#i have not eaten this good in five years

[melis-hellis]

y'all don't understand how goddamn happy i am....i love smiling friends!!!!!! i love smiling friends so so so so sooo much

[crescentmp3]

went outside today! was quite fun ^^

[laurasimonsdaughter]

Picture this: Dragons using their caves to age cheese. Dragon Cheesemakers!!

The dragon coiled his enormous body, completely blocking the entrance of the tunnel that lead to the caves.

“No,” he snarled, smoke pluming from his nose.

The cheesemonger pinched the bridge of her own nose. “Look, I explained this to you at the start,” she tried once more. “I make cheese.”

“Yes,” the agreed, nodding his scaly head.

“Then I bring the cheese here.”

“Yes.”

“Then you store all the cheese in your cave, keeping it at the perfect temperature and humidity.”

“Yes.” He sounded particularly proud of this part.

“And then when the cheese has ripened,” she concluded. “I come to pick the cheese up again.”

A thunderous scowl clouded his maw. “No.”

“But that’s how it works!” she cried in exasperation. “I make the cheese, you store the cheese, I sell the cheese, I make more cheese!” She peered up at him. “You do realise I cannot bring you new cheese until I have sold this cheese.”

The dragon considered this for a moment. “Ah, but what if—” he began. “What if you go and make more cheese. And bring me the cheese. And I put it in my cave, with the rest of the hoard. And then I keep it there forever.”

“No,” she said flatly.

It was remarkable how much a dragon could look like it had just swallowed a lemon.

“You can’t keep cheese forever,” she insisted. “It will spoil and go bad!”

“You said it would get better and better!” the dragon roared indignantly. “And I take good care of them! With the air flow and the humidity and the temperature!”

“And that is great,” she said, trying to smile through her frustration. “But when a cheese is ripe, it’s ripe! Then you should not be kept anymore, it should be eaten.”

The dragon scraped it’s formidable claws against the stony ground and sulked.

“Look…” The cheese mongering business did not tend to require a lot of sweet-talking, but she was making an effort. “I’m sure the cheeses that aged in your cave are the best cheeses people have ever tasted. When they find out how delicious they are they will want us to make loads more. Maybe several caves’ worth!”

The reptilian eyes stared at her with disgruntled, reluctant interest. “Several caves?”

“If we’re lucky! And I could make so much cheese that I could bring you new cheese as soon as I pick up the aged cheese. Your cave would never even be empty!”

This seemed to strike a chord. The dragon lifted his head a little.

“And that would really be much better for the rest of your hoard,” she continued with fresh inspiration. “Because if you leave cheese too long, it might go bad and spoil the cheeses next to it too!”

A nervous ripple went through the beast’s scaly body, but he clearly was not convinced just yet. “But what sort of a hoard is it if I have to give it away,” he complained.

“Well! Cheese is not just any old hoard! It’s a developing creation! And you will have a hoard that is constantly developing too. Constantly changing, but, if we do this right, never shrinking.”

The dragon looked at her solemnly, wavering with uncertainty. Perhaps she shouldn’t hold it against the poor thing, it must be a difficult concept to wrap his head around.

“And I will tell you what,” she said encouragingly. “If business is good, I can start investing in some really good crumbly cheeses. You can keep those in your cave for five whole years!”

“That is quite a long time for humans, is it not?” he said, sounding a little more cheerful.

“Very long. Especially when it comes to cheese. Cheeses that have been aged that long are very expensive.”

In retrospect, she should perhaps have led with that. Gourmand or not, a dragon was still a dragon after all. A glittering, toothy grin appeared on her recalcitrant business partner’s shout and he moved just enough for her to move past him into the mountain.

“Tell me more about this expensive cheese that crumbles.”

She hid a smirk. “If you help me carry some of the current ones out, it would be my pleasure.”

[eglerieth]

Some of y’all are not appreciating Bilbo Baggins enough. I am here to remedy that. This guy has:

• somehow managed to establish himself as a respectable, staid hobbit by the time he was fifty, despite being both a grandson of Bullroarer Took and the Shire champion of pretty much every aiming-game known to hobbitkind

• had an in-depth debate on pleasantries with a random guy passing by in the street, who turned out to be GANDALF

• collapsed in front of his own fire shaking and muttering “struck by lightning” over and over again in response to hearing about dragons and danger

• mind you, this was after he screamed loud enough to startle a roomful of Dwarves

• signed up for a dangerous quest completely outside of his league out of spite

• when told to scout out a mysterious light, saw some trolls, and instead of reporting back with the information, decided to PICK THE TROLLS POCKET

• arrived in Rivendell for the first time and said it “smelled like elves”

• upon meeting a strange creature that visibly wanted to eat him, he decided to play a riddle game with him- and guessed pretty much every one, and made up his own riddles, afraid and alone, that not only were good and full of linguistic puns, but actually stumped the other guy- AND THEN CHEATED AND WON WITH A QUESTION

• showed mercy to said strange creature who wanted to kill him, and was now standing between him and freedom

• eavesdropped on the dwarves arguing over whether to try to save him, then popped up casually smack in the middle of them just as they were debating

• somehow managed to sleep like a log at the really really high eyrie full of wild predators

• found himself in a bad situation, said eff it, and turned around and antagonized and fought off an insane amount of man eating spiders, like enough of them that fifty was a small portion, by singing at them with incredibly complex and punny insulting songs composed on the spot, while simultaneously slaying them in multitudes despite having zero combat training. Seriously, we don’t discuss enough how epic the spider scene is.

• broke a company of dwarves out of the very secure prison of the Elvenking by inventing white water rafting with barrels

• charmed his way out of being eaten by a dragon

• stole the frickin Arkenstone from the guys who employed him, one of whom was a king

• took part in an epic battle, only to be knocked out in the first ten minutes and miss the entire thing

• was named elf-friend by the guy who’s prisoners he sprung

• wrote his own autobiography, complete with all the narrative recognition of his own heroics

• spent 60 years writing said autobiography

• taught his lower class neighbor’s kid how to read

• taught his nephew Elvish- not only Sindarin, but Quenya too

• spent decades telling his cousins his own story as fairy tales, complete with character impressions accurate enough that one of them was able to fool a servant of the Enemy with a second hand impression

• used the One Ring of Power to hide from his neighbors

• planned an elaborate feast with multiple social faux pas to mess with his neighbors, complete with a purposefully bewildering speech and culminating in him vanishing into thin air in front of everyone

• left his cousins and neighbors very unsubtle passive aggressive gifts in his will

• settled into Rivendell, randomly befriended the heir to the throne of like half of Middle Earth, and apparently spent his time writing very personal poems about his hosts and reciting them to crowds of elves

• after being invited to a Council of basically every major kingdom in the continent, spent a quarter of the time reciting vague poems about his friends, a quarter of the time telling anyone who would listen about his heroic past, and half the time interrupting to ask when lunch would be

• volunteered to bring the ring to Mordor

• became one of only four or five mortals in history to live in Valinor

Seriously, Bilbo Baggins may well be the most chaotic, insane person in the entire legendarium, and that includes the likes of people like Finrod “bit a werewolf to death to save the life of guy who he just met and gave up his kingdom for” Felagund.

[luveline]

hiiiiiiiii jade! <3

would you be willing to write a fic about girl dad!spencer x bombshell!reader? i can only imagine what an adorable riot their daughter would be!!!

tysm!

ty for requesting!! mom!reader

Spencer always thought you were too beautiful for him. Too funny, too brave, too confident. For years he feared he’d never be anyone you could love; he was the opposite of all your best parts, he talked too much about the wrong things, he went red whenever you so much as looked at him, and he couldn’t flirt back, not for anything. 

But it’s been a very long time since he felt that way. What good is a father who doesn’t believe in being yourself? Amanda deserved to be loved from the moment she drew breath, and he shouldn’t have been any different. 

Now, though, he’s wondering if he shouldn’t be so accepting of all her whims. “I am not wearing that, daddy,” she says. 

She’s just old enough to put together sentences but young enough that the individual words sound like building blocks, chunky and clumsy on her little mouth. Her lips are yours, her smiles and frowns one hundred percent you. (Though you argue with him often that the quizzical pout she does is all his.)

“What do you mean, angel?” he asks, bent over her sock drawer looking for a matching pair. 

“This is pink, and this is purple.” She points. 

“Yes, and you like pink and purple!” 

“I like pink… and I like purple,” she says. 

“But not together?” he asks knowingly. “You want them at different times, is that it?” 

She runs for his legs, hugging them tightly. “Thank you.” 

“You’re so much like your mommy it’s scary,” he whispers playfully, leaning down to pat her small back. “Okay, angel. I’ll find you a different dress to wear. Or maybe the dungarees!”

She lifts her chin up to smile at him. “Y’okay.” 

“Spencer, Amy!” you call, voice carrying from the kitchen. “Are you guys ready? We have to go soon and you haven’t even eaten!” 

Spencer used to sit at his desk daydreaming about you. He’d drink five cups of tea a day to get to walk past you for the kitchenette, hoping you’d be making a coffee, that you’d flirt with him over corporate rewarded donuts. Now you’re making him breakfast as he persuades your daughter into jelly shoes because she wants tall shoes like mommy. They compromise —Any will wear the wrong shoes if Spencer agrees to carry her to the kitchen table. 

“Sorry,” Spencer says as he pushes open the door into the kitchen. He's trying to be the best dad he can be all the time, but he doesn’t have a knack for the mornings like you do. “We won’t be late.” 

“That depends on how agreeable my lovely girl is feeling today.” You pick up the pink plastic plate you’ve filled with eggs, toast, and a mix of washed berries. “What do you think, Amy? Looks nummy?”

“Chocolate chip?” she asks, eyes already widening. 

“It’s breakfast, honey,” you say, scooping her out of Spencer’s arm to carry her to the table. “Chocolate chips are for dinner.” 

“Please?”

“If you promise to be really super duper good at Uncle Derek’s, then yes, you can have some chocolate chips,” you say, tucking her chair in, and kissing her chubby cheek. “You want me to make you milk or juice, mm?”

Spencer spots the two plates you’ve made up for you and him on the counter and quickly brings them to the table, sliding yours in front of you with a long-pronged fork, his hand on your shoulder to keep you in your seat. “I’ll get it,” he says, ducking down to kiss you on the side of the mouth. 

You turn to Amy. “See that, sweetheart? See how nice and kind your daddy is to me? He’s soooo nice. This is why we love him so much, and we appreciate him so much.” 

Amy nods emphatically, blueberries tumbling off of her plastic fork. “So much,” she echoes, her voice like melting sugar. 

He has a weird moment by the fridge where he has to grip the handle. “You know I used to dream about making you a cup of coffee in the mornings?” he asks. 

“Spencer, come over here and kiss me again, please,” you say, sympathetic and fond.

“Me too!” Amy says through fruit. “Me first.” 

“Oh, gosh, this is one of the hardest decisions of my life,” he says, sweeping in to dot your cheeks with kisses, hers then yours, three apiece.

[emeritusemeritus]

Breed like Gnomes [Fred Weasley]

Title: Breed like Gnomes.

Pairing: PregnantWife!Reader x Fred Weasley

Timeline: Set after Canon (Fred lives!)

Summary: At Ginny and Harry’s wedding, you find yourself facing Aunt Muriel’s unpleasantness, so Fred decides to have some fun.

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, babies, sexual references.

Word count: 1.2k

June 4th 2003, a joyful and long awaited day for all in attendance. The marriage of Harry Potter and Ginevra Weasley. It was a family affair, both in blood and bond, the entire venue packed with loved ones sharing in the happiness of the newlyweds.

Being Ginny's long standing friend and now sister-in-law, you were naturally made a bridesmaid along with six others who proudly stood by Ginny's side as she said her vows. It was beautiful, joyous and utterly heartwarming to see them unite and be declared husband in wife in front of the many people attending. The couple had initially wanted a much smaller affair than what had transpired but in the end, they were too deeply cared for by so many and the numbers were ever increasing, only made worse by Molly's excitement and welcoming nature.

It had been a truly magical day; getting to support your new sister in law, to see your daughter throw wild flowers down the aisle and most of all getting to check out your husband in his tux as he sat beaming beside his twin brother in the front row, holding back a tear at seeing his little sister suddenly looking so grown up.

"You alright sweetheart?" Fred asks worriedly as you lower yourself gently into your assigned seat inside the bustling marquee. It was getting late now, the party stretching into the night as people danced merrily around you.

You were exhausted from the day, the early morning, the usual nuptial stresses and from the shoes that were growing increasingly uncomfortable around your slightly swollen ankles.

You simply smiled warmly at Fred with a little nod, leaning into his touch when he placed his arm behind you on your chair, his fingers fidgeting with the strands of hair that had fallen down your back.

You both turned your heads in the direction of delighted squeals and watched as your children danced around, chasing each other and their many cousins with beaming smiles on their faces. Their nice outfits were quite frankly ditched at this point and they'd eaten more cake than you cared to admit throughout the day but as you looked at the three happy faces on the dance floor, you couldn't care less. Their uncle George took turns spinning and twirling them and you couldn't help but watch in devotion at seeing your oldest dancing with your brother in law, no doubt standing on his feet as he glided her around whilst the twins ran in circles around the dancing pair.

You let out a little surprise gasp when you felt a sharp kick to your side, just underneath your rib.

"I thought you were asleep," you say quietly with a loving smile as your hand drifts down to your blooming bump, gently rubbing over the spot where you'd felt a little prod.

"Letting you know he's there?" Fred asks with a smirk, noticing your movements. He moved closer and places his large hand over yours, wanting to feel for himself the little kicks that had you smiling at your bump.

"He?" You question sarcastically, with a slight raise of your eyebrow.

"Fathers intuition," Fred smirks with a slight shrug, "never been wrong yet."

"You didn't know there were two last time," you countered teasingly, nodding your head towards the two litttle boys causing havoc on the dance floor. He lets out a boyish chuckle and for a moment you both catch each other's eyes, both twinkling in delight and bound with love. You'd been married for nearly five years, together for much longer but it still took your breath away how much you loved this man, and how much he loved you in return.

"Good heavens!"

The nice moment passed as soon as the loud, screechy voice sounded out on the next table, forcing you apart. You jumped slightly at the unexpected noise before realising that Fred's great aunt Muriel had taken up a seat at the table beside yours and as usual her presence was unwanted. Her voice went through you, like nails on a chalkboard. The high tone and the derogatory, unpleasant undertone to her words, accompanied by the constant hateful look on her face were enough to cement a negative association in your mind. Both you and Fred deflated a little at her presence, with Fred letting out an audible sigh that you felt in your soul. Even your baby let out a sharp kick as if to announce their own displeasure at the sound of her voice.

"Yes aunt Muriel?" Fred says in the most monotone voice he can muster, not even attempting to hide the dismay in his voice, or his face.

"Godric," she mumbles under her breath, casting her eyes between the two of you, focusing her beady eyes on your bump, and where your children were currently hanging off George like monkeys in a tree. "You breed like gnomes!"

You hope your face doesn't show the depth of your exasperation at her words but you doubted your ability to keep a straight face. Fred, of course, finds it hilarious and can't keep the smile off of his face. You can feel his shoulders moving up and down with silent laughter but he manages to contain it and simply clears his throat to hide the laughter.

"Have either of you considered simply reading of an evening? Instead of what I assume are your usual activities?" She says with a bitter tone, face downturned into her usual grimace.

Fred snorts at her words and though you feel slightly offended by her accusation, just as you always did by her comments, you can't help but chuckle yourself at the strangeness of the situation. Was she really commenting on your sex life?

"Onto your fourth already! And only 25! You’re worse than your mother, all of you breed like Gnomes."

"You see I've never been one for reading, but I tried," Fred replies coyly. From his tone of voice you can tell that he's teasing, about to prod the bear. "But it only gave me more ideas. What was is called sweetheart? Some muggle book... Kama sutra! Eroticism for begginers. Let me tell you, it's changed my life! Couldn't put it down... or her," he says, nodding his head towards you with a wicked smile on his face as his hand snakes around to cradle your bump once again.

You can't hide your smile this time as Muriel lets out a disgusted squark and turns away with a deeper grimace than before. You turn your head and snuggle into Fred's shoulder to hide your laughter whilst he openly chuckles to himself, head thrown back slightly in glee.

"You're terrible," you mutter with a smirk, pulling yourself away from the soft fabric of his shirt where it stretches over his muscled shoulders. His smile is wide and wicked as he takes in your words, hearing nothing but compliments.

"Hilarious is a better word," he quips, eyes shining in delight.

"Incorrigible."

"Completely irreformable," he agrees without a single care. "But I think you like me like this."

You look up from under your lashes at him, matching the look in his sparkling eyes and can't help but agree.

