#Rootbeer Writes

[rootbeergoddess]

Nothing to Worry About

I guess you could say this is a prequel to A Warm, Inviting Family. Since I’m still jobless, I decided to write while looking for a job.

~*~

“They’re here, they’re here!” Misturi was bouncing with excitement.

Rengoku and Y/N entered the master’s house. IN Y/N’s arm was their newborn baby, fast asleep. Mistrui squealed and ran over with Tengen’s wives behind them. 

“Oh my gosh, is that her?” Misturi asked. “Y/N, she’s perfect! Look at how small she is!”

“She already has some hair, look!” Makio pointed. “It’s the color of Rengoku’s.”

“She’s adorable! I bet she’ll be pretty, just like Y/N!” Suma said.

“We shouldn’t be smothering her like this,” Hinatsuru said. “But this is exciting. You’re the first of us to have a baby Y/N.”

“It was an exciting pregnancy. Ruka took a while to get out,” Y/N chuckled. “Misturi, Rengoku asked me to allow you to hold the baby first.”

“Really? I can hold her?” Misturi asked.

“Of course! Out of everyone, you were the most excited,” Y/N said. “Plus, you were so helpful. So please, sit down.”

Misturi squealed again before she sat down. She was vibrating with joy. You chuckled as you handed your baby over to the Love Hashria. Misturi looked down at Ruka with so much love; it was a precious scene. Ruka had woken up and was staring at Misturi.

“Hello, Baby Ruka! I’m your Auntie Misturi! Guess what? I already love you! I love you so much!”

Y/N sat down next to Mistrui. She was tired, but she could feel her energy returning. She had been in the Butterfly Mansion for days and could now be around her friends again. She loved her husband, and Shinobu had been great, but she had been dying to show the baby to everyone.  Misturi had been waiting for days to see Ruka; Rengoku said he felt terrible that she couldn’t be in the room for the birth. You felt bad, too but Shinobu had insisted it be only her and your husband.

Misturi didn’t seem to hold a grudge. She was cooing at Ruka, already in love. A string of white slithered over to the two of you. Kaburamaru, Obanai’s snake, went up Misturi’s arm and placed himself on Ruka’s stomach. Obanai ran over his face red.

“Come back here,” He said to the snake.

The snake shook its head. You didn’t even know snakes could do that. The snake was looking at Ruka, who was staring at him. You swore the snake smiled.

“Kaburamaru, come here,” Obanai demanded.

“Oh, even Kaburamaru loves the baby!” Misturi cooed.

“I’m sorry,” Obanai said. “Kaburamaru, come here right now!”

“Hang on,” Y/N said. “Obanai, sit down.”

Obanai looked at Misturi, his face turning red. He obeyed, though. 

“Misturi, let Obanai hold Ruka.”

“Wait, I---”

Misturi handed the baby over, and Obanai froze. He was staring at her with confusion and fear. He held her away from him, fear in his eyes. Was this his first time holding a baby?

“What--what do I do?” He asked.

“Here, hold her like this,” Misturi said.

She moved his arm, so Ruka’s head was in the crook of his arm. Obanai’s face was redder than a cherry. Once Ruka was in his arms, Obanai looked at her. His face returned to normal as he stared at her. 

“Okay, I’ll admit it. She’s pretty cute,” Obanai said. “You can’t stay with her, though, Kaburamaru.” 

Rengoku was watching from afar. He wore the biggest smile on his face. His love for Y/N continued to grow; watching her as a mother was inspiring. Already, she was filled with so much love for their baby. He was happy to see that Ruka was calm as she was given to others. He knew Mistrui would have died had she not gotten to hold Ruka first. He felt honored that his friends already loved his daughter.

“I thought the baby was in Y/N’s stomach,”

Rengoku was used to Muichiro popping up randomly. Rengoku laughed at his comment.

“Not anymore! She’s here, fully realized!”

“Why is the baby so small?”

“They’re little humans; they’re supposed to be small,” Rengoku said. “But she’ll grow! Grow into a wonderful human being.”

“Ah, there is the man of the hour!”

Tengen patted Rengoku on the back and brought him in for a hug.

“Congratulations are in order!” He said. “You’re officially a father now.”

“I, too, would like to offer my congratulations,” Gyoemi said. “Having a baby is no small feat. I cannot think of two finer people for parents.”

Rengoku felt his heart swell. Marrying Y/N hadn’t been scary but starting a family was terrifying. It wasn’t that he didn’t have faith in Y/N being a mother; he didn’t have faith in himself. Would he mess up? Babies were so small and fragile. Rengoku had numerous nightmares where he dropped his poor baby.  What would happen if he dropped her? The scarier thought was, what if he ended up like his father? As much as he loved the former Flame Hashira, Rengoku didn’t want to turn into him.

“Hey, what’s with that look?” Tengen nudged Rengoku. “No sour faces here. That’s unflashy.”

“Sorry, just distracted I guess,” Rengoku admitted. “I was thinking---”

“Unflashy thoughts,” Tengen poked his friend’s sides. “I don’t want any negativity tonight. Let me guess; you’re scared you won’t be a good father?”

“Preposterous! Rengoku, you are by far one of the best men I have ever met,” Gyoemi said. “Your fathering skills will be unparalleled.” 

“You were nervous when you got married, too,” Tengen said. “You came to me one night, asking if there was a book on how to be a good husband.”

“Oh, I had forgotten about that,” Rengoku chuckled. 

“You worry too much,” Tengen said. “You’ve got this.”

“There you are Kyo,” Y/N said, Ruka in her arms. “I’ve been looking for you. Oh, Tengen, this is perfect! Kyo, we can finally ask him.”

“Ask me what?” Tengen said.

“Well,” Rengoku took Ruka from Y/N. “Tengen, you’re my closet friend. You’ve been there for me and continue to do so. So I was hoping that you’d do the honors of being my daughter’s godfather.”

“And your wives,” Y/N said. “We want them to be her godmothers.”

Tengen was quiet as he looked between the couple and then down at Ruka. He took her Ruka and held her up, laughing loudly.

“Of course, I’ll be her godfather! No one is flashier than me; I’m perfect for the job!” Tengen said. “Girls, girls, we’re going to be godparents!”

Rengoku chuckled and put his arm around his wife. His fears had vanished; he had nothing to worry about. He watched as Tengen’s wives crowded around him, giving Ruka more than enough attention.

“I told you they’d all love her,” Y/N said. “You were worried about nothing.”

“I guess I was,” Rengoku wrapped an arm around his wife. “My fears were misplaced.”

“They always are,” Y/N said, leaning against her husband. “Sweetie, you’re a wonderful husband and will be a great father. I just know it.”

“Thank you, my love,” Rengoku kissed her cheek.

“So, where do babies come from?”  Muichiro asked suddenly.

“Oh, Muichiro!” Y/N hadn’t realized the young boy was still standing by her husband.

“I think I hear the Master calling us; we must go!” Rengoku said, grabbing Y/N’s hand and walking off.

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #97

The Justice League fought hard against the anti ecto acts but unfortunately it wasn’t enough and the laws were passed anyways but not before a clause was added to them that states the JL had the right to pull a ghost out of a facility of they had potential to work for them. When they see the potential hero Phantom is caught by the GIW they of course do their best to acquire him. Unfortunately the government sees Phantom as JL property now instead of his own person. Phantom seemed content being trapped on the watchtower and explained it was better than whatever the GIW was planning. Superman thinks something weird is going on with the ghost as when he supposedly went to bed in the room he was assigned he’d temporarily gain a heartbeat again. Constantine is just glad the young prince hasn’t decided to kill anyone in the US congress yet for passing such a ridiculous law. Batman’s adoption senses are tickling.

[passerinesoncaffeine]

SHIT I FORGOT TO POST THIS ON HERE

[candyfsh]

𐙚 ⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ the diner

by candyfsh

——————————————————————————

dallas winston sits inside of a booth, manspreading and glancing around the diner while he chats simply with his buddies, ponyboy and johnny. he seems to be looking for something, which brings the attention of johnny.

"you lookin for somethin, dal?" johnny asks. dallas looks back toward the slightly younger boys with a small, casual scoff, not meaning annoyance. he shakes his head no.

"nah, man, jus' lookin around..." although, dallas was looking for something. he was looking for someone. despite his denial, johnny and ponyboy couldn't help but notice how he looked over the workers and smirked at one of them. she was giving someone their coffee at the table right behind them, which means the three boys are next.

ponyboy is very observant. so he automatically notices dallas's smirk and what it means. it means he's gonna tease her, which is exactly what dallas does.

"hey, sweetheart," dallas calls out to the waitress, his new york accent thick in the "heart." he licks his lips before speaking again. "how's the shift goin, baby?"

this waitress doesn't even have to look to know who it is. she sighs softly as she finishes with the customer behind them. "decent."

dallas chuckles at her response. she's always like this. whenever dallas is here, he always makes sure that y/n is serving him. even if he gets a different waiter or waitress, he demands to talk to her. dallas is just like that.

"not gonna look at me?" his amused smirk is very genuine. dallas watches y/n intently as she wraps things up by giving the customer a sugar packet and a thing of cream. he's unadmittedly impressed with how she works.

"nope." she responds simply, smiling at the other customer before asking if that's all he wants. dallas notices how genuinely sweet she is. it isn't an act. she just doesn't like to be sweet to dallas because of how annoying he is, which he can respect. now, she starts to walk over to his table. he adjusts his position to sit straight forward, facing her, still with the cocky smirk. he leans his elbows on the table as he can hear ponyboy and johnny share a snicker. "you ready to order?"

dallas shifts to manspread again while his friends nod. "for sure, sweetheart." he winks playfully, which pulls a disgusted nose-scrunch from y/n and amused giggles from ponyboy and johnny.

y/n goes in the order she sees them, except dallas is going to be last. she pulls the cap off of her pen gently with her teeth which is unspeakably attractive to dallas. "okayy, what do you want, cutie?" she asks, nodding her head toward ponyboy with a soft smile. while ponyboy gets ready to order a drink, johnny can't help but notice the look on dallas's face. it's a look that can only be described as a pure liking to the waitress. dallas has a crush.

"uhh, a rootbeer, please." ponyboy responds with a sheepish smile. he scratches the back of his head, obviously a bit nervous but flattered by her compliment. dallas looks at ponyboy and furrows his eyebrows. he's not jealous. ponyboy has a tendency to get slightly nervous around pretty girls.

y/n writes that down in her notepad. "okay, baby, how 'bout you?" she nods toward johnny. johnny looks up at her and can't help but feel a bit bashful himself. dallas rolls his eyes and looks back up at his favorite waitress.

"a coffee." as he responds a bit quietly, y/n can't help but notice how different they seem to be from dallas. they're sweet and bashful while dallas flirts with anyone and is naturally rough around the edges.

she nods and writes it down. "how do you like your coffee?"

johnny shrugs a little and thinks with a small hum. "a little cream." he looks over at dallas before looking back up at the waitress. dallas is still looking at her, waiting for her to give him attention.

she writes it down once more before looking over at dallas. when their eyes meet, dallas smirks again. it's the same amused smirk as before. he waits to see if she'll give him a sweet nickname.

"what would you like, dallas?"

he leans forward a little, looking up at her. they both seem to notice the other's pretty eyes at the same time. dallas's big brown eyes looking up at her with her soft doe-like eyes looking down at him. "what, no nicknames for me? thought i was special, babydoll."

she chuckles at the last sentence, her pen still ready to write in her hand. "no, the most you're getting is 'dally.' so, why don't you tell me what you want?" she tilts her head while looking at him, glancing back at her notepad.

he sighs dramatically, raising his arms a bit in mock defense and leaning against the booth. "just a coke, and i don't want that gross cherry coke shit." he says playfully, knowing she loves cherry coke.

she rolls her eyes playfully, writing down regular coke in her notepad. "boo. okay, will that be all, boys?"

johnny and ponyboy nod in response again, while dallas prefers to be outspoken. especially with her. he loves having her attention on him, even if he'd never admit it. "yeah, that'll be all. thanks, doll. you're not that bad at your job."

"thanks, dal." she responds with a small smile. he returns the smile before she turns around and heads to her coworkers. as she gets stuff ready, dallas tries to pry his eyes off of her.

"you love her." johnny teases gently. ponyboy snickers. although, dallas is not amused or entertained. he just rolls his eyes.

"i don't love nothin."

ponyboy pipes up. "yeah, you do, and it's the pretty waitress." ponyboy wasn't one to tease dallas due to slight fear and not liking him much, but this is acceptable. johnny chuckles and so does ponyboy.

dallas shushes them. "shut the fuck up, she could hear..."

[bunnys-kisses]

Hiii bunny, can i get a chocolate chip cookie and rootbeer with carlos sainz pretty pleasee

bakery menu

want to suggest your own order? check out the menu! thank you for the order, lovely anon! i have been meaning to write more carlos, so thank you for suggesting this! i always have a sweet spot for the root beer prompt!

chocolate chip cookie ("you're beautiful when you smile, but you're the prettiest when my cock is in your throat") + root beer (filming/recording) served by carlos sainz jr (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, oral sex (carlos receiving), filming, dirty talk

you could feel the subtle thud in your chest as you got down on your knees. the camera of carlos' phone was close to your face as you started to undo his belt. the sturdy leather felt good in your hands as you got it off of his waist.

you knew that carlos has a collection of videos and photos of you, all private of course. carlos would never sell or give away those intimate images of you. it was in a safe folder on his phone, where only he could access it.

"you look beautiful." he said as he took your cheek in his hand. he chuckled when you looked up at him, your gaze was so sweet. he then tapped your lips with his finger and smiled down at you, "te extrañé." he said truthfully.

you looked up at him, your hands on the waistband of his briefs, "on my knees, i look beautiful." you giggled a little before you kissed his bulge ever so sweetly.

he replied, "you're beautiful when you smile, but you're the prettiest when my cock is in your throat" then rubbed his thumb up against your pretty lips, "i could have you in any position and you'd be the most beautiful woman in the world."

you chuckled and gazed up towards the camera, you felt the flutter in your chest as you stayed there in front of him. he loved you so much, he thought of the world about you. and it was seen in how he interacted with you.

"i can't believe you are filming me. this is always embarrassing." you can feel the heat in your cheeks as you got close to his cock once more. you pulled his briefs under his impressive size.

he patted your cheek and said lovingly, "i only do it because you're so beautiful. i want to get you from every angle. so when we're apart, i have a part of you with me." then shuddered when you wrapped your lips around his cock.

it was going to be an erotic video over all, you were just beautiful with carlos' cock in your throat. you took him so well, learning how to take down his large cock was a bit much at first. but overtime you really learned over time. you shifted on your knees and held onto his strong thighs.

you took him so pretty, the way that you sucked his cock. it was just painfully prefect. it made you shudder a little bit when he grasped the back of your head and sank you further on his impressive length.

the sounds of sex filled the air, your wet mouth around his cock. you kept a steady rhythm and he groaned a little bit from the pressure. it all felt so good that it made the blood rush in his ears.

"my beautiful girl.' he cooed, "i'll be thinking about you the entire time i'm gone. and then when i come home with that trophy, i'm going to fuck you nice and slow. feel all of your body." he shifted in his seat and held the back of your head while you orally pleasured him.

he was hunched over you as he held your head. your mouth around his cock and it made him hot all over. he could feel the leap in his heartbeat as he kept his cock in your mouth.

you were perfect for him and it made it hard for him to keep recording. but he wanted to capture this for a lifetime. you took your mouth off him and kissed the tip before you slid back down on it. it made the spanish driver shudder at the feeling.

