#grANDMA IS NOT GETTING HIT TODAY NOT ON MY WATCH NO NO NO

[whoiwanttoday]

I hope everyone had a Merry Wednesday. I just got home a little bit ago after a very long drive due to what I guess is dreaded post Wednesday traffic. I know for many parts of the world today is Boxing Day so I wish those of you who celebrate a good boxing day. I usually try to impart some basic advice here but the truth is you guys do this every year, why should I need to tell you not to stand flat footed and always keep your hands up. If you don't know now it's too late. If you're struggling just try to get a match up against your grandma, she can't possibly hit that hard and statistically she's most likely to have voted for Brexit or Rob Ford or whatever so on some level she has it coming. It's a weird tradition but I get it, if there was a separate Christmas for servants because servants aren't allowed to celebrate Christmas the same day as rich people I'd also be filled with a desire to punch someone in the face. My country just left but I guess we all deal with that bullshit in our own way. All of that said, here is some Victoria Justice who has, as far as I know, no actual association with boxing day other than one of the first things I ever saw of her was promo pictures of her ready to box because Young Victoria Justice was something Nickelodeon was trying very, very hard to make happen so she was appearing on some other show to fight someone. I think. It's been a long time and I was never the target audience, just in the early days of tumblr plenty of the sort of target audience (sort of in the sense that they were younger but not entirely in that they were queer girls who were still working on finding their queerness) really wanted me to watch Victorious and post people from it. Which I did on all counts. The show was not for me because I was too old (though I was shocked at just how many sex jokes there were for a show about high schoolers) but I will admit many of the stars were attractive. Anyway, that was a lifetime ago and all that but here is some Victoria Justice for you because all December she has shown up wearing nice stuff and I have been ignoring her and today I saw her in a Christmasy black thing and I felt bad that I ignored her in a lead up to Christmas. Bear with me, this is because my family's dog is hurt pretty badly and she is an all black mutt except for a white triangle on her chest and a little white near her paws and she looked so sad all weekend and I felt so bad every time I walked out of the room because she couldn't follow and wanted to and watching her try to get up and then give up and look very sad made me rush back again and again so she wouldn't feel ignored just cause I got some water. Anyway, this is maybe not the most complimentary thing I have ever posted but I think that very nice black and white outfit might be triggering a Pavlovian response where I feel bad like I am ignoring Victoria Justice. Which is how this is about boxing day, because that's a very condescending and paternalistic sentiment, just like the Brits and Boxing Day. I did it. Happy Boxing Day. Today I want to fuck Victoria Justice.

[melancholynobleman]

Juste heard the sound of her voice before he saw her, his eyes widening. That distinctive, beautiful voice he hadn't heard since he was a child. Memories that he had almost forgotten flooded him. Flashes of his grandmother's smile, the Belmont villa he grew up in, and his grandfather's downcast countenance.

She was about midway through her song when he saw her. She hadn't aged a day. Her hair was still a red chestnut -- not a lick of silver or white in those soft locks; the skin of her face was still smooth -- not a single wrinkle of old age weighing her down. Dark eyes radiant in a familiar joy he used to delight in as a brat.

His beautiful grandmother.

Juste had to avoid her gaze. He mentally tried to steel himself to face a literal ghost of his past. Juste grumbled just loud enough for the man behind the counter to hear. "Give me your lunch meals with ale for two. I'll be sitting at my usual spot."

Louis grunted a little before he went to the back to tell the cook about the added orders.

When the song ended, Juste inhaled deeply and turned back to the crowd. He saw his grandmother attempt to take her departure from the crowd.

And he saw the man try to force her into a dance.

If he had been in his younger years, Juste would have bolted from his seat to defend his grandmother's honor. He would have cursed the men who dared to put their hands on his grandmother. After all, he knew that is what his grandfather would have done. No, Grandfather Simon would have started a bar fight. Juste wouldn't go that far if it could have been avoidable.

But, instead, his current body stood as still as a statue, too heavy to move -- too fatigued to care -- even after the other two men had grabbed his grandmother by the arms and held her in place while the sniveling little son of a bitch tried to regain his footing.

Juste saw the aggression in the young man's eyes and it seemed that only then did Juste's body finally caught up with his sense of obligation. Although he was a tad slower than he wished, he still managed to push himself off of his comfortable spot at the bar and toward the group.

Just as the hand raised against the woman came rushing down, Juste's own snagged it right out of the air. There was a moment of silence as those nearby processed what had happened.

"Who would raise their hand against a lady?" Juste's voice was stern and deep -- a warning he had used countless times on vampires and misbehaving youngins. His grey eyes tightened, his back was straight, and his shoulders were rigid. Juste didn't offer Yvis a chance to say his piece before he turned his attention to the other two men. "And what graceless bastards would hold a woman up like that? Unhand her, or you'll get the worse end of whatever-the-fuck I'll use to beat some honor into you."

His intimidation seemed to have worked for the other two as they had quickly released their hold on the lady. In this distance, Juste saw the better details of his grandmother's face. And he felt his fierce expression slack into something close to adoring disbelief.

She was still as beautiful as he remembered.

More people gathered around Sabriel. Many of them joined in with Jon’s fiddling by clapping or even drumming their hands against table tops. Some who heard her songs from previous nights even whispered along, providing a chorus at times. Others who came as couples took to dancing.

“Tell me that the night is long. Tell me that the moon is glowing. Fill my glass, I'll sing a song and we'll start the music flowing.”

It was easy for Sabriel to relax and lose herself. Her mind drifting back to days long passed. Of the nights she attended village festivals with Simon before their marriage, where she danced under starlight and beside bonfires, singing to him and the villagers who accepted her after years of her avoiding people. Of the nights her family would hold celebrations of their own, where her children and grandchildren would beg her for song after song. Sometimes they would join her, like Juste when he would duet with her.

“Don't go out into the cold. Where the wind and rain are blowing. For the fire is flaming gold and in here, the music's flowing.”

Sabriel caught a glimpse of a white-haired man near the bar. She couldn’t see him very well while dancers moved back and forth, often blocking direct sight of him. So, when she brought her song to an end, she attempted to pardon herself.

“Allow me a break.” Sabriel smiled at her audience. “It has been a while since I’ve sung this long for good company.”

There were a few noises of disappointment, but Jon effortlessly began another melody and grabbed their attentions. Sabriel weaved her way through the crowd. A drink of water or ale wouldn’t hurt, either, while she confirmed if the old man was the one she had been waiting for.

Suddenly, someone claimed her arm and dragged her into a clumsy dance step. Sabriel barely recovered and glared up at the youth from earlier. She thought he left by now, given he seemed absent from the crowd.

“Enough singing.” He sneered. “Dance with me.”

 “No.” She could smell the alcohol on his breath.

She stomped on his foot when he refused to let go, causing him to shove her backwards. Sabriel stumbled but didn’t fall, as his friends had been close enough to grab either of her arms.

“Oui, you alright, Yves?” One inquired.

“Not good, missy. He doesn’t like to be hurt.” The other said.

They were drunk, too, but their hold was strong. Sabriel glanced towards the crowd, noting how many of them hadn’t noticed anything yet, before focusing on Yves. Once the pain seemed to fade enough for him to stop hopping around, he looked at her with rage in his eyes.

“How dare you.” Yves hissed. He approached her, his hand rising to strike. “No commoner gets away with rejecting a noble!”

She braced herself.

[raeathnos]

.

[running-with-kn1ves]

Drunken Stupor

A/N: this is based off of that drunken yan gangster idea that I couldn't get out of my head. I might rewrite it or do it differently but this is 4 u my 1 gangster lovin' anon for now!

OG Yandere Gangster Drabble (nsft) w/ da Yan Gangster Ramble

TW: kidnapping, drunken yandere, noncon kissing (no nsft), threats, toxic behavior, 

Puzzles, accompanied by whatever news channel you could get through. Paint-by-number pictures, and shitty DVD’s from another time. Horribly thin sheets and an aching back--- you were completely, utterly, and seemingly irrevocably, isolated. The tight handcuffs around your feet only allowed you to hop around the house, barely making it to the front door before you tripped over the rug and nosedived into the cold, black floor. 

How long has it been? When was the last time you felt the spring wind on your face? You weren’t even allowed to open the windows, out of your captors fear of you screaming for help, even with him right next to you. He gave you countless things to keep yourself entertained, whether they be knitting grandma-like sweaters or taking up a different artistic hobby, anything that could keep you in one spot for long without the need to move or the option to hurt yourself. 

You were tempted to scream, to throw your half-finished puzzle at the wall and destroy the nice room set up for you that once belonged to the lone bachelor-- who, was much later than usual tonight. Your throat was too sore to keep up with the screaming however, and you pushed it to the back of your mind to try again tomorrow. If he came home all of a sudden and found you screaming at the ripe hour of 11 PM, he might do more than just threaten with one of his switchblades. 

You hated being around the bastard, feeling so terrified and weak like maybe today would finally be your last-- but at this point, you were going insane being by yourself for so long. Even a nice screaming match with him until your voice finally left you would more desirable than watching another 80s thriller that would haunt your dreams, alone. For someone who wasn’t home very often, he certainly had an extensive collection of old gangster movies, romcoms too even. But you couldn’t put Sixteen Candles on again without wanting to rip your eyes out-- not even one of his five million copies of The Godfather. Who needs that many copies of the same movie?

Your exhausted, beaten-down brain jolted at the sound of someone jerking at the door handle. The door practically thumped with the lock against the wall, dust raining as it was violently ripped back and forth. But then came the familiar jangle of an overloaded key ring, one you had heard most nights for what you can only assume has been the past month. 

Finally, your spiked anxiety crashed when you saw those familiar, much-too-shiny-for-a-gangster-to-be-wearing black leather shoes thump inside. You peaked your head out from your sitting position near the opened bedroom door, trying to get a glimpse without getting up and alerting him of your presence. It was inevitable for him to come to you, his kidnapee, but you tried to postpone the smothering for as long as possible. Maybe now was the time to chuck that puzzle. 

“You reallyyy gotta hold *hic* on mee…”

Mismatched footsteps trudged, stopping first to hit the corner of what you could only assume was the livingroom loveseat.

“Move outa ma way, couch! ..Even though you… treeat me *hic* badlyy..”

You heard the raking of fingernails on the couch cushions, the clink of a bottle rolling on the ground back and forth. You didn’t dare look back through the door crack. Maybe you should shut it? Lord knows what that would cause him to do, though. 

“You still gotts’a hold on me…” 

The sing-songy voice came closer, belonging to the madman you dreaded the return of. Within the crack of the door you saw a dark silhouette, the TV casting a face-shadowing glow that made you just an inch more terrified. 

“Hey, baby…” He hiccuped. 

“Well that’s new,” You started, looking away from him back to your puzzle. “When did I become your ‘baby’?” 

He moaned thoughtfully, thinking about your rhetorical question. “After you kidnapped me, I suppose?”

Maybe it was wrong to poke the beast, especially because he smelled like dirty whiskey and had three buttons too loose on his dress shirt, showing a deep scar betwixt his faint chest hair. A vulnerable image he’d never let you witness soberly. 

“Hrmmm….” He pushed his entire weight on the door, letting it creak open as he looked at you with a smile. 

“I dunno…maybe.” He laughed a little, giving a small snort like a schoolboy hearing his first nasty joke. 

You rolled your eyes. Damn, as if you weren’t on edge before, now you were going to have to deal with the equivalent of a murderous toddler who’s been threatening to hurt you ever since you were first brought here. Drunken fools were best left at the bar. 

But your icy demeanor didn’t sway his unsettingly good mood, the gangster opening the door all the way to flop onto your (unwillingly) shared bed. He dug his face into the sheets that smelled like you, looking at the back of your head that was pressed against the edge of the mattress.

“Was thinkin’ bout’cha…” He murmurs, tugging at a strand of your hair from behind. “Couldn’t stop talkin’ to the boys, ‘bout how pretty you are..” 

The short yanks at your hair to get your attention were becoming annoying, though you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of glaring face-to-face. 

“Told em’ how nice you look when yer sleepin’, when ya brush ya teeth, sayin’ that they’re not allowed to have ya....”

You hummed in response, trying to bend away to get closer to your puzzle. But you could sense the bubbling in your stomach, could feel that something was coming. Whether it’d be a bunch of slobbered kisses or your early demise, you couldn’t tell. 

“Oh really?” You asked, knowing he’d been adamant on not saying a word or letting make a peep about your existence in his gang-funded condo. 

“Yah, I did. Don’t believe me? Said i’d cut their fingers off, like boss does when some’n fucks up. I’d slam into em, make em watch while I...” 

He went quiet, and you thanked whatever made him. Whatever he said, you didn’t want to know; you’d already had enough of an unwilling look into his violent thoughts. 

“Well, doesn’t matter now, right... ‘cause now I gots’ya here. Mmph,” You hear him kick his shoes off, his face coming up to bury in your hair. “Smellin’ so good, lookin’ so nice fr’ me… wanting you so bad.” 

The sound of him inhaling you, his nose pressed to your neck as he shimmies his head deeper against you like a cat is uncomfortably warm. You feel two hands creep up, looking for your shoulders to push you back and make you more accessible. 

The gangster wasn’t normally so affectionate, so quiet and simple when he spoke. You were waiting for it to be replaced by his normal, angrily resentful behavior, the type that’d pull you by the hair to kiss you, that’d rant about the idiots he’d had to deal with for the day at you. But maybe, just maybe, you were in the clear for now?

“You’re acting weird,” You try to jerk away. “I’m not in the mood to entertain you, okay? Just, let me do my puzzle in peace. Go take a shower or something.”

He’s quick to respond, wrapping veiny arms around your shoulders and dangerously close to your neck. 

“Nuh huh, not unless yer comin’ with me, wanna show how much I loove you,” His head pops up closer to yours, the stressed crinkles under his eyes making him look older. “Cuz’ baby, you reallyy gotta hold on mee..” 

“Stop stop stop.” You couldn’t take the second-hand embarassment of listening him to try to sing again, horribly off key and far too confident in each drawn out word. “What do I have to do to stop you from singing again?”

“I can’t hold it in though. Love’s too strong for you, love.” His disheveled hair, once slicked back in an oily black, now strewn about across his forehead as it nearly covers his eyebrows. He presses his forehead towards you. ��Lemme kiss. Told the boys you give the best kisses, lemme prove it..”

“Prove what-- they’re not even here!” You try to go under his arm-barricade, only to be stopped as he practically puts his full weight forward, dragging him with you each time you move. 

“Lovin’ you for so long, jusst a kiss, just one kith..” He reaches for your cheek with his lips, ignoring how you whip your head around in retaliation.

“No, no! You stink like a bar and ciggarettes, get off me.”

He grunts in frustration, biting down on his lower lip as his dark, full eyebrows furrow together. 

“Let me kiss or i’ll.. I’ll gut you like a fish, my lovely..” 

You stopped at that, looking out of the corner of your eye to his pink-tinted cheeks and strong neck that sweated at the sight of you. 

He puts a ringed knuckle to your cheek, huffing as his eyes go half-lidded. His suit was all wrinkled from rolling around on the bed, dirty with the day’s work and bar-stench as he forced you back against the end of the mattress. 