Taglist part 1 ♡

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[whencartoonsruletheworld]

not people disliking this episode???? “when did they decide to eat people” sorry did i lottie-style hallucinate the “it can’t be her” scene? they made the decision because they were trying and failing to eat BELTS because they ran out of food a month ago and they refuse to eat lottie because she’s the only one keeping them fucking sane out here, she’s their fucking god-queen despite the fact she never wanted to be, that she WANTS to sacrifice herself for them and they say no. and even now in the future she is haunted by the queen card, by the ritual they all came up with to keep her alive. they will have to tell her when she comes to. they will have to tell her who she ate and how they did it to save her.

natalie gave javi new gloves. she stares at those gloves as he drowns. he goes down like the moose. “we needed it.” he was trying to save her. he would have saved her. she would have saved him if they didn’t stop her. it’s him or you. it WAS him or her. he pulled the king card. he went to cry in his brother’s arms because he was scared to die. the queen let him drown and now his brother will eat him. travis doesn’t know it was natalie’s choice but he’ll suspect. he hugged his brother assuring him it wasn’t him. travis made the choice to save natalie and now it is him. javi made the choice to save natalie and now it is him. misty made the choice to save natalie and she keeps making that choice and natalie wishes she’d let her die in the hunt twenty-five years ago. travis made the choice to save natalie, hugging his crying brother, and now he eats his brother. the wilderness saved him solely to save natalie. or maybe the wilderness doesn’t decide on anything at all. you can see his gloves as he grips the ice. “you’re a good person, natalie.” you can see his gloves. the wilderness chose. javi was the baby of the bunch. they may not have eaten shauna’s baby but they ate the baby nonetheless. the wilderness chose.

[dadbodbuck]

i had a bad day and then @tommystummy started talking about bucktommy arguments and this scenario came up and i latched onto it like a moray eel. please enjoy some raw, unedited tommy kinard angst

Tommy doesn't like talking about it. It being the roughly five years he worked under Captain Gerrard, alongside Howie and Hen, when he was deeply closeted and a major asshole. He can make his excuses, he can try to convey the feeling of looking into someone's eyes and only seeing your father's. He can admit to the humiliating nightmares he used to have of his father storming into the fire station and screaming at him. Neither of those are reason enough to be callous towards people who were being tortured in their own workplace.

Howie and Hen were much quicker to forgive him than Tommy was. In fact, it seemed like it only took one mumbled apology for them to shrug it all off. Water under the bridge, they had said. Just don't do it again.

And God, Tommy never did. After that, after finally taking his sexuality out of the box deep in the animal part of his brain, he told himself he would be different. He expected it to be hard, and on some level it was, but—

Tommy kissed a man for the first time (since high school) forty-eight hours after he was reassigned to the 217, quick and dirty in a bar in West Hollywood. Something in Tommy’s chest clicked into place when he heard the soft, deep moan of a nameless man wearing body glitter. He couldn’t go back even if he wanted to.

Before, he’d been afraid of this exact thing. He’d kept his hands to himself because he knew that his closet wasn’t resealable. It was one-and-done. Gerrard’s boys would have eaten him alive. But Howie and Hen wouldn’t. They didn’t.

It still took him a long time for him to tell them. They didn’t talk often, but they did keep in touch. Tommy owed them so many favors he’d probably be repaying them for the rest of his life, but they seemed more interested in just being his friend. A distant one, but a friend nonetheless.

Distance was fine. Distance was easy. Distance allowed for Tommy to keep his comfortable walls in place, even if he redecorated them a little.

It took him three months to realize how debilitating loneliness was. He was out, now, but without the close, albeit sterile and toxic, friendship of the boy’s club at the 118. Tommy longed for connection. He thrived on it. Something deep, and routine, and constant.

But nobody was volunteering. So Tommy resigned himself to his old hobbies, cars and Muay Thai and basketball, and introduced karaoke trivia to the routine, because he’d always loved singing but never had the guts to do it while he was closeted. It was nice. If anyone noticed Tommy’s near-compulsive schedule of activities, they never mentioned it. The years passed. Howie and Hen grew even more distant. Tommy liked their Facebook posts. He did their favors. He was still lonely, but he successfully put the version of himself he had been on a shelf in the deepest recesses of his brain, never to see the light of day again.

He was a good person now. He was good. He was good despite the skeletons rattling in the closet where his love used to be.

Then, Evan.

No other preamble necessary. Then, Evan. With his broad chest and blue eyes and insane, insane ideas.

Really, was Tommy not supposed to fall in love with him?

Things are great for a while. Idyllic. Peaceful, and exciting, and sweet, and so goddamn sexy, and safe. Tommy feels safe in Evan’s arms.

The problem, of course, is that Evan has this idea that he has to know every part of Tommy. All of him.

“I want to love all of you,” Evan murmurs, as a creeping sense of dread settles in Tommy’s chest, “Even the parts you don’t like.”

Tommy chews on his words, but Evan must sense something is wrong, because he props himself up on an elbow and leans over Tommy, brow scrunched in concern.

“There are parts of me that aren’t worth loving.” Tommy settles on, eventually.

He watches Evan’s heart break in real time, and it does nothing to soothe the growing irritation in his chest.

“I don’t believe that,” Evan frowns, “I think even when you were making mistakes, you were worth loving.”

Tommy huffs a dry, sarcastic laugh. “I beg to differ.”

He doesn’t elaborate. Can’t. Evan doesn’t like this. “Tom, that’s—that’s not how this works. You don’t get to pick and choose which parts of you I’m allowed to love. I don’t care what it is. I love you.”

Tommy isn’t going to win this argument, so he doesn’t even try. Instead, he forces himself to relax, and sighs. “Okay. Sorry, honey.”

He can tell Evan isn’t buying it, by the disbelieving set to his mouth, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he lays back down and presses a gentle kiss to Tommy’s shoulder. It feels a lot like another declaration.

“I love you too,” Tommy says, bringing one of Evan’s hands up to his mouth to kiss his knuckles. Evan revels in physical touch—it’s one of his favorite love languages, although he enjoys pretty much all of them. Mostly, Tommy thinks Evan was just love-starved for a long time.

Tommy is positive beyond doubt that Evan was never like him. It takes little talking to Howie and Maddie to confirm that he’s always presented his heart on a platter, warm and bleeding for whoever wants to carry it. There’s no universe where a callous man like Gerrard would have turned Evan into what Tommy was. Evan has never been a coward.

Tommy hopes that’ll be the end of the argument, but the next day, Evan sits down on the couch and says, “I know talking about your past is painful for you, and I don’t want to force you to tell me anything.”

Tommy senses a conjunction and chooses to remain silent.

“But,” there it is, “I don’t take back what I said.”

“I’m not having this conversation with you again,” Tommy grunts, knowing he’s closing himself off.

“Then let me say it,” Evan presses, “There is nothing in your past that would change how I feel about you.”

“You don’t know that,” Tommy says, through gritted teeth, “You don’t know what I was like to Howie and Hen when they first joined the 118. I said things I shouldn’t have. I let Gerrard and his cronies get away with even worse. I let them get hurt, and I did nothing, because I was a coward.”

Evan looks at him with big, sad eyes. “You were scared.”

“I should have done the right thing anyway,” Tommy argues, “You think Howie and Hen weren’t scared? You think they weren’t terrified? Hen got up in front of everyone and gave us this big speech about how proud she was to be gay, to be black, to be herself. And all I did was stand there with this pit in my stomach. Like if anyone looked over at me they would just know, and then I’d be a pariah. Like her.”

“Tommy,” Evan says, dismayed, “She’s forgiven you so many times over for that. Beating yourself up about it does nothing.”

“It holds me accountable,” Tommy says, “It keeps me from being that person again. I hate the person I was back then. You would have hated him, too.”

“Maybe,” Evan shrugs, like it’s just that easy, “But I try not to hate people. I certainly don’t hate my loved ones for making mistakes. And that’s what you did. Make a mistake. Now, looking back on it, I can see that version of you. That Tommy, who was afraid and in pain. I still love him.”

“Stop!” Tommy snaps, but makes no move to get away from Evan. Evan’s hand stutters, but makes its way to Tommy’s shoulder, thumb rubbing over the joint.

“I love every version of all of my loved ones,” Evan says softly, “I love the version of Bobby who almost drank himself to death. I love the version of Eddie that fought people in the street. I love the version of Chim that punched me. I love the version of Maddie that ran away from me—several times, I might add. I love the version of Hen that almost ended her own marriage when she betrayed Karen’s trust.”

There’s about thirty different stories Tommy wants to explore in there, but Evan doesn’t let him get a word in edgewise. “And I love the version of you that stood by and watched because he was too scared to intervene.”

Evan leans in to plant a tender kiss to Tommy’s cheek. “I love him, and I love the Tommy who was in Iraq, and I love the Tommy who was almost a high school dropout, and I love the Tommy who loved to go hiking after middle school, and I love the Tommy who was late learning how to walk but early learning how to read. It’s not hard. He’s you.”

“I don’t want him to be me,” Tommy confesses, throat tight.

“But he is,” Evan murmurs, soft and soothing in Tommy’s ear, “He’s right here. And he’s doing right by people now. He learned how to be brave. He made amends. Hen and Chim didn’t forgive you because you killed that old version of yourself, they forgave you because you made an effort.”

It’s the first time Tommy’s ever heard it phrased like this, and something about the way Evan says it makes his eyes sting. Evan pulls him into a hug, tucks his face into the crook of his neck, and lets Tommy cry. Rubs his back through it. If Tommy pretends, he could be rubbing the uniform-clad thirty-five year-old firefighter, or the fatigued back of an eighteen-year-old soldier, or the thrifted cotton tee of a middle schooler, or the just-too-tight romper of a toddler. All the Tommies that never got this, all the Tommies that desperately wanted it.

For the first time since his mother died, Tommy is held while he cries, and after nearly thirty years, something in his chest stops aching.

[screamlet]

wip wednesday

from the bucktommy, tommy pov fic that's eaten my life

another version of the first kiss (about 1k, lil bit explicit)

---

The plan doesn't involve kissing Evan, this man he's met three times. Disaster rescue, work tour, basketball disaster, Evan's apartment right now—four times. This is only the fourth time he's ever laid eyes on Evan Buckley, but Evan Buckley hasn't fucking blinked since he stepped into the room. 

Has Tommy?

Does he know?

Does Evan know the rules of queer engagement, which come down to:

3-7 seconds of eye contact: let's fuck

3-7 seconds of eye contact and eyes drop down to their lips: let's fuck hard, right now

3-7 seconds of eye contact and staring at their lips and their breath hitching in their chests and slowly gravitating towards each other from separate corners of this really nice kitchen/dining area: let's fucking ravage each other and leave no survivors, right now

Tommy doesn't think he knows. Tommy thinks that they're having a molasses-slow conversation about jealousy and desire and Evan can't stop staring at his mouth. He can't stop staring at his chest, too, and his arms—that hasn't escaped Tommy's notice. Evan's looking at him like he's never seen another person before and Tommy—

So is he…..?

He feels insane. He feels literally insane! He feels insane for feeling insane because if this was happening to anyone else, he would be standing up from his seat and yelling, KISS HIM ALREADY!!!!!!! BEND HIM OVER THAT DINING ROOM TABLE AND FUCK HIM!!!!!!!!! DON'T LET HIM BEG BECAUSE YOUR FINGERS ARE IN HIS MOUTH AND HIS EYES ARE WATERING BECAUSE YOU'RE FUCKING HIM SO GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

But Tommy's breath is caught in his chest as he's staring at Evan's lips. His eyes won't look away from Evan's. His hands want to reach out and touch every part of him: his red cheeks, redder lips, his chest and hips and ass (and what he's packing). He also wants to kiss him. 

Does Evan want to kiss him? 

He comes closer, so Tommy comes closer. 

Donato was right: this is Jurassic Park where Eddie was the first raptor leading him here, and Evan is about to go in for the kill.

But is this raptor gay?

"I could teach you Muay Thai," Tommy says out of nowhere—nowhere. His neck hurts from following Evan's lead because Evan is tilting his head and coming closer, and closer. Tilting his head like he wants to fit his lips against Tommy's as they kiss. It's the head tilt. It's the head tilt! Does Evan know tilting his head is the gayest (clothed) thing a man could do in front of another man? Baring his neck, smiling coyly, biting his lip, staring obsessively at Tommy's lips—get the fuck out of here.

"Is that gonna be right after our flying lessons?"

Tommy's dumb. "Probably not on the same day."

"Good."

Evan hasn't blinked in about five years; neither has Tommy. 

"'Cause trying to get your attention has been kind of exhausting." 

Tommy realizes he hasn't been saying anything new. He's been echoing Evan's words because he's fresh out of his own. His stomach has been tight since he walked in and started having these thoughts that, maybe, Evan wants him and has wanted him, and that alone will change his and Eddie and Evan's dynamic (such as it is).

"My attention?"

Fuck fake mouth static, there's real static filling Tommy's skull, loud and demanding and overwhelming. Evan's still staring at him, mesmerized by him—by Tommy, of all people. Tommy's staring is caught up in Evan's staring, so. Fuck it. He does it.

He grasps Evan's chin—he has to, otherwise Evan won't shut up or stop tilting his head. He holds him still and kisses him. He feels this hunger inside, something that wants so much more from this kiss. If they were at some club or bar, this wouldn't be a problem. They would be tongue-fucking right now, or moving to a back room to hook up like other guys. Any other circumstance, maybe this would be the intro before the show. Maybe Tommy would have Evan bent over that dining room table, fucking him with the blinds half-open for anyone in the city to see. 

But that's not where they are. That's not who they are. It's Evan, Eddie's best friend, who wanted to be around Tommy so bad that he literally shoved Eddie aside to get his attention. Dragged Howie to play basketball when he himself hates basketball. Let Tommy into his apartment to apologize and eye-fuck him and bare open his soul.

Seriously, is he gay? 

Evan kisses him back. He's hungry, too. 

Tommy doesn't open his eyes yet. He's shaking a little and trying to hide it. He finally looks and Tommy can't believe Evan looks worse than before—pupils wide, mouth agape, shocked into silence. He can't stop staring at Tommy. Tommy doesn't know what to do now that he's here and blown someone's world wide open. He did that.

"Are you free Saturday?" It's what his mouth says and does so Tommy doesn't drop to his knees and suck Evan's brain out through his dick. He wonders if Evan's hard, dizzy and mind blown and hard as a rock.

"Yes, I—I am free."

Fuck. Fuck.

He could stay. They could handle this right now. Evan's bed is within sight. They could rush upstairs and he could hold Evan down and fuck him quick and hard. Tommy could get it out of both of their systems, then run off to work and maybe—maybe never talk to him again. Maybe Evan would be too embarrassed and it would smother his jealousy forever, and he and Tommy would see each other at group hangs, if even that. Maybe Evan would be interested, actually, and they could start up some secret casual fucking until Evan finds his next girlfriend and realizes that Tommy's just a phase.

But Evan can't stop staring at him. Evan is barely breathing. Evan, who doesn't shut up, can barely speak. Tommy doesn't want him to. He leaves before he can make some bad decisions of a kind that Eddie didn't think of, when they could—

They could do other things. Good things, maybe.

Saturday at 8:00. They could do something. 

[minnieminshi]

Pucking Chemistry

Summary: You never should’ve agreed to tutor the captain of the hockey team. Who shows up a full hour after the agreed meeting time? Choi Seungcheol, apparently as you’ve come to learn. And now you’re stuck tutoring him because for some reason, you're his last hope to pass chemistry so he’s eligible to play in an upcoming tournament. 

Warnings: cursing because I can’t help myself lol, mentions of your father abandoning the family (it's minor and only mentioned like once)

Word Count: 9.9K (I was possessed lol)

Extra info: high school setting, Cheol uses the term "princess" a lot and I'm a sucker for calling people by their last name, mentions of Monsta X’s I.M (aka Changkyun) and Kard’s Somin (but she gets mentioned like once lol), your little brother’s name never gets mentioned but you do call him Frosty lol, and my knowledge of hockey is limited to watching Dr. Mike on yt talk about hockey injuries so there’s not a whole lot of hockey action in this fic lmao.

Author's Note: this fic made me realize my little brother is turning 13 this year and I can’t handle that because what do you mean he’s a teen now he literally turned one the other day and I think that shows in this fic lol. Also if I only count the days I actually sat down to write this fic it only took me 3 days lol, but I had 3 tests this week and had to be productive so that nerfed me. This is also the first fic I'm posting in this app so bare with me lol and in honor of Scoups and Jeonghan getting cleared to return to activities, I present the beginning of this series

Sporteen Masterlist

Sitting in the school’s library, all your chemistry notes laid out, you began to rethink agreeing to tutor the school’s hockey captain, Choi Seungcheol. With another glance to your phone, you sighed, ten minutes passed what the two of you agreed to meet at. If you didn’t like your chemistry teacher as much as you do, you would have never agreed to do this. 

