oven hell


Imagine being the best friend of one of the most famous fuckboy in town, Chris Schistad. And then one day, you need his help to bake a cake.

Authors note:
NOT ROMANTIC. Also, this is my very first imagine, so I hope you enjoy it. It’s a lil big, so I promise the next ones are gonna be shorter and better! Also, english is not my first language, then ignore the errors. Hahahahah thank you!

Masterlist ❁ 


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Her Own

@fictober @today-in-fic

She’d never owned her own home. She lived in five different houses with her family, called Maggie’s current place home since she was eight, leased her condo on a yearly basis and bunked in 427 different hotel rooms in the last two years but now, as she walked into the dusty, slightly sad, sagging, weather-beaten gray farmhouse, she felt the smallest of flames flare in her chest.

She had her own home.

She had her own Mulder.

She had a place to come to when she needed to hide from the world … she had her Mulder to drag over to their couch and cuddle against … she had her own set of creaking stairs complete with step that cracked like a gunshot if you stepped directly in the middle of it … she had a faucet that dripped and a back door that stuck … she had a front porch that begged for a hammock and a living room that begged for a squashy chair to nap in on Sunday afternoons …

She had a bed to share and a raised toilet seat to argue over …

She had a family of ladybugs living in the kitchen window that she secretly named Stan and Louise …

And she had free air to breathe and windows without blinds.

Mulder found her in the kitchen, running a finger along the edge of the chipped Formica countertop, the hint of worship on her lips as they turned up an eighth of an inch, smile forming where worry lines had parked themselves the day she shook his hand.

He would have watched her forever but the corner of his box slipped his fingers and toppled, crashed to the ground, metallic clangs muffled by cardboard.

Startled from her reverie, hand going to heart automatically, she raised the eyebrow at him, “if you just busted my toaster oven, there’ll be hell to pay.”

Not missing a beat, he pulled his wallet out, tossing it in her direction, “just take it all now. I’ll drop at least two more boxes before this nightmare ends.”

Carelessly chucking wallet to drainboard, she hiked herself up on the counter, swinging feet banging askew cupboard door in a low rhythm, “come here.”

“Are you going to kill me? Seriously, if you’re going to kill me, I’d rethink it simply from the standpoint that you need somebody to help carry in the heavy stuff.” Shuffling towards her, head hanging in mock guilt, “and the couch is still in the back of the truck.”

Counter providing eye-level boost to shortness, she twinkled at him, not giving a rat’s hairy butt about the toaster oven or the couch, “I want to introduce you to a few someones.”

Instead of words, he gave her that look of his that used to send her into fits of scientific loquaciousness the likes of which he’d never encountered but now made her insides dissolve in a liquid dilemma … did she kiss him and christen the sturdy counter or keep decorum and save action for after dark?

Deep breath in, she pointed towards the ladybug family, “this is the Dotting family. The bigger one is Stan and the smaller is Louise.”

“Hello, Stan. Hello, Louise.”

He greeted the ladybugs without hesitation.

Screw decorum.

Heat Wave (requested)

Asshole is a term of endearment.


Anon, you’re in for an adventure….

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader, feat Taehyung

Word count: 4,807

Genre: Fluff, Angst, HighSchool!AU

Content/warnings: I hope you don’t mind a bit of swearing. Other than that it’s quite tame. Kind of crack-y

A/N: Sorry this took so long, I’m terrible at requests. Don’t get me wrong, I love doing them, they just don’t come as naturally as stories I come up with myself. I assume you wanted the reader to end up with Jungkook? I hope this is okay enough for you 😬

It’s hot as fuck outside.

By the time you get up the steps to homeroom, you’re drenched in sweat. The air conditioner seems to be broken once again, and opening the windows just lets in more stifling heat. You’re glad that the school uniform is a skirt and not pants like the boys have to wear. If you had to wear pants in this weather, you would probably jump off the roof. Still, your standard issue white button down is suffocating, and you try to undo as many of the buttons as you can without getting in trouble.

As you settle into your desk, more students come in, sweaty and panting. Your classroom is on the fourth floor, and on days like these, you wished the elevators were available for student use. But alas, they’re for staff only.

The bell rings, signaling the beginning of the school day. The teacher has just begun the morning announcements when the door crashes open, and in walk Jeon Jungkook and Kim Taehyung.

Keep reading

Not Much Of A Failure

Word Count: 1,404

Triggers: Theres a cuss word, but thats really it!


   Roman knew he wasn’t the most intelligent of all the traits (It’s not like he would ever openly admit that though, his ego wouldn’t allow it.) But he did know quite a few things for certain, like that Disney movies were only the best things of all time, that he clearly had the best fashion sense, and..well, and even he knew that he needed a reality check sometimes.

That’s probably why a few days ago, he realized that he had a crush on..no, that he loved, Virgil.

Virgil was his reality check, he always pulled him down when his fantasies got a little too wild, yes, he was a nightmare to deal with sometimes, but sometimes a reality check was necessary.  It wasn’t only that that led to the fanciful trait falling for him though. His awkward little smiles, the smirks, that shy look in his eyes whenever he got a compliment..yes, there was no doubt about it, the prince was completely smitten.

Virgil was the Snow White to his Prince Charming. No, Virgil would never be Snow White..the Meg to his Hercules? That was close, but it still didn’t feel quite right.. Oh! That was perfect! He was the Nancy to his Prince Edward! That was perfect! And it gave him an idea.

A part of him wanted to go over the top, to pour every ounce of his being into this one event! However, he knew Virgil didn’t like those kinds of things. So he knew it was best to keep it simple.

It took a while to get everything ready, he had even enlisted Logan’s and Patton’s assistance in it, swearing them both to secrecy. Roman knew he wouldn’t be able to get it all done in one day. So, for once he tried to take his time. The first day he planned everything out, that way everything would be perfect. He wasn’t going to mess up on anything, he was sure about that. That night he could hardly sleep he was so excited.

The next day, Patton tried to keep Virgil busy while Logan helped him with setting everything up. Then, when the evening rolled around, Patton and Logan both left so that everything could continue as planned. Roman had ended up decorating the common room with some simplistic, but clearly Disney inspired decorations, and had even lit candles and dimmed the lights to make it as romantic as possible. Roman ws checking everything off in his head. Living room decorated? Check. Candles? Check. Chicken in the oven? Check.

Now all that was left was to wait for Virgil. Roman knew it shouldn’t be that long until the dark trait would come downstairs. After all, he had pretty much been stuck upstairs all day! Roman let himself get distracted by his thoughts as he waited, daydreaming about how this would all go. They’d have a romantic dinner, Roman would tell him how he felt, and then afterwards, they would both cuddle and watch Disney movies. It would be perfect!
He was pulled out of his thoughts by the smell of smoke. He blinked, quickly realizing that the smoke was coming from the oven and opened it, immediately stepping back and covering in his face at the smoke that bloomed from the oven, coughing.

Virgil could smell the burnt chicken and smoke from his room, he had been relaxing when he smelled it, quickly standing and running downstairs to see what was going on.  He ran down into the kitchen just in time to see Roman summoning a fire extinguisher, putting out a small fire in the oven. “What the hell just happened!?”

 “A disaster. That’s what.” Roman sighed as the small fire, setting the device aside. He hadn’t wanted it to end like this, who would?  He leaned against the counter, head in his hands for a moment before he turned to face Virgil.

