#(I also hope apple cider turns out okay bc I love apple cider and that season is coming up)

[thelastspeecher]

testing different foods so I can know whether to keep them out of my diet or add them back in update:

mandarin oranges are a no-go in a v big way

but regular oranges are a-okay

[nickfowlerrr]

so inviting, i almost jump in.

pairing: neighbor!bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: fluff. pining. idiots in love? fake dating...kinda lol. a lil bit of angst but not too much.

words: 4.5k

notes: happy new year! i tried so hard to finish this last night but just couldn’t do it lol. this is part of the ciwywt universe, but i think it can be read as a standalone, too.

also - coherent, consistent timelines? sorry, don’t know her. idk where this fits in their story but it does bc i say it does. 😌 i really love these two and i hope you enjoy this lil fic as much as i do. thank you in advance for reading. as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome, and so appreciated! 💞

"Ow,” you wince, “damn it," you grumble to yourself as you set your eyeliner pencil down, blinking rapidly to quell the tears you could feel about to form in your eye. You huff and turn to look down at the cause of your distraction, your phone ringing loudly as it lays on the counter. You see the caller and preemptively roll your eyes. Not this again.

You swipe to answer the call and his voice immediately floats into your ear, giving you no time to even utter a 'hello'.

"Before you say anything-"

"No," you state firmly, annoyance clear in your tone as you stop him before he can begin.

"Doll,"

"Bucky, I said no," you cut him off again. "It's a no. No. No, no, no. Not gonna happen," you continue despite his pathetic huff sounding on the other end.

"I know you said no..." he says before trailing off for a second, "but, doll, I really need you."

Damn him. You sigh heavily into the phone, putting a hand to your forehead to stop the headache you know is coming. He's really trying to pull on your heart strings... unfortunately for him, it's not gonna work.

"You don't need me, Bucky. You're gonna be fine. They're your friends, if you just tell them what you told me, they'll understand. You have nothing to worry about."

"That's not," he huffs, stopping himself, and you can almost hear him shake his head, "Will you at least try to come by?"

You know you won't, but you don't want to upset him any more than he already is.

"Yeah, I'll try. And stop worrying so much. You'll have a good time, I know it," you smile, the thought of him and his friends enjoying their New Year's Eve tugging at your lips.

"Yeah," he responds, sounding a little unsure. "Okay, well, I'll see you later?"

"Mhm...maybe," you say.

"Doll," he groans, causing an unbidden laugh to slip from you at his dramatics.

"I said I'd try, no promises! But I do have to go now, so, talk later. Bye," you finish, hanging up on him before he can try and talk you into making a promise you have no intention of keeping.

You sigh heavily as you set your phone back down, returning to your almost finished makeup. Just because you aren't going out doesn't mean you can't look good.

You're still so surprised he asked you to be his fake date to his New Year's Eve party. Both because you were surprised he was hosting a party to begin with, and because he needed a fake date.

But that was just it, he didn't need a fake date. He wanted to get his friends off his back with the constant set ups and double dates they'd plan for him. What he really needed to do was tell them the truth, just like he told you. He didn't want to date, at least not right now. He said his mind was on other things. That was understandable, so you weren't sure why he couldn't just tell them that...

A part of you feels bad for not helping Bucky out, but the other part of you knows you'd feel like a total outsider at a small party being attended by the avengers.

Like, the real-life superhero team, The Avengers.

That was an immediate 'no thank you'.

You were content to spend the night alone; just you, your grapes, and some apple cider to cheers to the new year.

--

The television plays on, another episode of a show you've seen ten times before just starting up, as a knock sounds at your door.

You furrow a brow as your head shoots in its direction. It only takes a second for you to come to the conclusion that it must be Bucky. You set your drink down and stand from where you were sitting cozily on your couch.

You fix your dress, and for no reason at all, check yourself in the mirror before you near the door, making sure your makeup isn't smudged and your hair still looks nice as you do.

There's another knock as you get to it and you open your door with a bit of attitude at his impatience.

"Bucky, how many times-" you're stopped short as you quickly see that the man before you is, in fact, not Bucky. "Oh, uhm, sorry, can I help you?" you ask.

"Yeah," the man laughs, "I'm here for the party. This is the right apartment, isn't it? Bucky Barnes?" he asks, looking at you quizically.

"No," you answer, "no, wrong apartment. He's just," again you're cut off, but this time by the door right down the hall opening, none other than Bucky peeking out to look down at you and - oh my god wait...is this - this is - holy shit you're talking to Captain America. Your eyes round as you look from Bucky back over to the man before you. "Oh, gosh, you, you're,"

"Sam Wilson," he smiles brightly at you, extending a hand. You shake hands as he continues, "and you must be-"

He is cut off from saying your name as it comes out of Bucky's mouth, almost frantically. You look from Sam back over to Bucky, your eyes still wide.

"I know you're still getting ready, but would you come here for just a second," he nods at you. You look once more between Sam and Bucky, your eyes narrowing as they land back on your own personal pain in the ass. What the hell is he up to... You and Sam go to walk over to him but Bucky speaks again. "Not you, Sam. You stay there," he says in a fuss. Sam puts his hands up, a look of confusion clear on his face at Bucky's demand.

You continue toward him and as soon as you're close enough to touch, he pulls you to him, turning you both so Sam can't see what you're saying. It's a hushed conversation, a whispered argument, really.

"You have to come over."

"No, I really don't."

"You do."

"I don't."

"You're staying."

"No, I'm not."

"You're staying. I'm not letting you leave," he says, trying to corral you into his apartment as you swipe at him, a back and forth of swats ensuing between the two of you.

"Bucky!" you finally whisper yell, stopping the battle as you ball your fists, almost stomping like a toddler in your annoyance. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I lied."

"Huh? To me? About what?"

"To all of you. But mostly them. I told them you'd be here. Because I thought you would be. But then you said you weren't coming, but I couldn't tell them that or they'd think I was just making up another lie about you..."

"Another lie?"

"I...may have... told my friends that we're dating and have been for a few weeks," he murmurs under his breath, so quiet you can barely hear his confession.

"You what?" you balk, trying your hardest to squash the stupid butterflies that are fluttering around in your stomach now at the idea of not only dating Bucky, but of being someone he brings up in conversation to other people.

"Alright, love birds, cute as this is, are one of you gonna invite me in or am I just supposed to stand here awkwardly in your hallway all night?" Sam interjects, walking to you both as you turn your heads to look at him.

Bucky turns entirely, moving closer to you, slipping his arm behind your back and resting his hand on your hip, "Yeah, welcome in. Steve said he'd be here with beer in a few minutes," Bucky says, an annoyed edge to his voice as he lets Sam through the door. Sam raises a brow at you and you force a smile. As soon as he's inside, Bucky snaps the door shut behind him, leaving you both in the hallway still.

"What the hell," Sam says, loud enough for you to hear through the door.

"Look, it started as a lie to get out of a date, but then I just kept using you an excuse to not go to things I didn't wanna go to. And ya know, more than half the time I wasn't really lying because I was with you," he tries to excuse himself.

"Are you insane?" you ask him plainly.

"I know, I'm sorry, but I really need you to be here tonight, please," he begs, his puppy eyes starting to get to you.

"You had only asked me to be your fake date."

"Yeah, once you said yes, I was gonna work the girlfriend thing in," he smiles wryly, rubbing the back of his neck in his anxiousness.

"You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Is that a yes?"

You roll your eyes before acquiescing, "Fine. But you've gotta come clean tomorrow. You can't start the new year with secrets, it doesn't bode well for anyone."

"Deal," he smiles his real smile this time. Then his eyes drift down to your outfit and you warm, like you always do, under his attention. "You look good," he says softly, sincerity in his voice.

"Thanks," you accept quickly. You will not let him fluster you so easily. Not tonight.

--

More of Bucky's friends arrive soon after you get back from your apartment, your bag of grapes and bottle of unopened cider in hand. Bucky introduces you to each of them and you're now unsurprised that they know your name and exactly who you are. And you, for your part, are in awe of each and every one of them. Though you like to think you don't make it obvious.

And it's surprising how normal it all feels.

You for sure thought you'd be a nervous wreck around these people, but, especially with Bucky by your side, you've never felt so calm and comfortable, and at a party of all places. Though you suppose it helps that you're already so comfortable around his apartment. Still, it's nice. They're nice. And fun!

Card games are played, karaoke sung, and stories told as you all snack and chat the evening away.

You're all laughing as Sam talks about how everyone was sure Bucky had been making you up like a summer camp girlfriend after the fifth time he claimed you were sick or out of town so you couldn't show up to the events they had invited you to. Of course, you had no idea about any of them, but you do know where you were each and every night they brought up.

You were here.

With Bucky.

So, he wasn't completely lying. You smile and look to Bucky who stands right next to you. Your eyes instantly meet his, a smile of his own already gracing his face. You look back down, bashful despite yourself.

The night has passed so quickly and it's already nearing midnight. You're about to go get your grapes ready, but Steve's voice stops you, catching your attention.

"Ya know, I can't even remember the last time I've seen you look so happy, Buck," Steve smiles as he looks at the two of you. "I'm really happy for you, both of you,” he adds. “It's obvious how much you two care about each other. It's good to see."

You don't know what to say, and you're too scared to look at Bucky. You just force another smile, feeling a bit sad more than anything. Because this isn't real. Whether you'd like it to be or not. It isn't. You have to remind yourself of that.

Bucky's hand squeezing your waist, and the feeling of his admiring gaze on you as he pulls you closer to his side, doesn't help. It just makes that pit in your stomach grow deeper.

This is easy for him because it means nothing.

This is killing you because it means everything. It’s everything you never give yourself permission to dream about. Everything you want. And it’s what you know isn’t for you. It couldn’t be.

Just a few more minutes, you breathe, and then you'll go back to normal. No dating, just friends...just friends? Whatever it is you are to him...

You're lost in thought as the conversation continues around you, Bucky's hand never leaving you and his gaze never wavering. Even as he engages in the conversation, his attention is solely on you.

"Oo, countdown is going!"

The yell pulls you out of your head as your eyes snap to the television. What the hell! How did you just lose eight minutes? Damn Bucky always taking up your thoughts and distracting you.

You don't have the time to get to the fridge for your grapes as the kitchen is crowded, flutes of cider and champagne being passed out among the group.

You tsk, oh well. At least you have on your red underwear.

As the count gets lower, Bucky gets closer, and you mindlessly lean back into him as you watch the live broadcast from Time Square. Ten seconds hits and you all count along, Bucky's other arm comes around as he holds you from behind. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Bucky turns you around in his arms, catching you off guard as you look up at him, your hands coming to rest on his chest.

Two.

He leans in, and you're frozen. His nose brushes yours, as his lips brush against your own. Oh.

One.

"Happy New Year," he whispers against you, cheers and exclamations of the same sentiment shared all around the living room, between everyone else.

"Happy New Year," you whisper back breathily before you unthinkingly press closer to him.

