#good morning monday wallpaper

[aquaramelia]

Get into a cozy morning mood with these cute hot cup of coffee phone wallpapers! Featuring delicious cups of coffee or tea, with oil painting effects, in beautiful backgrounds with orange autumn/fall accents.

[tofics]

Nothing Like Some Neighborly Love

Part 1 - Series Masterlist

Pairing: no outbreak!Joel Miller x fem!Reader

Summary: Goodbye New York, hello Austin! - After a split from your ex, you're in dire need of a fresh scenery. Texas seems to provide just that. Your grandmother, fresh out of a hip surgery and in need of assistance, is happy to have you move in with her as a solution for both of your predicaments. Ever the hands-on person that she is, she also seems to want to rectify your fresh singleness, and she knows just the guy...

Word Count: ~4500 words

Warnings: mentions of a manipulating ex, mentions of cheating, mentions of a surgery, age gap (reader is early 30s, Joel is an unspecified amount (~10-15 years) older than her)

Your arrival in Austin, Texas is anything but spectacular. Besides your bags being some of the first to appear at baggage claim absolutely nothing out-of-the-ordinary happens - it's about as normal as a Monday-morning flight can be.

Not for you, though. Today marks the first day of your new life.

No big deal.

Except it's a huge deal. With every inch that you put between yourself and your old life in New York, you feel your shoulders relaxing a bit more and the tight-knit knot in your chest loosening.

Finally, at long last, you're free.

Free of the asshole that, up until a couple of months ago, was your boyfriend, your roommate, your co-worker.

Your lying, manipulating source of self-doubt, tears and misery.

Good fucking riddance.

"Oh honey, c'mere you!" Your grandmother pulls you into a surprisingly tight hug. For a lady who had hip surgery just two days ago, she seems to be at the top of her game.

"Gammy," you smile and return her embrace, even if not as forcefully. Strong arms or not, she did just come out of the hospital. Better to be a little more careful.

"Come in, come in! Let's get you out of that heat." Your grandma shuffles out of the door and down the hallway with the help of her rollator. You step into the house after her, dragging your two suitcases behind you.

Everything looks just like you remember. The beige carpet that flows from the hallway into the open living room and up the stairs, the brown tiles of the kitchen area, the light flowery wallpaper on the walls - as far as you can tell, not a single thing has changed. It even smells the same, like fresh laundry and soap and a faint hint of your grandmother's perfume.

You can't imagine a more comforting scenery after everything you've been through.

"How was your flight, honey? And do you want anythin' to drink?"

If it wasn't for the rollator, it'd be hard to tell that your grandmother just had a major surgery. She's already bustling about in the kitchen when you enter the open living and dining area, moving at the same speed you've always known her to. Watching your grandmother at work is like watching a busy bee, always doing something, fingers always moving. It goes without saying that your grandmother is not a woman known for sitting still or taking a break.

You already know her answer, but you have to ask anyway. "Gammy, shouldn't you be resting?"

"Restin', restin'. I hear that damn word one more time, I'm gon' have a fit!" She drops two ice cubes of frozen iced tea into each cup, then adds a lemon slice. "Doctor's said I'm s'posed to be movin'." The ice cubes clink and crackle when she pours fresh iced tea on top. "You told me to follow them orders!" Your grandma shakes the big spoon your way accusingly and you can't help but grin at the image.

"That's true, I did. I also said I'd move here to help you, grandma."

"Honey, if I can't pour no more damned iced tea, I want you to put me in my grave. Until then, I'll pour my own drinks. Now get on over here n' take those glasses over to the couch, will ya?"

You do as you're told and sit down next to your grandmother on the couch, making sure to use coasters for your drinks. Glass rings on the furniture did not go over well in this house.

"See? I can ask for help just fine." Your grandmother winks at you and then clinks her glass against yours. "Cheers, baby. Now tell me, how was your flight?"

"It was fine. Boring, uneventful. Just how I like my flights to be." A sip of your glass floods your mouth with the taste of your childhood summers, sweet and lemony and filled with your grandmother's love to the brim. There's no other iced tea quite like it.

"Good, good. And how are you doin', baby? Hm?" Her hand squeezes your thigh as her eyes roam over your face. You know the look: it's the look of scrutiny, the same one she uses any time she wants to get the truth out of someone. You've seen it being given to your mother, your father, your grandfather, even neighbors. You yourself have been at the receiving end of it a few times in your life. The result is always the same - the truth. Your grandmother is not a woman that's lied to.

"Honestly? I feel like a massive weight has been lifted off my shoulders." You sigh, both for effect and because it's true. Setting foot onto Texas soil was already liberating, but sitting in your grandmother's living room has you relaxing more and more by the minute. "I'm just so glad to be here. This couldn't have come at a better moment. Not saying I'm happy you had to get hip surgery, you know, but I'm just glad it all worked out with you needing help and me needing a new place to figure out where to go from here."

You squeeze your grandma's hand on your thigh and she puts hers right on top, squeezing you back. "Oh, hush. Y'know you're welcome here anytime, and I'd much rather have you here t' help me out than some stranger comin' into my house every single day."

Despite your circumstances, you can't deny how lucky the timing of it all has been. Your relationship had been crumbling for months and it seemed like no matter what you did, all your efforts were in vein and largely not reciprocated. To make matters worse, your job was suffering under the pressure of your dissolving relationship as well. You and your boyfriend worked at the same elementary school, you being a teacher and him being the principal, and while sharing a workplace and commute had been something out of a dream come true for the first two years together, it quickly posed a problem when your first problems emerged.

The final nail in the coffin came in the form of him being the nail and the coffin being his secretary. It was so cliché that you didn't know whether to laugh or cry when you first found out. In the end, you did neither, just packed your things and left. That part was easy, with a circle of friends who offered up their couches and open ears immediately. The work part? Not so much. By now you'd say that working under your ex while another woman was actually under him was the worst part of your final months in New York.

You needed to get out. You were already out of your joined flat, the job was the next thing to go. Then your grandmother mentioned she'd need to get surgery on her hip and just hated the idea of having a stranger coming to her house every single day to help her with her day-to-day errands.

The plan basically wrote itself.

Your grandma was delighted by the idea of you moving you here. A temporary arrangement until she's all healed up and you have figured out where to go from here. It's basically a two-birds-with-one-stone situation.

After you've finished your iced tea, your grandmother insists on showing you around the house. "Gammy, come on, you really should sit down, at least a little," you try to convince her, but she's not having any of it. "I know it looks like it hasn't changed much, but I've had some things done since you were here last. Now you'll wanna know where everything is if you wanna help, right?"

You don't even bother contradicting her and she pulls herself up by the handles of her rollator with a triumphant look.

The first room you tackle is right by the entrance, opposite of the guest bathroom. It used to be your grandfather's office, but you're surprised to find it all turned around, now with a bed in the middle of it and an assortment of bedroom furniture to go with it.

"This is my new haven, at least for now." Grammy shuffles into the room and carefully plops her behind down on the raised bed. "Got help from a neighbor a street over. Nice young fella, handsome too." She shoots you a meaningful glance that you decide to ignore. "Him and his brother got some of the stuff from upstairs down here. I got this bed on loan just until I can get back into my old chambers upstairs. Doc said the stairs shouldn't be an issue, but I just wanted to make sure." A few approving pats on the mattress.

"I'm impressed, Grammy. I'd have thought you'd force yourself up the stairs every single night, no matter what. I'm glad you're cutting yourself some slack somewhere." You know your grandma appreciates your candor, but you also know how hard this situation is on her mentally. She has always been an active woman and being physically impaired can't be easy for her. You press a soft kiss to her forehead to emphasize your praise.

"Yeah yeah," she grumbles but then still squeezes your arm. "C'mon now. I wanna show you the upstairs."

The changes upstairs are less drastic, but still noticeable.

For one thing, the master bedroom is full of your grandfather's old files, various stacks piled around the room. It's a temporary set-up that you mean to sort through in your upcoming weeks here, a thank you for letting you stay and your way of chipping in, as your grandmother refuses to accept any kind of rent or payment in general for your stay.

Your own bedroom has also received a slight makeover. Previously a guest room that served as storage for when no guests were in town, the room used to be somewhat cramped, yet still cozy. You've always slept in this room and never minded the wild assortment of furniture and various gadgets, but your grandmother went all out in preparation for your visit and had all of the "junk" removed and stored in the garage downstairs. Now, on top of new furniture, the walls sport a fresh paintjob and the closet is completely empty, waiting to be filled with your own clothes and belongings.

"Grandma, you shouldn't have!," you exclaim but can't hide the excitement in your eyes as you take in your new four walls. The twin bed got exchanged for a queen, which, now that everything is stored downstairs, comfortably fits against the back wall under the window. Despite your solo-self, it comes with a nightstand on each side, matching the color of the dresser to the right and the desk tucked into the corner next to the door. Ever the prepared host, your grandma has already put a small bouquet on one of the nightstands and fresh sheets on the bed.

You spin around and bury your grandmother in a tight hug, suddenly overwhelmed by the love that clearly went into the preparation of your arrival. "You're the best," you whisper against her neck as a couple of tears spill from your eyes.

There's no place you'd rather be.

Your spend your first few days in Austin getting reacquainted with the city. As a child, you'd come here for every single summer break, so you know your way around the neighborhood well enough, but a lot has changed since you strolled around the streets in your dungarees and pigtails. Mostly it's just different shops or a new building here and there, but the neighbors have changed too. You're sad to find out that one of your favorite neighbors, an old man named George who grew the sweetest strawberries in his front yard, passed away just a couple of weeks ago. Another couple two houses down, whose daughter you used to play with on your childhood visits, has moved away to the north. The list of changes is long, but besides old George's death, there's nothing too drastic.

Just as expected (and hoped for), you have no time to dwell on your recent split. With the way the relationship went for the past years, you kind of checked out of it mentally a long time ago, but finding out about the affair still kicked you in the guts. Luckily, you're too busy to get lose yourself in a thought spiral about it, all thanks to your grandmother who is keeping you fresh on your toes.

Being the busy woman that she is, she has a whole list of errands for the week, consisting of groceries, check-ups and social calls. You keep thinking that if it wasn't for her rollator and her slower, slight wobbly walk, you'd hardly know the woman was operated on just days ago, and you're not alone. The same sentiment is expressed to you wherever the two of you go, your grandmother being a well-known and respected woman in her neighborhood.

On Saturday, just five days after your arrival, you take her to the local church. Despite not being big on faith, she has been a member of the volunteer group of the church for decades, and a cherished one at that. The moment you push her wheelchair through the door, other volunteers rush over and swarm your grandmother with questions about her well-being. Grammy makes a point of saying there's no need for the fuss, but you can tell that she's touched by the community's care for her.

The meeting discusses the idea of a block party that's been floating around for some time now, but was never realized.

"Lottie, do you even think you could handle it, being in recovery and all?," an elderly man asks directed at your grandmother. The look she shoots him in response drains some color in his face, and some other members at the table laugh. "I'm insulted you'd even ask, Frank," your grandmother replies with a hint of sourness in her voice, but then her smile grows wide and there's a mischievous spark in her eyes that puts you on high alert. You know that look. Your grandmother is up to something.

"Much as I hate to admit it though, you might be right. I'm not at the top of my game, no denying that. However, that's where my lovely granddaughter comes into play!" All eyes swivel around to you, including your grandmother's, the mischievous sparkle present as ever.

Uh oh.

"As many of you already know, my granddaughter has temporarily moved in with me to help me out during my recovery, gracious soul that she is." Gracious soul? Grammy is laying it on thick. You cock your head slightly to the side with raised eyebrows, all while maintaining a smile on your face. What are you doing? Your grandmother reads the silent question in your facial features but offers no explanation, her smile just turns more sweetly. "As a teacher, she has her fair share of experience with organizing events. Ain't that so, sweetheart?"

"I mean, I've organized two talent shows, but that was in collab-," you begin, still unsure of where this is going, but Grammy cuts you off.

"See? She's perfect. I'm sure she can fill my shoes just fine, and I'll still be there behind the scenes anyway."

