#*puts them together like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich*

[mylifesjustacarousel]

hook’s sister and the serpentine

pairing: morgie le fay x fem!reader (requested!)

summary: you’re the little sister of james hook… and the girlfriend of his friend, morgie.

type: fluff

CW: none

WC: 1.8K

not proofread!

“Morgs, you know James is going to kill us. He hates the idea of us even being together.”

You sat down on Morgie’s bed, staring over at your brother’s empty one. You and Morgie had been together for almost a year, much to your older brother’s dismay. He was protective, but to the point of being over-bearing. No one was good enough for his little sister in his eyes, not even one of his closest friends, which made forming relationships of any kind difficult.

But, along with being Hook’s younger sister, you were also a member of the VKs… sorta. You were a member by association, but you didn’t really agree with all of the “villain” stuff. It made Morgie, and your brother, happy though, so you just learned to mind your business.

“Come sit with me. We’re just watching a movie, it’ll be okay.” He reached for you, making grabby hands. You hesitated before scooting closer to him, resting your head against his shoulder. “Fine. But, if he tries to kill you, I’m not stopping him this time.”

“He’ll come around, I know it.” Morgie wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling his cheek against the top of your head. You looked up at him. “Morgs, he tried to make you walk the plank.”

“He was just messing around… I think.”

The door slammed open, Hook walking in and setting his stuff down on his bed, his back turned to the couple. “Morgie Le Fay, get away from my sister.” He grumbled as he slipped his boots off, tossing them on the ground. “Come on, James. We’re just watching a movie.” You sat up, looking over at him. He turned to face you, a disgusted look on his face. “No, this isn’t happening.”

Hook crawled onto the bed, squishing himself between you and Morgie. “So… how’s it going?” he asked. You huffed, getting off of the bed. “You cannot keep doing this! We have not been able to hang out alone literally at all! It’s been ten months, James! Let it go!”

“Hook, I really-” Morgie started, but was quickly cut off by Hook. “You need to shush. Y/n, I am only trying to protect you. Feel lucky that you have someone there for you.” You stared at the floor, feeling slightly guilty. You understood what he was saying. But, if there’s something about the Hooks, it’s that they are all stubborn.

“James… I am not a baby. I love you, and you know that I do. But, I’m a big girl. I can handle myself, and I need you to trust me.” You put your hands on his arms, giving him the same puppy dog pout that you used to always get your way. You couldn’t help it, it’s a little sister thing. “Fine. But, I’m keeping my eye on you. Both of you.” he said, looking over at Morgie specifically. Morgie gave him a thumbs up, looking only slightly terrified.

Hook rolled his eyes, turning around to put his boots back on. “I’ll be back later. Clothes stay on, lights stay on, and doors stay unlocked.” You giggled, wrapping your arms around him. “Aye aye, Captain.” He gently pushed you away. “Enough of that. Stay safe, you know where to find me if you need me.” he said, ruffling your hair before making his way out.

“So… movie time?” Morgie asked. You ran over to him, jumping into his arms to press a kiss against his cheek. “I love you, my serpentine.”

You were sat with Morgie in the courtyard, eating your lunches together. “Morgs, we’ve been together for almost a year, how did I not know that you’ve never had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?” you asked, ripping your sandwich into two halves and handing him a half. “My mom never made me anything like this. In fact, she never really made me anything… at all. Is it good?”

“It’s salty and sweet all in one. Try it!” You pushed the sandwich towards his lips, encouraging him to take a bite. He hesitated before taking a small bite, his eyes instantly lighting up. “Holy serpentine, this is amazing. Can you make me one tomorrow?” You chuckled, leaning your head against his shoulder. “I would love to, Morgie.”

“You know, uh, Castlecoming is coming up soon. I was wondering if you, you know, had any interest in going?” He seemed suddenly fidgety, playing with the rings on his fingers. You blushed, sighing dramatically. “I’m not sure, no one’s asked me yet. But, I think if someone wants me to go, then they should ask me.” Morgie got up quickly. “Right, right!” He got on one knee, making your eyes almost pop out of your head.

“Y/n, do you wanna go to-”

“WHAT?” A voice screamed from the other side of the courtyard. The two of you looked over at the source of the sound, seeing Hook stomping over. “What are you doing?! Get up!” he yelled at Morgie, grabbing the fabric of his shirt and pulling him up. “Are you stupid? If you wanna be stupid, I’ll show you stupid.”

“James! James, he was asking me to Castlecoming! Maybe not in the best way, but it wasn’t anything else!” You stepped between the two of them, Morgie grabbing onto you. Hook narrowed his eyes at Morgie before letting his shirt go. “James, what happened to letting it go?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I’m sorry! I thought he was going to ask you to marry him, he literally got down on one knee.” You rolled your eyes, gently pushing your brother away. “Well, he isn’t, so you can go.”

“Sorry, Hook.” Morgie mumbled, still hiding behind you.

“It’s okay, Morgie. Just… don’t do that again. You’re going to give me a heart attack.” he grumbled, patting your shoulder before walking away. You turned around to face Morgie. “You know that he’s not gonna hurt you, right? He loves you, even if he doesn’t show it.” You booped the tip of his nose, his shoulders relaxing at your touch. “I know, I know. I just don’t wanna mess this up. I love you, and he’s my friend. There’s a lot riding on me getting this all right.”

“Morgie, you don’t have to worry about being perfect.” You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close to you. “I love you, no matter what. I also know that my brother loves you. Stop worrying about being perfect, I can tell that it’s driving you crazy.” Morgie took a deep breath, leaning into your touch. “I know, I know…”

Holding onto him, you pressed a kiss to his forehead. “By the way, of course I’ll go to Castlecoming with you. There’s no one else that I would rather go with.”

“You know, you’re really nice for a pirate.” he commented. “Yeah, yeah. This pirate just has a soft spot for you.”

“You said yes? Tell me you said yes, I don’t think I could stand seeing his heart broken like that. It’s like watching an abandoned puppy.” Hades looked over at you. You, Maleficent, and Hades were all sat in Uliana’s lair. Hades had become like a second older brother to you. Maleficent seemed like she could care less, but she truly had a soft spot for you.

“Of course I said yes! As much as I hate dances, I know that he’s really excited to go. He’s been really stressed lately, James isn’t making it easy on him.” you sighed, toying with one of the many rings on your fingers. You truly loved your brother with all of your heart, but he was going to drive your boyfriend to insanity. Hades shrugged. “He’s just looking out for you. But, I get it. I’ll tell him to lay off of the kid.”

“Thank you, Hades. Your efforts do not go unappreciated.” you mumbled.

“Trust me, I know.”

You got up, brushing the dust from the floor off of your knees. “Okay, I’m going to go find Morgie. It’s date night tonight.” Maleficent snickered, looking up at you. “Date night? What are you, forty?” You rolled your eyes, making your way out of the lair. “Yeah, love you too, Mali.”

On the way out, you ran into Hook. He came up to you, grabbing your shoulders. “Hey, I need you to follow me.” You looked around, absolutely confused. “What? I can’t, I’m going to go see Morgie.” Hook just shook his head, pulling a piece of fabric out of his pocket. “I need you to follow me, no questions asked, and I also need you to put this blindfold on.”

“Absolutely not, James.”

“Y/n Hook, I need you to trust me.” he huffed. You groaned, grabbing the fabric from him. “Okay, fine. But, I still don’t trust you.” You covered your eyes with the fabric, tying it around the back of your head. He took your hand once the blindfold was tied, starting to walk with you. “Where’re we going?” you asked.

“Like I said, no questions asked. You’ll know when we get there.”

It seemed like you were walking for literal hours until Hook finally stopped, making you bump into his back. You growled, reaching to take the blindfold off. He quickly grabbed your hand. “Not until I say. Have some patience, lass.” You felt yourself getting more angry as you heard hushed whispers around you. “I’m losing all of my patience, James.”

“Okay, okay. You can take it off.”

You ripped the blindfold off, your jaw dropping at the sight in front of you. The forest in front of you was decorated in string lights, making it look like the starry night sky above you. On the ground was a bunch of blankets and different foods, all of them being your favorites; including peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Stood right in the center of everything was Morgie. He grinned, walking over to you. “I know you said that I don’t have to be perfect, but I think that this is something that should be perfect, and it really wasn’t the first time that I did it. You’re perfect, and I think that it would be perfect if you were my date to Castlecoming?” he asked, nervousness seeping through his voice.

You squealed excitedly, jumping up and down like a kid on Christmas. “Yes, Morgie! Oh my god, this is amazing? Did you do this all by yourself?” You looked around, taking in every single tiny detail. “I had a little help from a certain someone.” Looking over at Hook, you raised a brow. He nodded, an almost unnoticeable smile on his face. “Anything for my baby sister.”

