It’s Common Knowledge That Bilbo WILL Stab A Bitch

Ok but the 'her thighs are big enough for a cat to perch on comfortably' broke me ;-; thats such an amazing way to describe thighs

What does Sarah look like? You’ve mentioned tidbits, but do you have a full description?

Well, I think she's maybe two years older than Kate which has nothing to do with anything but she teases Kate for being younger and Kate is so close to throwing something at her.

I think she's maybe three inches taller than Kate, a barely noticeable height difference that she enjoys just a little too much. She's a brunette who's just starting to find a few greys but she doesn't care to dye them. She has really dark brown eyes that almost look black in certain lighting. Her shoulders look tanned but if you get close enough then you'll see its just countless freckles that go all down her arms and back. She's got some meat on her bones, if she sits down on the couch then her thighs are big enough for a cat to perch on comfortably. Hips are shoulders are damn near the same width, she's an immovable force whenever she decides to torment Kate by blocking a doorway she's trying to walk through.

She has a good few tattoos, from silly ones like a ghost with a cowboy hat to gorgeous pieces like a cathedral on her thigh. She also has Kate's initials on her wrist, Kate hates it [a lie].

She's generally a pair of jeans and t-shirt person but she can dress up real fucking fancy when the day requires it.

But most days Kate will come home to find her with her hair thrown up in a messy bun, glasses halfway down her nose as she leans on the kitchen counter to sketch something in a vintage Jurassic Park t-shirt and Batman underwear.

Make him eat biscuits and gravy with curry. Make everyone around him scared of the food combo (it would actually go so hard tho) he sounds amazing though!! <3

OC Information: "Bear"

Full Name: Vihaan Suraj Kulkarni

Callsign(s): Bear

Alias(es): Doctor Teddy-Bear, Doctor Gentle, Sunshine Princess

Nationality: First-Generation American (Indian parents)

Affiliations: U.S. Navy, U.S. Fleet Marine Force

Rank: E-7/Chief Hospital Corpsman

Gender: Male

Status: Alive

Birthday: September 28th, 1989 (35 as of 2024)

Build: Burly

Height: 6'7"

Marks: U.S. Navy tattoo on his left shoulder (one swallow representing the 10,000 nautical miles he's traveled on U.S. naval ships), a U.S. Marine tattoo on his right forearm (a complex tattoo of an eagle and a globe with the words "Semper Fi" below it), knife scar going across the bridge of his nose

Hair: Black

Eyes: Brown

Background: Vihaan was born to Indian immigrants and he was born in Charlotte, North Carolina. He grew up as an only child but was very loved by his parents. He enlisted in the U.S. Navy when he was eighteen and switched the Marine Fleet Force soon after discovering he wanted to be a Corpsman. He spent fifteen years in the military.

Extra: He is very much a pacifist unless he needs to defend himself or someone else.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and request something! (SFW requests only at this time, please and thank you.)

bagginshield moments in the hobbit trilogy:

an unexpected journey:

- bilbo was a simp for thorin the second he knocked on his door

- bilbo hearing gandalf and elrond talk about thorin in rivendell and thorin letting him hear

- thorin fully risking his life to save bilbo even tho he thinks he’s a “burden”

- bilbo being so personally hurt by thorin saying what he said, that he decides to leave (dramatic gay™️)

- thorin realizing he actually hurt bilbo and regretting having said anything (guilty gay™️)

- “why did you come back”

- bilbo saying he came back bc he wants to help thorin find a home

- bilbo being the one to intervene in thorin’s fight w azog despite never fighting before and having every excuse to stay on the tree

- he fully jumps an orc???? like twice the size of him???? to save his boyfriend????

- faces AZOG head on bc thorin wasn’t moving

- thorins first question upon waking being about whether bilbo is okay

- trying so hard to be angry at bilbo

- bilbo becoming a burden on thorins HEART rather than his mind

- “i have never been so wrong in all my life. i am sorry i doubted you.”

- the look™️ after the hug

the desolation of smaug:

- thorin and bilbo having the most willpower out of everyone in the group

- constantly joining at each other’s sides

- the look on thorins face when he realizes bilbo isn’t with them anymore

- thorin being the only one to think that bilbo would come for them

- thorin RUNNING to the cell door when bilbo appears

- bilbo looking to thorin when he asks them to trust him

- thorin being the only one who trusts bilbos judgement w the barrels

- “well done, master baggins”

- bilbo vouching for thorins character

- thorin giving him the Look™️ as bilbo speaks on his behalf

- “you have keen eyes, master baggins”

- “thorin, you can’t give up now.”