“C’mon, don’t make me say stuff like that just for a kiss…” He whined, scooting closer. “Maybe I’ll start singing again, y’knoww, if y’don’t come close.” 

“Please just… don’t hurt me.” You mumbled, trying to avoid that blank, dark look he often held that came crawling back a moment ago. You didn’t want that sober side right now; this was somehow easier to handle, even if it meant losing your dignity. 

“Don’t wanna, never will,” He hums, staring unbothered at your lips, as if he wasn’t holding you tight enough to suffocate. “S’just kiss me, need it bad..” 

You looked around, as if there was anyone else looking, trying to avoid the task that made you shiver inside. 

But you didn’t get a chance to reject the drunken gangster again, his wet lips coming against the side of your face. He poked the tip of his tongue out, flicking against your lip before going tongue-first into your surprised mouth. 

Anytime he had tried to kiss you, to do anything overtly intimate, the most he released was the silent huffs of a man too wrapped up in himself to let you hear anything of pleasure. But now, you witnessed the lewd shlops of his lips against yours, the neediness of the back of his throat, groaning to be deeper inside of you. 

One of his heavy hands cradled the back of your head, his stupor not caring (or rather, not noticing) how little you moved, how you seemed to be backing into his large palm that massaged your hair. 

“Loved’ya forever, so happy you were so stupid…” He mumbles between licks to the corner of your lip, diving back into the sticky warmth of you. “What kinda… mph, idiot, doesn’t..hugh, report to the police..?” 

With his arm once wrapped around you, the gangster takes your limp wrist to his collar, bringing it to hold his loose tie. He makes you drag him closer, guiding your slow and frowning lips in his one-sided makeout session. 

“Not’ma fault, making your life so much better now.. N’now, you’re mine.” He grins, a stupid little grin from the alcohol and delusion swarming his head as he consumes you, fingers coming to fiddle with your cotton T-shirt as he draws lines down your chest. “My sweet sunshine, all mine, forever n’ ever.” 

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddie-spooktober.

Gravity Always Wins

Day #3 Prompt: Apples | Word Count: 6464 | Rating: M | POV: Eddie | CW: Language, Sex | Tags: Modern AU, Meet Cute, Apple Picking, Bakery Owner Steve, Sports Guy Steve, Smitten Eddie Munson, Platonic Stobin, Gareth, Good Uncle Wayne Munson

Also right here on ao3.

"Oh shit, oh fuck," Eddie says as the apple tumbles out of his grasp. He looks down in horror as it falls, like a slow-motion car wreck happening right before his very eyes, as it lands directly on the guy's head that was picking below him.

To add insult to injury, it hits with a very audible thunk. 

Shit, he shouldn't even be allowed on a ladder. That's like the first rule of the universe or some shit. Who signed off on this? Honestly.

"I'm so sorry, are you okay?" Eddie asks, coming down the ladder, watching as the guy, the very pretty guy, rubs at the top of his head, only slightly worried he's about to get his ass kicked in a goddamn apple orchard.

But the guy is laughing.

He's laughing, and gorgeous, and Eddie can't help but smile. 

"Goddamn you, Newton!" Eddie shouts, dramatically shaking his fist in the air, eyes trained on the sky, as if he had nothing at all to do with this, and that gravity alone was solely to blame.

"Gravity always wins," the guy says, then adds, "I'm good, honest, you just startled me. I never thought concussion number four would be at the hands of an apple. But here we are."

Eddie feels his face fall.

"Oh, oh no, I'm kidding. I was just teasing you. I'm fine. Look? It was just a little apple," he says, leaning over to pick up the offending piece of fruit. 

Eddie eyes it in his palm, "That's definitely gonna have a bruise."

"Like my head," he teases, and Eddie reaches out and pops him on the shoulder, making him pull back, giggling. His sweater is soft under Eddie's hand, and Eddie wants to reach out and stroke it again, but stops himself. Content to just stare a second.

He's truly something to look at. Goddamn.

Eddie just smiles at him, and when he straightens back up, he hands the apple back.

It is a little apple, and Eddie probably shouldn't have picked it in the first place, but he doesn't know what the fuck he's doing. He saw an apple, and picked it.

Looking at the bushel this guy has selected, though, gives him pause. They are evenly sized, and brightly colored. No blemishes at all. Perfect apples, for the perfect guy.

Eddie's are a little misshapen and odd. The freaks, if you will, but he thinks that's pretty damn fitting.

"Guess you'll have to make applesauce–" the guy starts, and then stops, clearly searching for Eddie's name.

"Eddie," Eddie offers.

"Eddie," he repeats. "I'm Steve."

"Well, Steve, I would make some applesauce if I knew how," Eddie laughs.

"You could always come by my bakery slash coffee shop," Steve offers, sort of shaking the basket slung over his arm, "That's why I'm picking apples today. So I can make some seasonal items with local apples. Customers eat that shit up."

Eddie thinks he's being picked up. Maybe. Or not. He's never very good at getting those signals right. Gareth says he's hopeless, and sometimes that feels more accurate than he'd like to admit.

Like, right now. Is Steve hitting on him, or trying to drum up business? 

Eddie decides he honestly doesn't exactly care which it is, "Sure, I'd love to be the guinea pig for your apple pie."

"Well," Steve says, lowering his voice in a way that makes Eddie feel funny in a good way, "I never said pie."

"Oh, well, in that case…" Eddie teases, trailing off, acting as if he's going to walk away.

But, Steve just laughs at him, and digs in his wallet, producing a little business card: Harrington's. Since 1955.

"My, you look awfully good for your age," Eddie says.

Steve laughs, "My grandma and grandpa ran it before me. And they didn't think they'd have anyone to take over the family business when they retired. And then I turned up, with nothing better to do."

Eddie nods. He's definitely going to stop by Steve's family business, not even for the not-pie, but just so he can see more of this guy, "Well, in that case. When should I show up?"

"Tomorrow, anytime after three?" Steve suggests, and Eddie is nodding along. Tomorrow after three sounds perfect to him. 

Eddie pulls up in the alley behind the back of the bakery, as directed, and can't really believe he's here. Like, what does he know about baking? He can't even bake a box of brownies without messing them up somehow.

But, Steve is gorgeous, and this isn't an invite he's about to turn down. He's a fool, but he's no dummy. Eddie pushes on the back door, and it's heavy, but slowly glides open. 

"Knock, knock," Eddie says, and then hears a commotion. Lots of yelling. Like a fight is happening. 

His fight or flight starts to kick in, and flight will always win for him, but…he pauses.

He knows that kind of yelling from Uncle Wayne, and as far as a fight goes, it's surely a one-sided one, because Steve's staring up at the mounted television over on the wall, screaming at the refs of a football game, as he stands inside an industrial kitchen, at a stainless steel prep table, peeling apples.

Oh, no. No, no, no.

Steve the Baker is also Steve the Sports Guy? That wasn't advertised on the label at all. 

Eddie's been hoodwinked. The wool pulled straight over his eyes. Was bamboozled by a pretty face in a warm-looking sweater, right there in a goddamn apple orchard.

He's starting to plan his escape, when Steve turns to look at him, and smiles, waving his paring knife in the air, "Hey! You made it!"

"Hey," Eddie says back, shucking off his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack by the door. Steve sounds excited to see him, and maybe the game is almost over. He could deal with it for a few minutes. Steve was very pretty in that sweater.

He squints at the screen, and the score is 0-0 and it's still the first quarter. He doesn't know a lot about sports, but he grew up with Wayne. He at least understands that this means the damn thing has just started. 

"You care if I leave the game on?" Steve asks, flashing him those warm eyes, and Eddie finds himself nodding along with that idea, like a damn idiot. No, he doesn't want to watch sports, but…that face.

That face will make him break his most solemn of vows: no sports. He just won't tell Wayne or Gareth. He'll gloss right over that part, and nobody will ever have to know that he spent the whole afternoon with football blaring in the background of his maybe date.

Because, as good looking as this guy is, and as much as Eddie would like to eat this guy, and his baked goods, alive, he's sure this isn't going to go any further than this afternoon. It can't. What would they talk about? Baking and football? Eddie doesn't know anything about either of those topics. But he can surely bumble through one afternoon. That'll be fine. Eddie can do anything for one afternoon. All the odd jobs he's ever held has proven that.

Hell, if he plays his cards right, maybe he can get one night out of it, too.

But long-term? He can already see the writing on the wall, and it bums him out, just a little bit. He hadn't been this excited about a guy in a while.

Steve hands Eddie a peeler, and Eddie goes to work, peeling the whole bushel of apples that Steve has washed and laid out on a towel. He does know how to work a peeler, at least. That was his job for potatoes at Wayne's, when he was far too little to do anything else.

"So, tell me about yourself. Do you always assault men with apples?" Steve asks, and Eddie looks over at him and smiles.

"Only the cute ones," Eddie flirts, and loves the blush that stains Steve's cheeks as he looks back down at the apples he's evenly slicing. 

"No offense, but you don't seem like the apple picking type," Steve says, and Eddie laughs. He's not wrong. "What brought you out there, especially all by yourself?"

"It's part of my contract. Free apples from the orchard and free pumpkins from the patch," Eddie says, then realizes that doesn't explain anything at all, adding, "I work nights at the haunted hayride. As a scare actor," Eddie says, then holds his hands up like a zombie.

Steve's eyes are big, and it's awfully cute as he laughs.

"So, free apples. I mean, how many apples or pumpkins can one man eat? But free is free."

"Maybe I'll teach you how to bake something using them," Steve suggests and Eddie nods. He'd like that. A lot, he thinks. Even if that's all he gets out of the day.

"Deal. So, what's on the menu for today?"

Steve grins, "Apple fritters. Cupcakes. There's this apple maple upside down cake I want to try. A cobbler. Someone suggested an apple pie."

"They sound smart," Eddie banters, and Steve just keeps smiling.

"Have you ever made a dessert pizza?" Eddie asks, meeting Steve's eyes.

"Like from Pizza Hut?" Steve questions, and Eddie nods.

"No, but we totally can. I've never thought to try to make it myself."

Eddie smiles at the thought. He imagines homemade would be even better than what used to be on the buffet at Pizza Hut when he was younger.

Steve moves from slicing apples to dicing them very small and fine. In perfect little squares that are very impressive to Eddie's eyes. He can barely cut anything evenly, so that seems like quite the feat.

Eddie watches as Steve goes between watching the knife in his hands so he doesn't cut his fingers off, and the ballgame. 

"You should come to the hayride," Eddie blurts out.

Steve smiles, "I don't really do scary things, or anything that risks a head injury these days."

It's just a trailer pulled around the grounds, nobody touches anybody. Couldn't if they wanted to, but if he doesn't like scary, he doesn't like scary. Then he remembers something Steve had joked about in the orchard after Eddie had beaned him with that apple.

"Have you really already had three concussions?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah," Steve answers, "at least three that I know about. But not from falling apples. I'm fine. I promise."

"How'd you get them?" Eddie asks, because he isn't sure how one gets that many concussions unless they've been abused, and his stomach drops. Maybe he shouldn't have asked that. Maybe it's none of his goddamn business. Maybe-

"I got one from a dickhead in high school that blindsided me during a stupid fight, and then the other two from football plays in college, a couple weeks apart. One was a dirty, on purpose, helmet-to-helmet late hit, the last one was during a quarterback sneak that went wrong."

Eddie has no idea what that means.

"What's that mean?" Eddie asks.

Steve looks at him, "Not a football guy?"

Eddie shakes his head adamantly, "Not an any sports guy. Sorry."

"That's okay," Steve says, "A quarterback sneak is when you only need to move a yard or two down the field to, say, get across the goal line to score, or get a first down, and the linemen in front of you, the big guys, push forward and the quarterback tries to carry it over himself. No hand-off. No throw."

"And you were the quarterback?"

"I was. I was a little too exposed, and one of the defensive players came in and hit me helmet to helmet in the dogpile. Snapped my neck backwards."

"I'm sorry," Eddie says.

"It happens. Most of the time you go into concussion protocol, and clear it. Mine wasn't even caught immediately after it happened. Not even by me. I hopped right back up, and it wasn't until I'd thrown a few uncharacteristic picks later, that they decided something must be wrong with me and pulled me out of the game and straight into the tent. Once the migraines started a few days later, and never really stopped after all the other symptoms went away, that was the end of the line. No more football. No NFL draft."

Eddie swallows, that's fucking rough.

"They forced you to stop?" Eddie asks. 

"Yes," Steve says, then must change his mind, "No. Not really. The specialists suggested it. I don't think they could have forced me to comply. Hell, they'll play you into the ground. But it would have been a risk to draft a known concussion magnet. So, it was a choice I had to make for myself, and I chose to stop, to preserve what I had left. Stop it at the occasional migraine. Of course Robin, my best friend, would have flayed me alive if I'd done anything else. She was the first to call it, and she was right."

"But you were good enough to go pro? If you hadn't taken those hits?" Eddie asks, quietly.

"Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows?" Steve answers with a shrug, like he doesn't really care one way or the other, but he must care. He'd have to. Eddie knows he'd care if he couldn't play the guitar anymore, and he's never been anywhere near going professional.

"But you still watch it? Football? Even after losing the chance to play?" Eddie asks.

Steve smiles, "Hell yeah. I still love the game. Even if I can't play."

Then he points at the screen, "I'm friends with #52. In the white. We went to college together. It all worked out better for him than it did me, but I couldn't be prouder of him. A little jealous, sure. But really proud, too."

"Do you ever get to go to games in person, or is that impossible with the bakery?"

"I try to hit one a season, as that's about all the favors I can call in with my friends. Coming in at three a.m. to get shit ready is a hard sell, let me tell you," Steve laughs, "That and they don't know what they're doing. So, it's just easier to just stay here. Watch on television. Scream at the refs from home instead of the stands."

"I know all about the screaming. I live with my uncle, and he has a sport for every season, I swear it. Getting him to move to Indy with me was no small feat, let me tell you," Eddie laughs, "But he needed to retire from the plant. He still works, because he's a stubborn old man, but now he's at a local hardware store instead, bossing clueless jackasses around. His words, not mine."

Steve laughs, "He sounds great."

"He is, and of course you'd think so, you sports guys always stick together."

Steve laughs, nodding like it's true, and then they go back to work. Baking, watching the game, and cheering on Steve's friend to a close game win.

And that evening, Eddie goes home with a still warm pie, and a phone number for Steve burning a hole in his pocket.

They spend the next two weeks texting back and forth, with a few short phone calls sprinkled in for good measure, but it hasn't gone beyond that. Eddie isn't sure if Steve's just busy or uninterested in setting up a second date. He wishes he'd just tell him. They could just be friends, but Eddie would rather know that now, instead of later once he's already gotten swept away by the idea of dating him, for real.

Eddie looks at his phone as Chrissy does his makeup, "Eyes up, Munson."

Steve hasn't responded, but he's probably asleep. Eddie puts his phone on the table, "Yes, ma'am."

She laughs, and gets him ready for another night of a constant loop of visitors to the maze. They've done this for a few years now, and they're all good at it, and it's not bad seasonal work. It helps pay the bills for the band to keep trying, stay plugging along. 

