#you guys really don't want to know what goes on in bakeries

[i-donthaveanygoodidea]

Je pense ça va se finir en série de vidéos où je fais des recettes bien française de mon enfance et des trucs sucrés que je pense Aziraphale aimerait parce que en vrai je suis sûr le boeuf bourguignon ou la blanquette de veau de ma grand-mère il serait fan et en plus je pourrais partager mes recettes préférées et apprendre au gens à faire de la confiture d'oranges amères parce que en vrai c'est trop facile

Et en plus j'ai mon CAP Boulangerie et legit mes pains aux raisins c'est les meilleurs que j'ai mangé de ma vie, j'ai jamais aimé ce truc et en vrai c'est juste parce que ceux en boulangerie ils sont dégueu et fait de façon industrielle

Les gars si vous avez jamais travaillé en boulangerie laissez moi vous dire c'est soit horrible et ça vous dégoûte de juste acheter du pain, soit ça vous fait voir des trucs juste trop bien et ça vous redonne foi en l'humanité

Bref tout ça pour dire que en vrai ça à l'air fun, je pourrais partager des recettes cool et assez facile et y'a rien de mieux sur cette terre que de partager ce qu'on aime

English translation in the tags so that you don't feel too left out <3

One day, when I have the energy to do so and a microphone of half decent quality, I'll make a video dressed in Aziraphale inspired clothes and I'll share the best crêpes recipe in the world

[z3rinn]

# #. GROCERY STORE !!

featuring : heartslaybul - octavinelle ! going grocery shopping is usually a mundane task, boring and usual. that is until the twst boys want to join you in your outing. you just hoped nothing would go wrong this time… for once… pt.2 !!

and can I just say- OMG TYSM FOR LIKING MY WORK??? LIKE AKSHHDJAJUW???? I LITERALLY HAVE NO WORDSS

# #. RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

Taking Riddle out grocery shopping is like taking a very well-behaved child out. He never strays away from you or the cart, and is oddly silent the entire time. However if you look closely you can see a small smile on his face.

He's never been to a grocery store before, due to his mom usually keeping him inside the house and getting them herself. So he can't help but be fascinated by the variety of things and contents of whatevers in the store. He definitely makes sure that no funny business goes on within the store though, he makes sure that everything he does is in order- it's kind of funny how stiff he is in a grocery store.

While out with Riddle, he will absolutely go to the mini bakery, inspecting the cakes, tarts, breads, and cookies. The aroma is enough to put a smile on his face. He probably picks up some ingredients for Trey too, and maybe for himself, if you'd like to help him in creating a tart that it?

10/10 he's so cute the entire trip and pays for you!! Consider it his gratitude for the strawberry tart you bought !

# #. TREY CLOVER

Trey probably needs to pick up some baking supplies while out with you, meaning that the two of you spend a lot of time in the baking aisle or in the mini bakery of the store. It gives him some inspiration when seeing all the different types of sweets and goodies around, perhaps he should bake some of them for you!!

Trey is always helpful, and it applies even more so at the grocery store. He helps store workers, random costumers, you. He tries the best he can, either by helping pick up grocery bags, or by carrying the slightly heavier stuff for you. Trey also walks around with the cart, going through aisle and aisle with you, never once complaining about being there for too long.

With him you don't really have to worry about anything either, he makes sure that you get everything on your checklist and that you don't buy unnecessary or unimportant items. It's kind of like going with a parental figure- or someone really calming.

10/10, man's bakes you a whole plethora of sweets- and going with him is one of the most calming trips ever.

# #. CATER DIAMOND

Cater makes Grocery shopping an experience. You know those pictures of people in carts? Or the ones where you're standing in an aisle doing something stupid? Yeah that's him, one hundred percent.

It's always so fun to go out with him though, no matter what kind if shenanigans you get into. He for sure buys a few spicy instant Ramen packs while out, actually he just buys a bunch of spicy stuff in general- not that you're complaining of course. Maybe he'll even buy some actual ingredients to try and recreate his favorite recipes with you!!

Cater tries to help out as best as he can too, by helping out with checkout or carrying certain things! He also has a nack at finding pretty- or the most appealing looking foods- due to his magicam, he knows how to get good angles and can find some of the best quality foods there is. The pictures he takes can make that one package of strawberries look like the most delectable thing ever.

8/10 he's a fun guy to go Grocery shopping with!! And you get to make Ramen with him once you get back home!

# #. ACE TRAPPOLA

As a contrast to Riddle- Ace is a big baby when going out Grocery shopping. He walks behind you, trying to annoy you in every possible way ever.

He purposely walks in front of the cart when you're about to move, has a grumpy face when being in the healthy section for too long, grabs a buttload of junk food- you don't mind but he'll share none of it with you. He does all of this with an annoying little smirk on his pretty boy face.

Although shopping with him has its downsides, he knows how to make it fun for you. He's the type to sometimes hijack and blast music into the store's speakers, dragging you along with him for a dance. He makes you sit in the carts basket, running around the store while pushing you. Does it make up for not sharing his snacks with you? Maybe. That cute smile on his face certainly does though !!

He's an annoying little shit but I love him for that. 6/10 just cause he's a stinky butt head <3 Oh and he does end up sharing his snacks in the end!

# #. DEUCE SPADE

Deuce is one of the best people to go shopping with. He trails behind you, only ever walking off when he needs to get something. He probably knows this grocery store like the back of his hand even though he's only been there like once.

Deuce knows the best deals to get as well, going grocery shopping with his mom definitely helped out a bunch. He knows what to do during a sale- running and squeezing through crowds of middle aged women to get that last carton of eggs. Think of miyamura from horimiya!!

He carries the bags back to the car, no matter how much or how heavy. Deuce also tries to split the bill with you, there's something so domestic about it, and he absolutely loves it. He always has a smile on his face whenever shopping, especially when it's with his favorite prefect!! Honestly Deuce's perfect date is probably going grocery shopping then riding off into the sunset on his blastcycle.

10/10 he's a very helpful and reliable man, its cute. He's cute. And with him you'll never forget your eggs.

# #. LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

I don't know what possessed Leona to want to go Grocery shopping with you and not just make you or Ruggie do it for him, but let's say he goes because he needs something.

He walks quietly next to you, looking out for what he needs while walking through the aisles. Unfortunately, after he gets whatever he needs he's a total asshole. He complains about being there for too long, and how he'd much rather be napping then in a store.

It's confusing because it was his car that you took here- he could easily just go sleep in it- or straight up leave if he wanted. Well I guess he was being nice enough to not just leave you in the dust. You wouldn't be surprised if he just randomly decided to lean on you whilst you walk, or he might knock stuff over and over for you to keep picking up. He's quite literally a cat.

4/10 he's another annoying shit- but its not so bad cause he's hot. Well at least he pays for you- right?

# #. RUGGIE BUCCHI

Ruggie is probably tagging along with you because he needs to get something for Leona. And he has to be one of the greatest shopping companions to have graced this world. He points out some of the best products that are also cheap, and knows how to get good deals and haggle with store owners.

Like Ace, he also makes the trip fun, well for him at least. Ruggie's idea of fun definitely contains snatching some wallets or free food while out. If you're at Costco he will take more samples than humanly possible. It's pretty funny- if you forget about the snatching wallets part.

Ruggie will also pay for you- using Leona's wallet!! He tells you over and over that Leona wouldn't even notice your purchase of groceries- no mater you end up getting. The hyena also knows how to get the good stuff for cheap, real cheap. It's honestly kind of a life saver to go shopping with him- he helps with everything.

8/10- he somehow can haggle a grocery store worker so you get everything for cheap- although you wished he wouldn't swipe wallets when with you--

# #. JACK HOWL

Jack is the Grocery man. He probably asked to join you just because he wanted to help out, no hidden motives or questions asked. He's so helpful it's honestly so sweet.

It's kind of funny to see a big beefy wolf man dragging around a grocery cart with a happy smile on his face. Honestly he just loves grocery shopping, its so him. He gets all the healthy stuff and protien shakes that'll help out with both of your bodies, he makes sure to leave room for some junk food in the cart though. Jack always helps out with the heavy stuff too, he carries the water cartons, soda, the eight cat trees you got just for Grim- It's like a mini workout for him!!

I can imagine him rushing when at self checkout, he's scanning those tomatoes like it's an Olympic sport. Oh- and he always gets some cactus seeds just in case !!

9/10 helpful wolf man for the win !!

# #. AZUL ASHENGROTTO

It's honestly so confusing why Azul would want to go Grocery shopping with you, did he want to start a farmers market or something?? You doubted he had anything to gain from it either. Like- who goes Grocery Shopping for a scheme??? Azul.

Other than thinking he's gonna do something behind your back while walking around the store, he's a pleasant companion! He basically just sticks to himself the whole time, pointing out things he finds interesting, or things he'd never seen before while in the sea. He's very fascinated by the variety of human items and stuff in just one store. Azul does try to be helpful sometimes, like picking out things that would benefit you both for the right price. Something tells you that if he ran his own grocery store everything in it would be way too overpriced--

He has to be scheming though, you can see him mumbling to himself while looking at the pricetags for certain items, and that gleam in his glasses isn't helping clear him of that suspicion one bit.

6/10 he's honestly not that bad- but you just know for a fact he's plotting something behind your back.

# #. JADE LEECH

Jade joins you on your endeavors to try and learn more about the surface. Of course, they have grocery stores down in the sea, but the things they carry are far more different from the things up here. He finds this a learning experience, like many other things.

Jade is they type to like a flea market the most, or an outdoor one at that. Being outside while shopping with the perfect is probably one of his favorite pastimes. He- like Azul- is pretty silent the entire time. He just enjoys being out in nature while exploring the vast marketplace!! If you're out at a flea market he might also try and haggle with the prices, well he wouldn't try- they'd just give it to him for cheaper because of his face.

He probably buys the two of you a bunch of mushroom including foods, and he probably buys some mushrooms just for himself. Perhaps they two of you can make some foods including them later, yes? That would certainly be a fun experience!

8/10 a very relaxing experience- a lot different from the others, but it's not like your complaining!

# #. FLOYD LEECH

Floyd either tries to squeeze into the baby seats of a shopping cart or stands on the side of it, towering over like the giant he is, letting you drag him around with a silly little smile on his face.

He puts whatever he wants into the cart, showing off things that you definitely don't need. Matching eel phone charms? He's making you buy it. A gummy candy in the shape of shrimp? Well duh he needs that!!

When not clinging onto the cart he's running around the store like a madman. It's quite scary if you think about it- a 6'1 eel man running around a grocery store, bumping into people without saying sorry. He makes it his mission to scare you. Popping up out of nowhere and shoving stuff into your face? Sounds fun!! Sneaking his head into the aisles you're in and watching you from afar like a creep? That's his favorite pastime!!

5/10 its fun to go out with Floyd- but also a hassle. Be forewarned before you agree to go out with him…

.

Honestly- why did you even say yes to shopping with them in the first place??

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Hi, I have a request if you don't mind...

Any of the batboys [Or poly with all of them ;)] with an ultra-feminine Reader, with a filthy *wink* *wink* mouth.

She is very into dresses, makeup, dressing up and everything that is considered 'girly', and their mate just thinks she will be all soft and innocent too, how most guys think "Just how females are supposed to be" (Obv, not the bat boys cause they love their women all loud and powerful)

But she literally has the wildest, dirtiest, most unhinged thoughts and just says them without a second thought

and the first time it happens, during IC dinner, she says a string of swears or just says the most sexual thing to her mate and everyone in the IC eyes them and Nesta/Elain (who was a little cold to her for whatever reason) just goes "Ok I was wrong, I love this bitch"

Dirty mouth.

Azriel x f!Reader

Warnings; SWEARING :') , suggestive

Masterlist.

Hello I really hope this is what you had in mind! I had so much fun writing this! If you don't like it you can always ask me to rewrite it I won't get offended. Hope you enjoy it! <3

When you first met Azriel, and the bond snapped you felt like the luckiest female in the world. The shadowsinger was the best mate someone could wish for, he treated you like a queen and even though it had only been six months since you accepted the bond, you felt like you knew everything about him.

You couldn’t say the same for him though since you decided to keep your bolder personality hidden not wanting to scare him away. Azriel only saw a female who cared about clothes and shopping with her friends, he told you how sweet and delicate you are multiple times and always tried to be soft in bed. At first you enjoyed all the protectiveness and affection but as the months passed you decided to stop overthinking before you spoke and let Azriel see who you really are.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“You should try these cookies, I got them from the new bakery” Feyre exclaimed and placed a big box on the dining table.

You were in the dining room at the house of wind with the inner circle, Azriel was sitting next to you with one protective wing wrapped around you.

Everyone took a cookie, including your mate who took a bite and let a soft moan.

“What was that?” Cassian chuckled.

“Oh he really likes it, that's the noise he makes when I suck his cock” you giggled.

Azriel choked on the cookie, Rhysand and Cassian gaped at you and the girls burst into laughter. You quirked a brow at Nesta who always gave you a hard time and she winked.

“What did you say?” Azriel asked when he stopped choking.

“That’s how you moan when I suck your cock just before you finish in my thro…” he covered your mouth with his palm and stared at you wide-eyed.

Nesta went hysteric and shouted, “okay I love you”.

That was the first time Azriel saw your true self and as the days passed and you made more comments like that and started cursing too his whole attitude changed and he finally started treating you like he wasn’t afraid of breaking you.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You were in a meeting with the inner circle and Eris to find a way to kill Beron, the Autumn heir though kept making offensive comments to your mate and you could feel your patience running thin.

“How does it feel to be touched by those disgusting hands?” Eris asked you and silence filled the room.

“Most of the times I squirt” you replied with a smirk. Eris frowned while Azriel’s breath hitched.

“What happened lordling? Cat got your tongue, or you just can’t process the fact that the shadowsinger fucks better than you?” you teased him and got up.

You grabbed the Truth-Teller from your mate and approached Eris.

“Do you know how many times he has fucked me with this?” you asked and touched the tip of the dagger on his cheek. Rhys tensed but Cassian grabbed his shoulder with a proud look.

Azriel’s face flushed, and he gaped at the scene in front of him.

“Do you want to have the honor to feel this inside you too?” you asked, and he shook his head, his face paled.

“Then I suggest shutting your fucking mouth before I sew it.” You growled and walked back to your mate.

The meeting finished after a while and Azriel cupped your jaw staring deep in your eyes

“You never fail to amaze me” he mumbled and kissed you “but to be honest you are scaring me a bit” he continued and smiled.

“And you haven’t seen all of me yet” you replied and pecked his nose before exiting the office, leaving a very worried shadowsinger inside.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The next time it happened you were having a game night with your friends, you and Azriel were winning but Cassian and Nesta were close behind only two points away.

“You have 7 red” Nesta said.

“Siphons” Cassian exclaimed.

“Oh and Azriel’s siphons are..”

“Blue”

“Time!” Feyre said.

“It’s a tie” Rhysand announced.

“Oh come on those were so easy like asking him what his name is” you protested and Azriel chuckled.

“No I’m just better than you” Cassian teased you.

“Oh fuck off brute” you scoffed, Azriel spat his wine and stared at you.

“Seriously you have to warn me before you do that.” He mumbled and grabbed a napkin.

“Does it hurt to share the victory you little bitch?” Cassian smirked.

“Does it hurt to know that your mate fakes it every night?” Cassian turned to Nesta who was laughing uncontrollably.

“You’re a cocksucker” He shouted and winked to show that he was just messing with you.

“And a good one, ask Azriel” your mate shook his head and glanced at Feyre who was covering Nyx' ears.

After a small fist fight with Cassian, you both burst into laughter and hugged.

“You act like babies” Rhysand spoke. “Shut up” you and Cassian said simultaneously making the high lord lean his head back with a desperate look on his face.

