#Veggie has been arting again

[prettyfastcars]

dangerous, tainted, and flawed | Dark!Mob!Lando

Summary: You met your husband under disturbing circumstances a couple of years ago. Your home was under attack one night, by one of your family’s rivals, and Lando – one of your father’s allies – came to help. He found you in your bedroom that night, and managed to save you but unfortunately no one else in your family survived the attack. You were distraught after that night, having lost everything, but Lando took care of you. Eventually, you two fell in love, he proposed, and you got married. Your life has been perfect ever since. Sure, you missed your family but you thanked the gods everyday for Lando. However, you didn’t know the whole truth about that night, did you? 

Themes: dark!lando, explicit language, smut, fluff, mentions of death, loss, and violence, possessive!lando

“Baby?” He called out, “I’m home.” 

His voice echoed in the foyer. 

The house was so spacious that often you couldn’t hear him when he called out for you, and he knew that. That’s why instead of calling out again, he followed the sweet smelling scent and the soft music instead. Both came from the kitchen; the smell of warm muffins and a soft woman’s voice singing about chemtrails over a country club. 

Lando leaned against a wall quietly for a minute, smiling to himself as he watched you moving around in the high-ceilinged, farmhouse style kitchen. You didn’t know he was here yet. You were busy mumbling the lyrics of the song while chopping veggies, probably making dinner and baking muffins all at the same time. 

Cooking calmed you down, ‘It’s therapeutic’ you once told him. And he’d been married to you for not too long but he knew that this is what you did whenever you had a long day at work. You were a successful gallerist and often you had to deal with snobbish people, or ‘young money kids who had no true appreciation for art’ as you also told him. 

He let his eyes take you in. You were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, prettier than anything you’d ever exhibited he often told you, but the way you squirmed in embarrassment told him that you didn’t really believe it. That’s fine though, he’d spend a whole lifetime reminding you of that anyway. 

Once he was done ogling, that damn pale pink corset top of yours driving him insane as it was, he finally walked up to you and surprised you by wrapping his arms around you from behind. “There you are, baby,” He said, shoving his face into your neck and giving you as many kisses as he could. 

You giggled and tried to get away as he attacked your neck with kisses and soft bites but he tightened his grip around you. 

“Fuck, you smell so good.” He groaned, voice muffled now that he was nuzzling your neck like he always does. “I missed you so much.” 

“Lando,” You laughed, “I’m holding a knife!” You squealed, laughing and still trying to escape his ticklish kisses before any one gets hurt. “Okay you seriously need to shave, that stubble of yours hurts.” You managed to get him to stop. You placed the knife down and turned to face him as you leaned against the counter, caressing his cheeks as you cupped his face in your hands. “Too rough.” You commented, rubbing your fingers across his barely visible, but spiky stubble. 

He raised an eyebrow at you, his handsome face lighting up with mischief. “Is it?” He teased, “You weren’t complaining about it being too rough this morning.” He leaned in to whisper into your ear, purposely rubbing his cheek against yours, “Were you, baby?” 

Ah. This morning… 

You woke up feeling… funny. You opened your eyes and found that your husband wasn’t in his usual spot beside you on the bed. Instead he was busy down there, between your legs. You lifted the soft covers and found him looking up at you with nothing but desire and trouble in his eyes. 

You let out a soft moan when he held your stare while kissing your clit, and sucking on it before letting go. “Morning, baby.” He whispered, then got back to eating you out like he was starving. 

You threw the covers off and slid your fingers into his hair instead, “Lando…” You whined, the pleasure taking over you. “I’m gonna be late for work.” You mumbled, already feeling yourself getting to the edge. “I have clients waiting for me, you know? I have meetings, and…” You gasped, forgetting what the hell you were talking about in the first place once he began fucking you gently with his tongue. 

Damn his tongue and soft lips. 

Lando chuckled, a cocky look in his eyes when he pulled away and asked, “Meetings and what, baby?” 

“Don’t be a tease,” You groaned, shoving his mouth back to where you wanted him. He chuckled before working his tongue against your wet slit, his fingers slowly sliding in and out of you until you came with a soft cry. 

But he wasn’t done yet… 

Lando smirked as he looked at you, surely thinking back to this morning as well. 

You rolled your eyes at him. “You did get me late for work, you know?” You shook your head, turning back around to focus on the food that you were making. “Then there’s that anonymous collector,” You sighed. Lando wrapped his arms around you from behind again, placing his chin on your shoulder and gently swaying you side to side as you ranted a little bit. “I don’t mind them, whoever they are,” You said, “I do sell them a lot of stuff but why can’t they just show their face? It’s weird, you know, having a client without a face.” You sighed, “And then a really important meeting got cancelled. And one of the artists’ whose work is about to be exhibited soon is being a real brat.” 

Lando hummed, occasionally kissing your neck and shoulder as you complained a little more. “I’m sorry you had a tough day, baby.” He mumbled, kissing around your ear, “Want me to handle this collector for you? Or the artist?” 

You chuckled, knowing the nature of your husband’s work and his temper, “No. Please don’t.” You added, “I love my work, it’s just a bad day, that’s it.” 

“Okay,” He kissed along your exposed shoulder, “Then how about a bath? You want that? Or how about some wine?”  

You leaned into touch, “Bath for later,” You said, “The wine for now, please.” 

“Yes, my lady,” Lando let go of you with one final kiss on the side of your head.

You watched him as he left the kitchen. He took his suit jacket off and rolled the sleeves of his white shirt up to his elbows. Then before he turned to head to the wine cellar, he gave you a wink, acknowledging that he gave you a little strip show. You shook your head at him. 

Once alone in the kitchen, you smiled to yourself as you thought about how far you and Lando had come in just a few years. 

Your smile faded into a sad one as you thought about the day, or night rather, you first met him. 

The sounds of gunshots and screams woke you up. You couldn’t hear anything but the chaos outside your bedroom. Bullets, screams, orders being shouted, furniture being wrecked, glass being broken, more screams… all of it muffled as you ran into your walk-in closet and hid in the dark. 

You couldn’t stop the silent tears from streaming down your face. You knew what this meant. It was an ambush. And you also knew that a few hours ago might have been the last time you saw your family. You just hoped they made it out alive. But no one was barging into your room yet… this meant that the fight was happening downstairs. 

You cried some more as you heard more yelling, more gunshots. 

This life, this family you were born into came with situations like this. Your father told you this since you were a child. He was well-known amongst gang leaders and mob bosses, which meant he had more enemies than friends. Sometimes those two were the same people. But your father had kept you hidden for most of your life, away from all this. 

The only reason you were even home tonight was because it was your birthday. You’d begged your father to let you celebrate it at home with everyone… 

You didn’t remember passing out in that closet. You didn’t know what happened or how you were found, just that you were. And when you woke up, you were face to face with a handsome young man with pretty eyes who reassured you that you were safe. 

He said he and his family were friends of your father’s. And that he was sorry but you were the only survivor of that attack. Your family was gone, your house was gone. All was gone. 

The year which followed was the hardest of your life. Grieving, dealing with so many losses, moving on with a heavy heart, getting the help you needed, finally learning how to stand on your own feet again… you couldn’t have done it without Lando. 

He was your rock. Always there when you needed to cry, to share a laugh, to make silly jokes, on days when you wanted to spend hours in bed, on nights when you had nightmares, on days when you felt light and happy, on days when your heart broke all over again, on days when it felt like you were finally healing, he was always there. 

He was a busy man, but he made time for you. 

Falling in love with him was easy. The easiest thing you’d ever done. So when time came, and he got on one knee and asked you to marry him, saying yes was the easiest thing you’d ever done. You knew you were both young, but he was it for you. 

Becoming his wife felt like a dream. Like you were a real princess marrying her knight in shining armour, the one who saved her from every bad thing and promised to protect her fiercely forever. Except your knight wasn’t altruistic, he didn’t come on a white horse and with a sword. Yours was dangerous, tainted and flawed. He came with power, money, guns, and expensive cars. 

“It better be thoughts of me that you’re lost in and not that anonymous collector,” His voice brought you back to the present. “Otherwise I might have to hunt them down and make them disappear forever.” Lando joked as he handed you a glass of your favourite red. 

You leaned against the counter, facing him as you took a long sip. Then you said, “I was thinking about you actually.” 

That cheered him up immediately. “Yeah? Do tell then.” 

You smiled faintly. “Just thinking about how lucky I am that I have you.” You avoided his eyes after. You always did whenever you felt slightly emotional. You always tried to seem stronger than you felt in the moment. 

Lando placed his glass down and came over to wrap you in his arms immediately. Somehow, he always knew when you needed a hug. You wrapped your arms around him and let out a sigh, your heart already feeling lighter just by being in his arms. 

“I’ve got you, baby. Don’t worry.” Lando said softly, his familiar scent already making you feel better. “You’re safe here, with me.” He reassured you. Lando knew you still had a fear somewhere, about being attacked like that night. But he often also reminded you that he was the most powerful man in this city, and no harm was coming your way as long as he lived. 

He often wondered whether you realised how lucky he felt that you were his. That night, when he found you passed out on the floor in the walk-in closet, something in him shifted. He knew he had to keep you safe, always. 

“Thank you,” You murmured against his white shirt. 

Lando pulled away to look down into your eyes. Fuck, he hated it when you cried. It felt like he was being torn apart. He quickly wiped that one tear which barely escaped your eyes and said, “You never have to thank me for taking care of you.” He said with a slight frown. 

“I know,” You whispered and pulled him in for a kiss. A slow, gentle kiss that quickly turned into a heated, passionate one. His hands grabbed you by the hips and pulled you into him, so you could feel the very prominent bulge in his pants. 

It made you whimper just feeling it. “Fuck,” You mumbled against his lips, “Will I ever stop wanting you like this?” Your shaky hands reached down to undo his belt, then just as you reached for his zipper, your stomach grumbled so loudly you were sure all the guards outside could hear it too. 

You both froze at the sound of it, then burst out laughing. Lando threw his head back and laughed so carefreely that you fell a little bit more in love with him at that moment. You didn’t think that was possible, but here you were. 

“I would love to bend you over the counter right here baby,” He chuckled, “but I feel like we need to get some food in you.” He said, kissing your cheek and pulling away to look at you as you tried to hide your face in embarrassment. “Hey, look at me.” He grabbed you by the chin and lifted your head up. “Let’s eat, and I’ll fuck you later. Okay? I promise.” 

You gave him a shy smile, “Okay.” 

—

After a light dinner filled with more laughter and easy conversations, Lando helped you with storing away the cooled off muffins before the two of you finally got into that bath, with another bottle of wine. 

You carefully poured some more wine into your glass before leaning back into Lando’s chest. You sighed again, settling against him. This was your happy place. Scented candles, dimmed lights, warm bath, wine, and of course, the love of your life. 

But then as always, Lando could never keep his hands to himself. It always starts out with innocent touches, along your arm, kissed on your shoulders… then he gets more and more demanding. His fingers caressed your inner thighs until you were squirming against him, his kisses turned into playful bites making you whine and whimper. 

“You never behave.” You mumbled teasingly, closing your eyes and letting him caress and touch you however he wanted. 

“How can I?” He whispered against your neck, “You’re too beautiful to resist.” 

You let out a soft moan when his finger carefully slid inside you. You whispered, breathlessly, “Remember we flooded the bathroom the last time?” 

Lando groaned, pulling his hand away. “Fine, fine. I’ll behave.” He let out a sigh as though you’d asked him to give up breathing. 

You chuckled at his dramatics. 

The two of you ended up staying, soaking until the water got cold. Then went about your respective night time routines before finally getting in bed. Right as you lifted the covers up to get in, Lando grabbed you by the arm and pulled you into him. 

“Ah! Don’t even think about it. We both know you’re gonna start snoring the moment your head hits those pillows.” He pushed you down on top of the covers and tickled you until you were breathless, your satin robe coming undone in the process and exposing your naked body underneath. “Plus, I promised you something before your belly began braying, didn’t I?” 

You shoved him playfully, arguing, “It didn’t bray!” 

Lando pinned your wrists above your head and leaned in for a quick kiss. “Pretty sure the guards will ask me if we brought in a pet donkey tomorrow morning.” 

“Lando!” You laughed, trying to get out of his grasp but he was stronger than he looked. 

He ended up shutting you up with a kiss, his bare chest pressing down against yours. His skin was damp, the chains around his neck were cold, he smelled incredible. He was all you wanted. So you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer. 

He moaned into the kiss when you arched your back, pressing up against him. When he pulled away to look down at you, his stare was fiery, his pretty eyes filled with lust. 

“I love you, you know that right?” He asked. You noticed he often did. 

You nodded quickly. “I know.” You smiled up at him, “And I love you.” 

He smiled before leaning in for a quick kiss before his mouth slowly moved down your body. Kissing along your neck, biting your breasts, kissing down your stomach, your hips, your thighs. 

You lifted your upper body up onto your elbows and met his intense stare. His pretty eyes really were your weakness. Your safe place. Your comfort. Perhaps because when you woke up after that traumatic night years ago, those eyes were the first thing you saw. They’d been your favourite thing since. 

Lando held your stare as he spread your legs further apart, settling in between them. 

He pressed his lips to your inner thigh, his mouth getting closer and closer to your core, you tipped your head back, sighing quietly as you felt his breath against you. You couldn’t help but slide your fingers into his soft, slightly damp hair.

“You’re all mine.” He whispered, his tongue slowly circled your throbbing clit, parting your wet folds with ease. His shoulders parted your legs further apart as he leaned closer. He slowly brought a finger up to your clit, sliding it agonisingly slowly down your slit, parting your wet folds again. 

You trembled under his touch. “All yours,” You sighed in bliss as he slid a finger inside you, stroking your walls gently while he placed his mouth back on your clit.

“Does my face feel too rough now, baby?” He asked. And chuckled proudly when you were only able to moan in response. 

“No…” You gasped, breathless and wanting more even as he teased your clit and finger-fucked you gently. That damn stubble of his rubbed against your poor inner thighs over and over again but you moaned in pleasure despite it all. 

You squirmed and moaned and gasped under his perfect touch. He knew you and your body too well by now, and soon, you were coming undone all over his tongue, your walls clenching violently around his finger. Your fingers scratched his scalp as you tugged harder on his hair as you came.

You were still catching your breath as Lando left small kisses up your body before he hovered above you again, staring deep into your eyes. 

“Please…” You begged, wrapping your legs around his waist again. “I need you in me.” 

Lando gave you a cocky smile before kissing you once again, the taste of you on his tongue still. You didn’t mind the roughness of his stubble this time, but you growled into the kiss because you were impatient and all he did was kiss you over and over again. 

“Impatient, are we?” Lando chuckled at your little growl, not breaking the kiss as he slowly slipped inside of you, groaning into the kiss as he went.

You gasped as he filled you up, all of him stretching you out and fitting nicely inside you. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth as he moved his hips the slightest bit, making you whine at the feeling of his cock slowly moving in and out of you. 

“Fuck baby, you feel so good…” He groaned, his grip on your body tightens, possibly leaving bruises on your hips and thighs but you didn’t care. 

You would never get bored of this you realised. Of him, his touch, his warmth, his kisses… you were so glad he was yours. 

You could feel your walls clenching around him as he sped up and pounded into you, to a point where the only thing you could focus on was the feeling of him moving against your body. Nothing else in the world mattered. Your long day at work was forgotten, nothing else existed. Just you and him. 

“So fucking good…” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly, as he bent down to bite your lower lip. 

You moaned at how perfect his lean and muscular body felt against yours. Your legs trembled as you wrapped them tighter around his waist. His thrusts were relentless and unbearably good. You closed your eyes as you felt the pressure around your lower body; tight and hot.