Eddie knows they aren't gonna make it big, not now, that window has closed. But they still make music together, good music he thinks, so taking on odd jobs to still do that has been worth it. 

Maybe after thirty he'll have to settle down, but for right now? He's just having fun.

"Tell me about the boy," she sing-songs, then changes her mind, "No, keep your mouth shut until I'm done with your face."

Eddie laughs, and keeps his mouth shut, as directed.

"But tell me later, though."

And he nods. He definitely will. Gareth's sick of hearing about Steve, so if he has a fresh pair of ears to listen to him yap, he's definitely all-in on that.

It's actually gotten chilly tonight, but when the second-to-last trailer full of guests pulls around the corner at quarter to two, Eddie sees Steve sitting next to a woman that has to be Robin. She just looks exactly like what Eddie imagined every time Steve's told a story about her. And she looks very grumpy about being awake in the middle of the night.

Eddie is stoked, and rushes around from Gareth to Jeff to Goodie to Chrissy, pointing out Steve, and then hurrying back to his spot for the last trailer. They don't really care all that much. He's sure they're happy for him, but they definitely just want to finish doing their jobs and get the fuck out of here for the night.

Steve's lingering by the employees only sign when Eddie exits backstage.

"You came," Eddie says, makeup hastily scrubbed off his face. It's a big no-no to interact with the guests in character, even if it's the guy you've been playing phone tag with for the last two weeks. He wasn't sure Steve would stay, but he did, and Eddie's fucking thrilled to see him.

"This is Robin," Steve says, slinging his arm over her shoulders.

Eddie starts to say hi, when the door bangs closed behind him, and he turns to see Chrissy on her way out.

"Night, Eddie," Chrissy says, as she passes by them, her dirty dead cheerleader costume slung over her arm.

"Was she the cheerleader?" Robin hisses, and Eddie nods. 

"Hey, Chris, wait!" he hollers, and drags her closer, making introductions. He's no dummy, he knows what that question entailed, and he has no problem playing a hint of matchmaker. And if they're talking, that'll give Eddie some time alone with Steve. 

The fact that Steve showed up at all, late at night, was a sacrifice of sleeping time. Eddie knows it, and appreciates it. So, he won't keep him. He'll send him back home to bed, or straight to the bakery, wherever he needs to be next, so he can get ready to make the donuts as Steve likes to say. 

"I'm glad you came," Eddie says, running his hand up Steve's arm. 

"Of course, I couldn't resist the opportunity to see you as the evil undead."

Eddie grins at him. He really likes this guy. 

"The bats were really believable."

Eddie grins, and tells him all about how he helped design them with his friends. They built the pulley system in Gareth's garage on the cheap, but it works, and well.

Steve nods along, then pulls Eddie into the darkness, where the floodlights don't reach. Eddie goes, willingly, sliding his hands along Steve's waist. 

And then they're kissing, and Eddie couldn't be more fucking thrilled. 

Steve is interested. And Eddie is definitely interested.

Steve's tongue slides along his, and Eddie squeezes him tighter, pulling Steve into his body, wanting to be closer. As close as they can get here in this dark alleyway. 

When Steve pulls back, he presses his forehead to Eddie's, and Eddie tries to look into his eyes this close-up.

"I've wanted to do that since the orchard," Steve says.

"Fuck, me too," Eddie admits. He'd like to do more, too, but Robin is yelling that her alarm is going off, meaning Steve's got to get to the bakery. 

Steve's day is just beginning, and Eddie's is just ending. Their schedules couldn't be more out of sync if they tried.

But Eddie reluctantly lets him go, they say their goodbyes, but Eddie is already scheming how he'll get to see Steve next.

The next morning, Eddie forces himself out of bed at a normal hour so he can go to the bakery. Gareth follows him to the van, tagging along without an invite, but Eddie doesn't care, as long as he can see Steve, it's all good.

Steve's behind the counter, and he grins when he sees Eddie come through the front door, "Hey!"

"Hey, yourself," Eddie says back, looking at the handwritten menu board. "Suggestions are welcome."

And Steve just laughs, and then produces a piece of cobbler that looks sticky and delicious.

"Sold," Eddie replies, taking the plate from him, and then nodding towards Gareth, "and whatever he wants. This is Gareth."

Gareth is looking in the glass case, paying no attention to either of them.

"So, this is the famous Eddie?" a girl who is not Robin asks, sidling up beside Steve at the counter.

"That's Eddie," Steve says with a smile, then introduces her, "This is Di."

She makes a shooing motion with her hands, "Go. Sit with him for a minute. I'll watch the counter," Di offers, pushing Steve from behind the register, and Eddie's grateful.

"Thanks, Di," Steve answers, pulling his apron off over his head, showing a strip of bare skin as it goes. His stomach is hairy and Eddie gulps, probably audibly, like he's in a cartoon.

He wants, he wants, he wants.

Steve picks up his coffee mug, and grabs a piece of cobbler for himself.

"Hey kid, head's up," Eddie says, and Gareth looks just in time to catch Eddie's wallet as Eddie tosses it to him. "Pick something and pay the nice lady."

"Yeah, yeah," Gareth says, and goes right back to looking at all his options.

Steve leads Eddie over to a table in the corner, and they sit and get to talk face-to-face, for the first time since their first afternoon here. Yeah, sure, he saw Steve last night, that was just a brief hi and bye.

It's nice to sit across from him again, and even nicer when Steve slides his hand forward, lacing their fingers together. Miraculously Gareth doesn't come over and cockblock him like the little shit that he is, instead lingering by the counter. 

Eddie looks back at Steve.

"You know, I don't really date," Steve admits, "I mean, the bakery hours keep my nightlife non-existent. And I've gotten used to that. But I really like you."

Eddie feels his cheeks heat up. Is he blushing? That's absurd, but he thinks it's probably true. He likes Steve. A lot. And he can deal with weird hours for Steve, he's damn certain. Dates at three in the afternoon? Awesome. He'll have just rolled out of bed a couple hours before that half the time anyway.

"But, I'd like to try. If you want to," Steve says, and Eddie nods.

"Yeah, I want to. I really like you, too."

Then the phone rings, and it's something Steve has to take, and Eddie glances at him one more time before he holds open the door with the jangly bell for Gareth to exit.

Steve's still looking at him, watching him go, so Eddie winks, and it makes Steve smile.

There's no plan, but Eddie knows he's gonna date the shit out of Steve Harrington.

Turns out, the whole dating with opposite schedules idea was way easier said than done. Eddie works every weekend night, all fall long, because that's the busy time. He works some weeknights, too, but those are easier to trade around for with his friends. So, weekends are definitely out, and he needs date ideas that don't mess with Steve's sleep schedule.

He's reading the paper that Wayne left on the coffee table as he sits on the couch and eats his cereal, when he sees that the local high school football team is playing next week, but that's on Friday. Duh. Friday Night Lights. Even he understands enough about football to get that that's a reference to the night they play. He may have needed three senior years to graduate, but he's not that dense. He keeps reading, and sees that the JV football team plays on Tuesday and the junior high team on Thursday. That's an idea. He doesn't really know what that means, but he knows who would.

"Hey, Wayne!" he yells, and when Wayne rounds the corner Eddie asks, "Tell me. Which is a better game to attend: JV or Junior High?"

"Game of what? Tiddlywinks? Dragons and Dragons?" Wayne prods, teasing him. Eddie damn well knows Wayne remembers what DnD is. He bought enough of those books for him in high school, it has to be seared into his old man brain. 

But Wayne glances over at him from his recliner he's just sat down in, waiting for Eddie to spill it.

Eddie lowers his voice and mumbles, "Football."

"What'd you say, I didn't hear you?" Wayne drawls, but he's grinning like he heard exactly what Eddie said.

"Shut up, old man," Eddie teases, "I'm sort of dating a guy. He likes football. Used to play. I thought it might be nice to take him to a game, and I obviously can't do a Friday night game this year because of work. But I thought Steve might like to go to one of these other games?"

"Steve, huh? This Steve have a last name?" Wayne asks, and Eddie rolls his eyes. Wayne doesn't need to try to vet this guy like he did every single person Eddie dated in high school. He's a grown man now, almost thirty. He picks better these days.

At least, he hopes he does.

"Harrington," Eddie answers, "and you're ignoring the question. JV? Junior High?" Then points his finger at the newspaper, crinkling it, "Or the local flag football team plays on Sundays. Help a guy out. Jeez."

But Wayne is just staring at him, mouth slightly open. Eddie's never seen him this shocked in his life. And Eddie did some wild shit in high school that Wayne swears made him go gray and bald.

"Yes, yes, I'm willing to go to a game. We're all shocked. Make fun. I have it coming. But close your mouth before you catch flies."

"No. Just. Steve Harrington, Ed? You, my nephew, who hates all sports sight unseen, is dating Steve Harrington? Heisman Trophy winner as a sophomore, that Steve Harrington?"

Eddie just shrugs, "I don't know about all that. He runs a bakery."

Wayne lets out a breathy laugh, "Right. He runs a bakery."

"He does," Eddie confirms. 

Wayne picks up his phone, puts on his reading glasses so Eddie knows he's serious, and finally turns the screen towards Eddie, "This your boy?"

Eddie smiles. He's younger, but yeah, that's definitely Steve, "Yep, that's Steve."

"I'll be damned, I knew he was from Indiana, but I didn't expect him to come back to our neck of the woods to run a bakery."

"You know my boyfriend, Wayne?" Eddie teases, lilting his voice, and batting his eyes.

"Anybody that followed football in the last decade knows of your boyfriend, Ed. He was gonna be a star, a franchise quarterback, for any team lucky enough to draft him."

Steve had said he wasn't sure if he was good enough to go pro, and now Eddie is doubting the validity of that, "He said he wasn't sure if he was good enough to make it pro."

Wayne laughs, "That boy would've been a first round pick. He's just being humble."

"Oh," Eddie says, "that's pretty cool. It's too bad he got hurt, then."

"It is," Wayne agrees.

"If he was as good as you say, why didn't he just go pro right out of high school?" Eddie asks, thinking this over. He's really not sure why you'd take the risk playing college football before you could make the big bucks.

"That's not how the NFL draft works. You have to be three years past graduation from high school before you're eligible. And what else are you gonna do for those three years, if not play ball at college?"

"Oh," Eddie says, then adds, "Good thing I wasn't good at football. I'd have been an old man trying to enter the draft."

Wayne laughs. It wasn't so funny when Eddie was bearing down on twenty-one and still trying to get that damn diploma, but they can laugh about it now. Water under the bridge.

Eddie then asks, "So, about the game…"

Wayne steered him towards the JV game, but told him over and over that all of the options were beneath the level of football that Steve Harrington was used to watching, or playing. 

Eddie decides to take him anyway.

Eddie buys the four dollar tickets at the gate from a mom sitting at a card table with a metal cash box in front of her, a button with her son's face pinned to her coat. He gives her a ten, and tells her to keep the change when she holds it in her hand, unmoving.

But that's just because she's staring at Steve, kind of starry-eyed. He is attractive, that's undeniable, and Eddie puffs up a little that he's the one getting to date him tonight.

Then Steve is accosted for pictures no less than seven times on the way to the stands, and Eddie wonders if he's made a mistake here. He didn't think it through, didn't understand that Steve would be known here.

Eddie escapes to the concessions stand, and when he comes back, arms full, there's a group of kids surrounding Steve. And Steve's engaged, and giving them what they want, clearly, but this isn't a good date. This seems more like he's trotted Steve out for the wolves. 

Everyone else finally clears out as kickoff happens, leaving them alone, and Eddie takes his seat next to Steve on the bleachers.

"Uh, did I fuck this up?" Eddie whispers, handing Steve a tray of nachos.

"No. No way, this is great," Steve reassures, a big smile on his face.

"I truly didn't understand that you'd be recognized here," Eddie says, "I don't know anything about sports. I'm in over my head. I just thought, well, maybe you'd like to see a game. Even if it's just kids."

"This is great, Eddie. You did great, honest," Steve says. "I'm not recognized outside of football. Don't worry. This isn't an everyday occurrence. This is a very isolated incident, because of where we are. Some of these kids probably watched me play. I'm not that old."

Eddie laughs, some of the tension draining out of his shoulders. He definitely didn't want to make Steve uncomfortable.

And if he is, he never lets on. Instead, Steve explains the game to him as it goes, and it's a slow enough pace that Eddie thinks maybe he's understanding it. The football Steve had been watching on TV in the bakery had moved so fucking fast he had no hopes of following, not even when there was an instant replay to slow it down.

Steve's never seen these kids play before, but he can read them all like open books, calling plays, calling probable results before they happen. And he's right. Nine times out of ten, he's right. 

He should probably coach football. But maybe that's too painful? Eddie's definitely not gonna bring it up. 

They leave at halftime, and Eddie's sure it's only partly because Steve has to be up in less than eight hours. 

He still thinks it went well, because Steve leans over in the van and kisses him.

Eddie suddenly feels like he can't feel his face, even as he kisses back, hand cupping Steve's face, just wanting to touch him.

Eddie likes him so goddamn much, and as Steve pulls away, Eddie feels like they are no longer struggling to make a connection. They've done it. They're getting there.

Over the next few weeks, they have half-dozen more half-dates. Eddie catches the first quarter of a college football game, Steve's alma mater, on the television at the bakery with him before having to head to the maze for the night.

A few days later they grab fast food in Steve's car, and Eddie's definitely trying hard not to make a mess. Steve's car is nice, and Eddie's only used to his shitty van.

They carve out an hour to just lay in Steve's bed, kissing and touching, and eventually fucking before they need to part ways again.

Eddie wonders if they'll ever get to actually sleep in the same bed with shifts this ass-backwards from each other.

Spooky season comes and goes, and Eddie's back looking for some kind of other temporary work. He's complaining to Steve that nobody is hiring, even when they say they're hiring.

"Come work at the bakery," Steve says, "then maybe we'll finally get to see each other for longer than an hour at a time."

Eddie starts to say no, starts to deflect in a knee-jerk way, but then decides he'd really like to do that, "Really?"

"Really," Steve confirms. 

"I don't know how to bake, you know that," Eddie teases.

"You're not coming there to bake. Please, no. But you could run the register. Right?"

And Eddie thinks he'd like to do just that, so he nods and nods.

So, they work together, and sometimes go home with each other after. Both of them dozing on the couch while Wayne watches football, or cuddling up at Steve's place while Robin whines about it being her turn to cook dinner.

And Eddie ends up loving Robin, because working with her at the bakery might be almost as fun as it is working with Steve. She's not there all the time, but when she is, they run the front together, while Steve and Di have the back, and it's the least work feeling work he's ever done.

She's funny, and snarky, and loves Steve so much Eddie can feel it rolling off of her in waves. She kept him from getting hurt further. She made sure he'd be okay, even if Eddie's sure Steve felt anything but at the time.

He talks up Steve's baked goods, upselling easily, turning a half-dozen box into a full dozen more often than not. Eventually he sneaks around while Steve isn't looking, and hangs his own picture on the wall, labeled underneath as Employee of the Month, as a joke.

When Steve finally notices it, it stays. Eddie's part of the place, now. And he couldn't be happier about that. Harrington's is fun, and relaxed, and he's honestly never gotten this invested in a job before. He wants it to succeed, because he wants Steve, and the rest of his friends, to succeed. And yeah, he's sure Steve has a lot to do with that, but still, the fact that he's enjoying it is a bonus he hadn't foreseen coming.