He’s a sweet guy, I’m sure he won’t give you any problems!

But it’s only ten minutes and sometimes things come up. Maybe he’d walk in after a few more minutes and then you two could finally start. 

Except those ten minutes slowly morphed into thirty minutes, forty five minutes, and now suddenly it’s an hour and not a single word from Choi Seungcheol about where the hell he’s at.

And while having to wait an hour for someone to show up to something they needed sucked, that’s not what pissed you off. What pissed you off was the fact that after this tutoring session, you had a date with Changkyun, set up by your friend Somin, but thanks to the no show Choi Seungcheol, you’d have to rush home, get your little brother ready for the evening and get ready for your date. And while you could hypothetically get everything done in time, you would prefer it if you didn’t have to rush. Your little brother’s probably gonna complain about his quick dinner of chicken nuggets and macaroni after you promised him yesterday you’d make him what he called an “actual meal.” You reminded him that he was twelve and fully capable of cooking for himself and suddenly the quick meal was the best thing he’s ever eaten. 

So he could survive a rushed meal, however getting ready for your date was a different story. Rushing to get ready in the morning for school was one thing. You could halfass an outfit and get your brother out the door in fifteen minutes flat if your mom was already at work, but you needed a little more time to actually look good enough for someone who wasn’t related to you or hasn’t seen you slumped over your desk with textbooks and notes sprawled all over the floor. 

Now, because of Choi Seungcheol, you’d have to rush, something you wished wouldn’t happen. 

“Sweet guy my ass,” you mutter under your breath as you begin shoving your things into your backpack. Just as you finished shoving the last textbook into your backpack, a deep voice caught you off guard before you rolled your eyes.  

“Where’re you going princess, aren’t you gonna tutor me?” 

Oh? 

Letting out a low chuckle, you turn to face the captain who you wished you could smack that smirk off his face and crossing your arms over your chest, you leaned against the table. “Tutor you? I agreed to tutor you an hour ago, and since that’s passed, I’m heading home to go enjoy my evening.” 

As you turned around to grab your backpack and go home, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You looked up to see him holding onto you, a hesitant look in his eyes. Your brows furrowed as you shook his hand off. 

“Look, I’m sorry about being late, but something came up.” He muttered, his hand falling to his side as he shoved his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie. You scoffed as you shouldered your bag. “Too busy to send a heads up?” 

You look up to see a light blush dust his cheeks as he looks away from you, and if you weren’t so pissed at him, you’d find him kinda cute. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You sighed as you glance at the clock on the wall, and with a sigh, you turn to the hockey player. “Look, I have plans so I can give you 45 minutes.” 

“Forty five minutes? That’s barely any time to learn anything,” he complained with a small pout on his lips as you rolled your eyes. “Take it or leave it Choi, you’re the one who was late.” 

He let out a small huff before agreeing to the terms, pulling out a chair as you pulled out your phone, setting an alarm for exactly 45 minutes. Thankfully tutoring him wasn’t terrible, he actually seemed to listen to you and he even took notes while you explained the most recent lesson to him. Maybe if he was kind enough to send a message earlier you might actually feel bad about leaving, but alas that wasn’t the case. 

With the default alarm ringing, you began packing up your things once again, this time, really just throwing everything with no regard as to how things landed in your bag. With a little speeding you should be able to make it home in about fifteen minutes which gives you about ten minutes to make your brother’s dinner and have about thirty minutes to get ready for your date. Perfect timing as long as you leave right now. 

Just as you begin to walk away, pulling up your little brother’s contact to tell him you’re on your way, Seungcheol calls you out. “Are we still good for next week?” You freeze, slowly turning to look at him as your phone rings. “Next week? Listen Choi, I think it’s best if you find someone else to tutor you.”

Before he can say anything, you cut him off. “Listen, I have things to take care of after school and I can’t wait for over an hour, wondering if you’ll show up. I’ll tell Ms. Park to find someone else and we don’t have to worry about seeing each other again.” With that, you walk out the library, your little brother having finally picked up and making things easier for you as he grabbed all the food you told him to. 

Looks like things will be going back to normal after today, no more having to worry about Choi Seungcheol. 

Or so you thought. 

What you didn’t expect to see when coming to pick up your little brother from his little hockey club practice is Choi Seungcheol out on the ice, with your little brother excitedly talking to him about who knows what. 

You internally groan, why, just why did he have to be the one to coach your little brother’s team. And why did you have to say you’d never see him again, it’s like you were asking for the universe to play a cruel prank on you by making sure this would happen to you. 

Weeks ago, when your little brother asked you if you could start taking him to a hockey club he joined every Saturday, you didn’t see any issue with it initially. As long as he had the proper gear (that your guys’ mom provided) you thought it was great he found a sport he enjoyed after he burned through basketball, soccer, tennis, and baseball in a matter of a few years. Plus it meant you could have Saturday to yourself for a few hours while everyone else was out of the house. So a win-win in your book. 

Or so it was a win before you were left in disbelief, standing off to the side as you watched him talk to Seungcheol. You shook your head, calling out his name as you made your way to the plexiglass wall, wanting to go home. You made the rookie mistake of walking into the rink with no jacket, thinking it would be a quick run of picking him up and going back home. How foolish of you to think things would work out for you. 

You let out a small gasp as you made eye contact with your little brother, holding it for a few seconds, only to have him ignore you and continue to talk to his coach, who you knew was aware of your presence. You groan, grounding the heels of your palms into your eyes. Oh how you wished you were an only child in moments like this. Instead you were cursed to be a big sister to a little brother who made your life oh so difficult. 

Calling out his name one more time, he finally looked over at you and started to make his way off the rink. You sighed, thankful you weren’t going to have to resort to actually going out on the ice to drag him out. 

“Took you long enough, I’m freezing over here,” you said once he was at the wall, carefully stepping onto the non-frozen ground with his skates. “That’s on you for not bringing a jacket into the rink.” 

“And that’s on you when all you get for dinner is a slice of bread,” you say when you hand him his sneakers that he had put on the seats before practice had started, and where his backpack was. “Can’t believe you feed me like I’m some paperboy from the 1900s,” he grumbled, but he took the shoes. 

Before you could shoot back a reply, Seungcheol skates up to the wall, a smirk on his face. You roll your eyes, wishing he’d go back to doing figure eights or whatever the hell he does on the ice. He calls out your name but you choose to pretend you don’t hear him, instead leaning down to grab your brother’s backpack, a small groan leaving your lips from the sheer weight in his bag. It’s like he carries rocks in this thing, you complain as you shoulder the bag. He shoots you a look as if asking why are you carrying my backpack, but he doesn’t question it, you know the whole gift horse saying. 

Just as he finishes tying his shoe, Seungcheol crosses the threshold, leaning against the door as he eyes you. You could feel your eye twitching as you watched him what looked like inspect you, and you fight back a groan when he smirks at you.  

“What happened to never seeing each other again prin-” 

“Don’t finish that sentence,” you grit out, hoping your little brother could help you if he truly cared about you. You glance over at him, and just from the look in his eyes, you know he’s not helping you out. It’s like his eyes are shining with awe just from being near Seungcheol and you wonder what your little brother sees in him. 

He can’t be that great, you still– well hate’s not the word, that’s too strong, it’s more so you greatly dislike him for what he did a week ago. You still think it was shitty of him to not tell you anything about being late. And of course his cocky personality is really starting to get on your nerves, especially when he calls you princess, as if you two are that close. You’ve only spoken to him a handful of times and yet he calls you a petname as if you’ve known each other for ages. It just makes your skin crawl. 

“You know each other?” Your brother asks, poking his head into the conversation as he looks between the two of you. Before you could say anything, Seungcheol butts in, “she tutors me.” 

Your jaw drops as he smiles, as if he didn’t just lie to your little brother. It’s like every time he opens his mouth he finds a new way to piss you off. You dryly chuckle as you grab your brother’s shoulder, trying to guide him away so you can leave. “I don’t, now come on, I gotta start prepping dinner.” 

“But it’s Saturday, we usually eat out today,” he says and you give him a tightlipped smile. “I just feel like cooking today so why don’t we go home now.” 

At that, it seems like your brother finally puts the pieces together, and nods his head. Just as the two of you are about to leave the rink, Seungcheol calls out your name once again. Already knowing what he’s going to ask you shake your head. “I’ll tell Ms. Park on Monday to find someone else to help you.” 

And with that, you’re gone and Seungcheol’s on his own again, wondering how the hell he’s supposed to get his chemistry grade up without your help. 

“Do you hate Scoups hyung?” Your brother asks once you pull out of the parking lot, your car currently playing I’ll Make a Man Out of You as you let out a confused sound. “Scoups? Is that what you guys call him,” you chuckle, finding the nickname a little silly. 

“He said he doesn’t like people calling him his full name,” he explains with a shrug. “Now, do you hate him?” 

Wow, he’s really not letting this go. 

You sigh as you look over to your right. He’s looking at you expectantly, as if there’s this great and terrible backstory to explain why you wanted to leave the rink as soon as the hockey player approached you. When you tell your brother what happened a few days ago between the two of you, he just rolls his eyes. Yes rolls his eyes, as if being forced to wait an hour for someone to show up isn’t a good enough reason to dislike a person. 

“He apologized, what’s the big deal?” He asks, and it’s moments like this when you're reminded your brother is just a boy. “It’s the fact he made me wait an hour with no heads up that I’m still upset about.” Your brother looks over at you, a small smile on his face. “I think he’s a good guy, I’m sure he had a reason why he was late. I don’t think he meant to blow you off like that.” 

You blink, letting his words sink in for a moment before shaking your head, focusing back on the road. “Let’s stop talking about Choi and focus back on planning your essay that you have due on Monday.” 

He groans, throwing his head back onto the headrest, complaining about why his teacher needed them to write about an important person in their life. “I’m going to write about our dog,” he mutters once the two of you pull up into the parking lot of your apartment. You chuckle, locking the car as he holds open the elevator for you. “We don’t even have a dog.” 

“Ms. Kang doesn’t know that.” He shrugs and sometimes you wonder how your brother’s made it this far. “Whatever you say Frosty, but that essay better be done by tomorrow since mom wants us to go out to eat for dinner.”

“Hey Frosty’s a pretty good name for a dog, you think I could use it for a husky?” 

“You know what, go crazy dude.” 

The last thing you expect when you were walking to the parking lot, heading over to the middle school to go pick up your brother, was to be pinned against a wall in the science building, much less to see Choi Seungcheol, on his knees, begging for you to not talk to Ms. Park. 

You could only blink, wondering what the hell has gotten into him. Did he hit his head too hard from a fall on the ice or something? Feeling a little embarrassed, you try getting him back on his feet before anyone walks down the hall. Thankfully he gets up, but unfortunately he keeps you pinned to the wall, towering over you. 

“Choi, what the fuck’s gotten into you,” you mutter, trying to push him slightly away from you, putting some breathing space between the two of you. 

“Please don’t talk to Ms. Park to find a replacement tutor.” He quietly says and you could feel your jaw drop. No fucking way he’s still on this. You put your hands on his shoulders, effectively getting him to look at you. “You can’t be serious.” 

He groans as he closes his eyes, as if he was thinking of what the best thing to say is. One of your eyebrows raise as you wait to see what he says, and what looks like great reluctance from him, he finally confesses his woes.

“There’s a big tournament coming up in a month and if I wanna play, I need to get my chem grade up.” 

You stare at him for a few seconds. That’s it? Why would this concern you? Feeling a little nice, you don’t voice out your thoughts and instead ask, “so what does that have to do with me? You can just find another tutor.” 

He shakes his head and you tilt your head to the side, now intrigued on what he could possibly say. 

“You’re the only person who actually makes chemistry make sense so if I want a chance to pass this class,” he looks up and your breath hitches when you look into his eyes. You never noticed how pretty his eyes are, or how fucking long his eyelashes are. Shaking those thoughts away, you notice what looks like hope in his eyes, and you realize he really thinks you’ll help him. “I need your help.” 

You blink, trying to weigh your options. While you still hold a grudge against him for the first tutoring session, this tournament’s important to him. The two of you are seniors, and depending on his plans for after graduation, this may be the last time he gets to play the sport. Then of course, you can’t stop thinking about what your brother said the other day, and unfortunately for you, you trust your brother’s judgment. And if Seungcheol’s ineligible to play, you really don’t want that to affect your brother’s team. He’s grown to love the sport in the weeks he’s played and you really don’t want him to lose his growing passion. 

You sigh, closing your eyes as you lean your head back against the wall. “Fine, I won’t talk to her.” He smiles and before he could thank you, you cut him off. “But just know I’m doing this for my brother, he really seems to like you and I don’t want you failing to affect your coaching.” 

“I’ll take it as long as you’re agreeing to keep tutoring me,” he smiles and you’re stunned into silence for a few seconds when you see dimples dot his cheeks. You shake out of it and wiggle out of his grasp. “Yeah, just make sure you’re not late without a heads up, Choi.” 

The next few weeks are filled with Choi Seungcheol, and you’re not sure how you feel about that statement just yet. In the beginning, you were still a bit reluctant, still fearing he’d be late with no excuse, but at your first tutoring session, he had arrived at the library before you. You were walking to some of the tables at the back of the library when you heard someone call your name, only to see it was Seungcheol, who had reserved a study room for the two of you and already had all of his notes out. 

You felt a little bad even though you arrived on time. You had to drop your brother at home so you couldn’t meet right after school, but you did your best to get there as soon as possible. 

He was very attentive while you explained everything to him and you wondered how he was failing chemistry in the first place when it seemed like he knew all the topics. It was when the two of you got to the practice problems did you see where the problems were coming from. 

Your teacher, Ms. Park, has the tendency to make half of your homework situational problems, where you had to apply the basic knowledge that, on its own, was quite simple, but once put in a non-laboratory setting became a lot more difficult if one didn’t have a complete grasp on the concept. And that’s what you suspect is happening to Seungcheol, and the reason he was failing the class. Good thing you caught on in the beginning of these sessions and you could plan accordingly. 

It was another tutoring session when your phone started ringing, you grabbed your phone, confused on who was calling you when you excused yourself, leaving him to work on a problem on his own while you stepped out into the study room next door to take the call. 

Your eyes widen when you hear your little brother’s quiet voice on the other end, hoarse as he asks if you could come back home. You tell him you’re on your way before hanging up the call, and rushing into the study room you were just in. 

Seungcheol jumped at your sudden intrusion, but before he could complain about you scaring him, you started to throw your things into your bag, grabbing your keys. “I’m sorry but my little brother’s sick so I gotta go take care of him.” 

You were halfway through the door when you turned to look at him, “I’ll make it up to when he’s all better!” And just like that, you were out the door, apologizing to the little kid you almost bulldozed down in your rush to your car. 

You make it back home in a new record, most definitely going past the speed limits as you skid into the parking spot in the parking garage, haphazardly raising your hand with your keys in hand in the air as you run towards the elevator, not double checking to see if you actually locked your car. If you didn’t live on the fifth floor, you’d actually consider taking the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator, but alas, not even the haze of trying to get to your little brother was enough for you to suddenly have an increase in stamina. 

Thankfully the elevator didn’t take long and you were able to make it to your apartment, throwing open the door as you tossed your backpack down the hallway. You rush into the living room to see your little brother laying across the couch, buried under a pile of blankets. He’s really out of it if he didn’t even bother to look up at all the noise you made trying to get in. You sigh before heading to the bathroom, looking for a thermometer and to check if there was anything you could give him over the counter. 

Tsking at the 100.4° on the small screen, you wiped a damp towel over his forehead, wondering how he got this bad in the span of the 45 minutes that you were gone. He didn’t look too bad when you had picked him up from school, tired sure, but not knocking on death’s door like he is now. You were about to give him the medicine you found when there was a knock at the door. Not knowing who it could be, you quickly gave your brother the medicine and headed to the door. 

You check through the peephole and take a step back, your jaw slacking as you realize who’s on the other side of your door. 

Choi Seungcheol. 

How the fuck did he figure out where you live? You don’t remember telling him and last time you checked, your address wasn’t public knowledge. Shaking off the initial shock, you open the door, now curious as to why he’s here. Before he could explain his sudden visit, you beat him to the punch. “How the hell do you know where I live?” 

He pointed to the floor above you. “Jeonghan told me, plus it was listed on the emergency contacts your brother filled out.” You blinked at him, wondering why your upstairs neighbor would rat you out like that, or how he knew your exact unit number. Whatever, what’s done is done. You point at the convenience store bag in his hand, asking about what he has. 

He brings his free hand to scratch the back on his neck, a nervous chuckle leaving his lips, avoiding eye contact. “I- uh got kinda worried and wanted to check up on you guys.” He brings the bag up, “I don’t know what he’s sick with so I just got the generic stuff and I brought snacks.” 