His lips meet yours as he leans in ever closer and kisses you, so softly. Your eyes flutter closed as you return his affection, kissing back harder than you intend before you break away. It feels like magic, it feels like home. And you want nothing more than to do it again. To lose yourself in him so delightfully…

You remember yourself then and almost shy away completely before Bucky takes your face in his hand, turning you back to him. You lock eyes once more and you feel like you can't breathe at what you see in his. You don't have time to think on it before his eyes flick down to your lips and then he's kissing you again. His lips press harder against yours, still moving just as gently but somehow it feels much more intimate. Sincere. Real.

You deepen the kiss and then suddenly the whooping and claps around you both bring you back to reality.

You pull away, taking a sobering breath, blinking away the haze of longing as Bucky's delicate touch remains on your cheek. You gingerly reach to take his hand, slowly pulling it off of you. You hold it for a second, squeezing his hand before letting it drop.

The celebration continues all around but you need to get yourself together. Alone.

"'M gonna use the bathroom," you whisper to him, knowing he can hear you even through the din.

You exchange 'Happy New Year' exclamations with everyone you pass on your way to his bathroom and bid goodnight to the people already getting ready to head home. A lot of them have early mornings at the tower, so you get it.

There are only a few people in the living room with Bucky as you look back before you escape to the bathroom, taking your time to decompress.

Sam, Steve, and Nat were talking with him, but his eyes were on you when you looked at them.

You knew this was a bad idea. You knew you'd get caught up in the fantasy. And somehow, he still got you to do it. You curse yourself in the mirror and then notice your smudged lipstick.

The thought of your lipstick staining Bucky's lips right out there has you in a flurry of emotions...

He kissed you. Twice. That actually happened. But did it really mean anything?

Your heart twists as you refuse to believe it could have. You just need to... God, you don't know what you need. All you know is right now you can't stop thinking about Bucky's hands on you. You can't stop thinking of how soft and supple his lips are. And how damn good of a kisser he is.

You look at yourself once more in the mirror.

Fucking hell. What are you gonna do? You sigh, eyes squeezing shut before you shake your head at yourself.

You turn back to the door, opening it right when someone's knock hits.

You're somehow surprised, and yet not at all, to see Bucky staring back at you as you pull it open wider.

"Hey," you say, raising a brow and shoving every fuzzy feeling threatening to strangle you back down.

"Hey," he started. "Everyone left. I just, uh. Wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Yeah, I'm good," you nod.

"I'm sorry. About kissing you."

"Oh," you utter - sounding more dejected than you wanted to. "Yeah, no. Don't, don't even worry about it." You muster a shamefully see through smile.

His stare is near invasive as he really looks at you, analyzing you. He opens his mouth to speak, but thinks better of it, instead giving you a tight lipped smile in return.

He nods, then looks to the floor, "Okay," he accepts.

You nibble your lip, crossing your arms as he still stands in front of you.

He notices and moves out of your way, offering a small sorry and a huff of a laugh.

You walk back out into the living room as he follows.

"Wow, this place is a mess,” you breathe a laugh, hoping to keep the subject change.

"Yeah," he agrees, "I'll be having fun tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" you question. "Are you busy now?"

"... I guess not."

"Then grab a garbage bag, Barnes. We've got work to do."

He laughs, "Oh, yeah? You're gonna stay and help me clean up?"

"What are friends for if not clean up?"

He smiles at you as his mind replays his conversation with Sam, Steve and Nat just minutes ago.

He told them the truth about you, and their reaction wasn't what he expected, but definitely what he needed.

"Wait, sorry, you're not dating her?" Nat asked, puzzled.

"Yeah, I'm confused, too," Sam added. "You guys act more like a couple than most couples I know."

"And she's cute, you seem perfect together."

"Well, we're not. Not, not perfect together," he amended, "I mean we're just not together. We're friends. Nothing more."

"Looks like a hell of a lot more, if you ask me..."

"So," Steve finally chimed in, "you spend all that time together, you talk about her constantly, and I saw the way you kissed her at midnight, Buck, but you're telling us it's nothing more than friendship?"

Bucky didn't know what to say. But he knew Steve knew what he was really feeling. He knew exactly what he wasn't saying.

"Do you want it to be more?" he asked. "Because from an outsider's perspective, it seems like you have everything with her but the label."

"I..." Bucky looked around, making sure you hadn't snuck back out of the bathroom yet, "yeah. I do want it to be more. She's, fuckin' perfect," he breathed a laugh as his thoughts, as they always do, strayed back to you. That familiar warmth that fills his chest anytime you're near, or hell, anytime he so much as thinks your name, returned to him. And suddenly his thoughts went back to the softness of your cheek as he held you close earlier. How pliant and perfectly your lips moved against his as you kissed him back. Not once, but twice.

Even still, he thinks back to when he told you why he was so reluctant to go on the dates his friends kept setting up for him. It was a lie when he said it was because he didn't want to date right now... well, partially. He really didn't want to date around. And his mind was focus on other things.

Other things, of course, being you.

When you nodded and told him you got it, that you felt the same way, his heart felt like it deflated by ten.

He was getting ready to finally make his move and ask you out, for real this time. But how could he do that now? He didn't want to be another guy you had to swat away, he couldn't be another one of your rejections. And you gave out plenty, always to his selfish delight if he was being honest. In fact, he can't remember the last time you actually went out on a date. It's been months...

Most of your nights are spent together. Just the two of you. But if you weren't wanting to date anyone right now, and he asked you, he couldn't be sure what you'd say. More importantly, where it'd leave you.

Bucky wasn't stupid, he wasn't blind, and he wasn't deaf. He had every confirmation he could ever want that you liked him the same way he liked you. But he didn't want to chase you away by pressuring a relationship, especially if that's not what you want.

"It's clear she likes you, too, ya know," Steve pointed out what he thought was the obvious.

"I know, I just. I don't wanna push her away by moving too fast. I don't think she's looking to date anybody right now,"

"If you don't ask, you'll never know."

He knew they were right. He needed to just bite the bullet and ask you outright. And he would.

But as he watches you glide around his kitchen, so at home, putting things back in their rightful places and throwing away the random garbage left behind, he thinks maybe not tonight… He doesn’t want to ask a question that might make you leave. But then again…what if it makes you stay?

"Chop chop, supersoldier," you admonish him as he continues to watch, staring dreamily at you. Your back is to him so you can't see his face, but you can feel the weight of his gaze.

Bucky follows your lead, tossing away the empty cups and putting away the leftover food and drinks while you wipe down the counter.

It really wasn't that much of a mess, but you're glad to get it cleaned now, so you won't have to worry about it tomorrow.

Wait...why would you be worried about it tomorrow? This isn't your apartment. God, you really are always over here, aren't you...

You turn to Bucky as he ties off the bag of trash.

You just look at him for a minute. Admiring him from mere feet away while he does the same to you. It's quiet between the two of you, but you can feel the charged silence as it brims with words unsaid.

You know what you want to do right now. But you do what you think you should instead.

"I guess I'll head out, then."

"Oh," he breathes.

"Oh?"

"I just, uh,” he shakes his head, "Never mind."

"No, what is it?" you prod, now entirely curious.

Bucky's bright eyes flash back up to yours and you see him search for what to say instead of saying what was on his mind.

"Your grapes," he remembers, turning to the fridge to get them for you, "you didn't eat them."

"Oh, yeah, well, too late now," you laugh softly.

"What's your resolution?" he asks.

"That's not how the grapes work, Bucky."

"Come on," he goads. "What's your resolution? I wanna know."

"Hmm. Well, good question," you think for a moment, watching him as he rinses off a bunch, then pulls two grapes from their stems. You mindlessly purse your lips as you think. "I want to be less scared," you start quietly, eyes meeting his intent gaze, when he looks back at you, "More confident," you add with a little nod.

"You, more confident?" he asks. "You're one of the most confident people I know. And I know Thor," he adds, getting the laugh he was hoping for from you.

You shrug, "Fake it til you make it." You give a soft, almost sad smile. It physically hurts him to see that hint of sadness in your eyes, and he wants nothing more than to do whatever he can to take it away. He hands you one of the two grapes and you raise a brow as you take it.

"And you?"

Your heart rate kicks up as he steps close, invading your space and standing right before you.

"I…would like to communicate better."

You huff a laugh, tittering, "Yeah, that's a good one."

"Let's both start right now," he says, holding up his grape.

"Okay. Let's," you hold up your own grape, bumping it into Bucky's as if you were toasting before you both pop your own grape into your mouth, stupid smiles on both of your faces.

As you finish, Bucky takes a step closer, surprising you as you look up to him. A bit of deja vu coming over you as you swallow hard. You wait a long breath for him to say something. And then he finally does.

"So. This is me, trying to communicate better: I'm not really sorry that I kissed you. Either time. And if I'm being entirely honest, I'd really like to kiss you again right now."

You're stunned silent and you think you can hear your blood rushing in your ears as you blink up at him.

It takes you a moment before you think you can respond, but Bucky speaks again before you do.

"But I'm not going to do that. Because I want to do this right. In fact, I've been wanting to do this right for months."

"Bucky?" you murmur quietly.

"Doll, will you do me the pleasure of accompanying me to dinner and a movie this Friday?" he asks sincerely.

Your mouth is dry and you have to force yourself to swallow hard again so you can speak. "We always do dinner and movies on Fridays," you point out.

"I mean as a date," he clarifies, holding himself to his resolution.

You stare at him, unsure of what to say. Well, that's not true. You know what you want to say. You know what you want to do. You want to say yes, and you want to lean into him again and indulge him in one more kiss, because you want to kiss him as badly as he wants to kiss you. But that terrified voice in the back of your head is currently telling you to make a run for home as fast as you can. You want to fight the fear, really you do.

Bucky is keeping his resolution already, you're just not sure if you can do the same.

"Uhm," you drone awkwardly.

He laughs that nervous laugh you rarely get to hear...the one you love.

"Is that a yes?" he asks with a hopeful wince.

It takes you a second and then your mouth moves before your brain does as you respond to him.

You stand there, a bit shocked at your own answer, and not entirely sure where to go from here...

[morvantmortuary]

sugar high -

(Hector Morvant-Casares x Reader)

summary: Hex invites you along for an afternoon errand.

warnings: brief descriptions of a depressive episode. a shit-ton of fluff. like, syrupy, frothy fluff. I’m not kidding. you watch your teeth.

general: for Spooky Season in the Barrens: apple cider, candy corn, skulls. 🍎💀

I’ll be honest, Hex is not usually my go-to fluff guy, but goddamn if he doesn’t have a whole mushy side when you let him talk a bit.

Any corrections on his Spanish are appreciated - I double-checked everything and tried to stick with Mexican localization, but I’m still learning. :’D

also, I know so much more about the making of calaveras than I did last week. hot damn, those can get involved. any suggestions or needed corrections there (or with any discussion of the holiday) are also appreciated.

reader is as always genderqueer/non-binary (but I stuck to feminine endings for Spanish bc those are what I’m more familiar with, sorry :’D), and I write them as bisexual but that’s not explicitly mentioned here. any tweaks to language so people can have a more seamless experience are always helpful.

okay, hope this helps brighten your day a bit. 🖤

You didn’t even have to look up from your book to know who was calling you, and wasn’t just texting like a normal person.

