#even as i was on my way running a bit late to spin class it felt nice talking to him and again felt like we could talk longer lol

[icantalk710]

Happy to report that spin🚲 class [and the subsequent leg day 🦵🏽😤] did in fact break several sweats (ft mooooon)

[nnight-dances]

CASUAL

PAIRING: karina x fem!reader

GENRE: fluff, angst, smut (explicit, but not too much?)

TROPES: fwb to lovers except you're roommates and best friends, unrequited love but not really.

LISTEN TO: casual by chappell roan

NOTE: i may be having a bit of a military wife moment rn but i'm still a sapphic at heart yearning for something more... my first gay fic i've posted on this account yay! cannot reveal if ive been in a similar situation but you could say this is based on real life! whose life, i will not say. hope u enjoy and stay safe everyone <3

knee-deep in the [twin bed] and you're eating me out

you want to say you're in control when it happens, but you'd be a big fat liar if you did. truth be told, karina had you wrapped around her finger since she moved in. (in more ways than one, if you catch my drift.) 

you met her late freshman year in college when you shared a gender studies course with her – which alone would've been enough of a clue to which ways she swings, if not for the black leather jacket and unnecessary amount of rings she wore to class. she'd sat next to you the first week in and approached you after class. "this class is a bore," she said as a matter-of-factly, "wanna get coffee with me?" 

you'd agreed because you were mesmerized (even though secretly, that was the favorite course you took that year) and followed her into a cafe, letting her sweet talk you into all kinds of things from there. she had a big friend group which welcomed you generously when they found out you were friends with karina and eventually, that became your everyday life. 

you worked on papers sincerely while karina watched you with an unreadable glint (maybe it was unreadable, maybe you didn't want to read too much into it), swirling her untouched coffee. eventually one day, she asked you, "wanna be roommates next year?" 

that was karina. easy-going and confident. she didn't hesitate to ask you to do things with her, even if they were often bending the boundaries of what friends could do. exhibit a: she'd asked you to make out with her at a party just so she could shake off a creep. in general, she was touchier than the normal person, finding a way to cup your stomach under your shirt when you weren't looking. you get the idea. 

that's how when she moves into the same room as you sophomore year, you lost all sense of self and reality. you have to thank your mom who convinced you to arrive on campus a day earlier than most, so you could settle in without the bothersome crowd. 

you're in the middle of fixing a poster of your favorite band, the strokes, in the wall when she lets herself in with a, "you're already here, jagiya!" you almost lose your footing on your chair in order to face her, heart already a fluttering mess thanks to her shameless flirting. 

"karina!" you call out, thrilled to see your friends, complications aside. you step down carefully before throwing yourself in her waiting arms. "you're here earlier than i thought."

she pulls away with a devilish grin, "missed you too much so i came early." she looks around the room, "i see you've already made this place home."

you smile, unsettled by the way she's still holding you in her arms, your bodies attached at the hip as she takes in her home for the next year. she smells like she always does: like grapefruit and spicy cedar. you feel relaxed in her embrace, taking in her appearance. she's wearing a cropped tank with a large flannel that slips off her shoulder thanks to the heavy tote she carries.

with a sigh, you take the tote off her. "your hair grew longer," you comment as you place the bag on her desk. karina does a little spin for you, giving a full view of the wavy locks that came all the way to her navel. it only made her that much more charming (you couldn't resist wanting to know what it would feel like to run your fingers through them). 

you watch as karina lugs all her stuff into the room, refusing your help with a strict look. "can't have you spraining something already, jagiya," she quips and that's all it takes for you to sit back obediently. she takes off her flannel, letting you take in her arms. was it just you or did her biceps get bigger? (it wasn't just you. karina spent her summer the gym rat way.)

"you barely have any stuff…" you murmur mindlessly when she's nearly done in half an hour. for reference, it took you three whole hours for two days to set your stuff in place.

"you just have a lot of stuff," karina laughs, closing her closet with a satisfied clap. "thoughts on ordering in for din'?"

you raise a brow, "shouldn't we at least go see if everyone's back?"

she shrugs, "we can just go after we eat." she approaches your bed, resting her forearms next to you. "come on, i don't feel like eating that prison food just yet."

despite karina's exaggeration (your dining hall makes perfectly edible food), you let karina order for you. who are you kidding? the thought of sharing a meal with your newly established roommate in your new room on your first day together… it was sweet, you had to admit. so you give in and tell karina exactly what toppings you want on your bowl. 

but where you had expected to bond in all kinds of cozy ways with karina, the night quickly an unexpected turn. you're not sure how it happens but you end up caged under karina's body on your bed. her hot breath is hitting your face, "you got even prettier over the summer, huh?"

her words make it harder to think. to think about how this your best friend slash roommate slash the person you would do anything for. fuck, it's too late and you're too helpless when it comes to her. karina's already sliding her hand down your stomach, eliciting a mewl of her name from your throat. 

she looks pleased, chesire grin lighting up her face when she reaches your panties. "mhm, karina–" you claw at her shoulder when a cold finger meets your slick folds. she kisses your cheek and then your mouth, so strong that you can't do anything but hold her closer to your chest till she's ripping a scream from you. 

"karina, what are we doing?" you cry out, still coming down from your orgasm. what the fuck, this not a situation to be with your roommate.

"what?" she whispers, lips attached to your neck without a care in the world, "i'm just doing what i've been wanting to all summer."

"okay, that's enough," you push her off until you're both sat. you're breathless so it doesn't help the gravity of the glare you hold karina captive under. she sits back on her palms, eyes hooded. 

"we're friends," you start and sensing the protest rising in her, you hold up a hand, "and roommates. you know what they say about that, don't you?"

"don't shit where you eat," she deadpans, "but i don't care. i'm not shitting anywhere. i like you, you like me. that's why we're friends. if we want to fuck around a little, what's the big deal?"

you contain a scoff at how unbothered she is. at the same time, her words stab you in the heart, the subtle friendzoning nature of them not going unnoticed (that's why we're friends? what if you wanted to be more?)

"listen, jagiya," karina shifts dangerously closer, a thumb wiping away the sweat on your lip. "it's chill. we don't have to if you don't want to. but i'll tell you right now; i want to do things with you."

"things?" you breathe even though you know you shouldn't fall into her trap.

"yeah," she caresses your cheek, licking her lips, "want to kiss you. make you come. that sort of thing."

you fall against her weakly, feeling the soft strands of her hair envelope you like a dream. with your eyes closed, all you can feel is warmth of her body and none of the cold of her words (kiss, fuck, chill. no love.) 

"only if you let me eat you out, too," you finally murmur against her skin. feel her shake with laughter.

"thought you'd never ask."

you wake up in karina's arms. she'd dozed off in your bed as if hers wasn't two hops away. the thoughts makes you flushed (despite everything) and you turn around to face her. she's still asleep, peaceful as ever. you trace the mole below her lips, envious of how little she was attached to you.

not to drown yourself in self-pity, you had always been too attached to karina for your own good. a week into being friends with her, you would jump at a text from her, dropping everything to meet at her the cafe she had wanted to try or to help her get ready for a party. 

but it wasn't without reason. she was sweet to you, genuinely. karina sensed your moods smoothly, knowing when your silence was more than comfortable and when your drunk crying meant you were actually upset over something. she listened to you, no matter how little you claimed the problem to be, her reliable shoulder always yours when you were in trouble.

so you couldn't blame the butterflies in your stomach at waking up with her. right?

"we never made it to meeting our friends," karina mumbles through a yawn later. you're both in the middle of getting ready for the day, thankfully still a grace day before classes start. 

"you clearly had other plans," you purse your lips in the mirror, working on fixing a bump in your hair. stupid karina and her arm under your head all night. 

she comes up behind you with a playful smile, taking the brush from your hands to rake it through your hair herself. "you say that like you didn't have fun," she says. she brings your hair into a bun, taking a hairtie off her wrist to secure it in place. patting your head with eyes on you in the mirror, "there. you look cute."

you heave a deep sigh at the motions that stir up at her actions, sliding away to pretend to busy yourself with your bag. "we should go meet them today," you say, "or they might declare us dead."

"definitely," karina laughs.

meeting your friends helps you a little. maybe it's because you're seeing them after so long or maybe it's just the fact that you have normal friend feelings for them. but it's nice, you can lose yourself in a nonsense conversation with seungkwan about your recently acquired obsessions with various mobile games.

he's in the middle of offering to show you his brand-new coffee machine when karina shouts, "guys! gather up! minjeongie is driving us to get ice-cream! on her!"

you spot the short blonde attacks on karina at the presumably false declaration. your rommate dodges well, bent in a fit of laughter at minjeong's tantrum. "okay, i lied! everyone buy your own ice-cream."

as it turns out, minjeong's car is definitely not big enough to fit all 8 of your friends. "looks like we're fighting it out the fairest way," seowon declares, readying her fist for rock paper scissors. 

"since only five of us can go," karina starts, somehow finding her way next to your side. you shiver when her hands clasps yours. "minjeong, y/n, and i are definitely going."

you watch in shock as everyone wreaks havoc at her words. "now why would we allow that–"

"see, it's technically just two seats taken," she explains calmly, "y/n's sitting on my lap anyway." you gape at her audacity as she holds up your intertwined hands, like a wedding announcement.

you try to weasel out of her grip, mumbling, "that's fine. i don't really want to go–"

"what? of course you do," karina's hand tightens and you curse her strength, "you love ice-cream, jagiya. come on. let's go."

your friends seem dubious of the interaction but with a few statements along the lines of they're in their honeymoon phase as roomies, they return to the rock-paper-scissors battle at hand, now the stakes reduced to four seats now. 

"calling shotgun by the way!" karina calls as she pulls you after. you don't know what to say honestly, overwhelmed by her hand in yours. you had expected her to pretend things were the same as always but clearly not: you had never gone as far to sit in her lap with your friends around (alone was a different story. but you swear you'd only ended up in her lap because she'd wanted to hug you through your breakup with your ex.) 

"karina, you're crazy," you tell her, finally shaking your hand free. you cross your arms and karina simply takes a chug of water from the brita in geum's minifridge. 

"why? because i volunteered my lap so we'd get to go?"

before you can really give her a piece of your mind, minjeong interrupts. "looks like they figured out the winners. we're leaving in the next five minutes or the offer's off the table."

– 

two weeks and your mom invites me to [lunch]

"y/n, it's so nice to see you again," karina's mom is saying, sliding a menu toward you. thanksgiving week was around which meant parents were abundant on campus these days. it also meant your own mom couldn't make it because she was swamped with work, no thanks to her job as an on-field reporter. 

"of course, you've lost so much weight since we last met, eommeoni," you smile.

this is fine for the most part of it. you genuinely enjoy karina's mom's company. she's kind and sincere, always bringing a gift for you along with karina and treating you like her own. but this time around it's different because it's the first time you've been sleeping with her daughter.

in fact, just that morning, karina had kept you in bed longer than usual, complaining because you had gone to bed earlier than usual. it had been part of your plan to keep your conscience clean for when you met her mother, to make sure you didn't lose her respect. but being the nefarious idiot she was, karina had crawled up your torso, eyes going sweet at you, "please, just once?"

so now you had a dirtier conscience than usual, having been panting in karina's lap just hours before this lunch. 

but even if you tried to maintain composure in front of her mom, karina made it impossible. she slid close to your shoulder, hand splayed across your bare thigh (curse you and your decision to wear your sundress out today). it's honestly harmless and even excusable as a friendly gesture, but ever so occassionally, her hand climbs up, reaching closer and closer to a position that was far from appropriate.

"so tell me, do you two have any classes together this semester?" karina's mom asks you between mouthfuls of rice. you take the chance to peel karina's hand off but it ends up at your knee like a magnet. 

"not really," karina answers easily as if unaware of the power struggle going under the table. probably because she was winning by a mile. 

"i told karina she should take an elective with me but she refused," you complain, deciding if this was the way you could hit back then so be it.

"i think you forgot to mention it was an economics elective," she corrects you, hand basically clawing at your inner thight by now. you shift uneasily and karina's mom laughs.

"you know jimin," she shakes her head, "she doesn't take the serious courses. only painting all day long."

"eomma," karina groans, "how many times do i have to tell you? it's not just painting. i'm an arts major. that's like the second hardest major at this school."

"really? what's the hardest major?" (the only right question for a mother to ask.)

the rest of the lunch goes by quickly, fortunately for you. you're the first out the door, eager to put some distance between you and karina. you pretend to fan yourself out of the hot mess she's made of you.

"i have to say," karina's mom says as she gets ready to leave, "you two seem to have gotten closer since you started rooming together."

"really?" karina wonders as if clueless to the arm around your shoulder, where it had been the whole walk back to campus from the restaurant. (insufferable, you whisper to her. cute, she accuses you.)

"thanks for sticking next to her, y/n. who knows where my little girl would be without you?"

you brush of karina's mom's words of flattery, not voicing the thoughts that arise. where would i be without your daughter? 

– 

i know what you tell [our] friends

imagining a life without karina becomes terribly real when it becomes clear to you that karina truly has no intentions of treating as anything more than a friend who she sleeps with and not just as roommates. 

it's a cold slap of reality that you finally feel one day when you're eating with minjeong and seungkwan. karina's next to you, like she so often is, hand on your elbow for no good reason.

"so everyone's been wondering…" minjeong starts to say and seungkwan shoots her a glare, realizing where this was going.

"...are you two a thing?" she points to the point of contact between you and karina.

"what?" you squeak, pulling away at the call-out. but your mind goes blank, all the excuses you had practiced in your head deserting you. you had expected someone to catch on sooner or later, but somehow right now all you can think of is how you already miss karina's touch. i'm in love with her, it occurs to you to say. (wait, you love her? you wonder distantly as if the answer hadn't been crystal clear the minute she crossed lines with you.)

karina shrugs, "we're fucking. but it's casual. no attachment or anything." she adds with an arm around you, "just girls being girls, right?"

you muster out a laugh to agree with her, ignoring the concerned look seungkwan pins you with. minjeong seems convinced though, "no way! you're sleeping together? i guess it must be convenient… you live together."

"yeah, you could say that," this time it's you responding, swallowing the tremble in your throat. you'd rather die than let karina get a whiff of your true feelings. you stand up.

 "it's easy." it's the hardest. "not a big deal." you thought about it every waking second. "i have class now though. see you guys later." 

you did not have class. you ran to the nearest bathroom stall to lock yourself in and let out the sobs that had been threatening your system for the past three weeks. you make sure nobody can hear you and then wipe your tears with the spare tissues you carry in your bag. 

you leave, hoping nobody notices your red eyes. 

that night, you go to your room later than usual, counting on karina to be asleep. you should know better though because she's up, in nothing but her night shorts, sitting on your bed. 

it almost frustrates you for a moment, the sight of her curled up so comfortably on your bed like you were lovers. but you weren't. you weren't even close. but she perks up like maybe you are, calling out your name sweetly, "you're so late today. is everything okay?"

