#those chocolate hearts decorating the cake

[fluentmoviequoter]

Brighter, Sweeter Days

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x shy!fem!baker!reader

Summary: Tim comes to your bakery daily, and you try to brighten his day to get him to notice you. When he finally shows you he has noticed you, there's a lot you have to tell him.

Warnings: minor injuries, fluff!!!

Word Count: 2.4k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Rules

A wave of hot air greets you as you open the oven. Pulling the cookie sheet from the left side and a muffin pan from the right, you smell the intermingled brown sugar, maple, and orange. After the hot pans have been safely placed on one of your bakery’s tables, you close the oven and remove your heatproof gloves.

“I really hope you have more maple biscotti because there’s a really cute firefighter and I can’t slip him my number if we can’t place his order,” your employee, Melanie, rambles as she enters the heart of the bakery.

“Just pulled some out of the oven,” you answer. “It’ll be about ten minutes before we can box them, though. Offer to throw in a dozen free cookies or a coffee traveler.”

“Yes, chef!” she calls over her shoulder.

“And stop watching The Bear before work every day,” you murmur as you check the consistency of a new whipped buttercream.

Several years ago, you opened your bakery in Mid-Wilshire, Los Angeles, and remain shocked at how well it has done. There have been celebrities who travel hours just to try your creations based on the good word of a few locals, you’ve had to close at lunch more than once because you ran out of food, and yet you’ve only been in the front of the bakery a dozen times since opening.

You’re shy, passionate about baking, and less of a people person than most business owners, so you spend your days in the back as your dedicated employees create a friendly and welcoming environment for your customers to come in, enjoy the atmosphere, and try a delicious baked good or slow-roasted coffee.

After the morning rush, during which you make three cakes, drizzle white chocolate on your newest biscotti, and decorate sugar cookies, Melanie returns to the back of the bakery. She sighs and leans on a table.

“How’d it go?” you ask.

“Good. Seemed busier than usual, lots of law enforcement,” she explains, peeking into a mixing bowl.

“Those are scraps from cake pops,” you tell her. “Help yourself.”

“You’re an angel,” she sighs. “A walking, shy so not much into talking, angel.”

You roll your eyes and begin folding chocolate swirls into croissant dough. “And the firefighter?”

“He thought they’d love some coffee but refused to accept it without paying. So, I slipped an angel food cake and my number into his bag.”

You nod and continue working on the croissants, but when Melanie continues to watch you, you know there’s more she isn’t saying. Turning, you set aside the spatula and raise your brows.

“My psych professor moved our exam up and I can’t come in tomorrow,” she explains quickly. “I know it’s your busiest day and I’m so so sorry. I can ask around and see if Cass or somebody can cover me.”

You wave your hand and assure, “It’s okay. I’ll cover you. Good luck on your exam, okay? If you want to leave early today to study or get some rest, do that, too.”

“Now I feel worse for leaving you.”

Tim turns his alarm off and sighs. It’s his birthday, and he’s alone. Lucy insisted on bringing cupcakes, and Angela offered to take him to lunch. Tim appreciates their kindness, but it’s not quite the same as having someone to truly celebrate with, besides Kojo, who he wouldn’t trade for the world, of course.

As Tim gets ready, he asks himself what he’d want if he was in a relationship. What would they do that would make today so different? Breakfast in bed is one of the first ideas that pops into his head. So, Tim searches for bakeries that aren’t far out of his way. One five-star option appears on the list, and Tim reads the directions as he walks to his truck.

As Tim walks in, he notices how nice the bakery is. There’s a line, but it moves quickly. He scans the menu on the large chalkboard over the counter as he waits, but he knows what he wants when his eyes drop to the display case.

An employee places another plate in the case, a birthday cake-flavored mini souffle that makes Tim smile. When he reaches the register, he forgets about the cookie that caught his attention.

You take another order and glance at the line. There are two times when you’re so busy it’s hard to remember to breathe, and you’re currently between those. Though you don’t love working here with customers, you do enjoy seeing the smiles on people’s faces when they find their new favorite.

Someone in the line catches your eye. He’s wearing an LAPD shirt, and you assume he’s a higher-ranking officer. He smiles as Mitch places a birthday cake souffle in the display case, and you wonder if it’s his birthday.

“Good morning,” you greet when he reaches the register. “What can I get you today?”

He hesitates for a moment, then asks for one of your jumbo cookies and two dozen chocolate chip cookies. Glancing at the menu, he also adds coffee to his order. You press the buttons for the two dozen cookies and the coffee, but make a note to include the jumbo cookie for free.

“Mitch,” you call when he passes again. “Take over for a minute?”

“Sure thing,” he tells you.

“I’ll grab that for you now,” you tell the attractive cop, whose name you now know is Tim.

“Thanks,” he replies before stepping to the side with his coffee.

You use clean plastic tongs to place thirty chocolate chip cookies in a branded box, then pull a jumbo cookie from the warmer. It’s already boxed, so you take a marker out of a nearby drawer and write Happy Birthday with a little candle drawn beside it. If it’s not his birthday, he’ll think it was the wrong box, but either way, you hope it’ll brighten his day. With the cookies placed in a bag, you hand it over the counter and thank Tim for coming in. You hope you’ll see him again. With your tendency to work in the back and the high number of one-time customers you get, you try not to get your hopes up.

The drive to the station is spent in silence. The radio is off as Tim enjoys what he considers the best cup of coffee. His mind continues to return to you, the cute girl at the bakery, who he could tell was a little shy. Your service was great, but you didn’t quite meet anyone’s eyes or engage in small talk.

After parking in the station lot, Tim pulls his jumbo cookie from the bag. The birthday wishes make him smile, and he shakes his head as he wonders how you knew. Granted, it could have been the wrong box or something, but Tim prefers the idea that you did it special for him. The receipt is on the bottom of the box, and he pulls it away only to see that you gave him the cookie for free. Maybe it will be a good birthday, after all, he thinks.

Tim enjoys half of his cookie, then returns it to the box to save for later. Tim will most certainly be returning to the bakery because your smile and the taste of the coffee and the cookies together are pretty close to perfection.

Tim sets the cookies on a central table in the bullpen and opens the box. He can immediately tell that there are more than 24 cookies, and he shakes his head at your kindness.

“Happy birthday!” Lucy calls as she runs to his side.

“Thanks,” Tim replies, in a better mood than the last decade of birthdays combined.

“You’re back!” you cheer when Tim returns the following morning. Melanie called to tell you her exam went well, but she had to wait for the essay portion to be graded, and you invited her to rest at home one more day while she waited. So, you’re at the front again.

“I am. Thank you for the birthday note yesterday,” Tim replies, smiling. He has a gorgeous smile, you think. “How did you know?”

“I noticed you smile when the birthday cake souffle came out,” you explain softly, shrugging rather than providing more explanation.

“I really appreciate it. My coworkers loved the cookies, too.”

“I’m glad. You want to try something else today?”

Tim smiles, and you unconsciously move your fingers to the side of the register where you can include discounts and freebies.

“What do you recommend?” he inquires.

“Our maple pumpkin biscotti cupcakes are pretty well-loved. I like the chocolate swirl croissant,” you answer. “It’s new, but..”

“Then I’ll take thirty-six of those cupcakes and two of the croissants. On one condition.”

“Yes?” you ask, furrowing your brows.

“Let me pay for it this time.”

You nod once and type in the order. As Tim steps to the side, you begin helping the next customer and whisper to Mitch to give the officer a small coffee with the excuse of preparing it too soon for a pickup order.

“I’m paying for it,” Tim insists after it’s left on the counter.

You ignore him, smiling as you take another order, and Mitch gives him the bag of cupcakes.

“See you,” Tim calls as he leaves.

“Have a good day!” you call after him.

When you return to the kitchen around 10 a.m., you sigh and set out to make something you think Tim will love.

Over the next two weeks, Tim comes in daily. He gets something for the officers at this station or just a treat for himself, and on one busy morning, he says hello and orders a coffee. You look forward to seeing him each morning, finding an excuse to be at the front during his usual time. He is the kindest customer you have ever had, and you want to ask him out. Each morning, you give yourself a pep talk and get encouragement from Melanie or Mitch, then get shy and fail to tell him how you feel. So, you find a way to brighten his day and remind him you’re there and you see him. You slip him a freebie, give him a free coffee, charge him for a smaller size than what you give him, or ask him to test a new item and get back to you. If it’s not on the menu, I can’t charge you was your excuse for the last one.

As far as you can tell, he has noticed you. He comes in and immediately finds you or keeps his eyes on the kitchen door until you exit. Yet, he hasn’t said any more than you have. Eventually, one of you will say something… or so you hope.

You’ve slowly opened up but can’t speak more than a few sentences before you remember who you’re talking to and get shy again. Tim asks about you, how you’re doing, what your favorite menu item is, what you’ve baked recently, and you gladly listen when he tells you about himself in return. It seems like you're getting to know him, but you still want so much more.

One morning, nearly three weeks after meeting Tim, you glance at the clock again. He’s late. Or he isn’t coming. As you leave the counter and return to the kitchen, you make red velvet cupcakes for a large order and try not to think about Tim. You didn’t say anything for three weeks, there is no reason to assume that he had any real reason to come back.

Melanie enters the kitchen, and you look up hopefully, but she shakes her head.

“I’m sure he was just running late or had to go in early. He’ll be back tomorrow,” she says softly.

You shake your head and begin portioning the cake batter into muffin tins. Getting your mind off Tim will be hard; he’s consumed every one of your thoughts for nearly a month, but you have a business to focus on and more customers than the handsome sergeant who was your favorite daily customer until today.

 Several hours later, Mitch is on the phone when the chime over the door rings. You wave to him and walk out of the kitchen, then stop behind the register.

“Sorry I’m late,” Tim says.

You remain silent as you look at him. He’s wearing a bulletproof vest beneath his shirt, there’s a scrape over his eyebrow that looks recent, and the knuckles on his left hand are darkening. Based on his appearance alone, you assume he was late for a good reason.

“What can I get you?” you ask, breathless, as you move to stand behind the register. “It’s on the house.”

Tim smiles, and you have to remind yourself to listen. He orders your favorite, then places his hands on the counter and leans closer to you. You nod, then blink and ask him to repeat himself.

“Your favorite,” he says.

“How do you…”

“You told me. I remembered.”

You lick your lips before whispering, “Why?”

“The same reason I know that you hate working at the register because you’re shy and it drains your energy. You’d rather be in the back with your recipes and music than up here with customers. The reason I know you own this place but don’t advertise it because you don’t want the attention. All of that, all of you, is why I keep coming back. And I’m really hoping that those things will be why you say yes when I ask if you’ll go out with me.”

You swallow but can’t form words yet. Your answer is yes, of course, it is. When you open your mouth, though, you ask, “Are you okay?”

Tim smiles again and says, “I worked all night and could really use some of your amazing coffee.”

“You missed breakfast?”

