#love the crispiness its so good...

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Wait holdup what’s this about Howdy’s shop burning down and nearly taking him with it?? (talking about human au)

oh yeah lmfao it caught fire

it wasn't like... foul play or anything. in my mind it was some sort of electrical failure or bizarre accident. like a lightning strike! actually wait i like that lightning strike idea bc then it could be Raining for this very dramatic scene and i do love me some rain juxtaposing fire <3

and Howdy would've been fine! he got all of his employees and customers out of the building, including himself. he handed them off to Barnaby & Wally, who had been swinging by for dinner with fantastic timing (the fire department was just then arriving). then, like an idiot, Howdy went right back inside the Very On Fire building!

bc, ok, he lives in his store. specifically, above it. the ground floor is the store, then there's a staircase going up to an apartment. and naturally, Howdy was not gonna abandon all of his / the store's legal documents (also his coupon stash) to burn.

so in his mind he was like "yeah ill just pop in, grab these very important files, and then get out. easy!". babe, you're giving Barnaby & Wally a heart attack. that's what you're doing. dumbass (affectionate)

but yeah he's in there, in the burning building, smoke everywhere. meanwhile outside firefighters (and Wally) have to physically hold Barnaby back from going in after Howdy, even though a few more firefighters already went in to find him. its all very dramatic! blah blah blah the front door becomes unusable, blah blah blah the apartment windows explode due to thermal stress & also bc i want them to, etc etc

long story short the firefighters get Howdy out through the back, and mostly unscathed at that! ofc smoke inhalation is a thing, he's got some minor cuts and burns, but it's really not that bad! lucky bastard! he gets taken to the hospital to get treated & make sure he's fine, and he is.

naturally he stays with Barnaby & Wally for a while. he doesn't have a say in the matter lol he was planning on getting a motel room or somethin, but Barnaby picked him up from the hospital, took him home, and went "alright the guest room is ready for you we can go shopping tomorrow for anything you need, you live here now". good thing Howdy rescued his coupons!

the fire damage to the building is, thankfully, mostly cosmetic. it takes a while to clean & fix it, but Howdy has great friends and a wonderful community to help out! everyone chips in, some fundraisers happen, Wally sells some Darling™️ Exclusives™️, etc. long story short they get the store back up & running, and with some new bells and whistles to go with it!

[anxiously-sidequesting]

Yknow I think one of the saddest parts about Malorn being a professor is that his social circle in particular must have taken a hit. Idk if he had any homies before his promotion but with that Teacher and Student relationship having to be almost strictly professional, I can't imagine it would be smiled upon to have Malorn acting buddy buddy with some of his peers anymore. And like that's really sad that one of the many aspects of his childhood is essentially taken from him because he's in this awkward spot of mentally, physically, and emotionally at par with his students but has to be different than that in order to be their teacher

Like imagine how lonely that is bro. He can't be a kid with his students anymore but he's not an adult that can necessarily relate to other adults either so he's just in this separate space all by himself because there are no others like him (except The Wizard who has at least some similarities)

Thinking about how Malorn's former friends just slowly drifting away from him not because they hate him, but because they have to regard him as a teacher FIRST above all else is super sad and once again I'm crying for Malorn in the evening

[s0fter-sin]

y’all i just made garlic bread pizza, do this, do this immediately

[kethabali]

figured out the recipe for the perfect smoothie consistency and taste so now i'm gonna eat smoothies everyday

[plague-vulture]

idk why these things my dad got from a taco truck are called "el vampiro" but they're sos so tasty and they have a bunch of goodies and I smmmmmmmmsjshks s

[mrfoox]

Yeah.... Oliver with extra energy is the best and im 😳

[honeytonedhottie]

honeys guide to fall⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🧸💕

i am so so excited for fall 2024. this fall we're serving bambi doll, cupcake and espresso scented, french tips and nudes, crispy chocolate croissants and coffees, sweaters and mini skirts…💬🎀

FALL BEAUTY ;

♡ soft bouncy curls

♡ nude lip combos

i recommend the nyx butter gloss (madeleine) and the nyx chocolate lip liner for a pretty chocolaty look. if ur looking for another nude lip combo use the nyx butter gloss (angel food cake) and the nyx club hopper lip liner…💬🎀

♡ french tips

♡ nude colored manicures and pedicures

♡ marshmallow scented hand creams

as the weather gets colder it becomes more and more important to keep ur skin moisturized and hydrated. carrying around a sweet smelling hand cream can help your hands to stay soft and not dry…💬🎀

♡ fall scented lip balms, body nectars and fragrances

pumpkin, coffee, vanilla, cupcake, chocolate, cinnamon, caramel and buttercream scents are giving fall…💬🎀

lets talk fall beauty products and scents because my favorite part about literally everything is the pampering aspect and the smelling super yummy so lets get into it. the body products i recommend to capture that fall, bambi eyed, doll scent and vibes are.

the sugar cookie body wash from native

ooey gooey cookie body wash from philosophy

chocolate chip body wash from philosophy

all the cozy fireside s’more scents from bodycology

coco coffee body scrub from victorias secret pink

cupcake swirl body fragrance from bodycology

♡ for nails, tapered square french tips or oval shaped nails in nude colors

♡ claw clip hairstyles including half up-half downs or just a classic claw clip pony

FALL FASHION ;

fall fashion to me is tights and mini skirts. leg warmers and uggs and form fitting sweaters. let’s talk about some fall fashion. the tights and mini skirt combo is a classic and it’s an amazing way to incorporate wearing mini skirts even as the weather begins to get a little colder. the tights add a nice touch, even if it isn’t the color of ur skin tone, tights IN GENERAL look rly nice.

ankle boots, ugg boots, BOOTS are so so fall. i rly love ankle boots that have a heel to them and bonus points if ur fall shoes include fur. the fall shoes on my shopping list are ->

ugg boots

ankle boots

mary jane style shoes

ballet flats

form fitting sweaters and jackets are so in for the fall. along with tracksuits. the color pallete for having a bambi doll fall are very much browns, cashmeres, and baby pink. honestly think of neapolitan colours. pink, brown and an off-whitish almost pastel yellow. think PASTRY PRINCESS.

baby phat puffers are perfect for the transition from fall to winter and a good pair of jeans is CRUCIAL for fall. another thing i wanna talk about with fall fashion is LAYERING. layering is such an important aspect of fashion period but ESPECIALLY fall fashion. experiment with different lengths, textures etc. one of my favorite layering combination during the fall is ->

long sleeve tops with a camisole underneath

a form fitting long sleeve top (the ones with buttons at the front) look so DOLLY and adorable when u dont button it, and wear a camisole underneath. its just MWAH. some more fall fashion details also include ->

fur details

ribbons and lace details

delicate jewelry choices

tights and leg warmers

layering

boots

neopolitan cinnamon princess color scheme

long sleeves

mini skirts + tights combo

HOW TO BE A HOTTIE DURING FALL ;

to be a hottie during the fall lets talk about our fall essentials to be our hottest, healthiest and happiest selves this fall…💬🎀

♡ warm milk and honey with a pinch of cinnamon (a real treat)

♡ warm, buttery croissants

♡ wired headphones and a good fall playlist

a good fall playlist consists of artists like lana del rey, pink pantheress, sabrina carpenter and sade…💬🎀

♡ candles that smell like cinnamon cupcakes

♡ a few juicy novels to read

my favorite genres of books to read during this season include mystery, romance and historical fiction…💬🎀

♡ keep up with ur health

during the colder seasons its important to take good care of ur health so make sure that ur taking ur supplements/vitamins, drinking herbal teas and eating a balanced diet to avoid getting sick…💬🎀

[pearlymel]

Think i like you, best when you’re just with me—Alhaitham

꒰ Pairings ꒱: Student council president!Alhaitham x fem!reader.

꒰ warnings ꒱: none. Just kissing and a few touches.

“Are you done with your temper tantrum?” Alhaitham asked, a hint of mockery in his voice as he stared at you with a reserved calm expression.

“My temper tantrum?” You gasp, eyes blinking twice dramatically before clearing your throat to straighten.

You both are now standing outside at the school’s field where they held the yearly festival. Food stalls, and activities, plus the laughing students when snow started falling from the sky, lightly coating the landscape in dusting white. 

And as usuals, it wouldn’t be a normal day without fighting the president. 

“I was merely stating your flaws since you weren’t listening.” You continued huffing out while hugging yourself tightly.

Alhaitham sighed, clearly irritated with your attitude. He knew fully well that you were being dramatic, but he didn’t have the energy to entertain your antics any longer.

“And those flaws are…?” He inquired, raising his eyebrows questioningly and you roll your eyes.

“Oh don’t act so… so… perfect. I told you we should’ve picked another day for this stupid festival. Bur you insisted it should be today, when it’s clearly snowing!” You hissed at him before turning your back on him. He only stared at you blankly, clearly unimpressed by your attempt at offending him. 

“Well, I’m going back inside. This festival is rather too boring.” He informed you flatly, and casually draped his blazer around your shoulders before walking away.

