needed a fresh batch had the same things over and over again

Dandelions: finished summary!

again, I’m sorry I had to stop this project. I had a LOT more story to tell and my depression just wasn’t letting me have the motivation to do so. School is starting back up again and I knew I wouldn’t be able to work on any comic pieces once that happened so here is the summary of what I want to do with the rest of the story! 

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Pick Her Poison

Summary: Coffee shop meet cute: Bucky tries to convince you to have coffee with him.

Prompt(s): “I can fix this” for @just-some-drabbles​’ RomCom challenge!

Warnings: I think I swore once?

Word Count: 2557

Originally posted by madqirl

It was a gloomy fall day all around. The grey and drizzle outside had persisted at least since you’d woke well before dawn that morning and trudged to your bus stop and into work. Even in your waterproof hooded jacket, the humidity clung to your skin and filled your lungs like a smooth heavy smoke.

Once you unlocked the door and shrugged out of your dripping coat, you rubbed your hands together and got to the first order of business: making yourself some coffee. With the lights to the shop still dim and the world outside not quite waking, you started up the massive ovens and pulled out the racks of small pastries the night shift had prepared before closing yesterday. The morning continued as always, you buzzed through the small shop, swapping fresh baked pastries from the oven to the display case, sometimes adding a drizzle of sweet, sticky icing, sometimes a bit of orange zest, sometimes a thick, warm chocolate sauce that would firm up just enough to stick as it cooled.

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Enchanted // Moon Bin


the prompt: may I please request the mermaid/enchanted voice au with Moonbin of Astro??
(from this au) “I’m a mermaid/merman, and you’ve fallen in love with my voice. How do I break it to you that you don’t actually love me, you’re just enchanted?”

words: 3922

category: fluff + angst

author note: have you guys heard the new astro songs yet? the aroha song is so sweet! for this scenario i decided to make moonbin the mermaid rather than the reader, which i feel like was the best decision bc now i’m in love with this mermaid au. also, i might do a spin-off of this for eunwoo?? or a sequel for bin?? probably both?? anyway, pls enjoy merman bin~

- destinee

Originally posted by starryeunwoo

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Coming Home - Caleb Holloway (Part Five)

Author: @writing-obrien 

Character(s): Caleb Holloway/Reader, Felicia Williams, Sydney Williams

Word Count: 2174

Notes: This is extremely emotional, hence why I made it so short, simply because anything too long would have been far, far too hard to handle emotionally and mentally. 

Originally posted by stilinski-ortiz

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The Sun and The Moon

This imagine is loosely based off a chapter from the book Attachments by Rainbow Rowell (I’d recommend anything by @rainbowrowell!!), and the song Liability by Lorde. Enjoy! :)

Birds sang outside the window. Watching them, I felt envy at how oblivious they were to everyday problems; they didn’t have to fret about money or jobs, or if your boyfriend was thinking of breaking up with you.

“I think Jason’s going to break up with me,” I said softly, already the lump was forming at the back of my throat. Maybe it was the mere thought of not waking up next to Jason’s body, or it could be the fact that Justin’s eyes were burning with pity, aiming their fire directly at me.

“How do you know? [Y/N], I’m sure that’s not the case,” Justin replied with the same amount of softness in his voice, it was enough to send me to sleep. “You know I’m not too keen on him but I can see he loves you.”

“Does he? We hardly see each other anymore, if we did break up I probably wouldn’t even notice.” I stirred my milkshake with the straw, watching the tiny bubbles dance together, and collide whenever one of them missed a step.

“Are you happy?” Justin asked, taking my hand and making me look up at him. “If you’re not happy, maybe this is what you need, it could be good for you.”

“I love him. He’s the person I always dreamed of being with, he’s those butterflies that you hear about when you’re young, the ones you stop believing in when you get your first high school boyfriend and you can’t seem to feel anything but how rough and uncomfortably hot their hand is around yours. He’s the butterflies and the sparks, and the sun and the moon all thrown together in one big mush, I don’t wanna lose that,” I sniffed, making me realise that tears are falling from my chin and onto the dance floor in my milkshake.

Justin nodded. “You need to talk to Jason. You shouldn’t let yourself go getting upset about something that may or may not be real, and as your best friend, I can’t sit here and watch you literally drink your own tears.” He grimaced.

I sniffed again. “You’re right, I should talk to him. I’ll go now, I mean, if that’s okay?”

“Don’t worry about me, I’m about to drink two milkshakes, I’ll be more than fine.” I threw my jacket on while watching Justin pull my milkshake next to his half-empty glass. I gave him a hug around his neck - it was warm in a pleasing way - and pecked the side of his head. “I’ll call you later, if I’m crying, you’ll know to bring the full fat ice cream,” I joked with a hint of seriousness.

The drive home caused my heart to come alive in my chest and I was sure it had never experienced so much panic before which seemed to cause the panic levels to rise, making me panic more, and so on. I attempted to calm myself down by turning up the volume of the radio, a slow song was playing and I let myself get lost so I didn’t have to think about where I was headed.

The moment was perfect, but it had to end. And it did. Before I could comprehend anything I was shutting off the car’s engine and climbing out, setting a foot on the hard concrete and feeling it vibrate through my body. My legs shook as I moved up the driveway.

I knew Jason was home because my car now sat perfectly next to his own. I didn’t look back as I let myself in. “Jason?”

“I’m up here!” he called from upstairs. I followed his voice.

Walking into our bedroom, I saw Jason sat at the small desk in the far left corner of the room, his body hunched over something that I couldn’t see, and something I wasn’t bothered about in the slightest in that moment.


“Mhm? What’s up?” he muttered.

“Can we talk?”

There was a pause before he swivelled around in the chair so that he faced me, giving me his full attention. All of a sudden my racing heart returned from its small vacation.

“What d’you wanna talk about?” he asked after I hadn’t shown any signs in continuing the conversation.

“I, uh, I wanna ask you something,” I gulped and sat down on the edge of the bed, not daring to get comfortable just yet.


“What do you see in our future?” I picked at my fingernails helplessly.

“Why’d you ask?”

The fact that he answered my question with a question set my veins on fire.

“Just wondering.”

“I see us. Together. As we are now,” he said.

“Really? You think we’ll still be together in the future?” I asked, trying not to let multiple questions fall out of my mouth all at once.

“Of course, why would we not be?” he frowned.

“I don’t know, maybe because one of us didn’t want to be?” I chanced a glance at Jason and saw him already looking at me. I could almost see the machinery working in his head.