He helps clean up every afternoon, so they can get out of there faster, together. Today, with the cold winter air blowing, snow flurries are blustering around, stinging his face as they hit. So, he hugs Steve from behind as he locks the back door in the alley where they park, hiding his face in Steve's coat.

"Hello to you, too," Steve flirts, and Eddie smirks as soon as he realizes this is gonna be a short afternoon, because when they get home, they are definitely going straight to bed. 

And they do just that. It's cold outside, but the warm winter sunlight is pouring through the windows, made brighter by the snow on the ground, and Eddie's in love.

Steve looks fucking gorgeous, the light hitting him that way, letting that glow he always has about him shine through from the inside out.

Eddie runs his fingers over his body, his athletic frame that sees no playing time, anymore. He runs to keep in shape, but Eddie thinks he'd run too if he had that kind of albatross slung around his neck. If he'd lost the thing he loved most, the thing he'd hung his whole hat on.

If he'd lost possible rings and millions of dollars.

Steve's almost twenty-nine. He'd be hitting his peak, his best years of play.

But Steve's happy. He's not a bitter guy. He loves his bakery, and he loves his friends and-

"What's," Steve breathes out, easing up on his pace, "what's with the face?"

"I love you," Eddie blurts out.

Steve smiles, so fucking wide it feels like it cracks open Eddie's chest, "Well, don't look so sad about it then."

And Eddie laughs, reaching up to grasp Steve's hips, helping him regain his momentum. The spiral he was headed down on Steve's behalf, broken.

Steve doesn't want Eddie dwelling on the past. Especially if he doesn't do it himself. There are no pity parties happening in Steve Harrington's orbit.

"I love you, too. Now fuck me like you're not gonna cry about it."

Eddie huffs out a laugh, so fucking charmed and delighted by this man that he loves. He'll fuck him all right. 

"Hold on then, big boy," Eddie teases, and thrusts upwards, carrying the weight of Steve with him off the bed.

Maybe instead, they'll just hit their primes together.

Eddie starts to become a morning person against his will as the months wear on, and Steve will have to pay for that, eventually. But not today.

No, today he's more than fine with going to bed at eight-thirty, dicking down his boyfriend, then afterwards both of them will be sound asleep by nine. 

Gareth is hanging around the bakery more and more, and before Eddie realizes it, Steve and Di have taught Gareth how to bake. And he's somehow good at it. Gareth eventually weasels his way into a full-time job, too. Which gets Eddie's wheels turning. Maybe by next fall, Eddie can surprise Steve with tickets to an NFL game to watch his friend play, because together they are slowly building up enough of a staff to run the store in their absence.

It doesn't have to just be Steve anymore. It can be all of them.

Next fall, Eddie thinks.

And he smiles.

He's planning ahead, now. Planning for a future, one that he intends to share with Steve.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddie-spooktober to follow along with the fun! 🍎

[o-sachi]

Kick It! - Heacanons (Var. WinBre)

ᯓ how would the winbre characters react to an s/o that does taekwondo? ᯓ characters; sakura haruka, suo hayato, kaji ren, umemiya hajime, hiragi toma, togame jo ᯓ tags; sfw, afab reader, no y/n

Sakura Haruka

"You're cool and all... but let me protect you still..."

He's both impressed and worried about the fact that you can fight.

Of course, he's impressed because you can do the things he does—all that flying and kicking. And even more so since you're his girlfriend.

But he's also worried since you might not need him to protect you anymore. It's so silly but the man just wants to be your knight in shining armor :(

"That kick was pretty good huh?" / "Yeah! It felt good. What's with the long face though?" / "Eh? What do you mean?"

After sparring with him a bit, he comes to terms with it in the end. He can't help but feel a sense of pride watching you move so skillfully.

Although, if you allow yourself to be "protected" every once in a while, he'll appreciate that immensely.

I should add that he's probably not as impressed about the fact that your flexible since he is like that too. To him, it's something normal. He's more fixated on the fact that you can fight.

Suo Hayato

"You got quite a kick there hm? Would be pretty dangerous if I got hit."

Suo practices a martial art himself (Aikido, I believe), so he's quite fond of that similarity between the two of you. He likes that you both have the discipline and determination for it.

He's pretty flexible himself and he achieved that through daily stretches. He'll definitely invite you to do it with him and you can talk about random things as you do.

I'm 100% sure Suo has a big ass house and inside that mansion is a dojo. He'd ask you to come over so that you two can train together and maybe even spar.

"Think you can win against me today, sweet pea?"

He finds it so funny when you try and kick him and all he does is easily evade all of it. Suo would be so cocky—hands behind his back with a silly smile on his face.

But he'll console you and reassure you after that you're good enough as it is. He's just one step ahead of you but that's alright. He insists that he has to be so that he can protect you when the time comes.

Kaji Ren

"You kick like my grandma."

HE IS THE DEFINITION OF TOUGH LOVE. Sure, he's aware you can fight, kick, or whatever. But it's gonna take more than that if you want to hear him compliment you.

He'll make annoying remarks (affectionately, of course). Without knowing it, you're actually pushing yourself to improve even more because you want to earn his approval.

Don't get him wrong though. He is CRAZY proud of you. You don't know it yet, but he brags about you to Kusumi and Enomoto. (Yes, he has threatened them before because they joked about telling you how Kaji would simp).

He's not a dick about it all the time though. He knows when it's too much and when you really can't handle it anymore—he'll comfort you.

"Shhh... you're not bad, okay? Hell, the things I'd give to have someone like you on my team." / "You mean that?" / "Of course I do, angel. Don't be sad, please?"

In sparring, you catch him off-guard a lot because of your flexibility. It allows you to pull off elaborate moves that are quite hard to read.

Umemiya Hajime

"THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND. GO, GIRL. KICK SOME ASS"

NUMBER ONE HYPE MAN! His heart would be swelling with pride every time you showed everyone your skills. He'd hate it if someone suddenly put the spotlight on him instead of his girl.

If you compete officially, you probably have told Ume once or twice to calm down while he's watching from the sidelines. Let's just say he gets a bit too heated...

"Can you believe it? Unanimous decision? Pfft, what a joke." / "Babe, it's fine... I won..." / "So? Doesn't mean they can rob you of your honor like that."

His eyes turn into hearts whenever you ask him to teach you how to fight or ask him for tips. But you quickly realize he might not be the best person to ask because he can't take it seriously (he's still gushing about how you asked him so he's a bit soft with you).

Will mope around when you ask the other guys to ACTUALLY fight with you seriously.

You relent and him if he wants to help you cooldown instead. His smile returns almost instantly. He'll even offer you a footrub after. Such a good boyfriend :(

HIragi Toma

"Hm? Oh... yeah, I guess that was good."

He's like the middle ground between Kaji and Ume. No overflowing praise or tough love. Nothing. Hiragi's so quiet about it.

While he's not good with words, you can tell that he's aware of your skills through subtle signs. You can see how he carefully observes how you move and the little nods of approval he gives you when you do it perfectly.

It has become your goal to become good enough that Hiragi will have no choice but to compliment you. He doesn't know it nor was that his plan.

He will actually refuse to spar with you. While he knows you can hold your ground, he doesn't think he could forgive himself if he hits you too hard by accident. But he'll encourage the other guys to help you get better.

But when you finally get him to agree and kick his ass (affectionately), he feels an odd wave of attraction for you all over again.

"Heh... you're better than I thought."

Togame Jo

"Damn... you got a pretty nasty kick. I think it's better than mine."

You can never ask this man for constructive criticism because he will butter you up no matter what. He'll even tell you that you're way better than him when even a baby can tell the difference in your skill.

"Nah, you gotta believe me when I tell you that kick was amazing." / "I landed on my but, Jo. It was a flop." / "I think you were just too strong." / "Sigh."

When sparring with him, you can tell he's going too easy on you. Sometimes he won't even try. He'll let you win all the time. Unless... you ask him nicely to actually fight like he usually does.

Of course, he whoops your ass with ease. But he'll put you in a bear hug after and tell you how well you did against him. Togame insists that you were one of the toughest opponents he has faced (yeah, right).

I think he's the type of guy to make stupid and suggestive jokes about how flexible you are...

On the flipside, he'd love to be more flexible himself (for fighting, obviously). So he asks you to teach him the kind of stretches/training that you do in order to achieve your level of flexibility. Plus, he just loves learning from you.

o-sachi © 2024 pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

[all-alone-he-turns-to-stone]

Call Me biles

Stiles Stilinski Masterlist Summary: Being Coach’s daughter isn’t that bad. Of course, you're in the lacrosse team, which makes him proud and happy. But falling for the worst player (after Greenberg), going out with him in secret, and lying to your dad… That's bad. But the worst is… Ever since you started dating him, you've been calling him Biles and no one told you you were wrong. Word Count: 2080 Pairing: Stiles x F!Reader A/n: I was feeling the absolute worse today so decided to write the absolute cutest story I could to cheer me up. Teen Wolf, it's been a while! Hope y'all enjoy! Sorry for any mistake! (I wrote this with 3 hours of sleep)

“Faster! My grandma could beat you with her eyes closed, and she’s dead! You suck Greenberg! That’s good sweetie, keep going!”

Obviously, Coach was after everyone. It was understandable, Beacon Hills hadn't won a game in forever, it was almost depressing to be on this team. Other schools made fun of you when they crushed you during games. 

And Coach wasn’t only screaming at the student in his team, but at everyone in the class currently running on the field.

But obviously, when Coach spoke to you, he didn't treat you the same way as the others. His tone changed, a proud smile appeared on his face, and he began to encourage you instead of denigrating you.

Obviously. Since Coach was your dad.

You finished your lap, out of breath, and leaned over to put your hands on your knees. In the distance, you could hear your dad's voice return to its usual tone as other insults replaced the encouragement he only offered to you. 

“Is that everyone?” You looked up to see the last person finally finishing their lap and collapsing in front of your dad, face red and covered in sweat. A small laugh escaped your vigilance with a smile that you quickly hid when you saw you had Coach's attention on you. “Pathetic,” he finished as he headed towards the school, announcing that class was over.

You watched him out of the corner of your eye, and, once certain that he was out of range, headed towards the poor wretch collapsed on the ground.

“Biles!” you laughed, helping him up. “You really need to improve your cardio, or we’ll get crushed at the next game!”

Once on his feet, you met his gaze and it was your turn to lose your breath as you inevitably lost yourself in the beauty of his amber eyes.

“You’re dad will crush me before,” he grimaced as he started walking towards the school alongside you. It was the first class of the day, and you knew the rest of the day would be long, especially with Lacrosse practice scheduled for the evening. “You’re lucky he’s not always on your back, you know?”

You shook your head, understanding what he meant. “He wants what’s best for me. I asked to join the team, he didn’t force me nor did he agreed I join because I was his daughter. He made me go through the tryouts like everyone else and I got no special treatments or favoritism. He just… Made a promise to my mom before she passed away, to never be the cause of my tears. He’s a great dad. Well, except when it comes to dating boys…”

Biles shook his head and sighed as he opened the door to let you enter the school first. “What about the other guys? Aren’t they mad about Coach’s daughter being on the team?”

At his question, a grimace of suffering stretched your face and you stopped walking. Biles mimicked your movement and turned to you, one eyebrow raised.

“Let’s say he made it veeeeerryyyy clear to the ones that complained. And the few ones that started rumors…” You shivered at the thought. “You don’t wanna know.”

“I don’t wanna know,” an expression of terror was now on his face. “Alright, I’ll hit the shower, see you at lunch,” Biles quickly scanned his surroundings to make sure the coast was clear and leaned down to place his lips on yours. They were soft and warm and even though it wasn't the first kiss you had shared, the butterflies still woke up in your stomach.

“See you later,” you watched him leave, a stupid smile plastered on your face.

Gosh, you loved that boy.

-

Later the same day, it was Lacrosse practice.

Even though you had spent time with Biles during the day, you were very excited to see him again to play the sport that bonded you two together at the beginning. And then, hiding from your father all day, always looking behind your shoulder to make sure no one was following you, spending dinner breaks in Biles' jeep to make sure no other teacher saw you together at the cafeteria…

It was grueling.

Sometimes, you wish you had the courage to just tell your dad. After all, even though he appeared rather withdrawn, he always supported you in your decisions and encouraged you to pursue your dreams. But a boy in your life?

You feared his reaction.

“Hey, Stiles!” 

The unfamiliar name, albeit with a familiar connotation, caught your attention and you turned your head towards the source. Practice had already started, but as usual, your boyfriend was on the bench while you were on the field. The person who had just spoken was also on the team, number 11 and friend of Biles, who, true to form, arrived late.

Biles jumped to his feet as if he had springs in his shoes and rushed towards Scott to whisper something frantically. You raised an eyebrow, not really understanding the reason for the secrets exchanged between the two boys, and continued playing without worrying anymore about what was happening.

-

Stiles Pov

“Hey, Stiles!”

Nervousness coursed through his veins as if he had just received a violent electric shock. The current reached his feet, and immediately he was standing up and rushing towards Scott, his stress-fueled speed almost on par with the werewolves.

“Biles. My name is Biles. Call me Biles!” Stiles quickly whispered, his hands going all over the place as if he was trying to fly away. 

Scott froze, his mouth half open, and his gaze left his friend and rested on the source of all this stress. The girl in question had stopped playing to look at them, but quickly returned to the game, shrugging one shoulder. “You know, you should tell her.”

“Are you crazy?!” Stiles' voice rose an octave, which caught Coach's attention. A quick wave of his hand to apologize, and Stiles continued the conversation in a low voice. “She’s Coach’s kid, and I love her so much, man, if she thinks my name is Biles, my name is Biles. Hell, I’m ready to change it on my birth certificate.”

Scott looked at his friend with wide eyes. “You love her that much?”

Stiles sighed, his head turning to look behind him where the girl of his dreams had just caught the ball and scored a point. Pleased with herself, her gaze immediately went to her dad who applauded her, then to him, Stiles - well, Biles, who looked at her with eyes full of affection. “You have no idea.”

--

“Stilinski! On the field! Greenberg, out of my sight!”

Hearing his name, Stiles was already standing, helmet on his head and lacrosse stick in his hands. Since he arrived, he was ready to play and radiated energy. Finally on the field, he ran towards the person he wanted to see the most and stopped next to her, smiling under his helmet. 

“Hey there.”

“Hey,” she replied, her smile just as big.

A loud whistle startled them both, but it was the calling of their names that made them break out in a cold sweat. Sweats of horror. Sweats…

Of terror.

“Stilinski! Finstock! Stop flirting and go go go!!” Coach yelled in their direction. 

Stiles shared a frightened look with his girlfriend, the fear of being found out strong in their veins. “Do you think he knows?”

“We were careful,” Y/n whispered as she ran to the other side of the field to start the practice match again. “But I can ask him after practice,” she offered, but seeing the fear in Stiles’ eyes, she felt compelled to specify “subtly, obviously.”

“Your dad scares me,” he added, getting into position.

“I know,” Y/n replied with a sigh. “I know.”