Tim extends his arms so his hands are closer to yours and corrects, “I missed you.”

“Yes,” you whisper. “I really want to go out with you.”

Tim nods, then thanks Melanie when she sets a coffee cup on the counter beside him. He sees your number on the side and smiles, but you drop your head momentarily to avoid the embarrassment Melanie provides.

“I promise we’ll do something you’ll like,” Tim assures as his fingers brush yours.

I’ll find the courage to do anything with you, you want to say. Deciding that is more of a second date statement, you merely nod and ask Tim, “Do you actually want my favorite or is there something else you’d prefer?”

[munson-blurbs]

hope you don't mind me asking but could reader adopt harris officially? it'd be a sweet little blurb ☺️

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: Harris makes a special request on his birthday: for you to adopt him and officially be his mommy.

TW: mention of parental neglect/drug use, pretty much just all fluff and happiness

WC: 2.2k

A/N: Happy Mother's Day to all of the moms out there! Y'all are badasses who deserve to be celebrated. I used this video for the judge's dialogue to ensure accuracy.

February 2001

“So, Har,” Eddie starts through a mouthful of cake, “did you have a good birthday?”

Harris nods emphatically, digging into his own slice. A dollop of vanilla frosting dots the tip of his nose, but he continues eating, unbothered.

Eddie looks at you as you try to contain the inevitable mess that Hendrix will make. His chubby cheeks are already decorated with chocolate cake, and he’s only a few bites in. “Can you believe we have a nine-year-old now?”

You shake your head. The years truly have flown by, and though you haven’t had the privilege of being there for all of them, it feels as though Harris’s fifth birthday was only yesterday. 

“What’s crazy to me is that Harris is the same age you were when I took you in,” Wayne says to Eddie. He glances at his nephew, a wistful look in his old eyes. 

“Oh, yeah!” Harris grins. “I forgot you took care of Daddy.”

Eddie leans back in his seat and smirks. “Did you ever regret adopting me, Old Man?” 

“Every damn day.”

While he may have tuned out his dad and grandfather’s back-and-forth, you can see Harris pause before he continues eating. He’s never been one to stifle his curiosity, the wheels in his head turning as he processes the information. 

His time to ask a question grinds to a halt when Hendrix slams his little palm right into the cake slice, grabs a chunk of it, and smashes it into his face. If any actually got in his mouth, it would be a miracle. 

Harris gets his opportunity later that night. Eddie tucks him into bed, pulling the SpongeBob comforter up to his chin, and kisses his head. 

“Daddy?” Harris asks before Eddie can stand up. 

“Hmm?”

“Why did Grampa adopt you?”

Eddie exhales, chewing on the inside of his cheek. As his eldest son has gotten older, he’s become more honest with him, not constantly shielding him from painful truths. He chooses his words carefully before speaking again. 

“Well, my mom and dad weren’t good parents. They didn’t take care of me, and they made a lot of bad choices,” he says. Memories flash through his mind, ones of eviction notices and strangers constantly in his home. Ones of police officers snapping handcuffs on his parents’ wrists, the two of them too far gone to even register to the severity of the situation. He shakes it off, turning his attention back to Harris. “And so Grampa Wayne took me in and adopted me so I would have a safe, happy home.”

“Like how my mom made bad choices? My real mom?”

Eddie nods, wondering if Harris knows how closely their situations resembled each other. Except you did what your father didn’t–you changed, he reminds himself. 

“Yeah, like that.”

Harris thinks for a moment. “But now Mom is my mom. So does that mean she adopted me?”

“No, she didn’t adopt you.” His heart sinks when he sees the small pout forming on Harris’s lips. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Why not?”

Eddie scratches at his jawline, his nails digging into a particular itchy patch of stubble. “Well, honestly…we wanted to make sure it was what you wanted, Har. Because Mom will love you no matter what,” he makes sure to add. 

Without any hesitation, Harris declares, “It’s what I want.”

“Are you sure? You can sleep on it—” Eddie feels a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth despite his attempt to remain neutral. Yes, his son often acts on impulse, but Eddie can tell this isn’t one of those instances. 

Harris huffs out an impatient sigh, irritated that he even has to explain himself. “Dad, I’m nine now,” he says matter-of-factly. “I’m almost double-digits. And I know I want Mom to adopt me.”

Eddie grins wider, pressing a kiss to his son’s forehead. “All right, bud. You got it.” He stands up with a grunt, something that Harris has already dubbed an ‘old man noise.’ “We’ll talk about this more tomorrow, okay?”

“Mm-hm,” Harris agrees sleepily, cocooning himself in his blankets while Eddie turns out the light. 

Eddie is teeming with excitement when he sees you sitting in the family room, an open bag of sour cream and onion potato chips in your lap. Hendrix was fast asleep in his crib, and it was finally time for you and your husband to relax. 

“So,” Eddie says, sliding onto the couch cushion next to you and plucking a chip from the bag, “it turns out that the birthday boy has one more gift request. A big one, actually.”

You raise your brows. “How big? Like, Hot Wheels track big or space camp big?”

“Neither.” Eddie’s eyes gleam. “He wants you to adopt him.”

You sit up quickly, a smile stretching across your face. “Are you…are you serious?”

“One hundred percent.” Eddie says with a nod. “He insisted on it, actually. I don’t think you could say no even if you wanted to.”

His teasing would normally draw a snarky retort from you, but you’re too overwhelmed to come up with a quip. “Harris wants me to adopt him,” you say slowly, letting each word seep into your tongue. 

Eddie kisses your cheek, his nose brushing your warm skin. “This is everything I ever wanted for him, you know,” he murmurs. Another kiss, then he tilts your chin so he can place his lips on yours. “Thank you for loving him.”

You snuggle in closer, your head resting on his shoulder. “Thank you for letting me.”

September 2002

It’s a special occasion when you can convince Eddie and Wayne Munson to wear a suit and tie, but you didn’t even have to ask today. Both men are dressed with their shirts tucked into their slacks—not jeans. 

You smooth out a pleat in your dress, scoop Hendrix out of his Pack-N-Play, and grin at your family. 

“You guys ready?” You ask, desperate to get everyone into the car before someone spills something on their clothes. While Harris and Hendrix would be the most obvious culprits of a mess, the men are just as capable of causing chaos.

Eddie slings Hendrix’s diaper bag over his shoulder and takes Harris’s hand in his. “Let’s ship out, team.”

“Ship out!” Hendrix echoes–loudly, right in your ear. You wince, but you can’t stay annoyed for too long, considering how happy you are. How happy everyone is; even the baby of the family, who doesn’t know why he’s in a good mood, just that he is.

Everyone piles into the sedan: Eddie in the driver’s seat, you in the passenger seat, and Wayne squished between his grandsons in the back.

“Don’t know how I ended up here,” Wayne grumbles, reaching behind for his seatbelt. 

Eddie grabs your hand as he pulls onto the road, giving it a tender squeeze. This is a huge deal; logically, you know this. To Eddie, he’s officially giving his son the mother he always deserved, and you’ll be able to make all sorts of important decisions for Harris. But to you, there is no piece of paper that can strengthen or weaken your love for your oldest son. Still, this is a promise from you to Harris, one that you will never break.

The courthouse’s silence is promptly broken with the Munsons’ arrival, as your family’s presence tends to do. Hendrix enjoys the way his delighted shrieks reverberate down the empty hallway, and Harris grips a nearby bench to jump out his nervous energy.

“Har?” you call out, waving him over to a private spot. He stops jumping long enough to follow you, shaking his hands excitedly.

You crouch down to his height and dig through your purse until you find what you’re looking for: a shiny silver compass with a quote engraved on the back:

“If you don’t get lost, there’s a chance you may never be found.” 

“Uncle Dusty recommended his favorite compass, and he said you can bring it on your next camping trip” you say with a smile, your lower lip trembling as you hold back tears. “I hope that every time you use it, you remember that I’ll always be here to help you find your way.”

Harris looks from you to the compass and back again. He grins and flings his arms around you, nearly knocking you over in the process.

“This is so cool!” He cheers. “I’m gonna show everyone!”

“What do you say?” Eddie reminds him, a twinkle in his eye.

Harris barely turns around to you to yell, “Thanks, Mom!”

Mom. That title never gets old, and you don’t think it ever will.

“Munson?” You jump slightly when a bailiff announces that it’s your turn to see the judge. He gives a small smile as you enter the courtroom, probably relieved that this is a joyful occasion that won’t likely require his intervention.

This is it, you think. You wish your dress had pockets to hide your trembling hands.

Everyone takes their positions. Harris stands between you and Eddie, and Wayne holds Hendrix at the end, ready to make a quick getaway in case the youngest Munson decides to throw a tantrum.

The judge addresses you directly. Her tone is firm but warm as she says, “Do you understand that if your petition for the adoption of Harris Wayne Munson is granted, you will be legally responsible for him?”

“Yes.” You feel Harris’s palm slide against yours; when you briefly look down, you see that his other hand is holding Eddie’s.

“And do you understand that this support includes food, clothing, shelter, as well as medical and educational support?” She continues.

You nod. “Yes.”

“And do you understand that if your request is granted, that you will be Harris’s parent in all respects, just as if he had been born to you?”

“Yes.” Your heart swells with love. Just as if he had been born to you. Even with the memorable pains and trials brought on by carrying and delivering Hendrix, you considered Harris just as much your son.

“And do you understand you will be undertaking the intellectual, spiritual, and moral guidance of Harris?”

You can almost hear your husband’s thoughts: Better her than me.

“Yes.” 

The judge goes through a few more questions, all regarding your abilities to care for Harris. With each one, you feel Harris’s bouncing get more exuberant; part of you wishes you could join him.

Finally, she declares, “Based upon the reports and recommendations, this court finds that granting this petition is in the best interest of Harris.” She looks directly at Harris as she says, “Congratulations, she’s officially your Mommy.”

A choked sob escapes your throat, and your free hand flies to your mouth. You and Eddie both crouch down to embrace Harris, and you can’t help but notice the tears in your husband’s eyes. Wayne makes his way to you and, as best as he can with Hendrix still in his arms, wraps you in a hug. You think he might be the only adult not crying, but a tell-tale sniffle gives him away.

Hendrix is very confused by the overt display of emotion. The last time Wayne cried was well before the boy was born, back when the Colts won the 1970 Super Bowl against the Cowboys.

“Daddy? Mommy? Grampa?” He asks. “Why you cry?”

“We’re fine, buddy. Just have some big feelings. Happy feelings,” Eddie clarifies, kissing Hendrix on a chubby cheek. He looks at Harris and grins. “How does it feel, Har? Now that Mom adopted you?”

Harris scrunches up his face. “Like the same.”

You laugh and ruffle his hair. It’s not as wild as it was when he was your student, his curls less of a mop. “Good ‘the same’?”

