even loved him. 

He said he would keep in touch, but that had been all of five years ago. You had not spoken to or seen him in five years. Of course, your father had no idea of the sentiments you and Simon shared. He could never know. 

You had sat in your seat for almost forty minutes. You were busy conversing with Laswell, mostly about college. You were just glad your dad answered the door for him. 

Your goal was not to look in his general direction for the rest of the night, but your dad forced you to greet him. It's a good thing his greeting is pretty much always serious and to the point, so it wasn't odd to John that his daughter and Simon shared only one word. 

However, then your dad had the grand idea to play a board game, which would force you to look at Simon. This would not do. You were looking for any reason to leave the table, to leave Simon. 

Thank God Kate spilled some of her wine on the table. "No problem. Let me go get some napkins," your father chimed as he stood up.

"I'll get them." You stood quickly, heading to the shed before anyone could object. 

You make your way outside to the shed to grab the napkins. You open the wooden door, which is surprisingly quiet, and step inside.

"If I were a napkin, where would I be." You whisper to yourself as you rustle around the knick-knacks crowding the shelves. 

With no luck finding the napkins on the lower shelves, you investigate the higher shelves. You notice the familiar shade of white on the top shelf. "Bingo," you proclaim, but soon discover it would be impossible for you to reach. You scope around, noticing an old wooden box.

You drag the box in front of the shelves and stand on it, slowly extending your arms higher and higher until your finger grazes the napkin packaging. However, you feel the box holding you up starting to tilt—just your luck.

"Fuck!" You squeal as you feel your body falling, though you never do hit the ground. Instead, a force holds you up. You open your eyes to see Simon's eyes peering into yours as his arms encapsulate your body. 

"You should be more careful," he gruffly states as he gently puts you down. You narrow your eyes at him. "What are you doing out here?" you question, irritability lacing your words. 

"Price asked me to check on you," he says. “You were taking a while." You turn towards the napkins again. "Well, tell him I'll be out in a minute." You step onto the box and are expecting Simon to leave, but to your dismay, you turn your head to him in the exact same spot. 

"This is usually the part where you turn and walk out the door." You chime as you place your hands on your hips. 

He stayed stationary, no words coming out of his mouth. You narrowed your eyes again at his lack of action. "Simon," you annoyingly said as you impatiently tapped your foot. 

He should most definitely not be thinking about you the way he is at the moment. You aren't just his boss's daughter; you are one of his best friends' daughters. It's unforgivable. You were off limits, forbidden fruit. 

Forbidden fruit Simon Riley wanted to take a bite out of. 

"Whatever." You scoff as you begin to reach for the napkins once again. "Stop." He bluntly says. You don't stop, though. You were going to get these God damned napkins one way or another.

"Y/N." He began, his voice becoming increasingly annoyed at you blatantly ignoring him. 

You still stretched your arms, finally feeling the plastic bag holding the napkins between your pointer and middle finger. 

"Enough." He sternly said as you stalked up behind you and roughly grabbed you by the waist, pulling you off the box.

"I almost had them." You breathed out, seething with anger. Though you were safely planted on the floor, Simon didn't let go of your waist. His hands stayed on your body.

Your eyes were staring into his. Your breath synchronized with his shallow breaths. "Let go, Simon," you breathlessly said, breaking the silence as you felt his hand grip tighten. 

"No." He gruffly says as he brings you closer to him. 

No, no. He wasn't just going to come back after years of ignoring you and years of your yearning for him. 

"Your parents didn't teach you any manners?" It was a low-blow and you knew it, but you were furious. You didn't know the ins and outs of Simon's relationship with his family, but you knew there was some deep-rooted trauma there.

"I guess not." He plainly states, bringing his hand up to cup your face. 

"Go figure." You whisper as you feel his hands on your face. 

"Now that we know it's not my fault, can I kiss you?" He leans down, bringing his face closer to yours, his lips hovering over yours. 

You are a weak woman, and you know it. It was just one kiss. That didn't mean you forgave him. I mean who are you to deny him one kiss?

You answer his question by hungrily connecting your lips. One of his hands slips into your hair while his other hand slides down to your waist. 

Your hands instantly connect with his hair, slightly tugging at his roots and eliciting low grunts from him. He carefully slips his hand under your pale yellow sundress.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you whisper as he kisses your neck, moving to your collarbone. "What if someone finds us? My dad?" you question, worry coating your voice. 

"You want me to stop?" He questions, slowly pulling his hand out from under your sundress. You eye him before grabbing his hand and placing it back under your dress, causing him to let out a gruff laugh.

"That's what I thought." He cockily says as he slowly rubs through your underwear, causing you to let out a moan.

"You've got to be quiet now." He continues rubbing light circles. "We would hate to have your dear old dad come in, wouldn't we?" You raise your hand to cover your mouth.