“Okay I think you had enough wine for tonight my little cocksucker” Azriel teased and grabbed your shoulders “Let’s get you in bed”.

“I will show you how good I am” you winked and let him guide you into your shared bedroom ignoring Cassian’s gags.

After a while Azriel got used to your dirty mouth and the way you threatened whoever disrespected him and actually enjoyed it. He felt good having someone to protect him for a change and fight his battles. A few months later he noticed that he started cursing more and was horrified when he realized that he was acting like you, later he started making vulgar comments too and everyone groaned “Now we have two of them”. You had never felt prouder for your mate.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

A flock of elephants

Written for the November warm-up round of the @steddieholidaydrabbles

Prompt: Bakery AU

Rated: T

CW: some sexual tension and innuendo

Tags: Baker Steve, Rockstar Eddie

Notes: Can be read as a continuation of this microfic

“You don't understand how huge a deal this is, Steve,” Dustin says. He’s wiggling in the passenger seat, trying to take in every bit of their surroundings as they pull up to the concert hall. 

Steve huffs and squints at the signs. There's security and fans and staff everywhere and he can feel a headache coming up. 

"A guy asked me to bake a cake, so what? It's literally what I do for a living, nothing-" 

"A guy asked you to-" Dustin sputters. "Excuse me, what did you say? Eddie Munson commissioned you to bake a replica of his world famous Warlock, do you have any- Do you even know who Eddie Munson is?" 

"Of course I know," Steve grouses. "I don't live under a rock." 

"Oh yeah?" Dustin levels him with an unimpressed look. "Name one of his songs." 

"Please," Steve rolls his eyes. "You're blasting that shit on repeat, it's practically seared into my brain. Especially the one about the elephants." 

Dustin stares at him. Steve resists the urge to pinch his nose.

"You know the one! What was it? Flock of Elephants?" 

Dustin crumples into the car seat and slaps both palms to his forehead. "It's A Court of Sycophants, Steve! Oh my God!"

"Synchro-what?" Steve ignores the way his neck prickles and takes a sharp right. "You just made that up. Now help me look for the delivery entrance or we won't have ourselves a deal at all." 

*

Once they find the entrance, it turns out he forgot the ID badge that the label sent, because of fucking course he did. He spends about half an hour trying to convince the grumpy security guard to let them in while Dustin has a complete meltdown. Just as he's ready to give up, they're rescued by the appearance of a tiny blonde in a pink cardigan who cheerfully introduces herself as Eddie’s manager. 

"Sorry about Hop," she says for what must be the fourth time, while Steve sets up the guitar-shaped cake at the center of the buffet and Dustin inspects the backstage lounge with awestruck eyes. "He takes his job very seriously." 

"Yeah, I noticed," Steve mutters. She seems nice enough, but he really doesn’t wanna engage in smalltalk right now. The bustle of the stage hands and the hot air of the venue are making him squeamish. All he wants to do is get this over with and go home.

Unfortunately fate must hate him, because that is the exact moment that a familiar voice says, "Hey, Chris. No matter what Hop tells you, I didn't order hookers to the venue. I dunno where he got the-" 

Dustin starts squealing. 

"Oh my God, you're Eddie Munson!"

Eddie squints at him like a confused cat. 

"Last time I checked, yeah. And you are?" 

"Dustin," says Dustin, like that explains everything. "I'm with Steve." 

Eddie’s eyes flit over and his face breaks into a delighted, dimpled smile. 

"Baker boy, hi!" 

Steve's mouth goes dry. 

He doesn’t know why, but all of the easy confidence of their last meeting is suddenly gone. 

Maybe it's because they were in the bakery, on his own turf, and now they're on Eddie’s, where the lights and the noise and the hum of the crowd in the auditorium are grating on his nerves. 

Maybe it's because last time, Eddie looked like just some guy in his ripped jeans and ratty hoody, unwashed hair piled in a chaotic bun, and now …

… now he's in a pair of leather pants that are so tight they may as well be spray-painted on and what looks like a fucking harness, hair cascading around his face and shoulders in a halo of messy curls and is that eyeliner? 

"Woah," Eddie breathes, eyes growing large, and yup, eyeliner. Definitely eyeliner, Jesus fucking Christ. With two long strides of those impossibly long legs, he's beside Steve and ogling the cake with an awestruck face. "This is fucking incredible, dude, it looks just like the real thing. You did all that from the photos?" 

By some miracle, Steve manages to channel the incoming blush into a sly pop of his hips and a smug eyebrow quirk. 

"Told you I was the best." 

Eddie is looking at him like he didn't bake a cake but hung the moon, which … in combination with the eyeliner and the leather and the harness of it all? Steve squirms in his jeans.

"Okay, erm … if that's all, I'll send over the bill by-" 

"Wait, what? You're not staying for the show?" Eddie swivels to Chrissy, all righteous indignation. "Why are they not staying for the show?" 

Chrissy shrugs, at the same time that Steve says, "That's really not necessa-" 

"We'd love to stay!" 

Dustin shoves himself between them, elbowing him in the kidneys. While Steve is still coughing, Eddie turns to Chrissy. 

"Show the young man to the backstage area, Chris?" 

Dustin looks like he's about to die of happiness, so Steve resigns himself to his fate. 

"Will you play the one about the psychopaths?" he asks as they trail after him. "It's his favorite." 

"Psycho-" Eddie’s brow wrinkles.

"Sycophants, Steve!" Dustin hollers from ahead. "Jesus!" 

"Anyways," Steve says over Eddie’s rumbling laughter. "You really didn't have to-" 

"I know I didn't." Eddie accepts his guitar - the real one - from a stage hand and slings it over his shoulder. "But I saw what you're best at, so I figured I'd return the favor." 

"Careful there," Steve huffs. "All you've done is ogle my cake. You may wanna try it first." 

"Oh, I'm planning to …" Eddie's smile is sharp as he leans in, close to his ear. "Preferably with less people around, though." 

And then he's gone, stepping out on the stage, making his guitar wail. 

Steve can't quite tell if the roar in his ears is the crowd or the sound of his own blood.

[kimberly-spirits13]

How Bruce Wayne Is On Your Period

This is really just meant to make me feel better tbh- lol kill me

He won't tell you, but he knows that it's starting 

like come on- the mood swings are terrible, you get more violent on patrol (you put Joker in the hospital for a few days), you're quicker to be snide towards shady business partners, you cried when you dropped a cracker and then went right back to normal, like seriously 

When you start to get bad PMS symptoms, you don't do patrol for the week

It's hard to control feelings, thoughts, and painful cramps while fighting crime

You're basically on probation from patrol

You and Alfred make a lot of food (or Alfred makes it happily and you devour it)

Bruce tries not to stay away during patrol for too long since you start to worry about him and he really, really worries about you when you're not feeling well

He makes sure to bring home lots and lots and lots of chocolate and meds if that's what you need

Goes to your favorite bakery and gets a massive amount of whatever you want 

Makes sure that you get plenty of water

like all the water because it helps so much 

Is totally fine with you raiding his closet for any sweatpants and massive t shirts

doesn't care if there's blood anywhere or if you ruin a set of sheets

he's a billionaire, it's not a loss 

he makes sure you aren't uncomfortable or if you need space, that you have it but you know that he's there when you need 

Sometimes being around guys when you're on your period is gross and idk why it's just like ugh get away from me you trash bag 

speaking of trash bags, if anything grosses you out or starts to make you feel icky (even if it usually doesn't), he totally removes it from your presence 

for me, it's cheese and weird or strong smelling things 

or anything that looks slimy or too rough *bleh*

If you're ever feeling bloated or just really really gross, Bruce is the hype man

"no gorgeous, you're stunning, exquisite, perfect, amazing, I'm in the presence of an angel babe." he'll spin you around and press kisses all over you 

"No, don't say that about yourself, you're so pretty, you're not gross."

I mean he's like this all the time, but he'd definitely play way way into it if you're feeling down

If you're married and wearing a wedding ring, he gets the ring custom made to be adjustable incase you fingers swell 

I can see you expressing something nasty about yourself like that you hate a scar or you feel like you're stupid or something and he'll start crying when you start crying 

like don't say that dude it's not nice to yourself 

You feel like a sweaty hog because your body is pushing out blood and tissue 

you're going into mini labour, leave yourself alone

When you can't sleep, he pulls you very tightly into him and plays with your hair 

braids it into a hundred tiny braids or brushes it 

anything that relaxes you

you probably have a treasure trove of comfort movies and tv shows and if you can't sleep or just want to watch something, he'll happily stay up with blankets wrapped around the two of you and watch whatever

rubs your back and makes sure that you're taking pain medicine every few hours to stay in your system 

sometimes when he's working in the cave and you're lonely but not feeling good, you'll wrap yourself in a large blanket and sit on his lap, head against his chest while he works

He thinks you're like a cat and finds it adorable 

You basically turn into a cat for a week and maybe some change and he finds it very very funny

makes sure that there are no galas or any meetings that you have to deal with

plans events and meetings around your periods to make sure that when you're on it, you don't have to deal with high society because they make anyone's blood boil (no pun intended)

When you get mad or start crying, he doesn't take it personally at all and just lets you get it out

sometimes laying in the fetal position for a few hours and falling asleep is the best thing that can happen for periods and he will happily cuddle you the entire time, even if it's not the optimal position for cuddling 

he tries to stay as neutral as possible on subjects when you're on your period so that you don't kill someone because he seemed equally as unhappy 

trust me, period mood swings are incapacitating, it's not a snarky thing, it's just so so sosososoososososoooooooo bad

please don't talk to me when I'm in my mood swing phase, I'll accidentally insult you and then cry about it later or decide never to talk to you again 

Local villains will not pull insane shenanigans while you're on you're period because they're terrified 

Terrified. 

if batman has to call in the calvary, its the calvary call out of hell

You're busting skulls and taking names the entire time 

Bruce is scared, the villain is scared, everyone is terrified of this blood thirsty being that wants everyone to be in as much pain as they are

Bruce knows that the world is insufferable and being super hormonal and feeling disgusting and being in pain doesn't help ignoring that fact, or even just living with it

He just wants you to feel better 

Bruce gets sad when you don't feel well 😂

[fairyysoup]

insatiable

matters of taste part two (repost)

pairing(s): steve harrington x fem!reader x eddie munson

summary: Stuck between Steve and Eddie, you start to learn the things they have in common, and a few of the things they don't.

content warnings: explicit (18+ MINORS DNI) smut, polyamorous relationship, semi-public sex, car sex, cunnilingus, nipple play, spit kink, forced orgasms, workplace sex, unprotected sex, creampie, exhibitionism, daddy kink, size kink, praise, smoking, marijuana, discussions and appreciation of scars, canon-typical violence toward the end, like one verbatim line from the show as a wink wink nudge nudge, not edited (we die like the demobat)

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

“I feel kinda bad,” you admit glumly, blinking at Eddie through the fog in the back of his van. “Steve’s not here.”

Eddie shrugs a shoulder, his eyes sparkling at you even though they’ve gone just a little bit watery and bloodshot. You both stink like weed, the cramped quarters filling up with the smoke from the joint you pass between you. The speakers from the radio in the dash are playing the local rock station, maybe a bit too loud, but Eddie’s slightly gravelly voice still goes into your ears and plants itself right between your legs. “Yeah. Why d’you feel bad about it?”

“Well… aren’t we sort of going behind his back?”

Eddie snorts, shaking his head slowly. “Only if we don’t tell him. And trust me, I plan on telling him. Harrington and I are a lot closer than you might think, sugarplum.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” Your head fills with the image of him biting Steve’s ear, tugging his hair- Steve’s hand fisted in Eddie’s shirt while you go down on him. “Are you guys together?”

“Ah… sort of. We haven’t exactly had the ‘what are we’ talk, but we fool around.” Eddie offers you the burning joint in his hand, and winks as you take it. “Doesn’t mean we don’t want to include you, though. Treat you nice, take you out on dates. The both of us.”

“Is that what this is?” You splutter a kind of half-cough, half giggle, the smoke starting to make your reflexes a little fuzzy. “R’we on a date right now?”

“If you wanna be.”

You should have known that his oddly sweet offer to pick you up and drive you to work today wasn’t exactly coming from a place of wholesome intentions. For starters, he did pose the offer while letting you recover from the first time he fucked you, while Steve was busy with a customer out on the bakery floor. His hand had been stroking a little too close to your aching cunt and your head was a little too full of endorphins for you to think it through before you said okay. 

So, when he picked you up about two hours early, you were a little shocked, to say the least. You were still wearing your pajamas- an ugly pair of sweats, and a cami that absolutely did not cover everything it needed to for you to be technically decent. Your hair a complete mess, a half eaten sandwich in hand as you answered the door. 

Eddie’s eyes did a complete once-over of your body, and then laser-focused in on your pebbled nipples raised through the fabric of your cami, before he cracked a smug smile. “Get all dressed up just for me?” 

You’d asked Eddie to wait for you to put on that itchy fucking uniform dress and apron, at least, but he just waved his hand like it was beyond pointless. “Just grab it and get dressed in the car. I won’t peek at you. Scouts honor.”

Well, now the uniform dress is wadded up in a plastic shopping bag beside you, and you’re parked outside of the Radio Shack across the street and down a ways from Mimi’s Bakery. And he’s not looking at you like any fucking boy scout. 

“Okay,” you say quietly, feeling really hot and sort of uncomfortably confined in your tight cami. He’s been staring at your tits. Not trying to hide that he is in the slightest, either. And your eyes have been lingering on his tattoos. “This can be a date.”

“Good to know,” he hums, checking his watch. “But don’t you need to be getting into that little dress pretty soon?”

“You just want to look at my tits,” you grumble as you shove the joint back into his hand. 

“I do. But I won’t, if you don’t want me to.”

You gnaw on your lip. Your eyes fall to his forearm again, the cluster of bats so dark on his skin. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Eddie laughs, genuinely, his chest heaving. “Tit for tat, huh? All right, sweetheart. You asked for it.”

His hands move to the hem of his shirt. He’s not wearing his uniform either, actually- instead he’s in a weather beaten metallica shirt and dark jeans. You don’t know if he just generally waits until the last second to change into his uniform, or if he was planning on not having any clothes on by the end of this anyways. Maybe a bit of both, but you’re hesitant to ask. 

He rips his shirt over his head, wads it into a ball and throws it somewhere in the vicinity of the front seat. You’re not looking at where it lands, though. You’re looking at his scars. 

Eddie’s covered in them. Large red patches on his skin that look… sort of like they could be burn scars, but more like he got dragged under an eighteen wheeler on a paved highway and lived to tell the tale. You stare, because you have genuinely no idea what to do or say. 

“Has anyone told you, you have a really good poker face?”

You huff a laugh and rip your eyes away, although you don’t really want to. The scars don’t take away from the look of him, or from the tattoos- of which there are a lot. They even help to increase the air of danger and mystery about him that you find so alluring, and you’re more entranced by the combination of the two than anything. Your face burns furiously. “Am I that obvious?”

He grunts, but it doesn’t come off as dismissive as he usually makes it. It sounds almost shy. “You’re no actress, sweetheart. But it’s okay. I know it’s bad.”

“It’s… I mean, maybe it’s alarming. Didn’t expect it,” you tell him honestly, and you sort of reach forward to touch his chest, only stopping your hand at the last second. “But it’s not bad, babe.”

Eddie makes a soft noise in the back of his throat, like he doesn’t entirely believe you, but he reaches up and grabs your hand to pull it against his chest. His skin is hot under your touch. “Don’t bullshit me- I don’t think I could handle it if you were.”

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, Eddie,” you whisper to him, moving to straddle his lap while your hand presses into his skin. “Why would I lie about that?”

“Well,” he starts, his eyes turning up toward the roof of the van, “you did say you thought my tattoos were ‘fucking dumb.’”

