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#what baking can queue
etheries1015 · 3 months
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Lilia x reader - A sneaky intruder and the unfortunate bathroom incident.
General warnings: Gender neutral reader, suggestive, minors pls dni
Lilia was notorious for finding his way inside of your dorm for a wide variety of interesting (and poorly explained) reasons. Ranging from sheer boredom (at least he was honest) to "needing more space" in the kitchen for cooking his interesting concoctions, it was practically a given for you to always expect him to come by and possibly find him inside your dorm one way or another.
It's not always fun and rainbows, though. With invasion of property can also sometimes bring an invasion of privacy....on accident, of course. Lilia never truly intends to cause you any form of distress.
On one of his routine visits to Ramshackle, letting himself in (you could have sworn the door was locked) he stumbled upon...singing. The sound of a shower rang through the horribly old pipes of the dorm, your singing bouncing off the walls and filling the rooms with the sound of your (good or bad?) musical display. With a smile of mischief, Lilia decided to enjoy the show. It doesn't particularly matter if you were good at singing or not, he continued to listen on with a smile on his face as he sat in front of the door to bask in your serenade.
It wasn't long until the water turned off, but as fast as you turned the water off, you were already out the door with a towel covering your body and Lilia welcoming you. He opened his mouth to greet you and compliment the show you put on for him, however, he did not expect you to beat him by screaming in surprise and falling backward before thumping to the ground, and unfortunately, the towel followed suit, revealing yourself for a mere second before you scrambled at lightening pace to cover yourself up again.
It was too late. He saw everything.
Queue the moment where you were back on your feet covered by your towel, Lilia on his knees and looking downwards as you scolded him. He wasn't used to being on the receiving end of a lecture, it was an...interesting twist of events.
"I don't mind you coming into the dorm to do things, but this?! What in your right mind did you THINK was going to happen you dumbass?! I was obviously showering!"
"But your singing captivated me-" He tried to justify, but you were quick to cut him off.
"I do not care!" You cried out with a face of red, "Lilia Vanrouge, you are banned from Ramshackle!!"
.....
Yet there you were, pouting with your hair still wet and baggy clothes on, chin resting on your hand that was propped up against the counter as you gazed in annoyance at the fae who
"You think you can buy my forgiveness with half baked cookies and an apology?" You muttered, staring at the plate of slightly misshapen and charred cookies that Lilia had presented to you. Lilia looked at you with his smile only widening. You looked at him...he looked at you...you looked at him... then down at the cookies. They looked edible, at the very least. He said silver helped, so surely they were not bad.
"Well, you're right. your ban is lifted." You took a bite of the cookie and walked away, Lilia bouncing up in joy and floating over to you with a sparkle of mischief in his eyes.
"Oh, wonderful!! Now, will you be so kind as to serenade me once again? I bragged to Silver all about your singing- oh and let us talk about your physique! truly a work of art. I saw that cute beauty mark on your-"
"Lilia."
"yes, my little bat?"
"Shut up."
612 notes · View notes
myysaints · 7 months
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sugardaddy fernando alonso with a controversial age gap 👀🥲
°˖ ⊹ ꒰ FA14 ꒱ PAPER RINGS ─ FERNANDO ALONSO
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FERNANDO ALONSO x f!sugar baby!reader
⌗︙・ summary — you and fernando soft launch your relationship
genre — fluff, socmed au, fc: bbyambi on ig
notes — hi guysss sorry for being mia! i'm back and have a ton of fics in queue, so get ready :) i had a ton of fun writing this, just some lighthearted fluff of nando showing off his girl. hope you enjoy! apologies for the google translated spanish, i tried my best :,)
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www.instagram.com
fernandoalo_oficial
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Liked by lance_stroll, aussiegrit, yourusername, and 1,239,447 others
fernandoalo_oficial   Thanks to boss for the great night. #BeYourOwnBOSS
view all 92,410 comments
aussiegrit   Looking sharp!
Liked by fernandoalo_oficial
user1   SOFT LAUNCH HELLOOOOO?????
user2   someone cooked here….
user3   the fact that his girl probably had to teach him how to soft launch 😭😭
user4   omfg youre so right… and she looks so young too he probably had no idea what soft launching even means 💀
user5   idk is anyone else kinda weirded out like… shes so young
user6   Bffr you can barely see her face and even then they’re two consenting adults
yourusername   oh la la! fancy 🥂
Liked by fernandoalo_oficial
yourusername
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Liked by chloestroll, and 41,201 others
yourusername   Date night
view all 2,419 comments
chloestroll   gorgeous girl
yourusername   all you mama
user1   angellll omfg
user2   why is everyone and their mother soft launching ????
user3   bf reveal WHEN
user4   lol wouldn’t it be funny if her man was fernando
user5   lmfao how did you even get to that conclusion user4   i mean fernando soft launched his gf yesterday user6   lol why do i see it.. and the girl in his pic is wearing a similar dress to y/n…. user7   yall r insane jajaja
yourusername added to their story!
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fernandoalo_oficial
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Liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, aussiegrit, and 1,902,335 others
fernandoalo_oficial   “Dump”.
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yourusername   🐈
fernandoalo_oficial   🐱 user1   so they flirting in the comments now huh….
user2   ENOUGH WITH THE SOFT LAUNCHING !!!! TELL US HER NAME
user3   it’s yourusername for sure user4   yeah lol check her highlights she posted the same exact flowers two days ago
user5   i just cant get over the age gap shes too young for him
user6   how do u guys even know her age??? user7   i mean she looks pretty obviously young or younger than him lmfao
user8   DID YALL SEE THE NEW ARTICLE ABOUT Y/N…
user9   WHAT ARTICLE
www.myysaints.com
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www.twitter.com
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www.instagram.com
fernandoalo_oficial added to their story!
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(Enjoy yourself, my queen)
yourusername
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Liked by fernandoalo_oficial, chloestroll, and 189,229 others
yourusername   yeah he loves spoiling me, so what?
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chloestroll   Girls outing when??? 🥺
yourusername   i’ll text u !!!
user1   WHO ELSE CAME HERE AFTER FERNANDOS STORY
user2   literally the way i RAN to the comments omfg
user3   PERIOD tell the haters girl
user4   pretty rich and has a hot bf…. shes living the dream life fr 😭
user5   more like her bf is rich 💀 shes such a gold digger lmfao user6   literally like all this proves is that shes with him for the money user7   yall stay pressed lmfao talk about fan behaviour user8   Fr like who cares 😐 Clearly Fernando is ok with her spending his money
yourusername
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Liked by fernandoalo_oficial, francisca.cgomes, chloestroll, and 201,948 others
yourusername   finally at the age where i can properly have a midlife crisis #happy25
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fernandoalo_oficial   Happy birthday mi princessa, you deserve all the flowers and gifts in the world. Te amo.
yourusername   love you forever, always yours xx
francisca.cgomes   Did Fernando bake the cake?
yourusername   it was a joint effort, i tried to salvage it with the frosting 😭
chloestroll   noooo I thought your birthday wasn’t for another week! I haven’t got your present yet….
yourusername   it is next week chlo!! me and fernando just celebrated early since he’s got back to back races on my birthday week :( chloestroll   Oh thank god… That I didn’t get it mixed up i mean! But it’s okay we’ll spend your birthday together gorgeous!! yourusername   😽😽 fernandoalo_oficial   Hey watch it chloestroll 😠
user1   nando really showing his age with those emojis huh 😭
user2   SHES ONLY 25?????? wtf do they even have in common…
user3   no literally like what the fuck do they even talk about when theyre together user4   you guys make it sound like hes an actual fossil bruh they can have regular ass convos together you know 💀💀            Liked by yourusername
user5   ngl the age gap is kinda icky but theyre growing on me istg 😭😭
user6   fr nando better WIFE HER UP !!!! 🗣🗣🗣
yourusername added to their story!
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yourusername
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Liked by fernandoalo_oficial, chloestroll, landonorris, and 301,419 others
yourusername   reunited!
view all 124,501 comments
fernandoalo_oficial   🍝🍝
Liked by yourusername
fernandoalo_oficial   mi princessa
yourusername   thank you papi ;)
user1   theyre being sickeningly cute in the comments ohmygod
user2   what a great night to take a bath with my toaster!!!
user3   if you look closely you can see me ramming my head into the wall….
user4   THE IT COUPLE !!!!!
fernandoalo_oficial
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Liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, aussiegrit, and 991,303 others
fernandoalo_oficial   My lucky charm 🍝🍀
view all 781,420 comments
fernandoalo_oficial   🍀 = Basil 😂😂
yourusername   you’re such a dinosaur omfg fernandoalo_oficial   🦖
user1   Mom come pick me up…. They’re flirting in the comments again….
user2   theyre so cute it makes me actually sick to my stomach
user3   Love how everyone switched up on them 💀 anyways i been a supporter since day 1!!!
user4   she posted that tweet and shut the haters up fr!!!
www.twitter.com
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yourusername
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Liked by fernandoalo_oficial, chloestroll, aussiegrit, and 814,985 others
yourusername   i like shiny things but i’d marry you with paper rings 💍  it’s you and me together forever my love, thank you for the best birthday ever!
view all 291,679 comments
aussigrit   Congrats you two!
Liked by yourusername
chloestroll   So excited to be your bridesmaid 🥹 Sending all my love to you and Nando!
yourusername   thank uuu chlo!
lewishamilton   🎉🎉
yourusername   thanks lewis! we gonna see roscoe at the wedding? roscoelovescoco   You betcha 🐶
user1   SO SHE WAS TROLLING US THE WHOLE TIME
user2   the way my heart actually stopped working for a moment when she tweeted that… girl u are SICK
Liked by yourusername
user3   PARENTS !!!! PA 👏 RENTS 👏
fernandoalo_oficial   Forever my girl ❤️
yourusername   forever yours ❤️
1K notes · View notes
thelightsandtheroses · 5 months
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1: bad idea, right?
Let's Get Lost | Frankie Morales x female reader
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Series | Next
You probably shouldn’t think it, but Frankie looks good sober. He looks even better on vacation.
It’s not fair really.
You’re standing in baggage collection,  wishing your ex-boyfriend was the type to wear socks with sandals or stupid t-shirts and loud printed shirts. Crocs, even.
Instead, he’s right here next to you, looking so calm and relaxed with your daughter in his arms, letting her play with the brim of his baseball cap and no, no this is all wrong. You’re meant to be the one dazzling your ex with insouciant style and a glow up, not him.
Sobriety’s changed Frankie though. As he looks over at you now, you’re met with memories of the man you met so many years ago, the man you fell in love with.
Once upon a time you thought you would marry Frankie Morales.
In another world, maybe you did. Maybe in one universe, the two of you are heading to Hawaii for your wedding, not Benny and Lia’s. Maybe in that universe, you were able to work everything out.
You two were in love once after all. You’ve never loved anyone like you loved Frankie and you’re not sure you’ll ever will.
That wasn’t enough though.
You weren’t enough.
It’s hard to compete with the release found in a powder, or in a bottle. It’s just as hard to live with that fact too.
The tannoy sounds loudly around you, breaking you from your reverie. You hate this part of the holiday or travelling - hanging around an airport, the worries about flight tickets and passports. You want to skip immediately to the moment where you’re settled in your hotel room, ideally at the beach with a coconut water in one hand and your new book in the other.
It’s been a long day. Your flight was delayed by several hours due to staffing shortages, it’s the middle of the night and by now you’d planned be fast asleep, not standing in baggage reclaim with your ex-boyfriend, a tired daughter and one particularly drunk idiot five metres away.