He shakes his head. "Move your hand." He commands. You hesitate for a moment. He raises a brow. You finally oblige, and as you uncover your mouth, he shoves your underwear aside and sticks his finger inside you. Making you open your mouth wide, but he is quick to slam his mouth onto yours, preventing the sound from escaping. 

You bring your hands up to lock around his neck for support as he glides his finger in and out of you. He picks up the pace, grunting into your mouth as he feels you tighten around his finger.

"Gettin' close, huh?" He whispers into your mouth. You frantically nod your head. He curls his finger inside you, finally making you release. 

He holds you up while you ride down your high, legs too shaky to stand up straight. "You know I'm still mad at you." You say as you place your hand on his shoulder for extra support.

"I know, sweetheart." He nods. 

Your legs finally stop shaking, and you are able to stand without his support. Your eyes widen in horror. "What are they going to think? We have both been gone for a while." You start pacing. 

"Relax." He gently grabs your shoulder. "They won't know a thing." He assures. You skeptically look at him. He tilts his head.

"You'll be fine. Come on." He guides you to the door and opens it for you.

"So, now what?" You question as you make your way to the backdoor of the house. 

"Tell me about college." He says as he opens the door to the house for you.

Even though you were still furious with Simon for essentially ghosting you, you couldn't help the small smile on your lips at the thought of regaining the relationship you once had with him. 

"Got a boyfriend yet?" He cheekily says.

Baby steps, you remind yourself.

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[vivian-and-friends]

I'm still alive and wanna rp, but I've been low energy, and life has been pelting me with lemons. On the other hand, I'm so excited for Baten Kaito's remaster. We finally have a price for it!

[siblingsoflight]

((I think one of my favorite parts of Kingdom Hearts is the fact that Sora just shows up and vibes. It works so well especially if you wanna do crossover roleplays. Kingdom Hearts is such a fun series to explore as a writer. All fiction worlds are.))

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Birthday Confession

PAIRING | Bucky Barnes x Best Friend!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT | 2.4K

SUMMARY | Bucky never really cared for his birthday, but he suddenly had a different outlook since you came into his life. As long as he can spend it with you—the sweet, soft-spoken neighbor he secretly harbors a major crush on— and his cat, Alpine, he's happy. However, when everything takes a turn this year, you're both turning it into a birthday he'll never forget.

RATING | Mature (M)

WARNINGS/TAGS | Friends to lovers trope, use of Y/N, alcohol consumption, Natasha and Tony are alive, mutual pining.

A/N | This story is written in honor of Bucky Barnes' birthday, which is the perfect opportunity for me to get into the swing of writing for him again! It's written for Bucky's Birthday Bash—hosted by @buckybarnesevents—and includes the prompts Post Endgame Bucky, Friends to Lovers, Reader, and Dancing. The story is not proofread, any and all mistakes are my own.

EVENTS Masterlist | @buckybarnesevents BABB061: March | 3AM Talks Masterlist | @anyfandomaubingo | Neighbor!Reader Masterlist | @anyfandomfluffbingo | Girl/Boy Next Door Masterlist | @fandombingo | "I don't know how to be in a relationship." / "Good, that makes two of us." Masterlist | @marvel-smash-bingo | Best friends to lovers Masterlist | @sebastianstanbingo | Birthday Gifts

Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | Header: Yours truly

Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Bucky never particularly cared for his birthday, but that changed when he met you—the sweet, soft-spoken neighbor who moved in next to his apartment almost five years ago. He used to be a recluse, preferring the company of Alpine, his cat, but something about you made him want to open up and let you into his life.

Now that you had melted his heart and broken down the walls he had built, he found himself looking forward to seeing you. He even dared to say he looks forward to celebrating his birthday because he knows that you will make him the type of cupcake he loves.

It's just after dinner, and he finds himself on his couch, Alpine purring on his lap as he pets her and tells her about his evening plans.

"I'm going to the club later, can you believe it? I never would have even considered it a few years ago, but when Y/N asked me, I didn't even think twice about it," he says with a small smile, shaking his head gently at the thought of you asking him to the club a few weeks ago. He could not say no to you, especially with his major crush on you.

Alpine meows when she hears your name because when you and Bucky got to know each other, you have also fallen in love with her. She's the reason you two even met. The day you first moved in, Bucky went to check his mail on a beautiful summer evening, and Alpine escaped before he could stop her.

She wandered carelessly into your apartment with a loud meow, pulling your attention away from the box you were unpacking. A white, fluffy cat with the brightest blue eyes you have ever seen stood in front of you, and right behind her was the most beautiful, albeit broody-looking man you've ever seen.

"Alpine! What do you think you're doing wandering into this lady's apartment?!" he told the cat, and you couldn't help but chuckle as she meowed loudly when he picked her up.

