#bakers dozen -1

[abakers-dozen]

Missing Royal Report #1-6!!!

Raspberry Macaron [Known for their highest place in rank] Has been reported missing by their Cookie. Last seen on , ChocoChip Cookie has been placed into power until said Royal is found.

If you or a loved one has any information on them or any other Royals where'a'bouts, please contact The head Guard Dark Choco, all info will be appreciated.

A search warrent of the inner works of the Castle has been denied, stop asking.

Thank you!

-🕒

[Art made by 🍯]

[caffeinewitchcraft]

The Hero and Hope (part 3/5)

(part 1) (part 2)

Summary: You've been adopted before. That's why you know better than to hope for another chance, especially a second chance with the Bahrs

-----

It’s not that you don’t want to be adopted. You just know that you’re not going to be. You’re the oldest in the orphanage, barely three years away from aging out. People don’t adopt kids your age, especially not obstinate, mean ones like you.

Besides, you’re a Hero. As soon as you master your power, you’ll be compelled to leave and fight evil anyway. That’s why it doesn’t matter if the Bahrs want you or not. You’re not somebody that’s supposed to have a family.

You barely remember the first time you were adopted. That was back when the Director of the orphanage was mean and biting. You have a vague memory of gold exchanging hands and leaving in the middle of the night. Your new parents barely looked at you and didn’t call you by your name at all.

You don’t remember a lot of that time. You were five and it was a struggle to go from living with a dozen kids to no one at all. Your new family gave you your own room in their small house and told you not to get underfoot.

The first time you ran away from their house, you didn’t get far. The baker in town brought you back to them and warned them about how kids your age are always slipping out when not paid enough attention.

“If you do it again,” the person who paid for you said, “you’re going straight back to the orphanage.”

And you do.

--------.

The day of the picnic, every kid wakes up early without being told.

You watch as Hera fusses over all the younger ones, straightening new shirts and brushing dust off knees. Josiah is reading one of the newest books Mrs. Bahr – Marie – brought, biting the skin on the side of his thumb. You snag Hera as she races to find Annie some ribbon for her hair.

“Hold up, let me brush your hair first,” you say.

Hera frantically pats the braids she slept in. “I forgot about my hair!” She turns large, watery eyes on you. “Islaaaa!”

You snort and help her unwind each braid. She decides to leave it down, charmed by the waves the braids left in her hair. Your hands don’t shake as you work even though your heart is racing. Today is the day of the picnic.

Today might be the day the Bahrs pick one of you to adopt. The younger kids don’t know that, the information carefully hidden from them, but Hera knows. Director Sarah knows. You know.

It’s been a long time since you felt this sort of anxiety. The second time you were adopted was just before the Winter and it wasn’t bad at first. The couple who adopted you ran an inn in town. It was exciting to have your own room and your new mother wanted you to call her Mom right away. Six-years-old and you were so excited just to be able to call someone your parent. This time you were going to listen. You weren’t going to run away or complain if their house felt too big and too lonely. This time you were going to get it right.

You didn’t think about what they wanted from you in exchange.

It wasn’t until the second week when they found out you weren’t really much use for anything that things started getting bad.

You breathe in through your nose and proclaim Hera’s hair finished. She thanks you and races off to find Annie, determined to put the ribbon she picked in the younger girl’s hair.

The Bahrs aren’t like the innkeepers. Whoever they adopt won’t be expected to know how to read or do math or how to take care of horses. If they are required to then Marie and Ivan will teach them first. Both have spent enough time at the orphanage for you to believe that. Isn’t it Marie who’s teaching all of you your letters? Wasn’t it Ivan who taught you how to better put up a fence?

Whoever they choose will be fine, you think. It’s both a relief and a sting. Whoever they choose will be fine. It’s just probably not going to be you. Not when Annie is so sweet and social and Hera is so strong and kind. Not when Josiah works so hard to soak up everything they have to teach him.

“Is everyone ready?” Director Sarah asks. She’s standing by the door. Her clothes are nicer than usual too, a dress made of a light blue fabric you’ve never seen before. Her hair is carefully combed back into an updo and fastened with a tie Hera made for her last winter. She runs a critical eye over all of you. “You all look very nice. Josiah, tie your shoes, please. Annie, leave the slate in your room, what you do if you lost it? Honestly…”

You let Director Sarah fuss over the kids, slipping out the door ahead of everyone. You don’t own a dress, but the button-down shirt is new and starched. Director Sarah helped you embroider bluebells on the collar and sleeves, and you think it turned out well.

You may not be getting adopted today, but you’re excited to see the Bahr family’s estate. The sun is warm overhead, the sky an endless blue. The summer is mild this year, perfect for a party. Isn’t that what Mr. Bahr – Ivan – told you to think of it as? A party. No strings attached.

A wagon comes up the lane. The Bahr family’s home is too far for the younger kids to walk to, past the town and closer to the Lord’s manor. They said they’d send a wagon for all of you, but something still clenches in your chest when you actually see it. Wagons are an expense the orphanage can’t justify, but, apparently, the Bahrs can.

The driver smiles kindly when he pulls up next to you. “Everyone ready to go?”

Before you can answer, the kids are pouring out the front door, chattering excitedly. You help Director Sarah lift the smaller ones into the seats near the front. The wagon is open topped, so Director Sarah can look over everyone sternly, twisting around in her spot next to the driver.

“No playing during the ride,” she instructs. “Mr. Dallen is very kindly driving us so you must listen to him, alright?”

Mr. Dallen also turns around. “I don’t have too many rules,” he says. He pretends to think, scratching his thick beard.  He grins “Don’t fall out!”

He’s joking, but that’s why you’re stationed at the back of the wagon. From your seat, you’ll be able to stop any roughhousing before “falling out” becomes a real danger. Already you’re eyeing the way Josiah is fidgeting. He’s incredibly calm when he’s reading, but otherwise he’s like a tornado. There’s a reason he’s the one that fell into the well in the first place. Hera sits primly next to him, her hands folded in her lap. You can tell she’s watching him from the corner of her eye. There’s a reason she’s the one who pulled Josiah out of the well.

Mr. Dallen directs the horses away from the orphanage, through the orchard, and along the road cutting through the fields. When you’re going to the forest to hunt, you take the narrower path that winds through the orchard and more directly into the tree line. The wagon is forced to stay on the wider road where the horses won’t sink into any mud and the wagon wheels won’t catch on rocks or dense foliage.

After the fields is the town. The kids wave to every Villager and Blacksmith they see. “Good day!” “Morning!” “We’re going to a picnic!” Hera pulls Annie back from the edge of the wagon before she tips over onto the street.

You slouch in your seat, wishing you were wearing a hat. While the first family who adopted you left town ages ago to live in the Capital, the innkeepers are still around. You don’t look as you pass their business and try not to listen to Josiah carefully sounding out the name of their inn.

When you open your eyes, Director Sarah is looking at you. You okay? She mouths. She wasn’t at the orphanage for your first adoption, but she was there for the innkeepers. You feign going to sleep. Just tired. She pretends to believe you and turns back to continue chatting with Mr. Dallen.

The kids are excited to go through the forest. Many of them are too young to even go into town with Director Sarah, a privilege you earn at ten years old, and they point to every bird, deer and mushroom they see amongst the trees. You let the sound of nature and the kids’ chatter lull you into a sort of meditation. The estate is only thirty minutes away now that you’re out of town.

You’re nearly dropping off to sleep when Director Sarah’s voice changes in pitch. Your sensitive hearing can pick up a thread of concern in her voice. What makes Director Sarah concerned, makes you concerned.

“—demons in the woods,” Sarah is saying very quietly. She glances out of her peripherals towards the back to make sure no kids are listening. If she notices how you’re only pretending to sleep, she doesn’t show any sign of it. “Shouldn’t we ask the kids to be quiet?”

“The Lord’s Knights have been patrolling,” Mr. Dallen says equally quietly. You can see him scan the trees for a moment before he smiles reassuringly at Director Sarah. “We’ll be okay so long as we stick to the road.”

“Alright.”

You keep a closer eye on the surrounding forest.

“There! There it is!”

Annie’s shout drags you attention from a (suspiciously) shadowed gully. The woods have thinned enough that hedges of the Bahrs’ estate can be seen. You’ve only been out this far once, a long, long time ago. You’ve never been past this point.

You’re just as surprised as the rest of the kids when the hedges give way to a castle.

That’s not a manor. You’ve never seen either, but you’re sure of this. Manors are supposed to look like the orphanage or any of the buildings in town, just larger. The Bahrs’ home has towers. The front doors are three times the height of a regular one and you can see that the handles and knockers are made of copper. The stone isn’t white like the castles in picture books, but it’s clean and neatly cut.

“Wow,” Hera breathes.

You agree.

Mr. Dallen directs the horses right up the main driveway, cheerfully explaining that the roses are the flower of the estate, aren’t they beautiful? Even Hera can only manage a faint noise of agreement, eyes wide on the house.

“The party’s around back,” Mr. Dallen says cheerfully. He clicks his tongue and the horses stop just short of the front doors. “I’ll take you there.”