“..What are you talking about?”

“Be honest with me, be truthful, because lies are ugly, especially coming from someone so beautiful,” I said, and immediately regretted my words, sounding like someone out of a movie. “Something has changed between us, don’t tell me you can’t see it.”

Jason sighed, and I knew I wasn’t going to like what was to follow. My breath hitched in my throat.

“I don’t know what it is,” he said. “Things were great, things were perfect-“

“I know, I was there,” I muttered.

“I don’t think this is working anymore,” his voice rasped, and my Jason had never felt so far away. “We need space.”

“So long story short, you’re breaking up with me? I was right?” I stood up to allow the sadness and the anger and confusion to circuit through the rest of my body instead of getting trapped in my hands, making me want to punch something.
“No, I just think we need some time apart,” he said too calmly. I was angry at him for always looking so at peace, even then, while my world was falling apart. I scoffed.

“C’mon Jason, we all know that means the end. I get it. Stop bullshitting,” I spat, wetness warming my cheeks.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“No,” I laughed, unable to stop shaking my head, “you don’t, you don’t because if you did, you wouldn’t be doing this. You’d stay and love me like I want you to. You can’t love me and still want to leave!”

“[Y/N], I think you need to calm down,” Jason looked at me with so much pity in his eyes that I felt two feet tall.

“What is it? Why don’t you want me?” I whispered, backing against the wall. Jason didn’t make any effort to move from his chair. I don’t think he moved since he turned to look at me.

He sighed, closing his eyes. He looked beautiful and I hated him. “You can be too much, [Y/N]. At the beginning it was cute and it was everything I loved you for. But it’s changed now, I’ve changed. I need time to myself, to think, I can’t have that with you.”

Every word that left his lips - lips that once gave me so much love and attention - shattered my heart just a little bit more.

Jason once took me all the way to Paris to kiss me at the top of the Eiffel Tower. We got lost on the way back to the hotel so we booked a room in the most run-down place in the middle of the city, and he kept me warm and touched me all through the night, not wanting to stop in case it brought us back to reality. All of that seemed so far away. Where had Jason gone?

“I’m too much?”

“For me, yeah. I love you [Y/N], I really do, but I just don’t think this is what I want anymore. I need someone who gives me space when I need it, who lets me invest time into other things. I can’t always be here to take care of you.”

“I don’t need taking care of, Jason, I’m a grown woman,” I muttered. “I want you to leave.”

“Okay,” Jason said. “I’ll be out by the end of the week-“

“No,” I said. “I want you out now. Go on.”

“[Y/N], you can’t just-“

“I can do whatever the fuck I want to, you’re leaving, remember? Get out, I don’t want to be around you right now.” I pulled my jacket around my body, watching the floor as Jason stood up. “Justin was right about you,” I whispered.

“Was he now?” Jason spat. “What did he say? Could you hear him properly while you were on your knees?”

My mouth dropped and a fresh batch of tears filled my eyes. I started to suffocate on the silence that followed his words. It might have a hurt a little less if Jason showed some sign of remorse, but the same glare stayed etched on his face.

“Get out.”

“I’m surprised you’re not begging me to break up with you, so you can fuck him without the guilt of doing it behind my back.” Jason grabbed his jacket and I knew this was the last time I’d ever see him again, my heart was burning.

“You know that never happened,” I whispered.

“Do I?” he asked. “It seems like a pretty good explanation to me.”

“Stop it! Stop trying to turn this around me! You’re the one that’s breaking my heart, this is not my fault,” I shouted, but he didn’t flinch. “For the last time, get out.”

Jason didn’t look back as he hurtled out of our bedroom (my bedroom?) and down the stairs. I awaited the slam of the door and only a fews seconds later, it rang through the house. I flinched.

I didn’t think of what I was doing as I called a taxi, not trusting myself to get in my car and drive, and laid on the floor until I heard it pull up outside my house. The twenty minutes of waiting were the most lonely; I thought the silence would comfort me, but it turns out all it wanted to do was taunt me.

I cried in the taxi. Not for Jason, but for myself and for the breaking of my heart. I replayed the best moments with Jason through my mind like a tape, and cried both because of the memories and because the tape was over. All I could do now was rewatch it.

Thanking the driver, I handed him all the money in my pocket and climbed out of the taxi. I heard him drive off as I dragged myself up the driveway and slammed my knuckles on the wooden surface, enjoying the pain that greeted them.

I realised that I wasn’t even sure if he was home, but Justin answered almost instantly and for that, I was thankful. The warmth of his house wrapped around me, so did his arms.

“It’s over,” I sobbed into his chest while his hands rubbed my back. It almost felt like Jason. “It doesn’t seem real.”

“Come on, get inside,” he said softly while closing the door behind us. Justin held onto me as we walked through his house and up the stairs.

Justin’s bed was bigger and softer than my own; I happily fell into the sheets and pulled them up to my chin. It somehow made me feel a tiny bit better, like a minute segment of my heart believed things wouldn’t be so bad.

“Do you want to talk about it, or is it too soon?” Justin asked as he climbed beside me, the space next to me sunk and I fell closer to him. Turning to face him, I adored the familiarity he brought, I didn’t want to stop looking at him.

“Am I too much?”

Justin frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Jason, he said that I’m too much for him, he said he needs space.”

He didn’t speak for a while, giving me the fear that he agreed with Jason, but the gentle in his eyes made me think otherwise. “You deserve someone who loves all of you all the time. Your love and energy should be spent on someone appreciates how much you are. It’s never too much.” His finger was tracing my cheek, sending a warm, fuzzy feeling along my skin.

I didn’t know what to say, but I knew what to do, and I did it. In a matter of seconds my lips were pressed against Justin’s and I was kissing him, and he was kissing me. Our breathing got faster by the second. I could feel Justin’s body moving closer with hunger. Letting my fingers, move through his hair, I heard him moan softly.

We pulled away for air and looked at each other, panting softly. Justin was the first to laugh, making me follow lead. We shook our heads slowly, like we were both thinking the same thing. I dropped my head onto his chest and for the first time since I watched Jason walk out forever, the silence wasn’t so haunting.

She’s waiting.

So it’s probably already been done but i’m wallowing deep in the Wish hook junkyard and this attacked me out of nowhere. 

So I thought i’d share lol. Tagging @queen-mabs-revenge cos she’s mah Santiago. 

Detective Rogers has a lot of things on his mind that he can’t explain. 

