#almond cookie being a single father is EVERYTHING

[den-ai-d]

"…dear…😟" "I know what you're thinking—it wasn't my fault!😤"

The life and times of a single parent, Almond cookie edition.

#art #fan art #cookie run #almond cookie #walnut cookie #cookie run kingdom #cookie run ovenbreak #almond cookie being a single father is EVERYTHING #Him be dilfing alone amirite #I normally wouldn't draw him this buff #but I saw that one edit! #I was inspired

[momiji-bookhouse]

Hii! Can i have Sweet flower with kazuha for the event please ^v^

[Sweet Flower]: "You've got some flour on your cheek there, darling."

Event Masterlist

pairing: Kaedehara Kazuha x gn!reader

genre: fluff

cw: mention of parent's death

The kitchen is where you feel at home.

It is the place where your first memories were made, where your father would hold you while your mother worked her magic in the kitchen to whip up the sweetest concoctions. You would poke everything curiously, laughing in delight as you swipe a small line of batter onto your mom's cheeks — no doubt at the nudging of your dad.

When you're a little older, you and him would bet on who could steal the most desserts before she notices, resulting in her having to slap your hands several times as you try to swipe an egg tart or cookie, ignoring her scolding while running away with your prize inside your mouth.

When you're not stealing, your mom would let you stay by her side while she bakes, your eyes following her every movement as she moves around gracefully, not a single action wasted.

You watch her make crystalline tanghulu from strawberries and sunsettias, cut squares of perfectly silken almond tofu and pouring osmanthus syrup over them, and press intricate designs onto mooncakes.

At one point, she notices that you begin to spend more time around the kitchen, less to pilfer and more because you're genuinely curious in what she's making and how she's making it. She started you with simple tasks such as pouring ingredients into the mixing bowl and cutting fruits with a child-proof knife, gradually teaching you how to wrap black sesame paste into glutinous tangyuan balls and make the creamiest puddings.

Many of your early attempts would come out misshapen and not quite right, but your dad would always eat them with gusto, no matter if you accidentally burnt it too much or put the wrong amount of ingredients in. Something kindled inside of you as you watch your parents eat the desserts you made, motivating you to work even harder next time to get it right.

You keep these memories of a narrow kitchen with walls seeped with the smell of sugar and spice and the echoes of laughter close to your chest. Especially when your mother was taken away by a swift and incurable disease.

You didn't think it would be possible for a kitchen to become more cramped, but everywhere you turn, a phantom of what was once was would haunt your vision. You alternate wildly between spending all your time in that tiny space and avoiding it all together, unable to bear to look at it. Your dad did most of the cooking when you both got tired of takeouts, no sugary scent wafted through the house.

It took a long time of crying, partial healing, and reflecting before you could step into the place without breaking down. Longer still for you to touch the well-worn baking equipments. Once you returned, you couldn't stop.

Like many, your mom didn't write down any of her recipes, instead relying on instinct and knowledge passed down from parent to child from each generation. Even if she did write them down, you had no doubt that she would be using words like "a pinch of this" or "a dash of that". She never taught you in precise measurements and instructions, but instead in how to feel.

This leads you to go down an obsessive rabbit hole, trying desperately to capture the taste you once knew, no matter how many batches it takes or how many sleepless nights. Your dad eats them all as he always does, even when he holds you close while you break down in tears, his own trailing down his cheeks.

It's a cathartic way of healing, but you heal nonetheless, no matter how slowly it takes. It culminated until one day you sink your teeth into a bouncy piece of almond tofu, and everything falls away until you're a child again, being lifted by your dad as both of you take a sneaky sip of the syrup, the sound of your mom's scolds faded in the background. You embrace your dad, and for the first time in a while, the tears in both of your eyes were joyful.

You realize that as much as baking heals you, watching other people eat your creations and see the memories washing over them heals you, too. You began to work multiple jobs here and there, and with help from your dad, managed to open up a bakery of your own. You make sweets that are familiar to the people of Liyue, but what sets you apart is that you're willing to make anything your customers ask of you. You've even had some customers from Mondstadt and Sumeru who came looking for a taste of home. You accepted all of their requests, as long as they're able to teach you or bring you a recipe. Atsuko in particular has become a regular, coming to pick up a mochi or two before going off to job hunt again.

It warms you to see your customers so happy, and that makes up for all of the hard work and endless nights poring over your failed experimentations.

One day, you open up as usual, putting all the freshly-made goods into the glass display case and placing the containers of fragrant tea leaves onto the counters. You just got word that the Crux have returned to harbor and was preparing for the sailors that would no doubt walk through your doors.

You're in the middle of putting another batch of egg tarts into the oven when you hear the door opens. You turn around, armed with your best smile to greet the customer. What you didn't expect to see is a young man in Inazuman clothing, the maple motif on his kimono matches the red streak in his pale white hair. He looks around your bakery curiously, and any interest you have about what an Inazuman is doing in Liyue in the middle of a highly publicized Sakoku Decree is squashed down by your customer service instincts.

"Hello, can I help you with anything?" You ask politely.

His eyes rest on you, the color reminding you of glazed sunsettias. He smiles, and your heart can't help but give a thump at how it lights up his youthful and attractive face.

"Good morning, this place was recommended to me, but I'm not too familiar with the sweets of Liyue. Could you recommend me something?"

"Of course. What is your preference when it comes to sweets? Do you like it to have more of a balanced, bitter aftertaste? Or something tart and citrusy?"

He thinks for a moment. "I have never really thought about it. Perhaps something light and airy to wash away today's humid weather?"

"I've got just the thing. For here or to go?"

"For here, please."

You nod and direct him to a table while you go to the back to retrieve the chilled almond milk. You cut them and scoop the delicate squares onto the plate, pouring just the right amount of golden syrup onto them, garnishing with a sprinkling of crushed almonds.

You place the dish down in front of him. "This is almond tofu with osmanthus syrup. Let me know if you need anything else."

You go to serve the next customer, wrapping up their order and receiving Mora from them. As you busy yourself, you can't help but glance over to him, eager to see his first reaction.

He spoons a piece of the glistening, white-jade jelly and slowly puts it into his mouth. Your mouth curves upwards when you see his eyes widening, a look of surprise crossing over his face. He takes a second bite, this time closing his eyes to slowly savor it. The romantics would say that in that moment, you can see an aura of flowers and sparkles radiating from him, and you like to think you're one of them. This is why you do what you do, after all.

After that, he stops by whenever he can, always taking the time to talk to you or even help out in the bakery when you needed. That's how you came to know him better, learning his name and bits of his past, the ones that he was willing to share with you.

(You're not so clueless as to not notice the faraway look in his eyes.)

As a sailor, Kazuha never remains on land for long, quickly whisked away by the calling of the sea as he sets out with the Crux to new adventures. But whenever he returns to Liyue Harbor, not only would he visit you, he would bring you ingredients from horizons far away. Valberries from windy Mondstadt, crunchy Lavender Melons the color of lightning, fragrant Padisarahs that shines purple when grounded. He gives them all to you without asking for anything in return, even when you insisted and managed to shove a dozen egg tarts into his hands.

However, you're determined to do something for him. So you went to Atsuko to ask her about Inazuman sweets and whether she can teach some to you. It took a few weeks of experimenting and endless baking in your kitchen, but you're finally able to make something that you're proud of. The next time that you catch wind of the infamous fleet anchoring itself at the harbor, you're ready for him as he walks through the door.

Kazuha glances at the plate that you offered in front of him. "Is this...what I think it is?"

You nod excitedly. "Surprise! I can't let you leave empty-handed this time." You put a hand up to stop him. "No buts, Kazuha. Please, just taste-test this for me? I want to make sure I got it right."

He takes a translucent Mizu Manjuu from the plate, and your heart can't help but thrum in your ears in anticipation. He pops it cleanly into his mouth, causing you to lean forward to catch his reaction.

He chews, and the longer he does the more you notice the gold flecks in his eyes sparkling back at you. An emotion that you recognize in many of your other customers take hold of him, one that twists the face into euphoric happiness and subsequent nostalgic sentimentality. In that moment, what memories had flooded him?

"This is..." There's a catch in his voice. "This is absolutely delicious. How did you learn to make these?"

"I have some help." You smile in satisfaction. "Did they taste like the real thing?"

"That and everything more. You have a marvelous talent, (Y/N). Your sweets have a special quality that I don't think even the best vendors in Inazuma could hope to replicate."

The blush that blooms from your cheeks travel all the way up to the tips of your ears. "You flatter me too much, Kazuha."

The white-haired ronin raise a hand close to your cheek, wiping away the streak of flour on it and leaving a behind a tingling trail, his smile genuine. "My words may be embellished, but they are never insincere."

You realize then though you love to feed all of your customers, you've come to love feeding Kazuha the most. He weaves his way into your heart as easy as the wind through your hair, planting himself into every corner of your mind and refuses to let go. It's as natural as shaping perfectly round sweet buns, so much so that you never feel like you have to rely on a recipe or method, even with your first kiss.

That's how you find yourself having to smack your boyfriend's hand as he dips a finger into the bowl of matcha cream that you're mixing.

"Kazuha," you scold. "That's for the dorayaki."

"I'm just tasting for you, my love," he says innocently. "It's delicious, as usual."

"For your information, I've already tasted it." You push the bowl further away from him. "I remember saying that about the red bean filling too, but that didn't stop you, did it?" Even as you say so, you find yourself giving him the spoon you used. Consider it a reward for him making the pancakes.

So there you stand with Kazuha in the cramp kitchen — him somehow still able to flip the pancakes expertly while having a hand around your waist, you spreading the filling onto them, both of you laughing and sneaking sweet kisses.

The kitchen smells of butter and sugar. And gods, does it feel like home.

#kaedehara kazuha #kazuha #kazuha x reader #kazuha drabbles #genshin impact #genshin x reader #sagi's recommendation #momiji's collection #spring blooming event #momiji's special events

[sealz888]

Adventurer Cookie X Blackberry Cookie (Advenberry Headcanons)!!

- Adventurer cookie would sneak Blackberry Cookie into the storage closets, attics and basements to explore the dark and dusty rooms but also to find artifacts. As they got older and Adventurer found more out about his grandad, he wanted to explore outside more and more.

- Blackberry Cookie came across a book about ghosts in the attic one time starting her interest the occult and dark fantasy.

- One time they both got stuck in a haunted library had a Scooby doo-esc chase with a powerful spirit and however Bb found a purple flame candle which allowed her to get more intune with her ghostly abilities and managed to outsmart the spirit.

- Bcause of these enhanced abilities, and around the candle it spreads in the area a bit which allowed Adventurer to interact and see ghosts but no powers. This is how he can see Onion Cookie. However, when adventurer was younger, occasionally, onion was able to manifest herself and play with him, but he grew out of it along with bb at around the ages of 5. Bb got possessed at the age of 7, and found the candle about 8 months later so they thought she went on holiday or to a boarding school despite onion cooking being 4-6.

- During their teen years, Adventurer Cookie was forbidden from interacting with Bb and her mother (Bb's mother was a single mother and would live in their mansion and work as maid, rather than Bb herself). However, being teenagers they snuck out secretly and hung out on adventures. Around this time they both slowly realised they were in love but Blackberry Cookie was in slight denial at first. She finally accepted it when he did something kinda stupid and had a goofy grin on his face.

- Adventurer had very low self esteem as his family has pressured him to not be his trueself, so while madly in love with her, he'd believe she didn't reciprocate.

-Adventurer did a stereotypical, "I love you, Blackberry!" While they were both being chased by a rolling bolder and while Bb thought it was a spur of the moment thing. Eventually he confessed for real and was absolutely shocked at it. This went HORRIBLY. But not his fault.

- Adventurer Cookie is sort of a himbo but quite knowledgeable in history, geography and can calculate distances but basic medical knowledge but everything else he can't do. He can only cook and make rations too.

- Adventurer cookie's grandad is Cartographer Cookie*(see footnote), his grandmother is fritter cookie, his mother is Almond Butter Cookie, his dad is PBJ Cookie. Adventurer Cookie is peanut butter flavoured, his brother is pecan pie cookie and his older sister is browned butter cookie. He is distantly related to Almond and Walnut Cookie (think father's brother's kid, which is Almond and Walnut is his daughter)

-Bb's mother is blackcurrant cookie and her father is Devil's chocolate cookie. She also had identical twin sisters, coal cookie and charcoal cookie, however Bb's father passed when she was 6 and her twin sisters died very young from disease.

- They both got married in the jungle, with both families present. Adventurer Cookie was bawling his eyes out from happiness. Onion was also present, which they later on adopted.

- due to the way his parents property is set up, there are multiple mansions on the property. Adventurer, Bb and Onion live in one, however, Blackberry owns a small apartment in the city, but Adventurer prefers to rought it so sometimes they go camping on the property and nearby forests. The apartment belonged to Bb's dad, but his mother couldn't afford bills, so they moved into the main mansion.

*FOOTNOTE: The name/concept/whatever of a cartographer cooke was intially down by @/mrmsprotagonist, however, I have a completely different design and is it grandfather instead of his father. Just thought I should mention this here to clarify any confusion or concerns.

#adventurer cookie #blackberry cookie #advenberry #cookie run #cr #crk #headcanons #adventurer cookie headcanons #onion cookie #sealzspeakz #sealzstuff #sealzheadcanonz

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ THE FORTUNE COOKIES ❜

with Angel Reyes.

Request: none. That's something I wrote for Angel, coming back from a run and finding reader at his house, about giving him a surprise.

Warnings: a lot of fluffiness, I think.

Word count: 1.3k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: @angels-reyes

Masterlist.