Around back. You expect him to lead you around the side of the castle, past rows of rose bushes and the fountains that are tucked between the hedges. Instead, Mr. Dallen opens the front doors without knocking and directs everyone to follow him.

You’ve never seen anywhere so grand. The kids follow Mr. Dallen in hushed awe, gaping at the marble staircase that bisects the foyer. There are two chandeliers to either side of the grand staircase that each send a spray of rainbow light across the walls. Is the manor a little bare? The walls empty of portraits and artwork? You eye a pair of crossed axes hanging just beyond the shadow of the staircase.

“They’re ordering portraits from the Capital,” Mr. Dallen says, gesturing carelessly to the space where a portrait of the homeowners might hang. Then under his breath, “Unless they hang more swords there instead.”

“Excuse me?” Hera asks.

“Nothing,” Mr. Dallen says cheerfully. He guides them past the staircase and a row of doors to the back of the house. The large doors at the back of the house are already open. Mr. Dallen cups a hand over his mouth and calls, “Ho ho, look here! Look who’s arrived!”

“Surprise!” Ivan shouts, throwing his hands up in the air. He’s standing on the stone patio just outside the house, but he’s not the only one. Mrs. Bahr is next to him, her hands clasped in front of her, beaming. Behind her is a dozen other adults. “It’s a party!”

“Welcome,” Mrs. Bahr says warmly. She’s dressed elegantly in a long, red tunic that’s embroidered with the Lord’s crest. The Lord is here as well, his golden hair and eyes unmistakable even amongst the crowd. “Welcome to our home.”

You’re already at the back of the group, but you hang back further as the younger kids cautiously step out into the sun. Your eyes flick from face to face. You recognize a few of the people. There’s the Baker from town and her wife, there’s the Merchant that comes through every third week, there’s the Villager that donates zucchini—

And there are the innkeepers who, once upon a time, told you to call them your parents. They’re older than you remember, light hair gone silver in the sun, but it’s them. They’re right by the Lord, eagerly waiting near him for the opportunity to talk.

It’s very clear what this is. You watch the kids stream out onto the patio to greet Ivan and Marie. The other adults study the kids like zoo animals, eyes flicking to their clean party outfits to their happy faces. This isn’t a party for the kids. It’s a party for them. They’re showing off to each other. Look at how great they are! They’re helping out the poor orphan kids! You’re very familiar with these sort of events from back when the other Director was in charge. You just didn’t think you’d ever have to be near one again.

You take a step back and are stopped by Director Sarah.

“It’s okay, Isla,” Director Sarah murmurs. You didn’t even notice her falling back to your side. Her hand is gentle on your elbow. “It’s not what you think.”

Not what you think? You watch the Villager who runs the general store ask Josiah about the book he’s reading. The Bahrs are proudly introducing Annie and Hera to the Lord. There is something different about it, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. All you can see is the way the adults are watching the kids. You breathe in through your nose like Ivan taught you. In. Out. “What is it?”

“Fixing my mistake,” Director Sarah says.

That gets your attention. Your eyes dart from the happy scene in front of you to Sarah and back again. With the white umbrellas over the food tables, the streamers strung between garden trellises, and the kids dressed in their best, it looks like a painting. In contract, Sarah’s lips are pursed and the shadows of the house make her appear more tired than she is.

“There’s a parlor,” Mr. Dallen says. You jump when he speaks and he grimaces apologetically. He jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “If you need to talk.”

Marie is looking over the heads of the kids to where you’re standing, a frown on her face. She mouths your name, concern in her eyes. Your jaw clenches when the Merchant steps in front of her, hiding you from view.

“Yeah,” you say. “Let’s talk.” You spin on your heel.

Sarah follows you silently. You feel wrong-footed and caged by the entire situation. This was supposed to be a picnic, wasn’t it? No strings attached? Your dress shirt is tight around your neck and you flick open the top button.

“I should have told you,” Sarah says as soon as the door closes. There are two couches in the room adjacent to a large window that overlooks the party. Neither of you sits down. Sarah folds her hands in front of her skirts. “I apologize.”

“What are they doing here?” you ask. You gesture to the window. “The Lord, I understand. He’s the Lord. But the Baker? The Merchant?” You bark a laugh. “They’re not here to adopt anyone.”

“Maybe not,” Sarah says evenly, “but they’re good connections to have.”

“Connections?” You scoff. You remember watching the empty road through that winter nearly seven years ago. “What good are their connections?”

“Annie loves baking,” Sarah says. She doesn’t flinch in the face of your anger. She watches you calmly and doesn’t so much as shift her weight when you start to pace. “The Baker is a good connection for her to have, even if she doesn’t want to adopt. Many of the shopkeepers in town are open to taking on apprentices.”

You falter. You didn’t think about that. Your eyes drift towards the window. You can hear Hera laughing and Josiah complaining good naturedly. You’re nearly 15, just a few years away from aging out. You can’t say you’ve never thought about the future before. “They said they’d be willing to do that?”

“Who knows what the future holds?” Sarah sighs and goes to take a seat on the sofa. She makes a sound low in her throat when she sits. “That wagon ride was not good for my back.”

“I don’t trust them,” you say. You stop pacing to sit opposite her. From this point in the room, you can see the party on the patio. They can also see you. Ivan doesn’t turn away from the dessert table, but you can sense his attention on you. You swallow. “We don’t need anything from them.”

“I agree,” Sarah says.

You blink. “What?”

Sarah laughs. It’s not her usual laugh that she shows the kids, gentle and fond and warm. It’s cold and a little sharp. You’ve only heard it once before when the snow finally melted, chasing the snow spirits away, and the town came to see what had become of the orphanage.

“You and I are a lot alike,” Sarah says. Her eyes drift somewhere distant. “Like you, I remember that Winter. I remember waiting for any sort of response to our pleas. I remember hearing nothing back. The helplessness I felt as our stores dwindled…” Her voice cracks. She shakes herself, swallowing hard. “Well. I don’t need to tell you what their lack of aid cost us.”

It takes you two tries to speak. Director Sarah feels the same way as you. “So why?”

“Why did I agree to the party?”

“Yes.”

“Because I need to forgive, not forget, if I want to fix my mistake,” Sarah says. Her lips thin. “I’m not perfect. Since I’ve been Director of the orphanage, there hasn’t been a single new hire. There have been no volunteers or extracurricular programs for the kids. I’ve kept us hidden.”

“You’ve kept us protected,” you say. Things under Director Sarah have always been better than what they were before. The kids are happier and brighter, and the pantry is always full. No one disappears in the middle of the night or dies under her watch. “We know you have.”

“I’ve tried,” Sarah says. She opens her hands, palms facing the ceiling. “I rebuilt the orphanage to be independent. I thought that if we were completely self-sustaining, we’d be alright. But in doing so I’ve hurt the children. The orphanage is not supposed to be forever. They need connections with people, with the town, for when they grow up.”

“That—” You don’t know what you’re going to say. You fall silent, your anger fizzling out in your chest. She’s right. As much as you want everyone to stay together, you know that can’t happen. What Sarah is saying isn’t wrong, but… “Today is supposed to be for the kids. Not for them to feel better about themselves helping the orphans.”

“The kids are having fun,” Sarah says. There’s a peal of laughter from outside as if to underscore her words. She smiles as she stands. “Kids includes you too, you know. Let me worry about the adults.”

You stand too. You know the conversation is coming to a close and that, soon, you’ll be expected to go out there with Sarah. “Um…”

“Yes?”

You nearly don’t say it. But the way Sarah is waiting for you to speak is so patient that you muster up the courage. “The innkeepers are here. They aren’t…?”

Again, you’re not sure what you’re about to say. There’s a sick fear in your stomach that they’re here to tell the Bahrs all about how awful you were when you with them. Maybe they’re looking for another kid to demand too much of. Maybe they’re here because, in the end, you didn’t mean anything to them and what happened between you and them doesn’t make a difference--

Even if you don’t know what you’re going to say, Sarah must. Her smile darkens. “I’ll take care of the adults,” she repeats. She smooths her hand over your hair when you follow her to the door. “Why don’t you stay in here for a moment? I’ll just have a word with the innkeepers.”

You wait in the parlor while Sarah joins the party. You twist your hands together to keep from picking at the embroidery on your sleeves. You almost want to stop Sarah from talking to the innkeepers. It was so long ago, before the Winter, it shouldn’t matter anymore. You’re being ridiculous to be so worried about them when there are bigger things going on. You—

Hera throws open the door to the parlor. Her braids are a little frizzy already and there’s a flush high on her cheeks. “Isla! We’re playing team tag and you’re the only one fast enough to catch Marie. Come on!”

You don’t have the option to say no. Hera yanks you by the sleeve out onto the patio. The guests are much more dispersed now, pockets of adults around this table or that. They’re not studying the kids now. They’re just watching them as they run to and fro across the lawn, bemused smiles on their faces.

Ivan cheers when he sees you. Like Hera, his face is bright red. “Isla!” he pants. “You’re on my team!”

Marie sprints past, her skirts hiked up to her knee. She runs as if she’s in full armor, strides long and shoulders square. You wonder if she notices no one is chasing her anymore. “It won’t be enough!” she cries.

