#but my friends do call me the emotion guy so

[theonottsbxtch]

PREACHER’S DAUGHTER PT5 | MV1

an: AND WE'RE BACK!! WHO MISSED OUR FAVOURITE LITTLE FAMILY! can't wait to hear what you guys think of this part, i've loved being with them this week, this is a shorter chapter but i've got ideas for what might happen next! lmk if y'all wanna see anything in particular

wc: 3.2k

Theo was four when his parents welcomed his sister, and Max very nearly missed it, if not for Danny.

It had been a normal day at the garage, Max elbow-deep in an engine rebuild, grease staining his hands and his focus entirely on the task at hand. His phone, forgotten on the workbench, buzzed furiously with calls and messages. It wasn’t until Danny came barreling into the shop, panting like he’d just run a marathon, that Max looked up.

“Max! Man, what the hell are you doing?” Danny wheezed, clutching his knees.

Max straightened, wiping his hands on a rag. “Uh, working? What’s wrong with you? You look like you’re dying.”

Danny shot him a glare, pointing accusingly at the phone vibrating incessantly on the workbench. “Your wife is trying to call you! She’s in labour, man! She’s having the baby!”

Max froze, the rag slipping from his fingers. “What?”

“She’s at the hospital! Her aunt’s with her, but you need to move! Now!”

Max’s heart lurched into overdrive. Without a word, he sprinted to the workbench, grabbed his phone, and bolted out the door. “Danny, lock up!” he shouted over his shoulder as he jumped onto his bike.

Danny shook his head, muttering, “You owe me for this one, man.”

Max arrived at the hospital in record time, still in his grease-stained shirt and boots. His wife was mid-contraction when he burst into the room, panting, his face a mixture of guilt and relief.

“You’re here,” she said through gritted teeth, her eyes narrowing slightly before softening at his frazzled appearance.

“I’m here,” he confirmed, rushing to her side and taking her hand. “I’m sorry, angel. My phone was on silent—”

“Save it,” she hissed, squeezing his hand so tightly he thought his bones might break. “You’re here now. Just don’t let go.”

Max didn’t. Not for a second. Hours later, they welcomed a healthy baby girl into the world. Max cried as he held her for the first time, the tiny bundle swaddled in pink resting against his chest. He looked at his wife, her hair damp and her face radiant despite her exhaustion.

“She’s perfect,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re perfect.”

Their daughter, Mary-Ann, came home a few days later to a little house with a white picket fence that they had purchased not long before her birth. It was a modest place, but it was theirs, filled with laughter, love, and the chaos that only a toddler and a newborn could bring.

Theo was adjusting to his new role as a big brother with enthusiasm and curiosity. He followed his parents around, always asking to hold the baby or show her his toys. “She likes dinosaurs, right?” he would ask, clutching his favourite plastic stegosaurus.

“She loves dinosaurs,” Max assured him, grinning as he ruffled Theo’s hair.

Max had seamlessly embraced fatherhood, splitting his time between the garage and his family. He spent his evenings teaching Theo how to kick a football in the back garden and his nights rocking Mary-Ann to sleep.

The house, with its picket fence and flowerbeds lovingly tended by his wife, was the picture of the life Max had never imagined for himself. Yet, here he was, living it and loving every moment.

The day of Mary-Ann’s baptism dawned clear and bright, the kind of perfect day that made everything feel just a little more magical. Their little family was dressed in their Sunday best, Theo proudly wearing a bowtie that his mother had wrestled him into after much negotiation, and Mary-Ann bundled in a delicate white christening gown.

They arrived at the church to find her aunt, Danny, and a few close friends waiting for them, just as they had for Theo’s baptism years ago. Her aunt immediately swooped in to coo over Mary-Ann, her face soft with affection.

“She’s the spitting image of you at this age,” her aunt said warmly, brushing a soft curl away from Mary-Ann’s forehead.

“Let’s hope she doesn’t inherit my teenage rebellion,” she joked, glancing at Max, who chuckled.

The service itself was intimate and beautiful. As the pastor spoke, Theo sat on Max’s lap, squirming occasionally but staying quiet enough to earn whispered praise from both his parents. When it came time for the baptism, Max and his wife stood together at the front of the church, Theo holding onto his mother’s hand while Max held Mary-Ann close.

The pastor asked Theo if he wanted to say anything, and the boy puffed out his chest importantly, his tiny voice ringing out through the quiet chapel. “We’re all gonna be... um... part of Chris-tain-ity now!”

There was a soft chuckle from the congregation, but Theo frowned, frustrated by his own mispronunciation. His brows knitted together, and before anyone could stop him, he muttered under his breath, “Damn it.”

Max’s head snapped around, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at his son. “Where did you hear that, Theo?”

Without hesitation, Theo turned and pointed to Danny, who froze mid-grin. “Uncle Daddy says it all the time.”

The entire room dissolved into laughter, but Max’s expression darkened. “His name is Uncle Danny. Not Daddy,” he corrected firmly. He handed Mary-Ann to his wife with exaggerated care and then fixed Danny with a dangerous look. “Uncle Danny also has five seconds to run.”

Danny’s eyes widened as he stammered, “Now, hold on a second—”

“Five.”

Danny bolted toward the back of the church, nearly tripping over a pew. Max didn’t miss a beat, stepping around the altar and charging after him. Theo laughed hysterically as he watched his father chase Danny out the door, and his mother shook her head, trying to stifle her own giggles.

When Max returned a few minutes later, slightly winded but victorious, Danny trailing behind him with a sheepish grin, the ceremony continued. The pastor, who had been struggling to keep a straight face, resumed his blessing, and little Mary-Ann was baptised without further incident.

As they left the church, Theo clung to Max’s hand, his face lit with excitement. “Daddy, can I chase Uncle Danny next time?”

Max ruffled his hair, smirking. “Not until you’re faster than me, kid.”

The two of them loved the life they had built together and sometimes when Max woke up he had to pinch himself. Just under half a decade ago he was eating dry hotdogs and drinking stale beers in a rundown trailer. Now he was helping his wife. His wife. In the kitchen with his two kids. Not one, two. Max was a father and everyday he woke up he couldn’t really believe. it.

