my crush is only getting worse

anonymous asked:

honestly, my favourite tony trope is him surviving so much bullshit that everyone starts to believe that he's actually immortal. Villains start just giving up on actually killing him, and either incapacitate him or make sure he's unavailable when they start the fight. Some of the more egotistical ones go out of their way to try. There's many conspiracy theories about him, and how it's possible that he's survived. One of his favourite pastimes is reading the more outlandish ones. (Tree)

Listen. It’s common knowledge among the villains of the world. If you’re anywhere close to being a professional Badguy, then you’ve heard the stories. You know the rumours.

Tony Stark Does Not Die. So for God’s sake, do not be stupid enough to try.

Some of the newbies, they ask. They wonder why no-one tries to shoot a fatal hit, why they never even bother to go for Iron Man. 

The older, more weary villains just roll their eyes and mutter “don’t wanna waste my firepower. Save your shots for the ones that will actually stay dead, kid,”

“That asshole crawled out of a cave with a hole in his chest and still managed to kick everyone’s ass,” someone pipes up moodily from the corner.

There’s a sudden bang as a hand slaps on the counter, and the newbie turns to see another grim-looking villain.“I once shot straight through him. Laser right through the stomach. You know what that piece of shit did?” The guy gestures to his lack of foot. “He Goddamn turned around and shot my leg off! and then he just sort of looked down and shrugged at his own fatal wound. He told me I had it worse, and that he was ‘sorry’. Who even does that?”

“I crushed him,” says another, “he just buried out the other way and then caught me a day later. It took me years to get out of prison.”

“I planted a virus in his suit while he was thousands of miles above sea, and not only did he defend it, but he traced my source and sent it back. Thousands and thousands of dollar’s worth of tech, gone,” someone shouts miserably from across the room. “He didn’t even have a fucking keyboard! Every line of code was verbal! He spoke and memorised those lines faster than I could type them, and I goddamn invented the thing!”

A bottle of… something, flies across the room. Obviously everyone is very bitter about this.

The newbie, because they’re always like this at the start; over-confident and stiflingly cocky, puffs their chest and looks them all in the eye. “you just haven’t been thinking about it hard enough. I’ll kill him. Just watch.”

Everyone descends into hysterical laughter. Someone is crying. No one in the room is Okay. 

“Whatever you say, whatever you think or plan, he’s one step ahead. Don’t, for your sake, please. Take Thor. Or Cap. Or maybe the Widow, if you’re feeling brave? But just… don’t waste your time with him. Try and keep him away, instead. That’s all we can ask for,” says someone next to her, obviously taking pity.

“He might be smart, but he’ll have no idea what’s coming when I step on the scene!” Newbie growls. “Listen-”

A few miles across, Tony Stark listens to the whole conversation via a bug he planted in the known Villain Hiding-Spot, and smiles smugly.

“Damn straight,” he mutters, before calling in the rest of the Avengers to gloat.

sourcatsmiles  asked:

"You love me, right?" For Ladynoir

It was not the way he expected it to go down. Which, honestly, was rather impressive because in the past two years of their partnership Chat Noir must have plotted out at least 50 different possible scenarios in which he finally heard the coveted words. 

They had been joking around, legs swinging off the edge of of the parapet and laughing, enjoying the warm breeze. 

“Come on, you can’t tell me that your birthday is this week and not let me get you a present,” Chat whined, “what sort of partner would I be.” 

“The last thing I need for my birthday is a dead rat on my doorstep,” Ladybug teased as she once again failed to do a Jacob’s ladder with her Yo-yo. She scowled down at her weapon and Chat had to bite back a laugh. There was something incredibly endearing about the fact that for all the truly amazing things she had done with the magical item, she couldn’t seem to get the hang of a simple trick. 

“Ah, but you know that I won’t be giving you that, because I don’t know where your doorway is,” Chat grinned, “so your argument against my giving you a gift is invalid.” 

She rolled her eyes, but he could see her fighting back a smile. 

“Come on,” he whispered, dropping his chin onto her shoulder, “I’ll get you anything you want.” 

“Anything?” she asked, twisting her head to look at him and causing their noses to brush together. 

“Cross my heart and swear not to die, because I already promised you I wouldn’t after what happened last month.” 

She narrowed her eyes at him, her lips twisting into the disapproving pout that had become one of his favorite expressions. Not that he had a lack of those where she was concerned. Still, this particular look of fond annoyance was easily in the top 20. 

“Please?” he cajoled, stretching out the vowels like a hopeful child asking for a new toy. 

She looked away and Chat smiled. If she couldn’t meet his eyes it meant she was caving. 

“If Mayor Bourgeois is allowed to give you a statue, the least I should be allowed to do is get you a birthday present,” he whispered, trying not to fist pump as he saw her bite her lower lip. Victory was almost assured at this point. “Please?” he said again. 

“Anything?” she asked hesitantly. 

“Anything,” he assured her in the same quiet voice while internally he screamed in triumph. In fact he would probably be annoying Plagg later with his obligatory victory dance. 

Ladybug said nothing, continuing to stare out into the night, but Chat had learned patience was the key to these sorts of moods, so he simply waited, his head continuing to lull against her shoulder. 


“Yes My Lady?”

“You love me right?” 

He felt his breath catch in his throat. He knew she didn’t mean it the way he wanted her to. It was a friendly statement, a joking lead-in to a request that usually meant she was insecure about something. It wasn’t the first time she had said it, but he still couldn’t help but be affected by the words. 

“Of course, to the end of my nine lives and beyond,” he said, his tone light despite the rapid pounding of his heart. 

“And you won’t make fun of me?” she said, with just enough of a tremor in her voice to belie her playful smile. 

“Never. Cat’s honor.” 

She took a deep breath and reached her hand up to pull at the collar of her suit. 

“What are you doing?” Chat squawked his face turning beet red as her fingers slide beneath the fabric and down towards her collar bone. 

She gave him a bemused smirk as she pulled out a carefully folded note, much to Chat’s simultaneous relief and dismay. 

“Never figured you for a prude,” she said tapping him on the nose with the paper. 

“What is so important that you felt the need to carry it around under your suit?” he grumbled, then instantly regretted his outburst when her shoulders hunched slightly. “Is it a picture of me? Admit it you pull it out to stare at it when I am not around.” He gave her his most salacious smirk and she gave him a playful shove, the momentary flash of doubt replaced with amusement. He mentally high fived himself on the nice save. Another thing to brag to Plagg about when they got home. 

“No. It’s a letter.” 

“I assume you are either going to elaborate, or you have decided to pursue a lifelong dream of becoming the world’s greatest calligrapher.” 


“Never mind, you never did appreciate my sense of humor.” 

“It’s a letter for my crush.” 

His heart sank. 

“It’s stupid,” she said hurriedly, “it’s not even signed. I don’t know what is wrong with me that I can’t even bring myself to give him an anonymous love letter. I stupidly thought that maybe I would get lucky and could run in to him as Ladybug and maybe then I could…” she trailed off with a miserable laugh that broke his heart far worse than her infatuation with someone else. 

“My Lady-” 

“It’s horrible,” she cried, scooting back just enough so that she could look at him, “seriously, you have no idea how pathetic I have been.” 