Josiah is laying on the grass. He chucks his fist in the air. “Go, Marie! Go!” He gasps for breath. “We’re unstoppable.”

“You’re out,” Annie tells him crossly. She’s also laying flat on her back, but seems to be faring better in the breathing department. “You’ve stopped.”

“Shut it—”

You scan the crowd. You don’t see the innkeepers anywhere, not even near where the Lord is sitting. You look over your shoulder back towards the house just in time to see Director Sarah disappearing around the corner. She’s talking to someone just ahead of her. Is she escorting the innkeepers out?

“Isla?” Hera slips her hand in yours. Her eyes are knowing. “You okay?”

You clear your throat, aware of all the eyes on you. You tuck  some hair that’s escaped her braid behind her ear. “Just trying to decide which team I should join.”

Ivan cries out in dismay. “Isla, please!”

Grinning, you join the game.

-----

(part 1) (part 2)

Thanks for reading! If you'd like to read the conclusion of Isla's tale before next week, please consider supporting me on Patreon (X)!

Up this week is a continuation of my Cinderella Retelling, Cinderella Doesn't Believe in Fairytales

[partycatty]

how many donuts can you stack on it

i feel like ive got this down to a science.

warnings: describing fictional characters' peanits in length.

notes: this is what i come back with to post (1 donut = 1 inch)

[ masterlist ]

liu kang > he's got a bioweapon in motion and form, truly. it's so big and thick you might actually die if you try to take it all. 9 donuts. he'll let you do anything to it, silly or not, if it makes you crack a hungry grin like you did when you counted.

bi-han > idk i feel like its not that big, but it's got good thickness.... 4 and a half donuts. finds it stupid, won't agree to putting donuts on it at first, but gives in just so you'll stop. he's embarrassed.

kuai liang > husband length. humble but knows he can get the job done... thinks he could be bigger but you dont complain. 6 donuts. he's too kind and sweet to really have a problem with it.

johnny cage > he thought he'd be able to fit more donuts... not that the current amount is small. 7 and a half donuts. he might try and cram that second half in, but it falls off and splats on the ground.

kenshi takahashi > confident but quiet about it, the donuts don't stop stacking even when you think you couldn't fit another. 9 donuts. expected it, not surprised, but chuckles dryly at your little gasp.

kung lao > tried it on himself before you even got the chance to ask. 7 donuts after trying multiple times at home. lies and says it was nine donuts when he tried it at home...

raiden > nobody expects it from him, since it's not on the forefront of his mind like his bestie... 9 donuts. just thought everyone could fit that many no problem. you had to explain that he's massive.

rain > doesn't talk about it because there isn't really much to say... 5 donuts. (why doesn't he have a personality ever)

tomas vrbada > you just... kept going.... and before you knew it, 8 and a half donuts sat pretty hugging him as he smiles in delight. at first he didn't get your vision, but seeing the shock on your face was more than enough.

baraka > afraid of showing it, tarkat enhanced... all of his features. nearly a baker's dozen, 10 donuts fit with no problem. he growls to himself, adjusting his hips. maybe his condition had a perk.

geras > won't really get why you want donuts on it... but will entertain your ridiculousness. he stands stock still and firm when you put a whopping ten and a half donuts on him. he raises a brow, wondering what the point was.

syzoth > his tongue flicks in curiosity as you try to balance the donuts on both, squeezing a whopping 14 donuts combined! he grins in satisfaction, wondering how many donuts his true form could hold.

havik > it fell off. 0 donut.

shao > shitting your pants when you put the entire dozen onto it, and still have some wiggle room. shao remains unimpressed but silently pleased with his thickness and length as it balances the treats.

shang tsung > it's cute. 5 donuts was his max, but he seems smug about it. he knows you'll take him either way, and the thought makes him smirk.

reiko > 7 and a half donuts stops him short but he just laughs loudly with his hands on his hips. asks if you're impressed, and then offers for you to eat the donuts right off of him.

ermac > ....would ermac have millions of dicks? or just one in his physical manifestation? how many donuts is that...? you'll be there for a while.

[navybrat817]

Bucky needs to be smothered in kisses. No sex has to follow, just him allowing you to pepper kisses all over his cute face simply for being him and for looking so pretty and cute. Like, "Shut up, Bucky and take it" - proceeded by dozens of kisses 💋💋💋

Bucky deserves all the kisses! How about a little something for our tattoo artist?

What Dreams Are Made Of

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader Summary: You're on Bucky's mind before your date. Word Count: Over 1.5k Warnings: Ki-ssing, Fluff, slight insecurity if you squint, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Graphics talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics, Bucky edit - Nix, Moodboard - yours truly A/N: My second Connect 4 (C4007 - Square 1) / Into an Alternate Juneiverse for @buckybarnesevents! Set in my Sin on Skin AU, but can be read as a standalone.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky flopped down on the break room couch with a tired smile. He had a hard time sleeping the night before and wanted a little rest before his first client of the day arrived. It didn't surprise him when he struggled to sleep. He could sometimes be a night owl when he wasn't dealing with the occasional nightmare, but last night was different. You consumed his thoughts after he went home.

Every single one of them.

You thinking of me, Sugar? I hope you are.

Hell, you hadn’t left his mind since he first walked into your shop. His beautiful, sweet baker with the warm smile and humor to brighten his day. You looked too pure to be with someone who looked like him. He wasn't blind to the stares he received whenever he went out. With his physique and exposed skin littered with ink, many wrote him off as dangerous without a second thought. They would’ve been shocked to learn he was a bit of a science nerd who loved to read in his spare time or that he served his country alongside his best friend.

Something told him you’d appreciate all those little details about him, especially since you asked him out.

"Wish I was taking you out now, Sugar," he whispered to himself as he shut his eyes.

Bucky didn’t want to admit to himself that he was a little nervous. From his chats with you, he gathered enough of an idea on where it would be good to take you for your first date. He didn’t want it to be generic though. If he couldn’t make it unique, it at least had to be special. Something you’d remember. You deserve the best.

And he wanted to show you he was nothing like your prick of an ex.

"Hey."

The sound of your voice beside him made his eyes open, his heart racing as you smiled. He hadn’t even heard your footsteps. When he tried to sit up, you pushed him to lay back down. The sugary scent that lingered on your skin from the shop had him licking his lips as you moved on top of him. But instead of your normal work clothes and apron, you wore a sundress.

One that was dangerously riding up your hips as you straddled him.

And he was too in awe to stop you.

“How did you get back here?” he whispered, not at all upset that you managed to sneak into the room.

“Steve let me in,” you whispered back, framing his face. He couldn’t decide where to place his hands. He wanted them all over you. “I had a break and couldn’t wait to see you.”

“You saw me last night,” he smirked as you leaned down, your lips dangerously close to his. “Not that I’m complaining.”

While the guys heard all about you and expected to meet you at some point, no one thought you would rush into the shop the way you had. You didn’t know it yet, but they all had a soft spot for you because of Bucky. Even if they didn’t, not a single one of them would’ve put up with how your dick of an ex spoke to you. Respect meant everything in their establishment and any man who talked down to someone the way he had with you had no right to be there.

The fucker made you cry, but I wiped that smug look off his face just for you.

“Too long to wait,” you smiled, your breath skimming his mouth. It paralyzed him as he waited to see what you would do next. “And I know our date isn’t until Friday, but I want to kiss you now.”

“Why do you wanna kiss me?” he smiled because yours was contagious.

“Because I want to thank you.”

“You don’t need to,” he promised. He’d stick up for you no matter what the situation called for. Call him smitten or a decent guy, that was just how he was.

“I want to. I also want to kiss you because you’re pretty. And, yes, you are pretty because I say so,” you teased, which earned an almost bashful smile from him. He was far from pretty, but any sort of compliment from you meant the world. “But mainly because you’re a good man and deserve a kiss.”

“Just a kiss?” he asked as he did his best to keep his hips still. You didn’t just deserve the best date, but you deserve a gentleman as well. Fuck, did he want you though and the things he wanted to do to you were far from innocent. He wondered if you felt through his jeans just how much he did.

“Just a kiss. For now,” you said, closing the gap between the two of you.

There was no hunger or desperation when your tongue slipped past his lips. Even when he deepend the kiss, you didn’t rush. It was soft and tender, but held the promise of something more just like your first kiss had. He wasn’t just a moth drawn to your flame. He carried the fuel and wanted to douse you in it.

Bucky craved to be the one who brought your fire to the surface until it consumed you both.

“Am I dreaming?” he exhaled, finally gripping your hips when you dragged your lips along his face. The featherlight motions were enough to drive him mad, tempting him to flip you over so he could explore your body properly. No, he needed to let you stay in control for now. “Sugar, you’re killing me.”

“And what a way to go, Hottie. So, shut up and take my kisses,” you giggled.

He chuckled as you smothered him with your lips and he took the opportunity to hold you closer. It felt right to have you in his arms. He couldn’t recall the last time he fell for someone so quickly, if ever. What if that scared you?

What if he scared you?

“It’s time to wake up, Bucky,” you whispered in his ear. “I’ll see you soon.”

Bucky’s brows furrowed as you faded from his arms. “Sugar?” he asked. Where did you go?