You stand still, frozen and the gears in your head seemed to stop working for a moment.

Him? Giving you his blazer? Because you were cold? Your gaze travels down to his blazer, and a faint fragrance of his cologne drifts up to your nostrils. It’s subtle, a hint of warmth in the cool air. The scent mingles with the crispiness of the winter air, a delicate balance between the outdoors and his presence.

Your focus snaps back to reality as you hastily shake yourself from your thoughts. With a sudden realization, you quickly turn on your heel and stride back into the school building.

You feet takes you to a familiar place, the library where he usually resides for peace and quietness. When you reach the library corner he always makes a spot for himself, he takes off his noise canceling headphones and turns to you.

“And here I thought you enjoyed being outdoors?” Alhaitham commented with a sarcastic smile, but you only sigh and shake your head as you stepped forward to take off the blazer and place it on the table.

“Everyone outside is having fun yet you still chose to rot in this library.”

“That is correct. Perhaps you should stop always coming to me to look for trouble.”

“What if i just love annoying you and watch your expression change, can’t i do that?” You said for once, confidently stepping closer to where he was sitting, bending down to be on his level, eye to eye.

The unexpected move catches him off guard, his amusement deepens, and this time he’s surprised, his smile widens. 

You wonder why he’s smiling at first, but the close proximity makes your breath hitch slightly. Wait, snap out of it—you can’t possibly think he’s good looking up close or—

He took a deep breath, and locked eyes with you, the heat from his breath brushing against your chin; the temptation was too strong. The way he could touch you, and you would not move at all.

“What are you…” As your nerves take over, you swallows noticeably, your body acting on its own. Your hand automatically reaches out and grips his shoulder, fingers clenching the fabric as if to steady yourself. It's an involuntary reaction, The weakness in her knees only adds to her dependence on his support. His eyes roamed your body, noticing the way the back of your dress hugged the smooth curves of your body. He could practically see the exact outline of her hips, and the way your neck bends when you move your head is just…

No one was watching. They were in a dimly-lit library.

With a swift motion, his hands grip your waist, gently but firmly pulling you towards him. You find yourself settling on his lap, your body fitting perfectly against his, “Hold on—“ how did you end up on his lap again? 

You freeze for a second before glaring at him, but again, but you didn’t move away, “now this is inappropriate.” 

Your legs were dangling on his sides off the chair, it was almost funny to him, how your words contradicted your actions. “You can always get up if this is truly inappropriate,” he replied, taking in the scent of your hair, of your body, of your fragrance.

Your legs were dangling on his sides, hands still nestled on his shoulders, and you give him an almost pouty expression, “what?” He asked quietly, eyes drifting to your lips. Your noses almost touching.

It took all of his willpower to not pull your face forward and close the gap. You were so, so close, feeling your body heat was already driving him insane.

He finally leans in, his breath warm against your skin. His nose nuzzles your neck as he inhales deeply, taking in your scent. His hands tighten their grip on your hips, making you gasp. His fingers pressing into the soft flesh, ensuring you're close. There's a mix of tenderness and possessiveness in the gesture, the gentle pressure both comforting and dominating.

"It just seemed like you've been waiting for this," he whispered against your skin, further making your body feel even hotter. Your heart rate quickens, your skin tingles, and an undeniable rush of desire courses through your veins.

The words on the tip of your tongue were about to escape when he suddenly dips his head and brushes his lips against your neck. Your voice catches in your throat, the unexpected sensation sending a shiver down your spine. His lips are gentle but firm, their touch leaving a trail of shivers as he kisses a path up to your jawline. The sensation is both surprising and intoxicating, leaving you momentarily speechless.

"What if someone sees—" but you're interrupted again when he flattens his tongue on your sensitive skin, making you almost moan when he licks a stripe along the curve of your pretty neck.

"Still resisting?" He whispered, his breath evidently quickening as his hand gently massages you back, his fingers rubbing against your skin like it's the most intimate experience of his life.

You then attempt to move away, pushing yourself off his lap, but his reaction is immediate and swift. Before you have a chance to fully distance yourself, he rises with you, his body closing the gap between you. He follows your movement, taking control of the situation and pinning you against the nearest bookshelf. His chest presses against yours, his strength making it clear that escape is not an option. His arms cage you in, trapping you between his body and the hard surface behind you.

His buries his face into your neck, his hand snakes behind to the back of your neck while the other one firmly on your hip.

He leans in, bridging the remaining distance between your mouths, "Alhaitham—" his name leaves your lips so sweetly that he almost groans, lips pressing against yours, the contact gentle yet insistent. There's a possessive quality to his actions, as if to claim you as his own. The pressure of his lips against yours is both demanding and intoxicating.

He tried making your lips move together slowly, and passionately. "You taste better than i imagined," he panted between the kisses, his tongue sliding down to brush along your lower lip, which ultimately made you fail to hold in your moans.

"Sweetest voice too," alhaitham grunts, jead tilting and capturing your lips messily, taking advantage of your parting lips by pushing his tongue into your mouth, your fingers tightening around his necktie and collarbone as he was literally taking the air out of your lungs. His hand hiking up to your skirt, squeezing the flesh underneath it and pulling it closer to wrap it around his waist, making you mewl as his fingers brush under your thighs and closer to—

"... Excuse me." the sound of a hesitant voice suddenly interrupts your connection. Both your eyes flicker open as the unexpected intrusion breaks the spell of intimacy. The voice behind him seems to shake him from his own haze of desire, his body stiffening slightly as he registers the disruption.

It was a girl standing there. Behind alhaitham. Looking like a 7th grader at most.

Shit, you thought. You're both doomed.

"Watching two seniors... Kissing near the story books wasn't something i expected to see." The girl's shoulders deflate, and you immediately push Alhaitham, both of you fixing your appearances and smiling at the girl.

"about the story..." You laugh nervously, eyes glancing towards Alhaitham and he does the same.

But the girl is unimpressed, her fingers adjusting her glasses, "fifty dollars and i won't say a word." She offered blankly, and your eyes widen. Where in the hell are you supposed to get fifty from?

The girl watches you struggle to say something, and her lips almost curl smugly.

"oh you little shi—"

"I will get your fifty tomorrow morning," Alhaitham cut you off, smiling bitterly at the girl who left with a satisfied smile.

"next time we'll—"

"there won't be a next time." You quickly mutter out, also running off from embarrassment of the situation.

[froggibus]

Camping Headcanons - Batboys + Wally West

Includes: Dick Grayson x gn! reader, Jason Todd x gn! reader, Tim Drake x gn! reader, Wally West x gn! reader

Genre: fluff, mild crack

Summary: spend a weekend away from the city camping with your boyfriend

CW: batboys have peak survival skills, Wally is very Wally, lots of classic camping fun

this is part of my Summer Suntacular event, come check it out!

Dick Grayson:

prefers to camp somewhere off the grid

loves traditional camping and is not at all opposed to just…sleeping on the floor of a tent

can almost definitely set up a tent in two seconds flat—even the jumbo ones that are supposed to take two people to set up

definitely helps that he’s flexible 

if there was a medal for best at camping, he’d probably win it

it's almost annoying how on point his survival instincts are

he can spearfish and does it just to show off

can cook pretty much anything over a fire but if it were up to him he’d just eat soup, burgers & hotdogs the whole weekend

packs 12 pairs of underwear for a weekend of camping

also has insane packing skills, like he could pack 2 weeks worth of supplies in one backpack

even if its not sunny, he WILL somehow tan just from being outside

Jason Todd:

also likes camping off the grid

unlike Dick, he probably prefers sleeping in a trailer or a cabin if he can help it

It’s not that he’s against sleeping in a tent or anything 

but he’s spent so much time sleeping on the hard ground/freezing his ass off that if he can afford the extra comfort, he’ll spring for it

so much more relaxed when you’re camping—it’s almost like he’s a different person

brings about a dozen books to read for like, three days of camping

if you weren’t with him he’d probably read them all too

even if you’re staying in a place with a stove, he INSISTS on cooking stuff over the campfire

a really good campfire cook too—he’ll make you some insane salmon & the most golden toasty s'mores for dessert

dork ass loves telling you scary ghost stories with a flashlight under his chin and everything

all so that you’ll cuddle closer to him that night

lets you wear his comfy clothes and his jacket if it’s cold outside and claims he ‘doesn’t get cold’

Tim Drake:

hard to convince him to leave Gotham for the weekend (mr weight-of-the-world-on-his-shoulders)

threaten to go camping by yourself and suddenly he’ll never leave your side

only camped at fancy resorts/nice cabins before Bruce

really enjoys being off the grid and being self sustaining though

loves those “cooking in nature” tiktoks and probably wants to try them for himself

doesn’t care where he sleeps as long as it has walls—but for you, he’ll get the warmest, comfiest tent or cabin possible

is weirdly prepared for almost any situation AND knows all of your cravings before you even have them

“I really wish we had strawberry marshmallows to make smores with”

“check my green backpack”

brings lots of different card games and WILL beat you at all of them before the trip is over

bring your own secret deck of Uno and watch him have a meltdown wondering how you could possibly have so many +4s

somehow knows exactly what went down with everyone while you were away

Wally West:

he’s like a kid again (as if he ever grew up let’s be fr) 

already has muscle pains from running around so much so at the very least he’s getting the comfiest air mattress ever

but most likely he’ll want to stay in a cozy cabin way off the grid 

with him, no campsite is too far or too remote

cannot cook for shit but will grill you the best burgers and hot dogs ever 

cannot roast s’mores for shit either 

they WILL catch fire and be completely crispy 

offer him one of yours PLEASE

“nah babe, I just really like them like this” 

liar. 

loves loves LOVES campfire cuddles and uses every reason under the sun to cozy up with you

tries to tell scary stories (that he stole from Dick who stole them from Bruce) but ends up freaking both of you out

has to do at least one (1) vigorous activity every day or he’ll be bouncing off the walls all night

has a secret never ending stash of candy on him & shares them with you

packs exactly two pairs of underwear for the entire weekend & is completely unprepared 

however if you forget or need anything else it is a CRIME and he will go get it for you 

manages to stretch a three day camping trip into a week

Summer Suntacular | Masterlist | DC Masterlist

(if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! comments, likes & rbs are always greatly appreciated ^-^ !!)

