#I got so used to putting in like 5-8 hours of work time every day last semester

[links-studies]

im trying to get started on a research project but I've been taking it easy after I finally got through finals and graduated last semester, so my soul wants to jump right into it and get into the nasty math right away but my brain keeps going "please... I am mush... I do not have that much focus time in me right now"

[skullamity]

PSA for trans men and trans mascs on T who are afraid of/concerned about or experiencing male pattern baldness: Talk to your endocrinologist who monitors your T about hair loss before you talk to anyone else, you have options!

When the hair in the top of my head started to thin, I talked to my regular GP. She told me it should be fine to use Rogaine topically. There were no other options, either because she was somehow not aware OR was under the impression that alternatives might interfere with HRT. If this was the case, she did not relay this info to me, and if she had, I would have made an early appointment with my endocrinologist, who specialises in HRT for trans people specifically, and asked her about my options.

But, since I only have appointments once a year with my endo now because my levels are generally super consistent, I decided to try Rogaine. I lasted about a month, because it basically meant I had to wear a lined hat at all times to make sure I wasn't getting any on my pillow/cats/child. You need to apply it two to three times a day and leave it on your scalp for a couple of hours for the best results, every day, forever, and if you stop using it, your hair goes back to whatever it was up to before that made you concerned in the first place. I quit after a month and resigned myself to eventually going bald.

I finally had a phone appointment with my endo last week (was supposed to be in person but she had an emergency and was working remotely for the day), and when I brought this up and that I had tried Rogaine but couldn't deal with all of the above + my scalp was not reacting well to the alcohol in the foam so I quit, she was like ????? what? why didn't your GP just prescribe you finasteride???

I am now on finasteride! It is a dirt cheap, tiny ass pill. I only need to take a quarter of a pill once a day (my endo also helpfully explained to me that pill cutters exist and are also dirt cheap, so perfectly cutting a pill into quarters takes about 5 seconds and I got it for a whopping $8). Just like Rogaine, I WILL need to take it every day, forever, but it's not going to get all over my pillow and make my cats sick or cause my kid to grow a beard or whatever. It isn't going to dry my scalp out, and it also the cost comparison is a joke. I take it every morning at the same time I take my adhd meds, so it's easy to remember.

I have seen so, so many trans men and mascs online lately worried about this, probably because I've seen so many conservatives and the kind of detrans people that conservatives like to parade around put a lot of emphasis about how T will make you UGLY and make all of your hair fall out. I do feel sorry for any detrans women who are dealing with wonky hairlines or male pattern baldness, but also it sure is convenient that none of them see fit to mention that if you are experiencing those things, you can literally just talk to your endocrinologist about what your options are and then take a quarter of a pill every day to fix it. Almost like making you aware of that might move you away from their end goal, which is getting you to detransition.

[csuitebitches]

How to Wake Up Early

I always wanted to be one of those girls who would wake up early, go for a run and be super productive with their mornings. The issue is - i really love sleep. Every time i would start a routine, i would eventually fail. I would wake up to turn the alarm off, think to myself “5 mins more” and boom- it’s suddenly 8:30 am and i need to leave for work in less than 1 hour.

Two videos on YouTube really changed my mind. One was Andrew Huberman’s, and the other was Jihyo, a k-pop star.

I came across Andrew Huberman’s video about dopamine, and somehow, it helped me to understand why the difficulty waking up early is so important. Now I’m no expert of neuroscience, but let me explain to the best of my abilities.

Dopamine is essentially the build up to the reward; it is not the reward. It is the satisfaction and happiness you feel (when your body releases), after you have achieved something that was painful/ required you to struggle a bit. In order to receive this reward, you have to feel pain, because pain and satisfaction are directly related to each other. Satisfaction without pain is useless and does nothing for you essentially.

That got me wondering: for me, waking up early is difficult. It’s painful. I dont want to do it. But if I do it, its my first win of the day. It’s the first challenge I have overcome of that day, and I always do feel amazing after. The dopamine release after the struggle of waking up and winning the battle of not going back to sleep is definitely there. I feel more confident because a) I have done the “right” thing b) selfishly, i can do something so simple that a lot of people struggle with c) it weirdly makes me feel more confident and like I’m doing the first step of being an adult right.

Jihyo’s video was quite random - she did some show where it shows her daily life when she’s not working. Parts of it made me feel like she’s unable to just relax with herself (probably because her body and mind are so used to chaos, performing, her girl group living together for so many years) so she busies herself a lot. I took the positives from the video; she’s extremely disciplined which I admired, she gets her chores done, she’s good at ensuring that her space is truly her space.

So I decided to build a relatively foolproof routine; but mind you, it does require quite a bit of willpower.

I’ve developed a habit of waking of waking up at 5 am. I head straight for a 30-45 minute meditation and then at least an hour long workout. I stack my habits that way; right after meditation, I put on my running shoes. I used to really struggle with waking up, even if I had to wake up late. This is the strategy that worked me, see if it works for you.

1. Reset your space the night before

This makes you feel less stressed in the morning and also genuinely makes you feel like you have your shit together. Put your clothes away, keep your bag in its place, clean up your desk, reorganise your make up and skin care products. You’re going to go to sleep and wake up to a clean space.

Make sure you define both your bedtime and wake up time. My bedtime is 9:30 pm - so i manage my chores, reading, dinner, everything around that.

2. Early dinner

I’ve noticed that early dinners help me sleep better. I’ve built the habit of casually walking for 25-30 minutes post dinner (not right after eating, after about 15 mins). I’m not walking fast to a point where I’m sweating and puffing, I’m casually strolling outside. During this time, I don’t listen to music, interact with anyone or my phone. I use this time to connect with myself and think about whatever I feel like.

3. No devices before sleeping

I don’t want to stimulate myself before sleeping, so I prefer reading before bed. If you don’t like reading, you can instead do your skincare, maybe revise some physical study notes, etc.

4. Using Alarmy app

This app is torture and I swear by it. This little thing makes you a solve a challenge of your choice in order to make the alarm stop, like math problems, puzzles, etc. I chose 5 math problems.

5. Keep your phone across the room

Don’t charge it near your reach. Keep it as away from you as possible.

6. Stand for two minutes after shutting off the alarm

Don’t allow yourself to snooze, or go back to bed. This is the part that really requires you to tell yourself: “i am not going back to sleep. I’m going to wake up and do the things I have to do for my own benefit.” Remember - the states of heaven and hell are not outside of you, they’re inside you. They are mental states. You have to fight with your lazy demon and tell him/her/whoever that NO; we are NOT going back to bed.

I charge my phone across the room so that forces me to walk first thing in the morning. To stop myself from going back to sleep, after i have shut the alarm off, i just stand for 2 minutes. I dont sit, or go back to bed. I stand and tell myself, we’re doing this. We’re going to wake up and have an amazing day.

Your mind is like a child with tantrums and mood swings. Your rational self has to discipline your mind the way a parent would to a child.

7. Turn a small light on

Not something that is jarring or overwhelming, but enough to help you start waking up. I turn my phone’s flashlight on and keep it on my desk.

8. Be consistent, even on weekends

The biggest mistake you can make is not being consistent. Your body doesnt recognise weekends, your mind does. Your body doesn’t know that tomorrow is Monday, so its time to wake up early. By staying consistent (yes, I wake up at 5 am on weekends too), it allows my body to develop its own body clock and not wrecking the system I’ve kept in place.

What do I do if I have a late night?

It really depends. Let’s say I come home relatively early (+2 hours around my bedtime) around 11 pm, and im in bed by 11:30. I’ll wake up somewhere close to 5 am, like 6 am instead. The next day I ensure I’m in bed by the bedtime I’ve kept for myself and wake up at 5 am again.

If I come home really late, like 3 am - i keep my alarm exactly 8 hours from that time. I need to get sleep, but oversleeping is an issue and that wont allow me to wake up early the next day. I want to get enough sleep where im rested for the day, but not excessively. Unfortunately, sleeping so late would definitely mean that i wont be able to fall asleep at my dot 9:30 pm bedtime, but i turn the lights off and get ready to sleep by then anyway, and mentally prepare for my 5 am wake up call.

[rose-gold-bullet]

[𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞] Chamber x Reader One Shot

Summary: You’re an agent for the Valorant Protocol who deeply values their morning routine of drinking coffee alone. That is, until, the new guy gently disrupts it.

warnings: trauma from missions, insomnia, mostly comfort/fluff though

You woke up abruptly in a cold sweat, an experience that's common yet seldom talked about within the Valorant protocol. Mission after mission, kill after death, it's bound to take a toll on one's psyche eventually.

Alas, you were up now, which was slightly less upsetting than returning to your dream. You checked your clock; you rarely got enough sleep, but maybe today you've gotten lucky and achieved Sage's recommended 8 hours.

"5:30?" you muttered to yourself, "Typical." With a groggy stretch and yawn, you dragged yourself out of bed. Skye and Deadlock have probably already left for their morning run, and you were sure the other agents wouldn't be up for a few more hours. Might as well just keep your pyjamas on then, surely no one was going to see you anyway.

You got ready for the morning and left your room to find the communal kitchen. It was a bit early for breakfast but you figured it was as good a time as any for an absurdly large mug of coffee.

You put on a pot, plopped down on a nearby chair, and rested your eyes as you listened to the coffee machine slowly do its work, drip by drip. These mornings were quite peaceful, all alone as the sun slowly greeted you through the windows. You were used to working in solitude, so switching to cooperating with Valorant has been quite a struggle. The agents were kind for the most part and you were grateful to be a part of such a caring team, but you still cherished every moment you had to yourself.

Moments later, that time alone was interrupted by footsteps making their way towards you. You let out a sigh of annoyance and opened your eyes to witness a complete stranger wander into the kitchen. They were possibly the most attractive and elegant man you've ever seen, and it admittedly took a moment to stop staring.

"Um," you started, before realizing you were still in your quite revealing pyjamas. You cleared your throat in a meagre attempt to gain your composure, "I... don't believe we've met. You must be the new recruit I've heard about. Chamber, I think it was?"

He was already at the coffee machine, searching  for the biggest mugs he could find. He glanced over to you, admiring you for only a moment before going back to searching the cabinets.

"That's right. It's a pleasure to meet you, chérie." He didn't ask your codename, probably because he's heard about you already. "Do you take anything in your coffee?"

You blushed at the pet name he's assigned to you so casually. Despite the intrusion, it's quite nice having someone make you coffee without you asking.

"Cream and sugar, please." He nodded and silently prepared both coffees before handing you your mug and sitting across from you, and you briefly caught scent of his expensive cologne. You took a sip of your coffee; he prepared it perfectly. You thanked him again and placed the mug down.

"So, Chamber," you started, "What are you doing awake so early?"

"Ah, I'm a weapons designer, you see. Sometimes inspiration strikes, and sleep must have to wait. Not only that, but it's rather hard to sleep comfortably in a place like this, no? I'm much too used to my home back in Paris." You nodded along, but you were only partially paying attention. You were already distracted just by his voice, and you nearly didn't hear his question, "And you? You seem quite tired, chérie, I worry you should be sleeping."

"Oh... I'm a bit of an insomniac is all," you lied, "Today I just got unlucky." In reality, you wanted nothing more than to go back to the days when your dreams weren't plagued with the horrors of the battlefield, but that's a bit heavy for a man you've only just met.

The silence was surprisingly comfortable, only occasionally making small talk but consistently enjoying each other's company. You were both mostly lost in thought, sometimes glancing at the other just to appreciate their beauty. Neither of you had really noticed.

"So," You break the silence. By now your coffee is only half full. "How do you bring your weapons into battle? The protocol has a policy of only buying from our manufacturer." You see his eyes light up at the mention of his passion before summoning a sidearm from the tattoos on his body. He chuckled at your bewildered expression before returning his gun back to his skin.

After a moment to take in what you just saw, you finally responded.

"That's... unique. Um, if you don't mind me asking, just how many of these tattoos do you have?"

"Would you like to come back to my room to see?" He flashed you a devious smile, and you almost choked on your final sip of coffee.

"You're quite the flirt."

"Only for you, chérie."

You rolled your eyes, but your smile didn't waver. "You know how to flatter too. But the others don't trust you, and unfortunately, I'm sure there's good reason for it. It's going to take more than some smooth words to get me into bed, I'm sure you understand." you stood up and took his empty mug before washing them both and putting them away. You were too focussed on the mugs to see the look of frustration on his face. He was a perceptive man, but he didn't know the others thought so poorly of him they felt they had to warn you of his existence.

"I'll see you around, Chamber." You gave him one more smile before leaving to return to your room.

"I look forward to it, chérie."

---

You never would have guessed it, but that brief conversation with the frenchman had changed your morning schedule ever since. For the first time since you've joined the protocol, you truly looked forward to having your alone time interrupted.

You didn't know it, but the reason you've met Chamber so late was because the other agents actively prevented it. You were smart and independent, but your friends simply loved you too much to leave someone like you with someone like him.

Luckily for Chamber, you were both early birds, and no one was awake to keep you two apart during your morning coffee. Maybe he hasn't been the most... transparent man in the past, but he's made it his mission to prove to you he's someone you can trust. It didn't take long for him to fall in love with so much more than just your appearance, and even the others had noticed he'd stopped flirting with everyone except you.

Today, like any other day, he woke up early. Though he didn't need it, he had set an alarm for 5:30 ever since your first morning together to ensure he was able to make you coffee on time.

He put on his typical suit you mentioned you liked, and quietly made his way to the kitchen.

As usual, he'd made you both coffee and had sat down, but for the first time in months, you were nowhere to be seen. He waited as long as he could, but he eventually got worried. Did you find something out about him? Were you scared of him because of it? He shook his head in an attempt to silence such thoughts, but he couldn't even finish his coffee before promptly heading to your room to make sure everything was okay.

He hesitated for a moment before building up the courage to knock.

"Ma Chérie?" His voice was gentle, "Is everything alright?"