- thorin coming back as soon as bilbo calls for them

- thorin trying to dehumanize bilbo as much as possible so he “won’t care” as much about his life, being fully incapable of doing so

- bilbos FACE when thorin turns his sword on him

- thorin being able to really easily read bilbo’s expressions, even when he’s blind by greed

- thorin suggesting they all split up and taking bilbo with him

- bilbo not wanting to go with balin, and calling for thorin as he’s pulled away

- bilbo always immediately responding to thorins commands, not hesitating or doubting him for a second

- “keep going bilbo!”

battle of the five armies

- “i’ve tried talking to him, but he won’t listen.”

- the fact that bilbo took to stone because he knew what it would do to thorin, not caring if thorin found out and hated him after because he knew he was helping him

- the way thorin LOOKS at him when he shows him the acorn

- literally the Look™️

- the way bilbo relaxes under That Specific Gaze from thorin

- bilbo being the only one who cares enough to try and reason with thorin

- “you should never underestimate dwarves” ft. the Look™️

- thorin intentionally gives him one of the strongest pieces of armor they have

- “i look absurd,” “it is a gift, a token of our friendship. true friends are hard to come by.”

- never assuming for a SECOND that bilbo would be the one to betray him

- the SYMBOLISM of thorin backing away and them being separated by the other dwarves

- “i’m not afraid of thorin”

- thorins face when he realizes bilbo was the one to betray him

- bilbos voice being the only one thorin hears clearly in his head, the only voice that brings him to sense

- bilbos FACE as he says “thorin” when they finally come to fight

- thorins face when bilbo comes to warn him of the fifth army

- the Look™️

- they exchange one look and bilbo knows that he’s meant to go with thorin

- “i’m glad you’re here”

- “you’re going to live, thorin.”

- bilbo holding his hand

- “plant your tree, watch it grow”

- bilbo begging him to stay alive, whispering to him about the sky and the eagles, desperately saying his name as he dies

- cradling his body

- sobbing next to him

- standing alone at his body during the funeral, unmoving

- trying desperately not to cry, being unable to look at his body

- “i know that’s how you must honor him, but to me he was never that. he was... he was...”

- just nodding, balin knowing exactly what he wants to say but can’t bring himself to

- “who is this person you pledged your loyalty to? thorin oakenshield?”

- the Look™️

- “he... he was my friend.”

- bilbo baggins kept that map, thorins map, the for the rest of his life, for it was all he had left of a lost love

Thinking about vampire!Soap showing up to the den with you—a weak, freshly turned fledgling, clinging to his jacket and hiding behind him.

He gets scolded. Probably punished. They’re not allowed to turn people without express permission from Price to do so, and he’s gone and disobeyed. He couldn’t help himself, he says— saw you wandering the beach alone and knew you needed a forever home. That you’d make a beautiful creature of the night. that his coven would adore you— just look at that face— red tint soaking into your irises, little baby fangs pressing against your bottom lip as you bite it nervously, a few drops of Johnny’s blood still smeared at the corners of your mouth.

By all accounts, they should kill you and start him on some sort of punishment for the next decade. That tends to be how it goes when a vampire tries to undermine the sire of the coven.

But he was right. You are a cute little thing. Already settled onto Nikolai’s lap while they’re deciding if you should live or die. You’re a little too hazy from dying to really follow the conversation in any meaningful way. You’re tired and blood-hungry, your eyelids fluttering as you get bounced on his knee.

Which Price does not appreciate, by the way. This was supposed to be a serious discussion, condemning Soap for his mistake, not coddling it.

My favorite thing about Dracula Daily Tumblr Edition is that we have all gone from "look at our good friend adorable woobie Jonathan Harker discovering spices" to "RIP HIS THROAT OUT, J-HARK, YOU'VE GOT THIS."

do you think adler and graves are too perfectionistic when it comes to their significant other? if they were to struggle about their career etc, would adler or graves leave them?

No, not at all. Dedication to their own jobs doesn't reflect how they'd view a partner.

Adler's view is that if his partner is struggling at work, especially with coworkers? Fuck em, they're beneath you. Want to drink and complain about it? He'll insult the way Leslie wears her hair and massage your shoulders until it becomes moderate groping.

