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astroph1les · 18 days

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coffee & stumbles | e.e

summary: your first date with emily turns very tense when you run into your ex. luckily, you’re able to minimize your time with her when emily gets the hint that you weren’t comfortable.

here’s part one of this!

pairing: emily engstler x fem!reader

contains: fluff, mentions of past toxic relationship — manipulation, gaslighting, etc, readers ex is AWFUL, emily being protective and just the best </3

word count: 4.6K

a/n: ok so i’m obsessed with writing this. thank you guys for the support! inbox is open for more suggestions or ideas for future parts because tbh my mind is BLANK!

“You’re kidding! Ugh, I wish I would’ve been there to see you all flustered around her,” your best friend, Delilah, exclaimed as she laid her feet on your lap, prodding at your thigh with her sock-covered toes.

You shook your head at her words, covering your face with one palm. As soon as you got off of your work, you headed straight to your shared apartment with Dahlia. Her strawberry hair was in a messy low bun, a few strands falling to frame her freckled face as she held a pint of mint chip ice cream. She had your cat, Luna, curled up in a ball in her lap.

“Shut up. I was not that flustered.” You lie, digging into your own pint of cookies and cream ice cream.

“You’re a shit liar, dude,” she shakes her head, sighing softly.

You were about to snip back when you saw a message pop up on your phone screen that was just resting on the coffee table. You lean forward with a grunt to snatch it and hold up your phone to your face.

from: unknown | Hey, it’s Emily! I’m so so sorry I didn’t text you sooner.

Being the nosy person she was, Delilah sat upright and rested her head on your shoulder. With her wooden spoon dangling from her lips, she gasped dramatically.

“Is that hot, tall tattooed girl?” She grinned cheekily.

“Yeah, I don’t know what to say, Del,” you whine as you rest your head on hers.

“Just be yourself. She clearly liked what she was lookin’ at and hearing so,” Delilah pokes at your cheek with her pointer finger. “Come on. Get in that.”

You shush her comments as you type out a small message. You beam as Luna had creepily crawled over to your own lap, running a hand over her soft fur.

to: emily | hey! how are you?

“How are you? Say something else. More flirty.” Delilah demanded with another poke to your cheek.

“Shut up!” You sneer. “I’m getting to it.”

from: emily | I’m doing good. I’m sorry if this is weird but can I call you?

You both gasp at the message, turning to each other with wide eyes.

“Should I say ‘yeah?’” You question, thumbs hovering over the keyboard.

“Hello? Yeah! I wanna hear this sexy raspy voice of hers.” Delilah grins as she creepily leans over your shoulder.

You blush as you regret telling her in detail everything you could retain about Emily. You shouldn't, right?

No, you needed to. Her voice was lingering in her brain from the moment she opened her mouth. Like who sounds like that?

But you wanted to save the conversation for when you saw her.

to: emily | im kind of with my bestfriend rn im sorry :/

“What the fuck?” Delilah frowned as you sent the message.

“Del, I love you but I really do not want to have my first phone call with her with you around. I’ll act even more nervous and weird.” You hold her hand with a tight squeeze.

Delilah reluctantly agrees because she knows your right. As much comfort she gave you, this was new and you wanted to do this on your own. You were 22 with minimal dating experience — all your own fault you felt. Something as exciting as this — a charming woman approaching you of all people — is something you wanted to keep for yourself.

“Well, I know I’ll be able to hear her soon,” she winked playfully at you but her eyes showed her understanding of your wanting for this to be more private.

from: emily | No, don’t apologize. But I really can’t wait to hear and see you again. Let me know when you’re free to grab that coffee :)

You beamed at your phone and hurriedly typed a response.

to: emily | im free thursday morning if that’s good for you too!

from: emily | Sounds good to me. I’ve seen Mia’s on 56th and always wanted to go. I could pick you up or we could meet there. Whatever makes you more comfortable lol

How adorable is she?

“Uh oh. I think someone’s getting a little nervous, dude,” Delilah teases with a shit-eating grin.

“She’s being sweet,” you defend, shaking your head.

“Yeah, I know but that last ‘lol’ really gives her away.”

Maybe it was a bit of an ego boost to know you made someone like her nervous to see you again. Delilah was sure she was bursting with nerves.

to: emily | i’m fine with either. whichever is easiest for you:)

“Okay you two are the cutest. I already sense good things with her,” Delilah announced.

“Enough with your psychic predictions. It freaks me out, Del, you know that.”

Delilah came from a long line of women who were perceived to be ‘witches’ and ‘hippies’. She eerily enough was able to predict a lot of things that have gone either right or wrong since your friendship began in high school.

from: emily | I have no problem picking you up

That’s settled then. She was coming to pick you up on Thursday.

Oh, damn it. What the hell were you going to wear?

Thursday morning came faster than you expected.

The texts had been nonstop between the two of you. Emily had sent you a few pics of her outfits or meals that she was having. You hoped you didn’t seem as eager as you were in person over texts to get selfies from her. You showed Delilah one she took and she muttered ‘damn’ before nodding in approval.

It had been two days since you first met Emily but the time flew by. It even took you a second to realize that today was the day until Delilah bursted through your shared bathroom door, giddy and ready to help you get ready for the date. You groaned as she shook you slightly, nearly knocking your toothbrush out of your hand.

“Are you ready for your hot coffee date?” Delilah pressed a peck to your head, bouncing with joy.

“Del, I am on the verge of throwing up please.”

You rub at your forehead, feeling your anxiety-induced headache creeping its way to your temples.

“Oh. shit, sorry. Let me know when you’re ready to get dressed and I’ll help.”

You silently thank her as you brush your teeth, tilting your head as you examine your bare face. Internally, it was a battle between calling her and saying that you couldn’t make it due to a stomach bug.

Delilah was testing her psychic abilities and randomly blurted out, nearly shoulder checking you: “You are not canceling. Don’t even try it.”

You gasped and rubbed your shoulder, frowning as you spit out the foamy toothpaste.

“I wasn’t!” Your voice pitched higher.

God, you were awful at lying.

“Sure. I’m not letting you flake out. You need this. Plus, Luna needs another mommy,” Delilah teased, glancing down at the bathroom floor where Luna was brushing past your feet.

“What? We’re not enough for her?” You respond with an exasperated sigh.

“Uh, of course. But she knows her mom is a single mother and secretly wishes that she had another mom to take care of her when me, her aunt, isn’t here.”

You blink at her as you rinse off your toothbrush.

“Did she tell you this?” You snort.

“Duh. I’m a psychic and that includes being an animal one too.” Delilah states, shrugging her shoulders as she finishes up her morning face routine.

“I can’t believe you, Loonie. Shaming me for being a single mother?” You look down at her gray tail curling around your ankles.

Luna meows softly, tilting her head as her big green eyes stare up at you. She sits herself on the top of your bare foot, snuggling into your pajama pant leg.

“Alright, I forgive you but only because you’re so cute.” You preen, leaning down to scratch at the top of her head.

“Traitor.” Delilah scoffs as she applies her daily moisturizer and sunscreen. “But anyways, are you ready now?”

You lean down to pick up Luna who purrs a little as you move her into your arms. You place a few kisses on her head, feeling all the more relaxed.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

Delilah sucked in a deep breath, nodding curtly.