[lilacs-stars]

sweet like you

pairing: bridget x fem!reader (requested) (note: reader is charming's sister) SUMMARY: you and your pink-haired best friend have your own ways of showing affection. but what will happen if you take things to the next level? GENRE: tooth-rotting fluff, friends to lovers, mutual pining CW: nothing really, reader is down bad, thoughts of loneliness and worries she's not good enough, mouth-watering descriptions of food WC: 7k

A/N: this one was heavily based off of the five love languages! I personally think that bridget shows love by gift giving and quality time (although I am willing to hear people out on this), and reader is words of affirmation and physical touch, with maybe a dash of acts of service. hope you guys enjoy, and thank you to the anon who requested this! please give me feedback and suggestions, I’d love to know your thoughts!

You fidget nervously, skittishly glancing up at the girl in front of you.

You were so afraid to do it, to maybe ruin what you two already have.

But if you don’t, you’ll be trapped in a life overshadowed by regret, yearning for a love that will forever linger in your heart like a forgotten memory just out of reach, a devotion that has taken root in you so deep you know it is impossible to abandon or ignore.

And with that thought, you gently lean in towards her soft, pink lips.

“So? How is it?”

The pink-haired girl in front of you stands with her arms hugged to her chest, hands curled in fists that sit right below her chin. She looks at you with an anticipation so potent it's practically overflowing, rocking back and forth in a way that makes you think she’ll combust at any second. Her kind eyes are stretched wide open, staring down your every move as she eagerly awaits your answer.

You take a bite into the freshly baked fruit tart in your hand, the perfectly golden crust and masterful arrangement of strawberries, blueberries, and kiwi slices on top making it look almost too good to eat.

As soon as the flavors make contact with your tongue, you practically melt away at the sweet, delicious taste that graces your tastebuds. The pastry base is like a crisp and delightfully buttery embrace that unifies all the elements, a shell that cradles the flavors with care. The fruits on top are delectable and juicy, the natural sweetness and burst of tang adding a refreshing balance to the sugary taste of the pastry, like little fireworks on your tongue.

Your favorite part, however, is the heavenly vanilla custard filling. It’s smooth and decadent, like diving into a saccharine river of vanilla that glides across your tongue. It’s as if the very essence of pure bliss itself was captured and transformed into a rich, sweet nectar. The cool, silky filling and fresh fruits are delightful in how they contrast the warm, flaky crust, all the ingredients coming together in a harmonious composition of textures and flavors.

Your eyes, which had fluttered closed in sheer ecstasy, open again to see a Bridget that is buzzing with excitement.

Your mouth, still stuffed and chewing, manages to mumble out, “It-it’s incredible," as you cover it with your spare hand—proper etiquette being second nature to you by now—trying to get out the partially coherent words.

Bridget still looks at you with a zealous sparkle in her eyes, expression unchanged and expectant, relentlessly teetering on the balls of her feet like a hummingbird rapidly flapping its wings as it hovers by a flower. Most people would have stopped at the compliment, but you, being a near-professional taste tester from the number of Bridget’s creations that you’ve tried since you met her, have a full evaluation prepared as you swallow.

“The crust is very buttery and just the right amount of crispiness, perfectly balancing out the smooth creaminess of the custard. The fruits add a bit of tartness and a fresh, juicy taste that evens out the sweetness of the rest of the pastry, that could be a bit overwhelming otherwise. As for aesthetics”—you shift around slightly from your position on the edge of her bed, the fluffy pink comforter beneath you practically swallowing you whole—“your placement is very well-done. I would recommend adding a glaze to the fruits, both to make them glossy and to enrich the taste.”

Bridget nods her head fervently, absorbing your every word like your suggestions are an indisputable truth. “I feel like the crust is a bit soggy, too,” she adds, face wrinkled in a frown as she stares at the dessert in your hand.

You look down at your half-bitten treat—its original, untouched beauty now destroyed—in a scrutinizing consideration. “Did you wait for the crust to cool down before adding the filling?” Bridget tilts her head upwards, eyes deep in thought as she looks to the ceiling. “Hmm, now that you mention it, I don’t think I did.”

"That must be the cause." You are certainly no baker yourself, but you’ve had lots of practice critiquing Bridget’s creations to the point where you are highly knowledgeable in the theory of baking. “Still, it is unbelievably delicious.” As if hearing those words for the first time, Bridget’s face lights up, her features all but radiating a brilliant glow as she beams. She clasps her hands together, crying, “Aww, thanks!”

You can’t help but laugh a little—Bridget’s limitless joy is truly contagious. At times like this, when you're staring up at her, gaze swirled with pure adoration and awe as if she's an angel that descended from the heavens in front of your eyes, you start to think just how lucky you are. For once in your life, the strings of fate finally pulled in your favor, crossing your paths with the girl clad in a bright pink dress facing you.

Fate is often cruel to you, like an unrelenting winter wind blowing in your face and biting at your skin, like nature laughing at you as you shiver in raw misery, coldness seeping deep into your bones. A cruel trickster that seems to follow you with malevolent intentions, a vicious smirk painted on its face as it sends every misfortune barreling your way.

You might have been born a royal, a princess that has an unfathomable number of gowns stacked in her closet and an equal number of suitors lined up for her hand. But you aren’t like your brother; you don’t approach groups of strangers and introduce yourself with a wink and an alluring demeanor. He is Prince Charming, after all, which causes you to often ruminate over how accurately your parents named him.

Instead of flashing a winsome smile to every guest at a ball, or every visitor invited to your house, and strike up a conversation with them, you often seek refuge in the quiet expanse of your own room. When required to make an appearance, you prefer to loiter around in the shadows or pass by unseen, like a ghost. This has made you quite the anomaly in the royal world; everyone always whispers behind covered hands and in hushed voices, spreading rumors and wildly speculating about why the princess of such a gregarious family never makes a presence of herself publicly.

And it’s the same at school. Bridget, like your brother, will approach absolutely anyone with a smile gracing her features and kind eyes crinkled in the corners, oftentimes with a home-baked treat in hand. She has countless friends, many random people she mentions or smiles at in the hallways that you’ve never even seen before. She’s never had to worry about finding a partner in class, never avoided eye contact in a crowd of people she didn’t know, never sat watching other people’s carefree conversations with the weight of being an outsider, always looking in through the glass of isolation keeping you from them. 

Which is why, to this day, in moments like these, you question whether fate has made a mistake of some sort—maybe jumbled up different karmic ties or gotten confused with names when it came time to draw people’s futures. Or, your biggest fear, is that this is all some elaborate plan, a puzzle piece in destiny’s plan to make your life as ill-fortuned as possible.

In times like this one, you peer up at Bridget and wonder, why in the world, out of her multitude of friends, did she decide to spend the most time with you? To dub you her “best friend”, if you will. 

Bridget had noticed your solitary manners a long time ago—like a magnet, she’s drawn to the people who are most in need of a friend, the most ostracized of the outcasts. And so, she had patiently sat with you every day, struck up a conversation even when you gave her the shortest answers possible that were still deemed polite, and attempted to make plans with you, although you always tried to cover up your outlandish excuses with gracious thank-yous. 

Over time, the girl with the bright eyes and unfaltering smile finally wore you down, until you began sitting next to her yourself, began looking forward to your idle conversations, and even sought to spend as much time with her as possible. In fact, you spend more time at her dorm than you do yours; neither of you have roommates, so the only time you go back to your room is to get into bed. Besides that, you spend every waking moment basking in Bridget’s cheery presence, so much so that half your belongings are scattered on her floor (your doing), or neatly tucked away in a drawer (her tidying up after you leave).