Lando smirked, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust in. “Look at you, baby,” He whispered, “It’s like you were made just for me.” The possessiveness in his voice only made you clench around him again. 

You were unable to say anything because of how good he felt sliding in and out of you. The familiar pressure formed at your core and you whined again when his fingers found your clit while he pounded into you mercilessly.

“Come for me…” he whispered and that was all you needed to hear before you came undone all around him again. Whimpering and back arching off the bed as you came hard around his cock.

He kept pounding into you as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him violently. Your body trembling under his intense gaze. He watched you in awe, lips parted, breaths in rags, heart racing. 

He almost came as well. But then he slowed down, pulled out and stopped for a moment. He caught his breath, and held back from coming no matter how much he wanted to. He needed to make you come again, he needed to hear you moan for him again. 

“Turn around for me, baby,” He spoke, caressing your thigh as you struggled to sit up. “Come on,” He urged, “Face down, ass up. Come on, baby.” 

You did as he asked, your hips and ass up while your face was pressed against the bed. You were still catching your breath when his hand reached around and touched you in between your legs, his fingers rubbed around your clit and made you tremble and moan given how sensitive you were. 

His body bent over yours, his warm, damp chest pressing against your back as he kissed your shoulder and the back of your neck until his mouth reached your ear, “I know you’re tired, my love,” He whispered, kissing the side of your face while you caught your breath, “But I need you to come for me again. Can you do that for me, baby?” 

You nodded slowly. Lando hummed in satisfaction as he kissed along your shoulder before gripping each side of your hips, and pushing into you from behind. 

Your body was sensitive from earlier, so you whined and whimpered as he filled you up again. Your fingers gripped the covers beneath you tightly, and your mind was foggy, everything was floaty as he pounded into you. 

You reached your high quicker this time, moaning his name and coming undone just a couple of minutes later. 

You felt his thrusts becoming irregular, faster, his cock throb against your walls violently. He groaned and growled as he came, his body wrapping around you from behind. You both fell on your sides, catching your breaths and calming your hearts down. 

“You okay, pretty girl?” He asked, spooning you from behind. 

You could only nod as he kissed you on the back of your neck. 

“You did so good for me, baby.” He murmured, “Now let’s get in bed, yeah?” 

You were pretty much limp after that. So Lando cleaned you up, then himself and then got the bed ready while you just laid there with a smile on your face watching him. He ended up having to tuck you in as well, since you refused to move. 

Lando playfully groaned, “I spoil you too much.” He said, getting on his side of the bed before pulling you close to cuddle under the covers. “People warned me against spoiling my wife too much.” 

You were already half asleep at this point. Damn it, he was right about you falling asleep the moment your head hits the pillows. But still you murmured, more like slurred, “Didn’t they also tell you to shave else your wife will have burns on her inner thighs?” 

Lando chuckled, rubbing his cheek against yours purposely again, “Okay fine, I’ll shave tomorrow. Happy?” 

“Hmm,” You mumbled, already drifting off to sleep. Safe in his arms as you’ll always be. “You better,” Lando chuckled at how you desperately tried to stay awake. “Otherwise I’m gonna run away.” 

With that you were gone. Your breathing changed so Lando knew you were surely asleep. Soon you’ll start snoring softly. He leaned down and kissed your forehead. 

“Silly baby,” He whispered as he adjusted the covers so you were properly warm. “You can’t run away from me,” He whispered against your forehead as he cuddled you, wrapping his arms tighter around you. “There’s a tracking implant in your arm.” 

Then he let out a soft chuckle. “Of course, you don’t know that, do you?” He cooed, “Hmm, baby?” He kissed your forehead again. “There’s so much you don’t know.” He caressed your cheek as you began snoring softly just as he expected. 

He had always found it adorable. He continued whispering to you, knowing you couldn’t hear him. “There’s so much I have to keep from you. I hate lying to you, but it’s for your own good, baby.” 

He kept caressing your face as he spoke to himself, “Like how you mistook me for your saviour that night.” He sighed then admitted, “I was the one who attacked your father’s house. I was the rival. Then I had my men search the house after everyone was dead, and they found you unconscious and brought you to me.” He let out another sigh, pulling you closer. “You were so beautiful, baby. Even with dried up tears on your face. You were the prettiest thing I’d ever seen. And I vowed to never make you cry after that night. It was the last time, I promise.” 

He paused. Then continued, “Your dad was such a pain in my ass, baby. I’m sorry I killed him. I’m sorry I killed all of them. I’m sorry I never told you the truth. How could I? You would hate me forever.” He placed a kiss on your nose, “But look,” He murmured, “All that shit brought you to me. And aren’t we happy together?” 

He let out another chuckle and said, “Wanna know another secret, pretty girl? I’m your anonymous collector. I have a warehouse full of the pieces you exhibit.” He confessed in the darkness and the silence. “I mean, what kind of a husband would I be if I don’t support my wife’s career, huh? Everything I do is to make you happy.” He leaned in to kiss your forehead again. “I love you so much, baby. It drives me insane.” Then he chuckled and added as an inside joke to himself, “Or maybe it did drive me insane already.”

[hunnylagoon]

Right Where You Left Me

Pt 4: The Sweetest Thing to Ever Scare You (Finale)

Ellie Williams x reader

I remember when I first saw you. I remember looking into your warm almond eyes and feeling butterflies in my stomach. But soon, when I looked into your eyes, I no longer felt the same warmth that I once knew. It felt as though you had killed all of the butterflies inside my stomach but yet, I still loved you.

Premise: You and Ellie are childhood best friends until you drift apart. Funny thing about soulmates is they tend to find their way back to each other. You and Ellie try to end the tireless war between you.

Warnings: Angst / drinking / violence / not really religious mentions in this one

Part one here!

Part two here!

Part three over here!

Guys I thought I posted this two days ago but I actually just saved it to drafts. Sorry for being an idiot lmao

I think that I have unlearned how to love.

That’s not even a word but there is no other way to tell you that I have turned myself cold.

Without partying to distract me and religion to fill in gaps of emptiness, I isolate myself and begin to write once again. I'm almost certain that my body has been telling me to write, that I need to pour myself into art as opposed to a girl I was friends with a million years ago.

I figure that I need to create rather than destroy but it might take me a while to do so.

The morning after I abandoned my faith on the church floor, I had woken up and expected Ellie to be gone, however, she was wide awake and playing subway surfers on her phone. Her hair is messy and her eyes are half-lidded. 

She turns to look at me when she feels the shuffling of the bedsheets; despite her doing nothing more than smile at me it is like an understanding passed between us, war is over.

Almost.

It's like I've forgotten how to be soft, I can't manage to get the words out that I need to, and the thought of it alone makes me cringe. "Breakfast?" I ask, unsure of what else to say.

Ellie passes on it and I awkwardly excuse myself, saying that I got called in to take a brunch shift at work. Of course, this is not true. What I do is get into my car and drive and drive until I get mad at myself for burning gas. 

The war between Ellie and I had ended but it didn't register in my head, I almost fell in love with it. Without the constant arguing and passive aggressiveness, there was nothing to put a wall between us and I wasn't ready to be vulnerable again. 

So I begin to feed Ellie the ugliest parts of me; I show her everything I'm sure she will hate but she doesn't, she's patient and shows me the kindness I have been looking everywhere for. Still, I am cold to her, I don't know what else to do. 

I try to push her away all over again but this time, she doesn't let me. Ellie comes into my room when I'm studying to sit on my bed so that she can be in proximity to me. Sometimes she'll ask me if I want to go for a walk or a late-night gas station run, all of the things we used to do.

When I'm angry at her, she lets it happen, she won't escalate the fight all she does is apologize and does what she can to fix it. Everything feels like it's in order again, Joel even starts to send me little text messages to check in on me and sends me Facebook memes that make him think of me.

As of now, we are setting up for Dina's twenty-first birthday. The living room, typically a space for casual gatherings and movie nights, had undergone a transformation. Vibrant streamers adorned the walls, and an array of balloons in assorted hues scattered themselves along the floor "Are balloons too childish?" Abby asks as she walks out of her bedroom.

"They better not be after I just spent half an hour doing all of these," Cat answers, giving her a scornful glare.

"They look great, Cat," I smile and give her a thumbs-up from where I am in the kitchen dumping bags of chips into bowls. "Should I make a veggie platter?"

Cat furrows her eyebrows "If you can finish it by yourself, sure."

"Cat, we aren't children, adults eat vegetables," Abby takes a seat on the couch behind Cat, investigating the hard work she's put into making the living room look nice for just one night "Isn't it weird that Dina is organizing her own surprise party?"

I shrug, placing a wooden cutting board down on the kitchen counter "I don't blame her, I don't think we've always been one hundred percent reliable, me specifically."

"But it's not a surprise if she knows about it."

"So?" Cat asks.

"So why are we calling it a surprise party if it isn't a surprise?"

"Why not?"

"Well, why can't we just call it a party?"

"I don't think it matters," I cut in, I begin to peel carrots and slice them up into quarters. Ellie comes out of her bedroom, she took a nap after completing her physics presentation, her hair in a messy bun, and she's in her typical pyjama uniform of sweats and a hoodie. "Hey, Ellie," I smile at her.

She rubs some sleep away from her green eyes "Hey," Ellie walks over to the kitchen island where I slice and chop vegetables and sits right in front of me. Even half asleep she looks like a statue of marble carved by a skilled hand.

Abby raises an eyebrow, asking 'When did you guys become friends?' without saying it and then it hits me like the plane in Lost. Ellie still hasn't told anyone about our history, our sixteen years of friendship is invisible to the eyes of those who think they know us well.

I'm broken from my thoughts when Abby speaks up "When are you picking up the cake?"

My heart drops "I'm not?"

Cat and Abby cast one another side glances while Ellie snatches a cucumber off my cutting board "Dina was handing out duties and you said you would take care of the cake."

I freeze, unsure of what to say "Nuh-uh." I shake my head like a child denying blame for breaking her mother's favourite dish.

"Yuh-huh," Cat shoots back. "How could you forget that?"

My mind fumbles for an excuse and somehow I land on "I forgot because I went temporarily insane from Lyme disease," What am I saying? "I got Lyme disease because I go camping in secret," I don't camp "And I never told you guys that I go camping because I'm deeply ashamed of it."

Now everyone looks perpetually confused, Ellie included "What are you talking about?" Abby asks, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Okay-well," I place my knife flat on the counter by the wooden cutting board, ignoring the odd spiel I just went on "I'm going to drive to-

"You dropped your car off for a suspension repair yesterday," Abby reminds me.

"Ellie is going to drive me to get a cake," I correct myself "I will be back to finish making my veggie plate." I quickly rinse my hands before grabbing Ellie's keys from the little jewelry dish on the island and yank the sleeve of her hoodie to pull her along.

Ellie doesn't say anything, she slips into some Crocs and we walk outside to her car. "Where are we headed?"

"Uh, hang on," In Ellie's passenger seat, I go on Google Maps to look up the closest bakeries that are still open at this hour, there are two, one a couple of streets away and the other one is across town and closing in twenty minutes. "Infectious Confections," I wrinkle my nose "That's a weird fucking name."

While Ellie tries to make conversation in the car I only speak when giving her directions to the bakery. She knows something is up and I can tell by the way she keeps glancing at me. I just can't manage to get it out of my head that she's still keeping me a secret. 

She pulls up to the bakery and I get out before she even turns her car off, she pulls the keys out of the ignition and trails behind me through the doors.

The bakery itself was rustic and clean, there were two display cases and tills one of the displays held danishes, croissants, cookies, scones and whatever those little swirly flakey things are called. The other display had a big chalk menu above it that read 'Cakery' Though what was in the display case was very sparse.  

"Hi," I walk up to the till, putting on the friendly smile and customer service voice that I usually only use at work. "This is pretty short notice but I was wondering if you had any cakes left or if I could get one made for today?"

The guy behind the counter is a scrawny teenager who looks like he has had a long enough day of dealing with annoying customers "We close in half an hour, there's not enough time to bake and decorate a cake." He explains it like he's said this to a million people, he's bored of the same phrases that his manager has scripted out for him.

"Any shot that someone didn't pick up their cake?" I ask, fingers crossed in the hope that he says yes.

"Let me talk to my manager," His voice drags on, and he turns around and disappears through a commercial kitchen door. I wait patiently, hands balled together in front of me as I rock back and forth on my heels. A minute or two later he comes back holding a bright blue cake with pink detailing of bows and mustaches, there's text on it that reads 'It's a...' gender reveal cake. "This is all we have left, they cancelled last minute.

I look back at Ellie to get her opinion, her eyebrows are furrowed slightly "Maybe we good just get some of those cupcakes and smush them together and smear the icing so it looks like a cake."

I wave her off "I'll buy it," I say this only because it is 5:41 and with each passing minute I am growing desperate, also I don't want Jesse to be disappointed that I fumbled the cake and ruined his girlfriend's birthday.

Angsty teenager puts the bright blue monstrosity into a cake box and charges me an absurd total for it, I bitterly tap my card on the machine. 

As I walk back out to Ellie's car I take a brief moment to look at the sky, it's the same hue as cotton candy and looks as if it had been projected from a watercolour painting, even after I get back into the car and Ellie begins to blast her old dad rock songs, I can't tear my eyes away from it.

After five minutes of silence from my end, Ellie finally asks the question that's been burning into the forefront of her brain "Why are you being weird?"

"Why haven't you told anyone that we met before we moved in together?"

Her dark eyebrows furrow "You haven't told anyone either-

"Yes, I have."

"Who?"

"Yara, Stacy, Kayla, Mitch, Nigel, Carmen, literally everyone from my work," I admit "I just haven't told people who know you personally so it can't make its way back to you because you clearly don't want people to know."

She falls silent, searching her mind for the right words. She clutches the steering wheel tight and looks dead ahead at the car's bumper-to-bumper ahead of us. "I just know how to slip it into conversation."

"I don't think it's that hard, you can just say that we were friends, you don't need to give an intricate play-by-play of everything that happened."

"Why is it important that people know if we're cool again?"

I turn my head to slowly look at her "You are the one who always said 'If we don't have honesty, we have nothing at all'," I point out.

Silence strings between us again, I almost want to throw up.

'We're cool again' Nope, not anymore, we are so very far from cool. Instead of Ellie casting me little glances as she had on the ride there, she ignores my presence almost completely while I glare daggers at her. Was she embarrassed by me? When we went to lunch together why did she lie to Dina about where she was? When she slept in my bed why did Cat ask me if I knew why Ellie came home at eight AM with nothing, not even a key? Did she crawl through my bedroom window to walk around to the front door and pretend she was just getting home?

AND WHY DIDN'T I CALL HER OUT?

She was keeping me a secret and that realization hurt worse than any injury I had ever suffered. She hasn't even told her dead who practically raised me that we lived together. 

God, we weren't even anything and she was keeping me under wraps like I was some disgraceful secret that she would get shamed for holding. The very second she approached our house, I got out of her car, she hadn't even stopped it completely but cake in hand, I hopped out of her car door and didn't look back.

I think I've had my fair share of partying.

After that month-long bender I had where I went to clubs every night and replaced food with vodka, I never wanted to even look at another solo cup full of liquor. Instead of drinking, smoking, or doing karaoke, I hide from Ellie.

I hide from her in conversations and sometimes sneak into my bedroom just to get a bit of breathing room from all of the strangers in my house. Wherever Ellie was, I was not. If she was outside, I was inside, if she was in the living room, I was in the kitchen enjoying my veggie platter. 

Have you ever been the only sober person around in a group of people? If the answer is no, have you ever babysat a houseful of toddlers? Because it's just about the same thing.

When I'm not hiding from the girl who wriggled her way back into my good graces just to trip herself off the podium, I'm cleaning up, protecting our furniture, holding back hair as girls I've never met sob into the toilet, and stopping the drunk from doing stupid things. 