You’re tired and hungry and Clara is about ten minutes from reaching her breaking point, however, ever since Frankie’s picked her up, she’s been beaming and like a completely different child to your utter betrayal.
You feel like you’ve run a half marathon but Frankie’s been right there with you and the man is practically glowing. It’s like
Maybe everyone’s right. Maybe you do really need this break.
“That’s the last one of ours,” he says lightly, looking at the battered suitcase in the distance and moving immediately to fetch it from the carousel, even with one arm taken by a tired toddler.
This seemed like such a good idea in theory.
You’re friends now, you’re co-parents, you’re both in the wedding party. It seemed obvious to do this - to give Clara an amazing holiday experience and memories with both of her parents, to ensure Benny and Lia have the wedding they deserve without your drama. It sounded so simple, so mature, at the time.
This is the first time the three of you have spent this much time together since the breakup though. You’ve both had a lot of mature conversations about what’s right for your child, what’s right for Benny and Lia too as it’s their wedding after all.
It’s easy in theory though. A simple diktat of ‘everyone needs to be on their very best behaviour.‘
This is going to be a disaster.
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You meet Frankie at a coffee shop. There is a new barista in training and a long, slow-moving queue. You can smell the coffee aroma around, the siren’s song of freshly baked pastries calling to you.
This is your favourite coffee spot on the way to work and it’s usually quieter, usually easier to just slip in and out before heading to the office.
You shift awkwardly on the spot, mentally adding up if you still have enough to get coffee before work, if the barista is likely to be able to make the coffee how you like it, or if perhaps even thinking that makes you ungrateful and rude.
Then you see Frankie behind you. He is wearing a baseball cap, dark jeans, and a t-shirt. It’s not the hat that draws you in though-  it’s his face. There’s this intense kindness in his eyes, in his features and you straight away feel drawn to him.
He’s exactly your type.
He speaks first, making polite small talk and his low, calm voice soothes the lingering anxiety about schedules and instead you just want to know about him.
You’re terrible with dating. The apps feel so impersonal and you’re always nervous about how you’ll make an impression, if you look the way you should, if Dateline is true and you’ll go on a date and never be seen again.
You’re not a romantic, not really, you think. You’d like to find someone though; you’d like to fall in love. You want that, you want it to feel organic.
So, when Frankie walks into your life, maybe it’s kismet.
He’s smart and funny and it’s so easy to talk to him and he asks for your number when you pick up your coffee from the counter, asks if he can call you. It feels right to say yes. You want to know him more, to get to know him, to just spend more time with him.
You’re almost wishing the queue would carry on, that the coffee would take longer just for an extra moment with him.  You even take your time and hover around the cafe to wait for him to pick up his Americano so you can extend the moment.
“What do you do?” you ask casually as you step outside the cafe, taking a sip of your drink.
“Oh,” Frankie shuffles then looks up at you with a smile, “I’m a pilot.” He could have led with that you think to yourself , you know so many people who would be impressed by that job, and by the way he winks at you before heading in the opposite direction, he knows it too.
He texts you an hour later.
It feels like a book or a movie, all of your dreams and hopes finally coming off the page and into your real life.
 You don’t know a lot about Frankie at that point, like the cafe is next to a NA meeting, or that Frankie has his demons. You don’t know that loving Frankie is bith the easiest thing in the world and being loved him feels like it could be everything. You don’t know that won’t be enough though, that plastic baggies and nightmares and a short reccy will systematically unravel every thread of your life with him in just a few years.
You can’t know that then and even if yoy had, it probably wouldn’t have changed anything.
Fate has its ways after all.
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The hotel Benny and Lia are getting married in is stunning. You knew it was going to be an extravagant affair from talking to Lia and hearing vague murmurs about the planning over brief coffees and calls. You definitely got the impression from the cost of the hotel rooms when you were booking your stay,  but this? This is like a scene from a movie.
Even in the pitch darkness, the spotlights on the pavement illuminated the building to show its luxurious facades and the reception was gleaming and bright. You can’t remember staying somewhere like this before.
It seems idyllic.
Seems being the operative word right now.
“Okay, but the apartment had two bedrooms,” you say, resting an elbow on the marble counter in exhaustion and frustration. “Two, that’s what I specifically booked. The family apartment. Now there’s a problem?” That had been the deal, you would take the one room with an extra cot for Clara and Frankie would have the other room so you could exist as the perfect co-parenting happy family you were at least trying to be for your kid.
It had been a good plan.
The receptionist’s bright demeanour falters momentarily and she looks at her computer screen instead of meeting your haze “Yes but appears there was a small glitch with the booking online and well - we checked the other family in earlier. We do have a room for you, of course.”
You look over at Frankie desperately. Of course there was a problem, you think, feeling the familiar sensation of tears burning in the back of your eyes.
You told Frankie you had sorted the hotel booking, you told him that it would all be okay and it’s a mess. You’re a mess.
“So, your system has glitched. However, we have either an apartment or a room, right? Good. Please can you confirm that the one you’ve put us in -” Frankie begins, his voice steady.
“It’s technically an upgrade,” she says brightly. “It opens out onto the beach and it’s actually one of my favourites.”
“That’s wonderful. Does it have two bedrooms though?” Frankie asks.
“No.”
Your face falls and you squeeze your eyes shut to fight the impending tears. You are exhausted and you made the right booking for the right room, how can this be happening to you?
“However, we have put a pull-out cot in the room for your daughter, so that should resolve your concerns over the bedrooms and the room really is a lovely one. It’s the grade above what you booked actually and the views are stunning. You even have a terrace as I said that opens on the beach and -“
“We’re not together,” you say bluntly. “That’s why we need separate rooms. We’re not together.” Your voice sounds almost plaintive now, repeating that you and Frankie are most definitely not a couple.
Not anymore.
“Oh. I - uh, I - we’re fully booked with the wedding,” she says in a small voice, tapping keys on her keyboard desperately as it if will magic an extra room into the universe. “I’m so sorry.”
You look at Frankie who shrugs as the two of you try and have a mental conversation.
“We’ll figure it out,” you say. “For tonight. Tomorrow we will need a better resolution.”
“I don’t know what we can do. I’ll - we’ll look into this for you.”
“Thanks. Alright, let’s get this munchkin to bed,” you say, looking at your daughter fast asleep in Frankie’s arms.
“Yeah, we’ll uh, we’ll sort this out tomorrow.”
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“Honestly, you need this break,” Frankie says, leaning against a kitchen counter as you shake your head at him and concentrate on unloading the dishwasher.
“I have so much work and - do you think I want this? I don’t want to miss Lia’s wedding or seeing Clara in her dress -” The past few months have been difficult with work and while you’ve been so looking forward to a holiday and Lia’s wedding, it’s starting to feel impossible.
“So don’t,” Frankie says, shaking his head.
“It’s not that simple. My job -”
“Oh, honestly, fuck your job.” Frankie runs his hand over his face, removing his cap and squeezing it awkwardly.
“I have a mortgage and I can’t just - I can’t just leave things.”
“You’re burnt out,” Frankie interjects in a low voice, “Everyone sees it. Lia’s worried about you too, she told Benny.”
“Traitor.”
“I’m worried about you too. You have the PTO already booked off and our daughter is so excited about all of us going together.”
“I know,” you say, wiping the tears from your eyes. “I know.”
Frankie moves over sintantly, placing a hand delicately on your shoulder. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. It’ll be okay.”
“Don’t tell me it’s a job, I know that.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“I feel like I’m letting everyone down.”
“You’re not, you’re definitely not. I can promise you that.”
You look up between bleary tear-filled eyes. “Why are you being so nice to me, Frankie?” He doesn’t need to be nice to you anymore; you’re not together, you’re just co-parents.
“You’re still - still important to me. We’re friends again, right?”
You nod.  You are friends again; it’s taken some time to reach this point but you missed having Frankie in your life. This sober Frankie before you? He’s someone you want to be your friend again too.
“Please don’t try and tell me you’re not going to your best friend’s wedding again. We’re all going. It will be good.”
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Despite the late hour of your arrival, you can immediately tell the hotel room is special. It’s too dark to see out towards the terrace but the wide French doors are already inviting you out and you have visions of sitting there in the morning with a cup of coffee.  The furnishings are white and blue, the classic coastal colour scheme, with rich dark wood furniture. What you can see of the bathroom looks great as well.
The problem is the two armchairs instead of a sofa, the tiny rollaway cot for Clara and the giant king size bed in the room.
Normally, the crisp white sheets would be all to inviting, but in this scenario you feel panicked.
How are you going to work this out? You thought the pull-out bed would be large enough for one of you, or that there would at least be a sofa.
The priority has been Clara and getting her ready for bed and asleep as soon as possible.
Now though, the two of you are standing awkwardly.
“You should take the bed,” he says, “I know things have been a lot recently and you should have it anyway, but -”
“Where would you sleep?”
“There’s a bathtub, right?” Frankie says calmly. “I could get the blankets and I could sleep there tonight.”
“You can’t sleep in a bathtub, Frankie!“
“Why not? I’ve slept in worst places when I was a pilot.”
“Exactly what about your back? Same for me, I guess - I’m getting flashbacks of drunken house parties now.”
“Oh really?” Frankie smiles.
“Long time ago,” you say, looking down at your daughter who is now tucked into the cot and is already asleep.
Your eyes feel so heavy with tired and you’re dying to have a shower and then curl up for the night so the holiday can properly start in the morning.
Frankie looks similarly fraught; his brow is furrowed and he’s perched on an arm of the armchair.
“We’re grown-ups, right?” you ask after a moment.
“So they keep telling me,” he replies with mischief in his eyes.
“Okay, then we’ll talk to the hotel in the morning, get this sorted out for good, but it’s one night, Frankie, and I am fucking exhausted.” You look over at Frankie. “It’s a big enough bed and there are enough pillows that we can - yes, yes, that’s the only option, isn’t it?” You nod your head; certain this is the only solution now. You’re tired and you desperately want to sleep and just hope that tomorrow will be better when you wake up.
“And you’re sure about this?”
“Do you have a better idea?  And the bathtub is not an option, Frankie.”
Frankie thinks for a moment and shakes his head.
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“Do you still sleep on the same side?” Frankie asks in a low voice, rubbing his hair and exposing a hint of his stomach and automatically moving to the other side of the bed.
You nod and awkwardly put your phone on the bedside table and get into your side of the bed. “You?”
“It’s fine.” You remember that Frankie used to like the same side of the bed too, he’d use that as an excuse whenever you woke up in his arms each morning.
This is going to be so much harder than you thought it would be.
“Was this necessary?” Frankie asks, pointing at the barrier of pillows.
“I didn’t want either of us to feel uncomfortable,” you say simply and your voice feels small.
“It’s fine, it’s all good.”
“I don’t even know why I did it.”
“It’s not a big deal, okay?” Frankie gets into his side of the bed, barely stifling a yawn. Maybe the day is finally catching up with him. In the dim light of the bedside tables, you can see the exhaustion starting to fill his eyes, the tiredness on his face.
“Still can’t believe you were going to sleep in the bathtub anyway!”
”It seemed a good idea at the time. Hey, she’s fast asleep,” Frankie says with a smile, indicating your daughter who is safely tucked into her own bed. “Y’know, I wanted to say thanks for this.”
“You’re the one who persuaded me not to stay and work.” You smile and shake your head as you slip into the covers. “Can’t believe I almost considered that.” Though in fairness, you wouldn’t be dealing with this hotel room drama if you were at home. You wouldn’t be with Clara though. “Besides, Lia’s my friend too and you had a good idea with combining this with something for Clara.  I want her to grow up and know we’re not fighting each other and that we’re on the same side. She’s our priority, right?”