"my beautiful, beautifil girl." he groaned a little as he continued to rut his cock up against your throat. it made his heart beat a little louder in his ears as he felt the lust in his gut.

the camera was right in your face and for a moment you glanced at it before you closed your eyes once more and continued to suck him off. you shifted in your spot a little, wanting your lover carnally. you could feel the heat in your belly.

carlos was blissed out on the couch. he could feel his heartbeat in his throat as you sucked him off. it was painfully hot, the sight of you, the feeling of you. his hand wobbled as he held the camera, almost dropping it when the pleasure got too intense.

you looked up at the camera once more and smiled a little bit. you swallowed him down dutifully, and your heart slammed into your chest.

he leaned his head back and moaned, "por favor, mi amor." then came down your throat and it was like a punch in the gut when he felt you swallow him all down. the saltiness lingered in your mouth and he could feel his heart palpitations.

he almost dropped his phone and heavily panted. he said, "my beautiful girl. i love you." before he turned off the video and put his phone to the side. he shift on the couch and felt his sweat go through his t-shirt.

you slowly took your mouth off of him and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, getting all the spit off your chin. you rested on your heels and smiled up at him.

he got his cock into his briefs the helped you onto his lap. he put his head on top of yours and sighed happily. he loved the feeling of you, "you were so pretty on your knees." he kissed the crown of your head.

you wrapped your arms around him and giggled, "thank you. you weren't too bad yourself." then looked at him to give him a kiss on the lips.

he smiled into the kiss. the video would be stored away in a little bit. somewhere safe on his phone was only for his prying eyes. because with the rest of the season coming up. he wanted to make sure he had you from every angle.

his beloved angel. <3

[oneirophobic]

Could you please write one about matt in which he has a burst of undirected anger towards the reader because of the anxiety he has been having the last few days and the reader comforts him?? Ilysmm take ur time<33

unintentional - matt sturniolo

pairing : matt sturniolo x gn!reader

genre : fluff with a hint of angst

warnings : anxiety

a/n : loving these requests, keep them coming!

matt had been having these outbursts for the past few days, i knew exactly what was going on. my own anxiety does it to me as well, so i let it flow out. but, there is so much anger that wells in his body that once it all spills out, it refills again and again.

today, i laid on his bed with my nose in my book as he took a shower to try and calm himself. once he exited the bathroom, he sat down to finish editing a video.

i drowned out the replaying video until i had heard matt's breathing pick up. "matt, you okay honey?" i asked softly.

"no, this stupid shit-" he exclaimed, slamming his hands on his desk and standing up beginning to pace around the room. i stood up with him, stopping him in his tracks, "matt, it's okay. can i help you with it?"

"no, it's my work! you shouldn't have to work for me while i have a meltdown like a little kid!" he exclaimed, his throat tightening.

"matt, deep breaths," i spoke, "you're not acting like a little kid, you're just having a hard time, and that's alright." he began wiping his tears, about to speak before i cut him off, "can i hug you?"

he was quick to accept, wrapping his arms around my waist. "how about i get you something to eat and we can work on it together, okay?"

"okay," he croaked into my shoulder.

matt sat back down and waited for me to come back. i came back with with a bag of chips and a can rootbeer for him. i sat down on his lap and helped him with the rest of the editing while he wrapped his arms around my waist and had his head on my shoulder.

"thank you y/n/n, i dunno what i'd do without you," he mumbled into the crook of my neck. "of course baby, i love you," i spoke softly, turning my head to place kiss his temple.

[literaila]

could you write something super domestic, like peter and reader baking together or something similar

i lauv ur writing btw

drive through

a/n: not what you were looking for i’m sure but it’s the only thing that struck a cord blah

*

“a number three” you whisper, leaning across the console to squint at the menu. “with… a coke.”

peter repeats your order, much louder than you might’ve thought possible, then opens his mouth, but not before—

“oh and one of those ice cream things”

he raises his eyebrow and turns to you. “a shake?”

“no, peter. that thingy you got last time with, like, the syrup and the—“

“you want a sundae?”

“i know what a sundae is.” you roll your eyes, but nod anyway.

peter quickly apologizes to the person unfortunate enough to be taking your order. “what size, bub?”

“how big are they?”

he holds two hands a couple of inches apart while shaking his head. “you want the same as what i got? it was medium.”

“okay.”

“and a medium sundae,” peter repeats. he waits a beat, and you watch him scratch his jaw while his eyes dart across the illuminated menu. “and then can i also get a number 6 combo, with extra sauce and a rootbeer?”

he looks over to you, then back to the speaker. “and can i add a large fry to that?”

a muffled voice answers pleasantly, naming the total and asking for his name, and then he’s driving you away from the speaker and you punch him in the shoulder.

“you’re not going to eat all that!”

peter frowns, his eyes darting towards you. “uh, yes i am.”

“no you’re not. we just ate, like, two hours ago.”

“i’ll share.”

you laugh. “with me?”

peter scoffs, and he’s finally stopped, so he looks at you with big brown eyes and glowing cheeks. “no. with larry a few doors down.”

“oh, i see how it is. you think larry’s going to let you be the little spoon?”

“for at least three minutes. before he puts on his c-pap machine and starts snoring.”

“that’s better than giving me some of your fries?”

peter pokes you in the shoulder. “better than being used as a space heater all night.”

“i don’t use you!”

“then how come i’m constantly pushing your cold feet off of my thighs?”

you cross your eyes. “maybe because someone likes to give death hugs in his sleep.”

peter’s mouth opens then closes. “i. do. not.”

you laugh at him. “yes you do—you hold on to me and when i tell you to let me go you just say ‘i won’t let you fall, i’m not’—“

“um. 17.46?”

both you and peter turn to look at the girl staring at the two of you with wide eyes.

peter coughs. “yeah, of course, let me just—“ me scrambled through the center console, dropping multiple things in your lap before grabbing his wallet. “just get my card, here.”

he hands it to the girl giving her a wide smile like he’s been waiting all day for this opportunity.

and when she’s gone, he turns to you with accusing eyes.

“what? i didn’t do anything.”

he leans closer to you. “they’re going to spit in our food.”

“the outside antibodies will probably be good for larry.”

and then peter laughs and pulls forward. but not before you give him a kiss on the cheek.

*

[rootbeergoddess]

Primrose Quartz Maheswaran-Universe

So I rewatched Steven Universe and caught up on the last season along with the movie and Steven Universe Future. You guys know me, I love giving canon character babies so it's time for the daughter of Connie and Steven! (When they're all grown up)

~*~

“Ladies, gentlemen, and gems of all ages!” Greg said. “After years of being away from Beach City, finishing college, and getting married, our favorite couple is back with a new addition. May I present to you Primrose Quartz Maheswaran-Universe!”

Greg opened the door to Steven’s old house, and polite clapping was heard as Steven entered with Connie. Their three-month-old baby, Primrose, was wide awake and taking everything in. When she saw Greg, she reached for him, and Greg took her, making everyone in the room go, ‘Aw.’

“Oh, let me see her; I must see her!” Pearl said. “Oh, look at her! She’s so perfect and chubby. Look at her little cheeks!”

“Primrose, this is Aunty Pearl,” Greg said. “She’s going to teach you how to be proper and, possibly, teach your sword stuff when you’re older.”

Primrose reached for Pearl. Pearl gasped and took her. Steven watched, unable to hide his smile. Primrose had proven to be friendly. Of course, she loved Greg. There were times when Steven had to fight to get his daughter back. She’d be curled up on Greg’s chest, her little fingers clinging to his clothing. She’d sometimes cry when Steven would take her back. Connie squeezed his hand, and he looked at her.

“I told you she’d love them,” Connie said.

“Okay, you were right,” Steven said. “It’s just a lot of people to meet. In the book I read, babies can get overwhelmed easily.”

“Hello, Primrose,” Pearl said. “As Greg said, I’ll be the one to teach you many things. Of course, you’ll be going to school. We’re going to make sure of that.”

“My turn, my turn, my turn!” Amethyst poked Pearl in the side. “I wanna see her!”

“Amethyst, stop that!” Pearl said. “I’ll give her to you, but you better hold her properly. Support her head at all times.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, give her here!” Amethyst demand.

Pearl reluctantly handed Primrose over. Primrose stared at Amethyst; she stuck out her tongue, and Primrose giggled.

“Hey, kiddo, I’m Amethyst! I’m going to be the fun aunt! Just wait until you get older! I’ll show you how to cliff dive!”

“You will not!” Pearl said. “That is out of the question!”

“Wow, this sounds familiar,” Steven chuckled.

It was like he had been taken back in time. He remembered how much Pearl had worried about him and her squabbles with Amethyst. God, he had caused so much trouble when he was younger. It was surreal thinking about his younger years. Here he was, married with a baby. Time really flew by. As Pearl argued about safety, Garnet reached down and plucked Primrose from Amethyst’s hands. Primrose cooed, grabbing hold of Garnet’s finger.

“Tiny hands,” She grinned. “My one weakness.” 

“I still don’t believe that thing came from Steven,” Peridot finally spoke. “It doesn’t look a thing like Steven. And why isn’t it called Smaller Steven or Lesser Steven? It would make more logical sense!”

“I see Peridot is still having trouble understanding what a baby is,” Connie chuckled. 

“She’s not Steven. She’s her person,” Garnet said. “Humans create other humans, but they’re not copies of them. Primrose will grow up to be her unique person.”

Peridot was about to argue when Garnet grabbed her by the hand and took her to the couch. Peridot was confused when Primrose was handed to her. The gem looked terrified as she held Primrose away from her. Garnet gently pushed Primrose back and then fixed Peridot’s arms so she had the baby correctly. 

“Ah, what do I do? What do I do? Steven, guide me!” Peridot begged.

“Just hold her,” Steven said. “Talk to her.”

“Um--Peridot glanced down at the baby. “I’m Peridot. I’m a part of the Crystal Gems. I mostly reside at Little Homeworld. I met your father when I tried to destroy the planet.”

Primrose cooed, and then she gave Peridot a huge smile. Peridot stared at her before hugging her.

“This is my human now,” She declared. “You can’t have her back.”

“Hey, you can’t steal my grandbaby!” Greg said.

Steven burst out laughing. He had missed this chaos. Being on his own had been fantastic. Traveling the United States, meeting new people, and seeing the world had been cathartic. He had done that for a few years before Connie had started hinting she was ready to settle down. Steven had been waiting to hear those words from her, and after they got hitched, a baby was the next step. 

Part of him had been terrified. Steven had no idea if his baby would be part Gem like he was. Rose Quartz had made an enormous sacrifice by having him, and Steven was scared it would be the same. Thankfully, the pregnancy went by without any issues. The only weird thing was Connie’s pickles, ice cream and sauerkraut dinners. Steven had been with Connie for every step of the process, from the classes to the doctor’s appointments. There had been no weird gem issues, except Primrose had been born with curly, pink hair. Other than that, everything went fine.

The warp pad glowed; Lapis and Bismuth had arrived. Bismuth was carrying something huge that was wrapped in mismatched wrapping paper. 

“Sorry we’re late,” Lapis said. “We had to bring the gift.”

“Where is she? I want to see this baby,” Bismuth said, setting the significant gift down.

“Garnet had to steal her back from Peridot,” Connie said.

Sure enough, Garnet had plucked Primrose from Peridot’s tiny hands. She walked over to Lapis and Bismuth.

“Whoa, she’s tiny!” Lapis said. 

“But look at that hair! She has the Quartz curls,” Bismuth chuckled. 

Primrose reached up and grabbed Bismuth’s nose. Bismuth chuckled again, making the baby smile.

“That’s one heck of a grip you got there,” Bismuth said. 

“You’re too close!” Peridot said. “Move back; you might have germs! I’ll go find the disinfectant!”

Steve watched as Peridot went to find some spray. He was surprised that she was the one who was more neurotic than Pearl. He glanced back to Bismuth, who was now holding Primrose. She brought the baby to the present. 

“Ready?” Bismuth asked.

Bismuth grabbed the paper and tore it off. Underneath was a gorgeous silver crib with a mobile. Primrose’s name was engraved on it with a gemstone for the ‘o’. Both Steven and Connie gasped.

“Bismuth, that’s beautiful!” Connie said. “You made this for Primrose?”

“Yep!” Bismuth said with pride. “And watch this!”

Bismuth pressed the gemstone. The crib shook before transforming into a toddler bed with a pillow and blanket. Primrose gurgled, wiggling about in Bismuth’s grasp. Connie walked over to the bed and pressed the gem. Sure enough, it went back to its crib form. 

“Bismuth, I’m speechless,” Connie said. “This has to be the most thoughtful and beautiful gift.”

“I did some research on human babies. I thought this gift would be the most helpful,” Bismuth. “What do you think, squirt?”

Bismuth placed Primrose in the crib. Primrose sat down and took in her surroundings. She then lay down in the crib, snuggling into the mattress. Peridot burst into tears.

“She’s so cute!” She bawled. “I love her so much!”

Steven couldn’t stop grinning. He was so happy Primrose had the Crystal Gems in her life. She may not have to save the universe or fight monsters, but she will always be loved.

“Whatcha thinking about schtu-ball?” Greg nudged Steven.

“I’m just happy,” Greg said. “I knew they’d love her, but seeing them love her just---feels right, ya know?”

“How could we not love her? She has the Universe charm,” Greg wrapped an arm around Steven. “Our family is known for making cute babies.”

Steven laughed.

“Peridot, get out of the crib,” Bismuth said.

“NEVER!” Peridot had climbed into the crib with Primrose.

“Oh boy,” Steven chuckled. “This might be a problem.”

[prncssie]

caution! mdni 13k wrdz, best friend's bother!hobie x black fem! reader, hobie is twenty one, reader is 19, small town in the country, everyone knows everyone, a very brief moment of angst, reader is jealous, misunderstanding troupe (?) but quickly resolved, crybaby reader, kitchen sex w/people in the house, unprotected sex, fingering, handjob, cunnilingus, p in v sex, unprotected sex, facial, cum eating, open ending

miffy's note! this took me like two weeks to write which is so much faster than every other fic i’ve written in a while. i knowwww she has a lot of words but she is my baby and I hope everyone loves her as much as I do. enjoy <3 pls do not spam like my blog if you enjoyed it, feel free to tell me in the reblogs

there’s a waxy smell in the freshly opened soda shop, one that reminds you of the shiny tiles that line the floor of the high school you graduated from, the high school most people graduated from.

highbury high, smack dab in the middle of highbury hills. it’s the only high school for miles, operating on a set curriculum and generic uniforms. fits right in with the small town vibe.

“do you know what you want?” your long-time friend, maise, glances over at you. she’s a darling thing, curly hair braided into pigtails and tied with two white ribbons. her arms are crossed over her stomach, clothed in a white tank top just barely cropped. “there’s so many options, i can’t decide.”

you sniff, eyes glazing over the yellow tinted menu. your tongue skims over your lips, getting a taste of the vanilla flavored lip gloss. “i dunno. i don’t even think i want anything. i’m too nervous, like i’m gonna throw up.”

maise’s deer shaped eyes find yours in sympathetic understanding. “aw, honey. it’ll be okay. it’s been years, now. i doubt he even remembers.” her hands massage the kinks out your tense shoulders in a tight grip. “you were a kid, anyway.”

“yeah, maybe.” you offer a small smile in return. you find you’re disinterested in the menu, stomach rolling in its queasiness for the anticipated scenario. “i still don’t think i want anything. i don’t think i could keep it down.”

maise just shrugs and orders a rootbeer float for herself. she gets your anxiety but she’s never been the best at helping you through your emotions, even more so when she can’t relate. maise doesn’t have an older brother, not one with an attractive best friend that she used to have a crush on as a child.

with the acrylic, milkshake cup settled between the fingers of your friend, you both move towards the booths surrounding the perimeter of the retro-styled shop.

it’s really, very cute. quaint with pop music softly wafting from the speakers and a red, white, and blue theme consistent throughout. america’s sweetheart is what this place is known as, although you prefer to think it’s talking about a better, more ethical version of the country.

“you have to admit it’s kind of exciting, though.” despite your claims, maise still pops a second straw into the float and settles the cup between you. “i mean, your brother and hobie are coming home today and you haven’t seen hobie in like, two years. the last time anyone saw him was on graduation day, right? and then he packed up and left town. and your brother! he kept contact this whole time and didn’t tell anyone? doesn’t that bother you a little bit?”

you wait until she’s retreated to grab the straw between your thumb and pointer finger and tap a long, drawn out sip. the sugary sweetness does nothing to quell your nerves but it gives you time to come up with a response. “mm, not really. hobie is quen’s friend. plus, everyone knew he was gonna skip town. he didn’t like it here and he made that very clear.”

although your words convey otherwise, there’s a small seed of discomfort in your tummy. it would have been nice to keep you in loop, especially since you were under the impression that you and hobie were somewhat acquainted with each other. after all, he’s been good friends with quentin since elementary school and has known you for just about the same amount of time.