Without looking up from your page, you reached over and answered with the tap of one finger, then put him on speaker with another. “Who dares?”

“Hey, so, I’m madly in love with you. Do you wanna go out with me? Like, right now, or I’ll die of loneliness?” Hex said it like he was asking about the weather. The mustang’s motor purred in the background, and the faint thud of some dance remix on low drifted through your phone’s speaker like a tinny distant dream.

You smiled, closing your book and setting it beside you on your mattress. “Hmm. That depends.”

“Depends? Ouch. After my very sincere confession?” Hector laughed, making you smile wider. “Depends on what?”

“We-ell.” You stretched the syllable out as you stretched in turn, then collapsed back onto your pillows. “I’m very busy having a lazy afternoon, you see.”

Pale autumn sunlight danced in dappled patterns on your ceiling. You’d successfully managed to change from your pajamas to your comfiest sweats after taking a luxuriously long bath. This was only topped by the fact that you were currently cozy in a bed with a book that had been on your TBR for months, that you’d been swearing you’d get around to, for real this time.

“Is that so?” You heard the click of his turn signal, apparently not given pause by your demurring.

“Yes, and I’ve had it scheduled all week. I simply can’t cancel on myself again,” you explained, waving a hand lazily. “…Unless.”

“Te escucho,” Hex prompted. You heard him tapping on his steering wheel with his index fingers, restless. “Come on, lay it on me.”

“I could only be convinced to cancel on me if you had some really, truly spectacular, showstopping way to sweep me off my feet, that I just had to drop everything for right now.” You fought to keep your tone as serious as possible. “So this better be a really fabulous proposal, whatever comes next. Lots of pressure. Definitely overthink it.”

Hex sucked his teeth audibly, pretending to think. “Damn, I was just gonna ask if you wanted to go grocery shopping with me.”

“I’ll get my jacket.” You slid off your bed, stretching again from where you’d be laying there in a marathon session with your novel. “How close are you?”

He laughed again, low in his throat with that little bit of rasp that felt like his fingers in your hair. A second later, you heard the short beep of a car horn in your driveway.

“Oh, shit. Be right there!” You grabbed your phone off your bed and hustled now for the door to your room.

“Relax, baby, no hurry,” Hector said, his voice echoing slightly in your hallway as you moved. “Maxi just asked me to pick some stuff up for this pre-need thing he’s throwing tomorrow.”

“Yeah?” You slid into your shoes where they were piled by your entry way, and then grabbed your bag for whatever wouldn’t fit in your pockets - charger, headphones, anything you’d want if you headed to his place after. “…What’s a pre-need again?” You topped all this off by pulling on one of Hex’s hoodies that you’d stolen from him ages ago, fitting you comfortably as it did every time. You’d have to sneak it back into his laundry soon, you knew — it was beginning to smell more like you than him.

“Ugh, don’t worry about it.” Hector sighed so loud you could almost hear his eyes rolling. “Basically lots of little old and anxious people start getting antsy and thinking about death in October, because skeletons, so he offers this afternoon thing where he teaches them how to set up all their funeral stuff in advance. Es hella aburrido, which is why he has to offer the free food.”

“Ah. That all makes sense.” You stepped outside and made a point to lock your door. Granted, Hex was the only person you could conceive of who had ever broken in - or who would ever want to break in - but still. Greymoon was a weird town.

One never knew what, exactly, was going to turn up as dusk claimed a larger and larger share of the hours.

You hung up the call as you pulled the passenger door open, leaning over to kiss him before you closed it. “So what all do you serve at a funeral tutorial-thing?”

“Oh, you know— hey,” Hector paused, eyeing your clothes critically before looking at you with theatrical levels of suspicion. “You told me you hadn’t seen that one.”

“What, this?” You feigned innocence, looking down at his hoodie. “Oh, I thought you meant your… other one.” The man had like ten, this wasn’t impossible. “Do you want it back?” You widened your eyes and pouted just the tiniest bit, certain he wouldn’t say no, but wanting to lay it on thick.

“Let me see.” He leaned over abruptly to take an exaggerated sniff of the hood and your hair, making you giggle and try to lean away. “Nah,” he concluded, sitting back up. “That needs another day.”

You were still giggling, adjusting the hood around your shoulders. “Another day for what?”

Hector took the car out of park, looking over his shoulder to pull out of your driveway even though he could do it in his sleep. “It needs time to get that good You smell in there. What is that, anyway? Perfume? Shampoo? Essence of angel?”

“Shut up, corn lord.” You swatted his shoulder, making him smile. “I only wear it as long as it smells like you, anyway.”

“Really? Aw. Sorry about that.” Hector grinned when you laughed again. One of his hands fell to its usual place on your knee as he pulled out onto the main road. “The hell do I smell like, anyway? Film developer and sadness?”

“No.” You intertwined your fingers together and squeezed his hand. “You don’t smell like sadness, Señor Artiste.”

Between Hex’s constant connection to the world after this one, his resulting insomnia, and his… already artistic temperament, you knew he occasionally had to fend off the depression that seemed to run in the Morvant line. Whereas Maxi diverted his restless version into constantly fixing and cleaning, and Rora’s manifested in squalls of anger and verbal venom, Hex’s ennui would lay him out flat for days — occasionally, weeks. You’d spent time before helping him excavate his bed from under piles of unfolded laundry that he’d just been sleeping around, and braiding his hair when he couldn’t find the energy to wash it. You knew he worried about letting you see him like this, and he’d confessed to you once during one of the worse episodes that he was scared it was too much to expect you to handle.

But just like the ghosts he channeled, it would eventually release him from its grip, and he would make a point to be just as sweet to you when it was your turn to deal with your inner demons.

“News to me.” Hector’s smile was a little more subdued now. “So, what, just film developer? Dusty house?”

“No, you smell like… hold on.” You held your free hand to your face, inhaling deeply from your sweater-paw. “You smell like… cinnamon. And coffee with chicory — like there’s any other kind down here.” You took another sniff, taking your time. “And something, like, incense-y? Is that from the viewing room?”

“Oh, nah.” Hex was quiet, and it stretched as you found yourself weirdly waiting for an answer.

He kept his eyes pointedly on the road and cleared his throat. “I keep some of the stuff my ma used to use in my closet. For emergencies.”

You blinked. Hector didn’t bring up that side of the family a lot. He didn’t really bring up either side, if he could avoid it, but definitely not hers. “Your mom burn incense a lot?”

“Yeah. Just for, like… ritual stuff. She was into that sort of thing.” He paused, and when the two of you were stopped at a red light, he lifted his steering hand to smell the hoodie he was currently wearing. “Weird. I’d totally forgotten it was up there.” He held it out and scrutinized it, as if to search for visible traces on the fabric. “Guess I’m just noseblind to it now.” He shrugged, but almost a little too hard. Like he was trying to shake off the idea.

You hesitated as the car pulled forward again, wanting to respect a sensitive topic, but still curious. “…What qualifies as an ‘incense emergency’?”

“Oh, the usual. One of the ghosts in the House gets too full of itself after a seance. Rora fucks up another taxidermy resurrection. Maxi gets a body for restoration that’s been in a car for a week.” He winked at you when you shuddered at the thought. “Any of the very sexy circumstances where you’d rather smell like something burning, or burning something beats something else in supernatural Rock-Paper-Scissors.”

“Yikes. I’ll keep that in mind.” There were a million more questions about it on the tip of your tongue, but you kept them in check as he parked in front of the smaller grocery store in town — the one that had the more unusual finds, depending on the season.

You were always slightly amazed at how he managed to pull the mustang in between some of the ridiculously large trucks that populated most Greymoon parking lots. Somehow, he always found a convenient spot for his little black car. Like magic, if magic could be used for something so mundane.

As the two of you got out, there was still the slightest shadow on his face as he closed his door. “So does that not, like, bother you?” When you gave him a confused look as you closed your own, he nodded to the hoodie. “I’ve had it in my closet forever; it must smell pretty strong.”

“Oh! No.” You circled around and wound your fingers through his again as he locked the car. “I like it, actually.” As the two of you headed inside, you found yourself swinging your hands together like a little kid; you were determined to lighten the mood back up to what it had been. “It’s layered with so much other stuff — your cafe con leche, your detergent, your developer. Your beard oil,” you added, which made him laugh sheepishly as the two of you passed through the automatic doors. “It just smells… I don’t know.” You racked your brain for the word. “Safe? Yeah.” You nodded. “You smell like home to me, you know? Now.” You wanted to keep talking, distract him from that earlier doubt with your current task. You scanned the aisles. “Do you have a list, or—“

You had to fight not to stumble when you were still walking and realized Hector wasn’t.

When you turned to check on him, he was looking at you with such soft, sincere eyes, you almost forgot the two of you had come to a stop next to a cluster of shopping carts.

Quietly, he lifted your intertwined hands to his mouth, kissing the back of yours with a sweetness that seemed all the more so in his silence.

You couldn’t look away, your own tongue once again tied.

It was one of those moments that he made you feel like you were the only two people left in the world.

“…’Shut up, corn lord,’” he echoed at last, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief as he watched you over your own knuckles.

“You shut up, whatever.” You felt your face grow warm in a way that had nothing to do with the indoor heating against the October chill, and stuck your tongue out at him. “You know what I’m saying.”

“I do. But I still like it when you say it.” He winked at you again, and this time there was a trace of the casual cockiness you’d seen when the two of you had first started flirting.

The difference was that now, you knew it was a front. Hex’s confidence was low key when it was genuine — a quiet, unflappable certainty.

He only played slick when how much he actually cared could overwhelm him entirely.

“I really mean it, Hex,” you protested quietly, squeezing his hand. “You have to know that by now.”

“And take that sweet shit for granted? Qué va.” But he still took his time letting go of you.

He sighed as he had over the phone, back to pretending this was a chore. “Alright, let’s get this over with.” He shoved a hand in a pocket of his own hoodie and pulled out his phone. With a couple of taps, he pulled up what looked like a text chain — you could see “pinche maxi” as the contact, followed by three skull emojis. “Got the list.”

You muffled a laugh, not wanting to be caught snooping. “Basket or cart?”

“The hell are you talking about?” Hector jokingly looked at you like you were crazy, before nodding pointedly at something ahead of you. “This is absolutely a cart situation, Bonita, come on. Eyes on the prize.”

Puzzled, you followed his gaze - and grinned, realizing exactly why he’d picked this store.

The Halloween candy display on the far side of the room was massive… but the stock floor was blessedly deserted.

You and Hex whizzed across the vacant produce section — taking turns balancing on the cart and pushing the other person — with only a brief pause to pick up a pre-cut veggie tray.

“There,” he said, before hastily checking off multiple items on the list.

You looked from the list to the tray, positive you’d seen ‘carrots,’ ‘celery,’ ‘cherry tomatoes’ as separate items. “Yeah, that has those.”