“Come on it can’t be that bad.”

“For months I couldn’t even speak a complete sentence in front of him,” she wailed, “much less tell him how I feel!” 

“That’s totally normal.” 

“Oh, it get’s better. Because I wasn’t just content to make a fool of myself. No then I compensated by getting worse! My room is plastered with pictures of him. I have one framed on my nightstand!” 

“You are hardly the first person alive to go overboard about a crush,” Chat said thinking of his own hoard of fangirls that had only increased as he edged closer to adulthood.” 

“I wrote down his schedule on my calendar. In detail! Every time I learned something new, up it would go in big swirly cursive with little hearts and everything.” 

“OK, that’s admittedly a little weirder,” Chat winced, although he was somewhat amused at the image of her dotting little hearts all over the place, “still it could be-” 

“I stole his phone!”

“OK yeah, you’re crazy.”

“I told you. Instead of just confessing to him like a normal person I turned into,” she gestured helplessly at herself, “this.” 

“But at least you admit it,” he said kindly. “and if need be I can get you the name of an excellent therapist.” 

She gave him a weak smile, and he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into a gentle hug. 

“I thought if I could just give him this letter, even if he didn’t know it was from me, then I could… I donnow, not move on exactly but, get better, maybe?” 

She fiddled with the piece of paper in her hand and somehow, seeing her like this- relaxed and vulnerable, and just a little bit insane- made him love her even more. 

Maybe they would never amount to anything. Maybe she would end up with this mystery crush, or the next one. But in that moment Chat knew that he would never regret loving this girl. He would be happy to stay by her side in whatever way she needed him. That would be enough. 

“Do you want me to give it to him for you?” he asked, any regret he might have felt vanishing at the hopeful look that sprang to her eyes. 

“Would you?” 

“Of course Bugaboo. Although, if this turns into some sort of wacky rom-com where he thinks that I am the secret admirer and starts chasing after my dazzling good looks and unparalleled charm, you are not allowed to make it my fault.” 

“Ok,” she laughed, leaning her head back against his shoulder with a sigh that he could swear reverberated in his very soul. 

“So who am I delivering this to anyways?” he asked a little shakily carefully plucking the letter from her and slipping into into the pocket of his suit. “Who is this dashing rogue who has turned you into a literal lovesick schoolgirl?” 

“Adrien Agreste,” she confessed with a blush. “I’m in love with Adrien Agreste.” 

It was definitely not how he had expected things to go down. Never in a million years would he have dreamed up this scenario when he finally heard the coveted words- his name on her tongue, her voice saying that she loved him, HIM, of all people. 

It was not what he expected- but damn if it still wasn’t the greatest moment in his life. 

Look who’s back to her 4 word prompts! On to the next one! (Not taking any new ones just finishing up the ones I have.

The Reveal We All Needed...

Before you start reading I just want to say… this is EXACTLY what it looks like… and probably what none of you are expecting XD So Enjoy, and remember, all blame goes to @marinette-buginette and @mr-hawkmoth who both gave me the idea for drunk shenanigans… 

And before you ask, I regret nothing.

Gabriel Agreste was a great many things. The leader of a fashion empire that he had built up from the dust. A powerful, influential figure within the city of Paris. Once, a loving husband. Occasionally a stern father. Recently, a man obsessed with gaining the power held by the Miraculous, the villain known as Hawkmoth.

But for the moment he was completely and utterly shit-faced.

“Aide-y Dream! We need to have a talk!”

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Tree Bros: Dead Girl(Boy) Walking

Fandom: Dear Evan Hansen 

Characters: Evan Hansen and Connor Murphy 

Rating: T 

Authors Notes: Ok so I’m really into both DEH and Heathers. One fateful day I watched a Heather’s anamatic followed by a DEH Waving Through A Window aniamatic that had the ‘school shooter chic’ thing and this fanfic was born. This is more mature than most of my fanfics, cause Heathers. So fair warning, it is the Dead Girl Walking scene and Connor is playing JD and Evan is Veronica. If you don’t know Heathers, go watch dead girl walking and then come read this. It won’t make sense otherwise. There is no smut, it’s all the on stage stuff, but it gets a little hot and heavy.

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Yesterday on Plotdale...

I rewrote yesterday’s scenes in terms of Plot (cause I can’t stop the snark)


[Robert in the pub on the phone] 
ROBERT: Don’t mess me around Bex, we have to meet to discuss our plot. It’s very important. […] Yes, we have to meet at the scene of the incident. It’s very important that we continue to cause the audience a maximum amount of pain. Be there…half past…or else. 

[The pub with Robert, Aaron and Charity with a baby…just as a reminder of where this is all going]
ROBERT: Aaron, I can’t go with you to counseling right now. I have a plot…I mean work crisis I have to attend to.
AARON: (Clearly should know work crisis is code for plot) Are you sure? I really need you there Robert, because the writers have taken away my entire support system so that you’re all I have left.
ROBERT: Sounds about right. Now I’ll just go take care of this plot thing and meet you there. *cheek kiss* - for the fans 

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I’ll Fix Ya Right Up Eggsy Unwin x Reader

Pairings: Eggsy Unwin x Reader

Warnings: Language

Written by: @garyunwinimagines​​ also goes by @chipedenspook1997​​

Notes: Sorry it’s been so long. But here’s something else for you guys. And I’m opening requests for the next two days. Requests will close at 12:00PM on April 7th, 2017. I hope that you guys like this!

Words: 988 words

You were currently on an inversion table trying to stretch your back as it’s been hurting and you haven’t been able to crack it. So here you were hanging upside down, past vertical. You slowly started to feel your back stretch out, and it felt wonderful. You were feeling very relaxed and in less pain.

“What ya doin’ (y/n)?” Eggsy asked.

After V-day, Merlin wanted you, Eggsy, and Roxy to live together as the three of you could still be possible targets. It made sense, and now the three of you were inseparable. When you all were in your “job interview”, you got a crush on Eggsy. Roxy knew but the man was completely oblivious. Living with him only made it worse, cause most the time he’d walk around in baggy sweatpants and a t-shirt. Which is what he was currently wearing. Thankfully your face was already red from being upside down.

“Just trying to fix my shit back,” You groaned.

“And that’s supposed to help” Get offa there. I’ll fix ya right up,” He said.

More like smirked. And that’s when you realized that your shirt had bunched up right under your breasts.

“Gary Unwin!” You fake gasped. “And I thought that you were a gentleman!”

He laughed, “We both know that I ain’t no gentleman, but come on (y/n). Don’t want ya falling over on a mission now do we?”

He has a valid point.

“Fine…” You grumbled and slowly made yourself upright again and got off the table.

“So what are you going to do to me?” You asked.

He hugged his solders then grabbed your hand and lead you to his room. You raised an eyebrow and he looked at his feet. The mood had changed from a light and playful one, to a more serious, but dare you say romantic one. What was going on?

He walked to one of the drawers in his nightstand and pulled out…oils? Why does he have oils in there? You were so lost in your mind that you didn’t hear what he said the first time.

“Love, did ya here me? (y/n)?”

“Sorry. I was just lost in my head. What did ya say?”

“I need you to take of your shirt then lay on your stomach.”