Graves offers to just come into their work and scare the shit out of people until they fall in line and make work easy for them.

König and Domestic Silk Moth Hybrid!Reader

Due to popular demand (about 4 people)

Context: in this one, I’m having König stay human and having hybrids in a pet role. As an insect hybrid, I’m making her small AF (like 2-3 ft tall). I did consider making her Barbie sized tho 👀. So this is gonna have size kink bordering on micro/macro just so you know!

König it stuck on medical leave, and pretty damned miserable. He sustained a break that’s put him out of commission for a while. He’s never spent so long in his empty home, and it’s driving him insane. He’s spent basically his entire adult life married to his work, so he’s woefully unprepared to keep himself entertained.

And despite being something of a loner most times, he misses the noise. He misses the bodies and conversation. He and Horangi have a phone call every so often, and text as frequently as the work allows, but that only takes up so much time in the day.

And it’s Horangi that suggests a hybrid.

That’s something that he could throw himself into to keep occupied, as well as giving company. And unlike a pet, a hybrid would be able to be mostly self sufficient whenever he returned to work.

(Horangi doesn’t want to say if he returns. But König is not a young man, and has sustained a serious injury. There’s a chance that even if he heals, he won’t be the same as before. Combined with his rank, it won’t be huge surprise if he’s pressured or forced into retirement if his utility is limited.)

König is apprehensive— so he doesn’t want something quite as needy as a cat or dog hybrid, where he’d have to deal with heats and noise. And Horangi happens to have an old friend, retired, who raises domestic silk moth hybrids with his newfound free time. You’re picked to be offered up, freshly cut from your thick silk cocoon.

And for König, it’s love at first sight.

You’re very pretty. Fluffy white fur, big, dark, eyes. And so small. You barely come up to his hip, and raise your arms, asking to be lifted. It’s only then that he learns domesticated silk moths are flightless, their wings are pretty but unable to fly. It makes him feel a little bit of kinship with you. Restricted movement, denied purpose.

And basically his life revolves around you from that point. König doesn’t have many involved or expensive hobbies, so he has a lot of time and resources to devote to your care. You’re something of a niche pet, so it’s a little difficult to find things made for you. He resorts to commissions. Don’t fucking look at his Etsy purchase history.

You live your life perched on his shoulders or in his arms (you’re much too small to keep up with him). He’s a little afraid of letting you in his bed at night, he doesn’t want to roll over and crush you by accident, but you keep crawling under his covers anyways. You can’t help having cocooning behavior.

He’s constantly sitting you on ledges. On the sink while he shaves, on the counter when he cooks, on his desk when he works. You’ve always gotta be within arms reach for petting purposes.

And the petting, the kissing… he’s so addicted to the contact. He’s been alone for so long, and you’re so soft.

And that just leads to him getting more and more curious about your body. You don’t mind— you love him! And he loves his little Seidenmotte.

He’s beyond delicate with you. You’re so small— he has to work you up quite a bit before he can even fit a finger into your cute little pussy.

God it makes him hard how he can pin you down by the stomach with just one hand. And you make these little pips and squeaks when he fingers you— it’s just too cute for words. He totally shares some pictures with Horangi as thanks. (Which might lead to a couple of other colorful character asking to see pictures of you).

Usually he fucks your soft, fuzzy thighs to get off. He’s so warm and heavy against your clit, his cockhead practically reaching your chest. He paints your tits with white, pearly ribbons that glisten against the fuzz of your chest.

If you’re on top, he likes watching your useless wings beat while you slide your wet little cunt over him, the ridge of his head making you shiver when it bumps against your clit. You usually end up making yourself cum once or twice, and when you’re too tired and sensitive to move yourself he’ll grab your waist and grind you against him, using you like a toy to get himself off.

You don’t spread your wings often, but when you do, it leaves a little bit of moth dust behind from the tiny scales you shed. König thinks it’s so cute to see it against his bedsheets— it’s like glittery fresh snow, proof of how excited he made you.

Combusting and i dont have a reaction image for that ;-; just \•○•/

Filthy Dog

MMA au -> pro!Soap x PR team!reader

Series CW: 18+ MDNI, possessive behaviour, spitplay, oral oneshot - 2K words - dividers -> @/cafekitsune

“-I'LL HAVE YER’ HEAD ON A STICK!”