“Let’s get you lookin’ getting-coffee sexy.”

You shake your head at her words, thinking about how annoying she was but how much you loved her.

You and Delilah landed on a black and gray striped sweater with a pair of blue jean shorts and your favorite pair of docs with comfy socks so that the docs wouldn’t tear up your heels. Delilah beamed at the sight of you, pretending to wipe her eyes.

“God, you look beautiful. She’s going to fall in love,” she sighed dramatically as she brushed a few of your baby hairs out of your face.

You shake your head as your face heats up at her words. You sent Emily a text that you were ready when she was ready to which she responded with that she was on her way to go and pick you up.

“Should I, like, greet her at the door and ask her intentions with you?” Delilah hummed in thought as she picked up Luna and cradled her in her arms.

“Absolutely not. I’ll kick you in the back of your knee if you do that.”

Delilah frowned and shook her head. “Jesus, okay. I won’t.”

“Love you, though,” you scrunch your nose at her before scratching underneath Luna’s chin, watching her eyes shut slowly.

“Yeah, yeah, love you.”

The minutes passed steadily as you waited for a knock at the apartment door. You tried to distract yourself by checking to make sure you had everything you might need for the date: your wallet, keys, lip gloss, lip liner, oil blotting sheets, hand sanitizer, etc. Delilah put on Love Island as she ate her own breakfast and hot hazelnut coffee.

Next thing you knew, a few soft knocks came from your front door. You and Delilah’s necks snapped to each other before you both stood up from the couch. You shove her back a little as she holds her hands up in defense. You pointed a knowing finger at her before sucking in a deep breath, unlocking the three locks on the door.

You twist the knob and tug the door open to reveal Emily standin there with a kind smile on her face. She looked even better than what you remembered. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail and she had on a light gray hoodie with a pair of blue jeans. She looked so cozy and warm, you felt immediately at ease.

“Hi,” you sighed out, leaning against the door.

“Hi,” she grinned, tilting her head a bit at her. “You look beautiful.”

You try not to curl into yourself at the sound of her voice, feeling more than overwhelmed.

“Thank you. You look beautiful, too.” You reply and try not to sound like you were in love with her already.

Her eyes soften at your words and you swear her cheeks turn a light pink as she mutters a ‘thank you’.

“Well, uh, are you ready to go?”

“Yeah. I’m ready to go,” you grin, turning to shut your door to give Delilah one more panicked look.

She gives you two thumbs up and blows you a kiss with Luna’s paw. You turned to Emily as you shut the door completely, adjusting the strap of your purse.

“Is everything okay?” She wonders as she hesitantly turns towards the stairs of your complex.

“No, yeah. I’m okay. I think I’m just nervous,” you admit, brushing a flyway behind your ear.

Nervous was an understatement, if you were going to be completely honest. Your heart was beating rapidly against your sternum, your fingers twisting your fidget ring around.

“Oh, trust me. I am too,” she eases your worries and motions to the stairs, holding her tattooed hand out for you. “I mean, going on a date with a pretty girl is always nerve-wracking.”

You wanted to roll your eyes at how annoyingly charming she was but you hated (loved) how reassured you felt once she said that. You took her larger hand in yours, giving her a shy smile.

“You’re a little bit of a flirt, huh?”

Emily merely shrugged her shoulders as she led you to where she parked in front of your apartment complex.

“Trying to make you feel comfortable. I promise you have nothing to worry about,” her kind raspy voice soothes your nerves.

You nod as you follow her to her truck. She was right. There really was nothing to worry about. It’s a coffee date: a coffee date with probably one of the hottest women you’ve ever encountered. She opened the passenger's side door and helped you up and into it.

The second you sat down into the seat, you felt a wave of nausea flow over your senses. You repeatedly twist your ring, sucking in a deep breath as you examine the interior of her car. It was pretty clean if you were going to be honest. Yours looked like a garage sale in the backseat as you constantly forgot to go and donate stuff you didn’t want anymore.

Emily got into her driver's seat, pushing back her flyaways and shutting the door. She put her key into the slot and turned over her car to start. The screen popped up with the most recent song, the volume at a low.

“Shit, sorry.” She tapped on the screen with her middle finger, her pale cheeks turning a soft pink.

“No, I respect it. Our Song is a cult classic,” you purse your lips to hold back your chuckle.

She opens her mouth as she puts her truck in reverse, not knowing what else to say.

“Okay, honestly, I’m trying to learn it on guitar and listening to it a lot helps,” Emily admits as she turns to get out of your complex.

Your eyes widened as you couldn’t believe how endearing she is. You lean back comfortably into the leather seats, smiling to yourself.

“Well, I definitely need to hear it now. You can’t just tell me that.” You raise your brows, watching her palm flatten against the wheel to make a turn.

And she made driving attractive. Fuck, you were so screwed.

The whole drive was actually a lot more comfortable than you expected. Emily repeatedly glanced at you to make sure you were still okay. She even let you be in charge of the music which put you on the spot but you were successful on playing songs that she liked.

Or even pretended to like for your sake.

Now the two of you were now sitting down after placing your order with the person at the front. It was a bit packed but not too much to where you felt suffocated. You were sharing embarrassing stories and it felt so easy to talk to her. Her soft brown eyes invited you in to spill every secret that you had within you.

“I kid you not, he claimed to not have given me mono,” you said through soft giggles, shaking your head. “I told him I got it and he basically said that it wasn’t possible because he didn’t have it.”

“Is he a dumbass? That’s exactly how spreading mono works.” Emily questioned as she covered her mouth with her fingers, letting her own little laugh escape.

“I think so, honestly. Thankfully, that was, like, 5 years ago and it was my first and last date with a man.” You sighed out, brushing your hair behind your ear.

As your giggles died down, a waitress brought over your coffees and breakfast. You thank her as does Emily, looking at your plate of avocado toast with a side of eggs. She had gotten the same thing but with an extra side of eggs.

“Does everything look good?” She asked as she picked up her fork, about to dig into her eggs.

“Oh, yeah. I am starving.” You immediately pick up the toast to take a hefty bite.

Emily’s eyes stared at you from across the table as she grabbed the tobasco to drizzle over her medium eggs. You pause your movements as you stare back at her, suddenly aware of how fast you were eating.

“What?” You reply, setting the toast down and covering your mouth so that she couldn’t see the chewed-up mess in your mouth.

“Nothing. You’re cute is all,” she shrugged her shoulders and poked at broken eggs before shoving a piece into her mouth.

You froze and felt the blood rush into your cheeks. You had gotten another glance at her tongue piercing, now knowing that you didn’t just imagine that the first time the two of you met.

“Shut up,” you murmur, digging into your own eggs. “When did you get that tongue piercing?”

Her eyebrows raised like your question wasn’t one she received often.

“I’ve had it for about two years now, I think. Why?”

“I like it,” you dig back into your food, hoping your flushed face wasn’t giving away your own dirty thoughts.

Emily squinted her eyes for a second at you before shaking her head with a soft laugh. Before you could ask her another question, you catch a glimpse of a familiar face. Your expression falters for a moment but you shake your head, telling yourself that it couldn’t be.

“So, where do you work at? You obviously know where I work,” you chuckle, staring at her intently.

Emily’s figure tenses a bit but she straightens her back, clearing her throat.