He grins, nodding and hugging you again. “I can’t wait to tell all of my friends, and Uncle Dusty, and Mr. Will…”

Harris continues listing people he’s going to share his news with all the way to the parking lot. Some names you recognize, and others he might as well be making up.

“Wait! I almost forgot!” You reach into your purse and pull out a Ziploc bag containing five Oreos. “Everyone take one, but don’t eat it yet.”

When each person has an Oreo in their hand, you raise your own to eye-level and begin your toast. “To my first son, Harris. Thank you for making me a mommy.”

“To Harris!” Wayne and Eddie chorus, and Hendrix just yells his brother’s name before chowing down on his cookie. 

As you all pile back into the car, Eddie takes your hand in his. Chocolate is still tucked into the crevices of his lips. 

“To you, Sweetheart. Thank you for being the mommy Harris always wanted. Thank you for making us a family again.”

The kiss tastes of vanilla creme, sugary sweet, and you swear you wouldn’t have broken it if Wayne didn’t clear his throat. 

“No need to make a third kid up there,” he mutters under his breath. 

Eddie glares at him, hoping Harris didn’t overhear the comment, but you press on. “Shall we celebrate at the diner?”

“Can we share pancakes?” Harris beams.

You crane your neck and look back at him, once again overwhelmed by the amount of love you hold for him–for your son.

“I’d love to.”

--

[lemon-berri]

Imagine Gojo Satoru with a partner who loves to bake...

Everyone knows this man has an abominable sweet tooth. He quite literally doesn't stop, sometimes you swear he has a bottomless pit where his stomach should be. How does he eat that much sugar and still look that good anyway?

But he's also a busy man. Oftentimes he works into the early hours of the morning, he doesn't sleep much, and what little free time he has he prefers to spend with you.

Satoru thinks he's the luckiest man alive. Not only is his sweet partner the most gorgeous person he's ever witnessed, not only do you take amazing care of him, but you also bake.

It's a common occurrence for him to wake up on the mornings to the smell of something sweet enticing him towards the kitchen. He finds you there. Usually you wake up bright and early so by the time he saunters out of bed you're already washing up. He always stops you. After all, you've been up putting your efforts into baking - it's only fair that he does the washing.

He loves to try the new recipes you attempt. Macaroons? He's inhaling those. Strawberry pie? Gone in one sitting. Once you made a Bruce cake, Satoru still swears that was the best day of his life.

He's definitely the type of partner who'd take interest in your hobbies. Seeing you happy makes him happy- why wouldn't he want to be a part of your joy? So sometimes you bake together. Albeit, to varying degrees of success.

Satoru tries his best, he really does. But he can't help the fact he's quite messy in the kitchen. Folding batter turns into a splashing mess of ingredients around the kitchen. His face is white with flour. How did he get icing on the ceiling?

But there are also the times it goes well. When he wraps his arms around your waist from behind and watches with interest how you decorate cupcakes with floral frosting. Or when you stir things together, your slow and steady pace mixed with his strength.

You kiss batter off his fingers to taste test your creations. While he leaves sweet kisses on your cheek where flour has somehow stained your beautiful skin. You both choose your favourite flavours and toppings together, and come up with all sorts of ideas on what to make. Whether chaotic or sweet, baking together is always more fun.

His heart melts when he finds the little treats you like to pack him with his lunch. A triple chocolate muffin, perhaps some cookies. Sometimes he finds cake pops decorated like various characters in there. And you leave him sweet notes to go along with it, ones that get him through any hard day.

The house always smells like sugar and the sweetest of fruits, the fridge is full to the brim with treats, and that sweet smile of yours is enough to give anyone a sugar rush. Ever since you came into his life, everything's been sweeter. And he wouldn't trade your dynamic for the world.

Dropping this and running away.

Once again this isn't proof read if you find any spelling errors please do hesitate to tell me.

Thank you for reading 🩵 ily all

[leqonsluv3r]

hi! i love your writing sm so i wanted to ask you if you could do a short fic about leon’s first day at the rpd and reader is a detective or someone who works at the rpd and they become friends or something else <3

just the thought of leon being silly and shy about the little party they made just for him to say “welcome” makes my heart skip a beat……..

anyways have a good day! <33

so high school

—leon joins the police department and you just know that he’s going to be everything to you, a blurb

masterlist taglist

an: i hope this is what you had in mind <33 i left it open ended at the ending for your guys imagination. thank you guys again for 900, i love you all. sorry it’s taking me so long to get out all my requests. they’re open again in my bio. pls reblog, comment and interact to support your writers.

the first thing you thought of when you saw leon was how he was too cute to be a cop. that was your first thought, your second was how is this man single.

you didn’t know he was single at first, but for his entry papers, it didn’t say anything about a spouse or an emergency contact girlfriend. which made you very, very happy.

he was a sweetheart, he left a lasting impression on you and you didn’t know how to handle it. helping you carry files to the file room and taking desk duty in stride.

he was humble, sweet and outgoing.

you didn’t really see any faults in him, not at all. most guys you did date in the past, you could see the red flags from a mile away. like a big ugly tattoo on their forehead that just said: STAY AWAY! IM TERRIBLE!

but with leon, it wasn’t like that.

he didn’t ever say anything negative about anyone, he didn’t mention hating being on desk duty. he just simply lived and did his job, same as you. it made you feel lighter being around him. especially getting to know him, getting an idea of him.

you liked him a lot.

you realized that when you agreed to host his welcome party two weeks after he had been hired, most entry coordinators didn’t want too. but you practically jumped at the opportunity to give him his dream welcome party into the unit.

you planned it all out, you went a little overboard. which wasn’t always a bad thing but in this case…it was extreme.

you never did this for any of the other rookies welcome parties you helped organized, you never went this far. blue and yellow balloons, a large chocolate cake, a big banner that you custom designed. all made for leon and based on his tastes over the last two weeks you’d known him.

but when he arrives, a surprise, he sees all the effort. he sees all the decorations and he sees you. he never had felt so welcome in his entire life.

his mom never even put this much effort into his birthday party’s when he was a kid. so his surprise wasn’t fake, it was real and it was written all over his face as he scanned his room of coworkers leading all the way to you.

you, you were so welcoming. so goddamn magnificent that it made his head spin, you got him everything he wanted right down to a T. all the decorations, the cake…the banner.

it was everything.

you were everything, he’d had a crush on you the first day he started. the first day he saw you and you swiped him up into your world. he felt like he was on a different planet half the time when he was with you.

he had to tell you, he owed it to you.

after all, you did throw him an amazing welcome party.

he made his way to you half-way through the party. you were just so gorgeous and he liked you so much, god. you were so…he couldn’t even put words to it.

if he had to pick a dream girl, it would be you.

and he didn’t even realize he had those standards until you came into his life, making it turn from a dull throbbing gray to a beautiful multicolored world. one that used to be so drab for him but now…

now it gave him purpose.

and if you rejected him, at least he got to say he tried. got to say that he attempted to reach your heart, your mind…just you.

he might look like an idiot if you said no, but at least he was attempting. he was trying to make that attempt to confess and not be a coward in front of people like he usually was.

“you did this all for me? i knew you were up to something.” he says with a small smirk on his face when he approaches you. his blue eyes scanning you with nothing but appreciation. something that made butterflies flutter in your belly.

you shrugged innocently, your face heating up into flames. “i just wanted to give you a good welcome. you deserved it, especially when you got saddled with desk duty.” you crack a smile up at him, your eyes never leaving his.

“i don’t mind desk duty. my view is pretty great.” he says with a subtle teasing smirk as he looks down at you, you knew that his desk was a few over from his and he could look directly at you. you bite on your bottom lip and your cheeks flush a deeper scarlet.

you look up at him, “i’m glad you like it,” you gesture to the party around you. all your coworkers talking and the decorations. “i worked hard…i just wanted you to feel welcome.”

he smiles widely, dimples and all. “it worked, i feel welcome. you’ve made me feel welcome.” he feels himself admitting as his blue sparkling eyes rove over you.

you feel your body become hot beneath your pencil skirt and blouse, “uhm, i-i yeah, well…” you try to say but fail miserably, gnawing on your bottom lip.

“anyways,” he saved you with a small smile, tilting his head down to look into your eyes. “i was thinking that maybe we could…uhm, go out sometime?” he managed to get out. he felt like it was hot in here, like his uniform was strangling him.

your heart was beating out of your chest, you blinked up at him. you almost felt like you could pinch yourself because this couldn’t be real. he couldn’t be asking her out, he couldn’t like you like you liked him.

“uhm, me…me? you mean me right?” you swallow, your mouth suddenly dry despite the punch you were holding in your hand. he smiles beautifully at you, showcasing his cute cheeks and his straight teeth, “yeah, i was talking to you. unless you see any other beautiful office managers around here?” he says with a small scan of his blue eyes over your frame.

you felt like you were about to melt into a puddle on the floor. his words and his eyes, dear god.

you straighten your spine, “i’d…i’d love too.” you manage to get out with a small gnaw on her bottom lip to hold back the smile threatening to beam on her face.

he feels relief flood over him, the amount of it was overwhelming. you had no idea how much he needed to hear those words from your lips. to hear you say that you wanted to go out with him.

“that’s-thats cool, yeah. i’m…i’ve been wanting to ask you that for a while.” he admits with a small quirk of his lips, feeling the nerves frazzle out of his body and short circuit his brain.

you can’t help the smile and blush that coats your cheeks, to feel the liking that was reciprocated by him. even after throwing him this party, it was still nice to know where you stood with him.

but you knew now.

“me too.” you blush as you keep your eyes on him, the party continued around them but they stayed deep in their conversation. like it would pain either of them to tear the attention away from each-other for five seconds.

“i’ve wanted…to ask you out, but ive been too nervous. i didn’t know how you would react.” you say softly as you sip on your drink, trying to find something else to focus on besides the red on your cheeks and the thrumming of your heart.

he smiles gently, “your too pretty to be nervous. but i would’ve said yes.” he says with a small wink in her direction, he had no idea where this confidence was coming from but he was glad he found it in this moment.

you look down at your punch in your hands, trying to will your heart to relax for five seconds. you were going to go out on a date with him. you were talking to him. he liked his welcome party…he was flirting with you.

it was safe to say you had him.

and he had you.

“i can’t wait for our date.” you say softly, looking up in his direction. your eyes gleaming a little as you stared at him, with something bordering on fascination and excitement.

he grins sheepishly and looks down at you, taking a small step closer. “me either. your gonna look so beautiful. your always beautiful but…i bet you look even better out of work clothes.” he says with a small gesture of his blue eyes up and down your frame.

you tuck some of your hair behind your ear, “thank you.” you breathe out some air, trying to calm the nerves and the erratic beating out of your chest at his compliment, his eyes. just everything about him.

it made you feel like you were a giddy high schooler with a crush. like you were back in school and you were talking to a guy you were so enamored with, it just made sense with leon. you were so comfortable around him but your feelings made you feel like a frazzled teenager.

like you were back where you once were, it was exciting.

you knew he was the one, even if you hadn’t had the first date yet. you just had a gut feeling.

and your gut was always right.

taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @argreion @sqiim @adollrable @leonkennedygvrl @cherubify @porcelainseashore @squazmine (if you wanna be added interact with the link at the beginning <33)

[catapparently]

Kaz Brekker Headcanons

Cat entering her hc era thanks to my maid of honor @x-liv25 . Please go read her TIG headcanons!

