#how to decorate your bedroom on a budget

[fairmaiden8]

Designing with Restraint: Tips for Creating a Stunning Bedroom Without Breaking the Bank

Designer Bedroom Ideas on a Budget Creating a stunning bedroom doesn’t have to break the bank. Here are some designer bedroom ideas that won’t cost you an arm and a leg: 1. Invest in quality basics – Instead of buying trendy pieces, invest in classic items like a comfortable mattress, stylish sheets, and a cozy comforter set. These essentials will last for years and provide a solid foundation for…

[yournightmary]

Roommate!Ellie HCs | part II

content warning:: fem!reader, modern!AU, pretty sure that’s it

AN:: Hope you all enjoy this:) xx

part I here!

⇢ ˗ˏˋ roommate!Ellie who loves going to the store with you. Whether you’re going to get the groceries or just doing a quick run for a snack- she’s tagging along.

also- definitely walks behind you like a kid, pointing at everything on the shelves and asking you if she can get that. Or just puts the most random and weird things in your cart.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ roommate!Ellie who feels weird whenever someone touches her hair but still asks you to cut it for her. For the love of god, she can’t cut the back even if she wants to. If she does it herself she’ll end up with shitty layers, not in the cool grungy girl way.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ roommate!Ellie who will get hyperfixated on one specific food and she will eat only that for two months straight. Then she’ll get sick of it and won’t be able to even look at it :(

⇢ ˗ˏˋ roommate!Ellie who always helps you pick an outfit just so she can shamelessly stare at you. Also offers you to help with your hair, just so she can touch it and be close to you.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ roommate!Ellie who made you sit through a 9 hour youtube video about FNAF lore and later questioned you about it. Would pretend to be mad when you answered wrong.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ roommate!Ellie who shares all her subscriptions with you. You two share a netflix account, you have spotify duo maybe even the apple one family thingy if you have an iphone. You always send her half the costs but she somehow always manages to give it back. Most of the times just buys you a gift with it.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ roommate!Ellie who has the humor of a 12 year old boy. She knows all of the brainrot jokes and doesn’t get how you can’t understand them or don’t find them funny.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ roommate!Ellie who tried to take you out on a date multiple times but it always ends up a flop. Whether you stumble upon some mutual friends and hang out together or just don’t do anything date-like, you never seem to pick up on her hints. You do. She’s just oblivious.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ roommate!Ellie who made most of the art in your apartment herself. There’s definitely at least one portrait of you, proudly displayed in the living room.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ roommate!Ellie who is the scary-bug killer in your duo. Big spider in the shower? Weird, flying, buzzing bug in your bedroom? Give her a minute tops and you’ll be safe again.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ roommate!Ellie who literally cried when she got back from work before christmas, seeing the whole apartment decorated. Then she got excited like a kid when she noticed there were gifts under the mass cane plant, your budget too small to get an actual christmas tree so you just used the beloved house plant you already had.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ roommate!Ellie who finally confessed her feelings on valentine’s day, when you both didn’t have a date so you just watched shitty rom-coms together. Was literally shaking on the couch and almost backed out twice.

your relationship didn’t really change once you became a couple, Ellie just got a lot more touchier. She denies it but her love language is physical touch. She’s a softie at heart.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ roommate!Ellie who leaves notes all around the apartment so you can find them while she’s at work. It’s mostly awful dad jokes, she probably gets them from Joel.

[sunflowerzyk]

Royal Guard Simon Riley x Princess Reader

Part1. Part3.

SFW Part2.

Knight! Simón who is an exceptional watchdog, assists your aldo in all your royal duties by taking the place of your mother as queen. Budgeting for decorations, banquets, festivals, palace maintenance and making appearances when your father was unable or too busy to do so.

He came to all of that.

Even though he knew it would be extremely uncomfortable for him, Simon agreed. Because of you.

He could have sent one of his subordinates or even some of your maids to keep you company.

But he was a selfish bastard who wanted to be there, by your side, to make sure his little princess was okay.

His. Keeping away the gazes of the vultures that watched your tender, calm flesh.

He was willing to put up with your tantrums and tantrums when you asked to go out to tea parties and he denied you.Willing to listen to your little gasps behind the door that only he guarded. Listening to your little discoveries like how ants, no matter how small, would commit more war crimes for an insignificant piece of bread.

He would accept anything just to see your eyes fixed directly into his without fear. Without hesitation.

Your voice although sometimes awkward in connecting your tongue with your thoughts, you never failed to be direct and look at him as.... Perhaps if a terrifying man, but he had understood that you were strangely uncomfortable.

"Stop looking at me like that, princess" he asked quietly, standing in front of your bedroom door, not allowing you to leave. "I said you're not going to the orchard today."

You glared at him, protesting your excuses for going to check on your little new sprouts, downplaying the threat your father had given you for doing things for lower-class people. You didn't mind getting reprimanded by your old dad.

But Simon did. It made his blood boil to see you with your head down. Always.

"Wait until the waters calm down," he asked in a gentler tone. Which definitely confused you, taking the frustration away from your face.....

He liked that expression too.

[3archangelsaints]

I'm actually dying and living for the idea that Simon Riley is such a hard worker for you. Being a soldier doesn't pay much, but considering how frugal he is, and how often he's overseas, he has money. Not rich, but with your income too, you could have what you wanted. You wanted to move to have a house, garden and all. Massive house. A few dogs. Marriage. He'd let you decorate how you wanted but he kept you in check, knowing sometimes you got overwhelmed with choices.

Luckily, his squad mates, who'd become family to you were there to be useful, who'd helped reduce renovation prices, ironically Price was in charge of delegation and keeping to the budget. The house was furnished and then painted. It was painted within a week, a light beige and brown undertones, you strictly stated no pure white as you said it was depressing. Clinical. Not homey. They all agreed.

Soon you were on Simon's shoulders, wrapping yellow led lights around the roof cover on the deck leading to the massive garden. Gaz and Soap were in charge of the music. You loved having everyone around for renovations because it made it an experience, made memories.

Price was finishing up on the phone to someone, someone you didn't know but it wasn't out of the ordinary. They were going to go on a mission soon. You paused and then you smiled. Feeling content.

After everything was done, you'd sat down and had takeout with everyone. And then there was a knock on the door, your head turning.

Price is up and at the door, in comes Laswell. Kate. Holding a drycleaning bag and you see your siblings and parents and friends walk in. You look confused. Dropping the food to greet then. Bewildered.

Then your niece snatches some food from your plate so you hug her from behind and lift her up as she laughs and pushes you off, complaining she's too mature.

And next thing you know Simon is on his knees. Handing you a simple band. "Will you marry me?" He knows its a yes, but he knows you'd love the on one knee thing, technically, he'd proposed with a promise ring, so he knew.

Next thing you know, you're being pushed into your room, into a wedding gown you'd shown Gaz and Soap one time when Simon had been deployed on a solo mission. You get married at the courthouse and had an intimate celebration in the garden at dark.

It was everything you wanted. Giggles and laughter as Simon's eyes never leave you, watching you keenly as you giggle and cheer in celebration. It's a shame he'd gotten married in his gear, but he was being deployed and had to leave by 5 am, they all did. You loved it. It was part of him, gear and all and his seargents and captain. And Kate. Bless her.

And soon you were saying bye to them all, Simon kissed you and then they were gone. Out the door and he took your heart with him. Kate came up and hugged you. She was like a mum to you. You hugged her back tightly, and she helped you set up sleeping situations for your friends and family. There were 2 guest bedrooms and a study, and the attic had space enough for all your friends.

Laswell helped you out the dress and take off your makeup, she'd undid your hair, brushing it for you and it was soothing. Like a kid being cared for. You went to bed in shorts and an old hoodie of Simon's. Laswell cuddled you to sleep, you didn't want to be alone and she knew that.

She saw the wound in your heart as they left. She was packing the open wound with gauze, it was painful, but right now, her doting was stopping the bleed.

I should actually do a long fanfic or even series of this cause I love the idea.

[joannasteez]

the aftermath

pairing: tattooist!cm punk x reader warning: mentions of needles, and biting, and explicit descriptions and dialogue pertaining to sex. tattooist!punk (this warning is more for me cuz he makes me delusional sometimes) authors note: nothing really. just enjoy! if so, don't be afraid to let me know! inspired by @kill-the-artiste master class in ✨tension✨… please go read. RUN NOT WALK! word count: 3500 tagging: @333creolelady @harmshake @reebs-luvs-rhodes-and-wrestling @2-muchsauce

in for a penny of pain, in for a beauty by the pound

@ WARNING: all work is of quality but more importantly is done with respect to the bodies health and limits

the way your apartment window faces, you never get the sun till a ways after high noon. so no. this isn't your apartment. exhaustion playing in your legs. a good, sated, tired ache. like if you bend or extend too much too quick they'll cave in and collapse without warning. they'll remind you of how horrible it is, to make assumptions about a perceived strength. especially when it's so obvious that you aren't ready to leave the cool touch of his sheets. his. oh shit. because the bedroom in your apartment doesn't get much sun with the way it faces and it for damn sure isn't cream colored and littered with wood framed portraits. memory like a teasing trickle in of rain. little droplets collecting—his teeth grazing, the patient mischief of a wolf, sinking in to pull skin—till they ripple and pool together. a throb of something journeying to live between your thighs, swirling till it breaches skin again in an effect to make you shiver, to make you shift against the sheets because he,—"you can't stay still for shit can you?"—that's what he'd said. making rough impressions in your thick soft skin. holding and groaning and amused. buried amidst the pillow of your inner thighs, eager tongue dipping to lick against the desperate pulse of your clit. whimpers and moans and near shrill begging, and—oh God—your stomach swirls. embarrassment this deep exhale as your head falls in your hands. 

and for a second, the world plummets into something disgusting. a disturbing shade of gray. laughter breaking beyond the crack open of the bedroom door. because he could be laughing at you right? mulling over and recounting the events of the night with a buddy and having a go at making you miserable enough to delight in some fucked sort of amusement at the helpless way you moaned and teared for him. but thats not what it is. it's quiet chatter and early morning comedy. little hums of his early day coarse voice and a bold, earthy warmth. coffee. your mouth watering and the emptiness in your belly going about a great terrible violence as it growls and shudders. a hickory note of something twisting the air, the back of your throat dry, and seemingly—well...not seemingly, because that sort of implies some lack in surety. you'd made good, disgusting, honest, work of voicing just how much fun you were having. that much you remember, and fortunately, you remember everything. alcohol forgone for the sake of lucidity. because you know what he is. a buddy of yours just as clean and straightedged. 

in a fuller state of honesty, it'd be accurate to say it was all like form of reverence. an eagerness to please. anything if it meant him peeling your jeans off quickly. and yes, he'd done it. but it was more patient than you'd wanted. like he was reciprocating that reverence. studying and planning. 

his dresser draws are wooden, much like the rest of his decor. a polished mahogany that brings more warmth to the room. 

rolled up t-shirts sorted in no particular fashion, the fit of it snug as it falls over. 

at the corner foot of the dresser lays last nights underwear. a predetermined pick. simple, and black and lacy. nearly tattered to bits because his patience had eventually reached a max capacity before he dove headfirst into being a damn brute. 

underwear is a hot commodity when you ball on a budget. he owes you. 

you sift for something reasonable. a checkered pair of boxer briefs that fit more like boy-shorts, but it works. slipping your jeans over them. and his bathroom isn't so much huge but it is lived in. comfortable. the tiles, a sage green with minor cracks made more from age than from some man made disruption.

and thank God almighty. he's not the three-in-one type. a wash cloth and a toothbrush laying lonely along the bathroom counter, separate from the other things. you hum. going about a quick wash up. 

and whats that saying? it's only awkward if you make it awkward. because hell, there was nothing tricky or particularly delicate about fucking your tattooist right? you could do a small stint away. go cold turkey from your favorite past time. a silent walk of semi-shame and a few months till your next appointment would do the trick. enough time to forget such a destructive allure living with his words and the way he said—"you been waitin for this for a while huh? so pretty, lettin me touch you"—things. his every expression an accusation. exposing the unspoken things living behind just barely placid eyes. desires, fantasies and half baked plots for his attention.

the pain of a needle is no worser than this. cant be. cant be worser than the creak of the floors, announcing your entrance to the kitchen. his little chuckling smile forming less loose and more attentive as he drinks you in. an unabashed performance of observation that makes the skin crawl. a shiver really. green eyes cool, heavy, and exacting, like metal. like the prick of his needles. wandering with ease—your jean dressed legs, a clinging t-shirt that rides up some as you walk and the slow but sure appearance of indentations about your neck that indicate his penchant for tasting, biting —while stuck between a casual, early morning call and your performance of feigning indifference. 

he hums. a response to whoever is holding him over the phone. tongue slipping over his bottom lip before he's turning back to the stove.

coffee sits in a mug littered with dog breeds. the steam of it curling up thick. a plate half dressed next to it. just finished buttered toast and still hot eggs. his arm reaching over to drop bacon on it. teeth baring as he laughs into his call. flits of his eyes that motion for you to eat. stationing to lean against the long stretch of marble that makes up the kitchen island. a focused attention. assessing your quiet take to indulging in whatever this is. because he didn't need to make you breakfast, didn't need to brew you coffee and leave you comfortably tucked in the sheets. but then again, he'd more than generously put you to sleep. wore your nerves and bones down. rendered you to a bout of tears even. yeah. he owes you breakfast. your fork digging into the eggs. and a new pair of damn underwear. 