Your relationship grew to a point where you began to know Bridget well enough that you couldn't keep denying the way she seemed to know everyone, and on a rather personal basis as well. How she had a party or event she was invited to every weekend, or how she had an entire roster of people willing to help her at the smallest of notices anytime she needed a favor. Sure, she may not seem like the “popular” sort, which had definitely deceived you as well when you first met her, but she was definitely well-known and especially well-liked. 

So you found yourself many a night sitting on her bed—as you are now—looking at the stack of pretentious letters and notes, carefully placed in ostentatious envelopes with cloyingly ornate lettering, wondering what about you made Bridget seek you out. And that’s when you first thought of it. Maybe, just maybe, she didn’t actually like you.

And once that thought popped in your mind, once it was planted and dug its roots in your brain, it grew rapidly, spreading uncontrollably like a weed that was left unchecked for a bit too long. Bridget probably only talked to you in the beginning just to be nice, the intrusive, unwanted voice hissed in your mind. She didn’t really like you. And now you keep on leeching onto her, and she’s way too nice to say she finds you annoying.

Fueled by your disbelief that anyone, especially someone with as many options as Bridget, would actively want to spend their time with you, you started to believe that Bridget was only entertaining you out of required courtesy. And so, you tried spending less time with her after that, building up your walls again and shutting her out; suddenly, you didn’t approach her in the hallways anymore, were always too busy “studying” to hang out in her room, and your long rants about various, trivial topics were reduced to simple, curt responses.

But Bridget persisted, always choosing you amidst a myriad of familiar faces beckoning her over. She still wanted to make plans with you, still left you treats outside your door to taste test. And so, with a hesitant uncertainty, only brought out by your crippling fear and burning shame at the possibility of even coming close to hurting Bridget’s feelings from your cold actions, you decided that she might actually want to be with you, of her own free will. 

That night, you had thanked her for being such a good friend to you. She replied as sweetly and modestly as ever (“Oh, it’s nothing! Don’t even mention it.”). When you brought up how you wouldn’t have any friends if not for her choosing to persistently break down your walls, as you are undeniably terrible at making friends, she had simply told you that your style of befriending people was to wait for them to approach you first, whilst her style was to approach them first.

She had pointed out, with a compassionate wrinkle in her brow, that with your way, at least you could be certain that whoever cared enough about you to initiate something and work towards befriending you probably had genuine intentions, which was a drawback of becoming friends with just anyone, like she did—you never who truly likes you, and who’s plotting to stab you in the back. You kept your mouth shut that night, but you really couldn’t help but think if that were true, then did that mean that the only person with genuine intentions towards you in the entire school was Bridget herself?

Fate, you decided, is certainly an interesting character.

“Maybe I should make another batch.” Bridget’s musings draw you back to the present, where she now stands with a bitten fruit tart in her hand and two unoccupied cavities in the tray she had baked them in. “I was thinking of handing these out to my History of World Magic class tomorrow, but they aren’t very good…” She frowns again as she looks down at her pastry, as if furrowing her brow and staring intensely at it can miraculously fix it, or at least give her some insight into discerning what to improve.

“Bridget.” You push up off the bed, taking a step towards her and placing a firm hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to make another batch. These ones are already great.”

Abruptly, you swoop in towards her opposite hand, stealing a bite from her already partially eaten dessert. You chew with a smile on your face as you look at Bridget’s slightly startled expression, commenting, “See? This one is just as good as the other one.”

Bridget remains frozen for a moment, her forehead still puckered, before she relents into a soft grin. “Alright, then. If you say so. I guess they are alright.”

“That’s the spirit.” You let go of her shoulder, now leisurely strolling around the room, eyeing the various objects neatly placed on her furniture. Eyes scanning over each item, your hand subconsciously reaches out, fingertips languidly brushing along her possessions as if soaking up her essence. “About History, I’m so unprepared for that test we have coming up. Ugh, who even assigns that much work? Especially since Mr. Poirier already grades so harshly. Like, last test, he marked me down because I only gave three examples of goblin strikes in the past century out of the five he taught. I mean, you can’t mark someone down if you never said how many examples to give! He’s so unfai—”

Your voice cuts off as your eyes snag on a collection of objects on Bridget's desk that weren’t there before, an assortment of various tools and materials that when combined appear to belong to a crafting set: multicolored beads, tubes of sparkly glitter, delicate metal chains, a set of pliers, and a bright pink vial of glue.

“What are these?” you ask curiously, leaning in closer with a furrowed brow as you inspect the items on the desk, trying to make out what they are, or rather, what they are going to be made into.

“Ah! It’s nothing!” Bridget squeals, rushing over and throwing a spare blanket over the desk before you can take a closer look.

You spin around to face her, a frown etched into your features. “If it’s nothing, then why are you hiding it?”

“It’s not important!”

“You know you’re only making me want to know even more.”

“It’s really nothing! Just don’t think about it.”

You lift your hand, inching it closer to the draped cloth. “I’m thinking about it,” you tease, playfully moving your arm at a gradual, yet deliberate, pace towards the desk. “Still thinking about it. I’m getting closer, closer, closer…”

Just as your fingers are about to make contact with the blanket to pull it off, Bridget lurches forward, taking your troublesome hand in hers as she leads you away, towards the other side of the room with a nervous giggle.

“Come on!” you exclaim with a huff. “What’s so bad about what you’re doing that you don’t want to show me?”

“It’s not bad!” Bridget counters. “It’s just…look, you’ll find out what it is soon. Just give me some time, okay?”

“Hmm…” you hum, glancing upwards with faux consideration. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to wait that long.” A small, cheeky grin dances on your face as you try to conceal it with a feigned pout.

Bridget shoots you a look, a small smile finally spreading across her lips. “What were we talking about again? That’s right, History of World Magic. So, what were you saying?”

You notice the sudden—and rather forced—attempt to change the subject, but ultimately decide to brush it off. “Yeah, I was saying how Mr. Poirier is so unfair when it comes to grading! And his tests are always so hard. Like, seriously, he makes up test questions that he never even talked about during class. He just expects us to memorize the whole textbook or something.”

Bridget gives a small, rueful shrug. “Well, I guess he just wants us to learn the information well.” You shoot her a sharp look, one that screams "Seriously? You’re defending him?"

“Hey, I have an idea!" Bridget exclaims, eyes lighting up again. "How about tomorrow, after school, we go to the library and study for the test? With both our minds put together, we’re a lot less likely to miss something. After all, two heads are better than one. You aren’t busy or anything, right?”

You shake your head no, although it does pass your mind how Bridget must already know that you never have any plans besides the ones she makes with you. “‘Kay, study session tomorrow sounds good. Although we’re probably going to be there till midnight. I mean, seriously, who assigns one test on four different chapters?”

Just as you launch into yet another rant about your insensitive teacher whom you practically despise at this point, a deep, low horn sounds from somewhere out in the hallway, reverberating against the walls.

Both you and Bridget glance up at the clock on her wall, which is custom-made in the shape of a pink heart surrounded by a white rim, now with its glittery hands pointing at ten and twelve.

“How is it curfew already?” you groan, rolling your eyes. “Guess I have to head back to my room.” Many times, you’ve contemplated requesting to move in with Bridget, so you two can officially be roommates. After all, you practically are, with the way that people always knock on Bridget’s door first when asking for you (although that seldom happens, and the few rare times it has, it’s always been on a teacher’s behest). But every time you start to consider it, your mind plummets back into that dark place, the belief rooted deep into your consciousness whispering that you’d just burden Bridget with your inescapable presence and occupied space. 

“Aw, well, I’ll see you tomorrow in class! And at the library!” Bridget says as she walks you to the door, her constant smiling shining through once again.

You both bid each other goodnight, and as you walk the familiar solitary path back to your room, the absence of Bridget’s cheerful and bright energy is achingly present. It’s as if a piece of you was stripped away, torn from your very being and leaving you numb and hollow, merely a void of fleeting emotions just out of your grasp. Like the sun disappearing during an eclipse, leaving everyone shrouded in darkness as they await its return, you feel as though your very liveliness is missing from you. You glide down the hallways soundlessly like a ghost, your body nothing more than a shell of the exuberance brought out by the girl who’s constantly emanating pure, unbridled positivity.

Despite your feelings of emptiness, a soft ray of warmth settles onto your soul as memories of the evening, and every other moment you spent in Bridget’s company, replay in your mind. You still hear her melodious laugh, still see the bright sparkle in her eyes only displayed in someone who has not yet been dulled by the merciless, unsparing nature of the world.

Even though she’s not there, you still feel as though she is, carrying a piece of her deep in your heart while you reminisce over your memories, as you always do when you’re in the quiet loneliness of your own company. Even though she’s not there, your heart races at the mere thought of her: her gaze as she listens intently to what you have to say, the way her arms wrap around your torso and how her hair tickles your neck as she gives you a tight, enthusiastic hug.

Even though she’s not there, a shadow of her presence forever lingers in your heart and mind, leaving you yearning to bask in her warm glow again.