MASTERLIST

Kaz once said "you shouldn't make friends with crows," "why not?" "they don't have any manners." I headcanon that he tried to feed a crow and actually be nice to it but it bit him so now he forever holds the grudge

He has a stack of makeup in his desk drawer in case he needs to change his face up a bit for a job and he's excellent at it

At some point, when he was still struggling with finding a job after Jordie's death, he stole someone's purse and found bronzer/contour that he used to draw himself abs to look strong and "hirable".

He doesn't mind touching animals without his gloves

He realized that when he tried to save an abandoned kitten in the rain when he was younger

He felt bad for it because it reminded him of him and Jordie

He saw it as a debt-ish to Jordie to save the kitten

It once brought Kaz a mouse as a gift and Kaz genuinely appreciated the gesture

Kaz POV: "What a distinguished gentleman who knows I'm worthy of great gifts and appreciation"

Kaz knew he couldn't really keep a cat in his line of work, it'd be a weakness, so when it was old enough, he snuck it into Pekka's office and watched the vicious little feline tear Pekka's stuff to shreds

"A cat after my own heart"

When Kaz got the Dregs tattoo, he didn't want the artist to touch him, so he tattooed the logo himself. It was a bit shaky but then he hired a Tailor to fix the edges without touching him

Alternative solution to the bad edges: He fixes them up with stolen foundation whenever he isn't wearing long sleeves or something that would cover it up.

They day he first saw Inej and she snuck up on him, he had a panic attack but hid it well

At this point in his life, he was used to being in control, to knowing everything. Having Inej sneak up on him (and knowing that she could have potentially killed him without him having time to retaliate had she been trained) freaked him out. He felt weak, Kaz Rietveld again.

Kaz spends half an hour every other day locked in his office without his gloves, lathering his hands in hand cream.

Whenever he'd grab someone by the collar or any form of violence with contact, the last thing the victim could think about is why his hands smell nice. Nobody ever lived to tell the tale.

He's a sucker for a good chocolate cake.

He absolutely HATES ice cream. It makes too much of a sticky gooey mess for him.

He also probably has a sensitive throat so he doesn't really eat cold/frozen stuff or drinks

Once he made a deal with Nina which resulted in him going to a café to buy her a pumpkin spice latte. Once he sniffed Nina's, he quickly bought another one for himself and chugged it before he could get back. Obviously he did that in a dark alleyway so that nobody could see him and use it as blackmail.

Once he used (obviously stolen) paint to decorate his very own set of cards.

He then made another elaborate plan of his and managed to auction them off for a grotesque amount of kruge.

Probably forged DeKappel's signature on the back of each with perfect precision

For those that forgot, DeKappel is some famous painter in the series. Kaz stole a DeKappel oil painting from Van Eck.

Help I didn't realize how fun HCs were, I could make a thousand of these

[shadowhearts-ponytail]

christmas with abby anderson!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist ˚୨୧⋆｡˚⋆

a/n: I love winter so so much! and I love abby, so here you go!

warnings: this is just fluffy Christmas activities. there is a bit of a suggestive joke. but nothing too bad. let me know if I missed anything!

words: 1,066

abby is a Christmas girly. for sure. she loves Christmas. it is the most wonderful time of the year for her. by far. her favorite holiday. she goes all out.

abby has one of those mistletoe hats. the ones that hang mistletoe over you and another person. she wears it all the time as an excuse to pull you into a kiss. her hands on your hips as she leans down to plant a long kiss on your lips.

she has mistletoe all over your shared apartment. for extra kisses. in every single doorway. she keeps some mistletoe in her pockets to pull it out when you both are out so she can hold it over your head and pout for a kiss.

making Christmas cookies. she's a sugar cookie girl. simple. easy to make. plus, she likes decorating them with frosting after but will complain that the frosting "makes them overly sweet" when she's the one that drenched it in red and green icing and snowflake sprinkles.

she always makes cookies to give to her dad. she always makes him a big tin full of different kinds. chocolate chip, sugar cookies, oatmeal cookies, snickerdoodles, gingerbread men.

she's actually quite a skilled baker. old family recipes she knows by heart. muscle memory usually kicks in when she kneads the dough. she hums when she bakes. while she waits for the oven, she'll do a little dance if she thinks you aren't looking.

she makes fresh bread and cakes and so many sweets around the holidays. she's not one to eat sweets, but she loves making them for friends or family.

she makes enough to feed a damn army of 5,000 gren men and then sends them with you to work for your coworkers or to your family.

"no, baby. you know I hate cookies and cake. just give it to your family. or I'm sure your boss would love 200 cookies, right?"

"sure, abs. sure. whatever you say." you playfully roll your eyes at your girlfriend as she has once again gone overboard with the Christmas cookies, just like last year and the year before that. it's tradition at this point.

getting custom Christmas stockings with your names on them. the stockings mean a lot to her. getting to fill your stocking with little gifts, candies, and love notes would bring the purest smile to her face. and seeing her stocking next to yours. she loves seeing it. she's always wanted that. wanted someone to make her a stocking with her name on it.

she would get alice one and put it next to both of yours. full it with dog treats and chew toys. she says it makes you three a family.

abby buys alice a new collar every year and gets those doggy Christmas sweaters. she gets alice bones to chew on and toys and clothes to wear. that dog is spoiled rotten.

abby would want to take "family photos" with you and alice. she has alice wear one of the shirts in the photos.

she like hires a photographer, and everything. you go out to some field or somewhere nice to take professional pictures. she hangs them in your apartment and makes a Christmas card with them to send to both her family and yours from "The Anderson Family."

"I hope it's okay I used my last name. I'm sure you'll end up taking it anyway."

when she says this, you about choke on your water. "i-" cough, cough, "Yeah, that's fine, baby. I'm sure you're right." you tease with a little wink.

abby gets you small gifts every day of December up until Christmas. a small bouquet of flowers, a little handwritten note, candies. simple things. she sees it as an extra excuse to spoil you. not that she ever needs one. but she's just a sappy romantic like that.

she always wants to come home to you as soon as she gets off work to cuddle up and watch some Christmas movies, and warm up the apartment by cooking you dinner or baking.

abby probably isn't one of those people who's crazy particular about the ornaments on the tree. like they don't have to be all the same colors and shit. she would like handmade ones more. ones that were passed down in the family. sentimental ones.

she always puts the same star on the tree every year. one her dad got her as a gift. it'd very important to her. she packs it in a metal box wrapped in bubble wrap and blankets to keep it safe.

but she refuses to get on the ladder and out it on the tree. she's too scared of heights. she won't get further than the first step on the ladder.

"abby, cmon. just put the star on the tree. I'll get the ladder."

"No! I can't. what if I fall and break my neck?" she asks with puppy eyes and a big pout.

"abs are you serious? the chances of that are, like, zero!" you argue back to the muscled woman before you, "besides you're taller than me."

instead of arguing back, she picks you up in her massive arms and hoists you to sit on her shoulder.

"abby!"

"there. now you're taller. now you have to do it"

she wears boxers with Christmas prints on them. snowmen, reindeer, santa, snowflakes.

you guys are bickering about something meaningless, and to lighten the mood, she just unbutton her pants and push them down to her knees to reveal boxers with a mistletoe print on them then yell, "kiss it then!"

you can't help but burst into laughter and clutch your stomach as you double over in a fit of laughter.

abby looks at you with a cheeky grin, "still mad at me, baby?"

abby is a fanatic about Christmas lights. she likes going to the park closer to Christmas to see all the lights at night. she'd be so excited. begging to go every night until they take them down.

she brings you to the annual anderson family dinner. the first time she brought you, she was so excited, but you were so nervous.

she was practically bouncing with joy when her dad brought you into a tight hug the moment he met you. he immediately started to talk your ear off. making you feel welcome.

you are definitely invited to next year's dinner.

a/n: feedback is always welcome!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I've been dreaming of the Ruler of the Abyss.

Kneel to the Thorn Fairy, who shall make manifest one’s dreams—the wishes made by the heart.

He promises happy endings for all. Woe to those who doubt and defy his vision.

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

Alone.

He has always been alone.

But alone he is no longer—not when he is in his castle, surrounded by hordes of his people. He will never be alone again. No one will, all thanks to his efforts.

Never, never, never.

Malleus easily traverses the thorn-crusted lounge, floating across them like a specter. The bodies of school staff and fellow students lie limp in chairs and couches. Eyes closed, chests rising and falling rhythmically.

As he passes, he runs a hand along their scalps. Brushing their hair, patting their heads. Tender touches wishing them well.

Here is a king's domain, and here are his subjects. He, the dragon guarding his trove of invaluable treasures.

Malleus turns to face his captive audience, arms spread out toward them. “Today is something of a special occasion: Night Raven College’s Founding. I do believe this warrants a celebration—and, of course, all are invited to the festivities.”

A wave of magic washes over the room. Conical party hats manifest on each person's head, decorations appearing from thin air. Banners drape across the walls, streamers spill from black-clothed tables laden with food, and balloons tuck into the corners, safe from the needle-like thorns.

He projects applause, stunned oohs and aahs. Here, he is not a monster, but fellow man.

"Hmm, we're still missing something." Malleus strokes his chin, deep in thought. He snaps his fingers. "Ah, that's it! Music. It's not a proper party without any music."

With the wave of his hand, he summons a series of floating instruments. Bass, cello, viola, violin, harp, each bathed in an eerie green glow. They start playing by themselves, as if being handled by skillful, invisible hands.

Soft orchestral song fills the venue.

The guests rise, puppeted by the strings of his magic. Thorns on the floor retreat, allowing his peers to spill over onto the area repurposed for dance. Heads loll over--Malleus frowns and fixes them.

"There we are."

A glittering assemblage.

He smoothly conducts the bodies into neat pairs.

A waltz, he thinks, is ideal. It is also one of the few forms of dance he is familiar with. A waltz it shall be.

Palms link, fingers intertwine. Hands upon shoulders and upon backs. And then they are set to the hypnotic swing of the music, slow and sweet and intoxicating, like a steady drip of honey into one's mouth.

Malleus threads past the avid dancers and to the one person that has not been matched. The little bat who had almost flown away, far out of his grasp.

"Lilia," Malleus breathes raptly, "look at how happy everyone is. No one was left out. No one was forgotten. No one has to be alone anymore."

With this gift... my blessing... I've protected their smiles.

The duty of any Draconia.

He's proud--elated--but Lilia, alas, does not share the sentiment. Instead, the ancient fae wears a placid expression, eyes sewn shut. The same as all the other guests.