The smell of cinnamon and vanilla wafted through the house as she stood at the counter, carefully icing a tray of perfectly golden cupcakes. Mary-Ann was nestled in her baby chair nearby, happily chewing on a soft toy, and the kitchen felt like the warm, beating heart of their home.

Out in the garage, Max had Theo standing on a small step stool by the workbench, his tiny hands gripping a wrench that was far too big for him. Max crouched beside him, guiding his hands as they worked on an old oil pan together. Theo giggled every time Max made a joke, his high-pitched laughter filling the air.

She wiped her hands on her apron, grabbed a glass of iced tea, and wandered outside to watch her boys. Leaning against the doorframe, she crossed her arms and smiled. “Teaching him how to change oil already? He’s four, Max.”

Max turned, his grease-streaked face lighting up when he saw her. “Hey, never too early to learn the basics, right, buddy?”

Theo nodded enthusiastically, smearing a streak of oil across his cheek as he waved the wrench triumphantly. “Mama, I’m helping!”

“I can see that,” she laughed, walking over and kissing the top of his messy hair.

As her gaze wandered around the garage, it landed on their old motorbike, tucked into the corner, its polished chrome gleaming even in the dim light. Her smile turned into a smirk, and she gestured toward it with her glass. “You know, you’re going to have to sell that death trap.”

Max froze mid-laugh, a look of horror crossing his face. “What? No way. We’ve got so many memories with that bike.”

“We have two kids now, Max.”

He frowned, standing up and crossing his arms. “But what if Theo wants it when he grows up?”

She raised an eyebrow, placing a hand on her hip. “He’s not stepping a foot on that thing.”

Max threw his hands up in exaggerated protest. “Oh, so when it’s us, it’s fine, but when it’s Theo, it’s a problem?”

She grinned, completely unbothered. “Yup.”

Before he could argue further, Danny strolled into the garage, a familiar plastic container in hand. “Alright, where’s the good stuff? I heard there’s baking going on in that kitchen, and you know the deal—Danny gets dibs.”

She laughed, pointing toward the house. “I’ll bring you some in a second. Just made a fresh batch.”

As Danny leaned against the workbench, Max glanced at him, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Hey, Danny, you wanna buy that death trap over there?”

Danny raised an eyebrow, glancing at the bike. “How much are we talking?”

Max grinned. “Fifty bucks.”

Danny’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What’s the catch?”

Max smirked, holding out a hand. “You buy it, but I still get to use it whenever I want.”

Danny laughed, shaking his head but reaching out to shake Max’s hand anyway. “You got yourself a deal, man.”

Max turned to her with a triumphant grin, wiping his greasy hands on his jeans. “See? It’s sold. Problem solved.”

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head but smiling as she headed back into the house. “You two are impossible.”

As she disappeared into the kitchen, Max knelt back down beside Theo, who looked up at him with wide, curious eyes.

“Daddy, what’s a death trap?”

Max chuckled, ruffling his hair. “It’s something fun that your mom doesn’t like.”

From the kitchen, she called out, “I heard that!”

While she packed up some of her baked goods for Danny she too thought of how lucky she was. How all her prayers had been listened to. How she finally made it out of that house. How she was going to witness all her own kid’s life milestones with joy and love, not hatred and jealousy. 

The morning of Theo’s first day of school, the sunlight streamed through the windows as the family bustled to get ready. Theo stood proudly in his brand-new school uniform, his backpack almost as big as he was. Mary-Ann, her curls tied up in tiny pigtails, was toddling around in her nursery outfit, clutching her stuffed bunny like it was her lifeline.

Their mother, however, was a whirlwind of emotions. She double-checked Theo’s lunchbox for the third time and nearly forgot to zip Mary-Ann’s coat, all while blinking back tears.

“I can’t believe they’re both going,” she murmured, her voice trembling as she fixed Theo’s collar for the tenth time.

Max, leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee, tried to hide his grin. “Sweetheart, they’re not moving out. It’s just school and nursery.”

She shot him a glare. “Don’t start with me today, Max.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Come here, buddy,” he said, crouching down to Theo’s level. “You ready for your big day?”

Theo nodded, his little chest puffed out. “I’m gonna make so many friends!”

Max ruffled his hair. “That’s my boy. And you,” he added, turning to Mary-Ann and lifting her into his arms. “You take care of those nursery teachers, alright? Show ‘em who’s boss.”

Mary-Ann giggled, planting a slobbery kiss on his cheek.

After a bittersweet drop-off that left her sniffling the entire car ride home, they returned to their now eerily quiet house. For the first time in years, it was just the two of them.

She walked into the living room, glanced at the toys still scattered around, and sighed heavily, sinking into the couch. “It’s too quiet.”

Max sat beside her, pulling her into his side. “I told you this morning was gonna hit you hard.”

She swatted his chest lightly. “It’s just… I’ve never been in the house without one of them here. It’s so empty.” She buried her face in her hands, her voice muffled. “What if they need me? What if Mary-Ann gets scared? Or Theo forgets his lunch?”

Max chuckled softly, rubbing her back. “Sweetheart, Theo’s got this. The kid’s practically running for class president. And Mary-Ann? She’s gonna have the nursery wrapped around her finger before lunch.”

She peeked at him from behind her hands, her lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “You think so?”

“I know so.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her temple.

For a moment, she leaned into him, letting the comfort of his presence soothe her. But the silence of the house pressed in again, making her sigh.

Max pulled back slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You know, we’ve got the house all to ourselves now.”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Max…”

He grinned, running his fingers lightly up her arm. “I’m just saying. We’ve got a whole empty house and a few hours of peace.”

Despite herself, she laughed, smacking his shoulder. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m practical,” he countered, leaning closer. “We might never get this chance again, angel. Think about it.”

She shook her head, rolling her eyes, but her cheeks flushed. “I can’t believe you’re suggesting this right now.”