"I'm sorry," he said, and you smiled warmly at him. Deep inside, you were enjoying the stark difference between the dark-haired, broad-shouldered man and the beautiful white cat in his arms, but they seemed to fit together perfectly as if they were made for one another.

"It's okay; I like cats, especially when they bring along men like you!" you said confidently, and Bucky couldn't help but blush deeply after your comment. Before you could introduce yourself, he turned around and quickly returned to his apartment; the mail he was supposed to pick up had been long forgotten. From that moment on, you were the topic of most thoughts.

Over time, Bucky has slowly accepted you into his life, and being with you has brightened some of the darkest moments of his life. After Steve returned to be with Peggy, Bucky struggled a lot. From horrible nightmares to sleepless nights, he has been through everything. But you always seem to bring a bit of lightness wherever you go, including in Bucky's life.

Nowadays, he is generally a lot happier, but it's even more noticeable when you're in his presence; he carries himself with more confidence. Instead of hiding away all the time, he doesn't mind being seen when you're by his side. You gave him back the self-confidence he'd lost all those years ago, and he will always be thankful for that.

Before he can think about all that too hard, though, he hears a knock on the door and tucks Alpine under his arm before he opens it. He can see you standing there through the peephole and quickly swings open the door to let you in.

You're standing in front of him in a tight, knee-length dress, black heels, and lipstick that perfectly matches the color of your dress. The rest of your makeup is light, and your hair is pulled into a bun with braids to complete your outfit. His gaze lowers to the cupcake in your hand, a candle burning.

"Happy birthday, Bucky! Make a wish!" you tell him in a cheerful voice. With a smirk, he leans down to blow out the candle on the cupcake you're holding, though he already knows what he'll wish for. Each year, he wishes for the same thing: that you become his. This year may be the year for it to come true.

"I got you something special for your birthday this year. It's not every day you turn 107 years old, after all," you tell him, and he can't help but laugh. The fact that he's this old has never bothered you, and he's thankful for that.

The first time you ran into him on his birthday and asked how he was, he couldn't help but tell you it was his birthday. He still remembers how your eyes widened at his words and how you showed up later that afternoon with a book you had recently read.

Your shared love for reading is one of many things you two have in common, so you have developed the tradition of buying books for special occasions. The moment he tore the paper away from the first book you ever gifted him, he knew he would love it no matter what because it came from you.

You found an extra special one this year, though, and you've been dying to see his reaction since you acquired it. It is wrapped in shiny, black wrapping paper with a gold ribbon.

With quick movements, he unwraps his present, and an almost pristine first edition of The Hobbit is lying in his hands. It is the same book he read when it first came out and one he never thought he would see again.

"Why don't you open it up?" you urge him, and he does. Inside are the words he never thought he would see again, and he can't help but get choked up at the sight of them.

'Happy Birthday, jerk' is scribbled at the front of the book, and Bucky knows instantly that it's the version Steve has worked hard to buy him. Tears gather in his eyes as his fingers glide over the words, and he feels deeply thankful for this present.

"W-where—How-?" is all he can manage to choke out before you step forward and wrap your arms around him. He melts into your touch as your cheek is pressed against his chest, and soft kisses are placed on your head as his way of saying thank you.

The two of you stay like that for a few minutes until you feel Alpine's soft fur against your bare legs, making you chuckle before releasing him and bending down to give her some love. Not long after, it's finally time to go to the club where you are supposed to meet the other Avengers, and Bucky calls the two of you a cab to take you there, saving you two the hassle of NYC parking.

"Are you ready to go in, Doll?" Bucky asks after helping you out of the cab and paying the driver. You nod as you go into the club, which is still relatively empty. It's still early in the night as you go and find a booth, and the rest of the Avengers will join later. As you slide into it, you look around to observe the room, but your eye eventually falls on Bucky standing at the bar.

He looks back at you with a wink as he orders your drinks, even though he can't get drunk. Despite that, he still enjoys the taste of it, so he usually orders a beer or two. It doesn't take long for him to join you in your booth, sliding in so he's sitting right next to you, and your thighs are almost touching.

"Thank you for inviting me, Doll. These evenings are a lot more bearable now that you're with me," he says, and you give him a smile before taking a sip of your drink.

"I'm glad to hear that because I know they're a lot more bearable for me when you're here," you say, and he blushes under the scruff lining his cheeks. The pink tint has the butterflies in your stomach going wild, but most of the other Avengers are arriving before you can say anything else.

Tony arrives at your table first, closely followed by Natasha, Wanda, Sam, and Clint. The two of you slide out of the booth to greet everyone, and the three men go to sit on one side while you, Natasha, and Wanda sit on the other side. Luckily, you're still seated across from Bucky during all this.