You raised your eyebrow again, then you turned around and took off your shirt and laid down how he asked. You closed your eyes and slowed down your breathing, that was until you felt the bed dip on both sides and Eggsy sitting on your thighs.

“Can I?” He asked gesturing to your bra.

You said yes then he went to take off your bra, unclasping it so you could do the rest yourself. You debated leaving it there unhooked, but decided that you’d be more comfortable without it there. So you sat up just enough to toss the bra to the floor. Then a gasp was heard.

“Fucking finally!” Roxy said. “No pun intended.”

She was grinning from ear to ear. You rolled your eyes.

“He’s just going to give me a massage Rox,” You said.

“Sure…” She drawled out as she left the room and shut the door.

“Why’d she say that?” Eggsy said with a tinge of red across his cheeks.

“Don’t know,” You replied mentally cursing Roxy.

“Don’t forget to use protection!” Roxy yelled.

“Shit,” Eggsy said loud enough that Roxy could here.

“What?” You said and looked back at him.

He had a shit eating grin cross his face and mouthed “follow my lead”. You knew that this was going to be fun, and that Rox is going to be pissed when/if she finds out.

“I forgot rubbers,” You had to refrain from laughing your ass off as he pulled out a box of rubber gloves that was empty.

“Fuck Eggsy. I need you right now babe. Rubbers or not.”

“(y/n), love, are you sure?”


By this time you were now sitting up against the headboard with Eggsy right by you. A pillow tightly clutched against your chest. So the two of you were sitting side by side making some of the most pornographic noises that you could think of. When the two of you started there was lots of laughing, but the longer it went on the less laughing happened. And holy shit did that turn you on. You wouldn’t be normally, but the way his voice dropped with the combination of his grunts drenched your panties. Now it came to the grand finale, and the two of you “climaxed”. There was silence for 30 seconds.

“I take that back! Don’t do it again!” Roxy yelled from the other side of the door. “We don’t need your offspring quite yet!”

She slid some condoms under the door. The lighter mood from earlier returned as Eggsy wiggled his eyebrows. You held in your laughter until her footsteps faded away.

Now queue the uncontrollable laughter. Once your laughter died down Eggsy kissed your cheek. You blushed and laid down how you were earlier. Promptly burring your face in the pillow to recompose yourself.

“Aren’t you going to give me a massage?” You asked remembering why you were in his room topless.

“Oh yeah,” He said and scratched the back of his neck.

“Did you forget?”

“No…yeah. But love, you’re laying in my bed topless,” He said as if it was obvious. Like no shit Sherlock.

“So? You said that you were going to fix my back,” You pouted.

“But-“ You cut him off by turning around and sitting up to kiss him. No pillow this time.

He was thrown off for a second, then started kissing you back. You could feel the smiles creeping up on your faces. The kiss was slow and gentle. Taking all the breath out of you. When the need to breathe came back, you pulled away and grinned at him.

Resituating yourself you said, “Now fix my back Gary Unwin.”

“Anything for you love.”

Star Butterfly Deserves Better in Season 3

As Star vs The Forces of Evil - Season 3 is coming out on summer, my only hope, my only WISH that Star, a another dimension fourteen-year-old  gets better in season 3 after what she has gone through! 

Like seriously, that girl has to go through so much in her life

She has to break her family wand, in order to save Marco 

Originally posted by suzlovesdisney

Originally posted by lovingfucks

Ludo/Toffee stole the book of spell and  Glossaryck

Originally posted by resotii93

She has to except the fact that her best friend, a boy that she has on a crush on, Marco Diaz, is already in a relationship with Jackie Lynn Thomas

Originally posted by golfalphamike

Originally posted by make-some-manna

What’s WORSE is that she has to leave her friends, including Marco, probably forever because the return of Toffee 

Originally posted by spellthief

Originally posted by dazthedazzler

Like please. PLEASE LET STAR BE HAPPY AGAIN LIKE FIRST SEASON! I can’t stand seeing her so upset 

Originally posted by all-you-need-is-spn




canadianwheatpirates  asked:

[small nudge] if you're out of stuff to do i left you a reply on a requests post a couple days back asking for fic of Alex healing and growing after cutting Eliza out of her life ('cause of the emotional abuse). no pressure or anything i just. yeah. mother's day was last weekend and yesterday was the 1yr of me not talking to my own mother for the same reasons, and I doubt I'm the only person who's having Feelings about all this rn lmao. still think you're awesome btw.

She never recognized the pattern.

Never recognized the pattern, and J’onn waited patiently for her to figure it out on her own, not wanting to violate her privacy by sharing the insights he got by how damn loudly his Earth daughter thinks.

Because she thinks very loudly, on the mornings after her phone calls with Eliza.

She thinks very loudly, and her thinking is about how inadequate she is. How imperfect. How disappointing.

And she never recognized the pattern, but she would bruise her knuckles in training, and she would work the new DEO recruits harder, and she would work herself so hard she nearly vomited.

Always on the days that followed the nights she talked to her mother.

She never noticed the pattern, but Maggie does.

Maggie notices and Maggie cleans up the glass when Alex throws her bourbon at the opposite wall, and Maggie makes a note to bring up her drinking after they process this latest call with her mother, this latest fight, this latest abuse.

Maggie holds her when she sobs apologies and Maggie holds her when she begs forgiveness and Maggie knows that it’s not only Maggie she’s seeking forgiveness from.

It’s Eliza, yes, but it’s Kara, and it’s Jeremiah.

Because in Alex’s eyes – after she talks to Eliza, anyway – she reliably believes that she’s failed them both.

So Maggie holds her and Maggie gently refuses to make love to her even when Alex begs for it, begs hard and begs long; refuses because Alex has liquor on her breath and tears in her eyes, and Maggie won’t, ever, take advantage of that.

Even with Alex begging her to fuck away her inadequacy. To make her feel worthwhile. To make her feel good enough.

Maggie focuses on making her feel good enough in other ways. 

Whispered words and soft kisses all over her face, strong arms and gentle touches.

And when it’s morning and Alex wakes up with distant eyes and a vacant voice, Maggie asks her.

Asks her, in a small voice – terrified that Alex will be furious with her, will leave her, will think she’s accusing Alex of being a bad daughter, a bad person – if she’s ever considered cutting Eliza out of her life. At least for a little while.

Alex doesn’t yell and Alex doesn’t snap at her. She doesn’t reach for bourbon. Instead, she collapses back down onto the bed and she reaches for Maggie’s hand.

“But wouldn’t I be a terrible daughter if I did that? I mean, my mom, she’s not… she… she hugged me when I came out, Maggie, she… she’s so good to you, and she loves me, and she paid for college, and med school, and she loves me, she really does, she would be crushed if I stopped talking to her. Wouldn’t it be mean? Wouldn’t it just make things worse? I mean, I only get upset when we talk because I overreact and I’m oversensitive – ”

“Alex Danvers. You are not oversensitive and you don’t overreact to your mom. You respond to her. Rationally. It’s rational for you to feel like you have to be perfect – to hold yourself to impossible and unhealthy standards – because of everything she expects from you. You respond to her telling you that you’re not good enough, that everything that happens with Kara is your fault. Alex, your mom… you’re right. She probably loves you. Fine. But that doesn’t make her a great parent, or even a good one. Her loving you doesn’t make her good at loving you: it doesn’t make you two have a healthy relationship.”