Before you can utter another word, you are crowned as head of the block party planning committee. As soon as the decision is made, the group gets down to business and starts mapping out a rough draft. Besides the obvious cake buffet, whipped up and provided by members of the volunteer committee, the only other safe participant is the church's kids group, who, according to pastor William, plan to host a lemonade stand. By the end of the meeting, you have an extensive list of possible collaborators to hit up. As head of the committee, it falls in your jurisdiction to get local business on board.

"Alright, that looks like a solid list. I trust Lottie's granddaughter will do a fine job of getting lots of business on board." Pastor William smiles warmly at you and you can't help but feel like he's already forgotten your name again. Then again, he's got a big flock. Can't blame him if he doesn't remember every single sheep by name.

"And we've got Anne, Derrick and Kirsten for decorating, as well as our kids group. That just leaves the question of construction. Who's gonna supply us with stalls or booths? Any ideas, folks?"

"I'm sure Joel Miller would be happy to chip in. Him n' his brother got that construction business, remember? Sweet boys. Helped me set up my lil' hospital ward situation I got back at home," your grandma chirps up, and suddenly, you understand the mischievous twinkle in her eye.

What an elaborate and canny way to set you up. Wow.

You bite on your lip to hide the grin that threatens to spill across your face, keeping your laughter inside until after the meeting. Once you bring it up in the car back home, Grammy plays the innocent act. "I got no idea what you're talkin' about, honey. Just suggested a guy I know that does good work and has a good heart."

"Right, because especially the good heart is extremely relevant when it comes to building things," you chuckle.

"Sure it is, if it's volunteer work. And I'm tellin' you. That Joel, he's got a heart of gold."

You can sense the way your grandmother's eyes are boring into the side of your skull, but you keep your gaze focused on the road ahead of you.

Heart of gold or not, you're nowhere near ready to be dating again.

"Yeah, come on in, Lottie said you'd swing by."

It's late in the evening and his porch light hums above the two of you, casting a golden light on your silhouettes and long shadows on the ground. The fly screen creaks as Joel Miller holds it open for you. You shimmy past him with a small smile, tugging your folder of papers to your chest so they don't rub against him.

Joel's house smells like wood chips, old leather and something distinctly 'homey' that you can't quite put a finger on, but makes you feel very at ease. The scent engulfs you as you step into the house, briefly interrupted by smell of him, a mix of soap and aftershave and just the tiniest tinge of sweat.

It's an intoxicating combination.

So much so that for the briefest moment, you have the instinct to lean a step back and sniff him, but you catch yourself before you embarrass yourself.

"Kitchen's down there. Got a table and everything for your paper collection." Joel motions down the hallway with a quick and friendly wink at you. You follow his direction wordlessly and sit at the aforementioned table, feeling the tips of your ears growing slightly red.

Your grandma wasn't kidding when she said he's handsome.

You'd chalked it up to her trying to set you up, talking him up the same way elderly ladies tend to talk about men that are younger than them. 'Handsome' and 'smart-looking' are standards in that vocabulary box. You couldn't have known that this time, the description would be right on point.

"Want one?" Joel's got his head in the fridge, holding out a cold beer to you over his shoulder.

"Sure, thanks." Usually you're not so tight-lipped. In fact, you've probably talked more in the past few days than you do in a normal school week, and that's saying something. Going around town and chatting up local businesses about participating in your block party had your mouth going at a hundred miles per hour, figuratively speaking. Between speaking to people in person and confirming spots via your cell-phone, it has been a couple of very word-filled days.

And yet, now that you're with another potential 'client' you have to recruit for your endeavor, your speech well seems to have dried up.

It could have something to do with the fact that visually, Joel Miller is exactly your type. Besides his physique - tan biceps visibly stretching under a tight t-shirt that might be a size too small for him - he's got warm, brown eyes with laugh crinkles around them and a head full of salt-and-pepper hair that pairs beautifully with his scruffy-looking beard. By the looks of it, he has ten, maybe fifteen years on you.

Not really an issue for you.

Your ex, cursed be his name, was a chunk older than you too. It was just the type of man you drifted towards, the kind that's a bit ahead of you in time. In your experience, it pays off maturity wise in a way that men your age just can't compete in, even if your last boyfriend wasn't the best example.

Older men just have a grip on you you can't explain, nor deny.

"So." Joel sets the two bottles of beer down on the table, then slides onto the chair across from you. "What can I do for ya? Lottie said somethin' 'bout you guys needin' somethin' built?"

He screws the caps off of both bottles, then slides one over to you. "Cheers." Your bottles clink together and you take a few chugs, grateful for the liquid running down your dry throat. Whether that's from all your talking or a physical reaction to Joel, you don't know, and you're not sure you want to find out.

"Yeah, that's right," you finally say when you put your beer down half empty. Joel glances at your bottle with one raised eyebrow and half a grin on his lips, but doesn't say anything and instead motions for you to go on. "It's for the church's block party. The volunteer group, which my grandmother is a part of, is putting it together. It's supposed to be this come-together opportunity, get-to-know-your-neighbors kind of thing. I've been going around the past couple of days, seeing who wants to join and maybe offer a booth or a stall."

"Looks like you were quite successful with that." He nods at the wild stack of papers in front of you, post-its sticking out left and right and scribbles all over. You laugh and shuffle through the papers.

"It looks more than it is, but yeah, lots of people want to join, thankfully. Now that's where you come in." You pull out a numbered list and slide it over to him.

"This is everyone that wants to join. Problem is, we don't have enough booths for everyone."

Joel skims over the list, then whistles. "Phew. That's a bunch. How many of them you got stalls for?"

You pause long enough for Joel to look up from the list and notice you biting on your lip. "Umh. None of them?" Your grin is awkward and apologetic at the same time. Joel stares at you for a second, a dumbfounded expression on his face, then breaks out into a bellowing laughter. It's warm and deep and infectious and has the corners of your lips rising into a genuine grin.

"Oh, you're somethin'," he says breathlessly when he recovers from his laughing fit. "I can definitely see the relation to Lottie."

You shrug apologetically again and bite down on your bottom lip, the grin still lingering on your face. "What can I say? Persuasion runs strongly in this family."

"That so?" Joel leans back in his chair and puts his arms behind his head. Before you can help it, your gaze flickers across his across his arms, from his prominent biceps all the way down to where his torso meet his jeans. You look away quickly, but get the feeling Joel caught your stare by his smug grin. "I ain't said yes yet."

He does say yes. You come home giddy, excited by your success of rounding up participants for the block party and flustered from your hour at Joel's house.

It didn't take him long to officially agree, though you had no doubt that he would.

You also have no doubt that Joel Miller has been flirting with you.

There is even less doubt that you liked it.

You surprised yourself. By the time you wrapped your first meeting up, you asked for his number so you could reach him in case of changes or the like. Though the block party really was the main reason you required his number, you couldn't deny finding a little bit of joy in the idea of having his number in your phone. He had smiled all smugly too when you'd asked, his brows wiggling suggestively for just a second before he reached for the pen in your hand and scribbled his number down on one of your papers. "There you go, darlin'," he'd said, and you had to fight the urge very hard to bite your bottom lip at the mention of the endearing term.

It only occurs to you now that your grandma probably already has his number and you asking for his number could have come across as you flirting.

Oh.

"Honey, that you?," your grandma hollers out of the living room when you enter her home.

"Yeah Gammy, it's me," you call back and set your papers down on the side table near the front door.

"How'd it go?"

You tell her about your meeting with Joel in the most nonchalant way possible while you help her chop up veggies for dinner. She listens intently and is delighted that Joel has agreed to build the booths, but doesn't seem surprised by it either. Once you're finished with your summary, she gives you that inquisitorial look again.

"So?"

"So what, Gammy?"

"Don't fool me, honey. What'd you think?"

You keep your eyes focused on the carrot your peeling, determined not to meet her gaze. You just know she'd read everything in your eyes.

"Yeah, he's a nice man," you say, but she just tsks at you and swats your arm with her cooking spoon.

"You know damn well that's not what I asked."

"What do you want to hear then?"

The lack of reply makes you look up. Grammy is staring at you with an anything-but-pleased look on her face.

"What!," you exclaim defensively. Her response comes paired with another whack of her spoon. "He's a good man! You should give him a chance."

"Oh my god, Gammy. He has a kid." You groan, but pictures of Joel's biceps dance across the back of your mind.

"So? You're thirty-two, old enough to be a mom. 'Sides, I ain't tellin' you to marry the man, I'm just sayin' go out, have some fun."

"Oh well, in that case. If I'm not supposed to marry him."

You giggle and jump away when the spoon launches for you a third time, only narrowly missing you by a few inches.

Series Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist

Feedback is always appreciated! If you have any requests, feel free to send them my way. I'm always happy to practice my writing! :)

Find more entries for the hot dilf summer challenge by @hellishjoel here!

[tim-shii]

📱 break the internet !

sypnosis: you, blue lock boys and tiktok trends. what could possibly go wrong?

features: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, itoshi rin

a/n: not proofread i apologize also let me know if you want a part 2 !

okokokok / lalalala — isagi yoichi

isagi is the lalalala and the okokokok. he is both. he rambles to you a lot. talking about the things he passed by while on the way to you or maybe he'll talk to you about his most recent game where he scored the last goal. you don't know a lot about soccer? that's okay! isagi is more than happy to discuss to you how the game works and the terms commonly used on the field. 

however, isagi is also a great listener. he looks at you and focuses only at you as you talk. maybe you're complaining about your professor who loves torturing his students by assigning a new homework every hour. or perhaps you were telling him the latest gossip in the hollywood scene, god knows a new one pops up every two days, or maybe minutes. 

he's attentive to every word you say. and when you bring up the topic again another day, he butts in and smiles widely when you applaud him for remembering. it's like he has the key words and important notes listed in his head. of course, this also applies to everything you say in passing, whether you said it intentionally or not. 

on a monday morning, isagi will randomly knock at your door. a necklace in hand, one you mentioned during your date night five weeks ago.

heart photobooth — bachira meguru

bachira was the one who showed you the trend. braging in your shared room with a wide grin on his face before belly flopping beside you on the bed. he pushes the phone in your face, excitedly chanting let's do it! let's do it! so you say yes, of course. who can ever say no to him anyways.

he proposes to do three videos of the same trend. one with him doing the frames, another with you and one with both of you alternating to do the frames of four sides. you start off with being the frame. as you follow your arm along the line shown on screen, bachira runs around behind you trying to pose quickly as the timer before each snap is no longer than five seconds.

you laugh under your breath as bachira runs around, almost toppling over several times until he finally does. he slips on a lone sock laying on the ground and fell on his back. gasping, you run to his side and grab his face, silently muttering if he has a concussion or not. bachira only laughs at you then pulls you down with him, you head resting on his chest.

at the end you guys only got to film one video. but on the good side, said video went viral and many comments talk about how you two are such a cute couple and bullying the hell out of the sock bachira slipped on.

half and half heart on each other's cheeks — itoshi rin

convincing rin to do this was easy. just say you want a wallpaper and he's agreeing almost too immediately. he has thoughts of backing out when he sees you pull out a tube of lipstick though. he scoots closer when you usher him to. phone stood on a water tumbler, recording each passing second. 

you grab his face with one hand, turning so his left cheek is facing you. you drag the pigment in an almost c shape pattern along his chiseled features. smooshing your cheek with his as soon as the lipstick leaves his face. he grunts as he was taken aback, grabbing on your waist for support. he looks at you with a love in his eyes when you pull away and saw a matching c shape mark on your cheek. 

reaching out to stop the video, you pull rin closer to you again. this time, angling his face so a heart forms in between you two. seeing you struggle to take the photo, rin takes the phone into his arms and stretched out his arm, clicking it after. he pulls away from you to admire the picture. exiting the camera app and opening his contact to send the picture to himself at that very moment. he kisses your cheek while you're editing the video, chin propped up on your shoulder, warm breaths hitting your neck.

unfortunately, his teammates saw the video going around tiktok and constantly spams his phone. best believe, the only thing they're receiving from him is his cold shoulder and death glares. he's happy he has a new lockscreen though. and a cute one at that.

likes & reblogs are appreciated !

[momo-t-daye]

“Uh, Professor, er, sir,” Harry stumbled over the seldom-used honorifics in his bafflement. “Uh, on your mouth…?”