He’s great at zoning out. He’s not sure if it’s something he’s learnt to do with the job or if he’s just always been a patient man, but it certainly comes in handy at times like this.

There’s an irritating fellow in front of him doing his best to order the most complicated of drinks, possibly only to get the satisfaction of making the barista’s life a misery. He seems the type of arrogant man that would sue the poor lad for getting the wrong texture of foam on his drink but… he doesn’t want to assume.

He stands with his arms meeting neatly behind his back, a firm and upright stance that resembles something out of the military. He’s not sure if it was something taught at the academy or if it again is just something that came naturally to him over the years.

As the arse in front who’s most certainly suffering from ‘little man syndrome’ continues to dictate to the young barista, he finds his gaze wandering aimlessly around the establishment.

Light wood chairs with the barest hint of fabric on the seat to make them at least appear comfortable to sit on. Plain walls with a mixture of painted stripes in shades of cream and brown he’s sure have names like ‘cream tea’, ‘hazelnut’ and ‘mocha’.

The display cooler is a mix of bottled sodas and plastic wrapped sandwiches that look both unappetising and stone cold. He’s sure they’ve been sitting there a while.

His eyes then land on the glass display that acts half as the service counter. An array of sweet treats litter the glowing glass container. Walnut cake, brownies, apple tarts, iced buns.

Iced buns.

He hasn’t seen one of those in-

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Day 29: Magnus + being the High Warlock of Brooklyn

His day began with three quick knocks on the door. Even as the third hit landed, he was off from his bed, hands reaching for his robes, magic the last thing on his mind as he hurried to get to the door in time, well aware that his early morning visitor only gave three chances before she would disappear and he wouldn’t see her in months. Three successive knocks repeated three times, and that was the only warning he got before she pulled off her disappearing act.

He got to the door just as she the last knock landed and pulled open the door, pleased to see that he caught her just in time. She had one leg extended, ready to walk away, her big gray coat way too big for her skinny frame, and she hugged herself, as if bracing herself against the dangers of the world.

“Miss Corinne,” he said and gave a little bow, gazing up at her with a smile that she slowly returned.

She gave a little curtsy, “High Warlock,” and when she rose to her full height, all four foot nine of it in her flat sensible shoes, her hands flapped about, her anxiety kicking into full gear.

Magnus pulled his door wide open and gestured her in, closing the door with a snap of his finger and then walking towards his pantry, throwing his hands in the air reaching for all the ingredients he needed to make her bones ache just a little bit less and have her heart just a little bit lighter.

Those brown eyes, slightly dimmed with pain but no less intelligent watched him and when he gestured at her, the old wolf took her seat.

Magnus took the seat across from her, and hummed as he added some dried helichrysum to the mix and ground it in, working with smooth motions until it was all blended in. He then poured a generous helping of vinegar over the mix and bottled up the jar. He snapped his fingers and another identical bottle appeared. “For the first six weeks,” he said to her, noting as she nodded at him. “The fresh batch will be good six weeks from now.” He waited until she gave him a quick nod, and then walked her out of the loft, a quick snap replacing the quarters in her pulse with several bills—all twenties because Corinne tended to have a problem with the larger bills. That should take care of her groceries for the three months it would take before she visited him again.

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anonymous asked:

i'd like to request full blood angst! any genre, plot, ideas will do just please~~~

Title: Eventually

Genre: Angst

Pairing: Jumin Han x MC/Reader/You

a/n❗️ i am back and i hope this ficlet will suffice your full blood angst request, dear love~ ciao!

6 months

You often find yourself with tears-stained face whenever you wake up in the morning. No matter how much you try and deny to yourself about what you felt, it still comes and crawls back, haunting you until you surrender to it. The bizarre pain you feel when you hear his name, think of him, recall the times you both have been together aches and you cannot do anything but succumb to the pain you’re feeling.

You lose. Every time.
Not that you didn’t mind.

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starryiedd  asked:

Jeanmarco bakery au "You come in every day and buy the same thing but today we're out of it and your pouty face is so cute WHAT can I get you instead, my number maybe"

i am. very sorry this took so long to finish holy FUCK but i really really enjoyed this prompt i love u for sending it THANK YOU

Jean leaned on the counter, his palms flat on the fake wooden surface, his neck straining as he stared down the street. He kept throwing the occasional glance at the last chocolate chip muffin in the display case, just to make sure it hadn’t disappeared.

“You waiting for your boyfriend, Jean?” Reiner’s voice cut through the low hum of the store, booming over the quiet conversations, much to Jean’s chagrin. He stiffened, turning to glare at his bulky coworker.

“He’s not my boyfriend, asshole.” Jean hissed. “I just want to make sure he gets his muffin. There’s only one left, and he’s been getting them every day since I started working here. I don’t want to throw his daily routine off, or whatever.”

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The Only One - John Shelby

Originally posted by bonniebirdsgifcentre

I know requests are busy, but would you mind doing an imagine with John being there for you after you breakup with your boyfriend. John had been begging you for ages to breakup with him because he was horrible to you (not abusive).

I decided to set this in an AU without Martha, because childhood sweetheart John/reader is my jam right now  👌

Things have been rocky for a while between myself and Walter, in fact I can barely remember a time when I was happy with him; any fond memories slowly extinguished by the arguments and accusations until the tiny flicker of anything good had finally burnt out. But the routine and my naïveté, coupled with the coos of ‘hasn’t she done well, snagging herself someone respectable at barely seventeen years old’ from my mother had shielded me from the gravity of the situation.

It was that realisation which has given me the gumption to end things.

I had hoped it would be a easy break, that he’d be mature enough to accept the termination of our relationship with dignity, but that was an hour ago and he’s barely stopped screaming long enough to take a breath.

“Two years I’ve wasted on you! I knew you were just a silly little girl! And to think I asked you to marry me!”

I scoff at the thought; a lifetime with a man I can barely tolerate.

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On Your Right ~ Bucky x Reader (Part 11)

A/N: Happy Hump Day! Have some fluff! 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9
Part 10 

Summary: The majority of the team is off dealing with the information Thor brought them so the reader spends some quality time with everyone’s favorite friendly neighborhood spiderman before Winter Soldier, Falcon and Ant-man return home . Kinda angsty, kinda fluffy! Hope you enjoy! 

Rating: T for language

Warnings: Opens with mentions of therapy, A little angst, language 

Pairings/Characters: Bucky x reader, Peter Parker x Reader (Platonic/sibling-esque), Briefly Scott Lang and Sam Wilson 

Word count: 1958 

Steve encouraged you to talk to a professional to help you cope with the trauma, and you had agreed. The majority of the team was working with Thor to find the dimensional rifts that had been left after the convergence. He was concerned that threats from other realms were finding their way through the weak spots between the universes.