“Buck, you need to get up!”

Steve’s shout startled Bucky awake and it was a miracle he didn’t fall off the couch. His heart pounded before he realized he had been dreaming. You weren’t in the back room with him. You hadn’t smothered him with gentle kisses.

He was all alone.

“What the fuck?” he whispered, tossling his hair as he sat up.

Figures. It was just a dream, but I’m glad I had it.

“You okay?” Steve asked as he carefully approached his friend. “Hey, I wasn’t trying to scare you. Called your name a couple of times and that didn’t do the trick. Didn’t think I should touch you either.”

“I’m fine. Thanks,” Bucky huffed a little. Both of them had their share of nightmares after being overseas. Steve wouldn’t have yelled his name if he thought something was wrong, so he must’ve appeared peaceful enough. Peace. That was what you gave him, even if his jeans felt a little tighther and uncomfortable.

“You need a minute?” the blonde smirked when Bucky adjusted a bit.

“Why did you wake me?” he replied, avoiding his question. The guys knew well enough how crazy he was about you and didn’t need to know he was dreaming about you in the shop. “I’m sure it was extremely important.”

“Because your client should be here in a few minutes and I wanted to make sure you didn’t sleep through the appointment. So, yeah, extremely important.”

With a nod, Bucky slowly got to his feet. “Space is already cleaned and disinfected. Stencil’s done, too,” he said. He liked to prepare as much as he could and they prided themselves on having a clean and safe workspace. “Um, Sugar hasn’t stopped by, has she?”

Steve shook his head. “No, she hasn’t,” he answered, giving Bucky a small smile when he frowned. He knew all about the date. “But Friday is just around the corner if you don’t see her before then.”

He tried not to feel disappointment and swore he could still smell the sugary scent of you in the air. It must’ve lingered on the couch from when you were there the night before. He wished he could have that smell on his pillows and sheets. “I like her.”

“I know you do. We all do,” Steve said, leaning against the wall. “We even told Hal he wasn’t allowed to go into the bakery out of fear that she’d fall for his charm,” he added with a wink.

I’m charming, too.

“No, punk,” he said, not wanting to be more vulnerable than he already had. “I really like her.”

The playful look on Steve’s face fell, replaced with something softer. “I know, jerk. And I think she really likes you, too. So be the good guy we know you are and sweep her off her feet.”

That’s exactly what Bucky planned to do.

Bucky, our hearts are yours! Check out more of Hottie and Sugar wiht Sweet and Strong. Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[pilfappreciator]

Brandi and Bruce’s S/o looking after the bakers dozen on their own, what shenanigans occur?

Anon this is?? Literally so cute what the hell??? Also referring to them as the "bakers dozen" is so genuis sfhjjfdadfggh—

Reader & the Bakers Dozen: babysitting solo

Includes: GN! Reader, mentions of polyamory, mentions of Vacay Lovers, slightly Parental! Reader, the Bakers Dozen

CW: Bruce Jr.

🍪 POV: your partners go off to some fancy convention to promote their business, leaving you to watch after all 13 of their kids. Chaos ensues

🍪 These little shits are already a lot to handle, so when you suddenly find yourself being the only adult in the house responsible for them? Yeah, babes, you've definitely got your hands full

🍪 Luckily, you've spent enught time at the Vacay Lovers household that things are at least a little easier for you lol

🍪 They definitely behave much better for you compared to other babysitters. Partly because you're smoochin their parents (and don't wanna get in trouble), and partly because they genuinely like you :3

🍪 But they're still little shits thru and thru, don't forget that

🍪 If they happen to have school? Chances are Bruce and Brandi already took care of their lunches and stuff before they left, so it'll be up to you to pick them up (WARNING: THE KIDS WILL TRY TO CONVINCE YOU TO GO ORDER AT THE NEAREST FAST FOOD PLACE! Unless you've got money for 13 happy meals, prepare to hit em with a firm refusal). Definitely helps if you blast some music in the van! They've kinda lost interest in Velvet & Veneer after learning the two literally tortured their dad and uncles...

🍪 Play Brozone. They'll go crazy and shout-sing along with Bruce's parts lol

🍪 Later in the day you can expect a few to come up to you for homework help. They might also wanna help with dinner, but fyi there WILL be a mess. Pasta sauce on the floor, flour all over the counters, stains on your clothes— the whole shebang

🍪 Want the least amount of casualties? Just let them set the table (no worries, all the plates and stuff are made of plastic ajdjakkala)

🍪 A few of them have some dietary restrictions tho so keep that in mind!! Luckily, you can always find a list of reminders/examples up on the fridge courtesy of lovely muppet wife Brandi <33

🍪 If the kids don't have school that day, then be prepared. You're gonna have very little time to yourself ://

🍪 Like they've each got their own interests and hobbies to keep them occupied, but sometimes they'll need you to reach somewhere up high, or for you to play tiebreaker/settle an argument, or they honestly just want you to join them for a game of hide and seek which???

🍪 "Aw, you sure you guys don't mind me joining in?"

"Yeah! Just cuz you're old doesn't mean you can't have fun, too!"

"...Gee, thanks :D"

🍪 They're merciless

🍪 They've all got their own set of chores they need to do. Each and everyone will try to worm their way out of them. All of them. Everytime

🍪 Sure, they can be a little hyper sometimes, but they're like 6-8 years old so that's expected. For the most part, they're all pretty chill

🍪 It's Bruce Jr. who you've gotta watch out for

🍪 He is a shit- stirer and I WILL FOREVER STAND BY THAT

🍪 This guy won't hesitate to rally his siblings into whatever plan he's been cookin in that feral little head of his. Prepare yourself because you're MOST DEFINITELY getting pranked. It's like a requirement or something

🍪 One nice thing i have to say about Bruce Jr. is that he's actually pretty resourceful. Like this little dude is using everyday household items like he's staring in his own Home Alone movie AKSJSJAKA—

🍪 Rest assured, tho, none of his pranks are seriously harmful or anything but like... at the end of the day, expect:

1) to be covered in craft supplies

2) your clothes/skin/hair a mess

3) to have one limb stuck in a bucket

4) all of the above

🍪 Honestly I feel like Bruce and Brandi would be surprised if they came back and DIDN'T find you sporting paint-stained clothes or with glitter in your hair. Maybe a few stickers slapped on your forehead??

🍪 The trick to dealing with this little agent of chaos is to either keep him separated from his siblings long enough so he doesn't manage to rope anyone into his schemes, or strike some kinda deal with him. Considering he's got 12 siblings, all of whom you need to be watching over at the same time, chances are the second option is your safest bet

🍪 Chances are he'll ask for something semi-illegal, or at the very least something that DEFINITELY requires adult supervision

🍪 DO NOT LET THIS BOY TALK YOU INTO BUYING ANYTHING RELATED TO FIRE. Seems like an easy task, I know. Unfortunately this little shit enherited his dad's charm so watch out o_o

🍪 He'll settle for a happy meal tho. Hopefully you didn't already cave and take him and his siblings out to eat earlier, otherwise you're spending even more money ajsjakkala

🍪 If any errands need to be run during your time there, you BETTER BELIEVE they're all coming with. You'll need to be incredibly vigilant during this time cuz these kids are even more rowdy in public than they are at home. If you're smart about it, you can turn the whole thing into a game! If everyone manages to grab everything off the grocery list in a certain amount of time or if they're able to find the best quality (but relatively cheap) brand of laundry detergent, then you'll buy each of them candy or something uwu

🍪 You can count on them to be cooperative, but like... bring the family child leash just in case

🍪 Cough cough (Bruce Jr.) cough cough

🍪 MOVIES BEFORE BED! It's a bit of a family tradition in the Vacay Lovers household. Yknow, just some way for the kids to spend time together before the day ends

🍪 You're most definitely gonna be playing tiebreaker when the time comes. All 13 of them have wildly different tastes

🍪 Absolutely no scary movies tho. They'll try to argue that theyre able to handle it, but at the end of the night expect to find yourself under a pile of frightened children who've ctawled into bed with you

🍪 Their collective nightly routine is literally?? So chaotic??? Like all of them are simultaneously trying to squeeze into the same bathroom just to brush their teeth... running in and out of their respective rooms... trying to sneak some extra dessert before bed

🍪 Literally never a quite moment in this household jshskakakam

🍪 You might have to read a few bedtime stories or sing a lullaby—

"Dad does it better"

"Just go to bed, Benji"

—but once they've settled in under the covers? Out like a light. They are unconscious the moment their heads hit their pillows

🍪 You'll probably have a mess (or two... or three) to clean up afterwards, but once they're taken care of? Dishes washed? Counters clean? You're more than welcome to crash on Bruce and Brandi's bed <33

🍪 Said couple returns home the next morning...

🍪 Just to find their kids drawing on your face with marker. Cross your fingers that none of its permanent 💀💀

Hope this was good! I know I call them all little shits BUT I MEAN IT AFFECTIONATELY OKAY AJSJAKA

Ngl I feel like this could have been like... more colorful? Like I was very general about the kids and their behavior as a whole, but now I'm super tempted to make a post describing each of them and all their little quirks! Just something fun to do that'll help me write them better in the future ;3

[dead-end-draws]

Skywing Gladiator Helmets Part 2:

Part 1 + Lore behind these helmets, and why Skywings incorporated them in the arena!