“I’m just trying to make the most of the quiet,” he teased, his hand slipping around her waist. “And besides, you’re way too stressed. Let me help you relax.”

She laughed despite herself, the weight of the morning momentarily forgotten as he kissed her neck, his stubble tickling her skin.

“You’re ridiculous,” she murmured, tilting her head to meet his lips, her heart finally feeling a little lighter.

And if she counted the exact weeks, that day was how she ended up pregnant with her third and final child.

Nine months later, their family grew again with the arrival of a boy they named Daniel. It was a tribute to Danny, their ever-reliable friend who had, over the years, become less like a buddy and more like an honorary member of the family.

Daniel came into the world with a loud cry and a shock of dark hair, immediately staking his place in the chaos of their household. Mary-Ann, now three and brimming with sass, had proudly declared herself the "boss" of her new baby brother. She often toddled around after him, dragging her favourite stuffed bunny in one hand and fussing over Daniel like a miniature mother.

Theo, at five, took his role as the eldest sibling very seriously. He loved showing off to Mary-Ann and anyone who’d listen about how he could hold his baby brother “without dropping him” (a feat Max closely supervised with a hovering hand). Theo also began peppering Max with endless questions about how cars worked, proudly announcing that he’d take over the garage one day.

The house was louder now, bursting with life and love in every corner. Daniel’s cries, Theo’s endless chatter, and Mary-Ann’s theatrical storytelling meant there was never a dull moment.

Max had learned to juggle bottles, bedtime stories, and car repairs, often collapsing into bed with her at the end of the day, marvelling at the whirlwind their life had become.

On quieter days—though “quiet” was a stretch—she’d watch Max play with the kids in their backyard. Mary-Ann would climb all over him, Theo would ask a million questions about the engine of a toy car, and baby Daniel would sit in his lap, chewing on whatever he could grab.

Sunday mornings had become a cherished tradition for her. Dressing Theo in his little button-up shirts, coaxing Mary-Ann into tights and her favourite frilly dress, and cradling baby Daniel in his soft onesie all felt like sacred rituals. She loved sharing her faith with her children, teaching them the hymns, and watching their faces light up during Sunday school.

But as much as she loved church, there was always a weight to bear. Her parents still attended the same church, their presence lingering like a spectre of the past. While most of the congregation had embraced her family with warmth, her parents had not. They’d sit on the far side of the pews, casting disapproving glares, and every so often, there were whispers—cutting, cruel words spread by those who believed her parents' version of events.

Still, she focused on her children. Theo beamed when he memorised Bible verses, Mary-Ann proudly showed off her colouring pages, and baby Daniel giggled at the choir. Sharing this part of her life with them felt like reclaiming something pure.

That afternoon, the church hosted a children’s Bible study, and she stayed to help with crafts and snacks while Max wrangled the baby. Daniel was perfectly content napping on his dad’s chest while Max sat in the corner, earning approving glances from the other parents for his patience and attentiveness.

As they packed up to leave, her father appeared, stepping out of the shadows like a storm cloud. His eyes were cold, his expression a mask of disdain. He walked past her, close enough that she could feel the venom in his whispered word:

"Whore."

The word cut through her like a knife. She froze, her heart pounding, the air sucked out of the room. Before she could even react, Max’s voice broke the moment.

"Angel, hold Daniel."

She turned to him, startled, as he handed her the baby with a calmness that belied the fire in his eyes. Then, without hesitation, Max spun on his heel and marched toward her father.

The sound of Max’s fist connecting with her father’s jaw was thunderous in the quiet room. Her father staggered back, clutching his face, as gasps rippled through the remaining churchgoers.

Max stood tall, his voice steady but cold. “Don’t you ever call my wife that again. You lost any right to speak to her the day you hurt her and abused your power. She’s a better person than you’ll ever be.”

Her father glared up at Max, but he didn’t dare rise. The weight of his disgrace was palpable as the onlookers murmured, their judgement no longer directed at her but at the man who had insulted his own daughter in a house of worship.

She stood rooted to the spot, Daniel cradled in her arms, her cheeks flushed. She could feel every eye in the room on her, but the only one that mattered was Max’s. He turned back to her, his expression softening, and strode toward her.

Max placed a gentle hand on her back, his touch grounding her. “Let’s go, angel,” he said quietly, his voice carrying none of the anger from moments before.

She nodded, unable to form words, and followed him out, their children close by. As they left the church, she glanced down at Theo and Mary-Ann, both wide-eyed but clutching each other’s hands tightly.

When they got to the car, she took a deep, shaky breath. “Max—”

He cut her off with a kiss to her temple. “Don’t. You don’t owe him anything. Not even your anger.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she leaned into him, Daniel squirming lightly in her arms. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Max tilted her chin up so she was looking at him. “You and these kids are my family. No one, not even him, gets to treat you like that.”

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[courtingchaos]

“My dad was a happy drunk.” The crackle of his inhale is right in your ear. “At least when he was still doing it regularly.” He holds the cigarette over for you to take. “I don’t know what he’s like now…like that.” He peters off for a moment, shimmying his shoulders across the old hardwood so one touches one of yours.

Laying oposite each other, heads in the crooks of each others necks, he glances over to see you staring holes through the ceiling.

“He never treated me like shit, not like that, like other kids. I can be grateful for that.” He takes the cigarette back from you when you hold it over his face. “It was after my mom died. It’s like he realized suddenly I could talk back and he forgot to treat me like a kid.” It’s his turn to stare at the ceiling while the ember dances around his words. “I was very suddenly his best friend. Always called me ‘pal’ but now? When he was home? It was like I was on the barstool next to him.” He’s not gonna cry about this. “I hated that shit.”

Another hand off, only this time he digs out his own smoke so you two can be in a haze together.

“So by the time I got to middle school, I didn’t have a dad, I had some guy who sometimes lived in the house with me.”

“Wait, you were living alone?”

He turns his head when you break your hours long silence, nodding as best he can while laying on the floor.

“Yeah. I didn’t move in with Wayne until ‘85.”

You stare at him for moment before turning back to face the ceiling.

