#My grandma wears my ring every day and i wear hears

[crowned-peony]

Tell me of a sentimental item(s) you have

I wanna listen to the story about who gave it to you or how you got it

Is it with you every day? Is it somewhere safe?

[fingertipsmp3]

Does anyone else have a friend who will panic and call you if they don’t receive a response to their message within 15 minutes, but will regularly leave you on read or delivered or go fully MIA for days

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

The Hope in the Fault Lines | Part 3

Part 3 is finished folks! Warnings: some suggestive material, smut in the next part!!! (so minors probably shouldn't interact with any of this), car accident described, death of a sibling, PTSD, nightmares, pretty severe cold symptoms, 97 liners ft Wonwoo make an appearance Word Count: 7.6k

Read part one and part two here!! (and part 4 here)

“Hi, Mingyu,” you say weakly into the phone.

“Hi,” he says. “You sound awful.”

You look around your bedroom, littered with used tissues, cough drop wrappers, and every blanket in your house that doesn’t belong to Sara. “I am awful,” you groan. “I didn’t know one person could be responsible for so much mucus.”

He laughs his charming, high-pitched giggle. “What’s the move, boss?” he asks you. 

“Well, I’m not going to work,” you tell him. “And maybe you shouldn’t either. I’m worried you’ll get sick if you come over.”

He scoffs. “I’m offended. I never get sick.”

“Well, still,” you say stubbornly. Already exhausted from the conversation, you lean against the headboard, coughing pathetically.

“I don’t think you should try to take care of Sara when you’re like this. You should be resting,” he says, his voice taking on that specific color it gets when he’s concerned. “And someone needs to take care of you, too.”

“Don’t come, Mingyu,” you protest, wondering at the blush now rising in your cheek.

“I’m coming,” he says with finality.

“Why did you even ask me what I wanted to do if you were just gonna do the exact opposite thing?” you ask him grumpily.

“Because I know you don’t think you need to rest, but the rest of us do,” he tells you, and you can almost hear him rolling his eyes.

“The rest of us?” you ask him, stifling another cough.

“Yeah, like, every single friend you have.”

You lose the battle with your lungs and cough violently for a moment, which is good, because it hides how touched you are that Mingyu has lumped himself with your friends. Then, “fine. But stay out of my room. I don’t want you to get sick.”

“I’m not going to get sick. Have you eaten yet?”

Your silence earns a sigh from Mingyu. “I’ll make something when I get there. Hang tight, boss.”

It seems like hours before the doorbell rings and you have to drag yourself out of bed to answer it. The spring day is gloomy, and as you open the door a flood of cool morning air sweeps over you, making you shiver uncomfortably. But there he is, and he’s taking in the sight of you with an eagerness that belies the mundaneness of your meeting. Something seems to have changed between now and the hospital visit, but although words are your life’s work, you can’t put a name to what it is.

“Hi,” he says, and his voice is a little more shy than you’ve ever been used to hearing. The reasons for this newfound bashfulness completely unknown to you, you curse yourself for the way your heart nearly beats itself out of your chest. 

“Hey,” you croak, throwing up a peace sign. You know you look bad. Your hair is a greasy, kinky mess, you’re wearing your worst grandma nightgown, and you didn’t even have the energy for contacts today, so your face is covered with thick spectacles.

He laughs. “That’s a really cute outfit, boss.”

“Shut up,” you say, and cough out a laugh yourself.

“I’m serious! You look like my granny. I’m pretty sure she has that nightgown.” He leans in a little to inspect. “And possibly the glasses too.”

You frown at him, but without any real venom — although a little startled by his closeness. “Cruel of you to tease me while I’m on my deathbed.”

“Speaking of which,” he says, coming into the house after removing his shoes. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“Well, as much as I’m already regretting letting you come over, I couldn’t just leave you outside, could I?” you huff.

“I guess not,” he replies. “Where’s Sara?”

Your eyes get wide. “Oh my goodness. I haven’t even seen her today.” Guilt washes over you, followed by a pang of grief. What would Jeri say about you forgetting about her child?

Mingyu’s jaw drops, and he quickly runs to Sara’s room. He comes down seconds later with a sleepy-looking Sara in his arms. “She was awake, just laying there,” he says. “I think she knows you’re not feeling well.”

“Or she knows I suck at this,” you say quietly. “Either way, I’m glad she’s okay.”

Mingyu rolls his eyes. “You don’t suck at this. You’re sick. Now go to bed before I kick your butt.”

You purse your lips, but obey, trudging tiredly up the stairs while he watches you carefully. “Who works for who?” you mutter under your breath.

“What was that?” he calls up to you, his tone trying for stern but landing at amused.

“Nothing,” you say in a scratchy sing-song voice that makes him chuckle. You pad your way up to your bedroom, shutting the door and tucking yourself in bed. Downstairs, you can hear the muffled sounds of Mingyu making food, presumably for you. You listen with interest -- you can’t make out the words, but you can tell Mingyu is speaking as he cooks. The sudden realization that Mingyu probably talks to Sara all day while you’re gone fills you with fondness; it strikes you as something Jisung would have done. 

Settling into your mountain of pillows, you try to relax your mind. It’s hard, though -- hard because for some reason your mind keeps wandering down the stairs and latching onto the obscenely beautiful man who is making you breakfast right now. No man, not even the ones you dated or slept with, has ever made you breakfast, and Kim Mingyu is managing to do it twice in one week. Are men only good to you if you’re paying them? you wonder to yourself.

Just then, the doorbell rings yet again. Curiously, you wrap yourself in a blanket and head back down the stairs to see who it is, and are shocked to find Mingyu at the door with Cory.

Cory is taking in the sight of Mingyu (in a Christmas apron he probably found in your pantry, still holding a spatula that has a few flecks of what looks like waffle or pancake batter). He looks between the two of you as you come down the hall. “Hey,” you say. “Mingyu, I see you’ve met my editor-in-chief, Cory.”

Mingyu’s eyes light with recognition. “Oh! I’ve heard so much about you!” he says, his eager puppy-like energy making Cory blink in confusion. 

“Cory,” you explain, “this is Mingyu. He’s my...nanny.” You hesitate before stating Mingyu’s official job title, because “nanny” doesn’t seem serious enough for everything Mingyu does for you and Sara. 

“Oh,” Cory says, seeming to recover at least partially. You bite your lip, holding back a giggle, as Cory sizes Mingyu up yet again. “I’m sorry, uh, I thought…when you said nanny, I thought you meant…”

“A woman?” you say, raising an eyebrow. You cough, leaning against the wall for support, and Mingyu reaches out an arm to steady you.

“Well, I probably should go finish the pancakes,” he tells you after you finish coughing. “Nice to meet you, Cory!”

Cory’s eyes follow Mingyu down the hallway into the kitchen. “Your nanny?” he says in disbelief.

“Yeah,” you say, somewhat uncomfortable. “He came recommended by a friend who used to work with him.”

“Where? A bodybuilding competition?”

You really have to pinch your lips together tightly to avoid laughing. “So…why are you here?” you ask him after the urge subsides. 

“Oh,” Cory says, shaking himself. “I brought you some cough drops.” He hands you a bag of cherry-flavored cough drops lamely, his usual coolness tempered by the ego hit of meeting Mingyu, and looks at the floor. 

You take them from him. “Thanks, Cory. Don’t be late -- they need you there.”

“We need you there,” he corrects you. “Get better soon.”

And with that, he’s out the door.

You put the bag of cough drops on the kitchen counter and slump onto the couch in the living room. When you make eye contact with Mingyu as he turns around to put a pancake on a plate, you giggle. 

“What?” he asks, a little defensive and a little amused. 

“I think you just intimidated the shit out of my editor-in-chief,” you tell him.

His eyes get wide. “I didn’t mean to!” he protests. 

“I know you didn’t,” you say. Your laughs turn into coughs, which makes Mingyu look even more worried. He moves the now-empty pan off the hot stove and brings you a glass of water, which you accept gratefully. 

“Well, it’s cool your employees bring you stuff when you’re sick,” he reasons, taking a seat on the couch beside you as you drink the water. “You must be a good boss.”

You scoff. “My employees don’t bring me stuff when I’m sick,” you say. “Cory brings me stuff when I’m sick.” You can’t keep the annoyed tone out of your voice, and Mingyu notices.

“You...don’t like him?”

You sigh. “I like him just fine,” you say. But as Mingyu continues to stare at you, confused, you laugh again. “I’m sorry!” you say as his look grows exasperated. “You’re just funny. Um, well. I’ve known Cory since uni, and --”

“He likes you,” Mingyu realizes. His face has fallen from his bemused expression to a stony one.

You nod, grimacing in tandem with him. “He told me the night that Sara went into the hospital.”

Mingyu looks at his hands. “Got it,” he says. “And you don’t feel the same way about him?”

“I don’t think so,” you say, playing awkwardly with the hem of your shirt. “He’s a great guy, but I don’t think he’s quite my type.”

“Well, he doesn’t even know you don’t like cherry-flavored cough drops,” Mingyu says, like it’s the world’s biggest red flag.

“How do you know that?” you ask him, bewildered at this revelation.

He shrugs. “Simple observation. In the pantry where you keep the cough medicine, there’s also cough drops. You have a bag of every single flavor but cherry.”

“Huh,” you say. “I guess you weren’t a spy for nothing.”

He allows a small grin at that. “Or maybe I’m just paying attention,” he says quietly.

It feels stuffy and hot in the living room. “Well,” you say in an offhand tone, “I didn’t realize that not knowing my cough drop preferences was a deal-breaker. But I guess I haven’t really dated in two years. Like, since school.”

“Really?” he asks incredulously. 

“I dated around,” you clarify. “But even while I was dating, I wasn’t really thinking about dating. I was starting a business, I was trying to take care of Jeri, I was focusing on school…and then I got so busy with how well the magazine was doing. It never took priority.” You look around the room — at the baby toys in their basket and Sara’s blankets all over the couch — and sigh. “And now that I’m effectively a single mother, I think that ship has sailed.”

He scowls at this last admission. “There’s somebody for everyone,” Mingyu insists. “And you have a lot going for you, boss. So don’t give up on yourself.” He stands up and grabs Sara’s baby food off the counter, sitting down in the seat next to her high chair and spooning mashed up peas and carrots and sweet potatoes into her mouth. You don’t know what’s gotten into you today, but you find yourself fixated on his hands. They’re big and manly, with a dark purple scar over one of the knuckles the only hint at his past life. But it’s more than that. There’s something about the way they dwarf the tiny plastic baby spoon so it looks like a toy and how gentle and careful they are with Sara’s messy eating, brushing the mush from the corners of her mouth. You find yourself wondering how such a hand might feel through the fabric of the shirt at your waist, or moving up the curve of your spine, or wound in the hair at the back of your head while you sigh out his name …

What the hell? you think to yourself, surprised at this abrupt nosedive into insanity. Suddenly bashful, you swallow hard. “What about you?” you ask him, before you can stop yourself. And as he looks at you, a little shocked, you immediately backtrack. “You really don’t have to answer that,” you say, blushing fiery red and combusting into another fit of violent coughs. 

“That’s okay,” he says, watching you with the same worried eyes from the table. “I don’t mind. When I was a fed, I didn’t have the time to date. After I got out I had one serious girlfriend, we nearly got engaged, but then I think we both realized it wasn’t what we wanted.”

“No heartbreaks?” you ask slyly.

He grins. “Well, I wouldn’t say that,” he says. “Maybe just not romantic ones.”

You bite your lip. If there was ever a perfect lead-in for you to ask the question that’s been at the back of your mind since the hospital, it was that. You start, gently. “You never have to answer any of my questions if you don’t want to,” you tell him. “And I don’t ever want you to feel like you can’t refuse to answer, so please let me know if I cross any major boundaries. But I noticed something. About you.”

He looks at you expectantly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you continue. “The doctor in the hospital seemed to know you.”

He smiles softly. “Any theories?” he asks you.

“Mainly that you or someone very close to you had a sick kid,” you say in a single breath, trying not to make him upset. 

He’s nodding thoughtfully. “You’re pretty observant,” he says. “Do you want to open that door?” His tone is still even, but you sense something behind it -- a soberness that is rare for his cheerful personality.

“Only if you feel okay about opening it,” you tell him. Honestly, it wouldn’t change anything if he decided to share or not to share, but you get the feeling that he has carried a heavy burden, unseen, for a good long while. And maybe you hope that you’ll be able to ease whatever you can of that burden. “It’s totally up to you.”

“Okay. Give me a second.”

He puts a lid on the half-finished container of baby food Sara is now stubbornly dodging spoonfuls of. Grabbing a washcloth, he gently wipes off her face as she writhes away from him, then brushes it over her hands and torso as well. Finally, he lifts Sara out of her high chair and into his arms, coming once again to sit by you on the couch while Sara rests against his chest.

He takes a deep breath. “My last official mission,” he begins, “was a security detail for an important diplomat’s wife and son as we evacuated them from the country due to some threats against him and his family. I got really close to the kid. He was six, and he was smart as a whip. Loved cars and toys and dinosaurs, but he also had seen a lot in his short life. Anyway, it took us a long time to get them here, and during that time, the poor guy started getting sick.”

You are unconsciously gripping your blanket around yourself as he tells the story, his soft low voice prodding at your heart in uncomfortable ways, but you are unable to tear your eyes away from his face. He keeps speaking, all while Sara, still exhausted from her own illness, falls asleep in his arms, probably soothed into it by the cadence of Mingyu’s voice. “He had been born prematurely, and his lungs weren’t quite right. But then he got the flu or something, and because of his lungs, it was a lot more serious for him. We fought to get him here in time to get help, and the doctors did an amazing job, but in the end, the bureaucracy of it all made it so he passed away. Doctor Song was his doctor, and she was fabulous, which is why I knew her.”

“Is that why you left the service?” you ask him, and your voice comes out a hoarse whisper.

He nods. “I had seen a lot, but watching that kid die was the worst thing I’d ever seen. Because it was totally preventable if we’d been able to make it here in time.” His voice is so calm, but you can gauge a small amount of bitterness there, softened by the years since. He stands up. “I’m gonna put Sara in her crib. Stay there,” he says.

He’s back in a flash, sitting down a bit closer to you this time. “Anyway. That experience was kind of the nail in the coffin for two things: one was that I knew I didn’t want to be an agent anymore, and the other one was that I wanted to work with kids.”

“That’s quite a career change,” you point out. “Why kids?”

He can’t help but break into a wide smile. “I love kids. Things are so simple to them. And after my last job, I really needed that.”

“Is it hard to leave them when the job is over?” you ask him, thinking of Sara.

He shrugs. “Sometimes it is. Sometimes it’s not so bad. The older kids are usually a bit easier because you can explain to them why you’re leaving. They know it’s not really your choice or that they did something wrong. With the little ones, it can be brutal.”

You shift uncomfortably, this vein of the conversation making you inexplicably anxious. “Well, I was absolutely serious about you having a job until Sara moves out. So…please don’t leave us.” You try to feel embarrassed by how pathetic this sounds, but all you can do is meet Mingyu’s eyes and try to convey how desperately you both need him. “And if you’re ever thinking about quitting, just let me know,” you continue, trying to lighten the mood. “I can be very persuasive if I need to be.”

He cackles. “You sound like a mafia boss. Are you threatening me with violence or trying to bribe me?”

“Whichever is more effective,” you joke. “But seriously, this was a very unhappy home just a couple weeks ago. You’ve made a massive difference. So if there’s anything I can ever do to improve your work or your life at all, please tell me. It’s the least I can do.”

Mingyu puts a hand on your knee, poking out from between the folds of your blanket. “Thanks,” he says. “But you should know I really don’t foresee myself throwing in the towel here anytime soon.”

You smile. “Good,” you say, instinctively putting a hand over his and squeezing.

And then you burst into coughs — your most violent attack of the day. It is almost instantly made worse by Mingyu, who springs up to bring you your water, collides painfully with the coffee table, and ends up spilling your water, a potted plant, and a book on neoclassical art all over the floor. The ensuing laughter bubbling up in your chest turns into a gale of coughs, and Mingyu sheepishly grabs your cup from off the floor and limps to the sink to wash it off. He brings it back to you full again. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says, sitting down and rubbing at the spot on his shin that hit the table. “I’m a bit clumsy.”

You swallow your water and breathe carefully before responding. “It’s okay,” you say, trying to resist the urge to laugh, knowing it’ll just make you cough again. “Is that why you put all the pancakes on one of Sara’s baby plates?”

He nods furtively, biting his bottom lip. “I actually never use your nice dishes because I know I’ll break at least one, and they’re so pretty.”