 Virgil glanced around the room. The candles, the decorations…”I can see that much..what were you even doing here, Princey?” The dark trait spoke, frowning and eyeing Roman. He was curious as to what Roman was trying to do here and why. The smell of smoke still filled the room as Roman glanced away from Virgil at the mess before returning it back to Virgil. “I..well..” For once, the princely trait seemed to be unable to find his words. “I was trying to set up a romantic evening, and I got too wrapped up in my thoughts.” He finally managed to admit it after a few minutes. He didn’t really know what to expect. Probably some yelling, maybe an argument. But instead Virgil just nodded. “I knew something would end up going wrong.”

“Yes well… Wait what?!” Roman blinked, eyes going wide, “You knew something would go wrong?! How did you know..Did one of them tell you?!” He was about to go into a rant. Virgil rolled his eyes. “Calm down Princey. They didn’t tell me. I figured it out for myself.”

“How!? I was so careful!” Roman frowned, he had figured that the only possible way Virgil could have figured out was if one of the others told him. How could he have figured it out on his own when Roman had been so careful that this would be a surprise?

“You aren’t that good at hiding things,” Virgil stated pointedly. “Yesterday all of a sudden you started getting excited for no reason, and writing things down in a notebook for some reason, and then today Patton kept trying to keep me from going downstairs all day and then he just suddenly decides to go back to his room. It was pretty obvious you were planning something.” He listened closely as he spoke, upset at himself for how Virgil figured out. If he had tried a little harder to keep it a secret, maybe it would have worked.

Roman frowned, even he knew he really messed up this time. After all, he had pretty much burned down part of the kitchen. “.. I should probably start cleaning up.” He spoke quietly, starting to feel terrible he was going to go grab a broom from the closet when he paused, hearing Virgil’s voice. “Huh..and here I thought that you were more of a ‘The show must go on’ type person.”

 Roman turned around, curious as to what Virgil meant, “What?”  He asked, running a hand through his hair. “I just thought that you would still be determined to continue on, even if you pretty much just killed the dinner.” Virgil moved so he was leaning against the counter, his eyes on him. Roman perked up a little at that, Virgil was right. “I suppose you are correct..but, that does depend on one thing. Would you want to continue?”

The dark trait nodded, “That sounds good to me.” He spoke the words with his usual tone, but there was one of his rare, small smiles on his face. “Alright then,” Roman moved to take both of Virgil’s hands into his own. “In that case, I want to take a moment to apologize again. I’ve said many hurtful things to you in the past, and even after I said I accepted you I still continued to do so. It was very..unprincely of me. And I realized a few days ago the reason behind those behaviors. Virgil..I love you.” The entire time Roman was speaking his eyes were on their hands, only raising them to meet Virgil’s own eyes when he was done.

 The first thing he noticed was the blush on his counterparts face, “I love you too, Princey..” Roman grinned widely once he heard those words, who knew that five simple words could make him so happy? He felt himself leaning in slightly, wanting to kiss him before he stopped himself. He didn’t want to make Virgil uncomfortable after all. So his surprise was reasonable when Virgil ended up leaning forward to kiss him.

It was only a moment later when Virgil moved back, the blush that had been on his face had only gotten darker, and he was sure that he was blushing as well. “That was..wow..” Roman was grinning like an idiot, while Virgil looked away. “Lets just..lets go watch a movie okay?”

Roman nodded, letting go of one of Virgil’s hands, but kept a soft grip on the other one as he led him to the couch, his mistake didn’t ruin the night after all.

anonymous asked:

I remember that time I find out how Plath died. Right after reading The Bell Jar. I googled it. Out of sheer curiosity. The first image; of her legs sticking out of the oven. Scared the hell outta me. I couldn't sleep for several days. I never read any of her books after that. Can't bring myself to, knowing that she died so horribly.

…I am unsure whether this image is even real? I mean the actual oven image. It floated around on flickr several years ago but I never saw a proper source, just this black and white image and underneath something along the lines of “Plath with her head in the oven”, blah. The circumstances are real. Surely, the concept alone can be quite traumatizing to the eye. But there’s certainly way more to Plath than the way she chose to put an end to her life and Idk, I suppose I cannot relate to you at all in this. She’s a glorious poet and her work (especially her poetic work but also her diary work in my opinion) is of immense value. You perhaps need time to process this & read her at some other point but…well. Don’t let an image, conceptual or not, prevent you from reading this woman. She was a fine woman and a fine writer.

Birthday Wish - Alfie Solomons One Shot

It’s my birthday and I’ll write smut if I want to.

Birthday Wish

Her heels clicked out a warning regarding her dark mood as she rapidly walked along the cobbled streets. This day couldn’t end fast enough. All she wanted was to go home and climb into that big copper tub and soak every worry and ache away. Forget this day had ever happened. She snorted a loud humpfh as she skirted around other pedestrians. One shoulder knocking off a large gentleman’s and nearly sending her teetering off balance. As she fought to remain upright, the thought came sourly; yeah, just forget you’d ever been born.

Well that was a bit dramatic. Not to mention ungrateful. However, it was her birthday and also just about the worst day ever. Work had been busier than ever, with barely a moment to pause. Her new hosiery had a run in it not ten minutes after arriving at the bakery. Worst of all was an entire batch of bread ruined due to an incorrect oven setting. She had hoped her boss would let her go early - maybe even take her to lunch. But no, he’d been his typical grumpy, volatile self all morning. When she had sought him out in his office to say she wasn’t feeling well, he wasn’t even there. Had “gone for the rest of the day on some important task” his assistant had said.

Well wasn’t that just fine!!! HE gets to leave for a special errand, but the birthday girl spends the day covered in flour and buried in his paperwork.

Well hell no, if she would!!

She told that foolish boy assistant as much and marched straight out of the empty office. Then right on out the distillery back doors. Ollie thought about given chase; he had warned Alfie about not saying anything to his girl on her special day. But the tough gangster had insisted he had it all under control. Ollie shook his head and gave up the idea of chasing Alyona down the streets. Especially given her mood when she departed. He smirked a little imagining the tirade about to be unleashed on his employer when she arrived home. Maybe he’d sit down behind the big desk and have a cup of coffee while he imagined the scenario. Ollie was halfway to his office and the coffee pot when he suddenly turned on his heel in retreat to the desk once more. Picking up the phone he heaved a sigh. He still had to work with the man after all.

Alfie heard the key in the door from the second floor of the manor and came to stand at the top of the stairs. She breezed through the door, slamming it so hard he winced and the dog backed out of the room. Her clutch and keys were tossed upon the hutch and heels kicked off; one skittering down the hallway towards the kitchen. A mumbled fuckin hell tossed after it.

Alfie cringed from his position above. Well, there was no doubt she was his woman, as he heard the stream of curses continue towards the kitchen. A door slammed, followed by the bang of glass on the table. Guess Ollie weren’t bluffing after all. Suddenly silence from the kitchen and slowly he descended the stairs. He found her by the doors to the backyard, eyes wide and mouth ajar, the glass of whatever something strong and straight she poured tilting in her hand. Only her eyes moved slowly about the room, taking in the dozen or so bouquets of flowers. So many colourful blooms that she could not even name them all. And in the centre of each fragrant bunch was a simple daisy.

The breakfast table was set with china and candles, and it was only now as she stood wondering how - her nose caught the delicious aroma that permeated the room. As she turned towards the oven, her eyes caught Alfie standing leaning against the wall just outside the kitchen entrance. Eyes resting on her and the smile lighting his face.

