#i blame the weather. i blame the weather for these kinds of ideas. I'm just dying of heat and too broke to turn the aircon on

[dreamwritesimagines]

You're so right, Logan and Sunshine's idea of parenting would be SO different. I love the idea of Logan playing with Theo like the little kid he is and Sunshine freaking out like the helicopter mom she is

- "CAREFUL LOGAN!! HE COULD BREAK HIS HEAD!"

"Princess, I promise I ain't gonna drop him." Logan says as he's holding Theo upside down by his ankles, swinging him around as they walk "Unless he wants to be dropped, right kid?"

"Don't drop me, Mr. Logan!" Theo laughs

"What was that? I can't hear ya kid? Did ya say drop ya?" Logan would fake like he's gonna drop Theo. Both Theo and Sunshine scream

- Theo's adorable laughter is the only thing that keeps Sunshine from clawing Logan to pieces 

- "DON'T drop me, Mr. Logan!" 

"Oh! DON'T drop you?" Logan would chuckle "Well, why didn't you say so?" Logan would swing Theo right side up and put him up on his shoulders "How's the weather up there, bub?" 

"It's great! Look how tall I am, Mom!" Theo leans on Logan's head as he tries to make eye contact with Sunshine. She nervously keeps her hands up near Theo in case she needs to quickly catch him

"You're gigantic, Bean! You must be eating everyone's vegetables at school to have gotten that big. But maybe we can shrink down again? It would make mom feel a whole lot better if you weren't taller than her. I mean, how am I supposed to kiss your cheeks when you're way up there?"

"Like this!" Theo would stretch his face as low as he can. Sunshine would chuckle and lean in to plant a sloppy kiss on Theo "Ew! Mom!" 

- Theo shoots up and to wipe his face with his sleeve 

- Logan would laugh until Sunshine places a sloppy kiss on his cheek too

- "Mom!" Theo gasps and quickly wipes Logan's face for him "I'm so sorry, Mr. Logan. My mom is gross."

"Hey!" Sunshine pouts her lips and huffs

"Don't worry, Theo, I can handle a little 'gross'," Logan smiles "After all, I handle you kids just fine."

- Theo gasps and starts babbling about how officially 'not gross' he is while Logan grabs Sunshine's hand as they keep walking

THIS IS SO SWEET OMGGGG-

Sunshine is definitely a helicopter mom and Logan is gonna be the more relaxed dad 😂

"Princess, I promise I ain't gonna drop him." Logan says as he's holding Theo upside down by his ankles, swinging him around as they walk ASDFGHJKL Sunshine is like about to pass out while Theo is having the time of his life, giggling 😂

Theo's adorable laughter is the only thing that keeps Sunshine from clawing Logan to pieces Lolll she would be like "Listen, I do not care if he heals..."

Logan would swing Theo right side up and put him up on his shoulders "How's the weather up there, bub?"  HE IS SUCH A DAD ™️

She nervously keeps her hands up near Theo in case she needs to quickly catch him OMG-

I was literally picturing this, like her keeping her hands near Theo just in case and you wrote it! 🥰

"You're gigantic, Bean! You must be eating everyone's vegetables at school to have gotten that big. But maybe we can shrink down again? Listen, she is TRYING😂

Theo gasps and starts babbling about how officially 'not gross' he is while Logan grabs Sunshine's hand as they keep walking They are so cuuute! ❤️

I feel like Theo would fall asleep really fast at home when they get home and Logan would so pull Sunshine to himself in the couch while she's like,

"I'm so blaming you if he grows up and gets into like, skydiving or something."

"Have you ever seen me drop anything? Let alone him?"

"No but I told you before, worrying is kind of my thing."

"Princess..."

"Also like, I feel like if I look away one second-"

"Nothing is gonna happen to him ever. I promise."

[astolfofo]

Idk if it’s just me but like. I just wanna really high building, and sit on the edge of it, while I look at the sunset, and question existence, life, and death, with calm piano music in the background. And the wind is just blowing, and it’s slightly cold, but not cold enough to actually affect me. Just like somewhere I’d be kind of empty, and lonely, but it’d be enjoyable

[sparklingblu]

Inferior Activities

Lia x M Reader

"How's the salad?"

"Oh, it's great" you answer as you try not to grimace after swallowing the lettuce that taste no different from paper.

"I made few twists to the dressing, you know. A family secret" The bald man winks as he takes another bite of the potato that would have turned to coal if it have been roasted a minute more.

Studying the plates of green laid out all across the table, you make a firm decision never to become a vegan. At least not if your father in law is gonna be your chef. Lia has warned his cooking skills are terrible but you didn't expect it to be this awful. The only tolerable content of the table seems to be the so-called vegan meat and even that's starting to taste lesser and lesser like meat with each bite. No offense to all those animal loving vegans out there but they really are missing out a lot in their life. You wouldn't have lasted a day if you have to survive without meat.

Your eye flicker up to Lia, seated across, to see if she's on the same page with you on the matter. She lazily plops a broccoli into her mouth, her eyes betraying no signs of disappointment. The corner of her lips twitch in a thin smile as if to mock your suffering. She looks contented even.

In the end, you only have yourself to blame. When Lia suggestsled you visits her dad on the weekends, you agreed with a simple nod. Sure, it's your first time meeting her old man but what could go wrong? Right?

Except that everything does. As soon as you enter the house, the first thing the dude asked you was your opinion on wildlife conservation. At first you thought he was joking then you find out he's actually very serious about the matter. Weather talk would have been a good starter. Seriously, who starts a conversation like that?

Then after seeing the dishes he has prepared, you find out making conversation is the least of your worries. He's your father in law and you have respect for him and all but this dude is horrible at being a vegan. If he calls his mushroom soup which tastes more like mushroom-flavored dishwater 'a masterpiece', you might as well consider becoming a chef. Who knows? Maybe you will even get a couple michelin stars.

You are thinking of a way to escape this organic hell and the constant ear rape about how billions of animals are killed per year for human consumption when Lia finally comes to your aid.

"Dad, we are nearly done. Why don't you go make your signature smoothie? I haven't got the chance to taste it since I left for college" she suggests and the old man's eyes twinkle with maddening joy.

"Oh, of course! How could I forget that? It was your mother's favorite" his tone turns solemn at the mention of his late wife but you are too focused on the idea of finally getting some breathing room to care. "Two smoothies. Coming right up! You will absolutely love it" He winks at you again and leaves the table.

You drop your utensils and exhale in relief. "Finally. I was gonna turn into stone if I hear one more second of his animal talk"

Lia chuckles. "I get used to it after living with him for 18 years. He's actually a really sweeet guy. He just tries to focus on something else after my mom passed, I guess"

If the fact is supposed to make you feel sorry, it doesn't work. But you are not gonna tell her that. "How do you survive with this kind of food all these years?"

"It wasn't always that bad" Belle protests. "And sometimes he even cooks meat. But his skills get rusty with old age"

"Yep, I'm never becoming a vegan"

Lia pouts in annoyance. "Oh, come on. It's not that bad"

"Suits yourself"

"You just hate vegetables in general"

You roll your eyes in feigned annoyance. "Look, who's trying to follow her father's steps"

"Whatever" Lia finally gives up, pushing up her glasses from her nose. "I'm still hungry you know...."

"Maybe we can go to McDonald's or something later"

"No, daddy" Lia's voice turns low and sultry. "You know exactly what I want"

You look around in a panic to see if her dad has overheard your conversation. Thankfully, the guy's busy cutting carrots on the kitchen counter.

"Lia, I told you not to call me that in public. Especially not when your literal dad is right here" you warned, though you can't deny the fact that hearing her call you the name get your blood flowing backwards.

"Oh, come on, daddyyyyy" she pushes on, stressing the last word to make it sound even more fervorous. "I know you secretly love it"

"Look, babe. I love the name but this isn't the right place. Seriously, your dad's right there"

"So what?" Lia puts her elbows on the table, propping her chin in her palms. "Don't you enjoy a little risk?"

"Come on, babe. Not right now. I will make it up to you when you come back"

"But I want it now" Lia whines, the pout reforming on her lips. "Need to taste daddy's big cock. Need it shove down my throat"

"Lia...." you hiss, becoming aware of her tone, increasing by the second.

"Daddy pleaseee" she gives you those bambi eyes she knows you can't resist. "Let me suck your huge cock. I need you to fill up my mouth with your hot cum. I have been a good girl, haven't I? I deserve my reward" Lia runs her tongue along her top lips to punctuate her wish.

With the way her words get your asleep mamba waking up, you already know you are fighting a losing battle but you still need to be the one in charge here. "Alright, fine. But-"

"Oops. I drop my spoon" The metal hits the floor with a loud clang and Lia immediately dives down the table. It's an overused trope. You have seen it in hundreds of porn videos and you are no stranger to it. But you have never thought you would be in a similar situation and this time, the risk is very real. Her dad is not a paid actor who would pretend to be oblivious at the scene which would soon unfold.

"Is everything ok?" Lia's dad shouts from the kitchen counter, now washing.....are those eggplants?

"Yes, mister! We are gold!" You replies, hoping he would stay focused on his veggies.

You look down and find Lia already kneeled between your legs, a flicker of amusement in her eyes behind those glasses. Her lips curve into an impish smile. "Just stay still and let me do all the work, daddy" she whispers, her hands already working on your zipper. With one swift pull, she opens it up, revealing your red underwear underneath. "Oh, daddy's wearing my favorite colour today" Lia muses as she grabs your cock over the thin fabric, her thumb tracing slow circles. "Daddy, you are already so hard"

As much as you want to prolong this pornographic session, her dad is not going to be in the kitchen forever and you don't want to give him a heart attack. "Babe, enough teasing. Make it quick" you warn and her thumb rests on your head, pressing down on that sensitive spot she only knows. You let out a half-formed moan, not daring to be loud.

"You know the magic word, daddy. No need to be so formal" she presses again and you grit your teeth.

"Start sucking my cock, you slut" you calls her by her favorite nickname, which intsantly gets her engines revving.

"Yes, daddy" she release her grip, pulling down your underwear. Your rock hard cock springs out in a flash, hitting her spectacles. "Someone's eager" Lia chuckles, placing her brown locks behind her back, preparing for the main course. Her left hand close around your base, pumping it up and down in an agonizingly slow pace. She looks at your cock like it's something glorious, something she should be worshipping. But that's not so far from the truth. If this slut wants to choke on your cock, you are gonna permit it happily.

"Daddy, you are so big" Lia mutters dreamily, her free hand fondling your balls each at a time. The combination gets your mind cloudy, basking in the pleasure you nearly forget the whole point of this.

"I don't see you sucking my cock?" Lia stops her movements at your words and you nearly reget telling her to stop. But that doesn't last long because Lia instantly starts obliging to your command.

"Patience, daddy" With that, her rosy lips seal around your tip, taking you partly into the warmth of her mouth. Meanwhile, her hands grab your shaft, working in unison with each drag of her lips. The twist of her fingers along with her tongue that swirls around your slit gets you throwing your head back, letting out a graon. Then you quickly recompose not to expose yourself.

Lia doesn't seem to be bothered. Getting caught seems to be the last thing on your mind as she slurps on your head with fevorous vigour. Like it's the most delicous lollipop she has ever tasted. Her tongue gathers up any pre cum that leaks from your slit, taking it straight down to her stomach. She would takes anything your cock has to offer.

Every moment or so, you would check on her dad, making sure the guy's still busy brewing his organic potion which contents are starting to get weirder. But as long as he's busy, you don't care what he's putting into that blender. It's the best for him and you. You doubt the old man would be as merciful to you as he is to wildlife if he finds out his daughter is giving you head under his table.

But the task proves to be harder because Lia's dad would throw you ocassional glances and you have to put on this stupid grin everytime, which is not so easy with how Lia's sucking you off. Now she has taken half your cock into her mouth, her cheeks hollowed with unfathomable suction. Her hair sways with every bob of her head, forming silky waves of hazel. All the while, she keeps her eyes on you behind those circular frames, those pools of black seems to be asking if she's doing a good job.

"God, Lia....just like that" you grip the edge of the table to compensate for not being able to rejoice in the bliss of Lia's wet hole freely. Your head darting up and down as you keep watch on her father as well as enjoy the view between your legs.

Your shaft is now ringed with red as Lia leaves tarces of her lipstick mixed with her saliva while her lips glide smoothly along your cock, making it a red wet mess. Not like you mind. She can keeps messing it up all she wants.

Her tongue action doesn't waver either, licking up any available part but escpecially under your tip to tackle your weak spot each time she takes you in. To add icing on the cake, she has her left hand wrapped around your base to pump the lengths unattended by her mouth, not leaving out any throbbing vein.

You are helpless against her attack, the only action from your side to keeps grabbing the tablecloth into an unshapely tangle. And even that's starting to fail at holding back your moans.

