#i guess i'll make that decision later

[crowncursed]

I really don't need another blog but my Stanley Pines muse has been reawakened recently

[theirloveisgross]

.

[yamujiburo]

Here's an arc I thought about doing but won't do because, it'd be a bit too sad and also it's too similar to the Turing Point Arc I already did and also it would be long. But I'll write it here for you angst enjoyers. This ended up being longer than I thought.

Despite getting the "okay" from Ash to date Jessie, Delia still worries that she's not doing the right thing or being a bad mom. Up until now she'd convinced herself that she had the right to be selfish for once after knowing only sacrifice and putting herself last.

Jessie and Ash, while not as antagonistic towards each other, still go at it. A Pikachu zap here, an angry "twerp" being uttered there. The guilt settles in for Delia and figures that it's best to just cut things off before things potentially get worse or before she gets too attached to Jessie. Her son comes first after all. That's what she signed up for when becoming a parent.

She sits Jessie down, eyes watery (it's the first time Jessie's ever seen Delia come close to crying). Delia says she thinks they should end things. Jessie is stunned but accepts it quickly. She sucks it up in the moment, puts a resigned smile on her face and tells Delia she'll leave immediately and not to worry about her. Delia's also broken up about it but promised herself she'd never cry over a goodbye and she wasn't gonna start now.

Jessie goes to James and Meowth's place greeted similarly to this, lightly teasing her about blowing it with Delia, and she breaks down sobbing. Oops it's real this time. James and Meowth do everything in their power to make her feel better. They let her know that things like this happen and they're ready to go wherever she wants to go (knowing that it'd likely be to painful for her to stay in Pallet). As much as she wants to leave, she doesn't want James and Meowth to lose the good thing they have going. She's not in the right headspace to make any decisions so she'll get to it later.

Ash returns home after doing a little training at Oak's lab. He notices Jessie's not around and asks his mom where she is. Delia is about to tell him but can't quite bring herself to say the truth out loud yet. She simply says "I don't know". Ash looks disappointed. "Aw man, I wanted to see if she wanted to battle. She makes a good battle buddy for all of my newer, baby Pokémon." Delia perks up that this. As quickly as he came, he leaves again to go train his Pokémon.

Later, Delia approaches Ash, asking him if he really meant that what he said about Jessie being a good battle partner. He gives her an enthusiastic "yeah!" and tells her that it's been nice having another battle ready trainer around since there's not many in Pallet. Delia starts to pry a little more. "I thought you and Jessie didn't get along?" Ash is confused, and tells Delia they get along great! "Jessie doesn't steal anymore! And she's getting better at battling which is cool." Delia brings up that she's head them argue before. "Oh... well I guess that's just how we are. I'd be weirded out if she was suddenly too nice to me all the time. Jessie's actually a lot like Misty. But taller!" This gives Delia a lot to think about but what's done is done and it's no use pressing on. It's easier this way.

The next morning Delia's getting ready for work. She must not have noticed that she was acting weird but Ash picks up on it. "What's wrong mom?" Delia's shocked he noticed (he's not usually this perceptive). She tells him it's nothing and that she just slept bad. "Hm. But Jessie says that when you're upset you get really quiet and intense." Delia notices that she was pretty intensely mixing the pancake batter. "Jessie told you that?" Ash nods. "Hey speaking of, where is Jessie? Haven't seen her since yesterday." Delia stops mixing and tells Ash that she and Jessie aren't together anymore. Ash is confused and upset at the idea of Jessie doing something that would hurt his mom enough for them to break up. Delia lets him know that Jessie didn't do anything like that and that them breaking up was just for the best. But Ash questions this, pointing out that he's never seen Delia as happy as she was when Jessie was there and also how Delia looks really sad now. Delia can't argue with that but then tells him that it's complicated. Ash, to Delia's surprise, looks a bit disappointed. He's bummed he wasn't able to say goodbye first and asks if she thinks Jessie would still be willing to come by and train with him sometimes. Delia asks him once more if he was really okay with her and Jessie dating. "Yeah I thought I said that already? Jessie's pretty cool when she's not being evil. And she really likes Pokémon which is a plus!" Such simple criteria. Delia's now worried that she might've made a mistake. She finishes making breakfast and heads to work.

At the restaurant she's met by James. She can feel an awkwardness hanging in the air. She knows that James knows. Before she can say anything James tells Delia thank you for employing him and helping him, Meowth and Jessie get back on their feet but that he's going to quit working at the restaurant and that they'll likely be leaving Pallet soon. Delia's heart sinks. There's now a ticking clock and she has to decide what she wants to do SOON. She asks James where Jessie is. James hesitantly tells her that she's at his and Meowth's place. Delia pleads with James to work the restaurant for one more day at least and to cover this shift. She has to go talk to Jessie. He agrees, hoping that this is a good thing.

Delia runs to James and Meowth's place. She knocks on the door upon arrival and waits. It takes a moment but she hears the door unlock. Jessie opens the door, disheveled, tears and snot all over her face, draped in a blanket. Jessie notices it's Delia and, frightened, slams the door. Delia's stunned for a moment and goes to knock on the door again but before she can the door opens. This time Jessie's tears are gone, her hair's fixed and she ditched the blanket. "Oh hey, Delia! What brings you here?" Delia can't help but be charmed. But this is serious. She shakes it off and asks if they could talk. Jessie invites her in. They get to the couch and Jessie starts frantically cleaning up all the crumpled tissues and dirty dishes off the ground. "Heh I caught a cold yesterday. A one day cold. I'm fine now." Delia doesn't call out the obvious lie and gets straight to the point.

She tells Jessie that she's worried she made a mistake. She made a panicked decision that she was hoping would protect Ash and her future self. But now realizes that she was afraid of the idea that she'd made a selfish decision by dating her. It was a selfish decision but that didn't mean it was a bad one. She was the happiest she'd been, Jessie and Ash were learning to get along and were getting along much better than she'd though. She acknowledges that Jessie has been there for Ash in a way that she can't quite be and is also grateful to her for managing to keep Ash home a little longer. She asks if Jessie would be willing to take her back (despite the distress she caused). Jessie starts sobbing with happy tears. She tearfully says she'll try even harder to get along with Ash and be a better person. Delia reassures her that she's doing just fine.

They kiss passionately but then realize it's weird that they're making out in James in Meowth's place and say they'll continue later. Delia tells Jessie to head back home and that Ash is looking forward to battling with her (and she also needs to let James and Meowth not to quit their jobs).

The end~

[finefeatheredfriend]

what was it called again? decision paralysis? anyway i've been sitting here for at least 15 minutes staring at my computer screen trying to choose between the two level 10 farming professions on stardew valley and i have made no significant progress in coming to a decision

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader

Simon's short term rental is almost claustrophobic.

He tries to stay out of it, tries to keep himself busy. Active. After a week since you asked him to go home, to give you some space, he noticed he's lost weight. The thick of his ribs, his stomach, his thighs, has thinned out, cutting his bulk, exposing more muscle.

The grief feels more fresh than it has in years. Talking to you, telling you, has dredged up long buried things, agony and regret, pain that steals his breath and leaves him paralyzed. He forces himself not to think of it, but it still finds a way to creep in. To make him feel torn apart, turns him into a ghost.

He walks a lot. Walks to the store. Walks to the pub. Walks to the park. Sometimes he sits on the bench and watches mums push their buggies, wondering if it's something you might enjoy, if you were feeling better. Wishing he had made more of an effort to get you out of the flat, into the sunshine.

He's still walking to your building at night, standing under the tree, watching the lights flicker on and off. Your windows stay lit longer now, periods of sleep more infrequent, leaving him to worry that you're not getting enough rest, not taking care of yourself.

He walked all morning into early afternoon today. Tried to quell the nausea swirling in his stomach, tried not to watch the clock, or count the seconds. Tried to brace himself for the bittersweet he knew was coming.

>Hey, I'm going to be leaving pretty soon for work, and could be gone for a while. Could I see Orion before I go? Spend some time with him?

>Sure.

Your reply still rings in his ears. Short. Torturous.

But he doesn't blame you. He did it the wrong way. You have a child, his child, to protect, to take care of. Of course, you should be concerned. Maybe he should have found a better way to tell you. Maybe he shouldn't have told you at all.

A large part of him, the instinctual part, considered refusing you, when you asked him to give you some time, and he still hasn't made a decision about what he will do in the long run.

It would be so easy, to hide you away. To take you in the middle of the night, wake you up in a brand new home, high in hill, in a whole new country across a border.

When the knock on his door finally comes, he crams the overflow of emotion coursing through his heart into a teeny tiny box, and prays he'll be able to keep a lid on it.

"Hey." Orion turns in your grip, looking for Simon's voice, and you smother a wince at the shift in his weight.

"Hi." You look through him. Past him. To the left of his elbow, at his shoulder, the floor. Anywhere but his eyes.

"Thanks for letting me spend some time with him." Your lips go flat, but you shuffle the baby into his arms, managing to avoid skin to skin contact. It makes his stomach hurt worse than it already did.

"Of course, you're... you're his dad." You peek around him, trying to get a better look of the flat. "Do you uh, have stuff for him?"

"I went to the store."

"Okay. Well, good." You hand him the bag next. "I wasn't sure what you had so there are a few changes of clothes in there, just in case, and some bottles. They should probably go in the fridge. Diapers, some toys. Just in case... I didn't want.... I wanted you to have everything you might need." It's thoughtful of you, and he wants to smile, but you won't look at him.

"Thank you." You nod.

"Alright well, I'll come pick him up later? Just text me I guess, when you're ready. Hopefully he'll take a bottle."

"I can bring him-"

"No, that's okay." you cut him off sharply, shaking your head. He frowns.

"Why not?"

"I- I don't mind, coming by to get him."

"But if it's dark..."

"I can manage." You snap, and he purses his lips, but says nothing.

"Alright well, see you later then." You make some noncommittal noise, and then step closer, mouth pressing to Orion's cheek.

"Bye baby, love you." You finally look up at him, really look, and he holds his breath when he sees it all in your eyes. Pain. Confusion. Worry.

He did that.

The evening goes too fast. He manages to get Ry to nap, and drink over half a bottle, a huge win, but spends most of the time just holding him, walking him in circles in his flat, trying to memorize the feeling of his baby in his arms. He's fussier than usual, crying anytime Simon tries to put him down, which he doesn't mind, but concerns him. Is he like this at home, with you? Is this why you've been up more at night?

Still, it's over too soon, and when you're knocking on the door again, he stands on the other side a few seconds too long, wishing he had more time.

He's always wishing he had more time.

"How was he?"

"Good. More fussy than usual, but I got him to take most of a bottle. Is he doing alright?"

"He's been like this, the past few days. He's either going through a growth spurt, or developing some late colic. I hope it's the growth spurt." Oh no.

"Well, I'm here if you need anything. If you want me to take him at all." You nod.

"When uh... when are you leaving?"

"Two weeks or so. Once the guys get back, they'll have a few days debrief and then... we'll be off."

"Okay, well. Just let me know, when you want him again?"

"I will." He kisses Orion's cheek, whispering in his ear how much he loves him, before passing him to you. You have to reposition your posture to support his weight, and he winces. "Are you okay?" You blink at him, skeptical and surprised.

"I'm great Simon. Really peachy."

"Look, I know I really sprung-"

"Sprung? Is that what you're calling that? Simon... you blindsided me. You... you-" He holds up his hands.

"I'm much more careful now. I've learned a lot of hard lessons, and I would never, ever allow anything to happen to you or Orion." His shoulders slump, and he drops his eyes to the floor. Ashamed. Grief trying to work its way, trying to break him down just as it has all these years before. "I've learned from my mistakes." There's a long, uncomfortable since between the two of you, one that Orion fills with fussing, and then your voice cracks.

"Simon, that wasn't your fault.... I'm not... I'm not upset about... that. Or anything, that happened to you. I mean, I'm upset but not at you for that..." You take a deep breath. "I am upset for you, that those things happened to you, that you've been through such trauma, such horrible things." Tears wet your cheeks, but he doesn't move. Doesn't breathe. "I would never hold that against you. I'm upset about your job. And the danger it puts us in. I'm upset that I didn't know that you'd been gone for weeks, possibly months at a time. I'm upset that you promised me you'd be here, and then never mentioned the super secret task force that will... take you away from us." Orion cries, and you bounce him back and forth, finally looking Simon dead in the eye, facing him head on. "It feels like you've been lying to me, for weeks now. I thought we were in this, together, that we were- we were building something, together. Now it just feels like... I could lose you at any second instead. That Orion could lose his father, grow up without you." The last word rips from your lips in a sob, and you shake your head as he steps close.

"You will never lose me. Do you understand? That will never happen." He vows it, swears it, forces it out into the universe as a covenant, but you only shake your head again, sadly.

"You can't promise that."

[uzurakis]

REACTIONS TO YOUR FIRST KISS FOR ‘EM!

featuring: itadori yuuji. megumi fushiguro. yuuta okkotsu. gojo satoru.

n. back with the short drabbles for each character! i also made a geto ver. but i scrapped it cause i didn’t feel it as much as these ones. maybe i’ll make another one in a short time :)

GOJO SATORU. his reaction was anything but conventional. instead of being taken aback or surprised, he met your embrace with a playful glint in his eyes, a smirk dancing on his lips.

"was that all you've got?" he teased, his voice a velvet whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. his fingers traced a tantalizing path along your jawline, his touch igniting a spark of desire that lingered in the air between you. you couldn't help but laugh at his cheeky remark, a mixture of amusement and affection bubbling up within you. "oh, is someone asking for more, satoru?" you replied, your own tone laced with playful challenge as you leaned in closer, the space between you charged with a magnetic tension.

satoru’s smirk widened into a knowing grin, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "maybe i am," he admitted, his voice a low rumble that sent a thrill racing through you. "but only if you're up for it."