Standed up in the middle of the living room, you have one quick look around you. Everything is on point and you can't feel more proud. You just hope that he likes the surprise. Actually, it's not a surprise, because you told him that you would be waiting for him. But what you did waiting for him it's a surprise.

Angel and you have been, officially, together since two months ago and it's the first time he has had to do a trip, out of Santo Padre. You don't know where he has to go, because he talks to you about the club and his business carefully, introducing you into his world step by step, without hurry. But at least you know at what time he's going to be back.

His flat isn't a mess anymore. Everything is in order. The windows are opening, letting the soft Cali breeze travel around the house. The table is settled up with different cardboard boxes from Angel's favorite chinese restaurant. Fried rice, fried noodles with beef and prawns, chicken with bamboo and almonds and a lot of fortune cookies. Of course, the beers are getting colder in the fridge. It cost you a lot to do everything, having to work in the meantime at the hospital. And again, yes, you're proud, but your hands start to shake when you recognize the buzz from his motorbike coming closer.

Some short minutes after and with your heart about to fly off from your chest, the door gets opened by Angel. He looks tired. Just tired. The black bags under his eyes tell you that he didn't sleep many hours. His knuckles are slightly red because of the leather gloves and his skin is a little bit toasted. But before you can say anything, he looks around until flooding his gaze on you.

“What's tha'?” He asks confused, closing the door behind him.

He doesn't move a single inch, leaving his bag fall onto the floor. Your smile disappears, with your nerves becoming stronger and briefly painful. Turning over your feet, you start to think that maybe it was too much. So he's not going to laugh when you tell him how you managed everything.

“I… thought that… you wouldn't like to… find a mess here, so… I was bored of studying and… I cleaned it for you”. You say trying to hide the tremble that is hitting your vocal chords.

The mexican walks close to the auxiliary table, next to the sofas, squatting to open every box on it and check what is inside them. Raising his face to you with parted lips, Angel shakes his head more confused than one minute ago.

“How do you…?”

“Well, tha—that's a funny history…” You chuckle, feeling somewhat edgy, pointing at the table with a tremble finger. But he doesn't say a single word, waiting for an explanation, standing up to face you. “I wanted to… ah… cook for you, but I wasn't sure how to use those… burners. I grew up in a house with vitroceramic. So… I remembered that you have mentioned that your brother works with you, and… I don't have his number, so… I went to the scrapping”.

“You… what?” He asks twisting his neck, crossing an arm over his chest, covering his mouth with the free hand.

“I thought that… he could tell me wh—what was your favorite restaurant, so... I could order something. But there was a creepy gu—”.

“Chucky”.

“Yeah, yeah… Chucky. He told me that he… wasn't allowed to give me EZ's number, because… you know… he doesn't know who I am. But he told me about your father”.

“Did you go to my pops carnicería…?”

He's freaking out in silence, and you're starting to think that it's actually a funny history. For cops. Before arresting you.

“Felipe is… ah… I like him. He's wise, and kind, and… he was happy to meet me...? He actually said he was happy to meet me bec—because I was doing… all this for you”.

Angel is blinking more than normally, because he can't believe any of your words, passing you away in silence straight to the kitchen to grab a beer. Resting his waist against the counter, opening the bottle and having a long, long sip, the man cleans his mouth with the back of his hand. He wants to say something. He really wants to do it. But he just keeps silent, because he knows you haven't finished.

“I… called Ezekiel. He was co—confused at first. I told him I was just… a friend… as I told your father, and, ah… that I wanted to prepare you a surprise”.

“You did all that shit to find out... which was my favorite restaurant?”

Nodding with your lips slightly shaking, when he comes back to your position, you try to find an excuse hearing how bad it sounds.

“Angel… I know I didn't have to… go to the scrapping, or talk to your father, nor your brother… I know that… Shit, I feel like one of those crazy bitches from Netflix series…”

Bowing your head down for a second, you hear him taking a deep breath by his nose. About to cry. Finding his eyes filled with tears and his chest rising and falling quickly, you frown confused, raising both hands to his cheeks.

“Ang—Angel, I'm sorry…” You mutter when he begins to shake his head, pressing his knuckles against his eyes. “I just wan—”.

“I love you”. He mumbles in tears, making disappear all your nerves.

Your boyfriend breaks into a loud cry, resting his forehead over your shoulder, hugging you strongly against him. You're not sure how to react about these words, or about hearing him like that. In the end, it's just a dinner. You don't want to imagine how it's going to be when you learn to use the burners, to cook for him. Gently caressing his scalp and his messy hair, you lead him to the closer sofa, trying to calm him surrounding his back with both arms. You were so nervous that you didn't notice how much you have missed him, and that you're really happy to have him back at home.

“Shit, sorre'…” He whispers suddenly, sitting up somewhat better, letting you clean his tears with your fingers. “I'm… I'm fucking tired and I know I told you tha'… you could wait fo' me here. But I wasn' expecting you, or expecting… all these things you did. Nobody had done something like that for me, (Y/N)”.

“Clean your house or act like a crazy chick?”

“Both”. You chuckles making him laugh, without being able to loosen the grip on your body.

“So… Aren't you angry beca—”.

“I couldn'... Fuck... Look at all the things you did. My house was a fucking mess... and you spent a lot of time going from one side to another just to… have dinner”. He continues laughing, urging you to sit on his lap and hug you tightly.

“Yeah, and it's gonna get cold if you don't hurry taking a shower and changing your clothes”.

“Do I smell that bad…?”

“Yeah… more or less”. You reply teasing him, narrowing your eyes and wrinkling your nose. “But… I love you like that, mi angelito”.

“You know what?”

“Hm…?”

“We're gonna take a shower together. Then, we're gonna eat all this food, and after that… I'm gonna take you to the club, to meet my brothers”.

“But…” Pursing your lips, you adjust your arms around his neck. “Are you sure…? I mean, you don't have to, if you don't feel ready…”

“I am, mi dulce. I want everyone to meet you”.

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#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes

[stargazerholland]

Home - Peter Parker

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary : You’re left to do an English assignment that catches you off guard, but Peter may or may not have been your inspiration.

Warnings: Cussing (let me know if you find any, though!)

Words: 3.2 k

What is home? The message was sprawled across the board as your English teacher, Mr. Gilloway stared at the class, eyebrows scrunched up and his hooked nose crinkled. The soft light bounced off of his bald head. 

“Since you all like to complain about wanting to go home, you might as well write down what is home. You can either write it as a descriptive piece, because I’d live to know why you want to go so badly,” he said sarcastically, “Or whatever comes to mind. It’s due in a month, so Flash, you better not complain about not having completed your work. You will also have to present in front of the class just so I can hear your wonderful voices grace my god-awful days. Class dismissed.” 

You had no idea as to what is home to you, as you’ve never felt at home wherever you go. It seemed as though you never stuck to one place. A million thoughts ran through your mind thinking of a solution as to how you were going to come up with an answer, when you meet up with your best friends, Ned Leeds and Peter Parker near the school’s overcrowded parking lot.

“Hey, Y/N! Are you ok? You look a bit.. distracted.” Ned stated, his voice laced with concern. Ned always looked out for you, right after Peter. The duo had welcomed you into their “super secret that no other soul should ever be told cult” with open arms, when you had first moved to Queens. Overtime, the three of you were inseparable, the school knowing you as the three who would be sitting in the quiet, snug corner of the cafeteria fighting over who was the actual hero in Star Wars. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just thrown ‘off the rails’, if that’s even a saying,” You created air quotes to try to emphasize it, “it’s just Mr. Gilloway being a pain in the ass with his ‘deep and meaningful projects’ that are supposed to bring us to a realization of some unknown idea to our ‘uneducated minds’, whatever he means.” The Polynesian boy smiled, his pudgy cheeks showing off the rosiness of his almond skin tone.

“Peter and I both told you not to take AP English and look at where it got you, huh,” he taunted, as you looked to see both of them give their signature ‘I told you so’ faces, with their eyebrows raised and an amused smile, “just goes to show that we’re always right.” 

With a roll of your eyes, you moved on to go home, 

“Yeah, yeah, thanks mom. I’m gonna head out now. See you in chem tomorrow.” Before you left to catch the subway, Peter grabbed your wrist and said, 

“Wanna come over? May misses you and we’d love to have you for the evening.”

You quickly nodded in affirmation and sent your mom a text to let her know about your whereabouts. The ride to his place was the same as always, sharing the headphones to listen to AC/DC, you complaining about Flash being your lab partner, and Peter sharing the previous night’s events during his patrol. Everything felt right at the moment, as if he was your safety blanket. Peter had the ability to radiate this sense of comfort even if you were across the room from him. 

The subway finally stopped at your final destination, and you soon found yourself in the small, cozy apartment. It was the same as always, the soft grey throw blanket draped over the back of the worn out brown couch, and the smell of charred bread in the air. It was simple, just like the family. You sent a simple wave to Peter’s Aunt May and followed Peter to his room to start on your Chemistry homework. 

Hours later, there were papers filled with math calculations and Chemistry formulas scattering the small room, as Peter was munching on some cheese-flavored potato chips. 

“Did you get seventeen moles of copper nitrate for number 8?” Peter inquired, causing you to let out a groan.

“It’s seventeen? I got twenty-nine. Pete, I’m a hopeless teenager who doesn’t understand a single thing about this right now,” You heard a chuckle across from you and looked up, only to find Peter staring at you, something was different about his expression, but you still threw you eraser at him. Peter simply replied, 

“Instead of complaining, you could have just asked. Lemme see what’s wrong… Ah,” he went on to explain the confusing lesson, however everything he said became sets of useless words as you were focusing on what was happening to you. Your entire body filled with warmth, while your heart was beating feverishly, like you’d just ran a marathon. The constant feeling of elevation in your stomach was overbearing, it felt like the spark on a tungsten before it reached the gunpowder for fireworks. It was different to what authors wrote in their stories, it was so much more than what you’d imagine, but it didn’t feel like love. The constant overcame your mind until you heard Peter call your name,  

“Y/N, Y/N, are you still alive? May’s calling us for dinner, it’s Thai Food Thursday.” For the rest of the night, you could feel yourself being distant and distracted from the conversation, all thanks to Peter. 

A week later, you still hadn’t made any progress on your English paper, which made you dread English class even more than you had before. Your past made it harder to even get an understanding of what home even was when all you could think of was your father. 

Your father was always distant from you and your mother, acting like a guest at a bed and breakfast where he was only there for the night. Some weeks, he’d have to leave for a business trip, not coming back for a few weeks, or at least you thought that until you found him at a city nearby while being on a class field trip the fifth grade. He was with a familiar woman who you’d known growing up, Aunt Lydia, your mother’s younger sister. It turned out that your father had become infatuated with her in the duration of his first marriage, eventually starting a new family with Aunt Lydia and being much happier with her. The news spread like wildfire in a forest, eventually getting to your mother last. It broke you to know that your father would rather spend his days with some other kids than with you, another woman instead of your mother. After a short 2 weeks, the two of you had packed your bags and moved to Queens to forget the past, making it seem as if everything you knew from before was now supposed to be thrown out of a window. The project was no use when now all you could think of was a cold space where tension was intermingled in the air, and pain stained into the deepest threads of the couch pillows when you thought of home. 

The library was almost completely empty, which was usual considering that the people of New York had better things to do than spend their time at the library, except for you, Peter, and now Ned. It was your annual reader’s binge night, where you’d all spend the afternoon reading a book from start to end, and then go out for a sub at the small, family-owned deli from around the corner. It was a tradition, and allowed you to bask in each other’s presence without the hassle of having to talk. The sounds of iced coffee being sipped and the constant whoosh of pages could be heard throughout the day. After the author had infuriated you enough with their cliche-filled sci-fi novel, you looked up to break the silence, until the sight of the room stopped you. More specifically, Peter. The sunlight shining in through the gigantic windows had illuminated the small features of his fair, pale face, like the freckles that were sprinkled all over his nose and cheeks just as the course sugar on sugar cookies. His chestnut brown hair became an array of colors as the copper undertones shining through, as he was concentrating on the book before him. Peter’s state of peace made you feel safe, as if nothing bad was going to happen to you. The time flew by as if it were like seconds as you continued to take in his image, until you felt a twinge on the side of your head, looking to your side to find a plastic straw on the ground.

“Y/N, you can stare at Peter after finishing the book. Now hurry up or else Mr. Delmar’s is gonna close up shop before we even finish!” Ned exclaimed as he smirked at your actions. Peter softly chuckled as you flipped off Ned, before all three of you went back to the book. While you mindlessly flipped pages, all that you could ponder was the same weird feeling that you felt at Peter’s house. It was almost as if you belonged there, as if you weren’t an outcast who had came out of nowhere. There was something about the feelings you had that you couldn’t comprehend completely, but it was becoming more and more prominent to you each day. Whatever the universe is trying to tell me, it sure is fucking me over, you thought, just as you saw your best friends close their books. Peter saw your expression, it was evident that you were deep in thought, and asked, 

“You okay, Y/N?” To which you simply replied in the most New York way possible, 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Wanna go grabba sub now?”

You picked up the group’s sandwiches and headed over when you heard Ned and Peter talking about you, 

“I don’t know, Ned, Y/N is hard to be around when she can’t even take a hint,” You stopped dead in your tracks, like gravity was pulling you down and you weren’t able to move your feet. It felt like the day at the school field trip, everything you once knew was fabricated and far from what you thought your friendship was. 

“Peter, you’re going to have to tell her someday. It’s hurting you and it's probably gonna hurt her too in the future,” you took your chance and walked in before any more damage could be done to your friendship. 