A loud whirring sound fills up the place as Lia's dad starts brewing all those green stuffs in the blender. He gives you a thumbs up and you smile back, shammming excitement. The sound of the blender blades reminding you of the disguisting smoothie you will soon have to drink.

However, Lia takes advantage of the noise by taking your whole length down on her throat, the loud gagging sound lost in the echoes of spinning blades. You take the chance to make any audible sound that would let you express your euphoria. A moan. Then two. Then a couple more. It no longer seems to be ending as Lia devour your cock like a hungry animal, hitting the back of her throat each time she deeothroats.

Drops of saliva litters the ground. The evidences of Lia's godly work. Gags after gags escape her mouth in rhythm with your moans. However, escape won't be suitable here with the way your cock is blocking her airway. But that isn't a problem because she would choose your dick over oxygen.

The blender keeps whirring and Lia keeps choking on your cock. Her glasses now tilted at a strange angle from the force of her movement, the temple hanging on one ear only. Currently, her vision isn't as important as the taste of your dick on her tongue.

Lia finally pulls back, trails of saliva running from your tip to her lips. A waterfall of saliva staining her white shirt. Her tongue rolled out and her temples dripping with sweat.

"Daddy....am I...good?" she pants like a bitch in heat, all her lipsticks all gone.

"Very. But you gotta finish what you start my little slut"

"Yes, daddy. Feed me your thick cum. I want it all"

"Then come and take it"

Lia dives back on your cock, immeditaely swallowing your whole length. You groans out at the burst of pleasure, her throat constricted around your shaft. Lia holds her position, her nose pressed to your pelvis for a few moment before pulling back, just to start fucking her throat on your cock again and again.

The sound of the blender stops and you hear the clink of glasses. Turning your head, you find Lia's dad pouring the green liquid into two glasses. It would only be a few minutes before he comes back.

Lia seems to realize to because her lips form an airtight seal around your head and her hands satrt pumping your shaft furiously. Using all your willpower to hold out from finishing earlier leaves no strength left to withstand Lia's final assault. Your cock starts throbbing and soon you are spilling your cum into her mouth. Some reaching her tongue, the other flowing straight down her throat. Lia's fingers keep twisting back and forth and you empty the last drops of your protein rich fluid into her welcoming hole.

You close your eyes, breathing hard. The relief is instant as much as the build up is agonizingly blissful. Lia releases your cock with a pop and lick up the remnants of cum on the tip. You are too lost in the euphporic finale you totally forget the perilous situation you are in. When you realize, it's too late.

Lia's dad is near the table, two glasses of the green smoothie in his hands. His face is a mixture of shock and distress as he stands rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed on her daughter's face a few centimeters away from your spent cock. His mouth opens but before he can speak, Lia chimes in.

"Thanks for the meal daddy. But I don't think I'm going to need the smoothie. I already have dessert"

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

[corroded-hellfire]

Hi gorgeous a fic request idea it's my first time requesting so sorry if I'm doing it wrong! What about reader being insecure about herself and worrying she's not smart or hot enough for Eddie and it's just Eddie being confused bc how could she think that wen he's the town freak?? and then reassuring her and just lots of fluff

Ah, this is so relatable! I know I need Eddie to reassure me. Also, the only way to request wrong is by being rude and you most definitely were not 💕

Words: 1.2k

You’re not sure what caused the recent feeling of inadequacy, but you just can’t shake it. The last few weeks it feels like a storm has been rolling in bit by bit, always adding something new to the pile of things you already dislike about yourself. The little things that have always irked you in the back of your mind steadily keep making their way forward, pushing and shoving like there’s a clearance sale on your happiness and they want first dibs. 

It doesn’t matter that your grades are holding steady because you answered a question wrong in class today when the teacher called on you. You’re such an idiot. There’s a new pimple growing in like a second head near your lips. You’re so gross. The weather be damned, your hair is going to look a wreck rain or shine. You’re such a mess. The clothes the other girls wear are flattering and beautiful, making yours look like dirty dish rags in comparison. You’re such a loser. 

Despite trying your damnedest to hide how you’re feeling from the world, your boyfriend knows you too well for that. Eddie notices the way you lose focus, your attention drifting somewhere else—internally, he’s afraid. 

Your latest zone out is while the two of you are sitting on his couch, watching a movie. A part that you’ve laughed at a million times before comes on and Eddie can tell your brain hasn’t even registered what’s on screen. He keeps stealing glances at you from the corner of his eye, growing more concerned each time. Eventually, he can’t take it anymore. 

“Babe, what’s wrong?”

“Hmm?” You’re broken out of your stupor and meet Eddie’s gaze with glassy eyes.

“What’s going on?” he asks, concern etched deep into his brow.

“What do you mean?” You know your attempt at playing dumb won’t work either—on top of everything else, you’re a shit actress too. 

“You’ve seemed sad lately. Kind of…distant,” Eddie says, taking care to choose his words carefully. He doesn’t want you to feel as if he’s interrogating you but wants to convey his genuine worry and concern.  

Shame floods your body as you realize Eddie has noticed your change lately. Just another thing for you to feel bad about. You shift awkwardly, moving out from under Eddie’s arm, where you were nestled comfortably. 

“N-Nothing’s wrong.”

Eddie gives you a disbelieving look. You can’t blame him; that was some pretty shitty bluffing.

“Sweetheart,” he starts, “you think I don’t know you well enough to tell when something’s wrong? When you’re lying?”

“You do,” you admit, voice low and soft. 

It’s a mutual instinct, though, as you can read Eddie just as well. The sadness in his eyes cracks your heart in two, knowing you’re what’s causing it. 

“Talk to me,” Eddie says, taking one of your hands. He holds your hand in both of his and gently massages it. “What’s wrong?” 

“I don’t know,” you say with a shrug, trying to avoid his eyes. “I just feel…off lately.”

“How so?”

Embarrassment grows inside of you, blooming like a flower—or maybe a weed. It’s hard for you to bring yourself to tell Eddie the truth–it just makes you feel even more pathetic than you already are. There’s no use trying to keep it from him any longer, though. 

“Like I’m not…enough.”

“Enough? Enough of what?” Eddie’s brow furrows in confusion as he keeps rubbing his thumbs along the back of your hands. 

“Well, enough for you,” you admit as you feel your cheeks burn with the humiliation that the truth brings.

“Me?” Eddie’s eyebrows pinch together, and he shakes his head. “I don’t understand.”

You breathe out a defeated sigh that breaks Eddie’s heart and take your hand from his grasp. 

“I see all the other girls,” you say, anger creeping into your tone. Not anger at Eddie or at the other girls; anger at yourself for being so inferior. “They’re so pretty and smart and I can’t help but wonder why you want to be with me.”

Every word you say confuses and shocks Eddie even further.

“You…huh?” Eddie says, mind not able to comprehend what’s going on. In his mind, there is not a single dimension or alternate reality where you aren’t enough for him. It’s simply not possible. 

“I’m not hot enough for you,” you say with a sniffle and a shrug. “Or smart enough. Or nice enough, or funny enough—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Eddie says, waving his hands in front of him. “You’re not serious, are you?”

The look on your face and the tears about to spill from your eyes when you look at him tell him that you are, though. Eddie can’t help but let out a breathy chuckle and shake his head.

Your brow furrows at his laughter and a tear escapes your eye and makes its way down your cheek. Panic flashes in Eddie’s eyes when he sees your reaction and he’s quick to remedy the situation. 

“Oh, no, no!” he says. His hands come up to cup your face and his thumb wipes away your rogue tear. “I don’t think it’s funny. Well, in a way I kind of do. You think you’re not enough for me? Sweetheart, you really have no idea how amazing you are, do you?” When your only reply is another sniffle, Eddie sighs. “I don’t understand how you could think that,” he says. “You do know you’re dating the town freak, right?”

“But you’re not,” you insist defiantly. 

“And you’re not all those mean things you think about yourself.” He lets his hands fall down to your lap and takes your smaller ones in his. “Babe, you’re so insanely hot I can’t even believe you noticed me.”

Eddie chuckles and squeezes your hands. “And aren’t you the one always helping me with homework? Don’t I always get better grades when you help me?”

Eddie sighs and leans forward to rest his forehead against yours. You’re both quiet for a few moments. Eddie lets his eyes slip closed for a second before looking at you once again.  

“I hate that you’ve been feeling so down about yourself. I wish you saw yourself like I do. You’d see that you’re the most beautiful, wonderful woman in the world. Who is smart, who is kind, who is funny, who is everything she tells herself she’s not.” He leans in and presses a soft, sweet kiss against your lips. “I love you. I love you more than anything else in the world,” he tells you.

“I love you, too,” you reply in a whisper, tear tracks staining your cheeks. 

“Now, look at me,” Eddie says. He sits up straight and looks you in the eye.

“I am,” you say in a small voice.

“Am I lying?”

You know him so well, know when he’s telling even the slightest fib. But there’s no sign of that in Eddie’s eyes nor on his face at all. 

“No,” you admit.

“Come here,” Eddie says with a sigh, opening his arms for you.

Immediately you fall into them and nuzzle your face against his shirt. It’s your safe place; everything is always better when your head is on Eddie’s chest.

“Promise you’ll tell me when you have these thoughts, yeah?” he asks and presses a kiss to the top of your head. “And I’ll remind you that they’re not true. That you’re my gorgeous, brilliant girl. Promise me?”

“I promise,” you say, tilting your head up to look him in the eye.

He kisses your lips a few times, punctuating the message of his words. 

“You're my favorite,” he whispers against your mouth as you part. 

“Favorite what?”

“Everything.”

[moonstruckme]

I love your works! If you're willing, can you write something about tasm!Peter just like finding out about reader's sh scars? I'm not sure if you've done this already or not and I'm going through a tough time so I just really want some Peter comfort 😭. If you're not comfortable that's totally understandable! Please don't feel pressured to do this ❤️

Thank you sweetheart, I really hope your tough time is getting a bit easier or does soon <33

cw: past self-harm

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 775 words

Maybe it’s a good thing that you’re comfortable enough around Peter to forget. Even though you’ve only been dating a few months, you feel (sappily) like you’ve known him for years. You just fit together. Going over to his place is like going to your parents’ house or your best friend’s; it’s already home for you, comfy and welcoming in a way that usually only comes with history. Peter feels like he was yours before you met him. 

That sense of familiarity is probably why you don’t think to be self-conscious. It’s the first day of the year that New York is warm enough to go out without a jacket, and you’re celebrating with a short-sleeved top and a skirt. Both thin and airy, perfect for the day you’ve planned at the park. Peter’s packing your lunches when you step out of the bedroom, feeling very cute. 

Your confidence is rewarded. Peter grins, mouth dropping open coyly, and whistles when you do a little twirl for him. 

“I’m gonna have to play interference between you and other guys all day,” he says, not sounding particularly unhappy about the prospect as he passes you your water bottle. “I filled this up so we have more than just soda, that okay?” 

“Good idea.” You nod, taking it and putting it in your bag. 

You look back up, and somehow your boyfriend’s mood has changed in the space of a second. A furrow has appeared between his brows, eyes stuck on where your arm brushes against the fabric of your skirt at your side. 

“What’s…” His brows twitch and he holds a hand out. “Can I see your arm?” 

You give it to him unthinkingly, an awkward sort of foreboding taking root in your gut. Peter holds it with extreme gentleness, rotating it so the delicate skin of your forearm is exposed to the light. It’s only then that you remember he might not know. His quiet inhale confirms it. 

“Sweetheart…” His thumb brushes over the scar nearest, and you can practically see his mind flashing through memories of long sleeves, dark nights in his bed, the way you’d insisted on changing in the bathroom when you’d first started staying over. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, though you’re not sure what for. For upsetting him, maybe. Even though it was inevitable. Honestly, your closeness with Peter had almost made you forget he hadn’t already seen them. He’s got to be the last person in your small circle of family and friends who hadn’t known. You’re not secretive about that part of your past. You blame it on the timing of your relationship; you’d started dating when the weather got cold, and it had just never come up. 

“You don’t need to be sorry,” he says softly, an automatic response to your chronic over-apologizing. “Can I just…can I ask when this happened?” 

“It was a long time ago,” you reassure him. “I haven’t done it for years.” 

His brown eyes flit up from your arm to meet yours. “Have you wanted to?” 

Your breath gets caught in your lungs. You hold his gaze. “Not for a while.” 

He exhales slowly, nodding. It feels odd to have your arm handled this gently. Peter’s always so kind with you, but the way he’s touching you now…it’s like he thinks the skin will break again if he’s not careful. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. 

You make a quiet, demurring sound. “For what?” 

“Just that I wasn’t there. I don’t like the idea of you hurting without me.” 

“Pete.” Your voice is gentle, chiding. “We didn’t even know each other back then.” 

“Exactly.” He releases your arm, hand moving to cup your face. “I just wish I’d known you, that’s all.” 

