#i made a sad tuna sandwich instead

[syndrossi]

ohmygods Syn, i almost forgot: my pizza during my reading time (tis alfredo sauce and bacon✨)

to my fellow readers: remember the next time you read Resonant, please read and eat pizza in honor of Syn🔥🖤

(yes there’s soda in the swiftie cup)

I have never had that particular pizza combination but it honestly looks and sounds incredible! Jon would 100% order that from the kitchen for Daemon on account of it having bacon on it.

[steviewashere]

The Bow on a Gift

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Internalized Fatphobia, Fatphobia, Disordered Eating, Negative Body Image, Body Dysmorphia Tags: Post-Canon, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Chubby Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has Self-Esteem Issues, Steve Harrington Has a Bad Mom, Sad Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Chubby Chaser Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Love Confessions, Getting Together, First Kiss

I'm a fat guy and this is partially based on experience. So you will be nice, or else. (There's nothing I'll do, but I am scowling, if you must know.)

Read on AO3

💕—————💕 Steve Harrington was a chubby little kid. You wouldn’t know that unless you asked directly, but it’s true. He’d been a little boy with dirty blonde hair, sun kissed cheeks, and a thick body sturdy enough to climb trees in his backyard. He didn’t parade this information around, though. Not with the voice in the back of his head that sounds suspiciously like his mom; telling him to drink another glass of water instead of getting just one more scoop of food, to check the nutrition label on his packet of cookies (and to stop eating them immediately if the first ingredient was sugar; which it was, it always was), and to stay away from certain foods. Candies, chips, carbs—anything his mom disapproved of, labeled unnecessary and innutritious.

So, his relationship with food and body went from: This is good. To: It’s no longer good enough.

He had slimmed down over the years, no praise towards his eating habits. This was pure just working out through sports and gym class. His meals were portioned out to him by his parents, served to him as seen fit in school, or packed to be the best of the best. Always without the addition of some sort of snack food. Bad food, as it had been deemed in his house. Junk food, as it had been deemed by the public.

Other kids would offer up single Oreos from their sack lunches. He’d shake his head with a wry smile, say something about ‘watching his figure’ (like his mom would say), and go back to eating whatever meager meal was in front of him. A tuna salad sandwich some days. Water and a salad—leaves wilting and dressing a little left of good sour—on others.

He mourned those little moments of indulgence in his day. The couple little chocolate candies he could have before going to bed on Halloween night. A snack cake from the Byers family next door. His very own baggie of Doritos to go with his freshly made turkey sandwich, the champion’s meal after long days spent in the pool. And so his relationship with food and body went from: It’s no longer good enough. To: There’s nothing good about it.

Steve Harrington was a chubby kid. But he won’t talk about it, not really.

Though, he sort of has to now. Now that he’s thicker again, soft belly and chunky thighs and meaty arms. Now that the world ending fights are over and he’s relaxed and a little more sedentary than he was. Now that Eddie is giving Steve sad, cow-like, brown eyes whenever he mentions ‘watching his figure’ or being ‘not hungry’, or when he looks at a freshly taken Polaroid and asks a little too loudly under his breath ‘is that what I really look like?’.

——— Eddie’s sitting on the couch next to him. He’s shirtless, fresh from outside in the pool, eating away at a bag of Ruffles he brought with him. There’s an open can of Coke on the coffee table, gently popping and foggy from the fridge. The bag is shifted between them, open side towards Steve.

He eyes the chips inside. The dark orange coating—cheddar and sour cream flavored. Knows that if he takes even one, he won’t be able to stop himself. That he’d probably eat the whole bag. Because he’s done that before. After he’d not let himself indulge in snack foods, he’ll do that. Take in whatever junk food item he can find, hide away in his room, and eat it until he’s either sick or can’t stomach anymore. Usually the former happens before he knows it.

They look tantalizing though. And his tongue salivates at the mere thought of them. Imagining the salty goodness flat on his tongue. The savory notes of cheddar. What it would be like to give in could only be described as a dream.