“Whatcha talkin’ about?” You said as you sat down. The two shook their heads, muttering words that you couldn’t make out, and started a new conversation. Throughout the rest of the day, you couldn’t help but wonder about what you’d done wrong, guilt and fear flowing through your veins as if your blood had been replaced with it. 

You  invited Peter over the next day for dinner to repay him for when you ate at his house last time, and in hopes to try to mend whatever tension Peter was feeling. The dingy apartment that you’d been living in for the past 5 years was usually dull and quiet, your mom still hadn’t comprehended how her sister could betray her and you were left trying to feel the same way as she did when you were younger, when your family wasn’t broken. While eating the burnt ends of your chicken parm, the English project was still running on your mind. Of course Peter knew you were thinking about it, so naturally, he had to ask how the English assignment was coming along. 

“I can’t connect with anyone or anything that relates to my home. I am genuinely convinced that literally everyone hates me, and soon I’ll be living alone with my three cats in a studio apartment!” You complained as your arms flew up in exaggeration. Peter, on the other hand, seemed frustrated, with his eyes in annoyance and his knuckles turning white from clenching them so hard. Peter cried,

“Well, maybe if you would just open up and try to let more people into your life, then you wouldn’t be here right now!” At this point, the tension you tried to get rid of was now a thick fog that couldn’t be seen through. 

“That’s impossible, Peter! You, out of all people, know it’s hard for me to get close with someone, when practically no one finds me bearable,” you looked at him with anger, “not even you.” Peter was taken aback, 

“How did you hear that?” 

“So it was true,” you scoffed as you felt the wet trail of plump tears run down your cheeks, “gee, thanks a lot, Pete.” He stood up, intimidating you, as he boomed,

“Well, yeah, it is. All you ever do is push away anyone whoever tries to get close to you. You’ve built this thick barrier around everyone and it stupid. Grow up and stop acting like a four year-old, it's annoying,” and immediately walked out the tiny apartment’s door. 

You sunk down in your chair, the tears flowing faster and add onto the pain-ridden apartment. There goes someone else I love, you pondered, I love you, Peter, more than I’ve loved anyone else. 

Your English assignment was now due in a week and a half's worth of time and you’d barely had an outline or a single idea as to what you wanted to write about. For multiple nights, you would just sit in front of your grey, busted laptop and stare at the blank document until you’d figured it was now time to sleep. Multiple sentences that were once on the document soon disappeared by the click of a button immediately after.

As sleep-deprived teenagers rushed to leave the room, you went up to Mr. Gilloway, intimidated by the hunch on his back that formed every time he was scrolling down the New York Times about another political outburst from the Senator. It wasn’t that Mr. Gilloway was bad in person, it was just that he tended to be very unfiltered. All it took was one glance from him and you knew that you were going to take in the bitter and harshful words about not working on the assignment. But you took the leap anyway, and took all the courage you had in you to ask,

“Mr. Gilloway, I don’t know what to write for the assignment. I keep thinking about it, but nothing is coming to mind and I really have no clue as to what home is.” Squeezing you eyes, you braced for the string of words that were meaningless to him.  

“Well, what was it like for you to be at home? Anyone particular who comes to mind? Or perhaps a memory that just replays over and over in your head? Remember, Y/N that home is not a definitive object, you can make it anything you want. It could be the simplest idea, or something over the top, but that is what it means to you. I have full trust in you to go with your guts and write wha’ is home to you,” Mr. Gilloway gently replied. His response was out of character compared to who he really was. It was unrecognizable, sympathy and gentleness was the last thing that would come across anyone’s mind when they thought of Mr. Gilloway. Unable to form words, you nodded your head, only to hear, “Now go, I need to catch up on what our jackass of a Senator we have right now.” 

It wasn’t until you got onto your laptop once again when you knew what to write about. You finally had an idea. 

It was finally the day of the presentation and your nerves got the best of you. The past week was more muted, with evenings spent writing the English assignment, and the daytime spent studying in the library in hopes to avoid Peter. It was also the most emotionally draining week, knowing you couldn’t just go up and tell him how you really felt about him. 

Y/N, it’s your turn. And Flash, puh-LEASE keep the flirting for someplace else, my classroom is not a ‘Singles Mingle’,” Mr. Gilloway said. The voice at the back of your head kept telling you don’t mess up, don’t mess up, don’t mess up. The anxiety of sharing something so intimate with a group of bored teenagers was nerve wracking, so much so that your hands were quivering. 

“Home is an abstract idea, and to most people, it is their place to go to sleep, eat, and repeat. In my entire life, I'd never felt like I was at home until just recently when I came to know how I know I am at home. Home is a blend of emotions, where there are multiple feelings every time you’re there, A sense of belonging, where no matter how different, broken, or mismanaged  a person is, they still know that the very spot will always let them be themselves. Home is where a person feels comfort and safety, where they know that they will be supported and consoled through all the times you’ve been through. A sense of adoration that lingers in the air, making a person feel loved for who they are. The idea that a person knows who they are when they’re at this place, or with this person, makes us realize that this very place is our home. My home is with someone who I’ve known for a while, and even a glance into their brown eyes makes me feel complete. As they always say, home is where the heart lies.” 

You looked around the room to see blank stares and an unusual smile from Mr. Gilloway, but it was relieving to feel the overbearing weight of not knowing yourself being lifted off your shoulders. 

Once class had ended, you heard your name being called by none other than Peter. 

“Was your speech about me?” Peter had a look of desperation and hope, “I feel like home to you?” How’d he listen? You thought, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.  

“I asked Mr. Gilloway,” Peter had read your mind, “Y/N, I only said I couldn’t bear you because I’m so deeply in love with you, but you never see that. It’s kind of hard to be friendzoned all the time, y’know?” 

The moment you had awaited all along finally came in the least expected way, nor was it how everyone else described it to be. There were no fireworks in the background but instead, it was just as if the world had stopped around you. 

“I love you too, Peter,” you whispered. 

“So is it true?” With a simple nod and a small smile, you said, 

“Yeah, it is about you, Peter.” A soft smile creeps up his face as he pulls you into his arms. It felt right, as if your body was perfectly molded to fit into his embrace. You decided to take the risk and pulled away, placing your hands over his pillowy cheeks, and pulled him towards you. You placed your lips on his, they were soft and smooth, with a hint of vanilla from the chapstick you made him use after seeing how rough they were a few months back. Peter kissed back, trying to empty all the love and adoration he had kept inside of him. 

You couldn’t tell what the future held for you two, but you made a vow, right then and there that you would protect him with your entire heart, help him after his patrol’s and night, and most importantly, keep him in your heart for the rest of your life. 

This was your home, right here with Peter. 

A/N: Hi! I hope you liked this piece, I’ve had a a writer’s block for almost 2 years now, so to write this was a bit of a struggle, but it’s all good! Feel free to send over any requests or criticism. I also have to give an honorary mention to @wazzupmrstark​! Her INCREDIBLE works gave me a bit of a push and inspo to get back to writing, so thank you so so much Kaili! (i’ll stop annoying you guys, byee :) )

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #imagine peter parker #mcu #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfics #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman fanfic #spiderman imagines #spiderman x reader #stargazerhollandworks #imagine spiderman #spiderman #peter parker oneshot #spiderman one shot #spider-man fanfiction #spider-man fanfic #spider-man imagines

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Labor of Love: A Critical Role Shadowgast Fanfic

I don’t have any excuse for this besides have a cute modern with magic bakery shadowgast AU in this trying time with a healthy dose of food description and stressed businessman Essek trying to find love in a modern with magic world. If people would like me to continue this, let me know!

Enjoy!

Read on AO3

Preview:

*“Guten Morgen, welcome to Xhorhaus Bakery. How can I help you?”

Essek’s mouth went dry.

The face that met his was attractive in the very traditional Empire way. In fact, the man looking at him looked as if he had stepped right out of an Empire propaganda film espousing the ye olde Zemnian way of life. There were the deep set blue eyes, the long copper hair pulled out of the way in a bun. He had pale freckled skin and the shadow of a ruddy beard beginning at his jaw. There was a dusting of flour or sugar on his cheek, and he wore a simple white shirt with a blue apron tied at his hips. It wasn’t fair that he had to meet someone so attractive so early in the morning, Essek thought derisively.*

Essek often wondered if he was born cursed, or if his disdain for most living things rubbed off on his environment and made it almost impossible to function. It wasn’t as if he tried to be hateful or annoyed at most things in life, it’s just that most things were so thoroughly irritating that it was desperately hard to function. He wondered if everyone felt this way...or if it was only him. 

That was the thought that crossed Essek’s mind as he sat in traffic for ten minutes. His car, a shiny black new model grumbled in discontent as white fumes danced into the cold Rosohna air. His GPS finally pinged to let him know there was a road closure, and in a fit of desperation, Essek swung his car into the left lane and turned off the street and onto the next avenue. Rosohna was a relatively updated city, and having lived there all his life he tended to be able to navigate it well. This, however, would be an annoying detour.  

“Hey Hallas, text Leylas Kryn,” Essek asked as he tapped the steering wheel. He jabbed at his radio, turning off Marion Lavorre’s latest single half way through her call for her love to treat her the way she deserved. Good for her.  

“What would you like to say?” his phone asked him, lighting up from where it sat cradled on his dashboard. 

“Road closed, running late and won’t be able to go by your preferred coffee shop. GPS says I’m 15 minutes out. I’ll try to swing by another place on the way,” Essek said, as clearly and concisely as he could. Hallas managed to read back the message before Essek sent it. Almost immediately his phone pinged in response and the message was read out. 

"Alright. Thank you for letting me know, the ambassador is running late anyways so you have some time." 

 Essek sighed, drumming his fingers with a bit more intensity. He didn’t like this day already and it had barely started. 

He plugged his GPS and looked for the closest coffee shop with the best reviews on the way. His GPS pinged with the place, a bakery called the Xhorhaus Bakery. It was a kitschy name, with a bare bones website, but it would just have to do. With few other options, Essek set his sights for the place. Essek pulled in at the quaint bakery, thankful for the empty parking spot in the front.  Essek didn't like new things as a rule. New meant unpredictable and unknowable, and Essek prided himself on knowing everything that was going on all at once at all times. 

Essek rushed through the door, hand on his phone and tapping it to the parking monitor sensor. He caught a glimpse of frosted glass and pretty dark brick, but barely paid attention until he was in the door. 

Essek nearly swallowed his own tongue as his brain screeched to a grinding halt. 

It was utterly magic. That was really the only way to describe it. Display cases were bursting with pastel-frosted cupcakes and sugar-glazed fruit tarts. There were rows of sweets...golden dough puffs filled with ricotta and cherries and dusted with confectioners sugar, macarons arranged like beautiful shiny buttons, turnovers fashioned like ship masts, elephant ears, honey-buns shaped like bees, cookies pressed into whimsical shapes. There was a whole section for ice cream, waffles and crepes advertised on the weekends. Mothers and fathers cradled children and laughed as a bright blue tiefling dolled out what looked like free samples, a tall firbolg carrying a tray disappeared into the back as a half-orc came in to slide another tray of cookies into an empty rack. At the sit down section, a halfling and two human women of various sizes both carried trays of different styled cups and kettles to customers. The whole place had an eclectic vibe, like things had been found at consignment stores and sales and brought together to fill the place. Each table was different and the chairs were all different too in a way that looked half-planned and half-thrown together. Like the business had been a half-thought half-dream that had gained a foothold in wakefulness.  

Thankfully, Essek was in a line. He absorbed the information that lay before him quickly, as well as skimming the coffee menu that was emblazoned on the board in chalk. There were categories like, Breakfast with Beau, Bakery Favorites, and Cad’s Tea Corner. Bakery Favorites seemed to be the safest choice. The edges of the boards were doodled with flowers and cute animals and...was that a dick? No. Probably not he was just seeing things. Though it wasn’t an exact match to what his boss and her wife usually got, he hoped it would be good enough that she would forgive the difference and the lateness. 

He got up to the counter, having practiced his order in his head at least a dozen times. The wait time hadn’t been long, nor was the line. That at least was a benefit over the place he usually stopped to get his boss’s drinks. Their usual place was a trendy cafe with a dizzying variety of brews that was operated by people who looked down at you for not knowing a medium was a grande. Essek tended to feel safe in a place of rigid social roles like that, so it never bothered him. This was a new frontier. 

“Guten Morgen, welcome to Xhorhaus Bakery. How can I help you?” 

Essek’s mouth went dry. 

The face that met his was attractive in the very traditional Empire way. In fact, the man looking at him looked as if he had stepped right out of an Empire propaganda film espousing the ye olde Zemnian way of life. There were the deep set blue eyes, the long copper hair pulled out of the way in a bun. He had pale freckled skin and the shadow of a ruddy beard beginning at his jaw. There was a dusting of flour or sugar on his cheek, and he wore a simple white shirt with a blue apron tied at his hips. It wasn’t fair that he had to meet someone so attractive so early in the morning, Essek thought derisively. 

“One venti matcha latte with almond milk and a single pump of agave, one venti iced caramel macchiato, as light on the ice as possible, and one tall black coffee,” Essek said in a perfectly even and rehearsed tone, working past the fact he felt like he was being punched repeatedly in the face each time he noticed something new about the extremely handsome man. He was wearing a nametag but he just couldn’t focus enough to read it. His hands were large. Really large. Gods above and below, were bakeries always this warm? 

“Which blend would you like for the black coffee?” 

“What?” Essek asked, startled because for some reason the handsome man was still talking to him. 

“For the black coffee,” the man repeated, pointing to the different...canniesters? What did you call those? He didn’t know the word. Coffee-holder would be what he would call it in Undercommon. Essek didn’t like this. He was going off script. This was why he hated new places. “We have three blends. Dark, medium, and light.” 