“Lipstick, Potter,” Snape sneered, the expression all the more pronounced with the cosmetic assistance.

“Oh, uh, it’s, um, it’s black?” Harry hadn’t known lipstick came in anything other than his aunt’s subdued pinks or the vivid shades of red that Petunia considered sinful and salacious (and intolerably reminiscent of Lily to ever be permitted back into the precariously normal life of Number Four, Privet Drive).

“Very good, Potter,” Snape said sarcastically. “Twelve years old and you’ve learned your colors.”

That was pure nastiness and entirely unfair.

“I’m fifteen!”  Harry protested, which earned him a merely sardonic eyebrow. “Almost fifteen,” he amended.  “I’ll be fifteen on Monday.”

Harry longed to surpass Snape in sheer churlishness and considered pointing out that muggle men generally didn’t wear skirts.  Certainly not in Little Whinging.  Definitely not when Dudley and his gang were roaming the streets.

He’d seen plenty of oblivious wizards sporting spiffy new dresses as their muggle disguises at the Quidditch World Cup the previous summer (a lifetime ago, before Cedric was murdered and he hadn’t been able to stop it from happening).  But there was something peculiarly well-tailored and suspiciously well-worn about the Potions Master’s garb that suggested less “disguise” and more “daily wear”. He found that his brain was oddly unwilling to acknowledge the existence of Snape’s psychedelic cardigan. His mind kept trying desperately to wallpaper something sensible over the bizarre image his eyes insisted on perceiving.

“…nice skirt,” he mumbled.

“Thanks,” Snape drawled the false gratitude out with a smirk. “It has pockets.  Dipshit and Dumbass there were too excited to get on the road this morning and didn’t give me any time to do laundry.”

“Am I ‘Dipshit’ or am I ‘Dumbass’?” Sirius whispered loudly, grin gone well past manic.

“I believe Severus called me a ‘dipshit’ among other things for forgetting to take my Wolfsbane last year,” Remus replied thoughtfully, “So, Sirius, that probably makes you the dumbass.”

“I’m more of a hot piece of ass, but okay,” Sirius said with a wink. “Hi, Harry!”

“Hi, Sirius,” Harry said weakly, glad for the excuse to sidle past Snape.  “Uh, what are you doing here?” The Daily Prophet hadn’t said anything about Sirius being pardoned and news like that, while less of an urgent headline than Voldemort’s return, wouldn’t lurk about in the society pages or behind an advice column.

“Dumbledore told me to lie low at Lupin’s place,” Sirius beamed with an innocence so intense it could only be artificial.

“And, er, well, what with one thing and another, it really hadn’t seemed like a good time really to mention that I’d been, ah, evicted,” Lupin added, “…again.”

“Renting really seems like such a bother,” Sirius opined. “So I bought a house for Remus here.”

“Oh,” said Harry, who had witnessed Aunt Petunia compulsively twitching the curtains as she tried to discover how Mrs. Number Seven had eluded neighborly surveillance and, somehow, managed to sell her house to a person or persons unknown to the remaining residents of Privet Drive. “Isn’t that supposed to take a long time?”

“Building a home takes a lifetime,” Sirius said sagely. “Buying a house just takes money.”

Snape’s scornful snort brought Harry’s attention back to the least welcome visitor to Little Whinging.

“So, uh, why did you bring,” Harry gestured vaguely, unsure if the word ‘him’ could accurately encompass the snidest professor present, “Snape?” He’d rather noticed that Snape hadn’t lifted a finger to help Sirius and Lupin move any of the large boxes from the lorry into Number Seven.

“Severus knows how to drive,” Lupin explained gently. Sirius’ mouth opened, prepared to protest.

“Severus,” Lupin repeated, louder this time, “Has a valid muggle license to drive.” Sirius’ subsided.

“And I know how to hot-wire cars and lorries,” Severus added smoothly. “And,” Lupin echoed wearily, “ Severus knows how to ‘hot-wire’ muggle vehicles.”

“I’m learning to do that,” Sirius said helpfully, “I’m going to figure it out too.  I’ve nearly got it.”

“Talk is cheap, Black,” Snape scoffed starting to stroll in the last direction Harry wanted him to go, “I’ll believe you when I see some tangible results.”

“Wait!  Stop!” Harry wondered if he’d get in trouble for tackling a professor outside of Hogwarts.  It would be worth it, to try to alter Snape’s trajectory towards the front door of Number Four.  “Stop, stop, stop!”

For all Harry’s desperate scrambling, Snape maintained his lead.

“Please stop!” Harry begged as the professor hitched up his skirt slightly, “Use the bell!  You don’t have to kick the door in!” Aunt Petunia was probably at the door, surely she’d spied them across the street at Number Seven.

Snape kicked the door, already unlatched in Petunia’s nosy anticipation, open.

Aunt Petunia let out a shrill little scream.

“Hello, Piss-Tuna,” said Severus Snape, far more gleeful than he’d been even when Harry and Ron were facing the threat of expulsion after flying a car into the Whomping Willow. “You look as awful as ever.”

Piss-Tuna, Harry thought as his world tilted on its axis, Snape, Professor Snape, just called my aunt Piss-Tuna.  This can’t be happening.

“You—!” Her face was white, her eyes were wide, and Petunia Dursley, n��e Evans, practically growled in her outrage.

Harry found himself thinking that Brazil might be a very nice place to live. It was far away from Privet Drive, for a start.  He wondered what it would take to get there.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in, Tuney?” Snape’s foot had blocked the door from closing.  “I’m more than happy to have this confrontation on your front step if you’d prefer.”

“We, ah, brought some biscuits,” Lupin added. “Store bought. Assorted.  With chocolate.  Er, I’m, ah, we’re the new neighbors. So nice to meet you again.”

Petunia goggled at the lot of them.

She also stumbled back, which Snape seemed to take as an unspoken invitation.  Harry found himself dragged along in the professor’s wake, with only Sirius’ hand on his shoulder to steady him in the swift tide of strangeness.

“I can’t believe your taste in interior decoration deteriorated into this level of disgusting kitsch and doilies, Tuna,” said the man who decorated with floating dead things in jars. Severus surveyed the photos on the wall, on the mantle, on the little side table.  So many perfectly posed pictures of a happy family of three- mother, father, son- and a lock on the cupboard under the stairs. Narcissa had been absolutely right.

“Is that my jumper?” Harry jumped.  Petunia’s voice was high and thin and quite peculiar.

“You’ve really done a terrible job of raising Potter,” said Snape, and Harry bristled. Of course Snape wanted to criticize him, Harry had been expecting the criticism, but he loathed the thought of his two biggest critics were now sharing notes and combining forces.

“Not only is he, like the majority of students, a careless menace in the laboratory, but I have also wasted entirely too much of my already limited time deciphering his atrocious penmanship to correct insipid essay after insipid essay only to see the same flawed reasonings repeated week after week.” It was news to Harry that he was supposed to read the sea of spidery red notes Snape deposited on every essay.  It seemed rather unfair, given that Snape could fit five lines of text for every one line Harry wrote. The single “P”, or the occasional and welcome “A”, was more than sufficient in Harry’s view.

“That’s my jumper.” There was a touch of hysteria in Petunia’s tone now.

“He will be taking his O.W.L.s this year, his O-levels if you prefer,” Snape continued, demonstrating more confidence in Harry’s continued survival than Harry typically expected to hear from the Potions Master. “Unfortunately, his current record of scholastic mediocrity, his stubborn refusal to revise, and a peculiar incuriosity about magical theory does not bode well for his continued academic career.”

“You little bastard! That’s my goddamn jumper!” Petunia’s shriek derailed Snape’s momentum.  The unexpected profanity from his aunt made Harry’s brain stutter to a halt.

“Tuna,” Snape frowned, “We’re not here to discuss my sartorial decisions and I will never take wardrobe critique from you.  I only deigned to enter this suburban hellscape to discuss your horrendous failure to raise and parent Mr. Potter.”

“Biscuit, Harry?” Sirius offered, retrieving the tin from Remus.

“You stole my jumper!” Shockingly, Petunia’s epiphany failed to shatter glass.  Yet.

“Didn’t,” sniffed Snape.

“I thought it was Lily who stole my jumper!”

“She did. I just hid it for her.” 

“I bought that jumper myself!  I’d saved up!”

“Yes, I know.”

“It was for an interview!”

“We wanted to spare you the humiliation of being seen in public wearing such a hideous thing.  You even got that position, even if you didn’t keep it for very long.”

The biscuit was rather good, even without tea, and it was beginning to dawn on Harry that Snape and Aunt Petunia were more inclined to tear into one another than join forces against him. He felt oddly inclined to cheer for Professor Snape, despite the ranting about Harry’s scholastic shortcomings. Perhaps it was because Harry knew so little about his mother that every glimpse was a pearl he treasured.

“I want my jumper!” Did she learn that tone from her little Diddykins or had Dudley inherited that petulant demanding pitch from Petunia?

“And I want you to understand how your failure to nourish any academic inclinations Mr. Potter may have shown before the age of eleven may have rather dire consequences for futures beyond his own, but I fear we can’t all get what we want.” Remus handed Harry another biscuit before he could think to protest.

“Give me back my jumper!”

“Fine!” Snape finally snapped, fingers tearing at the buttons in wrathful haste.  “Fine, here!”

Petunia caught the cardigan with her face and a squeak.

Severus Snape looked like a stranger again, in the ratty, oversized band shirt, hair disheveled from the jumper’s passage.  Harry hadn’t seen the Dark Mark his professor had shoved under Minister Fudge’s nose in the Hospital Wing those few weeks ago, and he found himself oddly glad that the mark was concealed under a peculiar leather bracelet with metal studding.  A wand holster, perhaps.

“Are you prepared to face your shortcomings now, Tuney?” That dangerously silky tone was entirely familiar, and Harry took another biscuit before he was told to go serve detention during summer vacation.

“It smells like Cokeworth,” Petunia’s complaint was bitter, for she dreaded the day her neighbors discovered the lingering taint of the Cokeworth streets sullying their Surrey security.

“Hey,” said Sirius, who had gone oddly still.

“I wasn’t going to take it to Hogwarts, was I?” Snape said.  “It’s acrylic, you know that sort of stuff doesn’t hold up around magic.”

“Hey,” said Sirius.  “Hey.” His face was a rictus of delight, as pleased as Petunia had been put out. “Snape. Isn’t that, isn’t that my shirt you’ve got on?”

“Oh, oh,” snarled Severus.  “Not you too!”

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

koa is my child 🥹🫶🏻 also i finished the video game au, its here

part fifteen

❝ EXPLODING GATORADE ❞

MONDAY — JULY 23 — 8:01AM

THE DINING HALL WAS THE SINGLE LARGEST ROOM BENTLEY HAD EVER SEEN IN HIS WHOLE LIFE.

It had to be, like, two whole gymnasiums put together. The whole thing had this old, restored hardwood, the walls lined with dark wainscoting. There were iron chandeliers dangling from the ceiling that had to cost more than his internal organs, and there were at least, like, three hundred fancy wooden tables peppered across the room.

Bentley blinked. There were lots of uniformed students in there (probably, like, a few hundred), filling the room with an overlapping buzz of excited voices, moving here and there, from table to table.

Redwood Academy also had the absolute bane of his entire existence -- a food line.

Bentley hated food lines.

As soon as they entered the dining hall, Valor, who was leading the pack (and getting stared at, because apparently even metahumans weren't very used to wings.) plopped his bag down at one of the tables closest to the door.

"Man, the line is already closed," He muttered. Which had to be the single most pleasant thing Bentley had heard all morning. At this point, he'd take absolutely anything to help ease his crippling anxiety.

“We did leave over half an hour after we were supposed to,” Koa replied, putting his bag on the round table, too, with a thump. Bentley followed behind them and chose a random wooden chair — Varian ended up to his left, Bellamy to his right. Asten was straight across.

“Don’t worry, I’m here to save the day,” Varian said from Bentley’s side — he looked… not so dead anymore. Presentable, with a little actual color to his skin and life to his eyes. He pulled his red backpack off his back and unzipped it, stuck his hand in, and retracted it with a whole box of s'mores flavored pop-tarts that he tossed on the table. “Ta-da.”