Steve took you and Peter off of active duty while they tracked the potential threat, which meant your days consisted of therapy and dance practice or reading while he studied. The therapy was an uphill battle, sometimes it felt like it was doing more harm than good, but when you took a step back things were improving on the whole. The routine was helpful in its own right, but you missed your team terribly, and you couldn’t help but worry about how you left things with Bucky. The only interaction you had had was when he hugged you fiercely but briefly before he left with Scott and Sam.

You tried not to focus on it, but you couldn’t help but feel like that conversation should have been a turning point, and now you had no idea where you stood.

“Y/n!” Peter called, recapturing your attention.

“Sorry, hon. What?” You asked, shaking away thoughts of the dark-haired super soldier.

“I asked if you could check over this Chemistry problem. I’ve done it two ways and it should work out to be the same thing, but I’m getting way different answers.”

He frowned at the two stacks of papers in front of him, looking lost.

“Hand them over. Why don’t you take a break? You look like you’re fading fast.”

He nodded his agreement and stood to stretch his cramped legs.

“I’m going to get a drink. Do you want something?”

“Just water. Thanks.”

You turned your attention to his work, carefully comparing the two methods. You chuckled when you saw his simple mistake; the kid definitely needed a mental break. Quickly checking your mental math with a calculator to confirm you were right, you slid the papers back to his side of the table as he returned, tossing you a water bottle.

“So did you figure it out?” He asked perching on the chair across from you.


“So what is it?” he prompted when you didn’t continue.

“A simple mistake that proves that you need a break. Close the books and come on.”

“Where are we going? Y/n, I have to study!” he called as you waltzed out of the room.

“Keep up, Peter.”

You heard quick footsteps as he hurried to catch up to you, grumbling something about you being bossy. You took a deep breath of fresh air when you led him out by the pool, flopping down on a chaise to enjoy the sun.

“Come on. Sit down. Let’s chat.”

“You know, nothing good ever comes of you saying ‘let’s chat’.”

He shook his head as he took the chaise on your right.

“That is not true. Now, why don’t you tell me why you’ve been so bummed the past two weeks,” you suggested, giving him a knowing look.

“Umm, finals. Duh,” he scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Uh huh. Really? Because I’m pretty sure it started right after cotillion,” you pressed.

“What? What are you talking about? Cotillion was great!” He raced through the words and his voice cracked.

“Well, either you’re lying or you’re going through puberty again… so do you want to try that one more time?”

“Okay, fine. Ever since I escorted Gwen, Michelle will barely speak to me.”

There it was.

“Ahh, I see. And just to confirm, you don’t like Gwen, but you do like Michelle, right?”


“So, why did you agree to go to cotillion with Gwen?”

“Because she’s my friend and she said she wanted someone she would be comfortable around since she’s going to be nervous and her crush Andrew was already escorting Emma.”

“Have you told Michelle any of that?”

“No. Gwen made me promise not to tell anyone.”

“And have you been hanging out with Gwen more since then?”

He shrugged, “Maybe a little. But it’s just because we’ve been working on a project for robotics club and she’s been sad since Andrew and Emma officially started dating.”

“So you’ve been comforting her?” you prodded.

“Yeah. She finds physical contact calming so sometimes I hold her hand or give her hugs. But just as a friend!” he added, realizing how it sounds.

You sighed at the teenager as he hung his head in his hands.

“Peter, why don’t you just tell Michelle how you feel about her?”

“What if she doesn’t like me back?”

“I am fairly certain that’s not the case. Peter you’ve been crazy about Michelle since I met you. Just go for it. Don’t let unspoken things keep you apart,” you finished sadly.

He looked up at you with a pout.

“Do you really think I have a shot?”

“Absolutely. But you’ll never know if you don’t ask.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

“I usually am. But, Peter, I need you to make me a promise.”

He watched you warily.


“Whatever happens between you and Michelle, don’t forget you’re an amazing young man. And I’m proud of you for being a good friend to Gwen.”

“Thanks, y/n. You’re pretty amazing yourself.”

You smiled softly at the young man in front of you. He had grown so much in the time you had known him, but you couldn’t help but ruffle his hair.

“Now, go take another look at that Chemistry problem.”

“I’m glad I can talk to you about this stuff.”

“I’m always here to listen.”

He grinned at you before heading back into the compound. You followed behind more slowly.

“Dammit, I just forgot a conversion factor!” you heard him yell as you fluffed the pillows in the living room.

“Language, Peter! There are ladies present. Did you learn anything when you went to cotillion?” You shouted back.

“You swear more than I do.”

“Damn right I do,” you smirked as he pegged an eraser at you.

You made dinner for yourself and Peter and sent him home with leftovers for May. You owed her for all the adorable photos she’d sent you of Peter getting ready for cotillion.

“Okay, ace your exam and then go clear things up with Michelle. Good luck tomorrow.”

He tugged on the straps of his backpack tightening them as Happy waved impatiently from the car.

“Go, get out of here. Let me know how everything goes.”

“I will. Good night, y/n.”

After triple checking the alarm system, you decided to make a batch of brownies before you took a bath and settled in to watch a movie.

“FRIDAY, please turn on my ‘Guilty Pleasure’ playlist.”  

“Yes, miss y/l/n.”

You sang along to the greatest hits of the ‘90 and early 2000’s as you mixed the brownie batter. Baby One More Time came on while you were cleaning up and you couldn’t help but take a dance break. Your body remembered moves your brain had long forgotten and you were soon performing the dance routine you had learned to the song. You finished by popping your feet together and dropping your head on the final beat.  

The slow, deliberate clapping filled you with dread, and you froze in embarrassment. It got louder as your audience moved closer. Even when they were right beside you, you didn’t turn to look at them.

“That was quite the dance number, doll,” he murmured in your ear.

“Bucky, you’re home!” You gasped as you spun to hug him.

He gathered you up in a bear hug, lifting you a foot off the floor.

“I’m home,” he whispered as he set you down, keeping you close.

“Where are Scott and Sam?”

“Stowing their gear. They’ll be so sad they missed the show. Seriously, was that choreography?” he teased.

“Shut. Up.”

You smacked his chest expecting him to let go but he didn’t. Concerned, you leaned back as far as his embrace would allow you to get a good look at him, searching for signs of injury. Apart from a few scratches here and there you couldn’t find anything. Despite his jokes, he looked wearier than normal.