“That’s… okay, yeah. Fair enough.” Your fingers dig into his chest, dragging along the outline of a spider. He’s riddled with them- zombie heads and spiders and a puppet on a string. You’re absorbed in a fantasy of tracing every one of them with your tongue instead of your fingers. Sucking in a sharp breath through your nose, you take them in slowly and try to content yourself with just touching them instead of tasting them. “I didn’t really think they were dumb, though. They’re not. They’re really, really hot. I think about them all the time, I was just too chicken shit to admit it.” 

Eddie’s wide eyes bore into yours. “Hm. So I fuck you once and you change your tune?”

“Yeah. That’s usually the best way to get me to fess up, anyways. I mean, I also didn’t want to admit that I have a big ol’ crush on you, but… here we are.” Your face heats up, and your eyes fall to his hand on yours so that you can avoid his stare. “And these are really fucking hot. Believe me.” You drag your hand down his chest, and his follows. Your touch lingers over a bit of scar tissue on his lower ribs. His breath hitches when you ghost your fingers across it. 

“Between you and me,” he murmurs quietly, his voice just a little bit shaky as you lace your fingers between his, “you’re the only one besides Harrington who’s seen them.”

Your eyes snap up to his. You open your mouth to say something heartfelt, to thank him or tell him how much it means that he would trust you with something he’s obviously a bit shy about- as shy as Eddie Munson can be. But all that comes out is, “Do they hurt?”

“Not anymore.”

“How did… how…” You struggle to ask him what happened to scar him this much. Somehow, it seems so invasive. “You don’t have to tell me if it’s not-”

“I was attacked by a swarm of bats,” Eddie says flatly. “Fuckers almost ate me alive.”

You can’t tell if he’s joking or not. His tone is serious, but his nose crinkles just a bit and his lips curl up just at the edges, and his eyes glint in a way that says, ‘I know something you don’t.’ So you bite your lip and scrape your nails lightly along his skin. “Between you and your bats, and Steve and his KGB agents, I’m starting to think you guys are just having fun tripping me up.”

He grins. “Oh, we are. How else are we supposed to keep you coming back for more?”

“Dunno. You have some really good weed.”

“Oof. Ouch. You’re only here for the drugs, babe?” He clicks his tongue and puffs the joint before handing it to you. “Should’a known. Pretty things like you are always so hard to get.”

You smirk, tucking the joint between your lips. One last puff and it’ll be too small to be useful anymore. “Not so hard. I think you got me pretty good last night.”

Eddie hums, and his hand pets up the curve of your arm. “Yeah, I did. I could still feel you squeezing me while I was trying to get to sleep.” 

“Christ, Eddie,” you breathe. Your fingers slip down low enough to skim over the trail of hair below his navel that disappears beneath his belt. “I’m still feeling you. You fucked me hard.”

“Mm. I know.”

You feel fucking insatiable. Maybe it’s the weed, or maybe it’s the way you can’t be in the same room with him, let alone in his lap, without wanting him to just… take advantage. Arousal tickles under your skin and between your legs like an ever-present demon. 

He plucks the little stub of a joint out of your fingers and tosses it into an ashtray by the console. “I showed you mine.”

You don’t really know what to say. You can’t come up with anything, so you just… lift your arms. Straight up in the air. Staring at him, saying nothing.

Eddie looks up at you with an unreadable expression, and his eyes dip to your lips. Just for a moment, long enough for you to think that he might lean in to finally kiss you, but then as soon as the thought is there, the moment is gone and he tugs the hem of your camisole up over your head. 

All that you can think is that Eddie’s really good with his hands. Of course he is- you’d know better than anyone, after what he did last night, but somehow it still gets the better of you when he slides his palms down your vertical arms after pulling your camisole off of them, and letting his thumbs press along the curve of your cleavage to tease over your nipples. His fingertips dig into the sides of your breasts, squeezing them almost reverently. 

“Jesus.” Eddie swallows audibly over the sound of the car radio, shaking his head slowly. His eyes droop as he pets your skin and leans forward to kiss just over the sensitive peak of your breast. “You shouldn’t have hid these from me, sweetheart. Pretty baby, with her pretty little nipples teasing me all morning.��

You hum, feeling a little lightheaded at him toying with you like this. His tongue juts out to wet his lips, and you feel so exposed, trembling on top of him. His eyes are just so big and black, shining in the broad afternoon light coming in from the window behind you. 

You’re in a fucking car. Where anyone passing by could see you, parked just down the sidewalk from your job, where you have to be in… thirty minutes? Twenty? You don’t even fucking know anymore. You think you can probably deal with Mimi Callaghan’s wrath if Eddie just keeps touching you like this-

Your breath hiccups in your chest when he lets his tongue flick gently over your nipple. You feel a wreck with just the slightest touch of his hot mouth to your skin, and you’re overcome with the need to kiss him again. To just allow yourself to taste him for hours. 

He switches over, going for the other one with pursed lips and enough suction to make your toes curl in your shoes. “Question for you,” he says, much too chipper and unaffected when he pulls away almost immediately. He leaves your nipples wet and cold in the atmosphere of the van, achingly hard for him as he drags the rough pads of his thumbs over them. 

You whine petulantly at him, your nails ripping at the wall of the car behind his head. You know Eddie hears it with how he mockingly pouts his lower lip at you, tilting his head just slightly as he draws circles around the sensitive buds. “What’s the quickest you’ve ever made yourself come?”

The question takes you aback. “What?”

“On your own. No assistance,” Eddie clarifies, as if that makes the inquiry any less odd. “Start to finish. Approximate time.”

“Um. I…” You suck a breath through your teeth when he pinches one of your nipples gently, and you blurt, “Six minutes and twenty-five seconds.”

Eddie blinks, pausing the movement of his fingers. You squirm, pushing your chest into his touch, and he unconsciously resumes. “That is… so weirdly specific. How do you know that?”

“Uh.” You press your lips together tightly and hear your heartbeat in your ears. Your face feels hot for all the wrong reasons, and he’s just squinting at you like he’s trying to read your mind. “It’s uhhh… because that’s how long it takes to get halfway through the guitar solo in Stairway to Heaven?”

His face remains blank for half a second. Then, slowly, a smile stretches across his face until he’s grinning from ear to ear. “You got off to Stairway?”

You make a weak noise in the back of your throat. “You haven’t?”

“I didn’t say that.” Eddie leans forward and presses a soft kiss between your breasts, just over your heart. His hands keep up their careful flexing, his thumbs rolling gently around your nipples until you lurch your hips forward against his for some kind of relief. He smirks. “I do think it’s cute that you knew the timestamp, though. What did you do? Go through it afterwards while looking at the clock? Count the seconds?”

“It was a stopwatch,” you snarl at him. 

Eddie makes a silent ‘O’ with his mouth, winking at you as he does. “Pardon me. A stopwatch.” He sighs dramatically and releases his hold on your breasts. Your skin feels oddly chilly without the soothing warmth of his hands there, but you swallow thickly as you watch him fiddle with the electronic watch on his wrist. Under the din of the car radio, he mutters to you, “Well, I’m no Page, but I like to think I’m a pretty good guitarist. Let’s see if I can’t break his record, hm?”

“What- Eddie!” A gasp leaves your mouth as his hand wiggles under the elastic waistband of your sweats. 

“No panties today? Naughty girl,” He tuts, letting his fingers roam through your curls and trace over the wet seam of your pussy, just barely a graze but it’s enough to set you on fire. 

“You destroyed one pair already,” you point out, biting your lip as his fingers gently drag through your folds, parting them teasingly. You don’t have the heart to tell him you do have a pair in the bag with your uniform. “Didn’t feel like losing another.”

Eddie hums in acknowledgement, but he doesn’t sound too terribly interested in your reasoning. “Six minutes and twenty-five seconds, sweetheart. Better be quick, or you’re going into work feeling really needy.” The tip of his finger dips just between your folds and finds the bead of your clit, and your heart drops into your stomach. He leans forward to whisper into your ear conspiratorially, “And I’m not working today.”

The sound that leaves you is maybe less than dignified. “You’d really do that to Steve?”

“Oh, you know that I would,” Eddie murmurs darkly. His fingers curl forward, and he buries them to the knuckle in your cunt, his palm rocking against your clit with it. “And I know he’d take really good care of you, too. But I might feel a little jealous if he gets to feel you come and I don’t.”

You feel like you’ve dug your own grave, and now you have to lie in it. Eddie’s fingers are deadly quick and more precise than you could have imagined. Stroking in down to the third knuckle and then hollowing back out to trace small circles around your clit. Teasing his two fingertips just into your entrance before pulling out to tug on your clit again.  

“So wet for me already,” Eddie coos sweetly, swirling his fingers and spreading the slick around to coat your puffy outer lips. Like he’s just having fun fucking with you, and you’re eating it up all the same. “Yeah… sweet baby. Must be doing something right if you’re this soaked.”

Your fingers ache with the grip you have on the wall. The van isn’t very decked out- you’d almost chance to say it looks like he was gutting it out for a remodeling and then stopped halfway through at some point. With nowhere to comfortably put your hands, you’re holding onto a metal support beam with one, the nails of your other hand scratching into the ridge of a windowsill just above his head. 

“Eddie, please,” you whisper, your voice breathier already than you want it to be. Your hips rock against his hand, whimpering when he pushes his middle and ring into you again. He curls them forward so slowly that you feel pulled closer toward his bare chest. “Please, I’m- shit, I want you to fuck me. Right now.”

But Eddie’s not listening. Or maybe he is, but he doesn’t make it known to you- he’s too busy humming along to the fucking song playing on the radio. An anguished cry leaves you when his fingers flex unexpectedly, and it takes you a moment to recognize that he’s following the guitar riff of the song. Scissoring his fingers inside your cunt to mimic the chords, and brushing up against your g-spot as he does.

You recognize the song. It’s on one of your best friend’s mixtapes- you listened to it some months ago in the car on the way to the drive-in. It’s not a difficult tune to follow, or particularly fast, but it’s incongruous and switches up at the oddest moments. So, just when you think there’s a rhythm to his fingers, they throw you for a loop. Your face screws up, because you can’t fucking remember the name of the song while he’s acting like you’re the neck of his goddamn guitar.

Then Eddie stops humming, and starts singing. And if you weren’t already overwhelmed with everything that’s happening, the sound of his rough voice quietly following the tune would put you on fucking cloud nine. “I’m a wild child, come and love me, I want you…”

You gasp for air, and your hand plants itself on the back of his head, fingers digging into the roots of his fluffy hair and tugging excitedly. Fucking- “W.A.S.P. Wild Child. That’s it.”

Eddie snickers, tilting head as he looks up at you with an endearing smile. His free hand lifts from your hip to grip your chin. “Were you trying to place it?”

You give him a high-pitched whimper in lieu of an answer, nodding your head furiously with your eyes screwed shut. You hear him laugh, and can only imagine the cheeky grin on his face. 

“You’re so fuckin’ cute.” Eddie squeezes your cheeks, pulling on your jaw slightly. “Open.”

You let your jaw slacken, mouth wide open for him so that he can spit into it. Moaning loudly into his face, you swallow and you realize that you… really liked that. Enough that it might give you a complex if you think about it for too long. 

You can feel how wet his skin is, because of you- because of him. The soft, slick glide of his thumb against your clit, the two deep inside you sliding in and out without resistance. Your hips grind forward onto his thrusting fingers, and you come onto his hand, making that wetness even worse. A string of moans leave your mouth, unrestrained and just barely louder than the music. 

Eddie’s nose bumps yours, and then he finally kisses you. For the first time all fucking morning, after two hours of screwing around in the back of his van, he finally kisses you while you’re riding out an orgasm on his fingers. You could smack him. But instead, you just open your mouth and let him take what you’ve wanted to give him since he knocked on your door. 

“You sound so fucking sexy when you do that,” he murmurs between kisses, and he sucks on your lower lip as he pulls away. “Like a cute little pornstar.”

You sigh quietly as he shifts, letting his fingers stroke one last time through your folds as he retracts his hand and lifts his fingers to his lips. It doesn’t surprise you when he sucks your cum from them, unabashed in his hedonism. “Is that a good thing?”

“The best.” He grins at you, then lifts his watch and presses a little button on the side. “Five minutes and fifty-two seconds. Beat that, Jimmy Page.”

“Oh, I think you’re much better than Jimmy Page,” you coo at him, tiredly wrapping your arms around his neck. You peck the tip of his nose. “But the next time you get me back here with the sole intention of fucking me, you might try kissing me first?”

Eddie blushes. “I wasn’t… ah… I didn’t know if that was, um. On the table or not.”

You frown at him. “Baby, I let you fuck me in the back room of the bakery. I kissed you last night- Why the hell wouldn’t I let you kiss me now?”

“I dunno, I’ve been with a couple girls who just… didn’t want to kiss me? You didn’t make a move, and I didn’t want to assume-”

You cut him off with a long, wet kiss that makes him grunt in surprise. You don’t know who the hell wouldn’t want to kiss Eddie, but you’ve always been a romantic at heart. You stare into his eyes, holding his face and stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “You kiss me any time, any where you want, Eddie Munson. In front of whoever you want. You have carte blanche.”

“Sounds… sounds good.” Eddie’s round, dark eyes blink up at you, adoration brimming in them. “I’ll kiss you all the time, then. You’ll get sick of me.”

“I’m already sick of you,” you grumble, rubbing his shoulder. “Imagine what would happen if I got really fucking annoyed with you.”

“I can’t wait.” He presses a featherlight kiss to the corner of your mouth, and then smacks your ass so hard it makes you yelp. “C’mon, you gotta get to work.”

“Yeah, about that.” You crawl off of his lap to grab your bag of clothes. “You mean to tell me you went out of your way to drive me to work, pick me up two hours early, and you’re not even scheduled today?”

“What can I say?” Eddie shrugs. “I couldn’t go twenty-four hours without seeing you. You’ve bewitched me- OW!”

You giggle as he rubs the spot on his leg that you kicked as you were tugging your sweats off. “Oops.”

Eddie grabs your ankle and yanks you toward him so that you slip down onto your back, still giggling as he clambers on top of you and starts planting kisses across your bare chest. “Oops.”

Mimi Callaghan is a friendly woman in her mid-sixties, with bright red hair that she likes to pile on top of her head like frosting on a cupcake. It makes extreme sense that she’d surround herself with baked goods as a career move. 

She’s also sharp as a tack, which is why you turn on your heels and crush up against Eddie trying to walk back out of the door when you see that she’s in the building. 

“We gotta go, Mimi’s here,” you whisper, frantically struggling to push him back. You jam your chest up against his and wiggle your arms, grasping at the cool outside air like you can grab onto the afternoon sunlight and pull yourself out of the bakery lobby. 

Eddie’s weight solidly presses you forward. “It’s fine, sweetheart-”

“She’s gonna know we were smoking,” you retort, still pushing yourself weakly against him. You’re making a scene; you can feel your coworkers’ eyes burning into the back of your skull. 

“It’s fine, you’re fine. Je-sus, would you stop.” Eddie plants his hands on your sides and physically drags you into the bakery as you hit at his back. “Hi, Mimi!” 

“Mister Munson! What are you doing here?” Mimi’s jovial voice can be heard loud and clear all the way from the kitchen. She smacks her hands on her apron, covering the green fabric in powdered sugar. “Not that I don’t like seeing your lovely face.” 

Eddie beams at your boss, and it’s like the sunlight from outside begins and ends on his face. “Just dropping this one off.” He turns you around by the shoulders, walking you around the counter and into the kitchen. Eddie kisses the crown of your head and shoves you forward so that you stop across a decorating counter from Steve. 

Steve looks up at you from under his long lashes, a knowing smirk on his pink lips. Caramel colored hair falls over his forehead, and the contrast of the bright pink uniform shirt to his tan skin is more than tempting. 

You nearly vibrate with nerves as Steve does a slow and deliberate once-over of your entire body. “Have a good morning?”