“You wanna few?” Eddie asks around a mouthful. He absentmindedly scratches at his belly, Steve watching. Looking between them. At his own body, where he’s begun to develop a little pouch of a belly, folding over his older, tighter Hawkins High sweatpants. Then he peers at Eddie’s, lithe, thin, fit as a fiddle—even though Steve watched him devour an entire pizza outside, even though he had a few ice cream bars, even though he’d guzzled down some beers.

Steve knows as soon as he eats one of these chips, everything his mom said will come true. That it’ll go straight to his waistline. That he won’t be able to shed the pounds. That he’ll be a disgusting mess. Even though this body is comfortable, a little warm, entirely soothing. Even though he could see himself chubby again and know that he’d recognize himself. He looks like he did just before high school, before he really started to lose weight, when he was the happiest he’d ever been.

“Nah, I’m good,” he relays through a tight, fake smile. “Had quite a big lunch not too long ago, remember? I’m trying to watch my figure.” He pats his own center for good measure. Palm meeting soft cushion, like he’s patting a pillow. But he’s all too aware that’s his own middle he’s touching. Grimaces at the realization.

Eddie eyes him for a beat. Chewing stopped, food swallowed, not going back for more. He not so subtly wipes his crummy, greasy chip fingers on his swim shorts. And just keeps looking. “Why do you do that?” He asks bluntly.

Steve chuckles nervously. “Do what?”

“You make these awful comments about your body. Why do you do that?”

He scoffs. “Like you weren’t already thinking them, Eddie. I’m fat. And I shouldn’t be eating all this shitty food.” His hand rests on his middle, scrunching his fingers lightly, feeling that extra padding through his t-shirt. Feels like he should’ve grabbed a different shirt. Something looser. Something less outlining, skin-tight. It doesn’t actually fit against his skin like plastic wrap, but it tries to.

As Eddie continues to stare in stunned silence, Steve retreats in his mind.

Thinking over how a lot of his clothes have become tighter in the last several months. Thinks over everything he ate today—a slice of pepperoni pizza (‘Too much bread, Steven,’ his mom’s voice states), four glasses of water, a banana, the chocolate bar Robin threw at him (‘Think of the sugar, Steven! That’s awful for you,’ his mom rings out again), and a single beer (‘Beer? Really? That’s alcohol, Steven. God, you really are like your father’, and that particular comment stings. His dad is a bigger guy, has a bigger gut, wears larger clothes. It stings.) He kind of wants to cry. To hide. To run away.

So that’s what he does. He stands abruptly from the couch. Eyes on him, still, burning and observing. Seeing exactly who he is and how he’s shaped. And he darts up to his bedroom—trying not to focus on how parts of him jiggle or how parts of him slap against the other or how his sweatpants shift in a way that pinch him because they’re too small. He slams his door shut, locks it, and stuffs himself at his desk. And 'stuffs' feels right because his chair creaks, it squeezes him. He can feel it. Feel himself. Knows every little movement he makes and how it makes him look.

And his eyes drift over to the few pictures he has framed on his desk. Some of Robin and some of Dustin. One with Eddie and Mike. Then, one that particularly irritates him, is a photo Eddie sneakily took. Of Steve laying on one of the loungers outside, shirtless for once, belly spilling over the waistband of some swim shorts, hairy and soft. There’s a roll forming under his chest. And he squeezes the equivalent of that now, noticing that it seems bigger than the picture is making it out to be. Looks harder and notices his chest has grown to be a bit flabby, moobs. Eyes scrutinizing the way his ankles are bigger and his watch is tighter on his wrist and that he’s laying on his chair in such a way that there’s a more pronounced double chin. He squishes that, too. The heft of his fat between his fingers. And for a moment, he kind of wants to throw up.

His cheeks are warm under his fingertips. Squishy. Pinch-able. And his fingers are thick, thicker than he remembers them being. His feet feel wider when he flexes them under his desk. Every little bit of him is softer and more humiliating and just a little more disgusting.

This was a safe body at one point. The softness in it was comfort. And the warmth it carried was a balm. But it’s just this. A terrible reminder of how selfish he is, how over-indulgent he is, how much of a mistake he’ll always be.

He shouldn’t do it, but he looks back at the photo. At everything about him. The roll and the moobs and the soft underbelly. The thick neck and thicker legs and widening wrists. And then his eyes drift back to his center. Noticing, for the first time ever, that he’s got those red stretch mark lines forming on his hips and near his belly button.