Had way too much fun with the first batch of Skywing helmets, so now we have a baker’s dozen of them! Love drawing armor, even tricky ones like these guys are.

Average Skywing head base/measurement for Helmets:

[ninjaturtlemaniac]

Part 1 Trolls Headcanons/ Theories/ Thoughts/ Ideas

Part2 Part3 Part4 Part5 Part6 Part7 Part8 Part9 Part10

Trolls - in general Trolls are pretty rare outside their usual kingdoms and it's considered good luck to meet one.

Brozone - drastically changed their looks coz they hate that they used to dress the same.

Bruce - one of those dads who would get a new barbeque and show off all the cool features to the other local dads.

Bruce - "No kids, we're not keeping that stray animal, end of story, no way..." - 1 week later and he's giving it kisses and building it an over the top kennel with a heated blanket and a water fountain.

Bruce - (canon?) carried all their eggs, indirect reason why his hair is so big. (Side note - I read somewhere someone called all their kids 'The Bakers Dozen' and I frigging love that)

Floyd - solo career after he left Brozone - all his songs were PINK FLOYD SONGS! (Maybe that could've been his stage name?)

Floyd - his hair is naturally pink but JD made him make it redder because 'we're a boyband and pink is a girls colour'

John Dory - has embarrassing baby pictures of his brothers as leverage

John Dory - over-exaggerates his retellings of stories "I fought off 30 no no no 40 snakes with one hand behind my back."

John Dory - always casually asking Poppy, Brandy and Viva to marry him, over small things too "Brandy, these pancakes are delicious, marry me."

Clay - writes long and very detailed critical reviews of restaurants

Clay - has reading glasses. Probably the ones that attach magnetically at the nose ridge.

Clay - labels everything (labelmaker is to Clay as Gary is to Branch)

Clay - very into color coded itineraries and always know everyone's business "Poppy is currently at Smidge's pod doing her hair" "How could you possibly know that?" "I have my sources."

Clay - also a notary and registered marriage celebrant

Clay - hair was always naturally green but JDs hair was already green. JD said he had to be yellow for the band, they needed that color coordinated group vibe.

Clay - has drafts for his own book series

Clay - actually plays golf

Clay - gets clumsy when trying to impress someone he admires (imagine him meeting King Peppy and he just knocks things over)

Clay - competitive af - brothers know better than to verse him at anything - has an over the top victory dance

Viva - that concept art of tiny Viva is the age she was when they escaped the Troll Tree. So like 15 maybe?

Viva - wants to make up for all the missed holidays/birthdays/parties with Poppy so she is constantly popping out from places with gifts yelling SURPRISE!

Branch - for Pop Trolls - being in a famous singing group is the equivalent of being a recognized expert in your field. So the fact that Branch is in TWO famous boy bands is like he has several PhDs.

Branch - Kismet formed inside a group home for Trollings

Poppy and Vivas mother - my theory is that they managed to keep princess Viva a secret from the Bergens. They chose the Queen for Trollstice when they discovered what they thought was her first egg. The Troll Tree escape plan came about when Chef promised the new royal trolling for the young Bergen prince.

[arctic-the-otherkin-alterhuman]

“ThEy/ThEm ArE pLuRaL, yOu CaN’t UsE tHeM fOr A sInGlE pErSoN!!!1!!1! WhAt ArE yOu? MuLtIpLe PeOpLe????”

Yes, Natalie, I am multiple people. You are talking to 13 people, and they’re all talking shit about right now. Say hello to the Bakers Dozen!

[ortut]

JPW3 - 13-1 Bakers Dozen, 2019 (Oil pastel and acrylic on canvas, framed)

[nerdykeppie]

So! NerdyKeppie is working on a test program to permit exchanges of our clothing for size/fit purposes. This will be a little long, so bear with me.

As most of you know, our clothing is produced to order. This approach is part of what permits us to offer most of our patterns in over a dozen different flags as a matter of course (currently: Ace, Aro, Bear, Bi, Genderfluid, Genderqueer, Gilbert Baker/8-Stripe, Lesbian, MLM/Gay Men, Non-Binary, Pan, Progress, Rainbow, Trans). If we had to carry stock, we would have to restrict ourselves to The Big Flags, simply as a matter of practicality. So, as long as we've been in operation, we haven't been able to offer exchanges as a matter of practicality. We had nowhere to store the returned items, and we didn't carry stock or have the ability to sell those returns.

But on the other side of practicality is the reality of shopping on the internet. While we do our best to provide sizing charts and good images, shopping online has a certain amount of risk to it, and that risk centers a lot on whether or not something fits.

We are looking at instituting the following change to our return/exchange policy:

Customer's first item exchange: NerdyKeppie pays return postage on your first item exchanged, and we'll file the replacement order with our manufacturer as soon as the exchange is confirmed. You must still return the item & may be charged if it isn't returned in resaleable condition. Exchanges must be requested within 15 calendar days of item delivery.

Customer's subsequent exchanges: On subsequent items, the customer pays the return postage to NerdyKeppie, and the replacement order will be filed when the item is received in resaleable condition. Exchanges must be requested within 15 calendar days of item delivery.

1. What happens if NK gets the item back and it isn't in resaleable condition (odor, stains/wear, shoes worn outside)?

You can pay to get it back from us if you'd like, but we can't exchange what you didn't return to us in good condition. If this is your first return, and we've already shipped your replacement, you may be liable for the cost of the 2nd item.

2. Can I return things and get my money back if they don't fit?

We'll be happy to help you with an exchange to find the right fit for you.

3. Can I exchange for a different item?

We may permit this in the future if this policy works out, but we need to start with exchanging only for size so we can see if this works, first. Too many variables make it harder to assess for us.

This policy is not yet in place; we are finalizing some logistics bits. :) Once it goes live, we will announce the length of the test period as well.

[omgzineplease]

OMG Zine, Please! #1: #AfterCollege

Check, Please! started with a boy named Eric Bittle, a vlog channel, pies that materialized out of nowhere, and a play like no college hockey team has ever seen before—falling to fetal right on the ice at the thought of contact.

And somehow, that all turned into a thriving community of artists, authors, fans ranging from chill to downright feral, hockey butt enthusiasts, and more amazing people than one can count on a baker's dozen of hands.

Check, Please! told the story of Eric Bittle from Day One on the men's hockey team at Samwell University through to a triumphant graduation.

And we here at Zine, Please! were dying to know...what happened after?!?! And a lot of y'all had ideas. So. Many. Ideas.

So, after months of dedicated work from our admin team and our contributors, Zine, Please: #AfterCollege is officially here!

All of us are so thankful for the support and excitement all of you have shown, and we hope that you all love this zine just as much as we do. A special thank you to our contributors, this zine would be nothing without your wonderful art and fics!

Now come see all the chaos that ensues #AFTERCOLLEGE!!!

–Zine, Please! Admin Team

🥧🏒 Read OMGZP #1 here 🏒🥧

[morallyinept]

Lovely @the-blind-assassin-12 set a cool challenge called March Madness where the challenge was to read and re-blog 63 fics in the month of March.

So, here is everything I read & re-blogged during this month...

TOTAL READ & RE-BLOGGED ACROSS BOTH POSTS: 100 🥵

PART 2 OF 2 - Part 1 here

Please show some love to the writers by re-blogging and commenting on their work. 🖤

⚠️ Please ensure you check the triggers/warnings etc... on the stories themselves as some of them may not be suitable to your own particular tastes.

Dividers by lovely @saradika-graphics 🖤

ONE SHOTS/DRABBLES: (In No Particular Order)

Babysitter - Dave York - @auteurdelabre

Is There Space Left In That Bathtub? - Ezra - We Should Probably Leave Before We Start A Scandal - Javier Peña - @jksprincess10

Mutual - Lucien Flores - @luxurychristmaspudding

Chained - Lucien Flores - @5oh5

Chevelle - Joel Miller - @strang3lov3

Come In, Atled Air, Come In - Frankie Morales - A Baker's Dozen Ezra Part 2 - Ezra - @avastrasposts

Glory O - Javier Peña/Steve Murphy - @milla-frenchy

Knife - Dave York - Scandal - Dieter Bravo - @wannab-urs

Scars - Joel Miller - @romanarose

Some Good Friend - Tim Rockford - The Howler Monkey - Dieter Bravo - @covetyou

Not Without You - Lucien Flores - @musings-of-a-rose

Whatever My Wife Wants - Javier Peña - @javierpena-inatacvest

Hungry Eyes - Lucien Flores - @missredherring

Two Pack Habit & A Motel Tan - Lucien Flores - What Have I Done? - Frankie Morales - @trulybetty

This High Of You & Me - Lucien Flores - @kedsandtubesocks

Sunrise - Imagine Your Own Pedro Boy - @sawymredfox

Nicotine Kiss - Lucien Flores - @maggiemayhemnj

Que Manera De Despertar - Javier Peña - @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

Keep Me In Your Glow - Javier Peña - @atticrissfinch

It's Hard - Joel Miller - The Worst - Tom 'Redfly' Davis/Frankie Morales - @toxicanonymity