“Anyways, it was a Fourth of July thing with some of his buddies. Someone forgot they were holding a bottle rocket and not a Roman candle and at the end of it all I had about half a head of singed hair.” He can remember the smell. Almost sour as the burnt strands crumbled on his shoulder and his dad has started laughing. Talking about near misses and being lucky but he hadn’t felt lucky. “Whole drive home he was trying to crack jokes and I wasn’t having it.” He takes a deep breath that makes the ember glow brightly. “I started crying and he told me to man up. I think he was sobering up, probably shook him to see me covered in soot.

“When we got home he took me into the bathroom and just shaved it all off. Didn’t put a fucking guard on it or anything. I don’t think I’d ever had hair that short, not since I was like…little.” He turns to stare at you then, eyes tracing the shell of your ear where your hair wisps around it in short curls. “He told me it was fine and that it looked better than before. Said the long hair made me look like a queer.”

That earns him a huff from you. One last puff of smoke into the ceiling before you stub out the butt into the ashtray near your elbow.

“I say all of that to tell you my opinion doesn’t matter. The people at work or the grocery store, it literally doesn’t matter.”

You spent the past two days crying about it but it seems your either over it or past the worst of it.

“If it upsets you, it upsets you and nothing I say is gonna make it better. I’m not gonna change your mind.” He holds his hand out across his chest and waits for you to grab it. “I’m sorry it didn’t come out the way you wanted, I know this keeps happening.”

“I didn’t think my hair meant so much to me.” You aren’t crying but the emotion weighs down your words, this he knows after years of practice.

“It’s okay that it did.”

“Feels stupid to cry over a bad haircut.”

He hums and shakes his head and doesn’t tell you it’s not stupid, you already know that. Simple things mean a lot, he knows that fickle game of attachment. He also knows that while his opinion does matter to you on some infinitesimal level, he doesn’t need to constantly remind you that it’s okay. He didn’t start a relationship with you over your hair. It’s just hair is something he’ll be able to say a few days from now when you finally start styling it and talking about a new product you bought. It’s a waiting game that he doesn’t mind waiting through, not with you. However he will remind you of one thing.

“Regardless, you’re still the prettiest girl I know.”

You laugh, something real but quiet, the first one in a few days. “Shut up.”

[straylightdream]

getaway car • coming soon

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: hansol vernon chwe x f.reader

↳ The ties were black, the lies were white. In shades of gray in candlelight. I wanted to leave him. I needed a reason.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: soulmate au??, neighbors to lovers, non idol au

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.8k and counting

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mc boyfriend is a jerk, the mc ex is physically cheating, mc is emotional cheating, protected sex, starting to have sex in the shower, lots of emotions

an: this was inspired by the song getaway car by taylor swift. This another one of my stories inspired by reputation songs. This can be read as a one shot but these guys and there friends are mention in a series of loosely connected stories called all for you

if you would like to be tagged please fill out this form.

PREVIEW

Opening your phone you hit Vernon contact. Holding your phone to your ear it rings about five times before he answers the phone.

“Is everything okay?” It’s rare you call him let alone in the middle of the night.

“Not really. I’m outside, can you let me in,” you start to cry again.

“Yeah.”

Moments later he opens the door quickly. He’s just in a pair of boxer briefs. He must have been in bed already.

“I’m sorry,” you say as tears slide down your cheek.

He doesn’t say anything. He takes your hand leading you into his apartment he shares with Chan and Seokmin.

He shut the door, locking it. He hesitates for a moment before he rests his hand on your cheek and gently wipes away your tears.

“I told him I’m done. He came home after midnight with lipstick stained on his collar. I don’t wanna do this anymore. He doesn’t love me and I can’t love him anymore. I don't love him anymore.” You lean into his touch.

“I’m glad you left him. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. You’re sorry for so many things. You know he cares for you and that he probably has always romantically liked you for a while just like you have. And no matter what you do you hurt him in one way or another.

“Stop saying that. You have nothing to apologize to me for.” He gives you a gentle smile.

“Can we go to your room? I don’t want to bother the boys. It’s already so late and I already woke you up.”

Reaching down he takes your hand in his for the first time and leads you to his room. He shuts the door and releases your hand. “Would you mind if I stayed with you tonight?”

“Of course you can stay here.” You’ve never been so happy you stormed out of the house in your pajamas. “Did you want me to take the couch?”

“No, I was hoping I could sleep in your bed with you. I just really want to hold your hand.”

He can’t help the smile that tugs on his lips. You crawl under the covers and watch as Vernon turns the light on and crawls into bed next to you. You both lay there facing each other. There is a gap between you. Laying your hand there you want to be close to him. You want him to hold you and to kiss you and tell you you’ll be okay. But that is too much to ask of him.

There is always something about Vernon that he’s always been able to read you. He must notice you’re struggling. He reaches out, taking your hand in his.

“I don’t want to go back to my apartment. I don’t want to live in a building that is haunted with memories of him and I.”

He takes a deep breath squeezing your hand. “You don’t have to. I’ll help you pack your things when he’s gone to work.”

READ THE FULL STORY HERE

[meracyn]

hiii tysm for doing my req!!! mochi anon btw <33 i was trying to send an ask a few days ago but it wouldnt send thru so i hope it does this time 😭 can you write shuichi crush hcs? all fluffy fluff fluff (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠) thank youuuuuuuuu

shuichi crush hc’s ♡

HI LOVELYYYY THANK YOUUU for requesting again!!! and yes yes OFC I CANN these are so cuteeee agghfjgkg it takes me back to the time i was down bad for shuichi chat. guys like him make me go feral asf lmao

GUYS HES A MF FIRETRUCK WITH HOW RED HIS FACE GETS ESPECIALLY SINCE HES PALE ASF IM CRYING

ok now back to being professional, my bad chat

at first, shuichi would probably not realize how he feels—or maybe he does, but tries to deny it. can he actually call it..love? he needs to be sure first, he’s afraid of anything bad happening, or he’s confusing this feeling with another emotion

thinks a lot about it. remembers days such as the day you two met and becoming friends, when all of a sudden his mind wanders off to how it would feel like to hold you in his arms, whisper sweet affirmations in your ear as you stir awake, to kissing you—

wait what? kissing!? boy does his entire face turn red as he’s shocked that his own mind thought of such thing. shuichi breathes a sigh of relief though, knowing that you aren’t near him at the moment, or else it could’ve gotten worse..

tends to stare at you more, paying attention to your small habits and body language, during his (unknowingly) lovesick phase shuichi becomes eager to learn more about you– thinking of ways to court you as you deserve. should he look for help online or ask his friends? somehow, he chose the latter.