You heard him before you saw him- the blur of a man who was truly more bull than human, and the scraping of chairs. Another headache for you. 

You knew this was coming, you knew he wouldn't be happy with this sponsor. You tried to warn them.

“Johnny.” Soap’s manager, Mitch, tried to reason, eyes widening when the fighter’s massive wrapped hands flexed around his freshly-pressed white button down, untucking the bottom from his pants in the process. “-John.” he corrected, coughing awkwardly. When Soap snarled at him, Mitch looked to you with that ‘help clean this mess up’ look.

“No.” Soap bit, jamming a blunt finger into the man’s chest before you could respond to his plea. “This is yer’ problem.”

“We don’t have a problem.” Mitch assured. “Talk to me John, what's up?” 

Soap’s eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring. “Ye’ know damn well. Told you I'd sooner quit than work with Max Energy.”

Mitch’s lips pursed, You were unsure what he expected as the outcome of his greed- probably that he would be able to talk his way out of it. “I don’t remember you saying that." he scoffed. "Come on now, Max is great, don't blow this out of-”

Soap growled in frustration, his fist careening into the folding table beside him; a deadly weapon- a warning shot. 

“Tell me, Mitch- why was I-” he snatched the cloth hanging out the pocket of his sweatpants and pushed it into the wiry man’s chest. “-just handed shorts with Max Energy big and bold ‘cross my fucking bits?” 

he leaned in, jaw tense. “Ah’m a joke to ye’? I’ll quit right here, right now.” 

Mitch called your name like he was summoning a maid and you could only sigh in response. “Soap-” “You say one more word for him and ah’ll knock his fucking teeth in.” he warned, not even turning to look in your direction. Your mouth closed, locked tight. 

“John, you quit and all those paying fans out there waiting for you will make sure you never get another damn title again.” Mitch threatened. “They’re not here for some still wet-behind-the-ears openers. They’re sure as shit not here for Kozlov.” he laughed sardonically. “They’re here for you. Don’t ruin this.” ‘-for me’ he seemed to leave out.

You couldn’t help but wonder if Mitch was doing this on purpose, or if he was just flat out stupid.

A deep, rumbling noise echoed around the depths of Soap’s expansive chest, lips curling back like a dog. “I do this fight- then I’m done, Mitch.” Mitch beamed, seemingly only hearing the confirmation he’d be fighting tonight. “-Not for yer’ sorry ass and not for those Max Energy bastards either. For the fans.” Soap grit out.

You could see the gears inside the manager’s head turning as he processed the financial hit he would inevitably take if his golden boy were to leave. “John-” Mitch practically whined.

 “Not up for debate.” Soap snapped, shooting him a venomous look- and like a tornado on a storm path, he chucked the shorts in the bin and left, dipping back into his locker room.

Mitch sighed, rubbing at his temples before setting his eyes on you.

“Do something. You’re Personal Relations- go relate personally.” Mitch snapped at you as he began digging into the trash to retrieve the shorts.

“Public Relations.” you corrected, earning a frustrated hiss and a dismissive hand wave. 

“Don’t change the subject. Get in there.”

You grimaced. “He’ll kill me!” 

“Don't be dramatic and hurry up, he's on soon.” Mitch urged, shooing you off. You made a sour face, heaving yourself up off the padded bench before Mitch could find something else to complain about. “-Wait.” Mitch ordered, as if he was telling a dog to heel. “-Second thought," he hummed "scratch that, let him be pissed for the fight. It’ll do numbers.”

-

Loathe as you were to admit, Mitch was correct- all three rounds had been polished off like they were light meals. You were next, surely. Your knee bounced anxiously as you awaited the full oncoming force of Soap’s post-cage high. “Fantastic! MacTavish v Kozlov-” Mitch barked out a laugh. “What a joke Kozlov was, does his team think it's amateur hour?” 

“Mitch.” you interrupted, knee falling still. “This isn’t really time for celebrations, you're about to lose your current biggest fighter.” He mowed you down with an eye roll “John just needs time to come to his senses, Max Energy contracts like this are once in a lifetime.”

“He’s not-”

The Locker room door nearly flew off its hinges, a beast coated in sweat and blood emerging. “John!” Mitch grinned with outstretched arms that faltered as the big man stormed straight past him.