"yeah," you say, not making eye-contact for too long as you rest your bag on your desk. you contemplate leaving the room just so you didn't have to feel this hot volcano erupt in your chest. but instead, you undress, aware of karina's unwavering gaze. you make sure to slip off your pants and put on a baggy shirt. no shorts, like karina liked.

"we're a fully dressed person put together," she liked to joke when she'd bring your bodies close. you laughed along but all you wanted was to actually be one person with her. maybe that would justify why you were so attracted to her. 

"come on,," she coos when you jump into bed. "i know something's wrong. your eyes are red. your shoulders heavy."

"can't lie for one second with you, can i?" you sigh into her skin when she hugs you. 

"sorry, jagiya. maybe if i was a man, you could get away with it."

maybe that would make it easier. if one of you was a man. at least then someone would bat an eye at the concept of a no strings attached situationship between best friends. you were practically begging for someone to object to its apparently platonic nature. (you were begging yourself.)

"i didn't even shower," you complain when she explores your bare stomach with her fingers.

"it's fine. we'll just take one in the morning."

she holds you to the promise, waking you up half an hour earlier than usual just so she could drag you into the shower. two girls showering together, a sight nobody would see because it was dead quiet until an hour from now. 

– 

i try to be the chill girl 

you knew it was too good to be true, your friends-with-benefit situation with karina. but now that your feelings are actually catching up to you, you can barely hold in the tears that overwhelm you when you look at her.

then, when you finally decide to suck it up and show up to dinner with your friends, it all goes south. thanks to some dumb group project karina's doing, a guy named taeyong was at your table. you knew him by name from college gossip. he was fit to be the protagonist of a rom-com, nice guy with the looks to go with it and he was friendly, fitting right in with the group of friends. 

bitterly, you reflect on how long it had taken you, in comparison, to warm up to everyone. a month, maybe? plus, he looked perfect next to karina, their unusually good looks matching each other's quality.

you're not the only thinking that because geum pipes up, "you two look good together! when's the wedding?"

seowon hits his arm though most of the people on the table join in laughter. (you don't.) "come on, you can't force it, geum," she says, "they're clearly still getting to know each other."

"so it'll be official in say, a week from now?" minjeong teases, earning herself a blush from taeyong. karina is unruffled but she does smile a little at the teasing comments, side-eyeing the boy next to her.

right. they did look good together. 

much to your discomfort, karina and taeyong only seem to become closer, with the latter frequenting your table at every meal. he assimilated easily with the group, already circulating inside jokes that you were conveniently not a part of.

speaking of which you were circulating a word tornado yourself: casual, no attachement, chill, convenient, easy… not a big deal. as taeyong became a regular with your friends, you became increasingly absent, coming up with excuses to take your meals at much earlier or later hours.

you're officially spiraling, doing your best to avoid karina. but avoiding karina meant avoiding your friends. it was a harsh truth but you came to realize you were only friends with them because of her and if you decided to break things off with her, you'd also end up a loner.

it was a cold, miserable place to be in, your mind. you left your room early and came back late to karina asleep. she'd tried to stay up for your sake a few times but you'd made your arrivals later and later, until she gave up and went to sleep. 

you know you can only avoid her for so long before she caught you and grilled you but for now, you just had to come up with a way to keep yourself occupied. that afternoon, you get a text from her, asking to talk to you after dinner. you leave her on read for hours before texting back a quick "sure," afraid to go too far. you may be mad at karina for treating you in ways that left you confused, but you didn't actualy want to hurt her. 

but come the time when finally face her and you realize it may be too late. 

"so… why exactly have you been avoiding me?" more than anything, karina's voice is weary. she appears worried when you first take a seat across from her but when you don't look like you're in actual physical pain, her expression morphs into one of frustration.

"i'm not," you sigh, "i'm just busy."

"busy during every single meal? busy enough to leave before i wake up?"

"i'm taking more classes than usual," you say and though it's the truth, it's far from being the reason why you were acting this way. karina seems to know this. 

"i'm taking an art class that has me staying back in the studio till 11," she tells you. only then, you notice the black charcoal marking her cheek. "but i still come home."

"sorry," you mumble, averting your gaze. "i'm not– you didn't do anything. i'm just… thinking through some things. i'll come back to the room earlier today."

"great, so now we're not close enough for you to share your thoughts with me?" this time karina actually sounds hurt. it was the indication of your friendship finally falling apart that has her sitting forward, eyes blinking in panic. "y/n, what the fuck?"

what the fuck, indeed. you try your best to reassure karina but it seems like she's done talking to you after that point so you see yourself out. a small part of you manages to wonder whose jacket was laid across the chair next to her. taeyong?

you find the answer the hard way when you come back to your room at a reasonable hour for the first time in a week. only to run into taeyong himself.

he seems like he's in a hurry when you step in, rushing to put his jacket on (yes, the jacket that you saw next to karina earlier today) and avoiding your gaze. you don't even pretend to seem pleased encounter him there.

you fix your glare on karina, kneeling on her bed. she lets out a sigh when she sees you. "you're finally back."

you watch as taeyong leaves without a goodbye and you scoff, "i feel like i interrupted something. maybe i shouldn't have come back." you feel the blood rush to your head, all your convictions to lay out your unreciprocated feelings out to karina because she deserved an explanation.

right now, you just feel empty. and mad. so as soon as you rest your bag, you get to changing. but not into your night clothes.

"are you going somewhere?"

"...maybe."

"and what happened to our talk earlier?"

with a huff of disbelief, you throw your sweaty shirt on your bedroom floor. "well, i decided it meant nothing when i saw that guy leaving our room."

"taeyong?" karina looks baffled and you want to shake some sense into her so bad.

"yeah, i don't know, karina, the thought of you already replacing me with some dude–" you cut yourself off when your voice breaks. "it's not a great feeling. so i'm just gonna leave."

"wait, what?" karina jumps out of her bed. "is this what you've been mad about all week?"

you pause your angry movements about your space when she comes close to you, touching your arm, first contact in days. you breathe unevenly, "karina, i just need some time–"

"are you crying, jagiya?"

you want to say it's stupid nickname that gets to your nerves finally breaking your walls down. but really, it's the warmth in her tone, the sound of her breath hitting your ear so close. you'd missed karina. that's why you end up sobbing, arms finding her neck to support you. 

"karina, i'm–" she rubs your back calmly through your sobs. "i'm sorry."

"what's wrong, baby? why are you crying? please, talk to me."

"i think… i'm in love with you."

your confession is quiet, just like your love for karina has always been. actually no, that's what you want to think but no, your love is loud: you look for her in every room you enter, hands already welcoming hers when she runs over to you. you're the first to laugh at her jokes, no matter how nonsensical or how many times she's told them to you. you may be a flustered mess when things got intimate, but you always made sure karina felt good, too – going far beyond your comfort zone to please her.

karina pulls away with a soft gasp. "that's not what i expected you to say."

"i know," you sniffle. "but it's been killing me. i know you wanted to keep things casual. and i know you and taeyong are–"

"okay, just so we're clear for once and for all– there is nothing between me and taeyong."

you freeze in shock, having been rock-solid in your assumption of their relationship. "what?"

"come on, i barely know the guy. but apparently, everyone's teasing got to his head," karina sighs, "he came here to confess to me earlier today. and i rejected him."

now his urgency to leave the room makes even more sense, you realize slowly. but you realize another thing: karina had looked cold when you'd entered, ending things with him clearly. yet, here you were, standing with her arms around your waist as if you hadn't declared your love for her.

"...and?" you prod her, biting your lip hopefully.

"and?" karina echoes you, eyes locking in yours to understand your hint. "oh, you wanna know how i feel?"

you nod coyly, a stray tear falling down your cheek as if on cue. 

"well, let's start with a recap of this week. you ignored me so i felt like shit for most of it. and then you ignored me some more and i had to go to sleep lonely and sad. then, you stopped showing for meals so i didn't even want to eat anymore. what happened next? oh right, this evening. i had to practically beg you to talk to me–"

"okay, i get the idea!" you stop her with a groan, "i'm sorry, but i clearly had good reason to act the way i did."

"did you?" karina is suddenly holding your face, smiling turning bittersweet. "you idiot."

"huh?"

"i wanted to keep things casual because i wasn't sure how you felt about me. i wanted you to keep your options open till someone who you actually liked came along–"

"but–"

"this was long before i knew you were into me like that. you're really hard to read, you know? but yeah, i kept things casual because i'm selfish. i wanted to sleep with the girl i love without losing her friendship. i was obviously an–"

"idiot!" you hit karina's arm repeatedly at her revelation, tears filling up your vision yet again. "you love me?! why would you do that to me, then? are you–"

karina catches your fists in her with a heave, "i know, i know. i'm sorry, jagiya. but–" she brings your first to her chest, exposed by the deep neck of the tank she wore to sleep. "i'm serious about you, okay? i didn't want to gamble someone i cherished over some fucking around."

your body feels weak now that the truth is out in the open. you lean into karina. "you're so mean," you say into her neck, "i thought… you were chill."

she laughs at your complaint, "sorry. i'm dumb. dumb in love?"

you let karina coax you into her bed that night, kissing your body free of the tension you'd carried all that week like she was nursing you back to health. you can't help the tears that escape at her sweet touch, not new for her by any means – but different for you nevertheless, now that you knew how she felt. later that night, when you're falling asleep in her arms, in her twin bed this time, you feel her snuggle closer. warm nose against your cold cheek, she kisses you goodnight. (and a soft love you that you can barely distinguish from a dream.)

[tinytalkingtina]

Wiggly 🧠🪱 Wednesday

@devondespresso Tagged me in this forever ago and I finally had one wiggle its way into my brain!

This week been fiddling with the idea of a true role reversal Steddie, with Eddie as the popular jock and Steve as the metalhead (as opposed to a punk). This got a little away from me, haha. No idea for a story or how other characters might fit in, but if anyone wants to take the concept and run with it feel free!

Eddie

Eddie is still poor, and still lives with his uncle (let's pretend he had to repeat a grade due to the chaos of moving in with Wayne). But he's Hawkin's star track runner/lightweight wrestler, channeling his energy into sports and competition. His grades are probably still not great, but since he's winning awards at meets, teachers let a lot more slide, and he skates by most of his classes with low C's. If he's loud and excited, then well, that's just what jocks do, right?

Wayne works nights, so Eddie is usually left to his own devices. Sure, the trailer can't hold that many people (and maybe Eddie has a bit of a chip on his shoulder that he lives in the trailer park), but this is the Midwest, and Eddie is creative. He hosts big bonfire ragers out in the woods, deep enough that the cops can't easily break them up.

Eddie's "Munson Doctrine" is from the perspective of being a jock. Mixed with his insecurities, it becomes about staying on top, no matter what. That means dating around, taking girls out most Fridays. He likes girls and has plenty of fun. And if he occasionally slips in a fantasy or two about drug dealer Steve Harrington pinning him against a wall with that knife of his, no one needs to know.

Steve

Then we have Steve. Steve's had piano lessons since he was 5. A framed picture of him in his bow tie and tiny suit at his first recital sits on his mom's desk. He's good at sports and does Little League as a kid, but they don't hold his interest, not the way music does. When he hits middle school, him and his dad have a huge fight over him refusing to try out for any sports. The cracks were already there, because his parents are louder than they think when they argue. To drown them out, he turns on the radio, spinning the dials. By chance, he finds a Black Sabbath song. Something in it speaks to him, gives an outlet to the frustration and anger he's feeling.

Steve picks up drums to play in band at school, but he also borrows books from the library and teaches himself guitar after begging his mom for one for his 13th birthday. He makes a few friends, they start a band. As he enters high school his parents fight more. His grades, never great to begin with, slip further, so no more allowance for Steve. The first time he tries to steals a tape, he's caught almost immediately. But he gets better at it over time. Can't steal tattoos though, and Steve's not a great artist. So maybe he starts dealing. His parents work late most nights, so they don't need to know about his...extracurricular hobbies.

Even if he's not at the top of the high school food chain, Steve's still good at reading people and social situations. I don't think he would have the desire to DM AD&D, but I think Steve makes a good player, always solid at strategizing. In the hallways, he sees and overhears things, enough that he's able to keep the heat off him and his friends with some clever insinuation, and the threat to cut off anyone who tries something.

He sees the way that loudmouth jock Eddie Munson's eyes flick down to his lips when he buys weed off him at parties too, the guy isn't nearly as subtle as he thinks he is. Steve would love to take him down a couple pegs, if Eddie'd let him.

Thanks to @little-annie for some ideas on fleshing metalhead!Steve out more :D

Edit: check out the role reversal steddie tag for snippets of what Annie and I are writing now :)

No pressure tags to some folks (and if anyone wants to be tagged in the future let me know!): @augustjustice @hbyrde36 @puppy-steve @soaringornithopter

@hairstevington @eyesofshinigami

[izvmimi]

cw: part two of this drabble. fluff. izuku and reader are still high schoolers, still out under the stars in the middle of the night. a couple off-color jokes.

“You’re heavier than I expected.” Izuku says, suddenly, after a short bout of silence.

He’s seated cross-legged on the ground, eyes watching you carefully and you have for the past minute tried not to comment on the soft bags forming under his eyes or the frequent yawns (not that you’re not concerned but you value his privacy). If he had something to say to you, he would.

But now he's talking and you don't like it.

You touch down from the three feet you’ve allowed yourself off the ground (instead of fifty) and give him a look.

“Am I not dainty enough for you?” you quip. It’s pretend-angry - you can tell he just wanted to say something to break the silence, and not-so-surprisingly, he’s not always the best with words.

He blinks, nagging sleep in his eyes, then you can see him doing a bit of a calculation in his head. Then he gets to his feet. Perhaps you overdid it, you consider.

Had you finally annoyed him enough that he’d leave?

Rather than go the other way, he advances towards you, and confused, you take a tentative step back. He just as quickly hoists you in his arms, bridal style.

“W-what are you-“

He tosses you once in the air, like one would toss a pizza crust without the spin, and you gasp.

He grins as you look at him with wide eyes.

“Coming up with an answer for you.”

You swallow hard at the mischief in his eyes. Another toss, slightly higher this time and your stomach turns, possibly in excitement.

“Izuku!”

The next toss is high, so high you think you’ll become one of the stars in the sky and you scream loudly, but this time he bounds upwards and joins you, catching you again before the two of you make it to the ground. There’s a large thud as he braces himself on landing.

You’re a bit shaken, arms making his way around his neck reflexively. Your heart pounds while his is completely still.

“I think you’re dainty enough, ___.”

He sets you down for the second time that night.

Thump, thump, thump goes your heart.

“I’m starting to think you like carrying me,” you say finally.

He sits back down, but pulls your wrist gently to encourage you to sit with him.

“Maybe.” He teases.

As you sit together finally, taking a break from the night, you venture to ask him why he is out so late. Unlike you, he shouldn’t still have anything to prove.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” you ask. By now, it’s close to 2, maybe even 3 am and the chill of the middle of the night starts to settle in, and you pull your knees to your chest. It occurs to you to correct the bare arms and tops of your thighs in your winter costume. 