His eyes are soft on yours, unasking. Fond in a way that makes your throat clog. “You don’t have to worry about me,” you say. 

“I like worrying about you.” His mouth tilts upward, cupid’s bow stretching. “But if you don’t want me to worry about this, I won’t. Just…you’d tell me if anything changed, right?” 

“I would,” you say, relieved. His thumb strokes your cheek, and you lean forward, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Thanks, Pete.” 

“For what?” He echoes your question from earlier, grin widening as he ducks down to press his lips to yours again. “I love you,” he mumbles, pecking playfully at your top lip, “so much.” He plants another where your cheek dimples. “You know that?” 

“Yeah.” You push up on your toes, backing him into the counter as your hand cups the back of his neck. The hair at his nape tickles your fingertips. “Yeah, I know.”

[hwanchaesong]

Altschmerz Teaser

a/n: imma give you a sneak peek for now to give y'all some idea about my works (i'm terribly sorry bc like i said, i type so slow idek why and my brain lags every 5 mins) this is an apology i can manage for the mean time 😭😭 pls do not hesitate to tell me, whatever means, if you wanted to be added to the taglist, tysm! 🥀✨

genre: angst, fluff, smut, university au, part of the ATEEZ Minisode Series

It is a good day to live and breathe like any normal person.

The weather is actually nice, a little cloudy with a nice touch of spring air, the skies are bluer than Taylor Swift's eyes and said singer's song titled 'The Man' is blasting through your earphones. You feel vigorous, your pristine white uniform for your medical course gives you a certain glow. Your classes went well, acing all of the assessments without much studying done, oh, truly a lucky day for you.

Then all hell breaks loose when your lovely friend, Felix, spills the tea during lunch at the cafeteria, his thick aussie accent that you usually love screeched like a racing car's tire in your ears.

"I heard that Kim Hongjoong of the music department has a crush on you."

"What the fuck?"

He held his hands up, explaining that he heard it while passing by their building. The way people narrated the 'girl' sounds exactly like you, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes at the information as Felix lists out the descriptions that caught his ears.

'She's from the Allied of Health and Sciences department.'

'She's really intelligent and kind, well, that's what the professors had said.'

'A fluent speaker! Shy at times but really bubbly with her friends.'

"I did say that I want some spice in my boring college life but not like this!" you exclaimed, stabbing a kimchi with your fork and aggressively eating it, the spice further heating your head up.

"Not like what?" just then, your other friend Lily, sat down beside you with her own tray of food.

"Felix here is spreading some fake news, he said that someone named Kim Hongjoong has a crush on me." you explained, side eyeing the freckled man before continuing to eat the remainder of your lunch.

"Oh yeah, he does. Some people are already shipping you together."

Then you choked at Lily's nonchalant reply, making her grimace and pat your back as an attempt to soothe your burning pharynx.

You did not expect her to agree at all, and you made sure to tell her that with the way you glared at her.

"He's not that bad, yes he is a music major like Hee-" you stare at her hard, not wanting to hear that specific name. Lily clears her throat and rephrases her sentence, "It is true that he is a music major, but you don't have to lump them all in one category. He's nice, my cousin knows him."

Felix nods, gulping his food before speaking, "Plus, it's just a crush. It's not like he's gonna court you all of a sudden."

They have a point, you don't have to make a big deal out of it. Besides, it's a rumor, most of the time it's plain bullshit.

You need to calm down. You're having a great day, a great start of the semester and you'll be damned if it'll be ruined this early.

Then the students at the library squealed like dying squirrels when they saw you enter. The other music majors at the university gates gave you a wink, hell, even one of the freshmen congratulated you and even said, 'You and Hongjoong-hyung will look good together!'

You mustered a smile throughout the ordeals, opting to finish the day peacefully like how you started it. Whatever happened today shall pass.

Well.. it should be but then you find yourself stalking the man's social media. You have already found his facebook, twitter, instagram, even his fucking youtube account (he has uploaded some guitar covers and you have to admit he's great at playing the instrument.)

You could defend yourself and blame curiosity later, but now, you'll indulge in some information that you could find on the internet. Surely you haven't seen him before, his face is unfamiliar, heck, you don't even know his name, not until your friends brought it up today.

Kim Hongjoong. A music major born on November 7, plays a lot of musical instruments, can write lyrics and is also a good producer. He sings, raps and dances (he was tagged in a dance cover on instagram, courtesy of someone named Park Seonghwa.) A passionate one in his career you assume as you watch one of his vlogs on facebook. You also listened to his recordings posted in his accounts, and you have to give him applause for his aesthetic instagram account.

He takes nice photos of his surroundings, even himself, and he does know how to make himself look good. He definitely knows the colors that suit him, outfits that make him stand out yet fully blended in the crowd if he wanted to. His hair is also unique, seems healthy despite the dyes that had stayed there for months before being layered by another one.

You lie on your bed, thinking that maybe the man himself isn't that bad. That you may have judged him early prior to knowing him. A fault on your part but it's not like you're going to meet or get to know him or the likes, you were simply curious about him and now that you have seen that his surface isn't dry nor rotten, your curiosity shall now die before the cat inside you does... and it's 3 in the fucking morning and you have 7 am classes so really, you'll still die either way.

What you did not expect though, as you wake up at 6:00 am, getting ready with max speed, was a notification that had you stumbling over your feet.

'Hongstagram has followed you back!'

Follow you back what? Since when did you follow him on his instagram?

You were careful! Very careful in what you were clicking and all that shit, not wanting to leave a trace of your visit in his social media accounts but you were so fucking wrong. You could blame the fuzzy feeling of drowsiness but you were so sure that you didn't click anything out of the ordinary.

Fuck your life.

That was your motto all day long, going as far as being dramatic with your friends during lunch break. Rambling about how he'll think you're a creep for stalking him or, or, how he'll think that you're interested in him when you swear to every rat out there that you're most certainly not.

It was horrible, except for the fact that you gotta eat coffee jelly for dinner because your father bought tons during a sale in the grocery and he couldn't resist his sweet tooth ass to buy some desserts.

Maybe you can sleep all of this away, yes, one night of beauty sleep will rejuvenate all of your worries except when Kim Hongjoong himself messaged you.

You jumped up from your bed when you accidentally tapped the notification on the upper half of your phone, due to your persistent tapping all over the screen because fuck that chop chop filter in tiktok (you're pretty sure you can cut that cucumber up to 200), opening the message and you contemplated whether to left it on read or be polite enough to reply.

You chose the latter, not really wanting for your name to be tarnished if this Hongjoong guy goes around and says that you're a snob.

Hongstagram: Hey Y/N! Sorry to disturb you, but may I talk to you tomorrow?

You: Good evening Hongjoong! I'm sorry my sched is kind of packed tomorrow, you can tell it now though.

Hongstagram: It's kind of embarrassing to say it through dms.

Oh my god. No fucking way. He's gonna confess.

Hongstagram: But okay, here goes nothing.

Hongstagram: I heard that you're one of the best students, so, could I borrow your notes for History? I've been meaning to ask you this for a while now because Mr. Lee talks about you every time he's in class and tbh, I couldn't care less about the minor subject. But still, I need to pass it in order to advance soo..

He was yapping so hard and you're ridiculing him inside your head but, the guy needs help and you're not some kind of witch with a stone heart. So you, being the kindest soul out there, decided to help him out.

You agreed to give him your notes and print-outs, but you didn't reply to him when he sent you a time and place for the meet-up.

Imagine his surprise when you arrived at the said café, on time and with a big, thick envelope in your hands, sitting in front of him without any trace of hesitance.

"Hi." you greeted him calmly, offering a handshake which he accepted with a smile, "Y/N here. Nice meeting you Hongjoong."

"Likewise. Thank you for entertaining my request." he replied, short but enthusiastic nonetheless.

Still, the awkward air is suffocating you and thank god the coffee and pastries can provide you some distraction because you truly cannot do this without going crazy.

Whatever confidence you had before was some kind of fallacy because you're a nervous wreck in front of this man. You're suddenly hit by the realization that this is the same guy that was rumored to have a crush on you and now you're sitting in this coffee shop with him, alone.

If someone from your university sees you two, that will surely cause a ruckus and your friends will probably bombard you with questions.

"Thank you for this, by the way." Hongjoong speaks up and it brings you back to reality, this time, you took a moment to take him in.

He really is fashionable, you'll give him that. His previously pink hair had turned into burgundy, he pairs his denims with leather better than anybody, and his color scheme for today is on point.

"You're most certainly welcome, I-"

"Listen, I know you know the rumors."

He cuts you off, rude. But he's getting straightforward now, nice.

Then you held a breath, is he actually confessing? If he did, how should you react? How should you answer?

You gulped, your palms getting sweaty and you couldn't help the tiny bit of excitement that coursed through your veins.

Your first ever confession after your dark, thunderous days of romance.

"Yes, I heard about it." you answered truthfully, giving him a small smile which he purposely avoided. This baffled you, shouldn't he be happy that you're giving him the time of your day?

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience but my friends are idiots. It's not you that I like." he admits, biting his lower lip and cautiously peers over your confused form.

You almost sputtered your coffee out, the sweetness of your iced hazelnut compensates well to the bitterness that was starting to spread out.

You faked a cough, sporting a feigned understanding countenance before asking for more elaboration, "If not me, then who is?"

He beams at you giddily and his answer almost made you want to leave.. almost.

"It's your friend, the cute one that you always help out during 21st Century Literature, Sakura." 

---------------------------------------------------

taglist:

@hyuckilstan @gwenchwana @minkiflwr @yeosangsbiceps @charreddonuts @justyoonsworld @hwadump @marievllr-abg

[ladymarycrawley]

The blondie I'm in love with - Mason Mount

Request: Mason has a fake girlfriend but with a happy ending please (requested by @masterclassbaby sorry baby, I kept you waiting so long for this 🙈 hope you like it!)

Warning: one of my worst pieces to date I think but after months of lacking any motivation to write about Mason I got struck but this idea all of a sudden last night so

Tag list: @masonxomount @prideofpd @masterclassbaby @chelsealover @johnstonesfc

Summer’s hot and sunny weather it’s like the secret ingredient for good things to happen, such as good holidays in beautiful places. Better if shared with people we love and have fun with. That was the case for you and Mason who got the chance to spend some time together with some of your mutual friends, spending days at the beach and nights out, staying up late.

Another thing that usually happens in summer, football related, is the transfer window where players say goodbye to the teams they've played in until that moment and let some new teams welcome them for their new adventure. Mason made no exception as he was among those players too. 

The season that just ended wasn’t the best of his career for sure and he needed that month away from football to clear his mind as well as relax. 

“Well now everyone will make up some weird theories about your new hair colour and that'll be so much fun" 

Clearing his mind meant also doing some crazy things such as dying his hair platinum blonde (something that was quite en vogue among those football players…what’s the fascination behind it?). Most people, the ones who liked drama more than anything else, were certain there was some deep meaning behind those style changes.

"You'll be the one to blame"

"Me?? What does it have to do with me?"

"Cause it's always some girl's fault"

You rolled your eyes, making him giggle.

"As if"

"We could turn the whole situation at our advantage and make it fun"

"What do you mean? You're scaring me, Mount"

“Well, we could pretend you’re my girlfriend and you’re the one girl to blame”

You served him a kind of puzzled look, not seeing the whole point of the thing.

“And so? What’s the sense of it all?”

 “Just to give them something to talk about, you know the transfer window is here and I’ve had enough of random people assuming things about myself and my future as a player so we’ll give them a distraction”

"I'm not sure I want to be their distraction…"

After a one of a kind, rather weird courting you gave in and accepted to be his fake girlfriend: behind the cameras and the paps' flashes you kept on behaving normally, as if nothing happened, as if you were still a couple of good friends and nothing more.

One of the reasons why you didn't want this thing to happen was because you knew, like it or not, something deep down your soul would have changed the way you perceived him and, consequently, the trajectory of your friendship. You always had a soft spot for him, not only because he was one your best friends but because something stronger was burning inside of you.

When his best mates would nudge him to tell him someone was watching or it was time for him to start his little act of the boyfriend in love your heart started racing: the way he would move closer to sneak his arm around your waist and graze the pad of his thumb against your hip bone, matched with the tender touch of his lips lingering against your jaw made you feel kind of dizzy. What if you were falling in love with one of your closest friends, for real, not just to play some senseless game?

"We would really make a cute couple" He whispered in your ear, giggling.

You giggled back, annoyed by how this thing was a bit too funny to him. 

"We should break up at some point, you know that?"

"Who said that?" He kissed the sensitive skin behind your ear, causing goosebumps all over your arms.

"God Mase, I hate you sometimes" 

The smirk on your face as he was holding you tight to him made you a very bad liar, there’s no other place you would have rather be in.