Remembers, only some short years ago, when he was stout and chubby and still a pre-teen dorky kid—how his mom would make all sorts of ugly comments about those lines. When she’d see the silvery ones left after giving birth to him, the way her fingers would trace them and she’d scoff. Or how she’d see them on his dad’s hips, making some short comment about how fat his dad was getting. Remembers the look of hurt that would flash over his dad’s face—quick and subtle, but contorted and downward and sour nonetheless. And he knew, still knows, that sometimes his dad can be a total asshole—college and work and doing good in life all stark reminders of failure—but knowing that even the biggest, toughest, and smartest of guys can be knocked down with statements like that…It always made Steve feel just a bit sick. He knew he’d never be perfect in their eyes, but something about his physical attributes being all that matters to his mom, that hurts. He may never be the smartest of their family tree or the best, but at least his dad can find respect for him in other regards—knowledge about cars or sports or hugs given after rude comments from his mom.

There was no respect for Steve’s soft body, though.

And how was he supposed to respect his own when it was nothing to everybody else? When it was gross, unflattering, the topic of every conversation? When he was peered at like a bug, poked and prodded, scarred?

He gently rolls the t-shirt he’s wearing so that it sits just below his pecs. And looks down. Lifting up a love handle to really get a good look. There they are. Red, fresh, scarred reminders of just how awful his body is.

Nobody likes the fat kid. Not his mom. Not his middle school gym teachers. Not his old friends. How is he supposed to believe that this body of his is liked now? All he’s heard is negative. And negative it must be.

A knock on his bedroom door breaks him out of it. “Steve?” Eddie’s soft voice flutters in.

Steve sniffs, unbeknownst to him that he was crying. He hastily wipes at his cheeks. Choked, he calls out, “Please go away, Eds.”

Eddie sighs gently. Rests his head on the door, his hair rustling from how he shifts. “I’m sorry for bringing it up,” he sincerely apologizes. “I just…I don’t know. It makes me upset to hear you talk like that.”

“Yeah, well—“ His voice crackles, attempting to be stubborn, but sorely failing. “—It makes me upset that you have to see me like this. I’m…Eddie, I’m fucking ugly, don’t you get that?”

For a long moment, Eddie doesn’t speak. And in that time, Steve thinks he left. Left because he realizes that Steve’s right, that he is some ugly mess, incapable of being loved correctly. But then the gentlest voice Eddie’s ever carried comes through. “Baby, you’re not ugly.”

Steve’s chin wobbles, eyes stinging with unshed tears. “I am, Eddie. I am—“

“I look at you, Steve and see somebody I want to know infinitely,” Eddie admits quietly, bulldozing the claim Steve was making. “You’re someone that I seek out, a person I find comfort in. You are…” And he swallows heavily. The sound unmoored by Steve’s shaky breath. “…You are so damn beautiful to me. I—I know that’s hard to believe, probably with how you view yourself, but it’s true. I enjoy the fact that you’re relaxed enough now to indulge, to grow comfortable. I love the way peace wears itself on you, Steve. You’re beautiful, you’re everything, you’re…Steve, you’re somebody I love so deeply that I can’t fathom viewing you any other way.”

Slowly, Steve comes back to the door. He twists the doorknob, listening as Eddie shuffles back a couple half-steps. And opens it just enough to peer through. Eddie’s soft, sad eyes are on him again—not observing, just looking. There’s something warm in his gaze though, a warm blanket stretched between them that Steve wants to nestle in.

“Do you really mean that?” Steve asks a little breathless. It sounds whiny to his ears, maybe a little petulant. But Eddie doesn’t look affronted by it or mad. Just disheartened.

He nods gently. “Yeah, sweetheart. I really do mean that. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

“Even though I’m…Though I’m fat?”

“Yes,” Eddie answers immediately. And another part of Steve preens, loving that Eddie didn’t say something stupid like, ‘You’re not fat.’ Because so many people have said that. Too many people have said that. “Steve you could be in any kind of body and I’d still think you’re beautiful. And…uh, it’s kind of odd to admit it, but maybe I have a preference for chubby people?”