“Well, I’m a professional basketball player. I play for the Washington Mystics.” She sounded hesitant to tell you but more relaxed once you simply smiled back at her.

“What the hell? That’s so cool,” you stare at her, tilting your head. “Have you always wanted to be a basketball player?”

“Actually, no. I used to get told I’d make a great lawyer because I like to argue so I was set on that for a bit.” She chuckled.

“My dad used to tell me the same thing. We just but heads a lot.” You shrug, twisting around the straw of your empty iced coffee.

“Did you want a refill?” Emily questioned, noticing your fiddling.

Now that she had mentioned it , you did want more. You knew it was pushing your caffeine intake but you were craving it.

“Yeah but I’ll get it. You already paid,” you pointed at her.

The two of you had shuffled to get your cards out but Emily was quicker than you were. You had sighed out when she handed the person at the register her card, watching her grinning charmingly.

Yeah, you weren’t complaining.

She held up both of her inked hands in defense.

“Okay, not gonna say it won’t again though so,” she smacked her plush lips against her teeth.

Again? She was already talking about seeing you again. You would be lying to yourself if that didn’t lift your spirits a bit.

“I’ll take your word for it. I’ll be right back. Did you want anything to go?” You question as you stand up from your seat.

Emily glanced down at her empty plates and shook her head, looking at you with gentle eyes.

“No, thank you. I’m okay, pretty girl.” She threw a very subtle wink in your direction, taking a sip of her own nearly finished coffee.

You nod and mutter a ‘no problem’, turning away before she could see how flustered you were over her sweet words. You walk up to the counter and ask for an iced vanilla latte to-go. The cashier tells you it’ll be a few minutes because of the low supply of grounds right now. You tell them it's fine and you’ll wait a little.

The cashier leaves towards the back room as you stand and examine the pastries they had on display. You were about to walk away too until you saw out of the corner of your eye a figure appear right next to you.

Oh, God.

No.

Oh, you’ve got to be kidding. You just needed to get a to-go coffee and she came up to the counter as well.

Okay, you can just ignore her. You don’t have to say a thing. Maybe she doesn’t even realize you’re standing right next to her. You didn’t even know you were holding in a deep breath until you heard the voice that almost ruined your entire view on relationships.

“Hey,” you hear from next to you.

You shut your eyes with a soft sigh, turning to your ex with a fake grin.

“Hey Andi.”

“That’s it? Just ‘hey’? I mean, come on. You’re not,” she paused and pointed at you, a cheeky grin on her face, “you’re not still pissed over us breaking up right?”

Your face drops as you clear your throat, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Not really, no. I’m just asking what do you want because I have to get back to—”

“Oh, what? Your little date? Yeah, I noticed.” She snorted, looking at you with obvious judgment.

You just stare back at her in disbelief. Something in you wanted to snap and yell at her but Emily was only a few feet away at your table, probably wondering what was taking you so long.

“God, you still have that weird ass fidget ring, huh?” She motioned to your antsy fingers, which caused you to stop entirely.

She always tried to claim your anxiety was an excuse not to do certain things or talk to her. You could feel your eyes watering at the memories of her accusing you of cheating, not wanting her, etc because you tended to not talk to her about everything. Funny how she was the one who felt that way.

“Hey, baby, is everything okay?” A familiar voice comes up from behind you.

You relax at the sound of Emily’s voice, sucking in a deep breath and blinking away the burning tears in your eyes.

Wait, baby? It took you a second to realize she was pretending to be your girlfriend in order to give Andi the hint to back up. Could she tell how uncomfortable you were? Has she been watching you from your table?

“No, yeah. Sorry,” you glance at Andi who’s now looking Emily up and down with a hint of distaste.

“It’s okay,” her gentle voice told you, her soft hand resetting right on your lower back. “Who’s your friend?”

Her tone sharply changed when addressing Andi’s presence. Like she was trying to figure out who she was in relation to you. You open your mouth to reply ‘no one’ but Andi beat you to it.

“Andi.”

You felt so embarrassed by your ex’s behavior, you turned into Emily’s body. There was no way you were going to explain the backstory of this on your first date.

“It’s okay. Let’s just go, please,” you try to whisper as lowly as possible.

Emily nods at your words, taking down her tense, brooding attitude for a moment. She sends Andi probably the bitchiest smile you could ever imagine and you had to hold back your snort.

“Have a good one,” she replies once more, nodding curtly.

You turn away as you and Emily walk back over to your table, almost missing your ex’s bitter expression. You knew at this point that you were more than flushed; due to both embarrassment and Emily’s actions.

You grab your purse off of the back of the chair, turning to Emily with a long sigh and shake your head.

“I am so so sorry about that. That was so immature of her. I was trying to hurry too so hopefully you wouldn't see her or have to interact with her but she was just so—“

Emily reached forward to place her palm on your shoulder, brows furrowed in worry:“Hey, woah. It’s okay. It’s seriously not that big of a deal.”

“Really?”

Was that not as humiliating as you thought it was? Were you probably blowing the situation out of proportion?

“Yeah. It’s not like you wanted that to happen. I could see how… uncomfortable she made you. I’m sorry about that.”

Emily sounded so genuine with her apology. She did nothing wrong.

“It’s okay,” you wave her off, scoffing. “Do you mind if we leave now though?”

Emily grabbed her keys from the counter, nodding slowly: “Yeah, of course.”

“You’re sure?” You check once more as the two of you make your way to the entrance/exit doors.

“Yes. I promise, alright?” Emily was chuckling now.

You nod, pursing your lips so that you wouldn’t say anything else stupid. You stand side-by-side with the tall woman, your hands grazing against each other. Emily takes your hand in hers within seconds of leaving the place, her slightly rough yet warm palms engulfing your own. You glance at her with your peripheral, noticing her little grin.

The whole drive back to your place was quiet but content. This caused your own equally cheeky grin to spread on your face. When the two of you arrived at her truck, you turned to her with heart eyes.

“I wanted to say thank you for kind of jumping in. I thought I had it but clearly, I didn’t.” You sigh, covering your forehead with your free hand.

“You don’t have to thank me. It was nothing,” she gave your hand a squeeze, her eyes drifting to your lips.

You subconsciously do the same, blinking slowly.

“Well, I’m thanking you regardless,” you scrunched up your nose at her. “I did like you calling me ‘baby’ though. That was a nice surprise.”

Emily leaned against her truck to copy your own stance, rubbing her thumb over the length of your pointer finger.

“Yeah?” She smirked attractively.

You nod, looking up at her with anticipation. Was she getting your hint that you wanted her to kiss you? She must have as she began to lean into you more, tilting her body and head down.

You tilt your chin up to meet her in the middle, giving her hand a slight squeeze. You locked lips tenderly, the passing by sounds of cars and people making this all the more romantic to you. Her lips were even softer than you had imagined. Her free hand lifted up to cup your cheek to guide you a bit.

You were out of practice with kissing but it’s never been like this for you. You wanted more of her lips if that was even possible. You almost pulled away to tug in her closer but she beat you to it.

“Okay, maybe it wasn’t nothing,” she cheekily replied.

You squint your eyes at her before shoving her shoulder with a gasp. She laughs softly as you realize what she was referencing.