Bentley almost wondered why he carried around so many pop tarts, but he guessed it was incase his blood sugar went low throughout the day. Bentley was starting to understand him a little more — if the machine said it was low, eat. If it said it was high, push buttons.

That was pretty much the extent of his knowledge. (But it was more than it had been, like, two days ago. Which was good.)

Valor grabbed the box of pop-tarts and pulled one out, passing it along to Rockie.

“Does anyone have Ms. Heidi for English first period?” Koa questioned, pulling a schedule out of his pocket that already looked crumpled and torn, like it had been through a war. “I think I might die in her class alone.”

Bentley blinked, pulling his phone out of his blazer pocket and clicking it on. (He definitely hadn’t made his schedule his lockscreen wallpaper so he didn’t have to keep up with the page… and his home screen wallpaper definitely wasn’t the map of the campus buildings…)

He hummed in acknowledgment when he scanned the teacher’s name under his first period class. “I do.”

"Thank goodness," Koa breathed, grabbing the pop-tart box as Rockie handed it to him, pulling one out and sliding it to Asten. "We can suffer together."

Bentley wasn't sure he wanted to know what that meant.

"I have math first," Rockie announced with a shudder. He had already given up on opening his pop-tarts the right way and was now just shaking the bag violently, creating a loud rustling noise that made heads from a few surrounding tables turn. "Who wants to do math at eight in the morning?"

"Literally no one," Valor replied. Rockie's pop-tart flew out of his hand and hit Koa in the side of the head, to which Koa replied by impulsively throwing his own package of pop-tarts back at him. They hit Rockie's head with a flap and fell into his lap.

Bentley stayed quiet, watching the pop-tart box move from Asten, to Varian, and then to him. There was only one pack left by the time it made it to him.

He pulled it out, set the empty box on the table, and held it out toward Bellamy.

Bellamy looked at the silver package with a few shocked blinks, then shifted his gaze to Bentley, like he half expected him to snatch it away and laugh in his face as soon as he reached for it. Bentley didn't move -- only looked back at Bellamy for a quiet moment.

Eventually, Bellamy's gaze broke away from his own, and he slowly slid it out of his fingertips.

"I have trigonometry this year. Which translates to actual living hell," Valor muttered, taking a bite out of one of his pop-tarts. "And not a soul I know is in it with me."

"Ugh -- that's rough," Varian grumbled.

There was a sudden skidding noise, and Bentley looked down just in time to catch a pack of pop-tarts that was sliding across the table to him. When he glanced up, his eyes met Asten's.

He slid them back.

Valor kept talking, but Bentley didn't hear. He was too focused on the fact that Asten had narrowed his emerald eyes into nothing more than slits and was glaring at him like he'd cut off all his hair while he was sleeping.

Asten slid them back, again.

Bentley scrunched up his face at him, but Asten kept on glaring, like he was just daring him to slide them back. He got this triumphant look on his face when Bentley reached up and peeled open the silver packaging, pulling out one of the tarts.

Then he slid the other one back to him.

Asten feigned another glare as he caught the silver package, but said nothing; and even despite all the glowering he was doing, he never slid it back.

Bentley took a small bite out of the corner of the tart, which tasted like cardboard and very fake chocolate.

"You're eating these without a toaster? Psychotic, all of you," Koa grumbled, though he, too, was opening his package. "What a bunch of weirdos."

"No one puts pop-tarts in the toaster!" Varian argued, and Koa made an exasperated sound.

"They're called pop-tarts because they pop! Out of a toaster!"

“You’re canceled,”

Bentley simply watched the exchange play out in front of him, keeping quiet. If he listened hard enough, he could hear other conversations from around the room, and if he listened harder than that, he could hear hundreds of heartbeats. He made purposefully sure not to listen that hard.

Instead, he watched the other students move about the room. They were all wearing uniforms that matched his, except the girls were wearing green and gold checkered skirts that he was pretty sure some had rolled at the top so they were purposefully shorter.

There wasn’t much personalization that could be done with their uniforms, so most students seemed to take liberties with other things, like jewelry, makeup, and hair. There were a lot more kids at Redwood with colored hair than there had been at Gotham Academy. Asten had stuck out like a sore thumb there with his blue hair, but here, he sort of fit in — just in the dining hall alone, Bentley could see heads of blue, green, red, pink, and orange peppered across the room. Some of the girls wore dainty, pretty jewelry, while others covered every available part of their faces and ears with piercings, and had their wrists completely hidden from view by bracelets. There were some girls he wasn’t even sure what their faces looked like through all their makeup — and while there had been a few of those at Gotham, there were not nearly as many as there were at Redwood.

(He did guess Redwood was in New York, though — which probably made a big difference in variety. It took a special kind of person to settle down and have kids in Gotham.)

A few more minutes passed where he simply listened to his roommates chatter about everything and nothing, continuously glancing at the time on his phone. It felt like hours of listening and staring and checking until the time flicked from 7:54am to 7:55am, and a loud bell emanated through the hall, bouncing off the walls and echoing out the doors.

Everyone moved at once -- including everyone at his table -- the already loud chatter increasing in volume. Bentley stood and gathered his things with a sigh, shoving the rest of his half eaten pop-tart in his mouth. His first class was English, which was in the Austen building, he thought, which was… somewhere outside. Among the dozens of other buildings that all looked the same.

The seven of them integrated into the crowd of students moving like a school of fish toward the doors, and Bentley made sure to keep Koa’s curly blonde hair in his view, because he seemed to know where he was going.

As they worked their way out of the building with what seemed like every other teenager in the world, all packed into the halls like sardines, Bentley felt a tug on his blazer sleeve.

When he glanced down, Bellamy had the fabric balled up in one of his hands, staying close by his side to avoid getting lost in the crowd.

Bentley let him.

—

Completely unbeknownst to Bentley, the Austen building was all the way across the entire campus. Which left him and Koa no other option but literally running to make it there on time — which most of the students were also doing, so at least they didn’t look out of place. Bentley was one-hundred percent sure they looked like they’d just survived a hurricane by the time they stumbled through the doors of the building, and he was thankful there were no teachers in the nearly-empty halls to give them dirty looks about running indoors. The place looked very similar to the dorm buildings, though the halls were swirling by so quickly Bentley didn’t have much time to look in much detail — hardwood, fancy lights, and dark wainscoting was about all he really managed to catch.

He and Koa pounded up a few flights of wooden stairs, Bentley staying right on his heels. He’d said he knew where he was going, so he was relying on him entirely — thankfully, it paid off.

They crossed the threshold of a classroom Bentley definitely wouldn’t be able to find his way back to, mere milliseconds before the late bell rang.

(He was never leaving the dorm after seven again.)

Unsurprisingly, they seemed to be the last ones there. The room was large, set up like a lecture hall with several ascending levels of tables that were all curved to face a center podium. There was almost a whole wall of windows, one of which was open to let the breeze in. There had to be at least twenty-five other students in there, chattering softly, and even when he scanned the teacher’s desk nestled into the front corner of the room, there was no teacher in sight. All eyes were immediately on them -- Bentley took to scanning for empty seats instead of looking at anyone, which rewarded him with an empty two-person table in the very back left corner of the room, on the highest level.

Koa seemed to see it, too, because he was making his way there before Bentley even got a chance to move.

He followed behind, painfully aware of all the dozens of eyes that were on him, keeping his gaze glued to the hardwood that was moving under his feet. (Of course they’d be the last ones to class on their first day, looking ridiculous because they’d just run full-speed across the entire campus. Why wouldn’t they?)

He and Koa made it to the back desk without doing anything dumb, like falling or embarrassing themselves.

Bentley took a seat in the rightmost wooden chair and hung his backpack on the back of it. He took a minute to scan the room in better detail, this time -- all the available wallspace was taken up by various posters of musicals, plays, books, and the like. The desk in the front corner was littered with little figures and knick-knacks that looked really weird and confusing. There was a bookshelf shoved against the wall in every spot there could be, full of colorful hardcovers, a giant, multicolored rug spread on the lowest level beneath the podium, and curtains varying in color on all of the windows. It was then that he noticed the tables were numbered, too -- the one he and Koa had claimed had a blue laminated paper stuck on it, with the number 14 written on in fancy calligraphy.

“Where’s the teacher?” Bentley questioned softly, glancing over at Koa and unzipping his bag. He pulled out a blue binder that he had dubbed his English binder.

Koa sighed lightly when he sat down in his chair, pulling out a small ringed notebook from his bag.  “You’ll see.”

Bentley said nothing; but, for the record, he did not enjoy the cryptic responses.

“Have you had her class before?” He continued, and Koa glanced over at him, nodding.

“Yeah, I had her last year. She’s very… eccentric,”

“What’s that mean?”

“Weird,”

Well, at least she wasn’t going to kidnap them and turn them into metahumans, Bentley thought sourly. The class continued to sit and chatter, reveling in the newfound freedom of, apparently, having no professor at all. There were two tables of girls a few rows in front of them that kept giggling and looking back, their faces flushing pink every time they stole a glance to their table. There was a table of two boys next to them, too, who kept looking at the girls, then across the room at Bentley and Koa like they were considering murder.

It didn’t take a genius to realize those girls were utterly mesmerized by Koa. (Why wouldn’t they be? He was California.)

As much as Bentley expected him to make some kind of response, he just sighed, turning to face him instead. “So… how are you liking Redwood so far?” Was what he came up with to say, though Bentley was pretty sure he was just trying to get those girls to stop being so weird about him.

Bentley shrugged, glancing down at his binder. “I mean, I like it. I like you and our roommates, but the party thing was a little… stressful.”

Koa shrugged. “I get that. Sorry, by the way. I guess we should’ve given it some thought before going and getting everyone drunk with new kids in the dorm.”

“It’s okay,” Was all Bentley said. “You don’t have to change what you do on my account.”

Koa shrugged, glancing down at his notebook. “Not just you -- I’m pretty sure Bellamy is traumatized.”

“Why?” Bentley questioned. Koa glanced back up at him with a shrug.

“He was sleeping on the couch when Valor started dragging us all back to the dorm. We were all pretty sick and out of it, woke him up. He ran to his room and I’m… pretty sure he started crying. But I’m not sure why,” Koa admitted, blinking at the table beneath his hands. “He’s… I don't know. Seems really… young. I’m not sure why they roomed him with us. I think he’s horrified of all of us except you.”

Bentley shrugged lightly. Why, of all people, did Bellamy gravitate toward him? He wasn’t like Dick, or Jason, or Bruce, or any of the people he gravitated to when he was younger.

No, he was like Tim. Tim who had anxiety, too, who thought he was a burden, who wanted the very best for everybody but himself. Tim who dealt with the same things Bentley dealt with, who knew what to do because he’d been through it, too. 

Was that why Bellamy…?

“Do you think he’d be more comfortable with kids his age?” Bentley questioned, glancing down at his binder, then back up at Koa.

Koa shrugged, repeatedly flicking the pages of his notebook. “I’m not sure he’d be comfortable anywhere. Feeling safe at this school is a process for everyone, since pretty much none of us have pleasant backgrounds.”

Bentley hummed in agreement, quietly noting the fact that Koa had basically admitted to not having a pleasant background, tabling that fact in the back of his mind. He didn’t know much about Koa, really, other than the fact that he was from California and lived with a really young guy who took care of him. He wondered where he came from.

Suddenly, a crumpled up piece of letter paper hit Koa in the back of the head with a quiet thwack, bouncing down onto their table. Bentley blinked, glancing across the room to see who it’d come from -- the four girls were now quieter, facing forward, and the two boys were watching them like hawks with these mischievous looks on their faces.

Koa rolled his eyes, grabbing the paper and unraveling it. Bentley could see words and a drawing faintly from the underside, but he couldn’t quite make it out. So he paid attention to his expression instead, watching carefully as Koa scanned the words, seeming mostly unbothered -- but his eyes widened slightly when they flicked down to the drawing. He kept his expression closely bridled, probably to not give the other boys the satisfaction they wanted, but Bentley was in-tune enough with the subtleties of people's mannerisms (thanks to his father.) that he didn’t miss the quiet inhale Koa sucked in upon first glance at the doodle, the way his eyebrows pitched inward the slightest bit. Bentley heard those other boys laughing and muttering from across the room.