"Hey, buddy," I take my can of hairspray that this frat-adjacent man is holding behind an ignited lighter "I don't think you would look good as a burn victim," His friends moan in disappointment as I do so, they were very excited to see a makeshift flamethrower; I wasn't in the mood to have my house burn down, or have a guy with peach fuzz waste my thirty dollar hair spray. 

Thirty dollars?

Note to self for later: Make smarter spending choices (And smarter relationship choices!).

I felt a tap on my shoulder only to turn around and see Dina, she wasn't drunk, just tipsy "Smile!" She holds up a camera to her eye and clicks the shudder button before I even have a chance to react the flash goes off. A large Polaroid begins to print out, Dina snatches it and shakes it until you can see my silhouette, my eyes are wide, my hair flying behind me from the quick turn of my head and I'm holding a can of hairspray angled to look like I'm going to spray the camera with it "Cute!" She smiles, tucking it into her pocket for later "Wait, I want a group picture of the roommates."

Dina takes my hand and pulls me to one of the couches where Ellie and Abby sit with some guy, she shoes him to get up and drags Cat over to replace him, she stands me in between Ellie and Abby and lightly pushes me down to sit wedged between the two.

"Jesse, please do not do me dirty with this picture," She hands the pink Polaroid camera to her boyfriend and quickly ushers herself to the far left of the couch where she bends over to kiss Cat on the cheek for the picture. Ellie and I are stiff and awkward when the flash goes off. 

After the picture is taken, Ellue turns to face me just the slightest "Hey, I think we should talk-

"I think it's time for cake!" I push myself off the couch and usher myself to the kitchen. 

I pull the cake out of the fridge, looking at what I had done to salvage it; Below the part that said 'It's a...' I wrote '21 year old!' in chocolate pre-made Betty Crocker icing that I had in the fridge for months, it didn't look the best, but it could've been worse.

Dina, of course, cackles when she sees it. To her, it is the funniest thing she's seen all night. I stick the candles in and light it with the light I confiscated from peach fuzz frat boy and push the cake towards Dina after tucking the light back into my pocket, she is illuminated in the glow of iPhone flash all filming her.

"Make a wish!"

Age Sixteen- Grade 11

I think back to how embarrassing it felt to be thoughtful.

How fragile I felt when I would share my feelings and how frail I seem when I do it now. Ellie was always tougher than I was, in rugby, in fights, just in general. That's why I figured she would be taking it better than me when I cut contact, once again I have been proven wrong.

"Conner, can we please just leave?" I pleaded with my then-boyfriend. The night had started fine but after a couple of drinks Ellie and I were becoming increasingly hostile to one another, it wasn't my intention to speak to her but the universe forced my hand when we were shoved into a circle of our friends and made to converse around the bonfire at the beach.

The salty breeze carried the sounds of laughter and the gentle crashing of waves, the scent of roasted marshmallows wafted through the air.

 "What, you need your boyfriend's permission or something?" Ellie held a can of berry blast Smirnoff, staring into my soul from the other side of the fire, the sparks glitter through the night like fireflies. Her words don't feel too bad but they don't feel too good either.

I cast her a glare before I looked back to my boyfriend "Please?" 

He is getting perpetually annoyed with me he shrugs away from my grasp, "Fuck off, we just got here," He mutters, Conner must think I couldn't hear it. He had already downed three Bud lights and a couple of shots of cheap vodka, now he is nursing another beer in hand. 

"Excuse me?" I say, narrowing my eyes. Everyone around the fire pauses their conversation to tune into mine. "Come on," I stand up and try to pull him along so we can have a conversation away from the prying eyes of our friends.

I can't pull the mass of the 6'2 quarterback along with me but he obliges and follows me where I yank him. As I drag him along the rest of the group giggle and makes jokes along the lines of 'Trouble in paradise' but Ellie is the only one who doesn't jump back into mindless conversation, her unnerving eyes are still on me while I chew my boyfriend out by the shoreline. 

"Why do I have to leave just because you're feeling a little bummed out?" 

I'm almost floored at out someone can lack so much empathy "Because you're my boyfriend?" I can feel myself tensing up.

"Why does that mean you can't get up and leave on your own?" He defends "You begged me to come here and now I just wanna down a couple of beers and hang out with my friends."

"You've already drank like twenty!" I retort.

"It's a fucking party!" Conner says, raising his voice "It's a party and it's summer and you're seriously trying to tell me not to have fun?"

"Fuck!" I shout in frustration "Why don't you ever call me? Why can't you ever let me in?" The argument is quickly escalating "Why didn't you tell me that you kissed Tamar and why haven't you told me that you love me?"

"Because I don't."

My words fail me. I knew he didn't, I knew that he hardly even liked me. My dad had thought so highly of him, she said he was the type of guy to rescue a baby from a burning building but as I look at him now, I figure that he eats babies.

I almost open my mouth to say something different, almost, but I don't. The rest of my life might have turned out differently if I didn't, I might've been able to salvage the rotting corpse of my relationship with Ellie but I didn't. "Fine," I say, voice calm and quiet "Let's stay."

Before that night I had never really gotten drunk but the second I got back to the bonfire, I was digging through the cooler and shotgunning canned Smirnoff. "Woah," Riley laughs "Someone's finally being a bad influence."

I got myself so shit-faced that when everyone else got up to dance to the music blaring through the Bluetooth speaker, I sat by myself at the shoreline, looking bitterly out towards to ocean while the tides crash at my feet and get sucked back into the ocean. For a moment I think about jumping in and letting my lax body get washed away and sink beneath the surface until I wash up as a water-bloated corpse that some nine-year-old will find when they're beach combing.

My mouth tastes like peroxide and blood, my lungs burn with a red-hot pain. The wind is becoming increasingly harsh and I ignore the hair that is tangled into my golden hoop earrings.

"Wow, you look awful," I don't need to turn around to know who it is.

"Can you just fuck off?" I say "I don't give a shit about you, just leave me alone."

She always had to antagonize me, Ellie went out of her way to stray from the group and bother me. It had something to do with the alcohol in her system. Despite her alleged hatred for me, she takes a seat next to me regardless.

"Fuck, you're so sensitive," She scoffs "I don't know why you're dating him, I'm not even sure why you'd want to fuck him unless you're too lazy to jerk off-

My hands think before my head and I deck Ellie right in the side of her face, getting a solid hit to her cheekbone. My hand flies over my mouth "I'm sorry, I-

Ellie doesn't waste any time in lunging back at me, she pushes me down by my shoulders until my back is in the shallow of the water that moments ago just splashed at my feet and takes a swing. The impact of her punch almost knocks me sober.

I take a sharp inhale, grabbing her elbows and pulling her down to where she was the one on her back and I was the one straddling her. I land one last blow to her nose, I hear a crunch and the panic immediately sends me scrambling to my feet. My eyes go wide at the blood dripping down, her face I turn to run but Ellie is faster, she grabs me by my hair and yanks me down further into the water with her. 

"Fucking cunt!" I cry, though my scream is drowned out by the overwhelmingly loud tides crashing on the shore "Get the fuck off me!" 

Ellie is better at fighting than I am, I had never been on this side of her before, usually, I had been the one to drag her away from fights but now I am the one who is going to stumble home numb from the devastating pain.

Frankly, I'm fucking scared.

She continues to drag me by my hair until I'm knee-deep in the water with her, she almost throws her entire weight into me, dunking me beneath the surface where her bony hands snake around my neck. My eyes have gone blurry with the salt water, they sting and burn. I can't see anything, all I can do is uselessly thrash beneath her. My hands push against her face, trying to pry her off my body. 

Eventually, I manage to claw her face with my fingernails, I dig deep enough that it breaks skin and she recoils just enough for me to knee her in the stomach and let me get out from under her. Just as I try to slip away she reaches for my hair again, but instead of tugging on my hair, she rips out my gold hoop earring. I screech out in agony, hand reaching for where the metal sliced through the lobe of my ear, I shudder in pain; my cries are now jagged and harsh.

This is the exact moment Ellie begins to regret what she's done. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to." Her tone softens and she tries to approach me but I back away from her like a frightened dog.

"Get away from me!" Despite the pain surging in my body, I find the strength in me to hit her again, she staggers back tripping into the water. I hit her so hard that I feel a crack in my knuckle and I yelp out in the immediate shock of pain. 

I wasn't sure when the others had noticed this was happening probably because my vision had gone blurry from salt water and adrenaline but before Ellie could hit me again, she was being restrained by Riley and Kennedy while some guy who I had probably had two conversations with dragged my back to shore.

I keel over on my hands and knees and begin to start retching onto the sand. Laila rubs a gentle hand on my back, my hair sticking wet on my forehead. A seagull, disturbed by the commotion, took flight, its wings cutting through the charged air. 

Next to the pile of vomit I just heaved, blood drips down from my ear, pooling and then soaking into the sand. My neck swells from what is still the raw sensation of Ellie closing her hands around it. 

I look up at Ellie, there is blood that has dripped its way into her mouth, clinging to her white teeth. She has what almost looks like a cat scratch running down her cheek, blood begins to prick and spill from the lacerations.

She stares back at me and we don't say a word but we understand each other clearly, I never want to see you again.

"Let's go," Ellie grabs my arm as Dina begins to slice the cake "We're gonna fix this right now."

"Ellie, there are so many people here," I say in a hushed tone so people can't hear me.

"I don't mean here," She looks at me, face expressionless "Just get in my car."

"Excuse me?" I say, tone accusing "Did you just order me to get in your car?"

"Fuck," She sighs, dropping my wrist to rub her hands down her face "Please can you get in my car so we can work this through."

"There's nothing to work through," I retort "You're embarrassed by me or you still secretly hate me and that's fine, I meant what I said on winter break about the lease, the second it's up, I'm getting the fuck out of here."

"What? No, don't- just," She takes a breath, reevaluating what to say "I have a point to make but I can't make it unless you get in my car."

We stare at each other for a moment, I narrow my eyes and she is still unmoving. Every scenario runs through my head of what could be waiting for me in that car.

"Fine."

I sit silently in her passenger seat, my knees are pulled into my chest and I rest my chin on them. Ellie doesn't say anything either as she drives. I watch each traffic light pass me, every street name to try and make sense of where we are going.

I almost feel like I'm going to suffocate beneath the silence of everything going left unsaid.

When I spot the boardwalk up ahead, I know exactly where she's taking me "Ellie, why are we at the beach?" I give her a side glance "Do I need to take out my earrings?"

Heat rises to her cheeks when I say this, "Not yet," She jokes, getting out of her car and grabbing a tote bag from the back seat, and I follow in tow.

We walk past the boardwalk and onto the sandy beach, I'm already not feeling whatever she's doing; there is sand filling up my Converse and a slight wind chill, I'm really wishing I had a hoodie right now. "Can you tell me what we're doing yet?" I'm hugging myself in an attempt to stay warm "If we're still walking on the beach why couldn't we have just walked on the boardwalk instead? It literally has walk in the name." I'm already going off on one of my tangents.

She still walking ahead of me but she briefly turns around to face me "Can you just stop asking questions for a minute?"

"Okay, whatever," I mutter, trailing behind her still. I can hardly see in the night, the only light to guide us is the moon and the warm ceiling lamps from restaurants along the boardwalk. I can vaguely see Ellie's silhouette, she's outlined by the gentle glow radiating off the moon, I try my best not to stumble over things poking out of the sand that have been lost to sight by darkness. 

"Okay," Ellie stops, "Here we are."

"Where are we?" I ask "I can't see shit, I don't know where here is."

Ellie digs around in her pocket for her phone and turns on a flashlight and it reveals a small iron firepit that was cemented into a slab of concrete in the sand. She hands me her phone so I can keep the flash on her and she can see what she's doing. 

She pulls out some pages ripped out from her notebook "Can you hand me your lighter?"

My eyebrows furrowed, and I felt around in my pocket wondering if I even had one. I did, it had slipped my mind that I still had the bic lighter that I confiscated from Peach Fuzz. I hand the lighter to her and watch as she tucks the pages beneath logs that were in the firepit before we arrive, they are somewhat charred but still viable.

She flicks the lighter to ignite it and the paper catches immediately. The initial flicker grew into a tentative blaze, licking at the edges of the kindling. The crackling sound echoed through the night. 

Once she is sure the fire can survive without her feeding it, she steps away. "Alright, let's have it out."

"Like sex?" I scrunch up my nose.

"Oh my god, no, like let's talk this through." She pinches her nose bridge, taking a breath in before exhaling and putting her hand back down "We're gonna recreate the night of the bonfire how it should've been," Ellie reached back into her bag and pulled out two white claws "I snagged these from Dina's party, sorry this was kind of last minute."

I can't help the smile that grows on my face, I take one of the white claws and crack it open "I don't know how authentic this is gonna be if there isn't any canned Smirnoff."

I think back to exactly how that night played out and I take a seat on the sand, facing the crashing dark ocean. I sip my white claw, as expected Ellie takes a seat next to me, just what happened on the actual night.

"Wow," She says "You look really pretty and I'm an idiot for ever saying you looked awful," Ellie looks gorgeous illuminated by the orange light of the fire, and the breeze causes her flyaway hairs to drift in the wind. "I'm an asshole for pretending that I didn't know you, I was scared I would get hurt again and take it to heart like I did last time. I promise the second we get home that I'll come clean."

I don't know if I can deal with this sugary philosophy. She's being so sweet that it's rotting my teeth.

"Ellie," I say gathering my thoughts, it was so hard being honest with my feelings, it felt like I would get hospitalized if I showed any emotion. "I was so in love with you in high school that it killed me, and I was terrified that my parents would throw me out well, they did- but that's why I pushed you away and there isn't a day that goes by where I don't regret it." 

The surprise on her face morphs into a soft smile "What about now?" she asks "Do you still love me?"

I shrug, it's honest "I dunno, but I think there's room to try."

She looks from me to the ocean and the way the moonlight glitters off the surface "What happened next?" Ellie toys with the tab of her drink "Did you hit me?"

"Yeah," I say softly, following her gaze out to the waters "But if we're doing the night how it should've been, I'd rather just kiss you."

Ellie turns her head back to look at me. She shoves her white claw into the sand then takes my face into one of her hands and kisses me like it's her job, so tender and carefully like she's afraid I will break beneath pressure.

How weak have I become? My heart is so full of her that I can hardly call it my own.

A/N: Be grateful for this ending because I was very tempted to give you guys an unhappy one. Sorry that I forgot to post this lol, I’m sad this series is over but excited to show you all my next one which may be the angst-iest yet 👀

Thanks for reading!

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[bamsara]

i know "When did you stop loving me?" is an angsty one, BUT what if it was actually an overly dramatic lament bc someone didn't get their way?

(I love that twist! Note: This written prompt is fluff/domestic shenanigans with Y/N having a habit of poor self-care, but the DA helps that.)

(This is a bit long so maybe not a drabble but a one-shot, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway!)

You're a college student with a hetic, inconsistant schedule job and more stressers in your life that would make a therapist whistle, so you're not exactly the best at self-care, or even regular human maintence. Your eating schedule was flakey at best and the contents of your fridge wasn't anything healthy if just something to pop into the microwave very quickly to save time. Sometimes your apartment would get dirty quickly and with no mental energy or time to clean it up, you just lived a little gross for a while. Don't even get started on your sleep schedule.

The Daycare Attendant, you realize, became quite aware of your situation more-so than they already had after their 'permanent moving' into your home, and thus you've been subjected to more life changes in the last week than you'd ever be prepared for.