Izuku notices the shiver and pulls off his hoodie; you reflexively wave your hands that you’re fine but he still surrounds you with it. It’s warm, and it smells like him, and somehow that is even more comforting.

“Thank you,” you murmur under your breath. He smiles, then readjusts so that he leans his weight back on his hands and stretches his legs out. He looks slightly up in the sky. The smile is still there but there’s a little bit of sadness behind his eyes.

“Sometimes things pop into my head right when I’m about to fall asleep. Maybe a mistake I made or a wrong decision… then more start to come up and eventually it’s almost impossible to close my eyes anymore.”

He pauses and sighs. You watch him carefully and find yourself frowning.

“That sounds really hard,” you say, and mentally berate yourself for how ineffectual it sounds. Of course it’s hard. The first two years at UA were notoriously rough for the hero class, and you were relatively spared from all the extracurriculars they were involved in. Izuku has had to do more Hero work than you could even imagine, even if you were in the same class at this point in time. 

He laughs.

“It is, but it’s alright, I guess.” He shifts a little, looking at you. “At least it got me running into you in the middle of the night.”

Your mouth opens and closes, unsure what to say. There’s something about him that either makes you rambly or tongue-tied and right this moment, it’s the latter. You wonder if there’s anyone he feels this way about, then you hope there isn’t. 

Or maybe it would be better if there were, that way you wouldn’t continue to look stupid or bitchy or all around confused when it comes to him.

He chuckles at your silence, then pulls his knees into his chest to mirror you. Resting the side of his face on the knees, he studies you as though you are a painting, and you do the same to him. 

It’s hard to speak because what you want to say seems out of place and unnecessary.

I like you.

What use is that? He can do nothing with it, and neither can you. So you swallow the thought. 

“Have you tried counting sheep?”

This is possibly the most inane thing you’ve ever said.

He shakes his head. “They turn into dead bodies.”

The blood rushes from your face immediately and he actually laughs. “I’m kidding.”

You slap him on the shoulder. “Dude! Your sense of humor is awful!”

“Yeah. No one ever expects it,” he chuckles. “Perhaps I’m a bit sleep-delirious.” 

He rocks back and forth a little bit and you wonder how much of him you don’t really understand yet. 

“Do you want to walk back now?” you ask. Class will be later today than usual but it still means your sleep will be truncated. “You should probably sleep anyway. I’m constantly sleep deprived so it doesn’t matter for me, but for you…” you trail off because he shakes his head.

“I need a few more minutes,” he says. He’s no longer looking at you but straight ahead. It occurs to you that no matter how much he’s smiling right now, whatever is bothering him, whatever he can’t really articulate to you, still weighs heavy on his mind.

And without really thinking about what you’re doing, you find your hand inching closer to his. It rests on the top of his, and your fingers curl to hold the underside of his palm. 

“Okay,” you say.

No one says anything else. There’s wind, gentle breathing and the linking of your hands. Something builds under the surface but rests hidden. 

Something gentle but loud enough that it cannot be ignored.

[dullgecko]

Riz faints in a martial fighting practicum one day. he doesn't know if it's from lack of food (the budget's been tight lately and he's been sneaking the bigger portions on his mom's plate,) dehydration (he switched from drip coffee to espresso for speed of consumption recently and it means much less liquid intake during his day,) or tiredness (when is there time for sleep in junior year?) fabian and gorgug are in class that day and don't take it well/don't let riz downplay things

Riz generally tried not to get involved in up-close fights while in actual combat situation but that didn't mean he never would. There was also no guarentee that he wouldn't be fighting someone outside his size class. In order to make sure everyone was well rounded his martial fighting class, usually only full of halflings and gnomes beside himself, had been combined with one for larger adventurers.

He'd been looking forward to it. Sure, Riz sparred with Gorgug and Fabian informally all the time but there was something a little different about doing it at school. They'd been halfway through warmups when he started feeling a little off, lagging behind slightly as they ran laps around the gym before moving into stretching so no one would hurt themselves. He pushed past it though, usually if he ignored feelings like this they'd pass eventually.

It didn't pass though, his movements feeling sluggish as he sparred with his first partner. It was bad enough that he took a few hard hits from the wooden sparing swords, the halfling he'd been fighting actually giving him a concerned look as she dropped out of fighting stance after knocking the goblin on his ass for the third time.

"Dude are you okay? You've gone... gray? Your face is gray." She waved a hand at her own face, Riz blinking at her in confusion as he shifted to stand back up.

"Yeah sorry, bit off my game today. I think I'm a bit tir-" He felt like someone had stuffed his ears with cotton when he pushed himself back to his feet, vision tuneling before reducing to a pinprick as a wave of nausea rushed over him. He had a brief moment to think that he was glad his stomach was empty before he felt his knees buckle under him, the goblin landing on the padded mat with a muffled thump like a puppet with cut strings.

He was a bit confused when he opened his eyes again, suddenly finding himself a lot more supine than he'd been several seconds ago. A heavy weight on his chest as one of the paladins in Fabian and Gorgugs class knelt over him with a hand resting on his sternum. They must have cast lay on hands because he couldn't feel any of the bruises from sparing anymore, though he still felt fucking awful.

"He still looks pretty gray."

"He's in your party yeah? Think you can handle him while we continue the lesson?"

"Yeah we've got this." Riz heard Gorgug say from somewhere behind his head, the goblin giving the paladins wrist a pat to indicate they could stop as he tried to sit up.

"I'm okay. Just... gimme a second. I think my blood sugar went a bit loopy." He had to cross his legs and lean forwards when even that bit of movement made his head spin a bit, the goblin trying to take measured breaths to try and stave off the tunnel vision so he wouldn't just flop back over again.

"Fabian went to grab you a sports drink from the vending machine." Gorgug crouched in front of Riz when the paladin got out of the way, his party member giving them a pat on the shoulder by way of thanks. "Gods you look horrible dude. You scared the shit out of your sparing partner she thought she killed you."

"Sorry. Didn't have breakfast today." Or dinner last night, though he wasn't going to say that to Gorgug. He'd get worried looks... more worried looks than he was getting now anyway. "Was in a hurry."

"I don't think this is a case of skipping one meal man. You didn't even look this bad after the whole nightmare forest thing." The half orc wiggled his fingers, glancing up at the sound of running footsteps as Fabian sprinted back across the gym.

"Oh, good, he's awake I got-" He juggled a good half-dozen sports drinks in his arms, dropping two of them to the floor before shoving a bright purple bottle into Riz's lap.

"Thanks?" Riz pulled open the cap and took a sip, very nearly draining half the bottle when he suddenly realised how thirsty he was. He would have finished the whole thing if Gorgug hadn't tipped it away from him after a few seconds.

"Dude slow down, you'll make yourself sick. We know you're dehydrated as hell given you're not even sweating after all that working out but you need to pace yourself."

Riz just sighed at that and flicked his ears in irritation, waiting a few more seconds before taking a small sip of his overly sweet drink. "I'm fine. You don't need to... hover. You should go back to sparing."

"Nope. Once you're done with that you're coming down to the nurses office." Fabian jabbed a finger at him, handing him a second sports drink when the goblin finished draining the first one.

"But I'm-"

"You're dehydrated, you probably didn't eat breakfast..." Fabian turned to Gorgug who nodded in affirmation, the fighter rolling his eye in response. "...definitely didn't eat breakfast, and the bags under your eyes need their own postal code. When was the last time you slept?"

"Last night?"

"Sorry, rephrasing, more than two hours?"

Riz's eyes darted to one side as he thought, the rogue pausing long enough that Fabian made an annoyed noise at him and flicked his ear hard enough to make him flinch.

"Ow! Fuck!"

"Nurses office. You're not arguing your way out of this one... or should we call Sklonda to come pick you up?"

Riz just hissed in response to that, getting another ear flick for his efforts which made him flinch and cover them with his hands.

"Don't call my mom." She couldn't afford to leave work early, not with their budget as tight as it was this month. His case load had been pretty sparse so he wasn't able to help with the bills.

"So you'll come down to the nurses office?" "Okay."

"And stay there until they give you the all clear?" Gorgug added, catching the subtle squint to Riz's eyes that usually meant he was looking for loopholes.

"Ffffffine. I'll stay until they let me leave."

"Good."

[bwabys-scenarios]

how would kurapika and lerorio (or however you spell his name) react to your tank top riding down a little when you guys are cuddling? (separately please! :) )

Kurapika

Kurapika is often exhausted after work, and all he would like to do is pull you into his warm embrace and hold you all night. This particular mission has been long and hard, leaving him drained.

As he sits down his suitcase and drops his coat onto the coatrack, you run out of your room, wearing a pair of lounge shorts and a tanktop. Even in your pajamas, you’re awfully cute to him.

“Kurapika!”

You jump into his arms and he spins you around, chuckling. “Hello, angel. Miss me?”

You nod and pull him into a kiss, before leaving more kisses all over his face. He takes each one with a smile, before cupping your cheeks to stop you.

“Come on, angel. Let’s get to bed.”

He was still in his suit, quickly unbuttoning his shirt as he walked to your shared bedroom. It was late. He wished he could have gotten back sooner, it was obvious you’d stayed up to wait for him.

He left to the bathroom to change. Kurapika was still getting used to being in a relationship with you, and neither of you had made any… moves to further it. The thought of taking you lingered in the back of his mind at points, but he hadn’t seen any need to yet.

Kurapika threw on a tshirt and sweatpants. He splashed some water on his face and brushed his teeth before walking back out into you room. Technically, it was just your room, but he’d practically moved in a few months ago.

You sat patiently on the edge of the bed, you eyes tired. He felt a little guilty for making you wait even longer to get some rest, so he made his way to the bed quickly.

“I’m ready. Come here, angel.”

He crawled into bed and opened his arms, making you giggle. He pulled you into his embrace and kissed the top of your head.

“Tired?”

“A little… but it’s hard to sleep when I finally have you back.”

You wiggled around to look up at him, causing your shirt to ride down, exposing more of your cleavage than Kurapika had ever seen.

He paused, his eyes glued to you chest. “O-Oh really?”

You sighed softly. “Mhm… I get so lonely without you.” You cooed, giving him another kiss. The atmosphere felt different, heavy. Something had shifted and Kurapika wasn’t sure what to do.

His hands acted on their own, moving from your waist up until his hands were cupping your breasts. He grabbed the top of your tanktop and pulled it up, covering her better.

“Sorry, dear. You were a bit exposed there.”

Although he could feel himself grow hard at the way you were looking at him, your eyes half lidded from sleepiness, he couldn’t bring himself to make a move. He didn’t want to keep you awake after you had so diligently waited for his return.

In the morning, though, he would. His little angel would have to wait until then.

Leorio

“(Name)!”

You let out a gasp as your boyfriend tackled you on the couch, putting all of his weight on you.

“Leorio!! Can’t… breathe!!”

He quickly pushes up and releases some of the weight. “Whoops, sorry doll face. Got a lil too excited there.”

He planted a kiss on your cheek in apology. “Ugh, if I didn’t love you so much I’d push you off.” You mumbled, grabbing his face and pulling him in for a kiss.

He closed his eyes, enjoying the taste of your lips. Leorio had just gotten back from one of his classes, and he always enjoyed cuddling you after class.

“Let’s move to the bedroom, be more comfortable there…”

He didn’t complain as you let him to your shared bedroom and pulled him into your embrace. He usually liked to rest his head against your chest..

But it wasn’t easy when the tanktop you’d been wearing was pulling down to expose your breasts to him.

Leorio couldn’t help but stare open mouthed. He hadn’t seen you in such a state before, his eyes wouldn’t leave your chest.

“My eyes are up here, you know.”

He turned red and looked up up see a teasing smile on your face. You leaned down to give him another kiss and pull up your shirt.

“I um… sorry for looking.”

You tilt your head. “Why? I don’t mind.”

He blinked as you pulled your tanktop down further, exposing that you hadn’t been wearing a bra.

Leorio’s eyes went wide, his face turning red. “You can touch them, if you’d like.”

“Please…”

His hands hovered over your breasts for a moment before you giggled and pulled them to your chest. He almost gasps when his hands make contact.

“So soft…”

Once he made contact, he squished and squeezed them to his hearts content, eventually taking a nipple into his mouth and suckling gently.

“A-Ah, Leorio!”

He looked up at you with your boob in his mouth, his eyes slowly dropping closed.

‘Did he just fall asleep with my boob in his mouth?’

You roll your eyes and kiss the top of his head, allowing him to suck on your breast while he slept.

[r0s3s26]

@blu3cr3am your Match Up is…Yuji Itadori

<3 Yuji would be so perfect for you

<3 He would be such a sweetheart constantly and like your own personal ball of joy

<3 Everyones fav class clowns right here

<3 I headcanon yuji as pansexual or just queer, like I fully think he doesn’t gaf. Like if her thinks your hot your hot

<3 Literally the most gentlest of souls out there

<3 All he wants to do is show you how much he loves you.

<3 Yuji is only rude if they are rude first to him

<3 So you would not have to worry about the way he acts

<3 If yall were to ever get into an argument and he saw you were getting heated he would immediately like stop arguing and try to calm you down the best he can

<3 “Hey Sky its ok, im not upset anymore just take a deep breath for me, ok?”

<3 He is such a green flag

<3 I can’t find any faults about him

<3 Y’alls date nights are 50/50

<3 I think you guys alternate weeks on the things you wanna do together

<3 Like one week yuji is bring you to a new ramen restaurant in the city and showing you around

<3 And the next week you both are cuddled up with pizza boxes and soda cans on the floor around your couch, cuddling watching Saw or Scream series

(My personal favs are the Scary Movie franchise lol)

<3 He would BEGGG you to draw him, like all the damn time

<3 If you were to draw him he would 1.Take a picture and put it on his instagram story being like “My baby drew me and not you >:)” and 2. Ether put it in his phone case if it's small enough, but if it's fairly big he will frame it and put it on his wall.