“okay but you’re not even curious? not even a little?” maise tilts her head inquisitively, lips drawn in a pout. “hobie is coming home after being gone for two whole years and you don’t care at all.”

“i didn't say i don’t care, mai. i do care and it's nice that he’s stopping by for a visit but let’s be serious, it’s hobie. in all the years we’ve known him, when has he ever committed to anything?” you turn your gaze towards your baby pink nails, shiny and just long enough to clack against your phone when you text. “i don’t want you to get excited over a summer romance that hasn’t even happened and won’t happen. we’re friends and barely that. his loyalty is with quen.”

you can feel the change in the atmosphere the longer you sit in silence. you’re hesitant to look her in the eyes and find a sudden interest in the condensation trickling down the side of the glass.

“uh huh. so if you feel all of that, why are you nervous? you don’t like hobie anymore, and he owes you nothing. what’s the problem then?” she rests her cheek in the palm of her hand, supported by the elbow resting on the table.

instead of answering her question, your hand smacks down against the table. it echoes in the empty room, filled by only you two and mr. terry, the owner of the shop.

“you know what, i have to go. it’s almost three and quen should be home soon. you know how punctual he is.” you grab your purse and sling the strap over your shoulder.

“chicken!” maise points a finger at you. she’s glowing with a toothy grin while watching you prepare to bolt for the door. “you can’t avoid it forever, honey.”

you brush off her comment with a hug and a wave. “whatever. love you. i’ll call you tonight with the details, maybe. bye!”

you all but run out of the shop, white sundress blowing with the opposing force of your movement. it’s not quite three o’clock yet but leaving is better than letting maise interrogate you further. she’s a riot but she got you pinned up against the wall and there’s nothing fun about being forced to answer her questions and face the music you’ve been tuning out for weeks. at least now you’d have some time to freshen up before the great arrival.

by the time you’re finished primping and set the hot curler down to refresh your styled silk press, you can hear the engine of your brother's lexus rolling into the driveway.

you lean forward and tug the curtains back in a firm grip to peak out into the driveway. between you and quentin, you received the larger room with the connected bathroom and it offered a perfect view of the front yard. said view is particularly handy for times like these.

you watch the driver door pop open, breath hitched in your throat and refuse to make any movements until you get the answers you're looking for.

a polished sneaker makes its appearance and becomes stationed on the white pavement. a body follows, tall and stocky and unlike the statuesque frame you’re subconsciously excited about.

pushing yourself even more to your feet and across the expanse of your vanity, you flick the latch of your window until it clicks to signal its unlocked. you push it up with such force that it soars much farther than you anticipated but that’s the least of your concerns right now.

“quentin!” you yell from your bedroom with a wide smile and a vigorous wave at your older brother below you.

your voice gets his attention and he snaps his head in your direction. “ ☆ !” he mirrors your expression, arms open wide in a hug as if he expected you to fly down into his embrace. he bumps the car door closed with his side. “i’m coming up.”

quentin’s words don’t stop you from flinging your door open, running down the stairs, fingertips grazing the wooden railing as you go. to some it may seem odd to be so cheery over the reappearance of your sibling but he’s your best friend, a staple part of your life to which you’d be lost without. if you aren’t running to the front door to see him, then there’s clearly a problem.

he’s already in the entryway, though, and peeling off his jacket to hang in the coat closet. the pittering of your feet long alerted quentin of your presence so he’s not shocked when you’re throwing yourself at him. “jeez, girl. did you eat a whole cow? you’re strong as shit.” his arm comes to wrap around your back and become settled between your shoulder blades.

“shut up,” you roll your eyes in return and separate yourself from him. you give him a once over, from the two strand twists at the top of his head, across the gray nike tech, and to the pristine white laces of his shoes. “wow, you really don’t look like you belong here anymore. that’s crazy, quen. you’re all grown up.”

“yeah well,” he pushes the closet door closed, waiting for its creaking hinges to silence before continuing his sentence, “gotta get out of this town someday. not you, though. you can stay. it suits you.” quentin’s eyes are filled with a brotherly fondness while giving you a similar once over. “where’s ma?”

you follow him to the bathroom to watch him wash his hands. “at work. dad, too. told me to text them when you get home but, uh, where’s all your stuff?”

quentin flicks his wrists into the sink and side-steps you. he rounds the corner to enter the kitchen, making a beeline for the fridge and popping it open. “oh, it’s at hobie’s place. i figured i’d leave the extra shit there since he has his own crib. do you know what mom’s making for dinner?”

you’re still trailing behind him, now leaned against the countertop with your arms crossed over your chest. when you’re face to face with the source of your turmoil, it’s hard to pretend it doesn’t exist. “so he really is back in town, huh.” it's not a question with the way you say it, staring at your fluffy sandals designated for wearing inside the house.

“mhm. forgot how talkative people here are. news spreads fast.” he pulls out a container of last night's leftovers and sets it beside you, already closing the fridge and moving on to find a plate. when his eyes find their way back to you, he’s surprised to see you glaring at him. “why are you looking at me like that?”

“because i’m a little upset that you didn’t tell me he was coming home. i get it if he didn’t want to draw attention to himself but it’s just me. i thought we were all cool.”

“we are all cool. it just slipped my mind, swear.” quentin bounces around the kitchen. he’s still engaged in your conversation though his sole focus is getting some food in his system but every now and then, he’ll glance at you while scooping fried rice onto a plate. “i didn’t intentionally not tell you. i just had a lot to do with the packing and the whole coming home thing. plus, you just finished your first year of college so i didn’t think you’d care so much. which you also still have to tell me how it went,” he puts the fork in his mouth and sticks the plate in the microwave.

“quentin,” you’re tempted to stomp your foot, no matter how childish it will come across.

“i didn’t exclude you on purpose, ☆ . i forgot and i’m sorry. next time, i’ll tell you as soon as i know.”

you’re somewhat pacified with his response, tossing his words over and over in your head until your concerns are soothed and the gloomy feeling dissipates. “fine but you have no idea what i had to go through with maise today. i swear she had all these theories and speculations about what its going to be like that i could have avoided if you told me.”

the microwave beeps, ringing its alarm that the timer has finished all throughout the kitchen. quentin is quick to take out his steaming plate and make his way towards the table with you still in tow. “oh, maise! how is she? i haven’t seen her in a minute.”

“she’s good. good grades, likes her college, majoring in child development. who cares, though. i want to know about hobie. it’s been two years.” you sit next to him, even going as far as pushing the chairs closer as if the topic needed it, as if hobie is a taboo subject.

“he’s great. he’ll be by later, said he wanted to stop by and see you and then he has to make his rounds.” quen shovels a forkful of food into his mouth. he’s eyeing his plate with an almost blank stare. you’re too close for him to feel comfortable looking at you, expectantly. as if he’s going to drop some big news about hobie’s return.

he's not an idiot. he knows, knew, about your crush on his best friend. it was obvious watching you go through all the childish phases, giggling to clinging onto to him to trying to play it cool. quentin has seen it all and he doesn’t think he can handle watching your excitement grow and dull when hobie ultimately makes his decision to leave. “he’s got that place he rents out when he’s not here. don’t know how long he plans on staying, though. when i asked, hobie said two months so i guess we’ll see.”

you’re blissfully unaware of the idea that quentin’s words are for your sanity, to calm the budding excitement as you gather strands of your hair between the tips of your fingers and stare at the freshly trimmed ends. “that’s nice. maybe he’ll come to the summer festival in a few days.”

that elicits a scoff out of your brother. “fat chance. hobie brown? he’s not showing his face at those things. he thinks they’re capitalistic holidays that prey on children. personally, i think he just really hates this town and is coming up with a bullshit excuse not to go.”

you let the bundle of hair between your fingers go and it drops back towards your shoulder in a soft heap. “did he say that or are you speaking for him?”

“he doesn’t have to say it, stupid. i just know.” quentin points his fork at you, flinging grains of cooked rice in your direction. despite the gross reaction that flashes across your face, all he does is laugh. genuine laughter with his head tilted back, clearly delighted to have bothered his dear sister. “it was an accident. i didn’t mean to.”

“get away from me.” you scrunch your face in disgust and shove the chair away from the table. it screeches against the floorboards with each movement. “you don’t point your fork at someone, dumbass. that’s fucking gross.” you say as you rise to your feet and make your exit, rolling your eyes on the way out.

it’s futile to pretend you aren’t looking forward to hobie pulling into the driveway. behind the closed door of your room, you barely watch the virgin suicides. the volume to the movie is turned down so low, you can almost hear your neighbor’s dog trotting on the pavement enjoying its walk. you’ve even gone as far as to open your window just in case you’d be too preoccupied to hear him as is.

you haven’t bothered to change out of the pretty dress, wanting to give off the best first impression you possibly could. after all these years have passed, it’s nearly critical that hobie sees you as you are, an adult. not because you still harbor feelings for him, but because that’s what you are now. you’re all grown up, just as he is.

quentin’s asleep in his room and offering you no answers as to when his friend is actually arriving nor did he request you to wake up when he does so. it’s only right to assume he’d rather stay asleep when hobie arrives then, isn’t it? especially after such a long trip.

hence why when the sound of hobie’s motorcycle reverberates through the glass pane of your window, you roll off your bed and to your feet with a sudden quickness. contrary to the excitement you greeted your brother with from your upstairs bedroom, you close the window the moment you reach it.

as soon as the white latch clinks shut, you’re flying out the door and down the stairs. the tips of your fingers graze the railing, only truly grasping it when you find yourself losing your balance at the speed you’re moving. if only maise could see you now.

you pull the front door open before hobie has a chance to ring the doorbell with such force, he flinches. there’s still a finger hanging in the air, adorned in silver rings and what seems to be a hand tattoo. that same hand is connected to a body, just as tall as you remember. your eyes trail as far as his shoulders, gaze already tilted upwards and too nervous to continue. it never occurred to you what being face to face with hobie would mean, would entail.

you didn’t think about him and his pine scent, paired with the natural musk of being outside. not once did you even think about the possible changes he’d go through within the past two years. even without looking at his face, you can already point out differences. he’s leaner, more muscles protruding from his tank top. grungier too, with dark wash baggy jorts sitting so low on his waist, you can see the calvin klein boxers peeking through the bottom. if you thought seeing hobie show off his toned stomach was a lot, the sight of the ink on his arm has you at a loss for words. a full sleeve of various line art and doodles.

you’re sick to your stomach.

“you’re back in town!” you finally gain the courage to look him in his eyes and nearly fall to your knees. “and you pierced your face!” your eyes dart between the nose piercing, the lip piercing, and the eyebrow piercing. slowly, you soak it all in, including the shoulder length locs tied into a ponytail. only after all of that do you look him in his eyes, filled with the same warmth and wonder as they were two years ago.

“ ☆ !” hobie’s face lights up with the same childlike glee as before, too. it’s like nothing has changed when he throws his arms around you to envelop you into a tight hug. “you noticed, did you?” he chuckles, deep and smooth right in your ear. unfortunately for you, it sends spirals into your stomach.

“do you like them? i want to get my tongue pierced this summer, too.” he finally pulls away and reveals his toothy grin, full of dazzling white teeth that can only come from regularly visiting a dentist. “but how have you been? i haven’t seen you in forever. you’re so . . .” he gives you his own once-over, much shorter than the one you gave him, “not a little kid anymore.”

you aren’t too sure what to make of that but you step aside anyway to welcome him into your home. suddenly, you’re far more nervous than you were at the mere thought of hobie coming over. he was intimidating just as a concept but in person? he’s even worse. he’s too pretty and composed. “i’m so not a little kid anymore?” you try to offset your awkwardness by turning the situation back to him.

“yeah. i mean, you look nice, ☆ .” hobie stands with his hands in his pockets and a lazy smile. there’s not one ounce of embarrassment or hesitation written on his face. however, it oozes out of you. “so, where’s your brother at? he’s supposed to be going around town with me. it makes it less weird if we’re both there.”

“oh, quen fell asleep a few minutes ago.” you say with your back to hobie, disguising your reluctance as a sudden interest in turning the lock rather slowly. “you’re welcome to wait until he wakes up but he’s out cold.”

hobie clicks his tongue with a sigh, eyeing the walls of your childhood home. it’s still lined with the same family portraits and kindergarten crafts. there’s even his own graduation picture on the mantle, sandwiched between yours and quentin’s. he snorts at the sight, dressed in the same black graduation cap and gown but missing some of the cords adorned by the others. not only was hobie not too involved in the community, but he merely did what he had to in school with the exception of a few clubs and hobbies. “no, he’ll probably be knocked for a while. i’ll just do it later, i guess.”

you nod, hugging yourself in a tight grip. your act to self soothe during your one-on-one isn’t very effective. the air feels thick with tension. you have the impression that it’s one-sided because hobie turns to face you. 

“how about you come with me instead? we can ride around and go to that one park we used to go to as kids.”

for a moment, your heart drops to your feet. staring into his eyes does nothing good for your nervous system. as much as you attempted to convince both maise and yourself that you harbor no feelings towards hobie at all, everything in you is screaming otherwise.

your eyes settle on the floorboards and you sniff. “i don’t know. i don’t think i’d feel comfortable on your bike. don’t you have to wear gear and stuff?”

“well, yeah i’m supposed to.” he shrugs. his head is tilted to one side. “i don’t, though. not here at least. if i’m on the highway or in a big city then yeah but not here. nothing ever happens here.”  parts of the hobie you subconsciously fear appear as a shadow on his face. the corners of his mouth twitch downwards and his eyes become clouded, but only for a second. “we can take your car if you’d like. i saw it in the driveway. it’s cute.”

he’s referring to the little volkswagen beetle parked just outside with a tan exterior and a decorated interior. it’s full of flower vent clips, pink seat covers, and scented with gain car air freshener.

“um,” you busy yourself by smoothing your hands over the skirt of your dress. suddenly, you’re reflecting on the fact that you are somewhat dressed up. sure, you curl your hair and wear cute dresses on the regular but never have you worn a cute dress, curled your hair, waited for someone to come over, and beat them to the door before they could announce their arrival. “sure. i guess we can do that. i don’t want you to think you have to, though. you came for quentin and he’s asleep so don’t force yourself.”

you’re surprised when hobie laughs, nose wrinkling with genuine enjoyment. he shakes his head and places his hand on your shoulder. it engulfs your skin like a warm blanket and gives you a squeeze. “never change, okay? you’re so sweet. get your keys and let’s go.”

there’s a strawberry field just across the park guarded by a wire fence. some kids gather around the edges and pluck the berries off the overgrown branches that poke just close enough for them to reach with their little fingers.

the breeze carries the sounds of high-pitched laughter and squeals from the children running about. with school just recently letting out, the park is well occupied. it’s a surprise to no one to see a crowd of elementary schoolers running around the slides and pushing each other on the swing.

you sit at a bench. the metal is warmed from the sunlight beaming down. you have your phone in your hand, pumping out back to back texts to maise filled with terrible grammar and even worse spelling. to say you're panicked would be an understatement. you’re more than panicked. you feel so wrong about being here, more or less alone with your brother’s best friend. the same best friend that you’ve had the biggest crush on for years, only for him to disappear and for you to assume everything you’ve ever felt and thought would be gone with him. the same best friend who’s return brought back the juvenile feelings from your youth.

he’s gone to the ice cream truck parked in the parking lot to buy you both popsicles and therefore, giving you about five minutes to figure out your game plan. maise is no help. most her texts consist of “i told you so” and laughing at your inevitable demise. you feel just about ready to melt into the pavement and through your phone across the park, in no particular order. your nails just might break your screen with the amount of force between each push.