The image of Mingyu eating off a plastic Dumbo plate with Sara while you’re at work flashes before your eyes. “How thoughtful,” you say with a grin. “But I don’t care if you break my plates.”

Truly, you thought to yourself as he, smiling widely, brings you the aforementioned pancakes, Mingyu could break whatever he liked of yours as long as he stuck around. 

***

“I’m not leaving,” Mingyu says stubbornly.

“You need to sleep,” you insist in a whisper outside of Sara’s bedroom door. 

“Not as much as you do,” he argues in a hushed tone. “You really should not be getting up with her in the middle of the night when you feel this bad.”

“I’m fine,” you lie, but your raspy voice gives you away — as has the entire day Mingyu has spent with you. 

Shortly after you had finished your pancakes, Sara had woken up. Mingyu had shouted you down from going to get her, instead accompanying you as you went upstairs and then marching you to your room for a nap. “You pay me to look after Sara,” he’d reminded you. “It’s my whole job. So you just rest.”

And you had rested, waking from your nap around 1 in the afternoon by a soft knock at your bedroom door. Mingyu had brought you some ramen on a tray, Sara strapped to his chest in a baby backpack, and his earlier accident ensured his steps were careful and measured. He had laid the try across your lap and bowed. “The queen’s lunch is served,” he’d said, winking at you as he left you to wonder why on earth such a simple thing as a wink could send a chill down your spine.

And then you’d brought the tray back down to the kitchen, and he’d scolded you — “who said you could get out of bed?” — but had relented when you told him you had been so bored upstairs by yourself and you’d wanted to watch a movie on the big-screen TV in the living room. Mingyu had set Sara down onto the fluffy white rug in front of the TV to entertain her for a moment, and you’d watched fondly as he blew raspberries into her chubby belly, drawing out her widest smiles. 

“Ooh, watch this,” he’d said. “She loves it!” He grabbed her thick legs and pulled them up and down in a mimic of a track runner, and Sara actually giggled. 

“Yeah, you’re shaking all the gas out of her,” you’d told him, and he’d laughed.

“She does usually fart a lot after,” he allowed. 

After awhile of searching for the right movie, you’d finally decided to watch Pirates of the Caribbean. Mingyu sat cross-legged on the rug, helping Sara play with her toys, but getting sucked into the movie at periodic intervals. Anytime something scary happened, he would cover Sara’s eyes and look at you in mock-judgment. After the third spooky moment, he exclaimed, “there is a child present!”

You had given him a dry look. “She seems really traumatized,” you had deadpanned, pointing to where Sara was whacking a plastic banana on the floor, babbling contentedly, completely ignoring the screen.

And so the day wore on, buffered by small moments of what you could only call growing comfort with each other. It was partially this that had you so adamant to kick him out — having Mingyu so close and so there was making your feelings all jumbled and weird. And having him stay overnight — waking up in the same house as he did — would most definitely not help anything.

So you try your best. “I’ll pay you to go home,” you beg. 

“And leave you by yourself?” He scoffs. “My mama didn’t raise me that way.”

“I manage just fine most nights,” you protest indignantly.

“Most nights you don’t have the plague,” he counters. “I’ve been around all day. I know how bad it is. You won’t even know I’m here. I’ll even sleep in the nursery again.”

“Mingyu, you’ll get sick —“ you start to say, and then pause. “What did you say?”

“You won’t even know I’m here?” he repeats.

“No, after that. You slept in the nursery?”

He shrugs. “Well, yeah, the guest bedroom doesn’t have a baby monitor, and plus I was worried about her, and that rug in there is basically a mattress anyway,” he says. “But seriously, she’s teething. You’ll probably be up all night, and that won’t be good for your illness.”

The look in his eyes as he says it — almost begging you to let him stay — would be too much under a normal circumstance, but learning that this man slept on the floor to keep Sara company while she was so sick pushes you over the edge. “Fine,” you whisper. “But at least take the couch.”

He grins. “Good to see the lady can compromise.”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t push your luck,” you tell him. 

After bidding him goodnight, you close your bedroom door behind you and hold your hand over your heart, which is thumping wildly. This feeling is completely foreign to you — the closest approximation you can come up with is the embarrassing crush you used to have on Steve Irwin, which Jeri never stopped teasing you for. But even that was just enough to keep you interested in his work. It hadn’t reduced you to a full blushing mess as you slid down your bedroom door, a funny feeling in your stomach. You finally understand why people talk about “butterflies” as your insides flutter, trying not to imagine Mingyu stretched out on your couch, his eyelids closed, his pretty lashes brushing the top of his cheekbones  —

“Stop it.” You actually have to say it out loud because it’s ridiculous how nothing has even happened, but you’re blushing. It’s a good thing you’re so ill and exhausted, because otherwise you know you’d be tossing and turning all night. As it is, you pass out only minutes after your too-hot shower.

Your mind is not kind to you in your illness and exhaustion and confusion, though. In dreams you drift around the halls of the hospital, heart monitors beeping suspiciously slowly, producing an uneasy soundtrack for you to glide between rooms to. Your eyes can’t focus on anything properly, so you simply pass through room after room with blurry patients strapped to beds, bandaged or moaning or pale and silent, going faster and faster until you turn a corner and everything changes abruptly. 

Now you’re on an abandoned highway in the dark, and just ahead you can see the wreckage of a small teal vehicle.

You recognize the car, which is blistering in flames, its mangled exterior seeming to bubble grotesquely in the flickering firelight. You scan the interior, paralyzed with fear at what you’ll find there, but it is empty.

A voice is calling your name, a voice you know -- Jeri’s voice. You try to find your own voice to answer her, but when you open your mouth, all you can do is scream. And still, she calls your name, over and over and over again until you suddenly feel yourself being shaken awake by two large hands on your shoulders.

The first thing you register is the stinging in your throat as you wake up, signaling you had probably screamed in real life, not just in the dream. The next is the panicked brown eyes staring into yours, the perfect face they belong to a mask of worry and fear. “Are you with me?” Mingyu says. “Are you awake?”

The last thing you notice is how heavily you’re breathing. You sit up, coughing, while Mingyu watches you in paralyzed concern. “I’m so sorry,” you say raggedly when you can finally speak. “I’m so sorry for waking you up.”

Everything still feels surreal — like you’ve detached from the world you’re used to, like you’re watching things happen from outside your body. What brings you back down to earth is when Mingyu pulls you into his chest and nearly crushes you in his grasp.

He’s warm. Warm like a fire in the winter of your terror, warm like the sunlight after a chilly swim, warm like coming home after a long time of being away. You breathe him in, and everything is suddenly the clean scent of his shampoo and a hint of sweat and just the faintest dash of cologne. And somehow the spinning of the room stops, your heart slows down, the terror eases. You lean into him and close your eyes, letting yourself hold his massive body to you, feeling his broad fingers brush gently down your back and up again, hoping that neither of you will let go. 

“I thought something bad was happening to you,” he whispers into your temple. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“It was a dream,” you say softly. “It was a really bad dream.”

He pulls back to look at you, and a large part of you misses the warmth and the weight of him. This same part of you is rapidly soothed when he pushes some of your hair from your face to see your expression better, searching your face with those same anxious eyes. “Are you okay now?”

You are -- you really are -- but somehow you have the presence of mind not to say that. Instead you nod. “I’m awake,” you say with a soft nod. 

Mingyu sighs in relief. “Give me two seconds.”

He leaves the room, and you deflate into your pillows, exhausted and aching for the feeling of Mingyu’s arms around you again in a way you are not equipped to fight off. When he returns, you see he’s brought Sara with him, blinking sleepily. He slowly hands her to you and then sits facing you on your mattress.

You settle into the weight of Sara on your chest, which soothes you almost as much as Mingyu’s arms had. “What did you dream about?” Mingyu asks you, trying not to sound as worried as you know he must be. It makes you smile a little.

“I dreamed about the hospital and the accident,” you say simply.

“Your sister’s accident?” he asks. “Did you see it? When it happened, I mean?”

You shake your head, swallowing hard against the lump in your throat. “No, it was something my brain entirely made up,” you say. “But it felt real.”

He pauses. You sense some trepidation in him, some debate over whether or not to say what he’s mulling over in his brain. Finally he decides. “What happened to them? I only know it was a vehicle accident.”

You give him a humorless smile. “Do you want to open that door?” you ask him, echoing his words from earlier.

“Only if you do,” he says, putting a hand on your knee.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. It is the first time you will ever tell another human being the story. “It was raining,” you say. “My sister and her husband had gone to one of his sales team’s events -- it was a swanky party in the canyon. They were stopped at a stop sign when they got rear-ended so hard they slammed into the opposite railing. Jisung died right there, but my sister was thrown from the car. She lived long enough for someone to find them, long enough to crawl back to the road and get picked up by an ambulance, but not long enough to make it into surgery. She died on the same floor Sara was in two days ago, but the west wing instead of the east.”

Mingyu’s brow is furrowed, his eyes overly bright. “And the other driver?” he says roughly. “What happened to them?”

“They still haven’t found him,” you say. “They used paint chips from the back of my sister’s car to identify the vehicle, which wasn’t registered to anyone living. The police are apparently still looking for him.”

Mingyu looks like he’s about to hug you again, but stops himself because of Sara. He settles for smoothing a hand over Sara’s head and looking at you with red-rimmed eyes. “I’m so sorry,” he says. “That’s...unfair. And awful. And so sad.”

You nod in agreement. “It is.” You sigh, and with your breath you release a bit of tension you didn’t know you were holding in your jaw. “I just hope she knew how much I love her.” You think back to the last conversation you’d had — full of love and laughter and the promise to see each other soon. Your eyes begin to water, and you sniff.

Mingyu slides across your bed to sit beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into him. He holds you and Sara in his arms while you silently cry -- not the shaking sobs of despair from the hospital or the agonized scream from your nightmares, but a release of all the pent-up feelings you hadn’t had time to allow yourself to feel. You spill over with sadness and anger and pain, but most of all with longing for your sister. You want to hear her voice again, make her laugh again, make her angry again as long as you could just have her there. 

And all of this feeling pouring out of you leaves you feeling drained when it’s over. You are empty, but not the same kind of emptiness you felt in the months before you’d met Mingyu. It was more like the emptiness of a backpack after you take everything out, an emptiness that was no longer hopeless to fill. 

After what is probably more than an hour, you whisper, “Mingyu?”

His sleepy “hm?” from above you floods your heart with warmth.

“I’m afraid I should be paying you double. I think you’re taking care of both of us,” you say, still in a whisper. 

“No need,” he says softly, his arms tightening around you for a fraction of a second. “You heard my whole tragic backstory this morning. It was only fair.”

You smile against his chest, and Sara stirs, beginning to fuss. Mingyu sits up but doesn’t let go, looking down at Sara. “She’ll be up crying in a second,” he says. “Let me take her.”

He scoops her into his arms, rubbing tiredly at his eyes with one hand. “Get some rest,” he says, maneuvering himself off of the bed, stopping only briefly to brush one final tear off your face. 

“Sleep well,” he says softly as he closes your bedroom door behind him. 

You relax into the pillows, reaching over to grab the one Mingyu had been leaning against. It still smelled like him. The scent is enough for your overwhelmed brain — you fall asleep in seconds.

***

As he shuts the door behind you to allow you to go back to sleep, hoping that this time your mind stays free of traumatic dreams, Mingyu pauses.

He is in trouble.

He’d known it from that very first day. Because how could someone be so drop-dead gorgeous in their rattiest sweatpants, with their hair a mess, looking like they might burst into tears at any moment? 

And now, three weeks in, it was worse than ever — the light was coming back into your eyes, and that change was stirring feelings in him he’d never felt before. And as he’d heard more of your story, he became more and more enthralled. He was proud of how hard you worked, and he adored your sense of humor, and he admired your authenticity and honesty, but what had drawn him irresistibly to you was the way that you loved: passionately, almost recklessly, with everything in you. From what Mingyu could tell, that love had leached into every single thing you did — it was the reason your business was so successful, the reason Sara felt so safe with you, and the reason your grief was so heavy. Since realizing this, Mingyu hadn’t even stood half a chance.

As he bounced up and down with Sara in his arms, trying to soothe her fussing, he thought back to the moment when he knew he was a goner: when you’d knighted him in the kitchen and called him Sir Mingyu. The way he’d wanted to take your face in his hands and kiss you until you forgot about everything but him was almost criminal. And tonight...seeing your sleepy eyes, and how you’d melted into his embrace...he’d had to grab Sara as a buffer between the two of you, or he might just have risked it all, illness be damned. 

“Ah, Sara,” he whispered, remembering how you’d smiled dazedly at him as he left the room. “What should I do?”

He had tried to keep it professional with you. Tried to leave almost instantly when you arrived home without being rude. Tried to go out on weekends, so he didn’t have to think about you. But the truth was, he always did anyway. And coupled with the fact that Sara, too, had stolen his heart, and he knew he couldn’t love her more even if he were her own father — there was simply nothing for it. He’d just have to come to terms with the fact that he’d never felt more at home than when he was with the two of you.

It’s four in the morning, and Mingyu sighs as he pulls out his cell phone. “Why am I not surprised you’re awake?” he teases when Jungkook answers his call. 

“You know me,” Jungkook says, and Mingyu can hear the filthy smile on his friend’s face. “I never sleep.”

Mingyu shakes his head exasperatedly. “Got plans today?” he asks. “I’m working right now, but I think I need to go out later.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” For all his teasing, Jungkook is a good friend, and he can tell something’s up just by Mingyu’s tone of voice.

“I have someone I need you to help me forget.”

***

You wake up the next morning around 11, feeling better than you’ve felt in days, maybe weeks. You’re still coughing, but your energy is higher and you’re lighter than you’re used to when you first wake up. 

You head downstairs, where Mingyu is nodding off at the table, Sara sucking happily at her pacifier. You sit in the seat next to Mingyu. “Long night?”

“You have no idea,” he groans. 

“I’m feeling a lot better,” you say. “You should go home and rest.” You have to resist an urge to lay a hand on his arm. 

He blinks blearily at you. “You want me to go?”

You chuckle at his tone -- he sounds devastated. “You need to rest. In fact, I’m going to insist that I drive you home. I don’t trust you to drive safely right now.”

Mingyu smiles sleepily, the sight making it impossible for you not to smile yourself. “‘Kay,” he says.

“Alright, big guy, up you get,” you say, unstrapping Sara and putting her into her baby carrier. “Where do you live?”

He gives you an address, which you plug into your phone. Mingyu forbids you from carrying Sara’s car seat and strapping it in the car, doing it himself at a slower pace than normal due to his tiredness. You watch, amused, as he fumbles with the slots the carrier slides into, his eyes half open. Your heart nearly bursts as he finally gets her buckled and places a clumsy kiss on her cheek. 

He sleeps for most of the drive, slumped against the door of the car. When you arrive in his driveway, you have to shake his shoulder gently to get him to wake up. So you let him out of the car and walk him to the door, feeling somewhat worried he’ll pass out on the way there as he stumbles up the walkway. 

To your surprise, he knocks at the door. “This is your house,” you remind him, giving him a worried look.

He chuckles. “Forgot my keys. I have a housemate.”

Sure enough, in seconds the door swings open to reveal a slim, bespectacled man whose eyes widen at the sight of Mingyu’s tired face. “What happened to him?” he asks you. 

“He was up all night,” you say apologetically. “I tried to get him to leave at the usual time, but he just wouldn’t.”

He scoffs. “Sounds like him. Alright, get in here, you big baby.” The man pulls Mingyu inside by the sleeve of his hoodie, and Mingyu collapses onto the couch just visible from the door. 

You watch him, torn between concern, fondness, and amusement, until you notice the other man eyeing you. “I’m Wonwoo,” he says with a small smile. “You must be Miss Boss.”

“Is that what he calls me?” you ask, embarrassed.

“No, that’s what I’ve been calling you,” he says. “He talks about you a lot.”

You blush. “I’m sorry,” you say, although you’re not really sure why.

“It’s fine,” he says. “This job seems better for him than the last few, so I feel like I actually owe you one.”

“Oh,” is all you can say. “Well, Wonwoo, uh...just make sure he rests, okay? Tell him I can come get him whenever and he can drive his car home.”

“Will do,” Wonwoo says cheerfully. “Have a nice day!”

***

[23:23, the following evening]

“Why did I even come here?” Mingyu groans over the sound of the music.

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “You are absolute shit at forgetting people, you know that?”

Mingyu shakes his head. “Not usually,” he says. “I don’t really know what’s going on.”

“You need to be more drunk,” Eunwoo suggests. 

“And maybe flirt with someone else,” Wonwoo recommends.

Mingyu wrinkles his nose in disgust at the thought. “What are you scared of?” Jungkook asks with a laugh. “You said that you had absolutely no chance.”