ITADORI YUUJI. one second thought, he should be processing what happened just now. one second later, his body simply moved on its own to kiss you back. everything happened so fast—a liking exchanged between the two of you in a matter of seconds. the adrenaline in itadori’s veins wouldn't stop flowing until he made the decision to lean in for a kinder, softer kiss.

“you just kissed me twice already,” you giggled as he grin sheepishly, “did you realize that?”. he remarked with a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes, “then you just lost the race against me.”

"lost the race, huh?" you retorted. "well, i guess i'll just have to pick up the pace then." with a lightness in your heart and a newfound determination, you leaned in, closing the distance between your lips with gentle yet purposeful intent. "there," you whispered, "now it's even." itadori chuckled softly at your playful remark, his eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and adoration. "well, if that case," he began, his voice laced with a hint of mischief, "i suppose i'll have to make it three then.”

YUUTA OKKOTSU. as your lips met yuuta’s in a tender, unexpected kiss, his initial reaction was one of gentle surprise. his heart fluttered with a mix of emotions, unsure of how to respond in that fleeting moment of intimacy.

his smile broke through the uncertainty, a soft, genuine expression that mirrored the warmth of your touch. "well, that was unexpected," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement as a small laugh escaped his lips. you couldn't help but giggle at his reaction, the sound echoing softly in the quiet space between you. "sorry, i couldn't resist," you confessed, your cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and affection.

yuuta's laughter grew, a melodic sound that filled the air with joy and lightness. "no need to apologize," he reassured you, his gaze meeting yours with a tender warmth. "i think unexpected kisses might just be my new favorite thing." at last, as he gazed into your eyes, he realized that in that moment, he didn't need to have all the answers. all he knew was that he wanted to savor this shared intimacy, to revel in the beauty of your touch and the warmth of your presence.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO. no words, just a silent pause with his gaze fixed on yours. as the red colour on his face became more apparent, his pupils widened and his brows lifted. megumi's mouth was already open, but no words came out of it. he could feel his heart thumping against his chest, and the sound echoed in the silence between them. did your lips really just brush his? perhaps it was just his illusion. was that it? or was it not?

"i'm sorry if you're not comfortable with, yeah, that." after a few seconds of stillness, you hesitantly spoke out. "i should've asked—" but your words were stopped short by his exclaimed 'no!'. "i just," megumi felt like he could sink into the depths of the moment, drowning in the ocean of feelings that swirled within, "i thought you weren't into that kind of... stuff."

you too grew quiet after his words, but before you could respond, he steadily got closer and closer, until the only thing that separated the two of you was a small breath you exhaled. "can i?" he asked gently, there was a raw sense of longing, a weakness exposed for you to see, and it touched something deep inside him. the only response you offered was a nod, which is more than enough to signal his lips to touch yours for the second time. and this time, megumi just made a confession of emotions too profound to be articulated.

@uzurakis

[nowoyas]

Trying to make sense of the Nanowrimo statement to the best of my abilities and fuck, man. It's hard.

It's hard because it seems to me that, first and foremost, the organization itself has forgotten the fucking point.

Nanowrimo was never about the words themselves. It was never about having fifty thousand marketable words to sell to publishing companies and then to the masses. It was a challenge, and it was hard, and it is hard, and it's supposed to be. The point is that it's hard. It's hard to sit down and carve out time and create a world and create characters and turn these things into a coherent plot with themes and emotional impact and an ending that's satisfying. It's hard to go back and make changes and edit those into something likable, something that feels worth reading. It's hard to find a beautifully-written scene in your document and have to make the decision that it's beautiful but it doesn't work in the broader context. It's fucking hard.

Writing and editing are skills. You build them and you hone them. Writing the way the challenge initially encouraged--don't listen to that voice in your head that's nitpicking every word on the page, put off the criticism for a later date, for now just let go and get your thoughts out--is even a different skill from writing in general. Some people don't particularly care about refining that skill to some end goal or another, and simply want to play. Some people sit down and try to improve and improve and improve because that is meaningful to them. Some are in a weird in-between where they don't really know what they want, and some have always liked the idea of writing and wanted a place to start. The challenge was a good place for this--sit down, put your butt in a chair, open a blank document, and by the end of the month, try to put fifty thousand words in that document.

How does it make you feel to try? Your wrists ache and you don't feel like any of the words were any good, but didn't you learn something about the process? Re-reading it, don't you think it sounds better if you swap these two sentences, if you replace this word, if you take out this comma? Maybe you didn't hit 50k words. Maybe you only wrote 10k. But isn't it cool, that you wrote ten thousand words? Doesn't it feel nice that you did something? We can try again. We can keep getting better, or just throwing ourselves into it for fun or whatever, and we can do it again and again.

I guess I don't completely know where I'm going with this post. If you've followed me or many tumblr users for any amount of time, you've probably already heard a thousand times about how generative AI hurts the environment so many of us have been so desperately trying to save, about how generative AI is again and again used to exploit big authors, little authors, up-and-coming authors, first time authors, people posting on Ao3 as a hobby, people self-publishing e-books on Amazon, traditionally published authors, and everyone in between. You've probably seen the statements from developers of these "tools", things like how being required to obtain permission for everything in the database used to train the language model would destroy the tool entirely. You've seen posts about new AI tools scraping Ao3 so they can make money off someone else's hobby and putting the legality of the site itself at risk. For an organization that used to dedicate itself to making writing more accessible for people and for creating a community of writers, Nanowrimo has spent the past several years systematically cracking that community to bits, and now, it's made an official statement claiming that the exploitation of writers in its community is okay, because otherwise, someone might find it too hard to complete a challenge that's meant to be hard to begin with.

I couldn't thank Nanowrimo enough for what it did for me when I started out. I don't know how to find community in the same way. But you can bet that I've deleted my account, and I'll be finding my own path forward without it. Thanks for the fucking memories, I guess.

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Zoro is jealous of how impressed you are with another man's strength. A few insults and broken breezeblocks later, he makes sure he's the only man you have eyes on.]

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Roronoa Zoro is a man too busy to boast. He perceives his skills and attributes as a means to an end and not a goal in itself; achieving unmatched swordsmanship is but a method of becoming the world's greatest swordsman.

It's completely useless to waste one's potential only to earn fame and admiration. If one sees their abilities as a goal, they tend to abandon their growth once the goal is achieved, never discovering what they can really do. Therefore, boasting is a manmade border between the current state of things and the wonderful possibilities.

Or so he tells himself.

The crowd cheers again as the blue-haired boy breaks another stack of planks. Each time he adds one more obstacle, the mob of onlookers is sure that this time, he's bound to fail. They've been wrong so far.

Zoro and you have been watching the show from affair but only because you refused to walk away. Sure, on your adventures you have seen people or unimaginable skills and attributes. Nevertheless, the man on the makeshift stage is just that - a man. No Devil Fruit, no canons-for-arms or anything of this sort. Just a person with determination and years of practice.

"Damn, that's some strength," you say in awe. "It's amazing."

Zoro only scoffs, scowling while he stands with his arms crossed. "Come on, this is nothing."

"Oh, right, breaking a stack of five wooden planks with your bare fist is just a regular Tuesday, eh?"

"Definitely not for a twig like him," he answers while still glaring at the boastful plank-breaker. "A gust of wind could break his bones."

Something about his huffing and puffing doesn't sit right with you. After all, why does he care in the first place? Zoro is not the kind of person to be interested in things that are not directly connected to him. It's almost as if...

Is he jealous of the attention?

"You know what, Zoro?" When you turn to look at him, he notices the challenging glint in your eyes. You're up to no good, aren't you? "I'd love to see you try and break even one plank."

He scoffs again but this time he looks almost offended at the implication. "I wouldn't even get out of bed for one."

"That's not a good measure." You shake your head decisively. "It's already hard to make you get up." Then, an idea sparks in your thoughts - something he's sure not to reject. "Let's do it like this. If you can one-up that guy, I'll do whatever you want."

Zoro's brown eyes stare into yours with a new intensity. He seems to be trying to guess how serious you are about your promise. "Anything goes?" he asks suspiciously.

"Nothing that will tarnish my dignity." As a warning, you point your finger at him. "Or dirty my shirt."

Then, to your utmost satisfaction, he gives you a smirk beaming with confidence.

"You're going to regret this."

"I hope so," you answer.

He clenches his jaw at your frivolous tone, his mind racing in a thousand different directions at once. What do you mean you "hope to regret" your wager? What exactly do you think he'll ask of you?

No matter the answers to his questions, Zoro has found a new source of motivation inside him. He can ask anything. As nice as that sounds, and he's sure to let his imagination run amok, the more satisfying prize will be the look of awe you're bound to give him. If you're impressed with this boastful twig of a man, how dazzled will you be with Zoro when he beats him? Maybe you'll finally stop looking at other men like they're actually worth even a second of your time or a speck of your attention.

"Hey, wood boy!" Zoro exclaims at the top of his lungs while making his way through the excited crowd towards the makeshift stage. "Let's see who's stronger."

"A brave challenger appears!" The blue-haired man announces. Whispers erupt among the onlookers. "Or maybe he's stupid?" he directs his question at his fans. Then, when Zoro enters the stage, the man looks at him with a feeling of superiority smeared across his face. "I'll have you know, I'm the local champion."

Up close, the blue-haired man looks even less impressive than from the ground. He's rather scrawny compared to men of similar strength and he could definitely use a long bath. Zoro is almost offended that you'd look at this poser of a clown instead of him.

"Only local?" Zoro asks. He erupts in laughter, making his opponent's expression visibly falter. "Not much of a title. I've seen rocks bigger than this island."

The whispers turn into loud conversations as half of the crowd demands Zoro to take back his words and the other half begs for a showdown to see who's the true master between them.

"Ambitious!" the blue-haired man exclaims with fake casualness, clearly trying to hide his own uneasiness. "That's what I like to see. But I must warn you that breaking wood with the sheer power of your bare fist is neither easy nor simple. Are you sure you can manage?"

Zoro laughs again. His posture only grows with confidence while the other man seems to be becoming smaller with each of Zoro's insults. "Wood is for children."

The blue-haired man swallows nervously. Sweat trickles down his neck. "Alright then." He clasps his hands together, rubbing them to ease the arousing tension. "What do you propose?"

"Breezeblocks."

The crowd audibly gasps and you're not any different. To break something that can render someone unconscious, if not dead, without having to use much strength? Even for someone like Zoro, the suggestion seems more than audacious. True, you wanted to see him prove his bold talk but not break his hands.

But before the blue-haired man can protest or diverge the discussion, a group of eager men bring a load of breezeblocks on stage. Their eyes shine with impatience and desire to see uncommon strength as they take away the wooden boards and set up the first breezeblock for each of them to break. The hollow bricks are placed atop regular, clay bricks that the blue-haired man has used to lay the planks on.

With a light gesture of his hand, Zoro allows the apparent master to begin. The man stretches his arms and cracks his joints. Despite being visibly experienced in this art, there is a noticeable nervousness in his movements, too. As though he's not as confident as he was five minutes ago.

Measuring one or two times beforehand, the local champion slams his fists on the breezeblock. A muffled thud resounds and the crowd falls silent. Then, a loud grunt fills the tense air but not a speck of cement is lifted. The breeze block did not break but considering the agony on the man's face and the deep red of his hand, something surely did break.

Zoro laughs for the third time. Strangely enough, he seems almost suspiciously laid-back. He reaches for the blue-haired man's unbroken breezeblock and places it atop his. If the crowd was silent before, it's deathly quiet now. They don't even dare breathe, awaiting the resolution of this unforeseen wager.

His eyes meet yours and never stray as he punches the stack of breezeblock. They break, fall and crumble on the stagefloor. Zoro doesn't look phased in any way, nor does his hand look to be injured. Judging by his casual attitude, he can easily break a lot more than just two breezeblocks. Maybe one day he'll find out but not at the moment - that's not the point of his little show of strength.

Some people try to accost him or talk to him as he makes his way back to you but Zoro's usual glares and silence quickly mitigate their enthusiasm and soon the mob of onlookers just cheers among themselves.

"Alright, I'm impressed," you admit with a nod. "In capital letters."

"So, anything I want, huh?" He can't help the smile curving his lips. It's a big word that you've used - a little too big for Zoro's imagination because it too happily strayed in directions that might break his heart permanently if you reject him.

"I suppose you do deserve compensation for holding yet another title of a champion. The dreadful weight of success," you say in a dramatic tone. "Now, what is this 'anything' you've decided on?"

Truthfully, he hasn't decided yet. If this "more than friends, less than lovers" situation he has with you was a game of chess, he's just made his opening move. You played back and put him in a place where there are simply too many options to reconsider. So what choice does he have to make to have you in a checkmate?

[literaila]

sick

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: satoru does not get the 'flu' that you have, or why you can't take megumi to the bookstore

warnings: symptoms of the flu, satoru is a bastard, cute kids

last part | next part

*

year two.

you:  can you take megumi to the bookstore? i can't make it 

"megumi wants me to ask you what you mean by 'i can't make it.'" 

your phone rings as soon as the message is sent, making you groan and roll over in bed. your palms are sweaty, and your body feels a bit like you got eaten alive. 

you probably shouldn't have answered, but honestly, how can you be expected to make smart decisions in this state?

you sigh into the phone. "it means that i can't make it, satoru." 

usually, his voice would make you smile but right now it just makes you want to die. and sleep for a couple... billion years, at least. 

"megumi wants me to ask what you mean by that?" satoru says again like you can't tell he's grinning. 