“are you mad at someone?”

you're quick to turn your phone off in the amount of time it takes for you to look up at hobie, standing in front of you with two popsicles, one in each hand. “huh? oh, no. it’s just maise. she’s being so stupid.” the frustration has yet to dissipate and your face shows it, huffing a breath of annoyance. “you’d think you ask someone for advice and they’d actually give it to you instead of making fun of you.”

“mm,” hobie has a seat next to you. he hands you the powerpuff girls popsicle, very obviously supposed to be styled after bubbles. its still in it’s wrapper and it’s a good thing at that. already the popsicle began to get a little soft in the summer heat. “advice about what?” he, himself, holds one of those spongebob ones that never come out right. for a moment, you consider that perhaps he’s reminiscing about the days where you, quentin, and hobie would run out at the sound of the ice cream truck and get the silly cartoon popsicles, only to compare who’s looks the worst.

“oh, just about my classes. i don’t know if i want to take one of my electives or not.” you spit out the lie faster than you can really process it. you peel the wrapper off the popsicle and stick it in your mouth to give you an excuse not to speak.

“i definitely can’t help you with that. i didn’t go to college so i really wouldn’t know.” for a brief moment, hobie finds humor in the distorted face of his spongebob popsicle before taking a small bite of the cold corner. “what’s it like? do you like it?”

the question makes you sigh. there really is no response you can give him that would push the conversation forward, especially when you have been asked the very same thing so many times by almost every adult in your life. “um, it’s okay. it’s hard, y’know, to find the motivation to make myself go to class and there’s always some sort of drama going on between someone and someone else.” you reminisce on the boy and friend drama you’ve both witnessed and experienced from a bittersweet perspective.

hobie nods, watching a group of giggling ten year olds run by. they seem to be participating in a game of tag, their cheeks rosy and eyes glistening with what can only be found in childhood. “can’t believe you’re in college now. that used to be us, playing at the park and then going to your house to have dinner.”

you don’t mention that hobie didn’t come to your graduation. instead, you kick a rock by your foot and change the topic of the conversation. “so, if you don't go to college, what do you do?”

“i’m a server at a restaurant. it makes pretty good money, actually. i can afford a one bedroom apartment in the city so i don’t mind. i’m in a band now too and sometimes i make stuff to sell.” he pulls out his phone for a split second to check the notification that vibrated in his phone before sliding it back into his pocket.

you’re grateful that he doesn’t outright tell you what he makes so you’re able to participate in the conversation and ask him, “what kind of stuff?”

“oh, like paintings, crochet stuff, stuff like that. arts and crafts that people like to buy. it does pretty well since that kind of thing is trending.” 

the conversation falls a bit flat after that. you fault yourself, too self conscious to relax around him. a part of you is overjoyed to have him back and another part of you feels like a neglected afterthought. all this time, hobie was doing just fine. he was living his life and choosing who to keep contact with. it hurts your heart that he didn’t consider you at all but is so comfortable with returning and acting like nothing has changed. perhaps he didn’t take you as seriously as you would like.

“oh, that’s cool.” you try not to sound too sour when you say it. “it’s great that you made a life you enjoy.” you watch a blue drop of melted popsicle roll down and drip onto the white plastic gripped between your fingers. gravity continues to pull the droplet down towards the stick and it stains the wood blue.

hobie glances at you, eyebrows knitted together. he takes in your expression and the subtext behind it. it’s obvious what he’s doing behind his scrutinizing gaze. “yeah? you can be honest. you know that, right?”

“mhm,” you nod with a hum. you’re not interested in engaging any further with the topic. instead, you eye a ladybug crawling on the bench armrest. it’s not like you planned on discussing your deep emotional feelings with him anyway, especially not here. “i’m happy for you, really.”

you can still feel hobie’s eyes boring into the side of your face but the feeling does nothing to capture your attention and turn your head back towards him. instead, you nearly praise whatever higher power caused your conversation to be interrupted by an onlooker.

“oh my gosh, hobie brown!”

you both turn your head to the perpetrator. hobie is just as surprised as you are to see magnolia, from high school, walking up to you both. you don’t know her very well considering she was in the same graduating class as your brother but you’re aware of her.

truthfully, you’ve never liked her very much during your younger years. you despised the way she’d cling onto hobie and quentin, often forcing her way into their circle. at least, you’d consider it forcing. quentin always told you not to worry about it.

here she is again, forcing herself into your hangout with your supposed friend who’s there with you. she’s grinning as she walks up to you both, hands planted on her waist. you so badly want to judge her for her outfit choice but you know you can’t. it’s not like you don’t know what type of person magnolia is and how much she pushes the social standards most people operate with. still, something vile twists inside you and even more so when you catch hobie’s eyes wandering across her body.

that is also no surprise because you know their history. of course hobie wouldn’t be able to deny himself from staring at magnolia like this when she’s wearing daisy dukes, a tiny shirt, and so ready to reopen the book of their past.

“look at you. can’t believe you didn’t come by the moment you got back,” she teasingly smacks his arm with a tinkling laugh. her eyes briefly drift to your direction and she smiles out of politeness. “oh hey, sugar. tell your brother i said hi, would you?”

you nod and pull your lips tight. suddenly, what interest you did have died a painful death and you turn back to the ladybug as your only comfort. unfortunately, that too is gone and you’re left with nothing but the ability to listen in on a conversation you want nothing to do with.

“aw, maggie. don’t worry, i’m still planning on it. you’ll get a very special and personal visit, just for you.”

“promise?”

you nearly choke, face scrunching up in disgust. you’re not five and can read between the very obvious lines. you feel the need to remind them that you are quite literally right there and swallow the green monster making a nice home in your heart. “i don’t mean to interrupt but i have to get home and get ready for dinner. do you want me to give you a ride, hobie, or are you good?”

you try to hide your disappointment before hobie can say anything. you can tell by his hesitation and expression what decision he’s going to make, glancing between both you and magnolia. he’s going to spend some quality time with her. “i think i’m good but you should get back. drive safe, okay? text me when you get home.”

“okay. then, i’ll see you later.” you rise to your feet and dig your hand into your purse, searching for the keys to your car. “bye magnolia. it was nice seeing you again.” her words of the returned gesture fall on deaf ears as you turn and head back to the parking lot. there’s a frown etched on your face and you dump the mostly-eaten popsicle into the trash.

it never crossed your mind that you’re not the only one who is looking forward to hobie back around. you’ve been so used to viewing yourself as the center of the universe that not once did you think about literally anyone else who has been involved in hobie’s past.

you pull the door open of your car and get inside, staring out of the windshield. you feel so teenage girl romcom movie but you don’t know what to do about it. one half of you wants to sob and rot in your bed and claim your heart is broken and the other part of you just wants to go home, eat dinner, and call maise.

you sit there like that for a few minutes before eventually turning on your car and starting the drive home. sza blares through the radio and is your only solace on your lonely drive home.

“no! and then she just shows up and takes him?” maise pulls out two small boxes of sour patch kids out of the plastic grocery bags on the counter. her eyes are wide and she’s hanging on to every part of your story.

it’s been about a week and a half since that time in the park with hobie and you’re still reveling in the emotions of it. you have yet to make a decision on how to conduct yourself around him and as a result, have begun to avoid him. you find it’s better not to be near him at all than to stand there and know that he wanted you to leave him so he could probably have mind blowing sex with his small-town fling.

“she just walks right over and he basically starts drooling.” you’re also unloading various snacks and a liter of soda from the grocery bags. tonight, you both plan to watch movies and eat junk food until your tummies are threatening to burst and you’re both ready to pass out from exhaustion. “i’m so stupid. i should have known. we weren’t even in the same crowd back then. why did i think anything would be different now?”

maise pities you just a bit. she sympathetically presses her lips into a pouty frown and reaches over the counter to grab your hand. “poor baby. in your defense, you have more of a southern belle, sweetest girl in town thing going for you and hobie is the exact opposite. it makes sense why he’d go for magnolia. you two have nothing in common and you’re virtually inexperienced.”

“i have experience!” you begin to pile the various snacks into the bin you brought down from your room just for the special occasion. “i have plenty of experience.”

“you had one situationship for half of your first year of college that treated you like shit. that’s not experience, babe. that’s trauma.”

you whip your head to give maise a pointed glare at bringing up what you’re trying so hard to forget. that chapter of your life is over and it died the moment the academic year ended. “okay but the point is, i am not a baby and i bet i could fuck just as good as she can. he just sees me as a little girl and i can never change that.”

“so what are you going to do?” your friend leans against the counter on the opposing side of you. she crosses her arms over her chest after adjusting her black leggings as they have risen above her ankles.

“nothing,” you say with a sigh. you grab the basket and hoist it onto your hips. “like i said, he sees me as a child. i’m just going to do what i’ve been doing, nothing. ignore him. just keep my distance until he goes home and forget all about him.”

what you don’t tell maise is that magnolia isn’t the only one. sometimes, the habits from your childhood return and you sit yourself at quentin’s door with your ear pressed up against the wood. you listen to his conversations with hobie, sometimes on the phone and sometimes in person, about his recent endeavors with the locals in town. so far, there has been at least one other girl since magnolia. whether he bounces between spending his nights with the two, you’re unsure and you don’t think you even want to know.

maise begins to open her mouth to say something but snaps it shut at the sound of the front door opening. there’s an irregular pattern that comes from two people coming through the door and for a moment, your face flashes with panic.

“i’m beginning to hate going out with you. every single time there’s always some girl ready to — oh hey.” quentin stops in the middle of his sentence as soon as he spots you standing in the kitchen. he jumps a bit, not having expected to see both you girls watching him walk into the house. “what are you doing here, maise?”

“we’re having a movie night.”she rises to standing and positions herself at your side.

“the sun is still out.” quentin lifts a finger to point to the window with the blinds open. sunlight streams through the trees of your backyard and reaches the living room.

“yeah. we just came back from the store and now we’re pregaming by talking shit.” she throws an arm around your shoulder, taking notice of your silence and lack of movement. it’s almost like you’re not breathing and it’s definitely because hobie is standing right there in all his glory, smiling right at you. maise using her grip on you to subtly nudge some sort of humanity back in you.

“anyway,” you clear your throat and take a sudden interest in reorganizing the bin of snacks, “we’re going to get going. we have a lot of girl stuff to talk about so see you later.” you take maise’s hand and take the lead in walking past the two and up the stairs of your house. you don’t miss the quizzical looks from both men at your hastiness to get out of being around them.

frankly, this isn’t the first time you’ve made a bolt to get out of being in the same room as them, but only when hobie is around. however, no one makes a move to question it and lets you do as you please. to quentin, it’s a sign you’re no longer hung up over his best friend and is far better than getting your hopes up for nothing. to hobie, you’re abhorrently avoiding him for some reason and he can’t stand it at all.

it makes him antsy, as if there’s some big impending doom coming that he won’t be able to stop. it makes him uncomfortable to see you get along so well with others and flee the moment he steps into the room and oddly enough, it’s only ever started happening since that one day. was it something he said or did? surely it can’t be because he didn’t accompany you back home. after all, you did text him to let him know you made it safely like he requested so he thought everything was fine. what is going on with you?

it’s somewhere between the hours of two and three am when you make the decision to trek downstairs for a cold glass of water. maise had fallen asleep on the left side of your bed a half hour ago and you had beaten her. you won by staying out longer than she did and decide to reward yourself with a neutral drink to wash the syrupy taste out your mouth.

the house feels awfully cold during such hours of the night and you regret leaving the warmth of your room in your oversized shirt and little pink shorts. both of your parents came home hours ago, wished you a fun night and retired to their beds in preparation for work the next day. you’re assuming no one else is awake with the only other options being quentin and hobie, if hobie is even here.

you sniff and rub your hands along your arms as you round the corner and enter the catch. in the darkness of night and with your squinting eyes, you use what spatial awareness you have to guide your way to the glasses in the cabinet.

you just manage to wrap your fingers around it before there’s some sort of shuffling behind you. you’re unnerved, almost dropping the glass in the time it takes you to look over your shoulder at the perpetrator. “hello?” you try to make out the form in the dark and find purchase in the knife drawer in front of you.

“it’s just me.” the voice is gruff and familiar and washes over you like a relaxing wave of warm water. “sorry, i wasn’t trying to scare you.”

“hobie?” you lean towards him to make out his figure in the shadows. the moonlight does little to aid in visibility. there is only a pale light struggling to come through the window. you have to reach over and turn on the stove light just to see him since your eyes have yet to adjust. “i thought you went home?”

“i did. i went to see my parents and it went just about as well as i thought.” hobie takes a seat at the bar stools behind the aisle. he seems strained, running his hand over his face with a sigh. “so i came back because i like it here more.”

“why didn’t you just go to your own house?” you feel a little underdressed in your attire all of the sudden. sure, you are preparing to go to sleep and in the comfort of your own house but you’d hate to give off the impression that you’re walking around without pants on.

“because i like it here more. pretty sure i said that,” now he’s rubbing his eyes, sitting up to lean against the back of the chair. “if you’re getting a glass of water, can you get me one too?” hobie’s lips turn up into a small, sad smile. his eyes look tired, worn out from whatever went down at his parents’ house.

you forgot all about the glass in your hand, looking down at it as if it’s appeared from the ether. “oh, you can just have mine. i’m probably going to go back to bed.” you’re still dead set on ignoring hobie. for one,  it makes it so much easier to get used to the feeling of disappointment that he doesn’t see you when you literally don’t have to see him. not to mention, it’s difficult enough to look him in his eyes but to be alone with him and look him in the eyes? you have to go.

you set the glass down on the island and slide it over to him, prepared to take a quick and silent walk back to the safety of your room and your best friend asleep on your bed. “goodnight, hobie.”

you don’t make it very far before hobie is speaking to you, again. his gaze is following your attempt at escaping him and it’s annoying him that this is probably the thousandth time you’ve evaded him. “what is up with you? i’m clearly going through something and would benefit from talking about it with someone. i literally just left your house and showed up again and you’re not even going to ask me how i got in?”

you try to not huff when you turn to face him with an eyebrow quirked. “what are you talking about?” you clench your hands into small fists, only to flex them and release what tension you carry.

“what am i talking about? you speak like, five words to me now. i don’t know what i did to make this happen and i’m sorry but you’re literally avoiding me. you came down here for what, a glass of water? you gave me yours before you even got one and now you’re going back upstairs so you don’t have to talk to me. what did i do?”

you shake your head at his words. he’s not wrong. you have been avoiding him and looking for any way out not to speak or be around him more than you need to. still, hobie doesn’t have to bring it up. he shouldn't have brought it up. what are you going to do now? “i still don’t know what you’re talking about. i haven’t done anything to avoid you. i just don’t want water anymore and i want to go back to sleep.”

hobie presses his lips together. he’s doing his best not to stare at you with hardened eyes so he turns away, looking at the countertop instead. his frustration is palpable but he’s sensible enough to restrain himself, to keep himself from turning it into an argument. “okay, go to sleep then. goodnight.” he taps his nails against the side of the glass, listening to the little plinks ro distract himself from the unrest in his soul.

you stand there, staring at the back of hobie’s head even though he’s dismissed you. you’re free to go with no repercussions but the guilt from doing so while knowing he wanted to talk about whatever is plaguing him is too much to handle. “oh my god, fine. what is it? what happened at your parents'?”

your feet drag all the way towards the island and you sit on the bench beside him. you rest your hands in your lap and stare at the numbers reading back the time on the stove. they’re green and a great source of something to look at that isn’t hobie.

“no, it’s okay. you don’t want to hear about my problems because it’s such an inconvenience to you. i’m just going to sit here and mope, maybe cry, and go home.”

“don’t piss me off.” you tsk, picking a strand of string off your shirt. your eyes cut to him in a sideways glare, urging him to talk and quickly before you change your mind. “what’s wrong? what happened?”

hobie pokes his cheek with his tongue. he stares at the ceiling before slowly closing his eyes. “i dunno, man. it was so bad. they think i’m a disappointment or somethin’. it’s written all over their faces.”