“But I can’t just cut her off, Maggie. Then everything would be my fault.”

“No. Nothing would be your fault, Ally. You’d just be asserting what you need. You’d be doing what’s right for you. And you’d be setting a new standard for how your mom has to treat you.”

Alex bites the inside of her cheek and she thinks and she listens and she argues and she thinks some more.

She tells Eliza that she needs to take some time away from their relationship a couple of weeks later. Tells her that she doesn’t know how long it’s going to take, but to please leave their contact in her control. 

She stops training so hard she throws up right away; but at first, she doesn’t understand why.

It’s easier for her to stick to one beer, once in a while, socially, rather than half a bottle of bourbon, often, on her own; but at first, she doesn’t understand why.

She also doesn’t understand, at least not at first, why she stops – slowly, slowly – blaming herself when Kara has a bad day. She doesn’t stop caring, and she doesn’t stop trying to make her little sister feel better, but the pit in her stomach, gnawing, ripping, that Kara’s bad day – whatever the reason – is her fault, her fault, her fault, starts diminishing. She barely notices when it disappears almost completely, the healing is so gradual.

She surrounds herself with a little sister who adores her and a girlfriend who supports her and a father who is unfailingly proud of her and brothers who tease her but always, always, always love her.

She surrounds herself with affirmation and she surrounds herself with validation, and after a while, she realizes that she’s not waking up with such burning loathing for herself anymore.

It takes time – it takes years – but eventually, when she’s laying awake with Maggie sleeping in her arms, she realizes that she really loves the person she is.

It feels strange and it feels unfamiliar, but god, god, god, does it feel good.

littleredrxbinhood  asked:

jason todd: tim drake is my replacement, a loser, and oh, a huge nerd. i don't like him, capiche. also jason todd, at three am in a alley, 'bout to break someone's fingers: tim drake is the most wonderful and smartest boy to ever grace this living hellhole, talk crap about my pretty boy again and you'll get a lot worse than some broken bones.

Yes! Jason is the ONLY ONE allowed to make fun of the Replacement. Kind of reminds me of how when little boys have crushes they tease them a lot. Jay has the thought process of a toddler. Jason would be all, “Look at that loser fighting with a bow staff, who does that?” And then when a random thug agrees with him, Jason just punches him yelling “DONT TALK ABOUT HIM LIKE THAT!”

Smell Your Intentions (Isaac/Stiles)

Anonymous said: Stiles/Isaac

Teenyfic #7. Sigh. These aren’t turning out to be very teeny.

We don’t deal with outsiders very well
They say newcomers have a certain smell
You have trust issues, not to mention
They say they can smell your intentions

Heathens by Twenty One Pilots

Smell Your Intentions. Isaac/Stiles. Teen.

Isaac gives Stiles a warning about Parrish that ends up revealing more than planned

“You really should stay away from Parrish.”

“Fuck.” Stiles stops in his doorway and stares into the darkness of his room, his hand on his chest as he tries to calm his racing heart. “What the hell are you doing in my room, in the dark, Isaac?”

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SVTFOE Season 2 Finale Recap: “Wandside Attraction” and “Star and Marco vs The Future”


I knew this season finale was gonna kill us all, but I was SO off on how it was gonna turn out.

And by the way, if you’re waiting to watch these episode at 8 PM tonight… turn back now. I just saw ‘em at 7 in the morning, and as I said in my last post, there WILL be huge spoilers here. It’s not too late to look at another post until tonight, but if you’re willing to take the chance or have already seen it…

…then here we go.


Song Day is upon us, and Queen Moon Butterfly sends the new songstrel Ruberiot (voiced by Patrick Stump) to the Diaz household to write a song about Princess Star. Star, who is absolutely NOT a fan of these princess songs, tries to avoid hanging with Ruberiot until he realizes he hates those same songs, too, and they team up to write a song that really shows people who Star is. Meanwhile, Moon heads to the Forest of Certain Death trying to get some answers on where Ludo’s whereabouts might be. And who better for her to go to than his father Lord Brudo, his mother Lady Avarius, and his little brother Dennis? However, when she finds Ludo’s new lair and discovers what he’s wielding, she realizes the situation is much more serious than she could’ve imagined.

Before she can proceed with her mission, though, she, her husband King River, and the Magic High Commission along with Star and Marco attend the Song Day event, where it starts off great with Ruberiot subverting the kingdom’s expections and bringing them a rock ballad about Star being the Rebel Princess of Mewni… but then the songs gets to the part where Ludo shows up and takes Glossaryck and the Book of Spells, and the King and Queen proceed to keep retrieving the book and Glossaryck back a low-key effort, which horrifies both the Magic High Commission AND the entire Mewman audience.

But that’s not what the fandom’s gonna be talking about when they bring up the song. No, when they bring up the song, what they’re gonna really talk about– Aside from how awesome and catchy it is. –is that it straight up reveals that Star is in fact in love with Marco Diaz, a point Ruberiot glorifies for the finale, and one that he didn’t even talk to Star about to begin with. This all leads up to the following 22-minute episode…


And if you thought Storm the Castle or Bon Bon the Birthday Clown were the darkest this show could get, this is here to prove you completely wrong.

At the Diaz Family’s end-of-the-school-year party, Marco is still in shock as to Star’s true feelings for him, and things hadn’t really been so normal since Song Day. Of course, Star isn’t handling it much better, either. So, to avoid having an awkward conversation with him, Star calls an emergency friend meeting with Pony Head, Janna, Kelly and StarFan13 (who was there the whole time!), and they try to get Star to forget about his straining relationship with Marco by bringing her to a more dangerous bash on a rooftop, where Star finally hangs out with her other crush, Oskar Greason.

But meanwhile, on Mewni, Queen Moon and the MHC bust into Ludo’s ancient temple lair, easily dealing with the rat army, Eagle and Spider before contending with Ludo himself, who tells them that Glossaryck showed him a page of the Book of Spells (which, of course, was Queen Eclipsa’s chapter), and then suddenly he was gone. As the others leave to search for Glossaryck and the Book, Moon tells Ludo that she saw his family before coming there and pleads with him to let her help him. And as soon as you think Ludo’s gonna accept her help and listen…

…Toffee completely hijacks his body and steals her magic off-screen, turns the wand into a new, giant right hand with the crystal embedded within the palm, and easily curbstomps the others and steals THEIR magic. After being revived by Lekmet, who dies immediately after, Moon goes full-on Mewberty mode and battles Toffee, who this time around comes up the victor as the temple crumbles and Moon retreats, getting the fainted MHC to safety, but not before Toffee warns Moon that he’s coming for Star and seeking to reclaim his severed finger.

When Star and her friends come back home, Star decides to suck it up and she and Marco have a chat and agree it’s best the two remain friends. However, upon going to her room upstairs, she finds her mother there, telling her that she’s in danger and has to come back home to Mewni. Star tries to stand up and tell her she’s staying on Earth whether Moon likes it or not… until she’s told that Toffee has returned, bringing Star into a state of shock and disbelief. So she complies with her mother’s wishes, but before leaving, Star heads downstairs and tells Marco, in front of everybody in the house, that she is indeed in love with him, in a moment that every Starco shipper has been waiting the entire series for… which ends up being twisted into the biggest tearjerker in the series yet, as Star runs up to her room with Marco chasing her, but when he gets to her room, Star’s already left and her tower is dissipating from existence.