‘’Always.”
“Besides, I’ve never stayed somewhere like this before.”
“Me either.”
“You travelled everywhere in the army.”
“Oh, darling, you have very different ideas about life in the army. I stayed in dorms or safe-houses or outside.” You notice the way his smile falters slightly, his eyes haunted by the ghosts of a short reccy that turned into days of worry and anguish. All Frankie came back with were bad dreams and enough trauma to send him straight to the escape of his vices.
“I’m sorry about the room.”
“It’s not on you. Besides, it’s one night. We’ll sort it out properly tomorrow.”
“Yeah, it’s just one night,” you repeat.
“Huh, heard that one before,” Frankie says sadly and before you can think about what he’s just said, he turns to the other side of the wall.
Usually you listen to a meditation or a sleep story to drift away. You like the harmless, ambient noise and dulcet tones of someone else to lull the stresses of the day away.
You can’t do that with Frankie here though and your second option for sleeplessness … absolutely not.
You switch off the light and exhale slowly. You’ll be fine, you can count sheep or try that breathing technique you read about. It’s just you’re so tired now you don’t even feel like sleeping now.
“You okay?” a low voice asks quietly.
“I hate the first night in a new bed.”
“I remember.”
“It’s fine.”
You turn over so you’re facing Frankie’s side. In the darkness of the room, all you can see is the silhouette of the many pillows separating the two of you and the broad outline of his shoulders.
You remember nights kissing the freckles on his neck, his shoulders, being so incontrovertibly in love with this man you thought you could spend forever in bed with him. You’d have spent forever anywhere with him once. 
You’ve dated since Frankie, you know he has as well, but somehow the finality of the very barrier that you created is pulling at your heartstrings right now. It’s all wrong.
It’s not supposed to be like this.
This is going to be a long week.
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If you would like to be added to to the taglist please let me know. As a reminder this blog is 18+ - minors do not interact and I block blank/ageless blogs.
LGL tag-list: @morallyinept @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @beboldbebravethings @spishsstuff @bitchesuntitled @redcake444 @missladym1981 @kungfucapslock @dinoflower-reads @kirsteng42 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine
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Text
i've built my dreams around you
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Summary: You find out Natasha's never been to a Christmas market. Considering you work at one, you do what any good partner would do: make her go around with you.
Word Count: 1618
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Request: Can you write natasha and reader celebrating christmas and reader takes natasha to her first christmas market?
Warnings: None that I can think of!
A/N: Merry Christmas everyone :) Comment and reblogs are always appreciated.
»»————- ★ ————-««
“You’ve never been to a Christmas market?”
“I’ve crashed a car through one before-”
“Natasha!”
“What? That doesn’t count?”
“You know full well that doesn’t count. You’re supposed to embrace the spirit of Christmas, not destroy it!”
After a slew of horrified looks targeted at her, Natasha finally decided to spare your neck ache by spinning you around to face her for the continuing conversation.
“I have a break at 2 pm tomorrow,” you told her, “come visit and I’ll take you around?”
A smile spread on your girlfriend’s face, filling you with warmth as she wrapped her arms around you and pulled herself closer, nodding against your lips. “Sounds perfect,” she whispered, punctuating it with a brief kiss. “I can't wait.”
Neither could you – a Christmas with your girlfriend would be a dream come true, and as you watched her leave, your mind ceaselessly imagined romantic cliches of the two of you together and all the stalls that she might love. So hopelessly enamoured by her, you hadn’t even noticed your mistake, watching her figure until it disappeared through the doorway. But when you turned back to your baking, the absent slice of your freshly made brownies spoke for itself.
“Natasha!” you yelled.
The Avenger returned dutifully, poking her head around the doorframe with both a knowing smugness on her face and the necessary evidence held between her teeth.
“You couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”
“They’re delicious love, I see why you always sell out.”
Seeing through her deflection, you continued undeterred, “That was deception.”
“Well, I’m a spy.” With that, Natasha disappeared once more. You shook your head as echoes of her footsteps running upstairs met your ears, then turned back to the counter – you’d need to cook far more now that you’d invited a brownie thief to your stall.
»»————- ★ ————-««
For every second ticking towards your promised 2 pm, another coat-clad customer extended the queue; the ever-growing line comprised of people vying for both your attention and whichever brownie they had set their sights on. As much as the business’s success was nothing to complain about, all you wished to see was a glint of your girlfriend’s red hair or the saving grace of your friend coming to cover your shift.
13:56. They would be there soon.
In the meantime, you near-mindlessly served customers, fulfilling order after order while daydreaming of all the stalls you planned to take your girlfriend to see. Until-
“I think I’ll try the Oreo blondie”
- her voice broke through the chatter of the market, snapping you instantly out of your head. This wasn’t just another customer in front of you, but Natasha, wearing the Christmas jumper you’d gifted her years before, jeans, a green jacket, and a beanie still half-folded over her distinctive hair.
You scoffed – though without hiding the smile that came with it – and shook your head. “I don’t serve brownie thieves,” you told her seriously.
“What am I dating a baker for if not for the free food?” she hit back.
“I don’t know. My good looks? My charming personality?”
“Your humour is definitely up there.”
“Hey!” you said in an image of false offence, before waving her along with the tilt of your head. “Now you’re really not getting a brownie today. Get in here and stop holding up the queue, there’s still-” a check of your watch- “two minutes more ‘til the backup arrives.”
Natasha grinned and wasted no time jogging to the side of the stall, entering and wrapping her arms around you from behind. “I’m still working, love,” you half-heartedly reminded her, then turned to a customer, “What flavours would you like?”
“Just missed you is all,” Natasha muttered in your ear, “and I am excited for today.”
You glanced back every so often, but still focused on reducing the queue as best you could. “I’m glad you are, Natty, but maybe you need to go find your teammate so we can enjoy it at all.”
“No need,” another familiar voice said from the side of the stall, “Natasha’s teammate is here. Is that how you refer to me? I introduced you two.”
“It’s usually ‘friend’, Wanda. ‘Natasha’s teammate’ when you’re late.”
“By one minute!”
“Shameful. Does Natasha not teach you any punctuality in training?”
“I do.”; “She’s too busy knocking me to the floor.”
“Oh, that’s true too,” Natasha nodded, pulling herself away from you to greet her teammate properly.
“Now the two of you get out of here and enjoy the market before I hit you with a brownie,” Wanda scolded lightly, twirling her fingers to subtly lift an off-display tray of brownies in warning.
You didn’t need to be told twice, and Natasha was already out of there. “I really do owe you one, thanks for this Wands.”
“If you get Natasha to go easy on me in training, I’ll call us even.”
“Nobody can get her to do that-”
“Are you coming?” Natasha interrupted from outside the stall.
“-So I guess I’ll still owe you one.”
You caught Wanda’s smile and the beginning of an eye roll even as you turned to run away, and you thanked everything that you’d ended up with a friend like her. Natasha was in similarly high spirits when you met her outside, with a loving gaze that lingered on you while you took her hand and began to show her around. You told her to stop eventually since even you could see that she forsook the beautiful Christmas scenery surrounding her in favour of you.
“I can’t help it,” she told you, “Christmas is about the things you love, isn’t it?”
“You’re sweet.”
“It’s something in the air.”
“That’s just the churros.”
“Haha, very funny,” she deadpanned.
“They do make the air sweet, same as my stall, or the waffles! Come on, let me get you something, it’s part of the full experience,” you promised, fulfilling all the plans you’d made in your daydreams. Natasha nodded her agreement, but her eager smile quickly morphed to shock when you took her wrist and ran off, weaving through the crowds and taking her with you until you reached the desired stand.
You pulled her closer once you arrived as a means of apology, then struck up a conversation asking how her day had been until then. Her hand began to hover over her coat pocket as she spoke, alerting you to her wallet’s whereabouts – it had become almost tradition for the two of you to fight over payments, each trying to treat the other, but after promising to be her guide, you refused to lose the battle this time. So you laced your fingers with hers and held her arm stiffly to the side, pulling your own card out the moment the order was made. 
Natasha didn’t take it without resistance, struggling to free herself from your hold and even stating her intention to pay, but to no avail. You released her only once the payment had gone through, allowing her to take the churros from the seller.
“Thank you,” she muttered lowly, offering you a churro as she began to nibble on one of her own. The two of you strolled purposelessly through the crowds, side by side, and worked through the churros until Natasha held just an empty packet. After freeing her hand of the packet, Natasha’s first move was to take your hand in hers again – a move that caused you to recoil at the frigidity of her skin against yours. 
“You’re freezing.” You jumped into action – taking the gloves from your pocket to pull them over Natasha’s hands, then touching her cheeks and forehead to see they were cold too. With nothing else to wrap her in, you wordlessly led your girlfriend to the nearest stall and ordered a hot chocolate for both of you to warm up with. 
“There’s one more thing I want to do.”
“Is it the Ferris wheel?”
“Of course it’s the Ferris wheel.”
“Good,” Natasha said quietly, “we had the same idea then.”
You didn’t take her hand as you led her through the crowds this time – mainly because they were securely wrapped around her cup – but the two of you manoeuvred onwards to the rotating contraption. The sun had begun to set, and the queue had subsided enough that you were quickly led onto the ride and secured, marking the perfect end to the day. 
With a whir of machinery, the two of you began to rise, watching the shops and crowds you'd spent hours pushing through shrink into a model village.
“I had fun,” Natasha said suddenly.
“Did you like the stalls?”
“The stalls, the food, the lights… I see why you love it.”
“Yeah, so crash your car elsewhere next time.” 
She scoffed, but carried on, gazing down at the labyrinth of brightly lit cabins. “It's Christmas-y, but not enough for the full Christmas spirit.”
“What else-”
“It's the company that makes that,” she clarified, finally looking up at you and squeezing your free hand. “And I'm lucky enough to have the perfect companion.”
You'd reached the top by then, silence engulfed the two of you as the chatter of the crowd stilled with distance – up there, it was just you and her.
“You'll have me forever,” you promised. Your eyes drifted to where your hands met, surveying the left hand which – in just a couple more weeks – would no longer be without a ring. The token itself was entrusted to Yelena’s care until Christmas, until your plan could come to fruition.
“A lifetime of you and your baking,” Natasha mused, still unaware of how soon that dream may be, “sounds perfect.”
You smiled, shuffling close. “Merry Christmas, Natasha.”
“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”
»»————- ★ ————-««
taglist: @canvascoloredin @fxckmiup @wizardofstories
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btranmuses · 1 year
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prncessjaeger · 4 months
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last christmas ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
ღ trin speaks!: i couldn't choose between mikasa or ellie so take your pick 😵‍💫 (​i also had smut written but ehh i’ll save it for another day!)
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soft christmas music played on queue as you finished rubbing the face mask on your girlfriend’s face with your matching roller, “oh my god you look soooo adorable baby!”
“i look like you,”
“exactly, now let’s push your hair back cause you don’t want the face mask cream all in your hair, and then we can make cookies!” she felt the cool comb run through her hair, slicking it back into a low bun matching your braided bun, adding the matching fluffy headband knowing it’d annoy her more, but she just sat there, letting you do whatever because she loves you just that much. 
you got up fixing up your christmas onesie, matching with your girlfriend and walked to the kitchen, turning the volume up once mariah carey’s ‘all i want for christmas’ played next, “you are not mariah,"
“shut up. now come help me please?” she sighed and got up, seeing you set your phone up against the couter, pressing record. “we’re just making sugar cookies?” “mhm, then we gon decorate them, have a little competition or something?” she began mixing the dough with her hands, shaking her head hearing you singing the chorus terribly. when she finished, you brought out the cookie cutters with all different shapes and sizes, and even got one with your and her names customized as well, “which one?”