"yeah, i need you opening up shop for me today...", he gives. a sweet, feminine voice sighing deeply over the other end. loud and long enough to reach you. something in your stomach swirling odd and quite disgusting. sharp and twisted up. "...i'll be a little late, got caught up in something this morning...", the folding over of the words along his tongue giving your skin a chill. a ride of a shiver up your back. his eyes slipping over your face. a pale green leaving their edged, assessing, impressions. "...i owe you one...alright...", his thumb tapping the screen to end the call. 

the bacon is salty on the tongue. satisfies the nothingness on your palette. your fork poking dumbly. like you'll find brilliant words amidst the plate. a sick little smirk on his mouth. loving your inability to look at him without wavering. 

why in the absolute hell did you fuck this man? the fit of his boxer briefs odd under your jeans. poorly shaped to hips and thighs, the material not made to take that kind of stretch. 

"you owe me new underwear...", that declaration of it too feathered. not strong enough. not sure. his lips spreading more. joy taking his face up wholly. feeling it as he casts his eyes over you. "...i'll send a receipt or something...".

"noted. how do you like to take it?"

excuse me? your throat drying up. fingers clutching the fork tight. your belly flipping stupidly quick. too damn excitable. 

"what?"

the mug of coffee he'd poured for you in his hand. the sugar jar close by. spoon ready to be used for it's stirring purpose. an elation pouring from his cheeks that makes you want to curl in. "coffee". a slow, near patronizing reiteration. "how do you like to take your coffee". 

"oh...", breath a little caught in your throat. the unsettled frenzy under skin an oddity. because this very regular, slightly older, very good looking, self assured man, shouldn't have such an affect. "..um...a little sugar, a lot of cream". 

and he does it to perfection. listens and performs. giving short flits of his eyes to yours. stirring and assessing. an appraisal. your neck heating from the sensation of being examined. satisfaction brightening him up at such rough handy work made the night before. smug fucking asshole. that curling scrape of the spoon against coffee filled porcelain winding up your curiosities to a nagging degree. sensitivities under the skin too plain and forthright to ignore. too well suited actually. like they've taken up a comfortable residence after just one night of being made pliant. had others felt this way once upon a time? sat where you sit now? being made by themselves to snuff out the disgusting giddiness of some post-night spectacle. a green, rotten, world of a feeling in the pit of your stomach now. 

"do you—...", finding the phrasing, forming properly on the tongue, "...you usually get caught up in... things...like this?" 

a scoff but it's fully amused. his lips spreading, a chuckle slipping into words. "is that a 'do i regularly fuck my clients question', cause if so then no". the mug sliding along the marble island. coffee prepped pluming thick still. "you're the first. congrats". 

this fucking guy. "oh?"  that bite of irony in him, troubling the skin playfully, as if to lure you out from behind that disconcerting wall you've so diligently built, in an attempt to evade him. his eyes and that little smirk he feels the need to keep along his mouth. "i didn't realize you were some sort of prize". 

his head tilts, gaze slipping up and over and about. appraisal again. the look you give at the arrival of an object of affection, desire after some time. a satisfaction born from the restoration of a familiar, comfortable thing. your jaw shifting soft as you chew. lips pursing over the mug to sip tenderly. a drip of coffee falling off and away from your mouth. his pace quick as he plucks a napkin to hand you.

"i mean...", his body leaning in against the island. elbows pressing to the marble to bring him closer. his hair a little messy and untamed. "...i don't think so, but you were lettin a lot loose last night. little noises and such. i figured you were just so happy and satisfied...", grabbing his own mug to sip from. delighting in the silence, in the astonishment his teasing is leaving you to settle in. "...felt like you'd won something". 

your cheeks are warm. hot even. stomach suddenly full off of his domestic efforts of a hot breakfast. your fingers gingerly pushing the plate away towards him, but the pull and roll of your eyes speak of something a little more heated than some gingered, cautioned disposition. his cockiness doing awful work. irking your nerves and reeling you in just the same. and maybe it's your turn to appraise. to examine and assess. his early morning, kitchen attire very obviously calculated enough to bring about some dead-brained, teenaged, short circuiting. chest shirtless and his legs covered in mesh shorts. arms tatted and muscled. grays and dark brown hair like a fine patch work on his face. admirable things of course, but you've already, obviously, given yourself away in revealing how much of it you find appealing. he doesn't need more. 

an attempt to bruise should work. if not successful, at least give it a go right?

"you were alright", you shrug. chest hammering, near implosion. his eyes casting down, daring for an evasion. "i give it an A minus. there's always room for improvement". 

"ouch", he laughs. a wide, bright, light expression. dumping your finished plate into the sink. "if i knew i was getting tested on performance, i'd have strove for higher marks...". sipping from his mug again. a head shake to express disagreement. "...but some of the judgement here is a bit range-less...doesn't really grasp the full effect of my—"

"dick?"

you stiffen just after the leave of it. a thought never meant to be expelled but here you are, fighting the urge to curl in and hold your head. heart beating terribly hard. embarrassment rife. 

"...capabilities...but now i see where your heads at. i think this is grounds for some rescoring. you're impaired". 

"by what exactly?" 

he hums. that head tilt again. "you were a little eager last night, which, given how long you been wantin and schemin, is very understandable, but those good, true bits of judgement are from how well you can savor it right? you gotta stop and smell those roses". 

you scoff. "scheming is a reach". 

his eyes roll. pushing off the edge of the island. "an observation". shuffling back slightly to make a bodies worth of space. his hand motioning. "come here". 

"for what—"

"please", like he's sweetening the give of a request. an appeal. like he knows just the chord to strum to produce the work of some easier follow through. 

eyes softer but exacting. a clever lure in. like last night. like when he fit and slotted his mouth against yours and breathed deeply. fingers gentler and patient, pushing in to soothe the quake of your thighs. your body undone beneath him. performing a beautiful release with the song of all those little noises he couldn't help but to bring up now for his amusement. palms slipping between your legs then for more. to spread and curl. a dangerously steady feed in, swirling along the tender beginning of your pussy. toying and prodding, suckling your neck, and then a knuckle deep stroke that sorely excites already sensitive nerves. your legs pressing in to trap him to a stillness. his mouth at your ear. hot breaths, your skin shivering. a kiss to the shell of it before his delicate "please". that manner of request unfolding your legs easy. the simplicity of it forcing you to moan for him as he'd sought to take more from you.

your thighs press together hard, memory bursting till its coursing along every bit of skin. but you don't make to indulge him. testing the waters of this defiance. because he's obviously looking to stretch some authoritative muscle. "open, spread, be still", those the tender taste of his commands filling your mouth as he kissed you last night, and in your daze you complied swiftly. as eager as he'd said you did. the whole of him used to control. used to finely straddling lines of danger and succeeding well. what with his needles and their sharp, biting impressions. so no, you don't move, letting the thickness of the air settle deeper. playing at a naive rebellion done only by fragile little prey thought invincible. because this is it, isn't it? the thing that gets him going. sets his bones hot and fingers achy. 

it's a finger over licks of a fire, a push of the limit after already being burnt to a beautiful consumption. your brows pulling. hands palming your knees tight. "you bite". 

he smirks. bares teeth. steps calm to cover the distance. the patience of a wolf. "only upon request". 

his island chair is one that swivels. a short creak breaking as you turn to face him. laughing breathy, wry, shifting in place, searching for comfortability under the weight of his presence. his hard body slotting between your thighs. coffee on his tongue as he nears, mouth ghosting shy. his nose slipping at yours. a hard swallow in your throat as you feel him press in to wedge you against the chair and the island. "i never asked", a little docility to your voice. adverting your eyes, closing them, to refuse his own, another small performance. something refractory. his chest warm as you press forward into him. a hot hand running up along your back till its situating to cradle your nape. 

"you didn't oppose". 

his teeth sinking in to pull at your bottom lip. sharp enough for an abrupt wince. attempting to pry yourself from his grip, that palm at the base of your neck strong. corrective. short breaths huffing into his mouth as he kisses your lip. a light play at a remedy. the affection of it sweet and dotting enough that you rush in for more, much to his sudden displeasure. his throat humming, the confirmation of some long standing observation. the column of your neck warm from the run of his free thumb. that slip of a touch shivering you whole. hands gripping into the waist band of his shorts. knuckles aching. a terrible make at reprieve.

"being skittish is just a natural little condition of yours huh?" 

"no". your voice airy. feathered for him. 

"so just with me then?...", skimming his mouth at your cheek. a simple kiss to the apple of it. "...cause i can't really give you what you need when you're all excitable and eager like this...". another lingering kiss at the corner of your mouth. "...need some patience".

a near unbreathable daze forms about your head. eyes dim. the scent of him filling your nose till its blooming in your lungs. fingers curling and sweeping and releasing along his skin. at old tattoos and taut muscle. a pulse at the heart of your thighs that teeters your nerves on the verge of inconsolable. his fingers squeezing perfect at your neck. a purr of a moan in your mouth. "what else do i need?" 

his mouth slots for a full kiss, done up with breath and purpose. your palms holding firm at his waist for stability as he pulls you in. "a little direction". his tongue peaking to slip. a lazy lick at yours. your breath hitching at the wet curl of it. lips parting to receive. smirking as you whimper against him. "don't need you gettin distracted, then all of your attention gets eaten up by trivial little shit. you start making the real poor decisions then". 

"like pepsi logo tattoos...", you muse. "...and fucking your tattooist raw...", a languid, tongue filled kiss. air harsh through the nose to make up for the overtake of his mouth. the slipping noise of it lewd to the ears. makes your skin hot. hotter. urges erupting sure. a fragile hiss playing off your mouth, his teeth finding refuge over your lip again. a grunted moan hitting the air. his hands tucked under your knees, rushing to pull your thighs in, body at the edge of the island chair. you feed your tongue in again. eagerness unabated. "...you're not the first man with too many gray hairs trying to be my handler...", a snicker thats more like a scoff. a teasing tug at the waist band of his shorts again. making to release him but never getting to it. his mouth at your chin and your jaw, nipping and licking into your neck. "...i make your dick harder just a little more than all the others so now you want to manage me? make sure no one else is gettin in on this huh?..."

he digs into your leg. a harsh pinch that makes you jerk into him. "i'd only be offended if you didn't like me so much, didn't wanna fuck me so badly", his nose knocking into yours again. a bruising kiss by the firm pull of his lips. "something tells me you like a little correction...", a hand keeps your thigh cinched to him and the other releases your other leg to journey near the zipper of your jeans. "...being commended". 

his middle and ring fingers venture between. a faint circling where your jeans cover over the throb of your clit. the pace and patience of his touching and his mouth quaking your bones. irritated with an eagerness he seems to want to handle so insistently. 

his phone rings. 

you whine in protest. the slip away of him abrupt and emptying as he fishes for the phone. 

"relax", he muses. kissing the corner of your mouth. 

but he answers anyways. settles into the call so much till his brows pull. a focus that leads into that faithful disappointment of having to prioritize. green eyes casting over. taking stock of your face. his thumb soothing your lip, just where he'd bitten. 

the emptiness grows, occupying this shitty liminal space. and it only gets worse. the neediness he'd corralled snuffed out quick. something about "forgotten early appointments" and "taking you where you need to go". 

there are many valuable little notes to give to the self. an unwieldy feeling under the skin as you make to get your belongings. going about a terrible attempt of acting like he wasn't just about to give you a three-peat of last nights little fun. so close to feeling all of him just meticulously fed into you. 

the biggest note of all though. toughing your shoes on. annoyance playing unabashed. don't fuck your tattooist. 

[flowery-mess]

Midnights of October🍁🧡🎃

October 31st

Trick or treating with kids and celebrating Noah's birthday

warnings: Noah pictured as a dad, not edited lol

taglist: @concreteangel92 @sorrowsofsilence @lma1986 @stardustsirenmelody @dream-machine-love @mrsnoahsebastian (let me know if you want to be tagged or deleted!😊)

words: 1.6k

Modnights of October masterlist

*

„I’ll do my best Y/N.“ Nick said through the phone.

„Thank you, just let me know when he leaves your place.“

Milo and Thea asked you to do birthday surprise for Noah’s birthday and how could you say no to them. So you asked Nick and the boys to keep Noah entertained for the whole day on October 30th, so you and the kids can make cake and wrap presents for him.

“Mom how old is dad?” Thea asked you while you put her on the kitchen desk.

“He’ll be 29 tomorrow.”

“Wow he’s old.” You chuckled at that reaction.

“So, we’re making chocolate cake with number 29 on top made with strawberries, right?” you summoned the plan to your little helpers who nodded their heads at you.