If there was one thing I was right about in my predictions for this, it was that it was gonna end in the biggest cliffhanger/downer ending yet. This hour starts fun, light and cheerful, like any normal SVTFOE episode, but then it slowly starts getting darker and darker for our cast as things keep taking a turn for the worse, from Star and Ruberiot’s princess song revealing not only Star’s crush on Marco but also the revelations that the Book and Glossaryck have been stolen, to finding out just how diabolical and dangerous Toffee really is. The entire thing is like a perfect mixture between the Holy Shit Quotient-level storytelling in Storm the Castle, where so many things have changed by the end of it all. and the way Bon Bon became increasingly more somber as the episode went on, giving us this gut-punch of a tearjerker ending that’ll have everyone asking themselves what’s next until Season 3 premieres.

Of course, it’s not all tearjerkers and nightmare fuel from beginning to end (at least, Face the Music isn’t); there are several light-hearted moments where we get not only some great laughs, like with the opening Princess Moon number, Janna scarfing down the whole popcorn bowl before zooming over to the Diaz house and the rooftop party (where Oskar somehow managed to park his car on top) but even a good deal of sweetness like Dennis’ concerns for Ludo and the surprisingly well-written conversation between Star and Oskar at said rooftop party, setting up that maybe they’ll be hanging out more when Marco and Jackie are dating. But sadly, the makers of this show don’t go that route… yet, as far as I know.

The route they do take, however, works just perfectly within the context of what this entire season’s given us: A deeper story that’s just starting to get real good, throwing twists and turns at us at every chance it gets and just when you think things are gonna be normal, dynamics change, relationships are affected forever, and we end up being left hanging for our heroes’ adventures to continue. And thankfully, like I said, there’s a Season 3 coming our way soon (albeit not soon enough), so in that upcoming season, we’ll get to see how everyone’s gonna deal with their new situations, and what fate will have in store as the plot continues to develop.

In fact, I have an idea of how Season 3 could start off that I’ll share some point after the season finale re-airs tonight, but for now, it’s time for the hiatus that’s hopefully shorter than the last one we had inbetween seasons. And when SVTFOE3 starts up, oh ho ho, boy, things are gonna get really weird and really wild then!

If I could crush these walls, I would. Every time I think I can, the material seems to change. Wood to brick to reinforced concrete, it only gets worse. I wish I could forget the way you touched me without permission, and the deep cuts your words left underneath my skin. I wish I could erase it all. I just want to be the person I was before I knew you. Is that too much to ask?
—  Maxwell Diawuoh, Request: a girl who has trouble trusting anyone because of abuse from the past but wishes she could just get over it and find a way to be normal again.
Anytime//Isaac Lahey

Isaac with 6? Thanks

6: “Don’t you die on me”

Italics are Y/N’s thoughts!

(wasn’t really feelin’ the angst today so here’s some fluff)

(also I don’t remember if Isaac had his own bike, but I know he used one of the twin’s one time so just roll with it okay.. Also someone tell me if he had one because I can’t remember and it’s killing me)


Today couldn’t get any worse. A test in every class, dark and gloomy weather, and having to stay late and work on a group project.

Group projects are the absolute worst, and what was even worse was the fact that only one other group member could stay and help: Isaac.

Now don’t get me wrong, Isaac was a sweet piece of eye candy and my crush on him was just a little huge, but he doesn’t exactly do wonders for my focus, or ability to string together coherent sentences if we’re being honest.

It was about 7pm, and Isaac and I were almost done with our whole project. Who knew Isaac was such a history buff? Excuse me while I swoon.

Just as I was admiring him, the cute sweaters, his smile, and his love of renaissance history, and thinking wow he really is the whole package, I noticed his mouth moving and I snapped myself out of my daze.

“Uh, what?” I asked, trying to conceal the blush creeping up onto my cheeks.

“I said I think we’re done, does everything look good to you?” he asked, confused look on his face.

Of course it does, you included.

“Yeah, yeah it does, good work” I replied, still trying to hide the red of my cheeks.

“Thanks, you too” he added with a slight smile.

God, that smile kills me.

We packed up our stuff and left the library together, making our way towards the parking lot. Wow, I forgot he had a motorcycle. How hot is that.

“Hey, thanks for staying to help me tonight, I really appreciate it” I told him with a smile and a blush.

“No problem, I’ll help you anytime” he replied.

I was too busy freaking out on the inside to notice him smirk at me while we both walked away. I sat in my car and took a deep breathe, trying to comprehend what just happened. When I finally calmed down, I stuck my key in the ignition, ready to go home.

What I heard when I did made my heart drop. The loud cranking of my engine made my mood decline just as quickly as it rose earlier.

“No no no, don’t you die on me” I pleaded.

What am I supposed to do? No one else it at school this late, and my phone was dead. I slumped back in my seat and eventually laid my head against the steering wheel, a feeling of dread washing over me.

I was pulled out of my own swirling thoughts by the sound of tapping on my window. I quickly look up and see a worried Isaac outside leaning against his bike, motioning for me to open the door. I pushed the car door open and swung my legs out to the asphalt to face him.

“Car troubles?” he asked, still looking a bit worried.

“Yeah, it won’t start and my phone is dead. It’s just been a fantastic day” I reply sarcastically.

A few seconds after I spoke it looked like a light bulb went off in his head, causing a smug smirk to appear on his face.

“You wanna ride?”

He’s offering me a ride home on his motorcycle. I think my heart just stopped.

“Um, yeah, thanks” I answered.

He shot me a toothy grin before giving me a helmet and telling me to hop on. When I did, he reached back and grabbed both my arms, leading them to wrap around his waist as he lifted the kickstand.

Riding through Beacon Hills at night was almost relaxing. The crisp fall air, the color changing leave rustling in the wind, and the soft city lights. Plus, the beautiful boy I’m holding onto.

As he pulled up to my house, I was pleasantly surprised when he helped me off the bike and walked me to my door. The dim light above the door made his soft curls shine.

“Thanks again, Isaac” I half-whispered, looking away.

His strong hand came under my chin, tilting my head upwards to meet his gaze. His eyes flickered down to my lips before his gentle lips met mine. My head was spinning and my heart was swelling.

Maybe today wasn’t such a bad day after all.

After what seemed like forever, our lips broke apart, his body still towering over mine.

“Anytime, Y/N, anytime”.

Writer’s Note: Hey everybody! Isaac fluff for the win! Thank you for the request anon, and as always, I hope you like it! And I’d love some feedback! -M

‘And She Was’ (Simon x OC, Part 5)

Title: “And She Was”

Characters: Simon (The Walking Dead), Negan (The Walking Dead)

Tags/Warnings: Explicit language, implied rape (it’s only a short flashback, please don’t worry), eventual smut, slow burn, explicit sexual content (oh yes! You got it!), masturbation, exhibitionism, Eugene

Gif Credit: GIF is not mine, credit goes to the creator!