You stare at him for a few moments before chuckling, thanking him as you take the bag from him and gesture for him to follow you into the apartment. He hesitates for a second before you nod at him, assuring him that it’s okay. He slips his shoes off and sets them down next to yours, following you into the apartment. 

Your little brother looks a little better, actually looking up when the two of you walk into the living room (it’s only a few steps past the little entryway). He looks at the two of you for a second before laying back down. He shoots back up, as if wondering if Seungcheol is actually in your guys’ apartment. 

“Real or am I hallucinating?” 

You laugh as you adjust the towel over his forehead, “as crazy as it looks, he’s real. Now you should lie back down while I make you a porridge to eat.” He nods his head, laying back down as he adjusts the towel to sit over his eyes. You expected Seungcheol to stay in the living room with your brother, you didn’t expect him to follow you into the kitchen, asking if he could help you. Getting over the initial shock, something that keeps happening whenever you’re around him apparently, and start telling him to grab everything that you need. 

It was funny to see him panic everytime you left him on his own to check on your brother, his eyes wide as his head kept snapping from the stove to you. Who knew the tough hockey captain could get so nervous by being left alone in the kitchen? 

Thankfully it didn’t take long for the porridge to be made, and once you confirmed that your brother was able to keep his food down, you went back into the kitchen. “How do you like your ramen Choi?” 

You turn to see him pouting and for some reason you feel the urge to poke his cheeks. Weird. 

“Why do you keep calling me Choi?” He complains, leaning against the counter as he watches you take out another pot and two packages of your favorite ramen brand. You look over your shoulder, closing the cabinet before standing back up. “Would you prefer me calling you by your full name?” You tease, smiling as you see his cheeks turn the softest shade of pink. He stumbles over his words before you hear him mutter a quiet no, and you just laugh. 

“I just don’t get why you call me by my last name instead of what everyone else calls me,” he says, handing you an egg when you ask for one. You shrug, “it started when you blew me off the first tutoring session and it kinda stuck.” 

“What do I have to do for you to call me something other than my last name,” he begs, and you laugh at how serious this is for him. You didn’t think his name would be this sore spot for him, but it is amusing to see him so stressed over something so small. You look over at him while the water’s boiling, biting your lip as you pretend to think it over. “Get over a 90 on our next chem test and I might consider it.” 

His jaw drops as he stands there frozen for a few seconds before groaning. “A 90? Listen, you're a great tutor but our next test is in literally three days and the best I’m getting is probably a mid 70.” 

“Then Choi it is,” you reply, grabbing two bowls. At least he believes he can pass this next test, that’s some progress. Before he can start complaining, you both freeze when you hear your little brother yell out, “can you two stop flirting and get me another bowl of porridge,” and before you can yell at him for even saying that he throws in a little “please” at the end. Wow, how polite of him. 

“We’re not flirting!” You say, walking into the living room to take his bowl, and as much as you want to tackle him to the ground for even suggesting you’re flirting with the hockey player, you decide to take pity on him, this time. He’s lucky his body failed him today. 

Once your sickly brother is content with his second bowl of porridge, you take your and Seuncheol’s bowls to your small dining table. He follows and you go back for utensils, asking what he’d like to drink. Once everything is set on the table, the two of you start eating in a comfortable silence, the show your brother was watching filling the otherwise silent apartment. Your eyes fall to his backpack that was by the door and you swallow what’s in your mouth before motioning to his bag. 

“Wanna continue with where we left off? I really think if we can get past this topic you can definitely score somewhere in the 80s.” His eyes follow at what you’re pointing at, and he nods, finishing his bowl before getting up to grab his backpack, and even getting your backpack that you had thrown earlier. 

The two of you pick up where you left off, occasionally taking breaks when your little brother claims he needs your assistance with what he calls “surviving” when in all actuality it was just him wanting another refill of his water. 

It was nearing 8 o’clock when the two of you were done for the day. As he was gathering his things, your brother got enough strength to get off the couch, heading to his room before waving bye to Seungcheol, telling him he’d definitely be good to go to practice on Saturday. The hockey player laughs as he leans over the table to fist bump him, telling him he better keep his word. You smile at the exchange, happy to see your brother doing better. 

“Come on, I’ll see you down,” you say when he’s gotten all his things. Before he can argue with you about it being unnecessary, you wave him off, saying how it’s the least you could do after he came all the way over to check up on the two of you.

The two of you are in the elevator when he finally speaks again. 

“Is it usually the two of you this late into the evening?” He asks, his eyes hesitantly flitting from your face to the wall next to your head. You hum, leaning against the railing with your eyes closed, “our mom works late at the hospital and…” You trail off, opening your eyes to see Seungcheol watching you, something in his eyes that makes you look away, the floor suddenly a lot more interesting to look at. Why does he look at you with so much care? 

“Our dad left when my brother was a couple of months old so it's just been us three,” you say, not quite believing you're actually telling him this about yourself. Hell, you don’t even know if he has siblings and yet you’re out here telling him your family life. Crazy what some dimples and pretty brown eyes can do to a girl. 

“Oh.” 

Ah, probably should’ve lied about your absent father. Something about him working late should’ve been excuse enough. Well, too late for that you internally groan at. Before you can apologize for making things awkward, he interrupts you. 

“Can we move our tutoring sessions to your place?”

Your jaw drops for a few seconds before you snap out of it, blinking to try to get your brain caught up to speed. “Why?” 

He sighs, turning away to face the elevator doors and you’ve never been more thankful for someone to stop looking at you. “I kinda hate the idea of your little brother waiting at home by himself while you’re tutoring me.” 

“He’s twelve, but as long as you don’t mind coming over here,” you say, glancing over at him, “then okay, we can move to our apartment.” He smiles and you feel this weird pang in your chest. The last time you felt this excited over a person was when you were getting ready for your date with Changkyun the other day. Does that mean you’re starting to actually enjoy Seungcheol’s company? 

Bound to happen considering you spend your Monday and Wednesday afternoons with the guy. It’s just, it feels different than what you felt with Changkyun and part of you just wants to bury that thought away and focus on anything else. Thankfully the elevator ride didn’t last too long and you walked Seungcheol to his car, your chest feeling a little bit tighter as you watched him drive away. 

It’s Saturday and you’re back at the rink to pick up your brother from practice. He’d gotten better and while you were hesitant to drop him off at practice, he insisted that he was all good to practice. You let him go, but not without texting Seungcheol before heading over to practice, asking him to keep an eye on your brother. This was the first time you texted him about something other than about your tutoring sessions and while your hands were shaking just thinking about talking to him about something other than chemistry, thankfully he agreed to keep an eye on your brother. 

You grab a jacket from the backseat, not wanting to freeze while you wait for your brother. He always manages to be the last one out of the rink, always talking to Seungcheol while everyone else skates towards the door to change out of their skates and into their shoes. 

And just like the past couple of weeks, your brother was still out on the ice, except instead of the two standing to the side talking about their practice, the two were skating over across the ice, the small black puck gliding between the two of them as they pass the puck amongst themselves. If you squint, you can see what you assumed is Seungcheol giving your brother tips because soon he nods and adjusts his hold on his stick. 

Then, catching the two of you off guard, he steals the puck from the hockey player, successfully scoring a goal on the unguarded net. Your mouth falls open before cheering for your brother. Sure it wasn't a game changing play, but you were still proud of him. Upon hearing your cheering, your brother skates to the wall where you’re standing, the short wall and the plexiglass the only thing separating the two of you. 

“Did you see that! I totally got him good!” He excitedly told you and you smiled. “Sure did dude, next time I think you should go for his knees, then you’d have no one stopping you,” you joke, smiling as your little brother laughs, complaining how that’s “not very good sportsmanship” but winks at you when Seungcheol skates over to the two of you, wiping off some of the ice shavings off his pants. 

“I can’t believe you’re telling your brother to kill me, princess,” he pouts and you roll your eyes, glad it’s so cold in the rink you can’t tell if your face is burning from the petname or from the freezing temperatures. You roll your eyes, pulling the collar of your jacket higher in an effort to cover your face. “Isn’t that part of the sport Choi, pushing and shoving each other?” 

He shrugs, a smile on his face. “Glad to see you know something about the sport, I see Frosty over has been teaching you.” Your brother groans when he hears his coach use the nickname you gave him once he started hockey. It started off as a small joke that somehow morphed to having the whole team only ever calling him Frosty. Hey, at least he’s already got a marketable name, you told him one day when you were driving back home after practice a few weeks ago.  

You shrug, tugging your jacket tighter. In all actuality your brother hadn’t explained the sport all that much besides the occasional “you don’t do that” or “that’s a good thing” or other vague explanations when you ask him questions. Instead, after a tutoring session with Seungcheol, and as a way to procrastinate an essay you had to work on, you decided to look into the sport. It wasn’t much, just a quick google search about the rules that had you clicking off the site after a few paragraphs and instead watching a couple of matches on youtube. You had half the mind to ask Seungcheol but decided against it. You were just supposed to be tutoring him in chemistry and you thought learning more about the sport he put years in was a little much for you. (And the thought of him in his full uniform was starting to make your heart ache just a little much.) 

“Might as well since I come here once a week,” you say, and Seungcheol smiles, and you wish he didn’t have such a cute smile. His gummy smile is going to be the death of you, you think as you look over to see if your brother’s got his shoes on. 

You don’t know when you started to see Seungcheol in a different light. Probably around the time your brother got sick since that was the first time you got to see him not in a school setting. Or to be more exact, the moment he asked if your tutoring sessions could be moved to your apartment so you could watch over your brother. Whenever it was, you wished it didn’t happen. 

After the results of the chemistry test the two of you have a week, your tutoring sessions would be over since by then you’d know whether or not he’d be good to compete in the tournament. While a part of you was sad to think about not being with him every Monday and Wednesday with him, you’re at least happy about the fact his grade’s would be doing better. And sure, at first you were helping him out reluctantly, but after spending so much time with him, you realized he was nothing like you originally thought he was like. 

Your first meeting really was just a fluke, and he was just a nice guy. You actually had asked him after a few sessions why he was so late to the first tutoring session and you can remember the cute blush that grew on his face as he explained how he was planning the youth hockey team’s practice and lost track of the time. He looked so cute, his cheeks a rosy pink and a small pout on his lips, and that’s when you thought, yeah, he’s not that bad of a guy. 

“Okay, I’m good to go,” your brother says, and you blink, snapping out of your thoughts. You nod, extending your hand to help him carry some of his gear. Noticing your empty motions, Seungcheol takes a step towards you but you shake your head. “I’ll see you on Monday Choi.” 

“Yeah… see you later, princess.” 

You’re really, truly fucked, you come to realize as you stare at your phone. Why, just why did you have to send that text? 

Your friend, who was under the impression you still hated Seungcheol for blowing you off the first tutoring session, asked if there was a way you could set her up with him for a date. And you, still not wanting to admit the fact that you’ve definitely started catching feelings for the captain, agreed to set the two up. And trying to convince yourself that the warm feeling you get in your chest from just seeing him smile meant nothing, you sent a text wondering if he was down to meet with your friend over the weekend. 

And now you’re waiting for a response, hoping that he won’t agree to the date. Hell, you’re on your knees hoping that even if he does say yes, that it goes horrible so they don’t keep meeting. Terrible, yes, but your heart can’t handle the idea of someone who isn’t you by his side. And yet you still won’t admit that you have a crush on him. (Denial is one hell of a drug.) 

When you hear your phone go off from a notification, you push yourself off the floor, where you’ve made home the past couple of minutes. With a shaky hand, you flip your phone over, clicking on the notification. 

Choi 🏒: tell her sorry, I’m not interested in dating right now 🫤

Oh. 

He’s not interested in dating right now? For some reason that hurts more than if he said he is interested in the date. With a shaky inhale you text him back, letting him know you’ll let her know and you toss your phone away, burying your face against your knees. 

Okay so maybe you do have a crush on Seungcheol, big fucking hurray. 

You’re walking back to your car when you hear someone calling out your name. You recognize the voice and freeze, wondering what Seungcheol wants with you and wishing he’d just leave you alone. Despite him doing nothing wrong, you really don’t want to see him right now, especially since you were going to use the drive back home to prepare yourself for your tutoring session with him. 

He runs up to you, a smile on his face as he blocks you from opening the driver’s side. You cross your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow as you look at him. “What’s up Choi?” 

“I came by to tell you that I can’t make it to today’s session.” He explains and you notice how his cheeks are tinted pink. Just how far was he running from? You give him a look as you lean against your car. “So why didn’t you just text me then?” 

“I wanted to see you.” 

Your eyes widen as you turn to face him fully. You feel your face burn as you try unsuccessfully to say something in return. He smiles and you want nothing more than to wipe his adorable smile off his face. The fact he doesn’t even know the emotional turmoil he’s putting you through is insane and you wish he didn’t have this much power over you. You try coughing, covering your face as you look away from him. “Yeah, whatever, is that all you have to say?” 

He nods and he shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweats and still with that frustratingly cute smile, his stupid dimples on full display, “I’m still good for Wednesday though, I want to celebrate our last session before the test Friday.” You nod, a tight lipped smile on display as you wave him goodbye. 

Once in the comfort of your car, you groan, dropping your head on the steering wheel, wishing you weren’t so crushed over this. Things come up all the time, it’s not a big deal he can’t make it today. If anything you can just use this time to get your homework done for the week so you don’t have to worry about it later. Maybe instead of groveling over a guy you could actually be productive for once. 

Wednesday rolls around and you don’t think you’ve given yourself a chance to think about Seungcheol. How could you when you’ve been busy doing your homework, planning what you’d cover in today’s session, helping your brother with his homework, doing all the chores around the apartment, and if you weren’t busy with all that you had your headphones on, not even giving yourself the chance to think. Who needs to think when you’ve been so busy? 

You pull out of the parking lot of the middle school, your little brother grabbing your phone to change the song that was playing. Sticking to a song that you hoped wouldn’t show up on your spotify wrapped, you keep driving, your thoughts starting to drift off to Seungcheol. Catching yourself, you will yourself to listen to the song your brother chose, and you wonder which was worse for your mental health. 

Once in the comfort of your apartment, your little brother heads off to his room claiming how he doesn’t want to watch his older sister flirt with his hockey coach while he does his homework. At first you’d argue that you weren’t but as of late you knew there was no saving yourself and didn’t even try to fight back anymore, only groaning as you started to set the table. 

A few minutes later you hear someone at the door and you take a deep breath, preparing yourself to get through your last session and as a way to prepare your heart for the inevitable. Seungcheol smiles as he steps inside, slipping off his shoes as he places them next to yours. You turn around and your eyes widen as your face heats up as you take in his appearance. He was just wearing a pair of sweats and a black shirt and yet you could feel your heartbeat race at the sight. You quickly turn around, pretending to adjust your notebook as you try to calm your beating heart. He’s worn that outfit combo tons of times and yet now your heart decides to give you trouble. 

If he notices your internal struggle, he doesn’t say anything. He takes his seat at the table, taking out his things as you finally look at him to start. Hopefully your heart can take the next few hours, if not, thankfully your mom’s a registered nurse. 

“Hey princess,” he starts and you, against your better judgment, smile at the petname, “can I ask you something.” You put your pencil down, turning to face him as he put his pencil down, the problem you had given him to work on an afterthought. “Sure, go ahead.” 

“If I ace this test will you come watch me play in my tournament?” He asks, his eyes sparkling with hope and you find yourself leaning against your hand to cover your mouth so he can’t see the dopey smile on your face. “When you say ace, how high of a score are we talking here,” you tease. You don’t know where this sudden confidence came from but if it helps you from burning away in your seat, you’ll take it. 

He smirks, leaning close to you and your breath hitches, freezing in your seat. “I say at least a mid 90.” You chuckle, leaning in close as you internally scream at yourself to back the fuck away from him. “Sure, you got yourself a deal, but I’m expecting the best from you Choi.” You say, beginning to turn away so he can’t see the dopey smile on your face.

“Of course, can't disappoint my princess, can I?” His pointer finger and thumb gently hold your chin, making you look at him and his stupid smug face that you so desperately want to kiss. 

Oh yeah, your heart’s definitely going to explode. 

You think you mutter something along the lines of “in your dreams Choi” but at this point you’re not even sure you can still rangle up enough brain cells to formulate a coherent thought. Heat floods your cheeks as he still holds your face and you swear you see his eyes fall to your lips, or at least you think they do. You’re too busy staring at his lips to really be too sure. 

Somehow your one brain cell manages to scramble enough thoughts to control your body, except it makes you lean in closer to him, close enough you can feel his breath hover over your lips. Your eyes flutter shut and just when you think everything is going great you hear your little brother yell your name from his room and that’s enough to snap the two of you out of the daze you’re in. You clear your throat, excusing yourself as you push out your chair and head to your brother’s room, wondering what the hell he needs that he just needs you right now.