“that’s not true. they probably were just overwhelmed that you came home.” you do your best to reassure him but even you know that’s probably a lie. hobie’s parents disapprove of him, everyone knows it. they’re embarrassed their only son turned out to be some sort of punk neanderthal and actively denounce him in public.

“don’t kid yourself, dove. my parents hate me and you know it. we all know it. i went over and they practically screamed it in my face. we had dinner for five seconds and got into a screamin’ match about how i let everyone down by runnin’ wild in the streets.” he’s squinting now. “when have i ever run wild in the streets?”

you can only shrug, unable to give him a response. you don’t know what to say to him. there is no denying what he experienced. all you can do is listen and shrug. “i’m sorry about that. you’re not a disappointment. they just can’t understand why they like it here so much and why you don’t. that can’t be easy to understand.”

“yeah well, i’ll get over it. i’ll just stay away from them and they can stay away from me and we can all pretend we aren’t related.” hobie doesn’t sound bitter, he sounds defeated. he sounds like he’s been down this road many times before and expected an outcome no different than before. however, it’s only natural for a child to wish for their parents to understand them. “anyway . . .,” his head lolls to the side until he’s looking at you, staring at you, “why are you avoiding’ me?”

your lips curl into themselves and you feel the need to excuse yourself. “i’m not avoiding you. if you’re done with your rant, i’m going to go to sleep now.” you go to rise to your feet but your attempt is short-lived when hobie catches you with his hands on your shoulders.

“yes, you are. look. you’re trying to do it right now. you’re tryin’ to leave because i’m confrontin’ you about it. i’m not going to stop pressin’ you about it until you tell me.”

one look in his eyes and you can tell he’s serious. hobie has caught you alone in the dead of night. he’s got you face-to-face and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it but lie or tell the truth, neither of which would work here.

“i’m not avoiding you, hobie. i just –,” you avert your gaze until you’re looking at literally anything else, “– i just think it’s best if we keep a distance and remain cordial. we don’t have to be friends because you're friends with quentin. you don’t have to feel like you have to be friends with me.”

“what?” the man lets you go. his arms drop back into his lap and he’s looking at you as if you’ve just proclaimed your undying love for present day denzel washington. “where is this coming from? you’ve always been a friend of mine. we grew up together. just because i’m closer to quentin doesn’t mean we aren’t close at all.”

you rack your brain to find a way around the real reason by cherry picking the words until they form a sentence that makes sense. “well, yes but i’m not like you. i don’t think there’s anything you – i just – we aren’t the same. we’re in very different crowds and i don’t want you to force yourself to get along with me.”

“okay, we’re in different crowds. what’s that supposed to mean? i’m friends with you because you are different from me. if i didn’t want to be around you or anyone who isn’t the exact same as me, i wouldn’t have come home. you’ve never been insecure about our friendship before so what’s going on?”

you’ve just about reached the end of the line. you’re frazzled and unable to keep pumping out excuses. he’s just going to disprove every single one and deny you a reason to run away. he doesn’t get it and he won’t get it. there’s only one option left to do. every ounce of your soul is screaming at you not to, already burning from the humiliation but as far as you’re concerned, you have no other option. “you don’t get it. jeez, hobie, you’re so stupid. obviously, i’m avoiding you because i have feelings for you and you don’t feel the same. i don’t want to be around you when i know you’re just going to go out and fuck every girl in town.”

your little spiel is followed by silence. while what weight was lifted off your chest, your hands are beginning to sweat from the anxiousness. still, you’ve already said it and you can’t back down so you sit firm in your decision. your eyes still begin to water from the overwhelming emotion that comes with speaking your mind like that and being met with absolutely nothing.

finally, hobie tilts his head. “fuck every girl in town? what are you talking about? is that what people are saying about me?”

you burst into tears, partly because you took that as rejection and partly because you think he doesn’t care. he just brushed off everything you said to talk about his sexual endeavors. “you’re so mean. you’re so mean and you hate me and you want me to die,” you blubber through a watery gargle. your hands are unable to keep up with the tears that stream down your face. by the time you brush one away, there’s another one that takes its place.

“oh my god.” hobie’s eyes widened in shock at your immediate reaction. it happened faster than he can blink and he’s terrified that someone is going to wake up, find you crying, and blame it all on him. “why are you crying?” he pulls you into an embrace, tucking your head beneath his chin and into his chest. despite what many would think, his skin is awfully warm to the touch and it would have been comforting if he didn’t stomp on your heart.

“because i just spilled my deepest, darkest secret to you and you don’t care. you’re bragging about how many times you got laid instead of having human emotions.” you only sob louder as he runs his fingers along your spine in what’s supposed to be a soothing manner.

“i’m not bragging about anything. i haven’t even fucked anyone since i’ve been here. where are you getting your information from?” hobie can’t decide whether or not he’s concerned or humored. he lifts your head, but only briefly, to wipe the tears on your cheeks. the moment he sees your lip tremble, he allows you to go back into the comfort of hiding against him.

“i don’t have to get my information from someone. i just know. you literally left me for magnolia and i know that you’ve been seeing some other girl. plus, quen was saying something about every girl and you when you walked in.” your words are muffled in his shirt. you feel a little guilty because of how wet it is but then you think about how hobie wronged you and wish you soaked it with your sobs.

“okay, first of all, i did not fuck magnolia. i’d have to bash my head with a brick to consider doing that. second of all, i’m not seeing anyone. i’m trying to get a temporary job while i’m still here and i have to suck up to the manager because she doesn’t like me. and why is it my fault that people like me? i can’t stop them from liking me and i can’t stop someone else from talking about it. you’ve misunderstood every single thing and now you’re yelling at me.”

you sniffle and tilt your head up. there is suspicion and doubt written all over your face. “so if you don’t like magnolia like that, then why were you looking at her like that? like you were thinking about taking her clothes off.”

hobie reels his head back, giving you a similar mystified expression. “girl, what are you talking about? if i was looking at her any sort of way it was probably because she was standing in front of the actual sun and I couldn't see. i wear contacts and i forgot to put them in. you know i wear contacts so now i’m confused.”

for a moment, you don’t say anything. you sit there and replay his explanations over and over again, searching for any holes in his story. you slowly run your tongue over your lip as the embarrassment slowly sets in. he’s right, he does wear contacts. he got them senior year of high school and you suppose you just forgot. you forgot and cried and went on him for no reason.

hobie watches you come to the realization. he can tell it’s dawning on you when your face relaxes and forms into one of mortification. this is where he decides it’s humorous to him. it’s even more hilarious when he adds the cherry on top. “and your deepest, darkest secret? i already knew. it’s not really a secret if everyone knows.”

that brings you an entire new wave of waterworks but instead, they build and build in your waterline until they eventually spill over in an occasional spill. “so you knew this whole time and let me embarrass myself? and you’re rejecting me?”

hobie reaches off and tears a paper towel square off the roll. he shakes his head, bending the square into a smaller one. he uses it to dab your cheek with a tut of his tongue. “you have to stop crying. i can’t talk to you when you’re refusing to listen to me. at least cry silently or ask questions that i can actually answer.”

“no,” you take the square from his fingers. really, you snatch it and use it to clean your dribbling nose. “i’m so mad at you. i don’t want to talk anymore.” you take this chance to get off the bar stool and move towards the trash can. you’re still sniffling and occasionally gasping for air while you clean yourself up. “you knew this entire time and didn’t say anything? i’d rather you turn me down from the beginning than give me this false sense of security. you led me on.”

“no. no, i didn’t.” hobie watches you rinse your face with water. hearing his denial just makes you angrier.

“yes you did. you knew and you said nothing.”

“no i did not. you didn’t even ask me –”

“i don’t have to ask you because i already know. you’re the worst person alive and you only care about yourself –”

“ ☆ , listen. you’ve been assuming things for weeks and look where that got you. just, stop talking and let me speak, please.” his firm tone knocks any thought out of your brain and gets you to tighten up, real quick.

you look over your shoulder, not yet ready to look at him but finally ready to accept that you just might be wrong. you lift the neckline of your shirt over your face and use it as a method to dry it.

“in order for me to have led you on, you’d have to actually confess your feelings to me. at what point do you think i should have just walked up to you and say ‘hey, i know you have feelings for me that you aren’t ready to talk about yet but i just wanted to let you know that i’m not interested’? why do you assume that i don’t feel anything towards you, anyway? maybe i do but i don’t say anything because i know it’s not going to work. let’s think about it, i rarely ever come into town. you love town. at what point would i ever come along and see you?”

“you would get your ass on your bike and drive here like you did this time,” you mumble under your breath. you stand by the sink for a moment to gather your thoughts. you’re gaining clarity through the fog but now you’re drained. you’re tired and you don’t have the energy to feel displeased over whatever he has to say. it doesn’t matter what he has to say because in the end, it’s all going to be a no. “but whatever you say. we don’t work, okay. you’re leaving soon, okay. if that’s all, i’d like to go to bed now.”

“are you mad at me?” he asks from behind you, softly. he almost purrs it and it tugs at your will. you want so badly to let him in but he doesn’t want that and so you must persevere.

you shake your head with a breath. “no. i’m not mad at you. you’re entitled to your own opinion.” you put on the blankest expression you can manage and turn to face him. you cross your arms over your chest and manage to maintain what little composure you have.

he quips a brow at you, obviously not believing your claim and even more so when you don’t say anything to confirm it. “come here for a second.”

you shift your weight until your weight is all on your right side and your hip is popped. “hobie . . .”

“just for a second,” he outstretched his hand as an offer for you.

reluctantly, you take it and give no resistance when hobie pulls you into his personal space. his hands find your cheeks and squish them together until your lips are forced into a pout. “be honest with me, baby. are you mad at me?”

he doesn’t act surprised when you pause before nodding in response. “are you still going to be mad at me if i kiss you?”

hobie watches the thought go through your mind. you consider it and the consequences that come with it. it’s going to be a meaningless kiss because hobie has drawn the line. he can’t be attached to anything from this town and you know that. still, it’s an incredible opportunity to just pass up because of morality.

you shake your head.

hobie’s lips are soft against yours. there’s a subtly sweet taste but it’s possible you’re high off  oxytocin. again, you clench your hands into fists but this time it’s to restrain yourself from holding onto him and pulling him tighter. you have to keep reminding yourself that it’s a meaningless kiss.

it’s even harder to maintain that thought when hobie’s mouth fits so perfectly against yours. he doesn’t move his hands from your cheeks but the kiss grows heated, regardless. his tongue, wet and warm, runs over the expanse of your bottom lip before worming its way into your mouth.

you mewl when it finds yours and sucks. you have to tuck your hands behind your back to hold onto your composure. your feet betray you, though, by bringing you even closer into him and in turn, into his lips.

“are you done cryin’?” he kisses the corner of your mouth and jumps to the skin along your jawline. like before, he kisses and sucks the trail of skin from there to your neck. “because it wouldn’t be right if i just left you here.”

you squirm in your spot and do your best to conceal the whines that threaten to bubble up out of your throat. “hobie, you said – you –” you finally rested your hands on the tops of his thighs. the voice in the back of your head telling you to give in is getting more and more convincing with each passing second.

“what did i say?” he pauses his ministrations to catch his breath and give you a second to find yours. he isn’t sure how the conversation took this turn but he isn’t complaining. if anything, he’s hoping it’ll never end.

you stare at him in the yellow light from the stove. there’s still a chill in the air but you’re buzzed with need. suddenly, you’re hot. it’s sweltering even without the heat being on. you need to find a solution to your lust and quick. you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him back into you, deciding the solution right there in the moment.

your lips crash against each other with a burning passion. hobie stands up out of the bar stool, his hands circling around your waist. he takes steps forward and forces you back against the counter across from you. you don’t mind, entangling your hands within his scalp. you’re willing to let him do whatever he wants to you and it shows.

hobie turns you around and presses his hardening cock against the plumpness of your ass. you gasp at the feeling of him rutting against you with his breath fanning over your shoulder, warm and sticky. there’s something that takes over, a horny little monster that throws all your inhibitions out the window. you’re equally as turned on, rolling your hips back on his in tandem with him.

“fuck, okay. don’t get too loud.” he whispers under the sound of the fabrics moving together. out of he corner of your eye, you barely get a glimpse of him shoving his fingers in his mouth before sliding underneath your clothing. he pulls your shirt up in a balled up fist and watches his hand disappear beneath the waistband of your shorts and elastic of your panties.

they waste no time finding your clit, sticky and growing swollen from your insatiable desire. “already so fuckin’ wet.” he rubs the nub in little circles, growing accustomed to your body and what you like most. occasionally, his fingers slip and unintentionally fall too close to your entrance.

your mouth falls open in a tiny “o”. you throw your head back onto his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut and grinding against both his dick and his fingers. you’re sandwiched between pleasure and doing your best to keep your moans limited to a whisper. you grip the edge of the counter and you’re actually grateful for it. it’s the solace that’s keeping you grounded to reality because without it, you’re sure you would have soared to the sky. “d – don’t tease,” you pant. you reach behind you searching for hobie’s dick and you find it easily. it’s hard to miss with the hard feeling of it against your skin and you swear you feel it grow harder when you wrap your fingers around it, still clothed over his sweats.

“sorry, dove. whatever you want,” hobie flattens his palm against your pussy. his middle finger prod at your sticky entrance to test your reaction but it slips right in, much to your pleasure. he has to take it slow with your sensitivity but hobie savors every moment. he’s not in a rush, especially when your fingers squeeze and rub at his clothed cock. he’s ready to stick it in now if he truly wanted but hobie wants this moment to last. he wants to burn the memory into his head and stain his life with whatever effects you have on him.

“mmm,” you hum, spreading your legs farther to accommodate his size. just one of his fingers could make you feel so full that you’re nearly satisfied like this. you have to close your lips and run your tongue along the inside of your cheeks to wet them again. “that feels so good.”

“yeah?” hobie asks. he’s so focused on you, he doesn’t notice how you’ve also managed to get your hand under the waistband of his boxers. he only realized what’s happening when your hand brushes against the stubble of his pubes and wraps around his shaft. “oh baby,” he whines in your ear. you can feel his dick twitch and jump at the tightness of your palm. he nearly falls over your frame when your thumb begins to circle around his tip.

hobie’s fingers stutter inside you. they push farther, deeper, making contact with your g-spot accidentally. he hasn’t gotten a chance to stick another finger in before you’re whimpering and nearly finger fucking yourself with his hand. “oh my gosh, right there. right there, right there!”

if hobie could have laughed at you, he would have. however, he has better things to worry about. like how your voice is beginning to rise in volume and he just cannot have that happen. “shhh,” is all he can manage throughout his full-body shudders. he uses his other hand to drop your shirt and instead stick his fingers in your mouth. they serve the purpose he intended, muffling your noises. he didn’t anticipate for you to suckle on them as if it’s the last thing you’d ever have in your mouth.

that, paired with the handjob and your gushing pussy around his fingers, he could have came right then and there. he could have exploded in his pants and made you cum and end it there but he didn’t. instead, he forces himself to pay attention to you. he puts his pleasure on the back burner and pushes his finger deeper, even going as far as to stretch you farther by adding a second one.

with his fingers deep in your throat and drool pouring out the corner of your mouth, your legs begin to shake. your chest rises and falls with each heaved breath. if you weren’t forced into somewhat silence, you’re sure you would have been calling out hobie’s name, drunk of him and him alone.

he has no idea what words you’re gurgling but unless you’re chanting about how you’re on the verge of cumming, he doesn’t care. luckily for him, it’s almost certain that you were and it’s evident with how your body falls slack in his arms and your cunt spasms around his fingers. the sight is an ultimate turn on.

hobie pulls his fingers out of your mouth and wipes the saliva over your cheek. he takes the opportunity to yank your bottoms down until they’re confined to your ankles. you step out of them and turn around, reconnecting your lips with his.

once again, you’re kissing hobie as an act of hunger, pushing your lips so hard together that they nearly swell. you cup the back of his head to draw him in. you’re delighted to feel his hands on the globes on your cheeks and set you onto the counter. it’s cold on your skin and so you flinch but it becomes a faint thought when hobie’s hands are anchored on the backs of your thighs. he pushes them back until your feet are flat on the counter and your glistening pussy is all on display, still creamy from your recent orgasm.