The dulcet tones of N’SYNC didn’t exactly fit the mood so you asked FRIDAY to kill the music.

“Rough mission?” You guessed, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Just frustrating. Thor was right to be concerned. There are definitely hostiles getting through, but we kept just missing them.”

His hands clenched into fists against your back. You slid your hands over his shoulders and down to his biceps, rubbing up and down.

“Maybe the others are having better luck.”

“They’re not. Steve sent out orders to regroup back here ASAP. The others will be here in the next day or so.”

He hung his head in defeat.

“Hey,” you said softly, bending down and tilting your head so you could make eye contact. “We’ll figure it out. We always do. Look,” you sighed when he didn’t respond. “There’s nothing more you can do tonight. Why don’t you go work out or do whatever you need to do and then come back?”

Bucky pulled you back to him, burying his face in your hair.

“What if this is what I need to do?” he whispered.

“Then stay right here,” you murmured against his neck. “I missed you.”  

“I missed you too, doll.”

You were so lost in the moment you jumped when Sam’s voice filtered in from the hall, meeting Bucky’s gaze for a moment before pulling away. You returned to cleaning up while Bucky sat down at the island.

“Are those brownies I smell?” Sam asked his he took a deep whiff from the doorway.

“Yes, sir.”

“This is why you’re my favorite teammate,” Scott smiled at you.

“Welcome home, guys.”

You hugged both of them hello before tugging the mixing bowl away from Bucky and grabbing a spoonful. Sam and Scott followed suit, leaning over from their side of the island.

“Are you even baking anything? The bowl is practically full,” he teased. He was clearly trying not to let his moodiness show through.  

“Hardly,” you scoffed, before looking at the bowl and estimating. “That’s only like a third.”

You swatted his hand away as he reached to stick his finger in the bowl.

“No way, Barnes. You can’t complain about how much leftover batter there is and then take advantage of it. Also have you ever heard of utensils?!”

“Whatever you say, doll.”

You shook your head and stuck your spoon back in the bowl while he smirked. Scott and Sam opted to wait for the final product and left the majority of the mix for you while they searched for something more filling. Once they settled on burgers, Sam went to grill and Scott went to call Cassie, leaving you to finish off the batter.

When he reached out tap you on your right shoulder, every part of you knew that it was a crappy distraction technique, but you couldn’t stop your head from turning. You weren’t remotely surprised when you turned back and the bowl was now out of reach and Bucky had stuck your spoon in his mouth. What you were surprised by was the fact that his hand came down on the counter effectively pinning you there.

He met your questioning gaze with an imploring one. You instantly knew that he needed the physical contact so you squeezed between him and the counter, perching on the edge of the stool between his legs.

“It’s good to be home,” he murmured as his right arm clamped tight around your waist drawing you as close as possible.

A/N: I just can’t stop myself from making Bucky just a little bit sad and a lot a bit cuddly. Feed back is welcome as always! And thank you for reading! 

Tags are open! 

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@lectoracronica @whatisanniedoin @imactuallyverysocial
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Bucky/Seb Tag List: @waywardpumpkin @sadanddeadsoul

Permanent Tag List: @iamwarrenspeace

Part 12

Title: Ragged Diagonal
Fandom: “Voltron: Legendary Defender”
Summary: No one wants Allura to marry Lotor, but she may have to out of a duty to her people and her bloodline.
Ships: Shallura
Warnings: Barely-edited, language
Author’s Notes: “The line of life is a ragged diagonal between duty and desire.” -William R. Alger

For the MAS server and especially our Overlord, @smolsarcasticraspberry ! Shiro’s not technically Altean here, but the Magical part sure applies! Also, thanks to @materassassino for the beta! <3
(6102 Words - Also on AO3)

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Bloodlust Day 2: Heated Glances


Live for me.

I am your salvation.


Bulma is surprised to find that in the lower domains of the castle exists a pristine laboratory. She had expected Vegeta to give her some sort of abandoned room to work in; maybe an old bedroom or cellar filled to the brim in cobwebs, but instead she stands in a perfectly constructed room. There are enough candles in various sectors on the walls so that she doesn’t have to strain her eyes to work, and while most of the equipment is outdated, there is an abundance of tools to aid her in getting the job done. Bulma feels a familiar dance in her chest that causes her to smile, as she drinks everything in. She hadn’t thought that such an intricate laboratory existed outside of her fathers, yet whomever operated here was very passionate about experimenting and seeking out truths.

“Wow,” she breathes, running her fingers over glass jars filled with a slim green liquid, “Absolutely amazing.” The container houses some sort of specimen, a bird perhaps, with a peculiar head. Her curiosity gets the best of her and she turns to ask Vegeta about the findings, but he shuts the heavy wooden door and disappears behind it. Bulma frowns as she studies the place in which he just stood only moments prior. He hadn’t looked her way since their incident the night before, only encountering her to fly her to her father’s home and back. The sun was just beginning to say hello on their return, so she knows that he will sleep now after having properly shown her the lab. Bulma stretches her arms out as a yawn escapes her mouth, and she realizes that she should probably rest herself. Living with someone such as Vegeta means that she operates on his sleeping schedule, and her night has begun to start with the rising sun. But she’s excited to work in a lab after months of having nothing to do, and she doesn’t want to starve her need any longer. She digs through her sack of supplies and eagerly gets to work.


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anonymous asked:

"Stop being so cute" with Junkrat~? (*´꒳`*) (I'm Junkrat thrash, tbh)

IT KINDA TURNED INTO A CUTE THING.. more Reader X Junkrat then Junkrat x Reader but I had fun working on it. Non gender prounouns.

It wasn’t often that Roadhog was gone for so long to get supplies and leaving the two of you alone, not that you minded time alone with the smaller junker but you both worried about your large and in charge friend. Jamison was bored and had already made a fresh batch of bombs, tinkered with his fake leg and was now looking at you for something to entertain him.

“Maybe he’s found a safe place to stay the night, he does that sometimes” you said with a shrug as you felt the others wild eyes on you, asking more with his bouncing leg and the way his eyes flicked from you to the door every so often.

“Rioght” he said with a nod and flopped down on the sofa next to you, you’d been reading to pass the time, the shitty TV was so bad you could only get two channels.

Junkrat soon got comfortable, his hands fidgety and needed something to keep them busy, he looked over at you before laying back, kicking his legs over the side of the crappy scruffy couch, not caring that his head was now on your book as he stared up at you.