Steve snorts and opens the door a little wider. “Really?” He asks, a semblance of teasing back in his voice. “Is that really something that does it for you?”

“There are so many places on you that I can use as a pillow. Or that I could bite. You’ve got more space for kisses! Steve, think about how many kisses I could give you!” Eddie emphatically states. He grows a little meek-ish, though, when he continues. “And, honestly? I’ve been attracted to you since like…seventh grade. I’ve literally seen you in all shapes, all sizes. My attraction to you has not wavered, tell you that much. The chubby bit is like a giant bow on top of an already amazing gift. Y’know the kind of bows that are sticky on one side? The ones you sometimes stick to your forehead and then you keep afterwards because you liked how shiny it was and your mom says something like, ‘Why on earth are you keeping that?’ and then you say you like it because it’s pretty and then she rolls your eyes and lets you keep it, but then you’ve got like something really cool and awesome and memorable in your hands and you just kinda want to cradle it forever? That’s—“ Eddie takes a heaving breath, washing out Steve’s tiny fit of giggles. “—That’s…I want to hold you in my hands and keep you forever.”

Steve takes a step out in the hallway, grabs Eddie’s hand, and leads them back into his bedroom. He’s still laughing as Eddie squawks, blushing furiously, nervously chuckling back. He takes Eddie’s face between his softer hands, relishing in the way he reaches up and grabs onto Steve’s wrists. Thumbs running warmly over pulse points. “You’re such a dork!”

“And you’re such a beautiful person, Stevie.”

He leans in, resting his forehead on Eddie’s collarbone. Hands falling down to his biceps. Squeezing. “You’re such a dork,” he reiterates, voice soft and awed. “And it’s the nicest thing in the world. But I…” Steve looks back up, chin digging into Eddie’s chest, peering up reverently just as Eddie does the same downwards. A hand cups the back of his head, running over his hair. “I need you to know that sometimes I still feel bad.”

“Means I can remind you more just how much I love you.”

“And I have a bad time controlling my food habit bullshit.”

Eddie shrugs. “So I’ll be there to help you out, no biggie.”

“And I have stretch marks.”

Warm hands travel up and down Steve’s back. And…yeah, it feels nice the way Eddie’s palms glide over his softer parts. How they tenderly hold him. He doesn’t feel bad, not within these arms. “I’ve seen ‘em,” Eddie admits quietly. “You wanna know what they mean to me, though?”

“Hm?”

“It means that you’re comfortable enough to relax. To let yourself…be at peace. And the best thing about ‘em is that they’ll turn silver with time. Shows to the world your survival, sweetheart,” Eddie explains. Voice gentle, seeking. Loving. “Means that at some point in our lives, whatever stretch marks you have will fade just like the other scars we share. They’ll just become another memory of yesterday. And that I can admire them when we’re a little more wrinkled, wrapped around each other in bed, sharing kisses like secrets. Means that we won and I got to keep you as my prize.”

Steve shifts his hands from Eddie’s biceps to his face again. Holding him just as soft as Eddie is. Just enough to squish his cheeks, just enough to feel him, but not smother him. And he pulls him in. Rubs his nose against the tip of Eddie’s. With all the adoration he’s ever felt for Eddie—enough to make him want to burst with it, enough to warm him, enough to paint him golden—he kisses him. No tongue, just a press of lips. Chapped skin and tiniest bit of crumbs that Eddie, somehow, did not wipe away completely. He kisses just to transfer. A love so all encompassing, it needs nothing more than this, nothing more than softness and warmth and the two of them in a small space. His love for Eddie, kept away and flourishing like greenhouse flowers. And just like those plants, he can share this love, keep it comfortable and year-round.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs against Eddie’s lips. Pulls back slightly to gauge all of Eddie’s face. Adoration gleaming in his chocolate eyes. “I wish I had better words to give you.”

“When I have you in my arms? There’s nothing else that’s better, Steve. I could have you just like this forever, deaf and blind and mute, and I would view it as heaven.”