“just ask to hook up and once you’re bangin’, say it with pride!” — miu advised while laughing

“i don’t know. why did you ask me?” — with a deadpanned expression, maki said

after asking more around (that’s a lie, he got too embarrassed to ask others and went straight to his bro, his last hope) kaito was the only one who had a good idea. what was it?

“you don’t need to do anything big to impress them, shuichi. talk to y/n and ask them out on a date, if you can’t say it out loud, write it on a note and put it in their locker, if they agree, make sure they have a good time and bam! confess”

aka the ultimate yapper

it takes him a while to gather the courage to ask you out, but shuichi has no rush—he’s content with just having this little (massive. that’s what she said) crush on you. he’s the type to giggle n shit if you ever compliment him or just pay attention to him in general

writes down notes about you– with things he wishes to say one day

[thevegandarkelf]

QOTU: The Debrief

Summary: Immediately following her first encounter with Scud, a giddy and giggly Vec shows up back at her and her bestie's shared apartment. Despite their impending early mornings, our gals embark on an evening that's become a regular occurrence throughout their friendship--the debrief.

My second installment in the 'Quarters of the Undead' AU with @dixons-sunshine is here! This will give y'all a real insight into Vec and Georgie's friendship, and I think it encompasses their dynamic perfectly. I hope you love them as much as we do <3

Word count: 3.7k

CW for swearing, small allusions to sexual themes but no smut, alcohol consumption, MDNI

AO3 link

Puling into the parking lot of their shared apartment, Vec found her favorite spot, claiming it for herself. After putting her car in park, she rubbed her cheeks, the muscles stiff and aching. The massive, stupid grin on her face never faded, not even for a moment, during the duration of her commute home. Nor did it fade as she made her way inside, returning to the familiar warmth and comforting feeling of the apartment complex she and Georgie called home.

After stepping off the elevator, Vec was nearly skipping down the hallway, an extra pep in her step as she bounded through their front door. The scent of curry powder and turmeric greeted her the moment she stepped in. Georgie was still awake, cleaning up the kitchen, wiping down a glass dish she’d just finished hand-washing. Normally, she would’ve been asleep hours ago, but given the situation with Vec picking up her car from a stranger, she stayed awake in case of an emergency. Plus, she was far too eager to hear about her best friend’s evening to think about sleep. Vec had hardly taken her shoes off before the questions began.

“So…what’s this ‘something good’ that happened?” she inquired, setting the dish she’d been drying off on the counter.

“Well hello to you too,” Vec greeted. She set her hospital shoes to the side of the door, taking her lanyard and hanging it on the small hook on the wall, along with her badge. “How was your day?”

Georgie folded her arms across her chest, raising her eyebrows and giving her best friend “the look.” The look that meant there was no more bullshitting around and it was time to get down to business. “Dia…”

Vec mimicked her, crossing her arms over her chest and giving her the same look, eliciting a laugh from the teacher. “Ginny…”

“That can wait. You need to tell me what happened.”

The face of the woman Georgie called Dia contorted into a mischievous smirk, despite her putting forth the utmost effort to maintain her poker face. Though she was good at preventing her emotions from bubbling over, she certainly wore them all over her face. “The mechanic that stayed behind so I could get my car…”

That statement alone made Georgie’s ears perk up. “Uh huh…?”

“He was real cute.” Vec bit her bottom lip, the mischievous smirk warping into a giddy smile as blood rushed to her cheeks, that familiar baby pink that said mechanic had gotten to see earlier in the night making an appearance for Georgie.

“Knowing you, I take it you dished out some flirting?” The doctor nodded, and her next sentence was the best response Georgie could’ve hoped for.

“And he dished it right back.”

The smile that broke out on Georgie’s face was blinding, bright enough to light the whole city block. Grabbing her phone off the kitchen counter, she gestured to a nearby cabinet. “Break open the wine. We’re doing the debrief.”

Over the course of their friendship, they’d had many sessions they canonically referred to as “the debrief.” It all started in high school after Vec had a first date that turned sour. To cope, she sulked over to Georgie’s and sobbed for hours, as in her 15-year-old mind, her life was over. Now, after every date, hook up, each time one of them met a guy, etc., they’d break open a fresh bottle of wine and order a pizza, talking late into the night, early morning alarm clocks be damned.

“You sure you wanna do it now?” Vec asked, clenching her jaw to stifle a yawn. Despite her question, she stepped into the kitchen, taking a bottle of merlot from the cabinet Georige had blindly gestured toward and resting it on the counter. “It’s already getting late. I have to be up at 5, you have to be up early too. We can do it tomorrow.”

Georgie had already began dialing the nearest pizza shop, having taken a random flyer of coupons off the counter and making a mental note of which ones she could use. She wasn’t taking no for an answer. “You know it’s been over a year since I’ve gotten laid. This isn’t a want, it’s a need. Now do you want your usual pizza toppings?”

Vec stared at her in adoration. She’d always considered herself lucky to be able to call someone like Georgie her best friend. It was in these moments, though, that she was extra grateful. “God, I love you.”

“Love you too. Now I’m sure you wanna get out of your scrubs,” Georgie figured, giving her a soft smile and holding her phone to her ear as it began ringing, “I’ll pour the wine.”

“Only one. You know how much of lightweight I am,” Vec reminded. Georgie snickered and nodded. As if there was any way she could forget how much of a lightweight Vec was. In all their years of friendship, she’d only seen Vec get drunk a couple of times. Both of those instances started with one strong mixed drink that had her head spinning so fast, she couldn’t stand on her own two feet without assistance.