“Maxi’s going to complain and say he could’ve done it all himself,” Hector sighed, placing it carefully in the cart. “But he forgets how fucking picky he gets about setting up the extra chairs and the projector in the parlor, and stuff. That, plus having to cut everything just-so and arrange it on his little crudité board? He wouldn’t have time.”

You shrugged. “He can still put it all on the board if he wants to. It’s not like they’re gonna know.”

“That’s the spirit.” Hector snapped and pointed at you. “Primo needs to learn about artfully half-assing stuff. He takes all this pointless detail shit too seriously.” He paused to turn back and pick up a similarly packaged collection of cut fruit. “See? Boom. He didn’t even have those on the list; I’m just that thoughtful.”

“Clearly.” You couldn’t resist a smile. “Okay, so what else?”

“Cheese,” Hector said, as if this were obvious. “You always gotta feed grief with cheese.”

“But I thought this was for planning their own stuff?”

“It is, but have you seen how expensive shit is lately? They’re going to be grieving their wallets.” Hector pulled the cart behind him towards the dairy section with you balanced behind the handle. “You thought groceries were bad, you should see getting buried.”

“But isn’t your cousin on that whole...” You squinted as you tried to remember, gesturing vaguely. “Somthing-something against funeral poverty?”

“Yeah, doesn’t mean Louisiana isn’t still broke as shit. I swear to god, if it wasn’t for the damn House…” Hector sucked his teeth as he trailed off, staring down at two different cheese plates, then squinted at his phone. “Did he say…? Nah.” Seemingly satisfied, he picked up one of each and set them in the cart.

You raised an eyebrow. “Y’all expecting a big crowd?”

“Oh, hell no. We never get more than a few people at these things.” Hector looked at you, pointing to the plate with the slightly nicer variety. “That one’s for family.” He drew a loop in the air with his finger to rope you into the collective - something that still brought a bubbly warmth to your chest, even after you’d been dating this long. “We’re having that after, let the plebians have the cheap cheese.”

You laughed. “So glad I get to be included in the fancy cheese. I’m honored.”

“Only the fanciest of cheeses for you, mi amor.” Hex leaned up, giving you an obnoxiously loud kiss on the cheek. “Come on, we still need the important stuff.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s—” You were interrupted by your own delighted squeak as Hector rocketed with you and the cart towards the Halloween candy.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d giggled this much while just doing errands with someone. It had to mean something that you could leave your ideal day alone to go out and do something you normally dreaded, but still have more fun than your books could have ever promised.

Hector only just pulled you to a stop before any displays suffered an unfortunate collision, and you hopped off the back of the cart, the two of you sizing up the waiting shelves.

“Maxi said I could get Halloween stuff for this, but he said it had to be ‘tasteful’.” Hector gave the word some lazy finger quotes and rolled his eyes again. “Like I didn’t just see him buy one of those twelve foot skeletons. ‘It’s for the garden out back, Hex, it’s not the same’,” he quoted some little tiff they’d clearly had, doing a surprisingly good impression of his cousin’s accent around his own.

“So we’re definitely serving bleeding eye gumballs and gummy brains then?” you joked.

“I wonder if they still sell those plastic molds of hands.” Hector stroked his beard, pretending to ponder. “We could make ice hands with red food dye to put in the lemonade.”

“Crazy tasteful.” You nodded in agreement. “Or feet molds? Do they make those?”

“Ew, don’t be weird.” Hector gave you a look of fake disgust, making you both laugh before you split apart to browse in earnest.

“What about, like, mini chocolate bars? They’ve got like a million kinds.” You scanned the different shelves for the usual variety packs, finding a plethora of different groupings in brightly colored bags.

“You’d think, but no. Chocolate can melt and smear if people forget about it. And someone always forgets about it,” he added from the other side of the aisle, with a touch of that special exhaustion that comes from dealing with strangers. “And nothing that could’ve been remotely near peanut butter or nuts, Maxi said he needs a new epi-pen for the first aid kit.”

“Sure, fair. Can’t have anyone dying at the meeting about how to plan for dying. So that rules out…” You rotated slowly in place, taking stock of your options. “A lot.”

“Hey, that just makes my job easier.” Hector popped around an end cap, holding up two different versions of those holiday-themed marshmallows that had started solely as bunnies. “Skulls or ghosts?”

“For the thing or for us?”

“The thing.”

“Dude,” you laughed. “Like those little old and-slash-or anxious people won’t flip if we give them ghosts or skulls at a funeral planning seminar? You think they have enough whimsy for that?”

“Come on, it’s like, the whole reason we’re there. They gotta lighten up, man.” Hex rolled his eyes again. “Fine, I’ll just put them in the cart for after. Maxi can’t get mad at me if I bring him some, he loves this kinda shit.”

Your eyes fell on shelf of some old-fashioned candies. “Oh my god, I’m an idiot, this is so obvious.”

“How obvious?” Hector asked from the other side of the shelf.

You grabbed a bag of candy corn, inspecting the ingredients. “Nut-free factory! That’s a bonus!”

“Man, those poor factory workers.”

“Ugh, low hanging fruit.” You rolled your eyes, picking up another bag. “Come here.”

“Make me,” Hector teased, suddenly directly behind you.

“Jesus!” You whirled on the spot, startled at having not heard him sneak that close. “Behave.” You whacked his shoulder lightly with one of the bags you were holding.

“Jesus never behaved, that was like his whole deal.” Hector just plucked the bag from your hand, inspecting it before raising an eyebrow. “Candy corn?”

“What little old person doesn’t like candy corn?” You made an incredulous gesture with your free hand. “And like, these candy pumpkins.” You picked up a bag of the traditional pumpkins with the similar texture. “It’s classic for a reason.”

“Yeah, cultural indoctrination.” Hector smiled. “I can’t believe people actually eat this stuff willingly.”

“Oh, come on, it’s nostalgic as hell,” you said, placing the bags in his waiting hands. “It’s like being a little kid in your costume again.”

“Doesn’t mean it actually tastes good.” He nonetheless held still, tilting his head to look at the bag’s contents. “But sure, he can put them out in little decorative bowls or some shit, he loves those.”

You turned to set a last bag in his hands. “You honestly mean to tell me you don’t like candy corn?”

“I mean, I’ll eat it,” Hector said, sounding resigned. “But for the same reason as when I was small: because it’s there, and because it’s what we have, but not because I actually think it’s any good. Not that one,” he said, nodding to the last one you were holding. “We have enough.”

You frowned at the couple of bags in his hands. “You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay, so at least there won’t be any leftovers.” You shrugged, then beckoned for him to follow you onto the next aisle.

“Are you kidding? The old people aren’t gonna make a dent in this, candy corn multiples the minute someone turns their back on it.” Hector followed you. “Don’t you know Halloween math?” He continued as you burst into laughter. “The same thing would always happen: Tia Mathilde would buy some candy corn, or those tiny pumpkins, and then the bowl in the kitchen would just keep refilling itself all season. It’d never get any emptier, even when I was sure the twins ate so much they were gonna puke.”

“Maybe she just kept buying more bags?” You looked over your shoulder at him, raising an eyebrow. “Like how it works in the real world?”

“Nope, I’d check the trash whenever the bowl was full again!” Hector shook his head. “You watch, we’ll put this out, and then we’ll still be eating it until…”

You paused, turning once again to find Hector stopped behind you. “Babe?”

Hector didn’t answer, squinting at something on a shelf you’d passed.

“Something jumpscare you?” You walked back to peek over his shoulder.

“Yeah, those.” Hector nodded to a plastic box holding three small decorated sugar skulls.

“Oh, hey! I didn’t know they started selling those here.” You paused, surveying the surrounding products. “I didn’t realize they sold imported anything here, to be honest.”

“Those aren’t imported,” Hector said, nodding at the label. Sure enough, it was one of the generic store holiday brands. “They’ve just realized they can sell them and actually make some money. Check the piping around the eyes,” he gestured loosely with the corner of one of the bags. “There are people who work for months to get the decorative ones right, the legit shit. Even the ones you give kids to eat, they take their time with. That looks like someone put the icing on with their eyes closed.”

“Oh.” You leaned forward, inspecting for yourself. The piped icing to decorate the facial features looked very haphazardly applied, some of it smeared against the plastic during transport. “I see what you mean, yeah.” You glanced back at him. “It’s like, the opposite of artful half-assing. Half-ass art-ing.”

“I don’t think that’s even half an ass’s worth,” Hector said, smiling again when he made you laugh. It faded though as he looked back the store brand calaveras. “And they’re charging how much, for that quality? En esta economía? Hell,” he shook his head. “If that’s what people will pay around here for shitty ones, I should throw a bunch together and sell them at the House. Maybe be able to afford that new lens I want.”

“I didn’t know you knew how to make those,” you said, looking between him and the sad little skulls. “I mean, I should’ve guessed, what don’t you know how to make—“

“I don’t,” Hector said, glancing at you. You giggled, and he grinned. “I’m serious. I mean, in theory, sure: it’s like — what’re those fluffy stiff fuckers — meringues, right? Eggs and sugar? Mold it and wait? But my mom always went down early and bought ‘em from this artist lady she liked. For the ofrenda, and an edible one for me so I’d stop trying to lick the decorative ones when her back was turned.”

You paused in your laughter at that image, hesitant. This was the second time his mom had unexpectedly popped up this visit, and the first time hadn’t been… happy, per se. “Did you guys do that every year?”

“When we lived here? Not always,” he shrugged. “Sometimes she couldn’t get down and back in time, so we’d just leave some extra treats out and hope people coming back to visit would understand. Plus, when Tia Mathilde was in a bad mood, she’d get snippy about what room Ma could set stuff up in. Eventually, she just kept a small ofrenda in her room so she didn’t have to deal with Auntie griping about the marigold petals on the carpet.” He sucked the inside of his cheek for a minute, his eyes distant. “…She always remembered when we lived with her folks, though.” He looked away for a moment, pretending to inspect his sneakers. “But by then I usually spent the day elsewhere. It was kinda crowded. Anyway. Come on, beautiful,” he said, looking back up at you abruptly. “We got veggies to put in the fridge, get my cousin off my back.”

“Yeah, definitely.” You were sure that wasn’t what was actually what had him preoccupied, but you didn’t press. You followed him back to the cart, the two of you heading for check out. Though he was friendly as ever with the giggly (clearly somewhat smitten) cashier, you noticed Hex was subdued again, not even making his usual joke of buying out all the day-old donuts with Maxi’s credit card.

By the time the two of you walked out with your bags, you were scrambling slightly, trying to figure out how to bring him back to the present so he wouldn’t linger too long in his reverie.

As the two of you loaded the groceries into the trunk of the mustang, you spotted it: a little tent set up on the far side of the shopping center, with a handmade sign and two elderly people bundled up in lawn chairs. “Hey.”

“Hm?” Hex looked up from closing the trunk when you tugged his sleeve, eyes refocusing like he was emerging from a daze.

You thumbed towards the cider stand. “You want some?” You smiled, hoping you weren’t being obvious. “My treat?”