“Ya thought I forget yeah?”

She could only nod and buried her face in her hands. Her mind recalling all the hateful words that had rolled about her head the long walk home.

“Yeah well see, I didn’t right. Happy birthday beautiful.”

The tears slipped down her cheeks, as she thought how yet again she had under estimated him. Thought the worst - when here he had left his business to come home and do his best for her. Her eyes dropped to the floor.

“I’m wretched.”

He crossed the room and stood before her, hands in his pockets.

“Ollie said ya weren’t likely to arrive home in the best of moods.”

"I’m sorry Alfie. I don’t deserve all this … I was so hurt and angry …”

He finally drew her into his arms ; felt the whole weight of her sag upon him. All he could think about was how he loved the way the top of her head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck. His chin resting at her temple where he kissed her softly.

"Nah love. I should have said something this morning before I left.” His hand rubbed down the length of her back. “Would have been more proper than letting ya go half the day thinking I’d forgotten. Or didn’t care.”

She leaned around his burly frame and plucked the daisy from the nearest bouquet, inhaling it’s sweet scent.

"Ya did really good love.” She pulled his mouth to her own. “Mmmmm, real good.”

"Yeah? Because listen sweetie, this is only the start.” At her raised brow, he took her hand and led the way upstairs. “Come on.”

When they reached the landing he proceeded towards the master bath, she could see light flickering from the hallway. When she stepped inside, her breath caught. The bathtub stood steaming full and surrounded by more flowers and candlelit filled the room. A bottle of champagne chilling nearby. The final touch was a tray of strawberries dipped in chocolate. She almost swooned on the tile floor. Instead she clasped his hand.

"Alfie, I can’t believe ya did all this. No one has ever …” her voice caught and the tears flowed once more.

Alfie was more practical and simply pulled her close and began slowly undressing her. His eyes capturing her own and holding her with that steady way of his. His hands roamed over her bare flesh, stoking all the flames to burning. She reached for his shirt buttons but he pushed her hand away.

"Ach, this is just for ya tonight love. Get in and don’t come out until I can see yer smile in those stunning eyes of yers, right.”

She kissed him soundly and then didn’t hesitate to climb in the soothing heat, leaning back with a long sigh. Alfie handed her a crystal glass of champagne and brought one of the decadent berries to her mouth. She licked her lips, savouring the blending of flavours; noted how his brow raised.

"Sure ya don’t want to join me?”

He stared at her long and hard, as though memorizing every detail. Eyes raking down the length of her lithe form, lingering on the swell of her breasts just below the water. Recalling the first time he had glimpsed her just like this. How he had wanted to climb into that tub and lose himself in the feel of her. And now he knew exactly how good she felt.

And he had dinner in the oven.

Fuckin hell and damn, when did ya get domesticated anyhow!?

"I can’t believe, right … that I’m even saying… hell probably gonna regret it … but I got to keep an eye on the dinner.”

It was unclear who was more shocked. Alfie that he was turning down sex, or Alyona that he had actually cooked.

"Not Sabini’s?”

He snorted in offense. “Fuck no love. I wanted it to be special for ya.”

His eyes sought hers, the hesitation and uncertainty barely concealed. She grabbed his arm and pulled him back for a hearty kiss.

"I love you Alfie. And you have made it special.” The look of relief that crossed his face did not go unnoticed. She whispered softly by his ear, “and I know you’ll make it extra special later too.”

Their gazes locked, and mouths merged and when he finally raised his head again

"There’s that smile I love. Happy birthday love.”

He left the bathroom with the instruction to take her time, and went back to continue dinner preparations. When Alyona finished in the bath and wandered back to the master bedroom wrapped in one of his huge fluffy towels, she saw a beautifully wrapped package lying on the bed. Quickly she untied the ribbon and lifted the box lid to discover a delicate lace negligee. She touched the silk fabric in awe. Never had she owned something so beautifully made. It was art. And the most beautiful shade of soft coral. She knew immediately he had picked it out to compliment her eyes. Grinning wide she donned the garment - and nothing else. Opting to leave her long tresses knotted, with stray curls hanging down her graceful neck, she proceeded downstairs to the kitchen. It was aglow in candle light but she could see Alfie lifting a dish from the oven and setting it upon the cooling rack.

When she glided into the room, he immediately straightened; eyes taking in every inch of her.

"Fuck me.”

She laughed softly, “Well that is my birthday wish.”

Alfie didn’t waste a second this time, before closing the space between them.

"That roast really needs to sit for a spell yeah. Brings out the flavour … or some shit, I don’t fuckin know. Hell love, look at ya.”

Before she could reply, or even catch her breath, she was lifted on top the counter and his mouth was ravishing her own. His hands already climbing up her thighs, fingers reaching for the panties that weren’t there and meeting her wet centre directly. He groaned and pulled back to raise a brow.

"Damn. Kinda feels like it’s my birthday, eh?”

She grabbed him by the front of the trousers, and pulled him back. Slender fingers slipping past the waistband to tease the tip of his hard cock. Her other hand grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him near.

"Well it’s not, so get over here and make my wish come true.”

"Bit pushy ain’t ya?”

But before she could use that smart mouth again, Alfie pushed her back to lay upon the counter, hitching the lingerie up to her waist. Strong hands lifted her hips, while his head dove between her spread thighs. With expert use of his skilled fingers, mouth and tongue - he fulfilled that wish. Several times over.

When she finally raised up, eyes and body limp with spent desire, he unfastened his trousers and drove inside her in one swift movement. His need driving him hard and fast; thrusting into her with such passion dishes rattled within the cupboards below. She clung to his broad shoulders and wrapped her legs about him like a vise. A surprised gasp that he’s taking her to dizzying heights yet again. Both of them desperately seeking release from the tightening coils that set fire to every nerve, every cell and lingered on the edge of bursting. Until finally with a few deep and slow thrusts, the flames finally ignited and spread their heat along every limb and they fell into the inferno together. Alfie’s chest heaved with the effort given and her head dropped to his shoulder. She pressed a kiss along the side of his neck and he could only murmur in reply.

"Oh god Alfie. This is the best birthday ever.”

He hugged her close. Buried his face in the soft curls that had tumbled free. When his eyes met her own, they held a hint of his teasing nature.

"And here I thought based on what Ollie said, I’d have to give ya a proper spanking when ya got ‘ere.”

She smoothed the silk negligee back down her hips and hopping off the counter, cast him a sly wink as she sashayed over to the table.

"Well love, we haven’t eaten yet. Ya never know what might happen. Ain’t over till it’s over … right? And it’s still my birthday for another five hours.”

Alfie stood still, jaw slack. Until he clapped his hands together and gave her a wicked leer.

"Damn if it don’t feel like my own birthday.”

"Yeah well I’m starving now love, so why don’t we eat … and then we can get back to granting wishes.”

She cast her own wicked grin. “Eat up - yer gonna need the energy love.”

"Getting pushy again ain’t ya? Careful love - I might think yer picking a fight with me again.”

She laughed out loud. “Now there’s some wishful thinking.”

Fucking hell. Between those eyes and her sassy mouth of many talents - she was gonna be the death of him for sure. And he couldn’t for the life of him think of how he could wish for anything more.