“Do you mind?” you asked and moved your book debating about just putting it on his face and carrying on.

“Nah not really mate” a loud cackle came from your lap as you stared down at him with a raised brow.

His hands were now playing with the waistband of his shorts, fiddling with some of the loose fibers, picking at them and pulling all the while nuzzling back into your lap. He moved his hand and reached for your face, his flesh hand started to run over your skin, along your jaw and behind your ear, playing with the hair at the side.

“Neva realized ya hair woz so soft” a very shy and small giggle found it’s way out of the junker.

You rolled your eyes at him but didn’t mind, when Mako wasn’t around he needed more attention, a little affection because he got ever so nervous when his bodyguard and long term friend wasn’t in the picture. You both knew he was going to be fine, better off then either of you on your own but still.

You reached down and stroked his hair, running fingers over his bald spots and playing with the filthy, greasy roots, he closed his eyes, you didn’t think you’d ever heard Junkrat make that noise before. He pretty much purred and leaned into the touches as you carries on running fingers through the patchy tufts of light blonde hair. Your fingers felt sticky from the oil residue but you didn’t mind, it was nice seeing the twitchy blonde settled down.

Junkrat was always such an erratic ball of energy and now he was purring at your gentle touches and leaning in more. His eyes fluttered open, staring at you when he sensed you’d stopped touching the matted mess on his head. “Oi, I woz enjoin’ tha” he moaned.

This time you chuckled a little when he shifted, almost pouted because the contact he’d been enjoying stopped. He took your hand and put it back in his hair, making the hand rub his scalp before you gave in and started to sweep the hair back , rubbing softly again. That grin appeared back on his face, more chuckles as he got comfy.

You had never seen Junkrat so at peace and content, his leg had stopped bouncing, his hands still and not grasping at everything and anything to play with, not to mention the manic look that was always across his pointy fetchers looked so calm..

Junkrat let out a little chirp noise which seemed like a moan and a giggle all at once as you scratched behind his ears. His eyes snapped open and he was shocked at the noise that he had let out… he stared at you almost daring you to make fun of him…

“Stop being so cute”

Junkrat frowned and sent you a look when you said that, you could see a little pink under all the layers of soot on his face as you rubbed his temples with both hands, a gentle massage. That same noise repeated and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Fucking fight me mate” Junkrat snapped and buried his dirty face against your once clean top and hissed.

You only wished Roadhog was here to see this…

We Intertwined: Ch. 12

An Ignis Scientia Story

Chapter 11 | AO3 | Chapter 13
Word Count: 1,660

When Ignis arrived at the house the next morning, he was surprised to see a number of measuring cups and spoons laid out on the kitchen counter. The kitchen was empty, but if he strained his ears, he could hear shuffling coming from within the walk-in pantry.

Raine emerged balancing a stack of ingredients in her hands, her tongue poking out of her mouth as she precariously made her way over to drop everything off. She nearly stumbled, but Ignis hurried over just in time to collect a bag of flour and the shortening from her hands before they slipped from her grasp.

“Oh, good morning,” she greeted, exhaling heavily so that the stray hairs that escaped her braid moved out of her face. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

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Opening Up (Waitress AU) ~ Mistress

A/N: got this idea from my third listen through of the show. Jenna is Pearl, Trixie is Dawn and Kim is Becky. Enjoy. Lemme know if I should continue, but I might just anyway because I’m loving writing it. Lyrics/lines taken directly from the show are in bold.

Summary: “Pearlie, it’s time to pee on a stick.”

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Unlikely Comforts, Angelica Schuyler x Reader

Prompt: Write-a-Thon Day Two: Femslash!

Word-count: 1,235

Warnings: I don’t remember if I cursed. I don’t think I did, but this is just for precaution’s sake. 

Note: I keep writing angst someone stop me my god. Bi!reader for this one right here, just putting it out there.

Welcome to day two! So far so good. Enjoy the angst!

It was Eliza’s day, not hers. Angelica was a lot of things, but a fool was not one of them.

She had managed to survive through the preparations, a long ten weeks of it, without showing an inch of the despair that was twisting up her stomach so badly she felt like she could wretch, that same despair that was simultaneously pushing down on her chest and pulling her heart up, the tug of war so violent she wondered how her soul had kept its shape. But surviving the day was another story.

It was Eliza’s day, not hers. Eliza’s and Alexander’s. And Angelica was nowhere near the equation; she was playing the extra today, and she both loved and reviled it. (She loved it because she couldn’t imagine being part of whatever this was. She couldn’t bear to ruin her beloved sister’s day with her emotional tribulations.) (She reviled it because, as much as she knew how wrong it was, she wanted to be part of it. She wanted to be the main role. The only role. She wanted to stand were Eliza stood, play the part of the blushing bride, hold Alexander’s hands and call him hers, for now and forever.) (But if you made Angelica pick, she’d play the role of a loving sister above the blushing bride any day.)

“What do you think?” Eliza asked now, spinning around in her white dress, as radiant as fresh sunlight and clean air. The sight of her sister so happy, so beautiful, made the ache in Angelica’s chest subside. If it would make her dear Eliza this happy every day, then she would make this sacrifice.

“You’re gorgeous ‘Liza,” Angelica said, smile sincere. She stood up from her place on Eliza’s bed and hugged her sister tight.

This is fine, she thought, letting go of Eliza and beaming, happily agreeing to help her with her veil, I will get through this. For Eliza.

The ceremony was beautiful.

The church was awash in the light of the new spring morning, the air sweet with the scent of fresh roses, and Alexander made a dashingly handsome figure at the altar, his somewhat smug face absolutely melting at the sight of Eliza, who walked in as if carried by a heavenly breeze. (The pang that crossed Angelica’s chest stung like a bolt of lightning. She, as always, ignored it.)

Vows were exchanged, and Alexander regaled them all with his poetry, eyes always on his bride, who in that moment, Angelica knew, was falling in love with him all over again. She knew; she felt the same way.

A blink of an eye and it was all over; the new man and wife kissed, and they sped back to the manor for the reception.

She had to blink past the sea of memories that arose as she raised her glass in a toast, the flicker of light that passed over her mind’s eye that made her recall the cold, bitter months of her and Alexander’s first meeting, of Alexander falling over his feet as he caught sight of her sister, of Eliza fluttering around the house in a twitterpated haze following the delivery of a fresh batch of letters. The harsh months of pretending, the act she had to play, the fake smiles and even faker bouts of glee whenever Eliza read from the letters aloud. (She had her own letters, stashed underneath her bed, but she wasn’t so stupid as to hope. She had comparisons, anyway; Alexander’s letters to her were no near as romantic as Eliza’s. Alexander was poetic by nature, but there was an undeniable caress to the words he penned for Eliza (he called her Betsy, privately), an almost tangible level of care to every syllable.)