No response.

"May I come in?" He asked after a moment. He was hoping you were just sleeping, but you've mentioned your nightmares before and how they're even worse than what most of your coworkers experience. He heard the faintest choked sob from the other side of the door, and took it as permission to enter.

There you were, crying silently on your bed. You were too exhausted to even be embarrassed by your now best friend seeing you like this.

"Oh, chérie... What's the matter? Is there anything I can do?" Chamber cautiously made his way to the bed. He wasn't used to comforting people, as he's never had as close a connection as he had with you. All he knew was that he desperately wanted you to feel better.

"It... It was just another dream. It's nothing." You tried so hard to mask the fear and sadness in your voice, and Chamber saw right through it.

"Can you tell me about it?"

You didn't respond. How could you tell him that his imaginary death is what brought you over the edge? That you've fallen in love with someone so deeply the thought of them leaving is unbearable? Especially when that someone is an attractive millionaire with thousands of potential girlfriends to choose from? The last thing you needed to hear was his smug laugh as you fuelled his ego.

But his ego was the last thing on his mind. More than anything, he just wanted you to feel better. "Please?" He asked, softer this time.

After a while, you finally answered. Your voice was hoarse and you could barely speak. you must have been crying for hours.

"You died. We were on a mission, and I couldn't help you. Sage couldn't save you. You were gone." The tears returned, stronger this time. "I was alone again."

Chamber was shocked. First of all, him? Dead? Impossible, he was simply too good. Second of all, he couldn't believe the mere thought of his death was affecting you like this. He was quite confident in himself, but to him you were magnificent, and he had figured you could never care for him the way he cared for you.

"There's no need to cry, mon amour. I'm here now. You know how safe I am on my missions, I'm not going anywhere." He sat down on your bed and grabbed your hand. You squeezed it tight, thankful for the reassurance. After a minute, he spoke once again.

"I have dreams like this too. About you." your sobs went quiet as you tried to focus on what he was saying. "I wouldn't be able to go another day without you, chérie. But I know how much of a menace you are on the battlefield. And even if things get... complicated during these missions, I will always put you first. I'll die if it means ensuring your safety. That's what I tell myself whenever I have dreams like these." He paused. He's a flirtatious man, but he's never said words like these out loud. He wasn't sure if now was a bad time, but maybe it would at least distract you from your dream.

"I love you too much to ponder you leaving me. It'd be torture." He finished.

Your eyes went wide. You were too stunned to speak. You both stayed like that for a while, you curled up in the fetal position with the now slightly disheveled man sitting beside you, holding your hand.

with a shaky breath, you finally spoke. "Can you please lay with me?"

He was surprised, but happily obliged. he loosened his tie and got under the covers with you, before gently placing an arm around your waist. He treated you like glass, or like you'd disappear if he did anything more.

"I love you too, Vincent." you smiled, and your tears slowly halted as you felt sleepiness take over.

He pulled you ever so slightly closer to him, and a single tear escaped him and found its way to the pillow under his head. He was grateful you were turned away and couldn't see.

Tomorrow, you will both be sent on your next mission. You'll both have to kill. You'll both have to see the person you love more than anything get shot at. You'll have to report back to Brimstone once it's over and pretend to be unaffected by the violence.

But that's the last thing on your mind. Today is the first time in months either of you had stayed in bed past 6 am. Chances are, you'll both wake up hours later, your bodies finally catching up on some much needed rest.

For the first time in months, you won't suffer from nightmares. He won't lay awake, fearing the other agents will finally convince you to avoid him.

The coffee he brewed for the two of you will get cold. For the first time in months, it will sit abandoned in the communal kitchen, for all the agents to see and wonder where you both went. And the two of you couldn't care less.

Notes: -2,119 words -allat just to be hardstuck silver is crazyy -cross posted from AO3 and Wattpad! thanks so much for reading <3

[whispering-ways]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡ i like you (too much) - part 2 ♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

♡ summary: you just joined a new high school and you're hoping to make a bunch of new friends. unfortunately, you're paired up with Katsuki and he seems to despise you. nevertheless, you're determined to make it work. little do you know that you're first interaction would lead to a wonderful friendship and possibly even more.

♡ pairing: bakugo katsuki x reader

♡ tags: no warnings, just fluff :) but the next couple of parts may or may not have some smut ;)

♡ notes: hi besties! here's part 2 to the first chapter. i should have more time to work on this story and a bunch of other fics since I've officially graduated! i hope you guys like this chapter and let me know if yall want more :) the pink text is the readers texts and the orange is Katsuki.

You heard the alarm on your phone ring, waking you up for the morning. Groggily, you reached over to your nightstand to turn it off. You rub your eyes, tired from having to wake up so early the last couple of days. The bus at your new high school came around 6:45, which meant that you had to wake up at at least 5:35 am to get ready. A part of you liked getting up so early; it made you feel on top of things, a true it girl. But the rest of you ached to just swaddle yourself in your plush blankets and sink right back into bed. You dragged yourself out of bed and headed to the bathroom to freshen yourself up a bit. 

After you splash your face with some water you stare into the mirror, taking notice of your dark circles. “Damn I might need to start using an eye cream or something soon, waking up so early is not doing justice to my skin,” you said out loud. As soon as you said it though, you knew that was a lie. You knew in your heart that the only reason why you were so tired every morning is because you spent every night texting Katsuki. 

By now you figured that he was definitely a night owl but unfortunately, you weren’t. You had always been the type of girl to sleep early, prioritizing your 8 hours of sleep. But if there was one person who could make you disregard your routine, it’d be Katsuki. Over the last couple of days, you both had gotten closer. You’d been talking at school and texting each other seemingly non-stop and you’d say a decent friendship had formed between you two. Something about his texts made your stomach fill with butterflies and you couldn’t help getting excited every time you saw a notification from him pop up on your phone. 

You spent nights staying awake texting Katsuki till 1, 2 3 in the morning. Even when your eyelids felt like they could no longer remain open, you’d do your best to stay awake to not miss a single text. Was it a bit much? Yes. Should you be putting a guy before your beauty sleep? Probably not. Did you still do it anyway? Absolutely. It’s not like you didn’t text him in the day, but after school, he barely texted you besides the occasional response after a couple of hours. He just seemed to come alive in the night. That’s when you’d get your near-instantaneous responses and true conversations. So if talking to him meant staying up at night, you were willing to do it. 

You’d done a good job so far of staying awake in class; after all, you didn’t want to miss out on notes. But after a couple of days, your exhaustion had just gotten to you.. You were tired, the lecture seemed to go on an on forever, the teacher’s monotonous voice, it was the typical recipe for drifting off. With your head in your hands, you felt your eyes start to blink slowly as they got heavier by the moment. Before you knew it, you felt your eyelids close. You didn’t know how long you were asleep. But your teacher’s voice immediately brought you back to reality.

“(Y/N), could you tell me what the answer is to Question 3?” the teacher said, her voice startling you awake. Your face burned with embarrassment as you flipped through your notes to find some way to solve the question. As you couldn’t find any way out of the situation, your shame grew and grew. All of a sudden you felt a sharp nudge to your arm coming from beside you. You turn to see Kastuki clearing his throat, and pushing his worksheet towards you. At first, you’re confused but then the pieces clicked in your head once you saw him pointing to the same question the teacher was asking you about.

“(Y/N)? Answer the question please, we don’t have all day.” your teacher said, her tone getting more frustrated. 

“Uhhhh...2?” you answer hesitantly, glancing quickly towards Katsuki’s paper to make sure you said the right number.

“Oh, yes, that’s correct. Next time, still pay attention to the lecture,” the teacher said, moving on with her presentation.

“Thank you so much, you saved my ass just there.” you whisper to Katsuki. “I would’ve gotten laughed at for sure if I got that wrong.”

“You don’t need to thank me, that’s what friends are for, stupid,” he replied with a smile. Your heart skipped a beat. You’d never really seen his smile, it was just downright adorable; surprising for someone who looked so intimidating. You were so wrapped up in the moment, you didn’t catch yourself staring. “What, something on my face or some shit?”

“Uhh...no, nothing at all, you’re all peaches and cream.” 

He chuckled in response and turned around, leaving you to your thoughts.

“Peaches and cream?? Who even says something like that anymore?? Stupid, stupid me and stupid, stupid thing to say and now he probably thinks I’m weird and strange and ー” your thoughts were cut off by the sound of the bell releasing everyone to go to lunch. You started packing up your laptop and your notes, glad that there were no more chances to get embarrassed by the teacher again, at least for the next hour. 

You feel yet another nudge, and you turn towards Katsuki. “Hey do you wanna share lunch with me? I don’t know if you’ve got a lunch packed already but like I accidentally packed two sandwiches and I’m on a cut and I only wanna eat one sandwich, and I don’t wanna waste any damn food. So like if you want you can have the other one or something,’ he says.

“Yes! I mean, yes that would be nice thank you so much, what kind of sandwich?” you reply trying to not sound too happy at the offer. 

“Well I don’t really know what it's fucking called, but there’s some grilled chicken, lettuce, tomatoes, pickles and I think some spicy mayo in it. That sound good to you?”

Your mouth watered just thinking about it. “Yeah dude, that sounds great, thanks again! I’m just gonna go to the bathroom real quick, and then do you wanna meet up at the cafeteria?”

“Nah, I'll just wait for you. Plus I don’t want you getting lost or anything trying to find me.” Katsuki replied walking towards the bathroom. You thank him internally; you had no clue where the bathroom was anyways. After a couple moments, you both get to the bathroom. As you head inside, Katsuki leans on the wall of lockers nearby, plopping his backpack down on the floor. 

He double checks to see whether you’ve truly gone inside and puts his face in his hands. He was hoping you didn’t notice how red he was on the way to the bathroom. “I didn’t think it’d actually work, holy shit,” Katsuki thought to himself over and over again. If truth be told, Katsuki didn’t make any extra sandwiches.

That morning Katsuki got up early to make lunch for school, not because he was a morning person, but because of a small detail you mentioned last night. You both were having your usual nightly talk when the topic got to food. 

“Yeah I like to cook a lot honestly! I haven’t really made anything recently, but hopefully I can get more into it soon.” 

It surprised Katsuki honestly, he never took you as someone who’d like to cook. 

“Oh word, that’s cool, any reason why you like it tho?”

“Yeah, I mean like I guess its just my love language? I love to cook and just make people happy through food :) I usually cook for my family a lot.”

“That’s honestly pretty fucking kind of you. Who cooks for you?

“Ah, I mean its just me cooking at home, so no one really lol.”

“Damn, its gotta be tiring cooking all the time tho”

“Yeah sometimes, but yk like I said its my love language so I don’t mind. But thats why I just get food from the cafeteria, its just tiring most times to cook for everyone and do lunch lol”

Katsuki read your text and laid his head back on his pillow, arm across his face as he stared up at the ceiling. His stomach filled with excitement. Just like that, an idea brewed in his head. He wasn’t a good cook by any means whatsoever. Besides making a mean microwaveable ramen, he didn’t know how to make much but he was gonna do his best to make lunch for the both of you tomorrow morning. You fell asleep soon after that, but his idea kept running in his mind for the rest of the night. 

He spent the rest of the night scrolling through TikToks, trying to figure out some sort of recipe that was easy but something you’d like. And that’s when he had his eureka moment. There was grilled chicken in his fridge and he was sure there had to be some topping in there too; he could make grilled chicken sandwiches. All he could hope for at that point was whether it’d be good or not. 

The next morning he woke up determined to make you the best fucking sandwich you’d ever had. 30 minutes later and he accomplished his goal. As he drove to school, he hoped you’d like it when he realized he forgot a vital part of his plan. “How the fuck am I gonna tell her about lunch?” 

He wracked his brain for any more ideas. Katsuki didn’t want to come across too strong, but you just deserved something nice. Finally, he settled on telling you that he just had an extra sandwich. After all, honesty was the best policy and he technically did have an extra. He honestly thought you’d refuse or have some sort of lunch with you already. But when you said yes, he was absolutely elated. He tried his best to cover his enthusiasm, but now it was written all over Katsuki’s face.  The grin hadn’t left his face since you both started walking to the bathroom.

The soft tug to his jacket sleeve brought him out of his thoughts. “Hey, thanks for waiting! Do you wanna maybe go to the library instead to eat? The cafeteria is always so fucking noisy and I’ll barely be able to hear you talk,” you ask.

“She wants to hear me talk; she wants to hear me talk,” Katsuki thought gleefully. “Yeah sure, I don’t mind,” he replied, trying to play cool.

After walking to the library, you both find a quiet spot in the back. You and Katsuki sit down, side by side, before he pulled out two small plastic bags from his backpack. He passed you a sandwich and waited anxiously for your reaction.

You look at him quizzically. “Why the fuck is he just staring at me and not eating at all?” you thought before taking a bite. Your eyes widened and you looked up at Katsuki.

“What? What? Is it bad or something? You don’t gotta fucking eat it if its that bad,” he says.

“No, Katsuki, its perfect! It's really really good!” you reply, diving back in for another bite. You skipped breakfast and your stomach had been grumbling all throughout class and this was just the perfect fix.

“I’m glad you like it. I made it myself,” Katsuki said with pride, a smile stretched across his face yet again. How could he not smile when you looked so precious?

“Are you for real? That is so sweet of you! Kastuki, I’m for real touched you thought of little old me, you sat leaning over to wrap him in a hug.

Katsuki’s whole face turns red, hypersensitive to your touch. If he knew making you a sandwich would get you close to him, he would've made you lunch way sooner. 

You break away and continue eating your sandwich as Katsuki starts to eat his. You’re so engrossed in your meal that you don’t notice Katsuki staring at you, still red and stomach filled with butterflies.

When you got home, you immediately went to your room, thoughts of lunch on your mind that had nothing to do with being hungry and everything to do with a certain blonde. “He made me lunch. Like from scratch. Like who does that?? As if he’s already not cute enough, now I’ve got him cooking for me,” you thought. 