You clear your throat, but something still grates at your voice when you say, “Something like that.”

Steve simply nods, clearly trying to swallow down his smile, and then holds up a flat disc of bread. “What is this?”

“That’s our spinach and feta focaccia,” you say, watching as he roughly shakes open a bag and drops the bread into it. The bread tears through the bottom of the bag and plops loudly onto the ground. You and Steve both stare at the fallen focaccia in silent grief. 

“Wellp. Ashes to ashes,” Eddie quips, brushing a hand through your hair. His mouth touches your ear like he means to kiss you again, but he whispers, “How do you feel?”

“Like I’m gonna kick you again.” Your eyes follow the line of Steve’s body as he bends to pick up the focaccia and toss it into a nearby bin. Saliva pools on your tongue, and you try to swallow the rogue feeling of desire as quickly as it manifests. 

Insatiable. 

Eddie follows your gaze. “Looking good today, Harrington,” he says suggestively, squeezing the back of your neck as he does. “Got some new chapstick or something?”

Steve scoffs good-naturedly, picking up another focaccia and gingerly tucking it into its bag this time. He shoots Eddie a side eye. “Yeah, actually. Wanna try it?”

“You know what, I sure do-”

Steve’s hand whips into the pocket of his apron, and a tube of cherry flavored chapstick hits Eddie right between the eyes. Eddie fumbles to catch it and glares at Steve. “I was fuckin’ kidding.”

“I wasn’t.” Steve goes back to packaging bread, while Eddie grumbles under his breath and pops open the tube to apply some.

You watch him run the chapstick over his plush lips, and he catches you staring out of the corner of his eye. “Want some?”

“Yeah, sure.” You hold out your hand for him to give you the tube. 

Eddie grabs you by the chin and tilts your head up to crash his lips against yours. Saccharine cherry flavored balm bleeds into your mouth, and you falter, your hand coming up to grip the neckline of his Metallica shirt. Your face heats up, both surprised and sort of pleased that he took what you told him in the car to heart. When he pulls back, his mouth is smudged with a translucent pink shine. 

“Hm. So you guys had a really good morning,” Steve observes as you reach up to wipe the mess from around Eddie’s mouth with your thumbs. 

“Only the best for our girl,” Eddie purrs, winking at Steve once you finally let him go and very pointedly tucking Steve’s chapstick into his back pocket. “Take good care of her today?”

Steve grins, first at Eddie, and then at you. “Oh, I will.”

Eddie pats your back and turns to leave, waving at Mimi as he does. He makes it halfway out of the kitchen before her cheery voice stops him. “Before you go, Eddie, there’s free food in the back room.”

You see the baker, Andy, poke his head out of the back room, his mouth full of food. “We got hot dogs!”

“Really?” Eddie turns on his heels and makes his way toward the back room. You jump to follow closely behind, your stomach feeling suddenly hollow. You hear Steve drop what he’s doing, trailing on your heels. 

The setup in the back room isn’t what you thought it would be; some lukewarm franks under a little heat lamp, one bag of buns, miniscule toppings of pickled relish, ketchup, and mustard. Despite the miserable presentation, you’re surprised to find that almost every employee you know at the bakery is crammed in the small back room. Joey and Miranda from the morning team, obviously already clocked out, the cake decorators Clara and Bridgit, and Andy off in the corner. You and Eddie both muscle your way past Joey and go for the food with more fervor than necessary. Steve hangs back, leaning against the towers of backstock icing.

Mimi appears at the doorway with an unsettlingly bright smile on her face. “Good. Now that you’re all here, I want to have a little team meeting-”

Eddie grunts in surprise, his mouth half stuffed with food. His hot dog is already falling apart around his fingers, heaps of relish plopping messily onto a styrofoam plate. He fixes Mimi with a wide-eyed stare, and then looks at Steve with an equally helpless expression. Steve shrugs at him as if to say, ‘What do you want me to do?’

“I thought it would be nice to have a little free lunch for everybody,” Mimi says kindly. “Since we’ve also recently gotten a few new members on the team, I’m sure you’d all like to get to know each other.” She gestures at Steve and Eddie, and then looks pointedly at you beside them. “It’s… lovely to see that our closing team is already getting along so well.”

Eddie coughs, nearly choking on his food and turning away from the room with a bright crimson blush on his cheeks. 

“Eddie and I are both really happy to be here. We’re lucky to have such an… understanding trainer. We know we can be a lot to handle,” Steve says with the phoniest smile you’ve ever seen on his face. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eddie sort of side-stepping, cramming himself between Steve and the frosting buckets to get to the door. “Hey Eddie, where ya goin’?”

Eddie freezes. “I have… uh… a thing across town.”

“A thing?” Steve says incredulously.

“Really important thing,” Eddie supplements. “Have to pick up my… cat from the… vet?”

“Stay just a moment, Eddie,” Mimi says, still blocking the door to prevent him from leaving. “It’s important that I touch on a few things before you go.”

Eddie shuffles back over beside you, elbowing Steve in the side on the way. Steve whacks him on the back of the head. 

“We have a health inspection coming up, so I want everyone doing their level best to clean as much as possible,” Mimi begins. Still engrossed in your food, you take a look around the group and can tell that everyone is only really half-listening. “If the morning team can focus on cleaning their stations- Andy, the baker’s table needs to be scoured- and the evening team can focus on machinery and displays, that would be ideal. That means you as well, Steve.”

Steve holds up his hands with a confused expression. “I clean!”

“Knocking all the crumbs off of the front counter and onto the floor doesn’t count,” Mimi says flatly. “I want to see your hands looking as chapped as mine by the end of the week.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve nods, dropping his eyes to the floor. 

“And if you closers can do something about the pastry display,” Mimi adds, looking out of the door toward the offending display case at the front of the shop. “There’s a sort of… black grease that’s built up on the back of it. Not sure how, but I need one of you to get in there and scrub that down as soon as possible.”

“Of course, Mimi,” you say around a mouthful of hot dog bun. “We’ll get on that tonight.”

“Excellent.” Mimi sighs, “Well, that’s really all. Everyone, enjoy the rest of your days. Eddie, you’re free to… pick up your cat.”

“Thank go- you, Mimi.” Eddie bats his eyelashes as he approaches the door, chucking his styrofoam plate into a bin. “You’re an absolute goddess.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Mimi chides, but steps away from the door to let him pass. As always, sharp as a tack, she adds passively, “You sure you don’t want to kiss your girl again?”

“Hm?” Eddie pauses at the door, turning to glance at you over his shoulder, like he forgot that he planted one on you right where your boss had a front row seat to see it happen. He considers it for a moment, and then cracks a smirk that makes your heart rate kick up a notch, knowing what’s about to come. “Nah. Harrington’s got her. Don’t ya, big boy?”

He’s… listen.

Listen. 

Steve is so fucking distracting, okay? It’s not like you’re trying to fuck up all your packaging, or… or put the wrong frosting on the macarons. It’s not your fault that Eddie stole your extra pair of panties before you could put them on this afternoon, so you have to feel how sticky the skin is between your thighs, and it’s fucking obnoxious. It’s not your fault that every time Steve gets close enough, he’s brushing his hand across your arm or grabbing your hips to scoot past you. Getting into your personal space, making it a goddamn nightmare to concentrate on anything.

Crouched down beside you, his shoulder nudges your leg as he digs around for a plastic top for a cake box. You know that it’s in the next cabinet over, but you don’t have the heart to tell him. You press your thighs together, trying hard to still your shaking hands as you carefully ice a macaron with the correct frosting this time. 

Steve sighs and pulls back. His hand brushes your knee as he does, and it nearly buckles out from under you. You whimper slightly in the back of your throat, clutching onto the counter for support. 

Jesus Christ. Get a fucking grip.  

“You okay?” Steve asks lightly, peering up at you from his place by your hips. He’s kind of oblivious, but also kind of not. You don’t think he’s aware of how badly his closeness is affecting you, but he is doing it in the hopes of drawing a response from you. Good plan, poor ability to assess the actual damage.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” It sounds unconvincing, high and tight in your throat, but you pick up the bright pink frosting bag again and get back to work. “The lids are in the other cabinet.”

“Oh.” 

He’s such an idiot. You want to jump his bones.

You can’t stop thinking about Steve’s dick in your mouth, and how unfortunate it is that it isn’t there right now. It’s 7:30, getting dark out, and there’s just you, and him, and your fucking monstrous libido alone in the bakery. You should have known it would be like this- it seemed like Eddie was almost certain that it would be, even though he’d given you plenty of attention already.

“So,” Steve starts, his voice lilting as he leans over to grab the lids from the correct cabinet. “You and Eddie?”

He doesn’t have to go into detail for you to know what he’s asking about. The shaking in your hand subsides, for now. “Yeah. You and Eddie?” 

“Mhm, yeah, for a while now.” A pause. A breath of air, suspended over a precipice. “You and me?” 

“Absolutely.”

“Okay.” You look down at him, and he’s smiling to himself. “Okay. Good. So, we’re all on the same page?”

“Eddie laid it out for me pretty well this morning, yeah. You already talked about it?” You grin when he nods, blinking up at you through his lashes. You reach down and stroke his cheek with the knuckle of your finger. “Guess we’re both pretty crazy about you.”

Steve blushes. It’s pretty on him, you think. The pink tinge on his cheeks, his cute little eye roll as he shifts on his heels. “Eddie’s, uh… yeah, when he likes you, he goes all in. He can be pretty handsy, huh?”

“Yeah, it sort of surprised me.” You find yourself smiling too, as you look down at your work. “I like it, though. I like handsy guys.”

Steve is quiet for so long that you wonder if you’ve scared him; but then you feel the warmth of his hand wrap around your ankle. His palm slowly starts to slide up your leg, until his arm nudges your skirt out of the way. 

Your hand slips, painting your thumbnail in violent bright magenta frosting. “Steve…”

“Relax,” Steve murmurs, and his voice grounds you in your place so that you don’t have a way to run from it. His hand turns, fingers brushing up the soft skin of your inner thigh, and you fight not to spread your legs automatically. “I just want to check something.”

“Check what?” you ask, as if it isn’t painfully obvious when his hand stops, fingertips finding the sticky, wet mess at the tops of your thighs. Steve’s breath audibly hitches, and you freeze, your eyes snapping forward to the front of the bakery. 

You should really lock the door.

Steve presses his hand further upwards, and you don’t think he’s expecting to find you without any underwear- his finger dips quite suddenly between your wet folds and you both startle, you fumbling your frosting bag with a quiet gasp and him dropping his forehead to rest against your hip. 

You grind down onto his fingers without thinking, making his fingertip slip just slightly into your hot entrance. Steve groans and digs a white knuckled grip with his free hand into the edge of the counter beside you. 

“We’re gonna take a break,” Steve blurts loudly, without warning, his voice sounding hoarse and strained. 

“Uh-huh, yeah,” you agree shakily, dropping everything in your hands immediately. “We’re closing early tonight.”

“We are?”

You mean to stroke Steve’s hair when he pulls his hand away from you, but in your rush you sort of just bonk him on the head with the flat of your palm and then fucking bolt. You sprint to the front door, turn the latch on the handle and flip the cardboard sign to ‘closed.’

As you turn to make your way back to the kitchen, you glimpse the pastry case and it’s enough to almost make you pause. That’s… okay, that looks like shit. Black grease shining all over the wall behind the shelves, like someone unloaded the oil cache from the donut fryer down the back of it. Your eyes drift back to the kitchen, and find Steve leisurely untying his apron as he walks toward the back room. 

Yeah, no. Dick first. Pastry case later.

Your hands hover over the tie of your apron as you blaze through the kitchen after him. To undress, or not to undress? You’re not totally sure what the vibe is yet, but you can always-

Broad hands grab you as soon as you step through the door into the back room. You yelp as you’re pulled suddenly into a warm embrace, Steve’s arms wrapping around you and his body pressing you up against the book keeper’s desk. 

“You’re so fucking sexy, you know that?” Steve whispers, his breath touching your neck before his lips do. He grabs your thighs and hoists you up onto the desk, crowding between your knees before you can think to close them. 

His hands are everywhere. Untying your apron, answering your question for you. In your hair, tugging your head back so he can mouth at your neck without obstructions. Undoing the front of your dress so that he can grope at your bare chest. 

Handsy guys. You fucking love handsy guys. And now you have two of them. 

“Mind if I ask,” Steve mutters softly, palms sliding under your skirt, “no underwear…?”

“Eddie stole them.”

“Of fucking course.” He huffs a laugh in your ear; you can hear his eye roll with it. “Can’t say I blame him, though. I kept the ones from last night.”

You whimper high in your throat as he latches onto your lower lip, sucking it between his teeth. There’s a moment when you consider how different he is compared to Eddie; Eddie’s a little rough around the edges in just about every way, and that includes how he handles you. Not that you don’t like it, but Steve is just… gentle. Almost soft, in a way. 

Your breath hitches as his fingers coax your skirt up your legs and your wet cunt hits the cool air. Hips squirming toward him impatiently, trying to meet him in the middle, and Steve’s too busy tasting you to care. “Little needy, are we?”

“Cut the crap, Harrington, I want to fuck you so bad-” You gasp when he bites down on your lip a little bit harder.

“Such a romantic.” Steve doesn’t sound as miffed as he tries to appear, as he reaches to undo his belt. “Wanted to warm you up first, make sure it wouldn’t hurt. Guess not.”

“It won’t.” 

Steve lifts his eyes, staring levelly at you with an amused expression. The twinkling sound of his belt buckle fills the quiet air. “If you say so.”

He’s quick about it, to your relief. Which isn’t to say that he isn’t still infernally gentle, even though you wish he’d just grab you by the throat and slam into you at this point. That’s just not Steve Harrington’s style, apparently. No, his hands grab your hips and rub soothing little circles into the skin as his cock splits you open, and your nails scratch over his collar and up into his hair. 

“Fuck, Steve.” It does hurt, just a bit. That raw aching when he fills you, because you weren’t ready for it and he’s so fucking big that parts of you have to be moved out of the way to accommodate him. Your toes curl, and your mary janes pop off and scitter to the floor behind him when you wrap your legs around his waist. 

His voice low and quiet, right up against your ear, Steve gives you a small groan that tells you more about how desperate he is than his words do. “Told you. You’re so tight- think it’s too much for this little pussy.”

“N-no, it’s no-OT-” You writhe against him when he hollows out just slightly and pushes back in, getting half an inch deeper. Your hands tear at his clothes and his hair, looking for something to hold onto.  “Shitshitshit- Steve, Jesus Christ.”

Steve shushes you, cradling your body against him like he’s trying to console you while he keeps rocking himself into you. “You’re working yourself up, honey, you gotta just relax. Take a deep breath for me, baby. Deep breath, c’mon now-” 

You take a gasping breath that sort of stalls in your lungs because he’s still moving, and it hurts but it also feels so fucking good and cathartic that you’d kill him if he stopped. Steve’s arm is around your back to hold you by the neck, and his other hand has one of yours trapped in a crushing grip between your chests. He squeezes it softly with every slow push and pull he makes inside you. 

“Oh fuck oh fuck.” You’re hissing through your teeth, clawing at his back to urge him deeper and at the same time ground yourself. Each breath leaves you with a shallow, anguished moan attached, which would be embarrassing, except you’re not thinking clearly enough to sort through the muck of your emotions right now. “Don’t- don’t you dare fucking stop.”

“I’m not gonna stop,” Steve assures you, inching forward just enough to sink his cock a little further into you before drawing slowly out, giving it to you in small doses. You whine as he pushes in, and he coos with a bit of gravel in his voice, “I know, it’s a lot. You’re taking it so well.”

“Love your cock,” you mutter weakly, surprising both Steve and yourself. Where the fuck did that come from?

“I hope so,” Steve chuckles. He squeezes your hand in his comfortingly. “I’m gonna make you take all of it, I promise.”