"just let me talk to him," you sigh, turning over on your side, which does nothing to ease the ache in your abdomen, by the way. you feel briefly nauseous like you might need the bowl you dragged under the covers, but it eases. you swallow bile. 

"what's wrong?" satoru asks, still teasing, and doesn't put megumi on the phone because he has never, not once in his life done anything without an argument. 

really, why do you put up with him?

"nothing." 

"well you just forgot that both of the kids are in school right now, like they are every day, so..." 

you close your eyes, pulling the covers up even higher. "oh. yeah." 

"did you get hurt, or something?" satoru asks, no concern evident in his voice, "going on another mission?" 

"no." 

satoru is silent, waiting. and you really truly do hate him. anyone else would just do you this favor. 

but not your best friend, no, he does nothing you ask. 

"i'm sick," you tell him, after a whole minute of silence. 

you can almost hear it as his brows furrow. "what?" 

"i have the flu or something," you cough into the receiver, hoping that it hurts his ear. 

"how?" 

"ugh," you groan, trying to rub the ache out of your jaw. "not all of us are immune to getting sick, you freak. will you take megumi to the bookstore for me? please?" 

"i don't think he wants to go with me." 

"satoru," you whine. 

"...and also i'm not allowed to enter the premises anymore." 

you sniff, wishing that you had more tissues, "what? since when?" 

"a couple weeks ago," he answers, nonchalantly. you can hear him moving around, probably wreaking havoc on the house you'll have to deep clean in a couple of days. 

not to mention your room. seriously, getting sick is the worst. 

"why?" 

"nuh uh," he says to you, very seriously. "that's between me and the children. they swore me to secrecy, and you're the one that's always going on and on about trust and how easily it's broken..." 

"you mean that you swore them to secrecy." 

"i bribed them," satoru agrees as if it's not an insane thing to say about your seven and eight-year-olds. 

"with what?!" 

"tsumiki took the offer of picking whatever takeout she wanted, and i think megumi was just glad i couldn't bring him anymore, the brat." 

you can hear his eyes roll, and the mention of the little boy's name reminds you of why you're having this discussion in the first place. 

"satoru... i really can't take him and i promised we'd go today," you groan into your pillow, voice feeling very sore. you shouldn't be talking to this insane man right now, you should be asleep. 

he pauses. "i can wear a disguise, i guess?" 

you groan again, hopefully, louder. "no, you're right about him not wanting to go with you." 

"rude." 

"i guess i'll just..." you attempt to sit up for the third time, feeling a bit dizzy as you do so. "i'll take some medicine and see if i feel better by the time they get out of school."

you're already mentally checking your medicine cabinet, not even sure if you have anything to help this ease by later in the afternoon. just some pain relief would be nice, but if you're contagious...

"what? no."

"well, you can't take him," you answer, still annoyed. 

"he doesn't need to go..." 

you hope that satoru can feel your scowl. "i promised." 

"he's a reasonable kid..." satoru says, clearly not remembering the brooding that happened the last time megumi had to re-read one of his books. "i think." 

you're silent. 

"look, i'll talk to him, okay?" he settles on, finally. "and i'll give him a couple hundred yen, it'll be fine. 

your mouth opens, and you cough, before, "no, satoru--" 

"get some rest," he exclaims, unpleasantly. 

"have him call me when you pick them up, satoru--" 

"don't die of the flu or anything." 

and then he's gone, and now you've got a headache, too. 

*

you think you might be dreaming when you open your front door.

the knocking had woken you up--you think--but with how long it took to walk from your room, into the hallway, and then the door, honestly, you might've fainted. or decided to take another nap against the wall. 

because once you open it, it feels like you've done this before.  

once again, three people are standing in front of you, two of them already arguing before you even take a step back to swing the door all the way open. 

the light hurts your head as you squint at the three of them. 

"it was my idea--" megumi is saying to satoru, grumpy, you know, from all day at school, and because he's talking to satoru.

"you're not taking all of the credit," satoru says back, "i bought everything." 

"'cause you're rich." 

"wow, so you're objectifying me?" 

"yes," megumi answers immediately, even though you doubt that he even knows what objectifying means (actually, you're pretty certain satoru doesn't even know). you cough, and it feels like something has died inside of you. 

the three of them turn towards you, tsumiki with a pleading look.

"it was my idea, okay?" megumi tells you before anyone else can say anything, and then he pulls tsumiki along with him as they move past you, through the door, into your apartment. 

yes, it's clear that satoru has raised them. 

"i said we should bring soup," tsumiki looks up at you, waiting for the praise she knows you'll give her. 

"our idea," megumi amends, easily. 

then they're out of your reach, going to sit on the very same couch they'd slept on a year ago, probably trying to escape satoru.

who you turn to, with a frown. his hair is so white it hurts to look at.

he points into your apartment, "those are devil spawn." 

you cough. "don't call them that." 

he raises a brow at you. probably at how soft your voice is, or the fact that you haven't hit him in the thirty seconds he's been standing there. 

it's a new record. 

"why are you here?" you rasp out, wiping some snot from your nose.

"no 'hello?'" 

"hello, satoru," your voice is retched, "why are you here?" 

"you look kinda rough, kid," 

you sniff, leaning against the doorjam. you could fall asleep here in an instant. "i'm sick, you jerk." 

"so this is sickness..." satoru says, intrigued, pretending to inspect you closely like you're some lab experiment. 

"i distinctly remember a cold that had you shaking on the floor of your dorm, begging shoko to heal you." 

satoru points a finger at you. "that was an uncurable illness." 

"and yet we're still stuck with you." 

satoru just smirks, pretending to be an angel he is not. 

you cough again and then sigh. it's cold with the door open. "are you just here to annoy me?"

"no," satoru shakes his head, giving you a ridiculous look, "well, i was telling megumi that you couldn't take him to the bookstore, cause of your disease or whatever," he ignores your weak protest, "and then i suggested that maybe we could see how you were feeling, bring you a little gift basket--" 

"no, he didn't!" megumi calls. 

satoru frowns. "devil. spawn." 

you snort, somehow amused at all of them, finally moving aside so he can walk through the door. 

satoru passes, suddenly brighter, but not before leaving an obnoxious kiss on your cheek--a resounding smack following. to which, you promptly wipe off. 

he frowns, and you push him so you can close the door. and then you trail into the kitchen, sitting down immediately before you fall. 

it's so embarrassing that just standing for too long has made you this lightheaded. 

satoru sets a bag on your kitchen counter and begins to unpack it. 

you try to see over his hands. "what did you bring me?" 

"you guys are so unappreciative," satoru tells you, pouting, "you only want me for my goods." 

"and the view," you answer, easily. "what'd you get?" 

megumi and tsumiki comes over to you, both of them giving you a short (megumi) and tight (tsumiki) hug. you've trained them well. 

"soup!" tsumiki tells you, grabbing the container from satoru's hands, despite his look. and then she walks over to your stove, looking in the cupboards for a pot to heat it in. 

because she's used to taking care of herself. they both are. 

"satoru," you nod to her, and he frowns, but reluctantly takes over, pushing tsumiki away from the stove. you're both familiar with this behavior from her. 

most days when you make dinner, tsumiki is trying to sneak into the kitchen, refusing to let you take care of it. 

she pouts a little now, but lets satoru handle the soup.

"gojo got you all of these," megumi tells you, bringing your eyes away from the other man, pushing a stack of pill bottles and medicine containers your way. "i don't think he knows what any of them are." 

"hey! that's a great selection," satoru pours the soup into a pot and sets it on the stove, returning to the counter with the three of you.

"this is a muscle relaxant," you tell him, frowning as you look at the packages--most of which are not for the flu. this is why he's not allowed to go to the store without you.

"well, your muscles need to relax, don't they?" satoru asks, dryly. "wish we could find some of those for your brain..." he mutters, afterward, and you throw the packet right at his face. 

"i found those little sour things you like," megumi continues, smirking just a moment at satoru. "they didn't have a big bag." 

"thanks, megs." 

"there's tissues, and chapstick if your lips get dry. and i picked out the cough drops because gojo wanted to get chocolate flavored or something--" 

"strawberry!" 

megumi rolls his eyes. 

tsumiki steps to your side again. "and we got flowers, but those are still in the car." 

"no, they're not," satoru suddenly has a bouquet of roses in his hands, almost covering his entire face. "they're right here." 

"when did you do that?" 

"when you guys were ridiculing my excellent taste," he pouts, white hair falling over his glasses. 

you laugh. 

"where's your vase?" he asks, going through every cupboard before finally listening to your answer. he settles on the other end of your kitchen, cutting and arranging the bouquet. 

tsumiki taps you. "are you feeling bad?" 

"just a little out of it, sweetie, don't worry." 

"did we get everything you need?" megumi chimes in, giving you a brief moment of eye contact before looking away. 

"yes. you guys did great, thank you both. you're very sweet." 

satoru ahems loudly. "and what about me?" 

"you could've done better." 

the kids both laugh and you push them into the living room, telling them to go sit down for a bit--knowing that satoru dragged them from school to the store to here without a break--and that you'll find a snack for them. 

and then you sigh, a bit nauseous from sitting up for so long. 

"do you need to lay down?" satoru peers at you, setting the bouquet on your table. "you look green." 

"thanks. how'd you learn to do that?" you gesture to the flowers which are arranged beautifully. honestly, you're surprised he didn't leave them on the counter for you to deal with. 

"i am a gentleman." 

"ha. no, seriously." 

"...i may, or may not have looked up what to bring someone who has the flu--and the flowers were extra, but!" he pauses as you laugh at him, resting your head against the cool counter. "i only had to do that because i don't get affected by stupid things like the flu or whatever you have." 

"of course," you whisper, closing your eyes. 

and then there's a hand on your forehead. "you're really warm." 

you press your head into his hand, which is also pleasantly cold. "yeah." 

"did you sleep all day?" 

you nod. 

"really? that's so lazy." 

you push him away, and he laughs, just loud enough for you to hear it. you open your eyes again when you hear him move away, watching him stir the soup on the stove. 

"you probably shouldn't have brought them here," you tell him, gesturing to the living room. "i don't want to get them sick." 

"they missed you," satoru shrugs. "you wouldn't want them to be sick alone." 

"yeah, but..." 

"i'm the worrier today," he interrupts, wrapping his hand around your wrist so he can pull you. "go lay down on the couch with them and i'll get your soup ready." 

"you'll burn it, you mean?" 

"as a punishment for all of the cruel things you say to me," and satoru smiles as he nudges the top of your head with his nose. 

his eyes are almost stern (almost, but not quite) as he watches you lay down on the couch, your hands gestured in defeat, and nods when you're settled in. 

when he walks away, you call, "bring us some water!" 

there's no response, but you know he'll do it. 

tsumiki just slightly nudges you with her hand and you smile, opening your arms for her to cuddle under. 

megumi doesn't do the same, but you don't fail to notice when he scooches just a little bit closer to you both, his thigh touching yours. 

your head still hurts and even the smell of the soup is making you a bit sick, but you'll deal with it as long as they're all here. 

*

you're arguing with satoru about dinner, several days later, when tsumiki and megumi sneeze at exactly the same time. 

it took a couple of days for you to recover, but now you're better than ever, happily fighting with satoru over the stupidest things and watching over both of the children for any defects that happened while you were out of sorts. 

they're mostly okay. 

but now the both of you look over to them, your eyes wide, satoru almost wincing. 

and then you look back to him, already scowling. 

"hey, it was just a sneeze," he tells you, quickly, already knowing what you're about to say. 

"i told you--" 

and then he sneezes, taking a step away from you. 

you groan, giving up on dinner. it looks like the next few days are going to be spent coddling all of your children. 

*

next part

[ew-selfish-art]

DP x DC AU: Letters and Paper goods are easy to store, and therefore, easy to hide. Danny has drama to monger though.

Tim Drake becomes a ward of Bruce Wayne at the same time the Drake Corporation is crumbling, and his father's health is declining. Dana, his father's physical therapist turned new wife, isn't optimistic these days, and Tim can read the writing on the wall.

Times have changed and Bruce and Dick are treating him with kid gloves. Jason Todd is alive again, been there suffered that. Young Just-Us has proven yet again to be his true family... But Bruce 'welcomes' him home the second the fake uncle is sniffed out.

So, Tim rationalizes, If Drake Corp is going down, then so shall the reason he spent his childhood abandoned. The many, many archeology digs his parents left him for over the years and their many, many stolen historical pieces. Tim is ready and able to get rid of them all.

He first returns the artifacts that have obvious origins to the people with whom they belong. Then it starts to get a little hazy as to where each item stolen is from. The paper goods are the hardest to place.

Years later, Tim has almost completely emptied his parent's old home of their stolen goods. By now, he runs a fortune 500 company and is working as Red Robin. Going through the last of the archives means going through the very last objects his parents ever preferred over his company, and he can't wait to be rid of them.

A glowing green envelope however... this one he feels compelled to keep. He hadn't known it back when he started this project- but somehow his Parents had found objects drenched in the essence of the Lazarus Pits. And it wasn't just one letter, it was dozens and dozens.

Tim Drake knew it would be risky to move them, but he needed to get these letters to an ex-league member to understand what the language of the dead was trying to proclaim.

_____

Danny hates a fetch quest but apparently Ghost Writer is having a bad day. It starts with Danny running by the guys library to have a chat when all of a sudden, the question of certain... ghost relations... came up. Danny is always more than thrilled to hear about how the various ancient-as-in-old ghosts interacted with the Ancients-as-in-yikes ghosts.

Ghost Writer finally admitted to the monarch in training that if he wanted to know so badly, that he could track down Clockworks old letters. They'd been scattered well before Ghost Writer could properly work on the ghost archives (read: was still alive), and it wasn't until he'd long worked on the library that such affairs were noted as missing.