<3 He would think your so smart(you are)

<3 Like listening to you talk about nature or the human mind would get him like “😍😍😍”

<3 Will share his clothes with you

<3 Like please wear his hoodies like he will melt and give you so many smooches

It was wintertime. The cold of the outside has slowly started to seep into your bones, you shiver, wishing Yuji would hurry up and meet you at the entrance of Jujutsu High. You look at your phone again, 7:30, he's 10 minutes late now. You hope that nothing has happened to him or he didn’t get called for a late-notice mission. “SKYYYYY” you hear someone yell in the distance, and you see a flash of pink and tan running over to you(he is fast as fuk boi). Before you even have time to react to this, Yuji is lifting you and spinning you around like your feather floating through the air(this dude has ungodly strength no matter what you think it's gonna feel like nothing to him). He leans up and kisses you on both of your cheeks “Hi baby, I'm sorry I'm late, Gojo needed me and of course, it took forever” he rolls his eyes “It's okay handsome, I'm just glad you ok” you kiss the top of his head. He sets you back down on the ground but his hands are still around your waist. “Now what ramen place did you wanna show me again?” you say with a bit of a shiver, yuji interrupts you mid-sentence “Sky are you cold?” he says while rubbing up and down your arms. “ I'm a little cold, yes, but not super” you lie through your chattering teeth as the cold starts seeping into your bones, your soul-, “No baby you taking my jacket”. Yuji starts to slip off his jacket, revealing a light zip-up hoodie underneath, “Yuji I couldn’t-” “Stop right there love, this isn’t a debate, you taking it”. Yuji slowly slips the coat onto your frame and immediately you are warmed up, yuji constantly hugging you “I forget how warm you run sometimes” “Yep forever a personal heater”, he turns to you, “Your personal heater” He says with a smirk. You burst out laughing “Is that your attempt to flirt with me?” You start laughing a bit more, yuji looks away a little embarrassed “What Aoi taught me” he grumbles, “Yuji, my handsome boy, never take whatever that man says seriously”. You now take his hand and start walking towards the man road to the downtown area, “Now tell me about this ramen place”

(Author Note: I hope you enjoy<3)

[chaesonghwas]

hello my darling wife could i ask for you to write me a ‘absentmindedly playing with their hair all the time’ for our beloved piarles?? 💕💕💕 (and you know… if you would be so inclined… to perhaps make it… a certain… rockstar au???… 👀👀👀)(i love you)

hello my darling love💖 i cannot believe this is the first piece of actual writing that exists within this au bc it feels like it's 5 novels long. i love u and thank u for making this up with me 💖💖 i hope u like my little drabbleeee

to everyone else: if u want to know more about the Deep Lore of the rockstar au and its five million spin offs, feel free to dm me and i'll send u a 20 min voice note

absentmindedly playing with their hair at all times

Charles really likes Pierre’s hair. Above everything, he really likes touching Pierre’s hair. He even liked touching it when it was burnt to a crisp after the Disaster with the boxed bleach they attempted to use in tenth grade, which is a feat in Charles’ favor.

This isn’t really a problem when Pierre is about to go on stage - his rockstar persona requires a little disheveledness and his bandmates don’t bat an eye at Charles’ gentle touches because they’re used to it. They’ve suffered it for long enough, even when Charles and Pierre weren’t together yet. One time way back then, at an after party, Yuki had tried to make up a drinking game with every time Charles touched Pierre’s hair - he’d ended up puking out of the window of their taxi. Nowadays, only the venue staff are occasionally surprised at seeing Charles, a successful singer in his own right, absentmindedly petting Pierre’s hair as if he was a dog.

It does become a problem however when Pierre is supposed to give a class at their mothers’ music school, because he can’t resist when his maman asks for a favor, and he needs to look somewhat… put together.

“Cha, c’mon,” Pierre says when Charles walks into the kitchen while he’s having breakfast and ruffles his hair wildly. “I’m supposed to give that presentation today.”

Charles hums happily and turns on the kettle to make his tea. “And? The kids think you’re cool because you’re a rockstar, not because your hair is tidy. Besides -” He looks at the clock they have mounted on the wall, massive and gold and gaudy. It was a joke gift that they got from Fernando after their brief stint in New York, so they’ve kept it up for the memories. “- Aren’t you already late?”

Pierre looks at the time and grimaces. “A little bit.”

“Well, your mother won’t be surprised,” he teases, a smirk appearing on his lips. Charles is wearing his most oversized pajamas and a hoodie with Pierre’s band’s name on it - he looks cozy enough that Pierre wishes he could ditch the class and stay here to cuddle, but he won’t. He promised his maman he’d helped out and he’s a man of his word.

“You’re mean,” he shoots back. Charles, in return, jumps up on the barstool next to Pierre and spins him around to kiss him. Pierre lets himself get lost in the kiss the way he always does, because kissing Charles is his favorite thing in the world, but when they part for air he realizes what Charles’ master plan really was: to run his fingers through Pierre’s hair and leave it even messier than before.

Charles grins and leans back in to drop a kiss on his cheek. “You just have nice hair, Pear.”

“Anyway -” Pierre rolls his eyes and Charles’ resounding giggle sends a flash of warmth through him. “Do you have to be at the studio today?”

“Yeah, I have to record that one rock-ier song and Lewis offered to help with instrumentals.”

“So you’ll be stealing my guitarist?”

Now it’s Charles’ turn to roll his eyes. “Won’t you be teaching children all day? You won’t mind.”

“Fair.” He takes the last sip of his coffee and shoots up. “Now I’ll be very late, so I should get going. See you tonight, baby.”

Charles kisses him sweetly and runs a hand through his hair one last time. “Good luck, calamar, I love you.”

“I love you too, even if you keep messing up my hair.”

[toboldlygohome]

Hold Me Closer

Mark Watney X Reader

Chapter 1

Summary: You were looking forward to your month on Mars, but what happens when a month-long mission becomes indefinite? Will you and Mark make it back home, or were you doomed from the start?

Character(s): Mark Watney, Chris Beck, Melissa Lewis, Beth Johanssen, Alex Vogel, Rick Martinez

Warning(s): Cursing, Injuries

You stared out the window as you ate, watching the endless expanse of darkness spin around the ship. A week from now, you would be on Mars, conducting geological surveys and testing core samples. You were a chemist first and foremost, but you were also sort of a jack of all trades aboard the Hermes. You could fix things, run telemetry, conduct space walks, keep the plants alive, identify minerals, and of course you had a fair bit of medical training. It was because of your proficiency for all things scientific that you landed yourself a spot in Ares 3.

The excitement practically radiated off of you. You were so stoked, you couldn't even eat the food in front of you. So much to see, so many samples to run! You hoped there would be signs of past water in Acidalia Planitia!

"You know Y/L/N, the food is supposed to go into your mouth." Beck strolled in with his water bottle in hand. Evidently he was here for a refill.

"Thanks for the tip, doctor. I'll keep that in mind." You said before shoveling a spoonful of rehydrated ravioli into your maw.

"You looked lost in thought there, wanna share with the class?" He asked as the water reclaimer slowly filled his bottle.

"Just thinking about Mars," you shrugged.

"Ah, for a second there I thought you were thinking about your botanist," Chris smirked.

You stared daggers into his back. "My botanist?"

Beck grinned at you over his shoulder. "Well who else would you be thinking about? You've got such a wistful look in your eyes, I thought for sure your mind was on him."

"You really need to stop with the teasing Beck. It's a small ship, it'll get back to him eventually," you grumbled.

"Look, I just call it like I see it."

"Well, you're seeing wrong."

"You've been more and more distracted lately, there's no way it's only because of Mars," Beck chuckled. Dammit. You hated when he was right. You did like Mark, but let's be honest here. Who wouldn't like Mark? He was funny, smart, and he looked way too good in his grey flight suit. Completely unfair.

"God, you can be so annoying," you laughed.

"Only because I'm right."

"Mark and I are just friends, that's all we're ever going to be. Even if we didn't work together, and for the government no less, there's no way he'd ever go for the likes of me."

"What makes you say that?" Beck tilted his head curiously.

"Have you seen him?"

"Yeah, and?"

"Dude, he's like the second most attractive person on this ship!"

"Second?!"

"Objectively speaking, Johanssen is the first. Her posters sold out like hot cakes!"

"I know Johanssen is first! I meant, how is he second? What about me?"

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Who's the one who got the super sexy Under Armor ad again?"

"... Y/N? How many times have you watched that ad?" Beck laughed.

"Shut up."

"It must have been a lot for it to be this fresh in your mind."

"Don't you have a computer nerd to go flirt with?"

"Don't you have a botanist to ogle?"

You groaned and pushed your food away, but Beck scooted it right back. "Fine, fine. No more teasing for today," he laughed. "Just make sure you finish your food, it's important that you eat well."

"What if I'm not hungry?" you asked.

"Eat anyway, doctor's orders," Beck sassed as he left the dining area with his water.

You snickered and poked at your ravioli. If only you could just follow your heart like Beck. He was set on Beth and nobody was going to keep him from her. You just hoped he'd wait until after the mission to make it official for the sake of his career.

Of course you wanted to date Mark. Beck wasn't wrong on that front, but relationships are strictly prohibited among crew-mates. Maybe if you didn't work together, you might have worked up the courage. Probably not, but it would have at least been an option.

You slowly ate the rest of your cold meal and tried to think about anything else. Anything but the plant-loving engineer who had a choke-hold on your heart.

~~~

Mark groaned and climbed out of his bunk. It had to be at least two in the morning... at least according to the Kennedy Space Center. Jeez, he was starving. Luckily their food reserves came with snacks for just such an occasion! He exited his quarters and looked toward the room beside his. The door was open, which was quite a surprise. You were normally asleep by now, and Martinez was keeping an eye on the telemetry tonight. What were you doing awake?

Watney made his way to the dining area and took a look at all of his options. Hmmmm... trail mix it is. He grabbed a bag and took the ladder to the zero g portion of the ship. Everything was quiet except for the hum of the ship and Rick clicking his pen in the cockpit. He decided not to bother the pilot and instead went in search of his favorite crew-mate.

He found you floating in the cupola with your earbuds in. You watched as Mars inched ever closer, calling you to its surface. Mark couldn't resist the urge. He grinned mischievously and grabbed your ankle, causing you to yelp in surprise.

Mark laughed as you smacked him on the shoulder half-heartedly, "Mark! you scared the shit out of me!"

"Sorry, sorry!" he floated up and settled beside you. "I saw an opportunity and I had to take it."

"Jerk," you laughed and returned your focus to the lonely red planet.

"What are you doing up?" Mark asked.

"I could ask you the same question."

"I was hungry," he caught a floating peanut in his mouth and looked at you as he ate. "And you?"

"I couldn't sleep. I'm too excited," you admitted with a smile. "Ever since I was little, I wanted to go to Mars... I can't believe it's actually happening."

Mark smiled gently and watched as your eyes sparkled with adventure. That was one of the things he loved most about you. He loved seeing you light up when you learn something new or complete something for the first time. And for the few instances you failed, he loved watching you gear up to try it again. Nothing could shake you when you had your mind set on something. (He wished you had your mind set on him...)

This was a lifelong dream of yours, something you'd thought about, planned for, and fought tooth and nail to achieve. Now here you were, watching all of the pieces fall into place. Mark felt so lucky he got to be on this mission with you, that he'd get to see every moment of excitement, every vivid dream become a reality.

"What are you listening to?" he grabbed your earbud and stuck it in his ear. He grinned.

Hold me closer, tiny dancer. Count the headlights on the highway. Lay me down in sheets of linen, you had a busy day today.

You scooted closer to Mark so he could listen with you, he wrapped an arm around your shoulder to keep you steady. Oh what Watney would give to stay with you like this. Floating softly, slowly, taking in the view. He offered you his bag of trail mix with a cheeky smile. You laughed lightly and grabbed a bite. Fuck. He loved your laugh. He would listen to it on repeat if he could.

"Hold me closer tiny dancer," He mumbled along with the song as the chorus kicked back up.

"Count the headlights on the highway," you whispered back.

~~~

Finally.

Mars was so close, you could almost touch it! And here in a few hours, you would be~

You suited up for your ride in the MDV and helped Martinez and Johanssen with the pre-flight checks. Mark and Beck were loading the descent vehicle with everyone's personal items and Vogel was making sure all of the Hermes experiments were on autopilot. Commander Lewis oversaw the whole operation and kept in contact with Mission Control about the progress being made.

Once all the checks had been made and all the cargo had been loaded, everyone piled into the MDV and prepared for descent.

You took a deep breath as you checked the on-board navigation. You were really going to make it! You were going to walk on Mars! You checked, double checked, even triple checked your numbers before giving Lewis a thumbs up.

"We are go for separation," she told Martinez.

"At your command," Martinez said, poised to initiate the separation.

"Launch," Lewis said.

Your heart rate increased as the MDV shuttered out of the docking port. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my GOD!

"Approaching ten meters from Hermes," Johanssen said.

"Engine power readings are nominal. Ship internal pressure is stable." You said, unable to keep the excited quiver from your voice. The cabin was quiet for a few minutes. The tension could be cut with a knife. It wasn't a bad kind of tension. It was exciting, like teetering at the top of the world's tallest roller coaster.

"Approaching two kilometers from Hermes. Go for engine start up," Beth said.

"Martinez, go for engine burn," Lewis said.

You squeezed the arms of your seat and closed your eyes. This was the hardest part for you. You'd worked in the International Space Station before and reentry was your downfall. What was worse about entering Mars was that there was no water to break your fall if you crashed.

You felt a gentle pressure on your hand and looked up to find Mark already watching you with a smile on his face. He squeezed your hand as the MDV inched closer and closer to Mars.

"Hanging in there?" he chuckled.

"By a thread," you joked.

"You got this, tiny dancer," Mark winked.

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. You both listened as Lewis and Martinez went back and forth calling out each action they performed. Mars completely filled the window.

You held onto Mark a little tighter.

~~~

The actual mission started off promising enough. The landing was good, setting up the Hab was a breeze, and life support was running at maximum efficiency. Unfortunately, life seemed to have this obsession with throwing you curve balls.

You scowled as you watched the screen while the storm outside raged on like an angry god.

"Jesus, we're gonna end up in Oz," Watney said. "What's the abort speed?"

"Technically one fifty kph. Any more than that and the MAV's in danger of tipping." Martinez said.

"Any predictions on the storm track?" Lewis asked.

"This is the edge of it. It's gonna get worse before it gets better," Johanssen replied.

"All right, prep for abort. We'll go to the MAV and hope for the best. If the wind gets too high, we'll launch."

If only that were the end of your misfortune. You literally had the audacity to think: 'How could this get any worse?' You got your answer when Mark was struck by a piece of flying debris. His vitals were offline, his suit depressurized on impact. He was likely dead, but still you were searching for him. The only trouble with that was you couldn't see two feet in front of you. The dust was thick and the wind was threatening your stability.

"WATNEY!" You called out, hoping the urgency in your voice would stir your friend from his incapacitation. "Watney, please respond."

"Y/L/N, I need you to get back to the MAV," Lewis ordered.

"But he could still be-"

"This isn't up for discussion. MAV. Now."

"I'm not leaving him behind. I know if it were any of us, he wouldn't give up. Not when there's still hope we could be alive."

"He's dead Y/L/N. W-we need to go, please," Beck pleaded.

You closed your eyes and forced down a cry. You didn't want it to be true, but Beck was right. Of course he was right. You were in denial... Still, you couldn't do it. If he was dead, you needed to see it for yourself. What if the numbers were wrong? What if-

You were struck with a sudden, blinding pain.

"Y/N!!" Lewis cried.

That was the last thing you heard before everything went dark.

~~~

Mark awoke with a gasp to the sound of beeping in his helmet.