“Yet,” Mingyu says. “I have no chance yet.”

“And your plan is to…what?” Eunwoo asks, leaning closer and examining Mingyu’s face. “Wait around until your chance comes?”

Mingyu hesitates. Jungkook shakes his head. “I don’t think you’re a waiter, Kim Mingyu, but you’re allowed to prove me wrong if you want.”

At this, Mingyu rolls his eyes. “You’ve been eyeing the girl in the black dress over there for the past hour,” he remarks casually. “You can talk to me about waiting once you make a move.”

Jungkook watches the woman in the black dress with a tattooed hand on his chin. “Alright, I will.” He shrugs his thin black jacket off, revealing his full tattoo sleeve, and makes his way rhythmically to the dance floor, leaning in to speak to the girl.

“I know that was just a move to get him to go away,” Eunwoo says. “But well done, regardless.” He pats Mingyu on the shoulder. “So tell me, do you want to wait for her?”

Mingyu bristles. “The only thing I know for sure is that I have feelings for her. Beyond that I have no idea what to do about it.”

“Are the feelings you have for her … loving feelings or horny feelings?” Wonwoo asks carefully.

“Both,” Mingyu says through gritted teeth, fighting off the memory of your body in his arms. “How did you know you were in love?” he asks Eunwoo, glancing down at the ring on his finger. “How did you choose Nabi?”

Eunwoo looks thoughtfully into the distance. “She made it easy for me to just…be myself.”

Mingyu immediately remembers how simple it was to open up to you, his heart pounding at the thought. “I keep looking for a disqualifier,” he moans. “Something that would make her…I don’t know. Less…everything I ever wanted.”

Eunwoo grins ruefully. “I can think of one. She’s your boss,” he finishes, stirring his drink with his straw.

“And she told that one guy who liked her that she wasn’t ready to date,” Wonwoo pipes up. “She needs time to figure out what she’s doing before diving into a relationship.”

“So the only thing stopping me is circumstance?” Mingyu asks, frustrated.

Wonwoo and Eunwoo look at each other. “It sure seems that way,” Eunwoo agrees. “And…I don’t know, respect for her.”

“If she wasn’t your boss, and she wasn’t grieving,” Wonwoo points out, “what would you do?”

Mingyu’s cheeks warm with the thought of everything he’d do if you weren’t his boss. If you were ready for him. But he can’t say those things out loud, so he opts for the most generalized version of his answer. “I’d never give up on her,” he says with conviction.

Wonwoo’s eyes behind his spectacles are wise beyond his years. “Circumstances change all the time,” he says simply. “I know you don’t enjoy waiting for things, but maybe the best thing to do is stop fighting the feelings and just let them flow. You’ll either get your shot or you won’t, but if she’s as great as you think, she deserves to be waited for.” Wonwoo sips his water while Eunwoo and Mingyu stare, open-mouthed, at his sudden profundity.

“Damn,” Eunwoo says after awhile. “You should talk more.”

Wonwoo grins. “I would if anyone would listen to me,” he teases.

Mingyu is still letting Wonwoo’s words bounce around in his brain. “What should I do then?” he asks. “Like, right now. When there’s nothing I really can do.”

Wonwoo thinks for a minute. “Well, there’s a difference between what I think you should do and what I would do if it were me. What do you want to hear?”

“Both,” Mingyu and Eunwoo say together. Mingyu shoots Eunwoo an amused look, and he shrugs. “Hey, the last thing he said kind of blew me away.”

“Well,” Wonwoo says, “if it were me, I’d try to hide my feelings until I felt like it was a good time to talk about it.”

“And what do you think I should do?”

He ponders. “Well, you’re garbage at hiding your feelings. When you try, they just end up exploding out of you like diarrhea.”

Eunwoo snorts. “You were doing so well,” he laments.

Unbothered, Wonwoo continues. “So I’d say just be yourself. Don’t cross any lines or confess or anything, but don’t try to hide, either. And wait for her to say something.”

“And if she never does?” Mingyu asks, breathless.

“Die of unrequited love, I guess,” Wonwoo says with a wry grin. “Or move on.”

read part 4 here

[ga-yuu]

Angels, Demons and Jewels of Love ~ THE NINE CURSED MARKS

Sneak Peak of the PROLOGUE ~ Introduction of MC

When someone gives a piece of jewellery to a loved one.

Both the recipient and the giver are blessed and glorified by those around them.

The road ahead for those two was sure to be full of light-----

MC: "Welcome. Please feel free to look around."

This is the jewellery department in the Lunaschente department store.

Jewellery, a symbol of happiness.

I am proud to be in the business of selling it.

(Giving a piece of jewellery to a loved one...)

(I hope one day I will have the opportunity to do so as well...)

Male customer: "Excuse me?"

While polishing a glass case at the counter, a couple approached me.

MC: "Yes. How can I help you?"

Female customer: "I want to buy a necklace, but I can't make up my mind...."

The couple, who are probably in their 20s is already wearing matching rings.

MC: "I'll be happy to recommend you some necklaces that would suit you both."

Female customer: "Wow. Thank you! ......Ah! Miss."

MC: "Yes?"

Female customer: "The brooch on your chest is so beautiful."

Female customer: "Is that a product here?"

MC: "Oh no no.....this one is my personal belonging."

Female customer: "Oh really!?"

After glancing at the brooch I always wear,

I turned to the couple and started showing our products with a smile.

(It was this 'brooch' that made me fall in love with jewellery itself)

This 'brooch' was brought from a jeweller in my grandparents' generation and passed on to my mother.

When I turned 20, my parents gave it to me as a birthday present.

(This 'brooch' has the power to make wishes come true)

(Is what my grandma used to say)

(I don't believe in such magic but....)

Still, I held onto it and always wore it as a lucky charm.

Female customer: "Ah! I love this one! The design and the colour of the gemstones are so beautiful."

Male customer: "If you like it, then let's buy that.....excuse me, Miss?"

(I believe that every piece of jewellery has the power to make people happy)

MC: "Thank you for your purchase."

MC: "I wish you both all the happiness in the world."

The couple who purchased the necklaces looked very happy from behind.

(The path you two are on must be filled with happiness...)

..........

On my way home.

(Today is late than usual)

I was walking down a somewhat unsafe road, which I would never normally choose.

(This road is darker than I thought, but it's a shortcut to get home faster)

While praying for nothing to go wrong, and fast-tracking my way, when I turned around the corner.

Thug: "Coming home from work? I've seen you somewhere. You're the woman from that department store, right?"

A man in dirty clothes, reeks of alcohol.

My path was blocked by the man with an unpleasant aura and I can't help but look away.

MC: "Please move..."

I unconsciously held my bag in my arms as if to protect myself and the man grinned.

Thug: "You have that nice brooch, right? How much is it?"

MC: "It's a gift from my parents....it's not for sale..."

Thug: "Really? Can I see it?"

MC: "Hey! Let go!"

As I was trying to shake off his tight grip.

Suddenly the thug in front of me was blown away by some force.

??? (Stephen): "........Tch, how unsightly."

(....Wha? W-What was that?)

A tall man emerges from the darkness and looked like he simply punched the guy.

MC: "T-Thank you very much...."

But my saviour takes one look at me and sighs.

??? (Stephen): ".....*sighs* He who has no desire to live in dark places..."

??? (Stephen): "Must not sneak into one."

His eyes seemed to say that I asked to be attacked.

He shooes me away and disappeared into the darkness, while dragging the thug with him.

(....At least, my brooch is safe)

Just in case, I took off my brooch and kept it my bag.

??? (Gabriel): ".....Hey you!"

I hear another voice and looked up to another strange man appearing before me.

??? (Gabriel): "I'm looking for a man. Have you seen anyone around here?"

??? (Gabriel): "Maybe a dirty drunkard, who doesn't seem to have anything to with noble-looking man like me."

MC: "Oh. I just saw another man taking him away. Just now, over there."

??? (Gabriel): "Hmmm...I see...."

When I pointed at the direction into the darkness, where the two of them disappeared, the 3rd man went into the darkness without giving me a second glance.

??? (Gabriel): "This country is still in such a dark place...."

The only words heard were grunts that were not directed at anyone.

(....Is he a police officer or something? He has a strangely scary atmosphere)

Some of the main streets in this country have developed spectacularly such as the department stores where I work.

But one step into the back alleys and one will find remnants of the 'darkness' of a previous era.

I decided to turn around to escape and take the well-lit road back.

I thought I'd made up my mind not to go near that alleyway again------

Sneak Peek of the PROLOGUE ~ The two mafia gang

The members of Sheol stood behind me and the members of Elysium stood in front of me.

Surrounded by the two mafia gang, I was panicking and had no way of escape.

(Is there nothing I can do right now.......?)

How should I protect the brooch in such a desperate situation?

Mikhail: "Hey boss, there's a report."

One of the Elysium members looked impatient and calls out to Mr. Gabriel.

Gabriel: "Hmm, okay..."

After nodding a several times, Mr. Gabriel then looks at me.

His usual mocking smile is slapped on his face.

Gabriel: "The brooch isn't in your room....."

Gabriel: "Which means, you have it with you right now. Am I correct?"

(.....You searched my house!?)

There was no words for how insolent it is.

(What should I do now....!? They'll find out soon.....)

Without paying attention to my shocked expression, Mr. Gabriel continued talking.

Gabriel: "From now on, Elysium will take custody of you."

Gabriel: "Oswal."

Oswal: "Yes. Come here, miss."

Mr. Gabriel gave orders while looking at me.

Then a man named Oswal approached me.

MC: "Don't come near me....!"

Stephen: ".....Is that what you call 'justice'? Searching civilians' houses?"

Gabriel: "It takes a lot of heavy-handedness to do the right thing, sometimes."

With me in between, the mafia bosses glared at each other.

Stephen: "I was on my way to get the jewel...."

Stephen: "But, shall we end this long-running feud now?"

Gabriel: "Haa....sure, why not? We're going to win anyways."

Stephen: "Keep saying that. I'll make you regret your words."

Gabriel: "Sure sure.....keep dreaming."

Mr. Gabriel also looked ready to fight Mr. Stephen's provocation.

Marcus: "Boss, I'm always ready to go!"

Berhard: ".....I let you get away with it earlier, but I'm going to get you this time."

Mikhail: "Where does your confidence come from, Berhard?"

Raphael: "You're so belligerent. I don't really care either way to be honest."

Oswal: "....Stephen had made it harder for us to get close to her."

The story starts progressing in a strange direction.

For them, this probably a normal thing.

(Everyone here is serious.....even if it means committing a murder)

(If that's the case, I will never give my precious brooch to them!)

(I will protect this brooch....!)

I tightly gripped the brooch inside my pocket, strongly wishing for it.

Suddenly, a strong light overflows from inside my pocket.

Stephen: "What the...!?"

Gabriel: "That light....Quick! Somebody take the brooch from her!"

At Gabriel's command, Oswal and the others extended their arms towards me.

Marcus: "That's ours...!"

Marcus and the other members of Sheol also reached out to me.

However, the light grew stronger and stronger, not only enveloping me but also my surroundings.

[cevansbrat0007]

The Green Light: Teaser

Summary: Teaser. Andy is over the moon when you finally get the green light to be intimate again after the birth of your babies. But how do you explain to him that you're not quite comfortable with your post-pregnancy body just yet?

Warnings: Smut, Husband Andy Barber, Daddy Kink, Insecure Reader, Post-Pregnancy Body, Discussions of Intimacy, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Full story coming soon! Prompt courtesy of an anonymous reader. Part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series. Warnings subject to change. All mistakes are my own. Please let me know your thoughts!

___

You wait to check your phone until after your appointment is over and you're safely back in your car.

2 Missed Calls - Andy Bear

3 New Texts - Andy Bear

Andy Bear: Hey, baby girl. How’d the appointment go? Did we get the all clear?

Andy Bear: Can you answer your phone, please? I want to hear your sweet voice when you tell me the good news.

Andy Bear: C'mon! You’ve got me dancing on pins and needles right now. Call me. 

You shake your head and then dial your man. He answers on the second ring. 

“There you are, sweetness! I was starting to get worried there for a moment.” The genuine concern in his voice has you playfully rolling your eyes. 

“Relax, Andy. Sometimes these appointments can take a while. It doesn’t mean anything is wrong, Dr. Wilson is just being thorough.” You check your appearance in the rearview mirror, noting that the bags under your eyes seem to look better than they have in days. “That’s part of the reason he’s been my OBGYN for so long, because he’s good at what he does.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. He’s great.” You know he's not being dismissive on purpose, it’s just that he’s chomping at the bit to hear one key piece of information. “How’s your little body? Did we get the green light?”

Ahh, and there it was. Sometimes Andrew Barber was like a dog with a fucking bone. And only your husband would refer to your body as being “little” when you were still walking around sporting maternity wear.  

“I’ve been cleared for all physical activity. Which means I can finally start working out again and –”

“Fuck, yeah we did!” He cheers into the receiver, loud enough to make you wince. “Alright, baby girl, that settles it. BiBi and KitCat are going to my sister’s for a sleepover and the twins will stay at grandma’s. Meanwhile, I’m gonna leave the office early to pick us up some dinner. How about we celebrate with some surf and turf?”

“Oh my god, Andrew! We are not leaving our two newborns at your mother’s house for the night. That’s too much!”

“What if she already said yes?” You have no doubt that your unrepentant husband is smiling hard enough to crack a tooth right about now. 

“You didn’t.” Your head drops to the steering wheel with a light thunk. 

“Oh, I did.” The sound of an eager chuckle spills across the other line. “Ma and Bill are happy to keep Rory and Junior. She said you left them with enough formula and diapers to get ‘em through and that she, and I quote, would be positively heartbroken if you deprived her of time with her precious new grandchildren.”  

“Andy…I don’t know…” As tempting as the thought of a night of uninterrupted slumber was, you were on the fence about being away from your precious babies for that long. 

RoRo needed to be rocked to sleep, while A.J. needed you to pat his little tush and bounce him just so. And they both needed approximately 1,375 kisses every five minutes, otherwise they got fussy. 

“You must really want a good night’s sleep, huh, Big Man?”

“Baby, when I get my hands on you, I promise that sleeping will be the last thing on both of our minds. Now, I’ve gotta run. But I’ll see you home around 4:00pm.”

“Andy…” 

How did you tell your husband that you weren’t really feeling your post-pregnancy body right now? You’d even taken to changing in the bathroom lately. Thankfully he hadn’t seemed to notice that increasingly bad habit of yours…

At least not yet. But it was only a matter of time.

“Hush, sweetness. You just let Daddy take care of everything, okay? I’ve been dreaming of this day for almost two months now, and I plan to take my time loving all over every inch of your delectable body. And what’s more, you’re going to let me.” You can practically feel your nipples pebbling beneath the fabric of your shirt. 

God, how did he always manage to sound so sexy when he was telling you what to do? Handsome ass buttface!

“I’ve gotta head into this meeting, but in the meantime, get some rest. You’re gonna need it.”

“Yeah, okay, sure.” You respond with a resigned sigh. “I…I guess I’ll see you when you get home then.”

“Damn right. Can’t wait to lose myself between those luscious thighs.” Andy rasps with a slightly roughened edge to his tone. “It’s been way too long since I’ve had a taste…” 

Oh good God…and it had been way too long since you had to deal with beard burn. At this point, you’d almost forgotten about what it felt like.

“Bye, Andy Bear.”

"Goodbye, little love.”

END TEASER

[riveranova]

(A/N): Some IkePri as Roommates Headcanons, because my own roommate is making me want to eat my cactus. :,)

The IkePri Guys as Roommates x GN! Reader - Part 1

Warnings: Nokto's a lil bit Spicy, honestly mostly crack

Characters: Gilbert, Silvio, Keith, Sariel, Rio, Clavis, Notko, Ikemen Prince

Word count: 1.044

Gilbert von Obsidian

honestly, menace

i'm 100% sure that he does not know how to cook

doesn't he like to poison peoples food? yeah.

but like, hes not doing it on purpose - he has this really cool game of thrones cookbook which he uses for almost all his meals

hes having three mental breakdowns and calls his mother two times which results in her just not answering the phone anymore

has no problem with asking you for help tho

when you enter the kitchen you have to look twice at what he made

,,Idk why it's so orange, I didn't even use orange ingredients!''