That’s when a thought quickly crossed your head. “Does he maybe like me?” It only took you a few moments with that idea to make you absolutely flushed. “There’s like no way, right? I’m me and he’s so cool, and plus I’m just being delulu because there’s literally no way. Exactly, there’s no way he likes me right?” you say to yourself. 

You tried your best to focus on your homework for the rest of the night, trying to get thoughts of Katsuki out of your head. But every so often thoughts of that darling smile or his piercing eyes or how he smelt like burnt caramel when you hugged him kept creeping into your mind. It didn’t help that he was texting you too. With every single thought and text, the feeling in your stomach just got stronger and stronger. It was a weird mix of butterflies, anxiety, and giddiness and God you loved it so much. You gave up on your homework and laid on your bed, starting to drift into your usual daydream. 

You closed your eyes, curling up into your blankets. You imagined Katsuki’s arm coming from behind you, wrapping around your stomach and pulling you close to his bare chest. His arm slide up your arm, rubbing soothing circles into your skin. Just as he kissed the top of your head, you heard a voice call out, bringing you back to reality abruptly. 

“(Y/N)! Come down for dinner honey!” your mom yelled. You let out a sigh; you were so close to the exciting part of the dream too. 

"Coming, Mama!" you cheerfully replied as you quickly slipped on some cozy slippers for comfort. As you finished getting ready, your thoughts wandered, wishing your daydreams were real life. With a sigh, you brushed off those feelings, "I'm just being silly. I know he'll never see me in that light."

Meanwhile, on the other side of your street, Katsuki was having some day dreams of his own. He still hadn’t been able to get you off his mind. It was like whole world around him gained color the second you walked into his mind. All he could think about after lunch was how it felt to have you so close to him. His thoughts were filled what how it felt to have your arms around him. You were so much warmer than he imagined. And thinking about how your chest slightly pressed into his bicep sent him into overdrive. 

With all his heart, he wished he could’ve hugged you back, even if it was just for a second. He engraved every detail of your embrace in his memory, filing them away in his memory. Katsuki hoped that one day he’d be able to sweep you into his arms and hold you close. But until then, thoughts and daydreams would have to do.

[m00nsbaby]

Helping you with homework.

Moon system x reader. - Headcanons.

Steven.

God bless Steven Grant's heart.

Although you didn't enjoy asking for help with things like this, you knew your boyfriend was the right person for your history assignment.

Unfortunately, remembering dates was your kryptonite.

"I'll explain it to you, okay?" He put on his glasses, and you sighed.

How were you supposed to concentrate when he looked like that?

You watched him go to his room and return with at least six different books in his arms.

And you pushed your chair so close that your shoulders touched.

It started well; you were understanding the timeline from prehistory to the Middle Ages.

However, you didn't take into account that once Steven started talking about his hyperfixations, he didn't stop.

By the second hour, you weren't sure if you were still retaining anything, so you did what your instinct dictated.

You hugged his arm, the one he wasn't using to underline sentences in his book, and your cheek rested against his shoulder.

Steven's heart raced, as it always did when you touched him spontaneously.

"Am I boring you already, love?" He kissed your hair, and shortly after, you felt the weight of his cheek against your head.

"Never," you simply said as the letters began to dance in front of your eyes.

The truth was that his voice relaxed you. Steven had a tendency to speak quickly, his accent resonating in your ears and warming you to your core, but when things got intimate, his voice seemed deeper.

He spoke slowly to make sure you didn't get lost in his words.

You yawned, and he noticed but didn't say anything. In fact, he kept talking.

And talking.

And talking.

Until your eyelids grew heavy.

"And with that, we conclude the topic of feudalism." You had fallen asleep about 10 minutes ago, hugging Steven's arm and feeling his slow breath against your body.

He chuckled, a sound you didn't even register.

Steven didn't feel bad about it; he knew school was taking its toll on you, and that day you hadn't taken your usual daily nap.

He knew better than anyone that you needed rest.

And because he had once read that people feel sleepy when they're comfortable with someone.

He didn't mind having to continue your assignment by himself, doing everything possible not to move you from his shoulder.

And taking breaks now and then to place a hand on your forehead to keep you from falling forward when you nodded off.

The next day, you woke up in your bed, and Steven had already gone to work.

Under a note with a happy face drawn on it were the seven pages of your handwritten essay.

You ended the day with the highest grade in your group, several congratulations, and many embarrassed smiles that screamed, "I didn't even lift the pen off the desk all night."

Marc.

"I beg you." "No."

"Marc?" "No."

"Please?" "I said no."

You had been following him around the house for about 5 hours. Usually, you had no trouble completing your responsibilities from start to finish, but on days like today, you didn't even have the energy to turn on your laptop.

And Marc, of course, had already decided that there was no way he would help you with something like this.

In his school days, he didn't even do his own homework.

"Please, please, please." "I said no."

After begging for the 46th time, you finally gave up. The rest of the day passed just as boringly until dinner when you took the last sip of coffee from your cup.

"I'm not going to do it." After a week of constant sleep deprivation, you decided that you could afford to sleep for 8 hours just this once.

Marc looked at you in silence for a few seconds before nodding his head.

"Then let's go to sleep."

You obeyed, and you both went hand in hand to bed. Like every night, you felt him press you against his body with both arms.

The exhaustion in your body made you give in in less than 10 minutes.

But Marc couldn't sleep.

At 12:27 in the morning, he quietly got out of bed.

And at 01:53, you woke up. The fear of not feeling your daily companion almost made you cry like a little kid.

You got up to look for him, and it wasn't difficult at all. The light from your laptop illuminated the entire dining room.

And the sound of the keys echoed through the house.

"Marc?" "No," he replied again. Admitting such gestures was not his strong suit.

Still, he pushed the chair back to give you space, and you dragged your feet to sit on his lap.

You sat sideways, your head resting on his shoulder as the warmth of his body relaxed you from head to toe.

He kept typing.

You don't know how long you slept there, but a while later, you felt him carry you to bed.

And just a few hours later, your alarm went off, with Marc's arms crushing you against his chest, and your laptop patiently waiting in the dining room.

Jake.

Spanish was never your strong suit.

And you knew very well that Jake was the one who could help you, but once you asked him, you knew he wouldn't stop bothering you.

He, on the other hand, was an expert in both things: speaking fluent Spanish and teasing you.

"Jake?" "Yes, honey?" "Can I ask you something?"

And as you suspected, he didn't leave you alone all day.

"Could you pour me a glass of water?" "¿Perdón? No te escuché." (Sorry? I didn't hear you.)

You looked at him with a furrowed brow.

"¿Y bien?" (Well?)

"Un… vaso de… agua." (A glass of water.) "¿Por qué?" (Why?) "Por favor." (Please.)

You rolled your eyes for the 17th time that day.

And he kissed you for the 23rd time.

"¿Amor?" You looked up from your phone. "¿Cómo se llama esto?" (What's this called?) You watched him point to his fork.

You were 12 seconds away from murdering him with your own hands.

"Tú puedes." (You can do it.) He sounded like the host of a children's program. "Te…"

"Te…" You stared at him, waiting for more clues. "Neeee." "Dor."

Kiss number 27.

You won't deny that you didn't hit him multiple times and gave him full-body shoves since you needed all your strength to at least get him to move.

And he mocked you every time.

"I hate you." "No-oh. Intenta de nuevo." (Try again.) "¡Te odio!"

At least this time he made you laugh.

It turns out that all day you didn't get around to doing the study session you had planned for the day.

And you probably learned more than if you had done it.

Still, you cursed when you felt your boyfriend's hands on your shoulders as he approached you from behind.

You looked up, and he leaned down to your height, with that mischievous smile that seemed permanently etched on his face.

"What?" "Te amo." (I love you.)

You blushed.

"Te amo." you said back as you received a chaste kiss on your lips.

You had lost count.

"Eres el amor de mi vida." (You're the love of my life.) Another kiss. "Espero algún día encontrar las palabras para hacerte saber cuanto te amo." (I hope to someday find the words to let you know how much I love you.)

You stopped paying attention once his lips started brushing against yours as he spoke.

"Te amo." he repeated, placing another kiss on your lips.

And when you thought the day was over, he didn't miss the opportunity to test your patience once more.

"Goodnight, babe." "No te entendí." (I didn't understand you.)

In the darkness, you heard the thump you gave his chest.

"Buenas noches." You kissed his shoulder.

And yes, the next day, you let him enjoy his multiple "I told you so" moments when you passed the exam.

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

I dont have a long funny title for these Nimona headcanons

Nimona will steal the boy's stuff all the time 

she’ll eat food off their plates when they’re not looking or will steal their food from the fridge 

She also steals all of Ambrosius’ rubber bands and claw clips 

And when she thinks the boys aren't wearing their clothes enough she’ll take them and either upcycle them or wear them as pajamas 

They’ve asked her a million times why she does this and her answer every single time is “It's fun”

The trio all have stims that the others view as harmful 

When Bal is stressed he’ll grind his teeth or bite his nails 

Nimona will bite his lips or pick at scabs that he let form

Ambrosius will bite the inside of his mouth or pull his hair 

And they all have little signals for each other to make them mindful that they’re doing it 

They don’t try and stop each other they know it’ll just make it worse but it’s a little reminder that they’re doing it 

Just a little “Hey I know you know yourself best and what you can handle but you’re also starting to bleed so please be careful” 

When they have their mouth stims the other will do things like whistle or hum just small things that you can’t do easily when you’re grinding your teeth or biting your mouth/nails

When Nimona is picking at his scabs the boys will tap their feet or drum on their legs 

And when Ambrosius is pulling his hair Nimona and Bal will offer to tie it up or braid it and sometimes they’ll just slide a rubber band over to him

If he doesn’t want the rubber band or doesn’t want them touching him they don’t force him they consider it a success because they still got through to him 

And if he lets them mess with his hair they consider it a bigger success because they love braiding his hair

When Ambrosius doesn’t have to go to work or doesn’t have to be in early Bal and Nimona take turns styling his hair

It doesn’t matter if it takes 5 minutes or 50 he’ll wait patiently for them to finish

And he leaves the house like that too no matter how crazy or stupid it looks

They have a little collection of pictures that they/civilians took and posted of their “masterpieces” 

Ambrosius has an 8-step skincare routine that he does every single day

Doesn’t matter if he’s witnessed every atrocity the world can throw at him he’s still doing it 

He also has a dedicated hair care routine that he spent hours researching 

Bal doesn’t give a singular solitary fuck what he puts on his face

As long as it’s cruelty-free not expensive and works he doesn’t care 

When Bal and Ambrosius first became friends Bal told him that he didn’t really wash his face even after he joined the institute 

Ambrosius almost passed out while whining about how the world is a cruel and unusual place 

He has worn Bal down over the years and made him use two products face wash and moisturizer 

He also found out that Nimona doesn’t take care of their skin at all

And when they saw how shocked Ambrosius was they continued by saying “In fact I take dirt baths like a chinchilla”

All he could choke out was “My lovely little tornado why?” They started laughing and claimed it’s “good for my immune system” 

Which caused Ambrosius to ask almost hysterically “What immune system?!”

[pastel-charm-14]

dealing with academic burnout

hey lovelies! if you're feeling burnt out with school right now, you're not alone. here are some tips to help you push through and finish strong!! (long post incoming :))

BREAK IT DOWN -

big assignments can feel overwhelming, so break them into smaller, more manageable tasks. instead of "write a 10-page paper," think "write an outline," "research for 1 hour," "write the introduction," and so on. this makes the workload less daunting and helps you make consistent progress. it's also helpful to keep track of those smaller tasks in a list.

BE REALISTIC -

prioritize your tasks and set achievable daily or weekly goals. don't try to do everything at once. make a to-do list every day, and highlight your most important tasks. this helps you stay organized but also it feels really good to check things off your list :) for example, aim to complete two math problems instead of the entire set, or read one chapter instead of the whole book, and see where it goes from there.

TAKE BREAKS -

in order to be productive, you need to rest your mind!! try the pomodoro technique: work for 25 minutes, then take a 5-minute break. after four cycles, take a longer break (15-30 minutes). during your breaks, do something completely different from your study activity. get up, stretch, grab a snack, or go for a quick walk outside. it's refreshing for your mind and body.

STAY ACTIVE -

physical activity helps reduce stress and improve your mood. so you should aim to get at least 30 minutes of exercise a day. this could be a workout, a yoga session, or even just a really fast walk. if you don't have much time, try putting short bursts of activity in throughout your day. for example, do some stretches or a few jumping jacks between pomodoro cycles.

GET SUPPORT -

talk to friends, family, or a counselor if you're feeling overwhelmed. sometimes, just having someone listen can make a huge difference!! if you’re struggling with a particular subject or area, try forming/joining a study group or seeking help from a tutor. working with others can give you new perspectives and helps with loneliness.

HAVE A HEALTHY DIET -

your brain needs proper fuel to function at its best. try to eat balanced meals with fruits, veggies, whole grains, and protein. avoid too much caffeine and sugary snacks, because those can lead to energy crashes. keep a water bottle with you and make sure you're drinking enough throughout the day to keep your energy levels stable.

GET ENOUGH SLEEP -

pulling all-nighters is going to affect your concentration and memory. go for 7-8 hours of sleep each night. get a bedtime routine in place to help signal to your body that it's time to wind down. this could include stuff like reading a book, listening to calming music, or doing some mindfulness exercises. avoid screens at least an hour before bed, because the blue light can interfere with your sleep.

REWARD YOURSELF -

give yourself something to look forward to after completing a task. a favorite snack, watching an episode of your favorite show, or spending some time on social media, really anything that makes you happy. rewards reinforce your positive behavior and make studying feel more manageable. for example, tell yourself, "after I finish this chapter, I'll take a break to watch a funny youtube video."