Before he could even process, your arms were around him in a tight embrace. “Thank you, you mean the world to me.” Hook rolled his eyes playfully, hugging you back. “Okay, enough with the sappy crap. Enjoy your little date.”

You nodded, going back over to Morgie. He cupped your cheeks, pressing a short kiss to your lips. “I made some of those peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I ate a few while we were setting up, but there’s still a few left.”

“You’re such a dork, Morgs.”

a/n: hook would be the best big brother ever, you cannot change my mind. thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed!! MWAH MWAH MWAH!!

taglist: @skellseerwriting @sleepyking @ljaylmaoo @lesbpotmurdocklokistan @yokolesbianism @eretsupremacy89 @descendantsramblings @thegoddessofnothingness

[keiteiken]

relationships worked like a tide; pushing, pulling, crashing onto land, never getting further than the sand and sediment it grabs back into it. those sediments trickle and float about, feelings adrift until it connects to land elsewhere. yūji's feelings feel a lot like that, as if the sand from his beach is floating about but he knows where he's going, where he wants it to go. often times those feelings and motions pull him towards megumi, the other boy being a source of comfort. there's just something about being in his presence that was undoubtedly comforting despite the lives they lived.

he hadn't meant to bother megumi in the middle of his book — whatever it was about, it wasn't a comic book or manga and there were too many words. he would have happily sat in silence with him, but megumi's attention immediately being 100% his filled him with a sort of gratification akin to a puppy being noticed by it's owner.

he beams, “hey there.” in all his cheeky boyish charm he can't help the grin on his face as he settles in for a while of silent reading time. his gaze goes back up to megumi, book closed now and a prompt to spend time together is presented. “ooh that sounds great. i'm hungry, yeah.” yūji is a bit reluctant to get off of him, missing the subtle body heat radiating off of megumi. “where d'ya wanna eat, fushiguro,” he offers as he is nowhere near a picky eater.

@gyoukukens / x❤️

[ms-demeanor]

how do you do so much stuff? genuinely. I have 50 prjects lying around and I'm doing none of them, I have 50 more I want to start but I'm not even getting the materials together. All I do is be tired and play video game (if I'm not mindlessly staring off into space). I'll get one or two things i want/need to do done per day, which feels like. not a lot tbh. Asking usually gets me a "get your shit together" which isnt helpful. I dont know how. If it was that easy I wouldn't be having this problem now would I. Anyway, hope you're having a good day or it gets better & thanks.

I have completely unmanaged adhd and no fewer than 30 background projects churning at all times that i use to procrastinate from unpleasant tasks and without someone here to tell me "hey wait you're going to hurt your back, chill out and let's go get some food" there's nothing stopping me from sharkmoding myself into exhaustion. This level of productivity is much more of a cry for help than a good use of my time but if I rearrange the entire bedroom and regrout the shower I don't get bored and I don't have to feel bad about not picking up dog poop in the yard.

Also i keep a list of "projects that i should get around to at some point" so when I find myself antsy and restless I can pick something from the list and work on it. That's my one genuinely helpful piece of advice here - put your to-dos or want-tos on a list so you don't forget that you thought this would be a good thing to do at some point, and it can help you to kick-start an activity sometimes if it's on a list.

But yeah i played color water sorter on my phone for four hours on Tuesday night while I was desperately mentally screaming at myself to get up and eat something with zero success (i fell asleep on the couch with the phone in my hand and woke up at three to make two grilled peanut butter and jelly sandwiches instead of the pasta I'd planned on).

Getting one thing done a day instead of getting 20 things done in a frenzy is the much healthier option for me if i can pull it off, and getting one or two things done per day *is* a lot, so i commend you for it.

And thanks! I am forcing myself to make some tea and eat some protein and that will probably help.

[novasintheroom]

Prince Vash arranged marriage AU headcanons - Part 1

Prince!Vash who grew up a free spirit and can hardly imagine getting married, let alone to a stranger like his brother, King Nai, is telling him to.

Prince!Vash who fights and fights and fights having to be in an arranged marriage.

Prince!Vash who finally gives in when war threatens between your two kingdoms, and the only thing either side is willing to do is have an arranged marriage – so both royalties have an eye on and a finger in each other’s pie. Vash loves his people more than his freedom, and he refuses to be the reason any of them perish in war.

He knows it’s a doomed marriage from the start.

Prince!Vash who is not stunned by his new wife’s beauty, or enraptured, or anything he expected if he ever got married. He’s heard about you. The eldest daughter of the kingdom – born to wield power, now forced to bend a knee and give up that right. You’re boring, that’s what everyone says, and he dreads that description more than anything else. But he does see the wheels turning in your head as you walk down the aisle, dress train dragging behind like a corpse. Like you’re still trying to find a way out of this. All grim-faced and tears in your eyes, he at least takes comfort in the fact that you’re just as miserable about this as he is.

No kisses are exchanged, only rings and sighs of finality. The newly bound kingdoms celebrate, and Prince!Vash is swept away in the festivities, getting drunker and drunker and not caring for the glares his brother sends his way. It’s his fault for this; the least Nai can do is let Vash get his woes out through alcohol and partying. Vash doesn’t care where you are – not now. Not until he stumbles to his rooms and is immediately sobered by the thought that it is his wedding night, and what that implies.

Prince!Vash who stands outside his rooms nervously for fifteen minutes. He curses Nai, bites at his nails, paces the length of the hallway while receiving strange looks from the staff. Then, comes to the conclusion that he’ll have to just grin and bear it through this, too, and opens the door.

You aren’t there.

You aren’t in the adjoining suite either, where your new rooms have been made. Perhaps you’re still out partying; doing the same thing Vash was to forget the awful situation you both found yourselves in. Fine by him. He heaves a sigh of relief and plummets into bed. He can’t sleep, though. Every set of footsteps he hears outside sets him on edge. Is it you? Finally come to claim your rites? He jumps awake at every noise for the next three hours, until, finally, the alcohol settles in him and he nods off at the break of dawn.

Prince!Vash who, despite his own feelings, tries his best to get to know you that first week after the wedding. But you’re slippery. Almost more slippery than himself. He tries talking to you, walking with you, even cornering you at one point, but you always manage to slip away with an excuse he can’t refute. There’s no nighttime visits between your rooms, no talking. You’re a stranger in his castle, just like you’re a stranger bound to him by rings and vows.

Until, one night, his sweet tooth hits, and he hops on down to the kitchen to grab a pastry. He opens the doors without preamble – the staff know him and his cravings – and is surprised to hear a quiet sound of surprise from the corner of the darkened room.

It’s you. With a peanut butter and jelly sandwich clutched to your chest. You’re dressed in your nightgown, hair askew and eyes watering and certainly not looking like the put-together princess he had married. He doesn’t look much better, and for some reason, it startles a laugh out of him. He’s surprised to hear you laugh back, a weird tension falling off both of your shoulders as you eat your treat and he finds his own. He stays with you long after you’ve both eaten, talking and getting to know each other without the prying eyes of the court or staff to hear.

It starts a nighttime ritual for you two – a way to get to know each other on your own terms. He’ll take a jaunt down to the kitchens, find you there with some sort of new treat, and get his own. Sometimes you'll even share the other half of your PB&J with him. He's split more than a few pastries with you. You’re surprisingly easy to talk with, and certainly not boring like everyone warned him. He learns a lot about you –that peaches are your favorite fruit compared to his strawberries, what books are your favorite, how much you hate the play The Archipelago. Vash shares his own interests in technology, how his solar-powered arm works, his taste in music, some stories of him sneaking out to the farmlands to be a farmhand for a day or two before Nai marched his ass back to the castle. He likes telling those stories the most. You have a great laugh.

One night, you confide in him how much you miss your family – your brother and sisters, how you were always the voice of reason to their antics, and how much you worry what the court is doing to them now that you aren’t there to thwart their schemes. Tears come to your eyes as you describe the grassy fields and tall forests you’d ride through in the fall time. Vash’s gut curls, and he makes a promise right then to do his best to make his kingdom a new home for you, rather than the prison you view it as.

Prince!Vash who takes you out to the city to try his nation’s foods as they should be – on the streets and in his people’s hard-earned businesses. Vash is popular with the people (far more so than his brother, you note), and most greet him with warm, welcoming smiles while he traipses through town with his new wife. He’s eager every time you try something new – bowls of blackberry yogurt with orange slices and granola, strawberry shortcakes, and his personal favorite, the apple cider donuts from Riri’s, sprinkled with sugar. Every time your eyes light up at a new treat, he’s delighted. Food is a great way to bond between you two, it seems.

Prince!Vash who learns how to share secret looks with you across the room in meetings. He’s always bored in them, despite how he tries to pay attention for his people’s sake. It starts with your quick, wide-eyed looks at him whenever one of the dukes or other nobles makes a particularly scathing remark about someone else. You twitch your left eye to ask him a question about the discussion going on, and he tugs his lips to one side and shakes his head. He blinks twice and rolls a shoulder to tell you the answer to another inquiry. Somehow, you get it. It’s the funnest time he’s had in these meetings in a while. Sometimes you’ll throw in a cross-eyed look to tell him ‘I hate this, this is boring, I can’t believe this, etc.’ Nai’s given him and you more than one look for the snorts Vash lets out.