“Remember it’s surprise Thea, you can’t tell dad.” Milo reminded Thea in the most ‘older brother’ way you could imagine. As an answer, Thea locked her mouth with imaginary key and then threw it away.

Thea was interested in the cake baking for whole 5 minutes, after that she occasionally came to steal strawberry or chocolate chip.

Milo was really helpful with mixing the ingredients and then decorating the cake. Thea then came with an idea to stick pictures of things Noah likes in the cake, so you had to print out a picture of Skye from Paw patrol (Thea made him say he likes her), you printed picture of Milo and Thea and then Milo said you should also print a picture of you, because Noah loves you.

When you were done you hid the cake in the storage fridge and went to clean the kitchen so Noah can’t see any evidence of chocolate.

“Cake done.” You said and ticked it off your paper. “Now let’s wrap presents for daddy.”

“Mom can I give daddy this plushie?” Thea asked you with the plush dinosaur in her hands. Mind you it’s not even hers, it’s Milo’s. She’s a literal threenager with her attitude of ‘I don’t give a shit’.

“That’s mine!” Milo says and takes it from her hands. Milo on the other hand is 5 years old, but acting at least twice his age. He’s very helpful and takes a lot after Noah. He’s taking his role of the man in the house very seriously when Noah is away. He always helps with cleaning the toys, he helps you carry some stuff from the grocery store and he plays with Thea. He also gives you the biggest hugs and cuddles, so you’re not sad while Noah is away.

You gave the kids a budget for Noah’s presents earlier in the week and took them to a shopping mall so they could choose what they want.

Milo chose a t-shirt with printed picture of all four of you. Thea chose a pink airplane pillow with cat ears and candy. Well at least it’s useful for Noah’s travels.

When everything was wrapped, you put it away so Noah couldn’t see it until tomorrow and then clean the mess you all made.

He just left. Text from Nick appeared on your screen just when you put the last presents under the kids bed.

-

The next morning you were woken up by four little legs running in your bedroom, then jumping in your bed and yelling “Happy birthday dad!”

“Oh wow, thank you.” Noah took them both to lay down with you, attacking them with kisses.

“Group hug.” Thea yelled in her little voice.

You and the kids laid on top of Noah and started singing him happy birthday song. Noah didn’t have a choice with celebrating his birthday since the kids got the concept of birthdays. They didn’t understand why someone wouldn’t want to eat cake and get presents, so Noah had to push through and he became more fond of it when he saw their faces lit up with joy when he was surprised from the gifts they got him.

After few minutes you send Thea and Milo to brush their teeth and change their clothes so you could have a moment with Noah.

“Happy birthday love.” You whispered one more time, brushing Noah’s nose with yours.

“Thank you.” He smiled back at you and grabbed your chin to pull you into a kiss.

“I hope you’re going to have fun today.” You laid your head on Noah’s chest.

“Who wouldn’t have fun dressed as Dipsy?” Noah’s answer was followed by laugh from both of you.

You’re going trick or treating with the kids later and wanted to have family costume and Thea came up with one. You’re going as Teletubbies, which is one of her latest favorite shows to watch.

You spent the next few minutes cuddling with Noah, enjoying the calm before the storm.

“Let’s feed our little monsters.”

-

“Dad you have to put the hat on.” Thea commanded Noah when you were ready to leave the house.

Thea and Milo had full on costumes of Laa Laa and Po, you and Noah got away with just green and purple t-shirts and hats with ornaments.

You planned on trick or treating in your neighbourhood and then meet at Matt’s house with everyone for a little Halloween gathering.

You’d start at your older neighbour’s house who would had a genuine laugh at your costumes, saying it’s a cute one and then take a lap around the whole neighbourhood.

“Okay everyone ready?” you asked after you closed the car door and looked over your shoulder to see if the kids were strapped in and had their buckets.

“Yes!” they yelled together.

-

At Matts house it was pure mess. Kids everywhere, fighting over who got more candy, candy wrappers on the floor.

Noah and the boys were making dinner outside while you talked with the other girls about kids or who’s coming with the boys on the next tour. You also had to take Thea’s candy bucket, because if she’d eat some more she would be impossible to put in bed later.

When the sun started to set Milo whispered in your ear “When are we going to celebrate daddy’s birthday?” and that was when you knew it was time to go home.

On the way back home your kids kept exchanging looks and mysterious laughs in the back seats.

“And what are you two up to huh?” Noah asked them, looking at them through the mirror.

“Nothing.” Thea said very trustworthy.

-

Back home you send kids to change into some comfy clothes while you and Noah put the costumes and candy away. Then you send Noah to put some movie on and get the living room ready for movie night.

You told Milo and Thea to get ready with their presents and went to get the cake.

“Shh Thea. We’re going to sing at the count of three, okay?” you looked at Milo and Thea for confirmation and started walking in the direction of the living room.

When you were about to reach the main room of your house you silently counted to three and then you all started singing.

Noah turned around with genuine surprise on his face. Thea started jumping around him while still singing, you and Milo standing still in front of him.

“Make a wish daddy!” Milo told Noah when he went to blow candles on the cake.

“What did you wish for daddy?” Thea asked, already eyeing the chocolate cake.

“That’s a secret, you’re not supposed to tell or it won’t happen.” Noah explained the point to Thea and picked her up. “What is this? A surprise birthday party? With all of you?” Noah asked looking at you.

“Yeah, I hope you didn’t think we would miss a celebration of your birthday?”

“Let’s have a cake then.” Noah kissed your forehead and led you to kitchen with his hand on your lower back.

After having sweet treat in the form of the cake you made with your little ones, you made Noah open the presents.

“Wow travel pillow, I wanted that!” In the case of Thea’s gift Noah didn’t have to act surprised, because he was, but also wasn’t, knowing his daughter.

“Oh Milo, that’s amazing! I’m going to take that on tour as well.” Noah’s eyes were full of love for his kids, looking at the t-shirt you helped Milo make, with the picture Bryan took of you just a few months ago.

“Last but not least.” Noah picked up box from you and opened it. He really saved the best for last, his eyes looking at you with slight hint of happy tears in them.

You got Noah custom made bracelet in silver, with three little silver plates and each of them has written name in its own handwriting. On the left is Milo’s, yours in the middle and Thea’s on the right.

“Thank you.” Was all Noah could get out before his voice would crack from holding the tears in. He gave kiss to all three of you and of course put everything on to show you how he fits everything you got him.

After the little party you all cuddled up on your couch and started the movie Noah chose, you and Noah on each side with Milo and Thea in between.

You felt Noah’s hand intertwining with yours with gentle squeeze, so you turned your head to look at him.

“Thank you,” he mouthed silently, “for everything.”

And he meant it, and you knew. He’s thankful for you, the kids, the house you two got yourselves, for time spent together just like today. He hates leaving you when he’s going on tour, but it also made him appreciate his little family more.

[gaybananabread]

How about Day 30 with Lee!Mystery Twins and Ler!Stan Twins (gravity falls) as a game of hide and seek! I think it’d be super cute!

TickleTober Day 30 - Caught

AAAAA I’M DONE WITH TICKLETOBER!! HAPPY HALLOWEEN! This was a fun way to cap off the event, tapping into my roots! I’m so tired, and it’s definitely gonna be nice to not write over 1k word fics daily. I absolutely adored the event though, it really challenged me as a writer! ANYways, sorry for blabbing on, and I hope everyone stays safe tonight and that you Enjoy!

Lees: Mabel, Dipper

Lers: Stan, Ford

Summary: The Pines family are having an "intense" game of Hide-and-Seek to determine who gets to decorate the Mystery Shack for Halloween. There's an interesting set of rules, with a ticklish twist for whoever gets caught.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

"Dipper, be quiet!"

Mabel whisper-shouted at her brother, sinking further into the pile of stuffed animals. It was the fiercest competition of the century, and she intended to win it.

What had her so determined, you ask? The annual Pines Hide-and-Seek Championship. Well, it was the first year they were doing it, but the technically-teen was going to make sure it carried on.

Downstairs, her Grunkles combed through the house, searching for their great-grand niece and nephew. The Grunkles had half an hour to find them. There was a twist the older men had added, just to make the game more fun. If caught, the kids would be tickled. They didn't really specify a time, figuring it would be best to play things by ear. 

The mystery twins gave no argument. They were determined to win, though the sweater-loving girl was definitely taking things more seriously. For Mabel, that's saying something.

Mabel, being serious? What was so great that she would forgo her usual silliness? Well, something she greatly desired; the winner, whoever they may be, got to dictate the Halloween decorations for the whole Mystery Shack. As long as it was within the budget, anything went.

She was determined to make it the most sparkly, retro, in-your-face crazy Halloween party ever. That meant she had to win. 

Stan rooted through cabinets, looked in couch cushions, even went as far as looking in the outskirts of the woods. He was putting off checking the attic, figuring the kids would be smarter than that. Mabel was always goofy, it wasn’t hard to think her hiding spot would be as well.

Using a gadget, Ford scanned the first floor of the Shack. It was supposed to detect the joy and wonder a child gave off, though he was pretty sure he calibrated something wrong. Still, he searched, hoping it would at least give him some edge. He didn’t want his home covered in glitter, or so scary that even the goat would have nightmares. If Dipper won…well, he wouldn’t actually mind that, but it was the principle of it.

Dipper was hiding up in the rafters, having used Mabel’s grappling hook to secure the spot. They hid together, figuring whoever got caught first could fend for themself. Mabel was rather proud of hers; it was simple enough that they probably wouldn’t look, yet small enough to where she could barely fit, to dissuade her Grunkles. It was pretty perfect.

After twenty minutes of fruitless searching, both old men went up the creaky attic stairs. The twins held their breath, knowing it would be moments before one of them was caught. The door opened, painfully slow, as the pair entered the make-shift bedroom. They could hear the end of Stan’s conversation as he peeked in the closet. “...it’s one of the only spots we haven’t checked, Sixer. One of them’s gotta be here.”

Ford entered a second later, checking under their beds. He was so close that Mabel went completely stiff, refusing to even blink before he stood up. “Those kids are good, I’ll give ‘em that. They’ve got your sneaky skills.” He got a pillow thrown at his head by a chuckling Stan. “Sure, sure. But they’ve got your smarts. I would’ve hid in a closet or somethin’.”

They were so nonchalant about the way they searched for the younger twins. It was like they thought it was a game. Well, everybody but Mabel thought it was.

Dipper looked at Stan, noticing how close he was getting to finding Mabel. He really didn't wanna be the first one caught, but he knew how badly his sister wanted to win. Sighing, he faked a cough, calling the attention of his Grunkles up. The things he did for her…

In seconds, two rough hands wrapped around his waist, yanking him down from his hiding place. “Gotcha!” Dipper barely had enough time to register that he was in Stan’s lap before five clawing fingers dug into his stomach. “G-GRUHUNKLE STAHAHAN!”

Ford chuckled, getting his fun in as well. He scribbled on and under the boy’s knees, all six digits doing something to get him laughing. It was unfairly ticklish. He almost regretted taking the L for Mabel. Almost.

“Hey Dippy, I got a deal for ya. If you tell us where your sister is, we’ll stop.” Oh, those cheaters! Mabel watched with wide eyes and Stan vibrated his clawing fingers into Dipper’s tum, keeping his arms above his head. She knew her brother had thrown his chance for her, but he still had to outlast the old men.

He wriggled and twisted in their arms, refusing to give in so easily; he wasn’t about to lose for nothing. “I- IHI CAHAHAN’T!” Ford snickered, squeezing his knees a bit more vigorously for emphasis. “Oh, but you can. Just say, ‘Oh, Mabel is hiding…’ and then you say it. It’s just that easy.”

So unfair… Dipper whined through his laughter, kicking as much as he could. Maybe a time limit on the tickles would have been a good idea… His Grunkles were obviously enjoying themselves, matching smirks on each of their faces. He didn’t hate it, per say, but it was much harder to stay sane when all three of them could see his reactions. 

It was…actually really nice of him to do that for her. Mabel would have to let Dipper DJ for the party. Waddles might be a little upset, but she was sure her pink companion would prefer snack table duty. 

Stan got a little impatient, deciding to be evil. He moved his bony fingers up to the boy’s armpit, digging into his hollows. Dipper let out a squeal that would put Waddles to shame. “NYAAAAHAHA! STAHAN! NOHO- *snrk* NOHOT THEHEHERE!”

Oooh, he went for Dipper’s bad spot. Mabel bit her lip as she watched her brother’s destruction: Ford teasing his knees while Stan went to town on his pits. She wouldn’t blame him if he gave her up, but dang it, she really wanted to win.

Right as Dipper was about to crack, the Nyan Cat theme song went off. Ford’s phone buzzed in his pocket, signaling that their half-hour was up. Mabel had won!

The girl sprung up from her mound of stuffed animals, startling both of her Grunkles. “HA! I won! Stan, go grab the basement key, I’m gonna make it rain glitter and gummy bears!”

Ford laughed, releasing Dipper’s legs as he watched his grand-niece celebrate. Stan sighed, setting the boy down on the carpet to curl into himself. “Okay, okay, ya won! Don’t need to rub it in, ya snot.”