Koa crumbled up the paper again and shoved it in his blazer pocket, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t look at anyone, either.

Bentley glanced over at the pair of boys, who were chuckling and laughing amongst themselves. The left one, one with black hair and dead, brown eyes, turned back toward Koa and made a sad face where he puckered his bottom lip out. Then he laughed with his friend and reached into his bag, withdrawing a bottle of red Gatorade. 

So Bentley just sat there, looking awfully innocent as the drink all but exploded in his face with a pop. Red liquid went everywhere -- up his nose, in his hair, all over his uniform and the table and his friend. The girls next to them burst into laughter, as did most of the other students around the room.

Koa blinked a few times, then glanced over at Bentley, who looked back at him and shrugged lightly.

A small smile tugged on the corners of Koa’s lips, and Bentley watched the boy rise from his desk, wiping his red-coated face with the also-soaked sleeves of his blazer. “What the hell, McClaine?!”

Koa shrugged innocently. “You know what my powers are -- I didn’t do a thing.”

Apparently, Bentley either looked too innocent and harmless, or the mean guy didn’t want to waste time on him -- because he marched out of the classroom, closely followed by his friend, and left all the other students catching their breath from laughter. 

Koa glanced over at him, smiling lightly. “Thanks,” He whispered, though it still had sort of a sad sound to it, if he listened hard enough.

Bentley smiled faintly back at him. “You’re welcome.”

--

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @flyrobinflyy @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere @skylathescholarly @beatyoutothatusernameloser

[elenadoeslife]

Monday, July 1st 2024 - day 1

This morning I did my first weigh-in. I plan on checking my weight once a month, depending on when I'm staying with my parents (I don't own a scale for mental health reasons, so I can only check my weight here);

I ordered a tester pack for some new vitamins. Before I used gastric bypass vitamins, but now they offer vitamins specifically for the mini gastric bypass;

I made a grocery list for this week's food prep;

I decided to quit smoking. Mostly because it's just way too expensive and I want to save up money for our new place, but since it'll also be good for my physical health, I figured I'd add it to this list. Smoking the last one as we type;

I tried making a cold brew protein coffee (lactose free milk, refrigerated coffee and a quarter of a scoop of vanilla protein powder) and it actually tastes pretty good;

I picked up some high protein pudding while I was getting groceries for my mom. I've wanted to try this brand for ages, so I bought 2 flavors. Already tasted one (chocolate) and it was great;

I was supposed to eat pizza for dinner, but I'm gonna have a whole wheat bun with a boiled egg and cheese instead - progress;

This evening I'm having coffee with my cousin, aunt & mom for my cousin's birthday tomorrow. Afterwards I'm taking the train back home;

I made a cute lil' wallpaper from a picture that I took last week. Added a quote for the ~vibes~.

[jesytr]

it was previously the moment of getting hired into Arkham Asylum when Harleen believed maybe she didn't want to be a part of the team. they gave her clients as a psychiatrist, and she ran with each of them. carefully pulling back the layers of childhood trauma, and the corporate justice system that seemed to make more, and more money for the state petitionary.

each inmate ranged from criminally insane to a more stable, and manageable clientele. though each seemed to almost lack in what she was looking for. what she wanted to find in someone. it wasn't easy to express her boredom for it all. going through the motions felt like a daily chore. she remembered when she had been told that she should've worked at a different hospital, and it was starting to feel like she should... then she found @jokethur was put into the system. and her curiosity led her straight to her boss. in which she asked to be assigned his case.

it wasn't so cut and dry, but she did manage to get on his team. which seemed extensive enough for her to be accepted as his main therapist. treatment beginning every Monday, and Fridays. enough to keep her guessing. ' how did a guy like that end up in here ? '

" well , " her freshly dyed blonde hair sat up in a ponytail and on her nose was her typical set of glasses. she had trained herself in the mirror that morning down to the last detail of how she was going to reintroduce herself to arthur. she would extend out her hand, and say, ' nice ta' meet cha' again, ol' pal - how'd ya' end up in the slammer ? ' but no. not like that. instead maybe she'd try, ' looks like we're both in here now! therapy buddies ?? ' instead she ended up clearing her throat when she was finally in the same room as him. standing in front of Arthur from her desk. after they brought him to her office. she dismissed the guards , and smiled, " ya' can sit there. " swooping her arms out to the couch in the room.

she picked up a clipboard and sat back down without waiting for him to do so himself. glancing through the papers that had personal information on him, " I uhh --- wasn't expecting ta' see ya'. " not like this anyways, " come ta' my surprise ta' find ya' here. " she cleared her throat again. eyeing the clock behind him set in her office just near the door, " first session - ya' got an hour. " she knew she had to be professional. especially since all sessions would be recorded for the board of directors to look over.

her office wasn't especially fancy or anything for the most part it had a teal wallpaper to it and some feel good uplifting posters such as a cat hanging on a branch saying ' hang in there! ' and a little kid holding a red balloon, along with a ' live. laugh. love ' that she personally picked out. she had a small desktop with a mug with a clown on it with a droopy frown, but bright red hair. she also had a laptop to keep notes on throughout the session. she picked up her pink pen, and began to write down the time , the date, as well as any noticing quirks she could pick up on right away about him.

[the-fiction-witch]

Seventeen P31 - 39

Media TMR AU X Seventeen Series

Character Newt

Couple Newt X Reader

Rating Sweet + Flirty af

I smiled so wide my cheeks hurt, I didn't even care how little sleep I had gotten. I smiled and pulled my pillow even tighter wrapping my legs around the pillow too peppering the soft cotton with kisses.

"Good morning y/n" I smiled squeezing the pillow even tighter "ummm did you sleep well? Yeah? Hummmm" I smirked biting my lip "Yeah? You wanna snuggle? No? Ohhh you wanna make love? Hummm well who am I to deny my darling her desires" I smirked squeezing and kissing my pillow and grinding against it playfully

"Isaac sweetheart you want fruit loops or cinnamon toast for breakfast?" My mum said as she opened the door to my room

"Mum!" I yelled moving the pillow away and grabbing my covers to conceal my erection though as it was pretty obvious through my boxers

"Ohh goodness-" she gasps shutting the door again "Oliver! I think you need to have another one of those... chats with your son" she yelled

"What are you going on about Alice?" My dad yelled back from their bedroom

"Ughh! Mum means Newts Wanking again!" Sonya yelled from her own room

"Again? I think he needs to skip the cereal love, it's increasing the libido and production far too much"

"Privacy. In this house. Can I have some please!" I yelled

"You get privacy when you're eighteen" my mum warns hitting my door "Now leave that pillow alone and come down for breakfast"

I sighed and got out of bed getting some fresh clothes on even if I had to give myself a decent adjustment given I was still very hard but I slipped my orange and black button-down on as an overshirt I heard a noise.

Buzz buzz

My phone!

I bolted over grabbed it from its charger and opened it up to see the most wonderful of notifications from the name I put in yesterday

Y/n <;3:

Morning Newt x hope you had a nice night just got to the gym with the girls

So I happily texted her back

Newt:

Morning love X yeah I hope you had a good night too :) you have fun with the girls at the gym, don't work yourself too hard

Y/n <;3:

You're are so sweet x but that's really up to Teresa she makes the plans for everyone I will work as hard as she tells me to

Newt:

Oh, well if she does push you a little too hard maybe I can treat you to another slushie on Monday xx

Y/n <;3:

I'll hold you to that &lt;3

Ummmmm y/n my darling, I put my phone in my pocket and headed down to the kitchen where everyone else sat having breakfast there was silence at the table as I poured some cereal and milk having a couple of spoonfuls before my dad broke the silence.

"Okay. We need a chat"

"Newts in trouble" Sonya laughed

"Dad I wasn't wanking. I was just in bed that's all"

"No no this isn't about that." He says folding his Sunday paper and setting r down beside his coffee "I am sick to death of the name calling, arguments, bickering, complaining, tadletailing, the fights for the bathroom every morning, the constant complaints about space and privacy. I have had it. And you kids can't seem to be mature adults and put it aside so after much long debate your mother and I have come up with a solution." He explained

I merely chewed my cereal sheepishly

"We are clearing out the basement"

For a moment there was a stunned silence and a mild wave of confusion as too if that's what he meant to say and then how that sentence connects to the first.

"Okay... as a bonding exercise?" Sonya asks clearly as confused as me

"Well to some extent," he shrugs

"No we are going to clean out the basement and one of you will be moving down there"

"Into the basement!" Sonya yelled

"Yes, it's a very large room bigger than both your bedrooms, with its own bathroom"

"Yeah and probably a million spiders!" Sonya complained

"I take it you don't want the basement?"

"No!"

"Newt do you have any issues with the basement?"

"...can I do anything I want with it? Furniture? Wallpaper? Can I mount my own TV?"

"You can do whatever you want provided you don't disturb the water heater"

"I'll take it!"

"And what about me?"

"And once Newts emptied his room... well call a contractor. Put an arch in that wall"

"So I get my room and Newt's room!"

"Yes, is this agreeable?"

"Yes!" We both jumped

"But you two have to get it cleaned out"

"Will you take me shopping? To furnish my new basement?"

"Yes but you keep your bed and you keep to a budget"

"Deal!" 

As soon as I finished with breakfast I bolted to the basement door and down the stone stairs clicking the light on to show off the room better.

The large room with grey walls and floor, a bunch of boxes stacked around the place with various household junk, the old sofa from the living room, a small bathroom under the stairs with a shower and bath, toilet and small sink but no door, the water heater in the back corner two small windows to the outside garden, and one light bulb on a old wire. Immediately I sat on the stairs and began to plan my first job to remove all the boxes of stuff. So I started on those closest to the stairs most of it either needed to be tossed or to be put in the attic with other seasonal and memory stuff

"Hey" sonya says as she came down and began to help

"Your helping me?"

"I want your room, I'm gonna use it as a walk in wardrobe. The quicker this gets done the quicker I get my huge room"

"Fine, and I don't have to deal with fighting you for the shower anymore. And I get my cool basement room"

"Whatever" she said as we got on with the slow work but we made good progress finishing the last few boxes by lunch "where's your phone?" She asks as she dug thought a box

"On the sofa," I answered absentmindedly as I looked through a box. It was mostly old family pictures and things, weddings, parties, grandparents and such but I spotted one that for a moment gave me pause.

It was a fairly aged photo with speckled white grain the corners slightly folded and rubbed, for a moment I thought it was me but that would have been stupid.

It was dad.

Sat on the same bleachers that still sat on the track field at school, brown trousers higher then they likely should have been, a white button down with a orange and brown striped knit sweater vest, his face so much like mine I finally get why so much of our family compares me to him the only real difference the thick black frames and darker hair as both Sonya and i's blonde class far more from our mother. But in one hand were some books and the other around a young girl in a flag girl uniform with blonde hair up in a bun.

It's strange I suppose to see my parents like ... people. To remember they had a whole life before they became my parents.

I put it away in the box and picked it up taking it to the top of the stairs for dad to decide what to do with

"Here" Sonya says as she handed me back my phone a she delt with another box

"Thanks what did you want It for anyway? Check the time?"

"My phone's upstairs" she shurgs "and I found his cute, adorable picture that I just had to share"

"-What - what picture?" I stuttered

"This one, I figured y/n would love to see it. Aren't you just so cute? In your little bath with your ducky. You can even see your little butt" she smiled showing me a photo album that did indeed have a photo of me.

I couldn't have been any older then a year old maybe less laid on my stomach butt naked in a bubble bath with my old duck plushie

"Bye newt!" She giggled taking her box and scampering upstairs before I could chase after her

I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die. 

Buzz Buzz

Oh dear god please tell me that's not y/n. Please tells me that's just tommy asking about the science homework.

I was almost too scared to look but I knew I had to I forced myself to look and saw it was y/n so quickly opened her message seeing she had seen the phone and has responded

Y/n <;3:

Awwww, newt I didn't know you had a baby brother

Ohh she doesn't think it's me! Okay I can work with that I can fake having a baby brother... can I? I mean it can't be that hard right. I highly doubt my parents are going to be thrilled about me faking having a baby brother, I don't know how well I'd be able to keep that up. And I really like y/n do I want to start our relationship on lies?