“Absolutely not.” Hector shoved his hand in his pocket, quickly producing his cousin’s card once again. “We’re still on a very official mortuary errand, let it be Maxi’s treat.”

“Then shouldn’t we bring him some?” Your smile felt more genuine as Hex took your hand, threading your fingers back together as you crossed the cracked little parking lot. “Since he’s being so kind?”

“Eh, it’s a had-to-be there thing, he knows how it goes.” Hector shrugged a shoulder. “Nothing personal, this is purely business.”

“Ahuh.” You muffled a small laugh. “And Rora? None for her?”

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’ emphatically. “La Reina made it perfectly clear she didn’t wanna come along. She didn’t help with grocery shopping, so she doesn’t get to reap the rewards of honest work.”

“Damn, you guys are cold-blooded,” you teased, hip-checking him lightly.

“Hey, I warned them fair and square, I didn’t wanna mix business and family.” He spread his free hand in an exaggeratedly helpless gesture. “This is what happens. It’s cut-throat.”

You were still laughing a little when the two of you reached the tent, and you couldn’t miss the rosy-cheeked elderly couple sneaking each other a knowing smile when they greeted you and Hex. A yellow lab sat up from where it had been laying sweetly at their feet, shaking itself and mirroring its people with a panting, tongue-hanging smile of its own.

You watched silently as the cider folks poured you both a full styrofoam cup and chatted with Hex, wondering if they maybe saw themselves in you two. If they had been like you once, feeling like there were only endless unknowns ahead of them, but had finally settled into a gentle present together - from the gentleman’s brief conversation with Hector, one filled with their apple orchard and their dogs, selling homemade cider on crisp afternoons.

As the two of you took your cider (with an extra cinnamon stick for Hex, since he asked the elderly woman with a polite yet roguish smile), you both made sure the lab behind its ears, Hector reminding her in multiple languages that she was a good dog before the two of you took your leave.

That wouldn’t be such a bad forever, you thought to yourself as the older folks waved goodbye. Just the two of you doing something little to make some extra cash, sitting together in the sunlight and chatting about everything and nothing while you waited for people to swing by. Riding home - a shared home, a house for both of you - in his old car, the tired quiet comfortable like a well-loved quilt.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the happy little noise Hector made as you both leaned against the trunk of his car, and you turned to see him enjoying a long sip with both cinnamon sticks still in the cup.

“Good?” you asked, smirking.

“Mmhm.” He pulled the rest away as if to inspect it, licking his lips. “Their spice blend is really killer. Fuck a PSL.”

“That’s why Greymoon never gets a Starbucks, they just know they couldn’t compete.” You took a sip of your own, and unwittingly made a similar noise. The taste that flooded your mouth was immaculately golden, the kind of distilled late afternoon sunshine from the romanticized autumns of years past. “Holy shit, you weren’t kidding.”

“Right?” Hector nodded. “I didn’t think we had any witches around lately, but now I don’t know. Little lady over there might just be hiding a pointy hat at home.”

“Now watch, we’re both going to be magically enthralled to some ancient Apple God when we least expect it.” You took another long sip nonetheless.

“Hey, beats my current thing.” Hector shrugged, downing more of his.

Oh. Right. That.

The small hitch in your soft little idea of forever.

You took another sip, your mind torn in both directions: his mom, which was what you’d been originally trying to distract him from, and now the issue of his necromantic Chain, which you were wondering if you needed distracting from.

“You having flashbacks on me?”

You blinked, looking up to find Hector watching your face. His head was tilted, his small smile looking crooked as he searched your eyes. “Where’d you go, preciosa? You got all thousand-yard stare for a sec.”

“I’m good.” You smiled, trying to prove it. “Just… Fall.” You gestured to the gorgeous day, the drinks in your hands.

“…Ahuh.” Hector said, clearly skeptical. He took one of the cinnamon sticks out of his drink, sticking the end that had been in the cider in his mouth. “Try me anyway?”

You hesitated, not wanting to bog down the moment. “…Why do I get the feeling you did the cinnamon challenge when it was a thing?” you asked instead.

“Nuh-uh,” Hector lied, the way he turned from you slightly to chew on the stick giving him away.

You laughed, immediately picturing the worst. “It didn’t go well, huh?”

“No, because I definitely didn’t do it in a room full of people at a party. What’re you, a cop?” He pointed the stick at you accusingly as you laughed even harder, nearly snorting cider as you went to take another sip. “You got your little FBI man in your phone to go through mine for proof or something? That’s low, that sneaky bastard, he’s supposed to be on my payroll.”

“I love you,” you said through the giggles you were trying to smother.

“Obviously.” Hector threw his hair dramatically over his shoulder, but he couldn’t quite hold the bravado as he looked at you, his gaze softening back into that look from before. “…I love you,” he repeated quietly, his version somehow warmer than the cider in your hand.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, and he slid an arm around your waist as he kissed the top of your skull. You stayed there, enjoying the smell of the fresh cinnamon and the hoodie he was wearing.

“…Earlier,” you spoke just as quietly, afraid to burst this little golden bubble. “When we were inside, you said something about ‘if it weren’t for the damn House.’” You angled your head so you could see his face. “What’d you mean?”

“Oh.” Hector rolled his eyes somewhat, his hand moving your waist to fiddle with a drawstring on your borrowed hoodie. “I just meant we’d be outta here already.”

You blinked, forcing yourself to hold off on the automatic hurt that wanted to leap to the forefront. “‘We?’ Like you and the twins?”

“Eh, if they wanted to, sure,” he said, shrugging. “But we’d find each other again if we needed to, they know that. I meant you and me.” He looked down at you. “I’d take you and we’d move somewhere beautiful, like, tomorrow. Get the fuck outta here, go somewhere with something going on. A real art scene, or at least someplace with actual nightlife, maldita. Or maybe we’d be like those weirdos that live in a van,” he went on. “Move around a bunch of places for a while. Like, we’d live at the beach, until you got tired of the beach, and then we’d try the mountains or something, y’know?”

“Oh, so you’d take me, huh?” Your grin threatened to split your face, it was so hard and so real.

“Obviously,” he said, his bravado back with a wink that made you laugh again. “I’d have to, before you had a chance to think it through.”

“Hey, I might be more game than you think.” You reached up, twirling a lock of his hair around the end of your finger. “What about where you’d want to live, though?”

“That’s the easy part.” He hip-checked you gently, which just pushed you more against his arm as he squeezed you in a hug. “Long as you’re there, I’m good.”

You looked at him for a long moment, pretty sure the warmth in your chest now had nothing to do with the cider or your hoodies in the sunshine. “You wanna head back?” Your hand dropped to tug lightly on his sweatshirt. “So we can put the groceries away before we get completely distracted making out, and so we don’t have an audience?” You glanced out of the corner of your eye at the tent in the distance.

“Yeah, sure babe. One sec.” Hex’s arm supported your back as he dipped you backwards, holding you steady as he made a show of kissing you in front of the grocery store.

It took you two until the lab started barking across the lot to remember you needed to actually get in and start the car.

(perhaps I was the real corn lord all along. :)

if you read this far, I hope you treat yourself to something delicious today 🥰)

[teenwolffanclub-me]

Haunted House

(Stiles Stilinski x Reader)

Request: What about a haunted house with Stiles?? I love the adrenaline rush but also I think it would be hilarious for someone who deals with literal supernatural creatures to go to a haunted house 😂

Word count: 1,315

Warnings: none, just haunted house shenanigans

Notes: I added Scott bc I couldn’t help myself, hopefully that’s okay! Also, send me more fall themed requests bc I’m obsessed!!

———————————————————————

A high pitched scream echoed through the small hallway, making you recoil back in fear.

A broad-shouldered figure rammed into your front as they tried scurrying away from whatever had startled them. The boy turned to face you, his chocolate eyes wide with panic.

“What? What was it?” A shaky voice rushed out from behind you.

“I don’t know. I thought I saw something.” The boy’s eyebrows rose sheepishly as he shrugged.

You slapped a hand against his chest for scaring you unnecessarily. “Scott, get it together. You’re literally a fucking werewolf!”

He frowned at you, offended by your accusatory tone. This haunted house was scary as shit already, and the three of you had barely gotten ten feet inside. Werewolf or not, this was not his idea of fun.

As if on cue, an angry voice shouted urgently from the entrance. “Get a move on! We have a line out here!”

“You heard her.” You swept your arm forward, gesturing for him to finish leading the way.

He scoffed, already feeling terrified enough for one night. “No way.”

You swiveled around to look at the boy behind you, catching a glimpse of his wide-eyed expression before he forced it into a more neutral one. He squared his shoulders and cleared his throat, glancing between his two partners-in-crime quickly.

“Fine. Sure. I-I’m not even scared, so...” He brushed past both you and Scott, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes in disbelief.

“Okay, Stiles.” If you knew one thing about him, it was that he liked to pretend he was fearless.

Realistically, you all knew this was fake. This wasn’t even one of those haunted houses that required a waiver or anything. It was literally put on by the high school’s theater department.

Plus, you’d already been through enough real terrors to supply a lifetime of nightmares. Jackson turning into a murderous kanima, Allison’s psychotic grandpa, a pack of alphas, and an ancient nogitsune to name a few. But there was just something about teenagers covered in fake blood jumping out of the dark that never failed to get your heart pumping.

Stiles took a few tentative steps forward and you looked at Scott expectantly when he didn’t move. The two of you fought silently for a few seconds, both jerking your arms in his direction, insisting the other go first. After a few long moments you finally relented with a scowl, rushing to catch up.

You crowded up close to Stiles’ back and grabbed one of his hands for comfort. You weren’t going to admit it to either of them, but you were actually pretty scared. Stiles spazzed wildly at the unexpected contact, whipping around to face you with wide eyes.

“Holy fuckin’ shit! Don’t do that!” He whispered harshly, his heart racing in his chest. He literally thought he was dying for a second there.

You looked at him incredulously and quietly yelled right back. “Are you kidding me right now? I thought you weren’t scared.”

His honey eyes twitched at your mocking tone before he begrudgingly turned back around. You walked forward slowly, hand in hand, for only a second before a room to your right illuminated to show a man dressed as a farmer. He was using a chainsaw to cut someone, who was suspended up like a scarecrow, in half.

It was a combination of the jarring volume of the saw, the guy’s maniacal laughter, and his victims screams that had you bolting up the narrow hall.

You put a hand on your chest as you tried catching your breath. Stiles hunched over, resting his hands on his knees for support as his chest heaved. You’d think he just tried to run a mile with the way he was gasping for air.

“Remember when I said that we should always listen to everything I say and never question any of my ideas ever?” Stiles huffed, looking up at you with a harsh glare.

You just smiled sheepishly. “I thought it would be fun...”

Fall had just started, after all. Beacon Hills tended to get freezing way too soon, and you wanted to soak up the autumn festivities while you could. Lydia and Kira had outright refused to come, despite your various attempts at bribery.

The boys were the only ones that usually humored you, anyway, so nothing was new there. Stiles turned back around and you continued down the path slowly, jumping at every single small noise or masked person who jumped out.