When it arrived, Georgie placed both the box of pizza and their two glasses of wine on their coffee table, grabbing a towel and tossing it next to the box to use as a napkin. Normally, there would’ve been plates as well, but not for the debriefs. The debriefs didn’t require plates. They only required a cheap, greasy pizza in a flimsy cardboard box, sub-par quality wine, and somewhere comfortable to relax.

Vec plopped down on the couch next to her, now wearing a matching black set, the soft cotton encapsulating her in its warmth, a warmth her scrubs could never mimic. Rolling up her sleeves, she nearly scarfed down a slice of pizza in two bites, having forgotten until moments before that she hadn’t eaten since that morning. The life of an ER doctor, she would often blame it on. Georgie couldn’t help but chuckle a little at her at she grabbed a slice of her own.

“Alright, babe,” Georgie demanded, resting back against the decorative pillow in the corner of the couch to get comfortable, “debrief me.”

Vec covered her mouth as she finished chewing her food. “Ok, so I’m driving to work this morning, and I’m coming up to the stoplight near the hospital. You know, that one big intersection you go through on the way?” Georgie nodded, taking a sip of her wine as she did. Anyone who drove down the main road to the hospital was well acquainted with the large intersection Vec was referring to.

“So my car just stops. Starts making that clicking noise like when the battery’s dead and you try turning it on.” She gulped back some of her wine before continuing her story, the flavor combination of fermented grapes and pizza sauce creating an unpleasant bitter taste on her tongue. However, she was too wrapped up in her excitement to care. “A random person helps me jumpstart my car so I can at least get down the road to this rinky dink auto shop.”

“Aww, that’s sweet,” Georgie gushed. Though it wasn’t the focus of the story, she was eternally grateful for the stranger that helped her bestie in such a tight and strenuous situation. Being a good samaritan herself, as Vec had put it, she had a soft spot for fellow ones.

“I know! I hardly had the chance to thank them. I was too busy have a stress-cry in the car when I got there.” She scooped another slice from the box with a sense of urgency, as if the mention of her stress-cry reminded her of how little food she’d had. She took a bite before setting it back on the edge of the box, using it as a pseudo-plate. “So I’m at the counter, the guy’s getting my info, all that jazz. Y’know, the usual. And that’s when I see him off in the corner.” She blindly pointed to a random corner of their apartment, not taking her eyes off Georgie for even a second. “And Gin, when I tell you I almost started drooling.”

Georgie wiggled in her spot on the couch, pretending to adjust her position. “I’m on the edge of my seat.”

“I asked the manager who the cutie with the bandana is,” Vec explained. She swirled her wine glass in her hand, carefully as to not let the red liquid slosh over the top, lest they have to deal with a wine stain on the couch, or worse, the carpet.

“Wow,” Georgie scoffed, slightly wide-eyed with a cheeky grin on her face.

“Don’t act like you haven’t heard me say much more forward things before,” Vec laughed.

“Touche,” Georgie replied with a nod, the tone of her voice very matter-of-fact.

“So I ask him, and he tells me the guy’s name is Josh and he’s a bit of a wildcard.”

“Sounds like he’s already perfect for you.”

“That’s what I thought!”

“So this ‘cutie with the bandana,’” Georgie inquired, “what’s he look like?”

“Like a sleazy, futuristic emo,” Vec gushed, drawing her words out and rolling her eyes as a giggle threatened to slip into her voice.

“So very much your type?” Georgie teased. Vec had often described her type has “musicians covered in tattoos who could finger a guitar…and that’s about it.” Really, anyone alternative, even slightly out of the norm of polos and sports jerseys and khakis, was her type.

“He’s a little taller than me, shaggy brown hair, hence why he had the bandana to keep it out of his eyes. High cheekbones, the cutest little button nose I have ever seen, and these absolutely stunning blue eyes that I just...” her voice trailed off, as did her gaze, staring blankly at some random object in the kitchen over Georgie’s shoulder.

Georgie couldn’t help but giggle at her best friend. Vec hardly knew the guy, and it seemed she was already enamored. She snapped her fingers in front of Vec’s face, hoping to bring her out of the clouds and back down to reality. “Earth to Dia? You in there, babe?”

Vec shook her head and blinked rapidly before meeting Georgie’s gaze, realizing what she’d just been doing. “Christ, sorry,” she apologized, running a hand through her long black tresses. She could’ve blamed it on her long and strenuous day, sure. But they both knew that would be an outright lie, and Vec was no liar.

“So you asked about him?” Georgie questioned in an attempt to redirect their conversation back to the matter at hand.

Vec nodded. “Yeah, and then I had to leave since I was already running late. I almost just went up to him and gave him my number, but he was at work and something just felt icky about cornering him like that, y’know?”

“Good call.” Georgie held up what remained of her slice of pizza in affirmation before taking the last bite.

“So I finish work late, as you know, and the manager must’ve been there late because he calls me, like, a little after 8:30, tells me one of his guys offered to stay so I could get my car.”

Georgie held a finger up as she took another sip of wine, allowing for enough of a pause for her to take a guess. There was no wondering on her part, though. There would be no story if the answer wasn’t what she was predicting. “The cutie with the bandana.”

“Look at you guessing the plot twist,” Vec complimented, briefly tilting her glass in Georgie’s direction, “so I walk to the auto shop, and sure enough, there he is. And guess what he says when he opens the door?”

“The anticipation is killing me.” Georgie shifts in her spot once more as she takes another slice of pizza from the grease-laced box.

“‘Cutie with the bandana at your service,’” Vec quoted.

Georgie covered her mouth, eyes fully widened in shock. Had she not just taken a bite of food, her jaw would’ve been on the floor. “No! They told him?”

“They told him!” Vec yelled, catching herself and lowering her volume before she continued, “so of course I’m flustered as hell, apologizing so fast I almost can’t even get a proper sentence out. But he just starts dishing the flirting right back. He asks me about my nickname, I asked him about his. He said his friends call him Scud.”