Those days were soon turning into a slow agony: Mason would swim close to you and give you underwater hugs, napping with you on the same bed, placing his hands on your hips in the club at night so your bodies would sway together to the rhythm of the loud music. You were doing all the things a couple would do but you weren’t a couple.

This dynamic cooled down when it was time for him to get back in business as things at Cobham weren’t going particularly well but you were sure he’d have sorted it out as he was Chelsea through and through. But you were wrong.

He avoided talking about what direction his football career would have taken even with you, who used to be the one he would tell everything, even the smallest things.

When the day prior to his official announcement he sat on your bed in your London house to tell you he accepted the bid Manchester United made for him so he would have moved up north rather soon you felt as if the whole world was falling upon your shoulders and Mason was your whole world.

"Wh - what? You're not a Chelsea player anymore?"

The sadness filling his eyes was heartbreaking to say the least, he was gutted to leave his heart's club, most of all because he was kind obliged to do so if he wanted to go on playing, which was the thing that mattered the most to him.

Mason nodded as his chocolate pupils followed your body falling to the ground, on your knees.

"Hey, are you -" He asked, getting up in a rush to take you.

"Don't touch me"

He gave you a puzzled look and you soon provided him with an explanation. 

"You knew it, you knew you'd have left Chelsea and London from the beginning. That's why you dyed your hair this awful blonde that makes you look like a fuckboy. I hate you. You just used me for fun and you knew it from the beginning!" You cried out, trying to fight back the tears.

“You agreed when I told you about the fake relationship”

“Yes but you did it only because you already knew you would have left Chelsea and you used me as a shield against the fucking press!”

“I - didn’t know anything about United, we were in talks but it wasn’t official at all!”

“Fuck off Mason” You muttered, lowering your eyes as if you were looking for something on the carpet your tired body was abandoned on. Mason didn’t dare to look at you either, keeping his gaze down too.

"I dyed my hair simply because I liked it, because I had a shitty season felt the need to change something…I like you too"

"You what?" Your eyes now had to stop looking for something that didn’t exist on the floor and start to look at the handsome boy before you who just happened to say something quite powerful.

"Y/N I wanted to have some fun, yes, but I also liked you for quite a while and I didn't know how to tell you not to ruin our friendship." He kept on explaining with the softest voice.

“Oh so you now think you can get away with it by saying some sweet words??” Yes, those sweet words surely had an effect on you and denying it was the biggest lie ever.

“Come to Manchester with me”

That invite left you in a shocked state as it was the last thing you were expecting: why should he ask you to follow him away from London? You were good friends but that’s not the kind of question usually asked to someone who’s only a friend.

“Did you hear what I said?? I don’t even know if I want to be your friend anymore. You just used me and now you’re asking me to leave my city, my everyday life to follow you?”

“Yes, because I love you”

The three words. Mason just said those three words to you. 

“You’ve always been there for me when I needed it, you always keep up with my shit, including faking a love relationship, but now I feel like I’m ready to have a real one. I wanna get home from training and see you there, dozing off on the sofa and kiss your forehead or taking you out to dinner at some fancy place”

Mason was there, looking as the most fragile creature you’ve ever seen, opening his heart to you with no fear, he was being the Mason you fell in love with, little by little, over the years.

Warm tears, joyful ones this time, started rolling down your cheeks as you threw your arms around his neck, causing him to fall flat on the mattress.

“I hate you, blondie”

“You love this blondie, you’re such a bad liar” You got lost in each other’s eyes that were shining with a different light, a warmer one.

“This could be the moment where I confess I’ve always been secretly in love with you but I won’t” You whispered shyly, making him smile.

He smirked and caressed your lower back in a circular motion.

“You hid it quite well actually” You both giggled before he pressed his lips against yours in a real kiss, one of those sloppy but heartfelt kisses that took you to another dimension, a dreamy and ideal one.

The moment you were living was just too intense to think about anything else and soon you found yourself straddling him, not even realising the speed at which your clothes fell on the floor, too busy making love to him for the first time.

That bed felt like the best place on earth, the one where all your dreams and hopes became true, the one where you were safe from every danger the outside world might be holding against you.

“This is not just a summer thing, right?”

“This will be a thing for many summers to come”

Mase’s arms were now your home, the shelter you would have run to in case of extreme glee or of unbearable pain, it was the place to be.

[winchester-girl67]

Wild Hearts (Part 4) - Postcards From Dean

Summary: Postcards from Dean to Y/N; sent over the years they were apart. 

Masterlist

Pairing: AU!Dean x reader 

Square: Postcards @j3bingo

Word Count: 743 

Warnings: underage, age gap (reader is 16-22, Dean is 20-26), language, slow burn, long distance relationship of sorts, pining, maybe a little angst, time jumps, fluff 

A/N: This part was written for @j3bingo go as a collection of AU postcards from Dean to Y/N.

_____ 

A few of your favourite postcards from Dean - from the six years you were apart. 

___________________________________

Hey Y/N, 

What do you write on a postcard? 

Dean

P.S. I picked up a stack of these at a rest stop on the way to Sioux Falls and I thought you'd like some old school snail-mail. I'm aware that your parents and the mailman will probably read this too, so... I'm sorry I got your daughter into trouble and now she has- what, ten hours of community service left? But, she's kind of a badass and saved my life so don't go too hard on her. 

P.P.S. And to the mailman: Not cool, dude. 

___________________________________

Dear Y/N, 

Sam told me to start these with 'Dear' instead of 'Hey', I kind of like the way it sounds so I let him be right for once. Bobby and Jody are pretty cool, they won't even let me pay rent so we can save more money. We'll have a place of our own in no time now. 

xo Dean 

P.S. I hope the 'x' is okay, if not I blame Sam. If so, it was all my idea. You can't tell but I just winked at you. 

P.P.S. It's my birthday and Jody made me a cherry pie! It was so good, I had every intention of saving you a piece but now I'll just have to learn how to make one for you instead. Can't wait for your phone call tonight so I can tell you all about it. 

___________________________________

Dear Y/N, 

It took a little longer than I thought but we just moved into our own apartment! It's closer to Sam's college but we can still visit Bobby and Jody with a short car ride. 

xo Dean 

P.S. Think you'll come visit me on your gap year? 

___________________________________

Dear Y/N, 

It snowed today! And I'm making pasta tonight. You can drool over it via video chat later. I wish we were in the same time zone so you could ring in the new year with me too. 

I’m missing you a lot lately,  xo Dean 

P.S. I'm sending you a big fat kiss. You can put it where you want it. X 

P.P.S. To the mailman: Get your mind out of the gutter. She's a lady! 

___________________________________

Dear Y/N, 

I'm seriously craving Donna's mocha ice cream right now. I think it would go great with Jody’s cherry pie recipe. Don't knock it till you try it! 

xo Dean

P.S. Sam hasn't stopped playing that playlist you made him for studying. I swear you have the worst taste in music. I'm going to make you a playlist tonight. 

___________________________________

Dear Y/N, 

I think I like the mountains on this postcard best, we should take a roadtrip there together, maybe next Valentine’s day? 

x Dean 

P.S. I don't like airplanes. 

P.P.S. But I'm going to take you to all the places on these postcards some day. 

P.P.P.S. I hope you're still pinning these postcards to your wall so you can hold them over my head some day. 

___________________________________

Dear Y/N, 

I'm sorry. 

xx Dean 

P.S. If I could have one superpower it would be the ability to control the weather. 

P.P.S. Getting snowed in would be a lot more fun WITH you. 

P.P.P.S. Maybe my superpower should’ve been teleportation! Damn it, is it too late to change my answer? 

___________________________________

Dear Y/N, 

I just dropped Sam off for his first year of law school. I feel old. Luckily, he got another scholarship though, so I don't have to worry about paying his tuition. Kid's a major nerd. 

x Dean 

P.S. I'm actually in California! The salt air here makes me think of home, of you. You feel so far away right now. I'm not even looking at the same ocean. That sucks. 

P.P.S. We haven't talked in a while and I know that's mostly my fault, but I wanted to give you a heads up. I'm coming home... Soon. 

___________________________________

Dear Y/N, 

Did you notice there's no stamp? 

Always yours, 

xoxo Dean 

P.S. I was going to tell you to meet me where I first kissed you but that's a hell of a walk. So meet me under our streetlamp. The one where you put ice cream on my nose the first night we met. 

P.P.S. I hope you come, I can't wait to see you. But I understand and no hard feelings if you don't. 

_________________________

Part 5

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28 @backseat-of-deans-67chevy

SPN: @hobby27

Wild Hearts: @justrealizedimmascifygurl @evieluvsjamie @kimberkingrivers @vicmc624 @ladysparkles78

[sugar-omi]

Hope you don't mind another prompt from me, since my first one when you mentioned the hangman moment 'Growing', I thought it would be a very fun thought experiment to reverse the scene and it's gn!mc who writes the phrase down, and Cove is the one to guess it. I take hangman very seriously (bc it's my favorite pass-time activity) so I'm very quick with it but I could imagine Cove taking some more rounds to guess until he finally gets the full result. :D

tags : fluff, step 2, re-imagined "growing" moment

synopsis : you flirt with cove in a game of hangman

maybe its the heat that makes you so bold, or maybe its mistake number 5,796 that only 13 year olds can make at this time; but with cove's suggestion to play hangman, you decide to share one of your many thoughts on cove, your neighbor and crush...

you sit back down with a paper and pen in hand. "mind if i go first? since you picked the game..."

cove nods.

you hum and think for a minute, tossing back and forth ideas before you finally settle on it.

it's a bit embarrassing, and you feel a wave of heat wash over you, but you just blame it on the weather.

sketching out the lines for the hangman and your quote, you turn it around for cove to start guessing.

your heart pounds as cove starts guessing, although his first guess makes you laugh.

"z?"

you laugh for a bit, leaning on your bed as you take in cove's answer. wiping away tears you look at him with a grin. "z? wha- *laughs* what makes you guess z?"

cove smiles lazily, happy to make you laugh. he shrugs. "gotta take out the hard options."

you shake your head, drawing a shaky circle for the hangman's head. "you're silly. consider starting with vowels instead."

you pause for a moment, wondering if you're giving yourself away.

you didn't exactly think about how cove would react to the compliment once he guessed it.. would it be okay if he didn't guess it?

he'd probably ask what it was if he failed... would you tell him?

you chew your lip, startling when cove catches your attention.

"y/n?" cove tilts his body to the side, looking at you.

you smile weakly. "nevermind, just dying in this heat."

cove blinks but plays along with you, grinning as he makes a comment. "me too. i think i'm stuck to the floor now."

you throw your stuffed cat plushie at him. it didn't hurt him, the cat is the size of his hand at best. he just laughs and fluffs it into shape.

"imma have to charge you rent then." you grin wolfishly when cove asks how much. "twenty."

cove rolls his eyes, his cheeks a bit flushed as he thinks about it. "still can't believe my dad did that..."

cove looks down at the paper, telling you his answer again before you get too distracted.

you lick your lips, adding "O" to the line.

you smile at him, continuing where you left off. "yeah, it was kinda weird.." you twiddle your fingers, looking at your lap as cove takes a bite of his sandwich, thinking about his next guess as he waits for you to continue or not.

mumbling a bit, realizing the heat must have some kind of bug in it since you're so... sentimental today.

"i'm glad he did it anyway. you're not bad for twenty dollars." you smirk, trying to ignore your racing heart and covering up your fluster with jokes.

cove rolls his eyes and laughs. there's still a blush on his cheeks, your words still warmed his heart.

"good. there's no refunds." he plays along, looking at you through his lashes.

"damn. i missed the return window, huh." you curse to which cove laughs, telling you his next guess.

"p!"

you bite your lip, drawing the letter.

as you go on playing, joking and laughing as well as focusing occasionally when cove contemplates his next move.

he's... close. although not without sacrifice.

he lost the first and second round, with only 3 letters correctly guessed on the board in the first round and somehow finished the second round with 2. now it's you're third round, and his hangman is close to his end, unfortunate for him.

the hangman only has 2 legs and an arm left, and cove has finally decided to take your game seriously instead of laughing and joking with you.

you're really nervous now, since he's getting really close..

YOU A_E CU_E

cove looks confused at what it could be, but taking his former experience into account he guesses the next few letters.

"r?" cove phrases it like a question, tilting his head like a puppy.

you draw it, twisting the pencil as he takes the final guess.

"t..."

you swallow, drawing a shaky letter 'T'.

'YOU ARE CUTE'

the silence stretches between you two, and you look up from the paper to greet cove's flushed face.

he's covering his face with his hands and you look down at his lap to see his glasses are hanging off the plush cat's head.

you try to think of the plushie with glasses that actually fit, its a way to distract you as you wait for cove to respond but it just makes you blush when you realize it'd just look like cove that way...

jesus fucking christ... you drag your hand over your face. cove takes up so much of your thoughts...

you look up at him, still covering your mouth with your hand, and you mumble loudly enough for him to hear. "...a penny for your thoughts?"

cove squeaks, clearly lost in his thoughts.

it makes you happy though, since he hasn't run away it must be a good sign right?

he peaks at you from the gaps of his fingers. the shadow casted over his face makes his eyes pop, cove's brilliant blue irises making your stomach flutter with the way he looks so flustered by your written compliment.

you startle, almost missing his question.