STAY ORGANIZED -

keep track of deadlines and dates!! it will save you so much stress!! use a planner, calendar app, or bullet journal to log all your assignments and exam dates. you can also color code by subject/priority to make it easier to see what needs attention. review your schedule often and adjust it when you need to.

GIVE YOURSELF SOME LOVE -

it's okay to feel tired and stressed!! be kind to yourself and remember that you're doing your best. if you need to take a break, don't feel guilty about it. self-care is just as important as academic achievement. try some mindfulness or meditation and just take a moment to ground yourself.

hang in there, you've got this! just a little bit more to go and it'll be all worth it in the end. 🫶

[dailytogachako]

So I found this around, can I ask for Toga/Ochako?

♥ Send a ship and I'll give you who:

- Gives nose/forehead kisses

- Gets jealous the most

- Picks the other up from the bar when they’re too drunk to drive

- Takes care of on sick days

- Drags the other person out into the water on beach day

- Gives unprompted massages

- Drives/rides shotgun

- Brings the other lunch at work

- Has the better parental relationship

- Tries to start role-playing in bed

- Embarrassingly drunk dancer

- Still cries watching Titanic

- Firmly believes in couples costumes

- Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas

- Makes the other eat breakfast

- Remembers anniversaries

- Brings up having kids

omg hii anon!!! sorry it took me so long to respond 😞😞

to be honest I didn't really understand the question, is it a trend? like, say who would do this or that? I interpreted that way so i will do it that way, sorry if I got it wrong 💔

1- gives nose/forehead kisses

Definitely Uraraka! she always kisses toga's forehead and nose to show that she loves and cares for her. She does this every day before going to work.

2- Gets jealous the most

Okay, it would definitely be Toga. Himiko's jealousy is not exactly possessive, but rather insecure jealousy. She's afraid that Ochako will find someone better and "less weird" and end up leaving her. Even when Uraraka's assurances that this won't happen, she still has insecurities about it which ends up resulting in jealousy of anyone she doesn't know and talks to Uraraka.

3- Picks the other up from the bar when they're too drunk to drive

I thought a lot and came to the conclusion that Himiko doesn't like alcohol. She seems to be someone who likes sweet drinks, and despite having sweet alcoholic drinks she avoids them because she believes she doesn't need alcohol to have fun. But there are exceptions, and in these exceptions Ochako always goes to look for her little girlfriend in the bar. Himiko does the same for her, but she doesn't know how to drive 😭😭 so she gets a ride from one of her friends to drop her off at Uraraka's apartment

4- takes care of on sick days

BOTH YOUR HONOR!!!

I can perfectly imagine Ochako taking care of a sick and spoiled Himiko and I can also imagine Himiko taking care of a very stubborn Ochako.

Uraraka HATES hospitals so she does everything to avoid them, so she's always ends up accepting Toga to take care of her despite being extremely stubborn and swearing that "I can take care of myself"

5- Drags the other person out into the water on beach day

Himiko! She doesn't see the point of a beach day without going into the water, so she drags Ochako with her and always ends up forgetting to put on sunscreen. One time she ended up all burned and was mumbling for hours because her skin hurt 💔😞 Uraraka never let her forget again

6- gives unprompted messages

THIS IS SO HIMIKO CODED

She likes to text her girlfriend about ANYTHING even though she knows Ochako won't respond right away. She uses kamojis (mainly the ":333") and sends Uraraka a lot of pictures of herself or little things about her day and Uraraka LOVES IT. If Toga ever stopped texting about everything, she would definitely find it weird

7- Drives/rides shotgun

As I said before: I'm pretty sure Himiko doesn't know how to drive, at least not yet. So she always gets rides from her girlfriend to go places. After all, Ochako knows how to drive (in my head...) And if Himiko were to ever drive, it would be a motorcycle!!!

8- brings the other lunch at work

BOTH!!! but one detail: toga doesn't know how to cook very well, so it's always a surprise if the food is going to be half-burnt or raw. Her specialty is making sweets, but she doesn't only live on sweets, so she trains a lot to cook something delicious and healthy for ochako. She always stares at Uraraka while they're eat together just to make sure that it's really tasty...

And when the food isn't good, ochako goes out to buy them something to eat. Money has always been something that Uraraka lacks in her life, so when she spends it on food for herself and her girlfriend, she just feels so happy and fulfilled. It's something important to her. Is a way of saying that she cares about Himiko and that she's happy that she can buy something for both of them.

9- Has the better parental relationship

Uraraka

I don't think I need to elaborate much...

10- tries to start role-playing in bed

I didn't quite understand the question 😭😭 that would be like something obscene right?

Honestly, I don't think Himiko would do that. She's certainly not innocent, but she's a little too shy and ashamed to try something. Especially something like RPG. I believe that in the beginning she would be very embarrassed and insecure, she wouldn't know what to do and would be more lost than ochako (who is also embarrassed and insecure).

And after talking and spending a lot of time together, they would stop being so embarrassed and insecure and could try new things. I don't think RPG would be one of them, because in RPG you need to make a character and Himiko wants Ochako and only her. Just like Ochako wants Toga and only that.

(sorry for giving such a vanilla answer 😭😭)

11- embarrassingly drunk dancer

HIMIKOOOOOO

She doesn't do sexy dances or anything like that, she just DANCES!!! and she doesn't know how to dance, so it ends up becoming somewhat embarrassing. She has a lot of fun doing this and doesn't care about people's looks... EXCEPT ONE, she only cares about one... (ochako looks at her as if she were the most precious thing in the world while she dances macarena with denki and kirishima).

12- still cries watching Titanic

*sigh*... himiko—

13- firmly believes in couple costumes

TOGA! She loves couples costumes and always has some creative idea of what to wear with Ochako on Halloween or other events. She seems very happy organizing everything, so Ochako doesn't even try to stop her. Himiko knows what she's doing and she's more than happy to follow in her footsteps.

(I didn't quite understand the question but I hope I answered it coherently) (english is not my first language)

14- breaks the expansive gift rule during christmas

I CAN'T STOP SAY HIMIKO

She would be so nervous and wanting to please that she spent all her money buying something that everyone would like 💔💔😭 she wanted them to like her and have a good impression

15- makes the other eat breakfast

BOTH

Ochako is always concerned that Himiko is eating well and Himiko always uses Ochako as a guinea pig to see if her cooking skills are improving 🙏🙏

16- remembers anniversaries

Hi....mi....ko 👹

She's the type of person who enjoys celebrating other people's birthdays more than her own. She always writes down everyone's birthday on her calendar and tries to give them a gift on that day. Unlike Ochako who always ends up forgetting and getting super nervous when she realizes it's a close friend's birthday

17- brings up having kids

It may sound crazy (or not), but it would be Himiko. She would try to talk about this with Uraraka to get out the feeling of thinking she would be a terrible mother, only for Ochako to assure her that she would be one of the best mothers. I don't think they would have children any time soon, but they would definitely have a pet and take care of it as if it were a child.

Himiko would buy him clothes and Ochako would very reluctantly let him sleep in them despite the fact that they shed a lot of hair...

[thalialunacy]

[for the @calaisreno May Promptosaurus Rex; cw for toddler stuff, eg 💩 & 🤮]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) 19: weather (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) (30) (31)

'A-ha! We did it!' John says, possibly too chuffed as he holds up a freshly changed and dressed Rosie. 'We--'

She makes a very distinctive face, then grunts. John eyes her. 'Tell me that face doesn't mean what I think it means.'

Then he does the sniff test, and yes. Yes, it does mean that.

He lays her down yet again, fond exasperation tugging at his lips. 'Wee girl, why do you do this to me?' His mum has used the endearment on Harry their whole lives, so it's comfortable on his tongue as he reaches for wipes and a new nappy -- only to discover the stashes depleted. As in… nill.

John rolls several expletives around his teeth. But then Rosie giggle-gurgles up at him, and he swoops in to expel his breath instead on her cheek in the form of a huge raspberry. He almost doesn't hear the knock on the door.

He pauses, but then shrugs and picks her up. 'Sorry, sweetheart. Let's go see who's at the door, yeah?'

She is notably non-nonplussed. 'Livery?'

'Might be,' John replies as he reaches the building door and opens it. 'And it is!' His daughter claps and immediately reaches out for the spotty young man trying to wrestle a rather large box. 'Whoa, there.' John reins her back in; she wants to be friends with everyone, which is both endearing and alarming.

'Do I need to sign?' he says to the carrier, who, now that John's looking, isn't wearing any sort of uniform. He looks like a dishboy haphazardly and temporarily promoted.

'No, sir. I'm to bring it up to the flat.'

A seed of a thought germinates in John's head. 'That was your instruction?'

The lad nods, clearly trying not to show his impatience. John holds back a sigh, and opens the door wider to let him pass. 'By all means.'

And it's as John expected: Wipes, diaper rash cream, and nappies. They're even--though he really shouldn't be surprised--the correct size.

As soon as Rosie's changed (again), he's got his phone out.

'I trust the delivery made it in time?' Mycroft answers.

John spares them both the niceties. 'How?'

'Nothing untoward, I assure you. Sherlock texted me.'

'Right. And where is he?' They may have an… evolving relationship, but Sherlock is still Sherlock, and John can also admit he only vaguely remembers what the detective had said when he'd left earlier in the day.

'I believe the words "spleen" and "unidentified poison" are involved.'

'Excellent. Listen.' He clears his throat. 'I'll pay you back.'

'My mother would call that "vulgar," as you know.'

'And she's a lovely woman, but--'

'Discuss it with Sherlock, please. I've got work and must get back to it.'

He rings off. John stares at his phone.

Death by Holmes. That's it. That will be how his life ends.

---

Rosie has broken the laws of physics and/or cloned herself. She has. She must have done.

That's the only explanation for the sheer reach of mess he finds waiting for him after his clinic hours the next day. 'Bloody hell,' he breathes, standing in the flat's doorway and taking it in.

It's more than the usual whirlwind that happens when Sherlock's between cases and takes Rosie for the day - He claims loftily that he's putting her through intellectual paces, but really he just indulges her every whim, including her lack of enthusiasm for cleaning up. And it's not as if the flat was shining and organised to begin with.

John doesn't even have the bandwidth to log all the bits of chaos surrounding him. For heaven's sake, he hadn't even known they owned bubble solution. But, then again, they don't now, judging by the rather large soapy stain on the rug in front of the window, and the family of tipped-over empty bottles next to it.

'John!' he hears from Sherlock's bedroom. 'Come join us!'

He rolls his eyes, but goes anyway. The noises make it clear as to what they're doing, and John hangs his head before pushing open the door. He'd been hoping to at least have one nice mattress in the flat for a bit longer.

But no, currently Sherlock is holding onto an absolutely delighted toddler while, obviously, jumping up and down on the bed like he's seven. Actually, John fleetingly wonders if Sherlock even got to do such things when he was seven--

'Come on, John!'

--and the unabashed joy in Sherlock's eyes tells him his answer. With that, the resistance whooshes out of him. He toes off his shoes and joins them.

'We're testing the durability,' Sherlock explains, loudly, then swoops Rosie like an aeroplane.

John laughs, huffs of air as he jumps and watches his daughter. She seems to be enjoying herself, except-- 'I think she might--' He stops, reaches out. 'Sherlock, she's going to v--'

With a small noise of surprise, Rosie is, indeed, sick. The remnants of whatever they'd had for tea form a lovely puddle on Sherlock's expensive sheets.

The grown-ups both manage to avoid it, scrambling backwards and into each other, somehow. John, lungs tight, reaches for his daughter, not caring that she's got sick all down her front. 'My girl,' he says, going for soothing, knowing her reaction could go either way. 'Did that surprise you?'

Rosie, wide-eyed, lets out a small hiccough. Then her face crumples, and she starts to sob.

'Oh dear,' Sherlock says faintly.

John, because he's a bastard, feels laughter start to bubble up in his lungs.

Then he hears Sherlock repressing chuckles next to him, and the floodgates are open, them laughing together like errant schoolboys.

'We musn't giggle near an ill child!' Sherlock admonishes, but it works no better than it had the week they met. John bumps Sherlock's shoulder and curls Rosie into his chest, rubbing her back and putting his lips to her forehead in between breaths. She's not feverish, she just likely got swooped about like an aeroplane too soon after tea, so John relaxes and lets himself go, laughing like an idiot in dirty sheets with a dirty baby and a spotless Sherlock (somehow, the bastard).

Then there's a knock at the door. The door of the flat, not the ground floor.

He and Sherlock exchange glances, no longer laughing; even Rosie has geared down from wailing to whimpering. John shrugs.

'Come in,' Sherlock says, loudly, because of course he does; he doesn't give a toss what people think of his cleaning habits. 'We're in the master bedroom.'

A formidable grey-haired woman with a tight chignon and very no-nonsense shoes appears in the bedroom doorway. She takes in the situation, and then she tuts. Actually tuts, in a distinctly Edwardian way that John hasn't heard since his grandmother passed. 'Just as Mr Holmes suspected.'

Sherlock purses his lips. 'Mycroft sent you?'

'He certainly did. Now, out of those clothes and into the bath, please, all three of you.'

Sherlock opens his mouth to protest but the Look she gives him has him shutting it with a snap.

John would laugh if he had the fortitude. 'Beg pardon, ma'am, but he sent you because…?'

'Because you lot are a mess, a fact of which you seem to be unaware.'

John and Sherlock exchange another look. 'Fine,' Sherlock says curtly. 'But could you be so kind as to leave the room while we undress?'

'Certainly.' She gives a short nod, then turns on her heel and exits down the hall.

'Hang on,' John whispers loudly as they start to unbutton and unzip. 'Mycroft sent us a nanny?'

'I'm relatively certain she's his housekeeper, and just on loan for this evening.'

'I guess I should be surprised.'

'No, you shouldn't, as you're not entirely without wits.'

'Such flattery.'

'Dull.'

'It's almost sweet of your brother, really.'