Did it matter? Essek thought, now concerned that it did. He had always just assumed that the different types..obviously were roasted for different times. But it all tasted the same to him. 

“Dark,” Essek said, feeling as if this had been happening for an hour. He needed to go lay down. The handsome man began to press the buttons into his register. 

“Would you like anything else? We have some samples of our honey-buns,” the man said, motioning to the tray on the counter with bite-sized portions cut out. “They are our highest seller for breakfast items.” 

“I’ll take a dozen,” Essek said. Hopefully this too would help ease the fact he was definitely late, plus, the office-girls always loved sweet things. He offered his card to the cashier, who motioned to the coins-only sign. “I’m sorry, sir. Card reader is down unfortunately. Haven’t had a chance yet to renew the enchantment.”

“It’s no problem,” Essek said, fishing out his coin purse and placing the coins into his hand. His skin brushed--hot, no he wasn’t thinking about it.  

“Of course,” the man said. “I’ll get that ready for you. I’ll need a name for the coffees though.”

“Essek.” 

“Thank you.”   

Essek stepped to the side, the place labeled with pick up. Essek stood there, trying to be interested in his phone. Empire News Network was reporting about some sort of sea creature sighting by sailors. He was more interested in the little white-board by the pick up station. Written in beautiful looping cursive was “Send me a Message!”, the name of the messaging and photo app that was popular nowadays. There was a list of names...most likely employees: @nottthebrave, @captntusktooth, @ohnoregard, @caddyshack, @orphanmaker, @littlesapphire, @caleb_widogast, and @frumpkinthefeyking. Above them all was @XhorhausBakery, the emblem with the little cat and the crown next to a tree. 

Bad idea, Essek thought, though his own Message was open. This was a bad idea. But which one was the hot cashier? It wouldn’t hurt...just to follow him would it? He needed to figure out which one of them was the hot cashier, but, he didn’t think he could look at the hot cashier for long without his eyes burning. 

“Coffees and honey-buns for Essek!” 

The cheerful accented voice came from the blue tiefling, who nearly leaned over the counter. She was dressed in a white dress and the blue apron, and wore a pink bandana tied to the top of her head in front of her curled horns. On the front of her apron was pinned the name tag, “Hi I’m Jester!” 

“You made the right choice, though I also love the elephant ears, oh and the macarons, but don’t get me started on the cupcakes!” Jester said excitedly, giving him the drinks in the drink holder and the box. The box itself was a simple robin’s egg blue, but it was tied with a pretty pink ribbon. “You should come back for the cupcakes! We enchant them so they give you different sensations as you eat!” 

“Are all the sweets here enchanted?” Essek asked, suddenly now very nervous about the box of treats he was holding. 

“Yep! We’re a maaaagic bakery,” Jester said, with her fingers wiggling on the word magic. Essek noticed a holy symbol of some sort tied to her wrist. 

“What do these do?” Essek asked, holding up the box. 

“Oh! Those? The honey changes flavors, and it gives the scent of flowers as you chew! Like a little bee going through a field,” Jester said excitedly. “Right Caleb?” 

Essek’s head whipped to the side so fast he probably almost broke something. There was a large hand that raised with a thumb’s up. Hot cashier was Caleb. 

“Thank you,” Essek said, and without any further ado he was out of the bakery like hellhounds were at his feet. 

Essek managed to get to the meeting within the bounds of polite lateness. The Bright Queen accepted her drink, as did her wife Quana. Essek handed the box of honey-buns off to the receptionists who took them gleefully. He spent the first part of the morning responding to emails and inquiries. He quickly got together the itinerary for her next visit to Assarius for the conference on magic education. He absently pawed at his coffee, taking a quick sip. The coffee was good enough that he paused for a moment, before shaking his head. It was all mental, after all, it was just black coffee. It didn’t stop him from downing it though. 

“Essek,” Leylas Kryn said as she left her office. Essek ripped his tome-pad from its charging station and followed her as he usually did. “Thank Luxon, at least you are able to keep appointments. Why are people so incapable of keeping to schedule. You took care of the itinerary?” 

“Yes, the schedule was sent out to you and the core ambassadors five minutes ago,” Essek said as he tapped the screen open. “Travel has been booked, your private plane should be ready to go at 8:00. Hotel at the Pillow Trove has been arranged--the Royal Suite, as usual. I also made sure to set restaurant options for you, though I have of course included both my recommendations as well as your travel agent.” 

“Tell Orphea that I said no on the model she chose for the Tal’dorei spread. I said I wanted young, fresh, illuminating. She sent tired and dowdy. We want people to be celebrating the Xhorhassian cultural boom, the renaissance of our people might I add, and not rolling their eyes. Also RSVP that party Zethris Olios is holding if you haven’t done so.” 

“Already taken care of, ma’am. I told the driver to pick you up at 9:45 sharp, and made sure to request the drink selections for your entourage...in mini-bottles, of course.” 

“Wonderful work, Essek as always I know I can count on you,” she said with a nod before looking back at him. “And by the way, that latte you got me today was fantastic. I know Quana greatly enjoyed her drink as well. The girls were raving about those...uh...honey-buns all morning too. Make that your usual stop if you don’t mind. No use going to a coffee shop and a different bakery when you can just get everything at one place.”

Essek nearly tripped over his own feet, but managed to catch himself. After all, he couldn’t scuff his shoes. He had just bought them. 

“Of course,” Essek said, trying to write the reminder in his phone...his Message was just staring at him...hot cashier-Caleb taunting him. He had thought it would be one time. He could follow the man on his public Message page and oggle at him because he would never see him ever again. Attraction was so much neater and simpler if the people on the other end of it...well...if they were simply reduced to pictures of them and their cat maneuvering a coffee machine.  

It was fine though, Essek snapped at himself. He was an adult. He could deal with looking at an attractive man every morning. If anything, it would be a nice distraction from the daily grind. 

“Essek!” Maruo crowed from her office space as they walked by, her goblin ears perked up excitedly. “Those pastries you got were amazing! I was gonna eat the last one, but did you want it?” 

"No thank you...I don't particularly like sweets," Essek said, as graciously as possible. Leylas Kryn raised an eyebrow at him. She waved at Maruo who gave her the honey bun instead. 

"You don't like sweets?" she asked him, sounding extremely suspicious as they continued to walk. The sound of Leylas Kryn’s heels were enough to get everyone in the hallway to move out of her way. As they walked towards the elevator, the drow woman in it exited with a nod of her head and seemed content to wait for the next one.  

"Not really," Essek admitted. He couldn't remember the last pastry he had eaten. Part of the issue was that he didn't get very hungry. That morning he had a breakfast bar...the night before...well he had eaten leftover take out. He didn't remember eating lunch at all yesterday--he probably hadn't. He had been on the phone with the interviewer. Most of the time, he got home and was simply too exhausted to make a substantial effort. 

The other part of it was food didn't hold much appeal to him. He thought back to when he was growing...minimally but growing, and he had eaten two huge meals a day. He went out to dinner with these important executives and politicians now and picked at his plate. It took such an effort to get up in the morning and to do the things he needed to do that enjoying food was low on his priorities. 

"Eat it," she ordered, shoving the honey bun in his face as they walked out of the elevator and into the main lobby. "You need a little sweetening, Essek."

"Give him a whole box," Quana Kryn chuckled as she saddled up next to Leylas as they walked to the car. She was dressed in a power suit that immaculately matched Leylas’ little black dress and red pumps. It annoyed Essek how perfectly in sync they were, especially considering that Leylas left their house at least an hour before Quana so they didn’t even have time to coordinate.  Did having sex regularly do that to a couple? Essek didn’t delve in much further with that line of questioning

"I am perfectly pleasant at all times," Essek said, with a signature smile. 

"Of course, but something sweet never hurt anyone," Leylas said with an irritatingly knowing gaze as the driver opened the door for them. “Follow us in your car?” 

“Yes, of course, I will meet you there,” Essek said, and then with a pop of the door and the engine, the Kryns were off to take on Rosohna. Essek stood on the curb for a moment, looking at the honey-bun he had in his hand. With all the excitement that a child had when taking a health potion, Essek bit into the pastry. 

It was a revelation. Still crisp on the outside, fluffy on the inside. A smooth, mellow, and yet fragrant honey and cinnamon swirl sandwiched within layers of buttery, fluffy pastry. There was the scent of spring-time and lazy summer mornings when dew was fresh on the grass and wildflowers and there was that pleasant warmth in the air, and the frosting itself was vanilla and honey and just a dash of sea-salt. 

Before he realized it, it was gone from his hand. The magic had dissipated, and left him yearning for more. 

Oh no, he thought. This couldn’t end well.  

----

With the Kryns at the conference for the week, one would think that Essek may have time to breathe. However, being one of the high-ranking people at the company meant that somehow he got even more mucked down in the day-to-day tasks. He did go to the Xhorhaus Bakery a few more times, but always called in his order ahead. He would catch a glimpse of Caleb, on occasion receive a smile or a welcome, before being handed his order and rushing right out. Essek could pretend it was the assistants' fault...or the marketing department, who were all actually obsessed with the treats he was bringing in on a daily basis. But really, he was the sucker making the point to go in there like some sort of lovestruck teenager to ogle at the cute boy behind the counter.  

When he finally arrived on his day off, it was a solid relief. Though, as usual for being a drow, Essek was up early and with little to do. Essek didn’t enjoy cleaning...he did have people who did that after all. He technically had a gym membership...but hated working out more than anything. He ought to visit his den, as any good drow boy did on his day off, but the idea of seeing his family tended to make him nauseous. His eyes caught a stack of books that he hadn’t gotten around to reading--

It was a bad idea...but he was going to do it anyway. He had never been a paragon of wisdom anyways. He dressed as comfortably as he ever let himself dress, after all, life was a performance. If he wasn’t wearing the absolute best, then he was always going to be judged as the absolute worst. And on top of that, Essek was a vain creature who spent a lot of money on deep conditionings for his curls and on his crystal facials (which, honestly, the crystals probably didn’t do anything but they felt expensive and Essek always liked feeling expensive). The one thing he could always control was the way he looked, and he liked looking good. 

With his black leather messenger bag slung on his shoulder, his peacoat buttoned, and his boots on, he headed out into the cold morning. In Roshona it was always night, but definitely not temperature controlled. Essek buried his chin more stubbornly in his scarf as he continued to walk through the streets. When he arrived at Xhorhaus Bakery, he felt appropriately wind-tousled and cold. The building itself was warm, and wafted the crippling good scents butter and vanilla to a distracting degree. 

It was busy, as Essek had guessed it would be so early in the morning. His shoulder was beginning to ache by the time he reached the front counter. But all of his earthly concerns were wiped away when he met Caleb’s blue eyes. He still wore the white shirt and apron that was the uniform most likely, but that day he was also wearing a button with a cat on his apron. He still looked devastatingly attractive in every possible way and it wasn’t fair because he looked like he had just rolled out of the bed. Essek needed at least an hour in the morning to talk himself into being even vaguely pleasant. 

“Oh! Guten Morgen, and welcome back to the Xhorhaus Bakery,” Caleb said, a certain pleasant crinkle to his expression. He was smiling a soft, gentle smile that caught Essek off guard. “What can I get you this morning?” 

“What do you recommend for coffee?” Essek asked him, placing his palms on the counter--stretching cold-bitten fingers. He was having heart palpitations, he was pretty sure. He kept trying to look at Caleb and he just couldn’t. It was like looking into the headlights of a car. “I normally just drink black coffee but…” 

“I’ll make something for you then,” Caleb offered. “I have a drink in mind. I would also recommend our turnovers today.” 

“I’ll have that then,” Essek said, handing over his coins. Caleb took it, opened the ancient looking cash register and handed back the change. Essek slid it into the tip jar. 

“Danke. Is that for here or to go?”

“Here, thank you,” Essek said, reslinging the bag and going to find a table. 

Essek took a corner table by the window and set about settling in. He balanced his messenger bag on the extra chair before pulling out his books, parchment, and his fountain pen. Essek had always enjoyed spellcraft...he had majored in it in university. Advanced Dunamancy with a minor in Spellcraft Engineering. Gods, if there had been any sort of work besides military for wizardry Essek would have pursued it as a career. But the choice had been military or starving eternal adjunct professor and Essek didn’t find either attractive. Essek had applied for an internship at the government’s Cultural Offices, and had gotten that and through that had managed to work his way up to assistant to Leylas Kryn herself. 

It was a well paying job, with fashionable perks like fancy parties. But Essek didn’t love it. He was good at it, but he didn’t enjoy it. Essek didn’t enjoy much in life, so these little treasures he snuck were so much more important. 

He was in the middle of reading the second chapter of the Durolvir Lectures on Dunamancy when movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He lifted his head from his book just as the blue tiefling named Jester settled down the tray and the coffee. Her tail curled in the air like a cat catching the sight of something interesting to bat at. 

“You totally came back! I knew you would!” Jester said, leaning on the table. Her rather impressive muscles on this display and tipping the table slightly in her excitement. Essek scooped up his cup and the saucer to keep it from spilling on his book and on his notes. On the side of the cup it had the image of swans in a springtime scene, a rather quaint and adorable image. 

“I’m surprised you remembered me,” Essek noted, taking a sip of his coffee. It had milk, which was a departure from normal from him. It was smooth and creamy and honestly? The best cup of coffee he had ever had in his whole life. He hadn’t realized he had sighed until he saw Jester was still looking at him rather intently. 

“Well duh, of course I remember you. You’re hot boi!” 

“...hot boy?” Essek repeated somewhat incredulously. 

“I know your name, silly, but you are totally hot boy. Every time you’ve come in here you’ve ordered by phone, rushed in, and grabbed it. I was just surprised to see you actually sitting down this time, which you should do more because, like, we would get to hang out.”