Newt:

No, no I don't. we're cleaning out the basement. Sonya thought it would be funny send you that old picture of me I'm really sorry about that.

Y/n <;3:

I thought that might have been the case,

You were a very cute little baby newt X

Don't worry about it I thought it was sweet have fun clearing out x

And then she sent a picture of her in little blue shorts, some trainers, a loose fitting top and sports bra her hair up tightly her headphones in clearly on the treadmill at the gym

Newt:

Thanks X awww you look really cute too x

Have fun at the gym.

I smiled putting my phone away and cleaning up sweeping, moping, dusting, cleaning the years worth of dust from the bathroom dumping loads of chemicals down the drains, letting all the taps run and such as the bathroom has pretty much been inaccessible for a good couple of years. All while thinking to myself what I was going to do with the place.

"Oohh lovely, you've done a good job. Now DIY store closes at four shall we get going?" My dad says as he heads down

"Ohh yeah absolutely" I smiled grabbing a pad and pen from my room and getting into the car with him starting on my list as we drove

"Planning?"

"Yeah"

"I'm sure you'll add your personal touches"

"What's my budget?"

"Let's say three hundred bucks today. That's the usual price for the work needed to turn your old room into an extension of Sonyas anymore we'll sort accordingly so it's fair"

"Thanks for this dad"

"It's fine. Sick of the bathroom fights. Plus that room was getting small for you anyway, especially after you finish school"

"True."

"And... give you and this little lady some privacy"

"She's not my girlfriend dad. Atleast not yet"

"Do you want her to be?"

"Very much"

"Then you'll need the privacy." He says as we parked up.

My dad and I headed through the store, luckily there weren't many people around My dad had the pallet cart as we went around grabbing various things I wanted for my basement room. grabbing some towels, a bathroom shelf for in the shower, a little set for soap, my toothbrush and such, a nice mirror with some lights on, a few nice pillows and a cover for the sofa, a little shelf unit for my collections, a little coffee table, a little wooden unit for my tv stuff, some little curtains for the small windows, a new fitting for the one light, and a couple of other homewear stuff to personalize the place not too much given pretty much everything from my bedroom is coming down with me, and my dad grabbed some stuff and the card for a contractor to come and open up the wall between me and Sonya's rooms. 

"You done?"

"I think so," 

"You'll have to remember to add your bathroom utility bits to the weekly shopping list"

"I will do" I smiled 

"You sure you don't wanna ... grab a little container?" He asks offering a little wicker container from the side 

"Uhh what for?"

"For in your bathroom," 

".... Okay"

"For lady items," he said "Ladies appreciate when boys have stuff for them makes them feel supported"

"Good point" I nodded adding it to the cart 

"When do we get to meet this y/n anyway?"

"I don't know, we're not like dating or anything Dad"

"But you texting?"

"Yeah"

"and walking each other home"

"Yeah"

"Have there been kisses?"

"....Maybe" I blushed "Little kisses, cheek kisses is all"

"I'm sure we'll be seeing her soon then" he chuckled as we headed to the check-out "How about when we get home we throw everything down into the basement and move all your stuff down there then we can just leave you to your design work" 

"Sounds good" I nodded helping as we scanned everything and dad paid so I happily helped excitedly heading out to the car 

"You excited?"

"Of course, I weirdly like interior design"

"What are you most excited about?"

"Uhhhhh.... hummm"

"putting your Tv on the wall?"

"Kinda, I think I'm most excited for my little self unit I can finally property display stuff" 

"Alright lets get your butt home then so you can get working" 

As soon as we got home we moved My stuff downstairs box after box and eventually my furniture too meerly leaving it in the basement.

"Right you have everything you need, call you for dinner"

"Thanks dad" I smiled before he headed up and out the basement or well my room now.

I put on some music and got to work moving furniture and generally sorting the place out which took a good while until At Last collapsing on my bed. And looking at the place.

The large gray basement with the staircase up to the house in the bottom left corner with the bathroom under the stairs, the bottom wall now had my little TV and game stuff set up with the sofa pushed close with a rug and the small coffee table, the water heater in the back corner, my desk with my computer setup at the side along with the shelf where I had set up all my snow globes and other little accumulations, as well as my wardrobe and chest of draws with the wardrobe in the top right corner, the curtains on the little windows and my bed against the wall with my beside table. Of course I still had some stuff to do like the light and a few things I'd need to buy online but I was so happy having a nice private space.

Buzz buzz

I quickly grabbed my phone and smiled as I saw her text

Y/n <;3:

Hey x all done at the gym How'd it go with the basement?

Newt:

Whoa you were there a long time, all good now it's my bedroom

Y/n <;3:

Wow! I bet it looks great

Newt:

I can send a pic if you wanna see?

Y/n <;3:

It's okay I can wait, I'd rather see it in person xx

Newt:

Well you'd more then welcome maybe one night your free you could come over? I could show you the basement and we could run lines?

Y/n <;3:

I'd love to newt x

Just maybe... call it your bedroom, not gonna lie I think it's gonna scare some ladies away if you invite them to 'Come over and spend the night in your basement'

Newt:

Yeah good point x

"Newt! Dinner!' My mum yells

"Coming!" I called back

Newt:

Sorry dinner, got to go

Y/n <;3:

Me too maybe we can chat again later x

Newt:

I'd like that love X 

I got up with my alarm and yawned as I rubbed my eyes pushing back the covers and climbing out the bed

"Ahhh cold floor!" I whined as met feet touched the ice-cold floor so I scampered to the rug "note to self by another rug" I nodded I put my music on and headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth while the shower heated up checking my phone as I did

Y/n &lt;3

Good morning x

Ummm my little y/n, she such a sweetheart.

Newt:

Good morning love X sleep okay?

Y/n &lt;3

Unfortunately not

Newt:

No? What's up?

Y/n &lt;3

I think I'm getting Ill that's all

Newt:

Ohh you poor thing, I did say not to overwork yourself at the gym yesterday. Don't push yourself too hard today okay

Y/n &lt;3

I'll do my best

I set my phone down and jumped in the shower scrubbing myself nice and clean before climbing out with my towel and relaxing on the sofa as I got dry, soon enough I picked out my clothes for the day and for dressed into my jaded grey jeans, and grey shirt, loose fitting dark green and red button down rolling my sleeves up and fixing my hair before I grabbed my stuff and headed up to breakfast

"Morning"

"Morning basement boy" Sonya laughed

"I think it's cool, it's like I've got my own little apartment down there" I laughed grabbing some breakfast

"Lunch" my mum smiled handing the bag over

"Thanks mum" I smiled taking it and stuffing it in my bag

"Why are you back to pack lunches again? You miss lunchables?" Dad asked

"I mean kinda. But I've got drama rehearsals at lunch and scholastic after school so haven't really got alot of time"

"Alright have fun" mum smiled

"Will do" I smiled giving them both a hug before headed out to the porch waiting under the stoop to hide from the rain as I put in my headphones Sonya came out not long after and ignored me as usual heading down the street alone so I went on with my music. I got on the bus as soon as it arrived and kept checking my phone incase she messaged I wanted to texted her but I didn't want to seem... needy. Once we got to school I went to my locker as usual doing the shift around I often do on Monday making sure everything is where I need it for the week.

"Morning" Thomas smiled as he arrived at his own locker

"Hey Tommy"

"So... physics"

"Your on your own Tommy"

"What!"

"I did have time"

"Ohh what you been texting y/n all weekend?"

"How do you -"

"Newt, just accept anytime I know anything about you and y/n that you didn't tell me. Teresa told me" 

"What do you and Teresa talk about other than me and y/n?" 

"The State of the Economy" 

"Really?"

"Yeah,"

"You.... you have a weird relationship, Tommy"

"At least I'm in a relationship,"

"I'm making progress, we send little kisses now"

"I've heard,"

"But I've been doing a lot of stuff I've moved rooms now so I had a busy weekend"

"Moved rooms?"

"I live in the basement now"

"Like a weird uncle?"

"No! Like a cool hip teen"

"Like a weird uncle" He nods

"It's cool! I have a sofa, and I'm thinking of buying a projector"

"Okay projector movie nights in a basement does sound cool, we should set up a movie night and get some pizza and popcorn"

"We should. But I have no physics help so we're all alone. I've also done so studying so... I may be a bit fucked"

"Yeah, you are definitely fucked" 

I sighed putting my stuff in my locker and grabbing my lunch 

"How bad did that go for you?" Thomas asked

"Uhhhh... Bad" I sighed "But it's over, Come on we have rehearsals"

"You excited to see your girlfriend?" he joked

"You excited to see Your girlfriend?" I glared back

"Course, I'm dating the head cheerleader I'm always excited to see her" He laughed as we headed through to the drama room and I found myself a seat as he met with Teresa,

"Hi Newt" I heard behind me so I turned and smiled as I saw her

"Hi y/n" I smiled seeing her as she came over and sat on the chair beside me, she had little black sneakers today, light blue leggings, a little black denim skirt, and a little blue fluffy jumper with the sleeves pulled down to her hands so she could ball them up, very little makeup on her face so much even I noticed she had more makeup on in her pic at the gym then she did today, her hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail with a little blue scrunchie "You okay?"

"Yeah, Just not really feeling that great today"

"Ohh you poor thing, you don't look so good. I mean you look nice obviously but -"

"Thank you newt, but it's okay I know I'm not my usual cute cheerleader today"

"Well I still think you look very nice"

"Thank you" she smiled 

"Right kids I hope you've all been reading your scripts as we begin blocking" Miss Mary began "Nowhere better to begin than the beginning let go" she said 

So everyone for the opening scene got up with their scrips 

"Are you going to be okay?" I asked her

"I should be" She smiled taking her script and heading up with everyone else 

I wasn't needed for the first number so I got comfy keeping my script so I could keep track of where we were while I had my lunch often meeting y/n's eyes she was clearly nervous and not doing so well but I made sure to give her a smile which often made her smile a little

"Alright let's run it through from the top scripts in hand"

"September 1st 1989, Dear Diary..." She began 

We didn't even get to me needing to rehearse today but we made good progress on the opening number even if we overran a little meaning everyone was late to our next classes having to rush off quickly. The rest of the day was pretty uneventful so I headed to scholastic sitting and doing as little work as usual given we didn't need to do much. Miyoko pretty much had all of this in the bag and the rest of us merely used the room to sit down and snack on what I hadn't eaten from lunch.

"Alright kids, get off now before the track practice lets out and blocks the car park up" Jorge told us as we finished the last practice question 

I didn't waste any time as dark clouds were looming and it would likely rain before I got home so I got my stuff and scampered through the school, and out to the car park and once again I found myself stopped by the light of the track field. 

I should really get home I'll get soaked if I don't... 

But I do wanna check in on y/n she if she's still okay. 

So I headed into the track field seeing the cheerleaders doing a routine but y/n wasn't with them? I saw her with her back up in the bleachers with her script so I headed up and sat beside her 

"Hi Y/n"

"Ohh Hi newt" she smiled putting her script back in her bag 

"What are you doing up here?"

"Teresa said it would be best I stay up here today"

"Awww, because you're not feeling well?" I asked and she nodded sadly 

"And I didn't wanna anything happen to my uniform, it stains I have to buy a new one," she says shuffling her feet 

"Ohh,"

"I miss my uniform"

"Yeah you look really cute in your uniform, but I still think you look really nice. I actually kinda like this outfit better" 

"Really?"

"yeah, I mean of course you look good as a cheerleader. But I really think you look cute like this it's less cheerleader more... you. You don't blend into the back of the cheer squad like this" 

"I thought everyone loved the cheerleaders"

"Everyone does, and if you like your cheer uniform you should wear it but if you want to wear some other outfits somedays, I think it makes you look really pretty"

"Thank you newt" she smiled 

"Are you feeling okay? I've been kinda worried about you all day"

"That's sweet, I'll be okay," She says "I'm pretty used to it" she smiled 

"Can I ask what is wrong? you don't have to tell me if you don't want to"

"It's okay newt it's just that time of the month"

"Ohh." I nodded "Uhh here" I said grabbing my bag and having a dig around for a moment "Did you want some painkillers? I've been packing them every day since the incident with Ben"   

"You don't mind?"