That sounds… kind of threatening, when he puts it like that. Like a backhanded slap and then a swift kiss to the cheek. 

You like it so much. 

“Hear that?” he murmurs lightly, way too soft for the way his hand tightens on your neck. In the back of your mind you register what he’s talking about- the obnoxiously slick sound of him driving in and out of you, your cunt absolutely drowning him in your need. “You’re getting my cock all wet, babygirl. Being so good for da- me.”

Steve finally slams into you just then, and you loudly cry out his name at the feeling of him reaching the end of you. It disrupts your train of thought so thoroughly that you almost miss his little slip-up. Almost. 

As you recover you manage to reach up and take his chin in your hand. “Daddy?” 

His eyes are so dark, but he looks a little shy as you stare into his face. He blinks rapidly, cheeks flushing a deep pink. Gotcha. 

“Fuck,” Steve groans, his forehead falling to rest against yours. “Shit, don’t- you don’t have to call me that-”

“Maybe I want to,” you breathe, gasping when his hips lurch forward into yours. “I wanna be good for you, daddy.”

He growls under his breath, blunt nails scraping down your thighs. “Sounds so sweet when you say it.”

“Mm. Harder.”

Steve’s enthusiasm gives you a sort of perverse satisfaction. He hikes your knee up to his waist and buries himself inside you, his skin impacting yours and the desk thudding against the wall behind you. You whimper when he starts up a pace that has him panting against your ear. 

Your head rolls back on your shoulders, and Steve wastes no time tracing the line of it with his tongue. Half aware of what you’re doing, your hand shoots down and around his hip to grab a fistful of his ass, urging him on. He nearly snarls against your throat, hot air bursting across your skin as the arm holding you to him leaves your back and his hand slams loudly against the wall behind you. 

Steve really is a sight to behold when he loses his composure. He’s always gorgeous, of course- infuriatingly so, at times. But now your gaze is clouded with lust and your mind is stumbling while you blink your eyes open at him, and he’s so close to you with his hair falling across his brow and his lips parted as he stares directly into your face. His deep brown eyes are blown wide and black, heavy lidded, and you feel like you might burst.

“I’m gonna come,” you blurt suddenly, hands frantically scrambling up to his shoulders and clutching onto him tightly and trying to lock yourself down at the feeling. It bubbles up out of nowhere, like Steve managed to conjure it up just by looking at you.

You see a smirk break across his face just before your eyes fall shut. “So soon?”

“Yeah,” you whimper. “S’too good. You feel so good, daddy.”

“Oh my god,” he groans, but there’s a little bit of a snicker there in it. His hand skims your thigh and then you feel his thumb touch your clit, and everything whites out of existence. “You’re too perfect. Come for me.”

You don’t answer him. You just do, and it sweeps through you before you’re able to brace yourself for it. Fingers digging into the muscle of his shoulders, you cry out, louder than you mean to be but beyond the point of caring. Your legs shake, tense and release with each wave because Steve just keeps going- not speeding up or slowing down, but just remaining the steady constant in the ebb and flow. 

Steve curses lowly, his lips dragging gently over yours but not quite going all the way in for a kiss. “Just like that- get my cock nice and creamy, baby.”

Your face burns. The rest of your skin feels hot and clammy, sticking to him wherever you touch his body. There’s a whirlwind of sound going on in your head; from Steve’s deep grunts, your moans, the desk banging against the wall and his skin impacting yours, you don’t know what’s what anymore. 

You almost don’t even notice it when the phone on the wall above your head starts ringing. 

“Fuck.” Steve rears back, pissed off and rutting his hips into yours so hard that you cry out. He glances at the clock on the far wall and scoffs, “Who the hell calls this late?” before snatching the phone off the hook. 

His free hand finds your throat, pinning you back against the wall. You whimper, defenseless as Steve presses the phone to his ear. “Thank you for calling Mimi’s Bakery, this is Steve.”

For fuck’s sake.  

You feel like you’re going to combust. You’re still too sensitive from your orgasm and Steve’s hand on your throat locks you in place to hold you still while he starts fucking into you harder. Skin on skin on skin, bent backwards over the desk as his hips slam into yours and the messy patch of hair at the base of his cock grinds up against your clit. You whine loudly, and Steve’s hand just tightens that much more to silence you. 

He’s not even looking at you. Steve’s eyes have drifted off to the side, focused on whatever the person on the phone is saying. He tilts his head, gnawing on his lip and humming low in his throat while he considers whatever the question is. 

“Mmm… dunno, let me check on that for you.” Steve finally looks you directly in the eye. “Do we have cream pies tonight?”

Your brain short circuits. What the… what? He… he fucking put the selection of cream pies out himself earlier? Why would he ask you?

Then he nods downward, his eyes flickering to where he pulls back and drives his cock into you. Steve looks back up at you questioningly. 

Oh. Oh fuck.  

You nod your head quickly, your nails biting into the skin of his forearm. You don’t even second guess it. You’re so close to your second orgasm that you can taste it on the back of your tongue, and you don’t think you could handle it if he pulled out now. 

Steve grins, and you think it’s probably the prettiest thing you’ve seen all night. “Yes sir, we do. However the bakery is closed tonight, so those will be available tomorrow. Would you like me to set those aside for you? Mhm, how many?”

He goes on like that for another minute, but you’re barely listening anymore. Your cunt pulses, so wet that you can hear every slow drag of his cock before he reaches the end of you again. All your muscles lock down, your head digs back against the wall, and you come again. Hard.  

“Thank you for calling sir have a good night bye,” Steve chokes out in one long breath, and then his hand slams the phone down onto the receiver. He buckles forward over you and gasps loudly. “Holy shit, oh my god. Good girl, good fucking girl-”

And his mouth is on yours, sucking at your bottom lip as his thrusts turn sloppy. His hand leaves your throat to skim around your waist and pull your chest flush to his. He cradles you close and plants his hips against yours, stealing your breath with kisses and moaning sweetly as he comes. 

Afterwards, the room is way too fucking still and quiet. Your skin tingles, your cunt still pulsing with aftershocks as it milks his cock, but the silence makes your ears ring. You card your fingers through his hair, letting Steve sweep his tongue against yours as many times as he wants as long as it means he’ll stay this close to you for a little while. 

“That wasn’t how I thought it would be.”

He grunts, his teeth grazing your lip. “What did you have in mind?”

“Dunno.” You pause as he presses a chaste kiss to your closed lips, your eyes fluttering. “Maybe we could do it in a bed next time?”

Steve laughs at that. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers to you, his voice touched with something so genuine that it rattles you, nearly making tears prick at your eyes. You just cling to him, squeezing your eyes shut and trying not to sniffle about it. 

“Thank you,” you mumble wetly into his neck. 

Steve sighs when he pulls back. His hand comes up to softly smooth your hair back as he takes in your face. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, swallowing back the lump in your throat. “Nothing. You’re just… you’re so sweet.”

He hums softly, catching a stray tear on his thumb as it falls down your cheek. To your relief, he doesn’t mock you or seem disturbed by it, he just takes it in stride. “Do you want me to… not be?”

“No, it’s- it’s a good thing, I swear-” You lean your cheek into his hand, letting him hold your face as you reel yourself in. “I’m just getting used to it, that's all.”

“Good. ‘Cuz it’s only gonna get worse from here,” Steve whispers with a gentle smile. He pets your thigh. “Feel better now?”

You grumble in the back of your throat. “The fuck’s that s’posed to mean?”

He shrugs. “You’ve been looking like you wanted to rip my clothes off since you got here.” Steve chuckles a bit when you whack him on the arm, “Only an observation, you’re not good at hiding it.”

Serves you right for thinking he was oblivious. “You guys have me fucking figured out and I’ve been with you for, like, a day.” 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He hisses when he takes your hip in his hand and slowly pulls out of you, leaving you whining from the emptiness. “I know, honey. Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you mutter, biting your lip when he adjusts the front of your dress and buttons it back up for you carefully. “No, you’re really wonderful. Daddy.”

Steve tilts his head and purses his lips, trying to hide the smile on his cheeks. “Wasn’t expecting you to pick up on that.”

“You’re not good at hiding it.”

Steve snickers, pulling you close to rest his forehead against yours again. He presses a few slow kisses to your lips, lingering over them like he’s trying to decide whether he really wants to go back to work or not. You’re not about to tell him to stop. 

CRASH!

You both instantly freeze, listening to the ungodly loud clatter of a million pastry boxes hitting the ground. Steve’s brows dig into a deep frown very quickly, while you put the front of his pants to rights and push yourself forward off the desk. 

“The fuck was that?”

“Why are you asking me, hot shot?” You smack him on the back, making him lurch toward the door. “If we’re being burgled, I’m the only one here not wearing pants.”

Still, you grip onto his belt and creep behind him through the door to the kitchen, peering cautiously over his shoulder. You don’t immediately see anything amiss in the bakery, except that half a display of muffins and cinnamon rolls has been knocked halfway to hell. Things are eerily quiet for a few more seconds, before something leaps up off the ground and starts flapping around the bakery lobby, snarling and snapping. 

You scream, clutching onto Steve’s middle and nearly hauling him back into the back room again. It looks like a giant flying… stingray? No, stingrays don’t have teeth. It’s like a weird, disgustingly large bat with no actual head. Like a leech with long teeth and wings. 

You vaguely hear Steve saying something, but you’re too busy trying to battle the bat in a game of who-can-screech-the-loudest. It’s only when Steve finally turns, grabbing you by the shoulders so that you can look at him, that you stop to consider what he’s saying. 

“-fire, get me something with fire, okay?”

“Fire?” You try to maintain a steady balance, keeping an eye on the thing in the bakery lobby and his face. 

“Yes, babe, fire. That hot shit that burns stuff, remember? Get me some of that.”

You nod mutely, starting to shake from adrenaline. You watch Steve pick up a giant metal rolling pin off the baker’s table, twirling the pin in his hand in a way that should not be as attractive as it is. 

You try to think of something in the bakery that creates fire- something handheld, you assume, because the only thing coming to mind is the little stove in the corner used primarily to melt chocolate and different icings. For a kitchen, not too many things in it conjure up flames at a moment's notice. 

But then you remember, on Saturdays the morning team makes crème brûlée for the brunch crowd. 

You dive for the decorators table, but you honestly have no idea where they keep the blow torches. It’s a long shot in the dark, but you just start hauling shit out of the cupboards like your life depends on it. 

It might, you think wearily. 

Over the counter, you can hear Steve scuffling with the screeching bat, and you pause long enough to glance up at what’s going on in the lobby. You manage to catch him at the exact moment that he cracks the bat with the rolling pin, knocking it across the bakery like a baseball and making it slam into the wall beside the pastry case. 

You blink down at the half empty cupboard in front of you and see the emerald green can of a blow torch, shining up at you like the light at the end of the tunnel. Your shaking hands fumble with it as you yank it out. “STEVE!” 

He turns just in time to see you hurl the blowtorch across the front counter at him. Which is probably not great in the grand scheme of safety measures, but y’know. 

He snatches the blowtorch out of the air right as the fucking bat starts writhing around again. Steve flicks it on and lights the damn thing up without a second thought, creating a blazing inferno on the bakery floor. 

It takes a second for the fire to die down, and in that time you kind of army crawl around the counter to sit and stare at the bat with wide, unblinking eyes. 

Steve says your name. You don’t respond. 

He takes a couple steps toward you, but then stops short. When you snap your eyes to him, he’s running his hand frustratedly through his hair, staring at the pastry case. 

You hesitantly inch forward on your knees and look around the side of it at what he’s fussing over. The case itself is intact, a few of the pastries themselves gone askew when, you presume, the giant ass demon bat flew out of it. But the back of it… that’s a whole other story. 

Where before there was what appeared to be just a giant, slick grease stain, now there’s a gaping hole with a glowing membrane across it. You don’t know what it is, but Steve seems to as he swears like a sailor and drops to sit on the ground next to you. 

“Bats,” you blurt out, catching Steve's attention. He turns to gaze at you, holding his head in his hands. You look at him apprehensively. “Eddie said he was attacked by bats.”

Steve is quiet for way too long, blinking at you like he’s trying to figure out what to say. Then, he nods slowly. “We need to call Eddie.”

[triple-starsss]

idk if you've answered this before but what does everyone study in college? in my head tails majors in aerospace engineering :)

making me wrack my brain for college courses LMAO. thing is since i live in the UK, people here start college at 16 and its manditory.

BUT I THINK I WANT TO VEER TOWARDS THE US SYSTEM? FOR THE AU. so they'd start at like 18/19 and they'd be able to skip it entirely if they really wanted to.

this goes on for a while so erghghgf

not gonna go into specific courses since i'd be here forever but.. I THINK

Sonic didn't go to college, i genuinely do not know what career path he'd choose so he sort of just decided aaghh fuck it i'll take whatever job i can. I feel like whilst he values education, he'd much rather learn from experience than sit in a classroom for hours on end.

Shadow didn't attend college either but thats because he's homeschooled!! majority of his studies were more veered towards science n medicine. so something within those fields.

SILVER!! HE DID ATTEND!! n this guy did want to pursue music for a career so he went with that!! At first he thought he'd never actually. be able to put what he learnt to use since he'd been working at Vanilla's Bakery for so long and didn't really see it as an option anymore but then BAM Ivo jumpscare.

Tails..the one guy who is actually going to college,, YEAH HE'D DO SOMETHING WITHIN ENGINEERING!

OKAY YK WHAT GONNA SPEED THROUGH THE REST.

Blaze - business, do you guys see a pattern here with the canon royalty owning businesses LMAO

Amy - probably switched courses like multiples times but i think she'd pursue something within psychology, sociology or culinary arts!!

Vector - economics, my guy is stuck in student debt forever

Espio - something in my gut is telling me he'd do anthropology and i dont know why

Knuckles - didn't attend, busy working his ass off on the farm

Rouge - business/management!! didn't end up doing anything with it though (UNTIL WAY LATER MAYBE, wouldn't be rouge if she didn't own a club eventually pfft)

Metal - don't think he'd go to college

Infinite - went but didn't do shit LMAO. don't know what he'd do but i dont think he does either.

Mephiles - another bitch in psychology (went to college to learn how to become a master manipulator LMAO)

Jet - he didn't go

[cozage]

Thinking about what if Trafalgar Law had an s/o that is secretly rich. Like...

They don't flaunt it but they aren't exactly hiding it either. How would law react?

Would he be neutral? Would he be confused...? Like...? What?

Characters: GN! reader x Law

Cw: some fighting/arguments, cute fluff other than that :) 

Total word count: 700

Quite literally nothing goes unnoticed with Law, so I imagine he figures out you’ve got money pretty quickly. However, he’s not sure how much you have or how you’re getting it, and he won’t confront you until something big happens.

It starts out with little things. On port days you always come back with an extra special dessert or something fancy to share with the whole crew. Law can calculate how much it costs to buy something that nice for a crew of 20 people. He doesn’t think anything of it at first, but after the third time at port, he’s suspicious of your finances. But again, he’s not asking.

A crew mate mentions that they want something they see while they’re on an island but don’t have enough berries. Every now and then when you hear someone talk about something they really want, you’ll buy it for them and place it on their bed while they’re out. 

You never say anything about it or let them know it was you who bought it, but every time someone shows up to dinner showing off something they wanted, Law notices how your eyes are full of joy, while everyone else’s are full of amazement and shock. The crew thinks it’s their captain who’s giving the gifts, and he thoroughly denies it, but he never throws you under the bus.

And then the ship needs a repair. A BIG one. And you’re stuck at port until you can get it fixed. Law gets the estimate for repair at 100,000 berries. You can see he’s stressed about it, trying to figure out where to cut corners to afford such a big (but necessary) repair. His stress is bleeding into all other aspects of his life, including your relationship. 