“Well, thank you,” Essek said with a more legitimate smile. “Unfortunately, I am not very good company.”  

“I don’t believe that for a single minute,” Jester said suspiciously before shrugging playfully. “But it’s okay if you’re shy! Caleb can be shy too. So what do you do? Where are you from? What’s your mother’s name? Are you married?” 

“Are you always this curious?”

“Just about our regulars!” Jester chirped. “Ooookay maybe I lied, I’m curious about everyone but especially our regulars.”

“Well...I am not married. My mother’s name is Dierta Theylss, of Den Theylss. I am from here, and I am an assistant.” 

“Ooo, do you work for someone really cool?”

“Perhaps,” Essek said, settling down his cup as he felt that he was no longer in danger. “But I would like to keep some air of mystery.” 

“You are mysterious, Essek,” Jester said, utterly tickled-pink...or blue...by that. “Alright, well I gotta go get other people their things, I’ll be over here so just holler if you need something!”

“I will,” Essek promised but suddenly jumped as he felt the sensation of something brushing against his leg. He looked below to see a cat, a well-cared for orange tabby circling his legs. Essek was not used to cats...they were a rather foreign phenomenon that had just recently been introduced. Essek timidly reached his fingers out to brush his head and was rewarded with the creature butting its face against him. He yawned, gave him a slow blink, and then puttered off to parts unknown...which was a basket by the window.   

Now thoroughly distracted from his reading and with a plate in front of him, he took another crack at this sugar-thing. Essek took a bite from the turnover, and nearly groaned. The outside butter-puff-pastry was crisp, and the sugar nearly shattered. The inside was first caramel-apple and then it was sharp lemon and then again tart-sweet raspberry. He finished it quickly, taking long luxurious sips of his coffee after he did. Essek couldn’t help but wave over one of the servers he hadn’t met yet. It was the halfling woman who was balancing a tray full of plates and cups on her hip. On her shirt was a name tag that said “Veth”. 

“What’s up?” Veth asked curiously. 

“Do you know what sort of enchantment is being used in the baking process?” Essek asked. 

“It’s not an enchantment per say,” Veth said, brushing her apron with her free hand. “Caleb’s not an enchantment wizard, he’s a transmutation wizard.”

“Caleb is the one who developed this spell?” Essek asked. There was a fluttering of excitement in his chest. A wizard. Had someone magically engineered this man somewhere to make him absolutely perfect for Essek’s imagination? He came to this bakery to...well...enjoy his books and catch a few glimpses at the man. Essek hadn’t come there to get his heart stolen right out from his chest. 

“I helped him a bit, but yeah,” Veth said, tugging at her braid thoughtfully before she got a glint in her eyes. “If you are interested I’m sure he’d be happy to explain it to you.”

“Oh no, no,” Essek said, waving his hand desperately. Scripted conversations like ordering at the counter were totally fine. Essek enjoyed parameters and unspoken understandings of conduct, in fact, that was where he shined. But actually speaking to Caleb? Essek couldn’t think of anything more panic-inducing than that. 

“No, he’ll be absolutely thrilled!” Veth trilled excitedly. “I’ll go scrounge him up for you!”

She darted off before Essek could get in another word edgewise. This left Essek sitting there, his body nearly vibrating with uncontrolled dread. For a moment Essek seriously considered shoving his things into his bag and running out of the bakery. He wasn’t fast enough, however. As he saw Caleb pop out from behind the counter and begin to walk towards his table. He couldn’t risk never being able to come into this establishment ever again, so he just sat there as Caleb walked up to the table. He was taller than Essek had expected...maybe the counter had done something to his perspective besides giving him a barrier that allowed Essek to imagine that Caleb was some sort of perfect dreamt-up figment of Essek’s socially isolated imagination. 

“Veth said you had a question for me?” Caleb asked curiously. 

“Ah...it wasn’t anything so major...I was just curious about the spell used to change the flavors of the turnovers,” Essek said, taking a sip of his coffee to clear his suddenly clogged throat. He wished he could melt into the floor...to float away...to disappear completely. However Caleb’s open and earnest gaze kept Essek pinned there in the present. 

“It’s a modification of Minor Alchemy,” Caleb explained, taking the empty seat across from him. 

“Temporary changes the essence of one object into another for a short period of time,” Essek said, his fascination pushing back his embarrassment. “How do you do it on such a large scale then?” 

“I cast it on the filling as it’s being made,” Caleb explained, there was a certain twinkle in his eye. “Are you interested in spellcraft, Herr Essek? I see you are certainly reading some heavy texts.” 

“Oh,” Essek said, looking down at the books scattered about in front of him. “Wizardry is just a hobby of mind nowadays.”

“I don’t think Advanced Studies on Magic, Time, and Space sounds like a hobby,” Caleb joked, holding up the textbook before settling it down with a reverence that had Essek’s stomach twist. “Though I have to admit, dunamancy has been an area I’ve been extremely interested in since immigrating to Xhorhas.” 

“University is still selective...well, racist would be a better term for it...against Empire nationals,” Essek said softly, smoothing the page in front of him. “Unfortunately, it is just a hobby for me nowadays. I used to be a working wizard, but...well, the bills don’t pay themselves. It’s not a very interesting story so I won’t bore you with the details.”  

“I have been lucky enough to be able to use what I love every day with the help of my friends,” Caleb said with a knowing look. “I hope you can do that too at some point.” 

“Yes...I would like to think so,” Essek said, his fingers curling over the pages of his book. He met Caleb’s gaze and for a moment something passed between them that had Essek tingling all over and--

“Caleb, stop flirting and get back over here!” A gruff female voice called out from over the counter. The human girl in blue glowered over in their direction. Essek watched Caleb’s face turn a delightful shade of pink, unfurling across his skin like the petals of a distant flower. He was so very grateful for the shade of his skin concealing his own embarrassment. 

“I hope to see you here again sometime soon, Herr Essek,” Caleb said as he got up. 

“Just Essek,” he corrected. “And yes...sometime soon for sure.”  

Essek watched Caleb walk off, cradling the warm cup in his hands, and couldn’t help but smile.

#critical role #critical role fanfic #shadowgast #essek theylss #caleb widogast

[fiinalgiirls-aa]

GENERAL INFORMATION.

full name - jospehine harper ryan nicknames - joey, ryan gender / pronouns - she/her date of birth - july 12, 1996 place of birth - prescott, arizona / boot hill, arizona depending on verse citizenship / ethnicity - american / irish, english, scottish, icelandic. religion - atheist socioeconomic status / political affiliation - lower middle class; liberal. marital status - single, though may depend on verse. sexual & romantic orientation - bisexual. education / occupation - waitress. languages - english, some high school french and spanish

FAMILY INFORMATION.

parents - darby ( deceased ) & felicity ryan. siblings - heather, eldest sister ( deceased ); katherine, younger sister; edmund, younger brother. offspring - none pets / other - none. notable extended family - isabelle, niece and gabriel, nephew.

PHYSICAL INFORMATION.

faceclaim - maika monroe hair color / eye color - blonde / brown height / build - 5′6″ / slender tattoos / piercings - earlobes x 2. a few cartliage piercings. tattoo of ‘the moon’ tarot card on her left forearm. ‘x’ on her right middle finger. distinguishable features - big brown eyes, wild blonde hair

MEDICAL INFORMATION.

medical history - anxiety. known allergies - none. visual impairment / hearing impairment - none. nicotine use / drug use / alcohol use - very rarely will she smoke a cigarette or use drugs. drinks socially.

PERSONALITY.

traits - ( + ) amiable, stalwart, imaginative ; ( - ) melancholy, reserved, petulant tropes - small town boredom, desperately looking for a place in life, mommy issues, relative button, perky goth, cool aunt temperament - phlegmatic alignment - lawful good celtic tree zodiac - holly, the ruler mbti - infp hogwarts house - hufflepuff vice / virtue - envy / diligence likes / dislikes - fairy lights over a dark tapestry, old victorian houses, cats, a new pair of tights with no snags in them, a soft knit sweater, lavender lemonade, almond cookies, the sound of fallen leaves crunching underfoot /  people who dislike children, drunk drivers, the after-church sunday rush at her restaurant, ants, boys who are music elitists. quote - “she tastes like nectar and salt. nectar and salt and apples. pollen and stars and hinges. she tastes like fairy tales. swan maiden at midnight. cream on the tip of a fox’s tongue. she tastes like hope.”

FAVORITES.

food - bacon cheeseburger, and sweet potato fries. no mayo. drink - strawberry milkshake pizza topping - jalapenos, chicken, and pineapple color - black and pink music - dark synth, black or thrash metal books - we have always lived in the castle, by shirley jackson movies - suspiria, night of the living dead, uncle buck curse word - bullshit scents - peony, pumpkin, rain

BIOGRAPHY.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: disappearance of a family member, depression, death, car accident. DISCLAIMER: this biography was written for the group rp southouboundhq, but is mostly applicable to all verses.

josphine ryan is born the second of four to darby and felicity ryan on the hottest day in july. like her elder sister, she doesn’t have hardly more than a pale, peach fuzz or a gentle platinum swoop atop her head until the age of three. unlike her sister, joey hardly cries–even as a newborn–and never without reason. when heather learned to speak, she tried out every word, every syllable on her tongue–an intrepid speaker. joey takes her time and uses words deliberately, going from nothing to full sentences. the two girls are five years apart, but heather has been practicing this with her baby dolls for years. far apart in age, there are no closer sisters in villas adobes. as she grows older, joey thinks that, surely, there are no closer sisters in the world. it doesn’t change when the twins, katherine and edmund are born another four years later.

three girls and a boy, the ryan household is a bustling one. the kids all look after one another, getting along as well as parents can hope. heather and joey; katie and edmund. it’s just like that. it’s always like that. darby is a prestigious lawyer and they kids grow up hearing the tales of his life as a district attorney in seattle. one night, when the twins are asleep, heather asks him why he left seattle–why he left the job he loved so much. darby ryan racks his brain. he can’t remember. no matter how many times he’s asked the question, he can never remember.

one day, near the end of september, darby ryan walked out into the desert. he walked out into the desert and it was the most normal thing of all. he walked straight down silver mine road and felicity says that even one of the dominellis, or someone else over there near the funeral home, saw him walking down there and tried to wave and say hello, but he wouldn’t give them the time of day–didn’t even look them in their eyes. the cicadas sang their symphony to the desert night while darby ryan walked straight down that road , normal as can be, and he never came back.

the impact of grief affects her mother profoundly–how can you put a wandering spirit to rest?–but between the five of them, they make do. heather and joey, as the eldest girls, make sure the younger ones are looked after while felicity works two jobs. even after heather is on her own and starting her own family, she makes sure her siblings are taken care of. she fixes the lunches for the younger ones and trades out babysitting shifts with joey when she needs some solitude for homework or a trip to drive-in with margie and the girls.

joey is nearly seventeen when heather and her boyfriend die in the wreck that leaves joey with a broken arm and a small laceration to her forehead. hit by a drunk driver, joey’s niece and nephew are orphaned in one tragic accident. if her mother had been distant following her father’s disappearance, she is beside herself over the loss of her eldest daughter. within a year, felicity has lost both her job as a dental hygienist at old main street and as a waitress at the turquoise star diner. she rarely leaves her bed, let alone the house except to scrounge up enough cash for a trip to the liquor store. everything falls on the narrow shoulders of the eldest remaining daughter. still a girl herself, joey is hardly eligible for custody of her siblings and heather’s kids. on top of raising four kids, she makes efforts to maintain her mother’s image–only absent in public out of dedication to being a stay-at-home mother. the social security payments aren’t enough and joey starts working through high school. still a girl herself, she watches her sister and her dreams die in that same year.

she would’ve been a writer. some clever girl who’d spin words onto paper like she wraps blonde curls around her finger. outside this wretched place–a true boot hill, her family plot–she would have found adventures and peculiarities worth writing about. in boot hill, joey ryan finds only tedium and loss; boredom and death. history loves repeating itself like a chorus, or the nightly siren song of the cicadas, and the high school grad takes a waiting job at the same diner her mother was let go from. it paralyzes joey from making new connections; she tears up every phone number written on the back of some credit card receipt left on the table of the diner’s booths. she’s already raising four kids and her mom, most days, as well. she can’t afford a dream or a family of her own.

with the twins now in their senior year of high school, joey knows that they will move on–searching for their own lives, moving out to rent an apartment with a best friend, a lover. there are heather’s kids, seven and nine, and her mother that need looking after, and yet she feels more freedom now than she has had in the last six years. maybe someday she can get out of this place–even if it means leaving her loved ones behind. maybe someday she’ll walk out onto silver mine road, normal as can be, while the cicadas sing. she’ll walk right down that road like it’s the most normal thing in the world. she’ll pass right by a dominelli or maybe a close friend without a word or even a polite nod. maybe she’ll finally hear the cries of the amen shrieker. maybe she’ll hear nothing at all.

#joey bio #someday i'll get all of these posted

[magaprima]

Part 1 Episode 6 Thoughts (Part 1/3)

“Can I get you something? Some...yummy almond cookies?”

This is Lilith repeating the exact same thing Mary said to her when she took her in after finding her on the road. It’s an enjoyable parallel for many reasons, not least of which because Gomez manages to make it a wee bit cringey. You feel the awkwardness of Lilith trying to mimic Mary and we feel she can’t do it, she just can’t put across the same warm sincerity as the school teacher, no matter how she tries to copy her. (But, of course, she’s not copying her because both are played by Gomez, so brave for the acting there). But the point is that we see an almost child-like quality to Lilith here as she seems to hope simply play acting as Mary will be enough to placate Sabrina.