“you pick.” humming, you grabbed the snowman for her and a christmas tree for you and began sorting them out, adding them to the baking sheet and setting the timer, “icing time! we’re making our own cause i absolutely hate store bought icing,” you began mixing in the wet and dry ingredients together and your girlfriend watched you in awe, suddenly coming behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist and lay her chin in the crevice of your neck and shoulder, kissing you tenderly, “you’re so…”
“so what?” “i don’t know but i’m just in awe with you, like everything about you just leaves me in awe…” she backed up and turned you around, seeing your grin beam into your full smile she adores, “you are the sweetest person i know, and i love you oh so much.” “i love you too baby…now can we take these facemasks off? i don’t like it anymore.” rolling your eyes playfully, you nodded and wrapped the top of the bowl filled with icing with plastic wrap, walking to the bathroom and successfully removed the facemask, rinsing the rest of the cream off and decided to keep the headbands on, posing for flics and videos to post later.
the bell from the cookies went off, rushing to the kitchen to take the cookies out and letting them cool, “imma add food dye in the icing, then fill the bags and we can start then.” you set the timer having everything set, pressing record once again and turned to your girlfriend, “you ready?” “yeah, what’s the deal?”
“loser gives head?” you both shook on it and began decorating your cookies, your girlfriend was quieter than you, which was unusual for her, but you brushed it off as her being focused. When the timer went off, you both backed away and giggled, glancing at each other's cookie. You looked at her cookie then her, rolling your eyes hard when you saw her trying (and failing) to hold her laugh in. “bro you cheated!” “how i cheated?!” “you made the cookie ugly on purposeeee, and that’s not fair!” she giggled, annoying you even further when she replied with, “i’m taking every chance i can when it comes to eating your pussy, you knew that!” 🎀
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takecareluv · 10 months
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omg meg baby imagine giving steve a haircut <3 he’s like so anxious at first n then he gets so so relaxed n he’s lowkey nappijg by the end and u wake him up and he’s like. hm? with the softest voice ever <3 <3
— @inkluvs (ivy)
mr. perfect hair | steve harrington x reader
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word count : 777
author's note : omg it’s so funny you sent this in because i’m literally getting a hair cut tmr !! anyway. . . this is my first stevie request :3 eeek im a little nervous. i hope it's okay! <3
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
although you adored your boyfriend's infamous hair more than anyone, even you could admit he was in dire need of a trim. getting steve to agree, however, would take some serious convincing on your part. especially considering his last trip to the barber shop was, in steve's words, "scarring for life". he didn't leave the house for almost a month after the disastrous haircut without any sort of hat atop his head.
luckily for you, you had that boy wrapped around your finger — knowing exactly what it would take to get your stevie to do just about anything you asked, including giving his precious hair a little trim.
. . .
adorned in your boyfriend's favorite dress, and shoes to match, you pulled a fresh batch of your homemade chocolate chip cookies out of the oven — baked to perfection — and placed them next to a bottle of steve's preferred beer, waiting for his arrival.
as if on queue, steve walked through the doorway, smiling at the sight of you before abruptly pausing due to the sweetness that filled not only the air, but now his senses. "i know that smell. those are your bribery cookies... what are you up to?" he questioned with a suspicious but ever so loving look, preparing himself to inevitably say yes to whatever it is you were about to ask of him.
"well... you see i just made an appointment for a haircut and i was thinking maybe it's time you get one too," you smiled hesitantly, attempting to gauge his reaction.
"i don't know, baby. i don't think i can go back to that salon. they messed up big time. practically ruined me. i can't be steve 'the hair' harrington with no hair."
you rolled your eyes at his dramatics before cutting off the rest of his rant, "i'll do it for you, stevie." noticing him soften at your plea, you continued, "please let me do it for you? can't see those beautiful eyes of yours with all that hair in the way." you spoke calmly while looking up at him with your award-winning puppy dog eyes, hoping it would do the trick.
after a brief moment of silent contemplating, steve let out a loud sigh, "fine." you began to jump up and down in celebration. "but," he emphasized, "only a little bit, baby. no more than an inch, okay?"
you nodded excitedly in response.
"you promise?" steve gave a pointed look, holding his pinkie finger up towards you, waiting for your own to intertwine with his. "i promise, stevie! i'll do just enough to get off all the dead ends, that's it!"
"hey! I don't have dead ends. my hair is perfect!"
"keep telling yourself that pretty boy," you teased while ruffling his truly perfect hair.
. . .
after a few minutes of anxiousness, steve remembered it was only you doing his hair, not some stranger who didn't know the first thing about him, but you. you who probably saw his hair more than he did. you who knew exactly how he liked it styled. he knew he could trust you, he could always trust you.
as you began to gently brush through his ends, you felt him relax and even lean into your touch, letting out a long, content sigh.
knowing he was finally calm enough, you grabbed the scissors you had prepared next to you and slowly started to snip away at his hair, small pieces descending to the floor after every cut.
soon after, you were making one last snip before placing the scissors down and brushing your fingers through steve's soft strands, noticing the way your boyfriend's eyes began to flutter closed.
"feel good, stevie?"
goosebumps cover his body from your whispered words and soft touches. "yes," he hummed in response. "can you play with my hair forever, sweetheart?"
"i'm not sure about forever, but i'll try my best. do you wanna see how it looks?"
he shakes his head. "if you did it, i'm sure it's perfect." pressing a quick kiss to your temple while guiding you towards the couch. "right now i just want you to keep playing with my hair. please?" practically begging at this point, how could you say no to your sweet boy.
. . .
you remain on the couch for the rest of the night, steve's head resting on your lap while you give him all the head scratches he wants and deserves, almost lulling him right to sleep.
"i hope you know you're the only one who's allowed to cut my hair from now on, sweetheart."
you giggle. "are you sure you can afford me? i'm pretty expensive. and those head scratches are extra you know."
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emmyrosee · 5 months
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hii! if your requests are open, can i ask for a fluffy time skip kenma x hard of hearing fem reader? maybe they can bake an apple pie together on a stream or something 😫 but if not it's totally okay! i understand that not everyone is willing to write about things like that, so you don't have to include the hard of hearing detail but it'd be greatly appreciated if you did!
btw i love your writing! keep doing what you're doing :)) 🖤🖤
You’re nervous. He sees that.
While you’re no stranger to Kenma’s streams or videos, it’s the first time you’d be doing a… collaborative effort, rather than just conversing with him, and it has your head spinning slightly to try and work on the ways you'll be able to communicate with him.
He tells you his holiday stream can wait, and he's more than happy to make this an easy video for you both; you tell him to shut up.
"I'll be fine," you groan. "It's not like I can't hear you, it just takes a second to hit.”
“That’s not the point,” he says simply, watching as you continue to set up pots and pans to bake with, pausing briefly to keep you from getting lost in the clattering of metal. “The stream doesn’t have to be us baking or anything like that. We can just play overcooked or something.”
“They voted for this.”
“I don’t care what they voted for.”
“Yeah, see, that’s where we differ,” you tease, and you walk over to him and tug him to a hug. “Besides, look at the queue to get into the stream; do you really want to be the big, bad Kodzuken who ruined Christmas for his fans as the donate to the shelter-“
“They should be donating regardless of what we do.”
“I know, but we still need the incentive.” He quirks a brow at you and you roll your eyes. “You’re being dramatic, babe. I’ll be fine!”
He holds his hands up in mercy, then leans forwards to start the stream, slender fingers peeking out from his hoodie sleeve to start it.
“OH!”
Instantly, you turn on your heel to look at him, his fingers just a few inches away from starting the show.
“No signs Kenma,” you say firmly, which makes his brow cock in confusion. “I mean it; I don’t need your viewers to… see.”
“See what?” He asks genuinely. “That you have a hearing disorder?”
“Yes!”
“Baby, they know-“
“Yeah, but…” you sigh softly. “They don’t need to see it in action. I’m sure I can hear you fine. We'll just have to work a little bit slower is all."
He opens his mouth to speak, but you quickly make your way to grab some more ingredients, sure to tune him out from whatever he could say. You hear him sigh, and he quickly shuffles over to you to let you know he’s going to start the stream.
Immediately, there’s so much happening it’s almost overwhelming.
Right off the bat, there’s donations flying, alerts ringing in the air of your spacious kitchen and echoing back through to rattle your skull. Kenma tries to talk just a hair louder than everything else, just to keep the flow of any potential conversation going.
You know he’s trying to help… but it’s not exactly helping as much as he thinks it is.
You feel your palms shaking and growing clammy, trying to ignore his questions and comments and focus on the recipe that you can see from the counter.
Bless his heart, he’s working at the end of the day, but he ends up focusing more on the scrolling chat than trying to help you to make a semi-actually edible pie.
Of course you could read the cookbook. That’s not the point. You want to interact with him, you want to pay attention to him, but you’re completely discombobulated, trying to work efficiently and cooly without being both, efficient and cool.
The sounds of his donations and notifications throw off the flow of what you are able to make out, his lips moving but the words not quite hitting your mind.
And you freeze.
Your hands on the bag of sugar freeze, nails digging slightly into the manila in an attempt to keep yourself grounded. The grains shift under your grip, and you try to focus on the texture rather than the heating up of your cheeks.
You’re not sure how much time has passed before Kenma finally, gently, touches your shoulder, snapping you out of a daze and bringing you back down to him. He smiles, “hey angel.”
“Ken…”
“I had to turn down the dono’s; they just got a little too loud for me,” he says, letting a hand gently rub down your back to soothe you. “I hope that’s okay.”
He’s lying, for your sake. You’ve never been more in love with him.
You nod shakily, “yeah no, that’s… that’s fine. Just let me know if there’s a big donation to celebrate.”
“Will do.”
He wraps an arm around you, dramatically for camera purposes but still enough to keep you grounded and comfortable in his grip.
“Just relax,” he encourages, kissing your temple before pulling back and offering you a sign with his hands low by his hips. Cinnamon. “I think we need cinnamon.”
You blink in confusing before he smiles softly. You beam back at him and nod softly, “right! For the filling! Be right back.”
You hear a small call from Kenma, but he’ll have to talk about it later. Once you’re at the cabinet, you rest your head against the cool wood, letting in a sharp breath before slipping it back out. He talks some more, a little bit easier to process now that you’re still, and all you can do is smile to yourself while he acknowledges chat.
You told him you’d be just fine.