“just gotta get a taste,” he mumbles, mostly to himself as he eyes the shining cunt open and throbbing for him. he wastes no time wrapping his lips around your puffy clit, slurping at your slick. he enjoys the sapidity that’s unique to you, tangy and a bit sweet, like a refreshing dessert he could eat for the rest of his life.

he can feel the juices drip down his chin and coat the lower half of his face but that doesn’t stop him from eating your pussy like a starved man. you have to bring a hand up to your mouth to muffle the moans, watching the hobie lick between your folds and lap at your clit. your eyes are ready to roll back when hobie’s tongue pokes at your entrance. you want so badly to scream, to pull hobie’s head even closer to your aching pussy but you can’t. you can’t risk moving your hand off your mouth, knowing that the moment you do, you’ll wake up the whole house.

you compromise by using your other hand to support your weight and shift toward, putting yourself a little more onto your toes. in this new position, you’re able to move your cunt along his face. you push farther, going as far as to brush your clit along hobie’s nose.

his response is to tug your body to the edge of the counter and wrap your legs over his shoulders. your lower body is solely held up by him, his shoulder, and his hands. he swallows every ounce of your slick and sears your clit with a kiss.

it doesn’t take long before you’re finding yourself closer to the edge of a second orgasm. you ball your shirt up and shove the jumbled mess into your own mouth. your brain is foggy. you can’t think of a single thought that isn’t full of hobie, the pleasure, and the need to cum, immediately. 

“mmmf,” you wrap your legs around his neck. dig your fingers into his hair, and tug just in time for another gush of cum to come flowing out of your pussy. every muscle in your body has relaxed and become putty by now. you’re at hobie’s disposal and you love that.

“you’re so perfect, i’m devastated.” he kisses your inner thigh, continuing to trail those kisses up your stomach, between your tits, and onto your lips. he doesn’t wipe the cum off his face as he does it. instead, he makes you taste it, wrapping his tongue around yours and wetting your cheeks with the stickiness as your arousal as he does it.

“no you’re not. you won’t stay for me.” you whisper between kisses, running your hands along his bare chest under his shirt. you grab the hem and pull it up until hobie inevitably allows you to pull it off. it’s discarded and tossed onto the floor.

“i won’t stay for anyone. you know this.” he disconnects from the kiss, but only for a moment. during this time, he drops his pants to pull out his cock, raging from watching you cum not once, but twice. in the darkness, you can make out an outline of it, long and skinny with a mushroom tip and bulging veins. he’s been straining this whole time but hadn’t complained at all, loving every second of pleasing you. he could do it for hours if he had the time.

you resort to pouting as hobie sets your feet back onto the ground. with his hands on his hips, he turns you back around until your back is pressed against his chest, once again. “just say you hate me.”

“keep saying that and i’ll shove my dick in your mouth.” he says, aligning his tip with his sticky entrance. you don’t mention how his threat holds no weight if you’d enjoy it. instead, you play into it and huff, resting your hands flat on the counter.

you brace yourself when hobie begins to push deep into you. the stretch is painful at first, enough that you have to grit your teeth and will yourself to relax through the shallow thrusts to ease his way into you. it only takes a few seconds before the pain is blooming into satisfaction.

he fits so well inside you, filling you as if he was created solely for this purpose. you reach up, resting your hand on his cheek for a source of intimacy in the slow thrusts. you use the leverage of the counter to push your ass back to meet his thrusts.

you don’t know how much willpower you have to continue standing on your own when hobie is doing such a good job of fucking you dumb. even with the slow pace, you have to give in, leaning over the counter. to hobie, this is leverage for him to take control of the situation. he slots a large hand over your mouth and the other rests on the small of your back.

almost instantly, his thrusts increase tenfold. you’re certain if this was done on a bed, it would have been rocking with such an intensity against the wall. you grasp his hand covering your mouth with yours, almost screaming into his hand.

“shh, you’ll w – wake someone u – up.” he leans over you. hobie doesn’t compensate for the sound of skin slapping against each other by speaking louder. instead, he gets closer to you and because of that, angles his dick deeper into your cunt.

in this new state, you can hear every soft moan and whimper that leaves his mouth. he’s not rough about it, almost singing in your ear. his breath feels moist on your skin and adds to the fire burning in your core. “just t – take it, baby.”

you almost sob, rising onto your toes and writhe underneath him. it didn’t occur to you that you’d be overstimulated by the time you’ve reached this point. as much of your fault as it is, you like to blame most of it on hobie for pushing it this far. you wouldn’t be tempted to push him away, feeling as though he would be forcing another one out of you, if he didn’t.

you’re still, almost stuck in place. he’s too good at delivering. your body craves more and less of him at the same time. you’re certain you can feel him in your throat, ready to pop out the other side and through your mouth if this continues long enough. it’s driving you crazy, so crazy you squeeze your legs together.

it doesn’t last long because coincidentally, hobie hooks his hand under your leg and pushes it onto the counter. your cunt squelches as it swallows his size greedily. he’s obsessed with watching his length disappear inside you and the white sheen that surrounds the base. “shit, you’re gettin’ tight. gonna make me cum.”

you can only wail at his words and press your forehead against the granite. your legs have begun to quiver for the second time that night and you’re almost certain your insides are about to explode. you’re unsure what is building up inside you but it’s drawing from somewhere deep in the pits of your stomach and you’re getting nervous. there’s not much you can do about it, nor can you think about it too much because hobie’s fingers are rolling your clit between them.

the bud is all swollen and practically hot to the touch. you’re dripping down your own thighs at this point. there’s a musk that accompanies sex in the air, thick and sending you into a daze. your eyes flutter closed before they roll back. you let loose, weak streams of squirt falling into the floor beneath you.

“holy fuckin’ shit,” hobie pulls out of you so fast, you whine and crumple onto the floor. he, as the kind gentleman he is, don’t force your weak body to move positions again. instead, he steps to your side and turns your head with a hand under your chin. “open your mouth for me. atta’ girl.”

you watch him through half lidded eyes jerk his swollen cock in front of your face until he’s spurting cum all over it. your tongue dangles open and catches what remnants dribble downwards into your mouth.

hobie’s equally sensitive body stands there for a moment to catch his breath. he slowly lowers himself onto the ground until he’s able to run his thumb over your cum-covered face to collect some of it on the pad of his finger and swipe it over your tongue. “how do you feel? want water or something?”

you wordlessly shake your head and crawl into his arms, despite the fact that your face is ultimately covered in his nut. you don’t mention that what you really want to know is what happens now. “just want to shower and sleep.”

he looks at you, half asleep against him, and then around the kitchen and the few pieces of evidence left behind. for one, the scent has got to go. “i’ll get you into the bath and i’ll handle the cleanup, okay? you just rest your pretty little head.”

you’ve already beat him to it, humming in response and envisioning the comfort of your queen sized bed. if you considered things awkward before, just what until you see how you try to navigate it in the morning.

[mattsfootcramp]

About me

Music:

sza

olivia rodrigo

sabrina carpenter

melanie martinez

☆ミ

Foods

Ravioli

Garlic Bread

spaghetti

Pizza

dilfs!!

☆ミ

movies

Sandlot

Benchwarmers

Scream

Saw

It (2017)

Ratatouille

Beauty and the Beast

Princess and the frog

☆ミ

drinks

pepsi

dr pepper

rootbeer

ice tea

sweet tea

>゜))))彡

Rules

Hate comments or negative comments = block

NEVER write for nick x female

drama of any sort not tolerated

dont hate my writing. don't like it? don't read it.

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Who I will write for

Sturniolo Triplets

Tara Yummy

Jake webber

Carington

Johnnie

Madison Beer

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"Always the bridesmaid, never the bride"

-Corpse Bride 🦋

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Taglist

Masterlist

☆ミ ☆-smut ¤-Angst ♡-fluff☆ミ

Matthew☆ミ Sturniolo

'Autumn'- ☆♡

P!links 1-☆

'Birthday sex'-☆

Christopher☆ミ Sturniolo

P!links 1-☆

P!links 2-☆

Nicolas☆ミ Sturniolo

Nothing yet...

[earth616variant]

the send-off | s.r ; 4

summary | Being his best friend and assistant, Howard Stark asked you to be the first one to be tested on his time machine project. After some unexpected errors, you ended up stuck in the modern times of the 21st century. Where you meet the man you thought died years ago: Steve Rogers.

pairing/s | steve rogers x reader, avengers x reader

word count | 5k+

genres | angst, fluff, crack, time travel au, unrequited love au

warnings | mention of blood, idiots…

note | after months, here's a new update! finally found the inspiration to write again :)) I apologize for the long delay. anyway, let me know your thoughts on this one. enjoy reading!

series masterlist

 “Ugh… What to do? What to do?” you hummed.

It’s been days since your arrival in this era. And so far, everything is fine. Confusing but fine. You were still having nightmares that always woke you up. But you didn’t bother to tell anyone about it. It’s probably a normal reaction.

Since the superheroes in the compound have alternative schedules for their missions, you found yourself rubbing shoulders with whoever Avenger is in the compound. It’s obvious that they don’t want you to feel excluded and made it clear that they don’t mind you asking questions if you find something puzzling. 

You usually bond with the youngest one, Peter Parker, who is always around since he is, based on what he said, “a friendly neighborhood superhero”. It means that he doesn’t go out of the country, like Natasha or Steve, or even this state for a mission since he still has classes to attend and he explains that his aunt won’t let him go anywhere far and dangerous. Understandable, you thought. The kid is only sixteen. But for now, Peter is staying back with his aunt in their apartment while the others are on their missions. He has a schedule for staying between the compound and his aunt’s place. 

Clint is with his family, who you heard lived in this secret farmhouse. Tony is probably home too. You don’t really know. You kind of feel that he avoids being alone with you. Wanda is resting in her room. You don’t want to disturb her as you saw her coming home earlier, looking really exhausted. 

When he can, Steve also kept you company. Of course, you enjoyed talking to him about his life after the whole defrosting thing. But sometimes, you felt like a disturbance or a burden in his free time. You thought, maybe he just wants to rest. Perhaps he just feels bad for you. So, you try to not stay around him all the time if he’s home.

So, you really have nothing to do. You have books but you don’t feel like reading now. You have this novel that you liked so much, you just finished it today. The compound also has this large, flat television but you don’t feel like watching anything either. It’s not like you’re not used to being alone. You’re always alone before! But at least you have a job to take up all your time. With all this free time, you cannot help but miss doing something in the laboratory. Computing numbers or testing prototypes with Howard. You wondered if your best friend ever finished that flying car he kept on re-working. You figured, maybe not. You see that people in this modern time still use four-wheeled cars.

“Oh, hey, Doctor Y/N.”

Sometime in the afternoon, Bruce Banner went out to the kitchen to get himself something to drink. That is where he sees you, looking all bored and spacing out. You forced a smile at him and greeted him back,

“Hello, Doctor Banner.”

“Bruce. You can call me Bruce.” he smiled as he opened a can of rootbeer.

“Then, you can call me just by my name too,” you replied, tapping on the hardbound book you had with you. You tried not to be obvious as you examined his look. With his eyeglasses and white coat, you know he’s been working in his laboratory. 

After taking a sip from his drink, he spoke, “What are you up to in here, Y/N?”

Hearing that question, you instantly sighed heavily, making your shoulder slump, “Nothing really. I’ve been watching the paint dry, Bruce.”

Thankfully, the scientist caught on to your use of words. He chuckled before asking you, “Do you want to go to the lab?”

You swore you jumped from where you were sitting when Bruce said that. He took it as a yes and you two walked together back to his laboratory. Instantly, you were in awe of the place. There are screens and machinery everywhere. You don’t understand how these new gadgets work but you cannot wait to hear about them. This is like something you dreamed of.

“Here.”

Bruce handed you a white lab coat and you immediately grabbed it, wearing it excitedly. Damn, you missed wearing it. You stood next to him in front of his messy desk, which is pretty normal. Notes were everywhere. Even pens and crumpled papers. You’re starting to miss your own messy work table.

“Oh, I’m sorry about that,” Bruce spoke, referencing his desk.

You smiled, “It’s fine. It means you’re really working hard for something.”

Slipping your hands into the coat’s pockets, you wander around the spacious lab. You try to stop yourself from touching anything, fearing that you might mess something up. So like a little kid, your eyes just show your enthusiasm as you watch some type of liquid flow into a transparent tube.

“What are you working on?” you asked, turning your head to Bruce.

“Something that can help the world, hopefully.” he chuckled. He walked next to you, “It’s a serum that may help cancer patients.”

“That’s nice,” you whispered, eyes still distracted.

“Yeah. But it’s still an experiment. This is the first time I’m working on something like this again after I tried to recreate the super soldier serum.”

Your eyebrows raised as you looked at him, “You tried to recreate that serum?!”

Steve did not tell you about that. No one told you that someone in the compound tried to recreate it. You always wondered what Dr. Ernskine did to that serum since it seems very impossible to reproduce. But now that you’re in this modern era, people have more resources and findings. Maybe Bruce succeed.

Bruce stared back at you with a small smile, “It’s what brought me here, Y/N.”

“Cap. You okay?” 

Tony asked as soon as he made sure the auto-pilot was set on the plane. Instead of answering, Steve grunts while pressing a hand on the right side of his stomach. Blood was gushing out from the stab wound he got from this mission. Bucky, on the other hand, also earned bruises on his face and small cuts on his arm. The two admittedly underestimated this mission. They didn’t expect that a hundred members will show up in this cult-like mob they raided. Thankfully, Tony was able to answer an emergency call.

“Those guys really got you cornered. Whoever stabbed you would probably brag about the fact he got to stab Captain America. Too bad he died.” Tony quipped, trying to lighten the mood. He signaled to Bucky to pass him a bandage.

Steve listened with exhaustion running in his veins. He breathed out as he closed his eyes, leaning his head on the surface behind him.

“You know, you got to be more careful now…” Tony suddenly spoke, sounding a bit serious. Steve opened his eyes and look at his friend who was focused on cleaning his wound. It took minutes of silence– since Tony made sure that his wound won’t get infected– before he continued,  “You have a girlfriend waiting at home.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, Tony,” Steve replied sternly.

His best friend still managed to chuckle at that. Steve groaned when Tony slightly applied pressure to his wound. Not that Steve doesn’t like the idea of you as his romantic partner, he just doesn’t want to tolerate this kind of teasing from his friends. They might get used to it and make you uncomfortable whenever you’re with him.

Tony rolled his eyes, “Okay, whatever. But my point is you are Y/N’s closest friend in the compound right now and I don’t think she will like seeing you come back like this. I mean, you already died before and Dad told me a lot of things that happened.”

Steve tilted his head quizzically. He looked at Bucky who shared the same expression on his face.

“What–”

“There.” Tony got up as if he didn’t just say something. He pointed at Bucky. “And you too, buddy. Bring more backup next time. Something worse could have happened. You’re lucky I’m just another country away for a presentation.”

He walked back to his seat as the pilot, ignoring the confusion and curiosity from the two a-decade-old super soldiers.

“That was your last memory?”

Bruce sat in front of you, typing on his laptop as you nodded an answer. A couple of hours after inviting you, you two ended up just chatting in his laboratory. Bruce told you about the time he recreated the supersoldier serum. You learned his history and how he joined this league of superhumans. He was open to sharing his struggle in accepting his power and learning to control himself from being Bruce and the Hulk.

After that, he ended up giving you a tour of his laboratory. You would share how a gadget you had before evolved into what he has now in these modern times. Your curiosity about these said gadgets made his offer to teach you whenever he can and you happily agreed. Although you’re still unsure if you’re staying here for the rest of your life, you think that it will be good to adapt in the meantime.

“The time machine…” your voice trailed off as you brought up the topic. “How did you and Tony make it?”

You’ve been wanting to ask someone about their version of a time machine here. But since Howard’s son was a bit distant, you get to talk about it with Bruce now.

Bruce shakes his head, “It was unsuccessful.”