"you mean it?..."

you blink, swallowing. suddenly your mouth feels dry... in the end you nod, and muster up a couple words.

"yeah. i do." cove squeaks at your answer.

you can't really see it, but cove's hands part in a way that allow you to see the smile forming on his face.

it makes you smile too. this is good right? you're suppose to start feelings... things. at this age, so this is okay. especially if its cove.

cove finally comes out of hiding, trading covering his face for twisting the arms of the cat plush in his lap. he must have braced himself enough to give his own compliment without hiding, at least if tilting his head down and glancing away didn't count.

"i uh... i think you're cute too..."

you're blushing, and you bite your lip to stop the elated grin from taking over your face.

yeah, this is definitely okay.

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Corrupted, chapter 23: Getting Real - a TMA x Malevolent crossover

So, here they are: facing fear-gods, and a fucked-up eater of fear-gods, and a weird Welsh heritage, and a death sentence from the devil incarnate, and… they’re flirting about it.

He likes it.

He likes Hastur.

Oh. Oh, he's in over his head.

Corrupted, a TMA x Malevolent crossover featuring Tim Stoker and the King in Yellow, chapter 23.

AO3

-----------------

One of the challenges of an emotional eruption is the tendency to feel stupid after.

Objectively, Tim knows he’s not being stupid. He’s comforted loads of people (drunk and otherwise) who felt overwhelmed and out of control, and he’s aware nobody blames him, or thinks he’s overreacting.

Jon gets him tea. It’s pointless and silly and Tim feels so… moved.

Myrddin just lets him cry it out by walking away and giving him space. Again, Tim is moved; he wanted the space, but was uncomfortable asking for it.

Elias calls back. Yeah, no. Tim doesn’t answer that.

Tim. Tim, breathe.

Tim thinks that's an excellent idea. “I need some air,” he says, sounding nose-stuffed and weary.

“Is that… safe?” says Jon.

“My gut says yes, as long as I don’t go too far, I think.”

“Well, then by all means, don’t do that,” says Jon imperiously.

Tim quashes the urge to put Jon in his pocket and smiles instead. “I won’t. Thanks.” And not remotely in the mood for searching for a door, he climbs right through an open window and away.

#

The ocean goes on forever. He can’t even see the gray horizon-line out there in the fog.

He knows Wales is over there, but weather doesn’t permit visual confirmation, and all he can see is mist and wave and sky. It’s a weirdly lonely feeling. If not for the tower right behind them, it would easily feel like they were abandoned at the edge of the world.

Simon Fairchild, he thinks, would love the view. Then he remembers Junior’s thumb mutating the horizon for a moment, and he sways, dizzy.

Are you all right?

“Super,” says Tim, leaning on his thighs and taking a minute to breathe deeply.

Hastur sounds subdued. I'm sorry, Tim.

"You pronounced those pretty good without practice," says Tim, knowing he isn't making a ton of sense.

Hastur ignores the quip. All of this is so much to ask of a human. I'm sorry.

Tim stands. Swallows. He faces the fact that a god just apologized to him—and a narcissistic, dramatic, ridiculous god, at that. Then Tim faces the fact that if he has to stand up to horrible monsters and impossible magic, he doesn't want to do it alone.

No, it's not that he doesn't want to do it alone. He wants to do it with Hastur.

More than with Danny. More than with any friend. He wants to be with Hastur through this, and he is absolutely not ready to analyze that. “I appreciate that." It's too close, too vulnerable, too real, and Tim jukes left of subject. "All this isn't how I thought my life would end, that’s for certain.”

Tim… it isn’t ending. Not for sure. There may yet be a way to save you.

Tim scoffs. “Don’t you mean us? You better mean us.”

You will have the greatest story ever told when this is through. I expect you to elaborate on my greatness.

Oh, no, Hastur didn't mean us. “Well, sure. Gonna sell the rights to Bollywood, and live off the inevitable franchise money that comes from it.”

Why Bollywood?

“Because any film of my life needs to have gaudy fun, charisma, a good sense of humor, and some baller dancing."

Hastur laughs softly. Ah… I do like you, Tim.

There’s no regret in that statement anymore. There’s an eagerness, an expectation, a focus so intense it has weight. Of course, Tim goes with it. “Kind of impossible not to imagine degenerate things when you talk like that.”

If this works, you won’t have to imagine them anymore.

Hoo, boy. So, here they are: facing fear-gods, and a fucked-up eater of fear-gods, and a weird Welsh heritage, and a death sentence from the devil incarnate, and… they’re flirting about it.

He likes it.

He likes Hastur.

Oh. Oh, he's in over his head. Oh, this is a lot. Tim swallows. "Why didn’t you say ‘us,’ Hastur?"

I’m resigned, Hastur says.

“Resigned?” Tim tries to keep it light. “To what, Bollywood?”

I’ve had a really good run—far longer than I should—thanks to raw luck.

Tim clenches his fist. “Excuse me? You're quitting?”

Don't misunderstand. I'm saying I’ve decided if I have to die because of meeting you, then… the scales balance. That’s all.

Tim stops walking.

Water whispers against the shore, steady and patient. A bird of some kind screams overhead, unseen. The smell of baked bread wafts from the tower, luring. Tim swallows. “That’s a really big thing to say, Hastur.”

I’m aware.

Tim is shaking (because it's cold, he tells himself). “First off, no, I do not approve of you accepting death. Not allowed. Practically an HSE violation. Second, that’s… not something you want to joke around with. For any reason.”

I’m aware.

Tim shakes. He nudges a loose rock with his foot. He could walk the whole island in a few hours; see the weird churchyard where (supposedly) 20,000 saints were laid to rest. See the weird apples unlike any other in the world, immune to blight. See the lighthouse. He doesn’t move. “You’re telling the truth?”

I am.

Tim’s mouth is dry.

Don’t feel like you have to respond. I didn’t say it to get a response. I… just felt it should be said.

But that's such a big thing to say. “Hey. I have a question.”

Ask.

“Why didn’t I lose another body-part after we beamed ourselves here?” Tom says, following a gut instinct.

I chose not to take it.

Tim inhales slowly. “You could’ve before?”

I’m not sure. In both other cases, I was straining for independence, we were in the middle of something wild, and I just found myself with your eye, and your hand. This time… maybe because I had control of your body, briefly, I could feel a… Hastur considers. Like a breeze from an entryway you didn’t know was there. I knew I could follow it and something would happen. I chose not to.

Tim feels pale. Hastur means it. This thing Hastur said… he means it. “Why do the scales balance, Hastur?”

Silence.

“I’m just… that’s a really big thing to say.”

I'm aware.

Tim knows how he’d take a statement like that from a human. He knows what it would mean, emotionally. It sounds like love. 

On the other hand, it's coming from a narcissistic god in hiding who’s facing death by digestion or death by Cthulhu’s great-grand-uncle, all while trapped in a mortal body, and given this, Tim has no idea what it means.

Whatever it really means, it’s a vulnerable statement, and deserves a response. “I…”

Shhh. You don’t have to answer me. I’ve been around a long time and had many lovers, and I know what I said. I didn’t say that to obligate you. I just wanted you to know.

Holy shit. Holy shit. “We're not lovers, though.”

What a strange thing to say to the god seated deep inside you.

Tom chokes a laugh. “What the hell, Hastur? Foul beast. Get thee behind me.”

Oh, I’ll get behind you, all right.

Tim laughs again, and Hastur laughs, too—a deep and quiet sound that buzzes under Tim’s skin in places that shouldn't be possible with disembodied vocal cords, but does anyway.

Damn. They're really doing this. When had the goofy flirting become real?

It is real. This is real.

It's never been real for Tim before. It's worse than fear-gods, worse than some psycho cannibal chomping his way through history. This is real.

Spooked, Tim tries to make it silly again. “Many lovers, eh? How many of those lovers knew who and what you are?”

Hastur huffs. What does that have to do with anything?

Tim grins. “Just wondering what kind of skill level I’m going to be dealing with. You could be like the CEO who thinks he’s funny because his employees all laugh at his jokes.”

Ha! They enjoyed it. I’ll have you know there is no lover like me anywhere in the world.

“That’s not necessarily a positive,” Tim quips, because that was an opening. “And I’m sure they all told you that, right? Notarized and sealed in wax, or something.”

The responses I create cannot be faked.

Tim laughs again. This game is fun. “As far as you know, anyway. Seems to me you’d need a lover who doesn't, you know, worship you to get an honest opinion.”

Are you offering? says Hastur, all honey and whiskey and incorrigible god.

(This became real when did this become real—)

Tim folds his hands behind his back. “Just making an observation.”

Well. I'm glad I could— Hastur stops.

They both feel the change. It’s like a cold breeze, but cruel, moving with intent, and Tim spins toward the horizon. There: a darkness forming in the mist, large, growing, taking so long to resolve into a recognizable shape that the fear of it surges over them, making Tim shockingly aware yet again of how isolated he is on this beach right now, out of sight of land, away from everyone and everything he’s ever known in his life, and—

Hastur’s hand pinches his bicep hard enough to bruise.

“Ow!”

Focus. I'm here. You're not alone. He can’t make us alone.

Of course. Lukas.

Somehow, when Elias said “ship,” this image had not come to mind. It moors in the distance, and its details do not come clear. It is a ghost, a phantom, a rusted and silent hulk in the gloom like nothing else remains in all the world. “Fuck me,” Tim whispers.

I think we’d best go back inside.

“Yeah,” waits Tim weakly. “Hey. Is it okay if I run?”

What do we have to lose?

That was Hasturian for let’s fucking book it, and without another word, Tim turns and bolts.

#

Myrddin seems to dislike having Peter Lukas’ ship in sight of his home. He stands at the window, squishing a slice of bread into a little ball, considering.

“Kinda need that ship,” says Tim, “in case you were, you know, thinking of scuttling it, or something. I don’t fancy trying to portal myself to wherever we’re going.”

“Mm,” Myrddin says.

“I mean, unless you have another way to get there,” says Tim.

“Oh, I do,” says Myrddin, “but I’d rather eat my own foot than go near the destination, to be perfectly honest. Not my cup of tea.” He shivers.

Well, if the wizard’s being that dramatic, then it can’t be that serious. “Not that we both don't know this is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, but I’ve got a promise to keep.”

“And many miles before you sleep?” prompts Myrddin.

“These woods don't quite have the lovely part down.”

“Dark and deep, though,” Myrddin says.

“You're not wrong.”

Beside them, Jon shivers, staring out the window.

Tim wonders if he sees something they don’t. “Maybe it’s a better idea if you stay behind.”

“No,” says Jon.

He’s using you somehow, little priest, says Hastur. Elias is doing something. You’re walking right into it.

“I don't care,” Jon snaps. “I have to… I can't… you don’t understand.”

“So help me do that?” says Tim, all too aware that a spooky lifeboat with a spooky shape that’s probably Lukas in the bow is coming their way. “Because right now, I'm seeing you taking a big risk, popping along with me, and I don’t have a reason why.”

Jon sighs. “Look. I don’t know what Elias’ role in this is, but I'm not doing any of it for him. You don’t understand. I need to know. I need to. I need see the truth with my own eyes.”

“Right, but why?” Tim frowns. “You’re not telling me something.”

Jon looks positively caught. “I am not.”

“Yeah, that’s a double-negative, boss, so you just admitted you are,” says Tim, just to be a contrary.

Jon reddens. “I swear on my honor I will swim after the blasted boat if you try to leave me behind.”

Tim is not laughing. Nope. Not at all. “You got a lot of practice swimming?”

Jon is too skinny to do a puffy kitten impression, but he manages, anyway. “I grew up in Bournemouth. I’ll have you know I am an adequate swimmer.”

Hastur laughs. Adequate!

“Perfectly satisfactory!” says Jon.

“All right, all right,” says Tim, raising his hands. “You can come on the scary ghost ship. On your head be it if it’s properly spooky and answers nothing.”

“I’m not—” John begins, and then comes a knock at the door.

Myrddin takes Tim’s hand. “I'm glad to have met you," he says. "Don’t die, hm? We can talk when you get…” And he pauses. Blinks. “Oh, my,” he says, and turns away.

“When I what?” Tim blurts. “Get back? Why would you interrupt that?”

Myrddin opens the door instead of replying. A man stands there, and he is not Peter Lukas. He is short, heavyset, with a thick, black beard and dark skin made darker by the sun. He wears a nondescript pea coat, and around his neck hangs the unique, trumpet-like shape of a boatswain’s whistle.