Sun uses your phone to order healthier groceries and and tsks at the instant-microwave meals in your cabinet. He's gotten into cooking, which is both incredably odd considering he's a robot, but amusing when you walk into the living room and he's watching an a show of middle aged women teaching the viewers how to make veggie pasta.

Maybe he misses arts and crafts back when he was at the pizzaplex, and just liked to work with his hands. Something hints at you this is a correct assumption because the fruit he cuts for you are star and heart shaped and he likes to take pictures with your phone afterwards. You don't get it, but it makes him happy and keeps his mind occupied elsewhere, so you don't mind.

Moon cleans up after your mess and threatens you (in a friendly manner, of course. You think.) to go to bed at a proper time or he becomes rather aggitated.

Any attempts at using your phone underneath the covers will result in a small EMP attack that takes out your phone and the neighbor's Television. You know, because Gramps mentioned that her TV only seems to cut out around the same time every night and nothing he does seems to fix it until morning. Moon holds no remorse, obviously.

It's nice. Even if they're a little bit pushy about about it. Honesty, you think these acts are just remants of their care giving programming, the need to feel useful after everything that happened or just trying to busy themselves with the human they're invested in. Maybe a mix of all of those things, but that's to be unpacked later.

The exchange wasn't unequel either. You've learned more about robotics in the last 6 months than you'd ever expect to know, for sure, along with some other things. You're an adult, you can keep yourself alive just fine, but it's nice to have the extra support.

It does, however, get a touch on your nerves at times.

"Moon, c'mon, I'm like, so close to the end-" You make a lunge for the remote, and it's closer to you than it was before. The animatronic holding it over your head doesn't even blink as you make a grab for it again and your fingers only brush air. "Dude! The season finale came out today. It's literally the last couple of episodes!"

"Sit." Moon states plainly. "Kitchen table."

"I'll eat later. It's not like the fridge is going anywhere, Moon. C'mon. Everyone has seen it but me and I'm already getting spoilers on my feed. Just another episode? You two said you've watch it with me anyway."

Moon blinks dully at you, and stuffs the remote underneath his hat. "No."

"C'monnnnnn"

Fingers find your collar and hook underneath the fabric, and routinly, you are dragged away from your unhealthy habit of binging new series of media to attend to your oh-so-delicate human needs that are far too demanding for your liking. The Daycare Attendant has long become acustomed to your whining.

The dinner table chair because your metaphorical prison as Moon lightly pushes towards it, sitting with a slump and a over-the-top dramatic sigh as the animatronic walks through your kitchen. The lights are dimmed, but he still squints at the refridgerator lights that greets him when he opens the door. "What do you want."

You resist the urge to snatch his hat and run. "A robot that doesn't nanny me."

Red eyes and white pupils side eye you, and Moon pulls out a a few items. He speaks deadpan. "Cry about it."

"Maybe I will." You snark back. He makes a noise somewhat akin to a snort, and you pretend your pinching his head inbetween your fingers from across the room. You raise from your seat, resigining yourself to your fate and getting yourself a drink. It's a sugary soda (caffine free!) that Moon glances at but leaves be. Sun would have polietly recommended water by now.

It's almost a funny image: a tall, clown robot standing in front of your microwave in a t-shirt and slippers, just staring at the glass with mild dissassioance until the counter goes down. You duck, popping your head underneath his elbow and his arm raises to allow you. "So." You sip at your drink, and Moon makes a face above you. "What's on the menu, Starboy?"

"Leftovers." A pause. "That we made this morning."

Right. Sun must have made a meal set during the day for the opposite half to make for you at night. Clever bastard. "...Can I have the remote now?"

Moon, without looking at you, adjusts his hat to sit better on his head.

"Bitch."

"Sit." He shoos you to the table. "And sleep after this. It's late."

Very late, actaully. Around the wee hours of 1AM and half-past god knows what. You'd been so caught up in your favorite show that you just sorta forgot to do everything else for the day, so eating, showering, studying were all at the bottom of the list. Regaurdless, your TV called to you.

You heave a dramatic sigh, falling back onto the kitchen chair and resting your elbow on the table, cheek resting in your palm. "I can't believe you'd treat me like this after all we've been through. Denying me the simple pleasures in life, for shame."

The microwave counts down to single digits and Moon's fingers hover over the handle. You can't see his face from this angle, but a faint chuckle is in his tone. "Tragic."

"Ugh, how could you?" You sigh again, more dramatically this time, and even go as far as to place the back of your free hand against your forehead and calling back to all the cheesy soap operas you and Sun watch in your free time. "I feel soooo betrayed. When did you stop loving me?"

The microwave starts beeping and Moon's fingers lock onto the handle, and freeze.

A couple of beeps ring by. You hand lowers and you raise a brow at the animatronic's still form. You give him a moment, because sometimes the Daycare Attendant stalls sometimes, and you chalk it up to being a robot thing. But the beeping was starting to get annoying. "Hey, man. The food's done."

Another two seconds. His fingers move and pop the microwave door open. You can smell heated up veggies and broth from across the room. "Funny."

"Yep. I can be a jester too."

"One episode." Moon grabs your dinner with one hand, and pulls the remote out from under his hat with the other. "To eat your food with. Then sleep. You're lacking."

The smile on your face comes naturally, and you swipe the remote from his hands. "Yeah, sure. Like I'd let you boss me around anyways. Come lay with me on the couch and watch it with me. There's aliens in this episode."

[imagineredwood]

6. Strawberries 🍓

Summary: Just because you and Coco broke up, doesn’t mean you won’t have a Valentine. You son will make sure of that.

Pairing: Coco Cruz x female ex reader

Warnings: angst if you squint but also comfort, co parenting, breakup

Word count: 937

A/n: Dont know what it is about this trope but it just gets my feet kicking every time 😭 Took inspo from that fic I wrote a while ago about Coco and the readers son telling coco that mommy has a new ‘friend’ but made this one less toxic lol

Coco smiled as he watched his son messily spray the cool whip on top of his pancake, turning to face his dad with a proud smile.

“Look! Can you see it?”

Coco glanced down at the pancake, the cool whip placed in squiggles across the top.

“I can.”

“What is it??”

His son grinned wide, waiting for his dad to compliment his art, but Coco awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, not knowing what the hell it was supposed to be.

“It’s a…smile face?”

The boy’s smile faded some as he looked down at his pancake before looking back at Coco with confusion.

“No, it’s a sailboat.”

Coco nodded enthusiastically, his smile bright.

“Ah. I see it now. It’s beautiful, Mijo.”

The child’s grin returned again, too young to dwell on the face that Coco didn’t see a sailboat anywhere on that pancake. His focus was on something else now as he bounced on his feet, eyes pleading up at his father.

“Can I have strawberries too?”

Coco winced, knowing he didn’t have any in the fridge. He barely ever bought produce if he was being honest. He was getting into the habit of buying more veggies now that you had been leaving your son over for the weekends more recently. He had a bag of frozen mixed vegetables and a half empty carton of blueberries that would be shriveling up any day now, but no strawberries.

“Sorry, kid. I don’t have any. I have blueberries though.”

He shrugged, smile still on his face.

“That’s ok. Blueberries are good too.”

Coco released the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and went into the fridge to grab the berries.

“We can go shopping and get some once we finish eating. That sound ok?”

His son smiled and agreed, throwing in his own request.

“Yeah, and then we can get mommy a little teddy for Valentine’s Day! It’s tomorrow I think.”

Coco laughed and nodded, digging into his own pancake as he looked at his boy.

“It is, you’re right. You want to get mommy a teddy? What color?”

The carbon copy of Coco tilted his head back and forth as he chewed and thought.

“A white one. With a pink heart that says I love you.”

Coco smiled, knowing that your son loved you more than he loved anything else on the planet.

“I think that sounds great.”

“Me too. She doesn’t have a Valentine this year so I think that would make her happy.”

The light and fun energy dipped as a pang hit Coco’s chest. He didn’t let his son notice though, forcing his smile to stay right where it was. It was true. You hadn’t been with anyone since the split. Your focus had been on your son and work, no time for dating, at least that was what you had said. Valentine’s Day had always been one of your favorites and while it hadn’t really been Coco’s thing, he had indulged you every single one of the 6 years the two of you had been together. Your split had happened around 10 months ago now and while things were cordial and friendly, your interactions not regarding your son had been kept to a minimum. This would be the first time in years that you wouldn’t have a valentine and Coco was sure you wouldn’t be celebrating it seeing as you would be alone, this week Coco’s week. He decided then that he wouldn’t allow it and patted his hand gently on the counter.

“Hurry and finish up, then we’ll go to the store and buy a bunch of stuff for mommy, ok? We’ll surprise her tomorrow.”

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

Your brows furrowed as you heard the knock on your door. It was around noon, and you weren’t expecting anyone. You picked up your phone and touched the screen, no missed calls or texts. A soft knock sounded again, and you stood, wearily going to the door and pulling it open. Your apprehension evaporated as you saw the boys there hand in hand, a bouquet of red roses in Coco’s empty hand, a fluffy white teddy bear in your son’s. Your smile was ear to ear as you bent down, your son letting go of Coco’s hand to hug you tightly.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mommy!”

You laughed tearfully and hugged him to your chest tight.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby boy.”

You stood back up and took the bear as he held it up to you excitedly.

“Here! This is from me!”

You clutched the bear to your chest and pet it’s soft fur.

“I love it very much. Thank you.”

Eyes locking with Coco’s, he cleared his throat and held out the roses to you.

“And these are from me.”

You could feel yourself swoon, heart aching in your chest, Coco’s doing the same. You took the roses from his hand and held them to your nose, taking a deep breath.  

“Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

For a moment, it was as if it was only the two of you there, eyes locked, longing and sorrowful. The breakup had been mutual, for the sake of safety, but that didn’t mean it was any easier to live with. Pushing the door open, you invited them both in, Coco carrying a grocery bag as well that your son quickly grabbed and shoved towards you excitedly.

“We also got strawberries! Daddy said we could make pancakes again but with strawberries this time.”

You grinned and happily took the carton of strawberries, not bothering to mention that you already had one in the fridge. These were a thousand times better already.”

General taglist

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Mayans MC taglist

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[queercoshon]

I wrote another thing! This one has been in the works for a while. It is also posted on my deviantart. It's a little bit softer than the usual content I post. As always, please feel free to leave suggestions/ideas

‐------------

When I first moved into your spare room, I was definitely on the smaller side. Adult life had bulldozed me, and I learned quick meals and protein bars were the easiest way for me to eat. If I had to make something more complicated, chances are I would just forget to eat entirely.

You, on the other hand, loved to cook, bake, and create different cocktails. Every overindulgence in the past few years showed on your body, curves cascading down your back and flaring at your hips, and your belly often hanging over the waistband of your pants.

You quickly picked up on my food habits, and were quite frankly appalled.

"How can you not love food? Every flavour, every texture? Food is art to me. Have you had good food before?"

I shrugged, because, no, not really. My experience with food thus far had been boxed pastas, cans of soups and chilis, whatever frozen meals were on sale, and various boxed snacks. Eating them didn't bring me a fraction of the joy you got just from talking about food.

Thus began your mission of making me fall in love with at least one dish.

You really could have stopped at the first dish. The leek and potato stew blew my mind. I had never had leeks and found potatoes flavourless mush. But somehow you managed to make such mundane ingredients into a symphonious dish, tastes layering over one another. I could not get enough. The warmth spread from my stomach to encompass my body, and in my cozy bliss I just kept eating, chasing the high of this delectable experience.

I had eaten so much my stomach didn't even slosh when I painstakenly got up from the table.

Your first success spurred you into overdrive. You sought different flavour profiles and combinations, testing to see which ones would make me melt. Most of them did.

Most days I was coming home to the scent of dinner leading me down the hall, with an underlying sweetness hinting at dessert.

You tried a wide range of cuisines. Pot pies, various proteins with rice and veggies, curries from all around the world, and so many different types of pasta. Desserts include cobblers, doughnuts, pies, cakes, and a variety of pastries. I could not believe how much flavour was in everything, and was desperate to get as much of it as possible. Every meal ended with me breathing shallowly, hand caressing my overburdened gut, and you with a satisfied smirk on your face.

With your increase in cooking came your increase in eating. Slowly your body started to billow outward, filling out all your clothes, finally forcing you to look at specialty stores to restock.

My weight gain was not so slow. My body was so used to running on minimal to average calories, it didn't know what to do with the sudden influx, now having to process at least twice what I used to eat in a day.

The first place it was noticable was my gut. It only took a week or two before I had a cute little pot belly. It would push open the buttons on my shirt, and cause issues when buttoning my pants. The rest of my body followed suit. My thighs and ass started to swell, my arms felt constricted in my t-shirts, and a double chin was quickly noticable. I barely noticed. I was so caught up in a whirlwind of culinary pleasure that I paid no mind to my tightening waistbands and my gut starting to peak out of my shirt.

Soon you started cooking breakfast, too. The table would be covered in food, from pancakes to bacon, hashbrowns to quiche. Each day there was something different, and each day I gorged until nearly comatose.

Eating like this every day rapidly changed my body, I had put on 100lbs in 11 months, from the first time you made that stew. I had upgraded my wardrobe 4 times, and was needing to again soon.

And then is was December. The month of overindulgence. Holiday parties every weekend. Potlucks, cocktail parties, hearty meals, sometimes multiple events in the same day.

This was the first time I truly appreciated food; the tastes, the textures, and the stories behind each dish. I tried everything, and then I tried everything again. Most nights I struggled to waddle from the car to my bed. On the rare occasions I wasn't fit to burst, you sat me down on the couch and made me try your creations for the next party. On those nights, I was bound to pass out in the living room, eyes glazed over, gut too stuffed to think about getting up.

Despite all the socializing and gatherings, Christmas day was quiet, just the two of us. I didn't want to fly across the country to see my few relatives, and you were going to do a late holiday dinner with your family at the end of January, when work slowed down for your parents.

I received two sets of pajamas that year. One from you, plaid pants and a red flannel top. It was a little big, but we both knew that wouldn't be the case for long. The other pair I got was from a childhood friend I hadn't seen in person in over 2 years. The pants were baby blue with snowflakes, and the tank top had a cheesy graphic and the phrase "Let it Snow!"

When you went to go work on the feast planned for the day, I tried the second pair of pajamas on. Despite being incredibly stretchy, I could barely get the pants past my thighs. My ass was hanging out the back, and the drawstrings were instantly lost in the waistband. The graphic on the shirt was horrendously distorted, and I could feel a breeze on the bottom of my belly. I was about to change back into the first pair of pjs when you called me for Christmas meal. My mind now only focused on one thing, I stopped what I was doing and lumbered to the table.

You called it Christmas Meal, because it was past noon, but well before dinner time. With the amount of food you made though, we could be there well into the night. There was the traditional fixings; turkey, stuffing, gravy, mashed potatoes, green beans, honey roasted carrots, sweet potato casserole, and dinner rolls, but you also added a baked ziti dish, homemade pizza rolls, and cottage pie. Bottles of wine, apple cider, and sparking water lined the middle of the table. There was enough food for 10 people, and we were just 2. I could smell desserts being baked to perfection in the other room.

"This looks amazing! I've never had anything like this. I'm sorry I couldn't help..."

You patted my stomach and laughed. "The only help I need is getting it all eaten. Load up and dig in!"

I piled my plate high with everything I could fit. It would take me at least 2 plates to try everything, probably 3 with the portion sizes I was taking. I looked over, and saw your plate faced the same overburdened fate as mine.

You ladled me a generous glass of mulled wine from the crock pot.

"Cheers!"

And then we fell into a frenzied silence, only the cacophony of two gluttons enjoying a sinfully indulgent feast, and the tv still playing Christmas special reruns in the other room made noise in our tiny apartment.

I still don't know how you did it, but every bite I took had me holding back a moan.