“Shut up. I regret kissing you now,” you lie straight through your teeth.

“Really? So you would hate it if I kissed you again?” Emily tilted her head at you.

“Now you’re twisting my words,” you point at her, feeling her palms rest on your waist.

“How about you think about it on the way back to your place?” Emily completely ignores you, teasing you still.

You huff as if you were pissed before sighing dramatically. You almost lost your train of thought when you felt her thumbs caressing at your clothed lips.

“Fine. I will.” You raise your brows at her, jerking your head towards her truck. “Come on so I can sit with my thoughts.”

You ended up doing a lot more thinking the whole drive to your place. And maybe once you were dropped off, a few more kisses and promises of many more dates after that.

You couldn’t wait for it.

tag-list: @uraesthete (i love u nell) COMMENT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST!

here’s part one! if you haven’t read it :)

#emily engstler #emily engstler x reader #emily engstler fic #washington mystics #wlw fanfic #wlw #lesbian #lesbian community #wnba #wbb

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darkbluekies · 24 days

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(Husband) Dr Kry & Hedwig drabbles: summer day activities

Yandere!doctor & yandere!richgirl

Warnings: none, this is probably as fluffy as you can come

Dr Kry:

For once, you are allowed out of the white edwardian villa and allowed to take a walk among society. Dr Kry is wearing a white linen shirt and a pair of sand colored shorts. His blonde hair is brushed back and over his eyes are a pair of sunglasses. Summer brings out a more laid back version of him.

"Hey, hey, come here", he says as you start to walk away from the car. "You need sunscreen."

He helps cover your face with it. He's careful with his fingers, making sure not to poke you in the eye.

He holds your hand as you start to walk. You walk through greenery, past wooden houses in red and white, and by harbors with sailboats. It seems like all of Sweden population is out at the same time because you pass by more people than you have seen in years. Everyone else wants to enjoy the sunshine. Dr Kry doesn't greet anyone as they walk pass, and neither do them. He gives them a small, awkward smile and moves you closer in case you're about to walk into to someone.

"Karl, can we buy ice cream?" you ask as you walk by a kiosk.

"Sure, what flavor do you want?" he asks and takes out his wallet from his pocket.

"Mango", you say excitedly. "I haven't tried that before."

Dr Kry orders from the woman behind the counter.

"You should take some too", you say. "Don't pick the coffee one, you always take that one."

He sighs and looks at the different flavors.

"And a salted licorice for me, thank you", he says.

"Come on ...", you mutter.

"Don't knock it til you try it", Dr Kry smiles over his shoulder.

He pays and thanks the woman behind the counter. He gives you your paper cup and a small plastic spoon. The mango ice cream is refreshing, reminding you of sorbet. You get to try ice cream from Dr Kry’s spoon and you cough at the salty taste. Dr Kry chuckles and takes a bite.

You take lunch at an old café. Kry picks up his phone and snaps a picture of you that he immediately puts as his lockscreen.

"Can we please do this again?"

Hedwig:

Her pool is the perfect temperature. The two of you are planning to spend the entire day out by the pool. Hedwig have bought a new pink bikini that's she had forced you to help find. It took her three hours to decide on one.

"I'm thirsty", you say and sit up on your sun chair. "Would be nice to have something to drink."

"Trudy!" she shouts.

A small, older lady comes out through the doors.

"Yes, miss Hedwig?" she asks.

"Couls you please bring us something to drink?" Hedwig wonders. "And please make sure there are lots of ice!"

The woman nods and walks back inside. You sit down on Hedwig’s chair, eventually laying down. She guides your head to her bare stomach where you rest your cheek on her burning skin. She plays with your wet hair.

"We're going out with the sailboat in two weeks", she says. "We're going to sail around the Mediterranean. I want you to come. It won't be fun without you."

Her "sailboat" could very well be a small yacht.

"I don't know", you mumble.

Her father scares the living hell out of you.

"Oh, come on, you have to!" she whines. "I won't go without you. It'll be fun. We will visit all sorts if places. You have to come."

Trudy returns with two glasses of lemonade and ridiculously many ice cubes. The two of you thank her and start to gulp it down.

"Y/N get up, let's swim", Hedwig says and taps your shoulder.

She brings out a floating ring and tries to climb into it. You push her into the pool, hearing her scream cut off.

"Fuck you, Y/N!" she coughs and hurries to swim to the ladder. "You have to let me push you in now-"

"No, no-" you try, but she grabs your arms with an evil giggle.

"In you go!"

You're pushed into the water and hear her laugh. Hedwig jumps in afterwards and hugs you under water, smiling widely. She kisses you quickly before diving.

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x reader #yandere drabble #yandere doctor #yandere rich girl #yandere female

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the-ultimate-tournament · 1 year

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las vegas VS wooden ice cream spoon

#tournament poll #bracket 2 round 1

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unitech6 · 9 months

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Wooden Ice Cream Spoon Manufacturers and Exporters in India

#Wooden ice cream spoon #wooden ice cream spoons #small wooden ice cream spoons #wooden ice cream spoons near me #wooden ice cream spoons manufacturer #Wooden ice cream spoon exporter #Wooden ice cream spoon supplier #wooden ice cream spoons manufacturer in india

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endelineinwonderland · 1 month

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Let The Light In: Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Words: 4k pour la finale.

Pairing: Paige Bueckers/Media Manager! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Friends to enemies (but the reader doesn’t know why they’re enemies), reader is actually so incredibly in the wrong, mention of an injury, the girls are fighting

It's her—actually her—, standing right in front of you, and for a brief moment you almost wonder if your mind had conjured up a hallucination to retaliate against the sheer force of your yearning.

You've spent more time than you’ll ever admit imagining this moment, playing it out in various scenarios in your mind, but the reality has a sharpness that no rehearsal could have prepared you for. Her presence is a tangible, overwhelming, a reminder of what you had, of what you had lost.

“Hey, you good?” She repeats, her voice cutting through your racing thoughts, pulling you back down to earth.

Blinking away the tears that are, embarrassingly, still brimming in your eyes, you take a deep breath before allowing yourself to reply. "Yeah, I'm good," the words feel hollow, a betrayal of the whirlwind of the emotion inside you.

Paige doesn't respond; instead, she slightly rocks back and forth on her heels, her hands nervously fidgeting as an all too familiar silence envelops the two of you. Wordlessly still, she reaches for the chair in front of you and pulls it out, the both of you wincing at the loud screech it makes as it drags across the wooden floor.

You don’t bother to hide the shock on your face as the blonde sits down across from you, her knees briefly brushing against yours before she swiftly tucks her legs to the side, avoiding your touch.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," her tone unusually light—almost friendly, which would be confusing if you had the ability to take note of it. The only thing you can focus on is the familiar cadence of her voice, bringing back a flood of memories, each one sharp, sweet, and painful.

“I feel like I have.”

____

“I hope we’re still doing this when we’re 80.” You say, grabbing another spoonful of her strawberry ice cream and plopping the pink desert into your bowl of cherry, mixing the two together before putting the spoon back into your mouth, letting out a satisfied hum when you confirm you’ve finally gotten the perfect mix. Paige chooses to ignore how much you’ve taken out of her bowl, knowing that when you get full in a few minutes the remainder of yours will be scraped back into hers.

“Doing what?”