The conversation during the night's first half is light and pleasant, but the more drinks flowing, the looser everyone becomes. Combined with the number of people slowly filling the club, the atmosphere is starting to get much more enjoyable. You're just about to take a sip of your third drink of the evening when Natasha and Wanda practically pull you out of the booth, begging you to dance with them.

"Okay, okay! I'm coming!" you tell them with a broad smile that doesn't go unnoticed by Bucky. Seeing you getting along so well with his friends fills him with happiness, and no one can wipe off the smile adorning his face. He also knows that if Steve were here with all of you, he would have loved you, too.

The entire time you're on the dancefloor, Bucky's eyes are glued to you. From the way your hips move effortlessly to the excitement on your face, and from the way the sweat drips down your neck and into the valley of your breasts to the way your dress seems to ride up just enough to show a bit more skin, he notices it all.

"Why don't you go over there and dance with her? It's almost creepy when you're staring at her, man!" Sam says with a push against his metal arm.

"I'm pretty sure she's doing just fine with Nat and Wanda over there," he says, looking at Sam grumpily. However, you seem to have gotten the same idea as you return to the booth.

"Dance with me, Bucky! C'mon!" you say, and of course, the man cannot say no to you. Bucky shoots Sam a dirty look before turning to you, sliding out of the booth, and taking your hand. The music has a nice thumping bass, and Bucky allows himself to get lost in it and in the moves your body makes.

While you were dancing side by side at first, it eventually migrated to the point where you're grinding against him, his bulge pressing against your ass while his fingers are digging into your hips. The tension between you two has been building for a long time, and relieving some of it right now feels good.

After dancing like this for a while, you turn to face Bucky, and he can see the way you're enjoying yourself. From the flush on your cheeks to the smile adorning your face, you're looking perfect, and Bucky has to stop himself from kissing you right now. It's not that he doesn't want to do it, but if he goes down that path with you, he wants to do it right.

"Shall we go outside for a moment?" you ask him, and he nods. You lead him out, the cool air feeling pleasant against your skin.

"Are you enjoying yourself tonight, Doll?" he asks you, though he already knows the answer. Clearly, you're enjoying yourself, but he still wants to hear you say it.

"I am, but there's a reason I asked you out here. Away from everyone else's ears," you tell him, his curiosity piqued. He raises a brow as he looks at you, your lip pulled between your teeth as you muster up the courage to finally tell him what's on your mind. You've gotten this far, so now you have to pull through.

"The past few years with you have been amazing, Bucky, but I have noticed that something... changed," you say after a short moment. As soon as those words leave your mouth, Bucky's brows furrow, but you're quick to ease the thoughts in his head.

"I mean to say I'm in love with you, Bucky. I'm not sure when or how it happened, but it has. I understand if you don't feel the same about me, but I've been thinking about this for almost a year now-" is all you get to say before he pulls you against his chest as he dips down to capture your lips with his.

It's a soft, sweet kiss that has you melting into his touch, and neither of you wants it to end. When the need for air eventually takes over your brain, you hesitantly pull away, though your foreheads are still connected as you gaze into Bucky's bright blue eyes.

"I'm in love with you too, Doll, but I have another confession. I don't know how to be in a relationship," he says softly, and you smile at his confession.

"Good, that makes two of us. But if you want to, I want to figure it out together. Something about being with you feels right, and I want to explore it with you if you're open to it," you say, and he nods.

"I'd love nothing more, Doll," he says before he leans down and kisses you again, your head tilting slightly to the side as he does. All four other Avengers are whooping in excitement as the two of you kiss, but you don't care. All you can think about is Bucky and how his lips feel on yours.

"Finally, it took you guys long enough!" Tony says before everyone congratulates the two of you. Before you go back inside, Bucky grabs his phone from his pocket, and when he notices the time, he can't help but smile.

"Y'know what, Doll, out of all the 3 AM talks we've shared over the years, this is my favorite," he says as he shows you the time. You have stayed up with him during his nightmares or sleepless nights countless times, but you cannot agree more. This one is definitely your favorite.

"Happy birthday, Bucky," you tell him before pulling him in for a last kiss. Afterward, you go back inside, and all of you dance until the sun rises again, and it's time to go home. Bucky may have celebrated many birthdays in his life, but not a single one will ever top this one. There's no greater gift than hearing you confess your love for him, after all.

[mxtantrights]

Jadson + Single mother =?

I love you muak Blessings

a/n: I always liked reading single parent au's but I never really did one before. this was a new thing for me I hope you like it!! <333

let's just clear it up, this isn't his first rodeo. He has ample amount of experience babysitting Lian. And he was around when Damian was little (not that either of them comment on it). He knows how to soothe a baby, he knows how to get a child to listen, and he most of all knows how to mix ice cream flavors and not get a tummy ache.