It's hard to get used to this new situation. It’s hard to get used to the ring around his finger, how some days it fits fine, and others it feels too tight and restricting. But you’ve made it easier. You’re kind, and willing to be adventurous alongside him, and have a great sense of humor.

Prince!Vash who finally accepts…maybe…you two can be friends.

[moonstruckme]

Hello my fave lovely! Could I request a small something about teacher reader and Stevie coming to visit her classroom(maybe he’s a teacher too and they teach upper elementary school 9-10 year olds?)

Hi sweetheart, thanks for requesting! I decided to make Steve a PE coach instead of a teacher, hope that's alright :)

(slightly terrified some big mouth fandom I don't know about is gonna find this because "Coach Steve," but I'm taking that risk)

coach!Steve x teacher!reader ♡ 573 words

The projector always puts the kids to sleep, but you’re trying to keep them alert enough to retain what an object noun is when there’s a knock at your door. It opens, and Steve’s head pokes through. 

Immediately, your kids are wide awake. 

“Coach H! Coach H!” Their voices are bulldozing over each other, competing for Steve’s attention. “Hi Coach H!”

“Hey guys.” Steve grins at them, unphased by the effects of his celebrity. “Can I borrow Miss Y/N for a sec?”

The kids know well enough that it’s not a question for them, and they look to you as you put down your dry marker, giving them all a stern look. “I’ll be right outside this door,” you warn them. “If I hear any chatter, it better be about grammar.” 

Of course, no sooner do you close the door behind you than a buzz of unapproved chatter starts up in the classroom. You ignore it. Steve’s hands find your shoulders, steering you away from the classroom window and then pressing you against the wall with the force of his kiss. 

“Stevie!” you chide, breaking away and looking around you in alarm. Thankfully, the hallway seems empty. 

“I’ll be right outside this door,” he croons in a girlish imitation of your voice. “You’re so tough with them, babe.” 

“I have to be,” you reply. “They’d walk all over me otherwise.” 

Steve raises his eyebrows. “Otherwise, huh? So that wasn’t you I saw trading lunches with Maggie the other day because she didn’t want her peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”

You flush. “I like peanut butter and jelly.” 

Steve grins, kissing your warm cheek. “My sweetheart.” 

You roll your eyes at him as if he’s more annoying than endearing (you both know better, but the fun’s in the act). “What’re you doing here?” you ask him, crossing your arms. “You know how you rile them up when you come by. It’s gonna take me forever to get them back on task.” 

“Well first of all, I wanted to see you, didn’t realize that was a crime,” Steve says, grinning when you roll your eyes again, with even less feeling this time. He’s rubbing his hands up and down your arms, and soon he’s worked your hands free and is holding one in each of his. “And also, the second graders are testing today, so they’re not coming to PE. I’ll be free during your lunch.” 

You blink. “They’re having the second graders skip PE for testing? They’re going to be bouncing off the walls.” 

Steve shrugs. “Maybe they’re giving them extra recess after or something. I dunno, they didn’t ask me about it.” He squeezes your hands. “So, lunch.” A suave smile spreads across his face, and you know it’s meant as a joke but your knees go a bit wobbly anyway. “Wanna sit together?”

You bite your lip, but it’s useless; your smile can’t be contained. “Sounds good, handsome. My classroom? Eleven thirty?”

“It’s a date.” Steve leans forward again, and this time you oblige him, the kiss short but sweet enough to rot your teeth. “Okay, I’ve got fifth grade in five,” he says, letting go of your hands and walking backwards down the hallway. “Tell your kids I said to chill out.” 

“That’ll only make it worse,” you reply, laughing. “See you at lunch, Stevie.” 

He grins as he pushes the door open with his back, sunlight flooding the hallway. 

[agaypanic]

Could you write Reese x reader who has similar style to him but like the girl version? like he sees at her school wearing maybe a tight shirt with baggy cargos and he LOOSES it n NEEDS to talk to her. Thanks so much 🩵

I Like Your Style (Reese Wilkerson X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: For spirit week, you convince Reese to participate in twin day with you. Feelings arise when he sees your outfit.

A/N: the ending’s so bad bc i had no idea how to finish this, ive been having such a writers block lately. made them friends instead of strangers, hope that’s ok lol also modern au bc they have cellphones

***

“Please.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“Please, Reese!” You whined, following your friend around his house. 

“Spirit week is stupid! There’s no way I’m participating in that.” He shook his head at the idea, opening his fridge to find something to make for a snack. “Never have, never will. How do you feel about peanut butter and jelly?”

“Yeah, I’m good with that.” You answered, going around to sit at the counter he was making sandwiches on so you could be face to face. “Just one of the days, Reese. That’s all I ask.”

Reese didn’t answer until he had finished making both your sandwiches. He put your plate in front of you and took a bite of his food, mulling everything over.

“Which day?” 

“Tuesday.” You answered immediately. You knew it was the only day Reese would consider saying yes to because of how simple it was. “It’s Twin Day, so you wouldn’t even have to really dress up. You just gotta tell me what you’re wearing so I can match. Or we can go to the mall or something.”

“We’re both broke; there’s no way we can buy whole new outfits.” You snorted. Sadly, that was true. 

“So, will you do it?”

“Fine.” He said it somewhat reluctantly, but you still clapped with glee at the answer.

“Yay! Just tell me what you’re gonna wear, and I’ll try to find something like it. But just make sure you tell me in advance.” You finished your sandwich, slowly looking up at your friend with pleading eyes. “Can I have another?” Reese wordlessly took your plate, preparing another sandwich for you.

***

On Sunday night, you were lying in bed when your phone buzzed next to your head. You squinted from the brightness and saw a message from Reese.

Reese: how’s this?

Attached was a picture of him standing in the mirror. The outfit was pretty basic, just some baggy cargo and a semi-tight long sleeve. You mentally went through your closet, trying to put together an outfit of your own.

Y/n: that works!

Y/n: see you tuesday twin lol

Reese: already regretting this

Y/n: booooo

You shut your phone off, rolled out of bed, and went to your closet. With Reese’s outfit fresh in your mind, you picked out some pieces that would match well. 

Setting everything aside, you wondered what to do with your hair. Reese had frosted tips, a good look on him. But you didn’t feel like bleaching your hair; you didn’t have that much school spirit. Deciding you’d figure it out tomorrow, you got back into bed and quickly dozed off.

***

When Reese entered the quad on Tuesday, he tried looking for you. But you weren’t in any of your regular hangout spots. Assuming you were running late, he shrugged and found a place to sit down.

A few minutes passed when Reese felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to see you with a wide grin plastered on your face.

“Hey! I would’ve gotten here sooner, but these fake highlights were a bitch to clip in.” You rounded the bench your friend was sitting on so you were standing before him. “What do you think?”

Reese gulped as he took in your appearance. Just like him, you were wearing a tight shirt and baggy cargo pants that hung around your hips. The only difference with your outfits was that you tucked your shirt into your pants, accentuating your figure. A figure that Reese was now thinking about in a way that most friends wouldn’t.

The clip-in highlights you were talking about almost made him laugh. To mimic the frosted tips Reese sported, you bought some platinum blonde extension clips from Lucky Aide and scattered them throughout your hair. It was honestly a bit flattering that you had taken the time to try to mirror his appearance.

“You look…” Reese gave you one last look over before looking you in the eyes. “You look good.”

“Why, thank you.” You fished around in one of the deep pockets of your pants for your phone. “Okay, now stand up. I want a picture.” Immediately, Reese shook his head.

“That wasn’t part of the deal.”

“It is now.” You grabbed Reese’s hand and pulled him up, which he easily could’ve fought against. But you just seemed so excited; he complied when you asked him to pose for the camera. Reese even pulled you closer to him by the waist so both of you were in the frame.

“You should start dressing more like this.” He commented while you snapped a few pictures.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, you look hot.” 

You laughed, looking through all your pictures to find a good one to post later.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Reese.” The boy looked at your phone to see the sweet smile on your face as you leaned into him in the pictures.

Yeah, the feelings swirling inside of Reese were definitely becoming less and less platonic.

***

Malcolm in the Middle Taglist: @rattilol

[omgfiredragon18]

mom says it's my turn on the writing

Hey, this is my first contribution to the DOAI sitcom au after lurking for literally a month and a half-

Also this is my first fanfic on Tumblr so I'm sorry for any formatting issues

Anyway enjoy

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Alex remembered the days after that terrible Halloween: the panic, the curfew, the interview, the loss, everything. However, the thing they remembered most of all was the public service announcements. The warnings played almost every hour at the beginning of fall, warning the citizens of Eastridge about the Smiling Snatcher, the Eastridge Demon, Clyde. For months all they could think about at night were the phrases "You do not hear the knocking," "Do not trust anyone you see wearing this costume," and "Keep all doors and windows locked."