"Ice cream Thursdays, dummy," you clarify, abandoning your spoon just in time to catch a melting drop threatening to fall from her chin onto her shirt with the pad of your thumb. Pressing your finger against your lips to lick it clean.

She watches you, gaze shifting to the table when your eyes dart up to look at her again. “When we’re 80 you’ll probably be taking pictures of your husband and grandkids playing in your garden or something all cutesy and shit, you won’t be thinking about me.”

Ignoring the confusing pang in your chest when you hear her dismissal you lightly kick her shin under the table, “Oh come on, we’ll still be best friends when we’re 80, if anything I’ll be taking pictures of the grandkids playing basketball and you’ll be trying to keep up with them in your walker.”

This gets a chuckle out of her, “hopefully by then I’ll know better than to do anything but coach.”

You smile, pushing the now half empty dessert towards her for her to finish before leaning towards her, “okay then, I’ll be taking pictures of the grandkids with coach P.”

She digs into the remainder of your cherry strawberry mixture, bringing the spoon to her mouth before shaking her head and adding another spoonful of strawberry, “fine, but if we’re 80 and you still haven’t figured out how to get the right cherry strawberry mix, I’m canceling ice cream Thursday’s.”

____

Her smile fades a bit, replaced by a more cautious expression as she changes the subject, the friendly façade faltering a bit as she speaks. “You know, you’re still sharing your location with me.”

"What?”

“I wanted to find you and I realized you still share your location with me.”

"You wanted to find me?” you echo. The part of you that's been hoping for this moment at war with the part that's been dreading it.

"Yeah, I needed to see you.” You hear her sigh, debating whether to continue, “thought we could talk."

The sincerity in her tone is disarming, and despite the hurt, a part of you wants to lean into the familiarity of her presence, to the shared history you’re still desperately clinging too.

"Talk?"

She nods, swallowing hard. “About the pictures you took the other day…” She begins, her voice trailing off briefly as she looks away from you, her hands fidgeting slightly, “Charlie sent me copies of them.”

“Oh, she’s not supposed to do that, you guys only get the final edits,” the words slipping out before you can think better of it.

"I know, but I asked her too.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“-I wanted to see the ones Leo told you to stop taking.”

You sit there in stunned silence. And, after a moment that stretches on for longer than you would have liked, she exhales, shoulders sagging. “I don’t know why I reacted like that, with the first shots I mean. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble with Leo. I know how much his opinion means to you and I had been thinking that if you got me lectured by Geno I’d want an apology, so… yeah” she finishes

An un-familiar coldness washes over you as you digest her words. This isn't what you thought was happening, she was deviating from the script you had imagined, and essentially memorized by now with how often you replayed it in your head.

“That’s what you want to apologize for?” You’re unable to keep the shock and anger from seeping into your tone. You lean back in your chair, arms crossing, subconsciously trying to protect yourself from the hurt you know she’s about to make you feel again.

“That’s all I have to apologize for.”

The tension between you crackles, a palpable energy that draws an invisible wall, furthering the separation between the two of you.

"You think that's it?" Disbelief coloring your tone. "After ghosting your best friend and making Azzi come tell me not to talk to you anymore, that's what you think you need to apologize for? Getting me in trouble with Leo?"

She looks taken aback, perhaps not expecting your reaction to be so intense. For a moment, she is silent, her eyes darting away before meeting yours again, this time with a mixture of frustration and pain.

"Come on, we were never even really friends.” She speaks softly, tone bordering on patronizing.

You can’t blink back the tears as they form in your eyes now, 'this isn't going to end well'.

“Don’t lie to me Bueckers.”

Paige recoils slightly, as if your words are physical blows. For a moment, she seems to be struggling with something, then her posture stiffens, an accusing finger reaching out to point at you as she doubles down on her statement as everything seems to escalate quicker than you're able to process it.

“We both know that I was just your muse or whatever the hell you want to call it. You did not treat me like a friend, you used me to get praise from Leo and whoever the hell else you thought you needed approval from. You took me for your art when I was at my lowest, again and again, just because my face got your work attention.”

The accusation stings, not just because of its intensity, but because part of you knows there's some truth in it. You've always known how compelling she was in front of the camera, how her expressions could turn simple photos into art, and you loved it.

Before everything fell apart, the two of you had become something of a dynamic duo. Everywhere Paige went, often for basketball, you followed, and everywhere you went, a camera was almost always hanging around your neck.

The passion Paige had for her sport and the passion you had for your art is what originally brought the two of you together, bonding over the drive each of you had to constantly be your at your best, for better or for worse.

____

It was your freshman year. You had just been offered a coveted spot on the UConn sports media team after your photojournalism professor, Leo Howard, had apparently spent the entire semester showing your work to his collogues who had unanimously agreed, you were going to be something special. Being the only freshman to ever have been allowed to serve as the lead photographer at the school’s games was a big deal. The pressure not fully weighing down on you until the night before the UConn, Notre Dame women’s basketball game.

They had started you out small, tennis, water polo, even a soccer match as your superiors had gained more confidence in you. But this would be the first big event you’d shoot, your first chance to really prove yourself, to prove that Leo was right about you.

The clock had just struck midnight when you made your way across campus, having given up on trying to get any sleep earlier in the night. Opting instead to head to the athletics department gym where they had allowed you to stash away your things in a small, abandoned office room. Assuming that'd be better than staying cooped up in your dorm all night.

When you arrived, instead of being greeted by the silent gym you’d anticipated, a woman was stood at the half court line, a basketball bouncing up to meet her outstretched palm before being pushed down, again, again, again.

“The gym’s closed.” Her voice calls out to you, finally noticing you as you made your way across the court, heading for the office door.

You had lifted your UConn Staff lanyard up to show to her, “I could tell you the same thing.”

She approached you, your height difference becoming more apparent the closer she gets until she’s fully towering over you, “I don’t remember seeing you around here.”

“I’m the new photographer, I just started last month.”

This explanation apparently does little to clarify your sudden appearance in her court, “okay, but you’re not supposed to be here, it’s late.” She points out, her tone mixing curiosity with a hint of concern.

“I know but I’m shooting my first big event tomorrow and I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d just come here and look at some old shots and stuff, prepare you know?” you rambled, hoping to justify your presence in the gym at such an unusual hour.

You’ve gotten her attention now, “Oh, I have a game tomorrow, is that what you’re here for?”

You had of course, assumed she was on the basketball team when you saw her dribbling the ball earlier. But as when she had moved to stand in front of you, you immediately recognized her as the infamous Paige Bueckers, the star player you’d been specifically ordered to get good shots of during this game.

"Yes, that's exactly it. I’ll be covering the game," you confirmed, feeling a slight relief as she seemed to recognize your role and accept the reason behind your late-night visit.

“Oh, cool, I guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow then?”

You nod in response, “yeah, I guess you will.”

She gives you a small smile before beginning to walk back to her original position on the court, “I’m Paige by the way!” She calls out as you reach the door, you turn back, shouting your name out, already anticipating the next time you’d get to see her.

As it turns out, you don’t have to wait long. Barely 30 minutes have passed when you’re interrupted by a knock on your door, “hey,” she lets herself into the small office space, taking a seat on your desk.

“Hey?”