You're probably nervous to let Jason and your child meet, just because you know that if it's not positive then there really is no other thing to do than end the relationship.

So you hope that it goes well.

It goes more than well. It goes perfect and then some.

Jason is really good with kids. He has a lot of patience and knows how to speak to them. Can have a full on conversation with them and not get lost at all.

As far as things go, Jason and your child click like two peas in a pod. You don't worry about it.

Jason steps in when you need help. He sees that sometimes you spread yourself thin to give your child the world. So he offers to do the simple things like laundry, dishes, buying groceries, etc. Anything to just take some of the pressure off your back.

Jason also steps in when it's unexpected. If your child is ever being spoken down to by an adult or mistreated, they tell Jason first. he'll ask you straight up if you want him to handle it. Most times you just handle it on your own. But there have been a few times you let Jason take care of a problem or two.

Also Jason is part of the PTA. You never really had time when it was just you and your child on your own. But when Jason entered your lives, he wanted to help in anyway he could. And that meant soothing your fears about not fitting in with the other parents and guardians.

Jason is handing out cookies and cupcakes once a month along with the other parents on the curb of the school entrance. He's there with a school shirt and everything. He's not embarrassed either he loves this shit. (the school made maybe hundreds of dollars before Jason, while he's there they make thousands.)

[stxrslut]

when the readers have kids what personality traits do they inherit from them?

oooh I love this question!! gonna do it based on what each of their first kids would be like!

sweetie : her little girl is spoiled! very much like sweetie with her expectations but she still has her manners! she loves being pampered too just like her mama! they have spa nights every sunday. rafe loves spoiling her too fr he can’t take her to the store bc he’ll put everything that she points at into the cart

precious : baby precious is shy! she’s always wanting to be held by her or pope but she never lets anyone else pick her up. she makes everyone smile though too shes soft spoken and well mannered, she’ll always say thank you even if she doesn’t like talking that much!

cupcake : cupcake’s babygirl is a handful!! she inherited the baddie trait. she doesn’t give a fuck about anything and she will get her way! she absolutely exhausts jj he never gets a moment of peace with her

angel : her first is a little boy and he gets the curiosity from her 100%! he’s always playing outside and looking at whatever creation of nature he can find. half the time he runs into the house holding a little bug on his finger, and he’s always covered in mud. john b is always trying to be cautious with him but at the end of the day he can’t be stopped he’s gonna play in the puddles if he wants!

[urfavleo777]

warnings: a mention of death, loneliness, depression. soundtrack: last christmas, santa baby, let it snow! let it snow! let it snow!

this is part 1.

The day before Christmas 10:15 PM

"Oh, thank you so much, Y/n," your boss said warmly. A few strands fell onto her narrow shoulders, caressing the fabric of her burgundy sweater. She was no more than sixty but with her class she would still beat most of the modern supermodels.

You've been working at Josephine's shop since November with the main goal of earning extra money for your college. You needed it to pay for your college tuition. Before, your financial situation was making you suffer. You no longer had any hope. You were even close to dropping out of college. But then Josephine appeared, looking for an employee for her Christmas store. After a very long period of poverty you could finally afford a nutritious meal during the day.

Your previous boss didn't treat you right. He was behind in paying you money, he didn't respect the fact that you had studies outside of work, and there were times when he was verbally violent towards you.

Josephine was always understanding towards you and took an extremely sensible approach to mental health. She assured you many times that if you felt unwell, she would immediately offer you a break from work for a few days. You tried not to take advantage of her kindness, so at ten o'clock in the morning you diligently fulfilled your duties in the Christmas store.

Today was quite… different. It was Friday evening and instead of enjoying your free time in your small apartment, Josephine asked you to take over the duties until midnight.

"I have so much mess to clean up at home, and tomorrow is the day. If you said no, I would probably have let all my grandchildren down. Last year I promised them I will bake cupcakes for the next Christmas. They were so excited and happy about it…"

You giggled at her adorable confession.

"No problem, I swear," you assured her, but the woman didn't seem fully convinced. "Josephine, I don't mind staying here for a bit longer. It helps me to relieve stress a lot."

Josephine pursed her lips. Then she straightened her slightly hunched back and whispered with a soft smile on her face:

"Your soul is so pure. Your parents must be so proud of you."

At the sound of these words, spoken with surprising lightness, you immediately stiffened.

Parents, a thought crossed your mind.

Right. She couldn't know.

You brushed strands of long hair from your cheek, smiling awkwardly. Josephine started looking chaotically for her purse. Once she found it, she hugged you and squeezed your hands. When you felt her warmth in your hands, you froze. No one has ever given you as much love as Josephine did in that moment.

"Thank you so much, Y/n, but I really have to go. I'll make it up to you!" She turned and started towards the exit. When the door opened, frosty night air rushed in. An old guy walked in, passing your boss, but you didn't pay attention to him. Instead, you looked in Josephine's green eyes for the last time. She lowered her voice a bit, continuing. "Merry Christmas, Y/n."