Malleus chuckles. No one hears it but himself.

"How exciting your dream must be. Action and adventure, at the best of your strength... I'm afraid this humble gathering cannot compare."

He’s sure Lilia would agree with him, were he awake.

“Never mind that," Malleus says, dispelling the thought. No more what ifs, only there ares. "Would you care for food? You'll need to keep your energy up for the celebration--it just may last all night."

He beckons with a finger, and a platter with a large cake hovers over. It is an extravagant seven layers, each a different flavor. Details are piped on in buttercream icing, invoking the image of each dormitory. A chocolate raven, wings open and prepared for flight, crowns the dessert.

A cake knife slides into Lilia's hand. His fingers slowly closer around the handle. With Malleus's guidance, he cuts into the topmost layer--Diasomnia--of the cake.

Something thick, red, and sticky leaks from the insides. The knife is coated as it is pulled back, freeing a slice. The violet crumb is fine, the frosting neon green with a dark chocolate drip.

Devilishly decadent.

"Come, you must try this," Malleus insists, stabbing a fork into the cake. He stuffs the bite into Lilia's mouth--but it doesn't stay, just rolls out and lands with a squishy splat on the ground.

Malleus eagerly waits for Lilia to beam at him, to praise him for its deliciousness.

It never comes.

Malleus laughs as though Lilia has responded as he imagines him to. He's drunk with delirium.

The strings abruptly screech, the dancers ceasing in their revelry.

He lets the unfinished slice fall. The plate shatters, reflecting one hundred Malleuses, one hundred Lilias. So many realities, and yet this is the one he has been dealt.

He guides the corners of Lilia's mouth upward, forcing a smile.

"Happy Night Raven College Founding Day," Malleus whispers, "and may you all have the sweetest of slumbers."

To his guests, to Lilia, to himself. And to the world that will soon be joining them in this delightful, never-ending dream.

Raising a hand, he unleashes fireworks from his palm. They explode in wild shapes and colors, emitting warmth and dazzling lights. The display is beautiful but fleeting--long shadows running along the walls before they blip out of existence and return to the darkness.

Every dream is like a firework, he surmises. A fiery flower frozen in time at the height of its bloom. They shall never wither nor fade.

Malleus reclines into his seat--a spiked and scaled throne, mounted high above the party venue. A lone king, untouchable.

Seated upon a mountain of lies, he looks out at his twisted kingdom. It’s a scene of his own creation, props lovingly places and toys carefully posed, acting out situations in his head.

The average school day at Night Raven College: students bickering, teachers watching over them. They see him, smile and wave. Talk with him, invite him.

Stay with him.

A loop playing, forever and ever.

Malleus sighs contentedly.

This is his happily ever after—from now until the end of eternity.

[kortsitron]

Valentine's day

✮ PARING Spiderverse × Gender Neutral! Reader (separate)

✮ WARNINGS/TAGS fluff

✮ SUMMARY Spider's and the Valentine's day

✮ A/N apologies if it's mostly like the most common things (literally never been on a fucking date, someone take me out)

Miguel O'hara

𖹭 I can definitely see Miguel as someone who didn't have much time for any romance for a long while before you came along. So he's awkward, on the inside he's a little worried that he might screw this up

𖹭 He texts you to tell you to get ready for a specific hour and that he's hoping to pick you up. After that, he'll be waiting for you with a bouquet of red roses. You can tell he's a little nervous

𖹭 He's taking you to a fancy restaurant for a dinner. He still might be a little nervous, but soon relaxes because he's with you.

𖹭 Soon, Miguel is smiling, laughing and joking. Forgetting about the multivariate and enjoying his time with you

𖹭 Miles is little nervous, he wants it to be perfect. He prays for that and also the fact that he doesn't need to save the city that day. If he has to, most likely will babble to the villain about how their running the very special day for him and might scold them just a bit

Miles Morales (Earth-1610)

𖹭 You've been together for a while, but while getting ready he has some doubts. He's scared he might forget your favorite things. He's just being paranoid

𖹭 For sure his mom and dad helped him with deciding what to get for you. And in the end, Miles gives you the biggest teddy bear he could find. Cheesy? Maybe a bit. But seeing the smile on your face when he gives you that teddy bear makes his heart skip a beat

𖹭 Besides that, he's going with some sweets and chocolate for you

𖹭 Definitely asks his mom for advice. And does everything he can to make sure his uncle doesn't take him out on a mission. It's Valentine's day, he doesn't want to have anything on his mind other than you

Miles Morales (Earth-42)

𖹭 The city can be quite dangerous without Spider-man in the universe, so he doesn't want to go out even though there's so much you two could do

𖹭 After some thinking and wondering, he decided to take you to his place and make some valentine cake with you. It's not much but he still thought it would a nice activity for the those of you

𖹭 For some reason he thought wearing a black shirt while baking was a good idea. So yes, he is all covered in flour, not only his shirt but also his face. You can't stop giggling whenever you look at him

𖹭 Miles can't help while stare as you decorate the cake, seeing you focused gives him butterflies. 

𖹭 When most of the time Hobie can found on protest or in the pub, you won't find him there that day. It's Valentine's day, he's not just gonna leave you alone on that day.

Hobie Brown

𖹭 He's not supportive of capitalism, so everything he gives you is handmade. For example, have you seen those cute diys on Instagram or Tiktok? You can expect something along those lines. 

𖹭 That said, expect him to give you handmade bouquet of roses and some handmade cookies. They're a little messy, but still hella cute

𖹭 He doesn't really mind doing anything specific. If you wanna stay in bed and cuddle, he's in. Want a romantic dinner? Only at the local restaurant, so he can support the person, but still really into it! Anything you want, he's just happy to make his special person happy

𖹭 Pavitr asks you to be his Valentine's almost like a kid – with a handmade Valentine card

Pavitr Prabhakar

𖹭 He's a big ball of energy on the Valentine's day. He's just happy to spend this day with you!

𖹭 He's taking you out to the cinema, that's for sure, and then takes you home so you can eat a little romantic dinner.

𖹭 He got some cute little decorations, so the mood is even more romantic. So of them he made himself while others are store bought.

𖹭 He cooked it all by himself, with a little help from his auntie. He asked her for help because he wanted the food to be perfect. Besides, his aunt helped him also because she likes you.

𖹭 Instead of typical bouquet, Pavitr's gonna give you a bouquet made of sweets and jellies.

[jo-harrington]

You don't have time for Christmas.

Work and home and this friend in a crisis.

Work and home and, let's be honest, probably work again.

And before you know it, it's December 20th and you don't even have any decorations up. Barely anyone does. The neighborhoods that are usually lit up with lights and figurines enough to rival the Griswolds are noticably dark this year.

What holiday? What festivity? It's wake up and hustle and lay in bed in a dreamless sleep. Then wake up to do it all again.

You are a cog in a machine.

You don't know how to voice these things, your displeasure, the secret yearning for the pomp and circumstance and childhood whimsy for the holiday season that's tucked somewhere deep inside your weary body. You can't bring yourself to indulge in it.

You're tired.

You glance down the card aisle at the grocery store but don't stop to grab any for friends. You pick up a bag of peanut butter bells for your candy jar at work but then second guess it at the checkout. Gifts are bought with as much care as you could, but you can't even bother to wrap them as prettily as you usually would.

You can try again for Valentine's. Chocolate hearts with the crispy rice inside and roses for your coworkers. Something.

But this year, you don't have time for Christmas.

And he notices.

It starts with cookies.

He likes to bake--started with boxed cake mix and then you bought him a handheld torch one year so he could try his hand at creme brûlée after he watched a little too much Jacques Pepin on PBS--so it's not anything suspicious. No ulterior motives detected.

Only he's dug up the little handwritten notebook full of your grandma's favorite recipes. Grandpa's handwriting because he wrote it while she dictated. Cookies he's never tasted before himself but seemed to have nailed exactly the way she made them. The love he poured into the treats matched hers exactly.

He brings you a plate and a cup of cocoa when you come home and collapse on the couch.

You cry when you eat them. And he lets you.

Then he digs out the tree from the garage.

The one-car garage that you pay extra for doesn't fit either of your vehicles but fits all your crap. You both vow to clean up at some point and never do. He slogs through the boxes of old band tees that don't fit him and kitchen crap that you don't miss or really need, to get to the plastic 6 ft tree that used to have stickers to note which bough went in what slot but those are long gone.

He spends hours figuring it out and decorating it, and imagine your surprise when you come home to an otherwise-dark apartment illuminated by the fat, colorful incandescent bulbs that you're sure he spent a significant amount of time untangling. You'd both given up last year and went without lights. But there they are.

"What?" you drop your bag by the door. "What is this?"

"I dunno," he grins proudly. "Thought it would be nice. Get in the Christmas spirit. Saved the star for you to put on top if you want."

And you did. You wanted it so bad. Ever since you were a kid, you were the one to put the star on top of the tree.

After it's up, you marvel at the special care he's taken with the important ornaments. Fragile little wooden ones from your grandma, popsicle stick frames with baby pictures of both of you, a macaroni snowman that he gave his mom once-upon-a-time that his uncle had stashed away, and then a fancy hallmark one you got the year you moved in together.

They all have special places on the tree and tell a story of your lives, separate and then together.

You both lay under the tree that night, staring up at the glittering lights as you hold hands.

Finally it's Christmas Eve. Which to him really meant nothing, but to you meant the world. Christmas Days were spent with individual families but Christmas Eves of old meant a big dinner and time spent with your cousins and It's a Wonderful Life on the TV.

It's a tradition that got put to the wayside as everyone got too old and too tired. As you started getting scheduled to work, like this year. And it's almost worse this year, as you've done a stretch of you-can't-remember-how-many days, that you even turned down an invitation for the two of you from your mom for a small dinner with her.

You're exhausted by the time you get home and, more than anything, you're looking forward to the day off tomorrow.

Not the holiday. The day off.

Still, you remember to bring in the handful of gifts from their hiding place in your trunk. You don't really do gifts between the two of you anymore. Nothing big at least. Just a cheesy little thing. Something fun, not something serious. But you did a little more this year than you usually would--all of the OT you'd clocked for one, and too many things you saw that you knew would make him smile for another.

You try to tip toe into the house as quietly as possible so you can throw the boxes under the tree and shower but he's vigilant. He's been at the stove cooking for a while, and he greets you at the door as you shut it behind you.

"I thought we said no big gifts," he admonishes you and snatches the boxes from your hands. The wrapping paper isn't festive--just brown craft paper you stole borrowed from work since you wrapped on your lunch--but you managed to slap on some red and green bows from the drugstore that you grabbed the other day.

"They're not big," you explained. "I promise."

"Well neither are mine," he winked.

You slap a hand against his chest and then give him a kiss in greeting and thanks.

"One better be the RC racer I wanted when I was nine," he mutters against your lips.