This girl has guts you can’t help but think. You’d just met and now she’s propping herself up on your furniture, uninvited. And you’d probably be a lot more bothered by her behavior if you weren’t so distracted by how pretty she looked, even under the glow of the notoriously unflattering florescent office lights.

“I was thinking, you need to practice shooting basketball games, and I’m just practicing shooting so if you wanted you could take pictures of me, you know, to get the hang of it.” She offers.

“Oh, yeah that actually sounds great!” You're unable to keep your excitement about getting to spend more time with her entirely out of your voice when you reply; grabbing your camera bag as she moves off your desk to stand back up, holding the door open before following you back out to the court.

“Honestly I’m kinda tired so I’m only doing free throws but feel free to take whatever pictures you want.”

You nod, taking her words to heart, the clicks of your camera mingling with the pounding of the ball on the floor as you take picture after picture after picture.

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to fall into a steady rhythm, occasionally daring to interrupt the other’s focus with questions, jokes, or quick quips about the others work.

The next day whenever she gets a basket, her eyes turn to you first, pointing at your camera for you to get a shot, and every time she does, you take it.

You’ve never seen Leo smile so big as he does when he gets your contact sheet.

The “You did good, kid. I hope to keep seeing more stuff like this.” echoing in your mind when you leave his office, calling Paige, “when’s the next time you can shoot?”

She had left practice the second she heard your voice over the phone, “I can be free now.”

____

You’re abruptly pulled from your memory by the chime of the café door. A group of girls enters, their laughter and chatter filling the air. One girl stands out, wearing a stark white jersey with the number 5 displayed prominently across her chest. The sight of it jolts you back to the present, a reminder of where you are and what’s at stake.

'Fuck this is bad.'

“Paige we can’t do this here” you say keeping your voice low, sensing that this may not end well, and as Paige had just mentioned, any picture of her ends up everywhere, and if captured, this probably wouldn’t be a pretty one.

She exhales sharply, her lips parting to argue, but then she pauses, her gaze shifting to follow yours, brows raising when she sees her lucky number 5 on the chest of a brunette who is now whispering with her friends, looking Paige's way. With a reluctant nod, she chooses silence, perhaps unable to concede that you might be right.

The two of you don’t make it far, your new location being her parked car that had been right outside. You assume the two of you will drive somewhere but the second the doors lock she’s turned back to you, brows raised in anticipation of your still pending rebuttal.

You take a deep breath, struggling to find the right words to express the mix of anger and hurt that's been simmering inside you since you first heard her pathetic attempt at an apology 10 minutes ago. “Let’s get one thing straight, if I wasn’t your best friend, you most certainly were not my ‘muse’.”

The sharp sound of her laughter interrupts you, “okay then, you were just using my face to further your career and you didn’t give a single fuck about me.”

Your anger pulses hotter at her laughter.

If you had thought the silence between you two was bad, then this must be hell. Everything she says, every expression she makes sends you spiraling deeper and deeper down. You don’t even want to look at her anymore, scared that if you catch her gaze again, the once warm and loving looks you remember her by will be permanently tainted by the pure and utter distain that seems to be consuming her now. You want to reach out, to say something that will mend the rift, but fear and doubt hold you back. In this moment, you realize just how fragile your connection has become, teetering on the edge of collapse.

"I wasn't using you," you assert firmly, struggling to keep your voice level. "Yes, you've helped my career—that's undeniable. But that was never the only thing you were for me. Our friendship, what I thought was our friendship, meant more to me than any photo ever could."

Paige's laughter fades, and she looks at you, her expression hardening as she processes your words.

"It didn't feel that way to me," she shoots back, her voice tight. "Every time you needed something for your portfolio or an exhibit, who did you turn to, not any of your other friends, me. Don’t you think that’s a little strange.”

The accusation stings, God she really knew nothing about you, did she?

“I reached out to you because I thought you liked it. Every time I took something you posted it, on media days you always requested me specifically, even when we were freshman and there were people who knew much more than I did, so don’t try to delude yourself, we both benefited from this. But at least I was under the impression that we liked spending time together, that it wasn't all just so I could get more praise for my pictures.”

She stares at you, her expression blank, as if your words are too much for her to process.

"You actually need to just leave now," her hand reaching to unlock the car doors while she motions for you to exit.

'She's scared, back down, stop this while you still can.' You think, but emotion takes over before you can stop yourself.

“No," you reply appalled, "you can't just kick me out because I made a good point.”

She lets out a dismissive scoff, her hands moving to grip the steering wheel tightly, knuckles white with tension. "This is my car and I’m asking you to leave.”

Your eyes narrow feeling a sudden surge of familiar desperation. “You’ve walked away from me once, I’m not about to let you do it again. If you really thought I was using you, why on earth would you continue agree to every single shoot for 2 years? Even if you don't think I do, I know you, you wouldn't have done that. So why are you really shutting me out Paige?” You press, watching her closely. Your heart pounds in your chest, each beat echoing your fear of losing her for good.

She just stares at you, her gaze cold and unwavering, each of you refusing to be the one to break eye contact with the other.

She diverts her gaze, her eyes finally falling away from yours. Staying silent for a full minute before she straightens up, seemingly gathering her composure, and shifts the conversation topic away from her wrongdoings and back to yours.

“Intentions don’t matter anymore. Actions do. And your actions have shown me exactly where I stand in your life. Tell me again, what's your most famous photo, huh?"

It's a low blow, and it doesn’t take long for you to catch onto what she’s talking about. The two of you have had quite a few viral moments but one far surpassed the other. There was only one picture that had landed a coveted cover spot on the headlined article on ESPN, a place in CNN’s ‘This Week in Pictures’ and internship offers from all the way in New York to L.A.

____

She had crumpled to the ground, clutching her knee in agony, silencing the crowd in an instant. Her teammates had quickly formed a barrier around her, protecting her. Through a narrow gap between them, her eyes, wide and brimming with pain and vulnerability, darted around frantically until they finally locked onto yours.

It was a look of pure, raw emotion—a silent plea for comfort, for reassurance, for the familiar presence that had always been her anchor. Her hand reached out, trembling, as if by some miracle, your touch could erase the pain. And in that moment, as she reached desperately towards you, almost mechanically, you lifted your camera.

The weight of it felt heavier than ever before. Looking through the viewfinder, you saw her in perfect focus, every detail of her suffering magnified. Her eyes, filled with a mixture of hope and despair, seemed to question your every move.

As you pressed the shutter, capturing the raw, gut-wrenching moment, a pang of guilt surged through you. The image was powerful, a testament to her strength and vulnerability, but it came at a cost.

Lowering the camera, you were left standing there, the echo of the shutter still ringing in your ears. You wanted to drop everything and run to her, but the moment had passed. The damage was done. Her eyes, now filled with a sense of betrayal, lingered on you before she turned away, her teammates closing ranks around her once more.

____

You gape at her, a million thoughts running through your mind, none of them coherent enough to form a sentence. You thought about this picture frequently; its creation was instinctive, driven by a reflex that you hadn't fully understood even as you pressed the shutter. You’d always (foolishly) assumed that she had known that you never meant for the photo to get out. It was a mistake, a lapse in judgment, a moment of weakness where your professional instincts overpowered your personal loyalty.

'This is it, this is why she's not talking to you, this whole time it's been your fault.'