Steve sniffs, again, unknowingly crying. But Eddie thumbs away his tears as if it’s nothing. And maybe it is. Maybe he doesn’t have to worry so much with somebody like Eddie. “You’re a sap,” he gently teases. But then his face gets serious again, tone shifting once more. “You wouldn’t mind that I kept my body like this, though? This genuinely wouldn’t bother you?”

“Chubby chaser,” Eddie states, pointing at himself. “If it was bothersome, ever, to me, you’d have to kill me. Because that definitely wouldn’t be me, babe.”

He smiles, teeth and all. “Good because I…I do like this body a lot, even though it seems like I don’t. It’s just shit I’m working through, y’know? But I like being able to just let go. Be at peace, so you said.”

Eddie hums. Presses his hands into Steve’s back. Kisses him softly, just to kiss and nothing more. “Then just be. Do it for you,” he whispers.

“Okay, Eds. I’ll try.” At that, his stomach grumbles. He chuckles, moment ruined. “We should go get something to eat,” he suggests.

“Yeah? I heard there’s this bag of Ruffles downstairs that your…boyfriend?” Steve nods, answering wordlessly. “That your boyfriend tried to offer up earlier. Maybe we should eat that.”

Steve nods. “We should see how many we can stack on our foreheads. My record is ten.”

“And you say I’m a dork.”

“You are a dork.”

Eddie smiles, lets Steve guide them back downstairs. Murmurs, “And you’re beautiful.”

💕—————💕

[bitbybitwrites]

If I Can Make Your Heart My Home - Recipe and Song list - Chp 1, 2 and 3

My lovely partner for the Klaine Prompt Reverse Bang 2003, @datshitrandom had asked me recently about recipes I've included in If I Can Make Your Heart My Home.

Which also got me thinking about the music I've been listening to and including in the story. . . with a chef and a musician in the mix there's going to be a lot of both.

So under the gorgeous artwork by @datshitrandom, I'll list what I mentioned in the story/ inspired me so far!

There are spoilers below- so if you want to read the story from the beginning first, click here!

**As a note before I do anything, I've started a YouTube playlist for the music in this fic. To access it, click here.

I'll add songs to it as the story goes on and are mentioned. But I'll list individual songs/recipies in the chapters below as well.

***

Well, we should start off with the song that inspired the original prompt for the story.

Chapter 1

Music: Elizabeth Hummel sings Twinkle Twinkle Litle Bat to the traditional tune of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

Recipies:

Grandma Hummel's butter pound cake - mentioned it's on the tea table. This is from one of my favorite cookbooks - I haven't tried making it yet, but it's on my list!)

Chocolate Chip cookies - That Kurt gives to his dad, proudly bc he helped bake them. This is one of my go-to recipes. I tend to throw a handful or more of Walnuts and sometimes swap the semi sweet chocolate chips for dark chocolate chips or chunks.

Pink Lemonade - that Elizabeth was going to pour for Kurt, but he insisted instead on drinking tea like the grownups.

Petit Fours - on the tea table. I've failed miserably at making fully iced petit fours. This is the next recipe I plan to try - it seems easier. And it so looks like something Elizabeth would have made.

Cucumber Sandwiches - Kurt is eating them during the tea party. I've made both of the following recipes for tea before.

"Eat Me" cookies - Alice In Wonderland reference. - from the end of the tea party. This is a great YouTube channel that takes food mentioned in literature and shares recipies for them. I envisioned the cookies Elizabeth had were the pretty ones covered in royal icing.

Bonus recipes!

Not mentioned specifically in the story, but I believe would have been included during Elizabeth's table of treats.

Other Finger sandwiches - I tend to make a number of different sandwiches when I have folks over for afternoon tea. No one ever goes home hungry! Here are a couple of our favorites that I think Elizabeth would have had at her tea table.

Tuna Fish ( I omit the celery and red onion)

Cream Scones - I tend to love have them with Clotted cream and strawberry jam

***

Chapter 2

Music:

Not mentioned in the story itself, but we learn Cooper is not only a violin virtuoso but also Concertmaster for the Los Angeles Philharmonic. I can imagine this as one of the pieces he plays.

I also can picture Cooper and Blaine as young kids and being asked by their father to perform this together - with Blaine on the piano.