NOTES: Savannah thinks that masturbating while Simon sleeps on the couch is a wonderful idea. Meanwhile, she can’t shake the feeling that Simon is hiding something from her. (also, god I love writing Eugene - he’s so ostentatious)

Taglist: @simons-thirst-squad @backseat-negan @neganisking @collette04 @isayweallgetdrunk @kuenie (if you’d like to be added, just let me know!)

Part one!

Part two!

Part three!

Part Four!

I wake up screaming in the dark. Hands smothering my mouth, pushing me down into layers upon layers of foliage, swallowing me and shuddering around my body. The stench of wet pine seeping from my rain-soaked hair, dripping into my mouth, past clammy fingers trying to claw my lips closed. His eyes blistering in the gloom.

“No.” The ever-present rage churning in my gut. “You did this – you deserve to die-”

“I was just taking what’s mine.” His fingers squeeze my wrists until I hiss through my teeth, thrashing in the undergrowth, the crickets chirruping happily somewhere far away. Like an audience to his assault. He pushes my face into the dirt and I taste grass in my mouth. “I’m sure she liked it.”

I scream, lashing out underneath him, kicking my legs. But he sinks his body weight on top of me and the ground swallows us both, a living, digesting stomach stinking of the dead.

I kick something soft. Gasp for breath but I find that I cannot draw any air, and I start to panic.

My eyes fly open as I jerk awake, blinking in the pale blue light of dawn.

Fuck. That wasn’t real?

I shudder, my skin beading with sweat under the clothes and the covers. For a moment I lie, prostrate and disorientated, struggling to remember where I am. Why the ceiling fan looks so unfamiliar. Why there’s the sound of calm, steady breathing coming from the couch. I roll over onto my other side, trying to shake the cobwebs of the nightmare from my mind. Patting down the covers, I crane my neck to see Simon, fast asleep.

“Raoul.” I whisper to myself, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and blinking to keep myself awake. I inhale and almost smell the scent of the man from my dream. Prop myself up and simply breath for several minutes, trying to calm the rabbit-fast palpitation of my heart. “But he’s not here. You’re safe. Safe as you can be.”

I watch the man in front of me as my panic dissipates and ebbs into awareness of my situation. The wound, the doctor, the man in the leather jacket. And him. The stranger who made me a Spanish cocktail in the middle of the night. His back is to me, the sheets tangled around his hips and long legs. I was right when I said he was too long for the couch - his feet dangle over the edge and twitch in sleep. Pale beams of morning-light illuminate the long-toed feet and ankles that melt into muscular calves. He has one arm over his face, and his t-shirt has hitched itself up around his middle. I can see a sliver of tanned back, and it’s enough to make all the heat in my body flood between my thighs.

Keep reading

(Don’t know if I submitted this yet)



- When I say smol, I mean SMOL. Like my height, I’m 5'1, and by some accounts Thorin Oakenshield is 5'2 so yeah, I’m basically a tall dwarf. And sometimes I think about that.

- So you, the human as always, are about my height, and if you aren’t I’d like you to picture it in your head for the sake of this headcanon list.

- You come into Rivendell, hungry, afraid, and exhausted.

- Lindir, who greets you, think’s you’re a dwarf, but he gives you food and water all the same.

- After a while (pretty much after watching you eat with //manners//) he realizes you’re human, and he smacks himself mentally for treating you so standoffishly

- You were injured when you came in, a few cuts, nothing you thought too serious but the one on your leg needed stitches so you were bedridden for a while.

- Lindir comes to eat dinner with you every night.

- Every. Night.

- One night, he asks what happened to you, and you have to give him the full story of Orcs coming down from the hills and slaughtering your kind like animals.

- He tells you that you’re very welcome to stay in Rivendell.

- You tell him that you cannot live in Elrond’s home, and that you have no money, and he offers you a room at his house.

- You take it.

- And once you’re well enough to walk, you’re at his house.

- This would probably be a good time to mention that I have a tiny (a little bit funny) headcanon that because elves are so tall naturally (being like 6'5 as an average) their chairs and couches and beds are all built for tall people.

- Basically, as a 5'1 person, my legs would dangle everywhere.

- You have to hop to get onto the bed, and it makes both you and Lindir laugh.

- On the bed you look like a child, it’s so big, and so fluffy.

- You’ve never slept so well in your life

- Lindir notices quickly that you have quite the spunky and loud character for someone so smol.

- You go on for a while during breakfast about how your cousin married an elf in Lorien, and how they met.

- ‘He shot an arrow at her! An arrow! And she yelled right at him, asking him who he thought he was, shooting arrows at a weary traveller and he apologizes but she wasn’t having any of it because he shot an arrow at her and nicked her ear!’

- Lindir just sits across from you, his chin on the heel of his hand, give you a small smile and heart eyes.

- He develops a crush on you that only gets worse with every meal you spend together. You talk so much, and he listens so well, so it’s a good pairing.

- You spend dinner talking about the things you saw down at the market.

- ‘I saw diamonds! Actual diamonds, I’ve never seen a diamond in my life! And then the elf behind the counter let me try them on and oh- I don’t think I’ve ever felt so pretty. I had to put them back, I couldn’t afford them, but that doesn’t matter. Oh-! And there was a stand full of flowers, I think the Man behind was flirting with me, he gave me a rose, for my hair. I didn’t think he was very attractive though’

- He goes down to the market after work the next day, buys that necklace, and tells himself that he’s going to go home, ask you on a date (because that’s how mortals court each other, right?) and give you the necklace.

- He’ll take you to the Mid-Summer’s Eve festival tonight, it’ll go great.

- He comes home and you’re sitting on the couch, bent over a book written in elvish, trying desperately to sound out the words you can barely read. You don’t even notice him walk in.

- He slides the necklace onto the open pages.

- 'I was wondering if you’d like to come to the festival with me tonight?’

- You hug him, a feat, especially for your smol legs, and you agree to go as you hug.

- Elves don’t hug, they do that, hand to chest and then outward thing, so a hug has got to be a little foreign to him.

- But he hugs you back, and when you break apart he puts the necklace around your neck.

- 'I love it!’ / 'It can barely hold a candle to your beauty’ *intense blush*

- Lindir learns quickly that size doesn’t matter.

- After the festival, and once you’ve happily fallen deeply in love with him, you go out to hunt some Orcs.

- Nothing too big, just you, Elladan, and Elrohir, killing the bad guys.

- You come back, and Elladan will tell anyone who will listen how well you fought all those Orcs after your horse went down.

- And then a while later Lindir witnesses your skill in fighting when you’re practicing with wooden swords with Glorfindel.

- You aren’t an elf, you don’t have any of those swift movements, you jump around a lot, and you move in harsh steps but you throw off Glorfindel by using his tallness against him.

- Basically, you’re a great fighter, and much like many other smol women in the world, you’re looked down on.

- Not by elves, no, they’ve witnessed far too much to judge a book by its cover, but by Men.

- Once, there’s a group of Men who come into Rivendell for only a day, they’re just passing through to visit their family.

- And you think, whatever, lots of people pass through towns, but they keep ogling you and it’s making you uncomfortable.