“It brought me here.” you countered, pursing your lips.

The air around you two was suddenly all serious and Bruce feels it. You were just wondering how they built their time machine. How did they make it work? It was seemingly more successful than Howard’s. Was it because of the current and upgraded technologies? Did they use different formulas than Howard? Did they make their own original version that was way different than what you and your best friend worked on in the past?

 

Bruce looked at you for seconds like he was contemplating if he should tell you. Then, he exhaled, removing his glasses.

“Tony brought the blueprint and basically the whole plan for it months ago. He said he found it when he was digging up in his dad’s office in their old house.”

“Wait.” your eyebrows scrunched together as you paused. You take your time processing his answer. You made sure you understood it by saying, “So… it was originally Howard’s… The blueprint for it?”

He nods, “Yes, Tony found it along with other plans his dad never worked on. We just used other materials than the outdated ones...”

You didn’t really listen to the rest of his words when you heard the first sentence. Your eyes stared at some space. Never worked on? He means, Howard made this plan and never worked on it? Does it mean that if your best friend just worked it, you could have been back earlier than this era? Your hand slowly pressed a hand on your chest and you felt your heartbeat getting quicker Bruce quickly noticed it and you looked up at him with your eyes screaming in confusion and surprise, hurt.

“When did Howard plan it?” you asked. Your voice was weak and you almost said it in a whisper.

Although confused, Bruce replied, “1977. It was written on the bottom of the blueprint.”

Your brain was quick in computing it. It was thirty years after your disappearance. You feel like shaking as you blinked away the tears that were blurring your sight.

“W-Where can I find this blueprint? I want to see it.”

The change in your tone and expression made Bruce ask, “Y/N, are you okay–”

“Where?” you asked again instead of answering.

“Uh, Tony has it.”

You ran your palms all over your face, calming yourself down. You breathe out. You knew you had to stop yourself from crying as you cannot stand doing it again.  It’s pointless. You’ve been tearing up ever since you came here and you have never been this vulnerable. You don’t like it. Before Bruce can repeat a word, you sighed heavily.

“I’m sorry,” you said, shaking your head. “I… I was just surprised Howard planned on building another time machine and never made a move on it.”

Bruce hummed quietly and replied, “It’s fine… Everything must have been a lot to you.”

You chuckled, trying to lighten up the atmosphere, “Yeah, it’s a real bummer and I think it makes me blow a fuse really easily. I swear I was never this emotional.”

If he did it, would I have come back earlier?

The question floats in your head as you set your eyes on the quiet lake just outside the compound. You pulled your knees closer to your chest and rested your chin on your knees. The sky was already dimming down as the sun already set. Nature was quiet and the only loud thing was your brain with all these questions you were asking yourself.

There was a part of you who wished you shouldn’t have just asked Bruce. Maybe you wouldn’t feel this way. But you were always curious about things, so you asked. And here you are, having this moment. As if knowing about Howard’s plans is not enough, you still had thoughts if you can ask Tony about it. You let out an exasperated, hopeless exhale. Maybe not.

“Dr. Y/N!”

You snapped out of your deep thoughts when you heard your name. Turning your head to your side, you spotted Peter approaching with a smile on his face. He waved his hand, and your lips form a small smile.

“Hey… I thought you were staying with your aunt tonight?”

He sat beside you on the green grass, “I’m just staying here until nine. Then, I’ll go back home. I dropped by to see if you’re baking tonight.”

You giggled, “Well, today’s not your lucky day, kid. But I think we still have a few brownies in the jar from the other day.”

“I checked. It’s already empty.” he feigned disappointment, holding his chest, and you two chuckled. “How was your day here, doc?”

“Boring. I haven’t really done much. Bruce saw me in the kitchen earlier and invited me to his lab. I just miss doing something again.“ you confessed with a hint of frustration in your tone. “How about you, kid?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “Eh, just school. I and my friend Ned ended up in detention because he cannot stop talking about this new movie during chemistry class. Then, our other friend, MJ joined us since she said she enjoys going to detention. We planned to eat something after but MJ has a part-time job to go to.” Peter shared and you feel that he was pretty satisfied with how his day went.

“Well, at least one of us got to bond with their friends,” you scoffed. “I have to get used to my friends being superheroes.”

“They are usually busy, aren’t they?”

You nod, “Yeah. It actually made me feel jobless.”

You two laughed at that. You resumed, “I can’t believe I finished two books in a short period– Speaking of books, I was wondering if you could lend me a hand.”

“For what?”

“Oh, you know that novel I’ve been reading these past few days?”

“Ah, the one with the whole time machine plot too?”

“Yes. I… I really loved the book. Is there any way I can reach out to the author? Maybe write them a letter? I just really want to let them know that it’s a good story.”

Maybe it’s because of a lot of free time on your hand. But you just really adored the plot and the novel itself. You found it in the new releases section of the bookstore you went to days ago. But the story was set around your time, in the 40s, and mainly revolved around time traveling, which initially pulled you into buying it. It was accurate by the era it was in, and it made you feel closer to where you came from. Now, you just finished it and it was beautiful even though it was left on a cliffhanger. It causes you something to look forward to.  

“We can try to reach out. Maybe they have e-mail. It’s faster than sending them written letters.” Peter suggests.

You cocked an eyebrow, “What’s an email?”

“Oh, it’s electronic mail. It’s like the modern type of exchanging letters with other people. Instead of asking for the person’s home address, they can just give you their email address. Then, you can send them a message with the computer or cellphone.” he explains and you nod.

“How about your laptop?”

He nods, “Yeah, we can also use that.”

You two ended up walking back to the compound. Peter helped you with creating your own e-mail address and typing your message to the author. You wanted to learn and get used to with using this gadget so you offered to type yourself. He was patient enough to teach you with the keys on the keyboard as you type. 

“So, it automatically saves itself as a draft?”

You moved the cursor on the screen as you glided your index finger on the touchpad of his laptop. It wasn’t a long message but it was genuine. You re-read the whole thing again before passing the laptop to Peter.

“Yeah, what’s the name of the author again?” the boy asked before opening a new tab in the browser.

“Oh, wait…” you reached for the book and read the huge, bold name written on the front cover. “It’s… Donald S. Burton.”

“Okay, we can look for his website. Maybe he has his contacts there.”

His voice trailed off when he began typing on the search bar. It never fails to amaze you how fast this thing can give you answers. It’s like all of the books in the library were compiled into this gadget. Peter input the name and a list of information about Donald S. Burton showed up. There were even images of the man. You cannot help but smile when the old guy reminds you of someone familiar.

“Here is his email!“

“I like these. What are these again?” 

Steve smiled at your curiosity, “Chicken nuggets.”

“Okay. Chicken nuggets,” you repeated. “I wished we had these in our time. I love these and these sauces. And of course, this sundae!” you exclaimed before taking a scoop with the tiny spoon.

Just a couple of days after you talked with Bruce in the lab and sent an e-mail with Peter’s help, you found yourself having a picnic with Steve just around the city. It was a quiet park in the busy city. It was a Tuesday so there were fewer people in the place. He invited you with it after he got home from his mission.

“Should I bake or make something?” you asked him.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. We’ll be ordering food on the way to the park,” he replied.

“Are the others coming too?” you asked again.

He shook his head, “I… didn’t ask them.”

“Why didn’t you ask them?” you raised an eyebrow. 

Steve seemed to be caught off guard. Bucky, Sam, Natasha, and Peter, who were also in the living room when you asked, smirked and looked at each other knowingly when they saw their leader’s frozen reaction. He stood there awkwardly with his hands on his hips. Natasha was the first to break the silence.

“I’ll be training,” she said.

The others caught on to it and spew their reasons too. Peter chimed in, “I have a ton of homework to do, Doc.”

“I’m visiting my sister in Louisiana,” Sam explained with a scoff. That made you squint your eyes at him. Then you looked at Bucky, waiting for his reason. He seemed frozen like the gears in his head is turning.

“I… uhm… I’m…”

“He’ll help me with training.” Nat saved him. “We’ll do some planning with the next mission.”

So that’s how you and Steve ended up alone on this picnic, which you don’t mind. You had a fun ride going here. He lets you play songs by connecting your rarely-used phone to the car’s stereo.

“How did you learn about that song?” he asked when American Pie played.

You smiled, “Natasha. I heard it from her.”

You ordered food from a fast food chain through a drive-thru. It was exciting as Steve ordered meals you didn’t try before. When you arrived at the peaceful park, you insist on helping him with bringing stuff. He just made you bring the blanket while he carries all the other things. When you found a perfect spot, you laid the gingham blanket on the green grass. You sat comfortably in your casual floral dress before you two began eating.

“Thank you for this, Steve.” you smiled.

“You’re welcome. Thank you for coming with me. I haven’t been on a picnic with someone for a while.” he said.

“You know, before I got in the time machine, I went picnic with my neighbors.” you shared, remembering that day with the Smiths.

“Mr. and Mrs. Jones?!” he asked with surprise.

Your ears perked when you heard that. The Jones were your neighbors before the Smiths. They are the last ones Steve knew since he and Bucky would sometimes fetch you if you were hanging out somewhere. The said couple was a bit grumpy, to be honest. They can hear even the smallest noise you would make in your apartment and would always let you know they don’t like it. 

“Oh, no. They moved out months after you disappeared. Another family occupied their space. Susan and Robert Smith. They have this little kid named Donny. They are much nicer.” you joked.

“Well, that’s nice. I missed a lot of things while on ice.” 

“It was only two years, Steve. Nothing much happened.” you snorted, finishing your sundae.

“A lot of things can happen. I know Howard found the Tesseract while searching for me on the ice… Share some things that happened in those two years.” 

“Okay…” you exhaled. “I bet you already know that they tried making a series after Captain America vanished. You became an icon. Have you seen it?”

You laughed when you saw Steve hissed, “I didn’t like it.”

“Yeah, it was bad.” you cracked up. You only watched that once. You don’t like how they painted Peggy into a character named Betty who was always a damsel in distress. Peggy had complained about it too.

“Anyway, we– Howard and I– tried for like a year to search for you. But he would usually be the one to go on sites and I would always try to come with him. He needs more convincing but it always works.”

Howard often says that going in the field can be dangerous and you would fight back over and over again. You were glad you did because you were with them when they found the Tesseract.

“What convincing did you do?”

“Well, I would say that I’m his assistant. My job is technically following him around. Then when he says no, I’ll say that I am his best friend. I still do have my last reason if he denies me of coming with him.” you said.

“And what is it?”

You paused and just stared at him. Chewing on your bottom lip, you hmmed. It was like you were thinking if you should tell him the last reason for Howard to let you go with him. Steve waits. He tried to be comfortable as he leaned back with his arms resting behind him. He hoped he doesn’t look much curious or nosy. After what felt like an eternity, you spoke.

“It’s… It’s that I am the last one you spoke to while you were on that plane.” 

You looked away from him, avoiding his gaze. You tried to just look at the trees and people from the distance than just look at Steve. Your chest felt heavier when you remembered that time Steve fought that skull and had control of that plane. Steve didn’t say a word so you continued to explain more, just to get it off your chest.

“It would always work since he fully knows that I have guilt living in my system after the country lost you.” you chuckled bitterly. “I felt awfully bad that I cannot do anything to help you during that situation.”

When your voice shook uncontrollably in the last words of your sentence, Steve sat back up and you can see the sympathy in his blue eyes. He reached out for your resting hand, instantly caging it in his warm hands.

“Y/N… none of it was your fault. It was already a dead-end situation. I was the one who chose to crash it.” he tried to reassure you.

“I know, I know,” you mumbled, tears slipping from your eyes. “But I cannot stand losing another person in my life that time, Steve.”

Your tearful eyes met his concerned ones. “We just lost Barnes earlier that year. And I really just can’t lose you… I tried to think of something. Howard was in the same room while I was talking to you on the phone. We tried to make a plan but we don’t have any idea where the hell the plane was and it was moving really fast. It was really bad. I felt helpless. I thought I might have been able to do something to help you but we have no time. I hate that all I can do is talk to you on the phone, hoping that you won’t feel alone, while I prayed silently for some miracle to happen. And it was crazy because  I don’t even remember the last time I prayed before that moment.”

By the time you finished talking, you were full-on sobbing. Your chest heaved and your cheeks were damp from your salty tears. Steve held your hand. His thumb drew circles on it as he lets you cry for more. And when he felt you calming down, he uttered:

“Staying in that call with me until the end was enough for me. I appreciate you for handling yourself very well and being calm with me that time. You are amazing. And you don’t know how relieved I am when I knew you were the one who answered the call. Thank you.” Steve said softly, offering a small smile as he looked directly into your eyes. “You already did much more you know for me that time.”

2/19/1945

Y/N arrived with puffy eyes today. I knew it before she even removed the black sunglasses she had on. I already told her the day before that she have the choice of not going to the laboratory today. But she still did. It was quiet the whole day in the lab. We both tried to act busy like nothing much happened. Due to the events of these past two weeks, I’ve been getting telephone calls from a lot of people. I chose to ignore them because I know it has something to do with Rogers’ disappearance and I’d been hearing they want to make the serum like Ernskine’s. I honestly think that it would be hard to “remake” Captain America ever again. She didn’t eat anything for the whole day even a cup of coffee. I insisted on walking her home, saying I have to borrow her old research about the future of computers. She said she’ll just bring it tomorrow but I said I need it urgently even though I really don’t. In fact, I have nothing to do with her research. I just had to make sure she’ll get home safe. I thought it was a good idea to just walk with her instead of asking Jarvis to drive us. But boy, I was wrong. The loss of the nation’s superhero is plastered all over the place. I tried distracting Y/N by telling her about the funny encounter I had with a girl months ago. I never told her about it before because I know she doesn’t like that I cannot commit to a single girl. But I have no more story to tell at the moment. It was a relief that she let out small laughs and smile at it. Although the smiles didn’t reach her eyes, I hope she felt better for a bit. She was about to say some advice or something when she suddenly froze. Her lips formed into a frown and I see tears forming in her eyes. I follow where her eyes lay and it was the newspapers. WE NEED A NEW CAPTAIN. The headline was printed in big, bold letters. Eye-catching. “They cannot just replace Steve like that.” It was a whisper from her. I hate that all I can do is sigh. Two minutes later, we reached her apartment. She handed me her research and thanked me. She smiled. But it was forced, I know.

As I am writing this letter, I am thinking of leaving this city with Y/N for a vacation somewhere away from here. I don’t know if she will like that. Maybe she won’t. Maybe I’ll just settle on walking her home with another made-up reason from the back of my head. I don’t know. I just feel helpless seeing her like this again after Barnes’ and now, Rogers’ death. Even so, I’ll always make sure that she will be alright.

H.S. 

Tony removed his eyeglasses as he finished reading. His index finger traces the handwritten words by his father, sighing in the process. He can hear his father’s voice with each word in it. 

“Tony, we need to go. We should fly at six!” Pepper’s voice cuts off his thoughts.

He stretched his limbs before replying, “Okay, honey. Just getting my glasses.” 

Tony stared at the page again for a second before closing his father’s journal. He slid it onto one of the drawers on his nightstand and left.

THE SEND-OFF TAGLIST

@supraveng @sunflower-golden-vol6 @curi0usc4t @caitlyn-who @bitchy-bi-trash @stilltoomuchafangirl @matisse556 @ladybug05 @sunwoahkim @meanttobea @j69confessional2 @thenyxsky @swthxrry @justab-eautifulmess @7minutes-tomidnight @curlycarley @thefalconandthewinterwidowshield @wisepenguin @shatfairy @coffeeshub @stillthatbetch @cosmicgirls-things @mediocre-m @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @mrsjaderogers @themerc-with-a-mouth @slutdreams @royalwritersoftheuniverses @yunloyal @avengersinitiative2012 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @madnessinwrighting @lilizia @saintmagx @saranghaey @elmphoenix17 @animegirlgeeky @t-stark35 @ameliabs-world @seijaelee @sully-stick-together @capswife @katdahlali @avengersgirllorianna

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@rosedpetal

[shujohajohaminnie]

HELLOOOOOOOOO I FUCKING LOVE YOU WRITING and I was wondering if you could get more in drunk SKZ

Heyyyyy, thank you so much for the support, I’m glad you're enjoying my writing. Now to the long-awaited request.