Sherlock points a finger at him. 'Don't you dare.'

John's lips quirk. 'Don't worry, I won't send him a fruit basket or anything. I just-- I appreciate that he indulges a child he hardly knows, that's of no relation to him.'

Sherlock clears his throat. 'Yes, well, be that as it may, I say we take full advantage.' He pulls the now-naked toddler out of John's hands and heads towards the loo.

John watches them go, feeling quite swirled around by the last half an hour's events. But then he shakes his head at himself and his navel-gazing, and follows them.

---

John's phone buzzes while he's at work the next day, and he doesn't pay it much mind until he sees it's the day nursery. After he reads the message and is able to breathe again-- Jesus, being a father is not for the weak, is it-- he thumbs one to Sherlock. 

Did you get the updated pickup address from the minder? Trip to park rained out. 

He doesn't get a reply, not right away or in the next few hours. 

This could, of course, mean a few things. John firmly puts away the worst case scenario, and reckons a case has taken priority, seeing as Sherlock knew John was available for pickup if necessary. 

So, needless to say, he's surprised when he arrives at the given address. One, because Sherlock is there waiting. And two, because it's… 

John stares.

'John,' Sherlock says after a moment. 'I'm afraid my brother has outdone himself.' 

'Yes, well.' He coughs. 'I'm afraid he's turned an indoor football pitch into a Disneyland for toddlers.'

'As I said.'

'Jesus Christ.' He wonders how long Mycroft's been planning this. 'Wait-- Was this just because of the rain today?'

'Knowing Mycroft? Yes. Is that not a proportional response?'

John can hear the amusement in Sherlock's voice. 'Definitely not,' he replies, but his cheeks hurt from repressing a smile. 'Hang on,' he says. 'Why are you here? You didn't return my texts, I figured you were in the middle of a corpse or something.'

'Mycroft told me to stay put.'

John snorts. 'Didn't you think he might be using trick psychology to get you here?'

Sherlock scoffs. 'Soft science, that.'

'Sure.'

'Daddy! Sherlock!' John looks away from Sherlock at that particular mispronunciation of his flatmate's name, and is barreled into by a clumsy sparkly dervish. 

'What--' He automatically reaches down to pick her up, then does a double take at the elaborate butterfly painted onto nearly her whole face. It's basically a work of art, honestly, and he has no idea how someone got her to sit still for that long. 

'They are hired for speed,' Sherlock says to him, and he laughs, still impressed after all these years. 

'Incredible.'

Sherlock glances at him. 'Whether you mean the artwork or my deducing your question about the artist, you are correct.'

John ignores him and listens to his daughter chatter enthusiastically. The words "bouncy castle" and, somehow, "golf" filter out of it, and John chuckles.

Then he hears her say something that makes him double-take. 'Pardon? Say that once more, sweetheart.'

'Uncle Mycroft!' she repeats. Or at least, most of those letters. Enough to confirm.

John's jaw clenches. 'Did he tell you to call him that?'

She nods enthusiastically. 'He's fun!'

This jars John from his confused dismay, and he hears Sherlock snort, too. 'I suppose he can be, in his own way.'

'Don't lie to your daughter, John.'

John tries not to laugh, and nearly succeeds.

You're going to have a hard time topping this for her next birthday, he writes to Mycroft. He doesn't get a reply, but he supposes that's fair.

They get halfway through the relatively short walk home. Halfway. Before the heavens open up, changing from an aggressive mist to actual splotchy rain.

John swallows a curse, ducking under an awning and already anticipating Rosie wailing about prematurely losing her face art, about being cold and wet and out of doors. 

But when he looks at them, at Sherlock swinging his daughter down from where she'd been perched on his shoulders, he sees nothing but joy on her face.

Joy, and wet streaks of glittery violet paint. She's clinging to Sherlock's hands, and Sherlock looks -- Well, he looks really bloody happy, if John had to label it. But he hesitates in doing so, and resigns himself to just enjoying the moment.

'What,' he says once he's recovered his voice, 'Mycroft can't have a drone deliver us an umbrella?'

Sherlock chuckles, then sobers. 'He does adore her, you know.'

John looks at Sherlock, not quite hiding his surprise. 'And you're alright with that? With "Uncle Mycroft"?'

Sherlock's eyes flash with something, but John isn't quick enough to categorise it. 'A child should have a variety of influences in their life.'

'True, but--'

'And an expanded support structure they can rely on. I daresay Mycroft qualifies, don't you?'

John nods shortly, finding himself unable to form useful words.

Luckily, Sherlock does it for him. He sweeps Rosie back up into his arms and boops her nose, which makes John's eyes cross with cognitive dissonance but there it is all the same. 'Shall we continue walking and enjoying the rain?' the detective asks Rosie. 'And then have a nice bath and some tea? I'm sure your father will make up a fire, too.'

John swallows. 'Sure, yeah.'

Heart warm enough to hurt, he follows them out from under the cover and into the storm.

Time's too short, he reckons, to fuss about dreary weather.

[ <3 ]

[inspiration: Richard Shindell's 'The Weather'. Also consulted bubbleinc.co.uk, obviously.]

[sooverwhitesandpinks]

Bejeweled

Ceo!Harry Styles x Gf!Reader

Inspired by Bejeweled by Taylor Swift.

Warnings: angst?, fluff at the end, alcohol consumption, i think that's all. i did proofread, just not carefully.

Word Count: 2.1K

guess who finally wrote something! sorry for the months long writer's block, hope you enjoy.

Your phone lit up where you left it on the coffee table in front of you. Keeping your thumb between the open pages of your book, you reached for the device, hoping it was a text from your boyfriend.

You couldn't help but feel disappointed when you realized it was a message from your good friend, Hannah. You weren't disappointed because of Hannah, you were upset that today was becoming another one of those days without a word from Harry.

You knew being the CEO of a major company was a lot of time and dedication, but it had been months of only seeing Harry briefly in the morning and for an hour or so before bed.

As much as you loved him, you weren't getting any of that love or attention back.

'Anya, Erin, and I are going out tonight, you should join us. We haven't seen you in forever!!!'

Hannah's message stared back at you.

She was right. You hadn't been out in forever, and it's not like Harry would miss you tonight. You two were practically coexisting at this point. You stayed cooped up in this massive penthouse, Harry spent his days in his office or at business meetings and dinners. His weekends were taken up by work or trips related to the company.

Still, did you want to go out? You wouldn't mind getting ready for something other than the grocery store.

You decided you would give Harry a chance before answering Hannah. You pressed a few buttons on your phone before bringing it to your ear.

"Hello?" Harry answered on the fourth ring.

"Hey! How's your day going?" You replied, happy to hear his voice.

"It's fine so far-" You heard him shuffle around before giving someone an instruction. "Look honey, is this important? Because I've got a lot going on and my next meeting starts in a few minutes."

"Oh," you paused for a moment. "I was just wondering if you wanted to get dinner tonight? We haven't really seen each other the past couple months."

"I've got a business dinner tonight, but feel free to order in whatever you want. You know I don't mind. Was that all?" He asked.

You took a second before answering. It was one thing to practically ignore you, but it was another to make you feel unimportant. You remember when Harry made you feel like a priority, and now your relationship had been reduced to a 'good morning' and a 'goodnight'.

"Yeah, that's all," you shook your head, a sad smile tugging at your lips.

"Alright, I'll see you this evening," Harry said.

"I wouldn't count on it. I'm going out, don't wait up," you told him before hanging up.

'I miss you guys and I definitely need a night out! Where and when should I meet you?' You texted Hannah back.

5 hours later, you stood in front of the full length mirror in your closet, running your hands down the vintage Versace mini dress you picked out for some event of Harry's but never ended up wearing.

You felt good, great even. You took a long, relaxing shower. You had a glass of wine while you did your makeup and put every hair in place. It had been so long since you put time into yourself like this, you'd forgotten what it felt like to sparkle.

You grabbed a small handbag and walked out of the large closet. As you made your way out of your bedroom and down the hall, you heard the familiar sound of Harry's keys hitting the small table by the door.

With a smirk, you stepped around the corner and into view. You pretended to hardly notice Harry's presence as you grabbed your phone off of the couch and texted Hannah that you would be leaving in a few minutes.

You heard Harry's footsteps halt as he saw you. You waited a moment before looking up at him. You glanced down at the time on your phone.

"It's only 8:15, I thought you'd be at dinner," you said nonchalantly, slipping your phone into your purse.

"I moved it up a few hours so I could get home earlier," he answered, shrugging off his suit jacket.

"Ahh," you nodded, starting to walk past him and toward the door. He gently grabbed your arm and you let him, looking up at him expectantly.

"You're still going out?" He asked, brows furrowed. For just a second, you felt bad about leaving. Then you remembered how easily he dismissed you earlier on the phone, and how easily he's dismissed you for awhile now.

"Yeah, I told Hannah and the girls that I'd meet them in a few," you replied, watching his eyes scan over your body and back up to your face, pausing on your lips.

"But I moved my meeting so I could see you," he responded, his fingers slipping from your arm to your hand. His touch felt good, you'd missed him, but he can wait another night. You finally felt like you weren't the one left hanging.

"I'm sorry, am I supposed to stay home the one time I made plans because you suddenly found a way to fit me into your tight schedule?" You tilted your head, matching his pout.

"Besides, you're seeing me now. I clean up nice, huh? I bought this dress for one of your events but it'll do for tonight."

"Honey-"

"Is this important? My ride is downstairs," you said, keeping your eyes on his. You watched it click as he realized he asked you the same thing hours ago. You raised a brow, pursing your lips.

"I guess not," he took a step back. "You look beautiful, love. Have fun tonight."

"I will," you smiled, finally walking to the door and stepping out of the house.

✨ 🪩 ✨

"I"m just a little tipsy," you slurred, holding up your thumb and pointer finger.

"Me too!" Hannah squealed, throwing her arms into the air.

Anya and Erin were still out on the dance floor, but you and Hannah were tucked into a large circle booth in the VIP section of the club.

You sat with the members of some band you'd never heard of. They were apparently a big deal. Hannah was obsessed with them and had scored herself a seat on the lead guitarist's lap.

You sat between one of their friends and the drummer, who was high out of his mind, chatting away with some other people that'd made their way up to VIP.

"You wanna dance?" Hannah asked, grinning wildly from across the table.

"Definitely," you nodded. You turned to the drummer beside you who was blocking your way out.

"Moonstone!" He smiled when you turned to him. He'd been calling you that all night, something about your aura. He referred to Hannah as Amethyst and Erin as Sapphire, you didn't catch Anya's.

"Can I squeeze past you?" You asked, pointed toward the outside of the booth.

"Of course," he nodded, nudging his friends out of the booth with him so you could get to where Hannah stood.

As soon as you were free from the table, one of your hands was grabbed by her as she dragged you down to the dance floor. Your other hand was looking at your phone for the first time all night, checking to see if Harry had said anything.

You saw two messages from him.

'I took tomorrow off. I figure we could spend the day together.'

'I miss you and I'm sorry for not making you feel as important as you are. I'll hopefully spend the rest of my life making it up to you.'

Despite the frustration you felt for months because of him, you felt a lot of relief in that moment. He did still want you. He still wanted forever with you. It wasn't something you realized you'd doubted until now.

'I hope you know I expect an apology in person too.'

You texted back. Simple enough to communicate that it will take more than a text message.

'And I'm excited to spend tomorrow with you. But I'm drunk so can we start around noon?'

You added, finally looking up from your phone as Hannah pulled you deeper into the sea of dancing people. You realized she'd located Erin and Anya.

"You still wanna dance?' Hannah shouted, starting to feel the music. You hadn't noticed it before, but it was deafeningly loud.

"Maybe just for a little while. I'm getting tired," you replied, suddenly not wanting to be anywhere but home.

"Are you okay getting home by yourself?" She asked.

"I'll just get an Uber," you shrugged. "I'll pretend to be on the phone with Harry if the driver seems shady."

"Fair enough," she laughed, turning more towards Anya and Erin.

"Bye ladies, it was fun seeing you. We gotta get lunch sometime soon," you leaned in between Erin and Anya to speak, hoping they'd hear you well enough.

The two drunk and sweaty women gave you a half hug, agreeing to lunch and wishing you a goodnight before they went back to senselessly jumping to the music.

You ordered the car as you walked to the door, only stepping outside when the app said it arrived.

The ride was short and your driver was nice enough.

As you entered your building and pressed your button on the elevator, you wondered if Harry was awake. You hadn't heard from him in almost an hour when he'd texted you to say noon was fine and to be safe.

You walked through the house, stepping out of your shoes at the door and carrying them with you to the bedroom. Harry sat up in bed, his computer in his lap as he typed away at something you were sure was work related.

"Hey Honey," he said softly as you entered, closing his laptop and setting it on his side table.

"Hey," you smiled, walking straight into the closet to change.

As you stepped out in your pajamas, Harry pulled open the covers, waiting for you to crawl in beside him.

You slipped under the duvet and dropped your head onto his lap, eyes closed. You heard him rustle around in the drawer of his nightstand before he pulled something out and closed the drawer.

You opened your eyes in time to see him pull a makeup wipe from its package.

"How was your night?" He asked, lowering the wipe to your face as he started to gently remove what was left of your makeup. It was something he used to do for you after his work events and charity galas. Or when the two of you would stumble in drunk after a night out.

"It was a lot of fun," you answered honestly. Those four or five hours were fun. You saw your friends and felt good about yourself.

"I'm glad," he replied, still brushing the wipe across your skin.

"How was yours?" You asked, genuinely curious.

"It was alright. I did a lot of thinking," he waited a bit before adding. "I missed you."

"But you didn't have to, Harry," you sighed. "I've been here the whole time, and it took me doing something for myself, for once, to get your attention."

"I'm so sorry, Honey. I've been terrible. I've just been so caught up in work and trying to land this account," he started explaining.