She wished her new brother-in-law happiness, and almost immediately found her way to the bar. It took everything in her to not collapse on the bar top, but she was a woman, and if anything, she knew how to act like one.

There was a rumble of glass on wood, and something cold touched the Angelica’s elbow. She looked up.

It was Y/N. “You look like you need a drink,” she said, smile wide and full of mischief. Angelica looked down at the thing that bumped into her and laughed; it was a full shot of what looked like rum.

“I wouldn’t touch much of the liquor if I were you,” Angelica replied, but she picked up the glass anyway and upended it with ease.

Y/N looked impressed, and her expression steeled Angelica’s resolve for some reason. They took a shot each, exchanged small talk for a while as the festivities continued around them in a large multicolored blur.

Y/N was the daughter of a well-decorated army official, high up within the ranks of the Continental Army, astonishingly beautiful, and for some unknown reason, unattached and single. Angelica never understood that, although she herself was also of marrying age and famously not taken; Y/N just seemed to never find the right one for her. (There were rumors, of course, that Y/N had a sweetheart in the army that she had her heart reserved for, that that sweetheart’s location was now unknown, and that it broke the poor girl’s heart so beyond repair that her many suitors went on ignored.)

“I can’t seem to love weddings,” she was saying, she and Angelica on their third little glass of rum. Angelica felt warm, but not drunk. She knew her own limit, and she knew she would be stopping at three drinks.

“Me neither, my friend.” Angelica agreed, almost sardonic.

“Well,” Y/N said, and maybe it was the drink and maybe it was the lights, but something made her honest, “you can’t have liked this wedding. You are in love with the groom, are you not?”

Angelica felt her stomach drop to the soles of her shoes. “I love Alexander, truly. He is now my brother after all—“

Y/N waved her words away like they were some great cumbersome fly. “There is no need to hide your true feelings, Angelica. Heaven only knows that you must’ve been suffocating yourself under the weight of all the smoke and mirrors.”

A pulse of anger sped through Angelica. “Don’t talk as if you truly know me, Y/N.” she said, not helping the spite that made its way into her speech.

Y/N fixed her with a look so hateful that it shot right through her and heated her up from the inside.

“If there’s anything we have in common, Angelica, is that we both know of want.” Y/N said, looking her straight in the eye. “I see it in your face.”

Angelica turned away then, something that felt an awful lot like shame simmering in her chest.

“I know of want, Angelica.” Y/N said, and Angelica glanced at her again. She was no longer facing her; instead her eyes were fixed somewhere else. “I know of want very well.”

Angelica followed where Y/N was looking off too, and found her dear sister, laughing amongst a sea of faceless guests. Sharply, she turned back to the other girl, whose face was so honest and openly heartbroken and Angelica felt like gazing upon her was an act of voyeurism.

She looked away once more, eyes landing on Alexander, cutting his way through the crowd to get to Eliza.

Perhaps she was not alone after all.

(Tag list: @alexanderhamllton, @manuelmiranduh, @daveeddiggsit, @hamilbye, @diggs4life, @hamilsquad-writings, @imwritingmywayout, @jamiiton, @jordanfishest@musicalmiranda, @myalexanderhamiltonjustyouwait, @ourforgottenboleros, @protecting-my-legacy, @sarsarmadden, @secretschuylersister, @sunshinemiranda)

The Baker’s Daughter Pt.1

Genre: Fluff (a.k.a the only thing I pretty much know how to write lol).

Main Characters: Prince!Joshua (SVT) & Reader.

Author Notes: My first proper story on this blog! Please let me know what you think! I write as a hobby to help with stress relief and as a creative outlet, so I know it’s not 100% perfect (also, I suck at previews, so excuse the mess below).

Chapters: ½ (cliffhanger alert, oops).

Preview: Your family owns a small humble bakery on the outskirts of the palace grounds. You bring fresh baked bread to the castle every morning, only to meet Prince Joshua on one of your trips, thus the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Inevitably, you fall for his kindness and warm heart, however the Prince is expected to marry a princess before the year is out; and you are only the baker’s daughter.

The wooden basket of bread felt warm on top of my hands, it was a pleasant warmth with the autumnal breeze making my trips to the castle a little more on the colder side these days. The floury scent of the loaves, although masked by the covering cloth; swirled around my head as I was used to. I never got tired of my daily deliveries to the royal castle; the head cook was a lovely woman and the staff never seemed to be in a bad mood. All in all, it was nice break from the chaos that was my family with my parents, my two brothers and I, all under the same roof.  

Stepping into the back entrance of the castle, I walked briskly to the large kitchen which seemed to have a little more hustle and bustle about it then it usually did, with staff walking in panicked frenzy’s all over the place. I managed to dodge a few maids and guards before I finally managed to locate my drop of location nearest the large pantries.

“Good morning y/n dear” the old head cook greeted me with a smile as I placed my basket down on the large granite counter top.

“Sorry, I don’t have time for a chat this morning dear; the King and Queen have decided to throw a last minute ball, we are all in quite a rush to get things done” she explained to me, as she picked up the basket of bread and placed it on one of the nearest shelves.

“Ah, what’s the occasion?” I asked curious as to why such a large event such as a royal ball, would need to thrown so last minute.

“It’s a final attempt for me to find a suitor before winter arrives” a voiced answered me, but it was not the voice of the head cook. Instead the prince himself answered my question, making me turn around to face him.

“Fair enough, your parents have been patient with you haven’t they? Most princes are made to marry someone of their parents choosing; at least your parents are kind enough to let you choose your own suitor” I said, nudging his shoulder playfully. He smiled at me before rolling his eyes.

“Yes, but as I’ve said many times; I will only choose a suitor out of love, not a time requirement” he said.

“But enough of that talk, what are your plans for the rest of the morning?” Prince Joshua spoke again.

“I have no plans until this afternoon” I replied, wondering what activity he suggest we do today.

“Well if that’s the case, I have no duties to attend to til this afternoon; so why don’t we go for a quick ride out to the meadows” Joshua suggested, riding the horses out the meadows was one of our favourite things to do if one of us needed to get away from village life for an hour or two.