That whistle gives Tim the heebie-jeebies. A whistle has never given him the heebie-jeebies before.

“Well, well, well,” says Myrddin. “Tadeus. That’s where you disappeared to?”

And the man, the boatswain judging by his whistle, looks through Myrddin like the wizard isn’t there, and tilts his head toward Tim in the barest acknowledgment.

Tim feels like his eyes are very wide. "Okay, sure. Yeah, let's go."

Myrddin touches his shoulder. "Good luck," he says softly. "I think you’ll be glad in the end you made the choices you did. Yes. You will.” And he tucks something into Tim’s pocket and pushes him toward the door.

The guy—Dahl, apparently—has already turned, walking back towards that tiny boat.

Jon gulps audibly. “Thank you for your hospitality, sir.”

“Of course, of course,” says Murddin with great and sudden cheer. “We’ll talk more when you get back.”

“When he gets back?” squawks Tim, but he already knows he won’t get an answer.

Dahl isn't waiting. They both hurry after.

Myrrdin stands in the door, smiling, waving a handkerchief like a black-and-white recording of some old-timey embarkation.

Tim shakes his head. “This might as well happen,” he murmurs.

That’s an amusing reaction to horror.

“Sort of logical, really,” says Tim, hunching his shoulders against the sudden cold as he follows this Dahl. “It’s really one of those days, you know? Not much we can do about it. So this might as well happen.”

His left hand shifts slightly out of his pocket and strokes his stomach. Pragmatic. But you're not doing it alone.

Tim swallows.

Jon jogs at his heels, too close, already spooked and shit at hiding it.

They wouldn't get anything out of drowning us, would they? Tim thinks, trying not to add to the spookification.

Only Elias’s displeasure, probably, says Hastur.

“What?” says Jon. “What displeasure?”

Tim forgot Jon could hear Hastur now. “Oh. They won’t do anything nefarious to us, is all I'm saying.”

Jon looks a little pale. “Only if we actually die. There are a lot of things they could do that don't involve death."

Tim makes a face. “Well, sure, if you want to get ridiculously technical, sure.”

You can still back out, little priest.

“Look, will you just call me Jon, please?” Jon snaps. “It's my blasted name.”

Hastur chuckles. As you wish. Jon. He does something to the name, makes it intimate, magical, maybe even a little invasive.

Jon trips.

“Hastur,” chides Tim, steadying him.

What? He wants me to use his name! Names are intimate.

Tim rolls his eyes. “Sorry. Some people can't behave, apparently.”

“Fine,” mutters Jon. “It’s fine. I asked.”

Don’t go making me jealous, now, Tim thinks, still chiding.

Don’t give me reason to, says Hastur.

So.

Tim thinks two things as they follow the silent Dahl onto the rowboat. One, he's right, and their relationship is changed. It is real. Serious. They both feel it, and they really need to talk out some boundaries ASAP.

Two (speaking of boundaries), Hastur is apparently jealous of Jon?

Why?

Well. That would be one of the things they discuss. Soon.

Dahl is strong. He kicks them off the rocky shore and hops in, weirdly graceful, and begins rowing them toward that distant dark shape.

But Tim knows what he saw before. The boat moved itself. Dahl is doing this for show, and Tim can’t imagine why. Though come to think of it, there’s a weird isolation to sitting in a boat, silent, rowed by a man a;sp sitting in silence, who ignores them as completely as if they didn't exist.

[xxsycamore]

𝐉𝐄 𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐈 𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐒 . . . CHEVALIER X READER

► The stroke of midnight is soon to mark the arrival of your birthday, and all you can think about is Chevalier. He's yet to return home.

• rating: G • wordcount: 1,045 • masterlist • title taken from a namesake song by patrick watson, "I'll leave you words"

a/n: This fic is a gift for a dear friend of mine who has a birthday today (perhaps in a couple more hours in her timezone, but shhh...), @aquagirl1978 . Dear Aqua, you deserve the world, all my best wishes wouldn't be enough...thank you for being here, for all that you do for us. I'm not lying when I say that it's because of you that this place feels like home, I'm glad to have met you. I hope you can have many more wonderful moments of enjoying your favorite things, many moments of inspiration for your lovely works, many moments of laughter and many, many smiles. For starters, have a great day today, and I hope this little fic can add to the good mood! 🎉🎉🎉❤❤❤

Night has fallen over Rhodolite, draping it in its deep royal blue, a cloak of the richest kings for the town to slumber calmly underneath. It appears that this king has allowed an act of carelessness - all the gold coins from his pouch have spilled onto the sea of dark blue, rolling down far, so far that they've become miniature to the eye. Come morning, he'd send for them to be collected; right now, they're yours to admire.

The veil of clouds is thick yet you've spotted that little gap from where the tiny starts are twinkling down at you, and your gaze stays glued there as you wander off in thoughts.

You breathe in the scent of the closing page of today, and it bites back from within your lungs; the air is cold, of course it is, it's winter out there and you're wandering off into the cruel weather underdressed. This innocent little tip-toeing to the terrace is not without a reason, though admiring the night sky is more of an afterthought. You simply here with the idea that the chilly air would help awaken you a little.

Chevalier is still not back, and the clock is close to hitting midnight. You've purposely kept yourself busy until now, not wishing to go to bed without waiting for him first.

It's not that you put some sense of grandiosity to the occasion; you're not the one to demand such things, much less from your lover who has enough on his mind already. He might have forgotten even, and still you won't blame him for it - after all, you are getting something out of it. A negligible amount of selfishness, wanting for him to be the first you see on your birthday. A kiss, afterwards. You needn't even tell him, at least until the morning, when he's rested from yesterday's hardships and you can embed the thought of you in some distant corner of his refreshed mind to do with as he sees fit. You don't need lavish celebrations or all of Rhodolite's roses at your feet. A kiss after midnight will do.

You fail to suppress an yawn, despite priding yourself in having mastered that field under the stern eye of Sariel. The puff of warm air that comes with it is another waste of precious body warmth and you start missing the big and comfy bed for a whole another reason besides sleep. In record time the terrace is behind you, the dress discarded somewhere with the last remains of the coldness clinging to it - because you're already in your nightgown, all snuggled up in bed.

You hug what you call the "Chevie pillow" because of its yellow-beige tassels reminding you of his blonde hair. Having just come from outside, it's not too hard to imagine it sharing some kind of warmth with you - everything is warmer than your body right now, after all.

But with warmth comes sleepiness. As your last resort, some stubborn simpleton you are, you feel around on your nightstand for the book you've been reading. It's not some breath-hitching story able to keep you up all night as you were familiar with those, and thus you didn't pick it up sooner, but now… if you were to fall asleep, it wouldn’t be too bad to do it in the company of good book.

A distant sound of a bell comes to your ears, the stroke of midnight as you're used to hearing it. It takes a second or two even for you to realize.

You cuddle the Chevie pillow closer to your chest, imagination fast at work to paint a picture where Chevalier were able to return on time. Maybe it would've slipped from your mouth by now, you're not too good at keeping secrets. Maybe he would've given you that rare wide-eyed gaze enough to get lost in the irises of icy blue. Maybe, right after, a kiss.

It's not a sad thought, no, no, no! Now that the hands of the clock have aligned, the tension has dissipated, it seems. Now or in another hour, Chevalier is returning home, he is returning to you, he's slipping under the covers of your shared bed, and joining you in your dreams. Given that you would be dreaming by then.

Right, the book. You curl your toes under the comforter, feeling silly about the fact that you tried everything yet it was some daydreaming about your lover that finally lifted the slumber from your heavy eyelids somewhat. Taking a comfortable reading position, you open your book at the page where your bookmark faithfully waits for you.

Only, it's not the bookmark that you find there.

You take the note that was cleverly disguised as the familiar item and take a careful look at it under the light. Unfolding it, the breath refuses to come out of your lungs until you've made sure.

It's Chevalier's writing.

To the simpleton reading this well into the night,

Happy Birthday.

These two words on paper fail as a means to congratulate you, as I'd much rather be holding you in my arms right now. Even if I can tell they're most likely enough to make you smile this very moment.

Instead of waiting for me, I suggest you get some sleep. It would be best if you're well-rested for tomorrow.

Chevalier.

Tears fill the corners of your eyes, and you know the Chevie pillow will get to shine again as a replacement for the real thing, catching your tears as you bury your face in it. Instead of a coherent string of thoughts revolving around the fact that he remembered and moreover thought of such a clever way to surprise you, or the promises of the coming day, you make some kind of noise into the pillow that you're for once glad Chevalier is not around to hear and comment on. You stand like that for a moment, trying to remember how to breathe, think, anything.

You haphazardly shut the book with a thud and shove it somewhere in the nightstand, extinguishing the light and curling up onto your side clutching into your beige-colored loyal companion.

There is just one thing now.

How are you supposed to fall asleep?!

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran  @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @animeworldsposts @randomanimatedhusbandoseeker @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @pro-cat-stination @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @keen19thcenturygoatsstudent @lordsister @ikemen-banshou  @themysticalbeing @canaria-blackwell @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 ​ @ikemenlover24 @violettduchess @mcofthemansion @tiny-wooden-robot @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @atelieredux @aceuuuuu @moonstruck-writing Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[seirooo0]

Rui lacks in content so much I'm gonna strt crying, anyways take this rui x reader I made out of desperation for rui oneshots

words: 2,806 💀

plot: u sick as fuck and rui takes care of you

gn reader, use of you/your pronouns, also established relationship

What a great day it was for you— was something you wish you could've said but unfortunately, "sick days" exist (you probably forgot about them with how "healthy" you are). Spending the day doing nothing but dreading the headaches and the pain of being sick, maybe you're too dramatic that you'd fit in a theatrical scene but this is what it felt like for you. How long has it been since you last fell ill? It felt like a millennial or it's an exaggeration.

You wouldn't mind having such a day today, but it's so damn boring for you. Nothing to do all day other than resting and eating and resting, or perhaps you're into that if you're such a lazy guy. But anyone with shame in themselves wouldn't use this excuse to skip school, you're not an asshole after all. Clearly, you're worried about what's happening at school right now. Given that you had a test today, but your mother seemed persistent to make you stay in bed. Quite annoying, but it's the motherly nature in her, you can't blame her at all for worrying. Looking dully at the ticking clock, you wondered; how many hours had passed by now? With nothing to do, no sort of entertainment (you chose not to use your phone for health's sake), and you're just literally laying in bed like some sort of corpse in a coffin; motionless as hell.

And either your mom was so nosy that she had to call your boyfriend (weirdly enough, can't she just call dad or you're dadless (I'm sorry)) or one of your friends noticed that you weren't around so they called Rui in to visit you. But right now, all you know is that the purple male is right in front of you, cooking something in the kitchen. You had to drag yourself out of bed just to see who the hell entered, you would've freaked out but then you remembered your mother probably gave him the spare keys that you were looking for for the past 3 months. Standing behind him, you covered yourself in your blanket as if you're freezing to death, and you wondered if it's even enough to warm you up despite the scorching weather outside right now. Rui felt your presence almost immediately by the time you entered, and on his face he wore his signature cat-like grin (something that you always wondered; is he some sort of cat reincarnation or what) "You're awake, or perhaps you weren't sleeping at all? I heard you were sick today, so I came here just to watch over you, dear." He said, and despite his little cat-like grin, you can tell he's worried about you. "And which bastard?" "Don't call Tsukasa a bastard! Do you want me to snitch on you?" He replied with a laugh, honestly, it doesn't make a difference. You kind of wished Tsukasa pretended you existed in school today, but with how much you two hung out together you figured that won't be the case. "What about classes?" "Oh, don't worry about that, worry about yourself first." With his simple retort, you figured he might've skipped classes today just to tend you. You feel a little guilty now, but sometimes you're an ass. You kinda don't care about that, at least he's spoiling you (no shame at all, it seems). Maybe sick days aren't as bad as you thought.