 She chuckled, moving to hug her giggling brother. “Thanks for taking the loss, bro-bro. I officially crown you Head DJ.” He pumped a weak fist into the air, still giggling away the phantom sensations. Stan shooed her away, placing Dipper in his brother’s arms.

“You go get the dork some water. I’ll handle our winner.” Ford nodded, carrying the exhausted Dipper down the attic stairs. Stan cracked his knuckles before scooping Mabel up in his arms, holding her against his chest. “Congrats, ya snot. Here’s my favorite part of your reward…” 

He squeezed her side, making the sweater lover burst into bubbly giggles. She twisted and squirmed, eyes growing wide. “B-buhut Gruhuhunkle Stahan! Ihi wohohohon!”

He snorted, moving up to tease her ribs. “You did, yeah. Your brother got the worst of it; I’ll go a bit easier on ya. Congrats, you goober.” She whined, protests already forming on her tongue. “Thahat ihisn’t fahair! Sohore loser!”

Stan scratched and scribbled between each bone, acting as if it was just a normal conversation. “It’s totally fair. I don’t remember there being a rule against tickling the winner.” She scrunched up her nose, mock-glaring at him. “Thahat- youhu- uhuhugh!”  

It was adorable to see his relatives’ reactions. He loved to hear their laughs, see them smile, make them forget about the crazy lives they’d led for just a second. The whole “Weirdmageddon” fiasco had done a bit of damage. Stan took any chance he could get to make them feel like regular kids again. Dipper had already gotten his go; now it was Mabel’s turn.

“B-buhuhut- HEHEHEY! NOHOT THE PIHIHIHITS!” He poked her armpit, making the girl squeal. “It’s cute how you two share everything. Makes tickling the snot out of ya a whole lot easier.” It was gonna be a long day…

[helios-writings]

There are some days when Shanks feels bad about not being able to give you the life he thinks you deserve. Days where you and he barely see each other because the pair of you are working overtime. Days where the two of you sit at the table, stressed about what bills you can cover and what you’ll have to live without.

Others days, he knows, are better. Curled up in each others arms on your days off, the smell of breakfast cooking even though its two in the afternoon. Still, he’d always dreamed about giving you a life of luxury, about spoiling you and making sure you didn’t have to work another shitty job if you didn’t want to. He’s not quite there yet, but he hopes one day he will be.

The two of you are walking hand in hand through the richer shopping district, windowshopping in all the pricier stores that give him hives just thinking about stopping in, but he loves the way you smile as you envision how you would decorate the foyer of your fictional mansion with a giant gold and crystal chandelier.

He laughs, not at you, but at the absurdity of it. “What would we need with something like that, huh?”

You shrug. “Sometimes things are just nice to have.”

He’d buy you a million of those ugly things if it meant making you happy.

Instead, Shanks points to something else. “And where would you put this?”

“Our living room, right next to the giant comfy couch, so I can admire it while I sit next to you.”

The two of you carry on like this, until you find a cozy old antique shop buried inbetween two high end boutiques.

“Lets go in here.” He tells you, stopping you with a gentle tug on your hand.

“Antiques? I didn’t know you liked old stuff like that.”

“I had a crush on our high school math teacher, didn’t I?”

You roll your eyes. “And yet, you’re here with me.”

He elbows you playfully in the side. “Well, she couldn’t compare to you.”

You just laugh and head inside the store.

The inside smells like dust and the culmination of other peoples belongings, but he’s drawn to the jewelry shelf towards the entrance, whilst you wander off by yourself down one of the countless aisles. The shelf holds many pieces of jewelry, but what catches his eye is a pair of wedding rings, obviously on the older side, but the feeling hits him so fast, it feels like his heart has fallen to his feet.

Shanks had never thought about proposing to you. Not in a “terrified of marriage” way, but to him you already were. But, standing in that store, the need had never been more apparent, and the rings were within his budget. It felt like a sign from on high, even if you were the one who believed in signs like that.

You both left the store half an hour later, his wallet a bit lighter, but pocket heavier.

You make dinner that night, something simple, but delicious and Shanks, never one to second guess himself, jumps right in.

“I want to marry you.”

Your eyes widen as you nearly spit out your drink. “Wh-“

He pulls the rings out and continues. “I know you didn’t dream about living in a one bedroom apartment with shitty heating and cooling, and that you deserve better than I can give you, but I promise you that you’ll have it one day. Whatever you want, a big house, dogs or cats, a huge ugly gold and crystal chandelier in the foyer. I want to give that all to you.”

You take his hand in yours. “Shanks, baby, we may not live the life you think we deserve, but I live the life I want with you every day. I don’t care about any of that stuff, not really. So what if our heating breaks in the middle of winter? So what if I can’t have a big yard or house? I’d rather have you.”

He feels his eyes get a little misty and he turns away. “I’m not the one who’s supposed to be crying here.”

You roll your eyes and slip one of the rings on. “I’ll marry you.”

He kisses you deep, a grin on his face that won’t go away no matter how hard he tries.

The wedding takes place in a court house, costing no more than 120 dollars and the two of you wearing the nicest clothes you can afford, but its perfect and neither of you would dream of anything else, not when you have each other. This is the life you deserve, and he can give it to you after all.

[janesaridoll]

Birthday princess 

pairing || woc!reader x mob!ari levinson

genera || fluff.

summary || how’s Ari dealing with someone trying to disrespect his girl.

wordcount || 2,4K

Donate to my ko-fi!

A vicious man who will go to any length to make his sweetheart smile.

Growing up, Ari enjoyed his mother's elaborate celebrations, where everything had to be extravagantly flawless—whether they were birthday parties, wedding anniversaries, or charity events. He thinks his mother did all that to compensate for her husband, his father’s harsh reality.

He especially gets excited whenever his birthday is nearing, he loved when he was ten and he loves it now, almost thirty seven years old.

Even though, it's different from when he was younger, he still enjoyed it. However, the idea of someone not celebrating their milestone were awful to him, So when he found out his precious girl never celebrated her birthday he was horrified.

He couldn’t fathom that someone not celebrating their birthday especially someone as sweet as his girl.

Your birthday was never acknowledged by your parents. Not even a happy birthday was said. Although, your siblings celebrated theirs, no one ever seemed to remember yours.

As you got older, you just forget about it. You knew you missed something, but there was nothing you could do to persuade your parents to celebrate your birthday because they always had some excuse not to.

At first, you resisted Ari's insistence on throwing you a birthday party. Therefore, Ari did not celebrate your first birthday together as he had intended while you two were together. But of course he did do something to celebrate.

He took you to an upscale restaurant, after both of you finished eating, he gave you your gift; an elegant pair of earrings. That was the first time anyone had ever given you anything. You were appreciative, till this day you never taken them off.

The following year, when your birthday approached, Ari broached the subject once more, you told him you didn't care and that what you both did last year was enough yet Ari didn't think so. He wants to give you the experience of celebrating your birthday properly.

After much persuasion, you agreed to the birthday party, Ari got his mother's party planner number in order for you to contact her to plan your birthday, he didn’t set a budget for it; just told you to do what your heart desired.

"I want everything to go as smoothly as possible, Steve, I don't want anything to go wrong," Ari says as he sips from his brownish liquor.

"Of course, I'll tell Peter to oversee everything," you'd assume from the way they're both talking seriously in their black suits that it had to be about business. No, it's Ari's princess 24th birthday celebration. Which, if you think about it, is more important.

Ethan, your bodyguard and friend, is racing with with staff members making sure everything is perfect for your birthday, including the lights, decorations, DJ, food and drinks.

“She even got Ethan to do all the work” steve mumbled to Ari who let out a chuckle “I can’t believe he’s the toughest one of our men” He sips the rest of his drink before smiling to himself “wait for me in the werehouse” Steve only nodded.

He went upstairs to the guest bedroom where you had your makeup artist and hairstylist stay because Ari doesn't like it when people are in his room.

He stared at you from the doorway, completely captivated; the expression of happiness in your eyes brought happiness to him as well; he can't believe someone could be so cruel as to not love or spoil you in the way you deserve.

"Can you leave us for a minute?" As soon as he said it, the room quieted down, and your best friend, Nat, who you met through Ari's friends, spoke up, "sure, we will be outside," she patted your shoulder. She had already dressed in a black silk dress, done her makeup beautifully with smokey eyes and her signature red lipstick that matches her hair, she looks stunning.

"You look pretty," he began, staring at you from the mirror “you do, too," you said, turning around to face him.

He takes a step closer to you, as soon as he is within reach, you wrap your hand around his neck, drawing him closer to you, tilting your heads up to lock your gaze on him smiling lovingly.

"Ethan needs a day off tomorrow," when you noticed that the party planner were demanding you gave her Ethan's phone number so she could organize everything with him rather than you, you just told them what you want the theme of your party.

He initially objected, after all, he is the toughest man. But he agreed simply because he likes you and he wants you to have the nicest and most memorable birthday celebration ever.

"Sure, anything you want." Even Ari is taking a day off tomorrow, he wants to spend it with you while business is calm nowadays.

"You spoil me a lot," you said, kissing his jaw. He smiled “that's the least I could do for you. honey"

"Thank you, I love you too much." You kissed him again. "I love you too."

"I’m leaving for a bit; I've got a business to take care of, and I’ll be back before the party starts."

"Why?" You pout. Is he going to skip your birthday? You know it was stupid. You shouldn’t have agreed. Maybe your parents is right; it is a waste of time.

"They need me there; it won’t take too long, maybe an hour max," he told you while curdling your face between his large hands and kissing your lips softly.

“You promise?” You smiled softly at him.

"Absolutely,I wouldn’t miss it for the world” he replied, you kissed him again.

“I’ll leave you now to finish, honey."

“Okay be careful”

“Always”

He left, and the girls returned to do their tasks. Wanda followed Nat into the room; it appears that your friends are already showing up, so you should finish quickly.

“Hey! Nat told me you invited Ema?” Wanda said as soon as she’s stepped beside you, “hello to you too” you turned to her smiling.

“Im sorry babe” she kissed your cheek before continuing “is it true?”

“Yes, i thought it would be rude to invite all of our friend group except her!”

Nat spoke looking at Wanda “told you”

“Yep, she’s tooooo nice” Wanda replied.

“I don’t know, Ari is inviting his friends and business partners, his mom and sisters are coming as well as their friends, so I think it would be crowded and she won’t be a bother!”

“I hope so” Nat said before looking at Wanda who was fixing her red dress, adjusting her breasts “what are you doing?”

“I’m gonna go see Ethan, wish me luck” Wanda and Ethan has been flirting a lot lately, you know they would end up together it was just a matter of time.

Everyone has arrived an hour and a half later, including your friends, Ari's friends, and family. Nat helped you dressing up in your pink gown, you wore your jewelry as well. Wanda is working as your personal photographer; she took many photos of you before you had to go downstairs so the party could begin.

When the DJ announced your entrance, everyone's eyes turned to you, yelling and clapping, while your eyes scanned the the place looking for Ari.

As soon as your gaze latched on him, you smiled brightly, relaxing for a while before getting down and everyone began to approach you, wishing you a happy birthday.

You were quite apprehensive because it was the first time you had ever been the center of attention at any form of event.

Nat gave you a microphone so you could thank everyone who came to celebrate with you, and you specifically thanked Ari, none of this would happened if it weren’t for him. You wished them a good evening.

After you handed the DJ the microphone, you felt like you were being crushed in a hug by someone, and when you looked down, you discovered it was Ari's younger sister, Amara.

“Happy Birthday!!!!!” She said screaming a bit. You laughed before hugging her back.

“Stop squeezing my girl to death” Ari teased his sister before greeting his mom and his older sister Sadie.

When Amara separated from you Sadie hugged you, as well as his mother.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart; i loved the party theme!"

"Thank you, Mrs. Levinson," you respectfully said. The elder woman scoffs at you, "sweetheart, we've been through this a lot! Please call me Freya; you make me feel old."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'll start calling you Freya," you said hesitantly, knowing she had told you that several times but you always forgot. Your mother taught you to never address someone by their first name; instead, use Mr. or Mrs.

Sadie looked around “are we finally going to meet your family?”

Your communication with your family has diminished since you left for college; you text and call, but they don't reach out to you as frequently as you would want. It's what they've wanted ever since you were born. To forget all about you.

You gave them an invitation to your party, but they did not respond. And when you called they didn’t pick up, No surprise.

You didn’t tell Ari that, you didn’t want him to feel sorry for you. But he can see it in your face when his sister mentioned your family.

“Oh they’re busy, they couldn’t make it!” You hoped your excuse was believed and by the look they gave you they did.

After a small talk they left to join other people for dance and chatting.

Ari left you alone for a minute to talk with his friends while you drank and danced with your friends.

Hours later, it was time to cut the cake, two servants brought the cake to a table in front of you. Ari hand wrapped around your waist while your hand was on top of his, him and everyone else singing happy birthday for you.

"Make a wish!" Nat called for you, and everyone else joined her, you giggled before closing your eyes and making a wish.

After opening your eyes and blowing on the candle, everyone clapped and whistled for you.