You get my point

otherwise hes actually very nice to you

hes still the kind of guy who would laugh his ass off if you fell before helping you up

hes keeping a clean room and follows the cleaning plan for your apartment

i imagine him to get cold SO easily - like you'd rather catch this man dead than with an open window in winter

80/100 would roommate again

Silvio Ricci

*sigh*

the complete opposite of Gilbert

hes using those italian roots

dont you fucking dare cook without him because lo' and behold, this man cooks like he worked with Gordon Ramsay his entire life

he insists on wearing his rings tho no matter what hes cooking which results in him cursing like a sailor every five minutes

husband material in the kitchen

the rest,,, not so much

i imagine that he does clean but like BARE minimum

like, the barest - the line is ON THE FLOOR

vacuuming the floor but not under furniture, that bad

he doesnt get why, he never sees it anyways and he has better things to do

i think his rooms smells very good, like eros from versace

problem is, it smells A LOT

so now your entire apartment smells like eros from versace

if you have a sensitive nose, I'm sorry for you

60/100 would roommate again

Keith Howell

okay so lets say Keith is uh,,, less fucked up

he mostly keeps to himself but if he needs something, he asks you

you don't know how he does it but you never hear a peep out of his room - as if he just sleeps 90% of the day

hey, maybe he does - i could almost relate

if you guys get along well, hes actually a really sweet man

his actions speak louder than his words tho

you need something build? ask Keith! you need something carried up (or down) the stairs? ask Keith! there is a fucking huge spider in your room? ...run, because Keith wouldnt touch that thing for the life of him

i imagine that hes as quiet as he is because my man is studying

straight A student but is shit at explaining things so he can't really help you

you both end up crying if he tries to exlpain math to you

80/100 would roommate again

Sariel Noir

it feels like your living with your grandma

in the most amazing way possible

dont get me wrong, i love Sariel but I'm 100% sure that this man would act like an old lady

he loves these really old tablecloths that look like this

puts them everywhere too - on your kitchentable, on the little drawer by the frontdoor and i BET the even has them on his desk

like omg little versions of them for his flowers and like little pots with random shit in them

i bet he makes them himself too

hes way to old to be a student but for the sake of this, lets say hes in his 20s

also a straight A student and, obviously, really great at tutoring

you guys share the same classes and that saved your ass more than once

he takes the tutoring seriously, very seriously

he doesnt whip you when you fail, he rather makes you do chores around the house for longer than you'd have to

90/100 would roommate again

Rio Ortiz

puppy dog boy l

i can't not see him as anything else

you guys knew each other before you moved in together

when you told him that you needed a roomie, he made sure that he would be the one moving in with you

obviously in love with you, doesnt even hide it

makes sure youre never hungry, everything is clean

i'm sure that even if you guys had a cleaning plan, he'd just clean before you have the chance to

simp

also, a yes friend

dyeing your hair? yes. cutting your hair at 2am as a result of a mental breakdown? yes. randomly rearranging your bedroom? yes.

loves to cuddle

spends a lot of time in the living room, waiting for his pray (you) to fall into his trap (the sofa) to be violenty (softly) ripped apart (cuddled)

you have to remind him to relax once in a while, hes not your butler after all

100/100 would roommate again

Clavis Lelouch

*sigh_pt.2*

i mean, at least it doesnt get boring around him

opposite of Keith, hes loud as fuck in his room

watches 'try not to laugh' challenges only to laugh 90% of the time

he loves to prank you (really now)

he once put bleach in your shampoo but ended up using it himself on accident

he played it off as planned, mastertrapper clavis doesnt fail

doesnt cook for himself, he snatches food from you

tried his hand at baking and it actually turned out good

it looked like a disaster

he ruined the taste by putting random shit in it to prank you

,,don't worry, it tastes better than it looks!!'' *hides the tuna can behind his back*

youre actually the one tutoring him

he finds studying boring af so he just doesnt do it

straight B student because the universe is unfair

his room is a mess which follows him wherever he goes

60/100 would (think twice about) roommate again-

Nokto Klein

:I

fuckboy (in the most insulting way possible)

i cant keep defending this man

isnt home, like ever

only if he brings people home

no matter the gender, he brings them home

results in you having a lot of akward run-ins

is also really loud in his room for.. reasons

definetly tried to fuck you once and even if you say no, the flirty-teasy remarks never stop

he'd never disrespect you in any way tho

if you look past his fuckboy-self, hes actually a gentleman

if hes home, that is

helps you with homework (if hes home)

cooks you food if you dont have time (if hes home)

you dont know where he is, you guess that hes partying

hes with his family - mostly Licht

due to,,, problems,, he and Licht hat to stick together

hes still visiting bars after

40/100 would (really question myself if we) roommate again

[starlightiing]

Today is 12 weeks - 3 months.

3 Months since my grandma passed away. I thought it was a bit odd I was feeling so inexplicably weepy earlier...now I understand.

I miss her every day, and think about her constantly. I wear one of her necklaces (never take it off) and it brings me comfort to fiddle with the charm. My engagement ring was her great grandmother's, passed down and passed down. It brings me comfort as well.

But the fact that I can't just pick up the phone and call her kills me. The fact that I don't get to hear her silly jokes or her warm encouragement anymore kills me. Not being able to jump in the car and drive 1.5 hours just to hang out for the day doing nothing but puzzles and crosswords...

God, the way I would give anything to be able to do that again. I miss my best friend so much. I just want her back.

All I can hope is that she's found some peace and she's not in pain anymore.

[mommasunshines]

Let me tell you all about my grandma.

My grandma was the kindest woman I ever got to meet, and if I had to compare any woman to Hestia, it would have to be her I think. My grandma had hair as red as a fox and loved squirrels and baby seals, she loved music and dancing and cooking and knitting and crocheting and she was the best.

My grandma was warmth, she was the idea of safety and home. When I visited her house she always had some chocolate or kinder surprise eggs or chips in that old cabinet on the very right, and she had this huge wooden monstrosity of a cupboard that's now in my room, filled with beautiful glasses and pictures. When I wanted something to drink, we'd heat up milk and dissolve some sugar in it, cause I like it, and when we made potatoes she peeled them and I got to throw them in the pot of cold water so we could wash off the starch.

She liked to joke all the time that I got my love for dancing and music from her, because she used to hold me in her arms, singing and dancing in front of the mirror when I was still very small. She wasn't wrong I think. I think that's where I got it from.

My grandma loved when I played the piano, because she thought it was so wonderful to hear, even when I was a child and could barely play, she wanted to hear it every time she came to our place.

To call her a spitfire would be less than she was. She still biked to our place as long as she could, not caring that it was over three kilometres and a bridge away. She also refused to wear a helmet over her beautiful curls for as long as she rode her bicycle. She had a tongue sharper than the knifes in her kitchen drawer or the retractable measuring tape that she owned, on which I cut my finger. I reopened the cut on a toilet paper roll the next day, and I was a little scared of metal measuring tapes since that day.

And even when she had to go to the nursing home, she always brought crackers for me when we got her for a visit. Cause she knew I love savoury foods more than sweet. And when we got together, we liked to make jokes about many things. Many many things.

And when she died this morning... I could only smile for a few minutes, because that couldn't be true. And when my dad called mom to tell her at work, it finally sank in. And I relearned to cry like a waterfall. And I got the scarf she made me, in my favourite colours, and hugged it, knowing it was one of many things she gave me during the almost 18 years I got to know this wonderful woman.

I'll be 18 in two weeks, and I will celebrate without her. But I will dance, knowing it was her that made me love it so much. I will play "Underdog" at piano lessons tomorrow, knowing it was the last thing she heard me play on the piano when I played for her last. I will try to wear the scarf she made me, or one she gave me at least. I will sit at her old desk, using her old typewriter to write the things I wanna say at her funeral. I will ask my mom for her apple pancake recipe later today. I kind of wanna eat them again now.

It hink I'll get a cup of milk with sugar now. Maybe I will look at her old pictures too.

I wonder if the next time I see a squirrel, it will be one she sent my way.

And even if I am pagan now, the next time I lose something, I will grab the old bell we'll get from her room in the next days and ring it, asking for help from Saint Antonius, the patron saint of the "schussiligen".

If only he could bring her back to me, I lost her too, didn't I?

[silantryoo]

ENCHANTED [ WRITTEN ] — in my dreams

y/n's first recital.

WARNINGS ; absent parents, implied paparazzi (1.8k)

y/n loved her grandparents.

she dreamt of them often. from the fine china on their walls, the real gold against the porcelain, to the smile lines they'd get when they talked to her, delighted as she performed for them. her childhood home smelt like home cooked meals, and the absence of mom.

her awards littered the staircase wall, ascending up to her room, locked with all the memories

they always told her how eerily similar she was to her mother, how she was meant to perform, to be on stage. each note she belted, each verse she'd utter, they'd be the first in the stands to cheer. y/n could hear them from the darkness, from the other side of the curtain.

and in her dreams, her mother would be there too.

no one would ask why her parents were so old, and she wouldn't have to explain that they weren't her parents. she'd be free of hearing 'i'm so sorry' or 'i didn't know'. y/n could finally have peace of mind, not waiting near the entrance of the auditorium just in hopes that her mother would show up, to prove to them (and herself) that her mom did exist.

her mother show up, walking up to her and kissing her forehead in the middle of the crowd where everyone could see them, neither of them wearing masks, and no camera pointed at the idol.

and after each recital, each play, her mother could finally be proud of her.

her mom would hold her hand, bring her the roses that she'd leave her child for, and y/n would feel like she wasn't an accident.

(sometimes, y/n wished her mother didn't try to do the best she could. that way, she could blame someone, someone that wasn't herself.)

y/n had always thought - known - that her mom was the most beautiful and most talented person in the world.

when she was younger, when her mother still had the time to be around, y/n was enthralled with everything that she did. the warmth of her embrace, the soft humming of the young idol lulling her to sleep. the way her mom seemed to smile at her like she cared enough to stay, that her work wasn't precedent to her daughter.

and to y/n, her mom was her world. she wanted to make her mom proud, to keep her smile - her focus - on her. she wanted her mom to brag about her to her coworkers, to show them pictures of her, to tell them that she was her 'mini-me'.

but her mother liked to keep secrets, and y/n was her biggest.

y/n was four-years-old the first time her mother had made an empty promise.

she had asked her grandma to iron her outfit, a gold dress embezzled with fake diamonds, the skirt extra puffed up to look as fancy as possible. her grandpa helped her buff her dance shoes, and although the fumes made her dizzy, it was worth it to see her reflection staring back at her.

her mom was coming tomorrow, and y/n needed to perform just like her, as perfectly as her mother on screen.

it was hard on the young girl most days. all of her interactions - although, one could barely call them interactions - were her sitting in front of a tv screen, playing reruns of her mom's performances. four months of listening to her mom's voice through the radio, of sneaking behind her grandparents' backs to watch recordings of her mother's interviews.

and finally, finally, tomorrow y/n could show her mom just how great she had gotten, how similar they were.

her bedside alarm rang, a high pitched ringing filling her tiny room.

y/n rushed out of her room as if her feet were blazing, the soles burning every step she took. her mom was finally off work, her last day of recordings and promotions finally finished.

"woah, wait a second."

she squealed as her grandfather picked her up, refusing to let her go despite y/n's thrashing and squirming.

"mommy's done!" her voice was urgent, her body thrumming with excitement. "i need to talk to her now!"

her eyes were locked onto the phone, and from a couple feet away, she could feel it mocking her. the sleek black plastic gleamed against the light, and y/n felt her desperation multiply as the seconds went by.

"that's past your bedtime, princess." her grandfather scolded her softly just as her grandmother walked into the living room. "your mommy's gonna be very mad at us if we let you."

"she doesn't have to know." y/n reasoned, still squirming. the kwon's are persistent, after all. "and you're her mommy and daddy, so she can't get mad at you."

her grandparents looked at each other, silently noting how similar y/n was to their own daughter. if not for her looks, she was terrifyingly identical to her mother.

"that's not how that works, y/n." her grandmother pinched her cheek. "good try."

y/n looked at the older kwon, her grandmother's short cut hair and her warm kind eyes both stern and understanding.

she knew not to try to push any further, especially this late into the night. y/n had asked so much from them today, and she didn't wanna tire them out.

her friends at pre-school always talked about how tired their grandparents were, how soft-spoken and lenient they had become. she had even seen some of them up close, their hair grey, the smile lines visible on their eyes.

y/n sometimes wondered why her grandparents were different, why they looked so young and had so much energy.

"can mommy pick me up tomorrow after she comes back then?" y/n practically bounced in her seat, the thought of finally seeing her mother making her shake. "i wanna show her my dress before we go."

y/n stared at her grandparents, the only response echoing throughout the room being the hum of the ac. she watched as their eyes met, her grandmother shaking her head.

it was rare to see her grandma so upset. in fact, the only time y/n remembered her like that was when her uncle broke his hand before his recital.

"princess..."

she felt the soft touch of her grandmother's kiss on the side of her head, right where her mom used to place her lips while they watched tv.

y/n could almost feel like her mom was beside her...

almost.

"she's staying there for a bit."

her mother tried everything she could to be there. she knew it back then, her mom seemingly exhausted time after time, eyebags hanging from the twenty-two-year-old's eyes. y/n didn't want to be selfish. she knew her mom needed time to herself, to focus on work, to rest.

but all she wanted was her mom.

"oh." y/n's mom had always worried that her daughter was too naive, too much like her. "but she's still coming for my dance tomorrow, right? it's at night time, so mommy can."

her grandmother stared into her eyes.

that look, the one that her grandma rarely used, was back. it was different, however. it was angrier, filled with hurt. it was laced with every emotion that y/n should've felt right then - the disappointment, the betrayal.

y/n could never hate her mom no matter how hard she tried to.

"call her."

"youngja-"

"call. her."

her grandfather grabbed the phone, and y/n watched as he dialed her mom's phone number. she muttered out each number, reciting it like she had months ago when her mother said she'd be away for a while. it was tattooed in the forefront of her mind, sitting idly, ready for the day that y/n decided to use it.

it was only for emergencies, her mother said.

"here you go, princess."

her grandfather handed her the phone, y/n pressing it against her ear. it rung and rung, like a clock ticking away, counting down the moments she could finally hug her mom again.

"mom? why are you calling late? is everything okay with y/n?"

y/n smiled. "hi, mommy!"

"baby, hey." she closed her eyes, listening to the soothing sound of her mom's voice. "it's late. why are you still awake?"

she glanced at the clock. 11pm. she was supposed to be asleep two hours ago.

"um, i was gonna go sleep now." y/n wasn't exactly lying. she was, after she'd call her mom, obviously.

"good. you need to sleep lots to grow."

"i know." y/n fiddled with the phone in her hand, her mind drifting to the dress in her room, and the shoes in her bag. "can you come early tomorrow and pick me up from school?"

the line went quiet, and for the first time, y/n felt her mom hesitate to choose her. it was the first time that ugly feeling appeared in her gut, but the young girl didn't know what it was. all she felt was the heaviness of her breath, and suddenly, her lungs felt smaller than before.

"baby..."

the four-year-old felt like she was drowning on air.

"please?" her voice was tiny, and if she wasn't so distressed, y/n would've seen the look on her grandparents' faces. "i practiced my dance and everything! plus, you could finally tell them that you're my real mommy, not grandma."

the buzzing through the line, the sign that the connection was still there, echoed into y/n's ear.

it felt harder to breathe, harder to believe that everything would work out like it always did.

"baby..." it was a tone that y/n heard for the first time that day, but one she'd learn to get used to as the years passed. "i can't go tomorrow."

her gold dress hung high against her door, her hard work fluttering in the soft breeze of the ac, forgotten just like her. her shoes, snuggly placed in her bag, polished with her sweat and tears, provided no sense of pride anymore.

y/n just wanted her mom.

"oh." the young kwon didn't recognize her own voice, her mind buzzing. "are you okay?"

"i'm okay. just super busy."

she wished her mother wasn't 'super busy' all the time, that she could be just her mom just this once.

"i'm sorry, princess."

she was sorry too, sometimes. she was sorry that she was the reason her grandma was mad at her mom a lot. she felt horrible how her uncles looked at her in pity, and how her grandparents were just fill-ins for the person who should've been there.

"it's okay." y/n felt tears stream down her cheeks, the corners of her eyes stinging. "i love you."

"i love you too." her mother always kept those words sincere in tone, but not in action. "sleep well, princess."

y/n wasn't gonna sleep tonight, not even a single blink.

"bye bye."

masterlist | next

taglist (CLOSED)!

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[writingsandmishaps]

she

9:00 in the morning. Monday. September 8th.

“Daddy, why are you taking us to school? I thought you had work? Where’s mommy?”

My knuckles turn white as I grip the steering wheel even harder, trying to concentrate on driving and not think about my wife. I know the kids are concerned, but they don’t need to know this. They don’t need to be involved in any of this. I don’t want to think about her.

“Mommy’s at Grandmas for a little bit, baby. Everything’s fine. She’ll come home soon.”