So you walk into his office one day, and just set the money gently on the table, and walk away. He’s staring at the money, shocked that you could have so much on hand.

“Y/N-ya?” he calls to you before you exit the room. “Where on earth did you get this?”

“It’s better not to ask questions,” you smirk back at him and leave. You’d rather not tell him that you were rich, it’s not like it really mattered anyway. 

Later, when the two of you are alone in his room, he brings it back up again. “Seriously, though” he purrs to you, kissing the crook of your neck in between words. “Where are you getting all this money?”

You laugh and push him away gently, teasing him. “What, you think I’m a secret Marine spy or something?”

His eyebrow raised in suspicion, playing along with your joke. “Wouldn't be unheard of, you know.”

You kiss the tip of his nose, finally giving in. “It’s just some money I had from my past life, Captain. Nothing more to it.”

That’s enough of an answer for him. Law isn’t one to pry, and he trusts you completely.

He continues to let you do small gestures for your crewmates anonymously. Your secret is safe with him.

But he doesn’t let you pay for ship problems or other things he should have to deal with as a captain in the future. Sometimes it can spark arguments between the two of you. He’s so damn independent and prideful, and you just want to help ease his burdens when you can. You two usually find a compromise, but sometimes the argument can last a few days until one of you gives in to the other. 

Sometimes he caves first, sometimes you do. It not a super common occurrence, and after your alls spat about money is over, it’s completely forgotten. Law doesn’t want to take advantage of you, even though he knows you don’t see it like that. Because of that, you rarely buy things for him. He’s more of an “Acts of Service'' and “Quality Time” kind of guy anyway.

He likes to pamper you with gifts though. Little treats from a bakery, small pieces of jewelry you pass by and comment on. In the back of his mind, he knows you can afford it, but he still likes to show his love through little gifts anyway. And you like receiving the gifts too. They’re way more special coming from him.  

[disasterbuck]

impossible never has stopped you before

a 9-1-1 tsunami poem by luna

There's a moment of silence before it all breaks; he's standing beside you, his hand on your face. "You're gonna be okay," he promises you, and then calls you kid, and what can you do? But smile and love him and think he's divine and let the dark clouds be dispersed by his shine?

But all of that ends when you turn and you see a nightmare is coming – there's no time to flee.

"Where did all the water go?"

Impossible never has stopped you before so you pick up the boy and your feet hit the floor and "Get off the pier!" tears itself from your mouth as you run for your life and you pray for a drought.

Then the moment of impact rips you off your feet and you find yourself thrashing in darkness complete and you can't tell which way is the way to the sun and you're choking on water, it's filling your lungs. But your life is not at the top of your list and you'd happily die if it meant saving Chris so you kick through the water until you find air and scream 'til your lungs bleed when suddenly there–

"Christopher!" 

With him back in your arms cold but alive, you make sure he's safe and place him up high.

You both take a moment to get back your breath, glad you're alive; unbelievably blessed.

It doesn't occur to you, you could say no, when you hear cries for help you don't think – you just go. You allow all your training to take full control and adrenaline spurs you, it makes you feel bold.

One after another you help them all up until there's no room left on top of the truck. But that doesn't stop you, there's still more to save, and you reach for their hands as you're rocked by a wave.

And suddenly, though you don't even know how, you know Chris has fallen, you know that he's down

you know Chris has fallen you know that he's down

you know Chris has fallen you know that he'll…

drown

drown

drown

You jump in the water, forgetting to breathe, and you don't even feel getting hit by debris. The ocean is violent, it's spinning you round, and you know that you're screaming but can't hear a sound. You're desperate and careless, ignoring the risks; the more time that passes the more you feel sick. You search and you search as the wave goes back out and you've never in your whole life been more devout.

Then caught on some junk, you notice his glasses and as you retrieve them time no longer passes.

Your vision is blurred, you can't catch your breath. It feels like a knife cutting right through your chest.

"It's a good thing you're missing it. Hope you guys are having fun."

You gather your bearings and get back to work, resisting the urge to sink down to the earth.

Then someone has seen him and hope stirs anew which is good cause you need it to carry you through. The hours drag by and the day turns to night and you want to lie down but you're stubborn – you fight. So for now you keep moving and block out the dread cause you'll never forgive yourself if he is –

Not at the bakery south of the Strand and you've checked the emergency refugee camps. There's only one place that you haven't yet been but you don't want to go there, you don't want to see.

You're weary and aching, your heart is still racing, your breaths come out shaking– the phone's to your ear.

"I had him," you're saying, while silently praying, eyes constantly straying–

Heart stops.

"Eddie's here."

He sees you – and oh how you wish you could hide. You don't want to see the despair in his eyes. But there's no one else here, it's all up to you, so you open your mouth cause you know what to do.

You see realisation appear on his face and you wish you could take it back, somehow erase the pain that you're causing by telling him this but the only thing that could help now would be Chris.

"Christopher?" Yes that's right, you lost his son, but he's not looking at you – he's starting to run.

He's running; you turn and the world starts to spin, that boy over there, could that really be him?

"Dad!" he calls out and your legs start to shake and you watch as the two of them firmly embrace and relief washes over you – Chris is okay. At long last you can finally call it a day.

"He was looking for–"

"Buck,

what

happened

to you?"

[a-not-so-clean-blog]

Nu carnival x ftm period

Mentions of blood, general pain, dysphoria, and drugs

♦️Garu, Aster, Morvay

Yakumo

Boy is comforting by nature and he will do anything in his power to make you feel better. Warm soup, mint tea, any kind of comfort food; he'll make it all for you. If he needs to he will even fight the awkwardness and ask his grandma for advice on how to make “someone” on their period feel better. He knows better than to out you to anybody, even to the people he trusts most. He just wants you to feel better.

Edmond

He's going to need some help. He heard that people like chocolate when this happens so he gets you expensive chocolate confections from your favorite bakery. If he's not too busy he might make some with you. Quality time is important to him and he wants you to know he's here to support you even if he's too awkward to express it with words. He will make time to try and comfort you as much as he can but it will be in all non verbal ways.

Olivine

He will pray for your recovery. He sympathizes with you, he understands how much his essence imbalance hurts him so it makes sense that your hormone imbalance hurts you. It hurts him seeing you so uncomfortable and him not being able to help. He really doesn't want to leave you alone and it hurts him when he can't be by you to help. Even if it's simply grabbing something for you he wants to take as much of your burden as he can.

Quincy

Quincy is big and I think he's very warm too, especially his right hand because of the gem. He cuddles up to you and uses himself as a hot water bottle. Resting his hand on your stomach and letting you use him as a pillow. If you have any kind of mood shifts he takes it in stride. It kind of reminds him of dealing with a cat; wanting pets one moment and biting his hand the next. It doesn't bother him much though and it's nice having a grounding personality like his around while you wait out the pain. He probably offers some natural pain killers if it gets bad.

Kuya

He has a herb that he gives you to help. You don't know what the plant is but it helps. All the pain and discomfort are gone but it makes you feel weird in the head. You've tried finding the plant but no book or even Quincy knows what it is. Kuya just tells you not to worry about it and enjoy not being in pain. You should probably be more weary of him but the herb works so well that you can't really say no.

Blade

He freaks out when you tell him you're bleeding. He thinks you're injured and immediately goes into protection mode. You have to explain it happens to some guys monthly. That's satisfactory for his curiosity for now. It's best to just tell him what helps you manage pain. If you don't he will take the initiative to look up what will help…and he will want you to try the weirdest home remedies. So unless you want him asking you to put a frozen potato wedge cover in sesame oil in your underwear, I suggest being open with him very early. It's so hard to say no to his puppy eyes when he's just trying to help.

Garu

This gets a little weird so continue with caution. He smells it right before you start bleeding and it scares him the first time. It hurts your heart to have him look at you so worried for a week. You know he's just concerned but honestly it doesn't help the dysphoria at all.

Karu

He is confused. Normally if something is causing you pain he just breaks it. Like when you stubbed your toe on the table, no more table no more problem. However he can't just rip your guts out, that would just make more of a problem. He tends to keep his distance unless you give him a specific task, once the task is over he's going back to keeping his distance though.

Dante

He is no help. Honestly he has no idea what to do. Normally the guys he's around only bleed when they are stabbed, but at least he knows how to dress a stab wound. This however, is out of his league. When this time starts he will assign a personal assistant to you to help. They have full permission to get you literally anything you need. Dante doesn't want to know about periods and assumes you don't want anyone to know about yours either, so your assistant is also sworn to secrecy.

Rei

No help in the beginning. I don't think he's been around many AFAB people so you are going to be his first reference point. After this happens a few times though he actually figures out the best ways to help you. He will learn what makes you feel better in terms of painkillers vs muscle relaxers, he learns if any foods make you feel worse and avoids them. Yeah he treats it like an experiment but as long as it helps in the long run he doesn't think it matters. Also he memorized all the early signs and is fully prepared for when it actually starts. I'm not sure how skilled he is with a scalpel (or if you can trust him with a scalpel) but he may offer to remove the problem if you want.

Eiden

I think he's the only one on this list who truly understands how much this week triggers your dysphoria. He will do anything he can help physically, but he is also extra protective of your masculinity during this time. He will literally fight anyone who misgenders you, and makes sure to give you lots of compliments. “Y’know most guys can't handle pain as well as you do. I've even seen knights cry at the sight of a paper cut haha!” He's very proud of you and will make sure you know just how manly you are.

Aster

Also kinda nasty so read at your own risk…. “Free meal”. He uh, gets pretty excited when it happens. He tells you stuff like “you look so handsome today~” and other masc compliments but it's all a ploy to get in your pants. Honestly he's more pushy than Morvay is when you're bleeding. It's just that the constant smell of your blood is impossible for him to ignore. He helps with pain management but is really only invested in the clean up.

Morvay

He heard an orgasm helps with cramps… this is the only thing he will do to help, but being a service bottom he does it so well. He will bring you food in bed, let you eat, make you cum till you can't see straight and pass you, rinse and repeat for a week. He gets so pouty if you leave because “doctor Morvay” just wants to make you feel better.

[rui-drawsbox]

hmm im curious. whats olba about :0?

Oh anon you have no idea of what you just asked-- let me get my teacher costume

AHEM

OLBA or Our Life: Beginnings & Always it's a visual novel where you can play the perfect life you never got and cry about how much you wanted it after you finish it :DD (available on Steam for pc and Itch.io for both pc/mac and android!)

You play as-- well, you (or not, you choose)! You can choose your name, last name, pronouns, appearance, personality, hobbies, everything except your family, but you wouldn't like to change them for anything after you meet them.

You start the game as an innocent 8 years old kid that meets a random guy that tells you that he just moved across the street, he also tells you about his son: Cove! who has the same age as you. This guy tries to bribe you with 20 dollars, you can accept or refuse (or run! i like that option), either way you end up in a poppy hill behind your house and find the so famous Cove! He tells (cry) you that his parents just divorced and that he miss his mom ( :c ), you can comfort him or not, but you two still will be found by both of your families and have to go home.

That's the prologue! Gameplay aspect: it consists in 3 Steps of your life: 8, 13 and 18 years old! Each Step comes with 5 Moments, where you can spend time with (mainly) cove, if you're playing the base game. Talking about base game! You can complete it in around 5 hours (that's what took me the first time i think), and it comes with a 4th Step that work as an epilogue!

There are 6 paid DLC's (and a free one that is a name pack), 3 are other 15 moments for the first 3 Steps, 1 is a wedding dlc for our lovely Cove <3 (we'll get to him in no time), and the last 2 are extra content for two characters you'll meet in your very first playthough: Derek in Step 2 and Baxter in Step 3 (you should know this one very well if you follow me lmao), each with 5 moments extra for their assigned Step and their own Step 4 where you can follow and give proper closure to their stories!

I'll try to not ramble a lot because it's something you just need to experience yourself to get it but-- i will introduce you to the love interests! (or friendship interests, you don't need to crush on anyone to have a great time)

Cove Holden! Our lovely neighbor that we see almost everyday for like 10 years! You could also call him the second main character after you, since you learn more about him and his family during all the game. He's an introvert and ocean nerd (in the cutest way possible), depending on your choices you can shape his personality/style and become best buddies, the sweetest couple or just remain neighbours that never really got along. (you'll learn to love him, platonic or not, trust me)

Another perk of the game is that no matter what you do there's not "wrong or right" (unless you feel bad for the characters, like me), your actions does have consequences but there's nothing like a "bad ending/good ending", after all it's just your life, it goes on no matter what! Unless you want to reach a specific scene you found online you'll never have to use a guide for anything.

Derek Suarez! A caring guy! mabye a little too much, he's the oldest brother of 3 and that shaped him in a way that he always feels responsible of everything😔. During his storyline you'll help him to learn how to relax and lean on other people :D!

Baxter Ward! A monochromatic gentleman, mischievous as a cat and emotionally repressed like a pressure cooker <3. Struggles a lot with making deep conections and being emotionally vulnerable, you can imagine about what goes his storyline lol.

He's my favorite, if you haven't noticed. He has that infuriating charm that only someone that unironically says "Hallelujah" has. A very dramatic route, he's a very dramatic guy, you should see how he texts in step 3 aghsdas.

Also! all the side characters are super likeable, from your family to the baker of that bakery that is metioned a few times!

ANYWAYS, in conclusion: this is a very relaxing game! If you like visual novels you should definitely give it a try, the amount of replayability this game has is insane. My recommendations for when you play are:

Try the base game first! If you like it you can buy the moments dlcs (theyre only 3$ each!), mabye the wedding dlc after that (if you want to marry cove that is, this one is 2$ btw), Derek's dlc and Baxter's dlc (5$ each) for last. Those are pretty much the release order but i that's also the order i enjoy the most!

(play this game at least 2 times trying different choices/personality, the differences are ughhhh/pos)

When you're playing for the first time you should play the moments left to right. On later playthroughs you should change the order to find new dialogues! theyre small things but omg theyre so fun

Have fun! do whatever you want, i literally said there's no bad or good ending, take advantage of it and be as foward or shy as you want, be a little shit or a literal angel! That is your life we're talking about.

[tulip-room]

Crush Next Door - s. kiyoomi

syn. your childhood friend that you lose contact with moves next door

Ch. 9 || The Troublesome Quartet

warnings. None <3

words. 1.2k

prev >> series masterlist >> next

"Don't make me regret this," Sakusa sighs as Bokuto, Atsumu, Hinata, and Komori sit down at his dining room table. When Komori said he would find help Sakusa had a feeling it would be those three. He really just needed this to go perfectly.

"You can trust us!" Hinata beams at him while the others nod their heads.

"Yeah, we've got it under control! You can relax, Omi!" Atsumu chimes in. He pinches the bridge of his nose. Sakusa appreciated that they were willing to help him even if he hadn't said it out loud.

"Okay, I need someone to stay with me and help me set up."

"I can do that!" Atsumu is the first to raise his hand, Komori is just a second too late.

"Fine, Miya. You're going to help me set up. I need you three," he gestures to the other boys. "To take Y/N to lunch and keep her busy." He crosses his arms, the anxiety starting to get to him now that everything was coming together.

"We can do that," Komori gives him a reassuring smile and a thumbs up. The boys start to stand up from the table. "Just send me a text when we're good to come back."

"Fine." Sakusa stands from the table and looks at the time. "I don't think it'll take too long, two hours at most." He puts his phone back in his pocket. They nod and head out the door towards your home. It was a Saturday afternoon and you closed the bakery up earlier on those days so he wasn't worried about it interfering with your job. He takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself down.

"Wow Omi, I don't think I've ever seen you this nervous." Atsumu comments with genuine worry for his friend. He places a hand on his shoulder and it helps Sakusa just a little bit. "Don't spiral, I'm sure she'll love it. You have a lot of people helping you make sure everything goes well. Just focus on setting things up." That helps more. He can focus on setting up instead of what he's going to do when you get there.