When it doesn’t work, she moves onto Tactic 2, which is appearing to be honest. Telling her that’s she a witch, and saying it with a softness, a gentle tone of voice that implies ‘we are the same and we must support one another’. As she says ‘I believe you’ve know for a while’, this is a subtle compliment to Sabrina, again trying to win her over, but also it’s trying to convince the girl that this is not new information, that really she’s always known Ms Wardwell was a witch, hasn’t she? Saying she’s a witch trying to look out for her from afar is the easiest and most obvious lie to go for that it’s no wonder Lilith is using it, but it also shows she doesn’t naturally go for the complicated option, she tries to keep it as simple as possible, which is what good liars and manipulators do; they embellish as little as they possibly can.

“I used a....scrying spell”

She looks so incredibly awkward when she is forced to admit how she saw Batibat, because this is the one part she can’t make a lie about, only the truth will work, and so she quickly adds in a rush ‘that’s how I knew you were at the mercy of the Batibat’ in order to defend her action and to hope that talking about the good it brought would make the fact she spied at all be conveniently forgotten.

Yet, Sabrina isn’t forgetting anything and she just full on attacks with ‘You’ve been spying on me?’. Lilith goes to speak, but Sabrina speaks over her, continuing to rant her complaints, and we see that flicker of impatience and annoyance on Lilith as if to say ‘This girl won’t even let me get my lies out, ffs’. She’s silently glaring at Sabrina continuously as the teenager continues to go on  and only when she says about going to the High Priest does Lilith realise she has to do more, that she has to move onto Tactic 3.

It’s possible she had this plan already vaguely formed, as Lilith does seem to constantly have multiple tricks up her sleeve to cover everything, but it’s only in this moment that she forms the plan properly. There is a silent pause while she quickly recalculates before she finally says ‘it was Edward who asked me to look after you’. It’s followed by her blinking all innocently, head bowed apologetically; she has flipped from the ‘I am the wise witch watching over you’ to ‘I am the apologetic, unassuming friend of your Father, please don’t be upset with me’ in just a few seconds, she has totally changed her demeanour and tactic, and it proves that Sabrina has forced her to change her story.

Yet, where Lilith always struggles is being sincere when she doesn’t feel sincere, and she never feels less sincere then when she has to pretend to be weak and unassuming as that just isn’t in her. So as she claims ‘I was his acolyte...a student then’, her eyes a shifty, her voice is all deliberately girly. If you were looking for a liar, you’d spot her a mile off, but it seems the mention of Edward works to make Sabrina a little blind to the clues (we do see in other episodes that talk of her Father can make Sabrina a little single-minded).

When they sit back down once more, their positions have literally changed, they’re on opposite sides of the shot now, in the reverse seating arrangement to before, showing that while Sabrina was controlling the conversation a moment ago, now Lilith has taken that control back. She has been clever to use the ‘I loved a mortal thing, because not only does it give her a believable reason for having sought out Edward, but it shows Sabrina that she’s ‘pro-mortal’ and always makes her appear vulnerable, a victim, someone who has also been judged by the Church of Darkness, someone to be understood and pitied and, therefore, trusted.

“There I was, a witch without a coven, with no one to understand my plight, no one except....” “My Father”

The word plight is all about making Sabrina see her as a victim, someone who has struggled as Sabrina is struggling, someone she needs to ally herself with, a fellow witch who knows the struggle of balancing mortal and witch worlds together. Sabrina finishing the sentence shows she is leaning towards it all, towards Lilith, slightly even now. So, she continues to play up ‘witches and mortals could marry without stigma’ in order to further cement that potential bond, showing not only did she know Edward, but she supported him marrying Diana. Lilith is doing everything possible to say ‘look, Sabrina, you and I are the same, we know each other’s struggles, look how supportive and similar I am’.

However, Sabrina cuts into her refrain with the ‘But then they died. Their plane crashed’ and as Lilith returns to her seat after her melodramatic monologue (she does love her monologues), you see that flash in her eyes that says ‘Yes, I know, I’m getting to that, you little half-breed’. There’s so much tension here. Lilith is working her butt off to maintain her cover and she doesn’t find Sabrina to be making it any easier for her. But, despite Sabrina not liking it, she does believe it and begins ‘connecting the dots’ saying how Ms Wardwell had been encouraging her about leaving school, because she knew what was really going on. Lilith’s little squint and nod alongside her ‘yes precisely’ is very much a vibe of ‘Yes, finally, you’re buying it. Yes, that you said. What it looks like is totally what it is, yep’.

Lilith does actually seem to find it physically difficult to say that she is an ‘omnipresent circle of protection’, because that is so obviously the last thing she wants to be to Sabrina right now. The words are actually getting stuck in her mouth they feel so untrue and unnatural to her. When Sabina asks why (not making it easy again, haha), Lilith’s hesitation before she answers makes me believe her ‘I had fallen in love with him’ is a lie she made up entirely on the spot. It’s the most random way to explain why she would do these things for Edward, but it’s also the quickest and easiest and I established above that Lilith always chooses the simpler lie. She was only prepared so much for this meeting and Sabrina has been throwing her constant curve balls and awkward questions, challenging her, that you can literally feel how much Lilith is thinking on her feet.

And yet it’s comical how mortally offended she looks when Sabrina pulls away and accuses her of manipulating her. It’s like ‘Oh! The very idea! How can you say such wild allegations when manipulation is literally all I’ve been doing since I got here’. And she keeps up that manipulation, her cover, as Sabrina orders ‘from now on, stay away from me’. She simply nods silently, looking apologetic, upset, remorseful, worried....yet the very second Sabrina is gone, her face immediately falls into an expression of annoyance and exhaustion. She literally ‘pffts’ with the tiredness of it all, because this has been so much improv in such a short amount of time, that Lilith has been basically tap dancing like crazy out there and it still didn’t win Sabrina over entirely. It did, however, keep her cover and prevent Sabrina from going to the High Priest, so it’s definitely a ‘close one’ vibe. And she knows there’s more work to do. Which is why in the next few scenes she basically stalks Sabrina in her determination to gain her trust. She gets her at school, at the mines, at home....

#headcanons #episode stuff

[noonachronicles]

Appa

Kim Jun-myeon/ Suho X Reader

Word Count  - 2.6k

Genre - Fluff , Family!AU

Warnings - None

A/N - This was originally a request for @noona-clock and I decided to save it as a part 2 birthday surprise for B! Okay… but honestly, I am so sorry? I feel like it’s not usually what people expect when they ask for Family/Father!Idol fluff but I don’t know what happened. I got really carried away thinking about Suho taking care of his kid and then it turned into this… Enjoy!? I hope!

One and a half years. One and a half years of late nights and no sleep. One and half years of breastfeeding and inconvenient pump and dumps in the seriously small bathroom stalls at work. One and a half years of diaper changes and cleaning up puke…and your son decided that his first word was going to be appa.

Not to be mistaken, you were thrilled that your little one was growing and that you’d reached a huge milestone in his life. That could not be denied. That undeniable joy you felt just happened to be a little bittersweet.

“Did you hear that?” Junmyeon asked every time your chubby cheeked little man would sputter out the word. Which was often, as if the boy refused to learn any other word.

“Yep, I heard.” You’d smile through the tiniest heartache.

It was worth it, as much as you hated to admit, to see the unrelenting smile that had spread across Junmyeon’s face and would not be replaced. He worked hard for the two of you. Exhausting hours, weeks away from his family at a time. Somehow, after all that, he’d come home and hear that one little word and his whole face would light up. His gorgeous almond eyes disappearing into crescent moons with every single, appa, that passed your sons lips.

Hurriedly you grabbed your overnight bag and your purse. Junmyeon stood just out of your path, your son sitting on his hip watching you curiously as you burned a trail into the hardwood floor.

“You’re sure you’re going to be okay?” You asked again.

“I’m positive. It’s barely two days.” Junmyeon said, but your mind was already elsewhere.

Listing off the things you needed to bring and needed done in your head and on your fingers. “Okay. I left the phone number of the hotel I’m at on the fridge. I used the magnet with the doctors phone number on it, which you should have in your phone, but just in case. All you have to do is drop him off at the daycare this morning. My sister will pick him up and meet you back here with him and then you just do the same thing tomorrow morning. I’ll be home super early the morning after, but I should be fine to take him to daycare, I’ll probably just sleep on the plane. There’s milk in the fridge for today and in the freezer for tomorrow, just pull out the bottles from the freezer before bed tonight so it’s ready to go by the morning. I think that’s everything.”

“I’ll be fine. He’s my son too, you know. I know you do most of it but I remember how to parent.” He chuckled.

You took a deep breath and nodded, “I know, it’s just… I’ve never, this is my first time away from him since he was born. You’ve left plenty for work, but I’ve never not kissed him goodnight.”

“Are you gonna cry?” Junmyeon grinned.

“No!” You pouted and kicked him lightly on the shin. “Don’t be mean.”

“I love you.” He smiled once more and leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips. Your son leaned in pressed a sloppy wet one on your cheek.

“I love you too.” You smiled, throwing your bag strap over your shoulder, “Be good boys. No parties.”

“Daemyeon, please tell your mother to get out of here already.” Junmyeon laughed. “She’s stalling.”

“Appa!” The little boy smiled cheerfully.

“No!” You leaned in kissing his big soft cheeks. “Say eomma. Mama. Mommy. Mom…”

“Buh buh! Appa!” He said happily waving goodbye, fingers glistening with spit since he’d been sucking on his hand.

“Bye bye.” You sighed happily and pressed one last kiss against his rosy cheek. “I’ll miss you, my favorite guy in the whole world.”

“Ahem.” Junmyeon raised an eyebrow. You gave him a quick wink and a kiss and were on your way.

Once you were gone Junmyeon had to rush to get ready. He had to record a voice over for a commercial, and meet the rest of EXO to practice the special choreography for an award show performance they’d been preparing for. He had no time to waste. He also had no idea how hard doing everything was with a twenty-five pound baby on your hip.

“Mr. Kim…” the daycare attendant sighed once more, “He usually cries when your wife drops him off. He’ll stop once you’re out of view. I promise.”

It had been twenty minutes. Every time he put Daemyeon down the little boy would look up at him, big brown eyes brimming with alligator tears, and lip trembling. Every time Junmyeon turned his back, thinking he could do it, he would hear that one sweet word that your son had perfected. He couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t leave your weepy baby calling out his moniker.

“I’ll just take him today.” Junmyeon said looking down at his watch, he was already late, “He’s been feeling a little under the weather anyway. I’ll just take him today and we’ll try again tomorrow.”

“If you’re sure, Mr. Kim.” the attendant said with a small grin, there was always something adorable about a new parent.

Running late was not something Junmyeon liked to do and he had found that once he was late for one thing it had become a domino affect leaving him late for everything else as well. He didn’t have a choice though, after deciding to keep your son with him, he had to go back home and pack a baby bag for the rest of the day. This only made him more late in doing the voiceover for the commercial.

Luckily at that point it was still early and Dae sat quite happily with his toys in the floor while Junmyeon completed his recordings. He was not as lucky when it came to the dance practice.

It was early afternoon at that point and Dae should have been an hour into his nap. Attention from his many uncles kept him entertained at first but when it was time to get to work and he had to sit alone, he was not having it. He teeter tottered across the dance floor crying for his appa, causing pile ups as the guys all tried to avoid kicking or hitting him accidentally.

Junmyeon even tried holding him as he danced to at least get the footwork mastered. It didn’t last long at all since the dance was exhausting enough without a twenty-five pound weight.

After a half an hour he collapsed on the hardwood covered in sweat and more out of breath than he had been in years.

“Hyung…” Kai said sitting down next to Junmyeon with a sigh, Dae happily crawled from his father’s lap to his uncles. “Maybe you don’t have to stay. You can come back tomorrow and put in one hundred percent.”

“There’s no way. I can’t, the performance is this weekend that’s not enough time for me. I’m not a dancer like you are.”

“Hyumph…”

Junmyeon looked over to see Dae with one hand in Kai’s mouth and the other pulling his poor uncles top lip up to his nose. Laughing lightly he grabbed his son and nodded, “maybe you’re right.”

The sun had barely gone down and Junmyeon was more than ready for bed. He shared a shower with the boy, and had ended up using baby shampoo instead of regular shampoo on himself and just conditioner on Dae. But your son did have a fun time making bubbles in his father’s hair and giggling maniacally as it dripped down his forehead and into his eyes.

He had almost fallen asleep, trying to read a book he’d been working on for months when he finally got your call.

“Hey yeobo…” you yawned over the line.

“Hey, everything alright? Not thinking you should come home early are you?” Junmyeon laughed lightly half wishing that you would tell him you were at the airport already.

“Oh, no. I’ve been learning so much. It’s easier than I thought leaving little man behind. I actually took a nap today between classes, can you imagine? Ended up not actually going to the second lecture. Um, speaking of not going places…” you paused, “I got a call from the daycare. The teacher said that you told her Dae was feeling sick? Did you call the doctor? Was it a fever? How’s his poop been today?”

“No, he’s fine…” he looked over at the infant stretched out on your side of the bed, passed out, completely milk drunk with his empty bottle in his hand. “His cheeks were just pink and his nose was runny. I think he’s fine. Today worked out so I’ll drop him off tomorrow like I was supposed to.”

“Okay, well,” you sighed, “I had fun today but, honestly, I miss you. It’s lonely being away from the two of you.”

“Now you know how I feel when I’m away.” He smirked, closing the book on his lap.

“Yeah, I guess so. I’m sorry I never really thought about it that way. I just always assumed you and the guys were up to no good and you’d forget all about us.”