"I want to show you something," Ari whispered in your ear. You turned around, looking into his eyes. "What?"

"Come with me," he said, taking your hand a bit further and directing you to the double massive doors, which opened immediately.

A Rolls-Royce Ghost in Champagne Rose pulled in, you could hear the stunned screams of the people surrounding you; you were as surprised as they were.

“Oh my god!!, you didn’t!!!” You looked between Ari and the car, Ethan stepped out of the car, passing the keys to Ari, who handed them to you.

“All yours baby” you jumped on him, hugging him firmly, thanking him constantly “I love you i love you i love you!!”

Nat and Wanda came close to you both “girl you have to take us for a ride!!”

“I can’t wait to show off my first car ever!!” You smiled big and jumped up and down while clapping.

Wanda smiled “let me take pictures of you with the car!” She took her phone out and you got beside the car posing while she took a couple of pictures of you.

You grabbed Ari hand wanting him in the pictures. He smiled before letting you posing him in whatever way you wanted.

If he could, he would have given you the entire world without asking, but for the time being, he will give you anything your heart desire.

Life has its own way of repaying you. While you spent the previous twenty-three years begging someone to spare you a glance, right now you could ask for anything and it wouldn’t be trouble to give.

From behind, an irritating loud noise was heard. "I told you that he is her sugar daddy!!" Everyone fell silent, wondering who it was.

Your smile faded slightly; you weren't a particularly confrontational person to begin with. People would walk all over you while you excused them. You were too kind and too afraid to ever react to anyone.

“Who said that?" Ari stated calmly yet furiously, everyone got quiet surprised at the person who is brave enough to insult Ari’s girl

Wanda and Nat exchanged knowing glances. Finally, Ema made a fool of herself in front of Ari.

They know Ari doesn't accept disrespect, especially to those who don't deserve it, and to disrespect his girl? Oh, she just dug up her grave.

“Ema did," Nat answered, unconcerned about your glares.

Ari doesn't want to ruin your first birthday celebration, but he can't let this individual get away with it.

When he observed a girl who appeared shaking with fear, everyone's gaze was drawn to her, he knew it was her, and he approached her moved in front of her eye sight, almost nothing can stand between them.

"There are two reasons for saying this; one is that you are jealous because no one has ever loved you enough to provide you with something you desired, or YOU don't deserve to be loved or cared for like i do with my girl, I believe the latter it is," he said as calm as he can be

He could hear Wanda and Nat laughing mockingly at her. Finally, someone standing up to this bitch.

“Get the fuck out of my house and don't ever think of disrespecting my girl; or the next time you won't have a tongue to talk with; are we clear?" She nodded so quickly

“Good," he said, motioning for two of his guards to accompany her out; Bucky pointed out for the DJ to play some music to keep the party going.

Wanda yelled “ oh my god i love this song”

Her and Nat went dancing on the dance floor, while everyone else seemed to have forgotten what had happened and continued to have fun.

"Are you alright, sweetheart?" Ari spoke to you in hushed tones.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you replied, smiling back. "Do you know this is the first time I've seen you in your mob mode?"

“Really??” Ari was taken aback, saying, "I hope I didn't scare you."

"You did not, thank you for standing up for me; I really thought inviting her to my party would make her nice to me," you said, "I didn't want to divide our group into two sides."

"Sometimes, honey, being nice to someone so low is not the solution; if they don't respect you, they have to go; it's either they do or they don't." His huge hands comforted you by moving circles behind your back.

You thought for a moment about what he said "Yeah, you're right"

You got closer to him, your lips almost touching, "do you want to take my new car for a ride?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

[thinkpink212]

The Thinkpink Guide To a Pretty Pink Soft Life - Setting the tone for 2024

Hello lovelies, we've entered November and have one more month to go before we officially reach 2024! This time last year I sat down and wrote out the goals I now have fully compleated through manifestation, dedication and persistance. I've been asked before how I did it, so here is how.

1. It is important to have the mindset of a believer. More importantly, you must be a believer in you. Belive that you can and will have everything you desire simply because you desire it. You are the univers expanding, creating and experiencing itsefl. Once you believe, as well as trust in your abilities, vision(s) and start honoring yourself - You will become who you want to be (which is who you already are, just not yet)

Once your mindset is shifted, you need to get down to the specifics.

2. The Four Seasons - Work with nature, never against her. One of the reasons why I felt so sucessfull achieving my goals were the way they were divided. I had 3 major and minor goals for the whole year. These goals were centered around what would further me towards the life I wanted, with the seasons in mind divided into 4 phases. I wanted to factor in changing weather, possible shifting mood's, hollidays and much more to avoid any distraction or change of plans due to seaosn.

Examples

A. Major Goal was to graduate Massage School -> Lead to more financial abundance, freedome due to being more in control of my schedule etc. This had a deadline as school had a start and an end. It required dedication for studying, funds, and also for me to find a job afterwards. Took 8 months and three weeks exactly. B. Minor Goal Finish decorating my bedroom, in the home I had manifested -> Led to a safe, comfortable and tranquil enviorment that was costumized to my liking and need. Boosted my mood, as I had a sanctuary. This had no deadline, so it felt like a fun activity where it required funds, patience and selectivness. Took me 11 months to get 85% of what I wanted for my room. It is considered acomplished even though I may add more in the future, C. Summer is a time we want to let loose, have fun and be outside, so my goal of writing everyday felt easy enough untill the sun was calling my name everyday to go enjoy it. So, I implimented writing 30min daily, where any 30min not spend would be allocated to days were I did not have plans within that same week. Once I had to write for 3 hours (which I did) but never again did I skip my 30min. Most of it occured during late evenings as it was when I was already back home, few distractions and so on. - A habit I created was writing on public transport. The 13min back and forth was no longer spend scrolling but instead editing, writing, brainstorming etc.

3. Be selective and prepare for temporary sacrafices. Being real with yourself to choose what you truly want to dedicate the whole year to is crucial for a great year. Sometimes what we want can be stacked/combined. The more selective you are with your goals, and your words, the less things you put on your Goals list and can potentially transfer those to your Phase overview. put on your overall list of achievments. And be prepared to sacrafice time, habits and other pleasures that need to be paused for you to get to where you need to be.

Example; Major Goal 1 -> to become Financial Stable Phase 1 (January through March) -> Start Education / Courses that will alloow higher earning. -> Get a side husstle or main job earning x amount. -> Stay on budget of x amount weekly/monthly

4. Remind yourself of who tf you are Staying on track is easy while the spark is there, but after a few weeks, months, maybe even a season, sometimes that spark can start to seem like a tiny flame in the dark. Remind yourself of who you are becoming through moodboard, playlists, friends you trust who you can openly talk about your moves without fear of evil-eyes. Staying motivated is important as that is your fuel, so do what you need to keep your eyes on the prize. I personally made a pinterest board for each month, made sure to change my background to the focal of the Phase I was in, listen to the same three playlists whenever I got down. Journaling And I had an amazing tight circle of friends I would talk to about my moves.

5. Faileur is not a word you know - Rejection is redirection I do not recognize faileur, instead, I see it as the universes way to tell you you've chosen the wrong brick path and need to go left or right instead. So get up, dust yourself off and get to it. Sometimes life happens, so remind yourself that you can call it, go to bed and try again tomorrow. And I would like to emphesis on the fact that you do not have to start in January. You can rest then and start during the Astrological New Year (Aries season) and move in allignment with the Astral Plain rather then our sociatal concept of time. Just never give up, regroup and redirect.

Lastly, if you find yourself done before the year is over (like myself), spend that time further enjoying the fruits of your labor and give yourself a round of applause. Never forget that all is possible, you are a creator so create your reality even if it takes a little elbowgreese till you get the hang of it!

Goodluck to you all <3

[farfromsugafanfic]

Hiii, May i request Stray Kids reactions to you asking them to move in with you please 🥺🫶🏼

SKZ Reaction To You Asking Them To Move In With You

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: Thanks for the request! I know getting the requests (and content in general) has been slow lately and I appreciate y'all for bearing with me. Also, Happy New Year!

Chan:

This man is going to be ECSTATIC when you ask him to move in with him. He has honestly been waiting for this day. With that said, if he is still living in the dorm full time when you ask him, he will still continue to live there part time, especially during long weeks since it is nearer to work and allows him to collaborate with the members better.

But, he will come home to you as much as possible. While he is normally a very organized person, he will get a bit excited and start sending you apartment listings without important features you would've talked about (such as if they don't allow pets, outside your budget, etc.). Don't worry, he'll calm down after a few days lol.

Minho:

Honestly, Minho will be pretty chill as long as you agree to having cats and are okay with his crazy schedule. He will low key wonder what took so long. Minho will also be so helpful when you're actually moving by carrying all of the heavy things and making sure you remember to take a break and eat.

He will be secretly touched that you want to take this step with him and will probably express it in some way you will only realize later. I also wouldn't be surprised if he ends up convincing you to let him pay the majority of the rent, or even all of it.

Changbin:

Will immediately do two things: 1). Act cute 2). Be surprised. No matter how long you have been with Changbin or how stable your relationship is, these sorts of gestures that indicate an evolution in the relationship will always shock him.

While Changbin's Leo sun makes him outwardly confident, he secretly hides a lot of insecurity and uncertainty. So, when you ask him to move in, and once he realizes you're serious, he'll pull you off the ground and into a hug. On move in day, he definitely wears a tank top just to tease you.

Hyunjin:

I imagine it will happen fairly casually and Hyunjin will be shy and cute as he says yes. I mean, he sorta already lives with you anyway based on how much time he already spends at your place. Will shyly ask for a space so he can paint and is SO happy when you say yes. He isn't used to living with anyone other than the members or his parents, so when you easily let him have an extra bedroom for his art, he thinks this is the best thing he's ever done.

Despite being an introvert, he seems like the type to throw a house warming party once the apartment is immaculately decorated with his and other's art. Also, he will have to introduce Kkami to space, of course.

Jisung:

Like Changbin, he's a little shocked, but eager to accept. Ngl, he does get a little anxious when he considers how he will work with the members and definitely wants a place close to the current dorm so that he can maintain a good work/life balance.

However, once you actually get a place and moved in, he is going to be so happy. Will stay up all night with you just so he can enjoy spending time with you in a space that is just for you two.

Felix:

Felix may ask before you get the chance. He can't imagine anything better than getting to live with you. Like Hyunjin, he will also take decorating the apartment extremely seriously. You probably won't even need to lift a finger in that regard.

He does feel a bit weird without the members at first and will go back to the dorm on nights you're out of town. Felix will also always come home to you at night, even if it's late.

Seungmin:

You decide to broach the subject with Seungmin gradually. It's not that you're afraid he will say no, he just tends to take these sorts of things seriously and would probably want to be the one to ask. Still, you begin hinting that your lease is ending a few months before it actually does. When you finally ask, there is little hesitation. In fact, he took your hints so well, he already has a list of apartments saved.

That said, Seungmin will insist on making the deposit and buying any new furniture. It's not that he doesn't respect that you make your own money and enough to make occasional big purchases, but it just makes the most sense from his point of view.

Jeongin:

Jeongin may be among the most hesitant to move in with you. It's not exactly that he doesn't want to, it's just that he will definitely miss the members. Still, when he agrees and you start making plans, he will become excited.

He's another budding interior designer and will spend literally hours picking out everything from the right color of curtains to the perfect bedspread. Once you get moved in, he realizes his worries were baseless as he actually enjoys the quiet and getting to see you as soon as he wakes up.

[valeriele3]

Fever Dream

Multiple Fandoms x GN!Reader Characters: Mao Isara, Trey Clover, Kaedehara Kazuha, Shikanoin Heizou, Ritsu Sakuma Warnings: Besides cringe and bad grammar, nothing

This is currently incomplete and only contains Mao! I will edit in the other parts when it releases. I’m so sorry for the wrong tags

There you lay on your bed, tired and quite clearly sick.

You felt utterly terrible, but it'll all go away with a bit of sleep, right?

And so, that's what you did. You close your eyes and let the oncoming sleepiness take you to dreamland.

While sleeping, you sense a figure looming over you.

Which you would normally ignore had you been staying at your parents' house, but guess what? You weren't there right now. You were currently staying at your apartment, which you certainly didn't share with anyone.

Quickly stirring awake, you grab the lapel of the intruder's clothes, put your arm near the armpit, and throw them over.

You were about to bash their head in with the nearby book you had, but you paused when you heard them groan in pain.

'That voice sounds familiar..' you thought, and upon looking much closer to the intruder, you see Mao Isara on the ground.

Hold up, MAO ISARA?!?! THAT MAO ISARA?!?

That didn't make any sense; Mao wasn't real; he's a fictional character!

'What if he's a robber in a cosplay!?' The thought was absurd, but hey, the current situation itself was absurd.

You were pulled away from your thoughts by the sudden voice that entered the space.

"Oww..What'd you hit me for..? That hurt" The robber cosplayer mumbled

You observed the man once more and finally noticed how your surroundings were different.

This room wasn't your bedroom; hell, this place wasn't even your apartment!

So that means that this intruder didn't just invade your home but also kidnapped you while you were asleep!