"Oxygen level critical." A robotic voice said, causing him to pant heavily. His abdomen really fucking hurt. It took all his willpower to sit up. When he looked down, he found the source of his pain. The antenna for the com dish had turned him into a human shish kabob! He let out a cry as he tried to keep the antenna steady. Every movement sent a shock through his tired body.

Watney paused when he heard static in his helmet.

"Wa---y... W---ey c--- -n. Watney, If yo--- the-- please respond!"

"Y-Y/N?" Mark winced.

"Watney! Oh my god!" You sounded on the verge of tears. "I thought you were dead! I've been trying to call you for hours!" You sniffed and leveled your voice as much as you could. He could tell you were still coming down from your emotions. "What's your status?"

He groaned and pressed his head against the sand bank. "I've been impaled. Small puncture. Feel like shit," he said through heavy panting.

"Can you make it back to the Hab?" You asked.

"Yeah, I'll make it. I don't think it's deep enough to kill me." He stood up and immediately screamed.

"Mark! Are you okay? What happened?!"

"Antenna is still attached to the dish," he said through gritted teeth. He made quick work of the wire and struggled to his feet. "W-where are you? What's your status?"

"I'm trapped under the MDV. It plowed through me when I was looking for you. I'm not sure you can get me out in your condition."

Mark looked around and found the partially-mangled MDV a short distance away. Watney clutched his side and hobbled over, fearing the worst. He choked when he saw you. You were being crushed from the waist down by a fucking space ship. "O-oh my-"

"It's not as bad as it looks. I landed in some really soft sand. I managed to dig myself out from underneath, but I hit something solid and now I'm literally stuck between a rock and a hard place. The sand shifted under the MDV and now my chest hurts, but I can still feel my legs," you sighed and closed your eyes. "You need to get back to the Hab, Mark-"

"I'm not going to leave you." He grunted as he stepped closer. "If I lift this thing, can you pull yourself out?"

"Mark that's-"

"Can you?"

You grimaced and nodded, "Yes."

Mark nodded back and racked his adrenaline fueled brain for an idea of how to get you out. Still panting, he grabbed a metal bar from the ground and shoved it under the MDV. "On three," he said.

"One."

"Two."

Three."

He shoved the bar down and the ship eased up just enough for you to drag yourself out. You screamed as a searing, blinding pain ripped through your ribs. Mark felt his stomach drop at the sound.

He reached for you, but you pushed yourself into an unsteady standing position. "Fuck," you bit out and stumbled forward. "M-Mark" You inspected his wound. "Come on, we have to get this treated right now." You wrapped a supportive arm around his back and helped him shuffle back to the Hab.

His panting and gasps had only grown more pained as he stepped into the empty habitation. What little adrenaline he had left was wearing off. You rushed out of your suit as quickly as possible and helped Mark undress.

"Do you want to pull it out, or do you want me to do it?" you asked with as much calm as you could muster.

"I'll do it," he bit out. After a series of short, shallow breaths, he ripped the antenna out with a gut wrenching scream. You didn't have time to feel distraught as you shoved down his suit. He placed his hand on the wound. "There's something in it," he managed.

"Sit down," you ushered him to a chair and slid on some gloves. You made quick work in cutting away his shirt, administered a series of injections for pain and infection, and grabbed the retractor and forceps. "I'm sorry Mark, there isn't time to wait for the medicine," You didn't hesitate to insert the retractor and open the wound. He tossed his head back and blew out a long, shaky sigh. You bit the inside of your cheek and grabbed the object with the forceps. Carefully, you pulled it out and sat it in a dish. Mark groaned deeply. He was so pale and sweaty. You wanted to reach out and hold him, but you had a job to finish.

With the hard part done, you were able to relax and clean him up. The stitches were the final step. By then, the medicine was kicking in and Mark's strangled cries slowly turned into steady breathing. You leaned back in your chair and relished in the sound before standing up. You felt around your ribs for a moment and huffed before grabbing Mark some juice.

"Thank you..." He said, taking the bottle with shaking hands.

"You're welcome," you sighed and carded your fingers through his damp hair.

"Are you okay?" He rasped.

"I'm fine, just a couple broken ribs on the right side. I'll live." You gave him a tight smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I just ran a marathon," he chuckled, then winced.

"We should get you to bed-"

"Not yet," He shifted awkwardly in his seat. "There's an elephant in the room..."

"Ah," you sighed and sat down across from him, pushing away the pain in your ribs.

"What are we gonna do?" Mark murmured.

"Our odds aren't the best, but we'll make it work," you reassured him though you weren't sure it was the truth.

He closed his eyes and blew out a sigh. "You should be safe on the Hermes..." He swallowed. There were many stupid nights he wished you and him were the only two people in the world. Now he was beginning to realize how selfish that was. You were trapped on Mars because of him. If he hadn't have stopped to suggest the stupid rover plan, none of this would have happened.

"You should be too," you pressed a hand to his knee, sending a trail of goosebumps up his leg. Even now, you had him entranced with a single touch. "We should both be on our way home right now, instead we're here. But we're trained for this... We'll make it back, we're just gonna be fashionably late is all," you gave his knee a squeeze and pulled back.

"Can I see it?" he asked.

"See what?"

"Your ribs."

You opened your mouth to disagree, but decided a second pair of eyes on it might be for the best. You slowly lifted your shirt. Mark paled again as his eyes fell on your ruined abdomen. The whole thing was covered in splotches of purple and blue. Your back wasn't much better and he was sure your chest had received similar treatment.

His fingers ghosted over the bruises. "Shit," he whispered.

"It'll buff out," you lowered the hem of your shirt.

Watney closed his eyes and wished that this was all a nightmare, but upon opening them again, all he saw was you. You looked exhausted. No, exhausted was an understatement. There wasn't a word in the English dictionary that could describe your expression. You were devastated and trying to hide it. And why wouldn't you be? You had an endless supply of family and friends expecting you home. He only really had his parents to worry about. You had your parents, siblings, nieces and nephews, all your university and work friends... It should have been him and only him. You didn't deserve to be trapped here, least of all with the lowest ranking crew-mate on Ares 3.

"So, we're in a Hab designed to last 31 days..." You thought out loud. He could tell by that look on your face that you were puzzling through something.

"If the oxygenator breaks down, we're gonna suffocate. If the water reclaimer breaks, we die of thirst. If the Hab breaches, we'll explode. And if none of that happens, we starve to death." Watney said, giving in to the hopelessness of it all.

"If the oxygenator breaks, we have the spare. It's built to last 5 days for seven people. With only two of us, that will be... 30 days. More than enough time to fix the oxygenator." You thought out loud.

Ah, now he saw what you were up to. "If the water reclaimer breaks, we build a piss distillery while we fix it..." Mark corrected his earlier statement.

"We'll do bi-weekly checks on the Hab canvas to look for tears." You leaned back. "But you're right. Food is our biggest problem. We're gonna be a couple of hungry, hungry astronauts in a few months."

Mark laughed and shook his head. "Looks like we're gonna have to science the shit out of this..." He looked at you and was pleased to find you smiling back at him. "But that sounds like tomorrow-Watney's problem."

"For sure," you snickered. "There is no way I'm doing all that math tonight."

His heart fluttered as he watched the grin spread over your lips. Your enticingly soft looking lips... What is wrong with you Watney? Stop thinking about that! JEEZ... Creep... Anyway, just a moment ago, Mark was ready to give up. Now he had a little more hope that everything would turn out fine. Today fucking sucked, but tomorrow was a new day. Things are only hopeless when you give in to fear, and it was clear you had no intention of giving in.

"Y/N?"

"Hm?"

"You should run for President when we make it back."

"What?" You laughed and clutched at the spot above your broken ribs.

"I'm just sayin' I'd vote for you," he shrugged in a playful manner.

You sighed, "what am I gonna do with you, Watney?"

"Make me your Vice President?"

You raised an eyebrow at him.

"I'll settle for Secretary of Agriculture."

"How about the Secretary of Homeland Security?" You smirked.

"But that's the bottom of the line of succession," Mark grunted as he sat up.

"Exactly," you laughed before groaning and cradling your side again.

"Alright, that's enough for today," he pushed himself into a standing position. "No more laughing for... how long does it usually take for broken ribs to heal?"

"Like, six weeks."

"I knew that," he smiled and helped you stand up. "No more laughing for six weeks."

"What you're asking for is impossible," you winced. "You always make me laugh. It's why you're my best friend."

"I'm your best friend?" Mark asked, unable to hide his surprise at the admission. He hesitantly wrapped his arm around your back, worried about making the pain worse in his attempt to help you.

You huffed and leaned into him, "don't let it go to your head, Watney."

"Too late," Mark smiled and led you slowly to your bunk. It wasn't easy for either of you to maneuver with your injuries, but eventually you managed to get settled.

"Comfy?" Watney asked.

"That's a relative term," your eyes softened at him, causing the botanist to go all weak in the knees. What a mess he had gotten himself into... "Are you sure you don't need help getting into bed?"

"You took good care of me Y/L/N, It doesn't hurt so much anymore thanks to you... Maybe if the President thing doesn't work out, you could be a doctor," He leaned his bare shoulder against the ladder.

Your eyes trailed down his chest to the bandages keeping the stitches from view. Your eyes started to burn, but you pushed it down and looked up to the bunk above you. "And take Beck's job? As if~"

Mark could almost believe things were normal. That they weren't all alone in a desolate wasteland. You were an anchor. He wasn't sure what he'd do if you weren't here. Would he have the strength to try? This would have broken most normal people... was he one of them? Or was he like you? Brave, selfless, and full of resolve to keep going. His chest hurt. You had gone looking for him... and now you were here. It was his turn to be your anchor.

You felt his eyes on you, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet them. You felt pathetic. Once again, Watney had to pick you up when you were down. For as long as you'd known him, Mark had been your helping hand. He had a sixth sense about these things. The moment things go wrong, he's there to dig you out of the rubble. You closed your eyes and remembered being in orbit. You remembered how he covered your hand with his and made everything okay again. You couldn't keep relying on him like this. It was your turn to be his helping hand.

"Somebody's sleepy~" Mark cut through the silence.

"It's been a day," you sighed and dragged your eyes to meet his.

"A sol," he corrected.

"Smartass," you fought the urge to chuckle. "Go to bed, before I get up and make you..."

"Don't need to tell me twice," He raised his hands in defeat. Mark moved to leave, but paused and grabbed your hand. "Hey Y/N?"

"Y-yeah?"

He gave your hand the gentlest of squeezes, "you're my best friend too..."

You glowed as the smile reached your eyes.

"Don't let it go to your head," he winked.

"Too late."

You held onto Mark a little tighter.

....................

Taglist: @jolovesfandoms

If you would like to be added to my taglist, feel free to reach out!

Thank you for reading!

[orange-cheetah]

[N1A1] Chapter 1: Mash Burnedead and the Forest of Forewarning

(from Mash Burnedead and the Book of Adventures) Choose what Mash does next! Poll under Read More.

[masterlist]

▷Aー1

“Where is this?”

It was a dark forest blowing with a damp breeze.

The presence of living things could be felt everywhere among the trees and flowers growing thickly in search of sunlight. However, only darkness could be seen when one turns to look.

“Just, where on earth……”

Mash Burnedead runs with his jet-black robes fluttering and his mushroom-shaped black hair flowing. He is a first-year student at Easton Magic Academy, a school near this forest.

Night falls early in forests.

Surely this place, too, will soon be swallowed up by the darkness.

Of course, there is a reason why this young man is running alone in the forest at this hour.

A few hours ago―

*

Easton Magic Academy is located at the top of a steep mountain with strangely-shaped rocks that reach for the sky.

After finishing class, Mash Burnedead returns to Adler House, one of the three student dormitories under Easton that symbolizes "courage and conviction."

The reason why he returned a little later than the other students is probably because he was off shopping somewhere. As proof of that, look, he has a paper bag in his hand―

"......?"

As Mash reaches out to open the door, he notices something.

The paper bag that should’ve been in his hand until just a second ago is gone.

"Huh?"

Mash flaps his long robe, taking it off a little and turning it inside out to search through it, but he can't find it anywhere.

"Why?"

It contained freshly-baked cream puffs that he had gone all the way into town after school to buy. He ate most of them on the way back to the dormitory, but he did save three as tomorrow morning's snack―

Mash, who is looking at his empty hands in wonder, hears a small noise.

"......!"

Turning around in a second, Mash sees it.

A small black creature crawled into the bushes beside him.

Wait, that creature is holding the paper bag containing the three cream puffs!

Clenching his fists, Mash was about to follow it when he heard his name called from behind.

"Mash-kun, what's wrong?"

"Ah, Finn-kun."

Turning his head in a matter of seconds again, he found his roommate, Finn Ames, who lives with him in Room 302 of house Adler. Finn, wearing the same Adler dormitory robe as Mash, asks in confusion.

“Your neck seems to be spinning; are you okay?”

"I'm not okay."

“Ehh!? Can I have a look?”

As he told a worried Finn that “it's not my neck,'' Mash sat down on his knees in disappointment.

"They took away…… cream puffs……"

"Eh, who did!?"

"A small creature, about this size, and black……"

Mash holds up both hands as though holding a cat and repeats “about this size.” Finn crouches too, saying “about this size?” and moved his hands like he’s holding a cat in the same way.

“No, maybe it’s more like this.”

“Eh? Isn’t it the same?”

“No, it feels a little bigger.”

Finn, who has gone along with Mash's particularity, corrected himself with an “about this size, right.'' Looking as though he’s reminded of something, he says:

"Ah, then it might be the work of a troll. There are rumors that trolls have been appearing around here lately, you know."

“Troll?”

"Yeah, it's rumored that even though it's small, it's a big eater. The other day, the cafeteria’s foodstuff went missing as well. Maybe Mash-kun's cream puffs too..."

Before Finn could finish speaking, Mash, who had been slumped until a moment ago, flew out.

"I'll go get them back."

*

Furthermore, there was something unfamiliar here.

It's a square mound of earth. Although it is only a few dozen centimeters high, it measures 6 or 7 meters square and looks like a small stage. But, it's only dirt.

Looking closely, one could see that a perfect circle has been drawn on the mound with straw or something.

Two short lines are in the center of that circle.

Just as he was wondering if this was a bit too simple for a magic circle, a small black shadow appeared without a sound in the center of the circle.

"!"

It's the troll.

The troll he had been looking for was beckoning Mash from the top of the mound.

●　It was convenient for the troll to come out, so approach it as invited　》》　To Ａ―７

●　This is a trap. Let's observe the situation without going up on the mound　》》　To Ａ―２４

[Notes: The circle seems to be a sumo wrestling ring.

My initial plan was to have the poll up for two days, but apparently polls on tumblr can only be set to either one day or one week. I'm going with one day for now; we'll see how it goes!]

[klainepolls]

unexpected- day 3 of 7

by: @kurtsascot

day 1, day 2

POLL AT END DECIDES BLAINE’S LIE

———

“Wait-My apartment’s only ten minutes away. Let me lend you some clothes. At least.” Blaine hurries to add, “You can use my laundry room to treat that stain.”