Tag:  @thihaf , @badassbaker, @brinabear458, @banes-tshirt, @thewife101

Originally posted by sceawere

sineadfay  asked:

Not a fuck customers, but a fuck me! I got a hot oil burn today. It's right in between my baby and ring fingers on my left hand (I'm left handed and i make pizza from dough to oven). Hurts like hell. I just hope it doesn't blister :( The next 2 days are gonna be fun...

Cake- Phillip x Reader

Reader Gender- Not mentioned

Warnings- None

AU- Modern

A/N- I’m sorry this one is so short I just wanted to make sure I got something out for you guys. Because I got a request, I’ll now have two Lucifer x Readers after this followed by Jealousy in Laf’s POV so look forward to that!

You were sitting, bored, in the living room of your dorm, rewatching the first season of Orange is the New Black. It was a regular Saturday night and you were stuck at home, doing nothing. Despite your complaining though, you were much happier here than at the club your friends had invited you to.

In the midst of an episode, you got a text which was something you weren’t expecting to receive this evening.

‘I just bought 50 boxes of cake mix we need to start making cakes ASAP. Where are u?’ It read. You didn’t recognize the number but you were too intrigued to ignore it.

‘I think you have the wrong number but you can count me in.’  You replied.

‘Georges?’ They asked.

‘Nope. Y/N.’

‘Oh. Well do you happen to go to Harvard?’


‘Cool. My dorm number is 185. I’m so desperate pls help me.’

You laughed at his ability to trust you so easily. He must be desperate.

You slipped out of your sweatpants and pulled on a pair of black leggings so that you could look at least somewhat presentable. Deciding your shirt was good enough, you slipped on a pair of shoes and headed out.

Checking the map on your phone, you saw that 185 was located in Perkins Hall, the same dorm you were in. You went upstairs to where this person’s dorm was. Reaching the door quickly, you knocked three times.

The door opened to reveal a boy with wild curls tucked into a ponytail. Hundreds of freckles dotted his face and his wide smile lit up his hazel eyes.

“Y/n? Oh hey don’t we have theater together?” He asked.

“Oh yeah, we do, don’t we? Phillip, right?” You lightly remembered him from your majoring class.

“That’s me. Come in, come in, we have cakes to make.” He held the door open wider for you.

“Shouldn’t we go to one of the kitchens?” You answered your own question when you looked around and saw an oven in the corner of the open flat. “Oh nevermind, you have an oven. Wait how the hell did you get that up here? You live on the third floor.”

“My dad’s friend is really strong. His name is Hercules for christ’s sake.” He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Ah. So where’s the person you were actually trying to text?”

“Oh, yeah. He forgot and went off to a club with his girlfriend. He’s probably already drunk so I just let him be.”

“Alright, just you and me then. Let’s make some cakes.”


After spending a good hour and a half making cakes, you had four in the oven while the rest of the batter sat in the fridge. While waiting, you and Phillip sat on the couch, listening to music and playing stupid games to get to know each other better.

“Never have I ever…” you thought for a moment, thinking of the best question to beat Phillip, who only had one finger remaining, “kissed someone.” You finished.

He blushed lightly, moving his eyes to his feet whilst keeping his one finger in the air.

“Seriously? How?” You exclaimed.

“I don’t know, I’ve just never been with a person I really liked before. Most just aren’t like me.” He shrugged.

“Yeah but you’re attractive and sweet and funny! I’m sure you could have any girl- or guy- you want! Man some people must be really idiotic if they can’t see how awesome you are.” You shyly stopped talking, realizing what you had just said.

“You really think that about me?” He said it so quietly, you almost missed it.

“Yeah of course. I should, um, go check on the cakes.” You stood up and briskly walked to the kitchen.

You slid on an oven mitt and pulled out one of the cakes, poking it with a toothpick to test it. When it came out clean you pulled them all out and turned to yell for Phillip.

To your surprise, you found him already standing just inches away from you. Before you could say a word, he took your face in his hands and pulled you even closer to him, locking your lips with his. Lost in hundreds of different thoughts, Phillip pulled away before you could respond.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed any-” you cut him off by doing the same thing he had done only seconds ago.

He responded next to immediately, melting into the kiss. After a while, you started to feel self conscious and broke away.

“Sorry.” You breathed.

He laughed loudly, “I thought I made it clear that I don’t really mind.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess you did.” You laughed lightly.

“It’s getting kind of late, and we have a lot of cake batter left. Do you want to stay the night?” He asked nervously.

“I’d love to.”

Hamilton Taglist

@kirstentheineffectiveemo @snowbubby1 @mistypancake10666 @fulmoonwulf @spaceoutloud

Let me know if you want to be tagged!


again taking credit from @wanderingthroughwickford for the original scary ND moments post, I have more to add from my original list!

In no particular order:

SAW - The Glowing Writing on Yumi’s Apartment Window

Not only is it reminiscent of early 2000s J-Horror at its finest, it’s also never explained in game. It must be Rentaro’s work, and based on the events leading up to that point it is indeed aimed at Yumi and not Nancy, but…why? Yumi’s already left the ryokan, why scare her more? Also, how was it done? Practical effects just like the hauntings in the ryokan I’m sure, but you do wonder anyway.

SAW - The sheer fucking emptiness of Kyoto

This is obviously a game production thing rather than a deliberate attempt at creepiness, but the sheer lack of people in the streets of Kyoto and the subway is kind of eerie. In a lot of Nancy Drew games, Nancy is in a remote location and therefore it makes sense for it to be pretty empty. In SAW we have the almost-deserted convention centre and the totally empty pachinko parlour. Sorry, but I’m getting a horrible Silent Hill vibe. DAN and VEN and also SPY have shades of this, but for some reason it’s especially uncanny in SAW.

SAW - The second bathroom

Yeahhhh. I mean of course this is the place where Nancy is attacked by the goddamn Sadako-bot, but even before that it’s a deeply unsettling place. I think it’s a combination of the extra-dark graphics., the exceptionally sinister music and the strange mist hovering over the old bath. Plus the eventual knowledge that Kasumi actually died there.This is a dark, loaded location.

SAW - The music

I did an appreciation post for the music of this game, and what it excels at is being scary. It’s threatening, creepy, sad, and at times takes direct inspiration from J-Horror cinema (I’m thinking in particular of the metal-grinding-on-metal track - don’t remember its name). One of the best ND soundtracks.

CUR - The Hooded Figure

There are many moments in CUR to discuss, and hopefully I will in future posts. But the thing that would have scared child!me the most, without a shadow of a doubt, is the black-hooded figure that appears as Nancy leaves her room in the night. Ten-year-old me was very. very scared of Dementors and would have pissed herself at that point in the game. The black-hooded figure is just such a great universal represntation of fear and of the unknown. The fact that it is walking away from Nancy rather than advancing on her is intriguing and horrifying; we cannot see its face, it is not trying to threaten Nancy outright, and yet it is still so very, very wrong. There’s also the fact that this mystery is somewhat unsolved: who was the figure? Was it Ethel playing along with Jane? It was too tall to be Jane herself

GTH - Savannah’s Story

You know the one I mean. Again, I read a lot of ghost stories (real and fictional) and this one is genuinely one of the most blood-chilling I’ve come across. It’s so short, so simple, so subtle and yet so dark. I love it.