You step into the library the next day, after the final bell dismisses you from your last lesson. The library is one of your favorite places in the entire school—aside from Bridget’s room, of course. The peaceful retreat of the rows of dusty shelves and worn, rickety tables is unmatched. The tranquility of the gentle silence that always covers the area like a blanket, the smell of weathered books holding untold quantities of knowledge soothing you with the smallest whiff. Whenever you step across that threshold, it’s like being taken into a different dimension, one with fewer heavy burdens weighing down your shoulders and more blissful ease, a feeling one only reaches when in an untroubled state of mind.

No one looks at you as you walk in, not even sparing a single glance or the slightest movement that acknowledges your arrival. Not that that’s an unusual feeling for you.

You make your way down the aisles of books to your usual table, where you and Bridget always sit, standing in a secluded corner. The book bag slung over your shoulder is weighed down with all the books and notes stuffed into it, causing your arm to ache with strain. Grimacing as the hemp strap painfully digs into your shoulder, certainly leaving a mark that you’ll discover later, you mentally hurl a few obscenities at your teacher for his absurd teaching methods that make your bag so heavy.

However, as you move towards the table, you can see that there’s already some foreign object placed on top of it. A shocked, annoyed anger sizzles inside of you, vexation pumping through your veins at the thought of someone stealing your table. Sure, it doesn’t actually belong to you, and everyone has an equal right to choose any seat they desire, but it’s still your preferred spot and any other one would feel disconcerting and out of place.

As you near, now silently directing your colorful words towards the table thief, you begin to notice that no one else is around; nor do you see any materials on the table besides the peculiar item, which appears to be a small plastic container.

You approach the box, noticing that there’s a small, fuchsia-colored note stuck to the top as you get closer. Instantly, you recognize the handwriting, the half-cursive swirls and loops paired with the little hearts topping all the i’s instead of dots engraved into your brain.

“Dear Y/N,

I’m so so sooo sorry, but someone had an emergency and I had to go help them! I feel really bad for leaving you, and I promise I’ll make it up to you! 

For now, I made you some treats as an apology (and to help make studying a little more bearable). Sorry again! I hope you enjoy them! 

Love always,

Bridget

You smile at the little heart drawn next to her name, a staple of her signature. Opening the lid of the container, you see that sure enough, it’s stocked with plenty of macarons, a multitude of colors and flavors beckoning at you to try them.

You sigh as you grab a chair to sit in, the small wave of relief that washes over you soon overshadowed by the returning feeling of loneliness, rekindling inside of you like a greeting from an old friend you haven’t seen in a while. You reside in its arms with a comfort brought not by the warmth of a tender hug that soothes your pain and fills the hollow void residing in you, but instead by the ease of familiarity, the peace obtained when the outcome is a cruel one, yet one you foresaw. The security granted by basking in the solace of numbing arms wrapped around you, the feeling of being all alone and undesired, unwanted, something you’ve grown all too accustomed to.

Once again, you’re given a painful reminder of how popular Bridget is, how many other friends she has. How at the end of the day, you're simply an option, a choice she chooses to make. One that she can always change in the blink of an eye.

But you know that you can’t really be disappointed or feel so rejected because of this. After all, it's not like you can expect her to not have a life outside of you—ignoring the fact that you don’t really have a life outside of her. It would be selfish of you to want her to yourself all the time, right? 

Readjusting your chair closer to the table, you remind yourself that it’s nice enough of her to even remember your plans, much less take the time to stop by here and leave you a note explaining her absence, in addition to a sweet—both figuratively and literally—gift. She could have just forsaken you with no note, no warning. But then again, that’s simply not the type of person Bridget is. If she knew just how much her presence affects you, how she fills your days with a joy, a happiness so pure and unparalleled by everything and everyone else, you’re almost certain she’d never leave your side again.

To her, you’re just another friend, someone she enjoys seeing. To you, she’s your sun, the very being you revolve around and depend on to survive.

She truly is your everything.

The mouthwatering macarons eyeing you through the clear plastic invite you to take a bite, and you indulge yourself as you rip off the lid and relish in the soft crunch of the outer layers and the smooth flavors bursting within, reminding you of something akin to a dessert sandwich.

After munching on quite a few of them—you simply couldn’t help yourself, they were absolutely delicious—you begrudgingly heave your bag onto the table, pulling out the materials you so diligently packed.

You crack open your textbook to the first chapter, then your notebook to the first blank page. Ripping a sheet out from the spine, you place it down next to your notes. Every time you write something in your notebook, you copy it down on the empty page.

After all, you couldn’t let Bridget’s kindhearted nature get in the way of her good grades. Even if it did mean more grueling work on your part.

For her, you are willing to do anything. Just to see her beam at you again with those rosy lips, the sparkle in her eyes twinkling brightly at you. Reminding you that you’re the cause behind her happiness.

No matter the cost for you.

The sea of faces and bodies in front of you is slightly overwhelming, blurred flashes passing you as you struggle to find your way through the crowd. But then, your eyes snatch on a head of pink curls bouncing up and down animatedly, and instantly, you’re washed over with a wave of relief. Slipping through the cracks between the meandering crowd, you make your way over to the table Bridget is sitting at today in the Dining Hall.

“Hey,” you say gingerly, placing a hand on her shoulder to get her attention as you approach her from behind.

Bridget twists her head back, face visibly lighting up at the sight of you. “Y/N!” she exclaims, scooting over and excitedly patting the space next to her.

You take your seat, turning to face her. “Uh, so, about yesterday…” 

Your plan was to thank her for the macarons and the thoughtful note, but before you get the chance, her eyes widen at your words as her face erupts in a look of deep penitence. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! Fay was trying a new spell and accidentally burned half her hair off…” Her face contorts to a look of serious shock and concern, probably reimagining the scene.

“I know that’s no excuse though! I felt so bad for bailing on you, that I stayed up all last night just to finish this…”

She turns around and bends over her seat, reaching into her bag on the floor. She grabs something, then twists back around to you, clutching the mysterious object tightly in her hand.

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands!” she instructs, vibrant with pulsating enthusiasm. A bit tentatively, you do as she says, putting your cupped palm out in front of you as you shut your eyes.

You feel a small, very solid object get placed in your hands (So not a new dessert to try, you think with only the slightest tinge of disappointment). But that all dissipates as soon as Bridget exclaims, “You can open them now!”

Your eyes flutter open, gaze pointed downwards towards your palms. Immediately, a tender surge of awe floods your heart, making its pace quicken as it beats rapidly. Your heart throbs with such a profound gratitude you worry it’s going to burst any second from how touched you feel.

You pick up the chain placed in your cupped hands, an elated smile breaking through as you take in the bracelet Bridget gave you. Decorated with numerous charms, you take the time to study all of them carefully, running your fingers over the meticulous hand-crafted details as you realize the significance of each one.

They’re not random designs chosen simply for aesthetic purposes; no, each one resembles something, either about you or your relationship with Bridget. A clear-cut gemstone of your favorite color placed next to a small depiction of your favorite animal both hang off the chain. Then there’s a metallic red apple symbolizing the one time you two went apple picking at an orchard; a little set of playing cards with the same design at the deck she used when she first taught you how to play; a small face of a gray kitten with white whiskers, resembling the one you two saved from an incredibly high and strangely twisted tree the first time you visited Wonderland. 

Nevertheless, the finest of them all is the pink, glittery heart that sits right in the middle. Embellished on its surface is a fancy cursive B next to your first initial, conjoined with a small plus sign. 

An everlasting symbol of your intimate bond.

Your mouth is fully agape, eyes round as saucers and eyebrows arched in a mix of nearly tangible astonishment and disbelief as you turn the bracelet around in your hands over and over, examining each charm with a sharp, precise eye. Bridget sits in quiet anticipation, holding her breath as she awaits any kind of reaction that can give her even a glimmer of an idea as to how you feel.

“Remember when you were asking me about the stuff on my desk the other day and I said I'd show you soon?” she asks, breaking the thick silence that has grown to be unbearable for her. “Well, I was working on this as a surprise for you. And, I mean, I felt so bad for leaving you yesterday that I wanted to give it to you today as a little apology.”

Your gaze finally breaks away from the bracelet, meeting Bridget’s jittery eyes. Before she can even process what’s happening, the next thing she knows you’ve lurched forward, arms wrapping so tightly around her body that she struggles to even breathe.

After she gets over the initial wave of shock, Bridget’s wide eyes melt into a compassionate smile, returning the embrace. You hug her firmly, getting lost in the moment and not letting go until you hear a little, “I can’t breathe,” paired with a soft tap on your back, drawing you out of your daze as you realize you’re practically smothering her.

“Oh! I-I’m sorry!” you exclaim, drawing back quickly and examining her figure with knitted brows, making sure she’s alright. “I just…I love it so much! It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever given me!”

Bridget gives a bubbly laugh, eyes matching her grin as she says, “Oh, it really was nothing. I mean, you’re a princess. I’m sure you’ve gotten much nicer things.”

Smiling, you don’t mention how even the most lavish of luxuries, the most exorbitant of material goods only the finest money can buy, all pale into nonexistence when compared to her gift. The thought, the care, the hours of painstaking work and dedicated moments spent carefully crafting, all for you, is simply unfathomable and impossible to match. You may be holding a small bracelet worth not even a tenth of the simplest of rings you normally get gifted by your family, but to you, it’s worth more than every mansion and diamond in the whole world.