You were just beginning to think that you’d gone a suspicious amount of time without anything happening, when suddenly a person dressed in a terrible Freddy Krueger costume popped out of nowhere. Seriously, it looked like someone’s school project or something.

You screamed, more startled than actually scared. Stiles’ hands wrapped around your biceps and he shoved you in front of him, using you as a human shield. That plan only lasted a split second before he thought better of it and moved you behind him instead.

The guy’s yelling was all jumbled up beneath his mask, but he was determined to get a good scare out of you. When he slashed what you hoped was a fake knife at you, Stiles lunged forward and punched him right in the face.

Your jaw dropped in shock as the poor kid crumpled to the floor, moaning in pain. Stiles’ eyes widened in horror beside you. He was honestly more surprised than you that he’d just done that, but it was just his knee-jerk reaction to the sight of someone trying to hurt you.

He grabbed your hand tightly and speed-walked down the hall, ready to get the hell out of there. You happily let him drag you along, not wanting to be there anymore than he did. It was only after a few seconds that you realized you no longer felt Scott’s presence at your back.

“Wait!” You breathed, stumbling to a halt. You spun around only to confirm that he actually wasn’t there. “Where’s Scott?”

“Oh, Jesus. Are you kidding me with this? How did he get lost? There’s literally only one way you can go.” Stiles was more annoyed at the delay than anything. He just wanted to get this over with and drink some overpriced apple cider in the safety of the pumpkin patch outside.

“We have to go back.” You took a step in the direction you’d just come from, but had no choice but to stop as Stiles tightened his hold on you.

“Absolutely not.” He shook his head quickly and tugged you closer to his side. “He’s probably already dead, you know? He would want us to make it out of here. So we should really just—”

At that moment, someone popped out from behind a black curtain you hadn’t even noticed. Stiles spazzed beside you with a shout, dropping your hand to flail his arms upward before bolting down the hallway.

You stared at his retreating figure, jaw dropping at the way he’d just left you so easily. You glared at the masked stranger before stomping your way toward the exit, completely over this whole thing. Only a few moments later, you emerged from the haunted house, your narrowed eyes landing on Stiles as he bent over and clutched at his chest.

You were about to lay into him for abandoning you, when you caught sight of Scott sitting on a bail of hay a few feet away. He had the nerve to smirk at you in amusement, a cup of apple cider in one hand and a pretzel in the other. “Took you guys long enough.”

“We are never...” Stiles gasped for breath and raised an accusatory finger your way. “Ever doing anything like that again.”

You just rolled your eyes, knowing full well you’d force them into doing this again next year, and they would let you. 

[illumiiiz]

Random numbers like always! 1-5-7-9-16-23-29-33-41-50-56-58-59💞 [well, they are a lot so i hope you have fun😂]

Seeing you send me random numbers for all these ask games is one of my favorite things ever  😂🥺💞 Lol it is a lot, but thanks so much for sending these anyway!! I like answering a lot at once 😁 (I’ll put a keep reading thing here tho bc this does get pretty long and I don’t wanna scare y’all off with that first one haha )

Nice asks! 🌸

Edit: I HATE HOW EVERY TIME I TRY ANSWERING AN ASK FROM Y’ALL MY WIFI SHUTS OFF AND I GOTTA WAIT UNTIL THE NEXT MORNING FOR IT TO TURN BACK ON AND ACTUALLY POST MY REPLY FJJSSK 😤😭

1: Selfie

Uhh okay so I suck at taking selfies so just ignore the quality of this fjdckdk hi 👉👈 Tis I

- this image has been deleted for privacy reasons :) -

I DONT LIKE HAVING MY FACE ON THE INTERNET SO PLEASE DO NOT SCREENSHOT, I BEG THEE

5: Is there anyone who can always make you smile?

Omg YES. LITERALLY ANY OF MY FRIENDS, IRL OR OTHERWISE 🥺🥰 Just seeing them is like giving myself a serotonin injection, I'm just instantly 100 times happier

7: What was your life like last year?

Well let’s see, this time of year specifically... I was working on Inktober and posting on Instagram more (which I can’t do now bc my parents don’t want me on social media tumblr is a total secret shhh I ain’t supposed to be here 👀  ), and also I was getting SUPER excited for Halloween!! Two of my siblings and I dressed up as Ghostbusters lol it was so fun. Also I had a major crush on one of my guy friends but I hadn’t told anyone about it so it was kinda stressing me out lol.

9: Who did you last see in person?

(I would like to first say that where I live, the quarantine has been long since lifted, and the rules about wearing masks are pretty lax which is kinda weird but okay? . I feel so bad talking abt seeing my friends in person bc I know a ton of places haven’t lifted restrictions yet and how much some of y’all miss seeing your friends ;-; So I apologize in advance. If I start talking abt my friends I could go on and on but I'll try to keep it short for y’all’s sakes)

I last saw my friends from church youth group!! We had a special Bible study today so we all got to hang out afterwards and have apple cider ^v^ I see them every Sunday at church and I swear they’re the only thing I live for these days

16: Have you ever wanted to tell someone something but didn’t?

Oh gosh, more times than I can COUNT 👉👈 For instance, that crush I mentioned earlier? I didn’t say anything for five and a half months (we’re dating now tho :’D I don’t deserve him)  OH YEAH and also today I was sitting next to one of my guy friends and we were talking, and I REALLY wanted to tell him how pretty his eyes are lol. Like they’re greenish-bluish-grey colored, but with dark brown flecks in them?? And his lashes are really long and thick and??? He just has really gorgeous eyes??? But I didn’t say anything bc I thought it’d be weird ahaha 😔

23: Fear(s)

NEEDLES, blood and guts/gore (if it’s not irl/live-action I'm good tho, also periods don’t bother me for some reason), and being rejected. Well not really rejected I guess, but like... brought down? Like again about the eyes thing I didn’t wanna say anything bc I figured he’d be like “...okay. That was weird. Why’d you randomly say that lol.” and like I don’t kNOW?? I’M JUST RANDOM AND I LIKE COMPLIMENTING PEOPLE 

Kinda like that? Idk if there’s a word for it lol

29: Favorite film(s)

Uhh I don’t watch movies very much but I love the Star Wars films, all the Marvel ones I've seen, and omg Spiderman: Into the Spiderverse. Bruh the animation in that movie is STUNNING!!! 😭😭 It’s just 100% gorgeous, I fell in love

33: Something you want to learn

I’d love to learn how to sing well... I really like singing but I'm not good at it at all lol. I’ve also always wanted to be really good at ice-skating 🥺🥺

41: Relationship status

Taken! And extremely in love lol

50: Favorite picture of your idol

...okay so. I had to sit and think for a while and figure out who my idol is lol. I’ve never really had one. But I guess an idol is just someone you wanna be like, right? So it doesn’t have to be a real person... right? :D

So here’s a couple pictures of my idol!

Yep. Samwise Gamgee! He’s such a sweetheart 🥺 Sticks with his friends through and through, literally an angel, good at gardening, takes care of himself AND his loved ones... I love him sm, he’s my favorite hobbit 🥺💗

56: Favorite food(s)

I will go for Mexican food any day, any time. Also Italian food. And I've never met a dessert I didn’t like. (Chocolate is the bomb, tho. Anything chocolate) And I'll never turn down fruit.

58: Description of my best friend

Okay I couldn’t pick one best friend so here’s a brief description of my closest irl friends lol RIP I’m so indecisive 😭😭 I gave them fake names too lol Just for kicks

Nova: Hufflepuff, shortish gal, slightly chubby, good sense of humor and sass, always gets me and my sis tons of food when we visit her 🥺

Michael: Hella tall dude, like over six feet lol... Ravenclaw (like moi), acts tough but a huge sweetheart. Literal gentle giant. Bottomless appetite. Kind of intimidating but does the cutest things sometimes

Lucifer: Pretty Eyes Boy from above, Gryffindor, kind of a stinker, likes poking fun at people, Michael's younger brother (also over six feet tall skjdkds). Also bottomless appetite. (These two would eat anyone out of house and home I swear, I don’t know how their mom feeds the whole fam)

Chris: Tech genius, Hufflepuff, socially awkward but super cute and friendly with ppl he knows, never used to be a fandom geek but we roped him in and he’s DEEP in the fandom land now 😂

Gabriel: Kinda looks like Mirio from BNHA but with brown eyes or Tsukki from Haikyuu but with his hair more 80′s styled, Hufflepuff, says he’s almost six feet tall but he’s like five and a half really, another sweetheart, amazing singer, theater kid, my bf

Nicole: ANOTHER Hufflepuff (they're taking over the world I tell you), farm gal, super tall, reminds me of a cow or baby deer bc she’s literally the sweetest thing 🥺 Has like a million cats, loves animals. She got me into anime and Harry Potter and convinced me to read LOTR and watch Star Wars (she’s a Godsend I tell you)

59: Why I joined tumblr

WELL I needed an outlet for my creativity, since it was quarantine and all and I wasn’t allowed on Instagram anymore... I kinda did it on a whim. Plus before I made an account I'd been binge-reading all of @bluebellhairpin ‘s Marvel stuff and I was like huh she seems really cool... I should follow her. So yeah! Here we are! :D I’ve had a great tumblr experience so far and I'm definitely glad I came here, I hope I never have to leave :’)

[achieveandhunt]

live typing extra life 2019

warning: this a fucking LONG post. if you plan on reading it all, godspeed.

i typed all of this as it was happening on stream so this gets progressively less coherent as i grow more sleep deprived. prepare yourselves. i may or may not go off topic at some points

larry vehemently vomiting pure malic acid. we’re off to a great start

what the fuck the soggy ass popcorn in that ranch jesus christ

lindsay in the song from AH the musical. i love her so much

jeremy going YAAAAAAY after someone eats a cursed oreo

matt getting AGGRESSIVELY kissed by larry

“this kiss this kiss” before geoff and jack kiss

geoff “i’m from alabama” ramsey

THIS FUCKING RANCH SEGMENT HAS ME GAGGING

jeremy “the alcohol demon the whiskey goblin” dooley

alfredo “you wont believe what the white people did today” diaz

DUSK BOYS DUSK BOYS DUSK BOYS GET THAT DICK ESSENCE

wait why does it sound like wonderwall

they look like characters from the matrix

the speaking parts. make my teeth hurt

in conclusion: they weren’t kidding abt the tight pants 

okay everyone get ready for eric soundboard spamming YEAH BABEY

“hi i’m from broadcast and i don’t want to be here” they represent themselves well

also, let’s take a second to appreciate broadcast here!! they have a really tough job and don’t get a ton of credit. lots of love to all of broadcast!!! you guys are awesome

i am: foreseeing problems with this eric sound board

which one is eric?? will the real eric please stand up?? was the real eric the one we found along the way??