CAP - The monster is in the castle

I enjoyed this game but didn’t find it too scary overall. What got me a little was when the game told you that the monster was loose somewhere. This is a personal horror preference of course, but one of the scariest tropes to me is “monster is somewhere, we don’t know where, but it’s near you” - a very primal fear. I think it was discussed quite well in the commentary for Coraline  - you know the monster is nearby, possibly watching you, but you can’t know where and therefore you must exist in fear. It’s a relief knowing it’s not a real monster after all. Yikes.

DAN - that mouth sculpture thing

i fucking hate this fucking thing. i hate it

ICE - The Sauna Endgame

Y’know, the creepiness of this scene didn’t really dawn on me until I actually used a sauna for the first time quite recently. This is literally the worst way to die. It’s so goddamn hot in those things, you can almost feel your lungs constricting.The dry-heat is almost unbearable, the only thing getting you through the knowledge that you will leave soon and shower off. The idea of being trapped in this human-oven-brazen-bull-hell-box, unable to leave and begging for help, is too horrible to bear.

SEA - The Ice Caves

Now I’m partial to a good horror story set in a cave, so I’m willing to accept my attitude towards caves has been somewhat coloured by fear. Even so, the caves in SEA have an eerie, lonely quality that is rather unsettling. The constant night-time setting of the game adds an extra layer of unease to me - you know that even when you get out, there will be total darkness. I haven’t played this game recently so I don’t remember the music for this part very exactly, but if I recall correctly it is quite unsettling.

MHM - The servants’ staircase from the first floor to the ground floor

(I’m assuming these are servants’ stairs, based on my somewhat patchy knowledge of American Victorian houses)

I remember seeing a post about these stairs (don’t remember who by, sorry :() and I was relieved to see other people agreeing with how strange this staircase is. It’s not altogether uncommon for servants’ passages to be bare and plain compared to the rest of the house, but this is really the only area in the game that looks like this and as such it feels kinda off. Added to the constant high tension of the game, walking through this area is far more nerve-shredding than it has any right to be.

MHM - Charlie’s Bedroom

look we can all agree that MHM is a deeply creepy game and almost every part of it is nightmare-fuel inducing. Charlie’s room is pretty cool though - until you realise the double mirror trick, and therefore that he was probably watching you as you explored the basement after hours???? yikes

DOG - Night time, particularly the goddamn forest

building off the last one, and also on the CAP scary moment, it’s fairly reasonable to assume that Emily was observing Nancy at least once as she stumbled through the forest and explored the cabin’s grounds. even at night, in the dark. she must have been sitting around without a flashlight just… waiting? like a wild animal?  can i get a “brrrrr”

You Need a Maid? Chapter 8

Fandom: Avengers / Marvel
Rating: G / PG13 / R
Warnings: Swearing
Disclaimer: I don’t own Marvel, blah legal stuff. Don’t sue me, I’m poor.

Chapter Menu

Your name: submit What is this?

You woke up the next day feeling light on your feet. The sun shone brightly through your windows, and although it was chilly, it was a beautiful day. You got yourself ready and did as you did every morning, made your way to the kitchen for breakfast. You liked your little ritual. Start the coffee, scramble some eggs, occasionally make pancakes if you were feeling up to it. You weren’t sure how you would start your day otherwise at this point. Nothing else felt right. Natasha would complain you were making her fat. You always laughed it off, unable see the difference. She didn’t have to have extra bacon, after all.

You were considering the possibility of pancakes when you rounded the corner, and almost tripped on the oven. Or more so, the man in the oven. “Clint? What the hell are you doing?” You crossed your arms over your chest, not pleased. This would delay the makings of breakfast, and Iron Man got kind whiny without his coffee.

Keep reading

Saving Mr. J (part 2)

You guys asked for it so here it is!! Sorry it’s a bit short but it’s just a filler chapter and I have an idea for part 3 but combining the two would’ve been too long. Have any suggestions for my future imagines? Message me anything including if you would like a part 3 to this series.

Summary: reader stays locked up in Mr. J’s house. During her imprisonment, she got closer to Mr. J and his mind. To his dismay, she was interested in his past unlike others who frankly made up crazy ass stories about how he became who he is today.

Word Count: 1364 words

Warning: language and bit of violence

Groaning, you groggily flutter your eyes open and inspect the walls around you. A sharp pain struck the back of your head which caused another moan of agony to leave your lips and you to instinctively grab the spot in pain. A wet substance hit your fingers. Drawing back your hand, you noticed the sticky liquid to be blood. Your blood.

Panic flood your body as you sharply stood up from the cold, hard ground where you were lying down in the unfamiliar room. Where am I? Breathing in deep, you shut your eyes and rested your ear against the icy cold metal door. All your ears picked up was silence. Abruptly, the door swung open causing your body to fall forward onto an object softer than the floor which you desperately clung onto.

“Well, well, well, you trying to feel me up, Doc?” An all familiar deep voice teased. Quick as a fly, you detached your hands from his well-formed body and increased the distance between the two of you while apologizing profusely- not wanting to get on his bad side.

“J-just out of curiosity, Mr. Joker, where am I and why am I here?” You asked timidly staring at the newly interesting ground.

“First of all, call me Mr. J. Second of all, I need a new doctor. Just recently I had to kill my current doctor ‘cause he was pissing me off and it just so happens that you are a quite skilled surgeon and my men have a habit of injuring themselves so you, doll, work for me now. As for where you are, currently, you are in my house.” His words shocked you to the core. How does he know I’m a surgeon? Probably looked through my purse and found my hospital ID. And I can’t disappear from my job just out of the blue. People will, hopefully, wonder where I’ve been. He could have any amazing doctor in all of Gotham, but he chose me. Probably just to contain me here so I don’t go blabbing to anyone and get the word out about the Joker getting “help” from a stranger or some other crazy reason that’s going through his psychotic mind.

Millions of thoughts were rushing through your brain you started to develop a headache. Suddenly you were erased from your thoughts and gripped forcefully on the upper arm, being dragged out of the dungeon-like room. Everything out of the room was so bright and luxurious. You couldn’t comprehend the number of hallways you turned until you stopped in front of a door and Mr. J released his death grip off your freshly bruised arm.

“This will be your office and workspace.”

The room was cool and seemed similar to the walk-in clinics patient rooms except with multiple exam beds, curtains for privacy, and loads of shelves and drawers containing medical equipment. Another three doors were in that room; a room leading into the ‘OR’, a bathroom, and your personal office. It was no hospital but it came pretty damn close to one.

“Alright now that you’ve gotten acquainted with the ‘medical wing’, time to go back into your room.”

Confusion struck you, “My room? You mean that cell?”

“I’m not letting you into one of the damn guest rooms since you could easily fucking escape.”

“Escape?! You have guards in every entrance and hallway. There is no way I can escape. Plus, how can I practice medicine between living in that contaminated room and entering a clean environment?” You pressed back, hoping to win this small argument.

“Enough. You’re heading back to your fucking room and that’s final. You don’t wanna make me angry, doll.”

“Ugh, can I at least have something to eat?” At this point, you were pissed, tired, and hungry- three horrible emotions combined.

“Fine.” He simply stated while gritting his teeth and led you into the kitchen after what felt like a 3 minute walk. You had to give him some credit though, his kitchen was stocked to the brim. Craving some pasta, you took out all the ingredients and equipment needed.

“Would you like some pasta, Mr. J?” You asked while boiling the water over the stove. He simply shook his head and told you that he had work to attend to while his henchmen watched over you. Since pasta wasn’t the only thing you were in the mood for you whipped up a quick batch of sugar cookies and popped them into the oven.