-

Your pov

The practice match was over. Although usually, playing Lacrosse managed to cure all of your daily life stresses and struggles, this time, even the sport that you knew and loved couldn’t stop the tornado of thoughts that invaded your mind.

Did your father find out about your relationship with Biles or not???

If so, you had to do everything to protect him, otherwise you were afraid for his life.

But first of all, you had to ask your father, subtly, if he had any doubts about the nature of your relationship with the number 24.

“Good job tonight Y/n! Dad’s proud of you!” 

You had just returned to the stands when Coach walked to you, a friendly pat of encouragement on the back. Usually, you would have been really delighted -your father's compliments were as precious as a treasure lost for hundreds of years- but stress prevented all good feelings from existing. For the last hour, you've been reciting what you were going to say, how to ask him, how to bring up the subject without seeming suspicious, how-

“I was thinking, hotdogs for dinner. You down?” Your father asked, cutting off all your concentration and courage to ask him. 

“Sure, uhm, dad, I uh… I wanted to-” 

“Why don’t you invite your boyfriend too?” 

You froze. Literally, your whole body turned to marble and you were stuck in the last position you had been in, mouth open, one hand outstretched towards him. Coach was putting away your equipment in your bag, completely unaware of what he just did by asking that simple question.

“Uh?”

“I think it’s time Stilinski acts like a man and steps up for his girl,” your father continued, glancing at you. Then, straightening up, he raised his voice and added: “STILINSKI! COME OVER HERE.”

Like a good soldier, Biles rushed towards Coach and you, leaving everything he was doing behind.

He was missing a shoe.

“Yes, Coach, I’m here, Stilinski, that’s me, reporting, present, right here.” With both hands on his hips, Biles looked at you, then at your father, then back at you, asking a thousand and one silent questions with his facial expressions.

“Hot dogs. You like em?” 

“Yes, sir, love them, enjoy them, delicious, delicate food, truly amazing,” Biles nodded, sweat rolling down his forehead, definitely not from the practice match that had ended 15 minutes ago already.

“Alright. You are eating dinner with us tonight. I think it’s time you stop hiding, you two, gosh,” the coach rolled his eyes and threw his arms in the air, exasperated. For your part, you were still frozen. Your father started to walk away with your sport bag under his arm but suddenly he stopped to turn towards you. “And Stiles?”

“Yes, sir, yes, that’s me, yes?” Your boyfriend responded automatically, his body straightening to form a perfectly vertical straight line.

“You should stop parking in front of my car. I have eyes. Be there for 7!”

With these words, your father disappeared into the school parking lot, where he would wait for you to go back home. But for now...

“Holy shit I’m dead, right?” 

“Wait, your name is STILES? Not Biles???” You exclaimed, turning towards him.

“Is that really what you remember from the conversation?!” 

“You’re not denying it!!”

“I’m gonna die tonight!” 

“You’re gonna be fine, Stiles!” You couldn't believe it. Not only your dad knew about your relationship, but you had completely shamed yourself by not even knowing your boyfriend's real name. “I’ve been calling you the wrong name all this time…” 

You hid your face in your hands. 

“Hey hey…” Warmth settles on your hands, and slowly, Stiles freed your face and gently lift your chin to look into your eyes. “I’m sorry for not telling you. But I kind of… liked it, you calling me Biles. It was our thing…” Stiles smiled, and damn, that smile was magical. You just couldn’t feel bad having someone so perfect near you. 

“I feel stupid,” you furrowed your brows, your expression pouty.

“If it can make you feel better,” Stiles continued, putting an arm around your shoulders to start walking towards the parking lot with you. “I’ll be dead after tonight, probably,” he added with a laugh. “And also, my real name is not Stiles.”

You stopped walking to look at him. “Really.”

“Yeah. But I’ll only tell you if I survive tonight’s dinner.”

“Alright,” you laughed as you continued walking with him, obvious relief being felt in your heart. It was so nice not to have to hide. “I think I can help with that, Biles. But…” You glanced down.

“Hm?”

“You’re missing a shoe.”

“Oh, I know.”

-

Forever taglist: @nitnat6245 @eevvvaa​​ @wickedinspirations​@fictional-affairs @awkward-and-indecisive​​ @peachyaliien @katbratsupernaturalwhore

[sophsbookstore]

Cooking Live Stream

Carlos Sainz x reader ｡･:*˚:✧｡

Masterlist can be found in navigation!

Word count: 1,123

Y/N didn't think of herself as a chef, she had grown up surrounded by a family of very good cooks, Y/N was always in the kitchen with her mom or grandma either cooking or baking something just for the fun of it. When covid hit, Y/N was bored so she set up her phone and just live streamed herself making her and Carlos dinner. Needless to say people went nuts for it.

They did enjoy Y/N’s presence, she would interact with the viewers watching her, giving cooking tips she had picked up throughout the years, sharing the recipe with the viewers, occasionally making a recipe on the spot just for fun. With all the practice she has gotten, her skills have definitely made a noticeable improvement.

Her boyfriend Carlos enjoyed her live streams more than anyone, if he wasn't away at a race watching through his phone in the paddock, he would be sat on the opposite side of their kitchen island, behind her phone just watching her in domestic bliss. Y/N loved when Carlos was there to watch her, making the occasional joke, popping into view to chat with the viewers, or just cheering on Y/N when she tried something new whether it turned out the way she wanted or not.

Tonight Y/N was making pasta, she had posted on her twitter that she was thinking about making both her pasta, and sauce from scratch. The replies were filled with encouragement, even some of the drivers responded, asking for a seat at the table or leftovers. Carlos had made it back home a few days ago, and was excited to watch his girlfriend do something that makes her so happy. 

Y/N sets her phone in the small tripod Carlos had bought her for her live streams, she loves having it, when he wasn't watching her from behind the camera, it was a reminder to her that he is always there, cheering her on. She starts the live show and waits for more people to join before starting the cooking. Carlos takes his usual place behind the camera, sitting in one of the island chairs.

Y/N shows the audience the finished pasta that she had made the previous day. She had attempted to make them on live, but they weren't turning out the way she wanted, ultimately deciding that it was better to do it off camera, giving it her full attention. Y/N started boiling the homemade pasta, talking to the viewers about how excited she was to try it.

“Carlos, come say hi, everyone is asking for you” Y/N smiles at her boyfriend. He gets out of his chair, making his way around the kitchen island before landing smack dab in the center of the camera view.

“Hola a todos.” he says, giving the camera an awkward wave. He was about to leave to go back to his seat when Y/N grabbed his arm, keeping him in the camera view. 

“And where do you think you're going?” Y/N asks the now confused Carlos.

“Back to my seat, why? Do you need any help?” Carlos asks, the man would do anything for her if she asks.

“Of course! Could you start the sauce? I already laid everything out” Y/N replied cheerfully.

Carlos gives her a kiss on the cheek, moving back around to the stove, starting to mince the ingredients that would soon be placed in the sauce. As Carlos’ back faces the phone, Y/N turns back the audience reading the comments as they come onto the screen at rapidfire pace. 

“Looks like we have a little sous chef with us today everyone” Y/N cheers.

Carlos turns around, faceing Y/N with his eyebrow raised. “Little?” Carlos moves to stand next to her, the man clearly towering over her. 

Y/N laughs at his antics, turning back to her phone “What do we think everyone? Who's taller, me or Carlos?” The chat blows up with people spamming Y/N’s name.

Carlos gets closer to the phone to see it. “What is this? Have I shrunk?” Carlos asks curiously.

“What can I say mi amor, I guess I'm just more macho than you” Y/N shrugs playfully, Carlos putting a hand on his heart pretending to be hurt. “Now go finish the sauce, you are here to work!” Y/N jokingly lectures, Carlos turning back to the sauce.

Y/N starts prepping the pasta, stirring it occasionally so it doesn't stick. As she does this, she talks to the audience narrating what she is doing step by step, even taking her phone over and showing everyone what she's doing up close.

While Y/N's doing this Carlos looks over at her every couple of seconds, the audience instantly picking up on his actions, watching as his gaze soften every time he sees her. Y/N brings the phone over to Carlos’ station, showing the audience his work, showering him with compliments at every little thing he does. 

Y/N grabs a spoon, taking some of the sauce and tasting it, nodding in satisfaction. She sets her phone back down, the pasta and sauce nearly done. “Shoutout to this dude right here for doing the hard part and making the star dish of tonight's dinner” Y/N says, giving Carlos a little hug from behind. The man turns around, Y/N face landing on his chest as he wraps his arms around her, planting a kiss on her head.

“Gracias for letting me join you tonight.” they pull away from their hug, Carlos keeping a firm yet comforting hold at her waist. 

“I really enjoyed having your company, maybe you should join me again sometime?”

“I would love to mi amor” he gives her a kiss on the lips before the timer goes off alerting them that their meal is ready to be plated. 

Y/N grabs two bowls, turning off the stove and grabbing utensils for both of them. Carlos starts setting the table as Y/N takes some pasta and sauce, placing some in each bowl. Y/N hands Carlos his bowl and a fork, the two of them taking some before cheersing the forks together and taking a bite.

“Wow! delicioso” Carlos gives Y/N a forehead kiss.

“I think this is a sign you need to become a permanent member of the cooking live streams” the pair looks over at Y/N’s phone, all the viewers screaming in agreement.

“You know? I think I just might.” Carlos nods in agreement. The pair say goodbye to the viewers, Y/N ends the live stream, the couple taking their bowls to the table, finishing another successful meal.

[doyouknowbtsswag]

Should Have Picked Up The Phone |So-Mun|

Sorry this is short

I strolled around the neighborhood shivering at the low temperature. I was originally supposed to be on a date with my boyfriend but he never showed up. Recently he's been canceling dates or leaving me hanging like a fool. All of the pity looks thrown my way by others makes it 10x worse. My mind always makes me wonder if he wants to break up and it makes my heart shatter. I can't help but think of what I did wrong if he doesn't like me anymore. He always says it's because his grandma wandered off again which is valid. I've seen her try to leave and even helped him before but that excuse is getting old. At this point, I wouldn't mind just hanging out at his place if that's the only time I could see him. I haven't seen him in days and even then it's a brief conversation. I walked down the street to my house and saw a man with a hoodie stopped at my door. I quickly hid behind the big dumpster ignoring the awful smell.

"Hello?" I heard the man say as he knocked on my door. "You dropped your ID card so I figured you would want it back."

I scrambled through my bag and looked in my wallet to see if I had actually dropped it but seeing my ID in my bag confused me. Why would he lie about that? I decided it wasn't safe for me to be around here so I quietly and quickly ran away praying I wouldn't trip over my heels. I ran for a good 10 minutes not caring about how much pain my legs and feet were in. I hunched over both of my hands on my knees and tried to catch my breath. I looked around and saw I ended up near the park.

"Mun's house isn't far from here maybe he'll be there," I said to myself my breath still shaky.

I grabbed my phone from my purse and made my way to his house. Even if he wasn't home I would be able to lend a hand to his grandparents. I pushed his contact and let the phone ring but he didn't pick up. I called him a few more times scared and upset about everything.

"Come on pick up pick up" I continued to walk but felt like someone was watching me the whole time. This made me call him more and more. I started to speed walk getting closer and closer to his house calling and calling. I hit the call button one last time before having someone grab me from behind. I dropped my phone struggling against the person who grabbed me. The call went directly to voicemail.

"Mun, shouldn't you answer your phone?" Hana said as she walked over to him. "I think you've trained enough today."

"Who was calling?" He asked stepping away from the punching bag and wiping sweat from his forehead.

"Y/n" Hana handed him his phone.

Mun groaned as he took the phone from her hand. "I forgot we had a date tonight"

"Again?" She said.

"She'll understand"

"How would she just understand?"

"I'll just say what I usually do, something came up with my grandparents"

"Shouldn't you just find time? Or take a break for a day" Hana crossed her arms.

"Evil spirits don't take breaks" He argued. "And with everything going on right now I can't afford to fall back"

"You're not the only counter, you can take a day off," Hana said. "Your not alone"

"I'm just nervous Cheong Shin will do something while I'm taking a break," Mun said as his phone vibrated with a text message.

Alternate:

"Call her back quickly," Hana said. "The nights not fully over"

"I-fine I call her back," He said as he called you back but came back with no answer. He sighed as he texted you saying how sorry he was hoping to get a response. He raised an eyebrow confused but slowly turned into worry as he called you again.

"She isn't picking up," Mun said looking at Hana.

"Try calling her again," Hana said now concerned herself.

"Pick up pick up," Mun said as he paced back and forth. "She's not acting petty right?"

"I highly doubt it"

"It picked up!"

" Y/n? What's wrong? Y/n?" He said concerned. "Are you okay?" The panic and concern in his voice was clear.

"So you do know him" The man said but it sounded like there were two people.

"Who's this?" Mun asked unsure if his ears were deceiving him or not. He was only met with a deep chuckle from the other end of the phone.

"Your worst nightmare" The man grinned. "She might have been safe if you picked up the phone"

[potchi-fics]

zaun (part three of attention)

i | ii | iii | iv | v

      rays of sunshine creep through the tiny cracks of your blinds, waking you up from your deep slumber. the moment you open your eyes, you let out a groan of annoyance. what’s worse is it hurts when you swallow, you feel a slight throbbing in your head, and you feel sluggish. you think that you might be sick. just in time, your alarm clock screams. a slam of your hand shuts it up: shut up, im already up. you force yourself out of bed and opt for a quick shower– grabbing your towel and necessities, you walk to your bathroom. thanks to your shampoo and soap, you manage to smell like lavender and vanilla; a scent youve always adored.

stripping your clothes, you step under the showerhead and turn it on– letting the cold water hit your somehow hot body. im gonna run a fever, arent i. you grumble in irritation, but you focus on the water hitting you, pondering about your interaction with sevika. now that you think about it, its been a couple of days since her last visit. a single question runs into your mind: maybe i should go to zaun again, it is my day-off. 

youve made up your mind, you’ll explore the city. 

laying out clothes on your bed, picking your choice of outfit; black cargo pants paired with black shirt, layered with a coat, and black boots– cant forget your trusty dagger. you check your watch and you figure you’d be there in a couple of minutes. with one final look at yourself in the mirror, you head out.

the bustling city fills all your senses, i probably wont get used to this. this time, you fully take in zaun– kids playing on the streets, drunkards already drinking, elders talking to each other, everyone seems lively today you thought. putting your hands in your pockets, you turn into an alleyway. markus was right, curiosity will get you killed. while walking, you see a child crying in his grandmother's arms and of course, you being a nosy woman, listened to them.

“but grandma,” he wails out, “i really love that radio. why’d they have to destroy it?”

his grandma rubs his head comfortingly, “hush now, ill buy you a new one.”

      you know that look in her eyes, that guilt and regret swimming in her eyes: she wont be able to buy one. look, you werent always a piltie, but that story can be told another time. absentmindedly, your feet bring you to them. you were only snapped back to reality when you hear her ask.

“what do you want? we dont have anything anymore.” the elder hisses out.

you raise your arms, “im not here to take anything, im here to see if i can fix your radio.”

what?

“what?”

this is what i get for being nosy, “i know a few things about ‘em.”

      but the twinkle in the boy’s eyes, his sniffles quieting down, and hugging his grandma tighter? you had to do something. 