“i’m... just really worried that i won’t ever find love-” “i really don’t care”

WHY DO THEY HAVE THAT ON THE SOUNDBOARD (what does that apply to? whatever it is you’re thinking of, but mostly “daddy wants some”)

ooh someone’s about to get a fReE tongue piercing from a pineapple

god dammit i went to the bathroom for thirty seconds and now they’re eating chad’s chest hair

owie the shock collar and belly slap look painful, but drinking natty light from a shoe? that’s a true punishment

“and this roast was brought to you by meundies”

ah yes what better way is there to end a segment than people throwing up

“man action” oh no

THROBERT MULVEINY

K A R B is blind in T W O of her eyes

“my last name is cottagecheese”

I HAVE A PIECE OF METAL SHOVED UP MY A S S 

chris has somehow managed to lose 23 years of age and roughly 412 pounds

“just open throat like baby bird” who the fuck is writing this and why is it jeremy

jon. jon you’re breathing in adam’s ass fumes

a summary of this segment: ass and cottage cheese

BARB IS HERE I REPEAT BARB IS HERE

“to fitness” -starts choking-

final fitness coach: tad, here to workout your issues so they can beat you into submission

“will you buy my wet” well i don’t see that on the raffle items

we’re back folks & i’m loving this walk around segment

moonball wall and gavin&michael will soon be reunited can we get an F in the chat

jeremy getting a borderlands tattoo is very on brand

what’s extra life without a little satan

“starvation army, putting lead back into paint, increasing childhood obesity” people in chat: TAKE MY MONEY

chris “i’m doing a different hole” demarais

ah yes. the game we all play in hell: twister

nobody edit chris getting mustard shot down his throat. i’m scarred enough from the original clip

oh fuck. oh god. the mayo. oh god what the fuck is up with the misuse of condiments this year

this just in: a human soul costs roughly $12,700

D̷̯͑̆̈́͝Õ̸̲͎̥̬͈̬̙͕̲G̸̢̧̠͉͚̙̲̙̓̔̀̇S̷̥̀́͆̈́̇̀ ̶̣̞̗͚̬̭̖̦͇̈́̎̈́̿̓̈́͆̒̋D̷̙̟̩̫͉̺̐̊̚Ö̶̥́̋́̓ͅĜ̵̞̌͋̏̉̌̕͝͝S̵̤̹̣̫̮̻͛̍̑̕͝͝ ̷̧̨̞̙̥̟̜͍̉̍̑̏̇̀̾D̴̻̮̩̯͓͉̖͎̘͐̒͋̓̉͝ͅỎ̶̰͓̳̥͑̅͛͊̒͐͊͘̚G̵̩̻̦̥̠̃̔Ş̶̹͚̩̱͖̀͆͘ ̸̢̢͇̻͔̗̺̼͖̱̏̾̔̚D̴̨̨̫̙̃̾̋̾̆̓̓Ớ̷̡͓͎͊G̶̱̣̣̰̝̖̰̗̓͐̐̊͋̀͊̀̕͝Ş̷̩̺̬̖͙̺̟͗̈́͒͗̀̑́́̕͠ ̷̡͈̼̲͈̳̫̺̝̈́̋͌͗̒ͅD̸̨̬̞̪̗̘̄̑͆̿̈́͘͠͝O̸̡̡͇͕̻͎͍͉̅̌͗̄͌̑̉̔͂̎Ḡ̸͙̟̪̞̬̬͕͐̈̏S̶̝̪̼̮̠̜̭̳͖̘̑

urine: to help with aerodynamics

jon: maya, speak! maya: *the smallest arwoo*

today’s mvp: any dog. pick one. no matter which you pick, you’re right

how the fuck did blaine change back from satan so quickly

barb as a cat is... my new sleep paralysis demon

blaine: barbara speak! barbara: climate change is real

#dogsforkids

this just in: extra life killed my wifi

we’re back & kdin is in the business of killing people with spice. she is the spice queen

queue six thousand well-timed 1337 donations

HOLY SHIT THAT’S COLIN FROM WHOSE LINE IS IT ANYWAY

hmm “questionable liquids” is very... questionable

trevor: oh there’s four of them! we all get to join in the Fuckkkk

“what’s your favorite kind of candy” “any meat”

i like pickles and i would rather rip my eyebrows off than drink the juice so i feel for trevor

the only thing worse than drinking apple cider vinegar is shooting it out of your nose

“can you feel the love tonight” “i used to and that’s the problem”

“flubs every word man” damn, really missed the chance to say captain hair

jeremy not being able to intentionally flub his words is so fucking funny

OK BOOMER 

wow i can feel my blood pressure spike just watching these shots

Xavier Woods is here and he wants to know if it’s Christmas

miles doesn’t know what a question is

WHERE’S YOUR HAIR

oh no. oh no helping hands is next. everyone clear a splash zone

CHEF MIKE CHEF MIKE CHEF MIKE

miles bossing around chef mike is priceless

“you leave that fucking dough on the floor”

“you wanna slam your hands down on the table” *pizza sauce goes flying everywhere*

HOEDOWN HOEDOWN HOEDOWN jesus why do i keep doing that

“If Colin Mochrie is listening, I’ll see you here next year” OH FUCK YEAH

--- this is when i take a break so my soul can return to my body (aka i have work to turn in. college will never not be a pain in my ass) ---

oh god dammit i missed all of Always Open. fuck college who needs a medical degree

so... we have some very interesting things happening in family feud and i’m not sure if i like any of them

hmm. is now the time to get drunk

oily twist feels very... ominous

what do you mean you don’t remember gandalf having a taser in lord of the rings?

someone in the chat said “big stupid sleeping thing is what my parents called me in high school”

i think i’m blacking out what’s going on i don’t remember the past two hours

ah yes. voldemort and snape having a talk show together sounds exactly like something J.K. Rowling would make a spinoff book or show or porno of

can we just talk about how much shit chris has been doing this year? what a guy. what a dude

“coldy with voldy” actually means getting knocked the fuck out cold because you only got three hours of sleep last night and you don’t want to miss chef mike and lindsay cooking

this snape poem is summarized by one phrase: “that was terrible sit the fuck down” (sorry chris)

“let’s destroy a weasley” enter chad

fucking called it

“you smell poor” i need a caffeine drip

heh the wheel spins are at 69 heh nice

i’m a grown ass woman

welcome to a section called: we torture chad for your entertainment

“who wants us to kill weasley?” *massive cheers from the audience*

“wait weasley step away from the wideshot so i can masturbate to this later”

“i’m not gonna rub my eye mom”

oh they’re really gonna kill chad on stream huh

i felt that chest slap in my soul

i think i felt my own ribs crack

oh fucking

tumblr deleted my thoughts on the fanfic section

alright. fine. brief summary: my teeth are burning

my mom lindsay is on next and i’m so excited but i’m nearing the point of loopiness so things will go downhill dramatically from here

this is my fucking fourth extra life, you would think i’d be smart enough to sleep the night before

LINDSAY LINDSAY LINDSAY THAT’S MY MOM

JEREMY JEREMY JERE- wait a second... did jeremy get taller

oH CHEF MIKE CHEF MIKE CHEF MIKE

i hope Xavier comes back next year because he’s funny as fuck

m y a t t

oh god the mcdonald’s shade i’m rolling

lindsay “who’s the chef here” jones

chef mike mentioned mayo and i involuntarily gagged

chef mike clowning the big mac. i’m crying

he made the right choice with ryan bc i’ve seen his cooking stream(s) and it’s nothing if not great content

i heARD A MICHAEL JONES

“lindsay you haven’t done anything but warm up cookies so far” “yeah and?? you’re welcome”

you know that classic snack. slightly warm oreos

JEREMY THE LIQUOR GOBLIN DOOLEY IS BACK

oh god him screeching across set is making me cry laughing

why does it remind me of trevor’s voice cracks in the one minecraft ep where they’re singing the lion king

the biggest spoon for the smallest shot glass

i just realized we’re not even halfway through yet and i’m scared for the length of this list i’m gonna end up falling asleep involuntarily at some point

lindsay no your teeth are going to errode from that shot in your mouth

well timed leet donation #1829495

this gorden ramsey bit is so fucking good

jack: what do you think of the arugala? matt: i don’t even know what you said

iT’s NoT jUsT tWo CoOkIeS miCHeAL

jeremy and michael just chillin amidst the choas is exactly my demeanor at any party i’ve ever been to

lindsay scores: ryan = 7 because diet coke, matt = still eating lindsay’s meal so it’s a 10, xavier = also still eating it so it’s an 8. total: 25

“deep fry everything but a remote control”

chef mike scores: ryan = 9 for no death, matt = greens are present, words were said, score is 8. xavier = Gourmet Mcdonald’s, food is edible, score is 8. total: 25

oh fuck it’s a tie

now they fight to the death. death = doing as many shots as possible

i think we’re all going to need liver transplants after tonight

no jesus please don’t vomit oh goD oh fUc k please- oh thank god

okay i’m making a part two this is too much

[even-lovers-drown]

DO YOUR WORST

tagged by @blunts182​ (I need you to imagine a row of sparkly heart emojis bc I’m on my laptop so I can’t type them in)