"Hmmm, you're just gonna have to wait," you tell him. "And no shaking the boxes.

You're almost a little ticked off'; one of them is the RC racer.

You kick off your shoes as the smell finally hits you.

Dinner.

Thick and savory and fragrant.

Some kind of fish and roasted potatoes and the starchiness of a pasta and the tang of its sauce.

Recipes, again, taken from your grandma's little notebook. They stir something deep inside of you. That yearning you never voiced.

The weariness that's been slowly building within you finally comes to a head when you make it to the kitchen and see the pots and pans and two plates already portioned out.

An ice cold beer for him, and a Shirley temple, extra cherries, for you.

"Remember when you told me," he comes up behind you and his arms snake around your midsection, "that you and your cousins would sneak extra maraschino cherries from the fridge when your gram wasn't looking. And then she went to go get them for the pistachio salad and they were gone."

Your knees shake and you practically collapse against him.

"Speaking of which, there is a pistachio salad in the fridge for dessert."

"Why?" you sniff.

"Because that's actually my favorite, so sorry to your grandma's tiramisu." He pecks a kiss to the side of your head and rocks you back and forth. "But if you want to make that for New Year's Eve, I won't say no."

"No," you let out a watery laugh. "Why are you so good to me, why did you do all of this?"

"Because I know it's been a hard few weeks. Few months." You can feel him shrug. "Fuck, it's been hard for me too but...I know this is one of your favorite parts of the year and you just...haven't been in the spirit for it. So whatever I could do to make it happen for you..."

You turn in his arms and bury your face in his shoulder, in his neck, so he doesn't see your tears. Again. Worse this time as you begin to shake from your sobs. He shushes you, runs a hand over your back, and leaves kiss after kiss against your head.

"Baby, I'll do anything for you," he tells you, voice thick with emotion. "I just want you to be happy."

"I am happy," you whine against his skin. "I'm so...so happy."

"Good."

"Thank you," you repeat it over and over again until it feels like you're empty of all the void and indifference that have filled you for the past few months are gone. In their place just...love and gratitude for him.

"Merry Christmas baby. I love you."

"I love you too, Merry Christmas."

[ghulehunknown]

Papa Headcanons - Valentine’s Day 💕

Rated PG-13 for implied adult themes!

Oh my goodness, it’s Valentine’s Day! How will your beloved celebrate with you?

~💘💝💘~

Primo

Gives you a beautiful bouquet of roses grown in his garden

Surprises you with herbal tea in bed while he makes you breakfast

He arranges for everyone in the Ministry to send a secret valentine to an assigned person, so you all get a cute card or treat

He’s surprisingly very into theming so he wears a red robe and mitre that day, and eats lots of pink foods

He gives everyone a single flower, even his least favorite ghoul

Says he has a nice surprise for you later; lit candles everywhere, your favorite snacks, a bubble bath, and some lingerie for…certain activities after you relax 🛁

Secondo

Also surprises you with breakfast in bed, complete with one of those silver covers that he flourishes as if you just got fancy room service

Packs your lunch for you that day with a cute little note which you proceed to keep in your wallet for a long time

He relieves you of your Sibling job duties a few hours early and arranges for you to have a massage done by the Ministry’s massage therapist

He arranges Valentines karaoke for the ghouls and siblings, the setlist being rock’s greatest love ballads and also some Celine Dion mixed in

Bakes you a cake (or whatever your fave dessert is) and decorates it with pink heart sprinkles

His final gift of the day is flowers with some very nice jewelry…and also a new lingerie set. He wants to see you in the set wearing the new jewelry he got you, saying it’s a gift for him too and he wants to admire it

Terzo

His penis. He gives you…his penis, wrapped in a bow. “Breakfast in bed, mm?” he’d say (don’t worry, he offers to go down on you too)

Okay, okay, he actually comes back with coffee, cigarettes, and Pop-Tarts

Has flowers sent to you while you’re both at work so you’ll think of him all day (so all your coworkers/the other Siblings see what an amazing boyfriend you have)

Encourages everyone to leave work early that day so “you can all go fuck each other!”

Orders sushi takeout (or whatever you want if you don’t like sushi but author happens to love it) and has made a whole setup of pillows and blankets on the floor for you to watch cute movies while you eat dinner and snacks

Gives you naughty conversation hearts and says you have to do whatever it tells you to…they’re instructions for bedding you later

Scatters rose petals all over the bedroom, lights candles so the room looks very romantic and promises to make love to you like never before

Copia

You wake up to utter chaos - a burning smell from the kitchen and rats running all over the place. “Eh, it was supposed to be a surprise…we’ll get takeout.”

But you’ve already DoorDashed pancakes for the pair of you, because somehow you knew he’d be too stressed to handle everything

He’s genuinely very excited to celebrate Valentine’s Day so he can go all out to show you just how much he cares about you

He decorates his office and room the day before - all pinks, reds, and purples with hearts everywhere

He gifts everyone in the Ministry a cute little paper valentine, like the kind you used to pass out in elementary school

Says cheesy but sweet things all day, like asking you to be his valentine, making puns like “bee mine buzzzzzz,” etc.

Smothers you in hugs and kisses

Wants to watch rom coms with you before going to bed that night, complete with themed snacks

He bought you matching V-Day underwear

Nihil

Gets you one of those generic heart shaped chocolate boxes from the drug store

He also leaves a very mushy, sentimental hallmark card on your nightstand

“Why do we need a special day? I love you everyday!”

He doesn’t arrange anything for the Ministry as a whole but he does make sure to do the bare minimum for his partner

[cheralith]

all i wanted — gojo satoru, ft. geto suguru

content warnings: gn!neutral, no pronouns or body parts mentioned, angst

he can't believe what he's seeing.

in the park's gazebo that sits near your apartment building, there you are. settled underneath its vines and ivy and the sunset looking overhead in the sky. a bundle of colorful flowers gathered in your arms with a large heart-shaped box of chocolates nestled underneath. there's a plethora of matching shaped balloons settled around the floor of it, all red and pink and white and shiny, resembling mirrors that shine your much too happy face that doesn't face him...

but another.

there you are, hiding your shy smile behind a hand and giggling at whatever suguru is murmuring as he pushes a lock of hair away from your flustered face. satoru fists his own bouquet of flowers he gathered last minute hidden behind him, evidently frustrated as he bites his lip so hard that it draws blood. his seem so weak and desolate compared to the larger than life bouquet suguru has given you; a bouquet that shows careful arranging and organizing of each flowers, not the flimsy, clustered flowers that satoru grabbed on his rushing way to see you to declare what he had been hesitating to say for the longest time.

his knuckles turn white and pulse with a fiery ache from how hard he was grasping his now-bent flowers, doing his best to shove down the thick lump in his throat as he sees suguru wrap his arms around you and pull you closer to him as you accept his valentines proposal of "be mine?" written on a small, but intricate lunchbox cake decorated with colors that replicate the balloons. satoru doesn't miss the small bunch of boxes seated on the benches of the gazebo already unwrapped, the leaves of their wrappers nestled nicely on the ground—there's more presents than flowers in his bouquet, and satoru cannot feel anymore pathetic. his flowers can't compare to the intricate set-up suguru has created. he thinks its almost a mockery of sorts.

it's not fair, he thinks. you've been friends with satoru in the same length that you've been friends with suguru, and he's sure that both of them have harbored feelings in a time frame equivalent to each other, so why does suguru get first pick? he's the one that broke off from you, him, and shoko... he's the one that left you mysteriously in the dust those years ago... he's that ignored you on the first couple semesters of college up until a few months ago...

but satoru was there. why can't you acknowledge him in the way you acknowledge suguru? satoru was there every step of the way—his shoulder was the one you cried on. his arms were the one you ran to when you celebrated a good grade on a test. his presence was the one that comforted you in the bane of suguru's absence.

but here's the problem.

you did acknowledge him. you had actually acknowledged satoru's place in your life so much and valued it to a degree that you took the risk of perhaps making it more than just a mere long-term friendship. maybe it wasn't explicit, but it was implied enough to the point where it struck fear in satoru's heart.

and he ran away from it like the coward he was—terrified to his wits end that another suguru situation would happen again to him, in which his feelings already engrained so deep within him that if there's the slim chance that you'll leave him like suguru did, there'd be nothing but a deep and hollow pit in his heart. a relationship would just increase that chance—and he wasn't going to take any chances of that happening.

satoru thought he'd never fathom two large chunks of his heart being empty, yet here he is—facing what remains of his heart that belongs to you in the palm of the other person who owned the other half of it and tore it away all those years ago.

the ground feelings more dense, locking him in place and forcing him to watch the scene that unfolds before him.

if he was just a few mere hours faster, he knew that he could be in suguru's place is he was just stronger, if he was just willing to pay the small price for a potential forever with you. it was a severe last-minute decision, but he knew that's what he wanted, what he yearned for. what he even needed, perhaps.

yet, his hesitation has paid its dues.

your back is to him, thankfully. but suguru's eyes flicker up from your smiling face that he holds tenderly in his palms to share satoru's grief-stricken one. for a second, his face in unreadable to satoru, until a cruel smirk snakes on suguru's lips.

and, while never breaking eye contact with satoru, those same lips reach down and share a soft kiss with yours, your forever now being in suguru's hands that just barely pass his own.

the bouquet of frail flowers fall to the ground, yet no feeling returns to satoru's hand. only a cold wind of nothing grasps it back.

[kakujis]

happy birthday, keisuke!

synopsis: you celebrate keisuke's day with toman.

warnings: gn!reader, swearing, this is fluffy and gross, yn can't bake for shit (me), not proofread, and that should be it!

ft: baji keisuke x reader, 1.2k

network: @enchantedforest-network

a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE LOML!!!!!!! i set aside my hw and all to get this finished hehe. it's still the 2nd in my area, but ik it's the 3rd elsewhere! i tried to keep it short and simple this time!! i won't get sappy or anything but i truly love baji so much!! happy birthday, kei, hope its a good one. ♡

with the amount of staring you’ve been doing, you must as well be losing your vision, the words on the screen blurred and hazy. you’ve scrolled through the ingredient and instruction list an obscene amount of times, and yet… things seem to always turn out like this. 

“i’ve got no fucking clue what i’m doing!” you huff, but the silver haired man besides you simply laughs in reply. “mitsuya, why does my cake look like one of y’all rolled it over with your motorbikes?” 

“to be honest,” he starts, snickering as he inspects it, “i have no idea. i mean, you followed the recipe and all didn’t you?” 

you nod, sadly staring at another failed attempt. he decides to take a piece and taste it, throwing it into his mouth, chewing with an unreadable expression.