“r-really?” he’s a timid little kid.

you slowly kneel beside them, “yeah, kid. ill try to fix it, cant promise you though.”

      you take a look around their house– its small and messy, considering theyre living in an alley, you cant judge. tools that you can use are tucked away in a box in the corner, thinking theyre good enough. seeing that youre eyeing them, the kid hurriedly brings you the box. thanking him, you carefully grab the radio; its old, and run-down, but it works. using a flathead, you disassemble it.

“its not broken, luckily.” you take a glance at the two, “the screws are loose, so you just have to tighten them again.”

      you turn it on once you assemble it back to its original form, a small smile creeps into your face as you hear static before hearing voices.

the grandma brings out her waller, “how much do i need to pa–”

“dont mind,” you stand up to interrupt her, “its my day off.”

her face shows gratitude but her eyes show seriousness, “dont give kindness here easily, kid.”

      your eyebrows furrow, confused by her comment. you could only offer them a nod before making your way deeper into the alleyway, relieved you could fix the radio. before turning, you hear the kid yell a thank you which makes you chuckle. but your victory is cut short when you hear a fight going on. your instincts turning on, you put your back against the wall and take a peek behind it.

its sevika. and shes not looking good. her arm isnt working, she’s outnumbered: she looks like she’s about to pass out. debating whether you should help, you watch for a few seconds. one man was about to punch her but you quickly jumped in to block it. her eyes met yours almost immediately, however, you ignored her and put yourself between her and them.

“you shouldnt be here, pretty little thing.” the middle guy snarled. 

you only stare at them, “i really dont give a fuck. like, at all.”

      guess that pissed him off because he quickly charges at you but you trip him and stepped aside to give him to sevika, seeing the vulnerable man heading her way, she quickly uses her right hand to punch him in the face. on the other side, you were dealing with two guys. one rushes to throw a fist but you evade by ducking and giving the other man a punch in the liver: a body shot, he crumbles down to his knees– giving you the chance to deal with the other. 

“lousy,” you comment, jabbing him and hitting his nose, “weak, unfocused, poor execution.”

      with every insult, you land hit after hit. he bares his yellow teeth at you while holding his bloody nose and mouth. you feel arms around your torso– throwing your lower body in the air and forcibly throwing yourself down, you make the clingy man stumble forward– hitting his buddy. your gaze goes back to sevika and you see her getting pinned to the wall. quickly grabbing your dagger, you make your way to them and slash the back of his knees, making him let go of her. sevika pants but lands a hit to his jaw– knocking him out cold.

you turn to look at the other two, only to see their back turned against you, already running away. cowards. hearing her groans and labored breathing, you turn around and help her up– putting her arm around your shoulder and trying to support her weight.

“i didnt need your help,” sevika grunts out.

you sneer back, “sure, sure. you look like you were winning actually.”

      she tries to escape your hold but right now, you are much stronger than her. you scold her and force her to hold onto you. 

“dont play with me right now, sevika. my head is already hurting,” you warn her.

sevika huffs out, “just this once. i have a safe house somewhere around here, its not far.”

      scared that she was gonna bleed out, you briskly walk, but still gently handling her. after a few minutes, you reach an abandoned building. she leads this time. this place is a goddamn maze, the smell of wood and cigarette brings you back to reality, the door to her safe house opening. 

you take in the sight, you snort at the messy place. she limps to sit on her couch, letting you close and lock the door. you rush to her to assess her injuries: bruises, cuts, and a wound that would probably need stitches.

“you got a kit?” you ask but youre already rummaging through her things.

she snorts, “bathroom, lower cabinet.”

      making a beeline for it, you hurriedly walk to her bathroom. seeing the kit, you let out a breath of relief and grab yourself a few ointments and a wet cloth. you go back to her and she looks like she’s really about to pass out. your voice wakes her up, making her stare at you.

“this is gonna sting,” you prepare the stitch to start.

she dismisses your comment with a wave of her bloody hand, “this is nothing.”

      only breaths and occasional groans from her fill the quiet room, giving your entire focus to finishing her stitch. snipping the thread, you move on to clean her wounds with the wet cloth you grabbed earlier– dabbing and rubbing the blood away, sevika lets the calming action take over her. too tired and worn out to complain. roughly twenty minutes pass and you finally reach her face; taking a moment to stare at her, your eyes roam from her eyebrows, down to her nose, and travel down to stare at her lips. 

“you done starin’ at me?” though her eyes are still closed, you figure she mightve felt your gaze.

warm cloth meets her skin, “wasnt staring at you, i was starin’ at your wounds, asshat.”

      she suddenly grabs you by the waist to pull you to her, your hands landing on her chest to steady yourself. 

“what are you doing.” red paints your ears.

she chuckles lowly, a sound that makes you want to rub your thighs together, “im only making it easier for you.”

“actually, this is harder for me,” you manage to blur out, “stupid.”

      you attempt to pull away but her hold only tightens around you. sevika finally opens her eyes to look at you and you realize: blood loss. 

she looks intently at you, slowly leaning in and putting her nose into your throat– inhaling your scent. you flush at this, the redness covering your entire face now. sevika drags her nose up to the side of your neck, finding your pulse; youre scared she’s gonna feel how fast its pulsing. your hand grips her bicep, feeling the muscle and how solid her body is. your eyes shut as her nose travels up your jaw, her lips just grazing your skin. 

“you shouldnt have come back here,” she whispers out.

      you didnt know it was possible to be closer to her but she grounded you on her crotch– making you straddle her. she pushed you down into her, emitting a throaty groan from her. you, on the other hand, are breathless, you cant think properly, your ears are ringing, and your hands are shaking. she kisses your jaw, resulting in you opening your eyes.

your hand that’s holding the cloth squeezes between the two of you and positions itself on her forehead to push her away. her head lolls back as she finally sleeps. Ignoring the fire in your abdomen, one thought crosses your mind: fuck, that did things to you. 

note: finally building tension

[twig-tea]

It is such a wild time to be watching QL, there is SO MUCH every day. And a lot of it is really good?!

Today I watched EIGHT different shows, and of them, I was really happy with the episode for all but one. Here are a few words about the ones I had a good time with today:

Addicted Heroin Thailand crossed the first hurdle of adaptation by including the kidnapping scene. Looks like they're continuing to stay true to the source. I appreciated that this scene in particular retained the emotional core while toning down the SA threat (though Hero's desire is still very much present). This is a solid adaptation so far!

Reverse 4 U is using the powers so well, and I am loving the sister relationship, especially how they tease one another around their powers. It's also building to the relationship turn between Four and Wa in a believable way, which I'm really enjoying.

Peaceful Property is delightful and as @lurkingshan already articulated so well, I love what is being set up re: inequality. Plus this show is just so funny! it's balancing these two threads really well and doing a good job maintaining the haunting-of-the-week energy so far.

Love is like a poison had an incredible first episode, I love the effects and cutaways in this show, and the way it is making fun of its protagonist is so much fun. Ryoma is a dork with main character syndrome and I am obsessed with him. Curious how they're going to turn around this setup into a romance!

I Saw You In My Dream was a baller episode, @my-rose-tinted-glasses wrote about how great it is to see a conversation like this between friends as well as between lovers; all of the conversations in this episode were good (between both couples, between the besties, and between the parents). I really appreciate how, as many folks have said, everyone in a relationship in this episode wants to have sex, and the barriers to having sex are real and discussed openly. Big fan of everything in this ep. We've really departed from the dreams, which I think we need to get back to, but this ep was worth the deviation.

The On1y One continues to be incredible; Thank you in particular to Faiza (@usertoxicyaoi) who has been giffing like mad to capture every important conversation in this episode which was so many of them. The one about moving to the dorms together made me misty fr. I love when youths who did not get a chance to have a childhood get to blow bubbles.

Unlock Your Love also started today, I really enjoyed the very pulpy and trope-filled previous show this team put together (Lucky My Love) so I've been excited for this. We have a workplace GL filled with canon bisexuals, a grumpy/sunshine dynamic with a history from college, and a playgirl. I'm so seated.

I don't usually do a roundup post like this but it just hit me how much good television I got to watch today, and how rare it is that I have this good a time with almost everything I'm watching, and I needed to capture the moment.

Tomorrow, all 6 episodes of A Time of Fever drop on iQIYI, as well as How to Make a Million Before Grandma Dies on Netflix, and that's in addition to the episodes of The Onl1y one, The Two of Us, Monster Next Door, Twilight Out of Focus, and probably Seoul Blues that will be dropping too.

I'm really having trouble keeping up with everything airing, everything I want to write about it, and everything being said about the shows on tumblr. It's the best possible problem to have!

[redamancy-and-daisies]

DISORGANIZED THOUGHTS ON TODAYS SHOW 12/11

OH yeah dally also was like fondling cherrys skirt like ive never seen him get that close like actually put a hand on her really nasty

tilly almost fell off the car

just sitting there minding her buisness was soooo sad hes sounded so little😭💔

johnny braced himself like full arms up as if dally was going to hit him during his parents’ scene

his voice is so fucking good

kwp said that ur problem, chet (twice)

ace slapped sodas ass(and later when shes leaving the house it looked like he was thinking abt it but didnt lol GOOD ANSWER jason)

Daryl looked at the knife before jumping off the train and beginning of faft

maggie is SO DIANE LANE like real mean girl energy but then she opens up and shes actually just a sweetheart

(u were a hood or a collegiate) heard an older lady in the audience (that laughed just like my grandma :c) saying this during intermission

cried sm in faft

soda kept being like dw johnny hes just like this dw during ritfr

marcia neverrr stops looking at two bit

HUGE coke splash someone said “car wash” after

the car came down so far during the park fight u could see a lot more of johnny which was great

he seems so in shock like way less screaming fs

saw barton mocking steve it was sooo nasty white boy esp since pony and his brothers were the only non black people(minus johnny) in the gang today the mix was so great

also tilly is just such a stand out she’s so fucking good

the kids that came on a school trip here are going CRAZY

after ponyboy spit someone went “THATS RIGHT”

cherry couldnt stop smiling at the end of icttyan shes also taller than josh which is so cute

daryl was either too quiet or didnt say 16 so it sounded like they were both 14 lol

“its probably wrong to cheer when someone gets stabbed”(overheard at intermission)

darry was going so fucking hard like it was vicious like more than normal which is nice bc ive seen it 3 times but hes really turned it up today

also kwp AND barton seemed more drunk than normal

overheard someone else saying maggie is so diane lane

socs were so agressive after drive in

johnnys just a KID THEY BOTH ARE

they nod after faft like theyre gonna run away then oh shit too late

daryl johnny is soooo how i pictured him in the book (so is sky!!!!) sky might be closer to the book bc he has some edge to him but daryls just was soooo so sad and scared

also his wig isnt that fuck ass!! it was curly!

ACT TWO

//

finally got to the fucking station after wandering in the dark and rain ok act two

cherry looked so sad at jft

SARAHGRACE MIC WAS ON‼️ SHE WAS SO CLEAR AND INCREDIBLE

“(back)to tulsa” was sooo sad he literally is just a kid

darry looked like he wanted blood w dally didnt get enough time to pull him on the car

jason was crying so hard at the end it was actually hard to watch just bright red falling apart he smacked brents shoe at “u get BITTER” and he was like hyperventaliting

and so was josh he cried smmm

saw tears in brents eyes i actually never have before

WHEN PAUL started sining in jft people like clapped/hollered his voice is such a slay it made people crazy

OH YEAH MAGGIE OPTIONED UP in “out looking for a fight”

paul throwing ace in the rumble never noticed that before

johnny hugging pony after damd and putting his head in lap 😭

ponys no after johnny died was devastating

HUGE laugh at “i got more inside me than just grease” but it mightve been brent’s “ok.”

this was the best brother’s fight ive seen like joshs first “shut up” was actually scary like a whisper

cant stomach little brother —theres actually no way in hell they snubbed his tony he deserves to break in and steal one bc he mf earned that he gets to this insanely devastating place 8 shows a week??? robbed

Josh’s high register in stay gold makes me cryyy

him hugging the clothes😭

soda kicking gravel on paul before the rumble

BARTON OPEN SHIRT IN RUMBLE never noticed/seen that before??

renniiiiii two bit was sooooo gooooood

maggie is SOOOOO pretty -ok ill leave u alone was so sad and frantic like she was abt to cry

titt jason sounded esp raspy early 00s country sooo good

i think joshs pony is soo believable as a 14 yr old bc of his height and vibe but i think hes my least fav pony😭but its more like u have 3 killer options & u HAVE to rank way not in a “trevor brody good josh bad” way yk

trevor is my fav pony and hes the only one i havent seen irl LMAO

oh maggies cherry wig is soo strawberry blond this is my second time seeing her shes fantastic

OH YEAH i never noticed before dally leaves the hospital he directs the ill snap a socs neck if i have to to cherry like whatever he was saying before that died on his lips bc he saw her and ive never clocked that moment before

[etherial-moon-blog]

Tease

Paring: Adult!Ao'nung x Adult!MetkayinaReader 

Na’vi dictionary: Sa’nu-mother, Metkayina- reef clan, ‘itan- son, ma‘ite- daughter, mawey-calm, kuru- neural queue

Summary: Reader gets her final tattoo signifying the end of her rites and her acceptance into the clan as an adult and is flirted with by Ao'nung along the way.

Word count: 1k

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, slight mention of needles 

A/N:  was bullied by @xylianasblog to post this

All characters depicted in this fic at 18+ minors dni | divider by @/cafekitsune

To say you were nervous would be an understatement, you were downright anxious. Today was the day that you’d be getting your final tattoo. This tattoo would signify your place among the Metkayina, and signal that you were eligible to find a mate in the upcoming mating cycle. 

You nervously chewed on your bottom lip as you paced around your marui, anxiously awaiting your escort. 

“Mawey, maite, you’re going to walk a hole into the floor.” Your mother remarks, not looking up from her weaving. 

“I’m sorry sa’nu, I’m just nervous is all.” You say as you stop your pacing. 

Your mother's face softens as she watches you, you hadn’t been nervous about all your previous tattoos but this one had been giving you a lot of anxiety recently. Wordlessly, she sets her weaving aside and gently pats her thigh. 

You shuffle over to her and plop down, laying your head on her thigh. She begins humming and gently runs her fingers through your hair. “I know you’re nervous maite, this was the tattoo your father was supposed to give you. I know we both miss him dearly but your sempul would be proud of the woman you are today, just as I am. 

You sit up and hug your mother, smiling as you do. She returns the embrace, holding you as close to her as she can. The two of you bask in your embrace and only pull away once you hear someone clear their throat. You and your mother turn to find Ao’nung standing at the entrance of your marui. 

“Sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt but my mom is ready for you now,” Ao’nung says.

You and your mother stand, and she gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before pushing you in Ao’nung’s direction. As you walk out you hear your mother's voice call behind you. “Make sure you two get there on time please, I’m too young to be a grandma!”

A deep purple blush blooms across your face and you grab Ao’nung’s arm as you speed up to get away from your marui quickly. Once you two are far enough away, Ao’nung chuckles. 

“Grandchildren huh? Never knew you liked me like that (y/n).”  Your face burns hotter and you hit him in the arm. 