The potential for gossip was just too good! A call home to Sam, Tuck and Jazz to let them know he was on an adventure, and then Danny flew off with little more than some hints by GW and an annoyed nod of cryptic agreement by CW.

Danny goes about wondering Gotham as himself, not yet seeing the need to be Phantom, when he runs into the very guy he was looking for.

"Hey- you don't happen to have a shit ton of letters written in the language of the dead do you?" Danny smiles as innocently as possible as he watches all seven stages of grief play out on the guy's face. Then something changes and Danny can tell that this guy is like, scary competent.

"I do, however, I was double crossed and a shit ton of assassins are on their way to try and take them."

"Uh... Bummer for them I guess? I'll just take them and go- I don't even really need to keep them if you want em back-"

"Assassins. They won't exactly leave empty handed."

"Huh. Well... Wanna come with? These are supposed to have some pretty juicy drama in them." Danny awkwardly places a hand on the back of his neck.

A knife being thrown in their direction was enough to get this guy to make a decision.

"Let's go spill some tea then."

Danny grins as he pulls the guy through a rapidly drawn portal, ignoring the wide eyes he makes. Turns out his name is Tim, and walking him through afterlife drama is the best- how does he know so many dead assassins??? One of these letters is about a guy who took Tim's spleen??

[lbcreations-blog]

Holy Mother Of Many

Summary: You are the wife of God himself. You both made many amazing angelic children such as Lucifer and Sera, one day in many of the galaxys and cosmos problems occurred, so you set out to fix the problems while intrusting your husband with your children. But what you didn't know was when leaving many bad things would happen, making hardly any good come out of it.

Female mother reader

All plotonic

proofread

Words: 1121

Masterlist

You had a relationship with the holy father God himself. You were his devine wife, the holy mother of all creations. You were together since the start of everything.

You had many devine children, one of your favorites being little Lucifer. Just seeing him when he was a baby, you knew he would have a similar personality to you. Sadly, you never got to find out due to you having to leave to do other things like glaxeys and cosmos to look after. Before you left, you instructed your husband to look after both of your creations. You then left the home you loved.

Oh, how would you regret that decision.

??? Years later

You were now working on a glaxey in your main form (which is like atleast 300ft tall) when you realized you should really take a vacay and see your husband again and all your angelic children, I mean it has been many many many many many many many years.

A few mins later, you arrived in front of heavens gates in your smol form (7 ft tall). About to walk in, you saw a blonde male at a podium. "Oh greetings, mister!" You said to the man. "Welcome to heaven ma'am! May I please get your name." The man said to you.

"Name? Why do you need my name?" You asked. "Well-" "St Peter, let me deal with this," Sera interrupted Peter and told him so while flying down from somewhere. "Yes, Sera," St Peter said, then flying away. "Wait, Sera?" You said, "Hello mother, " Sera said softly, smiling. You quickly hugged her. "Oh, Sera, my darling daughter!" You said.

You moved slightly backward so you can have eye contact with her. "Oh, sweety, you're all grown up! Im so sorry that i haven't been here!" You told Sera. "It's alright, mother," she told you. "Anyway, what's up with the whole name thing? And where's Luci? And all my other beautiful children?" You asked her.

"Let's go and talk about this somewhere else," Sera said as she telaported you both into what you assumed was her office. "Take a seat, mother," Sera told you. You listened to your daughter and sat down on the comfortable seat.

"You see Mother when you left. Father decided to sleep once i and some of the others were old enough, and he is still sleeping. When he first fell asleep, some of the oldest ones and I made a project called Earth, and we made these creatures called humans. And well... Lucifer destroyed it with childish actions. He brought evil into earth, and in turn, he created his own doman fill of that evil. He lives there, ruling the doman of evil." Sera told you.

"WHAT⁉️"

TIME SKIP

"You know what, I'm going down there to check on him," you told Sera. "But mother," Sera began "no don't even think about it, Sera," you said, getting up. "Yes, mother," Sera said, making a portal in front of the hotel for you. "I'll talk to you more once i return," you said, entering the portal. "Yes, mother," she said not trying to upset you anymore.

"I wonder why Sera telaported me in front of a hotel." You sighed. "Oh well, he's probably in there. I can sense my boy," you said, walking up to the door.

You knocked on the door, and a few minutes later, a pink and white spider looking guy opened it and looked at you in shock. "Hey uh Vaggie there is an angel at the door!" The guy said toward what you saw to be an ex angel, going by her aura, wings, and lack of halo, at least.

"Oh shoot, I'll go get Charlie you let her get comfy," Vaggie said to the pink and white spider guy. "But isn't she busy with something important with Alastor?" The guy asked. "Oh, right! I guess I'll get Lucifer and be nice to her Angel!" Vaggie said, running up the hotel stairs. You smiled at the mention of Lucifer, You were so excited to see your son.

You now sat on the couch, which the man named Angel kindly led you to sit on and wait. While waiting, who you now learned was named Angel dust tried making small talk with you. But it did not really end up well he seemed to be nervous for some reason, but you decided not to overlook it in some way.

After a few minutes of waiting, a portal finally opened. Lucifer walked into the hotel lobby and made eye contact with you. You immediately telaported to him and tightly hugged him. "Oh Luci, my son. I'm so happy to see you again!" You told him.

"Mom? What are you doing here?" Lucifer asked you. "To see you ofcourse" You told him, holding his rosy cheeks and looking down at him. "I would have came much much earlier if I knew what happened to you all those years ago, but I intrusted your now excuse of a father to you and your siblings."

"Are you alright, though? I'm aware the... Fall. Was, alot," "Of course im alright Mom, i have a daughter now. " Your smile increased at that information. "I have a granddaughter?!" You asked Lucifer, squishing his rosy cheeks even more. "Indeed you do, mom," Lucifer told you. "Oh my word, im a grandmother! That's crazy so where is she?" You asked him.

"Well... she just walked through the doors right now. " You looked behind you seeing the splitting image of your son in a female form. You smiled cheek to cheek upon seeing this just seeing her. You knew the both had at least a similar personality.

"Dad, why is there an angel here?" His daughter asked. "Charlie, this is your grandmother." "It's nice to meet you, my granddaughter." "It's nice to meet you too. My name is Charlie, but you already know that, i have one question, though: how come i did not see you in heaven?" Charlie asked.

"Well, i was busy with a lot of work at that moment," you told her. "Oh! uhm! Can I tell you about this project im working on!?" Charlie asked you. "Sure ofcourse go ahead. I'd love to hear of such" Charlie bounced up upon hearing that and started walking you through the hotel with your son that Vaggie girl and what you sensed to be a smiling fellow behind he did not speak yet though.

You needed to wake up your husband and scoled him for his passed actions and Sera as well, but for now, you would enjoy the company of the Hazbin Hotel.

Taglist: @fatherlesschild2 @whitewingsh @iheartpieck @i-yuki @ilovemyths2003

Taglist ask area

-L.B Creations

[lustfulslxt]

It’s You - Matt Sturniolo

summary : matt’s secretly in love w y/n, she bails on him and later realizes it was a terrible decision because it's him

warnings : very slight angst, fluff, smut

a/n : based on these texts (1, 2)

-

It didn’t take long for you to get ready and head over to Matt’s. If you were being honest, your nerves were wrecked. You felt so guilty for ditching him over a boy. Matt didn’t deserve that. He’s only ever been the best to you, and you were nothing less than selfish.

Sitting in your car outside of his house, you take a deep breath. He’s your best friend, you guys will figure it out. You shut the car off and make your way to his front door, deciding to knock rather than walk in as per usual. You’re not waiting very long when the door is unlocked and opened.

Seeing Matt feels like a breath of fresh air. However, at the same time, your guilt increases.

“Matt, I’m so sorry. I swear I wish I could take it back.” You immediately rush out your words.

“Why’d you knock?” He questions with a quizzical expression.

You falter a bit, “I-uh, I didn’t want to overstep in case you’re mad at me.”

"Come on." He says, nodding his head back for you to come inside.

He steps aside, holding the door open for you. You quickly walk inside, your hand finding his almost instantly. You can't help it, the fear of losing him urging you to bring him in closer. He looks down at your connected hands, his heart racing at the simple touch. He squeezes your hand tighter, pulling you up the stairs with him.

Your stomach flutters at the gesture, your mind racing with so many thoughts, yet nothing at the same time. You follow him back into his room, shutting the door behind you. He kicks his shoes off and lies back on his bed, beckoning you over. You copy his action before sitting beside him.

"So." Matt mutters, shooting a quick glance at you.

"About before." You start, a frown immediately pulling to your lips at the thought. "I don't know what I was thinking. I guess I was just so caught up in the fact that he was into me, I tried to do whatever he wanted to make it work. So, when he wanted to get together that weekend, I did. I never should've cancelled on you; I regret it so much. I'm really sorry, Matt."

He looks down at the floor, biting his inner cheek. "You really upset me."

Your frown deepens from his words, "I know, and you have every right to feel that way. I wish I could go back and undo it. You didn't deserve that. There's not much I can say, because I don't want to just give you excuses. It was wrong of me. I know you worked hard to get those tickets, and I truly am sorry."

"So, you're not seeing him anymore?"

You shake your head with wide eyes, "No, definitely not."

He gives you a small smile, "Good."

You squint your eyes at his response, before he's spreading his arms for you. You grin, crawling over and lying in his arms, squeezing for dear life.

"Any tighter and I'll explode." He chuckles in a low whisper.

You softly loosen your grip with a sheepish smile, "Sorry, I just don't want to lose you."

He sighs, "You're not gonna lose me, kid. Not now, not ever."

“I’m sorry, Matt.” You whisper, glancing up at him. “Honest.”

He brushes the hair from your face, staring down at you with a gentle look on his face. “I know.”

The two of you are met with a silence, but a comfortable one. Being with Matt always washes your worries away. He makes everything better without even having to put much effort, yet he always does. He gives you his all every single second of every day. You don’t know what you’d do without him.

“Do you wanna talk about what happened with your date?” He questions, running a hand through your hair as your head lies on his chest.

“I guess I just realized he’s not the man I want.” You admit after a moment of pondering.

“What does that mean?”

You turn your head, meeting his gaze. He has a curious expression and you can’t help but stare, lovingly. You’ve always found him so beautiful.

“I don’t know.” You lie, laying your head back down.

His hand moves around your face, grasping your chin to turn you back towards him. “Tell me.”

You’re so close that you can feel his breath fan against your face as he speaks. His bright blue eyes bore into yours with such intensity you find it hard to catch your breath. It’s like he’s put a spell on you. You’re suddenly in this trance and you feel the need to spill everything.

Your hand meets his cheek, softly caressing it as you contemplate admitting your truths. You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for possible rejection. “It’s you.”

His heart starts beating faster from those two little words, but he needs confirmation. “Me?”

“You, Matt. You’re the man I want.” You finally say out loud, almost feeling a literal weight taken off of your shoulders for finally letting it out.

Matt feels like he's dreaming. He never would've guessed you'd ever say that, but he can't help the cheesy smile that plasters itself on his face. Your worried eyes glimmer at his reaction, hoping it's something good.

"Why do you think I tried so hard to get you those tickets?" He whispers, his lips almost grazing yours with every word.

"Say it." You whisper back.

"You know, Y/N." He breathes.

"I need you to say it."

"It's you." He repeats your previous words, making your stomach flutter with butterflies. "It's always been you."

Your lips turn upwards, flashing your pearly whites as you smile at him. Without another thought, Matt's hand tightens around your jaw, pulling you into him. His lips meet yours in a hard kiss, like any second you'll disappear. Your lips tingle from the feeling of his on yours, metaphorical sparks flying.

Your hand meets the side of his face, your fingertips brushing through his hair as your palm caresses his cheek. The kiss deepens as he slips his tongue into your mouth, exploring it like it's all he's ever known.

His hands trail down your body, squeezing every curve, making you softly moan into the kiss. He breaks away, his eyes wide and suddenly a lot darker than before. He swiftly flips the two of you over, hovering over you with one leg in between yours and holding himself up on his hands. He drops to one of his elbows, using the opposite hand to trace your bottom lip. His hand travels lower, closing around your neck in a soft grip as his lips meet yours again.

His tongue glides over yours so deliciously, humming into your mouth at the taste of you. You can feel his erection growing against your thigh, igniting a fire in your stomach. The desire that was put off for so long burns brighter, heat forming between your legs.

His lips part from yours, instantly trailing down your jaw and to your neck. He licks and sucks, nibbling the sensitive skin, eliciting soft whines from you that go straight to his dick. His hands slide under your shirt, gripping your warm skin, slowly moving upwards towards your breasts.

He pulls away with red, swollen lips, "Do you want this?"

"So bad." You beg, frantically nodding your head.

A smirk pulls to his lips as he continues working on your neck, letting his hands roam your body. They slide over your plush skin, gripping your boobs through your bra. You arch your back into his touch, heavy pants falling from your mouth. He pulls away and tugs at your shirt. You slightly lift yourself, allowing him to remove it, before he's pushing you back into the bed.

His bruised lips meet your skin in open mouthed kisses, leaving specks of saliva in his wake. Your skin burns beneath his touch, and you can't help but whine at the sensation, desperate for more. His teeth bite down on the skin of your collarbones, leaving marks behind. He continues doing this all over your torso, licking over said marks.

"Matt, please." You whine, bucking your hips up into his.

"Shh, I got you, baby." He hums into your skin as he pulls your bra straps down.

He nips at your shoulders, littering your skin with little bites and kisses. It's safe to say, you're drenched from his touch alone. You feel hot and bothered, needy for more stimulation at your core. His fingers grasp the little clip at the front of your bra, sliding it apart, freeing your breasts.

"Mmm." He groans, engulfing the soft mounds in his hands. "Always knew you had perfect tits."