My family had attempted to make a turkey once in my life, and it resulted in a tasteless hunk of disappointment, the bird so dried out that the white meat was somehow pointy and sharp. The one you made was opposite to everything I expected. It was nearly falling apart in my mouth, the seasoning from the brine and rub made it to every bite. Different levels of flavours washed over me, and my eyes nearly rolled into the back of my head.

Every dish you made was like this. Some of them I had equally dismal expectations of, like the green beans, sweet potato casserole, mashed potatoes, and pizza rolls, all things my family had made sacrilege of once. Everything else I either hadn't had, or only had store bought. Even the best store bought ziti bake didn't come close to yours.

I was put into a trance. There was not a moment where I was still, constantly chewing, swallowing, and reaching for the next bite. Everything was washed down with copious amounts of wine and cider.

My shirt was pushed up by my rounding gut, bunched up under my chest by the end of the 3rd plate, my cheeks were warm, and every gurgle my belly let out just pushed me to eat more.

Your clothes had given up containing your belly. It sat naked on full display, hanging out of your defeated shirt, pushing your thighs apart as it sank further. You were absent-mindedly rubbing the crest of your gut as you shoved another role in your mouth. I poured the last of the 2nd bottle of wine in your glass, and popped open the 3rd to serve myself.

It wasn't until just after starting my 7th plate that I realised how overstuffed I was. It all hit me at once, the bottom of my belly itching as my skin stretched around my stomach swelling forward, my breathe shallow and pained, my lungs given no room to expand, pushing out a burp with every other gasp of air. I couldn't lean back without getting a stitch.

You were in a similar state. Hiccups jolting your body shaking out burps, your hands gingerly massaging your gut which was red and almost shiny.

I don't know how long we sat there, just rubbing our guts and moaning. There was still food left, but maybe enough for 1 averaged-sized meal for both of us. Everything else was crammed into our bellies.

Firmly drunk now, the sensation of rubbing my belly was sending sparks along all my nerves. Between that and riding the high of the first Christmas meal I had ever enjoyed, I was lost in my own little world of bliss.

A harsh timer bell going off in the kitchen jolted me out of my stupor, unleashing a string of burps and a new bout of hiccups. You groaned as you got up, supporting your back and belly like you were 9 months pregnant.

You looked at me with a wine-soaked grin.

"Ready for dessert?"

[beloveddawn-blog]

Nine people to get to know

Thanks to @leahnardo-da-veggie for tagging me! I did this a bit ago, but have no trouble doing it again!

Last song: San Quentin by Nickleback. I know there was at least one other song on after that on the drive home, but that was what I had turned up.

Favourite Colour: red, bright and bold. It washes me out badly though, so blue or purple for wearing

Currently watching: still Sailor Moon R. We're out of the Doom Tree arc, but life has been kicking mine and coffeeangelinabox's asses and we haven't been consistent with the actual watching of things on movie night

Favourite flavour: pistachio or saskatoon

Current Obsession: pokemon. I bought Sword secondhand when my neices decided they were into it (I got them Sheild for Christmas) and now I'm at the point where I'm hassling my sister about them getting leveled up so I can get those goddamn exclusives and complete my pokedex.

Last thing I googled: Avril Lavigne's age when her career started

Favourite season: fall. I love the way leaves crunch, and I can wear my collection of awesome hoodies/light jackets everywhere. Mostly though by the time a season changes I'm bored of it anyway and am looking forward to the next.

Skill I'd like to learn: Sewing or art. I can do basics of both, but I'd like to get good at them. That, however, entirely depends on time and I usually don't prioritize them enough for that.

Best Advice: Please and Thank you for everything. My Dad gave me a great object lesson in this by being a petty-ass jerk to a rude and entitled student and the college he worked at, and it's served me well. I'm a crew lead at my own job and I cannot overemphasize the difference it makes in my team when I thank them earnestly for doing the things they're supposed to do anyway. They work harder, look for ways to help, and are generally much more chill and happier when they feel valued.

If I tagged you last time, sorry. If I haven't tagged you at all but you want to play, sorry for that too and feel free to join in! @slimylittlemaggot @messy-jaxx @mitchell-nihil @poetinlovewithflowersonhisgrave @stesierra @squarebracket-trickster @minnieposting @artistvicky @mageofcolors

[bleach-stories]

RETIREMENT HCs!

——

Shunsui: nothing really changed, tbh. Other than a lack of people yelling at him, he’s still up to the same old shenanigans

Soi-Fon: retirement isn’t for her. She denies ever leaving and continues her captain’s duties, much to her replacement’s annoyance

Unohana: people say retirement has treated her well- she looks younger, more relaxed. But what people don’t know, is that she’s been taking up training again. Apparently it’s a good outlet

Shinji: he embraces not having to wear a haori a little to enthusiastically.

Byakuya: Bya is finally able to embrace his long awaited hobby: art. Now that he lacks captain responsibilities, he finds himself experimenting with various crafty materials

Sanjin: he spends his time running around and playing with his grandchildren. He’s absolutely wrapped around their little fingers, no doubt about it

Kensei: Jushiro recruits him into his garden/cooking craze. Kensei honestly doesn’t mind, except when he has to deliver Jyuu’s veggie presents. He’s insulted by the raised eyebrows and outright giggles whenever he shows up at people’s doors..carrying a package with veggie-themed wrapping paper..and a hat that reads: “if there’s any problem, please lettuce know”

Jushiro: due to his plethora of free time, Jyuu now has a ginormous, thriving garden. He spends his time wrapping his veggies into cute little presents and giving them away, as well as cooking vast amounts of recipients with his garden-picked ingredients

[inconspicious-random-thoughts]

I get the impression that Lute had it out for Vaggie long before she made the "mistake" of sparing a cannibal child. Her mutilation of Vag seemed way to calculated and pre-mediated for it to have been a spur of the moment act of brutality. Considering how Vaggie was apparently one of Adam's best Exorcists, she may have had one of the higher individual kill counts among the Legion, something that Lute may have been jealous of her for despite being Adam's number 2. I get the feeling that she was waiting for Vaggie to screw up in some way so she could "cut her loose". She probably kept a close eye on her during Vaggie's last Extermination, saw her spare the child and jumped and was like "opportunity".

art by: reicav97 I really love this scenario and hope it makes it to the show.

Hello again.

Lute is a stoic character yet at the same time so very aggressive and hostile.

Despite her belligerent demeanor, she very loyal to Heaven and appears to have no ill will to the other angels. One can argue that reason Lute is so venomous to Vaggie is because she views Vaggie as a traitor and Lute is very loyal to Heaven and their cause.

But I agree. I think Lute has a personal vendetta against Vaggie. I would guess it was because Vaggie was originally the number 2 to Adam but in the flashback of Vaggie backstory, it still seem clear that Lute had the position then Vaggie. Perhaps the second in command was open and the two were recommended for it at one point. (But then what happened to the angel that had it before if angels were believed to be unharmed?) Veggie just being really outstanding in battle with her numbers. But Vaggie heart wasn't into commanding...and more so of working closer with Adam. While Lute numbers weren't as high but her belief in the cause, and desire of the position and qualities of leading had her qualified. Lute won out at the end by Adam decision, only because Lute had better chemistry and similar views with him about their task and Sinners. Lute just seem to vibe better with Adam which what won him over. (we see how in sync they are...Adam making lewd gestures to emphasize the point the Lute sung about at the trial) Lute, still sees Vaggie as a threat for her position. It only thing I can think of at the time being.

It could be just pure jealousy. Lute seems to be a very jealous girlfriend type. She probably hated Adam admiring Vaggie skills to the point that Adam name her Vaggie after the best thing ever. Lute jealousy also extending to Adams (previous and current((?))) wives.

But I think there's more to it. I know the exorcist thing is the x over the eye but the way Lute brutally cut out Vaggies eye seem a hell of a lot more personal. It seem quite literally. "an eye for an eye". It seem that Lute felt wronged by Vaggie on a personal level and this was her chance to enact the brutality of punishment that Lute believed she deserved. Then move on on a more professional note to strip Vaggie of her wings and halo, the very symbols of a heavenly angel for failing to perform her heavenly duty. But the eye,to me, felt personal.

Lute does seem to have a vendetta against Vaggie. But the reason is a mystery. Lute was definitely keeping a close tabs on Vaggie during the extermination. Since she swooped in nearly immediately when Vaggie refused to kill that child sinner. (Seriously, is it really that kids fault that he was a cannibal? I mean...he was a child...he was probably eating whatever he was fed not really know what he was eating.)

If we do, get more backstory, which I doubt, I think it be revealed that Lute and Vaggie use to be really close. Similar to how Vox and Alastor use to be close. But there's a hell a lot more of venomously animosity between Lute and Vaggie then there is between the overlords.

But we can't really know. The whole exorcist thing is pretty vague. We would know more about Lute and Vaggie if we know more about the exorcist in general. I would like to know more of it in general.

I remember Vaggie fact use to say she died 2014 when there was only the pilot out, but that been completely omitted now.

So is Vaggie and the other Exorcist were humans prior? I don't think that the case. It doesn't seem like a rewarding end life after living as a virtuous person. Waking up to Heavens gates then task with a job (I for one don't want my afterlife to have a job) to be in a secret killing force? Also, if we used the omitted Vaggie death day, plus guessing the time of the story is 2019, when the pilot came out...and Vaggie was with Charlie for three years...it only makes Vaggie an exorcist for two years. It seems unlikely the exorcist were humans at one point.

So I assume...the exorcist as always been angels. That Adam had a hand in? He gives them names apparently. So, like Lilith and Eve are the exorcist (all woman) also came from his ribs? That he regenerates to create more. The dickmaster father all of human and all the exorcist? If Vaggie has always existed as an angel...How long has she been one and took part of exterminations. Be interesting she caught glimpse of the hotel residence in the past during the exterminations only for them to become her found family later. Questions and more questions.

What's with the missing eye motif on the exorcist mask. I know, its more eye for an eye theme. In 'Hell is Forever'

"Did I hear you imply they don't deserve death? Are they winners, are they sinners? 'cause it cut and dry. Fair is fair, an eye for an eye..."

So what EXACTLY was he referring to? The sinners previous life of them committing their sins and the exorcist fulfilling the punishment? Or there something more...the uprising that Sera referred to Emily like was fact. The supposed uprising being the reason the exorcist came to exist to stop. What...actually went down (up?) with this uprising.

[bullet-prooflove]

Washington!Series Part Seven: Charlie 1 - Captain Joe Milius x Reader (feat: Charlie 1)

Tagging: @witches-unruly-heart @shhoooketh @greenies-green @thandesa91 @atomic-art-dragon @irishavengersassemble @factualfic @mydarkestsecretlol @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond @burningpeachpuppy

Part One: Washington - You and Joe spend the night together before he leaves for Washington.

Part Two: Positive - You call Joe for the first time in two months.

Part Three: Tonight (NSFW) - You and Joe get reaquainted after two months apart.

Part Four: Family - Joe finds out your secret.

Part Five: Distance - Joe finds the distamce challenging when he misses your first sonogram.

Part Six: Kicking - Joe feels his baby kick for the first time.

You’re six months pregnant when Charlie 1 turns up at your door with a bottle of top shelf bourbon and a gleam in his eye. It’s an echo of the past, of a time before you and Joe got together.

Rugged, mysterious, built in all the right places.

Charlie is every woman’s wet dream and also the perfect hook up.

The life of a private military contractor was seldom predictable.

He’s there one minute and gone the next.

“Hey.” He says before his gaze lowers to the baby bump situated between the two of you. “I guess bourbons off the table.”

You smile as your hand smooths over your rounded stomach.

“Amongst other things.”

It’s been over eighteen months since you last laid eyes on him, and you already know exactly how this is going to play out. Charlie’s going to turn around and disappear into the night, never to be seen again. You have nothing to offer him, you’re six months pregnant with another man’s baby and honestly, you’re exhausted.

“How about you let an old friend come in and we can talk about how this happened?” He said pointing at your baby bump.

It’s a curve ball, one that you aren’t expecting. Charlie’s involvement in your life has been limited to post mission fucking, something he is very good at. He’s a passionate lover, dedicated and skilful but there isn’t usually much follow up. You’d grabbed a meal a couple of times, drinks the last time he was in Hawaii. He was fun to be around, but he was usually gone by the time the morning rolled around.

This transition has you intrigued, and if you’re honest being behind a desk has you bored out of your mind. At least with Charlie you know he has some wild stories.

“Sure.” You say opening up the door. “Why don’t you come in?”

***

Charlie is full of surprises.

One of those surprises is that he can cook, you discover this because the first thing he does is head into your kitchen. It’s not an unusual course of action, there’s a running joke at Pearl that he’s rarely seen without a snack in his hand. However, when he starts pulling out the veggies and other items from the fridge, you realise the plan is to actually cook a meal. You try to protest but he gives you a look as he starts to slice a red bell pepper that tells you not to argue.

“We both need to eat.” He says as he cuts into the vegetable. “And at least this way I know you’re getting something healthy in you.”

It’s not as odd as it seems, having another man cooking in your kitchen. Your partner Kai comes over once week and cooks a slew of meals for you to reheat because he knows you’re exhausted after work. His father Wally, owns a restaurant and has turned up on more than one occasion when Kai’s been too caught up in a case to make sure you’re fed. That’s the nature of your ohana, they express love through acts of service.

You reach over and snag a piece of chopped red pepper before popping it into your mouth. Charlie tilts his head to look at you and you see something in his eyes, something you don’t think you’ve seen before.

“So you and Joe…” He says gesturing at the baby bump. “How long’s that been going on?”

“Around eighteen months.” You tell him as he pushes more of the sliced pepper towards you. You pick up another piece before crunching it between your teeth.

“After the thing with the safe houses in Mexico?” He asks, his pacing slowing as he dissects a carrot.

You know what he’s really asking. How long after us did it happen? You’re not sure why it matters but it seems to.

“Why are you here Charlie?” You ask him, tilting your head so you can read his expression. “I mean really? You could have just turned around and left when you found out I was pregnant, but you decided to stay, to cook for me. That’s never been us.”

“What if I wanted it to be?” Charlie asks you, setting the knife down on the chopping board. “What if I realised I messed up back in Mexico?”

“Charlie…”

He presses his palms flat upon the work surface before he lets out a sigh.

“Do you remember what I told you that night?” He asks you.

You fall silent and he knows that you do.

You were tangled up in his sheets, his cock buried deep inside of you as he holds you on the precipice of climax, his thumb ghosting over your flushed cheek.

“Charlemagne. My real name is Charlemagne.”

It’s the only real piece of personal information he’d revealed about himself, and it heightens the intimacy. You clench around him, the ecstasy flooding your system as he whispers against your lips.

“I want to hear you say it when you come.”

His voice interrupts the memory, drawing you back to the present.

“You are the only person who knows who I am.” He tells you; his eyes meet yours and you see the weight of that admission, how much it costs him.

Charlie doesn’t trust easy and that night he had taken a step, a huge step because the truth was, he wanted more with you. That’s why he came here tonight, after eighteen months trying to forget you, he’d decided it was time to put his cards down on the table. Only things had changed and now he’s in your kitchen, halfway through preparing a meal because for a moment he wanted a glimpse into the life he could have had, the life that Joe does have.

Only Joe’s not here.

Charlie gets the impression that Joe isn’t here a lot.

“Aren’t you tired of doing this alone?” He asks you, his gaze lowering to the baby that resides inside of you.

He can see he’s struck a nerve, it’s in the way you tense your jaw as you turn your head away.

“Joe’s not here.” Charlie says quietly. “But I am, maybe we should talk about that.”

Love Joe ? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[aeferkssr]

— let's go below zero and hide from the sun!