“You’re my best friend, nothing is as fun without you.” He said softly trying to keep himself together. “I could be in the middle of a show, surrounded by a thousand people, and still feel alone because you’re not by my side.”

You let out a long sigh, blinking away tears, “I have to go to bed. Early class in the morning. Give Dae kisses for me, okay? I love you, Junmyeon.”

“I love you too. Dream of me.” Clicking off his phone he sank down into the pillows, his heart racing.

After so many years it blew his mind how you still made him feel like he did when he was a teenager who was just starting to talk to girls. Rolling over he lightly ran his fingers over the silky soft curls that covered Daemyeon’s head.

“Your momma is something else.” He said quietly, taking in the serenity of a sleeping baby before letting himself fall asleep as well.

The next morning was a mess. Junmyeon had forgotten to take the milk out from the freezer. He quickly realized this because your son happened to be a little monster when he was hungry.

“Just like your mother.” He murmured putting the milk bottle in a saucepan with water, hoping it would thaw quickly.

Unable to handle the crying for too long he offered the boy a cookie to suck on while the milk was warming. Having seen you multitask plenty of times he attempted to do the same. Sitting Dae on the mat in the living room and running to get ready. He checked himself out in the full length mirror . A casual pair of jeans, a T-shirt and a sweater, all he needed was dab of cologne and he was ready for the day.

“Oh, no.” He sighed waking back into the living room.

Dae had made a paste out of the cookie and his own spit, and had used that to decorate the television. And to ensure that none of the remotes would ever be usable again. At least, he thought, the crying had stopped.

He sprinted into the kitchen where the water in the sauce pan was boiling over. The milk clearly too hot for your sons mouth. Junmyeon cursed and looked up at the clock where he was running late once more. He bagged the too hot milk and picked up your already sticky, messy son and took off to the daycare.

Despite his frustrations from the mornings events and the lessons he thought he’d learned the day before…he still couldn’t do it. He couldn’t leave Daemyeon screaming and crying with a complete stranger. Not when he so pathetically cried for his appa.

“Just… I’ll take him.” He said picking him up from the multicolored mat.

“Mr. Kim, are you sure?” The attendant ask once more. Junmyeon looking a lot more exhausted than he had the day before.

He nodded. “His mom is back tomorrow, she’ll drop him off.”

“Okay, have a good afternoon, sir.”

Back in his car seat Dae giggled and blew spit bubbles as Junmyeon drove to the studio, making one more stop on the way there.

“The prince has returned!” Baekhyun cheered happily as Daemyeon weeble wobbled into the dance room dragging his baby bag and stuffed monkey.

“Sorry guys, but I have a plan!” Junmyeon said quickly noticing several concerned glances. “So nobody worry.”

The morning and afternoon was exhausting, but using the baby carrier to carry Dae around on his back was Junmyeon’s most genius idea yet. The other guys even had fun taking turns with the kid strapped to their fronts or backs. Challenging each other to see who could complete the dance the best or who could complete the dance the most with the extra baby weight.

After they took a break for lunch which included Chanyeol and Xiumin stealing applesauce pouches from the baby bag, and Dae refusing to leave Jongdae’s lap while he ate, your son was more than burnt out. He had completely crashed in the corner on his blanket with his pastel blue monkey under his head. Junmyeon felt proud of himself, like a successful father. He could do it all and he couldn’t wait to tell you.

Still pumped about his successful afternoon of parenting he went home to accomplish even more. He put down Dae for his afternoon nap and cleaned the remotes and the television until they looked brand new. He did a load of laundry, and even cooked dinner for himself. He was surprised when the front door opened after he had put Dae down to sleep for the night after bath time.

“Did I miss him?” You asked dropping your bags on the couch.

Junmyeon nodded, “Sorry, baby. You’re home so early.”

“The daycare said he didn’t stay again. And you weren’t answering your phone so I panicked and I took the first flight I could get home.” You admitted as he wrapped his arms around you.

“That’s why you didn’t answer when I returned your call.” He grinned.

“What happened? Is he okay? Is he still sick?”

Junmyeon blushed, “He was never sick. I just… couldn’t leave him. He kept crying for me, appa appaaaa.”

“Kim Junmyeon… you did not fall for the alligator tears.” You tried so hard to keep from giggling but were so incredibly unsuccessful.

“It wasn’t just the tears! He was calling to me, it was heartbreaking!” He pouted.

“My poor baby.” You laughed pulling his hips closer, “Two whole days with our little monster, you must be so tired.”

“I am so tired. I did a lot. I danced with him on my back, it was the world’s hardest workout.” He said pressing his lips against your neck as the two of you somehow started making your way down the hall.

“You what?” You asked incredulously as the pair of you hit the bedroom.

“Yeah, I used one of those baby carriers.”

“Junmyeon…that’s… incredibly sexy.”

He raised his eyebrows, “oh really?”

“Incredibly.” You nodded, pushing him onto the bed and crawling on top of him. He moaned beneath you as you ran your hands through his hair. Pulling back you looked at him curiously, “Junmyeon… why do you smell like baby shampoo?”

Junmyeon was finally able to leave for work right on time the next morning. Dae sitting content on your hip as he kissed you goodbye. No tears, just a cheerful little, “buh buh appa.”

“Is he staying today?” The nursery attendant asked as you went to drop him off.

“Yes. Absolutely.” You smiled and pressed a dozen kisses into his soft curls before handing him over.

He started to cry, like he normally did, as you signed the paperwork. His lip was trembling as you waved goodbye and blew kisses his way, promising to be back soon. Then, with your hand on the door handle you heard it.

“Ahmamaaaaa…Mama.” He whimpered.

And you turned to the attendant, heart exploding in your chest, and said “Actually… maybe we’ll try again tomorrow.”

#kpopwritingnet #suho scenario #exo scenario #kpop scenario #suho fluff #junmyeon scenario #Junmyeon fluff #Happy Birthday Admin B!

[fiinalgiirls]

GENERAL INFORMATION.

full name - jospehine harper ryan nicknames - joey, ryan gender / pronouns - she/her date of birth - july 12, 1996 place of birth - prescott, arizona / boot hill, arizona depending on verse citizenship / ethnicity - american / irish, english, scottish, icelandic. religion - atheist socioeconomic status / political affiliation - lower middle class; liberal. marital status - single, though may depend on verse. sexual & romantic orientation - bisexual. education / occupation - waitress. languages - english, some high school french and spanish

FAMILY INFORMATION.

parents - darby ( deceased ) & felicity ryan. siblings - heather, eldest sister ( deceased ); katherine, younger sister; edmund, younger brother. offspring - none pets / other - none. notable extended family - isabelle, niece and gabriel, nephew.

PHYSICAL INFORMATION.

faceclaim - maika monroe hair color / eye color - blonde / brown height / build - 5′6″ / slender tattoos / piercings - earlobes x 2. a few cartliage piercings. tattoo of ‘the moon’ tarot card on her left forearm. ‘x’ on her right middle finger. distinguishable features - big brown eyes, wild blonde hair

MEDICAL INFORMATION.

medical history - anxiety. known allergies - none. visual impairment / hearing impairment - none. nicotine use / drug use / alcohol use - very rarely will she smoke a cigarette or use drugs. drinks socially.

PERSONALITY.

traits - amiable, stalwart, imaginative ; melancholy, reserved, petulant tropes - small town boredom, desperately looking for a place in life, mommy issues, relative button, perky goth, cool aunt temperament - phlegmatic alignment - lawful good celtic tree zodiac - holly, the ruler mbti - infp hogwarts house - hufflepuff vice / virtue - envy / diligence likes / dislikes - fairy lights over a dark tapestry, old victorian houses, cats, a new pair of tights with no snags in them, a soft knit sweater, lavender lemonade, almond cookies, the sound of fallen leaves crunching underfoot /  people who dislike children, drunk drivers, the after-church sunday rush at her restaurant, ants, boys who are music elitists. quote - “she tastes like nectar and salt. nectar and salt and apples. pollen and stars and hinges. she tastes like fairy tales. swan maiden at midnight. cream on the tip of a fox’s tongue. she tastes like hope.”

FAVORITES.

food - bacon cheeseburger, and sweet potato fries. no mayo. drink - strawberry milkshake pizza topping - jalapenos, chicken, and pineapple color - black and pink music - dark synth, black or thrash metal books - we have always lived in the castle, by shirley jackson movies - suspiria, night of the living dead, uncle buck curse word - bullshit scents - peony, pumpkin, rain

BIOGRAPHY,

trigger warnings: disappearance of a family member, depression, death, car accident

josphine ryan is born the second of four to darby and felicity ryan on the hottest day in july. like her elder sister, she doesn’t have hardly more than a pale, peach fuzz or a gentle platinum swoop atop her head until the age of three. unlike her sister, joey hardly cries–even as a newborn–and never without reason. when heather learned to speak, she tried out every word, every syllable on her tongue–an intrepid speaker. joey takes her time and uses words deliberately, going from nothing to full sentences. the two girls are five years apart, but heather has been practicing this with her baby dolls for years. far apart in age, there are no closer sisters in villas adobes. as she grows older, joey thinks that, surely, there are no closer sisters in the world. it doesn’t change when the twins, katherine and edmund are born another four years later.

three girls and a boy, the ryan household is a bustling one. the kids all look after one another, getting along as well as parents can hope. heather and joey; katie and edmund. it’s just like that. it’s always like that. darby is a prestigious lawyer and they kids grow up hearing the tales of his life as a district attorney in seattle. one night, when the twins are asleep, heather asks him why he left seattle–why he left the job he loved so much. darby ryan racks his brain. he can’t remember. no matter how many times he’s asked the question, he can never remember.

one day, near the end of september, darby ryan walked out into the desert. he walked out into the desert and it was the most normal thing of all. he walked straight down silver mine road and felicity says that even one of the dominellis, or someone else over there near the funeral home, saw him walking down there and tried to wave and say hello, but he wouldn’t give them the time of day–didn’t even look them in their eyes. the cicadas sang their symphony to the desert night while darby ryan walked straight down that road , normal as can be, and he never came back.

the impact of grief affects her mother profoundly–how can you put a wandering spirit to rest?–but between the five of them, they make do. heather and joey, as the eldest girls, make sure the younger ones are looked after while felicity works two jobs. even after heather is on her own and starting her own family, she makes sure her siblings are taken care of. she fixes the lunches for the younger ones and trades out babysitting shifts with joey when she needs some solitude for homework or a trip to drive-in with margie and the girls.

joey is nearly seventeen when heather and her boyfriend die in the wreck that leaves joey with a broken arm and a small laceration to her forehead. hit by a drunk driver, joey’s niece and nephew are orphaned in one tragic accident. if her mother had been distant following her father’s disappearance, she is beside herself over the loss of her eldest daughter. within a year, felicity has lost both her job as a dental hygienist at old main street and as a waitress at the turquoise star diner. she rarely leaves her bed, let alone the house except to scrounge up enough cash for a trip to the liquor store. everything falls on the narrow shoulders of the eldest remaining daughter. still a girl herself, joey is hardly eligible for custody of her siblings and heather’s kids. on top of raising four kids, she makes efforts to maintain her mother’s image–only absent in public out of dedication to being a stay-at-home mother. the social security payments aren’t enough and joey starts working through high school. still a girl herself, she watches her sister and her dreams die in that same year.

she would’ve been a writer. some clever girl who’d spin words onto paper like she wraps blonde curls around her finger. outside this wretched place–a true boot hill, her family plot–she would have found adventures and peculiarities worth writing about. in boot hill, joey ryan finds only tedium and loss; boredom and death. history loves repeating itself like a chorus, or the nightly siren song of the cicadas, and the high school grad takes a waiting job at the same diner her mother was let go from. it paralyzes joey from making new connections; she tears up every phone number written on the back of some credit card receipt left on the table of the diner’s booths. she’s already raising four kids and her mom, most days, as well. she can’t afford a dream or a family of her own.

with the twins now in their senior year of high school, joey knows that they will move on–searching for their own lives, moving out to rent an apartment with a best friend, a lover. there are heather’s kids, seven and nine, and her mother that need looking after, and yet she feels more freedom now than she has had in the last six years. maybe someday she can get out of this place–even if it means leaving her loved ones behind. maybe someday she’ll walk out onto silver mine road, normal as can be, while the cicadas sing. she’ll walk right down that road like it’s the most normal thing in the world. she’ll pass right by a dominelli or maybe a close friend without a word or even a polite nod. maybe she’ll finally hear the cries of the amen shrieker. maybe she’ll hear nothing at all.

#joey. #♡ ━━━ VISAGE ჻ josephine ryan. #♡ ━━━ CHARACTER STUDY ჻ josephine ryan. #♡ ━━━ AESTHETIC ჻ josephine ryan. #♡ ━━━ SOUNDTRACK ჻ josephine ryan. #♡ ━━━ THREADS ჻ josephine ryan. #♡ ━━━ CONNECTIONS ჻ josephine ryan. #♡ ━━━ WANTED ჻ josephine ryan. #♡ ━━━ RESOURCES ჻ josephine ryan. #♡ ━━━ WARDROBE ჻ josephine ryan.