"Of course not, you're in more pain than I am" I happily handed them over to her and she quickly took one 

"Thank you newt, that's very sweet" she smiled moving to lean her head on my shoulder wrapping her hands around my arm 

"You're welcome, whatever I can do to help," I told her putting the packet away in my bag 

"Is that a chocolate bar?" She perked up a little as she spotted the last part of my lunch a small Milky Way chocolate bar 

"Ohh yeah guess I didn't eat it at lunch"

"... Could I be cheeky?"

"Depends?"

"Could I have it?"

"You want my chocolate?"

"Ummmm" she nods "I'll trade you a fruit roll-up?" 

"Don't worry about it" I smiled handing over the Milky Way, 

"Nooo I feel bad-"

"Don't worry about it, really love"

"Are you sure? I feel bad just taking it and not giving you anything for it"

"It's okay, I know chocolate helps so you can have it" 

"You're too sweet" she smiled nuzzling a little closer

"Well, I don't like to see you in pain," I told her 

"newt?"

"Yeah?" I asked turning a little to look down at her as she nuzzled on my shoulder she smiled up at me and moved closer giving my lips a soft little kiss barely even a second, her lips so sweet and soft with a gentle cherry sent, before she pulled back and nuzzled herself into my neck and tightened her arms around my arm 

"Thank you Newtie" She smiled 

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhh" was all that arrived in my mouth "You uhh you're welcome" I blushed hard trying not to faint but I smiled widely and held her arm gently and leant my head on hers too. 

as much as I utterly adored our little cuddle the clouds only grew darker so I spoke up,

"Hey? If you're not actually cheering we could start the walk home? try and beat this rain?"

"They don't like me to leave early"

"They won't notice, I won't tell I promise" 

"I would, but my dad's picking me up tonight"

"Ohh okay sorry"

"No, it's okay, if you like I can get him to drop you off at home so you don't have to walk"

"You don't have to"

"No no, it's no trouble" she smiled 

We watched the track guys practice and her cheer girls run through routines often getting closer and every so often sharing a little kiss I felt so utterly happy so peaceful like I just wanted to squeeze her in my arms and fall asleep but I was right and when the rain came it came with a score to settle. The rest of practice was cut off as the track got rained out in minutes, the car park drain overflowing and flooding the car park with a good few inches of water luckily we hid under the bleachers waiting as many got in their cars and scampered 

"There he is!" she says spotting her dad's car pulling in almost having to shout over the sound of the rain. I followed her kinda nervous as we went over to the tall car and she tapped on the driver's window, It vrred as the window rolled down revealing her father. 

He was a wide man in a green button-down shirt, his face sharp and intense with a scowl across his face as he looked over at us his hands on the wheel in a tight grip his hands scared. 

I gulped rather afraid. 

"Hi daddy, Would it be okay if we took my friend home? so he doesn't have to walk in the rain?"

There was silence for a moment he looked at me and then back to her all while we stood getting soaked 

"Please daddy," she asks sweetly 

He gruffly nodded "Boy in the front" he demanded 

"Thank you" she smiled opening the door to climb into the back 

"thank you sir" I nodded going around and climbing into the passenger seat once we were sorted he started the car up and headed off the rain didn't easy battering the car the wipers on their fastest speed to try and keep the window clear, I did my best not to drip or get dirt on the car or make eye contact with her father 

"Name?" he asks me 

"Ohh uhh Isaac, Sir." I explained

"shhh" he warns making me gulp again "She's asleep"

I looked into the back and y/n had fallen asleep in the backseat 

"she always falls asleep in the rain, and she's not well anyway"

"Yeah, I gave her some painkillers I don't think that helped" I nodded 

"Isaac you said?"

"Yeah, everyone just calls me Newt though"

"Ahh" He nods "So you're newt."

I was stunned for a moment "You've heard about me?"

"I haven't stopped bloody hearing about you in months" 

"I uhh I didn't know that" I blushed 

"Good of you, taking care of her today and all"

"It's okay, I was more than happy too."

"Good, She's mentioned she'd like for you to come to dinner one evening, that something you agree with?"

"Yeah absolutely I'd love too. And I'd love to have her over too one evening"

"I'm not going to pry, I don't wanna know." he says "But Whatever you are... Look after her for me. She means a lot to me."

"I will do sir" I nodded "She means a lot to me too" I smiled "Did you need me to-" I began 

"I know where you live" he says, "she told me."

"Ahh alright then" I nodded and soon enough we arrived at my house "Thanks for the lift"

"Don't worry about it," he says 

"Is she still asleep? I don't wanna wake her"

"I'll be the bad guy" he chuckled "So you don't have to" he laughs "Y/n!" 

"Hummm?"

"You were asleep hun"

"I wasn't sleeping" she yawns "I was just resting my eyes" she says clearly having been asleep "Ohh is it time to go?"

"Yeah, thanks for the ride through"

"It's okay, I'll see you tomorrow?" she says moving closer to the front seats

"Of course, I'll see you tomorrow." 

"Okay, Bye" she smiled 

"Bye" I smiled back I wanted to give her one more kiss but given her dad was right there I knew that likely wasn't the best idea for my continued... being aliveness. But she smiled and gave my lips a sweet little kiss just like on the bleachers 

"Bye newt"

"Bye love" I smiled trying not to blush to hard grabbing my stuff and quickly getting out the car giving them both a wave as I headed inside away from the rain and the car drove off as I shut the door and raced past the kitchen 

"Dinner will be done in a bit Isaac" My mum shouts as I went past

"Okay call me when its done" I smiled bolting down to my basement room dumping my bag and jumping on my bed hugging my pillow tightly over my face as I screamed with joy an excitement! 

[kitekki-khaos]

GOOD MORNING LITTER HOUSE, IT'S SCHEDULE TIME!!

Par for the course this week, now that the phone wallpapers are done we'll be moving onto the next project on the to do list for this Wednesday, whatever that ends up being by then. Then Code Vein on Friday, which we'll just be continuing where we were during off-stream play. Then more Planet Crafter on Saturday!

Additionally, we have the Khaos Litter House Community set up now! I'll be double-posting schedules/art/updates there so if you want to make sure you see everything, go join it!

Schedule Monday: [Offline Work] Tuesday: [Offline Work] Wednesday on Twitch: Work/Art Stream at 9PM PST / 12AM EST Thursday: [Offline Work] Friday on Twitch: Code Vein at 9PM PST / 12AM EST Saturday on Twitch: Planet Crafter at 9PM PST / 12AM EST Sunday: [In the Void]

Links: Twitch: Kitekki YouTube: Kitekki VOD Archive: KitekkiVODs Everything: Carrd

Channel Tags: General Tag: #KittenLitter Art Tag: #Tekillust Fashion Tag: #TekiWear NSFW Tag: #NSFKitten

[happinessismusic]

Sharing also the text of the WSJ article below.

————————-

Gwen Stefani and her husband, country singer Blake Shelton, have been partners in life and work for several years, after meeting as coaches on The Voice in 2014. Now that he’s gearing up for his final season on the NBC singing-competition show, Stefani, 53, is also thinking about what’s next.

Right now, the Grammy Award-winning singer is preparing for her New Year’s Eve performances in Las Vegas; working on her makeup line, GXVE Beauty; and gardening with Mr. Shelton. “We can come together on that, because I love flowers so much and he has so much land out there,” she said of the couple’s home in Oklahoma, where they live with her children Kingston, 16; Zuma, 14; and Apollo, 8, when they aren’t in Los Angeles. “We’ll do fields of things. We’re just sitting there waiting for it to rain.”

Here, Stefani speaks to WSJ. about her favorite holiday tradition, why she’s been skipping her morning coffee and whether fans can expect a No Doubt reunion.

What time do you get up on Mondays, and what’s the first thing you do after waking up?

I usually wake up at 7 a.m., because I have the kids. They go to school, so it’s the whole, “Come on, let’s go! Let’s brush your teeth!” Nobody likes Monday morning.

Do you have a go-to breakfast?

I’ve been doing a cleanse, so I just wake up and have water and lemon, which has been horrifying. I don’t get to have my coffee until the middle of the day.

How are your routines different on days when you’re filming The Voice?

We get up, we have our [hair and makeup], which is always my favorite. When you shoot, you’re shooting like five days, and then you’re just dead at the end. It’s very emotional too, each phase of it.

Did you read the story about your fan who was pushed onto the subway tracks and survived? She said she owed her life to climbing onstage at your concerts.

It’s Maddie [Cole]. I know her and I follow her. In fact, I just saw her, right when we left The Drew Barrymore Show. She’s come to a million of my shows, she dresses like me. I don’t follow a ton of fans, but a few years ago when I was doing the Vegas show, I started following people randomly. Then you think you know them because you see them every day. She happens to be one of them.

The fact that that happened to her, I was like, “You need to move out of the city.”

What’s been the most surprising thing about launching your makeup line?

The community. Blake and I will lay in bed and watch the tutorials of people that would take a palette and see what they would create with it.

I’ve gotten to dabble in so many different things, whether it be songwriting or designing fashion with L.A.M.B. and then Harajuku. This is different because it’s starting a business—those were licenses. I’m just not a business person. I grew up barely making it through high school. Everything I’ve done has been so much luck. With this, I feel almost like I’m smart enough to be able to do this now.

Do you sing in the shower?

Not really. I try to take shorter showers these days. I’m more of a bath person.

Do you have Blake’s Sexiest Man Alive People cover framed at home?

We don’t. That’s a good idea. You know what we do have? When we built our house last year in Oklahoma, [in] one of the bathrooms going out to the pool is every single tabloid cover, made into wallpaper. You go in there and you’re like, “Oh, my God.” It’s pretty funny.

What are the odds of a No Doubt reunion?

What are the odds of anything? I was just on The Drew Barrymore Show. She was one of my favorite celebrities when I was a little girl, and now I was just on the show with her. Anything can happen. I have no idea what’s going to happen with No Doubt. We haven’t really talked about doing anything, but it feels like everyone is, right? All the ’90s people—Blink-182 did an eight-month tour that sold out in like five minutes.

Do you and your family have any favorite holiday traditions?

Blake likes to make new traditions every year. We do this thing called a timpano dome, which is an Italian dome, it’s kind of like a lasagna within a pizza. We’ve been doing that ever since I met him. It was in a famous movie [Big Night]. You can put anything in it.

[gaymasonjar]

Will You Meet Me In The Middle?

Preview of Chapter 7: Sanctuary

 It was late in the morning when they crossed the border to their home state. Bags packed into the back of the truck and a small cooler up front with snacks for the road. It had taken them two days between stopping at gas stations and switching up who drove. Monday morning light was shining on them as they crossed through New Mexico. They were less than an hour out from the city limits of Roswell.

 The radio was blasting music that Alex was humming along to. His eyes were focused on the passing landscape, the wind blowing his hair around since the windows were rolled down. Michael had his left hand wrapped around Alex’s thigh as he drove.

 Alex’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, noticing the new notification. It was an email from the photographer. He opened it excitedly. There were nearly 100 good photos that were edited. They looked      amazing    , perfect even.

 “Oh, my god.”

 Michael glanced at him, “What’s up?”

 “I got the photos back from Dawn- they’re amazing Michael.”

 He scooted over on the bench seat to get closer to his husband. Michael glanced down at the phone periodically as Alex swiped through the pictures. He tightened his grip on Alex’s leg; neither noticing the soft glow from his hand.

 “Incredible…who knew we both cleaned up so well?”

 Alex laughed lightly, “I’m printing these out to put up around the house.”

 “All of them? Might as well turn them into a collage and past it like wallpaper.”

 “Some of them I’ll print for hanging, the rest is going in our first album.”

 Michael raised his eyebrows, “Alex Guerin, are you telling me that we’re starting our first photo album?”

 “I think so.”

 “God, I love you so much.”

 “I can tell”, Alex pressed his hand over the spot on his chest where Michael had left the first handprint. “I can      feel     it. It’s intense.”

 “Cosmic”, Michael corrected cheekily.

 “Cosmic”, Alex agreed before resting his head on Michael’s shoulder. “We should stop at the Wild Pony before we go to the house, and get some lunch.”

 “Sounds like a pretty good idea to me.”