***

Chapter 3

Recipes:

Grandma Hummel's Butter Pound cake

(see chp 1 recipes above)

Snickerdoodles - that Maggie and her daughter bring to Kurt the first day he moves in.

Music:

The song young Blaine wanted to impress Alice with - tried to talk his nanny into bringing the piano from home to the park

The song Blaine plays as he watches the sad stranger walk away

[studylifex]

September 15, 2023

Bare with me please ;(

Since my last entry, I have been surviving the biggest storms. Literally and figuratively. The area I live in had huge flash floods - so many beautiful homes and family in distraught. It was so sad. It took me forever to get home. I couldn’t make it to the other side. Every possible street I thought would’ve been cleared simply was flooded along the way so I constantly had to make u-turn after u-turns. Since making it home wasn’t the case I went out for a dinner instead. They restaurant was far up the road where I was at so I said “hey why not” I did call in advance just to make sure the place was not flooded because it just so happens to be located right on the lake (it’s beautiful during sunset). Luckily me, they said it was all clear on that end. I ate a margherrita chicken with a risotto and broccolini. The drink was a chocolate churro martini (sooo good). By the time I was finished with dinner it was all good to go home. It all turns out well since I had nowhere else to be.

That’s just one occasion -

I have experienced car problems recently. I just bought the car from the dealer not less than two months… my car broke down right before an intersection - the car took me like an hour to start back up - then my engine light turns on… the dealer is now taking care of it. I keep telling myself it’s nothing major! So fingers crossed. Seriously because I’m not holding on to dear life. These twenty somethings can take a toll on you.

I have been cooking more at home.

So far I have made:

Candied yams, bake Mac and cheese, fried chicken.

Cilantro lime noodles with crispy chicken

Tacos

Tuna sandwiches

Banana and peanut butter smoothies for breakfast

Wellness juice shots (juicing) I’m on week two!

Lots of internal and external events have taken place but my deep longing for career advancement has been on my mind heavily. All I can think of how it is up to me to push myself to break my own barriers. Do what you love - don’t doubt yourself - don’t set yourself back another a day, week, month, and/or YEAR!

I want and need a sustainable life and I’m here open to the opportunities I can bring value to.

Oh by the way I received my second certificate with Google! - I probably mentioned this already.

I’m starting course three today! Not at Starbucks since I have no car and I just feel like studying in bed couldn’t be so bad. It’s Friday and it’s going to be 11AM so 1 hour tops because I will be cooking soon after:

Loaded Baked Potato’s, Steak and Asparagus.

I haven’t been in the proper space to participate in my studies due to all the chaos. I don’t ever want to take so much time off from my books - I start to feel unorganized/ forgetting material and I just don’t like it. A little bit of effort can help daily.

(Sorry I needed to dump my thoughts badly and update my study blog) overall I still feel like good things are happening.

Last song: Neybors - Heno, ft Elujay, J. Robb

[tojisveryown]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦

© 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢𝐬𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫

Ｓｙｎｏｐｓｉｓ: 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘑𝘑𝘒 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨

Ｗａｒｎｉｎｇｓ: 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦

Ｎｏｔｅ: 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘧 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘪𝘬𝘵𝘰𝘬 𝘭𝘰𝘭

𝘧𝘵. 𝘐𝘵𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘪 𝘠𝘶𝘶𝘫𝘪, 𝘍𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘰 𝘔𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘮𝘪, 𝘎𝘰𝘫𝘰 𝘚𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘶, 𝘕𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘪 𝘒𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰, 𝘐𝘯𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪 𝘛𝘰𝘨𝘦, 𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘰

𝐈𝐭𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢 𝐘𝐮𝐮𝐣𝐢

𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤- You saw this idea on tiktok and decided that you wanted to participate in it as well. You and your boyfriend Yuuji were always pulling pranks on each other and you thought pulling this one would get a good reaction out of him. You waited in his room for him to come back from his training with Gojo and once he came in he gave you a hug and laid himself in between your legs “Hey how was training?” you asked playing with his hair “Tiring, but thanks for waiting for me to get back.” you resisted the urge to laugh as these next words spilled out of your mouth. “Chris please go take a shower your sweat and grease just got all over my hands.” “Okay fine I’ll go take a sh- did you just call me chris?” he got up from your lap and turned to you making sure he heard you right. “No I didn’t now hurry up and take a shower, you smell.” he grabbed your wrists and pinned you down “Who’s Chris?” you stayed silent trying not to laugh, “Y/N? Tell me who Chris is or I’ll rub my sweaty armpit on you.” “NO I’M SORRY IT’S A PRANK!” nonetheless he still shoved your face into his armpit.

𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐌𝐞��𝐮𝐦𝐢

𝐇𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤- Nobara had told you about this prank where you’d pretend to hide someone in the closet while Megumi comes in as if you were cheating on him and you both gave each other a smirk and though it’d be fun to prank Megs. Nobara was standing guard over your room and once she saw the spiky black hair from afar she signaled you to get ready, as Megumi tried to open the door Nobara kept stopping him it wasn’t until he got supper suspicious that he pushed passed her and opened your door. The first thing Megumi saw was clothes discarded on the floor, both mens and womens (every body say thanks to Yuuji for allowing you to raid his closet), he looked up at you as you were hovering over your closet door with a blanket wrapped around you. Megumi looked at you with sad eyes and left your room, you heard the door next to yours slam and you and Nobara shared the same expression as you two faced each other. Nobara knocked on his door and Megumi opened after a new knocks “What?” you knew you fucked up big time especially since he sounded like he was in a bad mood “Hey I’m sorry-” “Why would you help her cheat? Aren’t we friends?” You wanted to run into his arms and tell him it was a prank but half of you was dying from laughter “Megumi, please just go into her room and see it for yourself.” he agreed. Megumi came into your room and opened the closet door to see the bastard you were cheating with, “SURPRISE SHAWTY!!” He looked at you and realized what he got himself into and plopped himself on your bed and started mumbling about how stupid you two were.

𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤- You were tired of all the girls that flirted with Gojo and you were tired of him for letting them flirt. You wanted to somehow get back at him and you came up with the idea to prank him making it look like you were cheating. With the help of Nobara and Yuuji you were able to make it look like you were cheating on Gojo. The three of you made it where your shared room with Gojo looked like someone else had been there. You waited for Gojos return and when you heard the door knob open you quickly wrapped the blanket around you and sat on a pillow to make it seem like you were on top of another guy, you let out a fake moan while you were bouncing up and down waiting for Gojo to react. Instead of Gojo getting angry and lashing out he pulled out his phone and started recording “Nice try babe, you don’t have the heart to cheat on me.” You let out a sigh and plopped yourself on the shared bed “Besides where would you find someone as sexy as me mhm?”

𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤- The idea struck upon you when you saw Gojo come into a meeting with a hickey on his neck, you wondered what would make Nanami snap from his stoic nature and atlas you came up with the idea to plaster a fake hickey on your neck and around the area where your chest was slightly exposed. You waited for Nanami to come out the shower and while you were doing so you were preparing some snacks that the two of you would share while watching the newest episode of your favorite show. Nanami came up behind you while you were putting a sandwich together and wrapped his arms around your waist, he pulled your hair to the side and have you a kiss on the neck, “I missed you, what did you do today?” “Oh nothing I hung out with Gojo for a while since we bumped into each other at the farmers market.” he went in for another kiss, this time his hot breath met your neck instead of his lips “Is that where you got the idea to give yourself a fake hickey?” Nanami was immune to pranks especially because he grew up with Gojo. Going along with the fact that he grew up with that man whore he was able to determine a real hickey from a fake one. “Nice try love.”