“What do you want?”  You hiss out, leaning against the doorframe of his room. He looks up from his desk, papers scattered across the wooden surface as he turns his swivel chair to face you. He shrugs, “I felt this weird disturbance in the force and called you over here.” 

It takes everything in you to not throw him across his room. You sigh, “yeah that disturbance was born twelve years ago.” 

“Hey!” He throws a pokemon plushie, piplup if you remember correctly, at you. You duck and the plushie hits your bedroom door behind you. You turn around to pick it up, only to immediately throw it back at him, and successfully manage to hit him in the head with it. He stumbles back in his chair and you laugh at him. He glares at you for a moment before breaking out into laughter as well. “Okay fine good aim, I’ll give it to you,” he acknowledges with a surrender of his hands, the plushie back on his shelves, joining the rest of his collection. “Now go back to tutoring Scoups hyung so you can make dinner.” 

You shake your head, a small smile on your face. “You can always make dinner, you should probably start now since I’ll be going off to coll-” 

“Don’t say the c word!” He interrupts, a new pokemon plushie in hand. His eyes are wide and your smile softens before it’s turning into a small pout. The past year you’ve been trying to teach your brother how to take care of things around the apartment since soon it’ll just be him waiting for your mom to come home, but each time he always changes the subject, or even resorting to throwing his plushies to stop the conversation. In that moment you don’t see your twelve year old brother who loves to get on your nerves, instead you see your baby brother who never left your side for anything. Your other half despite the six year difference between the two of you.

Before you know it, your throat tightens up as you watch him lower the plushie, turned away so he’s not looking at you. “Um… you should probably go back to Scoups hyung.” His voice is small, like if speaks any louder and he might start crying.  

You nod, slowly backing out of his room, “yeah, just let me know if you need anything.” You turn to walk out when you turn back to face him, “I’ll make your favorite for dinner tonight.” His head perks up and you smile at him, to which he returns. 

You make it back to the living room to see Seungcheol working on the problems you had left him. You let out a small chuckle, and he looks up, smiling when he notices your back. “Everything okay?” 

You nod, “he’s fine, he was just a little bored.” He smiles and the two of you get back to your homework. Soon enough, the two of you finish, even with the practice you gave him to really prepare him for your upcoming test, and you relax in your seat, a smile on your face. Seungcheol faces you, his smile growing as he looks from his papers to you. “Thank you, I don’t think I could’ve done this without you.” 

You wave his compliment off, your smile perpetually stuck on your face when you're around him. “Nope, it’s all you Choi, I’m simply here to help you. Now you’ve gotta ace this test so I can go watch you win this tournament.” He smiles and you don’t think you’d ever find dimples this cute on another person in your life. 

“Anything for you, princess.” 

You’re walking out of your last period class when you hear Seungcheol call your name out. You turn around, already smiling since you know what this is going to be about, and judging by his voice, it’s going to be good news. 

He runs up to you, stapled papers in hand and you just know it’s his chemistry test. He makes it infront of you, his hands coming up to hold your shoulders in an effort to stabilize himself, his test pressing against your shoulder. “I got my results back!” 

You laugh, your hands coming up to rest over his, smiling and feeling heat begin to creep up your face at the close proximity. “I can tell, but come on I’m dying to know what you got Choi.” A light blush grows on his face as his smile grows, his hands moving away from your shoulders as he straightens up his test since it had gotten crumpled during everything. 

Once it was straightened out, he flipped it over, handing the test to you. You take the test and your eyes widen when you see the large 100 written next to his name. You look up to see him smiling and in your excitement, you pull him into a hug. “Oh my god! I knew you could do it, this is amazing!” He tightens his hold on you, picking you off the ground to spin you in a hug. You’re laughing as he gently sets you down, you’re smiling so much your cheeks are starting to hurt but you don’t even care right now. You’re just so happy for Seungcheol, happy that this means he gets to play in his tournament. 

He pulls you into another hug, muttering into your hair, “thank you, I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.” You pull him closer, “of course Cheol.” 

The day of the tournament arrived and you don’t know why you’re so nervous. Seungcheol and the team have been doing great all day, moving farther and farther up the rackets, and yet you’re still nervous. It probably has to deal with the fact neither of you really discussed what happened last week, the whole really intimate hug in the middle of the hallway and all that. You two actually were texting back and forth the past week, and yet neither of you dared to talk about the hallway incident. 

Just like how neither one of you spoke about the almost kiss back in your apartment. 

So your nerves are most definitely tied to whatever you got going on with the captain of the hockey, the very same captain who’s leading his team to victory. This is the first time you’re seeing Seungcheol in his full uniform and damn, he looks good in his uniform. Something about how it makes him look larger just makes your heart beat faster every time he skates by where you’re sitting. 

The first time he skated by, you watched as he did a double-take before smiling his gummy smile, dimples on full display and waving at you and your brother, who insisted on coming along. (You weren’t going to tell him no, of course you’re going to bring him along.) Occasionally, he’d shoot you a look, smiling at you and you’d wave at him, feeling your face burn up every time. 

It’s the final match of the day, and you don’t think you’ve screamed this much in your life. You always make sure to cheer for Seungcheol every time he makes a goal, and halfway through the day, it turns into a competition between you and your brother on who could cheer the loudest for him. And you’re not about to lose against your brother. 

Somehow the match had gone into overtime due to the teams being tied and you’re at the edge of your seat, your little brother in the same position. At some point he grabbed your gloved hand, squeezing tight as they entered the sudden death overtime. (Why the hell is it called that?) You squeeze his hand as you watch Seungcheol go head to head against someone on the other team and you hold your breath watching as the two try to steal the puck from the other. 

Just when it looks like the other guy’s about to steal the puck, Seungcheol finds an opening, sending the puck into the unguarded goal, making the winning shot. 

You and your brother shoot up in your seats, and you pull him into a hug as you both jump in excitement and happiness. Seungcheol gets affectionately tackled by his teammates as they swarm him, and you can hear them chanting their captain’s name as the announcer relays the winning team. You look over once you’ve calmed down a bit and somehow manage to make eye contact with him. You smile and you mouth “I’m so proud of you," hoping he’d be able to understand you. 

It seems like he does because soon enough it looks like he mouths something along the lines of, “all for you, princess.” 

The tournament’s over now and you’re waiting for your little brother to finish in the restroom before you two head back home. A part of you wishes you’d get to see Seungcheol before leaving but he’s probably busy with after game things and celebrating that you’ll just settle with talking to him some other time. 

You’re about to text your brother to ask him where he’s at when you feel someone come up from behind you, spinning you around. You shriek, holding your phone close to your chest, about to curse out whoever it was when you hear the person laughing and you immediately soften, knowing exactly who it is. 

He sets you back down, turning you to face him. You smile and before you can even open your mouth to congratulate him on winning his senior tournament, he cups your face, leaning in to kiss you. Your eyes widen at the contact before they flutter shut, your own hands coming up to rest over his. His hands are freezing but you don’t mind, not when your face is burning up enough you’re sure you could warm up his hands in minutes. Your hands drift from his to rest over his shoulders, pulling him closer as you lean slightly back, with him following. He pulls away from the kiss to catch his breath, causing you to chase after his lips, already missing the pillowy feeling of them on your own. He chuckles before dipping down to kiss you again when someone clears their throat. 

You groan, already knowing who it is, dreading whatever comment he has to say. You look over your shoulder, only to see your little brother smiling. You definitely expected him to be pulling some disgusted face to make fun of you. Instead he was smiling, smiling so big you would think he just won a year’s supply of his favorite food. 

“If you’re done making out with your boyfriend, do you wanna ask him if he wants to join us for dinner?” 

Seungcheol's hand slips into your own, squeezing your gloved hand as you look up at him. His smile is so big and his cheeks are a pretty pink blush. “I really like the sound of that, what do you think princess?” 

You like that a lot, you think, squeezing his hand as you drag him to follow you and your brother, laughing when you hear his teammates cheering for their captain, for finally getting his girl. 

Maybe tutoring the captain wasn’t so bad after all.

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

When You Need Me Most| Pt2

Jeongin x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Cheating, Mentions of Physical Violence, Cursing, Talks of Death

Pt1 Pt3

MASTERLIST

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The clock clicked tirelessly, making you even more tired than you already were.

You were back home at your apartment after two days at the dorm, even if Chris had insisted you could stay as long as you needed. But you didn't want to seem a burden.

You were close with Chris, but you were closer with Hannah to begin with. So regardless of how much Chan assured you, you felt as if you were loading on problems to him, and he was helping you with them in respects of his sisters close confidant.

It was only 8 a.m. You had called off of work for the next two weeks, deciding that even though now was not the time to give yourself even more time to sit home alone; you didn't think you would be able to focus much at work which in the end would jeopardize your job. So, you found the rest of your shifts to be covered for the past five days you had been on the couch and submitted your vacation time for the weeks following.

You hadn't gotten much sleep considering how uncomfortably shaped your couch was -but refusing to sleep on the bed - and you hadn't eaten much. Overall you felt absolutely shitty.

Every hour or so your phone buzzed with a notification. Hannah had been informed of what had happened, and for the past few days was texting ever hour or so to make sure that your were getting up and eating. She knew you weren't the fondest of constant check ins during your darkest time, but she wanted to make sure her friend was okay.

Although you found it rather annoying that she kept texting even though you hadn't responded. Deep down you knew that you would look back and be appreciative of it, but right now in this moment it just seemed cumbersome to even acknowledge how great of a support you had.

So when she called, you answered in hopes to quell her worries long enough for you to just let go.

Let go.

"Hey, I know you probably don't feel like talking right now, but maybe it'll be good to get your mind off of things. I wanted to gauge your interest in a idea I had for my Blues."

You closed your eyes and listened to Hannah talk about everything under the sun minus the state of your distress.

And for a while it worked.

All throughout you last few of your high school years a first year of college, Hannah did this. She knew that the way you dealt with things was with distraction rather than direction.

She could give you the clinical ways of getting through and past things; but she knew you preferred to just have your mind preoccupied with other things while you worked on what you needed to work on by yourself.

If you needed help you'd ask for it. Thats how it had always been.

While Hannah was in the middle of talking about a slightly Adventure Time themed music video you spoke.

"I feel like dying Hannah."

The line went quiet on the other end and Hannah's voice came through softly.

"I don't blame you. This was your first big relationship. And by that I mean you truly loved him. Everything else you had before was puppy love, so I can understand why this breakup is the most difficult- especially considering it wasn't a clean one or for a neutral reason."

You heard her shift and her voice changed slightly, the clarity lessening and the echo and reverb growing slightly.

"But are you safe now Y/N. While I can validate your feelings, I don't want you to harm yourself in any way shape or form."

"I'm not going to do anything Hannah." You groan. "It slipped out I didn't mean it." You mumbled.

"Regardless Y/N-ie."

"I'm not. So please, stop worrying." You rubbed the patch of skin between your brows. You were starting to get a headache from this. "I'm gonna go now-"

"Ah! Wait Y/N my mom wants to talk to you! MOTHER!" You heard Hannah wail across her home. You mentally face palmed. It had been a minute since you talked to Mrs. Bahng and she was sure to use up that minute and double.

And you just weren't in the mood. But it's not like you had much choice because after a muffled conversation between Hannah and her mom you were subject to listening to her rant about something that had happened to her recently.

You zoned out slightly while she was talking, wanting to get back to your sulking. But you didn't have the heart to tell her that so you just listened.

You were praying for her rant to end just minutes after it started when you heard a loud knocking at your door.

"Oh! Mrs. Bahng, I am so sorry but someone is knocking at my door! I'll make sure to call you back! Much love!" You hung up and went to the door, not thinking much of anything other than going back to your couch, when you opened the door to a smiling Chris.

"Alright! Up, up, up!" He said flicking on the lights in every room while clapping loudly and picking up stray things off the floor. "Get up, get showered, get dressed, you're coming to work with me!"

You looked at Chris as if he had four heads and a tail.

"Chris I don't-"

"Ahhh tatatatata tsk tsk tsk. Don't wanna hear it. Hurry up since Jeongin is waiting. We have to be at the studio for 9:45. It is 9:04. 41 minutes get to it!" He said pushing you towards your bathroom.

"But what about makeup and-"

"Nope! No time!" He said closing the door. You groaned, and got in the shower, thankful that you had a spare change of clothes laying around, or else you would have had to ask Chan to grab them for you, and although you loved and trusted him you didn't really feel like letting him rifle through your drawers.

Soon enough you were outside, letting your body consume it's vitamin d.

Jeongin was standing outside of Chan's car, having walked from the dorm since Chan had left in a rush.

"Is everything okay, you rushed out quickly-" Jeongin said scrolling through his phone but pausing when he looked up and saw you.

"Hi, Y/N how are you?" He asked politely, looking at Chan.

"Y/N's coming with us to work." He said ruffling your hair.

"You can get front." Jeongin says almost immediately, but Bangchan shakes his head.

"I actually have a bunch of crap thrown up front- do you guys' mind sitting in the back?"

You shook your head, although you were quite irritated about having to get up and out of the house.

The ride to the company was quiet but Jeongin's mind was loud.

Chris's car seemed even smaller when sitting in the back, the taller boy struggling to fit nicely in the space- resulting in him having to sit in the middle seat for the slightest bit more leg room. Which meant he was squished up next to you.

You smelled like green apple shampoo and cucumbers, with the slightest hint of sea salt. He credited that to the exfoliating soap you had once mentioned you used when Hyunjin had commented on your fresh scent.

Your hair was slightly wet, and it made him shiver slightly when it fanned against him on a sharp turn.

Keep it together.

He thought to himself.

Multiple times by the end of the day.

Because everything you did- the way you smiled at Felix regardless of your mental state, the way you chewed thoughtfully on your kimbap, down to the way your tongue poked out slightly when you tied your shoes- made his heart do aerials.

Jeongin had been made aware of the situation as did the other boys.

And unbeknownst to you Chan was slowly building your ex's demise brick by brick along with his new interest.

You had been with the rest of the guys when the trainee girl's group had met with 3Racha for some production help.

And needless to say the boys treated the group with respect minus the trainee who had messed around with your boyfriend. The passiveness aggressiveness from Jisung and Chan and the complete lack off attention Changbin gave the specfic girl didn't go unnoticed by her, nor the group. But as her group had no clue of her actions, nor did the girl have a clue of Chris' relation to you; they were all at a loss.

As the girls had settled into the studio, Chan greeted them with his usual warm demeanor, but when his gaze landed on the trainee who had been involved with your ex, his expression subtly tightened.

"Let’s hear what you’ve got," Chan said, gesturing for the group to play their track. His voice was friendly as he addressed the other trainees, and they beamed at his encouragement.

The song began to play, and the first few verses flowed smoothly. Chan nodded along, occasionally glancing at the screen in front of him to follow the track. When it was time for the problematic trainee’s verse, the atmosphere in the room shifted. Chan’s expression grew hard as her part filled the studio.

As soon as her verse ended, Chan paused the track abruptly. The room went silent, the sudden stop causing the girls to exchange nervous glances.

"That part right there," Chan said, his voice calm but laced with an unmistakable edge, "is a complete mess. The flow is all over the place, and it’s missing any sort of cohesion with the rest of the song. It’s like it doesn’t even belong there."

The trainee's face paled, but before she could respond, Jisung chimed in. "Honestly, it’s pretty horrendous. It feels like you’re trying too hard to stand out, but instead, you’re just not fitting in." His words were blunt, his tone leaving no room for misinterpretation.

Changbin, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke. "There’s no emotion behind your rap. It’s flat, lifeless. If you can’t bring some genuine feeling into your performance, it’s going to drag the whole group down." He didn’t bother to look at her as he delivered his critique, his attention already shifting back to the other trainees.

The other girls sat in stunned silence, clearly uncomfortable with the harshness of the feedback directed at their group mate. But Chan, Jisung, and Changbin seemed entirely unfazed, moving on as if the criticism they’d just given was nothing out of the ordinary.

As they continued reviewing the track, Chan made sure to lavish praise on the other members of the group. "Great job with that harmony, really tight," he said to one of the other trainees, his smile genuine and encouraging. "And your timing is spot on," Jisung added to another, his voice warm and approving.

But when it came to the problematic trainee, it was like she wasn’t even in the room. The boys would skip over her entirely, asking the other members about their parts or offering advice, all while completely ignoring her presence.

At one point, the girl tried to ask a question, her voice small and hesitant. "Chan-oppa, do you think if I adjusted the rhythm a bit here, it would—"

Chan cut her off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Honestly, there’s not much you can do to fix it," he said, not even bothering to look up from the console. "It’s not about tweaking one part. The whole thing just… doesn’t work. Also it isn't Chan-oppa to you, I would suggest you learn to rrspect your superiors or you'll make a bad image for JYPE. Although it seems like you might have already..." Changbin and Jisung gave sarcastic faces and chuckles as Chan turned back to the soundboard, leaving, the girls confused as to how one of their members had already been completely iced out by three of the best producers in the industry.