“Because I don’t! My mom doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” You say frantically. You were not helping your case with how frantically you were denying her words.

Ao'nung only smirks in response to your flustered attempts to deny your crush. In one swift motion, he grabs your hand and pulls you by your waist so that your chest is pressed firmly against him. Leaning down, he presses your foreheads together, his lips barely touching yours.

“That’s a shame then, I was hoping I’d finally get to make you mine this mating cycle.” His voice has dropped an octave and the blush that was once leaving your face comes back in full force. 

“But..” He drops his hands from your body and steps away from you, leaving you breathless and missing his touch. “..since you don’t like me, I guess there’s no need to try.”  You shudder and release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in.

Did you hear what he said correctly? He wanted you to be his mate? No, he was probably just teasing you like he always did. He had known for a while that you had a crush on him. Tsireya had accidentally let the details of your feelings for him slip during dinner one night, the traitor. 

Quickly coming back to your senses, you punch him in the arm. “Don’t do that! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” He only chuckles in response and begins to walk ahead of you once again. You let out a sigh and followed him, silently hoping that his words held some truth. 

As you follow behind him, your thoughts are so consumed by what he said earlier that you don’t notice him suddenly stopping and you run directly into his back. He turns to face you, a smirk pulling at the edges of his lips. 

“If you wanted to be close to me, all you had to do was ask. I’d be more than happy to get close to you.”  Your face burns for the nth time that morning but before you can retaliate, a figure pushes aside the opening of the pod and steps outside. As Ronal’s gaze moved between you and her son, you couldn’t help but straighten yourself reflexively. Authority and beauty radiated from her in waves and you couldn’t help but stand in awe of her no matter how many times you’ve seen and interacted with her. 

“You were almost late ‘itan.  Next time take care to get here on time. Now your father needs your help with warrior training. Go now. And do not be late.” As she spoke her eyes never left yours. You barely heard what she said but as soon as she began walking into the pod you followed after her, sparing a glance back at Ao'nung before fully following her inside. 

As you entered the pod you glanced around, glimpsing at all the different herbs and jars collected around the room. As you looked around, you heard Ronal clear her throat and turn towards her. She was sitting down on a pillow and gestured beside her to a similar pillow. Taking a seat, you were once again subject to the intensity of her gaze. 

After what felt like an eternity she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them once more. “Lay down, Eywa shall guide my hand to bestow upon you the mark of our people. With this tattoo, you will finally become one of the people.” With surprisingly gentle hands, she guides you to lay flat on your stomach. She gently brushes your hair and kuru aside and runs a warm reassuring hand from the base of your neck to the base of your spine. 

Shuffling is heard behind you but as you move to turn your head, Ronal’s hand comes out and pushes your shoulders down gently. “You must stay still. My hand must be steady for Eywa’s guidance to flow through me.” You re-adjust yourself so that your head is resting on your folded arms. ‘Are you ready my child?” You nod, and let out a small breath as the needle touches your skin….

Taglist: @melllinaa @fev0ir @iaratezaewa @zaddyskye69 @kasai-https @darktyrantwinner @doctorswife221b @atxxokirina @iameatingmyhair @thepineapplesimp @lo707 @lyra997 @shadydreamlanddetective @atokirina-writings @plooto

[maddy-k-reads-all-day]

Appearances!

Riley’s at their grandmas so… I better get going. Sophie thinks. She sets up her phone for recording. Then she pulls out her laptop and sets it on the table. She hits record on the phone and puts the tape in. The tape begins to play. 

The episode begins with Amanda brushing her teeth and Wooly standing on a scale. 

“Whatcha doing?” Amanda asks, though it is slightly hard to hear with her toothbrush in her mouth. 

“Weighing myself…” Wooly replies. “Haven’t in a while.”

“How come?” “I wanna know how much I weigh…”

“Pssh! Who cares! Does that old thing even work?” 

“Mmm…” Wooly mumbles, seeming fixated on the numbers. Amanda spits out her toothpaste and walks over. 

“I wonder how much we both weigh together-” Amanda grins.

“Hold on Amanda we won’t both fit-” Amanda jumps on the scale causing the tape to glitch and the scale to break.

“Oops… Had a feeling that would happen.” Amanda comments, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s like 20 years old after all.” 

“Then why did you do that?!” Wooly snaps. The tape glitches again. 

“Cuz I hated this old thing. I always stub my toe on it in the morning.” Amanda says picking up. “In the trash it goes!” 

“Amanda you can’t keep breaking things just because you don’t like them!” Wooly protests. 

“Yeah Amanda, don’t go breaking Wooly’s things!” Sophie says, while taking photos of all the documents her mother collected. Amanda simply shrugs and starts brushing her hair. “Do you really need the mirror for that? I wanted to use it.” Wooly groans tapping his foot. 

“Might I remind you, you spent over an hour in here last night when I needed the bathroom!” Amanda argues. “This is payback.” 

“I was having a bubble bath!” Wooly screeches, causing the tape to glitch. 

“Wow Wooly, calm down.” Amanda says. Wooly takes a deep breath. Amanda taps her hairbrush against her lip thoughtfully, “I think I wanna try something new today…” 

“Something new?” Wooly says nervously. 

“Yeah like a new hairstyle… only… I don’t know what… hmm…” Amanda stands in front of the mirror experimenting with a couple simple things she knows how to do. “Thinking maybe a ponytail?” Amanda suggests, pulling it back and looking at herself in the mirror triumphantly. “What do you think?” 

“It looks nice.” 

“Thanks! It’s my first time!” Amanda grabs a face cloth and washes her face. Then she jumps down from the step stool and does a little dance. “Badada DA! Tada! Hehe! You can have the mirror now.” 

“Okay then…” Wooly chuckles a little. He gets up on the step stool and stands in front of the mirror. The tape glitches a little. “Something new huh…” he repeats subconsciously, feeling the fluffiness of his wool. Amanda turns around with a grin on her face.

“You wanna change things up too Wooly?” 

“Wha? Ha ha um… maybe?” Wooly laughs nervously. 

“Like what?” Amanda questions. Wooly looks down at his wool and then back at the mirror. 

“Honestly I was just thinking how much I hate having so much wool…” 

“Maybe you need a shearing?” Amanda suggests. Wooly thinks about it for a moment. Amanda pulls out a pair of shears out of thin air. Wooly looks down at his wool and panics. 

“Wh-why do you have those?” 

“Don’t ask silly questions!” Amanda beams, stepping a bit closer while Wooly takes a step back. She looks over and sees Sophie is still preoccupied and makes a wicked grin, stepping closer. 

“Whoa okay you’re getting pretty close with those…” 

“What? It could be fun!” 

“Nope!” Wooly says snatching the shears out of her hands, “Even if I did want this I definitely wouldn’t let you do it.” 

“Awww why not?” 

“With your ‘sharp objects’ track record? Absolutely not!” Wooly sneers.

“But spring is coming, so you’ll need a shear soon, Wooly.” 

“Amanda… Riley and Sophie have been watching the tapes out of order. In the past week it has gone from spring to summer to winter to fall to summer again. I don’t think seasons apply here.” 

“So you don’t want to lose some wool?” 

“Well… mmm…” 

“Is it because sheep don’t like being sheared?” Amanda questions. Wooly’s ears shoot up. 

“Wha- Of course not! I’m technically still human, you know!” Wooly protests.

“Hey… hey… I get it Wooly, I get it…” Amanda says softly. Wooly takes a deep breath. “So that’s why you’ve been avoiding sheep stuff?” 

“You noticed?” 

“Mmm… yeah… you never say ‘baaa’ anymore. You used to do it a lot in the beginning.” 

“I only used to do that because it was… well kind of like a vocal thing I’d do to make myself feel better?” Wooly explains. “But I didn’t remember being human at all back then so it doesn’t count.”

“Is that literally the only reason you haven’t sheared in literal ages?” 

“There are other reasons…” 

“Oh so it’s also that you don’t like change?” 

“Urk- I mean… there are other reasons too…” 

“What, you think you’ll look silly or something?” 

“When did you get so good at figuring me out?” Wooly groans.

“Aww Wooly! I’m sure you’ll look fine! But if you really don’t want to lose the wool…” 

“It’s not that I don’t want to… it’s just… I don’t know… I feel like it won’t fix the problem…” 

“What problem?” Amanda questions. Wooly stays silent for a while. “Well, I’ll give you some time to think about it. In the meantime I’m going to get dressed.” She says. The tape glitches and Amanda is fully dressed. Today she is wearing a black shirt with a red apple on it and gray denim shorts and flip flops. She looks at her nails thoughtfully. 

“Hmm… if I painted my nails black do you think they’d call me emo?” 

“Why are you doing all this?” 

“Well the whole theme of this episode is changing appearances right? Might as well have some fun! And since you aren’t going to do anything-” “I never said I wasn’t.” Wooly pouts.

“So what are you thinking?” 

“Well I don’t know… maybe I could lose some wool after all…” he says quietly. 

“Really?” Amanda smirks, “I knew it! You had it written all over your face the moment I suggested it!” she says proudly, “Wow I really am getting good at reading you like a book aren’t I?” 

“Yeah. I don’t like it.” 

“Hehe too bad!” Amanda sings, “Well anyway. If you were to get sheared we’d probably have to go to the farm, because I have no idea how to do that.” 

“Yeah no kidding.” Wooly rolls his eyes.

“Before we go we should probably pick out some summer clothes for you right?” 

“Oh yeah… I’ve missed my summer clothes.” Wooly smiles. The tape glitches to the living room where a big bin sits in front of them. Amanda rips the lid off and starts digging inside it. 

“Aha! Hey Wooly.” she grins, holding up a green and pink peach shirt. Wooly tilts his head a bit in confusion. “I think you should wear a peach shirt, to match my apple!” 

“You want us to be matching?” Wooly asks. 

“Yeah, that’s what best friends do sometimes right?” Amanda beams. Wooly wears a giddy smile. He picks out some shorts to match. “Are you ready to go?” Amanda asks. A wave of fear washes over him. 

“Whoa okay on second thought we could pro-probably wait till next year ri-right?” Wooly stammars nervously. The tape glitches to the farm. 

“Amandaaaaa do I have to?” 

“Just go Wooly. I’ll be right here waiting.” 

“You’ll be… right here…?”

“Yep. I’ll be right here petting this lonely little kitten.” Amanda says plopping down and already petting the cat. Wooly looks a little scared. “Come on Wooly you did this last year right? How bad could it be?” 

“Sometimes I wish you were the sheep for once.” He grumbles quietly, folding his arms.  

“What was that?” 

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” Wooly raises his arms up defensively. “I’m… going now…” 

“Good luck.” Amanda says. 

“Right… see you in a bit…” Wooly says nervously. He stands there for a couple more seconds. 

“Bye Wooly.” 

“Alright bye.” Finally Wooly leaves. Amanda picks up a long piece of grass and waves it around in front of the kitten who excitedly jumps and plays with it. Amanda giggles a little. 

“You know… these pre recorded episodes are nice… because I don’t have to ask so many questions… I can just… relax. Talking with people all the time is exhausting. No offense to you guys or Wooly… but this is nice.” Amanda sighs happily. She takes the kitten up into her arms in a gentle fashion, making sure its hind legs were supported and not just dangling in the air. “Let’s go check out the farm kitty! First let’s go see the piggies, can you tell me where the piggies are?” she says then she stops, “Oh yeah, I don’t have to do that.” nonetheless she picks up the kitten's paw and points to the piggy sign, “That’s right.” She giggles. The tape glitches to the pig pen. 

“Haha! Look at all the silly piggies, playing in the mud.” The kitten starts to try and wiggle itself free. “No, no kitty not here! You’ll get all dirty!” Amanda gasps. She looks around. “Oh nevermind this. We better go back and see if Wooly’s done. We don’t want him to get lonely waiting for us to come back. The tape glitches right back to where Amanda was originally playing with the kitten in the grass. 

“You know… I always wanted a kitty… why don’t you come home with me?” Amanda suggests. 

“Mew!” the kitten chirps back happily. Amanda smiles. Wooly comes back over. Fully sheared and wearing his new outfit. He looks pretty giddy.

“Oh, Wooly, how was it?” 

“Terrible. I hated it.” Wooly says cheerfully. 

“Oh… um… I’m sorry?” 

“Aaaah but I feel so light now… haha.” Wooly starts bouncing up and down. “Tag you’re it!” Wooly shouts, tapping Amanda on the shoulder before running away. Amanda stays right where she is. “Come on Amanda lets play.” She smiles and rolls her eyes. Wooly shrugs his shoulders and plays by himself jumping and running around for a bit. 

“What is he doing?” Amanda giggles quietly to the kitten. “He’s such a goofball.” 

“Amanda! Amanda! Let’s go on another adventure! Let’s do it! Ooooh! I bet I could beat you to the other end of the farm. Wanna race?” he questions, still bouncing with glee. 

“I’m glad you’re enjoying this so much.” Amanda chuckles. 

“Of course I am baa!” Wooly beams. He then covers his mouth with embarrassment. 

“Oh… I guess you can’t be here too long huh?” 

“No… it’s not that… I think.. I was just having so much fun and it kinda just slipped out.” 

“Oh okay.” Amanda shrugs, completely unbothered. “So you feel better now?” 

“Kind of… but I hate these stupid seams.” 

“Oh.” 

“See, this is why I was conflicted! I hate the wool and I hate the seams! I just can’t freaking win!” he groans.

“Okaaay then. Let’s go home. Hey farmer, I'm taking your cat!” Amanda calls out. The farmer does not respond, for he cannot. He simply hands Amanda some cat food. “Yay thanks! Let’s go home!” the tape glitches back to the bathroom. Amanda sets the kitten down and it sniffs about its new home. 

“Welcome to your new home kitty.” Amanda says, gently petting it. 

“I can’t believe you brought a cat home.” Wooly grumbles. 

“She’s mine now.” 

“But Amanda-” 

“Mine.” 

“Okay.” Wooly rolls his eyes. The cat leaves the room to continue exploring the house. Wooly looks in the mirror, looking discontented. “But I felt so much lighter…” 

“Bet you wish I didn’t break the scale this morning huh?” Amanda laughs. 

“You have a lot of nerve to say that.” Wooly grumbles, “Oh and guess what? I’m not helping you take care of that cat.” 

“What? Wooooooooly!” Amanda groans. 

“What nothing. You got the cat. You take care of the cat. I have my bubble baths!” Wooly pouts. Amanda bursts into laughter. 

“Wooly you are a riot!” she snorts. 

“Hey I’m serious!”

“I know I know.” Amanda chuckles. Wooly looks back at the mirror, still feeling unsatisfied. 

“I guess at the end of the day… I’ll always be a sheep huh?” he sulks. 

“Is there really a problem with that?” Amanda wonders. 

“It just doesn’t feel… me.” Wooly sighs. Amanda gives him a big hug. 

“Hehe you’re squishy.” Amanda giggles. Wooly’s face flushes with embarrassment and he tries to push Amanda off but she only hugs him tighter. 

“Amanda let go!” 

“Nuh-uh, not until you let go of this whole ‘appearance’ thing.” Amanda replies, “You’re Wooly and you always will be.”