1: Could you go the rest of your life without smoking a cigarette? Haven’t smoked one yet, hope I never do 2: Are you single/taken/heartbroken/confused? Very single 3: What if I told you that you were pretty?  Ahhhh, I’d probably be really awkward about it and compliment you back 
4: Ever been told it’s not me it’s you?  Nope 5: Are you interested in anyone right now?  Yes, but idk I think I’m starting to give up on it 
6: What are you looking forward to in the next week? New episode of Riverdale?? Also hearing back from a job interview I had 7: Do you want to be single?  I like my independence and I appreciate my quiet me time, but I think I’ve been single for a fair while, done my share of figuring out who I am and all that, think I’d like to be in a relationship tbh 
8: Did you go out or stay in last night?  Stayed in, I was finishing my Riverdale binge 
9: How late did you stay up last night? Probably til a little past midnight? 
10: Can you recall the last time you realized you liked someone a lot?  Yeah, it was a few weeks ago on my uni trip. This girl who I kinda thought was a bit vacant and bitchy is actually incredibly sweet and intelligent, really lovely girl. 
11: Last three things you had to drink? A cup of spicy tea this morning, I had a lil glass of mixed whiskey last night, and probably a cup of hojicha tea 
 12: Have you pretended to like someone?  Hm, to a point. Like I’m friendly with everyone even if I don’t like them. I don’t think I’ve ever pretended to like anyone, I’m usually pretty straightforward unless it would be rude or unprofessional in the context 13: Have you ever told somebody you loved them and not actually meant it?  I hate to say it, but yes. 
14: Honestly, has anyone seen you in your underwear in the past 3 months? Oh absolutely. I live with two girls and we’re all pretty comfortable with eachother. 
15: Is it hard for you to get over someone?  Hm, yes. I think the main thing is that I tend to struggle with the principle of it, I tend to use it as an excuse to put myself down. So I’m working on that. 
16: Think back five months ago, were you single?  yessir 
17: What were you doing at 12:30 this afternoon?  Cooking 18: Hold hands with anyone this week? I think so?  
19: Could you go for the rest of your life without drinking alcohol? I barely drink it now, I reckon I could give it a good bash  
20: What would you name your future daughter? I love really classic names like Alice, Lucy and Emma that remind me of books I love.  
21: Do you miss anyone? My best friend lives ages away, and my other best friend is halfway across the world, so I miss them both tons 
22: Have you kissed three or more people in one night?  Nope 23: Did your last kiss take place in/on a bed?  Nope 
24: Are you good at hiding your feelings?  AHH YES? NO? Idk dude. Like I’m pretty good at putting my emotions aside for a certain time and putting on a smile, but like...if I can’t be bothered, it’s all over my face. I’m so transparent, it’s so not in my nature to hide anything 
25: Have you ever cried from being so mad?  AGH YES. Definitely 
26: Who did you last see in person?  I think it was my friend Emma? 27: Are you listening to music right now?  Yeah boiii  
28: What is something you currently want right now? My dang flatmate to come home so I’m not alone in this house 
29: What is the last thing you said out loud?  “These taste stale” - on the gingerbread stars I bought from Coles 
30: How is your heart lately?  I eat pretty healthy, apart from the terrible addiction to sugar, so probably fine. Listen, it’s still beating so if it stops, that’s a problem for future Jess 31: Do you wear the hood on your hoodie?  I literally only own one hoodie and I mostly just sleep in it, so nah 32: Are you wearing socks?  Not currently 
33: What do people call you?  Jess, Jessica, Jeh, Giuseppina, my younger sister and cousins can call me ‘Jessie’, and they’re pretty much the only ones I let call me that.   
35: Are there any stressful situations in your life?  The state of being alive 36: Who did you last share a bed with?  A drunk friend 
37: Did you do something bad today? I ate a rly unhealthy breakfast  
38: When was the last time a member of the opposite sex hugged you? Like, a week ago? 
39: Do you get stressed out easily?  :))))))) yes 41: Have you ever wanted to tell someone something but didn’t?  constantly 
42: Who do you go to when you need to talk to someone? My mum, or I just hold it inside 
43: Have you ever been taken to the emergency room in an ambulance? God not since I was a child, and never in an ambulance 
44: What are you listening to right now?  Mustang Kids by Zella Day  
45: What is wrong with you right now?  My knee is totally stuffed and I probably need to go to a doctor tbh 46: What is on your wrists right now? Nothing, usually a hairband 47: Where did you get the shirt/sweatshirt you’re wearing? The Netball championship in Sydney a few years back 
48: What do you like better: hot chocolate or hot apple cider?  Ahhh depends how good the hot chocolate is. Usually apple cider, but if it’s like that hot chocolate in italy and france and stuff, the rly thick stuff? Well a bitch might change her mind 49: Do you make wishes at 11:11?  My birthday is 11/11, of course I make wishes at 11:11 50: Are you a good artist? I think I’m okay, I haven’t been drawing that much lately, although I did draw the characters from riverdale the other night when I couldn’t sleep 52: Do you miss the way things were six months ago? Nah m8  
53: Ever been on a golf cart?  I have not, I’ll add it to my bucket list 
54: Do you have trust issues? Ahhhhh yes and no. I kind of open up to people, but without really trusting them? If that makes sense? Like I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop, and I expect them to turn on me in some way, but I still open up to them and stuff? 56: Do you own something from Hot Topic?  If I lived in America, almost undoubtedly. But no, I do not. 
57: Do you use chap stick?  Always. Ya girl LIVES off burt’s bees 58: Have you ever slapped someone in the face? Only on a stage my friend 59: Do you have a little sister? Yep! She’s 12, and her name is Olivia and she would kick my ass in a fight 
60: Have you ever been to New York?  Does it count if someone I know with the same full name as me has been? (No I haven’t) 61: Think of the last person who said I love you, do you think they meant it?  Yep 62: Have you hugged someone within the last week?  Almost definitely 
63: What were you doing at midnight last night?  checking my clock and closing my eyes 
64: Have you ever regretted kissing someone?  Boy howdy you bet I have 
65: Is there one person in your life that can always make you smile?  Nope 
66: Were your last three kisses from the same person?  I don’t think so 
67: Have you kissed anyone in the last five days?  Nope  
68: Would you rather sleep with someone else or alone?  Depends on my mood and how big the bed is and how hot it is 
69: Will next Friday be a good one? I’m either gonna be working, or I’m gonna be going to a party, we gon see I’m gonna tag @relatablealien @moonum @forestexplorer

[izthecannibal]

Take Over for Me (Part 2) - G-Eazy x TWD Imagine

Part 1

Part 3

Part 4

requests: Okay so Ive had this in the back of my head for the longest time and I just wanted to share it with you BC I love you: so imagine if Negan had a son (like Geazy the rapper BC THEY TOTALLY LOOK A LIKE) and like you and him fell in love but can’t be together BC you both are on opposite sides.. I’m so conflicted and convinced that Geazy is Megan’s son or Neagn is old geazy LOLOLOL

You need to do a part two of take over for me!!

pairing: g-eazy x reader

a/n: i wasn’t expecting anyone to like the first part of this let alone request a part 2 so that was kinda shocking but ya know i had fun writing this and i hope you like it :-)

word count: 1,391

tagged users: @deeindarkwonderland @namelesslosers 

You had never cried as hard as you did when your suspicions were confirmed: Glenn was dead. Maggie was gone, and so was Daryl. Rosita and Sasha were messes--each in different ways. They all had a way of taking out their frustration; some more pleasant than others. 

Maggie and Sasha never came back to Alexandria. You hadn’t seen them since the line up, and you weren’t prepared to face them. You feared a mere glimpse of you from their perspective would make their blood boil in memory of what happened the night you were taken from them. 

Rosita was there when you couldn’t sleep alone. She told you she hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since Abraham left her, and that she’d much rather have someone there to keep her company. You never admitted it, but Rosita felt more and more like a mother to you as each day passed. 

You had no idea Daryl was at the Sanctuary the same time you were. If you had known, you wouldn’t have left until he was by your side. According to Gerald, Negan was going easy on you. If that was him being lenient, the thought of him being angry made your stomach ache. 

Gerald told you he would visit sometime. A week had gone by, and you still hadn’t heard of him. He was probably joking when he told you he was going to stop by again, but there was something inside of you desperately hoping he was being serious. 

You didn’t go on walks anymore. You and Glenn used to do that while Maggie napped. He would ramble on and on about how excited he was to be a father, but you also knew that he was terrified. There was no way you could really prepare for having a kid, and the situation you were all in didn’t ease his nerves a single bit. 

Instead of strolling around Alexandria, Aaron took you on supply runs. You were never as helpful as you were after coming home from the Sanctuary. The death of two of your dearest friends and the capture of another was enough to light a fire beneath you, though. 

You always knew every move you made was a risk. Before Alexandria, you were more prone to taking risks that endangered you more than most of the adults in your group were comfortable with. You were young, though, and someone was always linked at your hip to defend you if necessary. 

As you grew older and became more experienced, you became harder and harder to scare. The things that once scared the life out of you were no longer seen as threats in your eyes. 

As you became acclimated to Alexandria, your invincibility began to wear off. The things that you were once willing to risk your life for no longer seemed worth it. Before, you had nothing to lose. In Alexandria, you had it all made for you. 

Being helpless in the face of danger woke you up. You were no longer willing to stand back and let others do your work for you. You had nothing to lose, and you were going to fight to defend your family, no matter what was at risk. 

It was late out, and Aaron was able to get the two of you inside a little shopping center. You were pleasantly surprised at how lifeless the place seemed. There were no walkers within sight of either of you. You both came to the conclusion that it was probably cleared out by a group early on, and nobody ever came back for anything. 

“The place seems empty to me,” Aaron stated, sweeping his eyes over the center one last time. You nodded, taking in the high ceilings and scratched floors. “I’m gonna go this way. Check out that area over there. Okay?” You nodded again, pulling out your knife, just to be cautious. “Yell if you need anything, and I’ll come running.”

“Same goes for you, big guy,” you joked. Aaron smiled at you and shook his head at the ground, the ran off in the other direction. You tried to read the letters hanging over the different stores and restaurants, but they were all coated in such a thick layer of dust. 

A sign across the way from you was so close to falling off the wall that you were hesitant to go near it. Ralph’s was written in cursive with what seemed to be red neon lights. The color was barely there, but you took notice of the plastic around the faded light and tried to imagine what it looked like before. 

Something about the way the sign hung so dangerously drew you in towards it, almost as if it was luring you into a trap. You grew up believing that if something was too good to be true, it was probably a lie. Nobody ever warned you about the things that look so terrible, but they draw you in anyways. 

You entered Ralph’s and were immediately overcome with the smell of booze. The floor was sticky beneath your feet, and your sneakers created a smacking sound each time they rose and fell from the ground. Aside from that, the place was in pretty good shape. 

From what you could tell, it was previously a bar. The back wall was decorated with shelves of beautifully crafted bottles of all kinds of alcohol. You were tempted to take one off the shelf, just to feel the glossiness of the glass. As you neared the bar, you heard voices coming nearer. 

In a state of panic, you ducked behind the bar, squatting so you were on your feet and ready to fight anyone who came at you, but low enough so you wouldn’t draw any attention into the bar. You were able to make out two voices; one which you recognized instantly. 

“Have you ever seen a shrine like this?”

“Yeah. Your dad’s.”

“No, man. These are so nice. Look at those bottles! They’re all engraved and shit.”

“Don’t let the companies draw you in with fancy bottles. Most of that external stuff is all a shit show just so they can get you to buy their shitty product.”

“Well, I don’t know where you’ve been the past few years, but I’m proud to let you know I haven’t paid a single dollar for anything; shams and real deals alike.”

The conversation between Gerald and another man was so innocent. They really sounded like teenagers, which was probably all they were when their lives were stolen from them. You began to think of what it must have been like to have Negan as a father, and for it to be normal. 

One of the men came around the bar, and it wasn’t Gerald. You tucked yourself behind a counter so you were out of his sight, trying your hardest to keep your breathing quiet. The man scanned over the rows of liquor bottles, stopping every now and then to pick one up and read the label. 

“Will you do me a favor?” Gerald asked. His friend nodded, turning to face him. “Grab me one of those apple ciders over there.” The man who you didn’t recognize walked closer towards you, picking up a bottle and handing it over the counter. “I got a cute girl to give it to.” You quietly sighed to yourself at his mention of another girl. You should have expected it, to be honest. 

“Did you hear that?” Gerald asked. You closed your eyes and mentally swore to yourself for letting your guard down so carelessly. The room was silent for a moment, but his friend shrugged. 

“I don’t know, man.” 

You could hear footsteps coming around the counter, and all you could think to do was draw your knife. Before you knew it, Gerald was in front of you, looking you in the eye over the barrel of his gun. 

“Jesus, (Y/N)!” he sighed, lowering the weapon. “I could’ve shot you!”

You smiled a little, admiring his concern. “Sorry. I’ll try not to get shot next time.”

Gerald smirked at your remark and set down his gun. He popped open the bottle of apple cider and rose it up to you.

“Cheers,” he whispered, “to the cute girl who seems to love making people want to kill her.”