And it wasn't much better in the upcoming days, your ex boyfriend feeling the wrath of Lee Minho as he demeaned the leader's dancing ability and took his ego down a couple of notches.

"Your dancing is immaculate...for someone who is destined to be a backup dancer for JYP." When the boy stuttered, asking for help Lee Know just gave him a cold shoulder and turned his focus to the other members of the group, praising them for their skills.

And to top it off they were both met with swayed public opinion after Seungmin decided to make a few passive aggressive comments in one of his lives.

"Yeah, I've talked to all the new trainee groups. But the boy group? They're good but if I had a bias it wouldn't be their leader. And I like the new girl group, they remind me of a group like Blackpink, but their rapping isn't like Blackpink. The only similarity they have is they're both maknaes." He pinched his fingers gently. "Maybe this much progress. Being an idol is hard." He dismissed the skill of the rapper; that woman so easily and said it all so quickly fans were confused.

seungmins.untied.left.shoe: Why does Seungmin seem mad?

big.binn3e_jiddie.tiddi3s: What did he say someone translate?

lalalalalisa143: BLACKPINK MENTIONED RAHHHHHH

You spent your time off going to work with Chan. He wanted to make sure that you were okay, and not going to do anything to hurt yourself. And being around the boys did help you feel better.

But strangely it was Jeongin who helped the most.

Chris had yet to clean his front seat oddly, so every morning you were in the back with Jeongin. It was odd that something so simple brought you so much comfort. He had noticed you were skipping breakfast, so every morning he brought you a homemade yogurt and fresh fruit drink.

"Mmm! This is really sweet! You must have gotten fresh fruit!" You sipped happily, blissfully unaware that Jeongin would add in two extra scoops of sugar, and taste it every time to make sure it was sweet enough, even if it made his jaw hurt slightly.

Or how he would make sure to ask the staff to order you food at 3:45, since you were always hungry.

Or how he would purposefully leave out his jacket in the sound room, since he knew you always got cold in there.

Or most importantly how he made sure you would never have to run into either of the two people you diliked, by figuring out their schedules, and making sure you were no where near where they would be.

He was quietly loving a supporting you from afar, and while you may have been oblivious to the action, you weren't oblivious to the feeling; even if you hadn't pinpointed just where it was coming from.

But as your vacation time was winding down, Jeongin decided to treat you.

"Y/N, Channie-Hyung is working with the others right now, but I've already recorded my part. He gave us his card." He waved it and grew a mischievous grin. "Want to go get strawberry cheesecake?"

"I love strawberry cheesecake!" You exclaimed, jumping up on your toes twice.***

"I know that's why I suggested it pabo!" He laughed as you made your way to the cafe near the building.

Soon enough you were standing in line, waiting to order. Jeongin was behind you, wearing a mask and beanie that covered all of his hair minus the small tuffs of black hair at the nape of his neck.

He had an odd feeling, as if someone was watching him and you. But he shrugged it off, since he doubted anyone would recognize him. With what he was wearing. He looked like any normal person on a date.

Date...this couldn't be considered a date could it? He smiled under his mask as he moved forward in the line absentmindedly. Well, maybe it isn't a date but it sure does look like one to outsiders. Ha, they're probably so jealous that I'm with someone as beautiful as Y/n-

"Hey do you-" You let out a small "oop" since you hadn't realized how closely Jeongin was standing behind you, which in turn allowed you to fling your hair at him, getting a large strand tangles in a button miraculously.

"Ah.." You groaned, your ear to his chest slightly. You tried to pull away but the cashier called "next" and Jeongin moved up not realizing your hair was stuck and accidentally letting it get tangled more. He winced when he noticed but saw the growing population in the cafe and just moved his large hand up to cup your head gently.

"Sorry, Nabi." He whispered quietly, not even realizing the pet name slipped out. Your eyes widened and you stayed with your ear pressed against his chest, hearing the rumbles as he ordered for both of you.

His heart thumped with a steady rhythm, and you were more than sure that your heartbeat was far from that.

Rather it was erratic and loud and wild.

Nabi. He had called you so sweetly, so purely. With the gentleness of what he called you. Butterfly.

After he finished ordering and paid, he stepped aside with you to help get your hair unstuck.

His long and slender fingers worked as quickly and as gently as they could. He released the top button so he could get to the root of the problem.

"Almost...tell me if I'm pulling too hard, m'kay?" Only his eyes were visible above his mask, but they harbored something you couldn't pinpoint, something you weren't used to.

After the last piece of hair was untangled his eyes narrowed in happiness.

"All free!" The way his voice sounded made your stomach twirl in a good and warm way. But you didn't think much of it.

It must be since he's being kind...

After your order number was called out Jeongin and you chose a two-person table away from the people, so he could take of his mask and enjoy his dessert.

He set your cheesecake in front of you, and his pastry in front of himself, handing you a fork.

The moment he pulled down his mask he had an odd feeling once more. But ignored it once more in favor of watching your immense joy as you devoured your treat.

"Thank you." You said in between a bite. "It's been rought the past few weeks...but...I've found comfort in being around all of you guys. To be honest I kind of relied on Chris and my ex to be the closest to me but...we're really close too."

Your smile warmed his heart, and he opened his mouth to speak. "Y/N I have some-"

"It's nice to be able to go out to a cafe and not feel scared. There was always this one sasaeng who followed my ex around..." You hummed thoughtfully. "It's nice not to be on edge."

Jeongin paused. "Sasaeng?" He said quietly.

You nodded. "She was obsessed with him. I got a threat from her once...I didn't take anything from it because I knew she wouldn't act on it but still was a little nerve racking." You looked up and saw a worried expression on the boys face. "Inni-"

His eyes had connected with a phone that was sticking out of purse in a discreet manner.

"Y/N what did she look like."

Your eyes widened and trailed to where Jeongin was looking. She wasn't facing in your direction but you knew.

"We gotta go." He said pulling his mask up. "Don't move to quickly though just act normal." You got up and made you way out.

"I'm sorry- I'm sorry I didn't think she would follow me if I wasn't with him-"

"You're fine Nabi, it isn't your fault." He said as you made your way back through a back way.

He instinctively grabbed you your wrist to lead you, his grasp gentle but firm, his hand sliding down into yours as he pulled you along.

By the time you made it back to the building there was a slight buzz and while Jeongin immediately went to look for his Hyung, you went to go with Felix.

There was definitely and underlying issue going on, and you wondered if the sasaeng had already leaked photos or videos to the press.

Felix tried his best to quell your worries but nothing would do. You felt as if you just caused an issue that would ruin Stray Kid's reputation Jeongin's reputation.

You left Felix to go pace around, which proved to be the wrong idea. The minute you turned the corner you ran into the one man you didn't want to see, the one who has sparked a chain reaction of issues.

He sneered at you, getting close to you, causing you to flinch slightly.

"You happy Y/N, huh? You happy that you're going to ruin my fucking career?!" His voice rose and you slunk back even more. His hand immediately went to your chin and pushed your face up harshly.

He was angrier than on the night you caught him, and it scared you.

"You're trying to throw away my life's work!" He steeped even closer, his grip tightening. "I'm not going to let that happen you hear me?" He shoved you as you were stepping back, causing you to lose your balance completely and fall backwards, landing on the ground, your ankle twisting in an uncomfortable - but not entirely odd - fashion.

Before you could even look up you heard a sickening crunch and your ex stumbled back. Within seconds he was up again lunging at whoever punched him but just as quickly as all this happened you were be scooped up and Jeongin and your ex were both being restrained. Two of the Day6 members held back your ex while three NEXZ members held back Jeongin as he was yelling profanities at the one who had shoved you. Their arguing voices were loud enough to have those in the surrounding halls come rushing in and security on site. Both boys were trying to get at each other, and security had to break it up, the anger of your friend making it extremely hard for them to restrain him.

"YOU FUCKING COWARD! FIGHT ME LIKE A REAL MAN INSTEAD OF PUTTING YOUR HANDS ON A GIRL!" He shouted. You saw Chan, Minho and Changbin rushing over. Jeongin was still yelling insults, getting out of the grips of those pushing him back. So Changbin instead pushed through to wrap his arms around the baby of their group, easily lifting him as he flailed.

"Let me at him Hyung! Let me at him!" He reminded you of an angry chihuahua. But on a larger scale. He wasn't a fighter, but he had immediately turned to violence when you got involved.

The lobby area was filled with people now and Jeongin was crying inpure anger and overwhelming emotions.

"Let me at him!"

Changbin stood in front of the door of the room they brought Jeongin and and Christopher went to go scold him for his actions. Gentle but firm nonetheless.

"You can't hit people Jeongin, regardless of how much you want to. Trust me I want to hit that bastard everytime I see him."

"He hit Y/N! I'm tired of him. I'm tired of hearing talk shit about someone I love! I wasn't going to let him hit someone I love!"

Bangchan stiffened when Jeongin mentioned the word hit.

His jaw clenched and he wiped a few tears off of Jeongin's cheek before stepping out of the room. Minho sat next to Jeongin and patted his shoulder comfortingly.

Your mind was racing at a million thought a minute, but they were all tracing back to what Jeongin had said.

Love. Love. Love.

You sat down alongside the wall until staff came in and whisked Jeongin away, without as much as a word. You stood up abd tried to follow but Minho stopped you.

Love. Love. Love.

"Will he be fired?" You heard yourself ask. You didn't hear Minho's response as your mind became loud again.

If he gets fired...it's because he defended me. Out of love. Love.

You swallowed and followed Minho back to his and Jisung's dorm the latter asking questions about the situation he missed.

If he's fired its because of love. Love will ruin his career. It's my fault. What a stupid thing that makes people do stupid shit. Irrational.

Love.

What a horrendous thing.

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

@leezanetheofficial @yaniiiiism

[selencgraphy]

— 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒

prompt drabble series - nonverbal ways to say ‘i love you’

5 - remembering a trivial fact about them

prompts from promptingyou

PAIRING: logan howlett x gn!reader

TAGS: they/them pronouns for reader, fluff, actions speak louder than words is logan’s strong suit, tall!logan bc i love hugh jackman :)

A/N: deadpool and wolverine revived my love for logan so this is just self-indulgent bc i love him so so much. the x-men movies were my gateway into marvel so i just have to show my man some love yk? happy reading <3

WORD COUNT: 597

masterlist || request box <3

You and Logan weren’t that close. Aside from having rooms right next to each other and being co-workers, you didn’t know much about him. Rarely were you ever in a room with him when it was just you two. 

Heading over to the kitchen for a midnight snack, you stumble upon him smoking by the window. “Can't sleep either?" you asked as you quietly padded across the wood. 

Logan merely grunted in response, taking a drag of his cigar. Grabbing the tub of your favorite ice cream from the freezer, you took a seat at the counter. The tub was practically almost empty so you resorted to eating straight out of it. "Are those really any better than regular cigarettes?" you carefully asked in hopes of breaking the awkward silence—well, at least to you it was awkward. At your question, he turned over his shoulder and leaned to sit down against the window sill, his eyebrows furrowed a little deeper than they normally were.

"Haven't tried anything but these," he replied, glancing down at it before looking back at you, a hint of confusion in his eyes.

"What?"

"You're the first person who's caught me smoking inside that didn’t immediately remind me of Chuck's stupid rule."

"I mean… it is a good rule considering this whole place is built of wood," you joked, taking another bite of ice cream before speaking again. "I'm not one for rules either anyways. It'd be a bit hypocritical of me to get on your case, don't you think?"

He hummed, the tiniest smirk on his face at your nonchalance. He'd been living and teaching (begrudgingly) at the mansion for a while now, but a lot of the kids and other X-Men were still intimidated by him. His tough guy façade certainly didn’t help much but that’s just how he was used to living after being alive for almost 200 years. But that never seemed to deter you. Putting out his cigar, he started to head back to his room. "Don't stay up too late, bub," he muttered as he passed you.

"Night, Logan,” you called over your shoulder, scraping the sides of the tub as you finished it out. Throwing it away, you made a mental note to grab more whenever you went back out to get groceries.

A couple days later…

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath as you made your way down to the kitchen. It was pretty early in the day, but you weren’t one to let the time of day deter you from snacking on a few scoops of ice cream. Then you remembered. You had eaten the last bit the other night when you ran into Logan and had yet to restock. Damn.

So it came as a surprise to see yet another full tub in the freezer when you went to rummage through it to find something else to satiate your sweet tooth. A post-it was taped to the top of it, big black letters scrawled across it.

For Y/N. If you’re not them, do not touch this. - Logan

Your face brightened as you read it. Sure, it wasn’t that sweet of a message, but you’d take what you could get. Pulling it out, you realized it was the same exact flavor—your favorite flavor—and brand you loved. You’d barely spent five minutes with each other the other night, but he remembered.

“I gotta thank him later,” you thought to yourself as you sat down, your day made by the gesture. Maybe your efforts to befriend him weren’t a lost cause after all.

[foodfightnovelization]

More Foodfight! Material DISCOVERED

That's right, I'm back. Just like I prophesized in my last post, yet another treasure trove of Foodfight! goodness has been uncovered, and this might be one of the strangest to date...that's right, official Foodfight! Cinnamon Sleuth Cereal was sold at Albertsons back in 2007, over five years before the movie finally came out!

Okay, not really, but I had you going for a second, right? So, this IS a proposed packaging design for actual Cinnamon Sleuth cereal, but it never went into production, it never made it to stores and there was certainly never any actual cereal to be eaten. This, among several other designs and a collection of behind the scenes material, was sent in recently by a Foodfight! crewmember, who explained they were mockups created to show off possible tie-in products. I'm not sure why they chose Albertsons for these mockups but it's likely they were in talks with them at the time and wanted to show off designs including their branding. In any case, I just had the Cinnamon Sleuth box printed because I thought it'd look cool next to my collection of Foodfight! merchandise, and I wanted to see if anyone would be convinced this really existed.

I've included all the designs above in case you want to print your own- there are several more including another cereal, brownie packaging and milk cartons. Curiously, the milk cartons have Farmland Dairy logos on them, with Farmland Milk actually appearing in the finished film at several points. I'd say this confirms my theory these mockups were created to show to companies they were already actively working on deals with, but I can't say for certain that was the case.

Equally curious are these character sheets from 2002, seemingly showing off almost every model created during early production. There are so many fascinating layers to this- Sunshine is still a human instead of a catgirl, showcasing a very different model to the one seen in the initial trailer, and Maximilius Moose is still a dog named Panzer Pup, both aspects that were changed once the decision was made to change Dex to a dog. However, it may be that Dex's human design was edited out and replaced after the fact, given Dex's model here appears to be the one from the finished film (you can tell by the weird hands). In any case, it's fascinating to get a closer look at all these characters- while the majority of the models for the main cast were found recently (see my last post for more on this), there are a bunch of side characters here we've only seen brief glimpses of before, including the Pringles man and the scantily-clad Cherry Waifer. The most fascinating to me however are the Red and Yellow M&Ms- I've read through their scene in the movie's script, I've seen multiple versions of the storyboard, even rough layout animation in the workprint, and it's only now I'm FINALLY getting to see their actual character models and how they would've looked in the Foodfight! artstyle. Sure, they more or less look exactly as they did in M&M commercials that aired around the same time, but it's still amazing to actually see these characters modelled and rendered after analyzing so many different iterations of the scene as it went through development.

The crewmember in question also sent a folder containing over a hundred stills which while at first glance appear to be from the finished movie, are actually subtly different in multiple ways- usually lighting, facial expressions, or background textures like the sky or color of a hill. A lot of these are labelled "fix" which makes me speculate if after the movie was completed, the crew went back and tried to touch up the animation to make it look more appealing before release. Is there a slightly better looking version of Foodfight! somewhere out there in the world? Who knows, but really it would've been like trying to polish a turd. The movie was already ruined by then, and I don't think any number small changes would've done much to salvage it. However, that does bring me to my next interesting point...

There are also storyboards dated May 2011, depicting an alternate opening to the movie giving a much more cinematic introduction to the main characters. It's crazy to think they were still working on storyboards so late in production, but there IS actually a reason for this. I unfortunately can't upload the entire sequence due to this site's image limit, but what you might notice are a lot of characters being described as "flying over the audience", "flying into the camera" or knocking things "into the audience", with some of the boards having "(3D)" written in parenthesis next to them. It's my belief that very late into production, Kasanoff wanted the movie to be 3D, made popular by the then-recent Avatar, and this new opening sequence full of flashy 3D effects was drawn up to show off what they could do with the technology. It's not clear if any of this was ever actually animated, but imagine going to see a movie that advertises itself as 3D but only the first minute contains any 3D elements. Of course, Kasanoff requesting this is only speculation on my part, but given how the movie was ruined by the crew having to cater to his whim of directing the whole thing with motion capture (made popular by the then-recent Polar Express) it's no stretch to assume the 3D opening sequence was a similar situation.