“Like ‘stud’?” Georgie questioned, cocking an eyebrow as she sipped at her wine again.

“That’s literally what I said!” Vec exclaimed as she shifted her legs and leaned back against the couch.

“So why’d he change it?”

“Dunno. Never got to ask.”

“Maybe he realized he wasn’t one and didn’t want to get any hopes up for the ladies,” Georgie teased. It elicited an eye roll from her best friend, and she was met with a quick rebuttal.

“Well this lady’s got more than just her hopes up." She gave herself an up-down with her pointer finger, as if there could have been anyone else beside her that was the lady in question. “He’s certainly a stud to me.”

The teacher sighed before leaning forward and placing a reassuring hand on her best friend’s knee. “Babe, I love you…so much…but this would not be the first time you’ve made a false assumption like that.”

“Speaking of false assumptions, he assumed I was a nurse because of my scrubs,” Vec continued, ignoring Georgie’s cheeky critique. She knew it was all in good fun though. Georgie could certainly poke fun when she wanted to, but she was never mean on purpose.

Georgie made a ’tchps’ sound, sucking air in through her teeth in discontent. “Oof, not again,” she sighed, “didn’t the last one do that?”

“The last several have done that,” Vec corrected. There was annoyance in her voice for only a brief moment before falling back into the high-pitched, silly tone of a 13-year-old girl who’d just developed her first serious crush. “Poor thing looked terrified when I explained I was actually a doctor, like he thought he just fucked up big time.”

Vec sipped at her merlot as an arrogant, uncharacteristic of her, grin spread from ear-to-ear. “He was quickly reassured after I, uh…gave him a note. May have put my number on it. Guess what he said when I asked if he was off the market.”

“That he’s…on the market?” Georgie guessed. That had to be the answer. Why else would Vec be bringing it up? But given the implication that this seemed to be a noteworthy detail, there had to be more, Georgie thought.

“That he’s been on the market a while and was ’surprised someone like myself is too.’”

“Oh my God!”

“And of course, I’m turning fifty different shades of pink and red the whole time, which only gets worse when he asks me about it!”

“He did not!”

“He did! He was all like ‘you do that a lot, don’t you?’ so I tried to play dumb to see if he’d drop it, but of course he didn’t or I wouldn’t be telling you about it, now would I?” She began rapidly patting Georgie’s knee with her hand, fighting for her life to keep the volume of her voice under control. “And then he said it was cute and to keep it up!”

“I’m loving the fact that he was dishing the flirting back as hard as you were,” Georgie gushed, unphased by her best friend’s antics, “he’s already matching your freak so well.”

“I know! So we finish up, he walks me back to my car, and I gush about how lovely it was to meet him and how I hope to hear from him sooner rather than later. I get in my car, he goes back in, and not two minutes later, guess what happens?”

“Umm, I’m guessing—“

Vec cut her off, unable to contain the excitement bubbling over in her chest and off her tongue. “He calls me and says ‘you said soon, this soon enough?’”

That smile—the same one that plastered Georgie’s face earlier, the one that initiated the debrief—returned once again. “That’s way better than anything I could’ve guessed.”

The surgeon holds a hand to her head, thumb and pinky extended, representing a phone. “So I tell him I’ll text him in the morning since I have to be up at 5, and he goes ‘I expect no later than 5:15.”

“He’s obsessed with you.”

“Well, the feeling’s mutual. Ginny, call me thirsty because I need this man like water.”

Georgie set her glass down to grab another slice from the box, using one hand to hold it with the other hovering underneath to catch any crumbs. “So what else do you know about him?”

“Nothing, really. I know he’s smokin’. I know I’d like to get to know him.” She continued as she sipped at her merlot again, momentarily averting her gaze to the inside of her glass. “And I know all the things I’d like him to do to me.”

“Given how flirty he was, I bet he’s skilled in the bedroom,” Georgie replied, giving Vec a playful nudge in the shoulder. That time, even Georgie’s cheeks were turning a light pink, matching her best friends as their eyes met, a string of giggles flowing off their tipsy lips.

“Oh, definitely.”

A vibration on the coffee table catches the attention of both women. Upon seeing the screen lit up, Vec reaches for her phone, the lock screen revealing a message from an unsaved number. Scanning it with her eyes, a big, stupid grin crept onto her lips. “Hmm…speak of the devil, and he doth appear, even if only virtually.”

“Did he text you?” Georgie’s grin was nearly as big as Vec’s.

“He did.” Vec’s pale complexion changed from pink to rosy red within a matter of seconds.

Georgie scooted closer to her best friend, resting her chin on her shoulder to be able to read the message from this mysterious ‘cutie with the bandana.’ “Well, don’t keep it all to yourself now. What did he say?”

“He said ‘Guess who? I know you said you’d text me in the AM, but I wanted to ask if you got home safe.’” Vec’s smile stretched from ear-to-ear, and her flushed cheeks were already beginning to ache.

“Aww!” Georgie’s heart swelled in her chest, expanding against her ribcage, as if it was even capable of growing any bigger. She already had “the biggest heart of anyone literally ever,” as her best friend had often told her. “Look at him! He’s hardly stopped thinking about you!”

Vec held her hand up, eyes remaining glued to her phone. “Wait, he’s sending more.” Biting her bottom lip, she waited with bated breath, reading his next message almost immediately. “‘You were really bold, and I like that. I’d love to get to know you’ with a winky face.”

“You have to respond,” Georgie encouraged. She left her spot on the couch only for a brief moment, stepping into the kitchen to fill two glasses with water. The debrief sessions were a must, but so was hydration.

Vec set down her phone and removed her glasses, rubbing sleep from her eyes as she yawned, unable to fight the exhaustion of her chaotic day off any longer. “I mean, like he said, I told him I’d text him in the morning. I don’t know how much longer I’m gonna make it.”

“At least let him know you got home safe,” Georgie insisted. Waltzing back from the kitchen and taking Vec’s phone, she shoved it back into her hand, she gave it a light tap. “Don’t let the poor thing be worrying about you all night.”