"I know, trust me, I do. That's why I haven't nagged you about it, but I deserve to feel like a priority, Harry. I know your work is important, but I should be too. We've been coexisting for almost two months now. We're supposed to be a team," you finally told him what's been on your mind.

"We will be, we are," he finished wiping your skin, now taking your face between his hands as he looked down at you. "You're it for me and I'm sorry for making you doubt that."

"You should be. I'm a goddamn prize, you know?" You told him with your tired tipsy rasp. You lifted yourself from his lap, sitting up to face him.

"Of course I do, Honey. You're a diamond, a pearl, a jewel," he grinned, taking your chin between his thumb and pointer finger.

"I love you," you said softly, looking into the eyes that finally felt familiar again.

"I love you too," he leaned forward, closing the short distance between you.

Masterlist

Harry Styles Masterlist

[i-magines]

Wildest Dreams: Chapter 3

Pedro Pascal x fem!Reader

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5 | CHAPTER 6  | CHAPTER 7 | CHAPTER 8 | CHAPTER 9 | CHAPTER 10

synopsis: You’re an assistant director in an indie movie set and fate makes sure you keep crossing paths with a certain Chilean actor.  

disclaimer: This is my first Pedro Pascal’s fictional work + the first fanfic I write in English, as it isn’t my first language. Unfortunately, I do not own Pedro and this is all a product of my imagination.

rating: M (keep scrolling if your under 18 please)

warnings: age gap, mature content, fem!reader, eventual drinking and drugs, a little smut but nothing crazy (yet), a bit slow burn but not really.  

word count: 1,509

Over the first month, your friendship with Pedro only grew stronger. You were afraid once the production set was moved to the country, he was going to just disappear, as you were no longer roommates. You’d be lying to yourself if you said he didn’t make you feel anything, especially with how charming and flirting he was. You both had shared a lot of personal stuff over smoking joints and you were already used to hanging out together after a day of filming. But today things were going to be different, because the producers had organized a little happy hour for the crew.

Speaking of them, you had asked Pedro to keep your friendship on the low, at least during the job. You knew what everyone would say and think, mostly about you alone, so you were looking after yourself. He understood that and apparently didn’t care to be sneaking out like a teenager to spend some time with you.

“There you are”, Pedro happily greeted you on the corner of the happy hour room, about two hours into the event. “I almost didn’t get the chance to see you today. How’s everything going?”

At this point, you were certain the director hated you, but thank God he was the only one. Everyone else seemed to really like you and your work, which helped a lot with your anxiety.

“He spent the day trying to drive me crazy… Again”, you told Pedro. “You?”

“I would definitely rather be directed by you, if I’m being honest” he said in sympathy. “But yeah, it won’t take long for me to tell him to fuck off. Super nicely, of course.”

You both laughed. You could see he had been drinking and so did everybody in the room. Somebody turned up the music and Pedro dragged you to the improvised dance floor. You danced for about half an hour, until you saw him going to talk to Donna, one of the producers. They seemed friendly— too friendly, if somebody asked your opinion. You noticed it before, how close they acted sometimes, but at the end of the day, it was none of your business. Flo, the make-up artist that got you the job, got your attention and you walked to her.

“What’s up with that face?” She shot you the question. Flo was in her mid 40s and you got to know her in your first gig, since then she was always trying to connect you with people. You really liked her and, most importantly, trusted her. “You looked like you were about to commit murder on the dance floor. I know Dave is giving you a hard time, but honestly he is doing this to every single soul.”

“I was just wondering, is Donna taken?”, you asked as if you had no intention behind it.

“Yeah, I think so”, she told you. “Why? You gay too?”

“Someti— wait, what?” You stared at each other for a few seconds. “Is she?”

“As far as I know”, she said simply. “And by that I mean I’ve known her for about 10 years now. Sorry to disappoint you.”

“No, you didn’t. I mean, good for her, right.”

You decided you need to put your shit together now on. You excused yourself and went to get another drink — you can be a new woman tomorrow. You took some shots and got a drink to hold while you watched everyone dancing and having a good time. You tried to force yourself to stop thinking about your crush on Pedro.

“I need professional help”, you whispered to yourself.

“And why is that?”

“Shit, Pedro!” You jumped, realizing he was right by your side. “You scared the shit out of me, you shithead.”

“Wow, language, sweetheart”, he laughed at your reaction, putting his arm over your shoulder. “What are you up to?”

“Not much, just enjoying the free drinks”, you replied, also enjoying the proximity of his body. “I can see you’re enjoying them yourself.”

“Nah, I’m thinking about getting out of here, people are starting to get too drunk and God forbid I witness anything I can’t unsee”, he was being playful and seemed happy when he got a smile out of you. “Care to join me? Or you already have plans for tonight?”

“Yeah, you know me, Miss Popularity herself”, you both laughed. “Seriously, though. I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Is it okay if we leave together? Considering your privacy policy”, he whispered in your ear. Only if he knew how weak that makes you. You just nodded. “After you, mi princesa.”

Fuck you, Pedro Pascal, you thought as you made the effort to move your shaking legs. Two options: first, he had no idea of his effects on you, or second, he did know that and he just liked to torture you. However it is, you were not willing to make a move to figure it out. 

The location of the shooting was a huge farm, so you walked together through the open field, towards his cabin. You got inside and took your shoes off.

“Hey, mister ‘I’m just a common worker as everybody else’, tell me again why exactly you are the only one with a private hot tube”, you teased him. He laughed. “Is it because you’re such good friends with Donna?”.

“So that’s what it was about back in the happy hour?” Pedro looked deeply into your eyes. “Such a jealous little girl, uh?”

You looked away, embarrassed. You can’t deny your brain formulated that sentence, but the alcohol spilled it out your mouth.

“Answering your question, I’m not really friends with Donna, but her partner is one of my closest colleagues in the industry”, he said in a patient tone. “And you’re welcome to use the hot tube whenever you feel like it.”

You could feel your cheeks burning. Fuck.

“I didn’t mean to— to be honest, I don’t even know what I meant, so don’t mind drunk Y/N”, you breathed out strongly.

“Why don’t we forget about it and instead go chill in the hot tube?” He offered you a smile. Pedro was so easy to deal with, always trying to make you comfortable. “I have more of that nice whisky you like.”

You quickly put on your bikini in your room and head back to Pedro’s cabin. You could hear the happy hour turning into a party on the back, as you joined him inside the tub. You did your best to not stare at his toned, tanned body. He was smoking a cigar and handed you a glass.

“You know what’s funny”, he started, you already knew you wouldn’t find it funny at all. “This is the second time I see you in a tub.”

“Well, fuck you very much sir”, you held a serious face before letting a smile scape. “That was traumatic.”

“Why is that? I would say you made quite an impression”, he laughed, something different sparkling in his eyes. “Would it bother you if I said I still think about it?”

You felt your body hot, as if the water was on boiling point.

“God”, you whispered. He never took his eyes off yours. “I don’t know what to say, Pedro.”

“It’s a simple question, sweetheart”, he replied, coming a little closer. You got chills all over your body. “Honestly, I don’t know if you only see me as this friendly, older, disgusting man—”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” you cut him before he could finish. “Feel free to think about whatever you like.”

“Good”, he said quietly, his body even closer, but still not touching yours. “Tell me what you were doing on the tub that day, sweetheart.”

“I-I was, uh,” you felt like you were about to explode, your brain trying to process if this was really happening. “I was touching myself.”

“Finally, princesa”, he let out a deep breath against your neck. “You don’t know how many times I wanted to hear you say this, to be sure my memory wasn’t fucking with me.”

He touched your waist with his hand, putting the cigar away with the other one. You felt delirious.

“What are you going to do now that you know?” The question popped out of your mouth.

He grabbed your arm to move your body, making you sit on his lap. Face to face. He was hard as fuck.

“I will take you back to your cabin, give you a goodnight kiss…” He made a pause. His stare was deep down your soul. “Come back to mine and think ‘bout you while I mind my own business.”

He was dead serious.

“I’m too horny to go to sleep”, you cried to him, all your blood concentrated between your legs. You moved on his lap, rubbing against his cook.

“Trust me”, he said as his hands firmly held your hips down, making you stop and yet feel him ever harder. “I feel the same way.”

He gave you a little forehead kiss.

“C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

CHAPTER 4 AVALIABLE NOW

TAGLIST: @kyuupidwrites @omg-its-typical-aesthetics-fan @vivibabiez @ivyohmy @sebastianstansimp @tubble-wubble @28cnn @3zae-zae3 @technicallysassyfox @bellatrixyoass @mandolover86​ (edit: i’m not sure why i wasn’t able to tag everybody i’m trying my best here)

[bmwiid]

I had a virtual 'conversation' at work via an anonymous questionnaire they send out every 3 months.

Its full of the dumbest motherfuckin questions you ever heard, and you have to rate each one out of 10, and then (if you like) to leave a comment on why you have rated it. Every three months. 30 questions.

And the questions are so fucking stupid because they want certain answers, right?

"How likely are you to recommend our product to friends and family?"

and they want you to put: "10 - I legit orgasm when I get the chance to talk about our products! I'll recommend it till the day I die! "

And then they don't understand why I keep putting low marks. So this time, they came back (its anonymous but they can reply to comments, they just don't know WHO made the comment) over a few of my ratings as they were 'very low' (very low is anything under 8, by the way)

Q: You put 5 for recommending our product - can you tell us why?

A: I don't recommend products to people at all. Especially not things like insurance, operating systems, or banking. I never have, and I never will.

Q: Ah, I understand, the question was meant to say "if you were asked about our product specifically, how likely are you to recommend it?

A: Then that is what it should have asked.

-

Q: You gave a 5 for "If I was offered the same role at another company, how likely would you be to leave?" Can you please tell us why you scored so low?

A: It would depend on what I would gain at the other place. If it was more money, or less hours for the same money, or increased benefits or other perks.

Q: The question was worded in a way to suggest that the role and perks/salary would be the same. In that case, would you change your answer?

A: The question only talked about the role. I think, unless there were serious issues at this job, no one would leave for the same job and pay unless there was a benefit to changing.

Q: It was meant to be a question of loyalty to your team and role here, how dedicated you are to the company as a whole.

A: I'm not dedicated to a company. I work here to pay bills and support my life outside of work. If I were offered another job with better perks/better pay, I would leave to better my life.

-

Anyway, we all got a mandatory meeting today about thinking "What the questions MEAN and to think about the CORE of the question"

I think they might want to run them by an autistic person first before sending them out. Because you ask a question, and we (those who like to dance around the spectrum like a fuckin pinball on crack) will answer the QUESTIONS THEY ACTUALLY ASK.

I also think they don't like being able to give me a meeting directly because they are clinging to the 'nonny' bullshit lie.

They know exactly who fills them in. we've got PERSONAL LINKS and cant share them FOR A REASON.

[pitufitaispunk]

Velvet Ring

Chapter Two: Florería

Pairing: Riff x Latina! Reader (West Side Story 2021)

Velvet Ring Masterlist

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

I hurriedly make my way from the apartment to the florería just a few blocks away on Mulberry Street, hoping I wouldn't be late. Señora Rivera, albeit kind and generous, was a very strict woman. Especially when it came to punctuality. I sigh in relief as I check my watch just before entering the shop — 8:58am, three minutes early. I push open the door and rush inside.

"Buenos días, Señora Rivera." I say cheerily, the little bell above the door jingling as I walk in. I look around curiously as I'm met with silence, then laugh as I spot her snoring in her rocking chair behind the counter. I tiptoe to the back room and find my coworkers, Marisol and Lupita sat at the tiny circular table set up in one corner, gossiping away. They look up at me with wide eyes as if they were children who had been caught eating sweets before dinner.

"Buenos días, muchachas." I greet them, a slight smirk on my face as they giggle vivaciously.

"Buenos días, Y/N, ¿cómo están Anita y Bernardo?" Marisol asks, standing from her seat to tie her apron around her waist.

I hang up my purse on the coat rack next to the door and grab my own apron out of my cubby, "Eh, están bien. Nardo has been at the gym a lot lately, he's been coming home with more bruises and cuts. Me preocupa por el." Marisol and Lupita hum in understanding. I smile meekly and tie my apron tightly around my waist, "Pero Anita esta muy bien, she's been getting a lot of work at the dress shop. I ask her if she's tired of it, but you know Anita, she's a hard worker. Dice que está feliz de tener más trabajo."

Lupita tosses her graying curls up into a bun and laughs, "Esa Anita, I admire her really. I work with flowers for a few hours a day and then I go home, complaining to Berto that my back aches. No sé cómo me aguanta ese hombre." Marisol and I laugh. Lupita and her husband, Roberto, have been together since they were about my age and they've been married for 40 years now. Lupita always joked that Berto was probably tired of her and that one day he'd leave her for a less irritating woman, but every time he looks at her, all I see is love in his eyes.

Speaking of eyes, I still hadn't been able to stop thinking about that Jet I saw at the market today. His face kept popping up in my head, even though I have absolutely no interest in a boy like that. How could I? The Jets torment Puerto Ricans constantly, I even got a live demonstration of that today. But that didn't stop my wandering mind.

I snap out of my thoughts as Marisol pinches my arm teasingly, "¿Y tú, jovencita? Has Bernardo still been trying to find your future husband?" Lupita cackles at this, making me frown.

I sigh in exhaustion and nod, "He won't give it a rest. He's tried setting me up with at least 5 of his friends these past few months! They're all nice boys, pero... Bernardo me trata como una bebé."

Lupita pats my back, "No te preocupes, nena. He'll come around and see that he doesn't need to be so protective of you anymore." I give her a small smile and nod. I hope she's right.

Just then, the break room slams open. Señora Rivera stands there in the doorway, rubbing her tired eyes, "Muchachitas, ¿están aquí para trabajar o para hablar todo el día?" We all laugh and hurry out of the break room to get to work.