It’s gut-churning how easy it is to lie to my kids. I stop the car at the curb of the elementary school. My boy and girl hop out as I bid them farewell and wish them a good day. I pull away and head to work reluctantly. It’s futile because all of my thoughts are about her. It makes me sick. I can barely eat. I can’t sleep. My kids need me though. They are what’s important.

10:38 in the morning. Thursday. July 9th.

“Mr. Miller, Director Baker is on the phone asking for you. Again. Do you want me to forward it to you or take a message?”

I can feel Alexis’ worried eyes on me as I cradle my head in my hands after a shitty client call. I groan in frustration and look up at her.

“Please take a message. I really don’t have the fucking mental capacity to be screamed at for losing another client. I’ll take you out for coffee later for dealing with it.” I smile weakly at her and give her a small wink. She smirks and nods, closing the glass door softly behind her.

I watch her. Her effortless elegance as she picks up the phone and speaks to Director Baker, easily lying to him about an imaginary client or emergency or whatever she decided this time. I can just barely hear him yelling at her. She has a small smile on her face as she writes down his “message” of profanities on a sticky note. She glances up at me from above her glasses, licking her lips as she resumes speaking with him. It’s almost seductive. I can’t pull myself to tear my eyes off of her though. My wedding ring suddenly feels heavy.

She turns away from me to hang up her phone and type something on her computer. The phone rings again. I can see red creeping up her neck. Blushing.

6:27 at night. Thursday. July 9th.

The window of my car is rolled all the way down. I’m silently begging my face to stop burning. Cursing the wind and the max A/C for not cooling me off in time. I pull into the driveway, roll up the window and turn the car off. I sit. My body feels like it's shaking. Should I tell Laura? No. It won’t happen again. I love Laura. I love her. I love my family. I love her.

It will never happen again.

2:40 in the afternoon. Tuesday. July 28th.

Laura sits on the edge of my desk, using her hands to prop her body up. She knows what she’s doing. Wearing that white silk blouse I got her for Christmas a few years back. The jeans she has on hug every curve. She’s staring blankly out the glass door of my office where Alexis sits. I turn back to my work, typing out an email. The clack of the keys fills the room.

“Where did you find Alexis at?” Laura looks at me, with a curious look in her eyes.

“She was here when they hired me. She was the last guy's assistant too.” I answer easily, turning back to my email. She hums in response. I feel her hand run through my hair and then down to rub my cheek with the back of her hand. She hums again, dropping it an octave. Suggestive.

“You do know I have glass doors, right honey?” I smirk, not taking my eyes off the spreadsheet on the screen. She laughs. It’s angelic.

“Maybe she’d like to watch?” She looks over her shoulder, eyeing Alexis. The same way she eyes me at home. In our bed. I swallow as I turn my head ever so slightly to look past my monitor and through the glass. Alexis is just sitting there. Fiddling with a pen while talking to Heather, an intern. She tucks some of her hair behind her ear. My wife hums again.

12:14 in the morning. Wednesday. July 29th.

I can hear the soft breathing of Laura next to me. Sleeping peacefully. I stare at the ceiling. She said it was just a bruise. That she must have hit the counter with her hip or something. No idea how she got it. No, it doesn’t look like a hickey, why on earth would I say that? She laughs. The only person who gives her hickeys is me. That doesn’t look like teeth marks, oh my God. I don’t know, Steven. Maybe I did it and don’t remember.

I know I would remember.

She smelled different when she came back to the table at dinner. She said it was a new perfume. I must not have smelled it at the office. She got it from her mom. Anyway, what should we order for dessert?

I look over at her in bed. The sweat that used to be on her skin has dried. Her hand felt kind of sweaty when she held mine at the table. When she was asking about dessert. Maybe it was just from washing her hands. No. It was sweat. I know it was.

I know it was.

11:59 in the morning. Friday. July 31st.

Trying to do the monthly reports is hell. I’m just staring at the spreadsheets and the papers on my desk. My fingers won’t move on the keyboard. I can’t stop thinking about Tuesday.

Alexis’ laugh startles me and I look up. Laura’s standing there, holding a Tupperware container. Smiling. She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, slightly pulls at her bottom lip with her teeth. What the fuck?

Alexis is leaning forward in her chair, eyes wide as she speaks excitedly about something. Probably a show they both watch. I don’t know, I didn’t even know they really spoke. Laura leans forward now, leaning on the desk, whispering something and then giggling. Alexis laughs loud, proclaims for Laura to stop, and leans back in her chair. Just staring, wide-eyed at her. There’s something else there. It’s all very lighthearted. Flirtatious?

No.

Laura tells Alexis to give me the Tupperware container. My lunch. I forgot it at home. She leaves it on the desk, not bothering to look in my direction. She giggles, blows Alexis a kiss, and wiggles her fingers as a goodbye. I watch her disappear around the corner.

1:32 in the afternoon. Friday. July 31st.

“Hey, Steven, did you need me to print any of those reports from last week out, or make copies from the last intake meeting? Ya know, for the monthly reports?”

I whip my head up to look at Alexis. She’s right next to my chair, sorting through some papers in her hands. I blink at her, trying to process what she just said to me.

“Uh, no. No, I think I’m good. Do you think you could go get me a coffee from Starbucks or something? I’m gonna be here late I think. Shit, I gotta…”

I let my sentence trail off and pick up my phone to shoot Laura a text. I smell something. Perfume.

“Is that a new perfume Alexis?” She’s rifling through some files on my desk, trying to keep them organized for me.

“Huh? Oh! No, it’s the one I’ve been wearing for years. I have to order it online since it comes straight from Paris! It’s pretty expensive, but god I absolutely love it.” She giggles, “I have extra bottles! I can give you a bottle to give to your wife for Christmas this year? Or- oh! When’s her birthday?” She’s excited. Like she was earlier. With Laura.

“Uh- no. No, she has a perfume she swears by. Says it makes her smell like peaches or something. It’s nice. Thank you though.”

She leaves, saying she’s going to go get my coffee and run an errand real quick. Something about her girlfriend. I sit in my chair, watching her pick up her bag. She tugs at the bottom of her shirt, pulling it down to show off more cleavage. I suck air in through my nose. My mouth feels dry. She looks at her watch as she scurries around the corner out of my view.

Oh my God. My mind starts racing. Images that I don’t want to think of flash through my mind. Of her. And my wife. Various places. Various positions. Sneaking around. In the office? In our bed? Fuck.

No. It cant be. It’s gotta be a coincidence. Those weren’t teeth marks. Maybe her mom can afford that perfume from Paris.

This isn’t happening.

8:53 at night. Sunday. August 23rd.

The kids are at Laura’s mom’s house. She wanted a weekend to herself since I was going fishing with the guys. I’m getting home earlier than I thought I would. I stopped and got flowers and wine. The kids have some kind of holiday off school tomorrow, so we’ll pick them up tomorrow afternoon. Which means we can stay up as late as we want tonight. We haven’t gotten to do anything in a while. I know she’s been getting restless. Our daughter has been having nightmares though and wanting to sleep with us. 55 in a 40 isn’t that bad, right? I just want to get to my wife.

I see another car in the driveway of our house when I turn on our street. The light in the bedroom is on. My chest feels so fucking tight. I park by the curb. I feel like I’m on autopilot as I get out of the car. I shut the door to the house as softly as I can. God, how many fucking stairs do we have? Why does it seem like so many?

Noises. Another voice. Laura moaning. My brain short circuits. The door to the bedroom is slightly ajar. My feet somehow get me to the doorway. The wine and the flowers end up on the side table outside the room, next to a framed picture of the family. Our family. Me, my wife, and our kids. My hand pushes the door open further, not of my own accord. Alexis’s wide brown eyes are filled with shock as they meet mine.

[munstysmind]

https://at.tumblr.com/tr33-g1rl/weird-asks-that-say-a-lot/71ulmnww9fer

G'day Munsty!!

1, 4, 5, 7, 9, 12, 13, 16, 19, 22, 25, 27, 31, 34, 37, 43, 44, 48, 54, 59, 60, 63, 65, 68, 71, 77, 72, 84, 88, 93, 96

😈🤣

You're a menace!!

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?

Water bottles. I have a collection. It's starting to become a problem 🤣

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

"quiet" "a pleasure to teach" but also "has great potential but needs to apply herself more" "needs to focus in class" "excels at x but not yz" AKA all the classic struggles of an undiagnosed child with ADHD.

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

Tumblers count as plastic cups right?? because every drink I consume is put in one.

7. earbuds or headphones?

Headphones. Earbuds irritate my tragus and daith piercings and i have little ears so they're always falling out.

9. favourite smell in the summer?

The bush. Specifically the bush at our cabin in Echuca.

12. name of your favourite playlist?

"Car Songs" on my Apple Music.

13. lanyard or key ring?

Key Ring. I'd get caught left and right if I had a lanyard.

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

Cross legged. It's the only position that doesn't cause pressure on my hip so I'm always in it.

19. sleeping position?

On my back like a dead person 🤣

22. role model?

My grandma. I've looked up to her since i was about three. If I ever need advice, she's my first call.

25. first song you remember hearing?

The Little Mermaid soundtrack. That movie was on in our house on a daily basis.

27. favourite activity to do in cold weather?

Curl up on the couch in my Oodie and read

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

Honestly, no idea. I don't go out very much. Probably jeans and cool printed tee

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

NOT HAPPY JAN - Yellow Pages Ad - YouTube

Reading Writing Hotline.mpg - YouTube

Carlton Draught | "Big Ad" - YouTube

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

Duffel bag. I have become skilled at fitting a lot of clothes into one

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?

Hoodie. Storm Hoodie to be exact

44. favourite scent for soap?

The Body Shop Satsuma and Lush Snow Fairy

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

I’d probably be a Mango because of how much I eat Mangos 🤣

54. what did you learn from your first job?

That Child Care is way more than just playing with kids all day. Some aspects of the job can be extremely hard.

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

“For Fucks Sake”

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

Ummmm… I don’t think I’ve ever seen any type of Anime. My brother would be so disappointed in me 🫣

63. five songs that would play in your club?

65. any permanent scars?

One on my left shin from where a top a chunk of skin out when I was shaving, a few in my knees from being a clumsy child and two puncture scars on my left hand from that time I rolled into my cat in my sleep when she was a kitten and squashed her

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

Sarsaparilla and Aniseed. That’s shits nasty AF 🤢

71. least favourite pattern?

Those bright trippy ones that make your eyes go funny. They give me migraines.

72. worst subject?

Funnily enough, English. I am a terrible speller and nothing ever made sense to me.

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?

Pothos. It’s the one plant I can completely neglect and will continue to thrive if it’s in the sun.

84. podcasts or talk radio?

Podcasts. I can skip them if the topic is boring. Can’t do that with live radio.

88. your greatest wish?

Happiness. It’s basic yes, but all I really want in life is to be happy.

93. nicknames?

Munsty, obviously, and Chicken Lips or Chick. Thanks Mum 😐

96. desktop background?

[jimblejamblewritings]

de fragee prutia | part 1.

Summary:  Welcome to the world of Descendants but with a slight twist. (Y/N) is the daughter of Prince Naveen and Princess Tiana. Being girlfriend to Ben and a royal herself, (Y/N) encourages Ben to bring over some kids from the Isle. Will she be putting everything she loves to the test with this idea? Will she and Ben survive or will she meet someone else along the way?

Pairing: Ben x reader

Word Count: 6.0k

Warnings: none

(Series Masterlist)

It was the last day of the school year at Auradon Prep. Everyone was scrambling around, signing yearbooks, making summer plans, and saying goodbye to each other. You were clearing out your locker when you felt two arms wrap around your middle.

“Combien de temps encore avant que je t'ai pour moi aujourd'hui ?” Ben asked. (How much longer till I get you to myself today)

His head rested on your shoulder. You smiled to yourself. Hearing Ben speak French made you happy, it was reserved for his parents and you only.

“As soon as I send my stuff back home.”

“And how long will that be?”

You held up a finger before pulling out your phone and texting Mama Odie. As soon as the text sent, all the boxes in your locker disappeared. You smiled. Gotta love magic. It might have been frowned upon in Auradon overall, but Maldonia still found it okay to practice.

“Ashidanza,” Ben breathed out. (wow/oh my)

The word made you look up from your phone in surprise. Where had Ben learned the word? You thought you were careful not to speak Maldonian or French unless you were at home, it must have slipped out here and there. You didn’t think Ben was paying that much attention.

“What brought that on?” you asked still a bit in shock.

“You’re wearing it. I wasn’t sure if you actually would.”

Ben was referring to his ring that rested on your pointer finger. It was gold and shaped like a beast’s head. Ben grabbed your hand and kissed the ring.

“Of course I would wear it. Now, what did you have planned for us?”

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you staying the whole summer in Maldonia?” Ben asked as he laid out the picnic spread at the pavilion by the Enchanted Lake.

“We’re stopping to see my grandma in New Orleans first, then we’re all headed up to Maldonia.”

“That didn’t answer my question. The whole summer? Are you staying?”

“Ben, are you asking me to come back early?”

“I would just like to see you outside of Auradon Prep,” Ben said as he fed you a strawberry. “I would like to take my girlfriend on a vacation or have a date that’s not confined to making sure we get back before curfew.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to my parents about coming home early.”

You were confident your parents would say yes. They weren’t too strict about much, just simple rules about being a generally decent person were all you had to follow.

“Want to take a dip?” Ben gestured to the lake.

You looked at a (Y/H/C) curl that landed in your face. If you got your hair wet it would be ruined and you didn’t feel like restyling.

“I’ll just dip my feet in. You can go ahead though, I’ll watch.”

You scooted to the edge of the pavilion and stuck both legs in. Ben jumped in, careful not to splash you. You watched and laughed as he jumped around in the lake. You grew a bit concerned when Ben disappeared for longer than you thought was normal; but, before you could call out his name he popped up in front of you, placing a smoothen heart shaped stone on your lap.

“Hey, Benny-boo?” You chuckled as he made a face at the nickname you knew he hated.

“Do you have to call me that?”

“As your girlfriend, I do believe it is my job to call you obnoxious nicknames. But, no, I have a real question.”

“Alright.”

“Every time we sit in history, we learn about our parents’ pasts and their parents but I can’t help but think of the villains. They may have done bad but their kids didn’t Ben. And it’s not fair we leave them all on the Isle to carry out sentences some of them don’t deserve.”

“Okay.”

“I’m saying we should bring some of the Isle kids here.” You were preparing yourself for Ben to flat out refuse.

“Okay.”

You looked at Ben in shock. You didn’t think he would agree, or at least not so quickly. You planned a whole argument in your head, exactly how it would go and what you would say to make him change his mind. It seemed almost too easy.

“Wait for real?”

“For real. I’ve been thinking about it, too, for some time. It’s a good idea.”

“Great. So, you’ll talk to your father about it?”

“We’ll talk to my father about it. When you come back early.”

You laughed as Ben playfully tickled your side. “Okay, okay. I’ll come back early. But I can’t come back if I don’t leave for New Orleans now.”

You pulled out your phone to text Mama Odie.

“Au revoir, Ben.”

He kissed your hand. “Abinaza.” (Goodbye)

You felt your insides being twisted and pulled and soon enough you found yourself in the back kitchen of your mother’s restaurant, Tiana’s Place. Before you could blink twice, a uniform and apron were shoved in your hands.

“About time you done showed up around here! Those carrots aren’t gonna mince themselves now are they?”

Your mom’s way of greeting you was to tease you about spending time with Ben. As soon as you don on the uniform, no time was wasted helping Tiana mince the vegetables and make her famous gumbo. Even though she was reigning princess of Maldonia, your mother loved to work at her restaurant from time to time.

You carried out various meals to tables, helped clean the dishes, and even taste tested some new dishes. Your grandmother and Mama Odie strolled in twenty minutes till closing. You finished cleaning up the rest of the restaurant as your grandmother and Mama Odie sat down with your mom eating some cake.

“Are we ready to go?”

“We sure are, pudding. As soon as your Auntie Lottie gets here.”