Once everything was cooked to perfection, you scooped yourself a plate of pasta with a soft drink on the side along with a pre-made salad. Because you made extra Italian food, you popped the leftovers in a plastic tupperware for Mr. J in case he wanted some later.

“What’s that smell?” Mr. J announced when strolling into the kitchen. You answered with a simple, “pasta.”

“No, that’s not it. It’s something sweet.” He sniffed the air like a dog causing a giggle to erupt from your throat.

“Sugar cookies, you want some?” You walked up to him and lifted up a plate with the delicious dessert still steaming from coming fresh out the oven.

“Hell yes.” He snatched up a cookie and munched on it, emitting a moan of delight.

“You have a sweet tooth?” You murmured under your breath, staring in awe as he took another bite. Who knew the Joker had an eye for sweets? Turns out that he heard you and nodded his head to your question.

“Do either one of your parents have one as well?” The moment those words left your mouth you knew it was a personal question. The silence filled the room and you secretly wished you never asked.

“Um… my mom.” He whispered in a hushed tone. You were surprised that he even answered. It was obviously a personal question as you’ve never heard anything about the Joker’s parents. But for some reason, you were curious about him and wanted to know more.

“Are you close with her?” Trying to carefully ask questions without causing a big scene.

“I was.”

“Was? D-did she pass away?” His eyes went from distant to anger in a split second.

“Why the fuck do you care so much?! Are you my fucking psychiatrist?!” He seethed with fury and balled his hands into fists.

“I’m curious. I just want to know more about the man who kidnapped me!” You snapped back, sick of cowering away from Mr. Primadonna. A loud smack echoed the room as you fell onto the floor on impact.

“You don’t get to fucking question me you bitch, I own your ass! Frost get this shit out of my kitchen and put her back into her cell.” A hand harshly gripped your upper arm and lifted you off the ground, leading you back into the grimy space called your room.

Once the man named Frost and you reached your room he warned you not to anger Mr. J or it might just be the last thing you do. You simply rolled your eyes and slammed shut the metal door, locking yourself in said room. Softly, you rested the palm of your hand against the forming bruise on your cheek. As soon as the stinging sensation flood your face, you retracted your hand and fell onto the dirty ground with tearing welling up into your eyes. This is what it’s going to be like living with The Clown Prince of Crime. What did I get myself into?


Imagine trying to bake a cake or cupcakes for Steves birthday together with Sam and Bucky ~ -Requested by anon
This ended up super long- sorry! But I think you’ll like how it turns out :D ✯

The original plan was simple: Bake a cake for Steve’s birthday. But of course, nothing ever went smoothly when Sam and Bucky were involved. Once you plopped the cake in the oven, all hell broke loose.

Bucky’s arm must’ve twitched, because he accidentally knocked the carton of milk over, spilling it all over Sam.

“Hey!” He yelled, glancing down at his ruined shirt. “Not cool!”

Bucky paled. “I’m sorry. It was an accident, I swear! I didn’t meant to-”

But Sam wasn’t paying attention. He threw two fistfuls of flour at him, but it ended up getting all over you, too.


Bucky sputtered, spitting out a cloud of flour. “That’s how it is? Then it’s on!” He picked up a stick of butter. “Everybody for themselves!”

Pretty soon an all-out food fight took place, turning the kitchen into a disaster. You lost track of time. Everyone was covered with sugar, broken eggs, and various other cooking ingredients. It was a mess, but it was the most fun baking experience you ever had.

Speaking of baking… “Guys!” You interrupted, setting your next projectile (a whisk) down slowly. “Time-out! Did anyone check on the cake?”

The two of them paused, mid-aim, and blinked. “No,” they said in unison.

Forgetting the food fight, you all rushed towards the oven. The timer must’ve gone off, but was drowned out by the chaos of flying food. When you opened the door, your heart sank.

The ugliest looking cake stared back at you on the rack. One side of it was burned, and the other side looked like it collapsed on itself.

“… Oh,” Sam’s face went blank. “Well, now what do we do?”

You bit your lip. “We don’t have enough time to make another one. Plus, we kind of destroyed most of the ingredients.”

Bucky pulled out the pan with his metal arm. “Okay guys, here’s the plan: We cover this thing in frosting and hope he doesn’t notice.”

You and Sam nodded. “Okay.”

30 minutes later, Steve came back to the tower to see you, Sam, and Bucky- all cleaned up now- waiting for him under a bright red “Happy Birthday Cap!” banner. Sam was holding what looked like a lump of frosting on a plate.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY STEVE!” You three said at the same time.

Steve’s face lit up. “What is this? A cake, for me?” He looked at the plate in Sam’s hand.

“It’s supposed to be, but we may or may not have spent more time goofing off than baking,” Bucky said sheepishly. “Which is why it looks so…”

He didn’t have to finish. Steve grinned widely and threw his arms around you and Bucky, giving you both a squeeze. “I love it already!”

Steve’s happiness was infectious. “Happy birthday, Steve. Make a wish!” Sam beamed. He held out the cake and Steve blew out the candles.

He beckoned Sam closer, and gave you all a massive group hug. “(Y/n), Bucky, Sam- thanks so much. I love you guys!”

the shock of what happened or the ache for what never will IV

part 1

part 2

part 3

The day of your return, the city of Atlantica threw a celebration that lasted a week long. Everyone was ecstatic that their princess was home safe and you were happy that you finally were off Neverland.

In the nights, you dreamed of Peter Pan. Dream might be the wrong word though, for they were not pleasant. His stoic eyes disturbed you, jolting you awake just in time for his hand to thrust its way into your chest and take a hold of your heart.

Tonight was one of those nights, and with a gasp you awake to the cold empty room. You shuffle around nervously, feeling ashamed that this boy had so much power over you even in your own kingdom. You struggle to fall back asleep, curling your arms around your tail and squeezing your eyes shut.

At breakfast in the grand dining room that morning, a guard hands you a glass bottle. Inside is a folded note, tied closed with string.

“This was addressed to you, your highness.” He said with a flick of his bronze tail.

You nod and thank him, continuing breakfast on with your mother, Queen Ariel. Fish of all kind float around you, lazily lounging just as you wish you were. Your hands shook as you fumble with the bottle, setting it beside you as your mother happily chats to you about today’s royal duties.

Pulling yourself out of the water and onto the rock, you lay across it on your belly flicking your tail around in order to lay comfortably. Your wet hands struggled to pull the cork from the top and soon enough with a pop the cork flies off. You shook the bottle upside down and the wrinkled paper falls out. In messy, barely legible handwriting, the note looks like it was written in urgency.

Princess Melody,
I hope you remember me. I’m writing to you in need of help. After you left Neverland, something happened to Pan. He took a boy away from his family and his family came to rescue him but they took Pan too. He’s been gone for so long. Neverland is dying. Please help us find Pan.

You blinked in realization. Gale. His mousy face comes to mind. He was the boy you tried to help leave Neverland, why was he asking you to help the island he so badly wanted off of? The thought of helping Peter was bittersweet, plus you don’t know how well your mother would take to you leaving again after you just got back. She knew nothing of Peter or his island, surely she would get suspicious of you sneaking off again.

The bottom line was the Lost Boys seemed to be reaching out for your help. During the long time you spent on the island, those boys were good to you even it Peter wasn’t. You tuck hair behind your ear and sighed. It was decided; you would leave for Storybrooke tomorrow.