“And I always will be…” Wooly repeats sadly.

“Yeah! My amazing best friend in the whole world!” 

“Right…” 

“Who is going to remember that he is perfect just as he is and changing appearances is supposed to be fun!” 

“Okay…”

“Did you have fun today?” 

“Yeah… I guess.” 

“Good.” Amanda finally lets go. She hears the kitten meowing from downstairs. “I better go feed our new kitty. I wonder what we should name her?” She walks out of the room. Wooly looks in the mirror one last time.

“I’m human. I’m human, I’m human, I’m human.” he takes a deep breath and slaps both cheeks at once. “Ugh get yourself together Wooly.” Then he also leaves the room and the episode ends. The tape falls out of the machine. It takes Sophie a few minutes to realize that the tape ended and she ends the recording. 

Authors note: Part 4 begins! In the first draft of this, it was gonna start with Amanda being absolutely pissed that Wooly was taking too long in the bathroom. Amanda has some... interesting ways of dealing with Wooly's insecurities. The next couple tapes will probably be like this with Amanda and Wooly just interacting with each other while the tapes are being recorded. I feel like Amanda and Wooly were getting a little out of character (if you ever sense that happening let me know) so I watched some tapes again and hopefully they are back on track.

Here's their summer outfits:

Plus a little doodle of a little guy who might be making an appearance soon.

Edit: I feel like at some point off-screen Sophie showed her how to do a ponytail or she happened to see Sophie putting her hair up at one point.

[gingerjunhan]

boyfriend headcannons - lee jooyeon

☆彡 the long awaited end of this sweet little series is finally here!! I hope you all enjoyed! :) 🩷

word count: 633 | pronouns used: none | genre: fluff, established relationship | cws: swearing, all caps, not proofread, lmk if something is missing!

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it’s time for our sillies little boyfie

omg okay where do I begin

he holds your hand all the time

out in public, in bed while cuddling, under the dinner table like you’re in middle school-

he wants you close at all times

he loves you so so so sooooo much

I am the queen of the Jooyeon clingy boyfriend agenda

he LOVES PDA

okay- in reality he love what you’re comfortable with- but still

he loves being able to show you off!

you’re his! he’s dating you! he can’t believe it!!!

once he gets comfortable the pet names are… oh boy

the type of cringe you would expect from Gunil tbh

“baby”

“bubs”

“SWEET PEA” 🥹

“pookie”

“pumpkin” on rare occasions

he likes to have fun with them

you would probably make most of your plans bc have you seen the way this man uses bubble?

he will not answer your damn phone calls!

(but he means well I swear)

the selfies you get from this man are either killer or hilarious

it’s like,, a Seungmin level fit check or a .5 image where it looks like he’s looking both directions at once 💀

but it’s okay bc you love him for it obvi 🫶🏻

speaking of loving him, Jooyeon strikes me as another member of xh that your younger siblings or cousins would love

NAHH YOU KNOW WHO WOULD LOVE HIM??

YOUR GRANDMA!!!!

children find him funny and old people find him charming and endearing

they would totally say you’re dating a prince lol

please play with his hair

I feel like he would love it

he lowkey loves it when you baby him?

like, eat the vegetables off of his plate and tell him how cute he is and he’ll eat that shit up

he is constantly singing

he makes songs up about what he does during the day

he’ll randomly hit you with the, “earlier today I was 🎶washing the dishes🎶 and I almost broke a plate.”

I feel like one of his go-to gifts would be plushies?

it’s your birthday? plushie

valentine’s day? here’s a little guy

and he forces you to name them all

sometimes he comes up with the names before he even gives them to you

“Here you go!” *hands you a plushie* “This is Bart.”

he is so amazed by you all the time

he truly idolizes you and the way you carry yourself and treat people

you aren’t afraid to be a little weird or different and he would love it!!

he would write songs for you :(

he would write songs about you :,(

I think it would be sooooo easy to fluster him

“You look very pretty today Jooyeon.” he’s red as can be

but don’t worry because he can dish it out just as well as he can take it

hot take: I bet Jooyeon secretly has rizz

it doesn’t happen often, but every now and then he hits you with a really good one-liner that honestly leaves you at a loss for words

he loves cuddle sessions :( my sweet, clingy boy

very excitable!

you could suggest watching paint dry as a date idea and he would be vibrating with excitement

loves loves loooves when you wear his clothes ESPECIALLY out in public!

it’s like your little way of showing people you’re taken

he would melt of you ever referred to him as, “my boyfriend” to someone in public like-

‼️ that’s him ‼️

he’s a ball of sunshine when he’s around you, but he also knows when to dial it back and be more serious as well

the duality to this man comes into play with more than just his stage presence!

overall, Jooyeon never stops smiling when he’s with you because he constantly has something to be thankful for 🩷

taglist: @dazzlingligth , @mini-mews , @mxlly143 , @somethingaboutcheese , comment to be added!⁎⁺˳✧༚

[heavyhitterheaux]

Down For Life

First Lady of Private Garden Instagram AU

Liked by y/ninsta, druski2funny, urbanwyatt, normani, jaysontatum, and 105,236 others

autumnharlow: daddy watching mommy's favorite show even though he said it was dumb

urbanwyatt: he's watching the bachelor again isn't he? y/ninsta: urbanwyatt and was mad as hell that his favorite contestant didn't get a rose lmao autumnharlow: urbanwyatt all we heard was him screaming at the tv, "Kelsea?! Kelsea?!? OVER MARIAH? Are we serious right now? How can he not see that the way she even spells her name is suspect?! who spells it like that?!" y/ninsta: autumnharlow not too much on my man now! lmaooo jackharlow: what the?!? who took this?! autumnharlow seriously? autumnharlow: jackharlow mommy made me y/ninsta: it be your own kids telling on you smh jackharlow: y/ninsta well you know if we were on that show, I would choose you every time blancahood: jackharlow I guess so because she would have fought anybody that came near you lmao y/ninsta: blancahood lmaoooo no lies told jessicakelce: I still remember her beating up that girl at lunch and she grabbed 2fo's milk and hit her in the back of the head quiiso: I WAS DYINGGGGGGG LAUGHING LMAO jackharlow: well that girl shouldn't have asked me to the dance IN FRONT OF MY GIRLFRIEND, she had it coming lmao urbanwyatt: and right before our winter formal lmao yungskylark: so we just chilled in her backyard that night because she got suspended lmao shloob_: look we were like either all of private garden goes or none of us goes 😭 y/ninsta: yall been down for me since the beginning and I love it 😭

Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, 2forwoyne, quiiso, privategarden, jessicakelce, and 1,497,062 others

y/ninsta: idk who let these two out of the house unsupervised but it wasn't me 🙃

jackharlow: y/ninsta IT WAS YOU! YOU SAID I COULD GO! y/ninsta: jackharlow I don't recall baby. You just left me by my lonesome. jessicakelce: y/ninsta you not by your lonesome with them six kids you got lmao go bother them y/ninsta: jessicakelce I'm hiding from them axelwyatt: y/ninsta mom, I'm hungry y/ninsta: axelwyatt mom? who's mom? urbanwyatt: y/ninsta you better answer your kids lmaooooo y/ninsta: urbanwyatt I don't have any autumnharlow: jackharlow DADDY, MOMMY ISN'T CLAIMING US jackharlow: autumnharlow who...... who are you? blancahood: lmaooo yall are a hot ass mess smh ivyharlow: that's okay, I'm telling grandma jackharlow: IVY, YOU BETTER NOT maggieharlow: jackharlow too late. you two are starving my babies? jackharlow: maggieharlow they have eaten us out of a house, home, car, yacht, all of it smh normani: I see number 7 in the future jackharlow: normani give me a few years y/ninsta: jackharlow give you a few years to do WHAT?! jackharlow: y/ninsta love you baby 😘

Liked by y/ninsta, urbanwyatt, claybornharlow, blancahood, brandisimmons, saweetie and 3,286,451 others

jackharlow: I know yall can tell who dressed them today 🥰

y/ninsta: Cash and Cam, my greatest joys 😍 ivyharlow: y/ninsta soooo we don't exist? we are your first born children? jessicakelce: OMG THEY ARE ADORABLE saweetie: my cutest littlest nephews! y/ninsta: ivyharlow I'm not claiming you as my child until you clean your room like I asked now get off your phone before I take it ivyharlow: y/ninsta fine smh urbanwyatt: outfits courtesy of uncle urby and auntie curse 🥰 theestallion: jackharlow has gotten better with his fashion choices over the years so I expected nothing less jackharlow: theestallion I'm ignoring you smh dualipa: awww my little babies!! so cute! brandisimmons: and look at those smiles! druski2funny: I already know from the looks on their faces, they about to be bad as hell jackharlow: druski2funny you better shut the hell up and not speak that into existence y/ninsta: druski2funny imma whoop your ass druski2funny: yall remember when I was babysitting the triplets and they tied me to a chair and put tape over my mouth? I was trapped for hours jackharlow: druski2funny lmaoooo I still have photographic evidence, how could we forget? y/ninsta: nah, but urbanwyatt got the worst of it because he was put in solitary confinement lmaooo urbanwyatt: y/ninsta don't bring up old shit smh jackandy/naremyparents: still so happy to witness the life that they created for themselves allthingsy/n: been here since the beginning and still going strong!

Liked by urbanwyatt, claybornharlow, blancahood, saweetie, quiiso, privategarden, and 2,384,200 others

y/ninsta: the face I make on a daily basis because these kids have me fighting for my life

jackharlow THIS IS YOUR FAULT

jackharlow: you wanna make another one? y/ninsta: jackharlow BLOCKED dualipa: jackharlow you've done enough lmao get off of her jackharlow: dualipa I can never do enough y/ninsta: jackharlow SAYS WHO? jackharlow: y/ninsta me 🥰 y/ninsta: normani look what you started smh quiiso: jackharlow y/ninsta yall can have another one and give it to me jackharlow: quiiso yeah right, all y/ninsta has to do is take one look at them and she's going to want to keep them brandisimmons: jackharlow she has a nurturing spirit, we all know this. that's why she was able to keep yall asses in check 2forwoyne: brandisimmons now why am I in it? brandisimmons: 2forwoyne because you liked to steal people's food back in the day smh 2forwoyne: look if it was left unclaimed, I was eating it y/ninsta: 2forwoyne sounds like my second born smh axelwyatt: maggieharlow they still didn't feed me jackharlow: axelwyatt now why are you lying? 🙄 maggieharlow: jackharlow that's okay. I'm coming to get them and feeding them and you can't have any claybornharlow: I'm coming too jackharlow: claybornharlow the accidental child has returned y/ninsta: JACKMAN STOP IT RIGHT NOW claybornharlow: y/ninsta it's okay, I'm just biding my time jackharlow: claybornharlow what are you planning? 👀👀👀 y/ninsta: oh good lord smh claybornharlow: jackharlow that's for me to know and you'll find out when the time comes ivyharlow: uncle clay just blame it on autumn, she does everything else she's not supposed to autumnharlow: ivyharlow and that's why you're adopted ivyharlow: autumn, I look exactly like our mother, try again axelwyatt: I'm still the favorite sooooo the two of you arguing is unnecessary smh

Liked by jackharlow, cardib, generationnow, estgee, lilnasx, drusi2funny, 2forwoyne, and 4,291,763 others

y/ninsta: Ivy, Axel, Autumn, Nova, Cash, and Camden Harlow's momma 🥰

Damn that was a mouthful 🤣

jackharlow: we going for number seven 😍😍😍😍 y/ninsta: jackharlow don't make me block you again saweetie: jack, pleaseeee let my girl live lmaoooo y/ninsta: saweetie that's okay, he's going to wake up one day and hear the tires screeching out the driveway and he'll have to fend for himself for 48 hours urbanwyatt: jackharlow and don't call me to help you druski2funny: jackharlow or me. I've had enough of my fair share of terror of the Harlow children y/ninsta: NOT TOO MUCH ON MY BABIES NOW 🤨🤨🤨 autumnharlow: y/ninsta nice of you to claim us, mother y/ninsta: autumnharlow don't you have homework to do? jessicakelce: the blue hair baddie has returned! sza: do I hear a girls trip in the future being planned? jackharlow: sza NO. not unless y/ninsta can put me in her suitcase quiiso: jackharlow now bruh....... urbanwyatt: jackharlow lmaoooo now you know good and well privategarden is having flashbacks from the last time when we had to BEG neelam to buy you a plane ticket to go and see your wife yungskylark: he had everybody's ass stressed out claybornharlow: and was getting on maggieharlow's nerves so I know it was bad lmao she was calling me saying 'please come and get your brother to entertain him because I don't know how much more I can take' lmaooooo axelwyatt: he's been a simp since he was 14 and nothing has changed jackharlow: axelwyatt being a simp is what got you here so tread lightly and you are just as bad if not WORSE than me when it comes to your mom autumnharlow: hmm dad has a point, ax y/ninsta: yall better not come for my baby! jackharlow: y/ninsta I knew you'd have my back 🥰 y/ninsta: jackharlow I was talking about axel jackharlow: y/ninsta SO YOU JUST LEAVE ME TO FEND FOR MYSELF? y/ninsta: jackharlow yes, you can handle it urbanwyatt: LMAOOOOOOO axel is literally jackharlow in a kid's body

Liked by brandisimmons, theshaderoom, blancahood, sza, theestallion, jaysontatum, urbanwyatt, and 2,182,963 others

y/ninsta: my face when jackharlow suggests we make another baby. SIR, MY VAGINA IS TIRED 😫

saweetie: jackharlow imma have to kidnap her if you don't let my girl live in peace jackharlow: saweetie not too much on me now. yall remember last week when you, her, and hot chips went to brunch and drank all those damn mimosas? I came to get her, drunk off her ass and she was damn near trying to rip my clothes off as I was driving. IT'S NOT ME, IT'S HER urbanwyatt: lmaooo and I was a witness to this so jackharlow is in fact not lying lmaoooo sza: hmm we have evidence in the group chat that suggests otherwise, but since you have a witness this time, imma let it slide y/ninsta: jackharlow I... what? not you telling on me jackharlow: y/ninsta I had to defend my name! you always throwing me under the bus! claybornharlow: jackharlow actually you do that to yourself, but.... druski2funny: now why am I up there? what I do?! y/ninsta: druski2funny you cheap as hell for giving the triplets a coupon to mcdonalds for their birthday and told them that they had to all share the medium fry that the coupon was for blancahood: PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEE 2forwoyne: now druski2funny you know better lmao lilnasx: he ghetto as hell and he doesn't know any better smh druski2funny: y/ninsta I HADN'T GOTTEN PAID YET jackharlow: druski2funny lies you tell jessicakelce: their faces were priceless lmaoooo autumnharlow: and he wonders why he got tied up smh axelwyatt: playing cops and robbers, but there was nothing to rob since he didn't have anything normani: I AM LITERALLY CRYINGGGG druski2funny: now why everybody coming for me?!? y/ninsta: druski2funny and you wanted to be his life partner so bad, but cheap as hell? that was not about to fly smh jackharlow: y/ninsta sooo about number seven? y/ninsta: jackharlow you know I'm down for you for life but.... ABSOLUTELY NOT smh jackharlow: well it was worth a shot I guess smh

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