Right on cue, your Aunt Charlotte La Bouff came in with what seemed to be a thousand bags. Mama Odie just sucked her teeth and you once again felt the familiar twist of your insides as the five of you were whisked away to Maldonia.

~~~~~~

“How is my little Fragee Prutia?” Naveen asked as he gave you a kiss on the forehead.

You were on your balcony looking out into the distance in the direction of what you assumed to be Auradon. It was your last day in Maldonia. Your parents had agreed right away to you going back early and Belle was more than happy to offer you a room in the castle—separate from Ben’s of course.

“I’m doing good daddy. Excited to go back.”

“Excited to see Ben you mean.”

“You know, I think that limo down there is for me. I better go put my stuff up.”

Naveen laughed as you tried to avoid his comment. He helped you pick up your luggage and take it to the limo. Your mom was waiting by the car.

“Be good. Don’t give too much trouble. Don’t forget to video call us.”

“I won’t, Mama, I won’t.”

“And be the best royal advisor they’ve ever seen. Knock ‘em dead, sweetie,” she whispered as she pulled you in for a hug.

“Always do, Mama. I always do.”

~~

“BEN!”

You screamed at the top of your lungs as you exited the car. Poor Cogsworth nearly dropped your luggage at your high-pitched scream.

“There’s my Fragee Prutia,” Ben laughed as he lifted and spun you around. “You should’ve come earlier or stayed home, I’m talking to them about it today.”

“Today, Ben?! I’m not anywhere near prepared… today?”

“At my fitting in about two hours.”

“Well, I’ll be there with you. As long as you promise to help me unpack.”

Ben looked at the luggage the servants were helping bring in. “Are you staying with us for three years?”

You gave him a wicked side-eye.

“My stuff for Auradon Prep is also in those Ben. Now show me my room.”

Right up the spiral staircase and on the hallway to the left was your room. You knew it was going to be bigger than the dorms at school but you didn’t expect it to be bigger than your room at home, considering aside from your parents you had one of the biggest rooms in the castle.

“This is me, TC, and James’ rooms combined.”

“I picked it out for you,” Ben said setting down your tiny suitcase on your bed. “You have your own balcony, your own bathroom…”

“And my own hallway! I thought I would be closer to you and your parents’ room. Or at least on the same floor.”

“I was going to say and your own secret corridor. Pull out the flower from the vase right there.”

You walked up to the small bookshelf and pulled the plastic flower from the vase like Ben said. The bookshelf shifted to reveal a small sliver of wall big enough for you to squeeze through.

“It may or may not be connected to my room. Just follow the path, don’t take any of the turnoffs, and knock twice when you get to the end. I’ll open the door for you. Oh, and Chip’s the only other person who knows about it.”

Ben’s mouth turned up in a little half smile at the last part. You had to admit Ben was pretty smart for thinking about this. Not like you and him were doing anything, it’s just late night talks and cuddles that ran into ungodly hours of the morning and honestly probably made it seem like you were up to something.

You and Ben were putting up the last of your stuff when Belle walked in. “Fitting time then lunch. (Y/N) it’s so good to see you!”

Belle didn’t hesitate to give you a hug. She grabbed your hand and you grabbed Ben’s as you made your way to his fitting for his coronation suit.

Lumière and Beast were already in Ben’s room when the three of you arrived.

“Hello Lumière, Your Majesty.”

You do your best curtsy— hands placed ever so lightly in front of your stomach, one ankle crossed behind the other, slight bend of the knees with head facing forward and eyes looking at a spot on the floor in the distance. You had your Aunt Charlotte and her endless etiquette classes to thank for that. Beast pulled you into a hug.

“Ah, (Y/N), we’re practically family. No need for formalities with us.”

Ben stepped up on the fitting pedestal as Lumière got started with his measurements. You took a seat on Ben’s bed.

“How’s it possible that you’re going to be crowned king soon? You’re still a baby. Sixteen. Far too young,” Beast started on his famous speech everyone in the room had heard at least four times before.

“I didn’t make a good decision till I was at least forty-two.”

You and Belle shared a look.

“Well, you decided to finally marry me at twenty-eight,” Belle said, smacking Beast with one of the pillows on Ben’s bed.

“Um…Mom, Dad. I’ve decided my first official proclamation.”

You jumped up from your spot on the bed to go stand next to Ben. You looked up at him and smiled, nodding for him to continue.

“We’ve been thinking about it for quite some time and we think, I think, the children from the Isle should be given a chance to live a better life…here…in Auradon.”

Belle and Beast just stood there in silence. It was time for you to step in and help a bit.

“Ben isn’t talking about bringing over their parents. The villains have no place here and we know that. He just means maybe Auradon should try to help these kids. They’re blank slates and there’s still a chance to make them good.”

“We can’t just abandon them,” Ben continued, “We start out with a few at first. If that goes well then we see about bringing over more and more. (Y/N) is taking on the role of chief advisor to the program.”

“Okay, son. (Y/N), who do you have in mind?”

“Well we were thinking of starting with the ones that might need the most help. If they change it’ll show other villain kids there’s a chance. Their parents are Cruella De Vil, The Evil Queen…”

“Jafar,” Ben took over from you. “And…Maleficent.”

“MALEFICENT!” Beast quite literally roared.

You gave Ben a squeeze on his shoulders and then you and Lumière ran out the room as fast as possible. Ben could handle this on his own. He’d have to. When Beast got like that, it was best to leave it to his family to calm him down.

~~~~~~~~~

Just like Ben instructed, you made your way down the hidden corridor not taking any turns. When you reached the end, you could see the back of the bookshelf that was blocking the hole to Ben’s room. You knocked twice. You were about to knock again when you heard Belle’s voice.

“Are you sure you don’t want that branch cut? The tapping on your window doesn’t bother you?”

“I’ve grown to like it, Mom.”

“Okay. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow. And tell (Y/N) we’re sorry for our behavior earlier; we trust you as king-elect and her as a royal advisor.”

“I’m sure she knows, Mom. Goodnight.” You could hear a bit of humor at the end, Ben was letting you know he knew you were there.

“Night.”

It was a few more seconds before the shelf opened. Ben embraced you tightly.

“So that branch makes for a very convenient cover-up.”

“It seemed easier than claiming rats.”

“I brought snacks.”

You held up a plain bag filled with food and drinks. Ben made an attempt to make his sheets nice as you set up the food. You were laying, propped on your elbows, on his bed. The two of you were snacking out of the bowl of tortilla chips.

“It took a while to convince them after you left.”

“But they’re going through with it?”

“Yeah, they’re going through with it… Come here.”

Ben set the chip bowl aside and you scooted closer to him. “You’re still in your day clothes. I should have some sweats that don’t fit anymore.”

“I take it I’m not going back to my room tonight.”

You watched Ben go through his drawers until he found what he was looking for. He hand you the pile and politely turned around for you to change.

“I’m decent.” You let Ben know that he could come back to the bed. You were in his blue sweats and yellow muscle tank. He left you a blue sweatshirt but you felt like you would get too hot in the middle of the night.

You felt your breathing slow as you got sleepy. Ben’s heartbeat became a comforting noise, like a rhythmic lullaby.

“Do you really think we can pull this program off? Do you believe in us?” Ben whispered, sounding defeated.

“Does a villain believe they’re rotten to the core?”

~~~~~~~

The sunlight streamed in through Ben’s windows. Neither of you had closed the curtains last night.

“Morning.” You pecked Ben on the lips.

“Morning.”

You made a face, “Beast breath. You can’t talk to me until you brush.”

Ben laughed. “You’re a little swampy there too, Prutia.”

“Well, I’m going to go change that now and you should too.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

You pecked on the lips him once again and walked out of his room, running into Chip right outside the door. Chip gave you wink, making you flustered.

“Oh no, we didn’t, it’s not.”

“Hey, my lips are sealed.” Chip laughed and walked away.

When you finished brushing your teeth, washing your face, and attempting to fix your curls— you regretted not bringing your headscarf into Ben’s room— you made your way to the dining room. Belle, Ben, and Beast were all ready down and eating. You placed some eggs and bacon on your plate.

“Ooh grey stuff.” You dipped your spoon in one of the teacups that held the mousse and brought it to your lips.

“Did you two sleep well?” Belle asked. Something felt off, like with Chip moments ago.

“Yeah.” You exchanged confused looks with Ben.

“Not up too late?”

“No, why?”

You accidentally dropped the piece of bacon you were eating. It landed on your sweats, on Ben’s sweats… that’s why Belle asked. They assumed, just like Chip.

“Oh no, it was just…I mean, you know, Ben,” You looked at his confused face. “I’m going to leave you to handle this. I’m gonna get changed and I’ll be in the limo, okay.”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N/N), what?”

“Limo, when you finish. You can explain. Okay, okay. Bye!” You yelled on your way out, carrying two teacups of grey stuff with you.

You looked up from your spot in the backseat of the limo to see Ben coming in.

“So I explained… and then they proceeded to give a talk.” Poor Ben looked traumatized.

“This is so good. Here have some.” You handed him the teacup, hoping food would make him forget.

The limo pulled up to the sidewalk on Main Street, right in front of the Hatter’s Hat Shop. You and Ben had planned to walk around downtown and look for gifts for the villain kids. You were also on your own mission to find something for Ben’s birthday.

“Do you think they like these?”

“I don’t think they’ve ever tasted sweets before.”

“Then we should get them every type. I need to go pick up something for Audrey. I’ll see you at Pizza Planet in thirty-ish minutes?”

“I didn’t know you and Audrey were friends.”

“I’m actually still working on it. See you in a bit.”

You kissed Ben on the cheek and headed out the candy shop. For Ben’s birthday, you wanted something special. He gave you his ring about five or six months after y’all started dating; but, he had nothing of yours. You stopped by the jeweler shop, ran by head dwarf Doc.

“Hello, Princess (Y/N).”

“Hello, Doc. I have a request for you.”

You pulled out one of your favorite bracelets. It was a silver band with frogs and lily pads on it. You wanted Doc to make a ring out the band.

“How big?”

You wanted Ben to wear it properly, not on a different finger like you had to with his ring. You stuck out your pointer finger for Doc to measure.

About thirty minutes later, you walked into Pizza Planet with a small drawstring pouch of rings in your pocket. Doc made as many as he could in case you lost one. Ben was sitting at a booth playing on his phone. He looked up as you sat down.

“Hey! Did you get the thing for Audrey?”

“Oh, uh no it’s not ready yet. I’ll probably stop by again right before school starts. What did you order?”

“One personal just cheese, one small meat supreme and one small (your favorite pizza).”

“Are we feeding a small army?”

Ben and you didn’t talk much once the food arrived. You both could have quite the appetites on you. You were glad Ben convinced you to come back a little early, going on dates that didn’t require making sure you weren’t late to class were a lot better.

“They’re announcing the proclamation tomorrow.” Ben said as he scarfed down a slice of pizza.

“Two weeks left to get everything ready after that. We can do this Ben.” You reached across the table to grab his hand. He brought your hand to his mouth and kissed it, he paused before repeating the action.

“I hope you’re right…that we can do this.”

~~

Your eyes darted open the minute your alarm set off. You were back in your dorm at Auradon Prep. You were jittery with excitement, the villain kids were arriving today. You hummed your father’s lullaby “Ma Belle Evangeline” as you fixed your curls so your tiara sat perfectly on them.

You smoothed out your skirt and popped on some Nike Air Force Ones before running out your door, almost forgetting your key in the process. Ben’s room was first stop. You let yourself in with the spare key you had and jumped on his bed.

“Benny-Boo get yourself up! The kids are coming today!!”

Ben laughed and tried to pull you in but you resisted and tried your best to push him out of bed and towards his bathroom. After Ben was done, it was time to go find Audrey. She was on the committee solely for the extra credit she needed, not because she believed in the villain kids and certainly not because of you. You knocked incessantly on Audrey’s door until she finally opened.

“Let’s go go go!”

“Why is she so happy about this?” You heard Audrey whisper to Ben.

“She worked really hard to make it happen. She came up with it and believes in it real hard.”

“So you don’t believe in it?”

Normally you didn’t care about Ben and Audrey’s conversations but you had to listen to this one. Now that they thought you were too far ahead and too excited to listen to them you could hear what they really thought. It never occurred to you that Ben was only doing this because you suggested it, not because he thought it was right.

“No, I do. Maybe not as hard as her but I believe. We got to don’t we? See if we can help break a cycle.”

There was the Ben you loved. The three of you greeted Fairy Godmother who was outside waiting for the limo to arrive. The band started playing as the limo pulled up. Personally, you thought it was a little much. As soon as the music started it unceremoniously ended.

You, Fairy Godmother, Ben, and Audrey looked confused until the band separated. On the ground were Cruella and Jafar’s sons wrestling over some equipment that looked like it was yanked out of the car. The girl with purple hair shoved one of them.

“Just cleaning up,” Jafar’s son said.

Fairy Godmother just laughed awkwardly. “Leave it like you found it. Actually, just leave it.”

You winced as he threw the expensive equipment back in the car, not caring if it broke. These guys were going to take a lot of work. All of a sudden, Jafar’s son looked at Audrey.

“Hello, Foxy. The name’s Jay.” He said flirtatiously as he strolled closer. Audrey chuckled uncomfortably before Fairy Godmother interjected.

“Welcome to Auradon Prep. I’m Fairy Godmother, Headmistress.”

“The Fairy Godmother? As in Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo?” The purple haired girl asked.

“Bibbidi-Bobbidi you know it.”

You hated whenever Fairy Godmother started anything with Bibbidi Bobbidi but you smiled politely and kept your face the same.

“Okay, Headmistress? We can take it from here.”

Ben ushered Fairy Godmother away before greeting the nameless villain kids. Well, mostly nameless, you already knew the long haired boy was Jay.

“Hi guys, This is (Y/N), I’m Ben—”

“Prince Benjamin.” Audrey cut him off.

“You had me at Prince. I’m Evie. My mom’s a queen so that makes me a princess.”

You were amused at her attempt to flirt with Ben and her slightly wobbly curtsey, she’d need to work on that.

“The Evil Queen has no jurisdiction or royal status here. And neither do you.”

“This is Audrey.”

“Princess Audrey. Sleeping Beauty’s daughter.”

You gave Audrey a pointed look and then turned back to the villain kids. “Queen Grimhilde may no longer have jurisdiction in Auradon but once a royal always a royal.”

You took your own tiara off your head, careful to mind the curls, and positioned it perfectly on Evie’s. You could feel Ben and Audrey burning holes in the back of your head. You knew how Audrey felt but you didn’t want to look back in case Ben thought you were insane too. He more than likely didn’t but you wouldn’t take the chance.

“Royal will always run through our blood.” You whisper to Evie and smile.

As you stepped back to join Ben and Audrey, you notice the villain kids exchange looks. It seemed to be a mix of confusion and surprise. It didn’t occur to you until that moment that they’d assumed  everyone would act like Audrey, lashing out because they were afraid. It would take a while but you were determined to make sure they felt at home in Auradon.

“Audrey will show you around and then we will all meet up in a bit.”

“Oh, no, I won’t. You can have Doug do it. I have a salon appointment.”

You didn’t want to make a scene in front of the new kids but it seemed like it couldn’t be avoided.

“Audrey,” you said through gritted teeth. “You promised me that you would help out with the program.”

“No, I promised Fairy Godmother and for the extra credit. Now, if you excuse me, I have an appointment.”

Everyone watched as Audrey walked off.

“Well I suppose I can walk with you guys to the main area but I have to fill out some paperwork. If you can’t find Doug, you’re going to have to figure something out.”

You clapped your hands together. “Heh. Let’s get this tour started.”

You passed Beast’s statue on the way to the front. Ben stopped and clapped twice causing the statue to turn from the king’s human form to his beast form. Carlos jumped five feet in the air and into Jay’s arms.

“It’s okay Carlos. My father wanted his statue to shift to show us anything is possible.”

“Does he shed much?” Mal asked making you snicker.

“Yeah. Mom won’t let him on the couch.” Ben joked.

The group continued to walk. Carlos tried clapping to turn the statue back.

“Don’t bother,” you told him. “Only works for King Adam and the royal family. Trust me, every student has tried. Come on, keep up, don’t get lost.”

Carlos followed you to join the rest of the group.

“So you guys have a lot of magic here, what’s that like?” Mal asked.

“Actually,” Ben had escorted you guys all the way to the main hall of Auradon Prep. “The use of magic is pretty archaic. Still exists, but pretty much retired. Most of us are mere mortals.”

“Most of us.” You and Ben gave each other devilish smiles.

“This is where I leave you guys; but you are in more than capable hands.” Ben kissed your hair. “I’ll bring your paperwork on Monday, I’ll try to fill out as much that I can for you. Don’t worry about rushing the tour.”

“So what did that most of us mean?”

You continued leading them through the halls on the way to the dorms.

“Let’s just say my home kingdom has different principles than Auradon. We don’t practice that shadow stuff, no, but some of us dabble in let’s just say something not so mortal.”

“Ooh, she’s got a little wicked in her.”

“Not wicked… just… mischievous. I get it from my dad’s side.”

“Prince Naveen. Now there’s an Auradon man I can actually get behind.”

You weren’t sure if it was a compliment but you decided to take it.

“So what’s the deal with you and that Audrey chick?” Wow, Mal sure did ask a lot of questions.

“She thinks I stole her boyfriend and kingdom.”

The villain kids all laughed. “So this is over Beastie Boy.”

“It is not over Benjamin.”

“Please explain to us, then, how this is not over Ben.” Jay teased you.

“You have to understand. All the kingdoms elected Ben’s family to rule Auradon and then decided to go back to older methods. King Beast’s full title is High King. No one else can become High King or High Queen except by way of Beast’s family. All the other royals rule their kingdoms more like municipalities. If we were to do something that the High King doesn’t approve we have to accommodate and do what he says. Audrey’s family has always come from high royalty. One of the few families that rival Beast’s on both the father and mother’s side. Audrey was groomed to become the next ruler of Auradon; she’s always been told it’s her birthright. And that birthright meant marrying Ben. I took that from her.”

You tried to ignore the facts for the longest but you knew it was true. If you cared more about Audrey’s feelings maybe you would’ve stopped smiling at Ben every time you passed him in the halls. You wouldn’t have let him carry your stuff to classes as he was showing the new girl around.

You wouldn’t have accepted his offer to let you use his mom’s library when he found out you liked to read or start speaking French with him when you revealed your mom grew up in the time of French Creole in New Orleans. And you definitely wouldn’t have let him push Audrey away when you found out he liked you too. But you didn’t care. You wanted what you wanted. The title and the ruling wasn’t important to you; but Ben was a little too important to let go.

“So, what was that about a mischievous streak?”

“Whatever. Here are your dorms. Students choose whether to have a single or double, one of the few things Fairy Godmother still uses her magic for unlimited housing. But we thought it’d be best for you guys adjustment if you were in doubles with each other. Carlos you’re with Jay. Evie and Mal. Come next semester you can come to me about singles.”

You gave them their keys. “So it’s the weekend, you guys have full schedules with Fairy Godmother and Goodness 101. Regular classes start next week. Cafeteria is closed over the weekend but the Snack Bar stays open. Doug will be by Monday morning when it’s time for breakfast. See you guys later.”

“Doug? Regular or AK?”

“AK?”

“Auradon kid, but the famous parents kind.”

“Oh, AK. Dopey’s son. Not everyone has famous parents here. Don’t worry you’ll meet plenty normal kids here too. Breakfast, Monday, don’t forget! Get some sleep.”

“Here.” Evie held your tiara out.

“Oh no, keep it. Consider it a starter tiara. I’ll take you crown shopping later.”