It used to scare them—the thought of something being out there. At this point, however, Alex couldn't help but whisper, "Keep all doors and windows locked," as they slid their window open. They then paused for a moment, fidgeting until the window slotted into place with a click.

They understood that this was probably a death sentence, but it was also the only thing they could think of to stay alive. A cool breeze started to slowly drift into Alex's room as they peered out of the open window and into the night, looking for any people or flashes of orange. When they didn't see anything, they let out a relieved sigh and walked out of their room, making sure to close the door behind them to try and fight the chill. 

The yellowing fluorescent light in their kitchen was on, illuminating the space. It had the essentials—a refrigerator, a stove, cabinets, a dishwasher, and just enough counter space to house an assortment of random nick-nacks. The lights hummed quietly as Alex opened their cabinets in order to retrieve a jar of peanut butter. It was the cheap stuff—a store brand—that stuck to the roof of your mouth. They then moved to the fridge. Letting their hand trace the scratches Clyde left in it the first time it had entered their home. Then Alex opened the fridge and pulled out a random jar of jelly. They weren't sure how old it was, but it didn't look like it was actively rotting, so it would work. Grabbing the bread, they made their way back to the peanut butter. Pulling out a butter knife, they began to spread the sticky substances across two slices of bread. Once there was a decent amount of each, they pushed the slices together into a sandwich. Taking the sandwich, they went back into their room only to freeze. 

Crouching in their window was a dark shape with a mouth full of yellow teeth and two crooked yellow eyes.

"Your window was open," the creature said with its many overlapping voices.

"I know," Alex said, trying not to let their voice show just how nervous they felt. This was not the first time that the Smiling Snatcher had entered their home, but they still had to fight off the urge to run and hide from it. Ignoring their gut instinct, Alex held out the plate to the predator.

"You're an idiot," Clyde said, finally entering the room and grabbing the sandwich. It took a bite and then walked past Alex. They flinched as the demon passed, trying to ensure there was no contact between themself and it.

Once the Smiling Snatcher had exited, Alex rushed over to the window, looking out once more to make sure no one could have seen the demon. Once they were sure no one was watching, they closed the window.

Making their way out of their room, they found Clyde curled under their table, still munching on the sandwich and rumbling contentedly. Phantom shapes clung to the edge of the room. Half-formed illusions that did nothing but put Alex on edge. Seeing as the hallucinations were only half-baked, Alex assumed they probably weren't going to die tonight. With this half-reassurance, they went over to the television and turned it on, letting the sound of a random channel wash over them.

They leaned back and closed their eyes, trying to let the stress of the day flow out of them. The auditory hallucinations in the Lankman Foundation had really started to get to them recently. The pleas for help were harder to ignore every day. They started thinking about their time spent in that red-tinted hellscape. The constant, unending feeling of being watched was soaked into the bedrock. The caretakers wandered the halls like robots. Sweeping through them, occasionally entering patient rooms. The whole place had a bad atmosphere that followed Alex long after they clocked out for the day. 

Their train of thought was interrupted as they felt the couch shift under them. They opened their eyes to see Clyde crouched next to them.

"What are you watching?" Clyde asked.

"Uh," Alex paused to look over and see what exactly they had been watching. The screen showed birds flying around a city while a cheery voice explained how pigeons use the shape of their feathers to help them glide.

"It's a documentary; basically, a person explains a bunch about a certain topic; um, this one is about birds," Alex explained. Clyde let out a little hum that sounded like radio static, tilting its head as it watched the television with interest.

They sat like that for a few tense minutes, just observing the birds, before Alex suddenly got up. "I'm gonna... go," they said, turning to the demon. The Smiling Snatcher twitched its tail in a way Alex took as a go-ahead, so they turned around and walked to the kitchen.

Once they were back under the yellow lights, they leaned up against the wall. Now that they were out of Clyde's sight, they realized just how hungry they were. Alex walked over to the fridge, opening it to see what they could find. They leaned into the fridge for a second, grabbing a string cheese stick and an entire head of broccoli. With a sigh, they grabbed a plate and mentally prepared to consume their "dinner."

As they exited the yellow-tinted room, they saw dark birds flying through the space. Ghastly apparitions that swirled around on imaginary air currents. Alex walked into the living room with their slap-dash meal to find that Clyde had disappeared. Alex froze, eyes scanning around as they attempted to locate the veldigun through the hallucinations. Their eyes then locked onto a splash of orange and black sitting in front of the TV. It was glued to the screen, its tail twitching side to side as it tracked the birds.

Despite the scare caused by the veldigun, Alex managed to make their way over to the table without having a heart attack. Forcing themself to ignore the illusions and focus on their food, Alex started to eat. Despite their attempt, however, they felt their eyes drifting to the strange companion they had seemingly gained. They wondered briefly when this unlikely allyship would end. It wasn’t like this could last forever. Even if the veldigun didn’t kill them, the foundation would. Shaking themself out of their thoughts, they continued eating.

That was until they noticed Clyde sitting straight up, its muscles tensing as the program lingered on a shot of one of the pigeons. Alex felt their stomach drop as they recognized the same posture their old family cat had used to make before it pounced. They started getting up, not even sure what they were going to do, watching Clyde freeze for just a moment before the television cut away from the shot. Clyde let out an annoyed huff and relaxed. Alex all but collapsed back into their seat. They closed their eyes and pressed their hands against them. After a long moment, they decided to try and go back to eating. Everything settled into a small moment of calm before the sounds of birds suddenly cut off, a familiar blaring alarm pouring out of their TV.

"As Halloween night begins to set in..."

Alex snapped their head up, noticing that all the hallucinations had frozen. Then ever so slowly, Clyde began to creep closer to the television, their eyes reflecting on the surface as they began to watch the PSA.

Neither of them said anything as the announcement began to play. The basic elevator-esk music was the only sound for a few minutes. It permeated the air of the house, seeping into every crevice. The only interruption was after rule two when Clyde let out an amused huff.

"Stupid humans think locking their doors can keep me out. If I really wanted to, I could break through any of their doors or windows."

Hearing this caused Alex to feel like a stone was dropped into their stomach. Of course, from their time at the institute, they learned about just how much stronger the veldigun were compared to humans. However, they never really internalized it until just then. If it could just break down anyone's door, then there was really almost nothing protecting them and everyone else in the town from the demon currently sitting in their living room.

"Well, of course they could be more dumb," The demon continued looking towards Alex with a grin. Alex felt their blood freeze as they stared at the veldigun in front of them. Suddenly it let out a laugh, or more specifically, a cacophony of different laughs all layered on top of each other like a sitcom's live audience gone horribly wrong.

The laughter slowly came to a stop, and Clyde got up, stretching themselves out like a cat, before they turned to Alex once more.

"Thanks for the sandwich." It then made its way back towards Alex's room. Alex found themself letting out a breath they didn't know they were holding. They then quickly stood up, only to almost collapse as their legs tried to give out.

Abandoning what was left of their meal, Alex stumbled over to their room, finding the window wide open once more and no trace of the Eastridge demon.

[ciaomarie]

Part 5: What Then?

It's finally Sydney's one year work anniversary! A little slice of fluff to tide us over. Quick summary of the last 4 parts- Its been about 5-6 months since The Bear opened, the slowburn is slowburning,, and Carmy wants to make Syd an shareholder. Please excuse grammar/spelling. My contacts are fizzling out.

Sydney woke up with cheerful expectation before her alarm rang. Today was her work anniversary or “workversary”. A year ago, she strode into The Beef praying that this was her chance to make something great with one of the best chefs in the industry. Then in a couple short months The Beef had closed, the process of The Bear began, and since it’s opening her hopes of creating lifelong memories for people and of obtaining a star seemed possible. The dream was becoming more concrete every day.

She got ready eagerly and grabbed the garment bag with her freshly dry-cleaned custom chef’s coat. More than just the significance of the day, Syd felt like something special was going to happen. Carmy had brought up this anniversary almost every day for the past week. Obviously, he was hiding something, and she was ravenous to know what it was. She tried every truth extraction tactic she could think of, from feigning nonchalance to making him a gourmet peanut butter and jelly sandwich, to shameless pouting. The last almost worked, but Richie walked by interrupting her performance. Carm snapped out of her spell and from that moment refused to hint about today. Richie teased her ever since and even last night he left a voice note impersonating her honeyed murmur “Carmy, pleasssseee tell me…I’d wouldn’t hide anything from you” followed by retching noises.

Oh, well. She liked good surprises.  