Oh, no one in this world knew how much you hated those words. You swallowed loudly, pushing away the feeling of sadness with all your strength. The sight of the smile on the woman's face made you feel a knot in your stomach.

"Merry Christmas, Josephine," you replied, trying to reciprocate this warm gesture. After a moment, you realized that you had said it to yourself. Josephine was already gone. Now in the room, there was only you and an older customer, probably looking around for gifts for his loved ones.

11:55 PM

"Uh, is anybody there?"

You caught yourself falling asleep, but the stranger's nervous and deep voice woke you up.

You looked up from the till and saw an older man standing in front of you. His white beanie and fluffy Christmas sweater definitely caught your attention. You rubbed your eyes and was about to laugh when you realized how thin he was dressed. Okay, maybe he wasn't that old.

It seemed like he had arrived by car, because no one would wear just a sweater in a snowstorm like that. Before you could respond, the man overtook you.

"Okay, okay. I know you're about to close, but listen to me. This case is extremely serious. I drove all over town and, damn it! All Christmas shops are already closed! Can you help me choose the gifts? If you don't help me, I will be.."

You raised an eyebrow, trying your best not to smile. He got stuck in his little speech, but you had no idea why. Instead of continuing, he lost himself in your gaze, completely ignoring the ticking of the clock behind you. His mouth hung open slightly and his eyes which were already almost black seemed to darken as he focused on you. His body went rigid as he searched your eyes. Your heart was pounding in your chest. He was beautiful. You had never thought of a guy as beautiful, and it was strange. It was strange how he seemed to be looking right into your soul. But you didn't mind. No, you didn't care at all.

Or.. maybe a little bit.

In fact, you were the one who jumped back like someone had burned you when you realized it was almost time to close the shop.

"You must leave this store. Now."

"Huh?" he frowned, distracted. It took a while for it to dawn on him. "No! You can't do this to me."

You took the key out of the locker and were in the process of closing the cash register. Shit. Nobody taught you how to do that. That was always Josephine's responsibility and she was the one who always closed the shop. The man looked at you strangely. You decided to pretend you knew what you were doing.

"Do you even work here?" he mocked.

You felt his eyes on you and you clenched your jaw. You glanced up to tell him to piss off, but then your eyes met and the feeling of anger melted away. His eyes were widened slightly as you looked at him curiously. He felt the nerves radiating off of you. You shot him a tight lipped smile and you felt himself smile back. Fuck.

"Shit," you cussed under your breath. "I have to close the shop now."

You were still struggling to close the cash register.

"I'll help you close it," he muttered, still staring at you but you were too tired to even notice. "I've dealt with this before, too."

"And why should I believe you? Maybe you are some kind of thief? "

11:58. Fuck. The time was passing.

"I am not a thief."

"And why should I believe you?" you repeated the question once again.

"Just google my name," he sighed a little tiredly. You blinked your eyes twice, not knowing what he meant. "Let me buy something for my parents and I'll do whatever you want."

When you heard parents, you forgot what he had just told you. You were definitely traumatized or triggered by the word "parents", which was usually noticeable by the sudden change in your behavior.

Your soft breaths echoed through the whole Christmas shop. You lowered your head, completely embarrassing yourself in front of the potential client. It was the second time today. At least you didn't have to explain yourself to Josephine because you were able to mask it before.

"Please, don't hurt him." Y/n cried. "Please, I can't lose him too."

[…]

"Don't take loans on the black market, or you'll end up just like them."

[…]

"I'm completely alone."

[…]

"Shit, are you okay?"

You looked up, grimace on your face as the tall body of a man came into view. He looked concerned as he crouched down before you. His dark eyes searched for any indication you were in pain and when he saw you weren't he held out his hand for you to take.

"I'm okay," you nodded. "What am I doing on the floor?"

"I saw you fall," he said, as he lifted you up. You brushed the dust and dirt from your jeans. "Does it hurt?"

"No," you shook her head, still stunned. "Not much anyways."

"You hit the ground pretty hard," he frowned. "Maybe you should get yourself checked out."

You let out a forced laugh and he raised a brow. "Honestly, I'm good."

He nodded his head, eyes narrowed slightly before sighing. "Let me take care of you. Need a ride?"

God, just a few seconds ago he was using his all strength to buy something for his parents. Unless..

"Show me your pockets."

"What?" he frowned. He tried to find some clue in your eyes. "You think I stole something?"

God, he was atleast a foot taller than you were and you had to crane your neck to look at him.

"Well, seems like I have no choice," he shrugged.

The two of you fell silent, it wasn't awkward but neither knew what to say. He emptied all his pockets, the only things he had were his phone and his bank card.