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capricornlevi · 5 months
Text
warm, cool, sweet and bitter
cafe!owner nanami x reader - gn!reader - sfw - wc 1.6k
"not going for the usual?"
nanami's question is delivered casually and carefully, the low tones of his voice carrying across the empty floor of the restaurant.
his restaurant, to be exact. your favourite spot for a late-night cup of tea and the only place in the city that serves sandwiches made with baguettes baked fresh in-house, you find yourself here around 4am at least four days a week.
it's funny; your schedules make it so that the end of your day always coincides with the start of nanami's. he comes in early to put the pastries in the oven, to grind the coffee beans to the correct consistency, to ensure that there's enough stock to last the coming few hours. he's always occupied with some task or another -- for his sake, you're glad you're the only customer at this hour.
though the restaurant is a veritable ghost town whenever you visit, he has told you it tends to pick up around 7am. within the hour, there's a queue out the door.
the popularity doesn't surprise you. nothing beats the welcoming aroma of fresh bread from the oven, the slightly bitter but warm scent of brewing coffee enveloping you into a little bubble sheltered from the usual hustle and bustle of the streets outside.
the bar you work at is just three doors down, and so by the time last call is announced, you're already thinking of the warm baguette you're going to enjoy before rushing home to collapse into bed.
the same baguette every time, with the same blend of tea. you're fairly certain he gives you the same mug every time, too, a beautifully crafted piece of porcelain with little hand-painted yellow flowers decorating the sides.
you've carved out a nice little routine for yourself. but as nanami so astutely pointed out a moment ago, you figure it's time to change it.
some aspects of the routine stay the same; you sit on the same counter stool you always sit at, placed just beside the coffee maker so you can chat as nanami prepares a macchiato for himself. nanami looks the same, dressed in that familiar shirt and slacks that seem perfectly tailored just for him. the smooth jazz playlist plays so quietly in the background that it's barely legible -- you only catch a note or two every few minutes.
but you are going to change one key aspect of this ironclad routine: your order.
"yeah, gonna go for coffee today, i think," you inform him, trying to sound assured in your decision. "a double epresso, please."
"a double? at four in the morning?"
he casts a questioning look your way from over the counter and you shrug, trying to ignore the ache of your muscles as you do so. as he hand-whisks some whipped cream for the pastries, a few strands of his blond hair fall into his eyes. he tries to flick them away to no avail.
you swallow, a lump forming in your throat as you think of how to reply.
"busy day ahead of me, i guess."
nanami nods slowly -- out of politeness, you presume, since there's no way he knows what you're referring to.
your purposeful vagueness isn't to be rude, though, it's just saving you both from extreme awkwardness.
since the reason you're loading up on caffeine is so that you're fully charged to go and break up with your cheating boyfriend.
your pathetic, free-loading, unable to do his own laundry, didn't even have the courtesy to crop you out of the pictures he used on his Tinder profile, miserable excuse for a boyfriend.
in the middle of your lunchbreak you received a text from a girl he'd been hooking up with, who had very kindly spotted your picture on his social media and decided to inform you as to the calibre of man you were calling your significant other.
you thanked her, typed up a three-sentence long text telling your boyfriend it was over, and blocked him.
he had then used his friend's phone to call you, weeping for a chance to explain, snivelling and choking out inarticulate apologies, and you agreed to see him one last time.
just to give him a piece of your mind before cutting him off for good. it'll be good for closure, you figure.
you're more angry than heartbroken -- honestly, you're not sure you ever really liked him. six months into this relationship and you find yourself looking forward to these conversations with nanami more than you do spending time with the man you're actually seeing.
were seeing. past tense, thankfully.
nanami bends down to place the whipped cream in the fridge, dusting some residual flour from his royal blue shirt as he rises again.
"sounds like more than just a busy day," he observes patiently, measuring out some espresso grounds to pull your coffee. "want to talk about it?"
against the odds, your exhausted face brightens with a smile. "there's good customer service, and then there's me taking advantage of your hospitality, nanami."
shaking his head amusedly as he shakes off the excess grounds from the basket, he chuckles, a low, pleasant sound that lodges in your chest.
"it's not taking advantage if i'm offering willingly."
"you don't have enough to do around here?" you grin.
"oh, i do. but hearing about your problem might make me feel better about having to spend three hours doing stock take later this evening."
"ah, so i'm doing you a service moaning about my personal life?"
"absolutely. in fact, if it's tragic enough, i'll throw in a pain au chocolate free of charge."
"high stakes," you reply with a faux solemnity. "you really want to hear?"
"very much so," he answers, the sentence being punctuated by the hum of the espresso machine.
"okay then," you sigh, fidgeting with the rings on your right hand as some vain attempt to distract yourself. "the short of it is that i just wasted six months of my life. half a year. five percent of a decade that i'll never get back."
nanami waits for the espresso to finish pouring, the deep amber of the coffee shot wafting steam up into the air between the two of you.
"wasted how?"
another sigh, wearier this time. "on a guy who i genuinely think has annoyed me since i met him."
silence. this time, it doesn't appear to be coffee-related.
but when you glance away from your rings to see nanami's face, you see that it's more pensive than judgemental. as though he's truly considering what to say next.
"why did you agree to go out with him in the first place?" he asks after another few moments, brows slightly pinched together.
a fair question. one you're not entirely sure of the answer to.
"fear of the alternative?" you hazard a guess, acutely aware of how strange it is to be speaking so candidly with a guy you only know through your shared love for baked goods.
"being alone?" he follows up with a sincerity that cuts through any discomfort.
"i guess."
"i know what you mean," nanami continues, finally remembering the espresso shot that's still sitting on the tray.
he takes the cup -- your usual, because neither of you thought to forego that part of the routine -- and sets it before you, muscles in his forearms straining when he crosses them over his chest afterwards.
"you do not," you mumble instictively. the words fall out without you thinking, but they're not meant maliciously; it's just that nanami is so ... eligible, for lack of better word. handsome, engaging, owns his own thriving café.
he makes fresh eclairs every single morning, for crying out loud. you cannot fathom a world in which people aren't lining up to be with him.
though your blurted words could be perceived as rude, nanami just smiles softly, amusement reaching his eyes as they lock with yours.
"want me to tell you something?"
"is it as embarrassing as my fact?" you query, knocking back most of your coffee in one swig.
"unquestionably."
at that, you set the cup back down abruptly, clinking it against the saucer.
"really?"
he just nods. you sit back on the stool, feeling the plush backing of the stool against your lower back.
"go on, then."
"i don't actually open this early."
your face scrunches into an expression of pure confusion; nanami's lips quirk upwards in response.
"what do you mean? do you open in like ... a half hour?"
he shakes his head, those strands of hair falling loose again.
something washes over you, a sense of recognition, connecting the dots slowly in your tired, over-exerted brain.
"nanami ..."
"yes?"
"... do you not open until seven?"
nanami's weighted silence answers your question.
you breathe in, out. blink haplessly up at him.
you're sure your coffee is starting to get cold, but you make no attempt to drink it.
"i - what - what are you - why do you let me come in here three hours early? why did you never say anything?"
you choke out the words desperately, flooded with a dozen different feelings at once.
he stays smiling, but something else flashes in his eyes. you see the already-tense muscles of his arms tighten further.
"why do you think i never said anything?"
143 notes · View notes
heartfullofleeches · 7 months
Note
Not to be a shameless simp on main BUT I couldn't get the idea of Liu with a baker darling out of my head 👩‍🍳🧁💖
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I like to imagine that darling would purposefully bake too many goodies throughout the day just so they can have an excuse to visit the handsome butcher across the street 🤭💕 After all, sharing is caring right? And who better to spread the love with than the person who always seems to have the best cuts of meat set aside for just for them 💖
Ack- that's so cute. I've actually had ideas about a baker darling with Liu before, but never wrote anything about it.
Liu technically can taste things, but considering their species diet relies mostly on raw meat it's not something they really focused on when eating. Sometimes Liu will eat raw peppers or tablespoons of salt or sugar just to get a feel on the different flavors so they know what reactions to give in the presences of others. When they eat things blended into a recipe they can barely taste it as one combined meal and instead it's separate parts down to the tiniest ingredient which can be quite jarring at times.
When Liu eats darling's pastries something is... off. They can't tell what the sweetness filling their mouth is. A substitute of kind to regular white sugar? Honey?... Brown sugar?... As their bond with darling grows, they slowly learn what it is. Whenever they see Darling's smile. Whenever they heard their voice. It's the taste of emotions unexplored before. It's a craving to be by their side and do whatever it takes to make them happy.
It's the taste of love - and they don't ever want to forget it.
I can imagine Liu has nearly (or has) sliced a finger or two off catching a glimpse of the baker while cutting meat. If Darling brings them treats out of the kindest of their heart Liu is fighting tears and pleading for them to take whatever they want from their stock. Liu tries to impress by bringing homemade meals and showing off baking skills of their own by making biscuits and beignets (that's all they know and if they try anything like cakes or cookies it will be a catastrophe....... but maybe Darling can teach them a thing or two sometime
(I thought Tumblr deleted this i was gonna cry but my dumbass put it into the queue. Your darling is so adorable. Thank you!)
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rauberrauber · 1 year
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line up baby
wanted to make a sort of ref for everyone so i can keep track of everyone's designs, heights, etc
side hcs below cuz i wanna ramble lol
fyi any links are just for pictures to help visualize what im trying to say
also add to these with ur own i love reading hcs :]
general:
the sides work with a kind of cartoon logic (kinda like who framed Roger rabbit) which is what their shape shifting and such is, they can survive pretty much everything, dont bend to reality type thing
i also dig playing around with the idea that they just arent human, they dont need to eat, sleep, even breathe or blink if they dont wanna. They just play more human around thomas so they dont freak him out (everyone but remus at least, dude doesnt give a fuck lol) they all have their priorities regarding that kinda stuff. like logan doesnt eat or sleep almost at all (there r exceptions tho obvi (crofters))  while patton rly likes to cook and bake so why not eat the stuff you make? meanwhile remus eats literally anything he can find
they can also float if they wanna, same thing where they just dont around thomas. this came about me just imagining remus consistently floating around in the mindscape instead of walking for whatever reason? so yeah they can do that
theres a core mindscape and a ‘dark’ mindscape, that sorta works like the upside down from stranger things (as in the dark mindscape is like literally upside down and mirrors everything, like this)
everyones also got their own unique doors to their rooms. logans is very sleek and modern, pattons in more childlike and almost vintage, romans resemble castle doors while remus’ is more like a dungeons, virgils is typically angsty teenager with tons of posters and ‘keep out’ signs, and janus has tons of locks on his
design wise the core sides have straight teeth and fluffier hair while the dark sides have sharp teeth and rougher(?) hair (since changing, virgil has vampire-esque fangs)
logan:
square rimmed glasses
loves the rain
unintentionally fidgets with his clothes, always adjusting his glasses or rolling his sleeves up and down or messing with the buttons or his tie
playing more into the whole ‘sides dont have to eat thing’ he finds food kinda nasty lol, again only rly eats stuff thats very good to him (ultimate picky eater basically) patton has tried and failed many times to get logan to try and like new foods
roman was the one who got him to try crofters
watches those long ass video essays about random topics on youtube for background noise
patton:
round glasses and heart eyes
has roller blades/skates! specifically these ones that retract the wheels. good way of getting energy out (even if hes super clumsy with them)
tallest + dad bod
tons of bandages, kinda playing around with the phrase ‘broken heart’
him and janus play video games together (both of them are terrible lol)
definitely listens to dad rock/dad music
roman:
starry eyes!
crown can float on its own (same w/ remus’)
has one of these couches in his room to dramatically faint onto
him and remus dont share a room, but they have a sort of portal to each others rooms if that makes sense. a big mirror but instead of reflecting, its showing into the other room and only the twins can go thru
wants to be his own side after the split
roman and remus pierced each others ears when they were younger
virgil:
decently tall but slouches a lot which hides it (slouching hes shorter than the twins but still taller than janus) also rarely stands or sits straight at all so it kinda shocked the core sides when he showed them how tall he rly was (queue roman being mad cuz hes actually the shortest of the main four lol)
has stereotypical emo hair and still has some purple dye in it
hot topic skeleton fingerless gloves and muddy sneakers (idk why it just feels right)
tons of random bruises
draws his nails black with sharpie
listens to metal music to calm down. remus got him into a lot of numetal, screamo kinda music when virgil was still one of the others, it was one of the few times theyd hang out and virgil wasnt 100% freaked out by remus
definitely experimented with scene fashion when thomas was a teenager
drinks tons of energy drinks
janus:
shortest ha
yellow eyes
bow wrapped on his hat
long flowy cape and heeled shoes with spats (thats what theyre called right?)