I take my usual place behind the counter, so that Señora Rivera can continue napping. Lupita begins putting the freshly delivered flowers into beautiful arrangements, while Marisol grabs her watering can and starts pouring into the pots of the flowers in the windows. It's this kind of perfect harmony everyday and although it can be a bit mundane at times, I wouldn't trade it for anything else.

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After a busy day, at 3:00, Señora Rivera sends us home, half an hour earlier than we usually get off. I guess she was feeling generous today. Lupita, Marisol, and I hurry to put our aprons away and grab our purses before walking out the back door into the alley behind the shop.

"¡Hasta mañana, Y/N!" They call to me as they walk towards the opposite end of the alley. Lupita and Marisol live a bit further away from the florería than I do, so they take the subway to and from work together.

"Hasta mañana." I call back before turning to walk away.

I then bump into a hard chest.

My heart drops. I feel too terrified to even look up at whoever I just bumped into, but then, I notice the familiar tattoos on their arms. I slowly lift my gaze and am met with those same blue eyes from earlier today. I don't say anything, I just stare up at the Jet. His face was curious as he looked down at me, it frightened me a little. I've heard that the Jets were unpredictable and in this moment, I couldn't tell if this boy was about to kiss me or kill me. At this point, I don't know which would be worse. His face breaks into a soft grin and he finally speaks to me.

"I saw you earlier today, didn't I?" He asks, his expression turning smug now. I quickly shake my head, not daring to speak. He laughs and it sounds strangely warm, "No, I did. I'd remember those big eyes of yours anywhere. You're like a deer in headlights. You usually like that?" He cranes his neck, trying to lower himself to my height. I shake my head again and he straightens up, smirking softly, "Well, I'll see you around, chica." He says those words with such confidence that it makes my brows pinch. How was he so sure he'd see me again? And what gave him the right to talk to me at all?

I huff softly and begin walking past him, clutching my purse tightly, just in case he tries something. I hear him chuckle behind me and I just know he's watching me walk away. The thought makes my cheeks flush furiously.

As I turn out of the alley, I bump into yet another hard chest. I huff a laugh, feeling a bit stupid now, before looking up. Luckily, it was a familiar face this time.

"Hola, Manuel. ¿Cómo estás?" I greet Bernardo's friend politely with a smile, softening my grip on my purse.

He smiles sweetly down at me, rocking on his heels, "Hola, Y/N. Estoy bien, what about you? You look a little startled." He quirks a brow at me, taking in my still pinched brows.

I relax my face and laugh awkwardly, quickly thinking of some absurd story in my head. "I'm fine, I just had a... uh, little scare with a stray cat in the alley. Pobrecito, deberías haberlo visto. He was all bones, chewing on an old shoe, but being skinny didn't stop him from nearly clawing my face off." I laugh again, Manuel laughs along with me, but I can tell he's just doing it to be polite.

He clears his throat and tucks his hands into his pockets nervously, "Y/N, quería preguntarte algo..." My lips quirk into a thin line. I had a feeling Bernardo would try and get another one of his friends to ask me out again, it had been too quiet lately. With the dance coming up in just a few weeks, I figured that's what Manuel would ask me about.

I quickly pretend to check my watch and suck in a breath of air through my teeth, "Ay, Manuel, perdón. I really have to go, Anita needs help with cleaning the apartment today and I promised I'd help her. ¡Adiós!" I wave to him and quickly run down the block. Sure, it was immature and rude, but I just couldn't deal with another one of Bernardo's insane matchmaking attempts today.

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I rush into the apartment and close the door behind me, slumping against it tiredly. At this time of day, Nardo was at the gym and Anita was at the dress shop. It was a small window of time in the apartment that was just for me.

I kick off my flats and hang my purse up on the key rack next to the door before waltzing into my bedroom. I kick my door shut and flop face down onto my bed, snuggling into my blanket. Thankfully, the heat had gone down just a bit and the yarn in my blanket didn't feel nearly as uncomfortable as it did this morning. I turn over onto my back and sigh contentedly, staring up at the ceiling. My moment of peace is then interrupted by a flash of the Jet's face in my mind. My smile drops. I turn onto my stomach again, bury my face in my pillow and groan in frustration. Why couldn't I get him out of my head? Maybe there's something wrong with me.

I climb out of my bed and walk over to my bedroom window, opening up the lace curtains to soak in the sunshine. I open up the window and climb onto the fire escape, hoping the fresh air would help me ease my mind. I sit on the steps and close my eyes, basking in the fresh air and sun rays. Then, I remember what that Jet said to me and it makes everything worse!

"I'd remember those big eyes of yours anywhere..."

I scoff to myself, my cheeks flushed. What did that even mean?! Was he trying to flirt with me? Did I like it? No. This is not happening. I don't even know his name! But I do know one very important thing. He is a Jet. That should be enough reason for me to drop this silly idea... but it isn't. That Jet was flirting with me and some sick part of me liked it. There is no denying it, no matter how hard I try. Just then, an idea strikes my mind. A way to get the Jet out of my head for good. A solution that's been staring me in the face, presenting itself to me time and time again. Well, now I will finally give in. Now, I will let it happen. I am going to let Nardo set me up with one of his friends.

This is sure to work! Most of Nardo's friends are handsome and fun. How could I possibly think of the Jet when I'm with a Shark? It's a foolproof plan. When Bernardo and Anita come home, I will surrender. After three long months of dodging dates left and right, I will tell Nardo that I've been considering his words and I've decided to go to the dance with one of his friends. Nardo will most likely choose Manuel. I wouldn’t be upset about it being Manuel. He's a good looking boy with his tan skin, curly brown hair, and perfect teeth. Yes, this is a good plan. A solid plan.

I smile triumphantly to myself before climbing through the window back into my bedroom. I sigh softly and begin tidying up a bit. I need to busy myself, I can't think about this too long or I'll regret it before it even happens.

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When Anita and Bernardo get home at around 5:00, I usher them to sit with me at the dining table. I smile at them, they both give me a look like I'm crazy, then I clear my throat, "I've decided on something. I think this will satisfy you both."

Bernardo quirks a brow at me, "Well, spit it out, pollita."

I laugh softly and nod, "Okay... I am going to let you choose my date for the dance."

Anita's eyes widen in surprise and Bernardo grins broadly, "¡Finalmente! I've been waiting for you to say this, it's a miracle!"

Anita rolls her eyes at him as he continues going on his rant of triumph. Nardo then stands from the table, "I'm going to tell Manuel!" He runs out of the apartment in excitement, shutting the door behind him.

Anita quirks a brow at me in suspicion, "So... why have you suddenly given up? What's going on with you?"

I pinch my brows, "¿De que estás hablando?"

She stands from her seat and circles the table until she stands before me, "You know what I'm talking about. Just today you were whining to me, saying that you didn't want to go to the dance because your brother would try to get you to go with one of his friends. What made you change your mind?"

I laugh, shaking my head, "Nada, I'm just trying to be a good sister and make life easier for my brother."

Anita gives me a look like she doesn't believe me, but backs off anyway, "Okay... if you say so, Y/N."

I give her a soft smile, "Don't worry about me, Anita."

She laughs, gently pulling me into a hug, "I always worry."

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[writingquestionsanswered]

Hello there!! Thanks for all the advice you’ve given thus far!! It’s been a huge help in my writing journey, though I find that the ONE thing I still struggle with is finding time to work on some of my current writing projects.

I work an 8-5 through the week, and on weeknights and weekends I’m trying to catch up on energy to prepare for the next week ahead. Do you have any tips or suggestions on what I can do to try and sneak some writing in? Thanks in advance!

Tips for Sneaking Writing Into a Busy Schedule

#1 - Figure Out Your "Three B's" - If you're struggling to fit writing into a busy schedule, the first thing you should do is figure out your "three B's"... the bare minimum, better, and best amount of time you can commit to writing each day. The bare minimum amount of time should be a ridiculously low number, ten minutes or less, that you can manage even on the busiest of busy days. The better amount should be the most reasonable amount of time... a balance between a logical amount of productivity and the reality of your schedule. If you have a lot of busy days, this should probably be somewhere between fifteen minutes and an hour. And finally, the best amount is kind of the "pie in the sky" number... the reasonable amount of time you'd commit to writing if you had a day off and not a lot to do. The goal here is to aim for that middle number most days, but on long days when you have no energy leftover for writing, you've still got to hit that bare minimum. You don't even have to actually write during this "writing time." You can re-read a scene or chapter, edit, revise, brainstorm, research, look at inspiration photos, read a craft book... anything that moves the needle on your WIP in some way.

#2 - De-Stress Writing - Our brains are wired to avoid things that cause us stress, and stressful things also take a lot of energy to deal with. So, if you get even a little stressed thinking about your WIP or writing in general, you're gonna have a harder time committing to that bare minimum, better, or best writing time. The best thing you can do to de-stress writing for yourself is to stop giving yourself a hard time for not writing, not reaching goals, not completing tasks, etc. Give yourself grace, tell yourself it's okay, you'll hit that bare minimum tomorrow. Other things you can do: set up a reward system for yourself for when you hit small but important goals, eat or drink a favorite treat while you write, burn a scented candle, or listen to some soft music.

#3 - Create a Writing Ritual - Sometimes it helps to take a few minutes to switch your brain into "writing mode." This can be any number of little things that tells your brain "it's time to write now." It can be putting your phone on silent, sitting in a particular spot, lighting a scented candle, repeating a mantra, doing some stretches or meditating, listening to a certain song or putting on a particular type of soft music, or even a particular treat or beverage. When you choose a few things like this to do every time you sit down to write, and only when you sit down to write, your brain will start to associate those things with writing which helps it slip into "writing mode."

#4 - Eliminate Distractions - This one is really important when you have limited time... When you sit down for your writing time, put your phone on silent or set up "do not disturb" so that only really important calls/texts will come in. Avoid radio stations or music with lyrics if the talk is going to distract you. Use an internet blocking app if you can't trust yourself to fall down Google rabbit holes. Let people know you're going to be writing during that time and ask them not to disturb you. Anything you can do to eliminate distractions will help.

#5 - Boost Your Energy - No matter how busy you are, most of us have time in our schedule to commit to writing, even if that means getting up fifteen minutes early. However, if we feel tired and lack the energy to write, it can be very easy to pretend that fifteen minutes isn't available or that we need every last minute of sleep we can get. In that case, try doing a little energy booster before your writing time. This might be having a cup of coffee or a high energy breakfast smoothie, it could be taking a cold shower or listening to an energetic favorite son. If you can move your body for a few minutes, that helps, too. Walking, running in place, or jumping jacks are great if you're able to do them. If not, energetically moving any part of your body can give you a little energy boost... enough to get you through that bare minimum writing time.

I hope that helps! ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[into-the-hellaverse]

Spoiled

Proofread and co-written with my lovely mutual, @razzle-n-dazzle

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Vox groaned as his monitor vibrated and beeped, sounding off his alarm to get up. He started to sit up, before getting smacked in the face by Valentino, who was still deep in dreamland and had no intention of getting up at the ever-so early hour of 8 AM.

Vox growled, now fully awake. He tossed Val's arm off, sitting up and stretching as he turned off the alarm. He looked to his side, noticing how his boyfriend took up half of his large bed. And that their girlfriend was missing. It was usual for her to be the first one out of bed, so Vox thought nothing was wrong.

When the Vees started their throuple, they developed unspoken rules or agreements, things they would do for each other. One of those things, food. Velvette took care of breakfast, since she was usually an early riser. She was usually up at 4 or 5 in the morning, so why not put together something quick for her boys? Vox would take care of lunch for the three of them, usually just ordering something from a nearby restaurant and having it delivered. He wasn't the best in the kitchen. And, by order of elimination, Valentino would make them dinner. He was fairly skilled and everything he made was good, so they had no complaints.

Vox stretched and yawned loudly as he walked to the kitchen. There was no sound of sizzling bacon, or the smell of fresh pancakes, or the beeping of the Keruig finishing their coffee. It was a little odd. That when he noticed the note written on the whiteboard on the fridge.

Busy schedule. Every demon for themselves. Love you, lazy fuckers.♡♡♡

Velvette

Vox smiled gently, starting the Keruig as he looked for something easy to make for him and Valentino. It didn't happen often, but they were used to the times when one of them had to skip their meal. Sometimes work just got in the way and there wasn't much you could do.

He found a box of pancake/waffle mix and followed the instructions on the back of the box, hoping that he wouldn't find a way to burn them this time. He turned and looked over his shoulder as best as he could when he heard foot steps coming towards the kitchen. A familiar groan and sigh filled the air as Vox felt two pairs of arms wrap around his torso. "Coffeeeeeee..." Valentino whined, pressing his forehead against the back of his monitor.

"Made it fresh," Vox said with a little smile, reaching up and grabbing Valentino's ridiculously large coffee mug.

"Where's Vettie?" Val asked with a yawn, taking his mug and filling it to the brim with black coffee.

"She had a busy schedule. Her note is on the fridge," he said, gesturing over to it as he finished up the last waffle.

"So you decided to burn breakfast?"

Vox glared at him. "One more comment like that and I'm breaking your dick. She'll probably get things sorted out in a couple days."

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One month. Velvette had been busy for one whole month. The longest time any of them had fend for themselves for a meal was two weeks, when Valentino had to work late for some porno he just had to finish. Velvette would leave before Vox or Val had gotten up and come back long after they were in bed. The couple of times they stayed up to wait on her, to try and get some explanation, she worked 50+ hours straight and passed out in her studio. If they tried to visit, all they got was "she's busy and not taking visitors", and her assistants wouldn't take any excuse or threat they gave. If they texted her, she would ignore it for hours and only give a response like "srry I was bsuy" and not give any other explanation. It was started to get really fucking sick. And they missed her cooking. You can only have so many almost-burnt waffles and half-cooked pancakes before you will willingly starve yourself until lunch.

Today at lunch, Vox ordered from Velvette's favorite restaurant and brought the food up to her studio. He ignored the interns trying to sheepishly explain why he couldn't go in, and he just barged in through the doors.