SYP. a wonderful way to stay warm against freezing frigid winds, with the one to whom you love the most

CHARA. aether x gn!reader

WARNING.

NOTES. lets pretend that the picture isnt blood guys, this is literally fluff it was the only picture i could find. also haters would say its spring, bro its literally december🤨

art creds.

“im so cold” you complain to your traveling companions. when you didn’t get a response you continued to pester them “im so cold im starting to smell colours and taste-“

“we get it, [ name ], you’re cold!” paimon interrupts you before stuffing her face back into aether’s scarf. aether chuckles as he pats the fairy’s head. focusing back on trekking the snow covered mountain.

around a certain part of each year, something goes wrong in dragonspine. you and aether had made it a habit to patrol the icy mountain to see if these incidents can be prevented. so far, your little group hasnt come across anything noteworthy and decided to rest in a nearby valley of pure white.

you were never adapt with the cold, constantly sticking your hands between the fabric of your clothes and your bare skin to avoid frostbite. but your boyfriend seemed unfazed, proudly wearing his usual top that gave you a pleasant view of his midriff. how was he not shivering? you’re wearing twice as much clothes as he was right now!

you sneak up to aether as he lights a nearby pot to make soup, wrapping your arms around his face and snuggling into his scarf. he still carries the same star-like scent that he did when you two first met.

“cold?” he asks before successfully lighting the fire. he turns around to face you as you bury your face into his chest and grumble. “don’t worry, dear, i’ll warm you up” he hugs you closer, placing his chin on your shoulder as he continues to prepare the soup. as he worked, he hummed a sweet tune, one that seemed to fit the snowy weather you two were surrounded by.

when you asked about the song, he placed a kiss on your forehead then explained that it was from a world that he and his sister visited. it was a land of snow and ice, a barren wasteland with little civilisation akin to snezhnaya. this patch of white simply reminds him of it. they had rich culture full of sports and dance that aether finds fascinating. he wonders that if dragonspine had as big of a population as mondstadt, would the people be doing similar things?

you listen to him talk about the world with open ears and a soft smile on your face, aether has always seemed to light up while talking about his previous adventures. maybe thats why he doesn’t seem to be as affected by the cold as you are.

“was the place as cold as dragonspine?” you ask, lifting your head slightly

“oh no, much colder. as soon as we landed, we both sneezed and huddled together for warmth”

“like what we’re doing right now?”

he chuckles as he kisses you again “kind of, with much less kissing definitely”

you two laugh together, the way he talks about his sister makes you miss her as well, despite having only met her once. being alone must of been hard for him, yes, he has you and paimon — speaking of paimon, where is she? — but he was missing his sister, his flesh and blood. you could only imagine what he went through before meeting paimon.

“paimon! soups ready!” aether calls out as paimon pops back to where she was previously, quickly snatching the bowl from his hands and chowing down while being careful as to not burn her tongue. you turn around in his lap as he hands you a bowl of radish and veggie soup. you thank him with a kiss to his jaw, and take a sip of the heavenly soup your lover made.

not even halfway into your bowl, paimon sighs as she finishes her 3rd bowl:

“that was too good, traveler! im sure you’re the best cook in teyvat!”

“she’s right, aether. thank you so much for the meal”

aether giggles at your praise, his hand rubbing his nape in embarrassment, while hiding his face in your neck.

“well, im gonna leave you two alone. have fun on the rest of your patrol!” paimon says before poofing away to where she usually goes. she suddenly pops back in with a stern look on her face and her small hands pointing at you two menacingly: “and no funny business, you hear me?!” she poofs back.

“what exactly does she mean by ‘funny business’?” you question

“i have an idea…”

he gently pushes you off and takes your hand, leading you to the middle of the feild. the snow falls around you two as he pulls you to his chest, wrapping his right arm around your waist and having your fingers entwine with his left. you two slightly sway, being led by the soft melody of the song aether was singing before. the lyrics you couldn’t understand, but the meaning transcended between barriers such as language; being with you in the winter, is as sweet as the summer.

you arm raises to his shoulder as he spins you around with a shared grin, weaving through each other as you were led by your lover felt like second nature. the gaze that was filled with adoration never left, it only softened and or scrunched up as he smiles at you, you were either looking down at your feet to avoid stepping on him, or getting lost in his golden, lovestruck eyes.

he repeats the chorus as he slightly dips you, and indulges in a passionate kiss. when you two parted, you giggled as the both of you still felt euphoric from the sweet moment you two shared.

aether sneezes, he rubs his nose with the tissue you provided him as he opened his mouth to be fed the miso soup you had prepared earlier

“i thought that you had experienced worse than dragonspine, hmm? what happened to the experienced traveler whom i love oh so dearly?” you teased

aether’s nose wasn’t the only part of his face that was dusted with a rosy hue, as he shamelessly opened his mouth to welcome another spoonful of your soup into his mouth.

© aeferkssr.

[fandom-nursery]

Diavolo agere headcanons

Regresses between ages 4-8

Voluntary regressor 

Regresses as often as his work schedule will allow although he rarely feels like the amount of time he gets to be little is enough 

He wishes that he was able to regress whenever he wanted to but his duties as the demon lord get in the way frequently

He is typically a very energetic and enthusiastic little and loves to play! 

Incredibly talkative since he doesn't need to watch what he says while little and can happily to chatter on about all his interests and never have to be quiet or worry about how his words will affect how he is seen as a ruler by his subjects 

He can be a little bit spoiled and gets very bratty when he doesn’t get his way. He grew up as a prince and is used to people doing what he wants 

He craves attention. Growing up without a mom and with a distant father who was quick to be strict with him he didn’t get a lot of it and so will do everything he can to get it now even if it means he has to occasionally act out 

He hates being in trouble so much. He hates to disappoint and doesn’t like it when people are mad at him  

He gets lonely very easily and this results in him being a bit clingy. He likes to be able to see you 

When he’s big his memories of his regression get a little bit fuzzy. He will often admit things to you while small only to not remember telling you once he’s big again 

He will not nap. He gets to regress so rarely and he doesn't want to waste a second of the time he has with sleep no matter how tired he is. He can sleep when he’s big 

He is a little big for most to carry but he loves being in someone's arms and receiving physical affection any way he can so he would be more than happy to be carried if you are able to 

He is up for anything most of the time while little and loves to try new things including art, pretend play, and movie nights

He is very fond of novelty rubber ducks and has started a collection to keep him company in the bath 

He loves to go out and do things. He can’t do much in the devildom due to his status however, he has been able to go do things in the human world with you (and an additional glamor charm barbatos and lucifer both insisted on)

He loves animals and is enraptured by zoos and aquariums 

Diavolo is very active and games like catch and tag are a lot of fun for him. 

His favorite thing about being little are the moments where he gets to be held and cuddled and told that he is good and loved and that you will always be there to take care of him when he needs you 

Big fan of spaghetti and meatballs! Which is great because it’s a very easy meal to hide his veggies in since he usually throws a bit of a fit about eating them 

He gets very messy while little. When he’s big he has to constantly be aware of his appearance but when he’s little all of that pressure goes away and he can be messy without any consequences 

He can not resist purchasing toys for himself and Barbatos and Lucifer frequently have to talk him out of buying anymore. He is a real sucker for any stuffed animal or toy that he thinks looks lonely. Stories like corduroy and the velveteen rabbit really get to him 

He can not be left alone for too long. He spent so much of his childhood alone and while regressed he hates feeling lonely for even a second. If he’s left alone he will very quickly become sad and instantly go searching for someone. If he can’t find them right away he will often be overwhelmed with sadness and loneliness and end up sitting down and sobbing until someone comes and comforts him 

Barbatos insisted he have clothing outside his normal attire for the times he is regressed that can get dirty and be played in without getting ruined. Diavolo has no complaints about this although he can sometimes get fussy about which of his play clothes he wants to wear 

Barbatos and Lucifer have both known about his regression for a very long time. He doesnt hide anything from them usually and he was sort of hoping that if they knew they would volunteer to be his caregiver 

For a long time Barbatos and Lucifer were his caregiver however they are both so busy that between their work schedule and his he almost never got the time to regress. When you come into the picture and offer to help out with taking care of him he is over the moon  

He doesn't plan on using parental titles for you while he’s regressed and it takes you both by surprise when he does.

[demonichikikomori]

Bottoms Up

COMMISSION

Rosho Tsutsujimori x Chubby!Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.9k+ Tags: Mutual Pining/Drunk Sex/Teacher x Teacher

Art is by 1000kcal_ on Twitter!

Wahhhhh!~! This is a commission I was excited to take on! It isn't Twst but it's a fandom I would love to be more active in. My lovely moot @sugarcookiesheep was interested in Rosho from HypMic! A character who doesn't get lots of affection hehe. I hope you all enjoy!~! The full fic will be posted on Ao3!

SUMMARY:

You were the new Home Economics teacher at Gyoshin Private High. Rosho Tsutsujimori is the socially awkward math teacher. You liked him. You think he likes you. So naturally you said yes when he invited you out for a drink.

Your final class of the day had been dismissed. The sun had begun to set, leaving the empty room filled with a warm orange hue. You tidied up to prepare for classes again tomorrow with a smile on your face. You were the new Home Economics teacher at Gyoshin Private High School, located in Osaka. Well, the newest in terms of staff. You had only joined them a year ago. The old Home Economics teacher had finally retired and you had just completed your training. The higher ups were excited to hand you off to the academy in dire need of a teacher to handle the rowdy youth. Your students were kind to you, even when you stuttered and fumbled during your first month of teaching them. 

You quickly became a fan favorite among the students. Especially the male students much to your disbelief. You had received so many chocolates, flowers, and even confession letters on White Day you feared having to wear a fake ring on your finger in the future. Some of the gifts were from students you were positive you had never taught in your class. Naturally you had gotten candy from your co-workers, but one gift stuck out to you the most. You remembered it clearly when he stood at your desk during lunch, holding out a store bought chocolate bar to you. 

It looked expensive. 

You gave him a shy thank you, feeling a bit intimidated by his stern face behind round, circular glasses. His hand looked shaky and clammy, as your fingers brushed upon accepting the chocolate bar. The teacher you had not yet properly met nodded, slowly turning red in the face, before he darted away. You had later learned that he was the math teacher Mr. Tsutsujimori. He had a knack for avoiding you, which was upsetting since you had gotten along so well with the other staff. Apparently, he has horrible stage fright and social anxiety. It was nothing personal.

It’s been a year now since you have been teaching at Gyoshin Private School. As time passed, you saw more and more of Rosho to your surprise. You would greet him early in the morning before the students would arrive and when you passed one another in the halls. Sometimes you would each lunch together in the teachers lounge in a comfortable silence. You would enjoy your colorful bento loaded with veggies, rice, and whatever meat leftovers you had from dinner. Usually you would see Rosho enjoying a small pudding cup to himself or anything small and sugary that he could find for cheap. 

You worried about him not eating properly, but when your eyes met his… Your heart would flutter, and the passing comment would fall silent as the two of you returned to your comfortable silence. After that ended, Rosho would give you a sheepish nod before scurrying towards his classroom, but lately he’s been adding in a friendly wave of acknowledgement. Progress was progress in your eyes. 

You hummed to yourself, reminiscing the fond memory of time that has passed as you taught at Gyoshin Private High School. You pulled at the tightly fastened bow on your apron to loosen it, only to turn your head at the sound of a nervous voice on the other side of your classroom door. Nearly stuttering when they called your last name in hopes of a response. But you recognized the owner, although you didn’t hear him speak often. “Yes Mr. Tsutsujimori? You’re allowed to open the door!” You assured him, watching the door slowly slide open with the math teacher standing there. His hands were laced tightly together as he offered you a small bow. “Please excuse me… I didn’t mean to interrupt if you were busy…” He cleared his throat and you shook your head with a smile. “No, no! I was only cleaning up to prepare for tomorrow.” You gave him a small wave of dismissal as you removed your pale pink apron and hung it up on a small wooden rack near your desk with an assortment of others. 

“Is there anything I can help you with?” You asked curiously as you walked over to one of the many small sinks to wash your hands. Rosho nervously adjusted his glasses higher onto the bridge of his nose. His eyes darted downwards to the floor as he cleared his throat a second time. “I have a question to ask.” He sounded stiff, as though this was a line he had been rehearsing before arriving at your classroom. “Yes? What is it?” You were genuinely curious, drying your hands and turning to face the math teacher. Rosho was not the type of man to ‘ask you a question’. Or ask anyone a question. He was a private person, and not once has he ever come to you like this. It was the friendly waves in the halls and on rare occasions seeing one another throughout Osaka in the shopping district on the weekends. 

The math teacher shifted his weight from one foot to another, his brows tensing as he mustered up the courage to continue. “I… You… Um… Do you..?” He trailed off awkwardly as you returned to your desk and opened up a small book filled with laminated pages. They were all recipes you could make with your students. “Well…” Rosho’s face held a soft frown as he looked down at the tips of his shoes. “My question… Might be a little strange…” He warned as his cheeks began to grow flushed. This caused you to look up. “Strange? How so?” Was he planning to ask you for a favor? You were sure the question was something you could handle, after all, Rosho had gathered the strength to come all the way here to ask you himself. The least you could do for him is listen. 

“What are your thoughts on alcohol?” The question was strange just as Rosho said it would be. But, you weren’t sure exactly what he meant. However you decided to answer him anyway as you stopped on a laminated recipe page for flan. “I mean… I don’t see anything wrong with it. It isn’t something I usually drink myself.” You answered to the best of your ability, and looked up at the math teacher with a warm smile. His face was completely red, and his vermillion colored eyes met yours for the first time.

The stare was intense. You could feel that he had so much more to say. Before you could ask him if he was alright, he had given you a deep bow, thanking you for your time before rushing away. You peeked your head into the hall as he rushed around the corner. Your smile had melted into a frown. Did something happen inside the school regarding alcohol? It could be that he had caught some students drinking on campus… Or maybe outside of school with their uniforms on? The thought began to worry you as you continued to tidy up before heading home for the day. 

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The next day after classes had ended, Rosho was waiting for you near the door again. You and your students had completed the first half of the recipe. The flan was stored away in the large fridge (some students had brought magnets to decorate it with your approval) and would stay overnight for them to enjoy the next day. The sweet scent seemed to encourage Rosho to step into your classroom as he sheepishly excused himself with a small bow. “Mr. Tsutsujimori! It’s nice to see you again.” You smiled sweetly with a chipper tone and began to loosen the bow on your pale purple apron decorated in small white flowers. “How can I help you?” You asked with a small tilt of your head as you hung it up on the wooden rack. He was obviously very nervous. His eyes darted to you then back to the floor before he straightened up and cleared your throat. “... I have another question to ask you.” He stated with a little more confidence than yesterday. You went to wash your hands with a puzzled look slowly turning to worry. It could be in relation to yesterday. But your mind was racing with possibilities, you couldn’t help but feel nervous as well. “Yes? I’m sure I can answer it for you.” Hopefully it wasn’t about catching any of the students drinking on campus…

He adjusted his tie and raised his eyes to meet yours. Sharp, and light red in color. The math teacher looked so intimidating. You had heard a rumor long ago that he looked far more frightening without his glasses on, that he used to be a delinquent himself. And yet he would always stammer over his ‘good mornings’ and his hands would shake when he passed by you in the hall. He could barely greet you now. Rumors are just rumors. “Would you… Perhaps..?” He trailed off with his hands folding together tightly. “There is a bar.” He blurted out suddenly as you turned back to look at him with a patient stare as you dried your hands. A bar?

He shuffled his weight on one foot to another. “It’s… Nice…” He shrugged awkwardly as you approached him with a smile. His hands looked like they were shaking, and you thought that you should help him out. “Mr. Tsutsujimori, are you trying to ask me to join you sometime?” You asked hopefully as his pale face became flushed in red rouge. 