His lips wrap around one nipple, tweaking the other with his finger. His tongue swirls over the sensitive bud, letting his teeth graze it, sensually. Your mind is hazy, and you're stuck in a daze as he repeats that action on your opposite nipple.

He grabs your waist, guiding you up to fully remove your bra, discarding it with your shirt. Before you lay back down, your hands are pulling at his shirt. He quickly lifts it over his head, tossing it aside, bringing you back into him, eager to feel your bare skin on his.

You bring his mouth to yours, feverishly kissing him as his hands continue feeling out your body. They travel lower and lower, grazing over the waistband of your pants. He glides over the fabric, moving to your thighs, squeezing the plush skin. You clench around nothing, craving to be filled.

He pulls away, eyes boring into your face as he gauges your reaction. His hand slowly trails up your leg, pressing into your covered heat. You close your eyes, taking your bottom lip in your teeth, holding back the sound that threatened to slip. A cocky smirk plasters on his lips as he works your bottoms down, leaving you bare as he pulls them off your feet.

He spreads your legs, admiring your glistening pussy on display just for him. The thought of you being just for him makes his cock throb with need. His fingers prod at your folds, your juices instantly drenching him with how aroused you are. Soft moans emit from your mouth as he slides his hand up and down your center.

"Need you inside me, please." You breathe, your hand latching onto his wrist.

"Are you sure?" He asks, eyeing you up and down.

"Please." You beg once more.

He nods, his hands immediately working his belt off. He unbuttons his jeans, pulling them down, along with his boxers. His hard cock bounces back up, throbbing for attention. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, your pussy clenching once again.

Matt scoots forward just a bit, getting between your legs with ease. He places his hand by your head as he hovers over you, holding his member in his opposite hand. He drags it through your folds, coating it in your arousal. He aligns himself with your sopping entrance, easily slipping in due to how wet you are.

"Oh fuck." You whine from the sensation, your eyes squeezing shut.

His breathing gets heavier as he slowly sinks deeper into you, filling you up so perfectly. Your hands grip his biceps as he bottoms out, feeling as if he sucked the air out of your lungs. Your pussy hugs around him so tightly, he's struggling to keep it together.

As soon as you adjust, he's slowly pumping in and out of you, pulling numerous moans from your lips. His strokes are deep and hard, yet slow and sensual.

"Been wanting to make this pussy mine for so long, fuck." He moans in a raspy voice as he continues thrusting into you.

He turns his head, kissing your wrist as your nails dig into his shoulder. He takes your opposite hand and intertwines it with his, squeezing hard. Euphoria overtakes your body with every thrust, eyes rolling into the back of your head from the feeling.

Your mouth falls open, lewd moans slipping from it as the pleasure builds. The knot in your stomach forms quickly with the way he's fucking into you so deliciously, leaving you clenching around him.

"Feels s-so good." You cry out, your face scrunching up in pleasure.

Your skin feels hot beneath his, it's almost hard to catch your breath. You feel a way you've never felt before.

"Tell me I make you feel better than anyone else, baby." He groans, snapping his hips into yours. "Say it."

You whine out from his words and his hard strokes, unable to form coherent sentences. "Feel better, oh my god. You, it's you. Fuck, I'm so close."

He moans at your words and continuous clenching around his cock, his hips sputtering from the feeling. He's been yearning for this exact moment for as long as he can remember, and it's better than he could've ever imagined.

"You're mine. All mine." He grunts with every thrust, driving you over the edge.

"Yes, yes, yes." You cry, as you come undone. "All yours, baby."

His mouth falls slack as he feels your juices pour out of you, producing a squelching sound with every pump. Your grip on his hand tightens as he continues fucking into you. He stares at your face, the way you furrow your eyebrows and bite your lip in overwhelming pleasure bringing him to the edge.

He lets out a guttural moan, shuddering as he empties his load into you, filling you up with his seed. He continues pumping, pulling out when it becomes too much for you both.

His hair slicks to his forehead as he leans back on his knees, watching his cum ooze out of you. The sight alone makes his dick twitch. Both of you are panting heavily, trying to compose yourselves from the exertion. You both lock eyes with goofy grins, instantly giggling with one another as if he wasn't just buried inside of you.

"I'm yours, huh?" You mumble with a dopey smile.

"And don't you fucking forget it."

—

a/n : shucksss, lazy ending i'm tired. not proofread, what's new? sorry for the wait, i lack motivation sooo much. anyways, hope it didn't disappoint. if it did, ig go cry ab it idk. smut one the poll bc we're all sluts, so that's what you got!

taglist : @luv4kozume @worldlxvlys @flowerxbunnie @sturniolowhore @creamoncreamoncream2 @lvrsparadise @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @tillies33ssss @mattsfavwh3re @its-jennarose @sophssturn @defnotayonna @ksskianshd @d0wnbad4chris @braindead4l @avasturn @knowingnothingnoel @luverboychris @remussbitch @stunza @rootbeerworshiper @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @strnlsblog @ilovethesturniolotriplets @sturnolio-luvs @chrissgirlsstuff

[wileys-russo]

Kcc "ky,no,thats just for childs" shopping center

changed the wording up just a smidge for kidsII k.cooney cross

"babe are you done now?" you rolled your eyes at the whine from outside, fixing the top of the dress you were trying on and looking at yourself in the mirror.

"no! just sit patiently ky." you chuckled at the groan which followed, kyra slumping back down into the chair and tapping her feet, already bored of everything on her phone as her eyes roamed the store.

you'd warned her when you'd made the plans to go shopping that she shouldn't come, knowing how easily she got bored and detested shopping for the most part.

but kyra still insisted on accompanying you, though as she sat waiting in what felt like the 100th store she was starting to regret her decision. you had a family wedding coming up and needed to find something to wear, and kyra should have known you'd test out every possible option before deciding on anything.

"what do you think?" her attention snapped up as you stepped out of the change rooms, twirling as a smile settled on her lips. "i think you look gorgeous babe, just like you did in the last five." kyra complimented as you shot her a playful glare.

"i've got two more to try on and then we're done." you promised sending her a smile as she sighed in relief, tapping her lips as you rolled your eyes but pecked them anyway.

"good! i can't wait to go home." kyra sighed happily as you gave her a funny look. "done in this store baby, not done done." you corrected before pulling the change room curtains shut as your girlfriend let out a long and tired groan.

it was two hours later that kyra's thin veil of patience disappeared all together.

"kyra. two more stores! come on." you held your hand out and wiggled your fingers as she shook her head, rooted to the spot with her arms crossed and a scowl.

"you've already bought two options, pick one and lets go." kyra huffed, holding the car keys captive in her pocket as you shook your head. "i warned you i'd be awhile and you still insisted on coming, you're being a child!" you warned as the girl shrugged.

"alright, fine." she turned on heel as you exhaled and started to follow after her, not really having much of a choice since she also insisted on carrying your bag which had your phone and wallet in it.

"what are you doing?" you asked deadpan as she stopped and sat down on a childrens carousel, far too large for the small firetruck she somehow squeezed herself into.

"ky no, those are for kids." you warned as she shrugged unbothered, wiggling her way in until she was comfortable. "well if i'm acting like a child then its fine. you go shopping, i'll be here going around and around until you're done!" your girlfriend tapped her card to start the carousel as you stared in disbelief.

"you are unbelievable." you sighed, grabbing your bag off of her as she span past and held it out before walking off and leaving her behind.

but as she did with nearly everything, kyra eventually grew bored of the carousel, having rode it around and around for about half an hour still with no sign of you returning. but as the ride eventually came to a stop, kyra was met with yet another problem.

a grunt came from her mouth as she tried to pull herself out of the small firetruck but found she could only get one leg out, the other wedged inside as the australian let out a groan.

"kyra? ky!" the midfielder winced hearing some new voices call out her name, glancing over her shoulder to see charli and a couple of her spurs teammates making their way over.

quickly jumping back in to save face kyra plastered a smile on her face and waved as the girls arrived. "why are you sitting on a kids ride?" charli snickered as kyra shrugged.

"girlfriends shopping, we've been here since ten." kyra groaned as charli grinned, her friends excusing themselves to wander into a nearby jewelry store.

"let me guess, she told you not to come but you did anyway?" charli smiled knowingly as kyra rolled her eyes but her lack of answer was enough of an answer anyway.

"and, you're stuck. aren't you?" charli's smile widened as kyra stuttered trying to come up with an excuse but failing to do so hung her head. "yes." the brunette mumbled as charli's laugh echoed around and kyra reached out to smack her.

"shut up!" kyra warned with a huff, her best friends laughs dying down to chuckles as she stepped in to try and help, arms hooking under her elbows and trying to pull her out to no avail.

"charli?" the blonde glanced over her shoulder seeing you stood with a bag in hand and a confused look in her eyes. "kyras stuck!" the australian grinned gleefully as kyra groaned and punched her in the arm.

"didn't i tell you these were for kids?" you sighed, shaking your head in disappointment as you came closer, your girlfriend avoiding your gaze all together, apparently the only one who felt sorry for herself.

"right, you grab her knee, i'll grab her arms." you dropped your bag on the floor with the rest of them kyra had stayed with and sighed, you and charli moving positions and counting down.

nodding you both started to pull and tug at the midfielder, ignoring her constant overdramatic whines of pain, both of you telling her to shut up and reminding the only person who was really to blame was kyra herself.

eventually a few people had gathered, clearly catching onto what was happening as a couple of security guards were next to follow, charli's friends returning and watching on in amusement as you and charli stepped aside and the guards took over.

with their much larger forms and kyra falling silent at the manhandling, face burning red with embarrassment as you took a few photos, kyra's ears heating up as eventually she was freed and the small crowd clapped.

nodding her head at the stern warnings from centre management not to do anything like that again the crowd was dispersed and everyone went about their day, charli and her friends also heading off after teasing kyra who huffed and hung her head in shame.

"come on babe, lets go home." you grinned, tugging on your girlfriends hoodie as she wandered beside you with her arms crossed, having pulled her hood over her head as a means to try and disguise herself.

"careful, don't get stuck." you quipped teasingly as kyra slid into the car and shot you a glare, clicking her seatbelt in with a huff as you loaded your bags in the back and did the same.

"stop pouting! its your own fault you idiot." you laughed, leaning across the console to press a few kisses to the brunettes jutted out lips before shifting the car into drive.

"babe you sent the videos to the entire team!?"

[palskippah]

Hi! Over the last few months I've made these drawings of my Goldenheart fankid :D

He's Cyrus Goldenheart and he's my newest coolest baby and I love him very much.

Some stuff about them under the cut! And also other things and more drawings sjsj

-First off, know that Cyrus is his English name, because in Spanish he's Ciro Goldenheart- because Ambrosius is Ambrosio in the hispanic dub and that's very cool (also, I'm glad they didn't change Ballister's name to Trabuco and just left it as Ballister askdjsa)

-Also, I love the headcanon that in this universe family names come from the mash-up of last names to whatever sounds coolest. So Ballister and Ambrosius picked the last name Goldenheart (they could've been Boldloin but both were like hell no- And in Nimona's humble opinion, they were cowards)

>ALSO did you know that in the Latin Hispanic dub Ambrosius calls Ballister 'Balli' instead of 'Bal'? It makes it seem much more like a pet name and I love it.

>Also, headcanon that Ballister calls Ambrosius 'Ambrosito' when he's being particularly corny. (It works as a diminutive of his name with the -ito but also, osito means 'little bear' in Spanish, so it's a very cool pet name)

>Also, Ambrosoli, because that's a Chilean candy company, and I think it's funny.

>Now, since they're famous as knights and whatnot, imagine that Goldenheart was the name in which their fans referred to them as a couple- (I know that Balli had been considered a villain and an awful person and stuff after being framed, but I bet his fans came back after the movie ending and whatnot :''v) and then they got married and became the Goldenhearts for real, and people were like YEAH WAHOO bc they love them.

-Years after the movie, and after Nimona coming back and all the fixing their relationship thing, they got married and all, and had planned to adopt a kid some years later (because Ballister didn't want to have any babies himself), but then they found out they were expecting and were like 🧍🧍 (maybe my guy got too nervous and made the wettest wet cat eyes ever and that made Ambrosius be like Balli, it's okay, don't worry D: let's talk about this)

>Anyways there was the thing of do we have them or not, and then they had a conversation, like:

(Ballister, still with his puppy-under-the-rain eyes) "...do you want them?" (Ambrosius makes some noncommittally noises) "Do you?" "But do you?" "But do you? You should decide" "Yeah- I just want to know your opinion." "Yeah, but it's your body." "Yeah, but I wouldn't raise them alone, both of us would. Do you want a baby right now?" "But I don't want my opinion to affect your opinion, because you would have the baby and I know how you feel about that and I don't want my decision to affect your decision because it should be your decision... So, what's your dec-?" "For Gloreth's- Stop saying decision! (Ambrosius' stupid attempt at lifting the tension was successful, because Ballister's laughing) Do you want them, yes or no?" "Yes I do, but only if you want them too, and if you don't that's alr-" "I think I do!"

>Then, later that day, there's Ambrosius' like, so... are we going to have a baby? (doubtfully) and Ballister's like I don't know :( (apologetically, because he genuinely doesn't know pipipi)

>So anyways, after some more days of thinking (because he had the final say in it, of course), Ballister's like yeah let's have them and they're both like WOO WE'LL HAVE A BABY :D, and Nimona's like HA! You'll get huge! And congrats too, I guess, when she's told.