uses the staff from pof as a walking cane
speaks fluent pig latin, remus and logan are the only ones who can somewhat understand what he says (remus cuz hes been around janus so long, and logan wanting to research and understand whatever the hell janus is saying) it also has always drove virgil up the wall cuz hes never been able to get it, janus will start speaking it just to annoy him
only rly relaxes when by himself, always kinda putting on a mask with the others and thomas, regardless of how trustworthy he considers them
constantly coming up with proper plans and schemes, typically wouldnt let remus near them with a 10 foot pole (affectionately)
knows how to lockpick
scared of the ocean
remus: 
broken crown
eyes can go all crazy, pupils can be different sizes and such (there was a cartoon that did this where the eyes would go red and have a ton of rings around the pupils like spirals kinda? i cant find a pic of what im rly visualizing rip i hope that makes sense)
ton of rings (one of em is an eyeball ring)
is like half an inch taller than roman and will never let him live it down
enjoys all the ‘bad’ disney/pixar movies. (cars, home on the range, etc) and like unironically enjoys them. prolly started ironically to mess with roman but he genuinely find those ones the best and cant fathom why theyre disliked (totally not self-indulgent cuz some of those movies are my favorites)
comes up with random weird plans and ropes janus into them whenever possible, janus plays along best he can
somewhat wants to fuse back with roman (even if hes unsure why)
remus and virge used to make fun of roman together all the time
remus is the one who gave virge his septum and gages
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bitchlessdino · 1 year
Note
chan- your personal knight/guard. been by your side since what feels like practically forever and has protected you against pretty much everything. You both are close but despite knowing him for so many years and being so close you realise you don’t actually know that much about him so on a walk maybe you’re just asking him random questions about him and learning more about him as a person. Somehow the conversations moved from something like his favourite colour to why he’s not settled down and without missing a beat he’s already answered because of you. Queue a love confession from your knight/guard that you reciprocate.
On a regular basis struggling with cheol and chan rot but today felt fluffy- idk i just think chan would be so sweet as your guard like him being super protective like ‘don’t pick that flower it might be poisonous let me check it’ and it’s like a dandelion or somet 😭
anyways just wanted to leave this with you and express how much I love your work!! I hope you have a good rest of your day or evening and genuinely thank you for taking the time to write on here, i truly appreciate the fact you take time out of your own day to read peoples requests and write whatever comes to mind <33
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Pairing: royal!reader x bodyguard!chan
Genre: fluff
Word count: 3.1k
tags: royal au, overprotective chan, yearning, childhood au, love confessions, misunderstandings
author note: I forget how much fun fluff can be and I thought this concept was so cute also to the person requesting. I hope you like it. I love taking requests, including this one and i apprecate your kind words so much. we could all use your positivity. 💕
You remember when you first met Chan. He was the son of the Head of security that would tend to your father's every public and private safety. In a land ruled by a monarchy, these things were just necessary. You’ve been taught about the value you hold simply because of your bloodline and how you were the most precious there is, you must be protected and guarded at all costs. That’s where Chan came in.
He always claimed to be destined to take on a job much like his father, promising to protect you until the end of your days. That was a huge proclamation for an 8-year-old. He carried a wooden sword wherever he went and always had that big goofy smile on his face. It was his life goal to be strong and dependable like his father, and you believed he one day would.
That was the first and last time you saw him until he was officially appointed your personal bodyguard when he turned 18 years old. You were taking etiquette classes and studying scholarly journals of your country’s history, he trained day and night, mastering every possible martial art to exceed expectations as a protector. He was much different when he returned to you, and much stronger as well. He did not disappoint, but the light in his eyes as a child seemed to have faded, leaving a solemn shell of a man who lives to serve his master.
“Chan!”
He responds promptly. He stands by your side in an instant in proper attire, fit for both professional settings and in case he needs to be active, and meets your eyes. “Yes, your highness.”
“Bake with me.”
He blinks, “Your Highness. Would you not rather have the chefs bake something for you if sweets are what you desire?”
You stare back at him pointedly, crossing your arms, “Are you talking back to me?”
His gaze perks up at the accusation, immediately shaking his head, “No, your high—“
You laugh, doubling over at his panicked expression. “Just kidding. I wanted us to bond! No better bonding than creating delectable pastries. No objections.”
“Yes, your highness.”
He was there whenever you needed him. He never told you ‘no’ and he always did what you told him to. All done with a stone face. He took his duty seriously. He was far from who he used to be, which was probably a given, it had been around a decade. That’s when you executed a plan of action to peel away those layers, hoping to find the cute boy that childishly wanted to blindly protect you. 
It was over time you saw progress, seeing him smile at every comment or the little mistakes you couldn’t help but make (you swear to him you’re normally more graceful than that) when he thinks you aren’t looking. You loved that: making him laugh. He has a beautiful smile. And the more you spent time with him, the more it feels he knows you, even bringing things you need without you even having to ask, but what was it you know about him?
“Chan.”
Right on the dot as always. “Yes, your highness.”
“Walk around the garden with me.” You take his hand before he can even answer and had him trodding beside you out of the palace.
“Please slow down, your highness.”
You practically dragged him, it was necessary given the Palace’s size.
“There is very little daylight left. We must make the most of our day. This is a royal order!” You playfully command.
“It is 3 pm, your highness!”
“Royal order!”
You walk side by side with him taking in the air, the freshly cut grass, and hearing the birds sing their sweet melody. Calling it a beautiful afternoon was an understatement. Even after living in the place you call home for so long, there is more that surprises you. “Doesn’t the sky look extra blue today, Chan?”
He softly grins. “It does, your highness.”
You turn your head, watching the smile slip out of view, “Speaking of which, what is your favorite color, Chan?”
He thinks for a moment. “Blue, actually, your highness.”
You offer him a wide grin. “That suits you very well. I’m glad I know that. How was it that you’ve protected me for so long and I never knew that?”
Chan is quiet at that, not sure how to answer.
“My favorite color is green, or was it purple?” You cross your arms in thought, a single finger tapping against your cheek, “Last week it was pink.”
“It should be yellow, your highness. You decided to wear the yellow two-piece today.”
You look down at your attire and confirm his statement, seeing the pretty outfit you properly picked out the day before with Chan. You twirl, watching how the sun reflects off the expensive fabric, “You’re right. Looks like you know me better than I know myself again, but of course.”
His eyes fill with concern. “Does that make you uncomfortable, your highness?”
“No. Not necessarily. It just feels very one-sided. You know so much about me, but I feel like I know so little about you.” You skip ahead of him and you hear his footsteps catching up.
“I apologize, your highness. I never believed it was necessary information.”
“Of course, it is. How am I supposed to trust you if I know nothing about you?” You pointed out nonchalantly.
“I apologize again, your highness. This was careless of me.”
You turn around and let him stand beside him and push him ahead, “Nevermind that. What’s your favorite food?”
He stumbles slightly but does not let the matter phase him, used to you treating him much like a companion rather than the help, “Barbeque.”
“Favorite animal?”
“Otters.”
“Favorite ice cream flavor?”
“Chocolate.”
“Least favorite thing about me?”
“Nothing.”
“Ah ha–oh.” You tilt your head. “Nothing? Seriously?”
“There is nothing to dislike, your highness, and even if there was, I could not speak out on it. However, there isn’t.”
You blink back at him dubiously, an aggressive finger pointing at his chest, “Are you lying, Chan?”
“Not at all, your highness.”
He would have no reason to lie, you thought. And like he said, if he did, he much rather not answer. You stare at him for a little longer, scanning his frame before simply shrugging and continuing your leisure stroll.
“Hmm, alright. Favorite genre of music?”
“...girl group pop.”
Your eyes widen at that, smiling from ear to ear. “No way! Which group?”
The tips of his ears cause a hue of red, spreading all across his cheeks in an instant. “Apink…”
“Ooo, how refreshing. I would’ve never guessed.”
Chan was relieved to hear such a positive and encouraging response, feeling his hairs falter just a little bit, quite enjoying your company. “It’s very encouraging when I train. They lift my spirits.”
You chortle. “That’s quite endearing of you, Chan. I feel like I’m knowing you way better already.”
“That’s a relief, your highness.”
“What else do you like to do in your free time? You spend most of the day with me, even tend to events with me, but I have no idea what you do for fun?”
He was drawing a blank. What did he do worth mentioning? “Mmm, lots of activities. Such as…”
“Such as?” You egg on.
“Such as–-horseback riding, jousting, martial arts–”
You wave the list off. “Save the pleasantries. I mean real hobbies, ones not instilled by the palace. Things that are actually fun.”
“They are fun, you highness…But I guess I do like dancing.”
You perk up once more, strutting backward to talk while facing him, “Dancing? How lovely! You must show me how you move. This instant!”
He grows flustered, knowing they were still very close to the other guards and staff in the palace. He wasn’t sure he felt about showing off his moves this publicly. “Another time, your highness. I feel rather shy at the moment.”
“Oh, but you must, you must! What do you do? Ballroom? Contemporary? Interpretive–Wha!” You feel yourself trip over a rock, falling backward in slow motion, shutting your eyes for impact, until a strong pair of arms prevent you from collapsing.
“Your highness, are you alright?”
Feeling him pull you against his chest, you stare back into the eyes of your savior. His genuine fright and concern peek through his gaze and he grips your build extra firmly. He instinctively frowns, lips quivering anxiously, sweeping your stray hairs away from your face. You naturally melt in his embrace.
You nod, sighing a breath of relief. “I am fine, Chan. Thank you.”
“Who knows what you could’ve landed on.” His gaze scans over the bed of flowers behind you, vibrant and vivacious, “they could be poisonous for all we know.”
You allow yourself to land back on your feet, turning your gaze on the same bed of flowers. “Those are dandelions.”
Chan feels redder than a tomato in August. How is he constantly embarrassing himself, he thought to himself. “Oh. Well, better safe than sorry. Your Highness.”
You chuckle, infatuated by his thought process. “You truly are something, Lee Chan. Your significant other does not have a boring life with you around.”
“I don’t have a significant other, your highness.” 
“That's strange. I’d say you’re at the age to be married or betrothed. Why aren’t you?” You mention, decidedly walking side by side with him.
“Why, my work is the most important thing in my life. I do not have the time to commit myself to someone other than the royal family.”
You raise a brow, “Your father was married and had two kids by your age. If he could do it, I don’t see how you couldn’t.”
“Now, you’re sounding like my mother,” he jokes.
“She is a wise woman.”
He splays a bittersweet smile. “If I’m being honest, I’ve been given a few opportunities, but I don’t believe they can take the place of the person I hold in my heart. No one will.”
You clap your hands together in excitement. “So you are interested in dating? Tell, good sir. Who is the lucky lad or lass?”
“Someone far worthy than I’ll ever be and deserves more than what I can give them.”
You slightly shove him, finding such an assumption doubtful. “Oh please. You’re strong, you’re kind, you’re handsome…anyone would absolutely be ecstatic to have you.”
Chan felt warm all over, taking your words into careful consideration, “Do you truly mean that, your highness?”
“Are you doubting a royal?” You chuckle, “I do. Tell them. I am sure they would happily return your feelings.”