He was silent as he stared down at you with a small nod. “If… If it isn’t too late… Would you join me this weekend? I won’t take too much of your time.” His voice was softer and shockingly hopeful as you nodded in response. “I would love to join you this weekend Mr. Tsutsujimori.” Your heart skipped in your chest as he gave you a deep and silent bow. “Thank you…” He whispered as he raised his head. He left in a hurry, racing down the hall with the tips of his ears singed from blush as the sun filled your classroom in its warm orange hue.

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Classes had ended for the week. Your students excitedly enjoyed the flan they had worked so hard to make as they came to and left from your classroom. Each holding their own variations of flan in little plastic bowls. You pulled the ribbon free from your bright red apron lined in colorful, cartoon flowers. The math teacher had returned to your classroom for the last time this week, calling out to you from the other side of the door. He sounded even more confident than yesterday. “You can come in Mr. Tsutsujimori!” You called out as you hung up your apron and went to wash your hands. The door slid open behind you, and you heard him enter the room. “P-Please excuse me.” He stuttered and entered the room, glancing around with his hands folded together. “I just came to confirm…” He trailed off, watching as you approached the fridge and opened it. “You would like to join me this weekend? I was thinking tomorrow, if we drink we’ll be needing the day after to recover.” He sounded calculated and stiff, again, as though he had rehearsed before he had come to see you. You pulled out a small tray of flan you had made with your students for each class. All varying in flavor and design. One had whipped cream on top. One was lined in cherries, while another was made of chocolate. There were six different puddings in total. “That sounds fine to me! I had made something for you. Well, I had made six things for you.” You placed the tray on your desk with a smile and motioned to it. “You have a sweet tooth, correct? I decided to make you some pudding, since you were so kind to invite me out for drinks this weekend.” Your face began to burn as bashfulness filled your chest. 

It felt silly, making him so much despite only seeing him eat a single cup during your lunch time together. “You’re so thin, I thought you needed more than just a single pudding to get you through the day!” You gave him a soft laugh as you laced your fingers together nervously. The feeling of your heart pounding against your ribs intensified as you focused on the tray. The math teacher was silent before he approached you, sliding the door shut as he looked at the tray of assorted puddings. “You made them for me?” The whisper left goosebumps prickling your skin as you nodded speechless.

A soft laugh escaped the math teacher’s lips as he looked down at the tray, and you were brought back to reality. “Oh! Let me get you a container to take them home in!” Before you could break away from the desk, Rosho raised a hand. “Wait- Actually…” He trailed off as your eyes met his. His face didn’t have the same red hue. His cheeks were flushed but this was different. “Are you busy?” He asked and you shook your head quickly in response. Your body had gone stiller than stone as he hovered near the pudding. “Is it alright if I stay here with you, and eat them now?” He asked with that same hopeful tone. The warmth in your face went down to your collar, making you feel as if you had been tossed into a sauna fully clothed. 

He wanted to stay here with you? “I… I can get you a spoon! Please, sit at my desk!” You offered and scrambled around in search of a plastic cutlery to give to the math teacher. Never would you have guessed that such a simple request would leave you feeling so flustered. As Rosho enjoyed the pudding (scraping every cup clean with a positive and stern review of each) you cleaned up and prepared for Monday when the two of you would return to greet your students in the morning. You could feel Rosho’s eyes watching you every so often, you were sure he knew when you would steal glances as well. 

When he finished his pudding, you finished preparing for Monday. Rosho had offered to walk with you to the train station and awkwardly asked to exchange numbers with you. Since the two of you would be drinking this weekend and needed a way to contact one another. You boarded the train together, staying close in that familiar and comforting silence as the warm sun had vanished, welcoming you both with an inky black scenery. Your stop had come first, and with a small wave of goodbye, you let out a breath you were holding as you left him on the train. 

You couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

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It was already 7pm and you were racing around with worry. You and Rosho were supposed to be at the bar he recommended at 8pm.

You spent all day fussing over what to wear, what color to paint your nails, and even how you wanted to style your hair. Sure, Mr. Tsutsujimori invited you out as a friend and he told you the setting was on a more casual side. But that didn’t mean you could dress too comfortably. The curls in your hair bounced as you fixed your eyeliner for a subtle wing with sparkling shadow smudged onto your lids. Curling your lashes and applying a thin coat of clear mascara that made your eyes pop and shine. You chose a clear gloss to apply to your lips, thankful that it was flavored just in case one of your late night romantic fantasies would come true. Your peach pink polish had dried long ago and you cursed yourself for not adding any glittery coating as you fastened your short pearl necklace around your throat. 

You requested your cat to wish you luck as you got dressed in something casual but something you considered worthy of going out in. A pastel pink cashmere sweater that hung off of your shoulders to fight the night chill, a long, an A line denim skirt that went down to your calf, and a pair of white boots with short heels. 

Rosho told you that he would meet you at the train station near your stop, not wanting you to ride alone so late at night. Even the sun wouldn’t be setting until 7:45. You grabbed your purse and your keys, saying goodbye to your kitty who had fallen asleep on your couch before leaving. You wanted to be early, the thought of missing the train (or Rosho) struck you with anxiety that you couldn’t shake off. You texted the math teacher a polite message saying you were on your way to the station and you were excited to join him for drinks. He sent you a sticker of a beer saying he was just as excited as you were. 

You made it to the train station around 7:20 with your purse clenched tightly in your hands as you struggled to catch your breath. It was already growing crowded as everyone waited for the next train to arrive in about ten minutes. Then, you spotted Rosho. He was leaning against a wall with his phone in his hand, squinting at it through his thin, round lenses. He was dressed in all black, an unusual sight from his brown suit and green tie, or even his periwinkle sweater vest with matching trousers. Rosho was wearing black shoes, black dress pants, a black button up, a black blazer with a subtle reflective pattern going down the chest and arms, and a black corded necklace. 

He looked far more dressed up than you did. “Excuse me, Mr. Tsutsujimori!” You called out to him and approached slowly with a smile on your face. Black looked good on him. He looked up from his phone, and you could see his face explode with the rouge color you had grown fond of. He only stared at you with wide, starry eyes. “I hope I didn’t make you wait long. I had trouble deciding what to wear. I’m sure you know how women can be!” You teased with a soft laugh as Rosho looked away. With a set of subtle inhales, you could smell the cologne he had doused his clothes in as well. A smokey wood scent and a hint of something floral. You wanted to move in closer to enjoy the scent, but you wouldn’t dare. “I-I wouldn’t know!” He stuttered out before tucking his hands into his pockets. “I wasn’t waiting long… In fact! I just got here!” Again, he sounded rehearsed as he gave you a trembling smile. It led you to believe he had been here for a while on account of his nerves. 

You gave him a soft smile and adjusted the long strap of your purse onto your shoulder. A startled expression wiping away your smile at the sound of the train arriving. You turned to look at the currently empty tracks before going back to Rosho. “Thank you again for inviting me out this weekend.” Your heart fluttered in your chest as the math teacher gave you a small nod. The nervous smile on his face remained. 

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The bar was cozy with a warm hibiscus colored glow. Many trinkets and doohickey’s lined the walls and dangled from the ceiling. A hole in the wall known as Mokarimakka. The name made you laugh as you responded to the silly neon sign with Rosho. He led you inside the narrow space, allowing you to hold onto the back of his blazer as he navigated through a small hall and up a short set of stairs. You followed closely behind Rosho, taking in a few more secretive inhales of his cologne before he showed you to the booth you would be sharing. “It’s usually crowded the later it gets in the night, I thought this would be an appropriate time for the both of us.” He explained as the two of you sat across from one another. You placed your purse beside you, taking a soft exhale as you squeezed into the red vinyl booth, frowning as the table pressed against your body. “Oh no this is fine! I’m not much of a night owl.” You wave a dismissive hand, feeling Rosho pull the table away from you just a few inches to give you some room. 

Your cheeks felt warm from the subtle action, not out of embarrassment but of admiration for Rosho. You quickly grabbed a drink menu to hide behind, noticing they served a lot of beer. “Mr. Tsutsujimori..?” You trailed off as you scoured the long list, feeling intimidated by the names and sizes of the heavy drinks. “If you want something lighter then you should order this.” You lowered the laminated page to see him pointing to a drink called ‘The Drunk Cinderella’. It was based on the mocktail, but with a shot of vodka to make it alcoholic. He showed you many more that you felt inclined to try as a waitress came over to greet you and take your orders. 

That was when you started to feel more and more adventurous with the menu. An Osaka Dry Cocktail, the classic Bloody Mary, a Long Island Iced Tea and a few more you didn’t recognize until you had already finished your glass. At one point Rosho had ordered you a plate of takoyaki to soak up some of the alcohol in your stomach. He had had beers of all kinds to contrast with your much prettier glasses of colorful cocktails. A tall Fat Tire, cans of chilled Asahi, Sapporo in a tall glass with ice, a few brown bottles of Minoh Beer (which the sight of the red monkey amused you) and more you had started to forget.

You and Rosho had gotten comfortable as you talked and drank. He had long ago discarded his blazer in the red vinyl seat and left the top two buttons of his black shirt undone. He told you about how he spent his days off, how he used to do comedy with his best friend, how sometimes he can’t stand his best friend, his love of pudding and many other assorted sweet things, and even how his students sometimes tease him. “I think the kids are silly, they pick on me sometimes too. I promise you aren’t alone.” You slurred, stifling a hiccup as you pulled your empty cocktail glass closer. Smiling to yourself when you noticed it was empty. “I mean, I got so many chocolates from my students during White Day, I’m sure they were assuming I was fond of candy.” You pouted as Rosho started to frown. “If they waited until White Day then it wasn’t *hic* malicious.” The math teacher grumbled with a frown. “Why do you think I gave you chocolate too?” He asked with a frown appearing as he pointed the mouth of the brown beer bottle in your direction. 

“Roshoooo!~!” You called his name with a slur to your voice as laughter spilled past your lips. Not realizing you had used his first name so comfortably as the memory of him presenting you the White Day chocolate so long ago returned. He found it amusing and called back to you, your name dancing along his tongue like the most expensive bottle of sake the bar could offer. You liked how it sounded when he said your name. “Did you give me the chocolate as a friend?” You asked jokingly as his red cheeks became redder. “At first, yes.” He answered honestly with a hiccup following. “But I had gotten advice from a friend, he said I should go for it.” Rosho glanced down at the table and jabbed at the air in front of you with his bottle. “But you’re so damn intimidatin’! I would practice and look up things to say, but we always ended up sitting in silence! It pisses me off!” His volume raised for the first time that night. His expression became a grimace as he placed his bottle down on the table and you soaked in the truth of his words. 

Rosho had wanted to talk to you for a long time now. “You always look so pretty when you come to school and when you leave. An’ you always smell good… Everyone likes ya’ and I don’t like the idea of another co-worker askin’ you out. So that’s why I tried to work up the courage to talk to ya… I jus’ got too nervous.” He scoffed as you patiently listened. You could almost picture a stern-faced Rosho chasing away the other male teachers during lunch time before he would come in to eat with you in your familiar, comfortable silence. 

A warmth stirred pleasantly through your entire body. It could be the alcohol. It could be the overwhelming feeling of your crush becoming more. “Mr. Tsutsujimori… I have a secret to tell you.” You admitted sweetly as Rosho tilted his head curiously. “Well hurry an’ tell me!” He grumbled as you waved him closer with your hand. “You can’t tell anyone, okay?” You whispered as he leaned over the table to hear you better. “I *hic* won’t.” He muttered as you moved in close, holding back a series of giggles threatening to spill past your lips. “Even though you’re intimidated by me…” You trailed off and cupped your hands over his ear. Your warm breath tickling his ear, and unknowingly causing his heart to pound against his ribs.

“Even so… I do like you, Mr. Tsutsujimori.” You whispered softly with a sheepish smile. You pulled away and grabbed onto your cold empty cocktail glass for comfort. You reveal your secret to Rosho Tsutsujimori. The socially awkward math teacher you wanted to get closer and closer to. It turned out he had wanted to get closer to you as well. 

Rosho’s hand went to cover his face, and he peeked over at you through the cracks in his long fingers. “I see how it is…” He mumbled into his palm before shaking his head. “I… I feel the same… Even if we haven’t spoken much…” He slurred with a stern look making its way onto his face. “I wanna know everything about you.” Rosho growled as you felt a familiar stir within you. 

Something about the situation was starting to feel dangerous. 

“Ahhh… We should do this again sometime… But it is getting pretty late.” You cooed nervously while tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. The math teacher quickly called for the waitress to return and bring the check. You leaned over the edge of the cushion and glanced back, hoping to spot the young lady as you grabbed your purse. You instead spotted a pair of men in a booth not too far from yours. One was wearing a large fur coat, his back facing you. And the other was hiding behind a drink menu. But you could see the top of his head layered in teal hair and he was wearing a very colorful suit. They looked familiar somehow. But the alcohol made it hard for you to pinpoint how exactly you knew them. They were old enough to be here, so they couldn’t be students. 

The check was taken care of (Rosho insisted through slurred words that he pay) and you clung to him as he led you out of the cozy little bar. It was late, but not so late that you would miss the last train. You felt warm all over, and you desperately wanted to be closer to Rosho. In more ways than one. He sat beside you, the train was desolate other than an elderly woman not too far from the both of you. It took off, and the two of you entered a silence that was much more intense than anything in the past.

You listened to the good ideas and the bad swirling through your alcohol filled brain. You did want to get out of the bar with Rosho. But you didn’t want to leave him tonight. Not yet. You gently pulled at the math teacher’s sleeve. You felt really warm. He looked down at you, his vermillion eyes soft as he leaned in closer for you to whisper. You were far too drunk to text him what you desired. You weren’t sure if you were confident enough to do such a thing. 

“Can I come home with you?” 

You were sure his heart skipped in his chest as he remained still, your hands still clutching his sleeve. “Are you sure?” He asked softly and you nodded swiftly. You didn’t want to go back to your apartment tonight. It could be the alcohol in your system that was making you brave. Or it could be the fact Rosho had openly admitted to wanting you as much as you wanted him. But you couldn’t end the night crashing into your bed alone and waking up to a hangover. 

Rosho was silent as he leaned away from you with a hand covering his reddened face. Before you both knew it, the robotic voice was calling your stop and its upcoming arrival. When the train slowed to a halt your shoulders sagged. Your stop was here. You moved to stand with a sadness settling in your heart. Before you could take Rosho’s silence as rejection, he reached over and pulled you by the arm. It was a silent instruction for you to sit back down. You were still, listening to the mechanical voice call your stop three more times before the doors slid shut. Rosho would indulge your less than innocent request.

You would be going home with him instead. 

Tagged Accounts: @sugarcookiesheep

[littlemissmanga]

I decided to be sneaky sneak and go anon 👀

Hello Ms. Yen! I was wondering who you'd pair me with for Valentine's day 🥰

Likes: Art, Knitting/Crochet, Movies, Constant music playing (my life needs a soundtrack), candy, History, driving my friends crazy (lovingly), noodles 😫💜, cuddling and being cozy

Dislikes: mean-aggressive behaviour, partying, veggies, silence, the dark, my thassalophobia 💀🤣, scary movies!

I tend to put a lot of care into my loved ones (friends, family, etc) and try my best to make them happy. I hate when they're upset and will dive in right away to hug them and bring them comforting things. I can be very loud, giggly and bubbly but I can also be very quiet, withdrawn and shy. It really depends on how comfortable I am around an individual but also if I'm in a depressive spell. I have a small to negative tolerance for people being jerks to myself or to my loved ones. Will fight for them on a dime. (Also am totally willing to throw down if someone touches my wheelchair or mobility aid) But I'd rather be happy and cozy and loving than fighting...I just get protective of my ppls 😅

Thank you for your time and I hope you've been having fun doing these lovely matches! The Troops are lucky to have someone like you finding them matches for such a romantic day

😘💜💜💜

P.s.