God. Good god. He was hurtling towards you. Avert your gaze downwards, you coached yourself, you wouldn’t sit well in the stomach of a dog like him. 

Bare feet stopped before you. “You.” he chuffed out around the rubber guard in his mouth, drawing your gaze upwards. “Let’s go.” You looked around, not fully processing the situation. Mitch regained his composure. “Y-yes! Go talk with John.” he urged, desperately latching on to any inch of leeway Soap would give. “Get the fuck out, Mitch.” Soap barked, voice distorted by the EVA covering his teeth.”’Fore I rip yer’ head clean off.”

“R-right! We’ll talk later.” he laughed out nervously and tucked tail as Soap stared you down through the eyes of a starving street dog; getting the hell out of dodge. He kept his eyes on Soap as he left- a survival instinct not to show your back to a hungry predator.

”I tried to warn them about the Max deal.” you pressed once alone, hoping to avoid an argument. “Ah’know, bonnie.” he hummed lowly, a sweaty, gloved hand coming to graze your cheek. His sudden, loose tenderness came as a shock to your system. “Yer’ not like those vultures- Ye’ don’t see me as an asset.” His empty blue eyes relaxed, pupils dilating as his other hand raised to cradle the other side of your face, both thumbs brushing the corners of your lashlines. “Aye, Yer’ the good one. So patient with a daft bastard like me.” Your eyelids trembled slightly, his gaze zeroing in on the movement. “You want me like I want you?” 

Your eyes darted to your lap, urging Soap to tap at your cheek. “Eyes up- On me.” 

“You give the word and ah’ll treat you better than any man ever could. Ah’ll set ye’ right.” his voice dropped to a low boom. “Yer’ the only good thing ‘round me, have been since the moment we met.” You could still remember why you were hired. Soap was on the come up, but couldn't seem to figure out why getting into random scuffs with strangers over little annoyances was a bad thing. Especially for a man with a body that was essentially a lethal dose of muscle and bulk he had been specially trained in how to throw around. Possible fatal outcomes aside, it wasn't making him a man to root for. Every fight needed tension, but Soap wasn't a man built for pyrrhic victories- he was an underdog, biting and gnashing his way through cage after cage; man after man. He was meant to enjoy his hard-earned glory, and because of your work- MMA fans absolutely adored him. 

Soap huffed out, head tilting. “Y-yeah- yes, okay.” you whispered, trying not to psych yourself out. Your lips creased, head nodding before you could chicken out. 

Pulled into an blurred vortex, it took you an embarrassing amount of time to realize you were hiked over his shoulder as he lumbered towards his private locker room for the fight, locking the door behind him. Setting you gently on the luxurious industrial sink counter was his last mercy as he ripped off his gloves and clawed at your bottoms and underwear, yanking them off your legs. A freshly-bare and clammy hand braced itself under each thigh as he jacked your legs up and over his broad shoulders, a pleased grunt passing his lips. 

He lowered down before cursing and pushing your legs back up against your chest. 

You made a small noise, worried you had somehow fucked something up for him which earned you a growl and a headshake as he grunted and spat his mouthguard onto your tummy, sticky saliva coating your skin as it found its resting place before he dove back in, not caring where the plastic ended up. 

He pressed open-mouthed kisses at the apex of your thighs, sucking and biting at the skin like he was underfed and hungry. You whined as his teeth kept digging into the sensitive flesh, earning satisfied hums from the man in response, stubble not helping your case. You flexed, legs caging in his head which had seemed to guide him towards your waiting cunt.

The noises he emitted as he lapped at your folds made you feel nauseated and lightheaded, a blushing mess.

A shoulder jerked upwards to support your leg so he could explore the messy folds with a newly-unoccupied hand, but didnt pull his mouth back to give himself the space needed to do so; leaving you reeling at the feeling of such a concentrated area of stimulation.

As if sensing your limits, he bullied his way deeper, growling into your pussy in a way that left black spots at the corner of your vision.

Brutish fingers began to dip into the spot they had been searching for and you could feel his body tense and flex as he practically humped into the space beneath the counter, hips desperately chasing contact it wasn't receiving. He cursed against your flesh, mouth covered in drool and slick as he rose upwards, reminding you of a hulking behemoth as you were forced to accommodate the new position. He gazed down with hazy eyes and a glistening jaw as he focused on jamming whatever he could of his finger into your cunt, twitching and thrusting the digit inside you. As if the stretch wasnt enough to satisfy that itch in the back of his skull, he stuffed in his ring finger next to it, pinky and index bracing his hand as he fucked the fingers into you, transfixed. 