Meanwhile

The boys had gotten to your house and Komori knocked on the door. Your surprised smile when you see him makes everyone happy. You immediately pull him in for a hug. "Komori! I haven't seen you in forever! Why didn't you stop by sooner , you silly goose?" You ask as you look him over.

"Been busy, it's good to see you again. I have some friends here with me and was wondering if you wanted to go to lunch with us since we were in the neighborhood." You nod your head.

"Yeah, just let me grab my bag real quick."

"No need, I'll pay." You roll your eyes but leave without your bag anyway. You walk to a small cafe that was near the neighborhood you lived in. "So," Komori starts after the four of you sit down. "How've you been?"

"Good," you smile and finally look around at the others. "Don't be rude. Introduce me, although I think I know you," you point towards the ginger. "Hinata, right? You're friends with Kiyoko and Yachi!"

"Yeah! I'm surprised you remembered me!" Hinata gives you a kind smile.

"You look different of course, it's a good different though." You smile back.

"Well this fella is Bokuto," he points to the other man at the table who immediately perks up and gives you a smile.

"Nice to meet you! Omi talks about you a lot!"

"Speaking of," Komori starts. " Please tell me about the rings. He told me I needed to ask you." You let out a quiet laugh.

"He's still keeping that a secret?" You ask gently and lean your hand on your hand. "It's not that big of a secret really, if he hasn't told you then I'm not going to." You hum with a smile at Komori's groan.

"You guys are killing me." Komori puts his head on the table with a frown.

"Why do you like him?" Hinata chimes in. It definitely takes you for a bit of a shock that he asked so brazenly but you think for a moment.

"Because he makes me feel like I'm finally home." There's coos around the table at your comment.

"When did you realize you loved him?"

"I didn't realize for a long time," you say with a laugh. Komori has to stop himself from blurting out that it can't have taken you longer than Sakusa himself. "I can't pinpoint an exact moment. It was more a sequence of moments. Falling in love is scary but I don't know...it never felt scary with him. It felt like even if I fell that he would be there to catch me. That's so sappy, sorry." You look away embarrassed.

"No, please. We want to hear it." Komori encourages.

"I think my soul loved him long before my heart did. I've loved him since we were kids, although I don't know if I even understood what love really meant back then. There's plenty of moments I could say I realized but that wouldn't really be truthful." You play with the string of your necklace. "I've loved Kiyoomi for as long as I can remember. I think it's something that's part of me by now, I don't think there will ever be a time in my life I won't love him in some way or another."

You stop when you hear sniffles from around the table. "Oh you saps," you tease the boys as they wipe tears from their eyes.

"You really care about him." Komori is the first to speak.

"Of course, that's what you do when you give your heart to someone. He's my person. My home." You say the last part looking at the ring on your necklace. Suddenly it clicks in Komori's head what the rings are referencing.

"No, he didn't." He smiles and looks between you and the ring. "You got those before you moved because..." he trails off.

"I got them so we could always find our way home." You smile fondly as you look at the worn and slightly tattered. "It looks like it worked."

Everything had finally been set up at Sakusa's house. There was a blanket fort in the middle of his living room complete with fairy lights, he's not sure where they came from. He thinks they're from the Christmas decorations box. Atsumu had returned home to grab some of his own things, a record player among them and he surprised both of them when he owned a Frank Valli record. The slightly worn record player now sat on his coffee table, the needle pushed off to the side so it didn't play.

The lights in the room had been turned down and while Atsumu had been setting that up Sakusa had been curating the perfect bouquet to give to you. Carefully cutting and pruning the flowers. Finding the perfect wrapping paper, making sure all the meanings lined up with what he was trying to tell you.

He's not sure how the shopkeeper had managed to pick the perfect flower for his feelings all those years ago but the star of the bouquet was a singular pink camellia. Among it were white carnations, red chrysanthemums, white clovers, daisies, heliotrope, and red tulips. It was the most thought he had ever put into a bouquet before.

Atsumu gave him one final pep talk before he left the house. Sakusa had just finished putting the finishing touches on the bouquet when the doorbell rang. You were there.

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[privateanxieties]

forget my mercy, take my blame (chapter 1)

Summary: For what it's worth, you don't know the man who's pointing the gun at your face. It's strange how one goes from bakery owner getting robbed to wanted fugitive. Oh, and then there's the target you put on your own back by associating with one Frank Castle. Surprisingly, you two have a lot in common.

Words: 4.1K

Series Masterlist | NEXT CHAPTER

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

For what it's worth, you don't know the man who’s pointing the gun at your face. It is difficult, in these circumstances, to convince yourself that this was somehow brought on by choices made in the past, even with the sophisticated talent you have for self-condemnation. He's not a disgruntled ex-boyfriend, or an unstable relative you sassed one too many times over Thanksgiving dinner. He isn’t one of your past mistakes. He's just some guy. 

He's aiming an M1911 somewhere below your clavicles and shouting words you've never been on the receiving end of, and in the time it takes him to do so, you're successful in finding one good thing about this whole experience: at least he isn't making one of your employees stare down the barrel, even if they have to watch you do it from a few feet away. Eliza and Ramón are adults, enrolled in the local college and with bills to pay, but to you they may as well be children. 

The man has a stutter you only notice when he calls you a bitch for the second time, deeming you too fucking slow in emptying the cash register into his bag. You wonder how he reached the conclusion that four hundred dollars would be worth the hassle. Who robs a bakery on a Saturday morning? People sleep in, especially in a small town. Or, most people do. The dark-haired man sitting all the way in the back with a half-eaten stack of pancakes looks wide awake. You don't know him either, but you don't think he's from around here. 

It's weird, in a way, that you aren't really thinking about what's happening in front of you. A bubble has fogged up your attention, and all that you remark upon is how the mellow 80’s playlist you picked out for today hasn't abruptly stopped playing. Thus, you'll always remember the current song as the soundtrack to your first time getting robbed. While you gather the bills from their slots in the register, it strikes you that you didn't have a song for other firsts in life. Not that there were that many worthy of background music. If anything, this feels fitting precisely because you couldn't have predicted which song would be playing when some asshole would pull his gun on you. What used to be lyrical perfection to you will likely ring a little apropos, from now until forever. You will, indeed, be waiting on a sunny day after this — many thanks to Bruce Springsteen for distracting you. 

"Are you deaf, bitch? Move it over. " 

The bubble evaporates. Yeah. Real grateful. 

You're going to do as he asks, because you are not alone. You won’t risk any lives, even if the Colt's safety has been on this entire time. You wonder if it's even his gun, by the way his hand curls around it clumsily. No real, hardened criminal would get so close when they have a ranged weapon, and maybe you’re right, but you won't take your chances. Speed in retrieving your own weapon is not the issue here — it's that if you do, you have to use it. You're not so sure it's the best course of action, even if the skin at your back itches against the warm metal nestled there. 

He's young. He didn't even bother covering his face, and the eye-watering lime green of his jacket is the very opposite of stealth wear. Maybe he's desperate, or maybe this is his first time too, though you don't think it'll be his last, especially since you've so far let it go smoothly for him.

You pause. This will give him the confidence to do it again some time, with someone else. Someone who isn't trying as hard as you to keep their impulses in check. Someone who doesn't have any urges at all, acting only on adrenaline and principles. 

You've always believed you weren't made out of the same things others were, and that's always proved true in the most unflattering ways. When you were followed home eight years ago and instead of freezing in fear, your body fought back until the skin barely clung to your stalker's face. When your first boss out of high school cornered you next to a dumpster to ask for a favor in return for the loan he'd given you, one that you'd already paid back, and he found himself short a couple of inches— terrible for him, because that was pretty much all he'd had. 

When Mark Davidson, a name you'd never forget, tricked your grandmother into signing away her house, and then his own turned to embers just two days later. It doesn't take you long to make a decision. It didn't take Mark very long to figure out the culprit behind his real estate mishap either, but only one of you walked away from the old quarry in that faded industrial town. 

There is, you realize, a choice being presented here. None of the other instances felt this ambiguous; either you fought, or you went along with an injustice and suffered for it. Plenty of people fight back out of a desire to protect themselves and their property, and plenty more do the exact opposite out of a desire to keep their lives. You aren't sure where you fit in this particular situation. The past has taught you time and again that you're part of the people who fight, but that has only ever resulted in a trail of smoke and no place to call home, because while fighting is one thing, not knowing when to stop is another.

“The fuck’s wrong with you?! I said move it over. ”

You didn’t have to do what you did. You could’ve stopped hitting when your stalker fell limp. You could’ve quit your job. Taken Mark to court instead of resorting to arson. Instead, you went with your instincts. You’re staring down the barrel again.

People catch on quickly in small towns, and having a reputation in the way that you used to is only good for warding off trouble. The bad people don't want to get close. But, neither do the nice ones. 

This is a nice town. Lively, warm. The people are bearable— even good, on occasion. Thoughts of your elderly neighbor are quick to surface, and the knowledge that Hazel expects you back home weighs heavily in favor of doing the very thing you're not used to doing. She'd be awfully disappointed if Sunday breakfast was canceled because you decided to give in to your worst impulses and fight like a rabid dog in the face of whatever provoked you. 

The man thrusts the gun even closer to your face with a slight tremor, a show of impatience. 

This is a good place to be. You never went back to industrial Auckney, and you don't want a repeat experience to follow you here like it followed you throughout the previous three towns where you tried to build a life. You don't want to have to leave. You don't want to make Hazel sad. So, you choose to let him go. You let it go. 

And just like that, you hand it over. There's no magical moment, no switch that flips. Making a decision that goes against your every instinct is a learning experience. You're not sure how suited you are to this new path. 

From there, things are quick to end. Once he's got a hold of the money, he backs out of the modest premises all wild-eyed, looking like he expects the cops to pull up at any moment. He's watched too much TV. Nobody even called them. A moment later, he takes off running down the street, green jacket like a neon sign against the stretch of asphalt. 

Breathe.  

Your rigid fingers unglue themselves from the counter's laminate surface and you finally turn your back, the gesture bordering on unnatural. As you do, your gaze settles on Eliza first. A nineteen year old girl with a frame that could be blown away by the wind is looking right through you, her fingers moving erratically against the blacked out touch screen of her phone. 

Five small steps bring you to her. You try to steady her shaking form while removing the phone from her hands. 

"Hey, it's okay. It's over, he's gone," you reassure her, but her breathing has picked up too quickly to go back down with just a few kind words. 

"Need to— I need to call the police. I—" 

Your hands find her shoulders as you hold eye contact and try to soothe her to the best of your ability. 

"You don't need to do anything other than breathe. I'll handle this. If you want to call someone, call a friend to come pick you up and drive you home. Ramón, you too. Take a few days off." 

The college junior throws you the strangest look you've seen in a while, but he too is shaken enough that he doesn't have the energy or the will to protest. 

"Come on. Go sit down for a bit. Both of you," you tell them, reaching under the counter for a bottle of water that you hand Ramón, silently gesturing towards the back room. A different environment would be good for wracked nerves. 

The two make their way towards the kitchen, and your eyes soften at the way Eliza has leaned into Ramón's embrace, quiet sniffles soon cut off by the stainless steel door. You aren't breathing quite right yourself, but you can live with it until things are settled. You can. You have to, because you aren't leaving this town. Not over some prick with shaky hands and horrible judgment. 

"Ma'am?" 

Instinct surges, and this time you can't force it back down. Fingers drawn to the Kimber's grip at your back, the movement feels almost liberating when you turn on your heel and lock target onto what startled you. Not that you'd ever admit it. You can't believe you didn't hear him coming until he was right there, staring at you with narrowed eyes. The dark-haired man in the back. Your only other witness. 

His hands go up in the universal gesture of surrender — or at least no harm intended — but it's too late. You've pulled a gun on a customer, and despite the fact that you kept your finger off the trigger, the damage is done. Lowering the weapon feels like a personal failure. You should've done this to the right person, less than three minutes ago. The man who's now in front of you has nothing to do with your misguided choice. 

But, he isn't leaving. Despite what you just did, he's looking at you in a way you can't decipher. Maybe he's one of those people who are hard to read, or easy to misread . Is it concern, or something else? On second thought, maybe you don't really care, unless he is a local and you've just tipped your hand in the long run. He certainly doesn’t look like the type of person to settle down in a place like this. If he’s just passing through, you can live with putting a gun in his face, as long as no one else saw you do it. 

"You alright?" 

The question surprises you, as does the way he asks it — genuinely enough, but the look he's pairing it with makes the hairs on the back of your neck rise. He's watching too closely. There's too much knowledge behind his eyes, and something within you stirs uncomfortably. You don't even try for innocent. Instead, you put the .45 back where it came from and sigh, looking as dejected as possible. It isn't hard to do. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't hear you. I'm a little jumpy after… all that." 

The man takes in your words quietly, a single nod his only response. 

"Hell of a quick draw, that." 

You blink in surprise. Answering the remark is tricky. Is it praise, or judgment? Both? What do you say to either? You can't let too much time pass before you answer, as that would be an answer in itself. You settle on hiding the truth in plain sight. 

"Probably wondering why I didn't do that earlier, huh?" you ask, a nervous huff coloring your words. You lean on the counter separating you from the man, painting yourself a version of fragile that you hope translates well to his watchful eyes. But, to your dismay, he shakes his head, scanning you even more closely than before. 

"Nah. You had kids in here. Couple bucks ain't worth dying for. You did the right thing." 

It's not what you want to hear. It's also not something you think he's entitled to say, as though he's some kind of authority figure. What makes him so sure this was the right thing to do? You don't think it was. The more time elapses between now and the robbery, the more regret pools in your chest. You're having a hard time with the follow-through part of your decision to let it go, and he is most definitely not helping. 

The vexation makes your jaw tighten and the corner of your mouth turn down just so, and the all-knowing eyes studying you take notice. The words spill out before your brain can catch the mistake. 

"I don't see a badge on you, mister." 

It only takes him a second to pick up on the scorn in your remark, but to your great annoyance, he doesn't seem offended. On the contrary, the smirk rising to the surface suggests sardonic amusement. It also paints his face with the kind of insufferable attractiveness you’ve always been agitated by. 

"Should be glad about that. A cop probably would've done something stupid. He'd have gotten someone shot, tryna be a hero." He speaks words you can't help but feel are directed more at you than a theoretical police officer. Yet again, you don't bite your tongue, speaking with the same stiffness in your jaw. 

"Maybe. Or maybe he'd have just shot him down before the guy could pull the safety back on his own gun." 

"So why didn't you?" he counters immediately, the low timbre of his voice almost making his words vibrate through you. 

You breathe in sharply through your nose. The challenge in his tone is more curiosity than genuine provocation, but it still doesn't sit well alongside your growing frustration. Another veiled truth finds its way past your lips as you hold his hardened gaze. 

"Like you said. Couple bucks ain't worth dying for." 

He considers your answer for a moment or two, and then it's as if something hidden from view pulls his features into a different scene. A softer look takes hold, and on a man of his size and projected disposition, it looks almost out of place. Almost. You're not sure if the sudden change means he knows you weren't talking about yourself. 

He shuffles on his feet imperceptibly — not a mark of discomfort so much as it is, you suspect, restlessness. He clears his throat once, and then his eyes are no longer on you. 

"You uh, gonna call the cops any time soon?"

At his question, your gaze follows his a few inches to the right, where Eliza's phone rests atop the counter. It's where you placed it intentionally, so that she'd forget about what she wanted to do. And from the way he asked, you wonder if he's onto you about that.

"I'll file a report later. No need for them to show up. Not like they're gonna catch him," you say dismissively, finally leaning away from the counter and straightening your posture. You put some distance between you and him by taking one step back, wordlessly signaling that you’re done talking and hoping he's astute enough to pick up on body language cues. The slightest pursing of his lips tells you he is. Conversation over. 