I nodded in agreement and Joshua lead the way out the the royal stables where we collected our horses and made the ride out of the castle grounds. Joshua and I had been visiting the same meadow over the past three years I had known him. We ended up in the large field originally after I had taken my final horse riding lesson and both of us wanted to go exploring. We sat in between the daisies and spoke about the pressures Joshua felt about becoming of age and his increasing responsibilities. It was a beautiful afternoon, and an eye opener as to my true feelings for him.

I understood why Joshua had so many admirers, he is so very easy to love; his heartwarming personality like a beacon of positive energy. He is the kindest man I know and because of him I had rejected every single suitor my own parents threw my way; none of them measured up to the glorious prince.

The ride out to the meadow had been silent, only did I speak when both of us had dismounted our horses.

“So what’s on your mind? Young Hansol, bringing you trouble again?” I asked, Hansol was Joshua’s younger brother; a good lad but a bit wild if you asked me.

“Hansol is always bringing me trouble, but no, that’s not why I wanted to come out here” he answered, I waited for him to continue.

“Are you going to attend the ball?” Joshua asked, taking a seat next to a small pile of orange crumpled up leaves. I shook my head;

“Probably not, I have told you many times that I am not of class to attend a ball; plus I cannot afford it” I said, wondering why he still insisted I attend his family’s parties as I sat down myself.

“Oh come on, my parents are fond of you; you make amazing cakes and you keep me from wondering off from my responsibilities” he said, reminding me of Joshua’s royal birthday ball last year. I had saved up enough gold to have my mother’s old ball gown adjusted and mended after Joshua pestered me for over a month about attending.

“Why exactly do you need me to attend this time? I have faith that you can pick a suitable wife on your own” I said, a hint of sarcasm in my voice. Although I had come to love Joshua with all of my heart, I had also come to accept that I could never be the one to marry him. Someone of my class and social status could never marry a prince; this was what I was raised believing. Despite this, my heart still hurt at the mention of Joshua loving another girl.

“I need you there for moral support! Come on, please; I can have a dress made for you, just please come so I don’t lose my mind” Joshua pleaded.

“Ah Joshua, seriously it’s too much trouble, I can’t…” I began, but Joshua cut me off.

“It is not. I spoke to my mother about it, she agreed and spoke to the dressmaker; they have been talking about the design all week. My mother seemed quite excited if I’m honest” he said. I blushed a little at the though of my causing trouble, but there was nothing I could do.

“I will speak to my parents about it Joshua, but I cannot make any promises” I said, making Joshua’s face light up, setting off the butterflies in my stomach.

Explaining the situation to my parents that night, they had been just as enthusiastic about my invitation to Joshua’s ball as Joshua himself was. It no question, if the queen had allowed you to have a dress made for you and attend a royal ball; then you were to comply. I had gone upstairs to bed with Joshua on my mind, hoping I could dream of him and a happy life where we could be together.

I awoke early the next morning to begin work on a cake for a family that lived down the street; it was for their sons 5th birthday. I also needed to prepare the fresh bread for the daily delivery to the castle. Not even ten minutes into my work I heard the front door to the bakery open, I lowered a bag of flour I was holding and walked into the main foyer of the bakery. Seeing Joshua in the bakery was not an uncommon sight, he often stopped by when he had a spare afternoon, either to ask me if I wanted to go for a adventure or if I was on baking duty that afternoon, he would watch me bake.

“Good morning Joshua, what brings you here this early?” I asked him as he continued to make his way though the bakery to join me back in the kitchen.

“I had to get up early for a meeting with my father and couldn’t go back to sleep so I hoped you might be awake” he said, pulling up a wooden stool to sit down on.

“Well you came on a good morning, I get to make a cake today as well as the regular bread” I said, mixing my ingredients for the cake in a large wooden bowl.

“Is there anything I can help with?” Joshua asked. He loved learning new things, as he watched me make all sorts of loaves and cakes and pastries; he would often ask questions and when he thought he understood everything, he would ofter to help.

“You can knead the bread dough if you want, do you remember how to do that?” I said, pointing to the multiple bowls of proved dough I had sitting out on one of the large wooden counters.

“Of course I remember, what shape would you like them; baker y/n” Joshua said, making both of us laugh slightly at the nickname. He began to knead the first batch of white bread loaves when he spoke up again.

“Actually there is another reason for my visit” he informed me, and I raised my eyebrow in confusion.

“Oh yes, and what would that be my prince?” I said, placing the finished cake in the oven to bake.

“You’re first dress fitting session is at noon” Joshua said, winking at me.

A week had now passed since my first ever dress fitting session and the ball was tomorrow night. It was a surreal feeling having both the royal dressmaker and the Queen herself, obsess about even the smallest details about this ball gown that was decided to be made out of baby pink silk. Joshua had explained to me that as the Queen never gave birth to a daughter, she had always wanted to have a dress made for someone other than herself, it made the experience more enjoyable then first anticipated.

Joshua & Hansol had sat in on a few of my visits to the dressmaker, mainly to keep me company but Joshua would remain oddly quiet throughout, unless his mother asked him the occasional question. He also became oddly distant; throughout the week that past, not once did he come and visit me, nor did he come and find me in the mornings on my deliveries. Of course I understood he was busy, but it still had me worried nonetheless.

I was currently sat in my family’s living room where my mother was doing my hair. She was pulling strands left and right as my brothers; Seungkwan & Chan sat in front of the fireplace, studying.

“Y/n, why are you going to this stupid ball anyway?” Chan asked me, probably more upset that he couldn’t accompany me.

“Because Chan, prince ‘loverboy’ invited her and as mother says; NEVER turn down a royal invitation” my other brother Seungkwan answered for me, making me roll my eyes.

“Seungkwan, for the finally time; Joshua is not my lover; I am not suitable for him” I said, lowering, my head at the last part.

“Don’t be ridiculous y/n” my mother said, yanking my head back up by my hair, I winced a little at the pain but said nothing.

“Prince Joshua would be so lucky to have a wife like you, if you really love him as much as Seungkwan seems to think; you should tell him. And in fact, tomorrow night is the perfect time to tell him!” My mother continued, making me blush and send a nasty look Seungkwan’s way.

“Sorry y/n, but it is painfully obvious how you adore him” Seungkwan said, making me sigh.

“Whatever, but she cannot marry him; you promised you would never leave me y/n” Chan said, looking at me now with sad eyes, I gave him a reassuring smile in return.

“Do not worry Chan, the king and queen would never allow their son to marry the bakers daughter”.