“it’s not like it’s inedible, it’s miles better than your first attempt. it’s just a little dry and crumbly…” mitsuya says, brow furrowing, “alright, honestly, it’s pretty bad.” 

you sigh loudly, picking it up and throwing it into the trash, “i told you we should’ve gotten him a cake from the store!” all your attempts have been moot. instead of a fluffy and moist cake, it’s always flat and dry even with mitsuya’s help. 

kazutora pops his head into the kitchen at that moment, “i can run really fast if you want me to.” 

you shake your head, “...no. don’t… do that.” you point to your forehead, signaling him of the decorations stuck on his. 

he shrugs, pulling off a stray streamer, and walking in before he’s jumping up to sit on the counter.“how are we gonna have a birthday party with no cake?” 

you frown, whining, “man, i don’t know. mitsuya, what do we do?” 

he glances over at the clock, mouth pressed in a line, before he answers. “you could always stick a candle into his soba noodles, we've got tons of those.” 

“we are doomed.” you state, sighing as you slump against the counter. “sorry kei…” 

even though you know, deep down, that keisuke baji could give less than two shits about a cake, you really wanted to surprise him. you did the same for him on white day, all those years back in highschool when you finally confessed. he accepted it, shitty chocolate and all, as you hid your burnt bandaged fingers behind your back. he never mentioned it, but you assume he knew, when instead of kissing your lips, he dragged your hands out from behind you and kissed your them while your heart almost sprang out of your chest. 

“who’s doomed?” you hear a loud yet comforting voice coming from the hallway. you look up to see draken, smiling ear to ear as he holds a cake box. 

“draken!” the three of you giddily call in unison and he smiles wider. 

mikey isn’t far behind him, peeking out to say, “there’s no way you guys thought we were gonna eat a cake they made right? it’s literally y/n, we would’ve died. i think baji almost did when he ate your confession chocolate.” 

“i’m going to ignore that for now.♡︎” you chime, keeping the strained smile on your face. 

“you guys are so mean to my protégé.” mitsuya chides, giving you a pat on the back. “anyway, we’re running out of time before he gets home, let’s finish this up.” 

you all nod and run off to your places, with you cleaning up the kitchen, and yourself, as best you can before you head out to the living room. the decorations are strung up nicely, courtesy of emma and hina, although takemichi, chifuyu, and pah definitely tried their best. you’re a little nervous, heart fluttering, as the lights dim and everyone crouches in place. 

you wait a few moments, eyes adjusting to the now darkened room as you catch a wave from chifuyu right before the front door slams open. equally as loud as the slam shut, baji talks to his mom on the phone. 

“yeah ma, i just got home. thanks for hangin’ with me today. huh? oh yeah, i’ve got plans with the guys tonight…” he mutters, phone pressed up against one shoulder as he kicks his shoes off. “unfortunately, its just the guys, said they couldn’t get off work early enough..” he trails off, a solemn expression on his face and you bite back the urge to laugh. 

“alright, love you ma, talk to you later.” he says as he hangs up, placing his book bag onto the floor. as he hits the lights, you all pop up out of place. 

“happy birthday, baji!” you cheer out in unison. it’s an explosion of streamers, confetti, and colors with some of you using party poppers and some of you using the blowers. 

he jumps while breaking out in a shit-eating grin, his pearly canine teeth in full view. his eyes scan the room til they fall onto you, the excitement sparked behind them clear as he immediately makes his way over to you. 

“no fuckin’ way,” he laughs, throwing his arms around you, before peppering kisses on your cheeks. “should’ve known you were a liar.” 

you hug him back, but pull off slightly, when you suddenly feel the heavy eyes of everyone around you. “o-okay keisuke, that’s enough.”

he presses a final kiss to your forehead before turns and glares, “huh? you guys got a problem with this?” 

mikey glares back, “yeah. i do.”

baji releases you, walking over to “square up” with mikey. the two of them bickering about the importance of everyone showing up, but also, a significant other is important too, and besides, “i was about to greet everyone, it’s not my fault you can’t find a date.”  

“here we go,” draken sighs, before sliding onto the couch. “emma, can you get me something to drink?” 

you shrug, settling in next to kazutora who’s excitedly bringing out the games for the night. the rest of the party goes well, the laughter bouncing off the walls of your shared apartment. it’s a nice little life you’ve got with baji so far. while he studies his ass off in school, your work is good enough to support the both of you. it’s cozy, it’s everything you’ve wanted. 

as the night winds down and everyone clears out, you find yourself cleaning up. you tell keisuke not to worry about it, “it’s your night, i’ll finish up here.” but he tsks you away, shoving littered plastic forks and plates into a bag anyway. he finds you in the kitchen later on, washing a few trays that were used to set the food out. 

he snakes his arms around your waist, breath tickling your ear as he asks, “so where’s my cake?” 

“huh?” you giggle, turning off the sink. “what are you talking about? we ate it all earlier?” 

“no, not that one.” he grins, his pretty hair falling over your shoulder. “the one mikey told me you made.” 

you freeze, that little shit. “uh… honestly, we threw them away. even with mitsu’s help, i couldn’t make you anythin’ good.” 

“well, that’s no good.” he hums for a bit, before spinning you around, a devious smile on his face. 

“kei?” you ask, but you’re interrupted by his lips on yours. 

“guess i gotta settle for somethin’ even sweeter.” he murmurs, before his hands are cupping your cheeks as he kisses you again and again.

“you’re so fucking cheesy.” you giggle in between kisses, hands naturally coming around his waist. “happy birthday, keisuke.♡︎” 

[mncxbe]

Hi, it's my birthday next week, so may I please request Bram, Tetchou, Sigma and Ranpo celebrating their s/o's birthday with them (could be anything.. from headcanons to scenarios to oneshots and from fluff to smut, I don't mind)? No rush, take your time, please!

omg happy early birthday nonnie🎂 and ofc I loved writing these hcs hope u like it too. I was planning to do smth lengthier but I got caught up with work and couldn't buuut enjoy♡♡

°☆○

Spending your birthday with them♡

𝑩𝒓𝒂𝒎, 𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒎𝒂, 𝑻𝒆𝒄𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒖, 𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒑𝒐 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff♡

𝑩𝒓𝒂𝒎

"Ah, birthdays. I've had plenty of those"

he's not really sure how people celebrate anniversaries now, so he has to ask Aya about it

his original plan was to organize a big feast for you but he ends up making you dinner instead

if you want to have a party with your friends he'll agree to join, but he'd much rather spend time with you alone

in the evening the two of you would take a bath; with bubbles and candles and then just cuddle and watch a movie

Bram is especially gentle with you on your birthday and right before you go to bed he's gonna confess his love for you in the most old fashioned, romantic way possible. considering his status in the past I think he's highly educated so he knows his way with words

I see him gifting you jewelery

𝑻𝒆𝒄𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒖

Tecchou would ask you days before if you want to have any fancy party and would lowkey be relieved when you tell him that you only wanna spend your bday with him

due to his job he can't spend all day with you, but as soon as he gets home from work he hugs you and spins you around, wishing you happy birthday

then he takes you to a nice restaurant for dinner

he's the type to write you birthday letters and leave sticky notes with little heart shaped drawings around the house

Tecchou tries to bake you a cake and asks Jouno or Tachihara to taste it, but because he uses weird ingredients it turns out terrible so he just buys you a small cupcake instead

BIRTHDAY FLOWERS!!!💐💐

as for presents he gets you anything you want, really. if you're not willing to tell him what your heart desires too bad he's gonna contact all your friends and ask them what to get you

he cuddles you to sleep and tells you how much he loves you, how happy he is he got to spend another year with you♡

𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒎𝒂

Sigma would panic at first cuz he dosn't know what he's supposed to do for your birthday; he never celebrated his own so... yea

when he researches it on google and finds out he's supposed to get you a gift he freaks out again cuz he doesn't know what to get you

but eventually he ends up buying smth small like a plushie or books you've got on your reading list and a box of chocolates

he makes you a homemade birthday dinner and decorates the table with candles and flowers hhhh he's so romantic

now Sigma would be willing to get a little spicy with you if you want it; he doesn't mind it at all. you want bday sex? ok. but at the end of the day he still wants to cuddle you♡

in the evening he probably asks you what you usually do for your bday so he can be better prepared next year

I don't really see him being keen on big parties so he won't organize anything of the sort

𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒑𝒐

he wakes you up in the middle of the night like 1 a.m just to make sure he's the first one to wish you happy birthday

if you don't work for the Ada Ranpo would get a free day from work to spend time with you♡

and oh my if you know his colleagues he would throw you a small birthday party with them (Dazai's idea ofc)

baking a cake with Ranpo for your birthday is a must. Poe helps him do the shopping the day before so you've got all you need and of course, you end up doing most of the work while he just admires you and keeps sticking his fingers in the dough to "sample" it.

I don't think he'd get you a big gift tbh; he has the "what do you mean sugar? am I not enough of a gift for you?" mentality. he's also so much clingier than normally

now two words: birthday sex. this man is wakes you up with head and doesn't let you go to sleep in the evening until you've came at least two times.

Ranpo is usually lazy in bed but for your birthday he's willing to do all the work; after all, your special day is only once a year♡

[ghsttk]

the first.

Scenario: you give him the first slice of your birthday cake.

Warnings: female reader, friends to lovers.

Word count: 1012

a/n: English is not my first language.

First of all!! let me educate you about this lovely brazilian tradition!!

on birthdays in Brazil, after singing happy birthday to you, the birthday person must cut the first slice of the cake and choose a person to receive it. The birthday person chooses who they love most among those present, so there is almost always a short speech before the slice is handed over. This tradition is so important that there are families who fight each other for the first slice.

Everything was perfect. The decoration was impeccable, the delicious sweets were placed on the table, the gifts on the bed in your bedroom, and friends and family gathered. And don’t forget about the big, round chocolate cake in the center of the table, adorned with three colored candles. The cake was a gift from your grandmother, she always took good care of you and your two younger siblings. And now, you’re finally turning nineteen!

Johnny walks to you, chewing. You’ve been friends since the first year of high school, you two are inseparable. He says something but you can’t understand the muffled sound, since he’s with his mouth full. “Ew, pig, swallow it before speaking. I can’t understand.” You laugh softly and slap his shoulder, teasing him. He chuckles and nods, swallowing whatever he is chewing. “..Was that one of my cupcakes?” You gasp, but not really bothered. “John, you ain’t supposed to eat that yet!” You playfully scold him and he laughs.

“I’m sorry, princess. I was hungry.” He shrugs, his laugh turning into a chuckle. “Um, I have a gift for you” Johnny clears his throat and gestures to you to follow him. He leads you to your bedroom, walking closer to your bed where all the gifts are displayed. You don't mind him entering your bedroom before you, your house is his already. He picks up a bag and searches for something inside before pulling out his hand, and showing you his middle finger. You laugh at him and shake your head “Idiot, I hate you” You say before he hands you the bag. “I hate you more” He winks and anxiously gestures to you to open it.

You oblige, seeing a small black box inside. You're a bit confused, but knowing John it is probably a prank, the box might be empty or with a message like “sikee”. But when you open the box you see a beautiful, shiny bracelet with a small heart pendant matching the jewelry color (gold or silver, you decide). You’re surprised, you didn’t imagine Johnny buying you something besides food. “What?! Johnny..” You laugh softly, pleased by the gift.