 Alex looked down at his phone, flipping through the pictures again and again. The smile never left his face. He never thought it possible to be so in love and so happy. After choosing his favorite picture- the one of him and Michael laughing as they sat on the back of the car and the cathedral was behind them- he set it as his new lock screen.

 “I think my new IDs should be arriving in the mail soon”, Alex stated as he adjusted the radio volume. “I left the paperwork with Maria before we left so hopefully she remembered to mail it off for me.”

 “Eager to drop the Manes name?”

 “You know it. It’s the last thing my father gave me and I’m ready to part with it.”

 Michael squeezed his thigh, “Now Kyle can just look at us collectively when he’s mad and call us both Guerin.”

 A smirk crossed his face as he imagined it. “‘Guerin! You guys need to wait a minute to actually think this through!’”

 He laughed at his husband’s impression of the doctor. “Exactly.”

 “Husband privileges.”

 “Oh is that what we’re calling it?”

 “Well, it’s certainly not a disadvantage.”

 Michael chuckled.

 The ‘Welcome to Roswell’ sign had come and gone. The Wild Pony was up ahead. Michael parked the truck in the busy parking lot. After placing his cowboy hat securely on his head, he led Alex by the hand into the establishment. Most of the tables were crowded with the lunch rush traffic.

 Maria Deluca was working behind the bar. Hoop earrings, pink tank top, curls, and all. She was pouring beers for her customers, not paying attention to her newest ones. Michael and Alex grabbed the two stools at the end of the bar and waited patiently. Maria swept down toward them with menus in hand. She placed them down in front of them before she even lifted her gaze.

 “Welcome in, what can I start you wi-” Maria’s eyes widened in surprise before she squealed. She ran around the bar to hug both of them at once. “You’re back!”

 “Honeymoons don’t last forever, unfortunately”, Michael joked.

 “Tell me EVERYTHING”, Maria paused. “Okay, maybe not everything but I want details! How was it? Where did you go?”

 “San Diego”, Alex supplied. “Beautiful beaches. It was so relaxing.”

 Maria rounded back behind the bar as she wiggled her eyebrows, “I’m sure not THAT relaxing.”

 “I’m not giving you details on our sexcapades.”

 Michael snorted and rubbed a hand down his face.

 Maria fake pouted before she leaned forward. “I saw the video, very cute.”

 “We also took pictures while we were out there.”

 “I HAVE to see those.”

 “After we get a drink”, Michael interrupted. “Long drive.”

 “Oh, of course, one second.”

 Maria went to fill two glasses of beer for her friends, knowing what they regularly drank while in her establishment. Alex pulled the pictures up on his phone while she was busy with that. Once the beers were set down, she leaned across the bar eagerly. Her jaw dropped as she scrolled through the pictures.

 “You guys are sooooo hot- I love these!”

 “We had a really good photographer”, Alex supplied.

 “Wait- oh my god, those are the sweatshirts that Isobel made you while Alex was in the hospital. How cute!”

 Michael sipped his beer, “Honestly as dorky as they are, they’re very comfortable. And I like that everyone can just read it and know. No questions. This man belongs to me.”

 Alex grabbed his free hand and kissed the back of it. “We belong to each other.”

 “Ugh, stop. You guys are adorable”, Maria stated as she waved her hand at her face.

 Michael chuckled at her antics, “So did we miss anything while we were gone for nearly three weeks?”

 “Well. Max and Dallas are still gone. No word about that. Isobel and Kyle finally stopped dancing around each other. Oh, and Liz has kinda just thrown herself back into her work.”

 Alex frowned, “Really?”

 Maria nodded as she fidgeted with her necklace pendant, “Yea. She’s still trying to get her brain back to the speed it was before the whole alien mist fiasco. And I don’t think she wants to process that her fiance is on the other side of the universe. Bit much for her.”

 “I know how hard that can feel”, the brunette glanced at his husband. “It was bad enough being trapped in another dimension.”

 “They’ll come back”, Michael said. “The control panel still functions, it just needs fuel. I’m sure it’s easier to get it on Oasis than it is on Earth.”

 Alex hummed in agreement as he pulled out a pill bottle from his jacket. He poured a few into his hand before taking them. Maria glanced at him as he did. Alex was still prescribed to take Prussian Blue to fight off any remaining radiation left from his time spent in the other dimension. He was due for another checkup with Valenti now that they were back in New Mexico.

 “So, how have you been feeling?”

 “Honestly, really good”, Alex promised as he sipped his drink. “Haven’t noticed any side effects.”

 “Good- Kyle will be happy to hear that, he’s been worried about you.”

 “I would’ve let him know if anything was wrong.”

 “You know how he is.” Maria flipped her curls back over her shoulder, “He carries more stress than anyone should.”

 “If he knows what’s good for him, he should think about working for Deep Sky”, Michael interrupted.

 “He’s a doctor Michael, he wants to help people”, Maria scolded.

 “Yea but he’s also the only alien doctor we’ve got. Deep Sky can provide equipment and materials that he doesn’t need to steal from the hospital.”

 “I can talk to him about it. I know his uncle wouldn’t be against it”, Alex agreed. “I have to see him this week anyway.”

 “Deep Sky creeps me out”, Maria muttered.

 “Why?”

 “It’s a secret organization. Can you really trust that it’s completely good?”

 “No”, Alex tapped his glass with his finger. “But you can’t really trust anything- military, government, local or federal. The world isn’t as black and white as people wish it was.”

 Michael snorted. “That’s an understatement.”

 “I just worry too, 'cause ya know, I’m like that”, Maria stated. “Anyway! Lunch is on me, what are we thinking, boys?”

Read more on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45325099/chapters/114787342

[zenkodanchi]

Contract

on saturday night i went to tokyo by night bus to see kirito live, and on monday morning i came back by night bus too, took a shower, and went with my husband to sign the contact for the new place.

it was quite easy and the staff were nice. we paid our deposit.

so i guess it's really happening!

my husband is the person with the contract for our current apartment, so he contacted them to inform them of us moving out. we both have had horrible experiences with this company, so i am worried sick about dealing with them about anything, but it seems like my husband will be the one to deal with the room check this time around, and i am so grateful for that.

if it all goes to plan, we will get the keys next month and move out of this room a week later, the room check happening a few days after that. i hope i have enough time. once we get the keys, we have to protect the walls (wallpaper sheets) and the tatami (rug) before moving, and after moving i have to clean the now furnitureless room for inspection. i almost dont see the point because the room has been so damaged in our 5 years of living here, and so much sucked from the getgo... whatever i guess ill do what i can and not worry too much because theyre going to fuck me over with fees no matter what i do.

so we need wallpaper sheets, rugs, a new washing machine (ours won't fit in the new apartment), futons.. things for giru to scratch.. and later, air conditioners ☹

it will be super costly..

but the only way out is through..

i will ask around about futons, air conditioners and other appliances, i really hope we don't have to buy everything new, i really need help. i am still worried about if our neighbors in the building will be good people.. i wish id had more time to spy a little more, lol...

two weeks from now i will go back to tokyo for my last concert before moving, im 99% sure i am cancelling my christmas concert plans, and i am trying to stay calm.

oh yeah, and i tried for the second time to buy a nicer case for my hanko and it was too small yet again when does the pain end

[johnnytoons]

Happy “Monday Morning Monster Commute” my friends! “Sticky Ricky” is driving to his dentist this morning after unsuccessfully attempting to re-glue a loose crown using wallpaper paste! Lol! Wishing everyone a MONSTROUSLY GOOD MONDAY! 🚗✍🏻📒

[mysticdreamcafe]

Hell on wheels

So, I'm not even sure right now what the last post, I did, said. I, with a lot of help from my daughter, got my room cleaned, wallpaper scraped off, spackling spread, sanding done, trims taped, walls primed, and painted. The metal adjustable bed frame was assembled and mattress in a box was left to rise and it only took approx. two weeks. That includes the moving out and shifting everything all over the damn house and room.

My furniture is damn heavy so a lot stayed put and was simply tarped over to protect from paint. It's almost put back together completely, but honestly I ran out of steam. My body forced me to stop by shutting down pretty much. Brain fogged, limbs heavy, walking was wobbly at best, I hurt more all over than when I was hit by a car and tossed off my bike to skid down the pavement on my head at age 12. They pulled rocks from my left side, mostly my leg, and scrubbed them out of my head at the ER...no anesthetic or pain killers of any sort. I didn't feel a thing till the next day when I, remember age when we all seemed to be made of rubber?, could barely move to pee when I woke.

We went shopping on Monday and I couldn't walk through the store to get groceries so I used an electric cart. Managed to get inside the house, seemed like the steps to enter from drive to living room never ended, and after resting I made it to my room.

I got up once and went for water only to slowly fall on my ass on my footboard that is in the kitchen waiting to go to basement with headboard it's leaning against. My daughter watched in amazement before helping me stand up to stagger back to bed. Tuesday, yesterday, I didn't leave my bed unless I absolutely had too.

Today I feel a bit better and more stabilized when moving about. This is good considering my mom fell in the living room this morning and scrapped her elbow. She's fine, but sore. I've bandaged her up and will wait till her afternoon nap is over before treating her wound again.

That's my update for the busy, stamina building, part of life since my birthday. I'm adding another post to delve into the unhealthy and weird part after I post this.

MV

[donutwares]

Wrapping up writing for the year….

Possibly my last short story of 2024 is developing under my fingers circa midnight, Monday. I wrote 2 1/2 tales so far, in 14 hours. Feeling a little burnt out. 3k+ words per day is a bit of a stretch for middle-aged me.

Plus the topic is odd. Musta been playing without a full deck when I outlined. I took a sedative, not trusting I’d come up with a sixth brilliancy to end the year with. Not after meds anyhow.

My old, used iPhone’s battery needs charging every morning usually from 30% up to 80%. Less stress on the battery the better. On my 3GS, I used to disable 3G and charged once every 2 days. Got the classic water drops wallpaper which looks good: gray-white within the white bezel.

I mainly write on a used ThinkPad x250 sourced cheap from Digital Mall. Luxurious: screen is sharp and colors natural, easy on the eyes. Keyboard pleasant to the touch. A luxury laptop of 9 years past. It feels rock solid with Rocky Linux / KDE plasma.

May turn in at 1am+. Feeling a little weary of all the world-building. There will be a few hours to write early in the morning after my workout. Don’t feel like running much. May run in the evening instead.

[keefwho]

July 01 - 2024 Monday

10:50pm

4.5/10

This morning I tried rubbing some of the coating off on the inside of my new goblet before letting it soak in some more vinegar for the rest of the day. Instead of cleaning up this morning, I started contacting people that wanted commissions so I would have something to work on today. I forgot to do this days ago when I should have. After my shower I made tuna and pasta shells for breakfast. I was very sleepy this morning and almost considering going back to bed but I had too much to do.

During stream I warmed up with some furry poses and then started sketching people's comms. A lot of today was spent in DMs or paypal or organizing other things rather than actual drawing. I did finish 2 YCHs that I would have preferred to do last month but the people were slow to communicate with me.

After stream I did some more commission stuff and then took a good chunk of time to pleasure myself like none other before lunch. Im still sore because of it. Lunch was broccoli, meatballs, rice, gravy, and a cup of peaches.

In the afternoon I did a couple more sketches and did just a little bit of personal art. I couldn't do the request today since I forgot to pick one this morning and the guy I picked late wasn't around.

Right after work I had therapy which was a good session. I used OBS to capture my VRchat camera so I could webcam him as my avatar, he liked that. He helped me narrow down on this idea that I've done all I can in certain fields and I should be focusing on myself and addressing the insecurities I've known about but haven't cracked down on.

Right after that I called DS and played Ancient Dungeon VR while she worked on her fursuit. We also put on some of Chris Chan's most recent Minecraft stream which I thought was actually sort of chill and pleasant to watch, but also sad and pitiful. She left to go focus and I kept watching Chris while I ate my dinner. My chicken and fries came out extra good today and I took my time nibbling them. I perused wallpaper engine for awhile looking for new desktop backgrounds. I might go the Steven Universe route because some of them go pretty hard. I also converted DS's emote she wanted into a sticker form.

I was late tonight to do dishes and the rest of my usual routine. In bed DS and I did our puzzles but she fell asleep halfway through. I couldn't figure out the connections and the strands was hard.