It was never meant to be published—but Leo had discovered it, and from there, it spiraled out of your control, gaining a life of its own in the public eye. The image, once released, spread like wildfire. It became the defining shot of your career and the defining wound of hers.

“Paige, I-“

She shakes her head no, her expression eerily similar to the one in the picture that ruined the two of you. “Please just leave,” she repeats, her normally deep voice an octave lower with the intensity of the emotion coursing through her words.

Realizing you have no ground left to stand on, the least you can do is abide by her request. You reach for the door handle, but her voice stops you.

"And for the record," she begins, answering your earlier question, "I always agreed to those photos because I loved you and I thought maybe, just maybe, if I helped you get what you wanted, it might make you love me back.”

Her confession wrenches a sudden and uncontrollable sob from your throat, you want nothing more than to shut the door, wrap your arms around her, and beg for the forgiveness you know deep down you’ll never deserve until your heart gives out.

But instead you stand, exiting the car and turning to her one last time, speaking up through tears, "I can't justify what I did with that picture, and I know that if I spent every moment of my life trying to make it up to you, I'd still fall short," you say, your voice choked with regret.

Taking a deep breath, you looking up before meeting her gaze again. "And I know I didn’t show it well, but I loved you too."

She looks away, blinking back tears, her shoulders trembling, she whispers, her voice barely audible, repeating the words you’d uttered just a few minutes before, “ please don’t lie to me.”

#paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers #paige buckets #uconn wbb #wcbb #wcbb x reader #wlw #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers fanfiction #uconn huskies #fanfic #angst #wbb #uconn women’s basketball #paige bueckers angst

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braywashed · 2 years

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people are starting to see da widdle billy and i

#still waiting for hate anons to come in eventually but #me @ you all if you see this plz accept a plushie hug in spirit and this little ice cream cup #the kind with the wooden spoon #i also have lunchables if you'd prefer #I HAVE LA CROIX RIGHT NOW BC IT WAS ON SALE DO YOU WANT A LA CROIX?????#how do you interact with people

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devoutekuna · 5 days

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Matching their father's energy

Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto

Sukuna-

Sukuna's daughter definitely inherited the mouth that can move all around her body, normally her father would use it to bite her whenever she was acting like a brat, and she took that upon herself to do the same, finally mastering the movement of the small mouth, always keeping it on the palm of her hand. Using it to her advantage as she bit anyone she found annoying, especially her father, even trying to sharpen the teeth inside of it so that it would hurt more, but her father didn't even notice that he had been bitten since it was so weak to him. "Did you feel that?" Grinning at him, as her head stuck into his eyesight. "Feel what?" Pushing her head out of his way, he hadn't even noticed that she had bitten it. A distraught look appearing on her face as she heard his question. "But I bit you!" Waving her hand in his face. "Didn't feel a thing" smirking at her as he put her on the floor.

Nanami-

"Thank you love" kissing your cheek as you handed him a coffee. He was sat reading a book at the kitchen table, his daughter sat opposite him,marrying to copy his actions, first by reading a book, staring at it despite not understanding a word it said, it was about finances so of course she didn't get it, even putting on someone's glasses she found. "Can I have one too mummy?" Talking about the coffee as she pointed at it.

"No, I'm not giving you a coffee" a small chuckle being heard as he peered over his book, trying to cover it up with a cough. "Why not!?" Acting shocked as if she hadn't been told repeatedly that she wasn't to have caffeine. "Cause I said so." Defending your point and you poured yourself a cup, gloating in her face. "But dad gets one" mumbling under her breath as she slouched In her chair and crossed her arms over her chest.

Geto-

His daughter has seen him countlessly swallow the balls full of curses, watching her father's disgust appear as he washed it away and put on a smile for him daughter, later she had found out about the minty flavour of chewing gum, always going to the shop to buy some with you. Soon enough she wanted to try do what he was doing, finding a small button in the house and shoving it down her throat only to choke on it and fortunately he was there to save her, even though it ended in tears, she still tried again but with bigger objects.

Gojo-

Gojo has a thing for eating big meals, so when his son was born, he wasn't surprised that he had a big appetite just like him. Scoffing down nearly a full tub of ice-cream, it was 2am and Satoru had just woken up for a drink, walking into the kitchen only to find his 3 year old with a spoon in his mouth and a half empty tub of vanilla ice-cream, sat on the tile flooring. "Hi daddy" smiling at the man as he rook the spoon out of his mouth, going in for another spoonful before realising how rude it was not to offer some. Hand stuck out with a spoon attached to it. "Want some?" Oblivious to the fact that he had just eaten half a tub. Scratching his bare stomach as he wore only sweatpants, pondering if he should take the offer. "I'm good" patting the girl's head as he walked towards the fridge.

Toji-

He has a thing for killing people, that's why he was an assassin fortunately your daughter didn't know how to kill nor use her cursed technique. For her birthday she had been begging for a bat after seeing a group of kids playing with one.

"Hiyahh!" Hitting the man with the wooden bat, you didn't understand why she needed a wooden one and not a plastic one, but then again, it was the same bat that a professional baseball player used. "Go away",grabbing the bag and bringing it to his face. "Go use your ball if you want to use this" he didn't understand why she didn't use the ball that came with it, instead trying to smash up anything in her path, though it was normally just cushions.

#geto fluff #gojo fluff #nanami fluff #sukuna fluff #toji fluff #geto x reader #gojo x reader #toji x reader #sukuna x reader #nanami x reader #geto suguru #gojo satoru #nanami kento #toji fushiguro #sukuna ryomen #jjk drabbles #jjk x reader #jjk #𝙳𝚎𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚎𝙺𝚞𝚗𝚊

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theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction · 5 months

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Imagine arguing with Sanji in the kitchen and holding up service…

The kitchen at Baratie was heating up and it wasn’t from the flaming stovetops or pre-heated ovens.

There was a wicked, hot tension between yourself and Sanji and it was making the rest of the kitchen staff sweat. No one knew what had caused the new dynamic but they quickly learnt to stay a safe distance from the pair after Patty accidentally fanned the flame. Now they only interacted with the duo when required.

Sanji was chopping vegetables for his soup that was almost ready to simmer while you silently iced some cakes on the station beside him. Both regretting the request to cook next to one another.

The blonde-haired chef finished dicing the last of the carrots and picked up the board to hold over the pot. He gently swept the vegetables into the broth with the knife. Setting the utensils back down, Sanji inhaled the beautiful aroma that was starting to perfume the air. His hand reached out for his spoon but his fingers met empty air.

He sighed and closed his eyes. “I’d like my spoon back.”

Your eyes were fixed on the patterns being made on the soft pieces of sponge but your ears picked up that his tone was directed toward you.

“I don’t have it.” You offered simply without breaking focus.

Sanji turned to you, eyes squinting. “Really? Because I recall that you used it last to mix the cake batter.”

It was your turn to exhale. “I did and I washed it thoroughly before setting it back on the table.”

“Well, it’s not here.”

“Then pull out another one.” You snapped.

Sanji lowered the heat of his soup so it wouldn’t burn before returning to glare at you. “Why should I have to when you’re the one who-”

Splat! The cook’s eyes went wide as the cold vanilla cream dripped from his chin, lips tasting its sweetness.