He smiles warmly, watching your reaction, satisfied. “Let me help you.” Johnny steps close to you and gently wraps the bracelet around your wrist, clicking the locks together. His hand slides down, holding your hand delicately as he admires your now-decorated wrist. “Did you like it?” He looks up at you, eyes sparkling with hope and something. “It’s beautiful, John. Thank you, I loved it.” You smile back, hugging your friend, wrapping your arms around his neck. He doesn’t hesitate, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close against him.

It feels so right like it was meant to be this way, in his arms. Feeling his warmth, his scent, his grip. Your heart swells and you sigh content before pulling away. “Let’s return to the party, I’ll blow out the candles soon enough.” You pat his back and lead the way to the living room again. Johnny mingles with the other guests, but his attention is still on you, the birthday princess. Your grandmother approaches you. “Are you ready, sweetheart?” She asks with a warm smile, her eyes disappearing due to her big cheeks. You nod “Yes, big mama.” you chuckle and go behind the table, the cake in front of you. They help you light the candles and turn off the lights.

Then, they start clapping their hands and singing the most famous song in the world. You start zoning out while they sing, thinking about the current moment. Woah, you’re turning nineteen and celebrating with your loved ones. Everything was perfect, everything was just how it was supposed to be. Once the song ends, you lean closer to the cake and think of a wish…

May every day be perfect, the way I deserve.

You blow the three candles, receiving a round of applause. Now is the hardest part: choose who will receive the first slice. You slowly cut one, your eyes switching face to face, mind racing. But, when holding the plastic plate with the slice, you chuckle, noticing how dumb you’re being. Why are you even asking yourself who should you give the slice to when there’s only one who deserves it?

“Well, the first slice goes to someone really… nice, really sweet.” You pause, thinking. “This someone is very important to me, very special. They-” You chuckle, shy “They taught me how to live, you know? How I deserve to be treated and how loved I am. I owe my whole life to them.” You finally look up to meet everyone’s eyes, they’re eager to see who is the lucky one. Your smile brightens as your eyes lock with Johnny’s and you beckon him closer. “Johnny, this is for you.”

He shyly laughs and walks to you, people around applauding. He sets the plate aside and hugs you tightly, swaying side to side in a cute little dance. “You deserve the whole cake, you know that?” You whisper in his ear. “You wouldn’t let me eat the whole thing though” He chuckles and you nod. You lean back to look into his eyes. “You’re quite right, I wouldn’t–” He interrupts you, pressing his lips against yours. After a few seconds, you close your eyes, pressing your lips against his, returning the kiss.

When the kiss ends, he shyly looks into your eyes, feeling everyone’s fixed on you two. He takes a deep breath and whispers. “I… I love you” He strokes your waist with his thumb. “I love you more, John” You don’t take too long to answer, the words leaving your mouth freely. “I love you most.” He smiles brightly and kisses your forehead.

After the party, Johnny stays for the night — nothing unusual. He sits with you on your bed, watching you open and try all of your birthday gifts. But the best gift is there, watching you with the most silly yet smitten smile you have ever seen, and you couldn’t be happier.

taglist: @drugs-and-daddyissues

-- If you want to be tagged, just dm me!

[bagopucks]

J. Hughes - And I, You

✄————————————

Jack Hughes x Reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 1k

Warning(s): Tooth rotting fluff!

Song referenced in the fic is “Butterflies” by Kacey Musgraves! Two fics in one night bc I feel bad leaving ya’ll without content for so long.

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My feet stepped one over the other, a turn here, a sway there. My loose skirt flowed with my movements. I reached for my wine glass, took a sip, set it back down.

There’s nothing better than the moments where one can romanticize life. Where everything is so perfect, you just have to laugh to yourself and shed a few happy tears.

A soft orange glow lit up the kitchen, where I was baking cookies. There wasn’t a single light on, but I had the window over the sink open. The scent of warm summer rain wafted through the kitchen along with roasting chocolate and vanilla. And cologne.

The song on my phone drifted into the background as I turned to peek at the boy in the doorway.

“Keep dancing.” His soft encouragement brought a smile to my lips. Those euphoric tears welling up in my eyes once again.

“C’mere, Angel.” I called softly, holding my hand out. Jack swiftly met me in the middle of the floor. I loved the way the orange glow lit up his blue eyes. Our two hands slid together while the other two held hips.

“I’m really happy right now.” I admitted, my heart full, and my emotions spilling over. We swayed back and forth before Jack spun me, pulling me back into his chest. His arms wrapped around my stomach and his chin came to rest on my shoulder. I rested my hands on top of his own.

“I’m glad you could come this summer.” Jack whispered before he pressed a kiss to my neck. It caused my stomach to do flips. I tapped his hands to indicate my movement. Jack lifted his head just as I turned in his arms, to face him once again.

“You’re all I wanted this summer.” I admitted, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. Jack waltzed me over to the counter before he lifted me up, quiet laughter falling from our lips as I got situated on the edge of the surface. The cool stone chilled my exposed thighs.

“You’re all I want for the rest of my life.” The middle Hughes brother moved his hands down to my thighs before he reached for my left hand. I smiled as our eyes trailed down to the ring on my finger. A dainty gold band holding a pear shaped diamond resided there. The symbol of a promise Jack made to me just days ago.

I looked back up at Jack, admiring the wonder in his eyes while I reached out with my right hand to adjust his long brown hair, pushing it back behind his ear.

“What kind of wedding do you want?” Jack and I have had this conversation a million times, but he loves to hear my fantasy. Like a good bedtime story.

“Silver and gold.” I whispered, like it was a juicy secret. “In a beautiful decorated barn.. during Christmas.” Jack rested his elbows on my legs and placed his chin onto his fist as he listened. I leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his nose.

“Can we have chocolate cake?”

“We can have any kind of cake you want, baby.” I reached out to carefully wrap my hands around his forearms.

“Go on.” Jack pleaded.

“I want holly. I want it spread around the tables, on all of the white tablecloths. And beautiful lit candles in engraved glasses.”

Jack and I had discussed it so many times, that one would think we didn’t even need a planning period for our wedding day.

“And I’m gonna ask Ellen and my mom to make a few dishes. Maybe some desserts.”

“My mom makes good sugar cookies.”

I smiled and sighed out a laugh. “I know, baby.”

“Keep going.”

I moved my hands from his forearms to gently nudge his elbows. Jack lifted his weight from my legs. He picked up his head and rested his hands on the edge of the counter.

“The best champagne, and a few wine options.“

“We’ll have to find a bar tender.” Jack chimed in. Always helpful when it came to this dream wedding he’d fallen in love with.

“Yes.” I agreed. “And our first dance?” I reminded him of the next step. We hadn’t picked a song yet.

“This one.” Jack spoke softly as he peeked around the room for my phone.

“Kacey Musgraves?” I giggled. I wasn’t opposed to the idea.

“I like it. I wanna dance with you to this song when we get married. Like we danced in here.” I always admired how soft spoken and emotional Jack could be given the right timing.

“You’ve got a deal, Angel.” I leaned forward, my hand reaching up to rest just beneath his chin, guiding his head forward into a loving and chaste kiss.

We pulled apart mere inches, eyes searching one another’s souls. Finding nothing but love in the purest form.

Sometimes I still marveled at the idea that this was the kid I grew up across the street from. The one who ran out into the road without looking both ways. The one who tried to fist fight his older brother over everything until he was seven.

The one I was going to spend the rest of my life with.

“Shit.” I whispered as tears welled up in my eyes. I leaned back to wipe them away.

“Are you okay?” Jack reached up to pull my hands from my face. He held onto them securely but also gently.

“I’m just- feeling a lot right now.” I sniffled.

“Good things?”

“Oh, Jack.” I cooed. “So many good things.”

I leaned forward and threw my arms over his shoulders. Jack lifted me off the counter, arms around my waist as my feet landed atop his own. Just tall enough to kiss him without having to lean upwards.

“I’m infatuated with you.” Jack whispered playfully, his eyes struggling to find a place to focus between my own eyes and my lips.

“And I, you.”

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[ollieolliewrld]

DMC AND HSR WRITER?????!?!????? i think im in heaven omg. dante and argenti with an s/o who bakes for them?!!??!!! pretty please??!??!! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

OH, this is adorable >.< I will let you know right now I will be making this request into full posts soon bc my heart is so happy with this idea!! <3

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Dante

♡He is the happiest man on planet Earth with this

♡As much as he prides himself on his body he cannot resist your creations

♡At first, he was a little weirded out as he is not used to people doing kind things for him 

♡But he sees that you do this out of love and each of your dishes is made special for him

♡This made him emotional when he realized that

♡Knowing that you love him so much that you take the time out of your day to prepare sweets for him brought him to tears

♡Dante starts calling you names like, “Sweets”, “Angel Cake”, and “Honey Buns”, partially as a joke partially because he thinks the look you give him when he calls you those names is adorable

♡He has tried to join you in the kitchen and he was actually pretty good 

♡Granted all he was making were chocolate chip cookies, he knows that baking is important to you so he does his best to respect your craft

♡Loves to come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist while you work

♡He won't be in your way but he adores to spend time with you while you are doing something you love

♡To date, there have been exactly 4 flour fights that ended with you cracking an egg on his head 

♡He cleans you up after and makes sure nothing important was ruined

♡Dante is the type of guy who will bring some of your baked goods into Devil May Cry and brag that these delicious treats were made by his loving and beautiful s/o

♡Literally will not stop, the entire day he is just singing your praise to everyone around him

Argenti

♡This man was so taken back when you first presented him with beautifully decorated cupcakes

♡Here you are the definition of beauty creating baked goods that are not only beautiful in appearance but also taste

♡Argenti is always so excited to try everything you make 

♡Your relationship is so cute because he likes to bring you gifts and you like to bake him things 

♡It is such a loving bond that you share everyone around you is jealous

♡He is not much of a baker but wants to learn the proper way to frost things

♡Argenti would like to be able to spend time with you and add to what you do so aiding you in decorating would be his thing

♡Whatever you make does not just get eaten it is savored 

♡He likes to take the time to fully immerse himself in what you’ve made picking out every taste note 

♡Very much the type of lover to get you both matching aprons that say something cliche like “kiss the chef”

♡This is mainly done so that every time you put it on he has no excuse to not walk over and immediately place a kiss on your lips

♡He feels very lucky to have found a s/o that has such a talent

♡The fact that you have such a cute hobby is one of his favorite things about you

♡He is also the type to now refuse to eat any baked good that was not made by you

♡Once he has tasted the best how could he have anything else?

♡Is convinced that your love and care are what make your baking so good

♡Argenti can also taste how you were feeling through your baking

♡If you ever made him a pie while you were sad he would know within the first bite and then be off on a mission to cure your sadness