The morning was uneventful, but during staff lunch Carmy announced that it was Sydney’s work anniversary and Marcus brought out a sublime vertical carrot cake for everyone. He even made an additional small cake for her to take home and share with her father. It was so divine that if the cake was all she got, she would have been thankful, and she told him as much.

“Marcus, you are incredible! If you ever need a kidney, just make me this,” she moaned.

“I’ll remember that chef” he answered scratching his neck and bashfully ducking back into the kitchen. His crush on her was mostly snuffed out the night of Friends and Family, but occasionally those old feelings resurfaced.

As Sydney reached the peak of a blissful sugar high Carm asked her to join him in Natalie’s office. First a cake and now the mystery reveal!

They asked her to take the seat of honor, aka the comfortable chair, behind the desk. Nat looked pleased and relaxed, while Carmy was harder to read. His expression was a mixture of agitation and gladness as he drummed his fingers on his knee. For a moment they sat in silence.

“What is it?” Sydney blurted.

“Carm, tell her!” Natalie ordered with an exasperated smile.  

Taking a deep breath Carmen gushed forth,

“Sydney, I don’t even know where I’d be, where The Bear would be, without you. You put in a crap ton of hours without pay during the reno, you kill it in the kitchen every day, we created the menu together, the staff respects you, you kept everything running when I was sick and…and…we want to give you a share in the restaurant.”

Sydney slumped back in the chair, speechless and gazed at them her pupils dilated like saucers.

Natalie went on to explain further, handing her a contract.

“If you accept, your share would be equivalent to Carm and I. Of ‘course none of us will see additional income until we pay back Uncle Cicero, but we didn’t want to wait to make it clear that you are essential to The Bear, to our family.”

Carmy held his breath. He had been elated about this for days, but now he doubted. Yes, Sydney wanted a star, and she loved the work, but would she want to be tied to The Bear, and by extension to him?

Sydney sat up, clutching the contract, and shook her head in amazement.

“You’re serious? A share? An equal share?”

“Yeah, of ‘course” Carmy replied, his ocean tinted eyes imploring her to believe it.

“Okay” she conceded softly, her vision blurred with tears, and she stood up to embrace her now legal partners.

Natalie swooped in first with one of her famous hugs and whispered, “Thank you.”

Then Carm overwhelmed with relief pulled her close, his lips slightly brushing her cheek.

Just then someone tapped on the door and Natalie opened it. It was Uncle Cicero eating a slice of Marcus’s cake.

“Hey, Uncle Cicero, to what do we owe this pleasure?” Natalie enquired.

“Well, my lawyer said he sent the contract over this morning, so I just wanted to officially welcome our new partner to the business and to the family! Sydney you’re a class act and this one couldn’t have picked better,” Uncle Cicero answered with a wink at Carmy. Then he beckoned for Syd to give him a hug, which she did her face hot with a mixture of happiness and self-consciousness. She felt like she was an honorary Berzatto.

“Well, I got to head out. We’ll talk again soon Sydney,” Cicero said warmly and beckoned Carm to follow him.

As they walked through the restaurant and out to his car, Cicero praised his nephew for making The Bear a success so far, raved about the cake and most importantly for making their monthly installments. Then he said something very strange.

“Carmen, you’re doing this right with that girl. Wise to get the business side squared away first. Oh, and I got a ring guy, he could get you a good deal.”

Carmy was jolted from the hazy cloud of contentment that enveloped him since Sydney accepted the offer.

“Why would I need a ring guy?”

“Hey, I know young people do things differently these days. Some wait for years, but when you’re ready to get engaged I got a connect.” Cicero explained.

 “Well, uh, Sydney and I aren’t dating,” Carmy responded with a shade of longing in his voice.

“You broke up!?”

“We’ve never dated.”

“Then who were you seeing right before the restaurant opened?”

“Claire.”

“Who’s Claire?”

“She was from our old neighborhood; It didn’t work out. I was Alex Gonzalez during a lot of the reno. Why did you think I was dating Sydney?”

Cicero cocked his head, scrutinizing Carm with the intensity of an owl. That look would make Mike Tyson falter.

“Why do you think I thought you two were dating?”

Carmy blushed with a crooked smile, rubbing his chin.

Cicero sighed, got into his car, and rolled down the window.

“Don’t overthink it nephew. I could’ve been married to the love of my life if I wasn’t such a know-it-all manichino (dummy) in my youth.”

Carmy blinked, confused.

“But you are married.”

“Yeah, and she’s great. Not the love of my life though.”

With those words Cicero waved and took off.

Carmy stood for a minute to clear his mind before heading back inside. He knew Sydney was probably recovered from shock and waiting for him with dozens of questions about their new arrangement.

Also, would another hug be out of order?

[smileyerim]

i think i’m in love with you (i am!)

inspired by: 9:45-9:52 of this video. (“What if I’m making a wedding dress for my girl?”)

pairing: fashion designer!mark x model!reader

genre: fluff fluff fluff

length: 800+

warnings: none just love <3

net tags: @kflixnet @neowritingsnet

. . .

It’s no surprise to say that Mark loves you. From the moment you first walked into his studio, he knew he wanted to mean something to you. From the way your eyes lit up when looking through his sketches, to the way you listened so intently to his plans, to the knowledgeable comments you made on the hand of the fabrics Mark knew he was done for. He needed to know you.

Thankfully, he did. He asked for your number near the end of your fitting “in case any changes are needed” and you gave it freely, that made him happy. Not even 2 days later he’d texted you asking to take you out to coffee. You read and responded “yes” to his question immediately.

Now you’re here, 3 years later and more in love than Mark ever thought possible. He proposed to you last spring in the middle of a cherry blossom meadow after coming up with a fake excuse about a photoshoot. Considering you know your way around scenarios like this pretty well due to your profession, you saw right through him but you let him go on his little spiel acting surprised when he got on one knee.

You’ve been engaged for 6 months and wedding planning has been kicking your ass, and Mark’s new collection coming out in 2 weeks isn’t helping with your collective stress. Recently, you and Mark haven’t been spending time together. You’re busy with work preparing for fashion week and he’s doing the same with his own fashion show to put on. You miss him dearly, and he knows it’s been weighing on your heart how he comes home and immediately falls into bed.

You miss him, and today you’re going to do something about it.

Mark is very private about his studio space, he doesn’t like people in there who don’t need to be. You’ve only been in a handful of times, once being your first meeting, but you like to stay away as much as possible to respect his private space. It’s his space to be creative, let loose, decompress, you don’t want to get in the way of that.

Except today you will. After packing a quick lunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and bagged snack size chips and beer you’re on your way up to his studio in the old lift near the concierges desk. You wanted to surprise him for all his hard work recently and pull him away from the sewing machine.

Through the door you can hear him talk to himself and a smile creeps up on your face

“If I just cut it on the bias the drape will be nicer and will flow down the aisle-“

“Surprise!” You burst through the door to see a stunned Mark jump, make fearful eye contact with you, and then move in front of the dress form behind him.

“What are you doing here?” He stands still holding the dress form against his body behind him.

You giggle as you step up to him, placing the grocery bag on the work table in front of you.

“I’m here to surprise you with lunch! Aren’t you surprised?” You say.

“Definitely.” Mark says, still holding the dress form tight behind him. His eyes are wide and he doesn’t seem as happy to see you as you had hoped.

“What’s wrong? I promise I won’t steal your designs and send them to Prada.” You joke, leaning over to the side to try and see behind him. He leans with you, nearly tripping over himself to guard your sight.

He laughs a nervous chuckle, “I know, it’s just-baby, wait-“ you stand and move to his side of the table and finally catch a closer glimpse at what he’s guarding and a soft gasp leaves your lips.

“Mark,” he lets out a sigh and his head drops in defeat, “is that?”

“I was going to surprise you with it. I wanted to show you how much you’ve been on my mind since I’ve been away for so long preparing for fashion week.” He finally moves to step away from the dress form and towards you, and the wedding dress comes into your sight.

“It’s not done, this is just the sample so it’s not pretty but-“

He’s cut off by your arms wrapped around his neck tightly. Happy tears stain the neckline of his t-shirt as he holds you close.

“Baby, are you crying?”

You sniffle and look up at him, “Of course I’m crying! I love you so much, Mark Lee.” You say before landing a soft kiss he reciprocates immediately on his lips.

“I love you too.” He says softly looking into your teary eyes.

For the next hour Mark walks you through the plans he has for the dress, showing you samples of the satin silk and the lace he’s planning to use for different portions of the garment, allowing you to even pick out the buttons he’ll fix on the back. Two beers down and a lot of smiles and kisses later, you’re sure you made the right decision by spoiling his surprise.

[hysteria-things]

✿ PROMISE? ✿ PROLOGUE.