"-ello? Y/N? Are you alright?"

"You aren't sick, are you?" The man puts the back of his palm to your forehead.

"Geez! You're burning up! C'mon, let's get you to your room." The man hurriedly ushers you to what you now presume to be your bedroom.

Why did you just let the man basically drag you to your "bedroom" without putting up a fight? You honestly don't know yourself, but what you do know is that you're feeling ill. Very ill

After laying you down, the man rushed to get some medicine and, apparently, soup.

Hearing the bedroom door shut seemed to shake you out of your stupor.

You then begin to assess the situation.

'Alright, so the last thing I remember doing is falling asleep in bed. Then I suddenly awoke in this mysterious house. apartment? dorm? and, uh, a weird kidnapper who likes to cosplay."

‘I could probably escape through the window, but seeing how high up this place is, I would definitely break my legs, which isn’t ideal if I want to escape. The front door is out of the question too; I don’t even know the layout of this place, and it could be locked, hello neighbor basement door style.”

After realizing that you were basically not figuring anything out, you decide to look around the room.

The bedside table had a lamp, a clock, a picture frame, and a tumbler filled with cold water inside.

The walls were painted in f/c, and the decor was something you had only dreamt of having. Things that you wanted to buy but couldn't because of your budget.

'Let's see... a closet full of clothes that are quite fashionable, if I do say so myself." These clothes were definitely your size and fit your personal tastes. It seems the kidnapper did his research.

'Wait a minute. Did I just see a picture frame earlier? 'You quickly look around the room once more until your eyes land on the frame placed atop the bedside table.

You quickly grab it, and to your surprise, there in the frame was a picture of you with Ritsu Sakuma and Mao Isara. Two of your favorite characters in the game Ensemble Stars

Hooray! It looks like you got isekai’d in an alternate universe where you live in the Enstars world.

A knock on the door catches your attention.

It seems that Mao finished making the soup.

“Ahem..Come in! ”

The door swings open, revealing the maroon-haired man holding a bowl of soup, a glass of water, and a pack of medicine.

“Here. Eat it while it’s still hot.” He places the items on your nightstand.

Still refusing to believe you got isekai’d in the Enstars world..you suspiciously look at the soup.

“Why’re you just staring at it? ”

“C’mere, sit.” He forces you to sit on the bed and grabs your ✨✨epic gamer chair✨✨.

He grabs the spoon and scoops out some soup, then blows on it to cool it down.

He then puts the spoon near your lips, signaling you to open them.

It seems that Mao Isara will be spoon-feeding you today. That’s one thing you never expected to happen.

“I’m not hungry, I—” Like a cliche scene in some drama or anime, your stomach growls, betraying what you had just said.

“Pfft.” He struggles to stop his laughter, but it soon fails, leading him to burst out in laughter.

He scoops some up again, cools it down, and puts it on your lips. This time, you allow yourself to open your mouth and swallow the soup.

He chuckles,

“What? Why’re you laughing?? ”

“It’s just... it really boosts my confidence whenever you eat my cooking, y’know? That sparkle in your eyes tells me that you enjoy it.”

“W-Well, it is delicious..So..ugh..just feed me more, please..I’m hungry.”

Mao chuckles, “Alright~ say ahh~”

You close your eyes and open your mouth

When you reopen them again, instead of “your room” and Mao in front of you you’re greeted with the sight of Trey Clover spoon feeding you

“Hm? What’s wrong? Is it still too hot?” He blows on the soup before attempting to spoon feed it to you again

“T-Trey?!!”

“Yes?”

“You’re Trey, like..Trey Clover!?”

“Uhm, yes, that’s me. Trey Clover” He seems surprised by your sudden change of..Mood? You assume

Part 1 ends here! Other parts will hopefully be released soon <3

.ೃ࿐Reblogs are highly appreciated! ^^

[stargazer-sims]

Tatsu’s Terrible New House

There you go, Tatsuhiro. You’re all moved into your new house.

Tatsu: Thanks. I hate it.

What’s wrong with it?

Tatsu: Oh, let’s see now. How about… everything? Well, everything except for that water thing out front. I like that.

This is a perfectly good house. There’s plenty to like besides the water feature.

Tatsu: Sure, if you’re into something that looks like the interior design equivalent of Agnes Crumplebottom and Bella Goth’s science baby. Like, have you even seen that hideous bathroom? I mean, if you’re gonna have a black bathroom, it should be as black as the inside of a vampire’s coffin, not with all those flowers and weird decorative shit.

Are you done?

Tatsu: No, I’m not done. I don’t suppose you’re aware that the entire upstairs is nothing but empty rooms? Some of them have nothing but drywall. There isn’t even a bed! It’s lucky that I’ve got a sleeping bag in my inventory, ‘cause otherwise we might have a problem.

Anything else?

Tatsu: I paid a lot of simoleons for this place. I expected better. I may have to make a complaint.

To whom, exactly? I’m the Watcher. There’s nobody higher up than me.

Tatsu: Fine. Then I’ll post it all over Social Bunny so everyone will know what a crappy job you’re doing.

I’ll tell you what. Why don’t we decorate the place exactly how you want it? You can be in charge, and I’ll even do ‘motherlode’ for you so you won’t have to spend your hard-earned simoleons.

Tatsu: You mean like, an unlimited budget?

Yes.

Tatsu: Can we access the hidden and locked objects too?

Sure, why not?

Tatsu: All right. I guess I can get behind that.

We have a deal, then.

Tatsu: Okay, first things first. I need a bedroom, and I want it to be spooky and intimidating. Lots of purple and black, and I need a lot of candles too.

Okay. I’m not even going to ask why you want that.

Tatsu: Good call. Can you also— No, wait… on second thought, can we get rid of that floral wallpaper in the bathroom first? I’ll sleep on the floor for one night if I have to, if it means I can get up to pee in the middle of the night without my bathroom walls giving me nightmares.

…

[xiaojunsmintchoco]

Love Note — Johnny Suh

pairing: best friend johnny x reader

genre: fluff, best friends to lovers, roommates au

synopsis: despite having been best friends for the longest time, both you and Johnny pick up a new habit of leaving little notes for each other when you move in together. How does that blur the lines between best friends and lover for you both?

wc: 6k of (poorly-written) fluff

a/n: this is a gift for @sehunniepotwrites! Nikki, I hope you enjoy this fic (though it was wasn’t very well written imo :”) and that it brightens your Christmas for you! thank you so much for being such a cool mutual to talk to, though we’ve only known each other for a short while, I’ve really enjoyed our conversations! Stay safe and have a wonderful holiday!

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥

“Dude, you good?” Johnny looks over to you with a concerned expression as he hears the sigh coming from you. 

“No,” you groan, scrolling through your phone as you look at the rental prices for apartments near university. “Looking at how rental prices are all sky-high, there’s no way I’ll be able to rent an apartment”. 

“I would normally suggest staying at home, but if I were you I wouldn’t wanna make a one hour commute to school every day, especially with the amount of work we’re gonna have too,” Johnny muses. 

You shoot your best friend a playful glare. “Gee, thanks for reminding me of that, John”. 

He merely chuckles as he watches you continue looking for reasonably-priced apartments, but all of them seem like they’d drain more of your budget than you’d like. “Say, what if we both rent an apartment together? Then we can both split rent, and it should be more affordable for us, right?” Johnny suggests. “I mean, I’d like an apartment near university too. Like you, I wouldn’t wanna waste two hours travelling to and from school in total”. 

Your eyes light up at your best friend’s suggestion. “You’re a genius!” you exclaim, his idea already appealing to you. With anyone else you didn’t know too well you would’ve been hesitant, but hey, this was your best friend you were talking about, which would be easier than having to move in with a complete stranger. In that moment, you thank the heavens that Johnny had decided to apply to the same university as you and gotten accepted as well. 

“Of course I am”. Johnny scoffs in return, earning him an eye roll and a light smack across the shoulder.

“Whatever, Mr Self Proclaimed Genius. I’ll send you the apartment listings, you can look through them, and then we can make a decision together”.

Johnny hums as his phone dings with the text notification from you. “Yep, that’s good,” he agrees, opening the link you sent and skimming through the list of possible apartments you both could rent. Before you know it, you’ve both settled on a decent apartment. 

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥ ⋆

“YES! I can’t believe we actually got the apartment!” you cheer as you take the key and waltz into the new apartment. Johnny laughs at your antics, but lets himself into the apartment as well. It was quite a homey one, with a brown wooden floor and white walls. A comfy-looking sofa sat in front of a round coffee table and a television, and in the dining hall, you were greeted by a rectangular dining table, decorated with a glass vase of artificial flowers, as well as the fridge next to it. Talk about value for money. 

“Let’s go check out the rooms, shall we? Then we can pick the rooms that we want,” Johnny suggests. You agree, and both of you hurtle up the stairs, eager to look at the bedrooms. Turns out, both of the rooms have the same basic design — single size bed, a bedside table with three drawers and a lamp, plus a large enough wardrobe for you both to use. How you both still manage to argue (jokingly) over which room you both want — no one will ever know, but you both attributed it to your “best friend chemistry”. 

“Why are you so insistent on taking the room on the left? They’re both the same!” Johnny argues.

“Nah man, the one on the left has a nicer view from the window, so I want that one!” you declare. “Then why do you want the one on the left so badly, since in your words, ‘they’re both the same’?”

“The colour of the wardrobe in that room is nicer! The brown is warmer,” Johnny. claims, not backing down. 

“Psh, over that?” you snicker. This argument wasn’t going anywhere. 

You both decide the rooms based on a game of “scissors, paper, stone”, which resulted in you winning and getting the room on the left, and Johnny crumpled on the floor in defeat, being the dramatic best friend you’d known for all this while.

After moving into your desired rooms and unpacking, you both discuss roommate duties over an Indian takeout lunch. “I think that the cleanliness of our own rooms as well as laundry should be our own individual responsibilities,” Johnny begins. 

You nod, agreeing with your friend. “For the other stuff, what about a weekly rotation? This week I can do cooking, while you do dishes. But for the other stuff…”

“We’ll split it,” Johnny decides. “So this week maybe you can sweep the floor and empty the trash, and I’ll clean the bathroom and do mopping? Maybe I should do groceries too, since you’re cooking already. So what do you think, Your Highness?” he finishes with a mock bow to you, waiting for your approval. 

You laugh at the title he gave to you at the end, but approve of his suggestions. “Sure! I’ll write them all down on a piece of paper, then we can use one of those fridge magnets to put this on the fridge”.

And that commenced your experience of living with one of your all-time best friends. 

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥ ⋆

“Yo bro, I just got a sick idea”.

You look up from your breakfast of toast with butter and coconut jam (Johnny had gotten lazy that morning and just made plain toast), and raise an eyebrow at the boy in front of you. He’s currently scrolling through his phone, seemingly engrossed in something. “And that is…?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow up while trying to hide the suspicion creeping into your voice. 

Unfortunately, Johnny knew you too well, and knew you had your reservations already. “Don’t worry man! I was just thinking, we could get Ikea desks for our rooms and assemble them together, since our rooms don’t have desks,” he mumbles through a mouthful of his own toast — topped with honey and butter. 

Alarm bells go off in your head immediately, alerting you that your friend’s “sick idea” probably might not be that great. “I don’t know, man…we’re like bulls in a china shop. What makes you think we can assemble a desk, let alone two desks?” you question.

“C’mon, it’s just like, Ikea DIY. How hard could it be?” Johnny argues. 

“Why not just get desks that have already been assembled?” you suggest. 

“Nah, if we were to get DIY desks that’d be cheaper, because we’re assembling it ourselves instead of the people in the factory,” Johnny reasons. 

“I’m not sure about this…” 

And so begins another round of the playful arguments you’ve both gotten used to since the beginning of your friendship, which Johnny won — partly because you gave in, since you knew he wouldn’t let up and you’d both be late for your first classes if the argument didn’t end somewhere. 

Now both of you are left squinting at the instruction manual of the first Ikea desk, while blindly screwing parts together. 

“Dude, watch it, it’s gonna — agh!” Johnny’s panicked yell makes you jump and drop the instruction manual, which you were previously poring over for the umpteenth time before the desk collapsed, missing you by a hair’s breadth. 

“What the heck, bro!” you exclaim, jaw still seemingly glued to the floor from shock.

“I’m sorry,” Johnny apologises, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. “Gosh, I didn’t know Ikea furniture was this hard to put together”.

“Yeah, who was the one who said ‘C’mon, it’s just like, Ikea DIY?’” you snort, reminding him of his words over breakfast earlier in the week.

“Shut up,” he groans. “I’m starting to wish I could eat my words. Nevermind, let’s do this again. What do the instructions say again?”

“So first, we’ve gotta find this wooden board. Then, we put four screws into it…” 

It takes about two more hours, and multiple glasses of ice-cold coke zero, but you both finally finish putting together the first desk. “Now that’s what I call a true masterpiece!” Johnny declares, stepping back from the completed desk and dramatically dusting off his hands. “Dude, we’re basically ready for marriage now that we can assemble Ikea furniture without killing each other in the process,” he jokes, swirling the ice cubes in his glass.