You shake your head left and right, tears of joy brimming and threatening to spill as you lean into Bridget for yet another hug (this time making sure not to squeeze her quite so hard). You know that later, you’ll probably lie in bed and wince at your brashness in this moment, hands covering your flustered face as you toss and turn in embarrassment—but for right now, you’re too swept up in your emotions to care.

“Oh! I almost forgot,” you exclaim, pulling away once again to reach into your bag this time. Retrieving a stack of papers neatly stapled, with lines and lines of orderly notes written in meticulous handwriting, you hand them to Bridget. “I figured since you probably wouldn’t have the time to take notes for the test, I took them for you.”

This time, it’s Bridget’s turn to be flustered from your benevolent gesture. “You really didn’t have to!” she cries, a stunned expression painted on her face as she flips through the numerous pages of detailed notes. She peers back up to meet your gaze with a swirl of shock and delight, her gently creased eyes and the lines on her forehead displaying her inner thoughts. Bridget often wears her emotions on her sleeve, and from sharing countless hours with her, you’ve learned to interpret her facial expressions so well you can practically read her mind. And through her gaze, you can see how she’s in disbelief at the thought that, despite your hatred for the subject and assignment—which you made very well-known—you still spent twice the time you had to on it, just for her.

“Well, I guess we’re even now,” you casually add, saving Bridget from having to formulate a response—you can clearly tell she’s having difficulty putting her emotions into words.

She shakes her head ardently from side to side, her springy curls bouncing vibrantly. “No, we still lost the time we were supposed to spend together! And I did promise I’d make it up to you.”

Before you can open your mouth to tell her that she’d made it up plenty, her head swivels to the side. You follow her gaze to a wide window a few meters away, the bright rays of sun poking out through the clouds and casting golden stripes on the table in front of you. 

Her head snaps back towards you, the light in her eyes burning bright as she enthusiastically suggests, “I heard the weather is really nice this weekend! How about we go on a picnic?”

“A picnic?” you repeat inquisitively. You don’t know what you were expecting, but this certainly surprised you. 

“Yeah!” Bridget’s talking quickens, the glimmer in her eyes shining brighter as she continues while the vague idea solidifies in her mind. “It’ll be a lot more fun than another study session. I can make the food and you can bring the stuff! The fields just south of here are a popular spot. It’s going to be so much fun!” 

She squeals as she claps her hands together. You match her smile, her enthusiasm once again infecting you. “Picnic it is, then,” you reply, grinning as she beams at your approval. 

A subtle sigh slips past your lips, unnoticed by Bridget. The same way you always wish she didn’t miss how you look at her, pure adoration and devotion mirrored in your gaze, staring at her as if she created the skies and stars with her own two hands. Which she really did—at least in your universe. 

A soft breeze blows against your face, tenderly caressing your cheeks as leaves rustle overhead, whispering to the wind of secrets unheard. The sky is a clear, vibrant blue, all but a few clouds lazily drifting by. Sunshine filters through the branches, casting dappled patterns of light over the checkered blanket beneath you. Birds somewhere in the treetops chatter and sing their pleasing songs, weaving a tapestry of notes that paint the horizon with harmonious brushstrokes. The grass sways gently, mirroring the serene breathing of the landscape.

Everything is tranquil, from the fluttering of butterfly wings to the laughter that sounds from pink lips, like the most melodious of music to your ears. The conversation isn’t that important to you; trivial, inconsequential topics that you really couldn’t care less for. But what truly matters is the way her eyes fill with the purest of sparkles, the way she doubles over as she giggles, the breeze brushing her captivatingly gorgeous curls out of her face.

There’s nothing in the world you would trade for this moment, this sliver in time where you are completely at peace. Where not a single care or worry can reach you, not when the only thing on your mind is how much your heart swells with pure affection, how simply perfect the girl in front of you is.

After she manages to catch her breath from laughing, Bridget meets your gaze—one that is directed at her, but isn’t really looking at her. Your eyes are distant, the unwavering smile on your speaking volumes of emotions.

“Those sandwiches were really good, weren’t they?” she asks you, referring to the special-made lunch that you two had just finished.

You nod, still grinning at her with a persistent gaze. “They were great, Bridget. Nothing that you make could ever taste anything less than delicious.”

She blushes, swatting at your arm playfully. “Hey, that’s not true!”

You laugh, sitting up from how you were previously lying on your back. Catching Bridget’s hand in midair, you reply, “Well, it is, because I don’t lie.”

“Oh? Since when?” she asks, mirth dancing on her features.

“Since always.” You feign annoyance at her accusations, your smile still shining through.

“Ah! Speaking of food, I have something special for you.”

You hum in surprise, watching as Bridget reaches over to your woven picnic basket. She shuffles closer to you, to the point where her knees almost brush against your thigh, with how she’s sitting cross-legged and you with your legs outstretched whilst leaning on one arm.

Opening the lid, her hand disappears inside for a moment before reemerging with a singular cupcake, topped with a swirly pastel pink frosting and decorated with small sprinkles in shades of white and red. 

“This is a new recipe,” she explains, holding the treat out to you. “I made it with this super rare flower essence, shipped straight from Wonderland. Let’s just say I gave the batter a lick, and I think it’s my best creation yet.”

“You haven’t tried it yet?” you ask, moving to sit in a position similar to Bridget’s as you accept the dessert. 

“Nope! I wanted you to have the first bite.”

Your smile only grows wider, now stretching from ear to ear, an undeniable sense of glee emanating from you. You’d normally argue with her, telling her that she really didn’t need to do something like this. But from all those failed attempts you’ve only learned that Bridget never listens, always putting you first time and time again. So, this time, you simply take a bite, nearly melting away again as the flavors hit.

The frosting has a sugary, saccharine taste, the sprinkles adding a delightfully contrasting texture to the creamy richness of the pink swirl. The cake below it is soft and moist, as if eating a fluffy cloud. The vanilla flavor is smooth, an undercurrent that balances out the sweetness. There’s a slight twinge from a distinct flavor as well, something you’ve never tasted and can’t quite put your finger on. The same way that coffee elevates the taste of chocolate, this special ingredient brings out the sweetness of the vanilla, balancing out the sugar of the frosting. Every mouthful is incredibly light and absolutely delectable, making each moment it graces your taste buds feel like an indulgent bite of heaven.

“So? How is it?” Bridget asks as your eyes swiftly open. Her anticipation lingers in the air, along with your awaited response.

But you barely hear her words, too focused on how the color of the frosting perfectly matches her delicate, roseate lips. They’re so gentle, yet lush, almost forming the most endearing of pouts.

Eyes darting from her eyes, to her lips, back up to her wide, doe eyes again, you throw caution to the wind and spring forward. Your hands move in front of you, supporting your weight as you lean in.

Your lips make contact with her velvety ones, which are even smoother than you imagined. A stolen kiss, lasting but a moment, yet enwrapped by the tender caress of your mouth, the purest of affections seeping in as you hold her lips between yours, then draw back for the briefest pause.

Eyes locked with her wide, expressive ones as you linger a mere inch away from her face, you respond to her earlier question.

“Delicious and incredibly sweet. Just like you.”

end x

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[gluttenousgoddess]

**Full of Love**

You’re sprawled comfortably on the couch, your favorite blanket draped over your legs. The TV hums softly in the background, but your focus is on the snacks scattered across the coffee table in front of you. Your large, heavy belly rests out in the open, free from the constraints of your clothes. It feels good to relax like this, letting your belly spread and settle against your lap, feeling its warmth and softness. You pop another chip into your mouth, savoring the salty crunch as you absentmindedly rub your belly with one hand. The gentle motion is soothing, and you can’t help but smile at the sensation of fullness that’s already starting to build.

Just then, you hear the familiar jingle of keys at the door, and your heart skips a beat. Your partner is home. You turn your head and watch as they walk in, arms laden with bags from your favorite takeout places. The smell of fried foods and sweet treats fills the room, making your mouth water. They catch your eye and grin, their face lighting up with that playful, adoring look that makes your heart flutter.

“Looks like someone’s been having a nice, lazy day,” they tease gently, glancing at the empty snack bags around you.

You chuckle, patting your belly. “Just a little snack before you got home,” you say with a wink.

“Well, I’ve got a lot more here for you,” they reply, setting the bags down on the coffee table. “I hope you’re hungry.”

You nod eagerly, your belly rumbling softly in anticipation. Your partner settles beside you on the couch, close enough that you can feel the warmth of their body against yours. They begin to unpack the bags, revealing an assortment of your favorite foods: greasy cheeseburgers, crispy fries, sugary pastries, and more. The sight alone makes your stomach growl louder.

Without a word, they pick up a burger and hold it up to your lips. You open your mouth, letting them feed you the first bite. The flavors burst across your tongue, savory and delicious. As you chew, they reach out with their free hand and gently caress your belly. Their touch is soft and warm, sending shivers of pleasure through your skin. You swallow and take another bite, leaning back into the cushions, feeling completely at ease.