~~~~~~~

“Oh good, thank you Doug for showing them to the cafeteria. Are you going to sit and eat with us?”

“Band practice.” Doug held up his instrument.

“Well then I won’t waste anymore of your time. Have fun and don’t forget to eat!”

Carlos, Evie, Jay, and Mal sat down with their breakfast. You were eating tangerine slices, careful to mind the juice doesn’t get on the paperwork. You and Ben were feeling pretty swamped with organizing the program. Even though your rules go in Auradon, you still respected the other kingdoms enough to work with them.

“Is that all you’re eating?” Ben asked as he put down his tray.

“Just signing a bunch of papers, writing up changes in the contracts. I haven’t exactly had time to get up and wait in line.”

You felt a fork poking at your lip. You looked down and see a bite of ham and cheese quiche. You were trying your hardest to stop your face from feeling hot. He was really doing this in front of the villain kids?!

“It’s your favorite and you know it. I won’t stop till you eat it.” Ben kept poking your mouth with the fork.

“Fine.”

You reluctantly took the forkful. Ben laughed as your eyes widen. You didn’t hesitate to accept the next two forkfuls Ben fed you. “C’est bien, n’est-ce pas?” (It’s good right?)

“Mmm, très bien! Quels sont les fromages?” (So good. What are the cheeses?)

“Not sure, actually. Don’t overwork yourself please. Okay, bounamadi?” (sweetheart)

“Who keeps teaching you Maldonian?”

“Well, you refuse to show me.”

“You guys are cute. Disgusting but cute.” Carlos spoke from the other side of the table.

“I’m so sorry, we just ignored you.”

You turned attention away from Ben and the paperwork and towards the group in front of you. You wanted to know how they felt about everything, if Auradon was their speed. From what Fairy Godmother said you knew they were doing fairly well in Goodness 101, especially Mal.

“Are you guys okay? After what happened the other night?”

The kids all looked at each other.

“What about the other night?” Jay sounded a little hostile.

“I just meant none of the Auradon kids are giving you trouble, right? No one’s accusing you of trying to take the wand. We heard it was a false alarm but people still like to run their mouths.”

“Oh. No, it’s fine. No one messed with us.” Carlos reassured you.

“Good. That’s good.”

You grabbed the first hands in front of you, which happened to be Jay and Evie. It was a habit of yours, grabbing people’s hands to comfort them.

“How are you so nice? Not just to us but everyone, you’re this walking ball of good. It’s almost annoying.”

You laughed. It’s not that you were super good or just so pure; you just cared. You’ve seen what happens when people aren’t treated with decency and you were determined to a break a cycle that you were convinced spawned villains in the first place. You had your moments but you tried to keep them to yourself. You refused to treat anyone like a villain until it was absolutely and irrevocably proven they couldn’t do good and didn’t want to change.

“What do your Auradon friends think of this? You hanging out with us all the time?” Evie asked.

“She doesn’t really have any friends.”

You elbowed Ben after he said that. It was true but you didn’t want him to say it.

“Just Lonnie and Doug. I guess maybe Jane, when Audrey isn’t with her. My fault really. They kind of kept their distance after I chose (Y/N) over Audrey.”

“Everyone is very cordial to me though, and I have a whole cheer squad I am friendly with. Benny-boo makes it sounds like I get beat up. I have friends. Approximately two. It was three till exactly twenty seconds ago.” You stuck your tongue out at Ben.

“Well, now you have four more.” Evie smiled at you.

“Yeah, now I do.”

“Never thought an AK would join a VK gang.”

“Um, you guys joined my gang.”

“What’s an AK? Or a VK for that matter?” Ben asked.

“Auradon kid. Villain kid.” You and the VKs answered at the same time.

“I’ve got to finish this paperwork so it can be sent to Sultan Aladdin.” You said as you got up from the table.

“I’ll see you guys later. Oh and Ben, the young kids don’t really say buonamandi anymore.” You leaned in close enough to kiss him. “We just say amandi now.”

Ben tried to close the small gap between you two but you quickly pulled back.

“Uh uh. Not in front of the kids.” You teased him.

“Wicked.” Mal said.