Having been his friend for years, you’re used to him making such jokes, so you don’t expect the wave of butterflies that sweeps over you when those words reach your ears. However, you brush it off and lightly smack his shoulder. “Don’t speak so fast — you almost let the desk collapse on me! Besides, we’ve got one more desk to assemble,” you remind, pointing at the second heap of wooden boards and metal frames laid on the floor in front of you.

“Oh, dammit”.

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥ ⋆

One thing that sets you and Johnny aside from other roommates could be your habit of leaving little notes for each other on the fridge. Be it to update the other on location, remind the other about undone chores, or ask the other to pick something up from the store, every day, without fail, the fridge would be filled with these little notes — it had become a personal bulletin board of sorts for the two of you.

How it started? After this one day, when you came home in a state of awful stress due to the sheer amount of work your professors had loaded on you, and your dead phone wasn’t helping your situation. Thus, you decide to simply rip a piece of paper off a notepad, and scribble out a note for Johnny to let him know where to find you, before sticking it to the fridge with a magnet. 

I’m at home, just in my room. Very busy today. As soon as Johnny gets home, your note on the fridge catches his attention when he walks into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of milk, and he decides to check on you.

No sooner than two seconds after he knocked the door came your tiny reply of “come in”. “Dude, what’s that awful smell-“ Johnny begins as soon as he enters. The sight that greets him is you seated at your desk with your hoodie up, staring at your computer with your palms cupping your face. Beside you is an unfinished venti cup of iced coffee, and your favourite cinnamon scented candle — the culprit behind that “awful smell”. He knew the scented candle was something you used in order to destress, so all of those things signalled to him that you were having a less-than-ideal time. “Hey, you good?” Johnny asks, making his way over and plopping in the chair beside you, noting the way your eyebrows were furrowed and your eyes were glazed over with a downcast expression. 

“Yes, all is fine and dandy. Totally don’t have an eight-page essay due tomorrow and biology and math tests the whole of next week that I haven’t studied for”. With sarcasm dripping from your tone, you make your predicament known to Johnny. 

“Ouch. That’s rough,” Johnny hums, looking over at your computer screen as he racks his brain for ways to help you. That’s when he realises that the essay topic you’re on is very similar to one he’s done before. “Hey, I actually did this essay last semester. Would you like to read mine? Maybe you can refer to it to help you with your own,” he suggests. “I mean, you could even use it and just change a few sentences. Doubt the professor would notice”.

You turn to properly face him this time. “Really?”

“Yeah, it’s no problem. I can just email you the document,” Johnny adds. "After this, I can study math with you and help you. Sorry I can't help with biology, since I don't take it". 

“Oh my goodness, LIFESAVER! Thank you so much John!” you exclaim, the relief visible on your face as your features relaxed into a grateful smile. You really were thankful to your friend — if not for him, you’d still be stuck on the third page of your essay, not knowing how to go on. 

“No problem, y/n. Just helping you out,” he answers with a grin. “What about after all your tests finish next week, we do something to relax?” he suggests. “My own tests finish then too”.

“Sounds good!” you reply.

Which is how both of you end up on the couch with Johnny, legs tangled up in a pile of blankets, savouring the delicious pizza you both ordered and laughing over what could well be your hundredth episode of Brooklyn-99, glad that the hectic semester was going to end before you knew it. 

It was in times like these, your best friend’s presence brought you a warm sense of comfort, like warm peppermint tea in stormy weather. Somehow, with him, the world seemed much less overwhelming and easier to take on.

What you didn’t know was, Johnny felt the exact same way about you. 

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥ ⋆

Rain poured and lightning flashed angrily in the gloomy skies outside the window — but even that could not compare to the storm in your heart. To say you were frantic with worry would be an understatement. Walking over to the fridge, you re-read the note that he’d left on the fridge for you.

I’ve got basketball practice today, so I’ll be home at about 4 pm today. 

It’s now 5: 30 pm — one and a half hours past the time stated on the note. The fact that he wasn’t picking up your calls too wasn’t helping. 

Just as you think you’re about to lose your mind, the jangling of keys in the lock forces you to snap your head in the direction of the door, which opens to reveal none other than Johnny. He’s soaked to the bone, clothes uncomfortably clinging to every inch of him, bag slung over his shoulder. “Johnny! What happened, why were you not picking up my calls?” a flurry of questions tumbles out of your mouth as you hurry to take his bag from him and pass him a towel to dry himself with.

“Sorry, y/n. Practice was extended by more than an hour, and I forgot my umbrella,” he sighs as he gratefully accepts the towel from you and begins drying his hair. 

“My goodness, John. To think that was the first thing I reminded you to bring today,” you reply, facepalming at your friend’s absentmindedness. “Quick, go take a bath — I don’t want you to fall sick,” you add, and he complies.

Unfortunately, the damage had been done. The next morning, you wake up to this note on the fridge: Now sicko, so I’m stuck in my room. Don’t worry about me though, lel.

Johnny was now curled up under the covers, running a temperature and nose running like a tap. As his roommate and best friend, you took it upon yourself to take care of him. 

That afternoon as soon as you get home, you prepare some soup and rice for Johnny, and portion them into bowls. Setting both bowls onto a tray, you carry the tray to Johnny’s room before knocking on the door, entering when you hear a weak “come in”.

“Johnny, wake up and have something to eat before taking your medicine,” you say as you set the tray down on his bedside table. 

“Mmph, wanna sleep,” he mumbles, laying his head back down on the pillow and shutting his eyes again. 

“Eat lunch first, then you can sleep all you want,” you assert, gentle but firm. “It’s lotus root and pork rib soup with pumpkin rice, so you should be able to get it down with no problem”. He obliges, and you prop a pillow up against his headboard so that he can sit comfortably. 

“Mm, delicious,” Johnny comments, slurping up a spoonful of soup and taking a mouthful of the rice. “Thanks, y/n”.

“Anytime, Johnny. I know you’d do the same for me”. His voice, though now coarse and raspy due to sickness, still carried the same familiar warmth you’d grown so fond of throughout friendship. Your heart fluttered and pounded at his words — which you realised was now becoming a far too common occurrence. 

You sit beside him as he eats, silence being the only thing audible apart from Johnny’s slurping and chewing sounds. “You know, y/n,” he suddenly says, breaking the silence. 

“What?”

“The way you’ve been taking care of me the past few days…it gives me ‘wife vibes’,” he remarks as you give him his medicine. 

“Elaborate, please,” you request, hiding your surprise at his comment.

"I mean…look, cooking for me, making sure I take my medicine, checking on me whenever you can…is that not what a wife does?" he reasons, gulping down some water. “Also, the way you blew up my phone with calls when I was late from basketball practice, that’s something a worried wife would do”. 

“Psh,” you scoff, rolling your eyes good-naturedly. “I’m just looking out for you as any good roommate would do. Besides, funny you say that — none of my friends think I give off wife vibes or mum vibes, even”.

Johnny raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah, to them I give off joker vibes and clown vibes,” you explain with a laugh. 

“I didn’t know”. Johnny says, surprise evident on his face. His expression quickly morphs into a smirk, though. “Then I should count myself lucky, since I’m the only one among our friends that have seen this ‘wife’ side of you. Trust me, your future spouse is gonna be very very lucky”. 

You simply chuckle, picking up his dishes and scurrying into the kitchen to put them away in the sink in an attempt to hide the blush on your cheeks that had darkened one or two shades. He thinks I’d make a good wife! Inside, you’re screaming with joy as you walk back to his room with a fresh glass of water, and put it on his bedside table. “I’d light you one of my favourite scented candles, but I know you hate it,” you remark, and both of you share a laugh as you remember how he nearly gagged the first time he came in and smelt the cinnamon scented candle. “Rest well, Johnny”. You exit his room and quietly shut the door.

As you’re leaving his room, something clicks inside of you: maybe, just maybe, you were developing a crush on your roommate and best friend.

And maybe it had started way earlier than you thought. But you felt it was best to keep your feelings under wraps, lest you jeopardize your precious friendship.

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Johnny finds himself startled by your shrill scream one fine afternoon, and worried that you got hurt, he rushes out of his room and into the kitchen to check on you. "Y/n, what happened? Are you hurt?"

His eyes follow the direction your trembling finger is pointing at, and his gaze lands on a brown, oval-shaped object, with two antennae and six hairy, formidable-looking legs. "C-cockroach!" you stammer, shivering like a winter leaf. Cockroaches were one of your worst fears, and Johnny knew that well. 

Sighing, Johnny puts his hands on your shoulders and leads you out of the kitchen. "Stay outside, I'll deal with this piece of shit," he instructs, walking off to grab the can of insecticide in the storeroom. You watch from behind the kitchen door as he sprays relentlessly at the creepy-crawly, until it turns turtle and breathes its last. "Get me a tissue," he requests, and you comply. Picking the cockroach up with the tissue, he flings it into the bin and then cleans up the areas where he sprayed the insecticide. "This-is-J-S-95. Enemy-has-been-neutralized," he says in a robotic voice, releasing the fear in your heart and replacing it with amusement as you guffaw at his robot impression.

"Thank you so much, John. I thought I'd never be able to get my glass of water in peace," you let out a relieved chuckle. "Sorry to scare you with my screaming".

"No problem. I was more worried that you got hurt," he answers. 

"Tell you what, as a thank you I'll cook your favourite dish for dinner next week, as soon as our groceries are restocked," you suggest. 

"Sure thing. It's the least you can do after nearly giving me a heart attack," he jokes. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever John,” you chuckle, rolling your eyes and moving to pour yourself a glass of water. 

Funny I said that, everytime I’m around her, my heart pounds so fast I feel like I’m having cardiac arrest, Johnny thinks to himself as he strolls out of the kitchen. 

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Perhaps, deciding to sing in the shower is far from a wise choice — even if you think you’re alone at home.

But that’s exactly what you decided to do. After coming home from a stressful day at school, all you wanted to do was take a warm shower, use your favourite shampoo, and then get to tackling whatever assignments you had. And because Johnny wasn’t home, you thought it would be a safe bet to relieve some of that stress by belting your heart out to songs. 

You finish your private shower concert with your own rendition of Whitney Houston's "I Will Always Love You”, and exit the bathroom to find a new note on the fridge. Bro, great voice, you should’ve sang louder. I would’ve had a much better recording :)

He was home? I didn’t know! A mildly panicked thought zooms through your mind. You unpin the note from the fridge, and go off in search of your roommate. “Johnny Suh, if you really recorded me singing earlier, I’m gonna freaking kill you!” you exclaim, heading in the direction of his room. Sure enough, your own voice comes blasting through the door, eliciting a sigh from you. Still, you knock his door and wait for him to consent to your entry before opening the door and lunging towards him, pretending to strangle him. “You! Delete the recording, now!” you demand, making a finger gun and holding it to his head. 

“Not in a million years,” he replies, smirking as he holds his phone to his chest. “C’mon man, you sounded glorious, why would I not want a memento of your fantastic voice? Besides…” his voice trails off. “It would make great blackmail material!” he finishes, lips curving into a triumphant grin.

“You piece of-“ you attempt to snatch the phone from him, but he stands up and holds the phone up high. Though you’re not that short, Johnny has a height that can match Goliath’s, and you’re not able to reach his phone. “Fine. If you don’t delete that recording, I’ll retract my promise of cooking your favourite dish for tomorrow,” you huff. 

“Okay, fine, fine!” Johnny concedes, holding up his hands in surrender. Lowering his phone in front of your face, he unlocks it, opens his files and then makes a show of deleting the audio clip. “There. Happy now, milady?” he asks, waving his phone in front of your face. 

“Yes, very good,” you approve. “Congratulations then, you saved yourself,” you declare, striding out of the room. 

Little did you know, that night Johnny retrieved the audio clips from his phone’s recycling bin and listened to them, smiling to himself at how goofy and adorable he found you. He realised how idiotic he would have looked if you or anyone else were there, but hey — he was alone in the privacy of his room, with only the moonlight streaming through the window to accompany him.

Gosh, since when was I so down bad for her? He asks himself as he sets his phone on the bedside table and drifts off to sleep. 

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥ ⋆

“So this is what your apartment looks like? That’s nice!” Taeyong compliments his friend on his apartment as he steps in, taking a look at the place. The last semester had rolled around really quickly, and Johnny had invited his close friends and group mates, Taeyong and Yuta, over to the apartment to work on a year-end group project. 

“Yeah, y/n and I decorated it together, is it nice?” Johnny asks, heart swelling with some amount of pride.

“Yeah, the ‘married couple’ vibes are immaculate,” Yuta says, eyeing the pictures on the wall, most of which were pictures you and Johnny took when you hung out together. 

Johnny doesn’t miss the teasing lilt in Yuta’s voice, and rolls his eyes at him. “We’re not married or in any form of relationship, we’re just roommates,” he reminds Yuta while leading his friends into the kitchen. “You guys want anything to drink?” he asks kindly. While Taeyong simply opts for water, Yuta doesn’t answer, instead focusing on reading the note you’d left for Johnny on the fridge. “I’m at Wendy’s house with Seulgi to work on our year-end project. By the way thanks for killing the cockroach for me last week, I’ll cook your favourite dish for dinner tonight when I get home! Aww,” Yuta remarks, turning to smirk at Johnny. “So, you kill the bugs while y/n cooks as a thank you? If that doesn’t sound married, I don’t know what does”.