Pairing: ot8 x Gn!reader 

Genre: Fluff, established relationship 

Content: SFW

Word Count:Bangchan(221), Minho(244), Changbin(158), Hyunjin(173), Jisung(137), Felix(166), Seungmin (304), Jeongin (151)- Total (1554)

Summary: Just the boys being drunk. 

Slight profanity, Alcohol use, Injuries, Pet names, A little suggestive

Bang Chan Clean Freak

It was a mystery why the moment even the tiniest bit of alcohol consumed by Chan transformed him into the biggest clean freak.  It wasn’t a rare occasion that after a long day of dance practice and recording all the boys wanted to do was go home and ‘have a cold one’. (Although he wasn’t an avid drinker).  You loved seeing the chaos that invoked the home, but even more, you loved seeing your boyfriend in any state that wasn’t stress, or burnout. However, you were the stress-e in this case. You felt your heart leap out of your chest the moment his swaying frame left your sight. Only to find him on the floor scrubbing a stain on the floor. Or the top of a ladder cleaning the highest of ceilings. 

-“Are we expecting a baby” “I’m  sorry?” “Chan Hyung is nesting again” 

-“My love it’s 2 in the morning what are you doing” “Hvae you evr n-noticedd how fuking disustng the stairy railngs are” “No my love I haven’t come to bed” “Yeh in a bit, after I’m clened the fans and duted the top shlf on the boocase” “Chan you’re not getting on the ladder again you almost broke your neck last time” “Pshh I pro” 

- Re-organizing everything.

-Cleaning every surface in the home. 

Minho Saranghae

Lee Know worked so very hard to put up this intimidating wall of ‘I’m a tough guy’, but once he had even the slightest bit of alcohol that wall came crashing down like it was no ones business. He suddenly could care less who knew he loved them. Making sure to scream I LOVE YOU at the top of his lungs for the world to hear every five minutes. Now you loved it, you loved the fact that everyone got to see the person he was with you.  

-*Wraps arm around shoulder* “I love you so so so so so so so so so so so so much… did you know that” “You don’t say” “I do say” “I love you too hon”  {Not even five minutes later} “I love you so much… I wanna marry you and have babies with you and love you and the babies. I wanna love you for my forever ” 

- “I’m cleaning” “I love you Chan Hyung” “I love you too Lee Know” “I know” 

- “Hyunjin I love you” “Is that why you shove tissues down my throat-” “That's what she said” “HAN THAT DOESNT MAKE SENSE SHUT UP” 

- “I love you” “If you love her so much marry her” “I have an idea… let's have a wedding right now Lee Know Hyung and Y/n ” “In the living room” “No in the jungle” “Let's do it” “Honey I’m not going to marry you while you're intoxicated” 

Changbin HUNGRY HUNGRY BINNIE!!

Everyone knew of your boyfriend's appetite. He was a hungry boy, in the best way possible. You needed help finishing a plate, he’s got you. You wanna go on a McDonald's run at 4 a.m.. He’s got you. However, that appetite was on blast when alcohol entered his system, contradicting his sober words “I don’t like beer, it fills me up too much”. This man is eating leftovers from dinner, he’s eating chips, he’s eating cookies. Did you hear that, Binnie, just postmated food. On top of that, he was even louder than sober Changbin, you didn’t even know that was possible. Every phrase that escapes his beautiful mouth is being yelled out. 

- “Who ordered pizza” “ME DON’T TOUCH IT” 

- “YOU GONNA EAT THAT” 

- “I’M SO HUNGRY” “You just ate an entire pizza, a whole bag of chips, and downed a case of rootbeer, what do you mean you’re hungry” “I NEED MORE”

Hyunjin Pabo Sammy

It was a running joke that when your boyfriend drank it was as if he was another person. Total personality switch. His once tame and introverted personality switched to the most outgoing person ever. It was then and only then that the boys called the love of your life by his English name. The reason being that "Sam and Hyunjin aren't the same… they're not even related". You could also tell Hyunjin anything while he was drunk and he’d believe it. 

-"JINNIE HOW MUCH FOR YOU TO STAND ON THE TABLE AND SEXY DANCE" "Pshh I'll do it for free" 

-"Babe did you know that the mona lisa was originally a cat” “Who told you that” “Seungmin” 

"Jinnie give me your phone" "What, why" "Because I can't have you almost releasing our sex tape again" "People need to see that shit… it's art my love" 

- “Where’s Hyunjin” “Talking to that group of guys over there about KKami” “What the fuck” 

- “THIS IS MY SIXTH SHOT AND I CAN SMELL COLORS" 

Han Giggles 

Han Jisung three words. Dirty mind Giggaly. Everything that came out of your mouth(Lol) was turned into a ‘that's what she said’ joke. Whether it made sense or not. Can’t do a single thing without this man gasping for air, rolling on the floor, clutching his stomach laughing. Very touching sober or not. Loud one part 2.

- “I CAN’T BREATHE” “HAN IT WASN’T EVEN FUNNY” 

- “You wanna sleep with me” “Babe you’re drunk” “So yes so no?” 

- “And so I told her are you gonna help me get off or not” “THATS WHAT SHE SAID” “Han we’re talking about her sister in the hospital” “Ohhh” 

- “You wanna go to my room and have sex” “Still no babe” “I’ll ask you again in an hour” “Please don’t” 

- “Han it wasn’t that funny” “YES IT WAS” 

Felix Sleepy Lixie

You loved how calm Felix got when he was under the influence. While you felt bad for the boy's partners struggling with them, you couldn’t help but feel like you won the lottery with Felix in every aspect. While they were running after their boyfriends all you had to do was lay on the couch with Felix and cuddle. On the rare occasion that Felix wasn’t sleepy, he was emotional. There are so many feelings trapped in that tiny body that he has to let out. He will be crying for hours, sometimes over the littlest things. 

- “Lixie why are you crying my love” “I love stay so muchhhh” 

- “Lixie wake up let's get you in your bed” “Naur… let's sleep on the couch” 

- “Felix why are you crying” “Just look at them” *Turns around to see a cute old couple feeding each icecream* “They are so in love I want that to be usssssss” 

- Asleep on the kitchen counter for some reason

Seungmin Mischievous Minnie

There are two stages of Seungmin. Drinking Seungmin was a delight, some of the deepest conversations you have had with him were in the process of getting drunk. Going on rants about how differently his life would be over meaningless things, But drunk Seungmin. He was a menace. He’d go around driving his members insane all the time. Pulling pranks on the guys when all they were trying to do was have a peaceful time. You felt bad for the amount of time Felix’s partner had to console Felix over some of the things your boyfriend has said. Hide the saran wrap. 

- “Seungmin did you see the old couple… they’re so cute” “Yeah so close to death, that's why they spend a lot of time with each other” “What-” “It’s the truth” “Don’t say thattttttttt” 

- Saran Wrap is his best friend

- “WHO THE FUCK PUT SARAN WRAP ON THE KETCHUP” “AYYYY THAT WOULD BE ME” 

- “Who put saran wrap on the toilet” “If I say me to I get an award for best prank” “No” “Then it wasn’t me” “Now I have to clean it up” 

- “Who told Hyunjin that he could fly as long as he believed he could” “Me” “He just jumped off the counter” “Did he fly” “No” “Then he didn’t believe” 

- “Who made Lixie cry” “That would be me” 

- “I’m being serious I wonder what would have happened if I went down the right side of work today instead of my usual left side, would it have been a faster route, would I even be alive” “Why wouldn’t you be alive Min” “I don’t know what if there was a serial killer on the right side” “Babe-” “Don’t even get me started on what wouldve happened if I wore my grey shirt instead of this blue one” 

I.N Idea man 

Like I said before, you man is the idea man for the group. You never said they were good ideas though. It’d be 4 a.m and he’s planning a road trip to Paris to see the rock? His ideas definitely never made sense. 

- “I have an idea… let's open an underground wrestling team and take bets” 

- “I have an idea… we should watch Frozen” "We saw it yesterday" "So? There can never be too much Elsa" "I'm telling you right now, there can be" 

- “I have an idea… let's pack the car and go on a road trip” “You forgetting the only drivers here are so drunk they can’t walk straight” “I can do it” “No baby you can’t drive” “I have an idea… you should let me drive” 

- “I have an idea… let's play just dance” “Let's not… you almost broke my nose last time” 

I hope you liked it, again I say anyone can always request whatever they like.

Like, Comment, and Reblog if you liked it. It really helps out.

[strang3lov3]

5 people I'd like to get to know better

Thank you for the tag @evolnoomym 🩷

Last song: Mayonnaise by the Smashing Pumpkins

Favorite color: Light blue

Last book: The Black Death: The Great Mortality of 1348-1350: A Brief History with Documents by John Aberth

Last movie: I got halfway through Alien and then the baby alien emerged from the dude’s chest. I got wigged out because of the blood and guts and the guy screaming in pain.

Last TV show: Gosh. I haven’t been watching much TV. Just a lot of Northernlion streams. I suppose Sopranos too, but at a slower pace because it’s making me anxious and I can only take so much.

Sweet/spicy/savory: Depends on my mood but never spicy. I have the heat tolerance of a marshmallow. At a Christmas party last year, we ordered a bunch of wings and ate them with the hot ones hot sauces. I faked a dab each time and wouldn’t even touch da bomb.

Relationship status: engaged for almost a year now, but in November I’ll be celebrating 5 years with my other half ❤️

Last thing I googled: the menu of the Spanish restaurant my fiancé is taking me to tomorrow evening. He’s gonna get the tapas platter, I’m gonna have paella, and we’re gonna share everything. The last time we went, the restaurant owner kissed my hand and I blushed.

Current obsession: Silent Hill. I wanna be fucked by both Pyramid Head and James.

Looking forward to: going to the movies this month to see A Real Pain, Gladiator II, and We Live In Time. Eating so much popcorn and drinking rootbeer and eating The Good Ice™ during those movies. Writing fics. Stepdaddy!Romey especially. Finishing my research paper and being done with this semester. Going to sleep in freshly cleaned bedding tonight, being held and having my back rubbed by my partner. The blueberry pie my grandma’s making for my birthday. For my bangs to grow out the rest of the way

Npt - @luiscarrutherss @greenduvet @ovaryacted @zloshy @covetyou @beefrobeefcal

[heartfullofleeches]

Quick descriptions of my milk cow hybrid yans since it's been a while-

Eggnog [They/them] - Seamstress who lives in the attic/walls of the old farmer's house reader lives in in majority of fics. Steals clothing reader no longer uses to make into outfits for their stuffed rabbit/use as pillow cases. Timid, afraid of loud noises. The tallest of the hybrids and most soft spoken mainly due to damage to their vocal cords. Sings to reader from the attic when they upset

Cotton Candy Milk [they/them] - Town Jester. Silly and carefree, but serious about their crafts. Creates paints with their milk they use to paint portraits of reader.

Screamsicle [they/them] - Formerly known as creamsicle, Screamsicle has a love for all these spooky (and reader). Wears a pumpkin mask they never take off after an incident with humans that resulted in injury. Carrie's around a skeleton with a different name every other week and tells it secrets they'd take to the grave

Rootbeer Milk [he/him] - Cowboy cow. Tries to impress with his sharp shooting, but his aim is rather dull due to needing glasses and refusing to wear them because he thinks they're for dorks (unless reader wears them). Related to Ginger Milk

Ginger Milk [she/her] - Mechanic and owner of the junkyard in town. Loud mouthed and hot tempered, but means well. Works daily in her shop on to impress/improve reader's life and only bugs half of them

Peach Milk [she/her] - Token mean girl, but loves to spoil reader regardless. Makes creams and body scrubs for herself and reader with her milk. Older twin sister to Apricot

Apricot [he/him] - Lifeguard and the sweetheart to his sister's bitterness. Spends all his time at the lake, writing love letters he'll never send. Younger Twin brother to Peach

Milk Tea [he/him] - Town Therapist few actually go to. Stickler for rules, life of the party when wasted. Insists most of reader's problems come from having so many people around them and that they should talk to him alone

Spice Milk [he/they] - Bar owner and the shoulder most go to cry on. Offers the same kindness to reader and prays they don't mind if he does the same.

Apple Milk [They/Them] - Town Doctor. Easily and constantly stressed with work who just wants to crawl into reader's bed and never leave

Mint Milk [They/Them] - Pothead. Makes edibles with their milk they dump off on reader and others. Laid back, though extremely possessive

Vanilla Milk [she/her] - Baker. Acts holier than thou, but a freak behind closed doors.

Cherry Milk [she/they] - Skater girl. Never removes her helmet and pads as she's constantly trying to one up previous stunts and to hide her broken horn. One of the weakest hybrids, but carries a spiked bat

Strawberry Milk [he/they] - Heavylifter and caretaker of the farm/crops. Refuses to let reader use their feet when he's around and carries them around on his shoulders

Chocolate Milk [he/him] - Sherriff. Stoic and easy to anger by everyone except reader. Working on a safe room/apartment for reader in his basement. Has never been milked and refuses to be so which is part of his problem

Licorice Milk [he/him] - Probably the reason there's a need for a sheriff in the first place. Also why many human tourists never make it to their final destination. Offers to cook for reader - they'd be wise not to even drink the water/milk he gives them. Rarely speaks unless it's over the phone. Leaves reader messages that range from slightly cute to cute but only through the eyes of a cannibal cowman

Banana [she/they] - Abrasive tech wiz. Hates being touched/bothered by others - reader being their only exception. Often fixes little kinks in Ginger Milk's machinery and replaces her spyware for their own. Wants to be more open with reader, but struggles to express herself

Oat Milk [she/her] - Nun/gardener. Most avoid her, Eggnog is terrified of her. The only hybrid without a tail or horns. Plants her crops outside reader's window. They smell so sweet and speak even sweeter during full moons

[ssilentzom]

. .𖥔 ݁ ˖ jazzys navigation . ･ ˖ ·

about me : african & italian , 19 yrs , i luv sharks , rootbeer <3 i am deeply in love with laufey and vic fuentes. ( and mitski !! , and kellin quinn . ) ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ୨ৎ

heres my writings ! : masterlist

. who do i write for ?? ⋆⭒˚.⋆

matt sturniolo

chris sturniolo

nick sturniolo (platonic)

colby brock

corey scherer

jake webber

johnnie guilbert

sam golbach

simon "ghost" riley

soap mactavish

kyle gaz garrick

john price

andrew garfield (as spiderman)

i wont write :

. rape , sa , etc

. incest

. feet kink , piss kink . . .

. racism , homophobia.

[d1tz]

🌠🌙― "And just like the moon, we must go through phases of emptiness to feel full again."

SO I finally decided to make a reference sheet for Tavern's current design! I'm debating if I should redesign it to make them look more like a tavern keeper, but I like the current fit ^^

Full body ref and info dump undercut!

Random Facts about Tavern Rootbeer yay!!:

Tavern is actually my first DnD character! At first, I made them up to solely ship them with Astarion, but ideas start popping up and I ended up writing some lore for them LOL. I polished their backstory when I got into my first DnD campaign with them

The design is mostly inspired by western bartender clothing since I planned them to be a bard-tender (haha, get it?) I was looking for a good idea on how I should run Tav's bard concept in YT comment sections/YT shorts (idk which) and the word 'bard-tender' popped up. I liked the idea so much, I decided to implement it!

They can summon multiple mage hands to play multiple instruments at the same time, like a One-Man Band (can't utilize this concept in battle tho for fair play)

Their main color (teal) and 1st accent color (pink) are picked from the Aurora Borealis!

I'm not sure if I drew it properly, but they have central heterochromia (teal for outer ring, pink for inner ring)

Their hairstyle is inspired by their adopted dwarf mother!

I would really like to yap more about Tavern, but I gotta wrap this up here. If I have time, I think I might make more art, or even short comics with Astarion :DD

Link to info template used on first pic