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ʚ♡ɞ

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chris x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: it’s always nice to have a day in the park with your three best friends forever.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 404

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: THANK YOU FOR 1,000 FOLLOWERS?!?!?! you guys are the best i heart you💕

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 pass by the window. you’re beaming with joy as your parents are in the front seat of the car.

you anticipate getting to the park, like how you do every saturday afternoon. every weekend is a park day with your three best friends. it’s truly your favorite part of the week.

the car comes to a stop in the parking lot, and your parents don’t have time to turn the car off as you unbuckle your seatbelt and open the car door. you go running straight to the playground, your mother's voice screaming out ‘be careful!’ as you trip on the grass.

there’s a handful of kids roaming around, but you're set on finding specific ones. you see a glimpse of three lookalikes and go charging toward them.

you run into chris’s arms first. “y/n!” he says in excitement, holding you tight.

nick and matt soon join in, squishing you in a group hug. your mom and dad eventually catch up, setting their things down on the picnic table where marylou and jimmy are. “can we please go on the swings?” nick says, putting his hands together in a begging manner.

“no! i want to go on the slide.” chris crosses his arms and pouts.

“let’s see what y/n wants to do.” matt says more calmly than his brothers, the three of them now looking at you for an answer.

you bring your finger up to your chin to think, then poking chris on the shoulder. “tag, you’re it!”

tag went on for at least thirty minutes, along with some other things little kids do at the park. after a few hours, it was time to eat before everybody headed home. you sat next to chris, happily eating your peanut butter and jelly sandwich with no crust. you can’t stand crust.

chris swallows his bite before turning to you. “i have something for you.”

he reaches into the small pocket on his shorts, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper and handing it to you. “open it!” he claps, waiting impatiently for your reaction.

you open the note, the handwriting sloppy as ever, written in orange crayon. his favorite color.

you grin widely, closing the piece of paper. you scooch closer to him and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in a side hug. “aw, chris! i’m going to keep it forever and ever.”

“𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄?”

“i promise.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx

[dancingdonatello]

I saw ‘03 Casey on your master list of ‘03 fics so I’m assuming your writing for him (if not I’m so sorry and ignore this ask 😅) but if you do can I get general headcanons on how 03 Casey would be on Valentine’s Day with his s/o!??!

2003 casey jones x gn reader

He forgets until two days before that Valentines is coming up.

Then he’s rushing to buy things for you.

After everything that’s been happening in his life - meeting talking turtles being one of them - he just wants to spend a calming day together at his apartment with you after giving you a bunch of gifts (and hopefully receiving some).

But before you come to his apartment, he sends his turtle army to put a bunch of post it notes on your windows. He did not expect the turtles to read them and write variations of “ew, gross” on all of them.

He tries to do an elaborate romantic gesture only for it to end up in flames. Literal flames.

He tried cooking dinner for you to eat when you came over to his apartment, but when you showed up and opened the door, heavy smoke hit you right in the face.

Well. He ordered pizza for you both instead.

He gets you a bunch of cute stuffed plushies that go together. The jelly side of a sandwich with the peanut butter side of the sandwich.

He also, of course, gets you a bunch of flowers. He picked each type of flower in the bouquet himself, so it looks nothing like how a florist would arrange one. But all that matters is that he looked at them, thought that you’d like them, and bought them for you.

He then puts on a horror film, claiming its romantic because you’ll be so scared you’ll be leaning into his side the whole time.

You both are equally as scared. He still tries to act like you’re more scared than him though. He’ll ‘save you’ by putting an arm around your shoulders smoothly and then immediately jump when a jumpscare pops up.

He promises to make it up to you next year and take you out to a nice dinner instead of cooking a super burnt dinner.

[steviewashere]

Nineteen and Learning How to Live

(also on ao3, rated M for below content warnings)

CW: Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Referenced Suicide Attempt, Please Read With Caution (Nothing Graphic, But Still)

wc: 1,996, Steddie and Platonic Stobin Tags: Post Vecna, Post Canon, Post Season 4, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, A bit Dialogue Heavy, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, and so are Eddie and Robin, Steve Harrington-Centric

(This is entirely indulgent for myself. Based on a real experience, so please be kind. But I wanted to share this anyway because it feels important, y'know?)

-------- It’s the week before the 23rd of December, 1986. And both Robin and Eddie have noticed an odd shift in Steve’s demeanor. He’s gone from happy-go-lucky to sort of shut-in and quiet. Hushed behind his own hands. Dimmer and more tired in the eyes. Pallor, now that the winter weather has finally reached Indiana. Snowed in and bundled up. Barely answering the phone. Picking at his food or overeating, there’s no good in between for him. 

And, the real kicker, there’s no way for them to truly understand what’s happening.

They aren’t sure if this is all some everlasting effect from the Upside Down. From venturing into Vecna’s lair. Or the residuals of his high school days. There’s no rhyme or reason to it at all. And he won’t talk. Dodges questions. Sighing or huffing or—sometimes—growling. Like the words get stuck in his throat, begrudging his conversation, all together silencing whatever he wanted to say.

So they’ve learned to stop asking about it. They’ve learned to let him have his space. To let him shroud himself in the darkness of his bedroom, underneath a blanket that hasn’t been washed in a couple months, with a rat’s nest on his head, and cold to the touch skin that is always dotted in meticulous goosebumps—but he refuses to grow warmer.

They thought it was seasonal. At first, they thought it was seasonal.

Because people grow withdrawn when the sun disappears. Or when the sun sets earlier than you’re anticipating. That’s just a reasonable response. Robin and Eddie are able to understand that.

But they grow to realize that it’s not. It’s in waves. It’s during the summer and under a pollen filled spring sky and under the browning leaves of oak trees. It happens when they make jokes about touching death, intimately and cautiously. Or if they suggest hanging out at the quarry, sitting at the edge, looking out across the water, watching as the stars twinkle above them. Or when they look down at the water…Steve instinctively reaches out to stop them from bending forward. And he never lets them use his car to take them out there.

And he refuses to talk about it.

And so a week passes. And they’re two days away from Christmas. And he is getting stir crazy. Becoming restless. Growing uncomfortable.

He asks to go on multiple drives. He asks for the window to be rolled down so that the cold breeze brushes back his hair and tickles his face. He asks for them to be honest with him, “Am I a better person? I’m okay, right?”

They think it’s silly and it’s foolish and off putting. But they answer, truthfully, down to the very core of their souls as beings, “Yes, Steve. Yes, you are.” And he breathes out something like relief, growing lighter, brighter, easier.

But he keeps asking. And it’s every hour. And they’re all growing restless.

However, right before 11PM on the 23rd, Steve asks that they go out to the quarry. With no alcohol or weed or cigarettes. With a couple baggies of pretzel sticks and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. To look at the stars and see what the water is doing.

Eddie drives because Robin hasn’t learned yet and Steve is still hesitant about taking his own car. They wear big puffer jackets and mittens and heavy-duty snow boots and beanies that threaten to swallow their face. He’s the first one out. The last one to sit. And the first to break the silence.

Steve dangles his legs over the edge. His hands pressed tightly together between his thighs. Heaves a breath. And darts his eyes over the horizon line. Quietly, “Tonight’s important.” He’s sitting between Eddie and Robin. Looks at them for a mere second. “An anniversary, I guess.”

They hum.

Eddie chuckles. “I didn’t forget our anniversary, did I? Is it six months already?”

He shakes his head. “No,” he breathes, “but it’s important.”

“What’s important about tonight?” Robin asks.

“Just wait a bit,” Steve ominously says. “I don’t want to talk for a while.”

So they go back to silence. Not comfortable. Not uncomfortable. Somewhere between stagnant and anxious. With the weight of patient waiting and impatient questions. A taste of something solemn, yet something lively and meaningful.

They hold hands now. Robin’s mittens are blue with snowflakes dotted across the wool, tightened at her wrist. Eddie’s are black with red stripes, a hole at the tip of his left thumb. And Steve’s are a neutral grey—they’re still starchy and stiff, apparently new and never worn. His thumbs rub circles over the backs of Eddie and Robin’s hands. And he sighs reverently amongst them. And he’s smiling softly, almost proud, not far away, but rather present in the moment.

It’s silent. Though, the water ripples below them like a leaky faucet dripping into the still fill of a bathtub. Trees rustling around and overhead. Wind clipping at their cheeks, tinting their noses a dull and subtle pink. 

Eventually, Steve lets go. He lays his left hand over his thigh. The other hand digging around for something in one of the deep pockets of his jacket. And what he does produce is a small pocket knife. It glints in the minuscule amount of light surrounding them. The handle worn down from being held so many times. He’s looking down at it. Bouncing it in his grip, testing the weight, they assume. And his eyes dim the slightest, but not fading completely. His teeth chew at his bottom lip.

Robin wants to ask why he has that. Eddie wants to reach out and take it from him. They both move to do so, their hands creeping hesitantly towards Steve’s. But he shakes his head, minutely and trembling. His breath leaves him in a small, quaking huff. He swallows as if consuming a baseball.