- One of them, the slimy looking one, grabs your butt when you walk past him to get another drink for you and Lindir

- Lindir stands up quickly but you turn around just as fast, your foot flying up to kick the guy in the face

- His head hits the table and the room goes silent and you stand barely a foot from him, your cups still in your hands, your shoulders locked

- Lindir stands at the table you were sitting at only a minute ago, not even shocked, just wishing he could do anything other than stare at you

- 'You gonna try to grab my *ss again? Or do I need to slam your head into the wall?’ / 'You’re overreacting-’

- 'I’M overreacting?! How about this, sh*thead, you try to touch me ever again, and I will do much worse than a cut on your forehead’

- You put the cups down and walk out, positively shaken and also feeling the after effects of an adrenaline rush

- And I’ll tell you what, after that, no one f**ked with you ever again. Ever.

- Lindir still likes that for once, someone in Rivendell is shorter than him, and he loves that you fit so well in his arms.


  • me: *trying to write*
  • brain: *whispers* have you considered jealous!Adrien over Marinette giving Nathaniel attention but he can't do anything because TECHNICALLY he's not into Marinette?
  • brain: ... HAVE YOU?
  • me: sTOP IT. HAVE MERCY.
  • me: pls...
  • me: ...
  • brain: write this. write this now.
  • me: no.
  • brain: you gotta...
I was a drug addict and an alcoholic for ten years. I got my first high before my first kiss and when I did get my first kiss, I was wasted. I was wasted when I lost my virginity and I was too strung out to care about the big things like prom, and graduation. I let people use and abuse me because I was empty and I thought cute guys with fake smiles and empty words could fill the hole inside of me. The hole I filled with poison . I poisoned my own body just to get relief and after the high wore off and I washed all that make up off at the end of the night, the end of a night where I let some guy use me right before I passed out in my own vomit, I still hated myself. When I looked in the mirror , after I washed my face and cried my eyes out and everything I was drinking, sniffing, snorting, swallowing, crushing, and injecting wore off, I still hated myself. So before you try to fill the cracks of your soul with drugs, fake people and booze, just know that it only makes you hate yourself worse when you sober up, and when those people leave you. Always love yourself and get help if you don’t, get help before you become even more fucked up. Even more fucked up than me.
You're a Porn Star?

How come I just found this and it’s been sitting in my drafts for 124853 years???

How about fuck yes. Great prompt idea. Thanks for requesting!

You should be able to figure out by the title that this is smut and if you can’t you’re probably too young to read this.

Keep reading


Eyless Jack: Stalker

So…something. She was something indeed. There was something odd about her, I just felt…like I knew her. Much like the other Pasta’s I remember less and less about my past life everyday, but the night that I crept in through her window and I saw her sleeping I…I knew I couldn’t harm her. There was a power to her, drawing me in. I desperately wanted to talk to her, maybe getting to know her and figuring out what is wrong with me would fix it. I tried, I truly did, but every night I went to her house I just…watched. Id watch her shower, brush her hair and get dressed for bed. Before I knew it she was asleep and I had missed my chance. I tried to kill her, I thought maybe just killing her would make it stop but…it didn’t. The closer I got the stronger the feeling in my stomach was. Who the hell was this girl?

Odd couldn’t even begin to describe the past few days. You had a crushing feeling like you weren’t alone, like you were being watched. You tried to shake it off but it only got worse, you started looking over your shoulder more while walking home, you made walkthroughs of the house every night. You looked outside more, it was torture.

Peeking, she kept peeking. Tonight she spent most of the night glancing around the room, yanking the curtains back and staring out the window. Did she see me? She knew something was wrong, she knew someone was there. She knew I was there.

Last night was utter hell, you felt sick to your stomach all night and you didn’t get a wink of sleep. The feeling of being watched had quickly progressed to full on paranoia; it was ruining your life. Today, you decided to buy a video camera and set it up in your room. Every mediocre horror movie told you how bad of an idea this way but you didn’t care, you wouldn’t spend the rest of your life like this.

She defiantly knew, I can see that now. At the time I was so blinded by her that I completely ignored the obvious camera mounted on the wall. How stupid of me, I should have noticed it. I may be eyeless but I am far from blind, until that night. Desperate to continue my search for answers, I crept into her room once again. I sat upon the dresser, staring at her. Who the hell is she?

Fear. World shattering, gut wrenching, fear. That is what you felt the moment you re watched the tape. The next morning you quickly scurried over to grab the camera and you curled up on the bed, your eyes glued to the screen you watched. Atop your dresser so high, sat the man who had been haunting you. Not anymore, you would no longer be a victim to this sick mans game. Tonight, you planned a set up.

Stupid stupid stupid, I was so stupid. She was waiting for me that night; she was a damn fine actress. She played her night as usual, showered, brushed her hair, and went to bed. Only, her eyes remained open and her heart raced. Tonight she planned to corner me, to confront me. Stupid Stupid girl.


He’s here




Under the covers you gripped the butcher night tightly, fear and anger coursing through you.


“Who are you?!” You screamed, shooting up from the bed and holding the knife defensively. The boy visibly jumped, but then quickly recovered.

“Answer me!” You yelled, trying to conceal your terror. The boy stood in front of you arms draped to his side and his head tilted to the right, simply staring.

“Who…” You ask softly, your voice cracking. “Who are you?”

“Y/n…” The boy groans, his voice was so deep and so nonhuman. He knew you; he’d finally figured it out. He knew why he felt so close to you; he knew why everything about hurting you felt so wrong.

“Little bird…” He whispered, staring at you through the dark. The words hit you like a tidal wave, your body loosens and your voice chokes.

“Jack…?” You choke out his name, the name of your best friend all those years ago. Jack had been your only friend and you his, when he died you felt like you had lost everything. You never fully recovered. It took every bone in your body to not run up and hug him. You hand covers your mouth and you close your eyes for a brief moment before looking back at him. The room goes quiet, you two just string at each other before finally you speak up in a small broken voice.

“How long? How long have you…have you been here?”

He pauses, has if contemplating the question. Finally realizing who you are made him realize what that meant for him. It was dangerous, caring about a living person. He hated the idea of having a weak spot, even more than he hated the idea of killing her.

“Too damn long.”

Suddenly he jerked toward you, knocking the knife you of your hand. His left hand gripped your throat and slammed you into the wall, lifting you up a few inches. His right hand held something sharp, he pressed it into your side and you let out a weak whimper.
Your vision going hazy, you heard him groan out your name again. The scalpel pressed deeper into you, drawing blood. Yelping out as much as you could with so little air, he stepped closer. His leg press in between yours and his face barley an inch from your neck he groaned again.

“Y/n…So beautiful…so perfect…I…” He paused, drawing in a breath like moan. “I…Need you…To die.” With those words he pressed harder into your neck, you felt your face burning and your eyes watering. You desperately tried to speak but you couldn’t, you began to feel heavy and just as you lost all feeling he released you. He guided your limp body to the floor where he leaned above you. He watched as you choked out, your body trying to breathe through a crushed windpipe. You twitched slightly and this amused him, within a few second you were gone. And so was the feeling in his stomach.