Emma’s bleached blonde hair wasn’t hard to find as you walked into the sheriff’s office in the small town of Storybrooke. You had introduced yourself as Princess Melody, in which Emma told you about how she use to read about Ariel and her daughter Melody in children’s books. You cut to the chase, asking her if she was one of the people on Peter’s island.

“I was trying to save my son.” She accused, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms. You assured her that of course she was, but you needed to know where Peter Pan was.

“Do you have some unfinished business with him or something? There can’t be a lot of reasons you want to visit the Underworld,” she muttered, clear distaste in her voice.

“It’s something like that.” You nodded, now knowing where you could start your quest for him. The Underworld. You’ve heard your mother speak of it, telling you that was where Ursula ended up after she and Eric defeated her.

You thank Emma and she gives you a confused look before telling you to be careful. You walked out of the building, knowing exactly where you had to go.

Despite the boiling temperature, hell made you shiver. You were alive of course, but felt like a fish stuck inside an oven.

Hell looked exactly like… Storybrooke. Except the town looked like a riot had destroyed it. The bell tower lay in ruins on the ground, and the red tinted fog was so thick that the street disappeared in a gradient if you looked too far off.

You started walking, hugging your arms to yourself. People walked beside you on the sidewalk, most of them looking you over in haughtiness since you were a mermaid. Mermaids weren’t generally liked by strangers since everyone associated them with sirens and death, so you kept your head down with your sea dried curls curtaining your face. You peaked in through the windows of the library only seeing piles upon piles of destroyed books. People grunted as they pushed past you, annoyed that you would stop in the middle of the sidewalk.

Granny’s Diner stood across the street, and you hastily decided to make your way in. The door opened with a jingle of the bell. You moved slowly up to the counter where a blonde woman stood drying a glass cup. She turned around at your presence, her milky eyes startling you.

She grinned eerily, lifting her nose up in the air and smelling around as a dog would. Leaning over the counter, she whispered, “Princess Melody of Atlantica. I knew I smelled the sea right as you walked in.”

You stand straight  and hold your head as a royal would, trying to mask your nerves.

“Hello Witch.” You muttered. Her grin stretches. The Blind Witch holds her hand out, teasingly twirling a piece of your hair around her finger. You jolted back, startling yourself and the people who sat at the table behind you.

“I’m looking for someone,” you continued unevenly. “I know you know everyone who resides here, and I’m willing to make you a deal if you tell me where this person is.”

She stands, idling for a few moments before she picks up her class again and continues drying it.

“I don’t usually make deals with mermaids, but I guess I could allow one with the Princess.”

“Name your price.” You wanted this over fast, aiming to find Peter and to get the hell out of hell.

“You’ve got a beautiful necklace you’re wearing,” The Witch answered. “Royal pearls are very precious. Such a necklace could be traded for some information.” She taunted. Her eyes rolls around, making your face scrunch up in displeasure. You reached around for the clasp, yanking it off and tossing it swiftly in the cup she held with a clank.

She smirked and set the glass down, whispering in a soft voice. “The boy you seek dwells in an old pawn shop, locked up and letting none in. Though he might open for a beauty like you.” She cackled, and you turn around to head for the exit.

Rumpelstiltskin’s Pawn Shop sits deserted and as the Witch said, locked up. The closed sign hangs from the window and the blinds hold back anyone from peaking in.

You try the locked doorknob, and shake it in frustration. You’ve traveled all the way to the Underworld just for a locked door stand in front of your way from Peter? You knock on the windows, cursing loudly at the silence that followed. You sit on the stone steps, your jean clad legs aching from being in human form so long. If Peter wasn’t going to open up, you’d stubbornly sit in front of the shop until he did.

The door clicks open though, and you scrambled up to step inside before it closed again. The air inside the shop was musky, heavy in heat and dust. You glance around the room before a call of your name makes you look up.

Peter Pan stood in a doorway, glancing at you with disbelief. He was almost unrecognizable, the time he’s spent out of Neverland making him age and appear older. His usual feathery hair was styled back, and his suit made it hard to tell he ever was the King of Neverland.

You nod once. “Peter.”

He walks closer to you, raising an eyebrow. “Are you…?”

“I’m not dead. I’m very much alive and I’m actually here to get you out of here.”

He chuckled. “In case you haven’t noticed love, I’m dead. It is cute though how you’ve come back for me. Almost seems like an act of true love…”

“This is not true love,” You said with an eye roll. “I’m here because the Lost Boys need you back. Neverland is dying without you.”

“As much as I would love to leave this wasteland, without a heart, I’m damned here for eternity.” He muttered. You turn back around to the displays, obviously caught in a web. The thought of how you were going to get Peter back home never occurred to you. Taking hearts was how he ended up in this situation and ironically enough, now he had none. Not even his own.

His hand on your waist startles you. His chest pressed against your back, and he kissed the back of your head.

“There is one way we could leave together. One way that would prove you do love me.” His hand circles around and rests just under your collarbone, over your strong beating heart. Your cheeks flush madly at what you think he’s thinking, and suddenly your vivid dreams hit you with déjà vu.

“Share your heart with me.” He whispered.

Did he really deserve half your heart? No. Did he deserve a chance to leave the Underworld after all he’s done? No. But the only way to get you both out was indeed to split your heart in half and hope it was enough.

You give in with a nod, finding no other option at this point. He turns you around and leans you against the counter, muttering an apology and pushing his hand past through ribs and to your heart. You gasped, the feeling of one hundred tons sitting on your chest. He yanked it out, holding the beating organ in his palm. You stare at it in awe.

Peter tears the soft heart down the middle, plunging back half in your chest and the other in his own. You clench your jaw at the sensation, blinking a few times to rid the tears that formed in your eyes.

“Did it work?” You whispeedr in the quiet. If it didn’t, Peter now permanently had half of your heart and you both would essentially be stuck here.

Peter smiled, intense feelings overtaking his body. It worked! Peter could feel the heart pumping strongly in his chest, and all of Neverland’s magic buzzed through his fingertips again. He hugged you tightly, pecking your temple over and over before whispering in your ear, “Let’s get out of here.”

Getting out of Hell had not been easy. You had to escape the shouts and glares you got from others as they recognized you and Peter Pan. The portal was hidden deep in the woods and Peter’s suit stained with mud as you two ran through the trees. You grabbed a hold of Peter’s hand and waste no time pulling him into the portal behind you. It swallowed you up in a fury of colors, sparks trailing around it as it closed back up.

The portal landed you in the outskirts of Storybrooke. Under your order, Peter transported you to the docks where you had left your ship pointed in the direction of Neverland. It happened all so fast, and in a rush you were able to take off and start the final part of your journey home.

Peter watches you from the deck, admiration in his eyes. The gel in his hair had fallen out, giving him his younger look back; the look of a Lost Boy. The princess he had selfishly taken from her kingdom had risked her life in order to get him back to his own. He loved you, he had knew it the second he caught you trespassing on his island all that time ago.

You set the ship on automatic and make your way down the wooden steps and overlooking the magnificent ocean. You would always belong to the sea but lately, you couldn’t help but feel incomplete. Setting out to find Peter had made you realize, that maybe the reason you agreed to do this in the first place was because you did love him. A deep part of you finally had cracked, splitting open and reaching out towards him like a sunflower would to the sun. You smiled at the thought and turned around, already finding Peter’s eyes on you.