You wanted to sink into the ground.

This stranger just offered to help you and you thought he was a thief. You tilted your head back, thinking about your next move.

You sighed, knowing exactly what you should do.

"Take it."

You handed him a matching sweaters that you assumed should be for his parents. He sighed in relief.

He was about to take out his card to pay, but you placed your hand on his, trying to making him understand that he doesn't have to pay.

"Just close the till, please." You smiled, feeling a bit better now. "And make your loved ones happy."

"No," he refused quickly "I have to pay for it. There is nothing for free."

It took a while to convince him not to pay. He finally sighed and accepted the two wrapped gifts from you. After he closed the till, he offered you a ride once again.

"Why don't you introduce yourself first?"

You were just leaving the store. It was cold. That was perhaps the understatement of the century. You couldn't remember the last time you had been so cold: the spiteful wind sliced through you like a sharpened blade, leaving a chill that shook you to your very core, and you tightened the thick scarf around you neck, pulling it up over your mouth. You locked the door and both went away, looking for his car, which wasn't parked that far away.

"It's strange that you don't know me."

"Woah, so you're kind of celebrity?" you laughed loudly. "You've got a big ego, man."

You finally reached his car. You didn't even notice the color because it was too dark and the car itself was covered in snow. But it didn't matter.

"Oh, that's very kind of you. Thank you." You said surprised as he opened the car door for you. He gave you a small smile. You took the front passenger seat. When you heard the sound of the trunk being closed, you realized that he must have been putting the gifts in there. You saw him through the snow-covered window. His hair was messy, and his sweater was slightly damp from the snow. His pink cheeks totally stole your heart. He looked like a little child after playing in the snow for several hours

"I'm Y/n," you spoke up as he appeared next to you. He clicked the heat button, smiling to himself. "Normal people usually say their name after my introduction."

"Who said I was normal?" you rolled your eyes before bursting out laughing again.

"You've got a beautiful name," he said, starting the car. "You can just call me Colby."

His eyes found yours and he smiled brightly. Your tiredness melted away instantly and you grinned back at him.

"Colby," you whispered to yourself.

"Hm?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the road. After a moment you could feel the relaxing warmth.

"Uhm," you cleared your throat. "You've got a beautiful name, too."

The corners of your mouth turned upwards. Eventually you stopped having everything under control. It was inexplicable. Every word this boy said aroused some emotion in you. It was strange because you two had just met.

He wanted to know more about you, every single thing. What you like, what you love. A twisted smile formed on his face. As he continued to steal glances at a female, who remained clueless about his mind.

You glanced out the car window, trying to see anything but darkness. Thanks to the car lights, you could have noticed that the streets were empty, not a person in sight that late, not even the stray dog walker or person who decided to go for a late night walk or run. Cars passed by from time to time, but there weren't many of them.

"Not a single soul." Colby sighed, a dreamy smile on his face as he looked down on the road. You nodded, stifling a yawn.

"I bet most of them are washing windows now," you whined, making him chuckle. "Can you take me to the nearest gas station? It's not far from home."

You noticed a slight disappointment on his face, which he quickly masked.

"Yeah, sure."

For a moment there was silence, and you took the opportunity to organize your thoughts. You wondered if you should start a conversation about what happened at the store. You were sure Colby had been thinking about it the whole time, but he didn't want to be too insightful. Even if he asked about your past, you wouldn't know what to answer him. That your parents owed a debt to evil people and died for not paying it off?

You squeezed your eyes shut at the thought. You stared at the moon, trying to calm your thoughts. Then you took a moment to appreciate that wonderful, breathtaking boy next to you. You looked at him in some kind of admiration. He was so beautiful that you were about to cry. You were so close to burying your hand in his messy hair, but it took all of your strength to hold back. A smirk formed on his face as he noticed you staring at his facial features. Instead of laughing at you, he simply changed the topic.

"How do you spend Christmas?"

"Hm?" you muttered, your voice still laced with sleep.

Colby raised his eyebrows at you. "You got a Christmas tree?"

You looked up at him and were torn between telling him the truth or lying.

"I spend Christmas alone. I don't have, I don't have anyone around me with whom I could share this evening. Also, Christmas are overrated. "

"I can help," he said, the words dropping out before he could think about them. Ordinarily, he calculated his sentences, sometimes spending hours or even days thinking about how he would word something, whether it was an email to a friend or a hypothetical debate. But there was no time for that now, the dilemma thrust right into his face with no escape route.

"What?" You swallowed.

"I can help you," he said. "You shouldn't be alone in this time. If you let me, I'd love to invite you to dinner with my p—. " he stopped mid-sentence. You felt like crying. No one in your life has ever shown you as much love as this man. Okay, maybe except Josephine.

"You don't mean that," you said quietly.