Nat’s Daycare ~ Every Other Time

Word Count: 1291

Summary: AU where Baz owns/works in a daycare and Simon has a cute daughter. This has probably been done before, but I like it a lot. :)

Part 2 of ?? (The First Time |this is part 2 |A Late Time| Even Later |Morning Time |A Date? |Dinner Time |Dining & Bedtime| Boyfriend?| The Morning After |Confusion and Love)

i have no idea what i’m doing but i like it. also damn i never write this fast wtffff. and as, apparently, it’s kinda good,
@killuaislovekilluaislife  asked me to tag them in this fic. enjoy!


Simon brought Lucy in almost every day. He never had a wife with him, never mentioned Lucy’s mom, and hadn’t put any mother figure on the guardian sheet. I’d checked. I should’ve gotten used to seeing him daily by now, but I wasn’t. My heart fluttered and my cheek flushed. I wasn’t the only one with this reaction, but I was the only employee with this reaction. Some of the other parents would stare at Simon when he came in, helped Lucy unpack, and kissed the top of her head.

Simon would always pause to talk to me. I thought it was mainly because Lucy remembered me from the grocery store, and, once she let go of Simon, promptly attached herself to my legs.

“Well, good morning, Miss Lucy.” She hung from my legs, her arms around my waist and her feet crossed behind my knees. She mumbled into my knees.

“Morning, Baz.” Simon greeted. “She seems to attach to you more than me at this point.”

“Can’t blame her, can you?” Agatha winked at me as she passed, making it a point to pinch my arm.

I cleared my throat uncomfortably, blushing.

“Do all of the employees flirt with you this much?” Simon crossed his arms, but not in an intimidating manner. Well, everything he did intimidated me, but that’s just because I’m disturbed (ask anyone). There was a twinkle in his eyes.

“Um, no. Agatha’s just joking.”

Simon nodded, his expression disbelieving. “Sure.”

“What? You don’t believe me?”

He smiled with all of his teeth, making my heart drop into my stomach. “This isn’t the first time she’s flirted with you in front of me, and she’s not the only one.”

“If you’re talking about Fiona, you know she’s my aunt.”

“No, I’m talking about some of the other parents. Haven’t you noticed?” I nudged Lucy off my legs, turning to collect an empty bottle.

“No, I have not. None of the parents flirt with me. That’s highly unprofessional.” I felt very stiff. Stepping in front of Simon, I scooped up a running child, stopping their path to destruction.

Simon smirked. “And you’re definitely not flirting with any of the parents, either, right?”

My heart froze in my chest. “No.”

He tut-tutted disbelievingly, crossing his arms.

“Got anything to say about that?” I bounced the tyke, calming him down.

“Oh, nothing.”

“Don’t you have a job or something to get to?” It was rude, I knew, but I couldn’t take this much Simon this early in the morning. My crush had only gotten worse over the past month, especially as I learned more about him. He worked in marketing, and thought his boss was sleazy and cheap. He was kind. His eyes were very blue.

“Or something.” Simon shrugged. He did that a lot. “Have a nice day, Baz. Make sure that Lulu behaves herself.”

“Because she’s such a troublemaker.” I replied sarcastically.

Simon rolled his eyes. “Have a nice day, Baz.” He greeted a couple of other parents on his way out. My heart lurched when he turned and smiled at me from the door.

“Baz?” Fiona called from the desk in the back. “Could you come back here?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Okay, so you’re obviously in love with Mr. Salisbury, right?” Fiona never sugarcoated things. She let me stutter for a few seconds before interrupting, answering her own question. “Right. Anyway, maybe you could deliver the bill to him.”

“What? Why can’t you mail it to him?”

“I don’t have his address.”

“Yes, you do. He put it on the entrance forms.”

“Oops.” Fiona clearly didn’t care. “Well, I just figured that you spend enough time talking to him anyway that you wouldn’t mind giving him the bill.”


“What? If you like him, ask him out.”


“But what? Baz, sweetie, ask him out. What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“Fee, I don’t even know if he’s gay. Better yet, I don’t even know if he’s married, or in a relationship. He’s got a kid. What do you bet that he’s single?”

Fiona sighed. “At this rate, you’re never going to know, because you won’t even ask.”

A group of kids started crying, and Agatha raised an impatient eyebrow in our direction. “I should go help.”

“But Baz—” She started.

“No, Fee. Not now.” I scooped up the two causing the problem, and began to bounce them both, finding pacifiers and bottles, and sniffing for the cause of a diaper change.

Agatha sighed. “Finally, Baz.”

I winced. “Sorry, Aggie. Fee won’t stop telling me to ask him out.” I never said his name out loud, not to Agatha or Fiona.

“She’s right, you know.” When I started to walk away, she continued. “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but pining after him doesn’t get you anywhere. Besides, you’re not the only one who finds him hot.”

I shrugged, handing a kid’s stuffed animal back to him. “So?”

“Well, I heard Trixie and Keris mention that Philippa Stainton was going to ask Simon out. I know, I know, too much gossip, but I’d snatch him up while you can.”

“Trixie and Keris’ kid is Darcy, right?” Darcy and Lucy had become good friends in this past month.


“And who the hell is Philippa?”

“She’s a nanny. I guess she babysat for Simon one night, and thought he was really hot. Also, don’t curse in front of the kids.”

“Oops,” I froze. I never cursed with kids around. “Sorry.”

“Anyway, I think you should snatch him up while you can. He likes you.” Agatha rounded up the kids, and with my help, put them down for a nap. Once they woke up, we’d have snack time and inevitably change some more diapers. Fiona normally helped out more, but she had a meeting with our accountant.

With a CD of Mozart’s symphonies playing softly, Agatha and I lulled the little ones to sleep. “What do you mean that he likes me?”

“You haven’t noticed?” Agatha shushed a fussing toddler.


“He stops to talk to you every morning—you and only you—and flirts with you non-stop.” We were whispering now, afraid to wake the littluns.

“No, he doesn’t.”  I wondered if she could hear the way my voice wavered.

“Yes, he does. He was flirting with you this morning. That’s why I pinched you.”

“How was he flirting?”

“He wouldn’t stop smiling, for one. He looked at you and Lucy with total adoration. And he was laughing and joking. You were flirting, too.”

“He looked at Lucy with adoration, you mean. You know, the one who’s his daughter.”

“No, I mean you and Lucy.” At the mention of her name, Lucy popped up. She hated nap time, anyway, and this was just an excuse to play.

“Bazzy!” She bounced over to where I was crouched.

I shushed her as I wrapped a loose arm around her tiny frame. “Be quiet, little puff. Everyone’s asleep.”

She pouted, and I swore I could see Simon. “But Bazzy, me wanna play.”

“I know, Lucy, but the others are trying to sleep. Why don’t you go lay down?”

She stomped one foot. “Me no tired.”

“You will be if you don’t lay down.” Logic to a tyke was like algebra to a horse. They didn’t fit. “How about this? You go play pretend, and fool me into thinking you’re asleep, okay? If you can fool me, then after naptime you can go on the swings with Darcy.” She could always go on the swings with Darcy, she just needed a supervisor. But Lucy didn’t get that. That was incentive enough for her.

“Okay!” She beamed and darted back to her sleeping mat—next to Darcy’s—laid down, and promptly fell asleep.