You were going to pass out at this rate, his knuckles, malformed from years of improper training and injury- kissed at your inner walls, sending you out of body. 

His lids lowered, pace easing as a thought passed his mind. He paused, stretching open the hole as his throat bobbed a few times. Your head clumsily lolled to the side just in time to watch a fat wad of spit drip from his mouth, directly into your slicked pussy. He smiled, happy with himself and savoring the sight for a moment before continuing his ministrations- slower this time, deeper. He angled his hand, thumb massaging at your clit just to see the way you would react. 

You didn't disappoint him, the sight of you causing his mouth to part, drool still hanging from his chin. “Fuuuck.” he breathed, drawing the word out. "-What a sight ye' are." His eyes darted back to your cunt, thick brows quirking as he experimentally ground his thumb deeper into your nub, urging a cry to push its way out of your lungs. His teeth glinted as he huffed out a small laugh. “Yer’ being so good to me too, huh?” he rumbled happily, eyes coasting along your stretched folds and it took you a moment to realize he wasn't talking to you. He pulled his fingers out slowly, scooping the mixed fluids up and popping them into his mouth. “Mmh-” he groaned, diving back in to gather more, this time digging deep. the movement finally pushed you over the edge. “Tha’s it.” he praised, dipping his head low to lap his mess beneath your flexing thighs.  -

You spent the following half hour under a steaming waterfall shower head with a looming mass tucked against your back, cleaning you up and rutting against you in random incriments- his skin surely emitting steam at a higher rate than the water. He bowed his head into your neck, bunting against you and inhaling the smell of his favourite body wash on your skin. “-Got an offer from 141 Athletics a bit ago, they could take care of it all for us, y'know.” he mumbled, pausing and dragging his nose along your nape. “Yer' coming-" he breathed out. “You work for me, not Mitch- You're coming with me.” you could feel his lips drag up in a sneer against your skin when the man's name left his mouth. In an attempt to comfort him, you tried to turn and face him, but thick arms stopped you, curling under your arms and around your chest, sneaking a feel before pulling you into him, the fatty layer coating his pecs molding against your back like a dream.

You nodded.

“Good.” he sighed.

One of my fav authors guys

Guys

I can't

This person dragged my ass into the trenches of this fandom in the very beginning

Hi!!! Idk what happened but you disappeared from my dash for a while and now you are back and it feels a lot like seeing the return of greenery to a burnt forest :D very happy

YOU'RE SO SWEET!!! I literally made a little squeak out loud and I think it might've spooked my boyfriend, so congrats on spooking a full grown man.

I hope to post a lot more! I love posting regularly, and I love love LOVE asks and replies to my posts! Seriously. I can't stress how much it makes me smile and giggle and blush. I just can't control it.

I have some ideas for fics (including an upcoming centaur au???) but I am curious about what sort of fics people would like to see! If you have suggestions, please let me know!!!

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Phillip Graves who makes you into his perfect little wife.

It all started out on a mission in god knows where, it was a simple hostage situation. Get in, free the hostages, get out.

One of the shadows had found you after the majority of the hostages were cleared out and safe. The shadow rang in through the talkie, ‘sir, you might want to come see this one.’

And he was right.

Phillip thought you were such a darling little thing, all vulnerable, beaten and half naked. His heart clenched at the thought of what a pretty thing like you had gone through.

So, he takes you into his arms as uncharacteristically careful as he could, and brings you to safety himself.

He kept tabs on you for months after, he found your medical records, your home address, your place of work- anything he could get his grubby hands on. He called your phone a few days after you’d been released from the hospital, he just wanted to check in on you, that’s all, no need to ask how he got your number or why theres a large bouquet of roses on your front step.

It took far longer than he wished for you to agree to a date with him, but he made damn sure it was worth it. Took you to a fancy restaurant, a late night walk where he draped his blazer over your shoulders.

“This could be a regular thing, honey.”

So, it became that. Every chance he got, he took you out. He bought you pretty dresses, heels, jewelry- anything his sweet girl wanted. Then, he bought you a pretty diamond ring and gave you his last name.

There’s no doubt he refers you and him as the shadows ‘mama and daddy’ in the most unironic way that makes you roll your eyes.

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