>And then like eight months go past and Nimona's like HA! I knew it! and Ballister's like shut the fuck up >:( I'm not in the mood right now and Nimona's like (waving her hands) fine, chill, boss. i'll make the joke later then. And Ballister stares blankly and goes ...thanks (y'know those silent stares he does like three times in the movie?) (I want to write down all the expecting headcanons I got but whwhwh)

-Ambrosius' like we have to name them something with C, so we're A, B and C :D and Ballister's like yeah :D! so they look for names with C, that's their only requirement.

-Ballister and Ambrosius had a long as hell list with names with C and whenever Balli was like hey we should decide on one soon, no? D: Ambrosius was like yeah let's pick one :D, but it never led to anything because they couldn't decide.

>As a placeholder they called the baby Baby and then forgot about choosing a name, and then they were the same day in the clinic/hospital going through the list while holding their very much already born baby and being like this one? no- or this one? what about-? and the problem with having so many options was that they couldn't decide on one.

>They weren't truly that much of in a hurry, because they could name him later, but still they felt guilty because they had had several months to have that ready (literally everything had been ready for their baby's arrival, except his name)

>Finally Nimona, after taking a small peek at their list, was like, y'know what? he looks like a Cyrus, he reminds me of the sun, (bc he was wearing soft yellows and stuff, maybe, and the bed's sheets in which Ballister was lying were a light blue) and both Ballister and Ambrosius looked at their baby and considered the name. So, he's named Cyrus.

-The news refers to him as Baby Goldenheart though. Very cute baby, the public agrees on.

>Then there's the debate of which dad he looks like the most, and baby pictures are pulled from years back and they're like LOOK (posts a pic of baby Ambrosius with his Gloreth's descendant mom) THEY LOOK ALMOST IDENTICAL (and they actually do, same eyes and nose, same curlier hair and round cheeks)

>Then when he grows up, he actually looks too much like Ambrosius, but also a tad bit like Balli (it's the black hair and eyebrows).

-Even after he's all grown up, his family still calls him Baby instead of his name. And he knows that if either of his dads call him Cyrus is because he probably fucked up.

-I have a headcanon for Ballister's father, he looked almost just like Ballister but had a more hooked nose and curlier hair, but same big eyes, also had a beard and stuff. The thing is that Baby has black, curlier hair too and people think it's just like a combination between Balli's dark hair and Ambrosius' curlier hair BUT NO it's his grandpa's ���� pipipi

(Translation) Blackheart (in my head he's Blackheart idk why ashjds maybe Boldheart had been his unmarried name, and Balli changed his to that alongside his name): My love, you're the prettiest girl with that cloak! <3 Kid Ballister: Abba, but I don't want to be the prettiest girl :c Blackheart, grabbing Balli's nose: The handsomest then! Kid Ballister: Hehe! (thinking about Bluey's laughter for this one pipipi)

>Also, know that Ballister's name was an inside joke between the two, were his abba had said he was his 'ballister' (the pillar that kept him upright) (they usually talked in Urdu, not in English, Balli had a better vocabulary than him from watching TV and going to an English-talking school), and Balli had burst out laughing, saying 'abba, it's baluster!' and his dad was like 'nope! I'm pretty sure it's ballister!' just to see his little girl still laughing.

>Anyways, then he got arrested and stuff and Balli changed his name to that, and then there's this moment a year later where, in jail, he sees his girl (now a boy) for the last time in the news, where they show him as he will start his training as knight and Blackheart's super happy because his son is actually alright (he had been worried sick about him all this time) and y'know, point is that he dies shortly after that and Ballister finds out years later when he tried looking for him D:

>(If you tell me but Kym, ballister is already the correct word, I'll tell you huh because I actually have no idea, you know I speak Spanish :'''v I tried translating Balli's name and it got corrected to baluster each time ajsdka)

>By the way, Ballister's scar over his eye is from when he had been like three and had fell against a sharp end, causing a slash and a lot of bleeding that had almost made Blackheart die from a heart attack. He had hurried to take him to the nearest health center, all while Ballister had been crying with his face all drenched in blood, and his dad had been genuinely thinking that his little girl was about to die from his carelessness (he hadn't been looking when Ballister fell).

>The slash over the eye is the reason he knows for sure that that's his child on TV, standing beside the Queen.

>Anyways, I love angsty headcanons with parents.

>Got another headcanon that Ambrosius got two moms, both don't spend much time with him from being too busy, but they love their son dearly (and y'know that Ambrosius' voice actor said that the Director was his parental figure? Maybe since his moms weren't around much, he started to look up to her as a mother and- wa, IT'S JUST I read a headcanon/theory (?) about the Director grooming Ambrosius for her benefit and it made a lot of sense 100/10).

>Ambrosius' moms are cool, although they did sort of force him to start his training to become a knight when he was of age to go into the Institute (he either went to knighthood or the family business, his knight mom (who's currently retired from knighthood and working at their family company) showed him her cool sword to lure him in, and his businesswoman mom showed him some colorful statistics- of course the sword won), but he ended up loving knighthood (despite everything), so he doesn't hold a grudge against that.

>(wait i remembered that Korean tradition of sitting babies of a certain age in front of objects so they choose one and that dictates how they'll be in the future? pipipi)

>Random headcanon, but Ambrosius is actually a blond and dyes some parts a darker color to achieve the cooler hairstyle. Also, the 'every descendant of Gloreth was/is/gotta be blonde' is interesting and gives place for analysis and stuff, but I've got this one where every descendant of Gloreth has somewhat of bunny teeth or a silly smile, and that's better in this case because I don't have to make Baby a blond- but his smile, when he's older, reminds Nimona of Gloreth's.

-Baby is a sweetheart with absolutely everyone. He smiles and coos nicely whenever people try to entertain him.

>Except with Todd. Whenever he sees him he spits up his milk and Ballister's pretty sure that it's a very weird coincidence, but Ambrosius and Nimona hold up a debate, convinced that the hate for punchable faces must be genetic and untaught, given that Todd had always been nice with Baby. Ballister throws Nimona a look and she says, my trauma, my jokes, Boss. And Ballister has to reluctantly agree and accept that he can't argue with that.

>Headcanon too that Ballister had called his father abba (looked it up and that's a fond way to call fathers in Urdu, if I'm wrong sorry :'v), until he was arrested and eventually died, so he taught Baby to call him abba too, and Ambrosius taught Baby to call him daddy, and even in adulthood he calls them that. And then there's Nimona who tried to teach him to call them Boss and Goldie, but she never succeeded.

(Imagine Nimona and Baby sat in front of eachother on the floor of the living room or something) Nimona, who had turned to look like Ballister, pointing at themself: Who am I? Baby: Abbababa- (he's a lil confused but he got the spirit, he's getting there in understanding askjdsad Ambrosius is currently Dadada) Nimona: No, Baby, Boss! Boss, say boss! :D Baby: Abbababa (happily reaching for him) Nimona: No, Boss! I'm your boss! (a cutesy tone) I'm Boss, Baby! Yeah, who's a cute baby? :D It's you! (then she got distracted and started playing with him)

-Nimona is Baby's sibling/cool aunt/mentor/bad influence/babysitter/something something. She's not a Goldenheart (and she doesn't want to be, she's just Nimona) but she's happy to be a part of their family anyway.

>They're the Goldenhearts + Nimona :''v

>Also yeah, Nimona is Ballister's sidekick/child/lil' sibling/friend/little menace/something something. The point here is that they love and care for each other very much <3

>Also, Nimona is Ambrosius' first ever, #1 hater, and he doesn't blame her for that. (They got a cool relationship though, like they like to bicker and wrestle with each other, and Nimona always wins because Ambrosius isn't very trained in fighting snakes, crocodiles or gorillas or any weird animal for that matter) Both love Ballister and that's sort of their main point in common, among other things.

-For a very long time, Baby had thought that in the world existed several pink creatures named Nimona, just as several adults named Daddy existed, and many kids like himself were named Baby. His Abba's the only one named that though, it seems. Then, when he's like three, he starts to realize that Nimona is just one person, and that apparently his Daddy and Abba's names weren't that. Abba's name wasn't even Boss, like he had suspected, and Daddy's wasn't Goldie. And then, as if that wasn't enough for the day, they tell him your name is Cyrus. Imagine his surprise.

-Baby is a daddy's boy for real and he loves both of his dads so so much :'v He also loves Nimona very dearly.

>He sees both of his dads being affective with each other and he copies that, as well as other things. Holds Balli's face to look into his eyes directly (he doesn't know that what Ambrosius does is just touch their foreheads together), he smacks his mouth against Ambrosius' face, harshly, and leaving him full of drool as he tries to bite him (doesn't know how to kiss yet, but when he figures that out he's always giving them), smacks Nimona's head with his little hands (he's trying to pet her hair, like he usually sees his abba petting the pink creatures) and all that. He's very sweet I'm telling you waa :'''v

-Ballister and Ambrosius try not to make Nimona take care of Baby too much, but Nimona herself looks for chances to take care of him.

>Also when he had been just born, of course Ballister and Ambrosius were all sleep-deprived and busy, so she would transform to look like either of them and Baby wouldn't tell the difference. If all, he was happy when all of a sudden there were two of either of his dads :''v

-Dumb headcanon that when Baby cried at night, they usually went 'ro-sham-bo' about it, and every single time they do the same hand gesture, and at the fifth or fourth (depending on how tired he is), Ambrosius will go ah fuck it >:( and just stand up himself to see what Baby needs. This happens way too much, and Ballister knows, and Ambrosius knows too. Baby doesn't but he's glad that every time he cries, it's very likely that his daddy will show up after a while.

-I'm thinking that Ballister would be that kind of dad that used to be afraid of holding his baby when they were a newborn, and then plays with them roughly when they stop being too fragile.

(Translation) First part Ballister (walking): Okay- Careful... (First day out of the clinic) Second part: Ballister: Do I throw him your way, Nimona? Nimona: Yeah, throw him!

-Ballister is one for darker clothes and all that, but when they found out about Baby, he started getting the most colorful clothes for them. Whenever he went out for whatever reason during those months, he came back with at least one piece of clothing, be it a onesie, a pair of socks, a hat, or some cute overalls. Baby's clothes drawer had already been overflowing with clothes just a few months before he had been born, and they had to get another one to fit in all the clothes because Ballister refused to stop getting more.

>Something something him only using darker clothes since he was a little kid and his dad not being able to afford him a bigger wardrobe and wanting to give Baby all the stuff he didn't have - thinking about my mom in this sense, she said she had bought me so many cute clothes when I was a baby bc she had had to share all her clothes with her sisters and their clothes had never been that nice bc of money and :'v

-Broskii I got more headcanons from when they were expecting Baby and I want to tell them all to you BUT I gotta make another post exclusively about that pipipi

-I know that the creator of Nimona said that the Institution most likely got dissolved, but I think this thing works as the cops and police of investigations and stuff, so maybe they didn't dissolve it, but rather stated new policies and values to be taught to the current knights and also to the future generations. And this change still takes a lot of time to happen but it does happen so- yippie ?

>Sorry I say this just so Ballister and Ambrosius can still be knights pipipi. Ballister is Sir Goldenheart and Ambrosius is Captain Goldenheart.

>With that, comes this thought that Nimona gave a knife to Baby once and was like, be free, my child! like taping a knife to a roomba, and then Baby used it like a sword and ran happily to show his dads that he too was cool and had a very big knife like they do when they use their shiny clothes.

>(debating this one bc yeah Nimona loves chaos and hurting people and breaking stuff but she definitely wouldn't like Baby hurting himself, but I still drew this waa I love when babies want to be like their parents)

(Papi means daddy)

-When Baby grows up, he isn't very passionate about becoming a knight (like Ballister had been) and neither of his fathers were keen on forcing him on knighthood (like it happened to Ambrosius), so he dosn't become a knight when he's older, and takes an interest in sciences (blitzmeyer mentioned?? I know her design was used for the queen, but I don't care I'll fit her here one way or another she's my fav scientist) and goes to college and all that, he also likes mechanics and overall stuff that Ballister likes.

>And it's definitely because his abba had been talking to him about this stuff whenever he could (because he loves this stuff, and even before Baby was born, and since they were supposed to talk to the baby so they could recognize their voices, Balli just rambled about this and that, and sometimes even narrated what he was currently working on and stuff :'''v Expecting Headcanons my beloveds)

>And both Nimona and Ambrosius are like: Yeah, see? Even he agrees (about him forgiving Ambrosius a tad bit too quickly, even if both knights had been manipulated and stuff), while Ballister doesn't know if to be exasperated that they don't let the topic go, or laugh because it's pretty amusing how offended Baby is in his behalf over something that happened nearly five years before he was even born.

>Eventually they have to explain everything that surrounded the whole thing and Baby feels actually a tad bit bad for getting as angry as he got at Ambrosius. He's like oops sorry daddy 🧍(I'm still petty though)

>Baby hadn't talked much until he was around three or four, usually just answering things or repeating stuff whenever his dads tried to teach him new words, but then one day he answered a very long rant from Ballister about animals (nerd, had said Nimona) with more animal facts and both Balli and Nimona were like :0 And since then Baby hadn't shut up, and he's always talking.

> Since they share interests, he and Ballister talk a lot about stuff (Balli is like nice, there's two of us now, because Nimona doesn't have it in themself to listen to him talk 23348 hours about one thing, and Baby actually responds with yapping of his own, unlike Ambrosius who is glad to attentively listen to him for hours but doesn't do much more than be receptive of the information most times pipipi) (y'know when someone is talking passionately about something that they like but you don't, but you're happy to hear them talk anyways? that thing sjdj)

(is yapping the correct word? Over at TikTok they use it as talking a lot, so I picked it from context, I hadn't really looked up if it's correctly used sdjksd)

-Baby is a simultaneous bilingual and learned English, Urdu and Korean from his dads and Nimona.