“Mischievous,” you retorted as you walked off.

~~~~~~

(Third Person POV)

Carlos, Evie, and Mal were in the girls’ room. Jay came strolling in after talking with the coach.

“You figured out a way to get the wand from Jane?” He asked as he approached.

“Do you think we’d still be here if I had?” Mal said agitated.

They were still focused on the wand. Auradon wasn’t so bad but their parents were counting on them and they had no choice. They could live in Auradon when it was all over.

“We can do this if we stick together.” Jay said trying to calm her down.

“And we won’t go back until we do. Because we’re rotten…” Mal started.

“To the core.” The others answered in unison.

“Oh that reminds me. I heard that Fairy Godmother uses the wand to bless Ben at coronation and the whole school gets to go. I have nothing to wear, of course. You think (Y/N) will want to go shopping for it?”

The group looked at Evie. The blue-haired girl didn’t realize the bombshell she just dropped. Before anyone could say anything, there was a knock on the door.

“Hold that thought,” Mal said as she approached the door. It was Ben at the door.

“Hey. I didn’t see you guys around today. I was just wondering if you had any questions or anything you needed?” He asked the four.

“Not that I know of.”

“Okay, great. I’ll see you guys around then.” He started to leave.

“Oh, wait, Ben!” Mal called, “Evie heard we get to go to your coronation, is that true?”

“Yeah. Whole school’s invited.”

“Is there anyway we can sit up front. Soak up all that goodness from Fairy Godmother.”

Ben let out a slight laugh at that comment. “I wish you guys could. But it’s supposed to be just me, Fairy Godmother, my parents, and (Y/N).”

“(Y/N)?”

“Yeah, she’s the one doing the actual blessing with the wand. Even if she wasn’t, as my girlfriend she has a spot up there.”

“Oh, that’s sweet.”

“Yeah. I’ll see what I can do to get you guys good seats but my hands might be tied on this one.”

“That’s okay. Thanks, Ben.” Mal closed the door in his face. Ben stared at the door in confusion before he walked off.

The VKs looked at Mal.

“Looks like Benny-boo is going to need a new girlfriend.” She said, not too proud.

(Part 2)...

[prettyfilmz]

dating boxer!fezco 🧸 🤎

pairing: boxer!fezco x fem! reader

warnings: nsfw headcannons are included

author’s note: thank you guys so much for over 1k(wtffff i love you guys) notes on “pink matter” i really didn’t expect it to blow up like it did and it really warms my heart that you enjoyed it 🥺💗I have such heavy emotional trauma from euphoria’s season finale it’s not even funny😭please allow me to ease your minds with this idea i’ve created in my head to block out what happened to my brother-in-law.

• ashtray is definitely his coach. he’s always in fezco’s corner with extra mouth guards, water, towels and an emergency first aid kit. although he doesn’t take it too well when the opposing opponent gets overly disrespectful with fezco and is ready to humble them off the arena with a pool table stick to the adam’s apple.

• fezco’s stage name is snowflake. not only is it an ode to grandma kitty, it blindsides people to see him as a delicate fighter but boy does he show them…*coughs* remember nate jacobs *coughs*

• he never talked up a big game in press conferences before a match since he always thought that was a set up for failure. if anything he just wishes good luck to his opponent and keeps it moving.

• as fezco’s girlfriend, you were spoiled to the absolute max. all the money he won from his matches goes directly to ash and you to spend on whatever you would like.

• he always loved how your pretty eyes lit up when he gifts you something that you have been eyeing at the mall with him a day ago.

• you would be sitting front row wearing a big pink fur coat with matching colored gucci sunglasses looking expensive as ever with maddy and rue sitting beside you, helping you cheer fez on as loudly as you can.

• you would also be with him in his private training room swooning over how his biceps flex whenever his fists collide with the sturdy punching bag.

• no trophy, belt or championship ring is as valuable to fez as you are to him. you are his motivation, his heart, his good luck charm. you are his biggest prize that he could have ever won.

• and the sex…whew.

• before every match, you would go into his dressing room. not only to give him some final words of motivation but to also slowly slip the white lacy thong down from your hips and handing it to him with a kiss on his cheek before slipping out the room. such a tease.

• he always kept it in his pocket like a good luck charm for when he’s fighting in the ring.

• whether he wins a match(like 99.9% of the time) or loses, he’s going to take you back into his dressing room and fuck your brains out.

• rough sex…yes

• the panties you gave him would be lodged in your mouth to muffle your loud moans so no one would hear.

• you would be bent over the vanity table, skirt hiked up with fez pounding into your wet cunt as you begged him to never stop the pleasuring pace.

• his favorite thing to tell you when he’s deep in your cunt is that you’re his prize and it always sends you into orgasming.

• “you’re my fuckin’ prize, baby.” “you love being daddy’s prize, babygirl?”

• so much dirty talk and praise. and you eat it all up.

• there would be times where celebratory sex wouldn’t be on the agenda after some really difficult matches.

• watching fezco almost getting beaten into a pulp strikes a lot of fears in you. some nights you lay awake in his sleeping arms worried that one opponent might kill him one day even though ashtray would never let that happen.

• it makes you emotional to see your boyfriend so injured sometimes to the point you have to hide your tears in order for fezco not to feel bad.

• but he knows how you feel. you just have to give him a sad look and a pout that gives him confirmation that you were bothered.

• as you patched up his wounds, he would reassure you that he’s okay and maybe crack a few jokes about you being a “pretty ass nurse” that would either make you glare at him or break into a smile.

• fez would never say this aloud to you because he knows you would immediately shut the idea down but he wouldn’t mind quitting boxing if you’re really worried about him and his wellbeing.

• he loves you too much to cause you any sort of mental stress because too many matches got out of hand.

• and you love him too much to make him give up a profession he’s passionate about.

• in the end, your hearts beat for each other no matter what.

[ihavetheblues96]

What is a strong woman?

It's now 1:13 pm my son is asleep and I'm feeling proud! I cleaned my house pretty well. Not that it's ever disgusting since I do the same tedious tasks every day BUT I did more than I normally do. Anyways I finished but my heart felt heavy and ached as if someone told me I'm bound to lose everything I love. I think it's weird how people say that the heart holds no actual emotion when here I am feeling pain. When I feel heartbreak it does so how sure are they when they say that? as to why I feel this way as I was cleaning I realize no one is ever going to see my struggles. No one will acknowledge the Janitorial staff as they clean the school, workplaces hospitals, etc so why would this be different? I don't need the thanks cause I know what I do. The problem is when I was cleaning I thought of my mom and aunts. I remember them cleaning after coming home from work, or even my stay-at-home aunts who sighed heavily as they cleaned. Always saying why don't we clean up after ourselves or why we just leave dishes here and my heart broke. Now that I'm an adult with kids of my own I understand their complaints. They were tired. I don't remember ever seeing my mom wash clothes and I realized we never had a washer or dryer. remember always having clean clothes and sometimes complaining when my clothes were damp cause she had fallen asleep. she was tired. I remember thinking why was my tia so tired and sad while doing laundry when she never worked? she had more than 5 kids of her own plus us that she would feed and take care of. she was tired. my other tia coming home her face always stoic and sad as looked around. Day and night she was waking up to go to work one way or another. She was tired. I feel disgusting and ungrateful. I hate myself again. My mom who was berated and hurt constantly in some form or another by my 'father' cleaned worked. We were somehow always comfortable and never hungry. I'm sure she wasn't and I'm sure she was hungry. We used to take my father's pants when he passed out drunk and slowly crept into the room to get his wallet and change so we could buy food and things. my mom's worried expressions hoping he didn't wake up. my mom's face when she prayed and cried at church begging god to hear her prayers to help my dad to help him stop drinking, cheating, and hurting her and us. praying for help and support for relief from her burdens. God was her savior the only one who listened and cared. she never gave up. Even when we had no place to go after an argument and we stayed in church. I watched her pray and cry like she was asking for rain but she only made her rainfall. She is my father, mother, a goddess. she's the reason I have good in me for my children. I remember a car ride on the way back home from church. I was scared I didn't want to go home I didn't want to see my father yell and throw things. I didn't want to hear him calling her names and accusing her of ridiculous things. I looked at her as she drove our tiny hot car that was always thirsty for gas with windows that would never go down more than a crack, and asked her "why don't you leave him why do you keep going back?" she was quiet for a moment I saw tears swell in her tired eyes as she smiled for me "I love him god will change him. you kids need your father." I remember thinking 'you are my father I have you and you say god is father to us all so why? if this is love I refuse to have it.' Now I realize what she meant. she loved my father deeply she gave everything she had to him hoping he would look at and appreciate her one day. when she said we needed him she meant we needed him financially because she didn't get paid enough to support her 4 children on her own. even if she had to sneak money and lay with garbage she did what she did for us. My mother and my aunts My grandma who still wears her wedding ring to this day after my grandpa left and started a new family they are what strong women are. their bruised bodies and rough hands that only soften because of age are proof.

Blues

[kallikrein]

WARM AND TENDER

— in which shinichiro takes care of you when you’re sick.

genre. fluff.

contains. gn!reader, cursing, grammatical errors.

word count. 2.0k.

note. my first time writing for shinichiro! i emptied my fluff gun with this one so i hope this makes your heart burst…because mine figuratively did lmao. also, i know this is somebody else’s request but i guess i’m hitting two birds with one stone so…happiest birthday to my wife, @baji-san​! :D

requested.

Walking home alone, you felt the exhaustion of the day seep more into your bones. The pounding inside your head seems like a punishment with every step you take and you feel terribly cold even though the weather’s really warm.

You can’t wait to see your bed, to bury yourself into the comfort of your blanket and to sleep the fatigue away when you hear the familiar sound of a roaring engine. You stopped in your tracks to check if your assumption is true and oh my, how true it was.

“Hey you,” Shinichiro called as he appeared and parked by your side of the road. “I saw your awful-looking bag and thought it was you.”

At times like this, you were quick to tell him that your favorite bag isn’t awful and that he’s the only one who claims that but the weariness only made you grunt as an answer. He immediately took notice and asked if you’re feeling alright but you just shrugged your shoulders off and stepped closer to him, “Yeah, just peachy.”

Humming, he gestured his thumb to the backseat of his bike, “Hop in. I’ll drive you home.”

After wearing the safety helmet that Shinichiro always carries for you, you climbed up his bike and yawned, “I might fall asleep anytime soon so drive slow, ‘kay?”

“As if I would drive recklessly when I’m with you,” he replied. You put your arms around his slim waist and leaned on his back to get comfortable when he spoke up again, “You feel kinda warm, are you sick?”

You nodded your head slowly, “I think so.” You immediately thought back on the day when one of your friends had a nasty cold and that you took care of them even though they told you you might get infected. Yet you insisted on helping them solely because of your selflessness and kind nature. You sighed when you realized, “Yeah, I think I am.”

Shinichiro looked at you to see if you’re sitting properly behind him, realizing that he has to take double safety now with your current state, “Hold tight onto me, okay? I don’t want you falling over.” With that, he revved up his motorbike again and drove to the direction of your house with an easy pace.

“Is anyone home?” He asked once the two of you reached your place. It looks like there’s no one home to take care of you and Shinichiro was worried that you’re going to be alone while being sick.

“Nope, they’re at my grandma’s,” you muttered and Shinichiro was about to speak when you interjected him, “I’ll be fine. I just need to sleep this off. I promise, I’ll be okay tomorrow.”

He didn’t want to go but Akashi and the others were waiting for him. They already made a plan to meet weeks beforehand so he just settled on checking you later after his meeting with them. He was about to lean and kiss you out of habit when you moved away from him with a sheepish smile, “Sick, remember?”

“Right...then, in you go,” he told you. You nodded and gave him a mini handwave while he watched you get inside safely before starting his motorbike again.

Upon entering your room, you immediately stripped off your clothes and washed yourself all the while deciding what to eat for dinner. It was then you realized that you don’t have an appetite so you just opted for water and medicine and after lying down on the bed, you were already fast asleep.

You jolted awake sometime later when you heard some crashing outside your room. Then you heard more rustling like they dropped something, so you reached for your phone, speed dialing Shinichiro’s number out of instinct.

Shinichiro, it’s me! It’s me! Please pick up!

You heard your pre-recorded voice ring outside the door, confusing you until someone knocked on the door and opened it.

“Hey. It’s me. It’s Shinichiro.” A familiar voice spoke across the dark and you slumped down with relief. “I’m sorry I just barged in. No one’s home to answer me so I just used the spare key.”

You welcomed him with a groan because everything seems to be spinning and turning, “It’s you.”

“How are you feeling?” He whispered when he came next to you, his cold hand touching your warm skin to check your temperature, “Did you drink your medicine?”

You hummed at him as an answer, “You...might get sick...too.”

“Don’t worry about it for now, just go back to sleep,” he put a fever-cooling patch on your forehead and you sighed for its comfort. “I’ll be right here so just tell me if you need something, okay?”

When you didn’t answer, the crease on Shinichiro’s forehead finally relaxed. You were resting so that’s a good thing, he’s knowledgeable enough on how to treat a feverish person because he had done this so many times when Mikey and Emma were little kids. Those rascals.

Right now, as he looks at your sleeping form, he can’t help but think of how lucky he was to have you, despite your current circumstance. You took care of your sick friend, fully knowing of its consequences and yet he didn’t hear any complaints from you. You were kind, caring, reliable and selfless – all the things that matter the most to him. Only this time, you aren't feeling well and his chest felt heavy again. He got up to let you rest and took a seat on your desk chair to wait for you, just in case you wake up again.

Hours later, he was busy musing to himself about his earlier meeting with Akashi when he heard you murmuring, “Shin...Shin...” He walked back up to you to check your temperature again and heavens, your fever is now breaking.

“I’m here. Do you need something?” He asked with a low voice, his hand was already peeling off the now-warm fever patch on your forehead.

“Don’t leave me Shin,” you whimpered and he froze. Were you having a nightmare?

“Hey, it’s just a dream. I'm not leaving you. Never,” he replied, unsure if you’re awake enough to understand him but his instincts felt the need to reassure you.

“Pinky promise?” you whispered and your little finger moved out to reach him.

“I promise.”

“Hmm...marry me then.”

And he caught his breath with those simple words.

“Swear...you'll marry me...Shin…”

“I’ll marry you,” he breathed and then you were back to being tranquil. He let out another shaky breath. Of course you were dreaming, he knew that and that it was nothing but a sleep talk. Yet the fast beating of his heart betrayed him because of how easily he agreed to marry you.

He put a new fever patch on your forehead and decided to get some sleep – that is if he can get any sleep at all – praying that you’ll feel better tomorrow.

You opened your eyes as you felt the warmth of the sunlight entering your room, though your head is a bit fuzzy, you already feel better than yesterday. Looking at the time, you hurriedly got up. Shit, I’m late. Standing up was a bit difficult as your legs felt wobbly from sleeping so much when you heard a soft knock on your door.

“Good morning sleepyhead, how are you feeling?” A familiar black-haired man popped his head at the ajar door to smile at you.

“Shinichiro? What...? Did you stay the night?”

He entered your room and leaned his shoulder on the wall, looking composed as ever, “Yeah, and you almost called your boyfriend last night. Tsk. Good thing I was here.”

Bewildered as hell, you don’t remember much about last night. “Boyfriend? What boyfriend? You’re my boyfriend?”

He laughs at you, feeling satisfied by his awful attempt of jesting, “You called my phone while I was about to enter your room. I’m sorry about that by the way. You feeling hungry?”

Your stomach growled at the right time, “Yeah, I didn’t eat at all last night.”

Shinichiro gave you a condescending look and helped you straight up, “Let’s get you something to eat.”

Exiting your room, you saw that he cooked your favorite meal and you drooled at the sight, “Aw, thank you Shin!”

Before you could run to the counter table where breakfast was served, he grabbed hold of your wrist, “Hey.”

“Hmm?” Looking back at him, “Yes?”

“Do you remember anything last night?” He asked, imploring rather, and you are confused as to why he would be because you have no recollection of anything besides you bypassing dinner.

“No…did I do something?”

He smiled but you can see his face discouraged, “No, just mumbling in your sleep.”

“Well, what was I mumbling about?”

He snickered, trying to deviate away from the topic, “About how handsome I am. Damn, you’re that crazy about me. Even though I’m here, you’re still dreaming of me.”

His words made your cheeks feel warm and you let him slide with his bluff just this once, “Like you don’t dream of me Shinichiro, right...” But he simply chuckled at your response.

You started to dig in once seated and you made a sound of appreciation, “Who knew I like being domesticated like this?” and Shinichiro choked on his breakfast. “Wha–? Are you okay?!” You handed him a glass of water to help him from coughing.

“Yeah yeah, just surprised is all,” he croaked.

“Shinichiro,” you started and he knew that tone of voice. It’s the same tone you use whenever you reprimand Mikey from eating too much dorayaki and Emma from overthinking what to wear for the day, “Tell me what happened last night, you’re acting kinda weird.”

He gulped the ball of uncertainty in his throat and fidgeted in his seat, debating if he should open up the usually sensitive topic for couples, “Uhh, you asked me to marry you,” he found himself murmuring.

And then there was silence.

Shit.

Shinichiro knew he should not have brought it up, he knew that you were just dreaming last night but god, he’d be damned if he ignored that question for another moment. He knows that he wants to marry you – you’re the ideal partner. You’re perfect, even! You knew him more than he knew himself, inside and out. He knows you'll always going to make him happy so why? Why is he doubting this?

“I asked you…to marry me?” You asked with a low voice.

He brought his eyes back up to look at you and what he saw made him dizzy with euphoria. You were hiding your face with one hand, eyes as wide as saucers and he knew that your face was on fire behind that feeble cover and that boosted his confidence, knowing you’re as flustered as him, “Yeah, you even made me pinky swear.”

You groaned, “Shinichiro, I was sick oka—?”

“You didn’t mean it?”

“No! I mean, I do! I meant it! It’s just I was sick and my loose mouth is — ugh, why am I even explaining it to you?! Stop laughing at me!”

He held back a laugh, but his eyes were full of mirth, “So you wanna marry me for real?”

“Idiot, I wouldn’t date you if I’m not going to,” you grumbled, lightly stabbing your breakfast with your fork.

He chuckled once again, feeling giddy all of a sudden, “You beat me again.”

“Beat at what again?”

He rounded the counter to your side, leaving his plate behind and stood beside your sitting form, “Asking.”

“Right, I asked your adorable shy ass first,” you grinned. “Sorry if you don’t have the moves, Sano.”

He hummed, slowly leaning on you now. “Too bad,” he murmurs as he closes the distance between your lips. “That’s too bad.”

You smiled into his kiss, overjoyed by what was silently agreed. You pulled back and decided to tease him one more time, “Will you still take care of me even if I’m old, weak and wrinkly?”

He softly smiled at you, “Yeah, I’ll take care of you.”

[bellysoupset]

Can we get one with Jonah suddenly pass out sick at a mall hangout with Vince and Lucas with Lucas as the caretaker?

Thank you for the request! I hope this one lives up to the expectation.

Why were they blasting Christmas songs in October?

Jonah buried his face in his hands, rubbing his temples. What had started as a good day had quickly downgraded to him feeling like death.

He had been in a good mood, so when Vince had texted that morning and asked him to help him pick a suit, he had agreed with just the amount of complaints necessary to solidify his bitchy reputation.

The problem was... Vince was huge. Not only he was tall, but he was large and all the big suits only made him look fat, which was not the look he was after. So a quick shopping trip had turned into nearly three hours of incessant music blasting, Lucas rambling non stop and Vince bitching about being poked and measured.

They had taken a lunch break around two PM, one that Jonah was now regretting as the McDonald fries and big mac were settling heavy on his gut, sending up little greasy burps that offered no relief.

He rubbed at the side of his stomach, belched in his mouth and felt a pressure start to build in his head, like there was an elastic band around his temples.

"I look... So ridiculous," Vince whined and Lucas chuckled.

"So no different from every other day?"

"Eat my ass, Luke."

"Can't, I got a girlfriend," Lucas retorted sharply and Jonah rolled his eyes at their interaction, just wanting for Vince to be done already.

"If you stopped moving around, you'd make Soraya's work much easier," he said, looking at the poor seamstress who was struggling to pin the fabric in the perfect way without fully fucking with the suit or poking Vince.

"I'm not moving around," Vince grumbled, then crossed his arms and promptly a pin flew out, causing Soraya, who was hemming his pants, to let out a heavy sigh of her own.

Jonah only raised an eyebrow, as if saying point in case. He closed his eyes as vertigo got thrown into the mix of general malaise. His food sloshed into his stomach and he felt cold sweat run down his spine.

"Why do you even need a suit anyway? Isn't it your grandma's birhday? Just go wearing a button up," Lucas said to his left. Jonah fanned himself. Even with the AC blasting, he felt like the room was stuffy.

"It's my bisnonna's birthday," Vince corrected and his accent, that normally wasn't there, came back with full force, "she's turning 102, it's going to be a huge thing."

Jonah grabbed at the couch's cushion and shut his eyes, trying to ride out the wave of nausea and dizziness that hit him. He vaguely heard as the other two continued to talk... His mouth filled with sweet saliva, tasting a lot like pickles and he swallowed in the urge to gag. God, he had to get out of the store before he vomited in their fluffy rug.

Dizzily, Jonah opened his eyes and pushed himself up, only for the change of positions to send all of his blood down. He heard a sharp ringing on his ears and winced, blinking like crazy to try and situate himself.

Vince was saying something to him, because he could see his mouth closing around "Jon?", but he couldn't hear him over the thumping in his ears. Jonah groaned, took one step towards the exit - and then the small black spots that had already been dancing in his vision clung to one another and everything went dark.

He came back to with his head resting on Lucas' lap, of all fucking places. The man was hoovering over him anxiously, green eyes filled with concern and once Jonah blinked, he raised his head and shouted, "he's awake!"

Vince came into view soon after, his face a perfect mask of worry, but that he hid away once he saw Jonah blinking dizzily to ground himself.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Johnny boy," he said in a teasing manner, but Jonah heard all of the worry in his voice, "how are you feeling?"

"Uhm-" Jon grabbed at Lucas' shoulder and pushed himself sitting up, only for Lucas to plant a hand on his back and say sweetly, "easy... Take it easy."

Jonah groaned, moving away from the touch and cradling his head, "... I'm sorry, I'm fine now."

Vince let out a scoff and he could practically hear Lucas eye rolling. Vin sat down in front of him, "what's wrong? You're not feverish, we checked."

"Are you dizzy?" Lucas asked, then, without any consent or invitation, planted a hand on his neck, feeling his throat around, "Jon?"

"Stop touching me," Jonah slapped his hand away, "I think my blood pressure just dropped, I'm fine."

"Totally fine, I too pass out at the mall weekly," Vince mocked, then looked past his shoulder, "you can take him home?"

"I don't need anyone to take me home, I'm not a toddler."

"Then stop behaving like one," Lucas flicked at his ear, "you're clearly dizzy and I'm not letting you drive anywhere. So it's me or you can ride on Vince's bike, your pick."

He'd pick Vince over Lucas any day, but Jonah wasn't stupid. There was no way he could hold on, "fine..."

"Here," Vince pushed a glass of water into his hand, "bottoms up."

"You're just gonna make me vomit if I drink it all," Jonah scoffed, but took a little sip to rid his mouth of the Mcds aftertaste, "fine, let's go."

Without waiting, he stood up again, only for his knees to nearly crumble and for Vince to catch him easily, "Whoa!" he said with a cheeky smile, hand open on Jonah's chest, "falling all over me? I'm flattered."

"Vince," Jonah scoffed, but opened a tired smile and leaned into his touch slightly. He so wished it was Vin driving him home and not Luke. Sadly, luck was not on his side, so Lucas planted a hand on his elbow.

"C'mon, Jon."

"Stop touching me," Jonah complained, but followed him outside the store. Not before looking over his shoulder and telling Vince, "take the blue suit."

Lucas didn't say a thing as they took the elevator down to the garage. He was playing nice, because Jonah didn't feel well and the simple thought made him want to argue more. He despised being pitied.

"You really don't have to drive me anywhere, I can get a cab home," Jonah pointed out and Lucas rolled his eyes.

"Remember in high school when you decided to do all our group projects on your own and then got so overworked and nervous that you puked in the middle of the seminar presentation?"

He really hated having shared history with Lucas, Jonah thought sourly.

"I didn't puke because I was overworked, lunch made me sick," Jonah lied through his teeth and Lucas shot him a look that was just full of disbelief as he had done seven years before.

"Sure," he held the elevator door open and then followed Jonah into the parking lot, planting a hand on his shoulder and guiding him to his big truck, instead of Jon's sleek sport car, "my point being. Let people help you."

"I let people help me all the time."

"Why do you have to constantly argue with me?" Lucas scoffed and clicked on his keys, making the car unlock, "really, whatever I say, you just have to say something disagreeing. What the fuck, Jon?"

"It's because you think you're right all the time!" Jonah scoffed, then entered the car regardless, "you act like you're the smartest person in the room at all times, and honestly, to no one's surprise, you're really not, Atwood."

"Oh? I'm the arrogant one?" Lucas turned on the car and started driving off, sounding annoyed, "you're the one constantly making snide little comments and acting like everyone's stupid."

"Not everyone, just you," Jonah couldn't help but retort, knowing full well he had just proved Lucas' point. He groaned, leaned forward and rested his forehead on his hands, elbows planted on his knees, "just- Just shut up, we don't have to talk-"

"Gladly," Lucas snapped, then went quiet. So quiet that in the silence of the car, they could hear clearly as his stomach whined and bubbled.

Jonah let out a tiny burp, rubbed his temples as the pressure from before came back. He wanted to be lying down, far away from Lucas so he could be gross without humiliating himself.

"That doesn't sound great."

"No shit," Jonah dug his hand into his belly and let out a small burp, wincing as his head throbbed harder, "I think I got the flu or something."

"Are you gonna hurl?"

He turned his head to see Lucas eyeing him wearily and Jonah sighed, resting against the window, "no, I'll be fine," he sighed, "please, just - Just drive."

Lucas let out a little noise, like a licked puppy and Jonah scoffed, pressing his eyes closed. He couldn't deal with Luke's feelings when he felt this awful.

Finally the car came to a stop in front of Jonah's building and he took a second to situate himself, opening the door slowly, "thanks for the ride."

"Do you want me to come up?" Lucas ignored him, chewing at his lip nervously, "I'm going up."

"No," Jonah glared at him, "no, I'm fine. Stop."

"You're clearly sick and-"

"Lucas," Jonah pinched his nose bridge, "I'm fine. I just want to sleep."

There was a minute of silence, then Lucas nodded, "I'm calling you later and you better pick up or I'm sending an ambulance."

"You're insane," Jonah rolled his eyes, tried not to smile, "Bye," he grumbled, then finally got out of the car.