Bite after bite, they feed you, their fingers brushing against your lips, their other hand never leaving your growing belly. You can feel it expanding with each mouthful, pressing heavier against your lap, stretching your skin tight. The sensation of fullness builds slowly, a pleasant, comforting weight that anchors you to the couch. Your partner’s hand moves in slow, lazy circles, rubbing and massaging, making you feel warm and loved.

As you finish one burger and move on to the fries, you find yourself leaning into their touch more, craving that soothing contact as much as the food itself. Your partner notices and smiles, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your cheek.

“You’re doing so well,” they murmur, their voice low and affectionate. “Just relax and let me take care of you.”

You nod, too content to speak, closing your eyes as you chew. They continue to feed you, alternating between bites of food and gentle sips of a creamy milkshake. The feeling of fullness becomes more intense, your belly rounding out, heavy and taut. Your breathing deepens as the weight of it presses against your lungs, making you feel deliciously stuffed.

Eventually, the bags are empty, and you’ve eaten everything. You let out a satisfied sigh, feeling more full than you ever have before. Your belly is massive, resting heavily against your thighs, so tight and round that you can hardly believe it’s yours. Your partner’s hand never stops its gentle caress, soothing and comforting as you bask in the sensation of being so completely full.

“You’re amazing,” they whisper, leaning in to kiss you softly. “Look how big and beautiful you are.”

You smile, feeling a flush of warmth spread through your cheeks. You try to move, but your belly is so heavy that you can’t manage more than a wiggle. Your partner chuckles and pulls you closer, wrapping their arms around you, careful not to press too hard against your overstuffed stomach.

“Don’t worry,” they say, their voice soft and loving. “I’ll take care of everything. You just relax and enjoy how full you are.”

You sigh, letting yourself sink into their embrace, feeling completely safe and content. With their hands still rubbing your belly, you close your eyes, a smile on your lips, and drift off into a blissful, food-induced nap.

[shantechni]

Don't talk to me about wasted potential in the '12 series until you've seen how Tiger Claw was kicked into a ditch and pierced with a dagger.

This man came all the way from Japan and swore his loyalty to Shredder instead of remaining solo (something he's shown to be evidently great at throughout the series). There isn't a single fight involving him where only one of the turtles were able to take him down, and he easily overpowered pre-mutation Karai without needing to lift a finger.

He had his own set of morals and values, namely his acknowledgement of kids being involved in the fight and making them recognize the consequences of dealing with him. He was ruthless in an admirable way that didn't reflect the twisted selfishness of his boss, and it was so satisfying to see such an interesting and strong character develop suspicions towards Shredder despite starting off on his side. The chances of him completely becoming a good guy were slim to none, but anti-heroes are a thing, and people love them when done right.

So why tf was Tiger Claw still trailing behind Shredder after everything that happened🧐

Maybe he felt bad for the crispy man getting kicked into submission idk

He most certainly saw Shredder attempt to off Splinter and subsequently send the Earth into its early grave, and even if he hadn't seen that happen, he's been calling Shredder's actions into question long before S4, so what gives? Xever got his chance to throw up a peace sign and get out of dodge, why and how did Tiger Claw turn into the leader of a cult that worships Shredder's very being?? Then he eventually just gives up with little to no warning and makes a promise of peace once everything was over with???

[jsprnt]

still being somewhat friends with your ex brings up some jealousy in your relationship

kenan yıldız x reader

A/N: jealous kenan🤌🤌!!! based on this request.

W/C: 1.440

"this one looks better on your feed.." you tell your best friend, scrolling through the pictures you just took of her.

"I know. what would I do without a bestie like you.." she coos, wrapping her arms around your body.

"you'd be stuck with your boyfriend who takes ugly photos.." you chuckle, hugging her back.

"travis can't take pictures for shit. at least kenan takes good pictures of you.." she says, sitting up and fixing her hair.

"I got very lucky.." you beam, grateful for your boyfriend's artistic skills.

"he needs to give travis some tips when he gets here.."

"when does he arrive?" she asks, playing with the frills of your jeans.

"he said he'd be here in ten.." you answer, looking around the house.

your big friend group decided to organize a get together after not being able to meet for a long time. everyone was encouraged to bring their partners, so you didn't hesitate to ask kenan if he would join you.

your boyfriend was an incredibly busy guy, especially with the serie a games starting in a couple days.

but of course, he'd always make time for you.

"hey, y/n can you pass me the chips?"

you look up when you hear a familiar voice, making eye contact with adam.

he was one of your friends, and unfortunately, also your ex.

you didn't even know if you could classify him as an ex, since your relationship lasted a mere month or two, and when both you realized it wasn't going to work out, it ended.

no hard feelings.

well, you could only speak for yourself..

"you want the guac too?" you ask, sitting up to grab the bowl of chips in front of you.

"nah, I like 'em plain.."

you frown at his answer, he must've turned into a crazy person since you broke up, because who enjoys eating plain chips without a dip?

"oh, here.." you slide the bowl over, leaning back into the couch.

you look at your best friend, her face incredibly still. you know, that if you make eye contact with her, you'd both burst out in laughter.

"thanks, y/n.."

you give him a small smile, watching him shove the crispy nachos into his mouth.

"so, where's your boyfriend at?" he mumbles, his mouth unaesthetically full.

"he's coming over in a couple minutes. he's a busy person, you know." you explain, scratching the back of your hand.

you look to your right, silently asking your best friend to break the tension, or save you from the conversation..

"adam, where's your partner? I didn't see you walk in with anyone.."

"yeah, I thought you were dating halle from your finance class?" you question, trying to steer the topic away from your own personal life.

"didn't work out- again.." he sighs, looking directly into your eyes.

you press your lips into a line, shivering, you look at your equally nosy best friend.

"well, it'll work for out for you too eventually. like how I'm with kenan now.."

you try to reassure him, confused when adam suddenly sits up, fixing his posture. his hands move down, and he starts wiping his oily fingers on his jeans.

why did men do nasty things like that?

"what's going to work out eventually?" 

you gasp at the familiar voice, turning around to see kenan behind you.

"you're here.." you beam excitedly, feeling his loving touch from behind. his arm wrapping around your shoulders, as he presses a kiss behind your ear.

"of course I’m here.." he mutters, pulling back when you stand up from the couch to walk around it.

"thank you for coming.." you hug kenan, his strong arms wrapping around you, a little tighter than usual.

"a promise, is a promise.." he mumbles into your ear, kissing your temple. you can feel the soft fabric of his hoodie brush against your cheek. the scent of his musky cologne entering your nose, calming you with its familiar smell.

you hum, feeling his hands trail down your back, a hand touching your lower back.

kenan loved showing his love through touch, but he'd never been a 'pda' person. he always chose to hold your hand or hug you outside the four walls of your shared apartment, so the sudden intimate touches were confusing to you.

not that you would mind, you were in private company, so you'd savor everyone of his touches anyway.

"hello, good to see you.." he tells your best friend, giving her a smile before averting his gaze to adam.

"nice to see you, man.." adam speaks when he notices the look, immediately standing up and walking over.

while you watch your ex walk towards you, you can feel kenan's grip tighten around you. nothing painful, of course, even when not aware, he'd never do anything to hurt you.

he absolutely cherished every second you spent together. whether it was a quick lunch date in between his training sessions, and your university classes or just spending his daily life with you.

never letting you get too cold or too hot. bringing a drink from your favorite café, while you were already sipping on your crappy, watered down, homemade iced coffee. tying your shoelaces without you even realizing they came undone.

at this point, you could request for the urban dictionary to make 'kenan' a synonym for 'gentleman'.

you look up when kenan doesn't greet adam like he usually greets your other friends.

you weren't naive enough to not know why. your boyfriend had long known adam and you had dated briefly, since you didn't feel like it was morally right not to inform him..

of course, kenan had not doubted your loyalty to him. he trusted you, as much as you trusted him.

you couldn't lie and say you were completely fine with still being friends with adam. you'd shared intimate moments together, and going back to that platonic relationship wasn’t something you were 100% comfortable with.

"you arrived pretty late. I guess being a baller is keeping you away from our dear y/n.."

you watch kenan's jaw clench, his jawline getting even sharper as you feel his fingers trace your back.

"I made time, like I'd expect a boyfriend to do.." your boyfriend retorts, his voice steady and firm.

"I would be crazy to lose a person like her.."

your eyes flicker back up at kenan, knowing that jab was obviously about adam and you breaking it off.

"ken.." you call out, patting his chest to get his attention. 

"what is it, baby?" you almost laugh at the voice change. It switches from a rough, deep one to the most honey-soaked tone ever.

"please don't start anything, come on. let's go get some snacks, ‘kay?" you ask, smiling to convince him.

you watch your best friend get pulled away by her boyfriend, it giving you the perfect opportunity to dip.

"okay, that's fine.." your boyfriend agrees, squeezing your hips one more time, before he releases the tension in his jaw. turning around and pulling you away from the frazzled adam.