>With this, I'd think Ambrosius was one too (given that he was exposed to English and Korean since he was a baby), but Balli had had to learn English when he was past three maybe since his dad hadn't been very good at it and had mostly spoken in Urdu? Not sure how languages would work in the kingdom, but I guess it's the same as countries where there are different dialects or languages in different regions. (? La verdad no sé, toy chamuyando skjds)

-When he's 14 he gets a growth spurt as expected but then gets even taller than Ballister, and Nimona finds it hilarious (she got surpassed in height two years ago) And he was expected to be tall anyways because both his dads were tall too, but Ballister was like c'mon >:(

-When he got old enough and learned about the whole Queen's death thing, he spent the whole afternoon throwing Ambrosius angry looks, arms crossed and all. And after a beat of silence, he'd suddenly say: No, and you know what angers me the most? and then would ramble about literally everything the man had done wrong at that moment, all while Ambrosius himself nodded in agreement. Then Baby would say (to Balli): You forgave him way too quickly, abba, I would've burned his house down or- I don't know- but how?! And just like that?!

-Nimona was determined on teaching Baby all she knew, and Ballister was like yeah it's okay if he turns out like you, but turned out that Baby is the most chill kid ever actually, like he lacks this wish for mayhem that many kids have, like Nimona hoped he'd have (like she expected the antichrist/chucky or something). In execution, at least, because he has great ideas, if Nimona's willing to make them true.

Baby, about seven: Nimona, and what if *a plan in excruciating detail of the most deranged nature* Nimona: HEHE YEAH >:D Let's do it! Baby: No, but you do it :) Nimona: huh ??

>And this is because he knows that Nimona can do all this better and he thinks it's funny to watch her wreak havoc, while also not getting in trouble himself. (His dads tell him be a good kid and he's like yup I'll be a good kid c:)

-Nimona draws Baby like a little star because he's small (plus there's Ballister drawing over her drawings, thinking about him picking Nimona's drawing habits of scribbling on top whatever comes to mind)

(Nimona's saying: make your own drawings! while trying to push him away, and Ballister's laughing - their arms are like in a weird position that in my head made sense shdjdh)

-Plus here's a drawing of Nimona having cat behaviors (becoming a loaf anywhere) (ronroneo means purring).

>When Baby hadn't been born yet, she'd loaf right over Ballister's belly and simply sleep or make biscuits sometimes, and when he tried to take her off himself, she'd try to not use her claws but she'd grab against his shirt anyways, going BUT BOSS- Baby and me are chilling! And this translated as Nimona loafing on top of Baby whenever he's quiet enough, after he's born.

-I made another post about the comic versions of Ballister and Ambrosius on TikTok, and added a comic version of Baby too, following the logic on his current design (Balli's hair and eyebrows, Ambrosius' nose and eyes, and all that)

>'Papito Corazón' in other countries means a very good, diligent father (? I think), and at least in Chile is used sarcastically for men that are emotionally or financially neglectful with their children 😭 Comic Ambrosius is one at the beginning, but he becomes a better father later on, promise sdjsjd

>This Baby had a hard time recognizing Ambrosius at the beginning because they didn't spend much time together, and Baby has no object permanence yet.

>Anyway, Ballister and Ambrosius aren't a thing here, it was sort of a enemies-with-benefits kinda situation that led to Baby :'v

>(also know that I haven't read the comic yet, so if this seems ooc I agree with you, because I really don't know these characters askdjsa sorry)

-ALSO here's the first drawings I made of him before settling on this design, also it's from when I was trying to draw Nimona sjjs

>He had brown hair instead of black, but the rest is all almost the same.

And that's it so far!

If you read till here, I hope you liked it!

Have these sillies kissing, it's from a video I did 🧍 Ambrosius gives Ballister 23783 kisses and Balli gives him one (1)

Also, the limit for images is 30, which is a shame because I wanted to add more stuff sjdjsd I'll make another post if I compile enough drawings to make a big post, or make that post about them expecting Baby

(I love the Nimona mains so so much, they're 24/7 in my mind)

[daysofyellowroses]

steak

carmen berzatto x reader | 3.8k | tw: pregnancy, implied smut, general nonsense

“I need a favor.”

“A favor?”

“Yes. A favor.”

You were already beginning to regret asking, watching Carmy swivel in his chair and ponder the request. Or he was staring into space, it wasn't clear.

“Alright,” He nodded after a moment. “What is it?”

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself. It would have been easier to ask him to murder someone than what you were about to.

“It turns out that I am responsible for making 30 cupcakes for this Saturday and I could use some guidance.”

“I see,” Carmy nodded, pointing the spoon in his hand at you. “and what else? Sandwiches, burgers, hot dogs, stop me when I get the right one.”

You let out a sigh.

“And..three trays of sandwiches. And mini quiches, egg rolls, a crudités platter and a cake.”

“Okay,” Carmy sat up a little, lightly tapping the spoon against his cheek. “Just..a couple of questions.”

You walked closer to the desk, leaning against it and giving Carmy a nod. “Fire away.”

“First, why are you responsible for all of that?”

“Because apparently I promised my best friend if she ever got pregnant I would plan the entire baby shower.”

“Uh-huh. Why?”

“Because I was very, very intoxicated at her bachelorette party.”

He smirked a little, and you rolled your eyes with a small smile.

“Noted. Second question,”

“Third,” You interjected, holding up three fingers. “Technically.”

“Third question, is there a theme to this party?”

“No, of course not,” You frowned, folding your arms. “Themes are for kid's birthday parties and epic novels.”

“Hm, I thought so.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“It just doesn't seem very..you know,” Carmy set the spoon down in his lap before interlocking his hands. “cohesive, I guess.”

You rested your hand on the desk, lightly tapping your nails on the surface.

“I'm willing to ignore that remark if you help me.”

“Alright, fourth question..why do I have to help you?”

You thought about it for a moment, working out your best angle to get him on board.

“Well..because I love my best friend and I want to give her an amazing experience, it's basically free publicity for the new restaurant, and we're..you know,” You gestured between yourself and Carmy with a grin. “We're friends. We're close. We kissed that time.”

“Yeah, yeah we did,” Carmy nodded, looking down for a moment before looking up with a smile. “When we were like..six? I don't see what that has to do with me adding to my already hectic schedule.”

“I would just really appreciate your help, even just a little guidance,” You smiled, holding your hands up. “What is the point of having a world-class chef as a friend if he doesn't help you out occasionally..”

“I promise to think about it,” Carmy nodded, picking his spoon back up and pointing at you. “Can you cook anything more advanced than french toast?”

“Depends on your definition of advanced,” You shrugged, pushing off the desk. “I look forward to your decision, I know you'll make the right one.”

“Get out of here,” Carmy rolled his eyes with a small smile. “I'll text you.”

You were heading to the front door when you bumped into Richie, who was carrying a box he promptly dropped on the nearest plastic-covered surface when he saw you, wiping his hands.

“Hey. What brings you here?”

“Me?” You gestured to yourself as you walked closer to Richie. “I just..I thought it was time. To declare my undying love for you.”

“Hm,” Richie nodded, rubbing his jaw before stepping closer to you and touching your shoulder. “I gotta be honest, I thought you'd never do it. Vegas wedding?”

“Vegas wedding,” You nodded with a grin. “Bye fuck-face.”

“See you later darling.”

It was the following afternoon when you got a very simple text from Carmy, relief flooding you as you read it.

‘Fine. Address?’

Opening your front door and seeing Carmen Berzatto standing on the other side was something you hadn't experienced for a long time, but it was a welcome return.

“Come on in, everything is set up in the kitchen,” You smiled, holding the door open and frowning slightly as you saw a worn grocery store bag in Carmy's hand. “Did you bring stuff when I told you that you didn't need to?”

“Sure did,” Carmy nodded, gesturing to his shoes. “Off? On?”

“Whatever you're comfortable with,” You waved your hand, gesturing to the bag. “I got everything, you really didn't need to waste your money on..liquid potassium or whatever, the food is not going to be anything too complicated.”

Carmy raised a brow as he slipped off his shoes. “You do know I'm a chef, not a mad scientist, right?”

“Oh shut up,” You sighed as he laughed, leading him into the kitchen.

“The fuck is liquid potassium anyway?”

“Here we are,” You spun around to face Carmy, gesturing to your humble kitchen, the dining table covered in various ingredients, in no particular order. “I really appreciate your help, I know you're busy.”

“It's fine,” Carm nodded, walking over to the table and setting the bag on the floor before picking up things on the table and inspecting them. “I'm not uh..I'm not needed, today.”

“Well I need you,” You grinned, walking over to the table. “The plan is I prepare everything today, then tomorrow I just have to heat up, and serve.”

“Organized, I like it,” Carmy nodded, looking over to you. “Where exactly do I fit in all this?”

“You..are my assistant for the day. Executive assistant, really.”

You gestured to the bag on the floor. “Show me what you got.”

An hour later, your kitchen was a whole lot messier, but progress was going well. Carmy had the patience of a saint, calmly explaining how everything was done. You were surprised how quickly you were picking up what he taught you, usually you got halfway through a YouTube cooking tutorial and gave up, ordering takeout instead.

“Okay, what's next on the list?” You asked, sprinkling herbs onto the egg roll pastry before wiping your hands. “I still can't believe you made me write a fucking list.”

“You needed the list,” Carmy grinned, reaching for the slip of paper. “Trust me. Okay, once you've finished those we can..almost cross off all the savory, just crudités but that's pretty simple. I can show you how to make dips, if you want.”

“Thought you'd never ask,” You grinned, flicking a loose crumb of pastry at him. “the vegetables are in the..”

You looked up for a minute, trying to think.

“Bottom of the fridge,” Carmy supplied, gently touching your back as he passed you to get to the fridge. “got them.”

You rolled up the pastry under your hands, setting it aside with the other egg rolls that had been prepared.

“So how has it been, being back?” You asked, going to rinse your hands. “I feel like I never asked you properly.”

“It's..fine, yeah,” Carmy replied, his head in the fridge when you glanced over to him. “Hasn't changed, much, well..you know. Never thought I'd end up back here.”

“At least you got out,” You shrugged, drying your hands before moving back to the counter. “How was New York? Incredible?”

“Incredible,” Carmy repeated, coming back to join you and reaching for a bowl. “Hand me that cucumber, please?”

“I need to visit one day,” You sighed, reaching for the cucumber and handing it over. “It's like..it's just there, I can go anytime, but I don't..I will, though.”

“Mm,” Carmy nodded. “You can pour greek yogurt into a bowl if you want.”

“On it,” You smiled, going to get a bowl. “I feel like such a domestic goddess right now, I gotta say. I never really cook. Not like this.”

“Are you enjoying it?” Carmy asked, not looking up from cutting up the cucumber. “I know cutting up vegetables isn't exactly an adrenaline rush.”

“I am enjoying it,” You got a bowl and went to set it on the counter, standing by Carmy. “It's relaxing. I'm not thinking about anything except the next step. I don't have to worry about anything except what I add next.”

“Lemon,” Carmy gestured to the yellow fruit over on the table. “Worry over.”

You smiled as you spooned the yogurt into the bowl, glancing over to Carmy. “You wanna know a secret?”

“Is it..that you're actually a serial killer who kills your victims by liquid potassium poisoning?”

“Oh shut the fuck up,” You groaned, going to grab the lemons as Carmy laughed and shook his head.

“Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. What's this other secret?”

“No, I'm not telling you now,” You sighed, taking the lemons back to the counter. “If you're just gonna be an ass.”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Carm murmured softly, gently nudging you. “Please tell me.”

“It's a world exclusive secret,” You grinned, walking over to the table and picking up your bag from one of the chairs. “Only three people will now know..”

You reached into your bag, pulling out a clean white envelope.

“Time to see if we need to use the pink or blue food dye.”

“What do you mean?” Carmy looked over to you. “Like a..gender reveal? That's still a thing?”

“I know it's a little cheesy,” You shrugged, looking down at the envelope. “But my best friend is just really excited to have this baby, she wants to know everything she can. So she gave me this,” You held up the envelope. “And I get to whip up some frosting.”

“So, what's it gonna be?” Carmy asked as you walked back over.

“Let's see,” You opened the envelope slowly, feeling Carmy's eyes on you. “Ah..not what I expected.”

You handed the paper over to Carmy as you picked up a lemon. “There's gonna be a little kid running around that looks like her..crazy.”

“Nice, though,” Carmy shrugged, setting the paper aside. “You know, if you..if you're someone that wants that.”

“Mm,” You nodded, taking a knife to cut the lemon. “She has, for a long time. I was so excited for her when she told me. Then I went and agreed to do all this, because..”

“You were drunk?” Carmy supplied.

“Yes, that,” You laughed, shaking your head. “It's not going that bad though, right? Everything is under control.”

“True, but uh..” You looked up as you felt Carmy's hand on your arm, looking down and finding yourself staring at his tattoos.

“You might want to cut the lemons, not your fingers.”

“What? Shit,” You frowned as you looked back to your hands, a trickle of blood appearing. “Spoke too soon.”

“It's okay,” Carmy led you to the sink. “just wash it off, have you got band-aids?”

“Uh..yeah, I think so,” You nodded, running the water. “in the bathroom cabinet.”

“Okay, wait here.”

A few minutes later you were leaning against the counter watching Carmy apply a band-aid to your finger with the precision of a surgeon.

“I can't remember the last time someone put a band-aid on me,” You murmured softly. “Thanks.”

“Don't mention it,” Carm looked up, his hand still holding yours. “I'm an expert at it.”

“So I see,” You smiled, inspecting your finger. “Excellent work. I'll be sure and recommend you.”

“I might need the extra work,” He sighed. “We're getting close to the deadline and it just feels like we're not progressing.”