The Rite Of Movement Drabble - Joel Miller - @tightjeansjavi

Midnight Strikes, Where Is My Prince? - Frankie Morales - A Debt To Pay - Frankie Morales - Cinema Drabble - Frankie Morales - @undercoverpena

Go Your Own Way - Javier Peña - The One - Dieter Bravo - @schnarfer

The District Sleeps Alone Tonight - Marcus Pike - @whataperfectwasteoftime

Three's A Crowd - Dave York - Constellations In His Eyes - Dave York - @janaispunk

Amateur - Joel Miller - @ezrasbirdie

The Sequel - Marcus Pike - @toomanystoriessolittletime

Aquarius - Javier Peña - En El Mar - Joel Miller - Taurus - Joel Miller - Vote For Ted - Ted Garcia - @magpiepills

Please, Mister, Please - Joel Miller - @grogusmum

Between Two Lungs - Joel Miller/Tess Servopoulos - Sweet Days Of Summer - Joel Miller - Breath By Breath - Joel Miller - @ozarkthedog

Memories - Dieter Bravo - @bitchesuntitled

Cabin Fever - Joel Miller - @gutsby

Nylon Lust - Joel Miller - Beskar & Pearls - Din Djarin - @decembermidnight

Toy Story - Joel Miller - @sweetenerobert

House Arrest - Dieter Bravo - @rulexofxnines

Only For You - Marcus Pike - @burntheedges

First Time With Joel - Joel Miller - @wildemaven

Say Goodbye - Dave York - @quicax3

Movie Night - Zach Wellison - @munsonownsmyass

Out Of Sight - Dave York - @goodwithcheese

Practice Makes Perfect - Ted Garcia - @notjustjavierpena

Taste You - Dieter Bravo - @alwaysmicado

Cruel Summer - Dieter Bravo - @fhatbhabie

Something To Prove - Frankie Morales - @writefightandflightclub

Let Me Lay Down Beside You - Joel Miller - @jomiddlemarch

TOTAL READ & RE-BLOGGED ACROSS BOTH POSTS: 100 🥵

JETT'S FAV FIC RECS MASTERLIST

[outofmydepthatapublicbeach]

the confession- Julien Baker x lacy!reader

jj chats: y'all it is finally here. i would like to personally thank who ever first requested the jb x lacy!reader storyline!!! it has been so much fun to write these past few weeks. i think they'll be one more part after this, but maybe more if requested.

i love this couple so much so if you want certain scenarios with them please dm me or lmk!!!

part 1: linked

part 2: linked

part 3: linked

word count: around 2200 words i believe

warnings: RPF, use of y/n, pet names (princess), lots of cursing!!, argument,

feedback is encouraged and i'd love to get some just please be kind!!!

You stormed into your tour bus, smashing the door behind you. You thanked God that no one was on your bus because you knew as soon as the door closed that you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from crying. You were so confused and frustrated. 

Why did Julien hate you so much? 

Why did she never want to talk to you? 

Why couldn’t you just get along?

The truth was that ever since the first time you met Julien Baker, you were enthralled by her. Her presence commanded respect, her songs were soul-crushing in the best way possible, and it didn’t help that she was gorgeous. You wanted to be her friend(or more than her friend) so bad you must have done something wrong, something to irk her when you first met. Because why else would she continue to hate you so?

Julien was addicting, as much as you knew she didn’t like you, as much as she made it alarmingly clear, you kept going back to her, trying to win her over, trying to make her laugh. As you paced around your trailer your heart started to ache, and a feeling of unease overcame your senses. You tried to put a name to this feeling, yet all you could think of was how you felt like an out-of-tune guitar sounded. 

You rushed over to your sink, turned on the faucet, and collected a palm full of freezing water, then threw it all over your face. The cold rush felt like little daggers impaling your skin a dozen times over, but it was just what you needed. Something to direct you back to your senses, something that, momentarily: made you forget about the woman you were beguiled with. It also helped grant you a moment of respite from the scorching heat of the day.

You stood in front of the sink for a few minutes, trying to collect yourself before leaving the trailer to meet up with the others for your annual after-concert dinner. That was until you heard a series of rapid knocks at your door. Your head quickly turned in its direction, eyes widening. You took in a deep breath before grabbing a towel and wiping off your face in one clean swoop. You approached the door, hand resting on the knob before pulling it toward you.

If someone had asked who was standing there facing you, you wouldn’t have been able to tell them. Even though your mind chanted her name over and over again, as if you were being hypnotized by her indubitable beauty, you were not able to speak her name.

“(Y/N), we need to talk.” She spoke. It was then you noticed her button-up had been unbuttoned a little more since the last time you saw her. Her cheeks were redder, her knuckles white as they were made into tight fists. Even her hair was a little messier. None of this made it easier for you to speak, yet you managed to get 2 words out.

“Please leave,” the words came sprawling out your mouth before you even had a chance to think, and your arms reacted before your brain could tell them to stay still. You slammed the door in her face. Standing there still, you leaned your head against the door, trying to regain your composure.

On the other side, you heard Julien groan before calling out “Just open the door, we need to talk!”

On instinct you opened the door again, Julien’s face was red, flushed with anger. Before you even had a chance to think she stepped into your trailer, closing the door behind her. She started to pace around, not looking at you.

“What the hell Julien?” You asked, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

Julien turned around to face you, her eyes piercing into yours. “What do you mean ‘what the hell?’” 

“You stormed into my tour bus? I have every right to be pissed!”

Julien scoffed, then mumbled something you could barely hear.

“What was that?” You asked, voice laced with angst.

“I said, you are such a hypocrite!” Julien was fuming, “You call me out for acting weird around you when you act weird around me too!” 

You were taken aback by her sentence, you shot out a quick “What the hell are you talking about?”

Julien took a step towards you, “Do you think I don’t notice how all the damn time you are just a bundle of sunshine,” she threw her hands in the air, “How perfect you try to act around me?” 

“Julien-”

“No! Let me finish! You offer me help, you never say a bad thing about anyone around me, you’re so fucking nice it's driving me insane!”

“Have you ever thought that maybe I am a naturally nice fucking person? That I’m not acting a part around you?”

Julien scoffed, “Nobody is that perfect (Y/N).”

“I never said I was!” You countered back.

Julien moved her fingers towards her temple, massaging the skin on the bridge of her nose. “Ugh God don’t lie!”

“Why are you making me out to be the bad guy here?” You asked head tilted to the side.

“I am not, you're digging yourself your own little perfect ditch,” Julien smirked, proud of herself for her comment.

Groaning you said, “God why won’t you stop it with that?”

Again with a smirk: “What, something bothering the perfect little princess?”

“Julien maybe if you opened your goddamn eyes you’d see you fucked up your logic is right now.” You took a step away, hand flying to grab the countertop.

“My logic is perfectly fine, princess,”

“Stop calling me that!” You yelled.

Julien huffed out, “Stop being so perfect!”

“I am not perfect!” You snarled.

Julien was frustrated, “You are infuriating, you know that?”

The laugh that left your lips was one of confusion and anger, its message clear.  “Why are you so mad? You seemed fine ignoring me a couple of hours ago!”

“Why am I mad? Why am I mad?” Julien breathed out, if this were a cartoon you would have seen smoke pouring out her ears.

You looked at her disgruntled, “Yes Julien! Why are you mad? I have been nothing but kind to you, and yet you hate me!”

“I don’t hate you.” Julien snapped

A scoff left your lips and then “Then what is it?”

“I love you!” All of a sudden the world went quiet. Julien's face whitened, your grasp on the counter wavered and you felt your stomach sink. 

“What?” You asked for the comparison from your voice but 10 seconds ago varied so much to the volume it was at now. 

Julien looked at you, her eyes wide. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. 

You could feel the anger you held dissipate when you took in Julien’s deflated form. You started to reach out to her, “Julien-” She cut you off by walking towards your trailer door, ready to leave. Instead of letting her walk away, you ran after her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her away from the door. 

Julien looked into your eyes, her own filling with tears. You had no clue what was going through her mind at that moment but you could tell she was extremely upset. “(Y/N) I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” 

Quickly your hand moved into her hand, squeezing lightly. “Shhh, you didn’t. I swear, it’s just-” You stopped talking, feeling anxious when you looked into Julien’s eyes, her gaze was potent. 

Julien tilted her head confused at your sudden stop “Just?”

You looked at her, and swallowed the lump in your throat. In a hushed tone, you asked “Why did you say that?”

Julien looked between your eyes and then pulled you to a couch, sitting you both down. She sighed before saying “Because it’s the truth.” Her features held a fear, fear that you would reject her.

“You love… me?” Your question came out in a whisper. You were desperate for the answer.

Julien laughed a bit as if your question was funny. “Yes, I do.”

“Why?” You asked, straightening your back. Your brain worked overtime, trying to come up with a reason as to why she would say this to you, you couldn’t believe these words were anything but a fabrication meant to cause you more heartbreak.

Julien scoffed at your question, “Why? Are you kidding me?”

You shook your head.