He lingers only one more moment before he offers a final nod in your direction, turning in a distinctly controlled way that reeks of military habit and walking off. Only, he stops just short of reaching the door, and his hesitation makes the tension in your jaw return. He doesn't fully look back at you as he speaks. 

"It'll give those kids peace of mind. You should call 'em." 

You hold back a scoff. 

"Are you familiar with the cops in this town?" you drawl, a twinge of sarcasm flowing off your tongue. 

"No, ma'am. Can't say I am." 

The half-smirk you can still glimpse pulling at his lips beckons you to wipe it off, but you manage to hold back. He's almost out the door, anyway. 

"Well, for the record… We'd be safer with a labrador for defense. At least it's got teeth."

"That right?" he grins as if you've tickled his funny bone. He doesn't seem to have all that stellar of an opinion about the police either, if his jab about the theoretical cop is anything to go by. He's still not looking at you, and you don't understand what the hell he's stalling for. Typically, anyone witnessing what he did a little while ago would be out the door the minute it was over. And yet, here he stands, after you pointed a gun at him. Still.

"Yeah, that's right," you confirm, hoping this is finally the end of the exchange. 

It sure seems that way for a short moment of blessed silence.

"Is that why you picked a Warrior?"

His eyes finally veer towards you, smile completely gone. The muscles in your back are suddenly taut once more, and your lungs fill with air they greedily keep for a few seconds longer than they ought to. You don't know what to say. You're not sure why he's bringing up the model of your firearm, like he isn't even bothered that you shoved it in his face earlier. Maybe he's not. Maybe he's a weirdo. Maybe you're trying to convince yourself he doesn't know exactly what you're thinking, despite all the evidence to the contrary.

A scowl fights for control of your features as your hands twitch by your sides. You're still high on anger and guilt and growing resentment for not doing what you were itching to do earlier. Right next to those feelings, the desire to preserve the image it's taken you four years to build is putting up its own fight, albeit much less valiantly. You just want to be alone with your thoughts. Just a moment where you don't have to pretend. You don't know how long you have before your employees return from the kitchen.

"I don't follow," is what you say instead of telling him to get the hell out already.

It's not the right thing to say, because he fixes you with an unimpressed look and takes a couple of steps back inside. You've never had your bullshit called this efficiently, let alone by someone who doesn't know you.

"They didn't name it that 'cause it's meant for defense . And that ain't no standard issue you got there. I'm just— Look,"

You can't resist the urge to make a fist when he closes the distance again, ending up right back where he started. The only thing separating you once more is the service counter, but with the way he's staring you down, it might as well not exist. He looks away briefly, like he isn't sure he's going to say whatever words are already forming on his lips.

"It's none of my business. I get that. But I know that look in your eye, 'cause I've seen it a hundred times before. So I'm just gonna lay it out, alright?" he says, not asking or waiting for permission. "You're gonna go home tonight, and you're gonna toss and turn and not sleep 'til dawn thinkin' about what happened here. And you're gonna want to even the scales, or whatever bullshit you're telling yourself right now. But I'm telling you not to. Once it starts, that shit never ends. It follows you everywhere. Every goddamn place you set foot in."

The gruff voice, steady and so determined it infiltrates some deep part of your mind, softens on the very end of the sentence that you have no doubt will be the thing you'll actually think about tonight.

It follows you everywhere.

You should've told him to fuck off ten minutes ago. If you had, you wouldn't be standing here, trembling in anger. Or, at least, not this type of anger. The air you forcibly breathe out does not ease the tension.

Whatever desire to hold back that was present before is overpowered in its entirety by one single element. One thing that could easily define your life up until this point, and probably in perpetuity: not knowing when to back the fuck down. If he wants to have a go, well, who are you to deny him?

"Getting awfully personal there for someone whose name I don't even know. Sure you're not projecting a tiny bit?" you incise, a pitying pout meant to yank his chain blooming on your lips.

"Is that why your finger's twitching?" he shoots back, gaze locked on to the left hand resting by your side, except for the consistent movement of one particular finger. You abruptly stop, but it's hard for knowing eyes to mistake a trigger itch for anything else.

He knows that you know that he knows what you're thinking.

"Look, mister," you begin, absent a polite tone. "Whatever you think I am or am not going to do, you're right: it is none of your business. But seeing as it's so important to you, let me give you some peace of mind ." Throwing his words back at him makes you feel better, like you're slowly gaining an upper hand in whatever battle this nonsensical exchange is.

Pausing, you lean a little closer to him unnecessarily, an air of defiance permeating the space between you. You're sure it's both him and you contributing to it. You bite the inside of your cheek briefly right before you open your mouth again.

The distinct squeak of the back door swinging open halts the flow of words before it even begins, and Eliza soon enters your peripheral vision. For one short moment, the interruption riles you up, but you realize that this is the best way to ensure he fucks off once and for all. Just focus on someone else. Anyone else. You're happy to avoid that unnerving stare for the rest of your life.

Your stand-off finally ends when the young woman reaches your side, and you break your gaze away from the man's in order to give Eliza your attention, as well as to clearly send the message he's been having trouble getting. You aren't interested in his lecture, or the way you can still feel his eyes on you for a few more seconds after you've looked away.

It's only as you talk to Eliza about having her mother pick her up that you finally hear the man's quiet sigh of defeat, though it sounds more frustrated than upset to your ears. Good.

Then, just when you think he's given up, a hand slaps against the counter with a crinkling sound, the familiarity of it leaving no room for interpretation. You're about to throw him a look and sass him about having already paid for his meal, but before you can, he's already started walking off.

Your lips purse as you watch him exit the building, gait once again reminiscent of military custom. It's self-assured yet stiff, and you're pretty convinced at this point that he must've served. Whatever. Some rando with a chip on his shoulder has no business getting a rise out of—

As you look back at Eliza, a cursory glance to the bills he laid down has your muscles tensing again, and you resist the urge to go out after him. It's not the four hundred-dollar notes that piss you off. How he knew the exact amount handed over in the robbery wasn't much of a surprise to you, what with how keenly he’d watched everything unfold.

It's the two singles laid out on top of the pile that really get under your skin, a simple message he went out of his way to send.

Couple bucks ain't worth dying for.

.

.

-to be continued-

A/N: I'm in my Frank Castle era so strap in folks. I love soft!Frank but we're going to be getting a lot of asshole!Frank in this one, which I argue has the potential to be even more delicious. We'll have fluff, smut and all the goodness of Frank and Reader antagonizing each other while being mad about each other. Chapter 2 is ready to post for Friday!

[lesamis]

hi, do you have any tips for living alone and romanticising your life? i am about to live on my own for the first time ever and i am excited and also a bit sad about it

oh, i totally get that feeling! i'm a person who really enjoys being alone and it still feels like kind of a bittersweet way to live sometimes. hopefully you'll settle into it easily and with some joy!

these are a couple things that have helped me, even if some are obvious:

ask people to send you mail - especially if you've just moved in. it makes such a difference to have something waiting in your mailbox when you come home to a space you're still getting used to. it reminds you that people are thinking of you, and you already belong.

this is possibly just me, but i feel unhappy in spaces if i don't "use" them enough (as in, if i've not cooked in my kitchen for a week, it feels less like "mine" and i get sad about it). in my mind feeling at home in a space is kind of like bonding with a person, it needs maintenance and intention. however you like to care for your space - organizing it neatly, cooking in it, decorating it, playing board games in it - do that with as many parts of it as you can.

find your niches - explore around where you live, find out what's close to you that you might find interesting or beautiful. it can be a café, a pretty tree, the post office, a walking route, but make a conscious effort to know your area. there's always something to love.

knowing your area includes knowing your neighbours! i'm socially pretty anxious so this hasn't always been easy but it's worth a lot to know there's someone else in the house who cares, knows your name, and can be relied on to lend you some salt, even if you do live alone.

keep necessities for guests, just in case. it can be a luxury for others to know they have a friend whose roommates don't need consideration if they want to visit or need to crash. i try to always have enough in the pantry to make a few meals for more people than myself, and i keep toothbrushes and my terrible air mattress and extra sheets and towels around. even if you don't host that often, it's good to know you could put up a friend at the drop of a hat.

have some little rituals! i pick up something from the bakery every sunday morning, and it kind of anchors me and gives me something to look forward to. having routines like this also settles you in community more easily: if you always take the same bus, you'll see a lot of the same commuters. if tuesday is your grocery day, you'll eventually know the guy on check-out for the tuesday shift. familiarity goes a long way to make you feel safe.

wishing you the best, anon; i promise there's a lot to be excited about :')

[ranposgirlboss]

~bsd comfort hcs~

this came about while i was cleaning dishes and scanning my check in from work LMAOAKSIUJSAHb (this is pretty much just a more elaborate ver of my other one)

can also be seen as romantic or platonic!!

charas: sigma, ranpo, poe, chuuya, and nikolai

genre: FLUFF!!!!!!! some mild hurt comfort <3

I ALSO STARTED THIS AFTER WORK SO IT MIGHT KINDA SUCK SINCE IM SO TIRED OMFG 😭 IM SORRY IF IT DOES ILL GIVE U A KISS IN RETURN

(it slowly goes more and more downhill)

LESSGOOO ₍₍ ◝(　^∀ ^ )◟ ⁾⁾

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

SIGMA

-SIGMAA (my crush on this man grows bigger by the day), so as i mentioned last time he would know when there's something wrong pretty quickly!!

-sigma would probably play a game of cards with you to distract you for a bit tbh (he will hesitantly agree to play uno AJHNMAKBHJS HIM PKAYING UNO WOULD BE SO FUNNY but anyways.)

-may or may not try to lose on purpose in an attempt to make you happier

-seems like a speed typa guy (that card game is so fun its the best one)

-after a bit and once youve calmed down, he'll ask what happened to you

-if you to choose to explain, he would probably gossip about it with you, or tell you its ok and you're doing great <33

-if you choose not to, he totally understands! he'll just keep on playing the card game with you, or yall could go do something else!!

-VERY GOOD COMFORT!!

RANPO

-lets all be honest with ourselves

-he isnt the BEST at comfort

-however, that doesnt necessarily mean that hes BAD at it

-he will take a bit to notice, as he is pretty absorbed in cases, eating snacks, and being a dense genius that cant tell peoples emotions that well!!

-but, you can always ask him to distract you for a bit if your emotions are very big

-hes very good at distracting you

-probably will say "stop staying cooped up inside!! >:(" and just grab you and take you to some bakery to eat sweets with him, to play video games with you!!

-since he gets that youre not in the best mood, hell try his best not to steal your food. keyword: best.

-playing games with ranpo is so fun don't even

-he probably wouldnt be the best at responding well if you ranted to him, would probably say that he's sorry but that's kinda the best he can do

-if you dont wanna talk about it, perfect!! ranpo is internally scared you might lash out at him due to his lack of actual response ಥ‿ಥ

-pretty good at comfort, mostly just turns to yall hanging out tho!!

POE

-im never gonna stop writing for him be prepared to see him in every hcs <33

-at first he wouldnt know what to do

-i mean, hes barely even had any FRIENDS to comfort.....sooooooooooooooo

-his version of comfort is like buying a mansion if you feel sad

-i mean thats somehow the ONLY conclusion

-"you dont feel sad anymore right y/n ( ꈍᴗꈍ)"

-I MEAN YOU CANT FEEL SAD WHEN YOURE SUPER SHOCKED SO IT KIND OF WORKS JUST....NOT THE WAY YOU EXPECTED

NIKOLAI

-THE SILLY.

-HE IS THE PRIME JOKESTER. HE WILL MAKE YOU LAUGH, NO MATTER WHAT IT TAKES.

-he just doesnt wanna see you sad, BUT HE DOESNT KNOW HOW TO ACTUALLY COMFORT PEOPLE

-so, he will make you laugh. to distract you from the problem.

-he very well knows that this wont help in the long run, but i mean, what is he gonna do?? learn how to ACTUALLY comfort you?? why would he do that when he can be silly instead????? (same)

-if you didnt laugh at his jokes, well, then he'll shock you out of sadness.

-will literally fucking teleport your whole body some place random. (use his silly ability, idfk what its called 😭)

-like im not fucking joking

-so laugh for your own sake

-OR YOURE GOING TO THE VOID!!!

CHUUYA

-i eat my manga chuuya'os everyday (get it??? because cheerios and chuuya, so if you combine the names you get chuuyios/chuuya'os. laugh.)

-hot take, I THINK HE WOULD BE REALLY GOOD AT COMFORT

-LIKE NO CAP

-he would probably just bluntly ask you what was wrong, and if you don't want to explain, that's alright.

-im not gonna shut up about him taking you on motorcycle rides.

-i never WILL >:(

[anulithots]

Nobara realizes that Itadori isn't really a hoodie guy.

And she cannot stand for that.

*intro music starts playing*

~JJK fashion show episode~

Nobara drags him and Megumi along for a shopping trip to find Itadori's sense of style.

(Technically Megumi and Itadori always join along with Nobara's shopping trips. Itadori goes along for fun of it + knick knacks + food and ends up having to carry all of Nobara's bags.

Megumi silently goes along, looks at a few things, shies away from attention as much as possible, before strolling through the pet store and buying nothing. Itadori often takes a break and joins Megumi for a little while before the trio meets up again.)

This time she had to drag along Itadori, and she told Megumi he had to help.

Insert an entire fashion montage. (If you know more about fashion than I do please let me know ideas)

Itadori eventually has to deal with his indeciveness, making a decision for himself....

... or he pretends to like whatever Nobara recommends after a lot of 'I don't see what's wrong with hoodies!' (depending on the trajectory I guess... if this is cannon compliant it would be this option.)

Nobara huffs. "Gojo picked your uniform, that's what's wrong! We're not letting that idiot chose your style." She pauses. "Chose something for yourself for once."

Itadori, not wanting to confront this, not minding others making decisions for him, never wanting to acknowledge his own decisions... or lack of them, randomly picks a hawaiian shirt.

Nobara scoffs. "That?!"

Itadori sighs. "I thought you said I could chose?"

"That...is actual garbage. Itadori, I will not be associated with actual garbage. Have some self-respect."

(Sukuna laughs, somewhere in the recesses.)

__________________

Megumi narrowly avoids getting a fashion show himself after buying a shoes to appease Nobara ('I'm using Gojo's credit card so we're all getting something! Even you Fushiguro!")

Itadori hides from Nobara with him. "She isn't satisfied with anything because 'I'm just going along with what she's saying'"

Fushiguro nods, looking at rabbit treats. "You did this to yourself."

Itadori wants to change the subject, almost asks Fushiguro why he comes to pet stores without buying anything....

Nobara bursts through the doors, and the store seems to darken with her entrance. Itadori yelps and tries to hide behind Fushiguro. Fusiguro is also trying to hide. A lot of hiding. None of it sucessful.

(Itadori isn't used to being on the receiving end of this. Usually him and Nobara tease Fusiguro together. He kind of hates this switch of dynamics.... He's supposed to help people. Not be helped.)

Nobara drags Itadori (and Fushiguro has to follow along because now people are staring.) back to the stores... where they bump into none other than:

"So my credit card didn't get stolen. Great news!"

(Gojo knew since the beginning and just came along now because he's having a rough - *cough* lonely and thinking about Suguru *cough* - day)

and from here......

I'd imagine that there would be another 'episode' where Gojo offers to help Nobara find the Bakery Saori liked (because he's the 'self-certified expert on sweets and sweet places').

Meanwhile Itadori and Fushiguro get to have some ~quality bonding time~ (I really really like Itadori and Fusiguro's morality dilemmas, so probably something about that... and maybe they get a bunny or smth. Just saying.)

Let me know if that's something you'd like to see and/or if you'd like me to write this in actual prose.

_________

hi! @mylee-sketches, @justrustandstardust, @bygeto. I'd like to know your thoughts/ideas for this rough sketch if possible, thanks <3 /not forced.