Kurt blinks, taken aback. “Really?”

For a second, Blaine wonders if he overstepped, but Kurt doesn’t look put off. He looks flattered? Maybe? “Really.” Blaine shoves his bare hands into his pockets. Now that the coffee is cooling, his hands are starting to feel the bite in the air, and the skin between his fingers is starting to stick to itself. His pockets offer some insulation. And having someplace to put his hands stops him from fidgeting. “I don’t mind.” Spending more time with Kurt is the opposite of a problem.

Kurt fights a smile. “I mean- Are you sure? I… I wouldn’t want to impose,” he drawls, searching Blaine’s face for any hesitation.

“It’s the least I can do.” Blaine gives Kurt’s arm a playful poke, trying to put on a convincing front of confidence while his heart threatens to pound out of his chest. “Unless you would rather launder Vivienne Westwood over a public sink of questionable cleanliness?” He quips.

“No,” Kurt laughs, “No, I would not.”

He exhales, airy and deliberate, his relief dancing and lingering under Blaine’s skin, and ushers Blaine forward, “Lead the way, my assailant.”

The walk back Blaine’s is quiet. It’s not unpleasant, but it’s not exactly relaxed either; the bustle of New York City mid-morning doesn’t lend itself to easy conversation.

Besides, Blaine’s far too nervous to think of anything coherent to say.

He can’t resist stealing a few glances. Kurt catches him a couple times, but only smiles, and doesn’t question it.

It’s not until Blaine’s unlocking his front door that it hits him that he’s really about to lead Kurt into his apartment, and a wave of panic floods his chest.

“Sorry,” Blaine says as soon as steps through the doorway, hurrying over to the coffee table to tidy up, flinging his school bag somewhere near the front door. His apartment is clean- Blaine values comfort and he’s naturally a tidy person, but he would have put more effort into making his place ready for visitors if he knew he was going to bringing Kurt here- “It’s a bit of a mess.”

Kurt makes a noise in protest, shutting the door behind him. “You weren’t expecting company. I don’t mind.” He watches Blaine straighten the assortment of coursework strewn over his living area and tilts his head. “You don’t have to clean up for me,” he chuckles, then reprimands, “Didn’t you say you were running late? You don’t look like you are in a hurry.”

Blaine feels himself blush, focusing his attention on his hands and the clutter beneath them. “Ah, well-” What’s he supposed to say?! He doesn’t want to appear obsessive. Even if he kind of is. “It took me forever to get my coffee-“

Kurt cuts in, shrugging off his coat, “It looked like they were running on a skeleton crew-“

“They were,” Blaine finishes, trying not to stare at Kurt’s flexed hands and how his arms fill and stretch his dress shirt, as he loops his puffer around his forearm. “I want to help you- I wasn’t going to make it to class anyway.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow. “What class?”

[ilikerafayelwaytoomuch]

Lemuria Pottery- Chapter one

Rafayel x y/n, pottery au?

You decide to take some pottery classes at a pottery studio run by Rafayel...

I rushed through the doors of the quaint, small, pottery studio downtown. l had always wanted to take a class here, drawn to the decor I could spot from the outside. The problem was, I had no one to go with. I had tried, and failed, many times to get someone to go with me. So I finally bit the bullet and decided to just take a pottery class alone. How bad could it be? Then I woke up late the day of the class, threw on some clothes and did my makeup on the way there. When I stepped, or really burst, through the doors, I was greeted by many eyes on me, which made me regret even coming in the first place. Even more so when it appeared everyone was there as a couple, or at least friends, but the closeness of many of them told me otherwise. “You must be (y/n)?” a voice asked. I turned to see a man tying on an apron with a smile. I nodded, stunned by his appearance and suddenly regretting my outfit choice. I had no time to really think, just throwing on some sweats and a tee shirt. “Glad you made it, there should be an open seat there,” he pointed to an empty station near the back of the room. I nodded and quickly grabbed an apron, as everyone else already had and sat down as quickly as possible. Off to such a great, embarrassing start.

The class was taught by the same man who had greeted me at the door. He introduced himself as Rafayel, the owner of the studio. We all got started, sketching a design and then learning to throw the clay on the wheel. The class I had signed up for was actually a set of classes, as I wanted to do this right. Today was the first of three. After Rafayel explained the basics of what to do, he let us try it ourselves, reminding us that today was more about getting a feel for the art, rather than completing our entire project in that class. I had decided to play it safe and attempt to make a simplistic vase. But that was more for next week, today I was just focusing on trying to understand what affected the clay and how. Needless to say, I was struggling. I took a peek around the room, watching a couple working together on their piece. Another couple just having fun with the clay. Rafayel walked around, helping those he could. I sighed. This was a terrible idea. I should have known the class would be filled with couples. I sighed, looking down at the clump of clay on my wheel. I couldn’t let my money go to waste though, so I had to make this vase and I wanted it to be good. So I began again, attempting to slowly press down my foot on the pedal and wrapping my hands around the clay to shape it. It thunked against my hands, the wheel beginning to spin too fast before I quickly lifted my foot off the pedal in fear of the clump flying across the room. Unknown to me, Rafayel had watched the scene, a small smirk on his face. “Try adding some more water to it,” he instructed me. I looked up at him, his presence only just being known to me. “Oh, uh, okay,” I answered. I moved my hands to the bowl of water next to me and dipped my hands in, adding water to the clay. I looked up at him and he nodded. So I continued, readying my hands and beginning to add pressure to the pedal to make the wheel spin. And it all went wrong. I miscalculated the pressure my foot was adding, making the wheel spin far faster than it should. The added water made the clay slide around, flinging small clumps of watery clay onto my face and clothes. I yelped, immediately moving my hands away and lifting my foot up. But the clay didn’t like not being held while spinning fast and it jumped off of the wheel straight towards Rafayel. He was quick, catching it before it hit him in the stomach. My jaw dropped in shock. “Oh my God…I am so sorry,” I said, stunned. “I- well, I don't even know what happened. Good God this is the worst. I’m sorry-” I began stuttering, still in utter shock. I heard a gentle laugh and looked to see Rafayel trying hard not to laugh. Failing, and bursting into laughter. 

“Is your foot made of lead? I’ve never seen a wheel spin so fast!” he laughed, causing some of the couples to look over and see what he was laughing at, some hiding their laughter from me. My face heated up and I began to sweat, completely embarrassed and feeling a panic attack approach. I lowered my head, screaming at my brain to calm down and ignore their laughter. Why did I think this was a good idea? Slowly, Rafayel crouched down and met my eyes, tears beginning to well up in them and I avoided eye contact. “Hey,” he softly said, attempting to grab my attention, but failing to grab my eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s no big deal, really. I’ve done plenty worse in my days. Why don’t you go wash up and then I can help you when you’re feeling a bit better, yeah?” I nodded, wanting to get away and honestly never come back to this studio again. “Head up the stairs and go in the door to the right. There’s a bathroom down the hall to the left, second door on the left, got it?” I nodded, though was a bit confused on where this supposed bathroom was. I was under the impression this studio only had one floor. Rafayel extended his hand to me and I nervously took it, him pulling me to my feet and nodding his head in the direction of a staircase I had only just now noticed. I quickly made my way to the stairs, not daring to look at anyone in the room. How embarrassing. 

There was only one door when you went up the stairs, so that’s the one I went through and was suddenly confused. I was met with the view of a cluttered, but chic living room. Does Rafayel live above the pottery studio? Why had he told me to go up here for a bathroom? Blinking away some tears that had escaped, I turned to the left to see a hallway and went down it to find a bathroom. It was a standard bathroom, though honestly it was much easier to calm down in than a typical public restroom. I sat on the edge of the bath, steadying my breath. Once I began to feel calmer, the embarrassment slightly less painful, I stood to take in my appearance. I had bits of clay everywhere. I winced at the sight. I turned on the sink and attempted to get off as much as I could, frowning as I realized my makeup would come off with it. It was that or clay all over my face, so I chose no makeup and clay. I took another deep breath before opening the door and heading back through what I assumed was Rafayel’s place. I felt like I was impeding on his space, but I couldn’t help but glance at the artwork spread throughout. There were gorgeous paintings as well as pottery, equally as aesthetic. I shut the door behind me and quickly made my way back downstairs and to my seat. Thankfully, no one seemed to pay attention to it. I knew most people wouldn’t even remember the fiasco, instead remembering how much fun they had with their significant other, but I surely would remember. A few minutes after I sat down, Rafayel came over to me. “I’m sorry again, I really didn’t mean to upset you,” he said, keeping his voice down for only me to hear. I shook my head. 

“You’re fine, really. It’s just a me thing,” I chuckled. He nodded. 

“Better now though? Wanna try again?” he asked. I nodded. He grabbed a nearby chair and sat it down next to mine, sitting in it. I grew nervous at the close proximity. He was close. “I’ll start with the pressure on the wheel, think of it like you’re driving, you don’t want to floor it. I’ll begin and then you join- are you listening?” he suddenly tilted his head, smirking. I snapped out of whatever that was and nodded. “You’re going to use the pedal and then I’ll join,” I repeated his instructions. He nodded and smiled. He pressed down, the wheel beginning to spin. Then nodded at me. I moved my foot next to his, pressing down. “Up a bit, you’re putting more pressure than I am,” he noted. I nodded, doing as he said. “There, just like that, yeah. Perfect. See? Now it’s at a manageable pace.” I nodded. He took his foot off the pedal, just allowing me to get used to it, encouraging me or telling me to let up a bit. “Now that you have that, try doing what you did earlier, but this time it's not spinning quite so fast. Make sure to use a bit more water and make sure you have a good hold on the clay.” I nodded and slowly did as he instructed, finally successfully making the clay move. I felt myself begin to smile, finally getting somewhere as the clay raised with my hands. “Perfect,” I heard Rafayel say, looking to see him smile before standing and placing a hand on my shoulder before going to go help a couple who was struggling. I spent the rest of the class getting used to the feeling of the clay and attempting to shape it in different ways. 

[nerdzzone]

Tiny Dancer

Summary: Following in her mother’s footsteps, Grace has her first big dance recital.

Part of the Back To You series

-----

June 2025

“Okay, so Grace has to be there in about an hour and a half,” Madeline reminded Chris as she flitted around the kitchen, collecting a few small snacks and a bottle of water to put in her bag. “She’ll need her hair in a bun, but if you can’t do it then just let me know and I can fix it before she goes on stage.”

It was at least the third time that Madeline had given him that information, but considering how stressed she was about the big recital, he chose not to point that out.

“I think I’ll be able to do it, I’ve been practicing all week.”

“I know,” Madeline flashed him a smile. “You’re probably better than me now, but if she’s nervous and won’t sit still then I can deal with it at the theatre.”

“Okay,” Chris nodded, but as she paused her hurried movements and lifted her arms to put her hair up and out of her way - a clear sign of her stress - he took advantage of her stillness to slip his arms around her waist. “How are you feeling?”

He felt her tension ease as she leaned into his embrace and let out the deep breath that it seemed like she’d been holding all morning.

“I’m good,” she assured him. “I’m excited, it’s just a lot to organize. I feel like my head is spinning.”

It was a fair assessment considering it was only the third time that she’d been in charge of organizing a recital - although she had doubts that it was something that would get easier over time - but it was also the first time she was doing it as not only the lead teacher, but as the mom of one of the dancers as well.

Despite a few delays because of the pandemic, Madeline managed to get the studio space she’d leased when she’d first moved home up and running by September of 2020. It wasn’t a seamless process due to the kinks in the supply chain and the added interruption of her pregnancy, but after running the first fall program herself, she’d called in reinforcements. 

Her friend, Heidi - who she’d been dancing with since she’d joined the American Ballet Theatre - had retired due to an injury just a couple of years before Madeline had and after taking the time to heal, she’d moved to Boston to teach. When Madeline had pitched the idea of her joining the little up and coming school that she’d started, Heidi had been immediately on board. She took over classes completely while Madeline was on her maternity leave and by the time she returned, interest was rapidly growing. They decided to split the classes and take on more students with Heidi in charge of the younger kids - between three and six - while Madeline took care of the older ones - six to nine – before they could ‘graduate’ and join a bigger company if they chose to continue their dancing careers.

They were still a relatively small company with only one class per age, but that still meant they had ten dances to coordinate for the recital including all the numbers with combined age groups and the perfectionist side to Madeline had her very stressed about making sure it all ran smoothly.

“It is a lot to organize,” Chris agreed. “But just remember what Ma said, even if you’re in charge it’s still supposed to be fun.”

“Oh, it’s definitely still fun,” Madeline smiled. “I just really want to make sure it all goes well.”

“I’m sure it will,” Chris insisted, pressing a kiss against the top of her head. “And I’m really proud of you for putting it all together.”

He felt Madeline squeeze him a little tighter before she pulled back and looked up at him with a smile.

“Don’t say that yet, it might be a complete disaster.”

“I’m positive that it won’t be,” Chris chuckled. “You’re all gonna do great.”

“Let’s hope so.” Madeline let out a sigh as she glanced at her phone to check the time. Seeing that she was already running a bit late, she tossed it into her bag as she grabbed the bag off of the chair. “Okay, I’ll say goodbye to Gracie, but then I’ve gotta go. Let me know if you need anything, otherwise I’ll see you when you drop her off.”

Chris nodded and pulled her in for another soothing kiss before following her to the living room. Madeline quickly wrapped Grace in a hug as she murmured her goodbyes and Chris watched as Grace hurried to the window, waving until Madeline’s car had disappeared from view. However, once her mother was out of sight, Grace turned around and let the smile fall from her face as her eyebrows furrowed together.

“Daddy, I have a question.”

Biting back a smile at her suddenly serious expression, Chris nodded his head.

“Sure, Gracie, what’s up?”

“Will Mama be mad if I’m too scared to dance today?”

The question alone was upsetting for Chris, but the way her voice shook as she asked it wiped away any hints of his amusement.

“Of course not,” he assured her as he moved to squat down in front of her to get to her level. “Your Ma would never get mad about something like that.”

“But Mama loves dancing,” she reminded him. “And she’s never scared.”

“She does love to dance, but she does get scared sometimes too. She’s actually a little nervous about today too.”

Grace’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Really?”

“Absolutely,” Chris nodded, flashing her a smile. “Everyone gets a little scared sometimes. I used to get scared all the time before I did anything.”

“You did?”

“I did, but do you know who was always there to help me?” Chris waited for her to shake her head before he answered. “Your Ma was. Whenever I got scared, she knew just how to make me feel better.”

It was the truth and Chris hoped that knowledge would bring Grace some comfort. 

While Chris had prided himself on being Madeline’s protector when she got herself into more trouble than she could handle, she was always a fairly brave kid and Chris had to admit that in certain situations, he was not. Until he was about nine or ten, going anywhere without his family was practically torture for him. He hated school, he hated camp, he hated any activity that took him away from the comfort and safety of home, but despite their age difference and the fact that he was older - and should have been more emotionally stable - Madeline was always there to comfort him. 