There's a ton more that was sent to us as well, so much so that I could never hope to talk about all of it. However, it should be on archive.org at the time of writing this if it isn't already, and you can now access everything Foodfight! related through the official Foodfight! collection on there!

That's right, so much Foodfight! material has been uploaded over the past year that the Internet Archive gave it its own archive, allowing you to find everything in one convenient place (including my scans of the novelization and Deluxe Sound Storybook). It'll also be updated periodically whenever something new is found, so it'll always be the home to all things Foodfight!. Whether you're wanting to take a look at some concept art shown in ROTTEN: Behind The Foodfight, read through an early draft of the script, or check out something I've talked about on my blog, it's all here at your fingertips.

I don't think there's ever really going to be an end to the depth of the Foodfight! rabbithole. I thought I was done a year ago when I finished analyzing the novelization, and look at everything that's been found since then. Every time I think I'm out, this movie pulls me back in. So...in my next post I'll FINALLY show off my collection of Foodfight! merchandise and talk about what this movie means to me, but that doesn't mean it's the end for this blog. Whenever I say I'm done with Foodfight! I end up jinxing it, so if I try to conclude things now in a few months some CD will show up with a bunch of lost footage on it, I'll get mailed concept art of a bunch of characters we've never seen before, or it'll turn out Larry Kasanoff was actually D.B. Cooper the whole time. So as long as there's something new to discuss, as long as there's a Foodfight to be fought, I'll keep updating this blog from now until forever. You better duck when they launch the cream pies!

[cindytoast404]

hatchetfield dashboard simulator

🎧average-theater-enjoyer Follow

whoever got the last tickets to mamma mia i hope you fucking die

☄️harbringeroftheapotheosis Follow

I have good news for you, op!

3,428 notes

🌺cryingonthefloor-deactivated20210424

running for honey queen this year, wish me luck!!!

🛍️ queenb-deactivated20210503

Alright, Liz Cunningham from Clivesdale.

🌻fuck-clivesdale1935 Follow

GUYS OP JUST GOT DRIVEN OUT OF TOWN WHAT LMAO

🪶birdwatcher Follow

To be fair, she was from Clivesdale. Anyway, respect for whoever got rid of her. You’re an icon.

🪻thetheoristsofhatchetfield Follow

oh my god this post is so interesting. there’s doxxing. both original commenters are now missing or dead. did some research and apparently the honey queen pageant winners have kept turning up missing every year. what is going on over there

☁️floatingupabove Follow

that’s just the average beauty pageant experience

6,364 notes

🐽theonewhofeastsinthedark Follow

cannibalism 👍

72,263 notes

📱alicewoodward Follow

does anyone else think we should shut down watcher world? i mean that place has gotta be violating at least 5 different safety rules, right

💜blinky’s-sniggles-deactivated20200104

ihaven’t eaten in a week! ::)

📱alicewoodward Follow

jesus christ don’t you guys have like. a union or something

💜blinky’s-sniggles-deactivated20201004

we would, but then he’d get mad! :::)

📱alicewoodward Follow

god. can someone get these bitches a lawyer

👨‍⚖️garygoldstein-attorney Follow

Hi, Gary Goldstein, Attorney at Law-

📱alicewoodward Follow

does this town really only have one lawyer

73 notes

👁️ watcher-world-official Follow

This is your friendly reminder to tell a Watcher World employee if you see a sniggle acting against the rules. This includes accessing social media of any kind, including tumblr. It is forbidden by the Watchers, and any sniggles caught using it will be reprimanded.

On another note, ticket prices are now 50% cheaper! Stop by for a weekend of fun. You’ll never want to leave!

43,464 notes

🪴emma-the-crabby-barista Follow

some guy just walked into beanies and just ordered a cup of black coffee for once. see this is how it should be. no fancy drinks, make my life easier. tall random stranger i am in love with you

🪴emma-the-crabby-barista Follow

update: we’re dating

264 notes

🖼️ horror-lover Follow

okay but why is wiggly kinda… 😳😳

☁️ floatingupabove Follow

THE DOLL??!???

🍏 uncle-wiley Follow

I literally sold my soul for that bastard and this still threw me for a loop.

🤓pete-has-been-waiting-for-five-fucking-years Follow

Why is there blue in my hot chocolate.

☄️ harbringeroftheapotheosis Follow

i recommend you drink it!!! :)

🤓pete-has-been-waiting-for-five-fucking-years Follow

…Okay.

🤓pete-has-been-waiting-for-five-fucking-years Follow

i feel like singing.

712 notes

[hariboz]

PROMISE ME…!

“when you don’t tell your boyfriend you’re sick and still perform!”

pairing: idol!bf!ricky x gn!idol!reader

genre: fluff, tiny angst (?)

warning: mention of headaches, blurry vision, nausea and similar symptoms, softie bf!ricky, that’s it i think?

notes: ty to nonnie for requesting this!! i got a little carried away but i got into a pretty good flow writing it so i hope you enjoy 🥹🫶🏻 also!! this is my first time writing idol!reader so i hope it feels somewhat realistic…? as realistic as it can be i guess 😵‍💫

word count: 1.8k (😵‍💫 how and why…)

five, six, seven, eight.

five, six, seven, eight.

five, six, seven—

“y/n, are you okay?” the voice of your leader rips you out of your trance, your tired eyes meeting in the mirror. you nod and put on a bright, although fake smile in hopes of being reassuring, though you’re not sure you were being all too convincing — either way, none of your members pry, because they understand. they understand the need to push through, especially now with all these end of the year award shows happening; you simply can’t afford to be sick, to fall behind and to be absent from such huge events. so, you decide to push through the dizziness, nausea and pain. you’ll take some medication later, it’ll be fine. (at least that’s what you’re telling yourself when you catch yourself stumbling from the dizziness when you get ready to practice your solo entrance.) even though there is a silent understanding between you and your members, there still is one person you know you won’t be able to convince, no matter how hard you’ll try — your boyfriend and professional overthinker in regards to your well-being, ricky.

it’s quite cute, the juxtaposition of his public image and the way he tends to worry. did you eat? does your throat hurt from vocal practice? did you trip during dance practice again? (a question that’s especially annoying considering you told him about tripping once, roughly six months ago. he refuses to let it go.) he sends you teas and throat sprays to make sure your voice is taken care of, secretly checks the soles of your shoes to make sure they aren’t getting slippery, somehow manages to pack you little snacks you can munch on when you haven’t eaten anything before practice again. he’s very rarely stern, much too soft-spoken and gentle towards you to speak to you in a more serious manner when he’s worried, so he shows his care and love through these things — which makes you feel all the more guilty when you straight up have to lie to him when he asks if practice is going fine, if you’re feeling well, and letting you know how excited he (along with gyuvin, he mentions) is to see you perform in person up close.

you try your hardest to get better before the performance, you really do. well, as much as you can between hours and hours of practice and barely any sleep, at least. all your efforts seem to be in vain, though, because the day of the performance seems to be the worst day yet — if you had a choice, you would bury yourself under every blanket available and not leave your bed for at least a week, that’s how awful you feel when you and your members are picked up from your dorm during the wee hours of the morning.

unfortunately, the little perfectionistic gremlin that lives at the back of your mind refuses to let all these weeks of practice go to waste, so you muster up a brave smile through your shaking pupils and tell your worrying members that you have everything under control — you’ll smash this performance just like all the other ones, even if you have to do it while being a little dizzy. it’s no big deal, you’re a professional after all.

your stylists is making some last minute adjustments to your outfits when a gentle knock sounds through the room, a very familiar blonde head of hair popping in. you rush over to ricky, his arms snaking around you immediately. “hey, handsome,” you mutter as you observe his face, a small grin playing on his lips. “you’re not looking to bad yourself, hm?” his voice is smooth as he brushes some of your hair out of your face, careful to not interfere with your hairstylist’s hard work. you’re thrown off your balance a little when another dizziness spell hits you out of nowhere, the look on ricky’s face immediately morphing into one of concern, “are you okay?”

you muster up a smile and just nod, eyes blinking rapidly to dispel the black dots bouncing around in your vision, “yeah, i’m just a little nervous,” you reach up to adjust his collar to avoid meeting his worried eyes, “i’m fine. just freaking out a little, that’s all.” you can tell ricky doesn’t entirely believe you, but he trusts that you would come to him if there was something wrong — so he reluctantly lets the subject go. he steals a quick kiss to your lips, whispering a “good luck, i love you.” before he turns to leave to make any last preparations for his own performance.

your first wave of regret overcomes you when you stand ready beneath the stage, you and your members getting into position to perform the intro to your performance. your head feels like it’s about to split and your hands are shaky, but it’s too late to turn back now — as queen sunmi once said, the show must go on.

your second wave of regret comes when you’re actually on stage, all the lights, the music, the screams and your in-ear monitor feeling less like the dream you’ve worked so hard to achieve and more like your own personal hell. your group having your own amazing entrance with one of the stage elevators excited you at first; unfortunately, right now you’re preoccupied with managing your expressions to make sure you won’t let any irritation or discomfort slip.

your third and final wave of regret comes when you stand in the middle of the stage in this massive venue, tens of thousands of eyes on you as you start to perform your solo part of the song — your head is pounding and you can barely hear your own voice through your in-ears anymore, your steps are shaky and imprecise, your vision is blurry. you manage to push through, somehow, but it’s clear in the way your chest is heaving once the lights go out that you’re not well.

the atmosphere is very much tense in the part of the audience where your fellow idols sit, all of them having to cover their very obvious concern with faux excitement — you pulled it off well enough, but it’s clear to every single one of them that you’re sick and that you probably should not have performed. ricky especially has to keep his expressions in check, because the mix of worry and concern but also frustration and maybe a little anger is raging heavily inside him right now.

the worry and concern are obvious, the last thing he wants to see is you being sick, much less performing in that state. the frustration is bubbling inside him because he knows that you know better, that even the chance of you hurting yourself even worse by performing while sick is enough reason to sit out one performance. the anger is entirely directed at your staff and maybe some of your members, your leader at least — they must’ve seen that you were unwell, no? and they still let you on stage? is that not what managers and leaders are for, to take matters into their own hands and to know what’s best for their members? it all comes to a head when your members join the other idols in the audience while you’re nowhere in sight.

ricky is getting restless, his hands sprawling against his dress pants, occasionally pinching the fabric to keep his mind occupied. gyuvin and matthew both gave him little reassuring pats on his back but neither did much to comfort him, his mind entirely preoccupied with worrying about you and counting down the minutes to when he will finally be able to check up on you backstage.

it’s about an hour later when the award show is finally over, and for once ricky is the first one to rush backstage, a little ahead of all of his members. he swerves past staff and security and doesn’t even bother knocking on your group’s dressing room, ripping the door open to find your shocked but still very exhausted eyes staring up at him in surprise, “ricky?”

he’s in front of you in the blink of an eye, squatting down to meet you eye-to-eye, his hands gently cradling your face, “are you okay? for real, this time?” his brows are furrowed and you feel a little bad for thinking that he looks pretty handsome all serious like this. you nod sheepishly, apology ready to spill from your lips when he squishes your cheeks together to silence you, “shhh, you listen to me. never do that again, okay? do you know how scary that was, watching you perform like that? what if something had happened, you know you could’ve—,” he stumbles over his words a little, clearly worked up, “i don’t know, fallen off stage or something. you could’ve fainted! or you could’ve broken something or— i don’t know, just, promise me, don’t do that again.” ricky’s once so stern voice turns soft towards the end again, never really able to keep up his serious tone for long, especially towards you.

“‘m sorry, just didn’t want to let anyone down,” you mumble, leaning into his touch. his cold hands on your face feel incredibly nice, a stark contrast to your feverish face. he sighs and one of his hands comes up to brush your hair away from your face, his hand stroking your head softly, “i know, but still. don’t do stuff like that, okay? talk to someone when you’re not feeling well. your managers, your members, me — there’s so many people you can go to, okay? anyone, as long as you tell someone,” you nod along to him, and maybe it’s the guilt of making him worry so much or the fact that you’re overwhelmed from the amount of affection coming from him while you’re still a little delirious, but you feel like you need to lighten the atmosphere with a little joke.

“even gyuvin?” the gentle expression on his face falls almost immediately, replaced by a very unimpressed stare. you break out into quiet giggles, muttering a “sorry” before pressing a kiss to his cheek. ricky grumbles a little before getting back up, running his hand through your hair gently one last time. “i have to go back now but i’m ordering you some soup to your dorm later. you’re on bedrest for the next few days, you hear me?” he tries to sound stern again and puts on his best serious face, but his façade is broken when you smile up at him so tiredly, the exhaustion clear on your face.

“thank you, i love you,” you call after him when he turns to leave, ricky sending you a flying kiss before leaving the room, “love you too.”

(your fourth wave of regret came when you realised ricky formed an alliance with your members, all of them exchanging “y/n intel” to make sure all of them can keep an eye on you while you’re recovering.)

[thatgirlstrawberry]

Teach Me?

Feb. Requests - 1

In which Spencer asks the reader for help after he buys a keyboard.

Warnings: Smut!!! Fluff, cute/awkward!Spence, making out, oral sex(m), soft dom!Spencer? Hair pulling?, protected piv sex(be safe y’all), lmk if I missed anything!

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Spencer’s breath shook as he dialed Y/N’s number. He bit his lip before inhaling deeply.

The phone rang twice before Y/N’s sweet voice filled his ears. “Hello?”

The man smiled. “H-hi, Y/N! It’s S-Spencer.” He spoke quickly. “Are you busy?” He asked. He knew she was at work at this moment. She worked at the music store across the street from his favorite coffee shop.

They met when she was getting coffee before having to go to work. Spencer insisted on walking her across the street after they’d talked for thirty minutes.

“Uh… not right now. I do have a kid coming in for a lesson in five minutes, though.” She said. Spence could tell she was smiling.

“I uh…” He cleared his throat. “I had a case the other day a-and then I went out and bought a keyboard because of this little boy that I worked with.” He started off. He wondered if he was talking too much, if he should just get to the point. “Uh… and this was an impulse decision because I don’t actually know how to play any musical instruments. I did try to play the trombone in high school but I got made fun of and-“

Y/N giggled quietly. “Spence, did you want me to stop by when I get off of work? I can teach you to play.”

Spencer smiled at her warm tone. “Yes, thank you. I would really appreciate that.” He nodded even though she could see him.

-at the music store-

“Okay, great! How’s your day going so far?” Y/N asked, leaning over the counter. She glanced up at the door when an elderly woman and her husband came in. She shot them a smile and they nodded at her.

Spencer cleared his throat. “I’m good, just doing paperwork today. I’m actually about to head home. How’s your day?” he asked.

Y/N sighed and looked down at the lesson sign up sheet. “Good. Though, I had a fourteen year old scream at me because she couldn’t figure out how to play Twinkle Twinkle little star.” She giggled.

She heard Spencer laugh. “Well I promise I won’t scream at you, Y/N/N.”

Y/N checked her watch and saw a boy and his mother coming in. “That’s good, Spence. Hey, look— I gotta go but I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yes- yeah, I’ll see you tonight.”

She said goodbye and hung up the phone, sliding it in her back pocket, waving at the boy and his mom. “Hey, Kevin! Ready to be a rockstar?”

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Spencer sped around his apartment making sure that everything was perfect and neat.

He didn’t have a bench to set in front of his new keyboard so he moved his coffee table into the kitchen and pulled the instrument in front of his couch.

He had also stopped at Y/N’s favorite Italian place and got dinner. He stopped in front of the door when he turned back and realized that this might have been too much.

Before he could scramble around again and unnecessarily move things, there was a knock at the door.

He silently cursed and shut his eyes. He exhaled deeply and opened the door with his eyebrows raised and a smile on his lips. “Y/N, thank you so much again for coming over.” He greeted.

“I couldn’t say no to my favorite guy!” She smiled, walking past him into the apartment. “And I got dinner from your favorite Chinese place.” She smiled nodding down at the brown paper bag in her arms. “I should have called and asked if you had eaten but- oh.” She stopped when she saw the containers from her favorite food place.

Spencer blushed as she turned around. “I- got dinner too.”

Y/N smiled. “Well who says we can’t have Spaghetti and fried rice?”

Spencer subtly admired her as she went to set the bag in the kitchen. “Why is your coffee table in the kitchen?” She giggled.

Spencer followed behind her, scratching the back of his neck. “I needed space for my keyboard, so I put it in front of my couch so we had space.” He finally got a good look at her outfit.

She wore a pair of really tight skinny jeans, that showed off the curve of her ass and hips perfectly and a loose red sweater. Spencer was glad she wasn’t looking at him because then she would have seen him visibly gulp as he gawked at her beautiful curves.