The studio looked terrible. It was like a hurricane came through and wrecked the place. Clothes, fabric, and various accessories laid strewn across the floor, and every surface was covered in similar messes. And the only sound echoing throughout was Velvette screaming some jumbled mess at her underlings.

Vox could finally see how badly this past month had affected her. Velvette always put thought and effort into her appearance. She wanted to keep up with the trends and look fabulous. But this look... It was disgusting, to say the least. Her red hair was thrown up into a messy bun. Not an aesthetically pleasing messy bun, an actual messy bun. Her hair was unwashed and unbrushed, just thrown up into a ball on top of her head and held together with a couple of hair ties. Hair was falling out of the "bun" and falling on her face, making her look almost deranged.

Vox got a better look at her face as she whipped around to yell at someone else. She wasn't wearing any makeup, which never happened with Velvette. Without any makeup, you could finally see all the stress on her face, the bags under her eyes from the lack of sleep, and what looked like the start of crows feet.

Her outfit looked so out of style, as well. She would put thought and dedication into each outfit she wore, making sure to stay up on the latest trends and wearing what was in style. But this? It was like she just grabbed a random outfit and changed as she was walking to her studio. And Vox was about 50% sure that her clothes were on backwards. Velvette looked like a mess. Vox knew he had to do somethi-

"WHAT THE EVERLOVING FUCK DO YOU WANT?!" Velvette screamed, finally noticing his presence. "GET THE FUCK OUT!!!"

"Yes ma'am." Vox put the food on the nearest table and practically ran out of the studio. As he walked back to his control room with a heavy sigh, he called Valentino.

"Hello, my darling~" Val said, making no big deal of throwing in the background. "How was our little princesa?~"

"Terrible, to put it bluntly," Vox said. "We seriously need to get her home tonight."

"Understood. Are we-"

"We're gonna have to. Cut your shoot early."

"Yes, sir~"

"Now is not the time, Val! Just cut the shoot and meet me outside in ten minutes."

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"Are you sure you don't want me to start cooking yet?" Valentino asked. Him and Vox had spent the whole afternoon shopping around, getting wine and ingredients and various gifts for Velvette to have a relaxing night in.

"Yeah. You'll have enough time when she gets back," Vox said as he paced by the bar. "She'll probably come storming in and rant for a while, at least 15 minutes but definitely close to 30. And then she's gonna take a shower-"

"And that will take close to an hour because she needs to clean at least a week of dirt and grime off her body," Valentino cut in, heading over to the bar.

"Yeah, probably closer to a month of dirt. I swear, she looked like walking shit...." Vox commented. "I can't imagine how stressful this month has been for her... Don't touch that!" Vox smacked Val's hand away from the full decanter of wine. "All of that is for Velvette. She's gonna need it. Get your own bottle."

Val rolled his eyes and grabbed another bottle. "You know she's going to drink half of it and throw it at the wall."

"And you know that she learned that maneuver from you," Vox said accusingly. "Just head into the kitchen when you hear a slamming door and work your magic, ok? This is for Velvette."

"I know, I know." Valentino sighed and chugged his glass, pouring a glass for Vox as well. "She's never pushed herself this hard. I just wish we knew what was going on..."

Vox took the glass and kissed Valentino's hand, gently rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. "We'll figure out tonight. It's gonna be ok..."

Valentino gave him a gentle smile, staring lovingly into his eyes. "You always know what to say..."

"That's why I'm the forefront of the fastest growing tech company in the city, possibly all of hell," Vox said cockily, taking sip while Val let out a laugh. He was about to let out another smart quip, when the front door slammed open and a certain someone stormed in.

"HOLY FUCKING HELL, I AM GOING TO KILL SOMEONE!!!" Velvette yelled, storming into the living room. Valentino turned tail and went to the kitchen as quick as possible, while Vox started pouring one of many glasses of wine for Velvette.

Velvette snatched the glass out of Vox's hand and drank it all before throwing the glass at the wall, just like Valentino said she would. She pulled at her hair and screamed at the top of her lungs while Vox poured another glass.

"Bad day?" He asked simply.

"Bad day?!" Velvette said with a murderous grin. "BAD DAY?! IT'S BEEN A BAD MONTH!" And off she went, yelling and screaming about everything that went wrong. Incompetent staff, late shipments, and worst of all, Claire. Fucking Claire. She was the worst model Velvette had. She was more demanding than Velvette herself, somehow! She had gotten the job because she was friends with another overlord, some hoity-toity bitch ass from a club in the entertainment district. Sophia or Sarah or whatever the fuck her name was.

"Anytime I try to fire her, she runs to that stupid little club with her stupid little friend and they come parading in the next day, demanding I put her in the next fucking show or on the cover of the next fucking catalog," Velvette said, finally slamming the wine glass on the bar rather than throwing it against a hard surface. Vox simply took the glass and refilled for her to pick up the next time she passed.

"And you know what?! There may not be another fucking catalog because that bastard Geoffrey CAN'T SEND A SIMPLE FABRIC SHIPMENT TO SAVE HIS SOUL!!!!!!" Velvette yelled, chugging the glass again. She stood in the living room, surrounded by little piles of glass while she panted. She finally looked at Vox, copying his blank stare. "Well?"

Vox was silent for a moment, trying to pick something to comment on. "Claire sounds like a bitch."

"Trust me, she is a nightmare." She approached the car and sat down, sighing and laying her head down on the counter. "I swear you would think it's Lucifer himself in disguise. I would think so too if I didn't know he staying at that...Hackshot Hostel with his daughter or whatever..."

"Hazbin Hotel," Vox said, pouring another glass for her.

Velvette shot her head up and glared at him. "Don't correct me."

"Yes ma'am."

Velvette gave another heavy sigh and took a little sip from the glass this time. "I'm just so tired..."

"I know, Vettie. Why don't you get cleaned up?" Vox said gently. "We got you some of that sugar scrub you like to use, and your favorite face cream." He went around the bar and helped her up, guiding her around the piles of glass to the bathroom.

"The one with the charcoal and brimstone mix?" Velvette asked with a smile.

"Mhm. And when you get done pampering yourself, I'll help you tame that rat's nest your hair has become."

Velvette covered her mouth and giggled. "Honestly, it's not that bad. It's certainly better than that hair catastrophe of '06."

"All I remember was you became a sobbing mess because you were going to have to shave your head," Vox commented. He stopped outside the bathroom and gave her a little push in. "Get yourself cleaned up, honey. Val should finish dinner soon after you get out."

Velvette smiled brighter. "Santa Fe Chicken with seasoned rice-"

"And garlic seared potatoes, yes," Vox finished for her. He smiled, watching her cheer to herself before shutting the door. He went back to the living room, watching as Val swept up the glass piles.

"I was gonna get them, Val," Vox said, taking the broom for him to finish sweeping up.

"I know," Val said. "I'm still waiting for that damn chicken to thaw, so I wanted to help. How's Vels?"

"She's doing better. She definitely needed to rant to someone." Vox took the dust pan, sweeping up the last couple of piles and throwing it all away. "She's in the shower now, if you wanna check on her."

"I won't interrupt her. She probably needs some along time." Val stood there, starting to stare into space while silence filled the room.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Vox asked, going back behind the bar to make them both a drink.

"How easy do you think it would be to get Claire to sell her soul to me?" Val asked, looking over at him.

Vox let out a laugh, pouring some alchohol and mixers into a shaker. "It won't be easy. If she's friends with Sophia, then she might have already made a deal or something. But...she could be accidentally caught in the crossfire of a turf war. Or accidentally get pushed off the roof."

"Or accidentally get shot 20 times," Valentino growled.

"Now, now, we can't shoot her. That's too obvious," Vox chastised, shaking up the drink and pouring it in one of the few glasses they had left. "Drink that and go back to the kitchen."

Val sighed gently and kissed his monitor, taking the glass and walking back to the kitchen.

And now, Vox was alone. He sighed as a comfortable silence filled the air. He searched the rows of bottles for something to drink, and pulled down a clear rectangular glass bottle, a little shorter and wider than most, that seemed to be delicately crafted; With smoothed out rigids and designs that capsulated the bottle. It smoothed out by the top and closed in to create a vase-like-opening, and sitting on top was the lid, square and designed to match the bottle. Vox smiled to himself and poured himself some of the amber liquor.

Velvette had gotten it for him a few years ago, when they first got together. She wasn't the best with words at the time, so she often expressed her love or gratitude with gifts. She said it was an "infinity bottle", and you would "sacrifice" the last two or three drinks of every bottle of whiskey or bourbon or whatever you drank, and you pour it into the bottle. Over time as you slowly fill the bottle with these "sacrificed" drinks, it would develop a unique flavor profile, built by memories and nights of drunken laughter.

Vox drank the small glass, and he couldn't help the smile that slowly appeared. He put the bottle back on the shelf and started to clean up to keep himself busy. He tidied up the bar area (and made a mental note to order more glasses), swept up any remnant pieces of glass, and cleaned up a few tiny messes in the living room. He got Val to help him move the coffee table as well before gathering up Velvette's hair care products and setting them on the side table in the living room. When there was nothing else for him to do, he finally got changed into some pajamas and sat on the couch, waiting for Velvette to come out.

Soft footsteps sounded through the living room, causing Vox to look over his shoulder. He smiled, seeing Velvette wrapped up in the new silk pajama set they had gotten her. It was a solid lavender color, with dark purple pentagrams sprinkled throughout. She wrapped herself up in the matching silk robe, with a black bonnet in hand and her hair in a towel wrap.

Velvette gave him a gentle smile. "You really went all out, didn't you?"

"Of course. You've worked so hard," Vox explained. "You deserve to be pampered, Vettie."

Velvette walked around the couch, plopping down on a pillow on the floor in front of Vox. "I think you two spoil me more than pamper me."

"Vettie, we don't spoil you enough." He took the towel off her hair, letting the tangled mess fall free of its cotton confines. He grabbed the paddle brush and some detangling spray, starting on a small section of the mess while Velvette searched the channels for something mildly interesting. She became enamored with some fashion competition, leaving her quiet and compliant while Vox slowly worked his way through the tangles.

After what felt like an eternity, Vox was finally able to pull the brush through her hair without snagging on a knot, and Velvette was criticizing the outfits the models were wearing. Well, she was criticizing the models more than their outfits.

"Blimp, elephant, fatass, skinny-ass, no ass, and.... Well, she just looks fugly," Velvette commented, drying some of the product out of her hair.

"Nah, she looks hot!" Valentino said as he brought in a couple plates of food.

"Hey! You should only have eyes for me, limp dick!" Velvette chastised. "She's not even that cute! Roadkill looks cuter than her!"

"She's hot because she looks like you," Val said with a smirk.

"Oh. Well, I guess I do see some resemblance," she said with a little blush.

Vox just laughed, helping Velvette get her hair in the silk bonnet. "But no demon in hell compares to you, my love."

"I know! You boys are fucking lucky you bagged me before some Sin did!" Velvette stood up and took her plate from Val, simply smirking at their laughter.

"Really? You think you're good enough for a Sin?"

"I'm good enough for Lucifer himself!" Velvette sat on the couch and got comfy, while Vox and Val cackled with laughter.

"Glad to have you back to your old self, Vettie," Val said as he calmed down.

"Well, when I get spoiled, I act spoiled." She smiled and leaned forward, giving Vox a kiss on his monitor. "Thank you. Seriously."

"It's no big deal, Vels. You deserve it."

"I cooked. Don't I get something?" Val complained.

Velvette rolled her eyes. "I'll suck your dick later."

"YES!"

And with that, they fell into a comfortable silence. Velvette made an occasional comment about some terrible tailoring, and the boys would agree, but not much else was said for the next few hours. After they ate, Val slowly migrated to the couch, sitting between his lovers and pulling them close. Velvette nuzzled up to his chest, and Vox did his best to lean his head on Val's shoulder. Having a tv head did make some problems when it came to cuddling.

Vox felt himself slowly falling in and out of sleep, hours passing in what felt like minutes. Late in the night, Val gently shook him awake and pointed to the girlfriend. The boys smiled, watching her mumbled about shoulder puffs and cravats in her sleep.

"Do you want her arms or legs?" Vox asked softly as he stood up.

"I'll take the arms this time." Val wrapped his arms around her torso and pulled her up. Vox grabbed her ankles and they carried her to the bedroom, gently placing her in her rightful spot in the middle of the bed.

Vox laid beside her, holding her close as his monitor darkened. Val joined soon after, throwing two of his four arms over them like he was trying to protect them, or trap them in the bed. It was probably him trapping them in bed.

▪︎□▪︎□▪︎□▪︎□▪︎

Vox groaned as his monitor vibrated and beeped, sounding off his alarm to get up. He held up a hand, catching Valentino's arm that was about to smack his monitor. He shoved the arm away and sat up, turning off his alarm as he yawned and stretched.

Vox looked beside him, noticing the absence of their girlfriend from the large bed once again. His heart sank slightly. Did Velvette run out again? He quickly got out of bed and practically ran to the kitchen. A smile came to his face when he saw Velvette at the stove, still in her pajamas as she made breakfast.

"Are you gonna keep standing there or are you gonna say hello?" Velvette said, breaking the silence.

"Just taking in this rare and beautiful sight," Vox said. He hugged her from behind and kissed the top of her head. "Morning, darling..."

"Good morning, my love." Velvette patted the side of his monitor. "I do have to head in to the studio, but it's just for a few hours. I'll be done by lunch and then I'm all yours."

"Good. You need a whole week off after that whole shit show," Vox pulled away, grabbing some mugs to make each of their coffees.

"Agreed," Velvette said with a sigh. "I just hope I can take care of Claire once and for all..."

"Oh, don't worry about it, Vettie. Me and Val have it handled," Vox said with an evil smirk.

Velvette turned and smiled at him. "I swear, you boys spoil me..."