One memory that popped into his head was of a time when his mom had tried to force him into summer camp. He’d cried and screamed and refused to go until she eventually took him home. He’d sulked in his room for most of the morning, but when Madeline and her mother came over that afternoon, she’d tracked him down and - despite being only four at the time - she’d given him her best attempt at a pep talk and loaned him her favourite stuffed animal to take with him the next day in the hopes it would give him as much comfort as it gave her.

While he’d appreciated the gesture, it hadn’t worked and he never made it to that camp, but he left that part out as he shared the anecdote with the nervous four year old in front of him.

“Oh,” Grace murmured as she mulled over his story. “That was nice.”

“It was,” Chris smiled. “So you don’t have to worry about your Ma being upset that you’re scared, but what’s making you so nervous?”

“Everything,” Grace sighed. “I don’t want there to be too much people there.”

“There probably will be a lot of people,” Chris admitted, feeling a wave of guilt that she’d clearly inherited his anxious nature. “But you can just look for me and Mama and Grandma, we’re the only people you need to focus on.”

“I just want it to be only all of you.”

“I know, but everyone’s families want to see them dance too.”

“But what if I do it wrong?”

“Then you just keep going,” Chris assured her. “You just have to do your best.”

“Okay…”

Her soft response and the worry still swimming in her eyes had Chris’ heart aching as he opened his arms to pull her into a hug.

“If you really don’t want to do it then you don’t have to, no one will be upset or disappointed if you’ve changed your mind.”

He felt her clinging to his shirt as she buried her face into his neck for comfort while she took a moment to debate her options before she spoke again.

“I think I wanna try.”

Chris felt a wave of relief at her decision as he knew that she would probably regret it if she didn’t and he squeezed her tight.

“I think that’s a good choice,” he agreed. “But you can change your mind at any time, okay? We can just take it one step at a time.”

“Okay,” Grace nodded. “Can you help me do my hair?”

“Sure,” Chris smiled. “Let’s go find your hairbrush.”

-

Grace is kinda freaking out, think you can give her a pep talk? We’re heading over now, be there soon.

By the time Madeline saw the text from Chris, she knew they would be arriving any minute and her concern had her rushing outside to meet them. She made it to the parking lot just as Chris was getting out of the car and he smiled at the sight of her.

“Hey,” she greeted him. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“I think so,” Chris nodded. “But she’s nervous. I think we’ve talked it through, but she was worried that you’d be mad if she was too scared to perform…”

“Me?”

The incredulity in her voice gave away her shock at that information and Chris rushed to assure her.

“She was just saying that she knows how much dancing means to you and she doesn’t want to disappoint you,” he elaborated. “But I told her about how you used to help me when I got nervous about stuff and we talked it out so I think she’s gonna be fine.”

“Okay,” Madeline sighed. “I’ll talk to her and make sure.”

Chris nodded and opened the back door of his car just in time for Grace to hop out. Her hair was in a perfect bun and she was already dressed in her little leotard and tutu and Madeline’s heart melted at the sight.

“Hi, baby,” she grinned. “You look great!”

“Thank you! Daddy did my hair!”

“Well, he did a great job!”

“Thanks, it only took four tries,” Chris chuckled. “But I should go pick up Grandma. I’ll be back for your show. Okay, Gracie?”

A look of worry briefly flickered across her little face, but Grace quickly wiped it away and nodded stoically at Chris. He smiled and squatted down to pull her in for a hug and pressed a kiss to her forehead before getting back into his car, waiting for Madeline to lead Grace out of the parking lot before he drove away.

“So,” Madeline started as Grace slipped her little hand into hers. “Daddy told me that you’re feeling a little nervous.”

“Yeah,” Grace admitted, her voice so soft that Madeline almost didn’t hear her. “I just don’t like all the people.”

As they walked into the lobby of the theatre, Madeline led Grace over to a bench by the door where she sat down and lifted Grace to sit sideways on her lap.

“It is scary when there’s a lot of people watching,” Madeline agreed. “But can I tell you a secret?”

The lure of confidential information had Grace’s eyes widening as she leaned in and nodded enthusiastically.

“Most people won’t be watching you,” Madeline informed her. “Everyone’s moms and dads and families will just be paying attention to them so the only people who will be really watching you are me, Daddy and Grandma.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Grace smiled softly. “Do you get scared too?”

“All the time,” Madeline admitted. “I used to get nervous before every performance, but I just try to remember that everyone just wants to have fun. We have fun dancing and the audience have fun watching us, right?”

“But what if I mess it all up?”

“Then you just have to keep going. I remember one time that I messed up really bad and I was so embarrassed, but you know what happened?”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Madeline shrugged. “No one even noticed because the people watching don’t really know how the dances are supposed to go. Daddy doesn’t know any of your moves, does he?”

“No,” Grace giggled at the thought. “Daddy doesn’t dance good at all!”

Madeline’s mind flashed to the many family dance parties they’d had where Chris would bust out his silliest dance moves just to make Grace laugh and let out a giggle of her own.

“Exactly! I bet most people who come today won’t be really good dancers like you and your class are so no one will know even if someone makes a mistake. You just have to keep your head up and keep going.”

Her assurances had Grace sitting up a little straighter and looking much more confident than she had when they’d walked in, but after she gave Madeline a firm nod and a confident ‘okay, Mama’, Madeline had one more thing she wanted to mention.

“But you know that no matter what, I’ll be proud of you, right?” She asked. “Even if you mess up or if you’re too scared to go on stage at all, I’ll always love you and I’d never be mad.”

Grace looked down at her hands, shrugging in a way that had Madeline’s heart sinking.

“I didn’t want you to be sad.”

“Listen to me, Gracie,” Madeline instructed, her voice firm so there was no room for any misunderstanding. “I’ll never be sad or disappointed because you’re scared about something. I’m so proud of you just for being here and trying to be brave, if you change your mind then that’s okay. Even if you wanted to quit dancing completely, I wouldn’t be mad.”

“I don’t!” Grace frantically shook her head. “I don’t wanna quit!”

“I know,” Madeline smiled. “I’m just making sure you know that I won’t be sad about whatever choice you make.”

“Okay,” Grace nodded, slipping her arm around Madeline’s neck and snuggling in close. “Love you, Mama.”

“I love you too, Gracie.” Madeline squeezed her in tight and took a minute to soak up the moment of calm amongst the busy day before she reluctantly helped her hop down from her lap. “I’ll take you to Heidi now, but if you need me at any time you just let her know, okay?”

Grace agreed as she slipped her hand back into Madeline’s and followed her down the hallway to the room where her class was getting ready.

-

Almost an hour later, Madeline was racing around the backstage area trying to make sure everyone had their shoes and hadn’t messed up their hair too much when one of the moms who had volunteered to help stopped her.

“Heidi wanted me to tell you that Grace will be on in five.”

“Okay,” Madeline smiled. “Thanks for letting me know.”

She felt a pang of guilt as she’d been hoping to get the chance to check in with Grace again, but she had no time to worry about it as she made sure no one was in desperate need of any help before slipping away to find Chris. Thanks to the perks of being the one in charge, she found him in the seats she’d reserved on the front row just as the applause went up for the dancers in the number before Grace’s class.

“She up next?” He murmured softly, not wanting to detract attention from the kids prancing off the stage. Madeline nodded and a smile slid onto his face. “How’s she doing?”

“I think she’s okay,” Madeline whispered back. “We talked before I took her to Heidi and I haven’t heard about any issues since.”

“Good.”

Madeline could see Chris’ shoulders drop as if that information soothed him, but as the shadows of the dancers filed onto the stage take their positions in the dim lighting she felt her own stomach turn with nerves. It truly didn’t matter to her - or any other person in the audience - if any of the girls made a mistake, but she knew how hard Grace could be on herself and she worried about how she would handle it if she did. 

Madeline adored her daughter, but there were times when she felt like they’d set her up to fail by passing on so many of their more difficult traits. She’d taken on her stubbornness, overly ambitious nature and inability to back down from a challenge, but also had Chris’ tendency to beat himself up and overthink himself into a world of doubt. They’d seen snippets of the traits in various ways through her life so far, but this was the first time they were seeing it collide into a heap of anxiety for her. She had the drive and desire to perform, but her self-doubt and the noise in her brain had clearly knocked her confidence. If anything did go wrong while she was on stage, Madeline knew it wouldn’t be easy to help her shake it off.

However, to her relief, it quickly became apparent that her worries were just as unfounded as Grace’s were.

Grace leapt and twirled around the stage with perfect precision and a passion that had her parents’ hearts swelling with pride. There was a look of focused determination on her face, but there was no sign of her earlier nerves and she completed the entire routine without missing a single mark. As they struck the final pose and the sound of applause returned, Madeline laughed as Chris jumped to his feet, letting out a cheer as he clapped so loud that the sound echoed around them. Madeline hopped up to join him just in time for Grace���s eyes to settle on them and her parents watched as a proud grin slid onto her face.

As much as she would have loved to stay and watch the rest of the show with Chris, Madeline hurried off as soon as Grace was exiting the stage to get one of her own classes ready to go on. She stayed in the wings for the rest of the performances - including Grace’s group number which she performed with the same ease as her first dance - but she was relieved when the final dancers left the stage and the show was over meaning she could just focus on being a mom again.

Wading through the crowds of other parents that had entered the backstage area to gather their dancers, Madeline hurried to find Grace and felt her heart swell when she saw her standing with Heidi.

“Grace!” She called out, catching her attention just in time for her to whisk her off the ground and into her arms. “You were amazing!”

“I did it, Mama,” Grace grinned as she wrapped her arms tightly around Madeline’s neck. “I didn’t get too scared or mess it all up!”

“I’m so proud of you! I knew you could do it!”

“She was a star,” Heidi agreed. “She warned me that she was feeling a little nervous, but we went through some calming breathing techniques and she persevered.”

“Thank you,” Madeline smiled at her friend before glancing back at Grace. “Should we go find Daddy?

Her question was met with a very enthusiastic nod and after quickly reassuring Heidi that she would be back soon to help with the clean up, Madeline hurried out of the theatre with Grace in her arms. As soon as they got out the door and Grace could see her other family members waiting by the parking lot, she wiggled until Madeline put her down.

“Daddy!” She cheered, bolting towards him. “Did you see me dance?”

“I did!” Chris smiled as he literally swept her off her feet, tossing her in the air before he settled her on his hip. ”You were so good!”

“Thanks,” she beamed proudly, but as her grandma stepped forward with a big bouquet in her arms, her eyes widened. “Are those for me?”

“They sure are!” Lisa smiled, holding them out for her take. Grace did so eagerly, whacking her dad in the face with the large arrangement as she thanked her grandma profusely. “You’re so welcome, honey. You’ve earned them, you did a great job!”

“She really did,” Madeline agreed as Grace was distracted by the flowers in her arms. “It’s a whole different kind of nerves watching her do it than it is being the one on stage.”

“Well, you had no need to worry,” Lisa assured her. “She clearly got your natural talent.”

Letting out a scoff of laughter, Madeline pulled a face at that claim.

“Most of my talent was not natural,” she reminded them. “I was the least coordinated dancer in my class when I started. Her ability to perform must come from the Evans side because she’s way better than I was at her age.”

“Maybe she just has better teachers,” Lisa pointed out. “It’s an amazing thing you’re doing here, building a little community of ballet that focuses on uplifting the kids above everything else.”

The compliment had Madeline swelling with pride more than any other congratulations she’d received that night. Her ultimate priority when she’d started the dance studio was to keep the environment positive. She was determined that there would be no pressure on any of the dancers, no unrealistically high expectations that set anyone up to fail and no using fear as motivation or insults disguised as well intentioned advice. She made sure that everyone was on the same page - including some of the more overbearing dance moms - and that the focus always stayed on having fun and enjoying ballet.

She knew that there were many people in the world who would think she was wasting her time - that her strategy wouldn’t enable the dancers to thrive in the way required to reach a higher level later on - but it was inspiring to see that she appeared to be right. It seemed that her teaching style was creating dancers who were more passionate and confident than the ones who were taught in a strict, almost abusive way and they were excelling just as much - if not more - than students from the schools she’d attended as a child and they had none of the emotional damage.

“Thank you,” she smiled at her mother-in-law. “Nothing is better than watching someone do what they love and really pour their heart into it, right? It just makes sense that empowering them is a better option.”

“Absolutely,” Lisa nodded. “And if anyone can prove that to the world, I know it’s you.”

Her assurance warmed Madeline’s heart as she knew that without the unfailing belief that Chris and his family seemed to have in her, she wouldn’t have been able to achieve even half of what she had. She was proud of what she’d accomplished, but she knew that she never would have been able to do it without their support and she shared that thought with Lisa just as Grace let out a yawn.

“I should probably get this little monster to bed…”

Chris’ observation was said with a chuckle, but it put a frown on Grace’s face.

“I’m not a monster,” she insisted. “I’m a ballerina!”

“Oh, of course, how could I forget?” Chris smiled. “Are you coming home with us, Maddie?”

“I’ve gotta stay for a bit and help tidy up backstage, but I won’t be too long.”

Chris nodded and took the flowers from Grace with the arm that wasn’t holding her before passing her over to Madeline to say goodnight. She squeezed her tight, murmuring more praise and congratulations as she moved towards the car and by the time she had her all strapped into her car seat, Grace was fighting desperately to keep her eyes open.

Placing a soft kiss on her head, she smiled at the sight before gently closing the door and turning to Chris.

“She’ll be fast asleep by the time you get home.”

“I’m not surprised,” Lisa chimed in. “She’s had an exciting night!”

“And all the nerves she had earlier probably didn’t help,” Chris pointed out. “It’s been an emotional day for her.”

“It has,” Madeline agreed, slipping her arms around Chris’ waist. “It’s been a long day for all of us, I think, but I should get back inside or we’ll be here all night.”

“You want me to stay and help? I’m sure Ma would take Grace home for us.”

Lisa voiced her agreement to that claim, but Madeline shook her head.

“There’s not a lot to do, we’ll be fine.”

Chris nodded and reluctantly let her slip out of his arms after stealing one quick kiss, waiting for her to make it safely back inside before he followed his mother to the car.

-

As Madeline pulled into their driveway almost two hours later, she felt the exhaustion hitting her full force. It had been a hectic, emotional day at the end of a long, busy week and now that it was all over, her body was screaming at her to take a break. Dragging herself from the car, motivated to move by the knowledge that her bed was only moments away, she made her way into the house and was surprised by the silence that greeted her.

She knew that Grace would have been in bed, but considering it was barely after nine o’clock, she’d expected to find Chris lounging in the living room with sports on the TV as he usually was on Saturday nights at home. However, the living room was dark - as was most of the house - so Madeline ventured down the hallway towards their bedroom and the sight that greeted her had a smile sliding onto her face.

Chris was laying on the bed, leaning against the headboard as he watched the muted TV on the wall with Dodger at his feet and a sleeping Grace tucked under his arm.