“Hey,” You gently squeezed his hand. “Stressing out won't change anything except to make everything harder. Just keep going, do what you need to do, and then on the tiny, tiny, chance it doesn't work out you have a career lined up as a professional band-aider. You can patch up my victims.”

Carmy was quiet for a moment before he laughed, really laughed, and you felt a weight slip off your shoulders.

After a moment a comfortable silence fell over the two of you, your eyes held on each other.

“I‐”

“I should actually be going,” Carmy spoke before you could finish. “I just remembered I need to call this guy about the..”

“Okay,” You nodded, clearing your throat. “I can..I can handle the rest. Don't let me keep you if you're in a rush.”

You could see the guilt in Carm’s eyes, choosing to look away.

“I'm sorry to leave you in the middle of all this.”

“Don't be sorry,” You shrugged, looking down to your bandaged finger. “It's my responsibility, I got it. Thank you for your help.”

Carmen gave you a nod and you mustered up a smile in return, watching him leave.

A couple of hours later, the sun had set and your kitchen lights were bright as you flicked some cupcake batter off your fingers. When you heard a knock at the door you looked up, pausing for a minute before grabbing a cloth to wipe your hands.

“Coming, hang on.” You called, setting the cloth aside and heading to the door.

It wasn't a total surprise to see Carmen on the other side.

“Hey,” He said after a moment. “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” You stood aside, holding the door open. “Come on in.”

You watched him as he took a deep breath, hand clutching the zip of his jacket.

“So, about earlier, I-”

“I know,” You smiled, holding up your hand. “It was a lot. It was fun, and..domestic, and kind of intense, and that's a lot. I get it.”

“Yeah,” Carmy breathed, nodding sofly. “But..I'd still like to help you out, if you'll let me.”

“Then get your shoes off and get in the kitchen,” You smiled. “I'm just starting the cupcakes. Assistance is definitely needed.”

Half an hour and a lot of batter later, the cupcakes were in the oven, and the daunting prospect of the cake stood in front of you.

“Do I really need to make a cake and cupcake?” You mused, looking at the messy counter. “It feels excessive.”

“You're making the cake,” Carm nudged you gently. “Show me what you've learned.”

“Prepare to be amazed,” You grinned. “For better or worse.”

You cleared some space on the counter and glanced over to Carmy for a moment with a raised brow. “Hold still, you got batter in your hair.”

You gently moved your hand to carefully remove the fleck of batter.

“Would I be out of line to suggest you might be overdue for a haircut?”

Carmy laughed softly and shook his head, ruffling his messy curls.

“It's on a list, somewhere. I'll get round to it eventually.”

“I could do it,” You suggested, looking back to the counter and taking a clean bowl. “I know my way around a pair of scissors.”

“Really?”

“Really really,” You nodded, reaching for the flour. “you help me with this cake, I'll make you look like a new man.”

“Deal.”

Once the cupcakes were out of the oven and the cake was in, you sent Carmy off to wash his hair in your shower, leaning against the counter when he was gone and taking a deep breath. You reached for the note that your best friend had given you, smiling as you read over it.

When Carm came back into the kitchen, you felt your heart race a little. He was dressed the same of course but his damp hair was slicked back, and he had a warm, clean scent that still had a musk to it that was really doing it for you.

“The cake will be a while, I checked,” You smiled. “Skewered it like a pro. Take a seat, let's get you fixed up.”

“Are you going to skewer me?” Carmy asked, raising a brow as he sat on the chair you'd moved up by the counter. “I'm a little intrigued.”

“You'll see,” You grinned, picking up the blue towel you'd grabbed when Carmy was in the shower. “Be on your best behavior just in case.”

“Yes ma'am.”

“Alright,” You draped the towel around Carmy's shoulders, adjusting it a little before picking up the scissors and a comb. “Let's see what we can do. Head down, please.”

“About earlier,” Carmy began, and you felt a knot twist in your stomach. “I..I just want to apologize, I shouldn't have just left like that.”

“It's okay,” You murmured softly, gently combing his hair and holding the ends between your fingers. “Like I said, I get it.”

“No, it's..it's complicated,” Carmy sighed. “Because..I don't want you to think that I didn't enjoy being domestic and having fun with you, because I did, and I think you're great, I really..I really like you and it just freaked me the fuck out a little.”

“Like when we were six,” You smiled softly, gently snipping his hair. “And I kissed you. You freaked out and left me alone in that treehouse. I was devastated.”

“Hey I didn't expect it,” Carm shrugged. “You didn't give me a heads up.”

“I'm giving you one now,” You grinned, lightly tapping his head with the comb. “Head up, please.”

“Why did you do it?” Carm asked, soft curiosity in his voice.”I mean, why did you..why me?”

“You weren't like the other boys in our class,” You shrugged, gently sweeping the comb through Carmy's hair. “And you weren't like Richie or your brother. You were just..Carmy. I always thought about you. I liked that you were doing your own thing. Tilt your head sideways, please..thanks.”

He stayed quiet while you cut his hair so you kept talking.

“I don't think I really had a crush on you or anything back then, I just liked you. Then as we got older I started seeing you differently but I never acted on it because I didn't think you were interested. We never really hung out much, for all I knew you were a major dick. Then,you were gone and I tried to forget you..head down, please.”

“What do you think now?”

You thought about it for a moment, holding the comb in Carmy's hair.

“I think..you've actually got really great hair.”

“That so?”

“Oh yeah,” You nodded. “I mean usually it looks like a bird should be nesting in it so anything is an improvement.”

He laughed slightly and you felt your shoulders drop a little.

“I also think,” You murmured softly, slowly closing the scissors on the ends of his hair. “Those tattoos on your hands are really doing it for me.”

“Yeah?

“Big time.”

A silence hung over you as you continued the haircut, trying to keep your hands steady.

“Just because I freaked out doesn't mean that I don't..that I haven't been thinking about you.”

“Yeah?” You mused, lightly brushing some hair off the towel.

“Big time. But..” Carmy let out a sigh, clearing his throat. “I'm really not..an expert at the whole relationship thing. I'm not even a novice, I'm like..a nightmare. I can't do the flowers and dates and meeting the parents and all that like..I know I should want all that and maybe I do but..something just stops me and I can't..I can't do it.”

You slowly walked around to stand in front of Carmy, meeting his eyes as you glanced down.

“Head up, please.”

You focused your attention on his hair, feeling the nervous energy radiating from him.

“First of all, you know my parents. So that's not relevant. Second of all..I'm not saying that I want a relationship because I don't even know if I do. But..I wouldn't mind having someone I hang out with, watching movies and talking shit and eating takeout and figuring out if we want to be more but it's okay because we're still good how we are. And I could see you being that person.”

You took a step back, tilting your head slightly.

“All done.”

“Good,” Carmy nodded, standing up and stepping closer to you, his hands reaching out to touch your face and leaning in close til you felt like you couldn't breathe. “You can check the cake.”

You let out a frustrated sigh before laughing and moving your hands to grip the towel around Carmy's shoulders.

“You're definitely a major dick.”

You pulled him in for a kiss, feeling a rush shoot through you. When you pulled back you thought your heart was on fire.

“Wow, you've really improved,” You grinned. “I'm impressed.”

“You don't know the half of it.” Carmy grinned, pulling you back in for another kiss.

He wasn't lying, as you discovered when he put you up on the counter and feasted on you til you cried.

You had wasted no time, pulling him right down onto the kitchen floor to show what you'd learned too.

The next day, when you watched your best friend cut into the cake and scream with joy as layers of pink and blue sponge were revealed, you made a silent vow to volunteer your services more often.

[awakenedevildays]

「quitting cigarettes and picnics」 Art Donaldson x F!reader

you can read the other parts here!

━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━

"no smoking" you take the cigarette from his hand just as he is about to light it with the lighter, you sit up on the picnic blanket and his head falls against the grass in frustration.

"Not againnn" he whines, his hand still in the position it was when he still had the cigarette between the fingers. 

"it's bad for your health" you say a stern tone, trying to come across as assertive, you've been trying to get him to stop smoking for some time now, you place the cigarette back in the packet carefully.

"Please, I smoked only four the whole week!" he reaches for the packet again but you put it in the back pocket of your jeans 

"And I'm really proud of you, but let's keep it that way and also, tennis players don't smoke".

 "Federer actually doe-".

"I don't care what other tennis players do" you interrupt him and Art laughs out loud as you slap his shoulder lightly. 

"I'm serious Art, smoking is a horrible addiction, and it's not good for your health at all" he looks at you from his lying position, an affectionate smile on his face as you show your concern for his health. 

His hand reaches for yours and bring it to his lips to kiss it "It's hard to stop, I've been doing it since I was 16, give me some time I promise I'll stop, for you" his hands takes yours over his heart.

The feel of his lips against you your hand calms you down a little, it's a small and simple gesture, but it means a lot. Hearing him say that he wants to stop smoking for you makes your heart flutter. You look into his eyes and see sincerity there, "I don't want you to stop for me, I want you to do it for yourself" you say in a serious tone, your eyes locking with his to emphasize the importance of this decision.

"Look, if you give me one last cigarette I'll never smoke again" his pinky is out for you to take and you look skeptical at him "you promise?" you ask.

"I swear."

You study his face, your eyes looking him over for any sign of dishonesty, after a moment of searching, you see nothing but honesty in his expression. You link pinkies with him and chuckle "okay, but only because you pinky promised" you joke while grabbing the packet out your pocket and hand him the cigarette, a few moments later the cigarette is lit between his lips and he inhales from it. 

You watch him intently, the way his lips wraps around the cigarette, the way his chest puffs up as he inhales the smoke, taking in every detail of this moment "I gotta say... you look really hot right now" you admit and Art rests his back against the tree you two are resting under, the sun is warm and the breeze is so pleasing on the skin, Stanford's park in spring is so beautiful, he is so beautiful.

A slight smile forms on his lips as he takes in another drag from his cigarette. He looks over to you and whispers playfully "not as hot as you" his eyes locks with yours, his focus solely on you and the way your eyes sparkle in the sunlight. He lifts his hand and gently brushes a stray strand of hair out of your face, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

He holds in the smoke for a few seconds before blowing it out in the opposite direction, away from your face. He takes another drag from the cigarette, savoring the taste and the feeling of the smoke filling his lungs one last time. He lets out a small chuckle and looks back at you, a playful glint in his eyes. "You really think I'm hot when I smoke?" he teases, his voice low and husky as he holds the cigarette between his fingers, you nod. 

"Maybe I shouldn't stop then" your brows furrows slightly as you try to maintain a serious expression, but his teasing words and his cheeky smile make it difficult to keep a straight face. You pretend to consider his proposal, to be deep in thought before responding with a playful tone "hmm... I guess you have a point there" you say with a wry smile as you try to keep up the facade of seriousness, "but I think you would be hotter if you did what I ask" Art scoffs.

"always so bossy".

You chuckle softly, "what can I say? I like taking charge" you reach out and grab his hand, lacing your fingers with his, your thumb gently caressing the back of his hand. A mischievous smile forming on his lips. 

"Not always though" he answers and you blush. He grins even wider when he sees your red cheeks, relishing in the fact that he can have such a strong effect on you with just a few words. "aww, did I make you blush? " he teases, gently pinching your cheek, you swat his hand away and he realizes he totally forgot the cigarette he has in his other hand.

He chuckles with you and takes a final drag from the almost finished cigarette before extinguishing it on the grass, making sure it is completely out, he grabs your wrist to get you near him "alright, no more smoking, I promise" he says with a smile before leaning in "I think I deserve a kiss" but you push him by his chest. 

"No kissing". 

He pouts dramatically, his lips sticking out in a playful show of disappointment "aw, cmon, just a little kiss?" he pleads, trying to coax you into giving in to his charms, but you're not budging. 

You hold firm, shaking your head with a smile and chuckle "nice try, but nope, I hate tasting the tabacco when we kiss". 

He lets out a long, dramatic sigh and feigns a wounded expression, "oh, that's right" he says, his shoulders sagging as he looks up at you with a pitiful look, "but what about just a peck on the cheek, huh?" he reaches out and pokes your side, you yelp "just a little kiss, I'm desperate for your affection" he says with a playful grin, "don't leave a man hanging".  

You sigh and lean in to kiss his cheek softly, "thank you" you whisper and he smiles lovingly at you, you feel his hand slip into your back pocket, placing the cigarettes there, it's a small gesture, but it means a lot. A sense of trust and comfort washes over you as you look up into his eyes, the love and admiration you have for him clear as day. You smile and lay next to him, your head on his chest as you close your eyes, the birds chirping are bullying you to sleep and you hug his waist tightly. 

As he holds you in his embrace, his fingers caress your back, lulling you into a state of contentment and relaxation. For a moment you're both quiet, just enjoying each other's company in the warm summer air, the gentle rustling of leaves and the sound of the other students nearby creating a peaceful soundtrack to the scene. He shifts slightly, pulling you closer to him as he rests his chin on top of your head.

"We should get up, we don't want to be waken up by the sprinklers... again" you mumble and Art laughs at the memory.

"You're right, we definitely don't want that" he says with a grin, he runs his hand down your side to give your hip a squeeze and gives you one last lingering kiss on the top of your head before reluctantly letting go of you, sitting up straight. With a content sigh, he stretches his arms above his head before getting up on his feet, you're up on yours seconds later.

After folding the blanket to put it in Art's backpack his hand takes yours "wanna sleep in my room tonight? we could order take out and watch a movie" he suggests and you nod happily "sounds good" you yawn and rest your head on his shoulder as he guides you towards his room. 

"Brush your teeth first, I wanna kiss you" you mumble and Art laugh softly 'always so bossy' he thinks as he looks down at you lovingly. 

"yes m'am". 

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I can't stop writing and posting lol, but he would stop smoking for you and I will die on that hill.

Do not copy or repost.