“Yuta, I already said, we’re not married or in a relationship. I mean, I do like her, but neither of us plan to-“ Johnny is cut off by Taeyong literally spitting out his water. It’s in that moment that Johnny realises that he let that detail slip, and his hands instinctively fly to his mouth. 

“Wait, sorry, what? Say that again?” Taeyong prods. 

Johnny huffs and shakes his head. “Nevermind. Pretend I said nothing. Let’s just go get our project done”.

“Y’know, if you really like her, I think you should tell her,” Taeyong comments later as they’re wrapping up their project. 

“Nah bro. I’m sure she doesn’t like me back that way”. Johnny shakes his head. 

“How would you know?” Yuta questions.

“C’mon man, we’ve both been nothing more than best friends for a good chunk of our lives. No way she sees me as more than that,” Johnny argues, but both his friends are not convinced. 

“You’re not her, you wouldn’t really know,” Taeyong points out.

“That’s true. But I’d rather keep quiet than jeopardize our friendship by telling her,” Johnny replies. 

“Jeez, the signs are so obvious. I can’t believe you literally live under the same roof as her, yet you’re oblivious to all of them,” Yuta groans. 

“There are signs?” Johnny questions, raising an eyebrow. 

“Bro, I’ve caught her staring at you multiple times in Chemistry class. I sit beside you, and I can literally feel her gaze on you,” Taeyong says.  

“And even if she’s tired thanks to a lack of morning coffee, the moment you walk in — boom, her mood changes. Suddenly, she’s a can of beans and I can hear her even from the farthest end of the room. How do you not pick up on these things?” Yuta asks, not sure whether to be amazed or unimpressed by his friend’s oblivion. 

“She really does those things?” Johnny asks. He tries to hide his surprise, but his furrowed brows and agape mouth give it away.

Yuta facepalms. “Oh my gosh, you’re unbelievable”.

But it didn’t matter. Now that that information was in Johnny’s hands, he was now planning out his next move. 

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“And…we’re done for today! Great work y’all!” As three of you wrap up your work for the day, Wendy affirms the whole group.

“So how’s it been living with Johnny?” Wendy asks you as the three of you sit down at her table with the packet drinks she offered.

“It’s been going well so far,” you answer, taking a sip of your drink. “It’s really great to have him around the house so far”. 

“Why? So you both can get more couple time together?” Seulgi looks up from her drink with a grin on her face.

“Oh please, Johnny and I aren’t married,” you scoff. “We’ve been nothing but best friends for so long”. 

“That could change,” Wendy pipes up, and you shoot her a joking glare. Maybe you should never have told them you were beginning to crush on your best friend. “Okay but seriously, y/n, when are you going to tell him you like him?” 

“Never ever,” you reply, hoping your monotone could convey the finality of that decision to your friends. “We’re just friends, always will be, because he doesn’t like me back that way”.

“Ah ah, that’s where you’re wrong,” Seulgi argues. “You don’t happen to be a mind-reader, do you, y/n?”

“No, but-“

“Then how would you know Johnny doesn’t feel the same way? The only way to know for sure is to tell him how you feel first, and then see how he responds,” Seulgi cuts you off and offers her advice.

“But if he doesn’t feel the same way it’ll make things awkward between both of us,” you object, voicing your concerns.

“And if he does? y/n, if none of you make the first move, Johnny could well end up with someone else. I’ve seen Minjeong ogling at him already, you know,” Wendy adds. The last bit of information wasn’t true, but knowing that three of you shared a common dislike towards said girl, Wendy spun the tale in a bid to jolt you into action faster. 

“Wait, are you serious?” You stare at Wendy and Seulgi with wide eyes, and feel your heart sink to the pit of your stomach as they nod. 

“So, unless you want that bitch to get to your Prince Charming first, I suggest you quicken things and confess,” Seulgi advises.

That piece of information fills you with a new kind of determination, and you decide to take your chances. “Okay, that does it. I’m telling him how I feel, and if he doesn’t like me back that way, I guess I’ll see if he wants to remain friends or drift apart,” you decide. 

“Atta girl. How do you plan to do it?” Seulgi inquires. 

You pause in your tracks. “I don’t know, actually,” you admit. “I don’t really have any plan in mind”.

Three of you sit in silence, trying to formulate a plan for your confession. “Hmm, Christmas is coming soon, right? You could write him a note and attach it to his Christmas gift,” Wendy suggests. 

“Ooh, or you could just attach the note to the fridge on Christmas morning, when Johnny’s still sleeping,” Seulgi offers an alternative. “Then you park yourself in a spot you both like, maybe the cafe that you both frequent, and tell him to come find you there after he reads the note if he wants to talk”.

You process the suggestions that they just gave you, but eventually decide to go with Seulgi’s idea. “Thanks guys! Guess I have a plan now,” you smile.

“No problem. Girls help girls,” Wendy answers with a laugh. “Let us know how it goes”.

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧❄•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥❄‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥ ⋆

On Christmas eve, you learn one thing — the person who coined the saying “easier said than done” was absolutely right. 

You had been so confident the days leading up to Christmas — writing and re-writing your note to him, asking Wendy and Seulgi for advice, and rehearsing what you would say to him after he reads the note. 

But now, at 8 am in the morning, you’re standing in front of your fridge, clad in your favourite winter coat and beanie, hand moving to place the note on the fridge door before removing it again. 

Is this really a good idea? What if he rejects me? Will I be able to handle the pain that comes after? A million questions race through your head as you contemplate your decision. Screw it, let’s just do this, you decide, and reach for a magnet on the fridge.

A hand comes out of nowhere and reaches out for the same magnet. “Oh, I’m sorry, you can use that,” a familiar voice sounds next to your ear, making you jump. 

“Johnny! Why are you up so early?” you ask, genuinely surprised. Johnny’s not a morning person — he’ll take any opportunity to sleep in. To see him up so early in the morning on a holiday was probably an event that should be recorded in history books.

“Oh, erm, I just — have somewhere to be later,” Johnny garbles out a reply somewhat hesitantly as he fiddles with the earmuffs around his neck. “I wanted to leave you a note before I left, but I suppose I can just pass it to you now?”

“Sure thing,” you answer, taking the piece of paper from him. You assumed it would be something simple, such as asking you to pick up something from the store or to let you know where he’d be. 

“Do you mind passing me yours as well? I can just read it now,” Johnny suggests before you can properly register the first word on his note. 

You hesitate, thinking your options over. If you told him no and just left the note on the fridge before scurrying off, he would still read it anyway. If you told him yes and complied — same result. Oh well. “Here you go,” you say, praying that he doesn’t see how your hands are trembling ever so slightly. Your heart thuds like a galloping horse as you watch him scan your note — the moment of truth was near. In a bid to distract yourself, you read his note to you.

Y/n:

I’ve kept this secret to myself for way too long, and I need to get it off my chest, so I’ll say it here now — I love you, as more than just my best friend. 

There’s so many things about you that made me fall for you. For one, we share the same sense of humour — you’re the only person I know who will talk about weird shit with me the whole night until we’re in stitches from laughing, wondering if we need mental help. I really appreciate the things you do for me, be it taking care of me when I’m sick, cooking my favourite dishes, or remembering even small details that I mention to you. Another reason is that you’ve been my best friend for so long, there’s this level of comfort and understanding that’s exclusive to the both of us. I don’t know — there’s something about being in your presence that brings me this warm sense of comfort and joy, and it’s more than words can describe. Of course there’s more reasons, but if I went on this note will never end. 

I know that this is very sudden, and I understand that you may need time to think it over, so take as long as you need, and meet me at the cafe beside school when you’re ready to talk. Merry Christmas, y/n.

You read and re-read the note multiple times with what you’re sure is a visible gawk on your face. Johnny likes me too? Is this a dream? You pinch yourself hard, and soon realise you’re really not dreaming. 

“Dude, you like me too?” Johnny’s voice disrupts your train of thought, and you shyly nod as you look up from the piece of paper, now slightly crumpled due to the tightness of your grip on it. Disbelief, surprise and then joy make their way onto his face in quick succession, before he lunges for you like a golden retriever and pulls you into a big hug. “Oh my gosh, I was so afraid you didn’t feel the same way, and that I’d ruin our friendship,” he mumbles. 

“Honestly, same here John,” you reply, head resting on his shoulder. “But I’m glad now I know, because I can finally confidently say that I love you — as more than just my best friend”. Your next move surprises Johnny — before you both break the hug, you press a chaste kiss to his lips. His stunned expression amuses you to no end, and you end up chortling at how he raises his fingers to his lips in disbelief. 

But when he overcomes the surprise, he pulls you in once more for another kiss, this time one that’s longer and a bit deeper. You savour everything about the kiss, from the feel of his lips on yours to the taste of his chocolate lip balm. 

“Wow, what a way to start our Christmas,” Johnny chuckles as you both pull away for oxygen. “Merry Christmas, y/n. I love you”.

You smile at your friend, heart bursting with more joy, love and warmth than you’d ever felt in your whole life. “Merry Christmas, Johnny. I love you”. 

taglist: @moonsclover @bangchan-fairy

[gdrflxboy-gayace]

"boring adult things" I'm excited for in my (queerplatonic) relationship

my recently new relationship has got me thinking that adult life isn't so terrible. someday I get to do these things, yknow?

figure out how to cat-proof our apartment together (both regularly and for christmas decorations, the tree)

decorate our apartment. the living room omg

decide who gets which bedroom and view blahblah

organizing our bathroom, ie shower products + the counter

hugging each other while one does the dishes because "ohmygod thank you I hate doing the dishes" "I love you too"

being who your partner brings to work events (like holiday parties or social events they're supposed to bring a guest with)

setting a budget together, using our strengths and weaknesses financially

grocery shopping

first moving in together after college and having to work out our career paths together

teasing each other over our "silly" food preferences (ex: the consistency of mashed potatoes, which cheese is best, fork or spoon for ___, etc) but strictly sticking to them anyways when the other cooks

picking a standard-ish time we want our dinner to be every night

watching jeopardy together

one of us taking off our jacket and shoes and immediately collapsing onto the couch with the other, taking time to hear about each other's days and feel at home

we don't intend to live in our home state, so navigating that independently while together at the same time

memorizing each other's orders (even more so) and surprising the other with coffee or treats occasionally

making the other's bed (we already sort of do this, also separate beds)

cuddling on the couch, one falls asleep and the other can't move without waking them so they set an alarm 'cause they know the sleepy one has work in the morning

if we do marriage for tax benefits kind of thing, doing taxes together

planning our holiday visits together -- who are we going to see when, buying plane tickets or choosing a route

using our vacation days every now and then to just do something small together

not seeing each other a lot for a few days because of bad work schedules and then choosing to spend time near each other no matter what other things have to get done -- you're cleaning the bathroom? sweet I'll help you, I miss you (the key to this is that the work schedules mean you just have more alone time, not that you don't have *any* time)

sharing calendars n stuff

working out family things together. giving distance when needed but discussing issues like parents aging, sibling emergencies, attending funerals

making sure we've taken new medications we're not used to remembering yet

supporting each other's new habits, like stretching every night or wearing a retainer (*nervous laughter*) or drinking a certain amount of water or eating less red meat

in my case, planning out when I eat nuts because of my partner's tree nut allergies

miserably cleaning out terribly silly things to clean like the oven but Together and with Music so it's tolerable

grabbing the mail for the other person

going to go vote together (have already done this but <3)

taking out the trash together

going to our high school reunion and afterwards we're just like "wow. huh. kay bye losers. shall we go get custard?"

the point is, I can't wait to keep spending the rest of my life with this person

[runawaycarouselhorse]

I think it's fun to find ways to make even an ordinary, already-furnished apartment fit your aesthetics (I used paper doilies for decoration and even cut the round ones into corners to decorate the corners of the TV… I used an old blanket and bought a new cute ribboned cushion to cover the grey and rough-textured couch to make it more comfortable and appealing…), but it looks like a lot of kids on social media think if you don't have THE specific brands of makeup/home decor/whatever other influencers treated as experts on the subject hawk, you can't fit in, and it's so goofy and sad. You can wear whatever you want regardless of how your room looks... being on social media too much has them seeing their life as a set. You don't have to perform. Not everyone has to be an inflencer.

Your room should definitely express who you are, but there's plenty of inexpensive and non-permanent ways to do so! What happened to sticking up posters for the thing you like and getting cute pillows and plushies?

You guys like those tropical Hello Kitty so much, get a plush of Hello Kitty with a tan for your bedroom, collect some seashells on the beach and put it in a recycled jar of olives or pickles to decorate your table, print out (at the bookstore or even library, if your parents would give you grief over the admittedly steep price of colour printer ink these days) your favourite tropical pictures for your wall--done! Your cute aesthetics for cheap, without sinking your or your parents' budgets.