Julien looked at you, confused “Because you’re you! You’re kind and you’re funny, and you just like saved a random girl's life tonight because you could!-”

“I didn’t save her life she was just a little dehydra-”

Julien moved her index finger out to your face, resting it on your lips. Immediately you shut up. She continued “You are infuriating, and I can’t stop thinking about you. I know I’ve been shitty recently, but I- I don’t have a good excuse. The best I could come up with was that I was scared of falling for you. I mean- God- look at you! You’re perfect! And I’m me!-”

“-Julien-” you started to speak but were cut off again by the tattooed woman in front of you. 

“-And I thought there was no way someone like you could ever love someone like me. So I tried to push my feelings down and I ended up hurting you in the process and I am so sorry. So I completely understand if you hate me and want me to leave. I just- I guess I just wanted to tell you that I- that I- that I love you.” Julien stuttered, her nerves getting the better of her. “I should probably just leave now, again I am so sor-”

“Julien if you say sorry one more time!” Cutting her off she looked at you with shock, terrified of your response. She had just laid her heart out to you on a platter. Now it was your decision to keep it safe and treat it like a prize, or throw it away like a piece of junk. “Julien, if you would just stop talking for one minute, please. I need to say something.” 

Julien nodded at you, you had almost forgotten her hand was in yours, the feeling felt so right, so familiar. “Do you not think you infuriate me as well? Why do you think I keep coming back to you? I want you. I feel like I need you to breathe.” You let every thought in your head out and watched as Julien’s face morphed from scared to confused. “It pains me to hear you say you feel like I could never love you. Please stop saying that, it-it hurts.” You paused again, waiting for an indication of what was going through Julien’s head. She looked at you, eyes wide like a deer caught in the middle of the road. Again, you found your voice and added “Because I do. I do love you. Possibly even more than you love me.”

Julien’s eyes finally had a look of relief on them, her shoulders slumped a bit as she lowered her head, a tear falling down her cheek. She took a deep breath before looking up at you, a smile growing on her face as she said, “I don’t think that is possible.”

Cocking your head you stared at her blankly, uttering a “What?” 

Julien’s demeanor changed from crying to cocky as she said“There's no way you could love me more than I love you.” Julien said with a smirk.

You could feel your heart swell, you felt like you were high on adrenaline, just beyond confused yet excited at how the night had led to this. You and Julien, sitting together, hands interlocked and faces just inches from each other. “Really? Because I can prove it.” You smirked back, your body felt electric like you could do anything.

“I’d like to see that.” Julien giggled, squeezing your hand.

“I bet you would, Jay.” you smiled

You heard a sharp inhale from Julien after you spoke her nickname, and in an instant Julien's demeanor changed, and like magnets her lips connected with yours. Your hands moved to grasp Julien’s cheek and upper arm, feeling her warm skin beneath your fingers. You could feel her soft lips intertwined with yours, brushing past each other. And when you pulled away you rested your foreheads together, catching your breath. 

“Thank you,” you heard Julien whisper, her breath fanning against your lips.

Bewildered, you pull away from Julien, looking at her confusedly, “Huh? What for?” 

“For proving that you are perfect,” Julien’s face wrinkles up as she smiles wide. She’s glowing and you think to yourself, if anyone is perfect…it's Julien.

“Awww Jay, stop!” you playfully frown at her, however, your face turns as red as a strawberry at Julien’s blatant compliment.

Julien shakes her head at you before muttering out 5 infuriating words “Never in a million years,” She pauses and then smirks again, “Princess.” You scoff and roll your eyes at her as she pulls you into her again. Hands running up and down your arms.

As you ease into her touch you can only think of how this

[shelbystales]

Honor and Blood - Part Eighteen (Previsouly Gypsy Wit)

Tommy Shelby x Reader - Masterlist

Read previous parts here:  1 -  2  -  3  -  4 -  5 -  6 -  7 -  8 -  9 -  10 -  11 - 12 -  13 -  14 -  15 - 16 - 17 -

Summary: you are a gypsy and your family lives near Birmingham. Tommy Shelby needs a favor and Johnny Dogs says you’re the one he should ask for. A meeting is scheduled and when Tommy meets you, he is instantly drawn to you.

Warning: Swearing, fluff, angst

A/N: This is the former Gypsy Wit story, you guys voted and this is the new title. Please comment and interact. tell me what you think! it means a looot to me if you do!

English is my second language so I apologize in advance for the grammar mistakes.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You woke up to the sound of screams and sirens outside Thomas’ house. As your vision adjusted, you could see Thomas hurriedly putting on his clothes.

“What’s happening?” you asked in a hoarse voice.

“I don’t know, go back to sleep. I’ll handle it,” he said, but you ignored him and slowly started getting out from under the covers.

He left the room as you put on his pajamas, deciding to grab the first thing you saw as you opened his dresser.

“It’s her shop,” Polly said when he found her.

“Whose shop?” Thomas asked, bewildered, looking at Arthur running into the house.

“Y/n’s,” Polly answered, making Thomas breath deeply

“It’s bad. There’s fire everywhere,” Arthur spoke, a bit out of breath.

“Fuck,” Thomas whispered, rubbing his eyes.

“The firefighters are there, trying to control the fire, but it’s already consumed everything, Tommy,” Arthur clarified.

You appeared on the staircase, descending the steps slowly while rubbing your eyes, wiping away the sleep and trying to wake up your body.

When you looked at those present in the room, you frowned.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, confused by the worried looks.

“Sit down, love,” Tommy said, walking over to you.

“What’s happened?” you repeated, now with more firmness in your voice.

“Your shop is on fire, dear,” Polly said.

“What? No!” Your gaze shifted from Tommy to Arthur, from Arthur to Polly, hoping they’d start laughing and say it was a prank or something. But they stared at you with concern in their eyes.

Without much thought, you rushed past them and dashed out barefoot through the streets of Small Heath. 

You needed to see with your own eyes.

The cold wind on your face felt like a burn, but you didn’t stop running. The freezing air entering your lungs, although uncomfortable, couldn’t halt you. You ran as if your speed could make a difference.

Your mind was racing with thoughts. Who did this? If it was someone, if it was an accident. The dozens of carpets in the shop, all gone. All the hard work of your people… going to waste so quickly.

When you arrived, you saw the flames. You brought your hand to your face, a sign almost of desperation.

“No, no, no,” you whispered, getting closer to the scene.

There were several people on the street watching the firefighters in action. People you recognized, like the baker who had a shop near yours, the owners of neighboring stores, and also people who lived nearby.

“You can’t get any closer, ma'am,” the firefighter said to you as he rushed by with a bucket of water.

“Bucket?” you muttered to yourself as he moved away, confused about where the hose would be. That’s why the fire spread so quickly; they’re using fucking BUCKETS.

“Y/n,” you heard Thomas call you from behind.

You turned to him, confused, not knowing exactly what you were feeling. You wanted to scream, curse, tell everyone to go to hell, but all you did was cry.

Tommy quickly hugged you and whispered, “It’s going to be okay, we’ll figure this out.”

“They’re… using buckets,” was all you managed to say between sobs.

An hour later, the firefighters finally managed to control the fire. At that moment, you were sitting in the Garrison, looking out the window at everything the firefighters were doing. Polly had made tea, but Tommy had poured you a whisky, and that’s what you were drinking.

You felt defeated. As if you had lost everything, even though you knew it wasn’t entirely true. 

To make matters worse, during your barefoot run, you stepped on a shard of glass, and your foot hurt. It was now soaked in a mixture of whisky and water that Polly had prepared to prevent infections.

After Thomas asked some questions, he was informed that the nearest water source had been cut off for some reason. That’s why they were using buckets.

The police had arrived and were questioning those present, trying to determine if it was a criminal act or not. They had already interrogated you, trying to find out any mistake you could have made to cause this fire. If you left any candles on or any sort of fire. Obviously, the answer was no.

John walked in through the door, followed by your brother and your father. 

You stood up and hugged them both at the same time. You wanted to cry, but you had already cried so much that it seemed like there were no tears left.

“Who did this?” Your father asked, holding your face in his hands.

“I don’t know,” you said with a lack of energy and shrugged.

Patrick looked out of the Garrison window with a sad expression. “Everyone is going to be so sad,” he said.

“Yea, you don’t have to tell me” you said, sitting back on your chair and putting your feet back into Polly’s mixture

“If someone did this. We’ll now” Thomas said. 

He was sitting close to you, but he was giving you space. You needed time to understand everything, it all happened too fast. 

“What are we going to do?” Patrick asked you. He always saw you as an example, as a guide.

“I still don’t know,” you honestly replied. It felt like the ending of a terrible book, where there was no more story to be told because the main character had been defeated.

Although it might be comfortable to assume the role of a victim, it didn’t suit you.

“Well, um,” you took a deep breath and a sip of your whisky, “maybe the jewels survived the fire. We’ll have to check. Starting tomorrow, we’ll begin repairs and continue production. We’ll hope to have at least a few carpets to sell when the store is fixed, which will take a while, since everyone’s morale will be low. That’s only natural. We don’t have the luxury to stop, we need to keep going.”

“Maybe, just maybe,” your father approached you and knelt in front of you, “this is a sign.”