"Come on now, standing up won't do at all." He said, and clearly you could feel some sort of evil teasing intent. And surely enough, without warning he lifted you up as if you're a small little thing (with his height, it's almost impossible you're not at least a few centimeters smaller than him unless) and what's worse, it's bridal style. Anyone who has no idea that you two are in highschool would mistake you two for an old married couple but Rui's uniform is still on, so that's a given. "H-Hey!" "Don't squirm around now, or else I might drop you!" The male laid you down on the sofa, which is fortunately comfortable enough to lay down on. You watched as Rui fixed the blanket for you, neatly covering you up like some sort of delicate, beautiful thing. "Now then… Hmm.. I'm less experienced with these types of things, but I assure you I'll take care of you, okay dear?" You feared he may blow up your kitchen with his limited culinary skills and with how experimental he tends to be, but right now he looks promising. You simply nodded your head, giving him a soft smile that would easily melt his heart but of course, this is Rui. You wished you would've seen him blushing a little more though. "Yeah, but isn't carrying me a little too much? I can walk, mind you." "Fufu~ I just wanted to be as close to you as possible. is that the answer you're looking for?" And like the usual you, his words managed to tug your heartstrings, enough to make you blush. His choice of words and his charm always managed to hit your heart like cupid's arrows whenever he's around. And thinking about him like this makes it feel like you guys aren't dating, that was 4 months ago dear, you already have his heart and he has yours. "Anyway, stay put alright? I'll bring you some tea and some porridge." He said, his figure slowly getting farther and farther away from you and towards the kitchen. You watched him attentively, and it's probably the sickness hitting you like alcohol but you seem to notice every little detail in your surroundings but specifically; on him. The way sunshine hits him that he seems to have come out of a beautiful photograph, his golden eyes shining in the dimly lit kitchen, you thanked the weather with how sunny it is today, otherwise you wouldn't witness such a scene. Everything feels as if it came out of a dream, that it took you a few moments to realize he's walking towards you. And like the observant little shit he is, he always seems to notice your actions the same way you take note of every detail in today's scene. "You always seem to love staring at me, don't you?" He teased, breaking you out of your dreamy reverie of him. His head tilted at an angle as he placed the tray of food on the center table, sitting down next to you. "Can you feed yourself, or would you like for me to feed you?" You can't tell if he's teasing you or if you're really high from your fever, he looked at you awaiting an answer that you can't seem to find in your head. How empty was it at the moment? I doubt you can even think straight. And for anyone who knew you as a complete stranger with no deep knowledge of each other, your prolonged staring could become off-putting. Thank the gods Rui was patient with you, but since you couldn't answer he decided to take things to his own accord. Right now, all you can see is him picking up the bowl of porridge and the spoon, you've already forgotten his question and looked at him in complete confusion. He seemed to notice that little expression on your face. "Well, it doesn't seem like you want to feed yourself. I'll do it for you instead." He said with such a smile, you can't tell if it's a cheeky one or a warm smile, all you knew is that you'd fall head over heels for him all over again like this is the first time you've seen such a man so fine (despite his awful choice of casual clothing and his eccentricity).

Bringing the spoon-full of the porridge, he brought it closer to your mouth (he made sure it's cool enough to swallow down), and with a bit of reluctance you opened your mouth and ate up the food he had offered. He seems to be pleased that you didn't deny it at all. This cycle continued on until the bowl was empty, you wondered how much time had passed because for you, it felt like hours. Handing you the cup of tea he prepared, Rui took the dirty dish and went ahead in the kitchen to wash it. Today seems calming, he wasn't acting out his usual teasing bullcrap which was a little odd. You watched him wash the dishes, weirdly enough you seem to focus on him more than anything today. And you're sure he noticed that from the moment you two had seen each other in the house. Comfortable silence engulfed the both of you as Rui worked on the dishes and you stayed on the couch, sipping the warm tea he had prepared for you. The taste of the porridge was still on your tongue, and if you were to be completely honest it doesn't taste really well. But you couldn't really voice that out, unless you're a cruel bastard or some sort of brutally honest person, regardless you kept those words to yourself. But Rui can tell you didn't like it from the moment your face contort to an expression similar to disgust, and you feel a little bad you wished you could've hid it better the same way he hides every emotion with such a calm demeanor. Upon taking your final drink of tea, you looked back at him and with perfect timing, he's done cleaning the dishes as well. Rui looked back at you while he's wiping his hands, he simply gave you a smile before walking back towards you. You're not quite used to this side of him if you were to be frank. "You act weird today." You said, and you just realized the word choice of yours. How stupid, you thought, you could've said "odd" or anything similar to that. But well, he didn't seem offended by that, rather he just gave you a simper grin as he sat down on the couch (with what's left of an empty space, since you're laying down) "Do I? I don't seem to understand what you mean, elaborate please!" That came out more unserious than what you had expected, but this is Rui after all. And it's not a heavily serious situation, both you and Rui knew that given by the light atmosphere around you two. This time, you actually took enough consideration with your words making sure no sort of misunderstanding happens "You don't seem to be— well… Rui? How do I put it into words..—" And as if he's reading your mind, he immediately replied to you with a knowing smile "You mean the usual teasing and the eccentricity everyone and you know me for?" He looked at you with arms crossed, and you nodded ever so slightly. It feels a little embarrassing to voice that out now. "Well, I figured you're not in the mood for that since you're sick. And don't I throw in some jokes for a light-hearted atmosphere? Did the sickness get to you so bad now, dear?" Oh, and the usual him is back. You smiled at his consideration, though you wanted to say he can just keep his usual teasing around, a moment like this isn't so bad once in a while. Sure, you kind of miss it (even if it's just a single day without it), but it can't be helped now, can it? You let out a chuckle "Maybe? Well, it's a natural thing I suppose." He let out a laugh as a response.

Rui's hand gently landed on your forehead, checking your temperature. He treats you so delicately that you wished it was an everyday experience. You took a mental note of getting sick again some other time for him to dote on you all over again. "Hm, your temperature is still high… I'll go get a wet cloth for you." That was the last thing he said before standing up and leaving you behind. Sounds sad doesn't it? Don't be so gloomy now, he just went to the bathroom to get a basin and a cloth to soak it in water. Generic first fever kit, the same way your mother always does, don't you know that? But knowing you, you're a clingy bastard towards him. It's not a surprise you'd like to be near him almost all the time. And it just became worse with your fever putting you in such a silly little goofy mood that you don't want him to leave at all. Oh, and while you're doing your little monodrama, he just came back and it hasn't even been an hour. Yeah, this is all the work of your fever, sure. And you're not quite sure what kind of expression you were making, but Rui looked at you in amusement (kinda worrying, don't you think?) "Is my brief disappearance such a huge problem that you'd be making an expression beyond describing?" Frankly, you wished he wasn't such a teasing type of guy, but here's the situation you ended up in. You looked at him with a cranky expression and he simply laughed as a response. Watching him place down the small basin on the table, you wondered if this was even necessary at all if you were the type to just sleep off an entire fever and wake up all healthy again. His hands squeezed out any excess water on the cloth before placing it on your forehead, the coolness was enough to make you relax as you let out a soft sigh. He looked at you with a small smile on his face before placing his hand on your head, "Get better soon, otherwise I might start missing you at school." he said, grinning playfully. You laugh at his little statement, kicking him playfully (since he sat by your legs). "Hey, hey!" "I'll be back in no time, I'm a healthy person after all unlike you." You joked, earning a little laugh from the man himself. Rui looked at you with a little coy smile before placing a hand on your head "Well, even so who knows if it'll be worse," He started as he planted a fleeting little kiss on your cheeks, enough to make you flush from surprise. "That's why I want to make sure you're alright so long as you're in my care, dear." His sudden endearment was a sure surprise for you. It doesn't mean he doesn't show any affection though, don't get me wrong, but to see him with such an expression full of genuine love and worry for you is such a dreamy scene. You wished you could see this almost everyday if possible. Sure, you miss his little antics, his teasing, but having something like this for compensation isn't so bad after all. You smiled at his little declaration, letting out a giggle, "I'll be alright, after all my dear Rui Kamishiro is taking care of me." You said, cringing a little at your choice of words. He seems to take that excellently, letting out a soft laugh before his hand (that was previously on your head) breaks contact. Oh how you wished it lasted a little longer.

"Then I'll let you rest, you can call me if you need anything.." He said, standing up and beginning to walk away and as if you were possessed by some unknown force, your hand reached for his, stopping him in his tracks. He looked at you, a little confused and curious. Gathering enough of your thoughts to construct a coherent sentence, you spoke out with what's left of your shame. Is it too much to ask if you simply wanted to be with him? "Stay with me for a little longer.." You managed to speak out after a moment of awkward silence. Rui looked at you, not reacting whatsoever. That simple action made you a little worried that subconsciously, you let go of his hand. But it didn't seem like that was his plan, as he immediately grabbed it again the moment you break contact with it. "No need to act so shy about it, why are you acting as if we're not dating?" He laughed out, before sitting on the floor, next to your face. It may be a way to tease you, perhaps, or he simply wants to be near you as possible. Either way, you smiled at his little gesture of endearment. "Thank you." "Anything for you, dear." Those were the last words you heard from him, drowsiness hitting you like a truck as you slowly fell into dreamland.

And as for how Rui is going to explain this to your mother if she ever found out he skipped school just to tend you, you can find out about that in another time.

I can't take it anymore doggey

[iisasarcasticlittleshite]

hmmmm since you said you were looking for ideas and it's summertime what about swimming as a prompt? which of em are good at it, which of em narrowly avoid drowning, which one is the one in the group that say they don't need sunscreen and burns, ect. ect. (i already know hinata learned his lesson early on about sunscreen, UV rays don't come to play with gingers 💀)

Thank you for the idea! This was thrown together pretty quick and I'm happy with it since some of these characters are a little outta my comfort zone, hope you like!

Oh, Hinata knows the sun is killer, you won't catch him missing his sunscreen. It is still Hinata though so he's prone to forgetting to reapply, especially if he's playing beach volleyball.

On really hot days, he'll set a timer to do it so he doesn't burn, which results in him having the best tan on the team. Give him two weeks of shity weather though and he's right back to pale.

He's an absolute water baby, diving under waves and plowing out to see, he's good at avoiding stronger currents and stays out of them, but honestly, swimming's just an awesome cooldown workout in summer.

Atsumu's a decent swimmer, tries to play strong man with the sun, until he starts to feel his skin burning, so he'll slap on sunscreen in a hurry and miss the back of his shoulder or something, so he ends up with the weirdest sunburn pattern ever.

Hinata won't ever let him hear the end of his "bunny" shaped red patch right in the middle of his side.

Miya serves as a warning for Bokuto, who religiously reapplies sunscreen every two hours without fail. He tracks down the most thoughrough person in whatever group he's in and asks them to do his back for him.

Sometimes though, he'll get caught up in volleyball, and oh boy does he burn. He's a huge baby about it, pouts constantly until someone rubs aloe on it for him and makes it feel momentarily better.

He ends up in a lot of water races with Hinata, so he's a good swimmer...most of the time. Let's be honest, Bo's a wall of muscle, the second he stops concentrating, man sinks like a stone.

Bold of anyone to assume Sakusa will be exposing any kind of skin to the sun. Man is covered until the temperature hits the high thirties, with sun block on underneath, never anything less than 50 spf.

He won't, or can't go anywhere near a shared body of water, trying to throw him will result in death. On one occasion, he can be convinced to go into a highly chlorinated private pool, but it was forty so no one blamed him.

Kageyama puts sunscreen on when he leaves the house, and that's it. Doesn't even think about reapplying, even if he spends all day in the sun. Poor man's not used to the outdoors, he's an inside boy.

He can swim, but don't get him competitive, he forgets he has to keep his head above water at the same time as moving forward.

[tfyoulookingatgiuxs]

Troubles

Steve Harrington x Soft!Reader

(𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 2 OF CLASS FIGHT. MASTERLIST -> HERE )

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: You came home in tears because of Steve's rejection. Despite the consolations, problems begin to reveal themselves, but a curious event has brought the famous Steve Harrington and the spoiled Kelly White into big trouble. This was just the beginning of a long punishment.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: +18!! MDNI!! Blurb, sex, bullying, crying, use of Y/N, your surname is Williams, fem!reader, soft!slightyandere!reader, stalking, humiliation, bad language, alcohol.

𝐀/𝐍: Someone request me for part 2, and i was thinking if this could it be a miniseries. Sooo maybe i can even make a part 3. What do you think? Stop the story here o make another part? Let me know in the comments. Sorry for my english, this is not my native language. Please support and reblog! Hope you enjoy this one! (DIVIDER NOT MINE)

You came home with tears streaming down your cheeks.

The weather wasn't the best and as beautiful a day as it was, it turned out to be worse than you thought.

It also started to rain and you ran to get to your house faster. You arrived and knocked on the door. Your mother opened the door for you and yelled a “Y/N!” seeing you in that desperate state. Your father also joined you immediately afterwards and you told your dear parents what happened.

Needless to say, they both empathized with you and consoled you as best they could, and of course criticized Steve Harrington as arrogant and disrespectful.

You couldn't blame them, Steve despite being a nice guy and a gentleman, wasn't even kind to you and didn't even care about how you felt after his rejection, trampling on your feelings without hesitation. A few tears were still present on your face as your mother was busy wiping them away.

The doorbell rang, interrupting that tearful moment "Who is it now?" Your father grumbled, not seeing what could be more important than comforting his own heartbroken daughter. You leaned over to look and as soon as the man opened the door he found himself in front of two adult figures with an umbrella. A woman and a man. The woman was quite young, while the man was definitely middle-aged.

"Do you need something?" Your father asked not knowing the two.

"Are you Mr. Williams?" The man asked. Your father nodded.