"jealous boy.." you tease him when he pulls you into a corner, poking his cheek. where his dimples would dent when he’d smile or pull a face.

"I'm not jealous.." he dismisses, reaching up to remove a fallen eyelash from your cheek.

"should I go back and bring adam? ask if he wants a drink?"

"come on. I can have an opinion.."

"that is?" you question, grabbing and popping a grape into your mouth.

"I don't trust the guy for a second, like- what guy befriends his ex?"

"if the ex is as nice as me, I would.." you tease.

"what if I were friend with my ex?" he questions, using elaborate hand movements.

"I would- wait, but this is different, ken. I can't cut him off easily since he's a part of the friend group. it's already kind of awkward between us.."

"awkward? thank goodness.."

you roll your eyes at his happiness, shoving a cracker into his mouth.

"shush, just eat it this, and stop talking.."

"no sharing chips with him, no more.." he hums, chewing on the crunchy snack.

"you saw that?"

"obviously, your friends kept me at the door until I took pictures with them.."

"oh.."

"can we hook him and his ex back up together?"

you scoff, raising a brow. 

"what did I say?"

"stop talking.." he grins, his dimples showing as he looks at you. his brown eyes lighting up in amusement.

"never mind, just give me a kiss.." you say, looking up when he eagerly cups your jaw.

"don't even worry about it .."

[trevvylovesspence]

Late Night Talking

Content: Your poor boyfriend Reid just has to talk about how he feels. Reverse comfort! He's such a sweetheart :(

Working with the B.A.U. really was a tole taking job. Even more so when you got told you were a room down at the hotel. "You can room with me if you want." It was Reid's quiet voice next to you, "I don't feel much like sleeping so you can have the bed." He gave you that tired smile, the small one that had you knowing that he really didn't feel like sleeping.

Even after you'd both settled in the room and sat comfortably on the bed you could tell he wouldn't sleep so you laid down first. "Lay down." you mumbled and he did so, albeit awkwardly but he laid beside you. "Do you think I'm strange?" it was quiet, an almost unnoticeable whisper. "Strange? Why would I think that?" You could see from your peripherals that Reid was messing with his hands, anxiously thinking. "Talk to me, Spence."

At that he was quiet for a moment. "I just know I'm odd. I use words like betwixt and I know what ballads are. I seem to talk too much and never notice that people don't like what I'm talking about. My favorite shows are nerdy and I always explain them to people who don't care. I go on and on about things the team finds creepy or weird. Derek says I'll never get a date if I keep being this way and I'm starting to see his point, I'm lacking in the boyfriend department and I can't even make friends. You know, the team tells me their secrets and I think it's because they know I have no one else to tell. Did you know J.J. collects butterflies? Or that Derek secretly likes The Smiths? Or that Hotch is fond of chocolate flavored sweets? Emily likes deathmetal. Penelope's favorite television program is Vampire Diaries."

Reid turned to you as he spoke, looking at you as if he might cry. He felt so estranged compared to everyone else, you seemed to be the only one who listened. You didn't even talk when he was done, letting him continue. "I just know all this stuff about everyone, and I feel like no one knows me." You nodded softly and finally talked after a beat of silence. "Chocolate frosted donuts with rainbow sprinkles." Reid was instantly confused by this, raising a brow. "Excuse me?" '

You chuckled, "Your favorite donut. Emily told me." A small smile graced his lips at this. "And Derek said you really like chicken tandoori." His smile only seemed to widen. "And you put three whole tablespoons of sugar in your coffee according to J.J." You seemed like you weren't going to stop anytime soon and he looked so contented he didn't want you to. "And Hotch says you like pretzels and rice crispy treats. Pen says you grew up with horses and that you adore Halloween and all its traditions. Gideon told me you loved classical music and chess, he even saw you play piano once. And you're never lacking in the boyfriend department because you've been nothing but perfect. You're the sweetest man alive and I wish you'd ramble to me every second of the day because your voice is lovely."

He seemed about ready to cry as he moved his hand to touch your cheek. "You're too good to me," he whispered, kissing your forehead, "Thank you. I feel much better sweetheart." You give him a small smile and a kiss. "That's good, now let's get some sleep you look exhausted."

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Steve is pretty good at dealing with pain. Burns, scrapes, bites, bruises, he will just grit his teeth and get through it. It's almost like the more it hurts, the less he has to think about everything. But when he starts losing his hearing, there's no pain, nothing to shield him from his thoughts.

He's terrified. He already feels isolated, singled out in their small group, and of course he's concerned about not being able to respond, to live his life as he knew it, but what eventually breaks him is the smallest thing, the most insignificant, mundane thing.

He and Robin are sorting books in the Family Video and they have this unspoken ritual - whenever there is a theme song in the movie they're watching, Robin will hum it for the rest of the day, with exaggerated movements, directing the orchestra and everything. And Steve watches her one day and realizes - he will lose this. He will never hear Robin's voice again, her slightly husky and over the top renditions of whatever unlucky movie happens to play. He can't help it, his breathing becomes heavy and shaky and before he knows it, Robin is embracing him and he's trying to explain how scared he is, how he feels like his life is basically over, how he'll miss her silliness and they won't be able to talk on the phone when she leaves for college, he can't ever hear her hum anymore...

After an emotional evening and a pizza night with their favorite sitcom - with subtitles! - on, they go to work again, but Robin excuses herself for a bit, runs into the nearby store. When she comes back, she has a large sketchbook in her hand and a black marker. She starts scribbling along to the very faded melody that Steve is registering from the TV and when she hands her final work to him, he laughs and maybe cries a little. Maybe more than little.

What Robin drew for him looks like a mountain range. She created an axis for time and an axis for the "MUSICAL DRRRRAMA", indicating how intense the music is in each moment. And all of the intensity is annotated, not a single soud described, but rather how Steve and Robin still see their world, in all its silliness. "This part is mega sharp, reminds me of wanting to stab Tommy Hagan with a knitting needle", it says next to one peak. "Remember that really soggy and stale cookie we ate at your place because we were hungry? That's what it feels like" and "it's sooooo looooong and boooooring it's like Mrs. Click's class" and "the violin here is crispy. SPICY. Like the Chinese food we had last Thursday, it kind of never wants to stop burning".

It's then that Steve knows that he will be okay. There won't be phone calls, but there will be letters, so many letters with silly descriptions and drawings, nagging to practice his ASL and visits to check if he really did his homework. Robin will be better than him at it, of course she will, but even when they'll both be able to sign fluently, she will still hand him a new melody scribble now and then.

On Steve's first birthday without sound, she gives him a huge binder labelled "For my only schmuck: Steve's album". In it are tens of scribbles, all of the melodies they hummed together in the Family Video with fresh descriptions and inside jokes. And when she stands in front of all their friends, hands raised up like a conductor and under her guidance, the whole group signs "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, STEVE", he realizes that sounds might have been overrated, because there were no words to describe this kind of love.

[vaspider]

Okay y'all, I have to tell you that I was super skeptical of Antoni-From-Queer-Eye (little-known fact, Netflix makes them legally change their names)'s new show, Easy-Bake Battle.

But like... it's charming, actually? Antoni has such a genuine energy and it's extremely effective. Everyone is really kind and the guest judges are charming. There's a holiday episode where one of the contestants makes an Eid dessert! Someone makes an everything bagel waffle?

And all of y'all that are always on here on Tumblr eagerly interacting with posts where us old folx tell you how to make food or make things easier on yourself will love this damn show. Part of what contestants are judged on is how easy/simple the recipe is and how many neat shortcuts/cost-cutting tips and tricks they can incorporate into their dishes. You will see things like:

How to cook frozen broccoli so you can't tell it was frozen

How to cook shrimp if you only have access to a coffee pot (no, really)

How to poach an egg in the microwave and why acid matters when you do

How to get crispy skin on salmon when baking it

How to do things like 'use a metal hair pick to get evenly-spaced slices of cucumber'

How to plan ahead so you can reuse today's leftovers for tomorrow's dinner

A lot of baking/cooking shows are either "you can't do this and it's fun to have catastrophe when you try" (Nailed It! & all its many-language spinoffs) or "you can't do this but it's neat to watch the people who can" (literally every other show including GBBO) - they're all aspiration. This show is aspirational in an extremely achievable way, and it is that way on purpose and with intention. I am obsessed with it, because I really love cooking for people and I love when people learn how easy it is to make quality food that tastes good. It is a skill and you can learn it, and once you do, it's a fun game. I literally lay in bed while I'm drifting off to sleep and daydream about flavor combinations. (I'm gonna do dates and goat cheese and walnuts and basalmic vinaigrette - sweet, fat, salt/savory, acid - on butter lettuce for dinner tomorrow. Been thinking about it all night. I got a big bag of dates to use for my 3-day brisket and I gotta use some of them up, I can't use this huge bag on the brisket.)

Literally everything on this show is something you could make. And you should try! Go watch it, and like... try to make something from it, and then come tell me about your successes. I love hearing about when people enjoy cooking.