A soft sigh escaping her nose, she nodded. “Ok. How about ‘Sure did…’” her voice briefly trailed off as she peeled her eyes from her phone to meet Georgie’s gaze again. “Do I do a smiley face or a winky face?”

“I feel like you have to wink back,” she replied, giving Vec’s shoulder a gentle nudge with hers, followed by a smirk, “you’re bold, remember?”

“This is why I keep you around,” Vec smiled, returning the nudge to Georgie’s shoulder, “ok, so ‘sure did’ with the winky face, then ‘I look forward to getting to know you too.’” As she finished typing out her initial response, a potentially genius idea struck her. “Wait, I have more! ‘I’ve been told you’re a bit of a wildcard. Are you ready to meet your match?’”

“You’re such a flirt, you gotta teach me how you do that.”

“Practice, babe. Lots and lots of practice. And making a fool of myself on more than occasion.” Glancing back at her phone, another message came through, her eyes scanning over it before her brain had even registered the vibration. “Ginny…”

She stared at her over the brim of her wine glass, eyes filled to the brim with curiosity. “What?”

Vec’s cheeks turned that sweet baby pink once again. “He said ‘I think I can handle you’ with another winky face.”

“Whoa!” the teacher cried out, “he’s as bold as you are. He really did meet his match.”

Vec held her hand up again, indicating that another series of messages were incoming. She read them off to Georgie as soon as they came through. “’Btw, for selfish reasons, I’m really glad your car battery died today.’” Vec turned to Georgie, giving her a cocky smile and a shrug. “Me too.”

Her phone vibrated in her hand again, this message having her snickering and turning bright red. “Oh my God.”

“What? What did he say?” Georgie was practically begging. Sure, Vec blushed very easily, and very frequently, but if she was turning beet red, it had to be good.

Vec rolled her eyes so hard, they almost did a 360, the giggly scoff that emanated from her chest vibrating across her ribcage. “He asked if I saved him in my phone as ‘cutie with the bandana’.”

Georgie echoed Vec’s giggly scoff. Supposedly cute, friendly, and a good sense of humor? She was certainly beginning to understand why her bestie was so quickly infatuated with this ‘cutie with the bandana.’ “He’s not going to let up on that one, is he?” 

Vec gulped back the rest of her wine, setting the empty glass on the coffee table as a string of flirty, amused giggles trickled from her lips. “Not a chance.”

Vec belongs to me

Georgie belongs to @dixons-sunshine

QOTU taglist: @ripleyswife @gothic-pumpkin @weirdoneattheparty @holdmytesseract

General taglist: @raddydaddydude @lovenormandixon @angeldemoncrowley @negansbestie

You can reach out to either myself or Krys to be added to/removed from the taglist :)

Banner and divider were also made by Krys

© thevegandarkelf & dixons-sunshine. We do not consent to our work being copied, shared, translated, adapted, or posted on any other platforms without our explicit consent and proof of said consent.

[cherrysnax]

oh yeah we were also wondering why we flock to media with dead kids that haunt the narrative both figuratively and literally and uh :) yeah we know why

[tetzoro]

the day the earth stood still is the day i felt your presence leave it, and then every day after that.

[hallowclave]

What a whimsical looking young man I wonder if he has received any job offers recently

Original photo

[allmyandroids]

Raymond Reddington

In Season 4 Episode 2 - Mato

[greasydumbfuck]

watched the 2004 punisher movie yesterday with pixie and honestly i had fun 👍 some stuff was good some stuff was eh some completely irrelevant stuff made me mildly annoyed. but most of all it was funny and they had frank hang around with his tits out for multiple scenes so i mean how could i not have a great time tbh

[sparky-is-spiders]

Y’know the whole “Peter and Elias are constantly marrying and divorcing” thing well consider: Jonpeter on-again off-again toxic affair.

[skid-the-mighty-poet]

[neverendingford]

.

[hearts4pearlescentmoon]

I need to do to sleep, so naturally, I will be drawing

[cherry-treelane]

Three boys, jeering, examining all four of us girls. They look at me. They grin and say that without a doubt, I "rank the highest"— as if I am an object, a shiny car, a celluloid aphrodisical, designed to be judged. They say that I am the best-looking. My father's voice interrupts the stream of my self-critical inner monologue to cackle in opposition. I open my mouth to defend my girlfriends, yet all of them nod in agreement and chime in, saying that they completely agree. None of them contradict the boys. None of them seem offended. The shock tears into my insides. You're all blind, I want to say, blind and foolish.

Wake up, I scream

You don't see what lies beneath these clothes of mine,

What swims beneath my skin (The beating yet broken heart, the dysfunctional organs, the to-hell-and-back-and-hell-again spine, the either too full or too empty stomach)

You don't know me.

you don't know that im not beautiful at all. not really.

I whisper to my friend, claim that they wouldn't say that if they saw my body. She insists that my body is beautiful and slim and enviable, and all I can think is that, my mother said the same thing when I wasn't eating so do you want me sadder? My father wants me happier— regardless of whether its real or not. He doesn't care either way. I think he'd prefer if it was fake.

A plate of food in front of me.

Eat it, my father says

Spit it out, my mother says

They disagree. They turn on eachother. They fight. The cacophony clouds my ears.

When it is over, when they're done, I tuck them both into their separate beds and listen to their troubles regarding the other. When I tell them about my own grievances, both of them fall asleep. I leave and clean the broken glass on the floor with my bare hands, ignoring the blood that protests at this, and tuck myself into bed with tears down my face, staining my pillow and mixing with the red.

You tell me I'm the most beautiful you've seen and when I oppose you beg me to tell you why

I shrug my shoulders, I don't know what to say (I'll give away too much if I do)

You should meet my father, he'll tell you if you give him all day and all night

After all, I was raised to be this way. Raised to believe every other girl was more pleasing to the eye than I. Raised to believe I should always look to them for inspiration, that I'd never be the inspiration myself.

[moonlit-orchid]

good evening to everyone except a certain few fucking anons