"Well, we're here to talk about your daughter!" The woman said angrily, while the rain was so loud that you had little understanding.

After a while you heard your father getting angry at the two and ordering them to leave. The commotion continued and your mother didn't know what to do and then the sound of the door slamming and silence.

"Who was?" Your mother asked as your father returned to sit in front of you "Two parents apparently came here to complain about the fight between Y/N and their daughter at school" he said it as if he cared at all. You obviously told your parents what you did to Kelly, and knowing how dramatic the little bitch was for even a single scratch, you certainly weren't surprised if her parents came to complain. But at the same time you were worried. Your parents loved you, it's true, but you didn't want to get them into trouble. Kelly's father has two businesses and her family is very rich and obviously she is very spoiled. You were afraid that parents would do everything they could to make their daughter happy, thus destroying those who had hurt her, therefore you and your family.

Maybe you were just traveling with your imagination, but you had to calculate every possible situation.

"I knew it wasn't a good idea" your mother expressed placing her hands on her hips "It doesn't matter, our Y/N did well, no one makes fun of my daughter" You smiled at your father's words feeling loved but you let out a "I'm sorry..." and your parents hugged you, causing a few more tears of joy to escape. You wanted to fix it. Not because you felt guilty about what you had done to Kelly, but because of them. Having to deal with or just compete with the parents of a spoiled slut wasn't the best, and that's why you wanted to try to fix things.

"No my daughter, leave it to us. You've already had a bad day with that punk Harrington, so go and rest." Your father suggested and your mother intervened immediately after "Exactly. You don't have to fix anything, we we'll take care of it darling." You nodded feeling a warmth in your chest and went to your room after thanking them with all your heart.

You stayed locked in your room all day thinking about what happened. Only now do you realize all the anger you should have felt and the sadness of Steve's mean words. He had never acted like this towards you and you still can't believe he defended Kelly White. All of this kept going through your head and you needed to clear your head. You walked around your room a bit and found your camera on the desk.

You and your father have always loved photography, so much so that every spring afternoon you went around the woods to photograph animals or simple landscapes. That memory made you want to get some fresh air, even if it was late at night. It was dinner time, so you decided you would go out later.

It was late in the evening, and you had already slipped out of the house to take your photo walk. From the smallest animals to the most beautiful plants, up to the same moon that illuminated Hawkins Woods. And there you were, your sweet figure under the moon as you looked up at the sky as if you were hypnotized. Then a scream.

You were alarmed and ran to check. You rushed towards a house and saw a large bright pool and a large house. The cause of the scream was not a danger, but a girl who was having fun with alcohol with a boy. Wait a moment...

It was Kelly and Steve.

What an embarrassing sight. You thought as you saw the two alone drinking and laughing at their own jokes. Apparently there was no one in the house besides them, no friends or parents.

You saw them smile and Kelly didn't look sad at all about the class fight today. Stupid bitch. You thought, looking at her figure with disdain. To think that her parents had come to complain about how her state had been hurt and damaged, but Kelly didn't look anything like a girl who had been beaten that day. You realized how even more of a liar and manipulative this girl was. What's more, Steve was on her side, even though he knew her. Your heart was more and more hurt, you no longer recognized him, he wasn't the Steve you had known, but someone different.

After a while you saw Steve lying on the lounger near the poolside and Kelly approaching him with sensual movements. You didn't understand what they were saying but you were shocked as soon as you saw Kelly undressing and Steve doing the same thing with a hungry look. You stood still like a stone statue as Harrington took off his pants showing his hard cock "Just saying, no one has to know about this White" you managed to hear from Steve and she nodded showing off her huge breasts. The rest was just obscene. Kelly bouncing on Steve's cock as he moaned.

You wanted to leave. You wanted to run away and cry at what you had seen. But you didn't...you felt not only sad but empty. You were shocked but furious. This was too much. You thought at some point. Your expression didn't change, still neutral as you watched the sex scene. You took the camera hanging around your neck and started shooting. You don't even know how many you did, but you had to do a lot.

You couldn't accept it. Steve Harrington had sunk so low, just to satisfy his need to fuck someone. Had it been clear that he hadn't had sexual acts with his ex's, and therefore he had let himself go to a bitch like Kelly White? Oh no. This was seriously too much. The pieces of the puzzle had started to fit together as soon as Kelly, after reaching her orgasm, said "I didn't think King Steve would want to have sex with me so much" and the boy's response was confirmation "Well, I even rejected Williams for which, so you will also give me a second round" the anger increased and you definitely wouldn't sleep that night at the thought.

Steve had rejected you not because he didn't love or despise you, but for the simple fact that he wanted to have sex with Kelly and therefore do anything to lick her pussy, and then maybe make excuses to you after he was done playing with his sex toy.

Kelly laughed and they both, as told by Steve started having sex again. You didn't want to witness another gross scene like that, so you headed home with plenty of photos on hand.

It was early in the morning, school hadn't opened yet. You had snuck in holding thousands of photos taken the night before. You would have done it. Now you had to do it. They had trampled on your heart by hurting you, and now, you were going to humiliate them in front of the entire school.

You hung the photos on classroom doors, on some chalkboards around the school, and on some lockers, especially Kelly and Steve's. You threw the rest in front of the front doors, so that everyone would see the true nature of Steve Harrington and the curious services of the rich and hated Kelly White.

You still don't know if Steve had ever truly loved you, but if he had, he would have immediately crawled to your aid, begging you to help him and forgive him. Otherwise he would suffer his punishment and become the laughing stock of the entire Hawkins High. This was just the beginning of your revenge towards Kelly and Steve, now nicknamed by you "The one who fucked Kelly the bitch". You left a photo of him with this written on it so you could ridicule him more.

Now satisfied with your work, you left school, paying attention to possible witnesses. Now the trouble would begin.

[maconthepen]

What a bagel taught me about how to live.

There's a small grocery shop at the end of my street.

When I say small, I mean tiny. In fact, I often avoid it on Saturdays. Not being the smallest person in stature, I tend to get stuck awkwardly on boxes of fruit the owners haven't unpacked. All would be forgiven and fine if not for the withering stares of the designer activewear crowd who, like circling sharks, single me out as Not One of Their Own. Saturdays just aren't made for that kind of negativity, so I tend to make myself scarce.

But the staff in the shop are lovely and they pride themselves on stocking the best baked goods in the area. Specifically, their bagels. It's no word of a lie. Those bagels stand tall and proud, whether they're plain, poppyseed, sesame, or blueberry. If a food had a sixth sense that it was about to be bought and devoured, these bagels would have it. If I were to get hopelessly anthropomorphic about it, I'd say they exuded smugness. I can't blame them. Were I that perfectly formed, I'd be smug too.

The kicker is that they aren't stocked every day, and today I really, really wanted one. I wanted to pile it high with cream cheese and salmon and to garnish it with care, like it came from a cafe. The idea fixated itself as soon as I was awake, and I couldn't stop thinking about it.

The grocery shop was bagel-less.

Instead, trying to delude myself into believing I could salvage the situation, I went to my local chain supermarket and bought a subpar pack. Little did I know how subpar they would be. My lunch in the picture above looks amazing — and its toppings were exceptional — but underneath was a blasphemous affair. These were the worst bagels I'd bought in my life. They were small and dense and probably overbaked, and I missed the high, chewy, pillowy goodness of the ones from down the street.

Make no mistake: I ate, and I was grateful for the food, but this exceedingly ordinary experience taught me a lesson I've been halfway to learning in the past few weeks:

Everything has its season.

I'm still learning to go with those seasons. A long bout of depression has meant that, for months, I haven't been especially keen on leaving the house. I've delegated all grocery shops to delivery services from major supermarkets, and when the fresh produce that arrived in stiff paper bags seemed bland and tasteless, I assumed it was the fault of my taste buds.

Little did I know, until I started on antidepressants and began going to counselling again, how fine a thing it was to wander out into the world — to the market, the park, the small grocery shop down the street — and really see what was there. To smell the in-season fruit. To taste air that wasn't stale. To buy bagels one day and almond croissants the next, because that's what the world is offering up, and it was finite, so I'd best enjoy it while it lasts. I've been cooking with the weather again, taking care to make soup on cold days and face-meltingly spicy, fresh salads when the sun is out.

I've been caring for myself better, but I have also been caring more about the world. In doing so, the world and I feel back in sync. The people in it feel closer. About a week ago, buoyed by all the new conversations I've been having with people, I realised that I didn't know the name of the man who owned the grocery shop along the street. For years, surrounded by a fog of my own brain's making, I hadn't asked.

It turned out his name was Dan. He asked mine in return, and I told him.

"You're lucky this morning," he said, smiling his usual warm and genuine smile. "That's the last of the sesame ones."

Then, as I was leaving the shop, he called: "Oh, I nearly forgot! You're a Swans fan, aren't you? Good luck today."

Bewildered, I turned back around to face him. It was footie finals season. I wasn't wearing my team's scarf, but I had been some months ago when I dropped in for a packet of chips on the way to the game. I'd been in and out of the shop in thirty seconds, but Dan remembered the scarf all the same.

I felt the hot sting of guilt return. I couldn't believe I'd never asked his name.

But then I recalled a visit on a freezing June day. Dan, nameless back then, had been rubbing his hands together near a small space heater under the counter. He'd been wearing a black and white hat.

I ventured, "We might be playing the 'pies next week. Here's to both our teams making it through."

He nodded. "Sounds like the perfect occasion for a loaded bagel and a beer."

It was a Saturday. I wish I could say the activewear crowd parted like the red sea, but they just looked on, as impatient as ever as I left through the shop's sliding door. The sun was out. It was a beautiful day — the kind that still felt like a novelty after a long winter — and I realised I didn't give a shit what anyone thought of me. I had Dan's name and his bagels, and my life was in a season of joy.

[spoiledlemonsbiggestfan]

SORRY I DISAPPEARED

Hello there! It has been way too long since i updated you guys on how i've been doing, and i've probably only got myself to blame on this one. But i have FANtastic news to share! (get it? Cus i'm fan? Genious, i know.) I finally managed to get a job! And a decent one this time, no more cleaning mediocre school halls for me! (Horrayyy!)

So this entire hiatus hasnt been for nothing, i've been very hard at work finally being able to persue the thing i love the most, writting! Now i can officially call myself a journalist instead of an amature blogger. The self-improvement sure is real, love to see it. Sadly, I am constantly restricted from putting my heart and soul onto the paper in favor of transmitting what could be classified as useless information to whoever is bored enough to watch the news. And that constant restrain has made me miss the days of the good ol' Fan blog, so i guess you could say that's the reason i'm here. I've missed writting whatever i want to without the need to always double or triple check my work, its fun to not worry if every single word i type fits into my current streams of thought and stuff like that. But you don't wanna hear about all of that do you? You wanna hear about the funny stories! The authentic work experience i have gained! Atleast i hope so, because if not then youre probably in the wrong blog. But if that IS what you came here for, bluckle up bukaroo because im about to tell all about the working woes and friendly foes!

First off the job aplication process was VERY off-putting, my 2 future bosses took care of the interview and they asked... odd questions. They were also always a little too...rude. But thats ok! Nothing that i havent already handled. On the job i have met some interesting personalities such as suitcase! (I was given permission to state her name, duh) suitcase is very kind and funny, but she also has social anxiety, which is weird considering she is one of the few reporters we have, the type that usually goes out, interviews others and deals with harsh weather conditions for some reason. Suitcase is always busy going from one place to another so she can grab the needed fotage, and since im normally the one who writtes her scripts, i get to go with her sometimes! The news channel utilises this totally not ominous and cramped mini-van to cary all of the needed equipment and people. Surprisingly enough, my supervisor is the one who drives the van! She's quite chill, her voice is so smooth that i have to stop myself from yawning when i'm around her. Dont get on her bad side though, i once saw her almost yell at our make-up artist. Speaking of that, they both have some weird relationship going on, i genuinely have no idea if they are friends or enemies and at this point i am too scared to ask suitcase about it.

Working there is pretty chill, i tecnically dont need to phisically be there but hey, a bit more of social interaction wouldnt hurt. Besides, i wouldnt have met suitcase if i only sent my scripts via e-mail! So its a win-win! What else do i have to say abt work? Hmmm.... oh yea! I have a funny story to share!

On my first few days, suitcase told me that the make-up artist was an extreme chatter-box that preferably likes to "spill the tea" on everyone. But if you've been following this blog for a while now, you'd know that im not really good with understanding these types of frases, so for the longest time i thought that this guy actually spilled tea on people on porpose. (he looks really refined, so i just assumed he would be the kind of guy to like tea) So i, being extremelly cautious to not get tea on my lovely red paper, avoided him for like 5 days straight! He eventually caught on and complained to suitcase about it, she then told me so, and i explained my conundrum to her. After she explained what the frase actually meant, we couldnt stop laughting! I never actually apologised to the guy, i sure hope he doesnt hold grudges!