He halts his steps, and you quickly follow, curious about his abrupt actions, “...You ask me why I am still unwedded and untaken. How would you feel if I said you were the reason?”
“No excuses. You can’t use work as an excuse for your lack of love life.” You wag a finger at him.
“Not like that,” He takes your hand in his, bringing it up in mid-air, thumbing over the pristine skin of your knuckles, “How would you feel if I admitted the person I hold dearest to my heart is you, your Highness?”
A gust of wind takes you by surprise, the fallen flowers and leave being picked up with it and fall around you like a picture-esque scene in a movie. Your heart pounds a million times a minute, staring back in awe at his presence, overflowing with love and sincerity, and your eyes flutter from the breathlessness you feel in your chest and throat. You stare at Chan like the first time you were reunited with him, with pure unadulterated infatuation.
“Me, you say? Well, I’d say I was surprised, flabbergasted,…flattered.”
You feel the heat of your cheeks from the back of your free hand. “And inexplicably flustered.”
You release your hand from his grasp, the lingering sensation of his hand on your skin causing you to clench and release, and your heart easily audibly through your eardrums. You look towards the ground, finding it hard to meet your guard’s eyes. “Your choice of humor is rather brass.”
“Your highness–”
“It’s supper time. I must get going. I will see you back at the palace, Chan.”
You make your grand escape, clutching your frills, shielding your face from others in the palace with your arm before heading u to your room. You collapse against the bed, clutching your burning face in a silk pillow, yelling muffled songs of your fluster, reimagining the majestic look on his face when he confessed his feelings. Deep down you knew there was truth in his words, but how could you normally react to something so abrupt from someone so…admirable.
You embrace your pillow, push down your swelling heart, and smile. Tears of bliss fall to your cheeks and you can’t help but kick your feet like an excited schoolgirl.
You find yourself making glances at Chan when you reunite at the dinner. As usual, he does not have dinner with you but he stays by you for your own protection and eats afterward once you’ve finished. He’d look as solemn as he always did in front of other people. He took his job almost too seriously, sometimes even tasting your meal with a separate spoon in case it was poisoned. You used to laugh at his old-fashioned methods of work, there was technology for that sort of thing now, but you finally understand his devotion to his service. There more to meet the eyes, you realize.
When he follows you all the way up to your room for a night's rest, you part ways. You squirm in his presence, his confession fresh in your mind. “Good night, Chan.”
You are ready to run from him until he calls out to you, hesitancy in his voice. You meet his apologetic gaze, regretful of their last close encounter. He wishes you would not see him any differently, that he was simply a lowly guard and protector to you. His feelings towards you would not have changed regardless of your reaction. He knew his place and that was by your side as a human shield.
“Please take no more than a single thought at my confession today. Do not let it diminish my utmost respect and loyalty to the royal family. Have a good slumber, your highness.”
He retreats to his quarters conveniently not too far from your chambers, standing by the door, he gestures for you to enter your room and you obliged, watching his figure disappear behind your door. You fear that the air had changed between you, and perhaps not for the better. Your sleep would be anything but peaceful that night.
“Your highness, Good morning.”
He stands tall and firm with a smile as wide as a river. He holds beside him a fairly large trunk, gripping it by the handle.
You peer at his figure in worry, and earnest fear. “What is this, Chan?”
“I’ve decided to leave the palace forever. I realize my life was being wasted away taking care of someone who could never love me as much as I love them. So, I’ve taken on a lover of the same status.”
As if by magic a common lady appears, taking him by the arm and nuzzling his nose. They look in love, happy, and a sharp pain would shoot through your heart.
“No.” You chant.
“You will never see my face again. Goodbye. Your Highness.”
“Chan, no.”
The image of their silhouette gets smaller and smaller as they walk further away. You fall to your knees in desperation. “Chan please!”
You sob in your sleeves, hands reaching out to their shirking figures until you can only hear the echoes of your pleas.
“CHAN!”
You sit up from your bed, perspiration dampening your forehead and you are flushed to the touch. Clutching your sheets, you sigh a breath of relief that was only a dream. Soon after, your doors swing open, and a panicked guard in his baby blue nighttime attire runs to claim you, “Your Highness. I’m here. I’m here.”
His strong arms wrap tightly around your frame, soothing strokes to your hair, whispering to you it’d be okay. Your hands instinctively hold on to the fabric of his clothes, squeezing the flesh underneath, drinking in his soap’s scent and noticing how pleasant and just to your taste it was. “I know.”
He pulls you away to stare back at you, scanning you for any signs of danger placed upon you.
“I’m okay,” you reassure, “just a bad nightmare.”
“What foul image betrays you to cause such a reaction? I was ready to spar with whatever evil demon tried kidnapping you.”
He must’ve been still asleep, you assume. His colorful vocabulary, wakes you up delightfully.
“I am fine. I promise. Come, I’ll walk you to the door.”
You push him out of bed, meeting the exit, while your guard’s doubts seep out of him like a fountain. 
“Are you sure? Was it truly just a nightmare? Do you need new sheets? A snack to soothe you?”
“Not at all, all good, my good sir. Good night.”
You attempt to push him out completely but he holds you back from doing so, gripping the rims of the bedroom door. “I just want to assure you’re okay, your highness.”
You fall a little deep into those eyes, perceiving the truth of his word in them. It drove you insane how a simple confession could affect you this much. You brighten up your world, open your eyes, and made you feel alive, just like a person in love does. “I am. Just…don’t go anywhere. Stay right where you are.”
He gives a confused smile, his gaze softening the same way your tone does. “But your highness, you were just pushing me away a few seconds ago—“
You tug against his shirt and your lips for the first time make contact, his plush surface meeting yours seamlessly. Your hands clasp over his cheeks and neck, languidly moving them against him. You slowly process how he reciprocates, holding you to his chest tenderly, savoring your warmth, taste, and how it all excited him. The thin fabric between your body was the only thing to stop you, and the world around you simply disappeared. 
Before you both knew it, you were pulling him back into the bedroom. He’d quickly follow, doesn’t leave until the following morning, carrying out what he only imagined in his dreams, even if it was only for the night. It was the matter of his duty to keep you safe, to keep you happy. And he knew he could make you happy.
497 notes · View notes
noisynaia · 1 year
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Driving Home for Christmas
A Modern Mandalorian AU
summary: It's your first Christmas with your son Grogu and you are a little heartbroken that Din won't be home to experience it with you. Din is, however, determined not to miss the holiday with his little family.
word count: 2k
pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader 
note: Title from 'Driving Home for Christmas' by Chris Rea. Just a little thing I wrote in a rush, just a lot of fluff. Adoption, new parents. No use of (y/n). This has not been beta or proofread. English is not my native language.
Happy holidays to all who celebrate! ♥︎
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Din curses under his breath as he rolls the car a few feet forward before the queue again comes to a halt. The red tint from the taillights of the car in front of him is painting his face and the dashboard of the rental in a garnet glow, he turns on the radio to drown out the sound of the windshield wipers. The snow has begun to fall again and he feels stiff and sore after so many hours sitting in the same position behind the wheel. 
He had been sitting in the sad hotel room after just ending a facetime call from you. The view of you and Grogu with his little button nose and big eyes had been too much. The thought of not being able to hold either of you in his arms until the new year had been unbearable, so he stood up and packed his things. There was no way he was going to spend Christmas without the two of you.
It had not been possible to get a flight with such a short notice this close to Christmas eve. Din had made a quick decision, renting the first car he could get his hands on and started on the eight hour drive home. It is not the first Christmas after getting with you, he has had to be away, do to work. He has always hated having to leave you, even though the holiday season is not something Din has ever really cared for; he is usually already over it by the end of November, but that was before he had met you, and becoming a father is what really has tipped his view on the holiday season. He is not going to miss Christmas this year. 
· · ❄︎ · ·
You are staring blankly into the oven where the cookies you have made are baking. You had got up early this morning to get everything ready.
Grogu is sitting in his highchair at the kitchen table, happily munching on the grapes you just had cut for him. It’s around 11 am on the 24th and you have managed to finish about all of the things that needed to be finished by now. All of the gifts have been wrapped, the guest room made ready for your guests and the entire house has been cleaned. You are happy, you are going to spend your first Christmas with Grogu, and even though he is too young to really understand what’s going on you want it to be a good one. But you are feeling a bit sad as well. You had really wished that Din would have been home to experience it with you… 
You know how bad he feels when he has to leave for work, but this time had been especially bad. It has been a recurring thing through your entire relationship and, even though you miss him when he is gone, you have never had a problem with it. That has changed after adopting Grogu, Din’s absence feels stronger now, and you know that Din is feeling awful every time he has to go. He had looked sad when you had facetimed in the morning, his eyes had told you how bad he wanted to be home, he had smiled for Grogus sake, but you know him too well and can look through his facade.                   
You are lost in thoughts about Din and how you had hoped he was here with you right now when the sound of the doorbell brings you back to reality. You get yourself together and pick Grogu, who has just finished his snack, up from his chair and settle him on your hip, bringing him with you to the door to let your guests in.
Peli is standing in the door with a giant smile on her face, Greef is standing behind her, his face and torso completely hidden behind the crazy amount of presents he is holding in his arms that you know most of are for Grogu. Peli and Greef are not Din’s real parents, but they might as well be, and they definitely have taken on the role as grandparents after you and Din have gotten Grogu.               
“Look who is here Grogu!” You say to your son, bouncing him gently on your hip. 
“Is that my big boy!” Peli exclames, holding her arms out for him.    
The little boy hides his face in the crook of your neck as you greet your guests and lovingly scolds them for going way overboard with the gifts, but it doesn’t take long before he peeks out from his hiding spot, offering Peli and Karga a shy smile and a little ‘hi’. He is usually a total chatterbox, often cooing and babbling to you and Din or at his beloved frog stuffie, but he hasn’t really begun talking yet. His vocabulary contains of about five words which are; hi, which he uses generously when shyness doesn’t overtake him. Tanks, his version of thanks, which he also is using a lot, he really is a polite little boy. Then there is booie, which he happily squeals every time his favourite cartoon dog is on the tv. Fog, which is his version of the word frog, (his favourite animal) he might have an unfortunate pronunciation, but he is so cute when he says it that it doesn’t matter. And last but not least ‘patu’ which neither you or Din can figure out what actually means, but the little boy loves saying it and it has a very cute sound to it.  
“Don’t go all shy on me now! We were best of friends the last time I saw you.” Peli whines and Grogu is luckily quick to lose the last of his shyness, sticking his little arms out for Peli to hold him. You hand him over and instead take some of the many gifts from Greef so he can get through the door and get his coat off.  
· · ❄︎ · · 
The four of you are having a cosy day together. You decorated cookies and went for a walk in the snow, Grogu had laughed every time a snowflake landed on his nose or one of his cute chubby cheeks, you truly are grateful for seeing him being such a happy little boy. You and Greef are in the kitchen now, the cheerful sound of Ella Fitzgerald's ‘Santa Claus Got Stuck in My Chimney’ sounding from the radio while Peli is playing with Grogu in the living room. You are preparing the potatoes and side dishes while Greef is in charge of the meat. You can’t help but tell him about how you wish Din could have been here with you all, allowing yourself to feel a little sad again now that Peli is distracting Grogu. 
“I know that he wishes he could be here too.” Din’s father figure assures you with a sympathetic look.     
“But do you think he would be willing to give it up ?” You can’t help but ask, you know how much Din cares about his work, but him missing out on important things with Grogu doesn’t make it seem worth it to you. 