“Well, isn’t this a sight for sore eyes.”

Chris’ gaze snapped towards the doorway where she stood, relaxing when his eyes settled on her.

“Hi,” he flashed her a lazy smile. “I didn’t even hear you come in.”

“Apparently neither did our fierce guard dog,” she teased as Dodger twitched his tail in acknowledgment. “Why’s the party in here?”

“Grace woke up when I was changing her into her pajamas and wanted to sleep in our bed,” Chris explained. “Then she didn’t want me to leave so I stuck around for a bit.”

“She’s hard to resist,” Madeline sympathized. “And she deserves a little comfort after her big day.”

Slipping off her shoes and moving towards their dresser, Madeline lifted the dress she was wearing over her head and dropped it in the laundry basket before grabbing one of Chris’ old t-shirts out of a drawer and pulling it on. As she turned back towards the bed, she saw Chris brushing Grace’s hair out of her face as he watched her sleep with a look of adoration on his face.

If she hadn’t been so exhausted and eager to join them in the comfort of their bed, she would have been loath to interrupt the moment, but her exhaustion took over as she crawled up to lay in the empty space next to Grace.

“She did so well today,” Chris murmured. “She was so nervous, but she pulled it off.”

“She really did,” Madeline nodded as she rested her head on her pillow. “I just can’t get over how big she looked on that stage. It feels like it was just two minutes since we were bringing her home from the hospital.”

Chris smiled fondly at the memory as he thought back to their first night with Grace when they’d spent most of the night in a similar position, watching her closely as they were both too paranoid to take their eyes off her for more than a minute.

“I was so terrified,” he admitted. “I just kept thinking ‘man, who thought we were qualified enough to look after an actual baby’.”

His words pulled a snort of laughter from Madeline, but she stifled it with her hand to stop the noise from disturbing the child sleeping between them.

“We were in way over our heads,” she agreed. “But I think we’re doing a pretty good job.”

“It’s easy when you’ve got such a great kid.”

Madeline let out a hum of agreement, but as Chris flicked his eyes away from Grace, he noticed that Madeline’s were already flickering shut. Knowing how hard she’d been working and how little she’d slept all week, he wasn’t at all surprised and stayed quiet until he was sure she’d drifted off to sleep before shifting the blanket that he’d draped over Grace to cover her too.

As he watched them sleep beside him, he felt his own eyes grow heavy as the adrenaline of the day caught up with him as well. He was used to watching one of his favourite people perform as he’d sat through countless ballet recitals for Madeline, but he hadn’t truly been prepared for how it would feel to see his daughter up on that stage. He’d heard before Grace was born that having a child was like watching your whole heart run around outside of your body and that was the only way he could think to describe how he’d felt as he watched her.

He was constantly blown away by just how much it was possible to love someone and he was immeasurably grateful for the opportunity to be her dad. Knowing that the days of her wanting to snuggle up in bed with them were limited, he flicked off the lamp beside the bed and let himself fade off to sleep as well as he soaked in the sounds of her soft, gentle snores.

-

Next

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[asexual-fandom-queen]

My Canadian 9-1-1 Spin-Off Dreams

Okay so this post has reminded me that I have a whole Canadian 9-1-1 spin-off plotted and ready to go, so I'm gonna scream about it here in case anyone cares

It's called 9-1-1 True North obviously (the lyrics in the Canadian national anthem refer to Canada as the "true north, strong and free" and since they went the nickname route with Lonestar, I think True North tracks)

It's set in Vancouver, primarily because if Hollywood is gonna film fucking half their shows there, the least they could do is set something in the actual city! Also, as far as Canadian winters go, it's on the milder side, so they can do one or two snow episodes a season without needing to make it their entire personality. They have the ocean for water emergencies, they're on a faultline for earthquake drama (even if they don't actually feel most of the earthquakes they get like California does), and BC unfortunately also has a terrible wildfire season.

And that's just on the natural disaster front! Vancouver as a city has a lot of interesting social issues to bring in that human element 9-1-1 likes so much. Vancouver's Downtown East Side is often referred to as "Canada's poorest postal code." The city has an incredibly deep socioeconomic divide that exacerbates an ongoing housing and cost of living crisis. It is one of the most ethnically diverse cities in Canada, an estimated 55% of its residents are non-white, and Indigenous folks have called the Vancouver area home for over 10,000 years, specifically members of the Squamish, Musqueam, and Tsleil-Waututh Nations.

Since I've sold you on location, let me line up some vague character profiles to get invested in (bearing in mind, it's gonna feel a bit like the intro to Lonestar where it's just a Diversity Carousel, but I promise, they're actually fleshed out and 3-dimensional in the show, this is just the pitch)

DETS Social Worker Girl. She's a late 20-something with a brand new MSW working at a not-for-profit in the Downtown East Side. Her whole thing is harm reduction and de-escalation and finding ways to help without involving the police. She's got a heart of gold, but also grew up upper-middle-class and has a bit of a White Savior thing going on the show absolutely gets to call her on, and a big part of her arc is learning to be of service without centering herself as the hero.

The Crystal Highway Of Metro Vancouver. If you've watched the Canadian medical drama Skymed (which if you're a 9-1-1 fan who hasn't, get on that immediately) you're familiar with Crys's whole archetype. An Indigenous character who isn't just Indigenous but who the narrative also deeply respects by allowing their Indigenous identity to be a core aspect of who they are. I see his character struggling a bit with that "foot in two worlds" feeling. He brushes elbows with DETS Social Worker on various calls, and their budding romance gets to be the Buck/Abby slash TK/Carlos romantic backbone, at least of the first season.

Every Buck Needs An Eddie (And Vice Versa). Because what's an ensemble cast procedural without a Work Bestie dynamic? Buck and Eddie. Chim and Hen. Paul and Marjan. You get it. He's first-generation Indian Canadian, he's a bit of a goof, a sweet sunshine child. Also, since Vancouver is very much Canada's Portland, I don't think it's off the table for him, 9-1-1's Crystal Highway, and DETS Social Worker to end up getting poly with it in later seasons. (Also, I think in the hands of a respectful writing team who ensure their characters are fully fleshed out and not just tokenized representation to tick boxes, a running gag of "not that kind of Indian" between the Work Besties could land)

Disabled Dispatcher Rights. Which I'm a bit surprised neither the OG 9-1-1 or Lonestar has done. 9-1-1 as a franchise does a lot to ensure diversity in its cast, but I think it's time network TV really steps it up with better disability rep. Like Bobby in Trackers proves (and like Felicity Smoak could have proved if the writers hadn't magically fixed her spinal injury) you can be a badass from a desk and contribute just as much to the success of the team, thank you very much.

Firehouse Mom Who Is Tired And Gay. And so butch. So, so butch. Please, ABC I'm begging you. One butch woman on my screen. You can do it. I know you can. We've had Bobby, and we've had Owen, but it's time for a Lady Cap. And while I'm not saying you have to cast Jane Lynch... I just think you should think about it.

In short, the next 9-1-1 should be set in Vancouver, and if I can get just 10 minutes alone in a room with Tim Minear, I think he'll see the vision...

[sparkylilacs]

The Amazing Adventures of Spider-Kid!

Chapter 3

The next morning I get ready for yet another new school. My record for shortest time spent at a new school was half a day. In the fifth grade I got a teacher to quit and was kicked out when I brought a spider's egg sack to class and it hatched all over his desk after he confiscated my pencil bag for coloring during lecture. Apparently he was a humongous arachnophobe. I didn't have any books for this school yet so I packed my backpack with only a notebook (for doodling), my personal project folder, and a sack lunch Paco handed out to all us kids as we left. The twins turned right at the corner and I followed Wanda and Hey to the left and presumably to the high school. Or not, sometimes other kids in group homes had led me off wrong roads then ditched me so I'd be late. Or just lost, with some of them it was hard to tell. I never actually got lost, though I was often late, I have an amazing sense of direction. In the hall kids were buzzing in every direction. 

My first room was English literature. I got there no problem since I'm used to commotion. The teacher started by saying the basic speech on how she hoped I would feel welcome and asked me what some of my hobbies were. "I like to free climb, and practice kickboxing," I say. Sure, I am interested in those things and could say what my real hobbies are, reading comics and researching random stuff on the internet, but I find introducing myself this way gives me more space. The teacher said my hobbies were interesting and asked me to sit down. When she told us to turn to page fifty in the textbook, I just sat there wondering how long it would take her to realize I hadn't been issued one yet. My record was three months.

It wasn't to be beat this time. The teacher remembered after a minute and brought one over to me. The rest of the morning classes went the same way, as expected. Lunch things seemed usual as well, but quickly went very wrong. When I entered the cafeteria people stared, I was used to this. But when a boy sauntered up to me and asked "Did they hit you with their canes?" I had no answer. My blank stare told him he needed to clarify and he said, "The old folks you knocked off with the roof tiles". Some kids near enough to hear gave him stop now gestures, but others were getting up. Closing in on me. My mind was spinning over what he meant. Somehow my injuring Mr. Tipton had been told and expanded in rumor fashion all over the school, but the only people who could have talked were the Garcia house kids. 

This was bad, one of the worst people to live with is a snooping gossip. I learned that fast at the group center when I first went into the system. What was worse was how close this boy was to me now. "Why else were you climbing on the roof, who do you think you are Spider-Man?". I gritted my teeth and tried to push past him, but he didn't budge and the others packed around tighter. So I used a classic swipe, not even really a kick. Just to unbalance him and hoping I'd topple the whole group like dominos. Unluckily for me he went forward instead of backward. Taking us both down instead. 

My head was still buzzing a bit from hitting the floor, but I still heard a kid say, "Look she does think she's Spider-Man!". Pushing the boy off me I saw I hadn't zipped my pack all the way and my personal project folder had spilled all over the cafeteria floor. Pictures from newspapers, articles, and maps dated by year of activity splayed out for all around to see. "Spider Girl is better," said another voice. Laughter echoed around me as I scooped up what I could and ran out of there. The buzzing in my head seemed to grow louder as I darted through the hall to the exit. Vaguely I heard Hey shout at me as I passed, but I paid no attention. In the school yard I climbed the fence swiftly, jumped down landing on my feet and immediately continued running. No real direction in mind, just trying to put as much distance between me and the school as possible. Before I had been teased, whispered about, and shoved around, but the Spider-Man file was my biggest secret. I hadn't even shown it to my brother. And now it was all over the new school. 

So I ran unconcerned about punishments for running out in the middle of a school day. I was crossing a street when the buzzing in my head stopped and I heard Hey behind me. But he wasn't as fast as I was. A truck was barreling towards him, without realizing I had changed direction I kicked off a passing car and grabbed Hey, using the momentum to pull him back to the sidewalk with me. He stared at me, eyes big still dazed with shock. "How'd you do that?" he asked. I shrugged, "I do parkour". Shaking his head he said, "Okay, but why did you leave school? Do you know how much trouble you'll be in? I overheard your caseworker talking about how close you are to juvie if you don't shape up,". All my nerves were still tingling but that sent my gut writhing. Ms. Wilt had warned me before for other infractions, yet nothing I had done really could send me to juvenile detention. Although if nobody else would take me in. If I was just too much trouble to be bothered with. It might be all that was left. Acting unconcerned I said, "If you didn't eavesdrop then I wouldn't have run,". Hey gave me a quizzical look then his eyes cleared. He said, "That's Wanda. A real gossip. I think it's how she survives from place to place. Only been here half a year and already she knows everything,". I grunted and started heading down the street. Still not sure I believed he was innocent. Denial was the second language of a confronted gossip.

"Where are you going now?" he asked.

 "Back," I reply.

"How do you know that's the right way? I am barely sure where we are now, and you were running faster,".

"I never get lost,", I shoot over my shoulder, not stopping for him to catch up.

[parcequecestnotreprojeeeet]

Hello! It's Winter. This story was inspired by a conversation I had with a close friend ... Curious if B&E ever had a fight like this:

Mothering

Upon entering the bathroom, Brigitte was immediately outraged at the mess in front of her. Her husband of 1 week had thrown his wet towel on the floor, his dirty boxers casually tossed next to it. 

She let out a loud sigh as she picked up the discarded linen off the white-tiled floor. It brought back deja vu of cleaning her son’s messy bedroom when he was a teenager. Brigitte assumed she was done "mothering" once her children moved out. She never predicted she’d be picking up after her 30-year-old husband. 

“Aw! Good morning, Cherie!” Emmanuel greeted his wife cheerfully with a kiss. “You look beautiful this morning. Is that a new skirt you're wearing?” 

Instantly, he knew something was wrong by her frigid reaction. She was never one to shy away from a kiss - especially from him. “Brigitte, why didn’t you kiss me back?” 

Tossing the wet towel in his face, she snapped. “You know why! I’m not your mother!” 

Shocked by her outburst, he stood dumbfounded as she rushed past him.

He grabbed her arm and spun her around, “I was going to come back and pick it up. You don’t need to yell at me.” 

She sighed, angrily twirling her wedding ring around her finger. “You could have picked it up right away. I’m not your maid, I’m not your mother. I’m your wife, Emmanuel! I refuse to pick up after you.” 

In an attempt to calm her down, he went in for another kiss but she backed away. 

“Brigitte, I know you’re not my mother. I’ve never seen you as a motherly figure -  ” 

She interrupted him before he was able to get the rest of his sentence out. “What did you just say to me?! I AM a mother ...of 3!” 

He took a deep breath. “If you had let me finish, I was about to say I’ve never seen you as a motherly figure to me! I’m sorry, I should have picked up my towel.”

“Don’t let it happen again,” she barked, annoying him even further with her demeaning tone. 

“Stop talking to me this way! I’m not one of your children!” Emmanuel had heard enough. “I’m your husband - treat me like it!” 

“Then start acting like it!” She yelled, her temper getting worse.

He grabbed her waist the moment she tried to run away again. Spinning Brigitte around, Emmanuel passionately kissed her hard on the mouth, his hand finding its way under her short skirt. Slowly, he felt her anger fade away. A few more seconds and he was positive all would be forgiven.

Breathless, she pulled back. “What was that for?” 

Emmanuel grinned, “I was showing you that I’m not one of your children.” 

She wiped her red lipstick off his lips. “Point proven.” 

“Now, do we have a few minutes before you need to leave for work?” He asked.

She glanced at her gold watch, a gift from him. “I have to teach a class in 25 minutes.” 

Emmanuel laughed as he dragged her to their unmade bed. “It won’t be the first time you’re late for class because of me. Only this time, we’re married.”

Hellooo Winter! ❤️

Oooh things got tense there for a bit... but I’m glad they managed to put the “anger” aside and actually found a better thing to do... 🤭😏 And btw, I so would not have picked up the towel and the boxers from the floor hahaha he would have to come back at do it himself, and fast 😂

Emmanuel making Brigitte being late for class tho hahaha but at least it’s for a good reason 😈

Thank you so much, Winter! ❤️❤️❤️