"I do," he said, a little more confidence in his voice now. "Let me help. I'll do anything. You shouldn't be alone. You can't be alone. Can I help?"

A faint smile grew over your lips and you nodded, colour rising to your cheeks as your smile grew. "Thank you. But your family-"

"Oh, they will be delighted to meet you."

He seemed nice enough, you thought, and there were surely worse ways to spend the next couple of hours than accepting his helping hand: you could take your mind off the solitude and maybe even make a friend.

But nothing could help you forget your past.

To Be Continued.

[aroeddiediaz]

8x01 coda- depression cupcakes

(Sorry this is super depressing but Eddie needs a nice long sulk after that devastation of a birthday party. Also maybe mild tw for some kind of disordered eating.)

The cupcakes should taste like ash, Eddie imagines. Cardboard, maybe wet sand. Something bland and sour, to match the blankness Eddie has been feeling as he watches Christopher get sung Happy Birthday without him, cut into a cake without him, play with his dozens of new friends in his grandparents’ backyard without him. It went on for over an hour before the laptop sitting abandoned on the picnic table in an El Paso backyard lost battery and winked out.

Instead, the cupcakes are sweet. Cloying, sticky sweet. The frosting sticks to the roof of his mouth and bits of crumbs get stuck behind his teeth. The kind of sugary confection that would have given Eddie a sugar rush back when he was Christopher’s age.

Eddie chews his way through his first cupcake mechanically, then reaches for a second one. Behind him, Buck and Tommy make quiet rustling noises as they take down the decorations and balloons they had helped him set up earlier. None of them have spoken a word since the interactive part of the video call ended.

The second cupcake wrapper falls in a limp heap on the coffee table on top of the first one. Eddie grabs a third cupcake. His teeth ache and his lips tingle as he takes another bite.

What if Chris never wants to come back? What if this is all their relationship will ever be, and Eddie fucked it all up for the last time? What if Chris is so happy with his goddamn pool club and his new neighborhood kid friends and Eddie’s parents build him a pool so he never comes home?

It takes increasing amounts of effort, it feels, to wallow each thick wad of chewed up cupcake matter. It clumps up, sticks to his throat. He can taste sugar now, even when his mouth is empty.

He takes another bite, only to taste dry crumbs on paper. He already finished the third cupcake.

He drops the third wrapper on top of the other two. Somehow Eddie doesn’t feel full, he doesn’t think. At least, no fuller than he had been before he started on the cupcakes. There’s a creeping sour taste in his mouth, and some sensitivity in his molars when he runs his tongue along the gums.

He reaches for a fourth cupcake.

Buck’s hand lashes out and grabs him by the wrist before he reaches the tray of cupcakes.

“Uh, whoa there, buddy,” Buck says with a hesitant chuckle. “Maybe save some for the rest of us, huh?”

Eddie blinks. Suddenly, like his senses had been turned down and just now returned to full volume, he feels aware of sensations all over himself, none of them particularly pleasant. Sticky, greasy fingers. An unpleasant rumble somewhere in his intestines. More dry stickiness across his mouth, chin, and for some reason, a single fingerprint on his cheekbone. And his mouth tastes like a sewer rat had crawled in to die.

Eddie gags a little, trying to summon enough saliva to wash out the sourness in his mouth. He struggles to his feet, ready to duck into the kitchen to grab a cup of water, and maybe gargle in the sink a few times.

Before he can make it anywhere, Tommy’s there, holding a bottle out to him. Eddie takes it gratefully, not quite able to look him in the eyes. “Thanks,” he mumbles as he cracks open the cap and takes a long swig.

Eddie takes a look around. The decorations are all gone now, all the streamers and party hats and balloons. Everything except the half-eaten tray of cupcakes in front of him. Looking at it turns his stomach a little now.

“You guys take the rest of the cupcakes home with you, ok?” Eddie says. “I think i just ate more sugar in one sitting than I did all month long.”

Buck and Tommy exchange a wordless glance over Eddie’s head. Silently, Tommy reaches for the tray of cupcakes.

Buck nudges Eddie’s shoulder. It’s probably the one part of him that isn’t covered in sugar residue. “Hey,” he says softly. “I know that was rough. But I promise things won’t be like this forever. He’ll come around, you’ll see.”

“When, Buck?” Eddie says, clutching the bottle tightly enough that the plastic bends and creaks. “It’s been months already, and he’s barely said a word to me.”

Buck tries for a smile, but his eyes are tight and his voice trembles a little. “You just gotta show him. Show that you’re not going anywhere.”

Eddie nods helplessly. Nothing to do but sit and wait. Sit and pray.

Eddie missed three birthdays when Chris was a baby, out on deployments or in a hospital waiting for his bullet holes to heal up. All he can do is hope that by Chris’s next birthday, things will be different.

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