[nessiemccormick]

All nosy asks please

This one is reaaally long so Im putting it under a read more (that hopefully works on mobile ;;;)

THANK YOUU!!! Oh my god hERE I GO

0:Height1.57m aaand in ft I think it’s 5,41: Age25 :c2: Shoe sizeReally?? I’m a, uhh… 36, and 37 depending of the shoe. I have little feet, don’t make fun of me ;;3: Do you smoke?Nope! My lungs are very weak even for the smoke!4: Do you drink?A little bit! I’m a lightweight tho 5: Do you take drugs?Already answered!6: Age you get mistaken forThis is veeery embarrassing, but I’m always told I’m 16  And when I tell them that no, I’m 25, their faces change!!! It’s hilarious!7: Have tattoos?Answered!8: Want any tattoos?Answered!9: Got any piercings?No ;;;10: Want any piercings?I’ve always wanted one on my belly haha bUuuuut as I said before, I have a crippling fear of needles (and my tummy is not suited for piercings)11: Best friend?I can’t decide ;;;12: Relationship statusSingle, for a long, long time and more time to come13: Biggest turn onsI don’t really feel these ;;; bUT I’m gonna treat it as something I like. Blue eyes, lean figure, blond hair… Klavier Gavin.14: Biggest turn offsDIRTY STUFF. 15: Favorite movieNghhh Kill Bill 1,2,3. YES I LIKE KATANAS AND BADASS GIRLS.16: I’ll love you if…Already answered :(17: Someone you missAh :(18: Most traumatic experienceSomething really really embarrassing happened during my tender years of primary school and it ended up in laughter while I was suffering. That, or when I learned my father actually hit me, and that I had repressed all those memories (I still get them from time to time, it feels awful)19: A fact about your personalityI can say another one! I am very cheerful but when overwhelmed, I go to hide somewhere, asks for some time alone, scream on a pillow, and I’m back to being cheerful!20: What I hate most about myselfEVERYTHING.21: What I love most about myselfI can never say ;;; sorry22: What I want to be when I get olderI’m already older ;;; But I guess I wanna be living my dream; a small house with a lovely garden, lots of canvas to paint and lots of time to draw. And a nice partner! And cats! And chickens!23: My relationship with my sibling(s)It’s really good!24: My relationship with my parent(s)It’s… complicated. Mom is good, dad is… it’s good but sometimes it’s not.25: My idea of a perfect dateAlready answered!! I won’t embarrass myself again!!26: My biggest pet peevesAhh i guess the chewing with an open mouth!!!! And making noise when eating!!!! And leaving the bathroom door open!27: A description of the girl/boy I like… I’d rather not.28: A description of the person I dislike the mostI am his spitting image. But I can’t say I hate him; I don’t really hate anyone, even if they’ve damaged me.29: A reason I’ve lied to a friendAlready answered!30: What I hate the most about work/schoolAlready answered 31: What my last text message says“Oye what what???? What?????”32: What words upset me the mostHate, ok, clavicordio, clavecín33: What words make me feel the best about myselfAlready answered!34: What I find attractive in womenHHHHhhh I… i like that they’re like, so much more delicate than me, like… smooth?? Soft??? I love that! Very cute!!! Very beautiful!! And if a woman is funny, likes listening to me and laughs at my awful jokes, they’re perfect!! I hit the jackpot!! Which will never happen!! Because I don’t think someone like that could have eyes for me!! lol35: What I find attractive in menMen without beards!! I don’t like beards, they’re kind of… yuck to me, I’m sorry! I also like delicate looking men! Kinda like high cheekbones and defined jawline and all that Jazz. I love almond shaped eyes too!! It makes for a very pretty stare, I love it!!And blue eyes make me go weak in the knees  for both!! 36: Where I would like to liveI want to live in a beautiful place, something that’s way more advanced than the town I live in, a place that’s open to changes and new people  and while you guys probably have snow and hate it, I WANT SNOW SO BAD AND A PLACE WITH SNOW SOUNDS PERFECT TO ME!37: One of my insecuritiesMyself. I don’t trust myself, nor my decisions, not my actions. Nothing.38: My childhood career choiceAlready answered  Oh yes, and I also wanted to become a paleontologist.39: My favorite ice cream flavorCHOCOLATE!!!40: Who I wish I could beI’m choosing not to answer this one either.41: Where I want to be right nowIn a faraway country, really far from here, living my dream.42: The last thing I ateCookies!43: Sexiest person that comes to my mind immediatelyIM THINKING KLAVIER BUT THAT’S NOT VALID AND IM ALSO NOT CHOOSING TO ANSWER 44: A random fact about anythingIf you do a small thing for me, no matter what it is, I’ll love you and cherish you forever!OH GOD THESE ARE A LOT!! thank you!!!!! I never expected someone to ask me to answer them all, and I love the distraction :,) It got a little bit too personal at some point, and I’m sorry for that ;;; 

But if you’re still here reading, I wanted to tell you that you’re amazing, and you’re gonna have a beautiful day!!! Because you deserve it!!!

#long post #nessie gets an ask #REALLY LONG #and maybe too personal kshd im sorry #I just... i love talking about myself ;;;;;;; i love asks like these

[trinhhungthin]

Deliver Order Bride-to-be FAQ

That is why all of us decided to commence helping guys from various countries of the world to find the exotic beauties from the East. In addition , its also wise to upload a smiling photo and make it clear that you are family-oriented and have a well balanced and solid job.

The moment Family Members Hesitate To Each Other

All mail order brides are a the latest phenomenon and a lot of people could possibly be unaware of the intricacies involved in this system. Whenever you already know, almost all women manage their families and homes in Korea. But the is actually that the Korean men benefit themselves right from it. According to the statistics, Korean girlfriends or wives do more than 80 percent of the cleaning. Girls and young women see it using their own eyes and so they don’t believe that marriage with a Korean guy is normally something eye-catching.

You should talk to a approved user. It will save you a lot of time and effort. Also, usually do not transfer your personal data and financial data to third parties. It really is something that will certainly not be important for an ordinary girl. These are generally also incompatible moments for such a format of communication.

Remember, Genuine Asian Wedding brides has the greatest women to men ratio in the industry and that we average some engagements daily! All excursions have two American Tour Directors to make certain that you have got the time ever and satisfy the ladies you are interested in! The foreign personnel also converse English and will be eager to help you enjoy your journey. In fact , a lot of men decide to generate a return trip since they possessed these kinds of a good experience the first time.

Local Violence was first seen in the law in the year 700BC. Ancient Aventure at this point declared that once hitched a man had every right to beat his wife for just about any reason and to virtually any degree this individual saw healthy. In those days if a woman was found accountable a crime it will be her spouse who would receive the punishment for it, so this law was used as being a deterrent for you if you to manage to get their husbands in legal hassle. This may have been completely the origin on the phrase “rule of thumb” as the switches used to beat these women weren’t supposed to be fuller than the man’s thumb.

In the promotional rhetoric by relationship agencies and rural open public bodies, the brides were rendered comfortable to the possible husbands, with their racial indicators being either understated or overstated to increase their marriageability. The videos constructed an image of marriages between disadvantaged Asian” women and countryside farmers, and successfully put them outside the framework of homogenised middle-class individuality.

As for matrimony inside the Philippines – ABSOLUTELY NOT! You prefer your wife being to come here with a Fiancée Visa, not a K-1 Significant other Visa. A Fiancée Visa took 8 months total, and by what I listen to it’s continue to about almost 8 months. At the moment we reached, a Significant other Visa can take 2 . 5 various to 3 YEARS! I have certainly not heard everything with that time duration being shortened, so individually I might not take a probability.

Every Cookware girl goal of meeting a strong person who will manage her. Statistics show a minimum percentage of splitting of marriages in many areas of Asia. Which means that your Asian wife is ready to go through all the difficulties mutually and will fully support the relationship.

i actually am online dating a philippino girl and she is precious. but i will state she can be moody of course, if i upset her and it doesn’t take much to do that therefore she will not talk to me for several days. its easy to find a willing philippina girl happy to get to know you but its much easier to lose her than to hold her.

Do ride buses, bicycles, tricycles, motorcycles, trike motorcycles, Jeepney truck taxis, or other tiny vehicles with respect to transportation. When ever possible, use a car taxi with hvac and try to package your day so you can keep using the same car and drivers for the whole day time if you can. They’re glad to have one clients pay them for multiple hours rather than having to discover a lot of Philippine customers who also don’t have much money to go incredibly far.

This Wedding Firm Is Giving Wedding Dresses To Brides Influenced by The Outbreak

Asian brides are extremely well-liked in America and over the Western world. A rare nonetheless growing demographic you will notice in the U. S. will be black women of all ages married to white males, but to me personally they are the many special. For what reason? Because this market reflects my marriage. Allows give homage to the magnificence of all the onyxes with their pearl jewelry, and all the sweet cacao and vanilla cookies sweeten up the world. Yes, everything starts with going out there and dating white-colored men, but it surely can lead to good solid matrimony.

I’ve just a few Korean good friends and I reverence them quite definitely. Korean culture is a very historic culture and Korean folks are one of the nicest and amazing people in the world. However , they’re very different by Offshore. Many Chinese language thought Chinese suppliers has the most ancient civilizations in the world earlier than Sumer and Egypt. The fact is Far east civilization is certainly 2000 years behind these two most ancient civilization. The misunderstanding came from the discovery of very classic archaelogical sites unearthed in China that predated seen the Sumerians and Egyptians. So Chinese people believed they were the earliest many people coming from all. But all those sites unearthed are sites of prehistoric humans (paleolithic time) the moment mankind don’t have virtually any form of way of life at all. Whenever we use this seeing to determine who began the initially culture prior to any other people in the same region, afterward it’ll be very misleading.

Gorgeous Asian girls are usually thin, delicate and petite and therefore are therefore sometimes perceived as almond-eyed sweethearts”. Their particular behavior is generally childishly lovely. And it is accurately this combination of graceful looks and childishly cute action that not a handful of single guys find very attractive, which is the reason they certainly want to get to learn Asian young girls.

In China themed weddings, white is viewed bad luck (the color of death) and reddish colored and dark are good (colors of luck and prosperity). You’ll want to keep that in mind while planning big event and picking your wedding party favors. These Hard anodized cookware themed marriage favors commonly feature smart colors and nature motifs. Some ideas to consider for your Chinese themed wedding happen to be: red and gold place note cards held in a Oriental themed place card holder, take out containers filled with lot of money cookies, lucky bamboo sections, chopsticks, things with the twice happiness identity, brocade besace or box, red tiny lanterns, handheld fans, purple envelopes with lucky coins tucked inside, or Oriental themed mints and sweets are just ideas you could choose for your favors.

We have regarded each other regarding 11 months. We speak every day on Skype and she is ever present for me. We am pretty rough and can smell a seafood a mile apart. No funny business occurring with her (or me personally for that matter). She’s in her early on 40’s and i also am with my early fifties. No kids (it’s ok). Her family is well enough away that we do not have to worry about financial issues (although I would support if needed-they are all hence cool). I am aware at the start she was skeptical like too great to be true-and to me that was a positive – seeing that she would not just “appease” me. We have are the case solid couple. When your sweetheart gets below I will educate her to drive, she could work if your lover wants-I own hotel associations for her. We will join a Filipino group, we both will be Catholic and so she will be described as a new House of worship member and beyond that take this as it comes.

How To Find Ideal Mail Buy Groom

Aren’t find that perfect diamond necklace for you? 5 A homemaker: This criterion sometimes can be difficult to identify and is left to the discretion of the father and mother to the value of their little girl. Other factors that might favor the groom is if he originates from the same ethnic tribe, or perhaps has father and mother known to the grooms family and if the brides to be father wants to waiver the star of the wedding price.

Women often make meals that family can eat for over just one daytime, such as macarona béchamel, levels of dinero with minced beef and a coarse, broth-and-egg-infused béchamel sauce, a great Egyptian home staple similar to Greek pastitsou. It is sometimes made a day in advance and baked the day of serving.

Yet don’t settle back! Asian young girls make choice ones within their lives, for this reason , the process of choosing an just one man – their partner – is very important and scrupulous. In certain Asian countries right now there still be assault in a family members. Man enables beating his wife, barring her undertaking something this girl likes or perhaps making her doing anything she isn’t going to want. Unfortunately, but the case. That’s why Asian singles are looking for a foreigner hoping to get an elementary dignity in a spouse and children life. Every time they make their very own choice, they are at your identity at firs. If you want to create an Cookware woman your wife, make an effort to follow some points they like.

Are looking for one or more foreign cash cows to support her spouse and children without in fact committing to marriage with any of them. She may be using telephone loads that you just bought to talk to other males in other countries and possess them mail her cash too, in order to her far friends. The woman may be applying funds you give her with respect to everyday needs to buy Net time and cellular telephone loads for the purpose of talking to other men, employing your money to acquire new apparel to impress or meet other men, and using your money for partying and going to discos (yes, they have disco fever) with Filipina friends to satisfy Filipino men.

Unlike a number of other mail order brides, that have very diverse features and may fit the required parameters of all kinds of males, Bangladeshi women have a very specific appearance type which has millions of fans around the world. The looks genuinely combine olive skin area and raven black scalp.

Are you new to the concept of -mail order brides or are you skeptical of trying it out thinking it’s not safe to do so? Fear not! We have become here to reply to your questions. It is crucial to realize that Asian Seeing is normally an industry which hasn’t received a global attention it really is deserves. This is the way of selecting your true love who could possibly be thousands of kms away from where you stay. The platform is a good in the part where you can find a bride of your dreams. It is very dependable the instrument as we take data and identity protection of our customers very seriously.

Emotional Southerly Asian Muslim brides are definitely the norm during marriages. Viral videos of brides sobbing and Bollywood depictions only give a glimpse in to the world of conjugal somberness intimately linked with weddings via Bangladesh, Pakistan, India, and the diaspora.

A up to date Chinese star of the wedding knows for certain how to continue her hubby happy as a result values will be instilled in her by simply her mother. One more thing that one could be sure of is the superb food you are going to eat with you female. Chinese females love to http://findmailorderbride.com/asian-brides prepare scrumptious meals with regard to their husbands.

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