You had arrived in Neverland a little after sunset. You tie your ship up and walk down onto the sand, reveling the sight of lush Neverland. Peter stood in front of you, taking in the feeling of being home again. Ironically though, this was goodbye. You would return under the sea and he would stay here. Before he could speak though, you hastily grabbed him by his collar and pulled him into a kiss. It lasted only a few seconds long, but both your and his cheeks tinge a peachy color.

“I guess this is where we part.” You sighed. Peter shrugs, looking down. The tables turn as you lifted his chin up with your index finger, all traces of the big bad demon boy diminishing whenever he looks at you.

“Please stay,” he whispered, taking a hold of your hands. “You can be Queen of Neverland. I’ll let you come and leave whenever you want, I’ll let your family — .”

You’re nodding before he could say anymore. “I’ll stay, I’ll stay.” You promised.

Peter tugged you in an embrace. You will stay, this time you will.

anonymous asked:

Hi! Can you please make one where y/n and Calvin make food together and cuddle for hours and he sings you to sleep for your 6 month anniversary

Thanks for the request!! 💗

You woke to the smell of burning and groaned, rolled out of bed and rushed to the kitchen.
‘Oh hey babe. Uh, I kinda-’
You weren’t even listening anymore as you realised the mess of the kitchen.
Your eyes took in the absolute carnage before you and despite the plethora of emotions that were running through you, you couldn’t help but laugh.

It started as a giggle and developed into a full-blown laughing fit that was relatively short lived due to the black smoke that had started to leak from the oven.
‘What the hell were you trying to-?’ You coughed and spluttered as you retrieved the burning thing from the oven, the smoke stinging your eyes.
The question you were trying to ask was answered when you put the cake tin on the worktop and looked at the charred mess inside, which was presumably meant to be a sponge cake.
Calvin was running around opening windows until the fire alarm started shrieking and he swore as he frantically flapped a dishtowel in the air, trying to disperse the smoke and stop the ear-piercing screech.

After ten minutes of scraping the cremated cake into the bin, you asked Calvin what he was trying to do.
‘Well - I was TRYING to make a cake to surprise you because it’s our anniversary today, but…’ He rubbed the back of his neck the way he always did and you walked over and wrapped your arms around him, placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.
'That’s so sweet,’ you said, genuinely touched that he’d even make the effort to try something he hadn’t done before to surprise you.
'It’s a shame that you can’t bake for shit, though,’ you said and he feigned being offended to make you laugh.

'Lets try again, yeah? I’m in the mood for some cake now,’ you said, and he agreed.
He put on some music while you readied all the ingredients and looked up a recipe online.
'Who even uses recipes anymore?’ He scoffed and you turned to him in disbelief.
'Everyone else who’s ever cooked or baked anything, you tool,’ you laughed and he muttered that he managed just fine without one, even though his cake was currently residing at the bottom of the bin.

'Ew,’ he whined and shuddered as he buttered the cake tins.
He came up behind you as you tried to mix the ingredients and shoved his sticky fingers in your face.
You shrieked in surprise and licked his finger, making him squeal like a little girl. You both paused as the sound escaped his mouth and then began to howl with laughter.
'It… tickled!’ He gasped as he laughed, trying to justify the noise he made.
You eventually regained your composure and insisted he wash his hands before he contaminated the food.

You felt his arms wrap around your waist as you continued mixing the ingredients together and he pressed his body to yours from behind.
You smiled slightly and you felt his chin rest on your shoulder, his breath tickling you.
'Mhm?’ You hummed as his fingers slowly pulled your shirt up and traced the skin underneath.
He kissed your neck gently and you chuckled, knowing his game.
'You can’t get outta this that easily. Your turn to mix,’ you said, turning around in his embrace to kiss his nose affectionately.
'Uuuuuuuugh,’ he groaned and leaned his head on your shoulder.
'It was your idea to make a cake!’ You laughed, leaving him to mixing while you preheated the oven and made sure the tin was thoroughly buttered.

After everything was mixed to your satisfaction, you filled the cake tin with the mixture and let Calvin lick the bowl, much to his excitement.
'That has raw eggs in it, you know,’ you said as you put the tin in the oven.
'Protein,’ he shrugged, smirking, 'bodybuilders and shit drink raw eggs, don’t they?’ His voice was muffled because half of his head was in the bowl. 'I'ma get fuckin’ ripped.’ He muttered, and then laughed at his own joke like a maniac.
You smiled and shook your head at your twat of a boyfriend and then had to wrestle the bowl off of him before he made himself sick.

He came up behind you while you were drying the last dish and picked you up and carried you through to the lounge.
You wrapped your legs around his waist and he lay down on the sofa with you on top of him. You slid to one side of his body and fell asleep as he set an alarm for when the cake was due out of the oven.

You awake to a clutter and a crash coming from the kitchen which worried you, but you were admittedly distracted by the heavenly smell that made your mouth water. For the second time in one day, you rushed to the kitchen.
Calvin stood with the cake tin in one hand, swearing as he tried to close the oven door with his foot.
You quickly closed the oven door and helped him gently put the cake on the counter before he dropped it.
'No, we need to take it out of the tin and decorate it!’ He said, excitement lighting up his eyes.
'We need to let it cool first,’ you smiled at how giddy he was over decorating a cake.
'Fine,’ he sulked, and you danced in the kitchen to the radio until the cake was cool enough to decorate.
'Can I do it?’ He asked, and you faked a shocked expression.
'What?! You got to lick the bowl!’
'Come on, babe. Please?’ He knew you loved it when he called you that and you rolled your eyes, giving in.
'Okay, you do it then,’ you said, standing back and watching him. His tongue was poking slightly out between his lips as he grasped the icing tube determinedly, a concentrated frown on his face.
Your eyes followed the tip of the tube as it iced wobbly letters onto the cake.

'Happy Anniversary Y/n!’

He decorated it with every type of cake decoration you owned and turned to face you when he was finished, with a 'ta-da!’ And a flourish.

You couldn’t help the smile that broke out on your face and you hugged him tightly, feeling his arms wrap around you.
'Thanks, Cal,’ you said happily.

Half an hour later you had both eaten your fill of cake and were completely full.
'That cake was fuckin’ great, dude,’ Calvin said as your eyes slowly closed, your head on his chest.
'Even if I do say so myself,’ he muttered.
'I think you’ll find I did most of it,’ you teased, every word an effort.
'Tired now, babe?’ He asked as he began to run a hand through your hair.
'Mhm,’ you hummed in response, sighing contentedly.
'Sing,’ you whispered.
'Sing something,’ you repeated, feeling his other arm wrap tighter around you.
He sighed ever so slightly but began nonetheless.
His voice was far from perfect but you smiled as he hit the notes, tried to suppress a giggle when his voice broke slightly. He was so endearing and he would do anything to make you smile. You felt his voice vibrate his chest and his hand didn’t stop running through your hair.
His quiet singing was the only noise in the room and you fell asleep to the sound of his voice and his heartbeat that thumped steadily in your ear, reminding you that he was always there, beside you.

Lmao I never know how to end these
I’m so sorry if this is awful lol 💗

Sidenote: I’ve looked into it and there’s literally nothing I can do about not getting asks, and I’m so sorry for that but I can’t help it!! And I have no idea how to deal with the problem so any suggestions would be great X
Luv you guys X