Greef is about to open his mouth to answer you when you are interrupted by the glow from a pair of headlights from your driveway which surprises you, you’re not expecting any other guests and you have never heard of Christmas carolers coming by car. You only get to wonder who it can be for a few seconds before you hear the doorbell ring. You remove your apron and wipe your hands on a dishtowel before you go to open the front door. The surprise of who is standing on the doorstep is overwhelming and you can barely believe that he is real. In front of you stands a very tired looking Din, his hair is messy and he. You are standing frozen by shock and surprise for a few seconds before you crash forward into his arms. He hugs you tight against his chest and you feel your eyes getting watery. 
“What are you doing here?” You croak through happy tears. 
“I came home for Christmas.” He says it so matter of factly that you can’t help but laugh. 
“But what about-” You begin, but are cut off by his lips being pressed against your own. 
“It’s not worth it, not if I’ll have to miss out on this.” He whispers into your mouth as he gently caresses your cheekbone with his knuckles.   
You are completely engulfed by Din’s embrace and so dumbfounded by the fact that he’s here that you make a little jump of surprise when a loud happy shriek is heard from behind you. In the door stands Peli with Grogu in her arms whose face is about to be split in half by the giant smile on his face. Karga stands behind them with a hand on Peli’s shoulder, smiling warmly still wearing his Rudolfh the reindeer apron. 
Grogu is fidgeting in Peli’s arms and she sets him down and the second he makes contact with the floor he excitedly whaddle-runs towards you on his little toddler legs. The view of your little boy running up to you makes you feel like your heart might burst. And even though a part of you wants to never be released from Din’s embrace, you have no hard feelings when Din let go of you to kneel down and take his sons into his arms. Grogu laughs loudly as Din stands up, planting a kiss on his son's chubby cheek and blows a raspberry for good measure. 
“Missed you too buddy.” Your husband says in the gentlest of voice as Grogu plants a tiny hand on each of Din’s cheeks. “Pa!” He shrieks happily at Din, probably too excited to pronounce his usual ‘patu’ you assume, but then he catches you by surprise as he happily exclaims an almost perfect. “Papa!” 
Grogu laughs at Din’s surprised face, before turning his head to look at you with a proud look on his little face. From your eyes, that already were damp by the surprise of Din’s homecoming, fresh warm tears are falling down your face. Din makes a choked sound from deep inside his chest and looks at you, his entire face lit up and his warm brown eyes blown wide by surprise and happiness. “Did you hear that?!” 
“Yeah, I did.” You nod with a big smile on your face. 
Din takes a step over to you, holding Grogu with one arm and sliding the other one around you, holding the two most important people in his life tight. 
The three of you stand like this for a long moment before Grogu gets impatient and begins to wiggle to be sat down. Din obliges, setting him down on the doormat from where he walks back to Peli and Greef who both have big smiles on their faces. You and Din stay for a brief moment, needing a little moment alone before going in to join them. Din holding you tight as he wipes away a tear from under your eye with a gentle thumb 
“I can’t believe you’re here.” You whisper.
Din kiss your lips softly before answering. “Me neither, but I just couldn’t miss this.” He shakes his head lightly, the corner of his eyes shining with dampness. You can’t believe how lucky you are to have him, he had had a hard time showing his emotions in the beginning of your relationship, but he has always had a big and loving heart and getting to see him getting more and more comfortable with showing and sharing his emotions over the years has been such a beautiful journey.  
 “I love you so much Mesh’la.” He says bringing your hand up to his mouth to leave a kiss in the palm of your hand.
“I love you too Din.” 
He kisses your lips again before leading you through the door hand in hand to go inside and celebrate Christmas with your little family.       
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WIBTA for not getting my coworkers holiday gifts?
Sorry in advance for the long ask, I have adhd so I'm not always great at figuring out what's relevant to the topic lmao. I (29M) have been working at my current workplace since I graduated college (so ~7 years). For the first few years I worked pretty much alone. I have a close working relationship with my supervisors, and I have a lot of interns filter through, but I was the only person at my 'level' of work, if that makes sense. I would write cards for my supervisors, and with my interns I would do something like bake cookies for everyone, or take them all out for dinner (to clarify I always have at minimum 3-4 interns, I wasn't just taking someone I was in charge of out for a one on one dinner lmao).
Last year, four more people were hired who work in the same position/level as me (early 20s-mid 30s, all F). I get along with them alright as coworkers, but they are all much closer with each other than I am with them. They didn't know eachother before starting here, but I make a lot of effort keeping distance between my work and personal life, vs they have all become friends outside of work. I also have enough issues with them that I wouldn't want to be friends with them outside of work (very condensed version is that I am openly aroace and they are Weird about it). I am firm about keeping boundaries/distance though and that makes it easier to deal with them.
Again, we work together really well when we're actually talking about work-- it's just the non-work stuff that I don't really vibe with. Also, their level of friendship is very normal in our workplace/field, since we are in a very very rural area where the tiny little town we're in is almost entirely centered around the one industry/company that we're at. The fact that I'm not friends outside of work with my coworkers gives me a reputation for being weird/cold (but I don't care if I seem weird as long as it means I can keep some distance).
Last year, we all talked about Xmas gifts, and decided that we wouldn't get each other anything, but rather just pitch in for some wine and fancy pastries for a mini office party. It was nice, except then right before Christmas I found a gift on my desk from one of them (like, a 50$ gift, which is quite expensive considering how much we make). I asked her about it, saying I appreciated it but didn't have anything since we agreed not to get eachother gifts. She said something like she didn't expect anything, just wanted to get me something. I thanked her and but was uncomfortable enough that I ended up giving the thing to a friend of mine (who knew it was a re-gift and was happy to have it lol). I didn't plan to get anything, except then I found out that the other three had all consequently gotten eachother and me gifts as a result of her. I talked to the one coworker I get along best with, and she agreed with me that it would now be rude to not give anything in return, so I just got everyone relatively impersonal gifts (books).
However, finances are tight this year for me (coworkers don't know that) due to some medical bills. We are doing an office cookie exchange, and again agreed not to get each other gifts, but one of them (same one who started this last year) hinted that she had 'a little something' for each of us anyways, but no need to reciprocate.
If it's relevant, we are in the US, all white, and all varying degrees of atheist/agnostic/ex-christian.
No idea if this will even get out of the queue before Xmas lol but: WIBTA if i stuck to our agreement to not get my coworkers Christmas gifts, even if they get me gifts anyways?
What are these acronyms?
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moonchats · 1 year
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glue song - S.R
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summary: where spence has a dance with you :)
warnings: major fluff, reader is also an agent,spencer’s bi because just because the writers can take it away doesn’t mean it’s staying away,
*reader is gender neutral and description isn’t described!*
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Your home was homey, green walls and dim litted rooms, it made you in awe of it every-time you walked through the door. It made you smile even more when you realise your boyfriend lived in your dream home without you ever knowing.
You and Spence were close before you finally got together, you two were the best of friends, you sat across from him for 3 years feeling sorry for yourself as he talks about a girl he kissed, or a guy he liked wallowing in self pity, wishing it was you he chose to care for, and wish was there when he awoke. And finally your wish came true. And it had been the best years of your life.
Both of you had the day off, you decided to spend finishing up research and baking while Spence had took himself on a walk to the bookstore on the corner before he got groceries. Chocolate fudge cake, with sprinkles of course, was a favourite of Spencer’s so you decided to make it regularly, and any left overs were greatly appreciated by the rest of your team, which is what you were making now. Spencer and you were insanely alike, both of you loving doing your own thing but in the company of each other, more like shared silence, but both of you still needed recharge time and you both have your own ways of doing it.
Their was cocoa powder all over the kitchen, and cake mix on your face, but with the sound of music humming from the record player throughout the appartement, nothing could diminish such a good mood. With birds lightly chirping from the gutter above the window, and the sun shining on the ever growing collection of books, it was a perfect day.
As if on queue, Spencer walked through the door as soon as you thought of perfect, holding bags of groceries and a smile on his face. “Isn’t this a sight for sore eyes” he gushed, heat rushing to your cheeks, as he placed the groceries on the counter placing a kiss to the top of your head.
“Well hello” You smiled towards him, he wore a light washed pair of jeans with a thin jumper along with his shirt and tie, with the glasses that make you smitten, “,this should be done in about 40 minutes”
The glow on his face was nothing but appreciation, an appreciation of you, and your love for him, “I love you” He smiled, a thank you from him.
“I didn’t even do anything”
“Yeah, but you’re here and so i love you” He responded, your heart full.
The piano started, from a track you both adored, ‘Hooked on romance’ from the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra filled the room. You looked him in the eye, “Dance with me?”
“Dance with yo-, I can’t dance, i can barely stand without falling” He chuckled, you smacked his shoulder lightly, pleading with him with your eyes, “Fine but you can’t judge me.”
His fingers lightly grasped yours before he pulled you into him to rest your head on his shoulder, as you swayed with him to the song, before he pulled away from you, holding on to your hand to spin you around before pulling you back to him. Your head instantly rested onto him again,
“I feel like i’m stuck to you, like i cant think of my life without you” You whispered.
“Then don’t, stop acting like you’ll become a ghost of my memory, i’m here for you, till forever” He rubbed your back and you both carried on swaying.
A smile appeared on your face, which he felt grow against his chest “Then I guess i’m stuck forever”
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by the glue OH AND YOUUUU!!!
also the song they danced too was
it’s on of my fav tracks of all time, please give it a listen if you get time i promise it won’t be a bad decision!!
also, i’m making all my ‘x Reader’ fics gender neutral from now on, i try to limit the description on the reader as much as i can so be as inclusive as possible, please let me know anywhere else i can make it more inclusive with my language
and also please lmk if you enjoyed, spencer is a very comforting character so i love writing fluff for him because it comes to me so easily!!! - Love you to the Moon and back xx
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goron-king-darunia · 6 months
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Eggtober 29th 2023
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"Tell Me More": Korean Egg Bread or Gyeran-ppang
(Clip Studio Paint, Gouache Brush, Gouache Blender, Overlay adjustment layers to get the crispy brown bits to look right. 16 colors? 45 ish minutes.)
Egg 2 for today. You get the 3rd egg I did tomorrow. Gonna queue it.
So yeah, didn't know humans already invented the perfect food. Bread with an egg on top. What more can I say? I've seen a couple recipes suggest additions like sausage, bacon, or cheese. The main bread recipe seems to be a sweet vanilla flavor, so I guess this just tastes like the best savory-sweet brekkie combo? I want to try it so bad.
But alas, I'm stuck drawing it until I clean up enough space to make some at home. We have a marble slab counter specifically for bread baking and bread pans and everything, I just never have space because our kitchen is chaos. But maybe someday~
I wonder how @lady-quen's breadbugs will go about tackling this treat?
Smacking the @ for @quezify again. Imagine me aggressively dinging a service bell, but not in a demanding way. More in a "Finish line! You can do it! Almost there!" way!
SPEED PAINT TIME!
There is a brief stage where, admittedly, the egg white looks like that danish cheese filling instead of egg white (to put it very politely) so yes, I do see it. But shush, it quickly looks like egg and then delicious so don't @ me. XD
Speaking of which I cleaned up that meme image I made about Eggtober 1st 2023. I'll slap that under a cut just in case I need it...
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I swear guys, my eggs accidentally looking suggestive is not on purpose even if that would be incredibly funny. But hey, 3 people saying a thing made me draw my ancient video game blorbo and the silly Chopper meme, so there's that. XD (The meme is free to use with credit, by the way.)
If you haven't seen the reason for the meme, here it is.
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