You now stood upright holding the bag of frosting, brows knitted to match the frown on your face.

“I didn’t take your damn spoon.”

The doors to the kitchen opened with their familiar heaviness and a wooden footstep hit the tiles.

“Why is there no soup or cakes out on the floor?” Zeff asked as he entered.

The kitchen that had gone quiet during the public argument suddenly sprang to life and scrambled to resume duties. Zeff’s eyes floated to the two in charge of the slowed menu line and his eyes narrowed.

“Why on earth are you tasting the desserts, Little Eggplant?” He inquired, approaching the bench.

Sanji’s hands flew to gesture your entire being. “Y/n is literally holding the bag. I’m a victim here!”

Zeff held a hand up to silence the boy and set his gaze on you. “You know that we don’t waste food here. Explain yourself.”

You shrugged. “He accused me of losing his spoon so I did what had to be done. I’m not apologising.”

Zeff blinked, jaw dropping slightly.

“A spoon.” He repeated slowly before his voice, and temper, was unleashed. “You two held up service because of a damn spoon!”

You held up your hands in defence. “I told him to just use another one but he was stubborn about it.”

Sanji didn’t take kindly to being thrown under the bus, rounding on you while completely ignoring the steam blowing out of Zeff’s ears.

“Excuse me but that is my special soup spoon. You’re lucky that I even let you borrow it.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s a spoon, Sanji. It’s not the All Blue.”

“You know what-?”

“I’ve heard enough!” Zeff bellowed, his voice sending vibrations through the glassware. “Mix the soup with a rolling pin for all I care. Just get it out to the customers along with those cakes or you’re both on dish duty for two months. Am I clear?”

Receiving a grumbled reply, the owner of the Baratie marched off.

A few stations away, Patty stealthily pulled a towel to cover the wooden handle of the missing utensil. It was too late to reveal the small prank without being boiled alive or baked into a pie.

With the tension still rising, Patty decided to lock them in a cupboard after the shift.

~ More imagines here ~

A/n: Heading back to the office tomorrow with a 5am wake up but here I lay at 12am dishing out some Baratie mania (with more to come). No regrets.

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totheblood · 1 year

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even more modern!ellie headcanons

a/n: just a little something... again AI AUDIOS AT THE END... replies and reblogs are appreciated

masterlist

ellie is a homebody, and usually will have to be dragged out by you or dina

honestly she’s never ‘dragged’ out by you, she usually likes to tag along if she knows you’re going somewhere where there will be a lot of people

it’s not that she doesn’t trust you, it’s that she doesn’t trust the people around you

you don’t really mind anyway, you like how she loops her finger in the belt of your jeans and pulls you closer to her when she notices someone staring at you

if the person doesn’t stop she’s not above pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear while making direct eye contact with the person

you giggle, throwing your head back slightly and turning to look at her in the dim light, “what’s gotten into you, ellie?”

“that dick keeps looking at you,” another kiss pressed to your jaw, “don’t like it.”

but she’d much rather stay at home with you, both of you tucked under her comforter with the air conditioner turned down to 64° and whatever show you’re watching at the time on the tv

she hates to admit it, but she loves grey’s anatomy (she swore to you she’d never like it with a scoff and “that show is shit, babe. it’s for like, middle-aged moms with no life.”)

but now as you both have your eyes glued to the screen, she can’t help but scoff every time george is on the screen

“what?”

“he’s just such a fucking loser, this guy.”

“he’s not the worst.”

“he’s pretty fucking bad… why would he sleep with meredith and then make it about him when she starts crying! it’s obvious she’s vulnerable… i just don’t like him.”

ellie gets pretty passionate when watching tv. she’s always sharing her opinions with you, looking at you for validation or arguing when you disagree with her

she’ll always add something like: “you’re lucky you’re cute” or “if you weren’t my girlfriend i’d tear your argument apart” and then kiss you on your nose and go back to watching tv

ellie is an awful cook… like so bad

one time she tried to make a recipe for your anniversary, thinking it would be easy but ended up failing miserably

she’s the type to write out the grocery list and cross shit off as she picks things up… even when she doesn’t know what it means

she didn’t know what trader joe’s was, so when she got there she’d be picking shit up and looking at it with a weird look on her face, “mango… joe joe’s? what the fuck is that?” she’d mutter before putting the box back on the shelf

but eventually she’s getting sucked in, picking up a box of mini ice cream cones, cookie butter, and the rest of the groceries needed for the meal she planned on making for you

you come over and the place is a mess, there is flour all over the counter and floors, pots and pans piled up in the stove, and ellie is stood over a bowl, mixing with a giant wooden spoon

“ellie?”

“shit.. fuck,” she curses, jumping a little bit before turning and smiling at you, her eyes looking you up and down, “you fucking scared me. you’re early.”

“no, i’m not.”

ellie’s eyes glance down at her watch, cursing as she bolts towards the stove a “no, no, no,” falling from her lips as she opens and sees the chicken inside burnt to a crisp. she’s throwing on her mitt and pulling the pan out, sighing as she watches all her hard work go to waste.

“you were trying to cook for me?”

ellie forgot you were there for a moment, her jumping a little at the sound of your voice and wiping the sweat from her forehead as she gives you her best smile, even though it’s strained.

“babe, i’m sorry, i- i don’t know where i went wrong,” she sighs, watching as you walk closer to her and put your hands on the counter behind her trapping her in.

“don’t be sorry” you kiss the side of her lips and smile against her skin, tasting her sweat, “it’s sweet… no one’s ever cooked for me before.”

she’s blushing and leaning into you, your warmth providing her some comfort from her previous stress

“you look nice,” she whispers below her breath, but you can still feel the puffs of air coming out of her mouth, “you deserve a good meal.”

“i’m not picky,” you whisper back, giggling as ellie’s heart leaps in her chest. she loves you so much it hurts

her hands rest at your hips when she kisses you gently, saying something about missing you that you miss because of how her lips feel against yours

you order takeout that night and eat it as you help her clean up the mess she made

“have you ever been to trader joe’s? that shit was crazy”

ellie is the type of girlfriend to send you two people from a tv show or an edit and be like “babe, this is so us”

or to think it’s so cute when you have matching icons on instagram, tiktok, or twitter

she just wants to show you off all the time

she draws the line at a joint couple account though

she’s always writing things about you, whether it be in her journal, little poems, or songs about you

she’d post a song she wrote you on tiktok with the caption “wrote this song about my lover” and not expect it to blow up

but then she’s receiving a million comments about how sweet it is and how people wish someone would do something like that for them

she doesn’t like the comment “can your gf fight” so she’s responding to all of them like “no, she can’t, but i can and i will! LEAVE MY GF ALONE!!”

but she’d brag about it to you, shoving her phone in your face and saying “look, your girlfriend is fucking famous.”

when you gasp and grab her face congratulating her in between kisses her face grows red and she’s smiling so wide her cheeks hurt

“don’t forget me when you become famous.”

“how could i forget my muse?”

ellie loves listening to music with you and will make you a playlist that she updates with every song she listens to that reminds her of you

she’s incredibly corny in that way

she always wants to listen to the music you suggest to her, wanting to be closer to you in any way she can

even if she doesn’t like it she’s pretending she loves it and playing it constantly, even when you aren’t around

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