“No, it’s not a damn sign,” you said, already knowing what he was going to say.

“Y/n, our people aren’t welcome here. This could have been done by anyone,” your father continued. “I told you it was a bad idea, our people aren’t meant to stay in one place.”

“With all due respect, Dad. Just shut up,” you said, and he sighed, standing up and moving away from you.

“I’m going home,” he said, leaving the Garrison.

“The last thing we need right now is you two arguing,” Pat rick said with a passive tone. “There are two carpets ready in the warehouse, we made them yesterday. They turned out well, but people are still trying to learn how to use the machines.” You nodded, still focused on your shop through the window. Patrick looked at Thomas and said, “Take care of her.” With a slight nod, Thomas agreed.

Patrick followed their father out of the Garrison.

You brought both hands to your face; you were exhausted. It didn’t even seem like you had just had one of the best nights of your life, one of the most promising moments in your relationship with Thomas. Less than five hours ago, you were having dinner, and he had shared with you, that’s something. Now, all that good feeling had been wiped away, consumed by this mixture of anger and sadness.

“We’re going to take care of the bastards who did this, Y/n. Yeah. Don’t you worry,” Arthur said, his voice approaching you. Removing your hands from your face, you saw him sitting at the table with you and Thomas.

Arthur’s presence was a comfort, a reminder that the Shelby family stood united even in the face of adversity. Thomas remained silent, his eyes fixed on you. 

“Thank you, Arthur,” you managed to force a smile.

“Wanna go home?” Thomas finally spoke up.

“I have to check on the jewelry,” you said, your mind racing with worry.

“I can have someone do that,” Thomas said, his concern evident. “Come on, you need rest.”

“We all bloody need it,” Polly chimed in, exhaling a lungful of smoke.

“I won’t be able to rest,” you admitted, your gaze still fixed on what was left of your shop.

“But you need to,” Thomas insisted, his voice gentle yet firm.

“Leave the girl, Thomas,” Polly instructed, her tone leaving no room for argument. He nodded in agreement.

Once the fire was completely extinguished, you approached the firefighters, who warned you that the structure might be compromised, with a risk of collapsing. They urged you to be cautious and swift. 

They also informed you that you wouldn’t be able to start the fixing processes, the city council would need to come and conduct an assessment to determine if the building is at risk or not. Only after that, you could start the renovations.

As you walked through the wreckage of the shop, the reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks. The charred remains of what once held so much promise and hard work were now reduced to ruins.

The jewelry that had been meticulously crafted and displayed with pride was now likely either destroyed or heavily damaged. The thought made your heart ache, but you knew you couldn’t afford to dwell on it now. You had to salvage what you could.

Amidst the debris, you spotted the glint of metal and glass. You found a few earrings and few necklaces scattered around. Some in a better state than others. Thomas helped you on the search, getting his suit all dirty with the soot from the wreckage. 

Why the hell was he wearing a suit? You frowned for a bit, changing your focus. He always had to look good, to present himself well, you admired that, but sometimes it felt stupid. 

As you continued your search, your mind was already working on the steps ahead. 

After confirming that there wasn’t much left to salvage, Thomas waited for you outside the shop as you took in the scene around you for a while longer. 

Stepping out, you saw the Shelbys engaged in conversation with the police officer. Glancing up at the sky, you noticed that the sun had already risen, and life on the street was beginning to stir awake.

Thomas approached you, his gaze sympathetic and reassuring. “Are you alright?”

You let out a sigh, a mix of exhaustion and frustration. “I will be.” He gently took your hand, offering silent support. You managed a small smile, appreciating his gesture “It’s just… a lot to take in.” He nodded, his understanding evident. “What did the cop say?”

“Some people heard voices, other people saw things. They will investigate this properly, but it looks like it was criminal,” Thomas explained, making you sigh in response. 

He let go of your hand to fix his pajamas on you. He closed one more button, not liking how much cleavage you had for show, truth was, his clothes were too big for you  

“Polly suggested you help in the betting shop today. To keep your mind busy, do you want that?” he asked

“It’s better than staying at home with my dad,” you admitted, appreciating the distraction. You looked at him, wondering what the day had in store for you. “What will I have to do?”

“Count money,” he replied with a slight smirk, his attempt at lightening the mood. You couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

“Counting money doesn’t sound too bad,” you remarked, feeling a sense of normalcy returning.

“I’ll make sure it’s not too boring for you.” he gave you a malicious smirk that sent shivers down your spine, feeling your core throb 

“Damn you, Thomas Shelby” You smiled and he held his hand to you. You took it and you both walked back to his house.

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[grogusmum]

💚March Fic Madness - Fic Recs💚

I've joined @the-blind-assassin-12 Alyssa's March Fic Madness! The goal is 63 reblogs/reads in 31 days (I'm not sure that I will get there its been A Month!) and I think I've not put the tag on everyfic ive read/reblogged in March (I'm going to go back to add tags to any I missed).

With all these incredible writers, I am reccing every one! As always, mind the warnings

Adrift by @morallyinept ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6 (Frankie Morales)

The Producer @coulsons-fullmetal-cellist (Dieter Bravo)

Are You Sure You're Ready For This by @missredherring (Marcus Pike)

Drunk Text by@kteague (Frankie Morales)

Fluffbruary: 13 by @oonajaeadira (Jack Daniels)

The Sweepstakes: Frankie Morales epilogue by @katareyoudrilling

The Sweepstakes: Dave York epilogue by @katareyoudrilling

Joel, Interrupted by @iamskyereads

You Were Marked: Day One @handspunyarns (Din Djarin)

Baker's Dozen Ezra part 2 @avastrasposts

Day 10: Comet by @nerdieforpedro (Din Djarin)

Uneven Odds ch 1 and ch 2 by @theetherealbloom (Din Djarin)

Darkroom Din Intro Crit Solargrams Knock Before You Enter** The Bar Is Set High Overdeveloped** Muse Get Away With** Letting The Light In by @honestly-shite

You Brought Poison Flowers Chapter 1: Larkspur Chapter 2: Yarrow Chapter 3: Lettuce * Chapter 4: Echinacea Chapter 5: Onion * Chapter 6: Cherry * Chapter 7: Maple Chapter 8: Beet * by @ohforficsake (Joel Miller)

Lush by @the-scandalorian (Din Djarin)

We Had Today by @deadhumourist

He With the Dark Curls, You With the Watercolor Eyes by @hellishjoel (Frankie Morales)

The Lack of Kenergy by @coulsons-fullmetal-cellist (Dieter Bravo)

G.O.M.E.R. by @disgruntledspacedad (Frankie Morales)

Threefold by @insomniamamma (Ezra)

She Made Me Feel by @nerdieforpedro (Din Djarin)

Hunters Gambit Part One (501 AS) | Part Two (501 AS) | Part Three (501 AS) Part Four (501 AS) by @chaoticgeminate (Frankie Morales)

Bright Lights ii and iii by @ezrasbirdie (Dieter Bravo)

Silent Affection by @kteague (Frankie Morales)

E. + "Are you sure you're ready for this?" by @missredherring (Ezra)

Not My Stars ch 11 by @keldabe-kriff (Din Djarin)

Able by @ladamedusoif (Joel Miller)

final tally 51

Thanks to all you beautiful, brilliant writers!

It occurred to me that I should include the 4 fic I posted this month -

Class of 1974 Taking Chances Part 3 All In (Javier Peña)

Please Mister Please (Joel Miller)

November: Mourning Moon (Frankie Morales)

Posting tomorrow: IRL Part 3 (Javi Gutiérrez)

[burntheedges]

March Fic Madness - Fic Recs 💕 pt 2

Apparently I hit the max amount of tags in part 1. lol

Here's my March Fic Madness recs, continued! I recommend every fic in this post but please heed the tags/warnings!

Current total count: 87 reads Date updated: 3/31

...

Joel Miller

Can you please be mine? by @mermaidgirl30, x f!reader run rabbit by mermaidgirl30, x f!reader Centrifugation (ch 6) by @theclairvoyage, x f!reader Something to Fight For by @auteurdelabre, x f!reader My, My, Such a Sweet Surprise by mermaidgirl30, x f!reader Over the Edge by @ilovepedro, x f!reader Joel on a first date blurb by @ghotifishreads, x f!reader

Frankie Morales

Grays by @fuckyeahdindjarin, x f!reader (reread) in the locker room by @undercoverpena, x f!reader sympathy for the devil (ch 5) by chloeangelic (ao3), x f!reader Sweat by @sawymredfox, x f!reader

Dave York

constellations in his eyes by @janaispunk, x f!reader

Marcus Pike

The Crucible by @whataperfectwasteoftime, x f!reader (reread) inappropriate by @toomanystoriessolittletime, x f!reader Colic by @bluestar22x, x f!reader

Dieter Bravo

The Lovesick Lines by @sinpathyforthedevilish, x f!reader Closed Position (ch 1) by @mysterious-moonstruck-musings, x OFC

Din Djarin

Expectations by @djarinmuse, x f!reader

Pero Tovar

A Baker's Dozen** by @avastrasposts, x f!reader (epilogue)

note: I queued some reblogs for today and tomorrow so if you haven't seen it yet, it's coming!