Y/N nodded and laughed. “Okay. Is it okay if we start after we eat? I didn’t get a lunch break because freaking Kevin couldn’t get the keys right.” She rolled her eyes sarcastically.

“Freaking Kevin.” Spencer joked, rolling his eyes as well. “Yeah, let’s eat.”

.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Y/N laughed as she finished her egg roll, looking away from Spencer who had his mouth dropped open in shock as they finished an episode of Hoarders on Netflix.

“She has cat poop in bottles!?” He exclaimed after chewing a meatball. Y/N nodded as she laughed, leaning against his shoulder.

After a moment more of laughter, the two quieted down and looked at each other. She cleared her throat and looked away from him. “Okay, tonight we’re gonna start with the letters that correspond with the keys.” She spoke. “It’s called a staff.”

Spencer nodded along, sitting up on the couch after turning the TV off. She scooted up and sat in the edge of the couch, looking back at Spencer.

“Wow, this has 88 keys.” She whispered with a smile. “Come here.”

Spencer immediately scooted up next to her and gazed at her as she let out a quiet breath. “Okay, start down here.” She smiled, reaching across Spencer to tap the very first key. “This key is A.”

The man held his breath as her arm brushed his chest. She pressed down on the key and began to move her fingers down. “Then, you just keep going down the keys until you stop at G. Then you start over.” She moved her arm back to her side slowly, almost teasingly.

“Uh… w- uh what are the black k-keys?” He asked, already getting flustered at their closeness.

Y/N chuckled. “These are sharps and flats.” She said pushing the black key closest to her. “Basically, it’s the sharp of whatever note to the left of it and a flat to whatever note to the right.”

“S-so if I play…” He pressed his finger down on the A key. “This one,” He pressed the black key to the right of it. “Is A sharp?”

Y/N’s eyes lit up. “Exactly!” She nodded, placing her hand on his bicep. “Now find… G, play that and then play G sharp.” She instructed.

He hesitantly did as he was told and Y/N hummed. “Perfect.” She smiled.

An hour later, Y/N yawned as she watched Spencer play notes painfully slowly. He noticed this and turned to her. “I’m sorry, are you tired?” He asked.

“Just a little bit it’s okay, I can stay.” She shook her head, her tired eyes betraying her.

Spencer shook his head as well. “No, it’s okay. And you’re working tomorrow.” He smiled. “Go home and get some rest.”

Y/N opened her mouth to object but Spencer raised his eyebrows. “Fine. But I’ll be back over tomorrow night and we’re gonna get down and dirty with this keyboard, okay?”

His heart skipped a beat when she smirked at him. “O-okay.” He nodded.

Y/N got up from the couch and made her way over to the door, Spencer following close behind. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Beethoven.” She winked.

Spencer gulped again, opening the door for her. “See you tomorrow, Y/N/N.”

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Y/N bit her lip as she walked up the stairs to Spencer’s building. Her hands were sweaty so she kept running them along her gray tank top.

She wore tight black skinny jeans because she had caught Spencer eyeing her body in them the night before. She also wore a pair of black boots that laced up in the front.

When she met Spencer, a crush was born immediately. He walked her across the street to her job when they ran into each other (literally) at the coffee shop.

Now, he was one of her closest friends. But she just goes that they’d turn out to be more.

She approached his door and exhaled deeply as she stopped in front of it. She smiled and knocked on the door quickly.

She heard shuffling inside and a thud followed by a string of what was supposed to be quiet curse words.

“Shit! Fuck, ow! Mother fucking dick sucker!”

Y/N grimaced as she heard a loud sigh and heavy footsteps traveling towards the door.

It swung open and there stood Spence with sopping wet hair. “Y/N/N, hi.” He smiled, panting a bit.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Hey, Spence… what’s… uh what’s going on here?” Her eyes glanced at his dripping hair.

“Sorry, I just got out of the shower. I thought you would be here a little later. But come in!”

Y/N smiled as he stepped aside and she walked into his apartment. It was set up in the exact way it had been last night and she gasped. “Food!” She spun around after spotting a bag from The Cheesecake Factory.

Spencer chuckled. “And cheesecake.”

Y/N laughed. “Oh, I think I love you.” I do love you.

The man smiled and walked forward. She caught his eyes betraying him as they did a quick once over of her body and outfit. She inwardly celebrated and sat down on his couch.

She looked down at the keyboard and pressed a few keys before playing a simple song. It was the Barney theme song. When she was down, she looked up at Spencer. “That’s what you’ll be learning today.”

He chuckled. “We’re getting down and dirty with Barney?”

Y/N laughed out loud and sighed. “Yes, exactly. Now let’s sit and eat and watch another crazy reality show.” She patted the spot next to her and Spencer grabbed the bag of food and brought it over as she grabbed his remote control.

They ended up watching Love Is Blind for an hour and it had Y/N in a rather romantic mood. “She sighed as the second episode ended and looked over at Spencer who had been oddly quiet.

“Spence, are you okay?” She asked, sitting up. He looked down at her, a smile growing on his lips.

“Toni and Andrea are gonna end up getting married. They’re in love with each other.” He told her.

Y/N raised her eyebrows. “Do you think he’ll love her even with the big wart on her forehead?” She asked.

Spencer chuckled. “He’ll love her, wart and all.”

Y/N smiled and giggled. “Thank you for dinner.” She nodded. “I shall now pay you back in musical favors.”

The man nodded and they got situated on the couch when they were sitting, thighs touching— god her thighs.

Spencer thought. He just wanted to spread them open and bury his hea-

“Spencer?” Y/N’s voice pulled him out of his particularly dirty thoughts and he cleared his throat. “Now that you’re back on earth, do you remember l- who am I kidding, you remember everything.” She rolled her eyes with a playful smile.

“Yeah-“

“Don’t you dare start bragging Spencer Reid.” She laughed, placing her hands over some of the keys on the keyboard.

Spencer laughed along with her and he watched her hands. “How are you gonna teach me this song?”

Y/N smiled. “I’m gonna play a couple notes, you copy me.”

She bit her lip when he nodded and began playing.

G, G, D, D, E, E, D

Spencer stared at her lips as they parted. When she looked at him, he quickly looked back down at the black and white keys. He shakily played the same pattern that Y/N had.

After he was done, he looked at her smile. “Good.” She said.

Something in the air shifted around them. Spencer’s hear word up. Y/N felt her breath hitch. “So… then you… um you play…”

She played the next 7 notes and looked up at Spencer. “So… you that’s C, C-“

She stopped when she went to play the note again at the same time Spencer did. He stared at her, she stared at him.

His eyes glanced down at her lips and they transformed into magnets. Their lips touched softly for a few seconds until Spencer pulled away. There was a blush on her cheeks and her eyes followed him as she looked away from her.

“I’m sorry. I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” He shook his head. “I just… I really like you but I know you don’t like me like that—“

“Spencer—“

“And I don’t want you to think I’m trying to take advantage of you a-and our time because I-“

“Spence, wait a sec-“

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. I understand if you want to leave.” He shook his head and finally forced himself to look at her. “Why are you smiling?”

Y/N’s grin widened. “Because you’re the smartest man in the world and a behavioral analyst yet you couldn’t tell that I’ve like you since we met.”

Spencer’s eyebrows raised a little. “Wha- you have?”

Y/N hummed and nodded. “Of course I like you. Have you met you?” She giggled.

Spencer smiled. “I… I just thought that I was imagining things-“

“Spencer,” Y/N spoke. He stopped talking. “Can you kiss me again?”

The man let his tongue dart over his lips and he leaned forward again, this time with some passion. His lips tangled with hers and his hands found the sides of her face. She gripped his shoulders and sighed into the kiss.

Spencer’s tongue darted out, pushing at her lips. She opened her mouth a little wider and let his tongue slide into her mouth.

She hummed one of his hands slid from her face to the Sid rod her neck and kept going down, stopping at the curve of her waist.

She was the first one to pull away. “Spence…” She bit her lip as she stared at him damn near panting.

He pulled her back in before sliding both hands down to pull her onto his lap. Her knees separated and now she was straddling him.

Her lips met the corner of his mouth before they trailed down to his jaw. “Do you know *kiss* how *kiss* long I’ve been waiting to *kiss* kiss you like this?” She asked.

Spencer squeezed her hips before they went even lower, resting under her thighs. “Trust me, it’s been the same.” He groaned. “Torture.” He whispered before grabbing her jaw gently and pushing his lips on hers.

Y/N was surprised. She didn’t think Spencer would take that kind of… power. She moaned into his mouth when the hand gripping her jaw fell between them and onto her thigh and he started to rub it softly.

Her hips subconsciously moved as the kisses deepened and sped up. Spencer grouped her hips again, helping them move across his lap.

She felt him grow hard and opened her eyes, pulling away. She lazily smiled at him as he continued to move her against him. “I can feel your friend down there.”

She thought this comment would make him blush and stutter but what he said next shocked her and gave her butterflies.

“And I can feel how wet you are even through these little jeans.”

Y/N blushed and he smiled. “Well, you are hot as fuck so it’s kinda hard to stay dry when your lips are on me.”

Spencer chuckled and her hands glided over his chest and then his shoulders. She bit her lip and stared at his beautiful, sexy face.

His fingers unbuttoned her jeans as he stared at her. “Is this okay?” He asked softly.

Y/N bit her lip so hard that she almost made herself bleed. “It so okay.” She nodded.

Spencer smiled and pulled down the zipper. “I love you in these jeans.” He told her. She lifted up so he could pull them down.

Y/N nodded and laughed breathlessly as she shimmied out of her pants. “Yeah, I know.” She shrugged. Spencer looked confused but leaned in to kiss her neck. “You might be the behavioral analyst but I so caught you staring at my ass last night.”

Spencer chuckled into her neck and he played with the lace hem of her underwear. He sucked on a spot repeatedly when he noticed how her body reacted.

Y/N moaned and let her hands fall into his curls as her hips resumed movement. “Spence…”

He hummed and licked the spot on her neck.

“Can I… can I do something for you?” She asked, a blush taking over her cheeks.

Spencer pulled his face out of the crook of her neck and looked at her. “What baby?”

Y/N swallowed and bit her lip. “Y’know…” She got off of Spencer’s lap in a swift motion. He grabbed her hips confused but he almost lost his composure when she got of her knees. “Can I?”

Spencer nodded. “Shit, Y/N.” He whispered when she smiled and reached for his belt. He swallowed as she undid it skillfully and placed her hands on his thighs.

Spencer lifted his hips and quickly pulled his pants off leaving him in his boxers. His hard dick pressed against the fabric.

Y/N maintained eye contact with him as she leaned forward and trailed her finger along the waistband of his boxers.

“Shit, Y/N. Don’t be a fuckin’ tease.” He groaned. Y/N gave him a look and quickly pulled his boxers down, audibly gasping.

“Holy fucking shit, Spencer.” She glanced up at his face.

Spencer was going to say something but his brain fogged the second he felt her hand wrap around the base of his cock and her lips on the tip.

“Fu- Y/N.” He squeezed his eyes shut before opening them to see her lower her head down more, taking more of him into her mouth.

All while her eyes were still on his. Her nails dug into his thighs and he placed his hand on her head. “Fuck, such a good job.” He breathed out.

Y/N moaned around him and shut her eyes as he gripped her hair gently and helped her head go up and down.

She continued to suck for another minute before Spencer pulled her head up softly. She looked up at him with confusion in her eyes. “Was that not good? I’m s-“

“No, baby.” Spencer shook his head, moving his hand to her chin and using his thumb to wipe her lips. “I was gonna come but I need you to finish first.”

Y/N blushed and licked her lips. “Me first?” He stood up, looking down at her.

“You first.” He nodded, pulling her off of her knees. “Always.” He kissed her heatedly, gripping her hair again.

She bit her lip as he grabbed her hips pulling her into him. “Do you have a condom?” Y/N asked, pulling away.

Spencer nodded, not being able to resist kissing her again. “Jump.” He whispered between kisses.

Y/N did as he told her and wrapped her legs around his waist. He held her up with his arms underneath her ass.

He carried her into his bedroom, lips never leaving each other’s. She whined softly when he put her down on his bed and walking away from her. She watched him walked over to his bedside table and opened it, searching around for a moment.

He pulled out a shiny golden packet and stuck it between his teeth. He crawled onto the bed where Y/N was watching him with a smile.

When he hovered over her, she snatched the condom from his teeth and pulled him down into a kiss, unbuttoning his shirt quickly. He let her pull the shirt off of him and thought it was unfair that she was still in her tiny little tank top.

He hummed and reached for her tank top, pulling it up and off as he was pulling away from her lips. Spencer groaned at the sight of her chest and shut his eyes. “You’re so sexy, baby.” He told her.

She bit her lip and tried to hide a smile. He kissed her again before paying attention to her panties. He pressed his fingers against the fabric making Y/N’s breath hitch. “Gotta take these off.” Spencer spoke.

She lifted her hips off of the bed and he pulled them off of her. “Jesus fu- oh my God, you’re so wet.” Spencer mumbled, damn near staring at her core.

He looked up at her. “Are you sure you want to do this? It’s okay if you don’t.” He nodded, his eyes softened.

Y/N smiled and pressed her hand against his cheek. “I’m sure. I want you more than anything.” He but his lip and took the condom back from her, opening it and sliding it on his length.

Spencer smiled and pressed his tip against her entrance, eliciting a gasp from her lips. He pressed his lips against hers as he pushed in slowly. She moaned into his mouth and squeezed his biceps.

This moment felt different. It felt softer, more passionate. Less like lust and more like love.

Spencer groaned into the kiss and pulled away slowly, staring at her closed eyes hoping they would open soon so he could look at her.

“Open your eyes, baby.” He told her quietly. “Let me see those pretty eyes.”

Y/N opened her eyes and met his as he chest heaved. He began to move slowly, sinking all the way into her before pulling out but not all the way.

He loved the way her mouth dropped open and her eyebrows creased. Sweet, sweet sound came from her.

“Fuck— Spencer!” She said closing her eyes again.

He grabbed her jaw. “Uh uh. Eyes open, pretty girl.”

Y/N opened her eyes right back up and bit her lip. “Faster. Please.” She mumbled.

Spencer snapped his hips a little faster. He let a hand come down between them and start rubbing her clit.

“Fuckin- tryin’ to kill me?” She asked breathlessly, through a smile.

Spencer chuckled and rubbed faster. “This feel good, baby?” He asked. She started nodding almost immediately letting out an incoherent word.

“Fuck, Spence— M’close.” She spoke, feeling the tightening in her lower stomach.

“Fuck baby— feel so good. So tight.” He spoke as she uncontrollably clench around him. “Y/N/N, I’m so close baby.”

Y/N let out breathy moans and dug her nails into his back. “I’m gonna come.”

“Come for me, baby.” He whispered in her ear.

Y/N squeezed around him again before she released. She looked up at him as he kept thrusting into her. “You make me feel so good, baby—“ Spencer nodded as he filled the condom.

Y/N panted and smiled up at him as he squeezed his eyes shut, hips stuttering.

After a moment of silence, Spencer looked down at her with his chest heaving. He pulled out of her slowly and tapped her hip. “Come on.”

Y/N giggled. “Spencer, I don’t think I can fuckin’ stand.”

He smiled at her and pulled her up. He dragged her towards his bathroom and let go of her body when he went to turn on the shower.

Once he was done checking the temperature, he pulled her back to him and stepped inside the shower.

They showered, not speaking but just staying in each other’s presence. Y/N thought it was awkward at first but she settled in when Spencer helped her wash her body.

Hours later, Spencer had given Y/N a tshirt, a pair of his boxers and socks to put on since her clothes were dirty now.

She sat up in his bed, watching him read. Yes, they had talked to each other about the events of the hours before but it was weird.

After a moment, she heard Spencer sigh and he put his book down on his bedside table.

He turned to Y/N and held out his hand, scooting down to lay on his side. She smiled and grabbed his hand, using it to pull herself down to let next to him, cuddling into his side.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He spoke suddenly.

She furrowed her eyebrows and looked up at him. “F-for what?” She asked.

“I… I didn’t want you to feel… I don’t know, rushed?” He sighed. His voice was quiet.

Y/N shook her head. “No, no I didn’t feel rushed.” She told him. “Spencer, do you not understand that I really really like you?” She asked, smiling.

Spencer felt his heart speed up. Y/N had really really liked him. “I really like you, Y/N.” He nodded. “I want to take you out.”

“On a date?” She asked, her grin widening.

“On a date.” He nodded. “We can go out, we can eat, go see a movie and then I can kiss you. And then I can call you when you’re in bed later that night and tell you what a great time I had.”

Y/N giggled and his her face in his chest. “Okay. Take me out then, Spence. I would love that,”

The rest of that night was spent cuddling and talking and watching stupid reality shows until Y/N fell asleep.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.••.•.

Thank you so much to @f-me-reid for this amazing request!!! I really enjoyed writing this one!