If you haven't figured me out, it's @moonlightwarriorqueen 🤣

Again, thank you💜

Yen Ori'ken's Valentine's Day Matchmaker Services

Yen: I appreciate the flattery, but I also have to give credit to the full team over at Right to Love. The men of the GAR have their mission, we have ours and we're just as dedicated to it!

But in any case, @moonlightwarriorqueen, thank you for sending in your profile! I believe your match is likely ...

Commander Thorn of the Coruscant Guard.

Don't let the shock trooper title fool you, Thorn knows when it's time to work and when it's time to play. That's his whole motto - work hard, play hard. It may (or will, according to a note from Daria) give Commander Fox a headache from time to time, but Thorn's antics are always well intentioned, well controlled, and in good fun.

Your care for your loved ones and protectiveness of them rises to a level that Thorn previously only saw in his brothers. He's drawn in by that part of your personality and respects the hell out of it. He won't like you carrying all that negativity on your own, though. He'll always offer an ear for you to vent and get your plan of action straight (he will make sure that you do have a plan of action and help you organize your thoughts to better support yourself and others).

But if for any reason Thorn feels he needs to, he will absolutely step in to back you up. No one messes with you and if they're getting too fired up at you, then he will settle them down.

He definitely shares your love of history, though it'll take some adjustments to get him to focus on areas other than military history. Thorn isn't crafty himself, but he will wear any knitted/crocheted item you make for him with so much pride. He will be bragging to every single shock trooper and Senatorial aide he crosses paths with. (Fox is so close to asking you to stop so maybe a knitted mug cozy would be a nice gift for him, too).

He has a tiring job, so the idea of coming home to cuddle with you is heaven to Thorn. I believe an at-home movie night would be a perfect date for you. And don't worry, he'll pick up some fresh noodles and broth from your favorite place on the way over.

I hope you enjoy your date with Thorn, and thank you for writing in!

[bloodyquillink-blog]

David “Hesh” Walker x mermaid!Reader Imagine

A/N🪶: I have work I need to do for my intro to graphic design class but David Walker is taking over my mind so I’m just gonna write a bunch of shit I’ve been thinking about. Use this for fics or art or whatever if you wanna! Let me know if you’d like to see more of this.

Okay, first and foremost, David x mermaid!Reader. There, I said it. You know this man would be so curious and gentle and sweet, wanting to learn more about the underwater life and maybe teach you some (good) things about his life on land like fruits and other foods. If you like salty fish, he’d probably try to bring a can of sardines or something. If you aren’t into fish—which is okay because this is reader and reader needs options— he’d try bringing fermented veggies like pickles with the brine and everything.

I think Hesh would want to see you try sweets and candies, but he’d also want to keep you away from unhealthy foods that might hurt your stomach. Plus, if anything happens to him and he can’t deliver you sweets, how will you get them? You need your snacks!

He’d try to practice holding his breath for long periods of time so he doesn’t have to worry about wasting oxygen tanks— and possibly risk exposing your existence. If you’re a “Little Mermaid” type mer-person or have gills (I say they’re in your neck), maybe you’d kiss him before he breaches the surface so he knows he can keep swimming with you.

Speaking of swimming, this man keeps flippers on him. Hesh wants to try to swim faster and keep up with you, of course, but even he needs a little help sometimes. If he ever forgets the flippers, you just take him by the hand, or better yet, you put your chest to his back and wrap your arms around him as you swim. More comfortable for both of you… plus you can definitely feel how fast his heart is beating being this close to you.

The first other human he introduces you to would def be Logan. I think both brothers are great swimmers and depending on the AU, Logan may need help being comfortable swimming again after almost drowning and getting crushed and hit with sonar with Keegan. Logan would also occasionally bring snacks and may even start fishing. I think he’d want to learn about the kinds of places you stay around and would want to try to help clean up some of the garbage and parts from destroyed ships and planes from the war definitely not because he thinks the parts would look cool as decoration.

Eventually, one of the other Ghosts would get curious and follow David to see where he’s going on all of his breaks. My guess would be Keegan or Kick as Merrick is too busy or doesn’t care as long as Hesh doesn’t get killed or kidnapped. Maybe both of them follow Hesh and see him sitting near the water on the docks. Right when they’re about to approach, you hoist yourself up. The two men can’t believe what they’re seeing. A fucking mermaid. What the hell kinda parallel universe did they stumble into (It’s an alternate universe, boys, get it right)?!

What’s even crazier is when they see Hesh hold your face in his hands and gently kiss your nose. Your smile, with a bunch of sharper-than-a-normal human teeth, shows. You both turn to look at them staring wide-eyed.

“This is what happens when you don’t mind your business.” Hesh says.

He introduces you and you simply wave at them. Later, when they try to explain what happened to Merrick, suddenly they have to get a psych evaluation and drug test. When they try to get Logan to help them explain, Logan just shrugs at Merrick. Hesh simply laughs to himself watching this happen. Though, his clothes are partially soaked. The “what if?” part of Merrick’s mind takes over more than he’d like to admit. It’s not until Hesh shows a photo of the two of you that Merrick decides to see you for himself.

Lo and behold, there you are. Colorful and cheery. No wonder Hesh has been so happy the past couple weeks. While you initially find Merrick to be scary, you warm up to him quickly.

And now Merrick has to apologize to Keegan and Kick for not believing them. All the while, you and Hesh watch the stars as you lay on the beach. Hesh uses every story of the constellations Logan and Elias have ever talked about, only having to discreetly search his phone once or twice.

The End.

I hope you enjoyed my daydreams.

[bailey-the-narrator]

WRITING FIC AGAIN WAHOOOOO

This is based on @insomniphic's Celebrity AU, introducing: Bailey as a celebrity chef!

“YOU FUCKING ASS, WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT CUTTING THE LETTUCE??!?”

Bailey sighs, his concerned eyes watching his Head Chef yelling at a poor Garde Manger who accidentally cut the vegetable not thin enough. He nudges Stanley a bit, letting him know to tone it down a bit, but all he gets is a sharp glare from the other. So he, unfortunately, has to let Stanley do his thing while he slowly collects the lettuce scraps and puts them in the vegetable scrap container.

Well, it’s been a part of his life as an Executive Chef in a five-star hotel, with the whole hotel’s restaurant becoming his playground to explore his vast creativity in food. The owner has been so kind as to let him do whatever he wants as long as it brings him profit in the end. Bailey doesn’t mind it at all.

His train of thought snaps when he feels a hand on his shoulder, and he tenses up, immediately throwing a look at whoever that is before his gaze finally softens at the sight of Mariella, the restaurant’s head waitress. Her expression can be described as frustration. “Chef, a guest wants to talk to you.” Her head gestures toward the opening gap between the kitchen and the dining hall, where he can see guests in front of the bar. “Table 5 is an influencer. She wanted meatless steak and kept insisting we have that as a secret menu here.”

The chef pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing again. “We don’t have meatless steak as a secret menu. We never have a secret menu in the first place.” God, he hates social media influencers so much.

“Exactly. Now tell the guest to shut up for me. I’ll call security in case things go south.” And Mariella takes off before he can stop her, leaving him behind in his increasing anxiety. Dealing with customers isn’t his strong suit, but alas, he often needs to do this as the face of the restaurant and the one who wrote most of the menu and recipes.

But Stanley would fuck it up. He’s too harsh for the guest, and Mariella would chew him out, so he can’t let his assistant do it either.

Yeah, he doesn’t have any choice other than to face her straight on.

He walks out of the kitchen, pulling out the cap that he wore and letting his messy black hair bun out. Blue eyes scan the dining area, spotting the target almost immediately due to a small phone tripod standing right on the table, where it most likely records the woman that sits right in front of it, waiting for someone.

“Excuse me, miss.” Bailey doesn’t waste any more time. He wants to do this fast. “My name is Chef Johnson, and I’ve heard from my waitress that you wanted to talk to me.”

The guest looks up at him, now pushing the phone tripod, camera lens pointing at him. “Yes, I heard from someone that you have a secret menu.” Her tone of voice sounds obnoxious and loud at the same time. He sees a few other guests turn their backs to see the ruckus.

“Apologies, but we never have a secret menu in the first place.” The first rule of customer service; apologise even when the guests are wrong. “We do have vegan options on the main course, like veggie curry and konjac fried rice-”

“Well, I know the owner. He told me about that menu in the first place.” She’s now half-yelling, getting attention from more patrons, making Bailey steps back subconsciously and slowly sink down mentally, feeling embarrassed. He knows she’s bullshitting. Mr Owner would’ve informed him a while ago to make her a different food.

“A good chef caters to every customer. A great chef wants to preserve their art in the food and not let people take the thing that makes it a part of you away.” 

Many eyes are watching him, putting pressure on the chef’s back, and his mind blurs out the woman’s continuous angry rant little by little until it’s nothing but echoes of blabs. He can feel his legs freezing in place, despite his urge to run from the confrontation.

“Be selfish, goddamnit! Don’t let those sous chefs step on you!”

…Huh?

Bailey lets out a small chuckle. Even when he’s alone, Stanley still helps him in his thoughts.

“-and obviously, there’s a saying that customer is king, so-”

“Apologies, but I disagree with that saying.” The chef’s voice volume rivals the woman as his face darkens, and his submissive stance vanishes as he straightens up his back, eyes sharpening with malice. “You are in my restaurant, where my staffs serve you food.” He leans closer toward the guest, expression cold.  “I’d say that staffs are part of the government, and you’re just a mere plebeian.”

A sudden silence encapsulates the whole dining area, with Bailey seeming to be the villain on the other side of this story. “You came here asking for something that does currently not exist in the menu that I wrote myself, and you brought the owner’s existence in this poor attempt of lying to back up your claim of the non-existent menu.” He swears he can smell the fear of the trembling patron in front of him. “You brought up the comparison between you and a head of a monarchy who doesn’t have much power in both political and government works in these modern days. You fucked up on that part, miss.”

The offended look on that woman’s face brought a slightly satisfied smirk to his face. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.” From the corner of his eyes, he sees Mariella and a couple of security guards approaching. Guess it’s time for a farewell. “You’ll be temporarily banned from this restaurant for a year or until you change your behaviour in treating restaurants like they’re your servants who’ll grant all your wishes.” He puts up his usual customer service smile. “Thank you, and goodbye.”

Bailey quickly turns around and leaves, letting Marielle with the rest of the problem, wiping the cold sweat on his forehead. The duty is over, and now he can return to his primary task.

He’s one inch away from banning influencers from the restaurant.

————

CAMEO (Luke by @corvidcrows and Narry by @insomniphic):

Ever so often, when the restaurant is closing up, Bailey and some staffs still stay inside together to talk. Some talks were about the guests, the other staff, or sometimes even accidents in the kitchen.

“Wh- TV show?” Bailey hesitantly points at himself. “Me? Got invited to a talk show?” And Mr Owner gives another firm nod, confirming his point. “Why? What did I do?”

Mr Owner gives a shrug. “Dunno. But I got a call from the TV station asking for you.”

His Patisserie, Bucky, grins from ear to ear. “That’s so cool, holy shit!” He jumps off of the counter and gently shakes the Executive Chef. “Mention my Twitch channel, please, so I can get famous too!”

The younger staff gets a shove from a very agitated Stanley, acting as the older man’s protective guard. “No, no touchy the chef. He doesn’t like sudden touches.” The Head Chef proceeds to hit him with a newspaper, albeit not too hard, and the Patisserie giggles.

“I think the TV host's name is Luke? He sounds…interesting.” Mariella shows her phone screens, showing a clip of what seems to be the mentioned man interviewing someone. “He sounds so stiff, but I think he’s alright.”

“In the meantime- Whoops!” Mr Owner pulls out a large box that has been sitting behind his back. “I got you something to wear at the interview because I know your closet is not fitting for any semi-formal wear.”

Bailey pouts, opening the box to see a pair of dark blue jeans and a hooded blue jacket with golden trims at the bottom and around the sleeves, neatly folded inside. The sight excites the chef, now babbling out of excitement as he wears the jacket. The jacket’s weight feels so right and baggy, and the fabric doesn’t make his skin itchy. The hood also covers the back of his head, and he feels a lot safer with the coverage.

“Aerrowpose has a lot of comfy designs, so I’d reckon you’d like that.” Mr Owner’s expression softens, fondly watching the chef’s giddy act. “I keep seeing the CEO wearing his own brand on TV, and I thought that if the chairman himself likes it a lot, then it’s the real deal.”

“Can I buy ten more of this?”

“No, Bailey, you can’t.”

[deedala]

🌿w e e k l y 🍄 t a g 🕯️ w e d n e s d a y🌙

thanks @darlingian for writing this week!! and thanks for tagging me @creepkinginc @energievie @metalheadmickey 💖💖💖

which character from any media would you like to have as a father?: oh hey yeah i am going to have to also say Bob Belcher. He is dad goals.

if money, laws, time, and effort were no object, what animal would you want to have?: im sorry i have a whole entire me and 2 kids to take care of i dont want anything else lmao

what is your Chinese takeout order?: veggie fried rice and veggie egg rolls!

what's your favourite emoji?: omg i dunno uhmmmm 💖 is probably up there!!

would you rather have a library, greenhouse, or home theater in your house?: okay i am a legendary plant killer but i would LOVE to be able to just hang in a greenhouse. thats my vibe. i just cannot be responsible for those plants ok

what childhood tv show do you think of the most fondly?: david the gnome!

what was your tumblr like when you first joined?: for a really long time my tumblr was just my silly little artworks, from like 2011 to late 2014. in 2015 it became more of my dragon age artwork and fandom blog. and then a few years ago i just started reblogging whatever the fuck i wanted. and well now its a whole mess huh. my beloved trash pile.

what clothing style do you love but don't feel compelled to replicate yourself?: cottage core and dark academia

if you were plopped into a fictional world, which one would you know the layout of the best?: Thedas hoo boy

what is your favourite piece of art?: hmmm birth of venus by william-adolphe bouguereau

do you have a water bottle? what does it look like?: aluminum cup with a straw style, its blue and green and has a leaves design on it

what fanfic trope is a quiet fave? uuhhh...i dont know if i have a quiet fav?

do you carry a daily bag? what does it look like? what's the weirdest thing in it?: lately its been an addidas black drawstring bag. i just dug through it and found absolutely nothing un-normal haha?? i guess the most uncommon thing in there might be the epi-pens??

If you had to ship Mickey with another Gallagher, who would it be?: what kind of choice is this?? im going to go ahead and be a cheater and say i BFF ship mickey with debbie

what is a fanfic trope you didn't expect to like and then very much did?: ack...again i dunno?? i just like all the basic things and i dont know enough about the other stuff? maybe i need to try more things that i think sound unfun lol

Do you think s11 Mickey can still carry s11 Ian?: lmao hes so inexplicably swole, yes absolutely

who got custody of the killing bat when they sold the house?: i want debbie to have that, she deserves it.

Okay here's some nuggets who i think might want to play!! @michellemisfit @too-schoolforcool @mickeysgaymom @heymrspatel @gallawitchxx @gardenerian @callivich @juliakayyy @mmmichyyy @jrooc @sam-loves-seb @crossmydna @suzy-queued @tanktopgallavich @lingy910y @transmickey @rereadanon @palepinkgoat @sickness-health-all-that-shit @suchagallabitch @thepupperino @sleepyfacetoughguy @tsuga-of-mars and also you person not tagged you can lie and say i tagged you as always i will corroborate~