“I used to—“ His voice cracks. Clears his throat. “I used to use this when I shotgunned beers back in high school,” he admits quietly. “When life was normal. And my parents constantly argued and I needed something to help me silence it all.”

Steve pulls his legs up, bending them so that his chin rests on his knees. Arms wrapping around them, the knife still in his grip, but not unfolded. “And then, 1983 happened. 1984. And I graduated in 1985.” His lips rub against his jeans. Closes his eyes. “Met you, Robin.” He turns his head towards her, but doesn’t stare. Doesn’t look. Doesn’t let her own eyes acknowledge him. “Thought that maybe my life was just going to be food service and people who couldn’t stand me. Which, I’d get, y’know?

“But the bad shit kept happening. And then we were working at Family Video. And I was losing my parents approval at an even faster rate, especially since college season was finally starting up. I was getting sidelined. Couldn’t find anybody to date me. I shouldn’t have felt so dejected about that, since I had just turned nineteen and the world doesn’t end when you’re nineteen, but.” His next sigh is forlorn. “But my world was small. And nothing was changing. And I was just…I was just the same person I’d always been.”

They scoot closer to him. The air is heavier. This is it, Robin thinks. The answer, Eddie knows.

“I wanted to be different. I wanted to be better. Good. Whatever,” Steve says. “But it just wasn’t happening. I couldn’t figure out why. I couldn’t understand why I was bothersome to my own family or why I was getting shoved off by Dustin or why nobody wanted me, romantically, platonically. It just didn’t make sense. And the confusion kept growing. Until I was—Until I could only be bitter and hateful and…sad about it.

“I just grew sad.”

He opens his eyes and looks out at the water again. His legs falling away so that he’s sitting criss-cross. And both of his hands hold the knife. Still folded.

“December of 1985 came. My parents weren’t coming home for Christmas. Everybody was busy. I was alone.” Steve sniffs. “I was alone in my house. With nowhere to go or anybody to really talk to. And I was alone with my thoughts. And I was going crazy with the need to do something. So I grabbed some essentials.

“Wallet. Keys. Light jacket. Beanie. This knife.” He holds it up. Staring. “Drove until I grew tired of being on the road. Led me out here.” He exhales a large breath. “I was alone. So I—I began to think about doing stupid things. Stupid selfish things, that’s what it felt like. One moment I was sitting in the driver’s seat of my car. The next, I was standing right where I’m sitting, knife unfolded, no mittens on my hands. Praying. Hoping that it would be quick and I wouldn’t be found.”

Robin knows she gasps something. Not a word. Not a breath. Some wrecked, terrible sound. Something like surprise and complete understanding. Something like hideous sympathy. Eddie holds his breath.

“But when I had it angled to…y’know…I just couldn’t do it. I didn’t know why. I still barely know. Yet, when I listened in on the silence around me, I realized it wasn’t quiet. There was a weird sound coming from my car. Like a—a static? I thought it was my radio. It began to annoy me,” he iterates. “I stomped over, bent down, and leaned my head into the driver’s side. And that’s when I saw it. One of the walkie-talkies. It was…It was Max asking for somebody to listen to her talk, she had a nightmare, she was scared, she was alone. 

“And…I may not be a good person. I may not be a better person. But I know I’m some weird fucking babysitter. And I knew that I would do anything for any of them. That’s when I thought, too, what if it had been Robin? What if it was Dustin or Nancy or even Jonathan that I was speaking to? I couldn’t…There’s no way I’d be settled leaving everybody the way I wanted to, knowing what I know and hearing what I heard in Max’s terrified voice.” He shakes his head, swallows again, and looks over at Eddie.

“And what if I couldn’t be there during Vecna? Who would’ve gone under the water? Who would’ve pulled you out of the mess of dead bats? Who would’ve held Dustin during the hours of surgery you had to go through? Who would’ve been there to tell Max she did a good job or that you did a good job? To listen to your music and your campaigns? Who would've agreed with you when Dustin is being a little shit?” He looks back at Robin now. “Who would’ve been there to hear about your crushes and your terrible double VHS tapes and your rambles about god knows what day to day? Who would’ve loved the both of you the way I love you?”

He tightens his grip on that tiny knife. Gazes at the water.

“I know that I don’t make a lot of good choices. I know that I say things that sound too bitchy to be teasing sometimes. I know that there’s still a lot inside of me that I need to make up for. But I’m alive and I’ve survived and I have some of the best people in my corner. I’d be a fool to give all of this up. So…that’s why tonight is special.

“Because I’m alive.”

Steve raises his arm, the knife over his shoulder, and chucks it down over the side of the quarry. He fills his palms with Eddie’s and Robin’s. And he relaxes.

“And you’ve got so much life to live,” Eddie says.

And Robin can’t help but think that he’s right because, The world didn’t end when you were nineteen.

-------- <3

[reine-du-sourire]

Morningscape

Mornings at 97 Weston Avenue, Apartment #5 and subsequently at the Victoria Mall usually follow the same pattern each day, and Edward has the routine down to a science now.

7:15 AM. Alarm sounds. Edward rolls over, yawns, and shuts it off; if he's not quick enough, he gets a pillow directly to the face. Despite his half-asleep state and his bed being against the opposite wall, Cheslock's aim is formidable.

7:19 AM. Edward brushes his teeth, washes his face, and changes into his sweatpants and hoodie. His jogging clothes are folded neatly on his bedside table, making it easy for him to access them in the dark. There's a deal in place: Cheslock isn't allowed to let his pet rats into the room, and Edward isn't allowed to open the blackout curtains over the window before Cheslock's had his coffee.  

7:21 AM. Edward goes for a two-mile jog around the neighborhood. He meets up with Greenhill- a friend of his and the manager of the sports equipment store where they work- at the dog park, and they do a few laps of the trail together. Greenhill's own morning workout starts at 6:00 AM, which Edward admires but doesn't feel up to doing just yet. 

8:00 AM. After heading back to the apartment and taking a quick shower, Edward gets dressed for the day and starts cooking breakfast. Scrambled eggs on toast and a protein shake for himself, coffee for Cheslock. He's given up on trying to make Ches actually eat a proper meal first thing in the morning and simply makes some extra food. Nature will take its course. 

8:15 AM. Cheslock comes into the kitchen and slumps over the back of Edward’s chair, wrapping his arms around Edward’s shoulders and burying his face in his hair.

“Good morning, Cheslock,” Edward says, after swallowing a bite of egg and bread. “Sleep well?”

“Hmrphlllmmghph.”

“Coffee’s on the counter.”

“Mmmphhh.”

8:22 AM. Edward finishes most of his breakfast and lets Cheslock steal the last piece of toast. After a cup and a half of caffeine, the latter is slightly more awake and has managed to open his eyes all the way. 

8:25 AM. Edward puts the dishes in the sink and gives Cheslock a quick hug goodbye before heading out to catch the bus. His shift at Green's Sporting Goods starts at 8:45, but Edward likes to be at the Victoria Mall a few minutes early just in case. He uses this time to check his texts and emails on his phone- Lizzy usually sends him a cheery good morning missive.

8:40 AM. Edward arrives at the mall and heads upstairs to Green's Sporting Goods. Greenhill is already there and greets him. Edward gets to work; sprucing up the place and straightening merchandise for the first customers of the morning to walk in. 

10:30 AM. Cheslock shows up for his shift. Ultra-Violet Tattoos and Piercings is right across the walkway from Green's Sporting Goods, which sometimes makes Greenhill complain that Edward gets distracted, but Edward's usually pretty good about keeping his eyes on his own work. 

10:45 AM. Edward gets a 10-minute break, which he uses to grab a drink and stretch his legs a little.

12:00 PM. Lunchtime. Cheslock always prepares and brings lunch for the two of them. He's a fairly good cook, even if the food he makes is sometimes a little on the ���experimental’ side. Edward has since learnt that peanut butter, jelly, and mustard isn't actually that bad a sandwich combination. They're occasionally joined in the break room by their managers and other mall employees- Bluewer and Clayton from Midnight Owl Bookshop, and Redmond and Harcourt from Maison des Roses. The latter two always smell nice. 

Life is good. Edward enjoys these mornings. 

Part of my Victoria Mall / 97 Weston Ave AU

[moon-alight]

hiii! i love your writings a lottt!!

can i please request &team's reaction when they realise they forgot their anniversary with their s/o? doesn't have to be angsty, it can be funny/chaotic or however you choose! :)

thank youuu ✨️

Yay! Of course I can <3

Masterlist

&Team forgetting your anniversary

Warnings: bit of angst, crack

Word Count: 776

-K

-He received a notification on his phone about 12 hours before the day would arrive.

-Freaks the hell out!

-Stares at his phone and the notification for about 20 minutes before he starts to panic. He does his best to fix something but all he can think about it pizza and some candles.

-When you see the guilty look on his face you laugh at him because at least he put your anniversity in his phone, right?

-The pizza was literally the best, just so you know

-Fuma

-for your information. . . Fuma would've remembered if his phone didn't die and he lost the charger.

-He had so many calendar reminders but unfortunately, he wasn't able to receive them for the past week.

-Completely freaks out when you appear at his front door with a gift in your hands (he would be the type to smash the door in your face out of panic)

-Tells you honestly and you just brush it off because you know he didn't forget on purpose.

-Nicholas

-This guy doesn't even remember what day you got together, he never placed the date in his phone so he wouldn't have a clue

-Is in a casual conversation with EJ when he suddenly goes, "so, my anniversary is coming up. . ." And Nicholas gets a heart attack.

-Thanks to EJ he remembers but unfortunately a bit too late as his anniversary was today.

-Quickly buys flowers and appears at your doorstep at like 1 AM with the stupidest grin ever as he wishes you a nice anniversary.

-EJ

-My man is busy, okay? He has an entire team to lead and new promotions so yeah. . . he forgot.

-Maybe he wrote a reminder to himself and suddenly realized or maybe it was you who reminded him the day before.

-He totally plays it off as if he remembered, though. "Oh, yeah, totally didn't forget hehe."

-Calls Nicholas and hopes he has a good idea on how to fix this but lets be honest, whatever these two think about together is the weirdest stuff on Earth.

-Don't be surprised if EJ appears with a rabbit on your anniversary because Nicholas told him "Chicks dig bunnies."

-Yuma

-This guy didn't forget, he never knew anniversaries were a thing.

-I mean, he saw it in movies and always thought it was ridiculous but now suddenly its a thing you wanna do and he . . . does not admit he didn't wanna do it.

-Instead, he keeps telling you how surprised you'll be when you see what he had planned.

-Runs to K last minute and explains the situation. (K laughs at him for about 10 minutes)

-At least he has a small self-made picnic organized the next day. (It were just some peanut butter jelly sandwiches but you both enjoyed them)

-Jo

-He could cry!

-Feels absolutely torn that he forgot something as important as your anniversary and admits it immediately when you show up.

-You don't mind of course, everyone can forget this but he still feels so guilty.

-About a week later he has the best date ever planned. He takes you to all the most beautiful places and gives you a promise ring just because he wants to make up for his forgetfulness.

-Harua

-He had bought a teddybear about a month ago but he does not remember why or how.

-Stares at it for a good ten minutes before he realized he bought it for your anniversary and immediately feels his heart sink in his chest.

-Like Nicholas will appear deadass at your house at around 1 AM with the teddybear just to hand it to you.

-You smack him with the teddybear but let him in regardless.

-He apologizes profusely but you just push his present in his hands and rub through his hair telling him he shouldn't feel bad.

-Taki

-I wholeheartedly believe you both forgot about it after being busy.

-You're sitting on the couch together while watching a movie and this guy looks you dead in the eye and deadass goed "Isn't it our anniversary?"

-You think for a good moment before remembering and just nodding.

-"Want sushi for dinner then?" You agree and that's now a literal tradition. You're eating dinner together and watching movies on every anniversary coming and it's the best.

-Maki

-He doesn't forget.

-How could he with 20 reminders, 17 handwritten notes around his room and the date markes on his callendar with little hearts?

-Arrives fully prepared and with a cute grin on his face.

-It is more likely you were the one who forget, tbh.

-He wouldn't risk forgetting it, you matter way too much.

[ceilingfan5]

15 "Denim jacket with bleach-painted bone motif" & 11 "If they don’t smile at me today I’m going to eat an entire drum set" and taakitz 👀

“If he doesn’t smile at me today, I’m going to eat an entire drum set,” Taako rants, throwing his apron on the counter. He didn’t intend to get on this topic, and now the words won’t stop coming out of his mouth like a busted gumball machine shooting gumballs and quarters all over the floor. Watch out for some Looney Toons ass shenanigans, word listeners, because here comes a mess. “Like what the fuck? He’s too pretty to be allowed to live. He makes me want to hop in a peanut grinder and become Taako butter and live a better life between two slices of discount sliced bread, you know?”

“With jelly, or like-?” Ren grins at him, wiping down the counters, far too thorough. Taako’s got places to be. 

“Obviously with jelly, Ren, what the fuck do you take me for?” Taako grumps.

“Could be honey,” she shrugs pointedly, still looking very pleased with herself. “Maybe you two can become a sandwich together and ride off into a toaster sunset. Maybe you just need to say, hey, honey-”

“And just declare my intentions so boldly?” Taako puts a dramatic hand to his chest, scandalized as loudly as possible. “You can’t do this to me in the workplace, I’m calling HR.”

“Noooo, not again!” she giggles. “Seriously, though, Taako. If he’s cool enough to play in your band, and wear that sick jacket-”

“It’s got bleach-painted bones,” Taako moans, sliding down the counter and onto the floor. She daintly steps over him, and he briefly considers tugging on her apron strings. “And he plays the drums. And the bass guitar. And I think the cello?” Taako mimes playing a flute. “You know the one.”

“Yup,” Ren says, looking down at him as seriously as she can manage. “That one.” 

“And the guys–I can’t tell them. I shouldn’t even be telling you. No offense. I’m mysterious and private and I’m, I’m going to die alone, and,” he tips his head back, misjudges the distance, and hits the cabinet doors with a too-solid thunk that makes him yearn for the good old days, before stupid fucking phylum Chordata got any wise bone ideas. 

Now, wise bone ideas, he possesses a few. He snickers at his own head joke, and Ren gives him a generous half-smile. He sighs. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know,” he slides further onto the floor. She keeps cleaning, bless her. “I worry I’m not- I mean, obviously I am cool enough, natch,”

“Natch,” she repeats, not looking at him. He wipes an imaginary tear from his cheek while she can’t see. He’s trained her so well. 

“But what if we’re different flavors of cool and he isn’t into Taako butter? What if he’s, I dunno, fuckin- sriracha, or, or, or,” Taako gestures emptily. “Cubed cheese you have to get at an art exhibition.”

“You’re as cool as cubed cheese, Taako.” Ren sighs, giving up and half-laying on the counter. 

“I know that,” Taako snaps, warmed in the soul or something stupid like that. 

“And he’s a nerd who plays in a band and wants you to like his sick jacket. Just go, hey, sick jacket, and he’ll be like oh my god thank you for noticing, everybody thought I was too cool to come say hey sick jacket and I’ve been vibrating myself to pieces wanting to tell everybody the fine details of the bleach painting process, did you know that human bones are whack-ass shapes? Ulnas don’t look right. Ever.”

“Yeah, what is up with those guys, anyway?” Taako has to rotate his arm this way and that a couple of times, chewing her advice in his head. “I’m gonna fuck my drummer,” he decides, in perhaps not the same breath but certainly a consecutive one.

“Good, I’m glad. Can we close already? I hate to tell you this, but I do have a life outside my hero worship of you. I’m like, my own whole interesting guy.” Ren smiles, straightens up, and offers him a hand. 

“That can’t be right,” Taako muses, and he lets her pull him up. “You don’t even have a last name.”

“Do you?” She cocks an eyebrow, trying not to laugh.

“That’s debatable,” Taako says airily, and blows her a kiss. “You’re driving dessert tomorrow, bring your A-game. Your A+ game! No, your- uh-”

“I’ll bring my super diamond special reserve game!” she shouts, bouncing excitedly. “Thanks Taako! I hope your drummer wants you!” And before he can even counter that one, she’s off to lock the doors and flip the sign.

Taako’s going home and changing before band practice. Yep.  

[trashland-llamas]

How some of the QSMP likes their eggs cooked

Clarification, the literal food item, not their kiddos

Tubbo; raw, eggshells and all

Cellbit; powdered eggs when he's in the thick of investigating something, over easy when he's actually takes the time to make eggs

Aypierre; poached, in one of those egg holders where you crack it w/ a spoon

Badboyhalo; quiche, but specifically made in one of those cheap cupcake pans where you can bend it a certain way and they pop right out

Wilbur; eggs benedict. eats it w/o any utensils despite how messy it can get

Jaiden; pickled in koolaid, has 7 different jars of them, each a different flavor

Roier; over-medium egg, those ones that look like wispy clouds thrown together in a sandwich w/ green tomato

Bagi; sous vide. apparently, it's cooking vacuum sealed eggs in a water bath but there's a machine that does it for you. eats it on avocado toast.

Roier; y'know how for some baking recipes, you have to whip the egg whites w/ a mixer? yea, he's eating the results of that aka whipped egg whites.

Etoiles; frittata but it's cut into a bunch of little stars that are then put into an egg drop soup, almost as if it were chicken noodle soup

Foolish; is Emmett Cullens w/ a bag of like 12 boiled eggs. goes even further w/ it by slicing them in half and making little peanut butter and jelly sandwiches out of them.