𝐈𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐞

𝐈𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤- You and Maki were sending each other tiktoks and you came across a prank where the guy was ignoring his girlfriend and you sent it to Maki with the following text “LMAO SHOULD I DO THIS TO INUMAKI?? YOU THINK HE’LL GET MAD?” she replied with “LMAOO DO IT, HE’LL GET SO MAD IT’LL BE SO FUNNY” The next morning you and Maki walked to the fields to start training and as everyone started to gather you greeted them with a good morning, all but Inumaki. He stood there next to panda after you had passed by saying “Good morning panda!” Inumaki stood there waiting for his greeting and a kiss on the cheek but he noticed you were already on the track running next to Maki and Nobara “Did you two fight?” “Kelp?” Inumaki shrugged his shoulders and waited for the girls to finish their laps. Once he saw you nearing the end of the lap he walked towards you with a water bottle in his hand “Hey thanks for the water Yuuji!” Inumaki stood there dumbfounded, he watched as you grabbed the water from Itadori’s hand and chugged it down. For the rest of the afternoon Inumaki watched in silence as you engaged with everyone. Training was about to end meaning it was time to hit the showers to scrub off the dirt and sweat but before you could pack your things Inumaki blocked you from getting your stuff “Tuna tuna!” It was useless, you ended up getting passed him and began to pack your stuff “Talk to me... please?” your body jolted and the words “I’m sorry it was a prank!” slipped through your lips. You turned around and you were met with a fuming Toge, he began to scream out onigiri ingredients and when he saw that you were taking it lightly he began tapping his foot on the concrete floor waiting for you to finish. Wiping the tears off your eyes from laughing so much you began to apologize “I’m sorry Toge that was just too fu-” “Run laps.” 

𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨

𝐈'𝐦 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤- You absolutely adored your boyfriend, and you loved how charismatic he was but you couldn’t help but love to tease him in the most outlandish ways as possible. That being said you began brainstorming a dialog for the breakup prank you wanted to pull, you almost felt bad when he came home to you with flowers in his hand. “Hey darling I missed you a little extra today so I got you these.” you gazed at him and he gave you a warm smile as he pulled you into a hug “I wanna break up.” he flinched at the sudden words and broke the hug, his hand was laying on your shoulder “What? Did I do something wrong?” You looked anywhere but his eyes “No.. it’s not that.” Choso cupped your face with his free hand “Then what’s the problem? We can fix it right?” his thumb rubbed against your cheek “I’m just not happy anymore.” “Oh.” Choso backed away at the sudden phrase that left your lips. “Okay, well um. If this is what you really want.” He gave you a smile and extended the flowers out to you “At least keep the flowers, they are for you afterall.” You reached out to grab the flowers and grabbed the luggage that played as a prop for your prank. You walked out the door leaving Choso alone. After closing the door you immediately opened it back up and saw Choso bundled up in the corner, head down in his knees and arms wrapped around his knees as he cried there quietly, the sound of the door opening made him jolt his head up and you were met with a tear stained Choso “Y/N please don’t leave me.” You ran towards him hugging him tightly as you wiped the tears off. “Shhhh it’s okay my love it was just a prank, I’m sorry it was a stupid one.” Choso smiled under your touch, unknown to you he knew it was a prank the entire time due to how light your luggage seemed, but for a brief moment he truly believed the person he loved most was unhappy with him.

© 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢𝐬𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫

[hoodiewithhorns]

Hmmm how about and argument scenario with Atsumu or Suna...or both 🥺

━  argument scenario with Atsumu and Suna ✧

ofc aw, also sorry if this is bad and out of character I still don't know much about these two (I'm wrapping up season 2) but I’ll do my best <3.

▲ cw : not proofread, established relationship, fem reader, crying , hurt + comfort, insecurities of abandonment , neglect, angst, slight jealousy, hint of smut at the end(for atsumu), all characters are 18+, MDNI. ▼

Atsumu 

- he had been in a bad mood from the start 

- he told you ahead of time he wasn’t feeling good so to surprise him, you went to go see him at one of his practices

- you brought him some fatty tuna and a few sports drinks to cheer up your lovely boyfriend

- arriving safe and sound with a bright smile eager to see your boyfriend

- only to find him talking to one of his fangirls, not one but 3 of them. laughing and smiling as they showered him in compliments and praise him for his athletic abilities he even let the girls touch him up for just a bit too long for your liking. 

〜 ☆

- you paused only to stare at the scene in front of you

- his brother disappointed in him, making signs that you were here waiting for him.

- he turned around to see you standing at the door frame of the gym a frozen expression plastered onto you as if you have just seen a ghost.

- those girls were pretty. prettier than you and the fact he let them touch up on him made your chest tighten. the gym was silent with only the sounds of volleyballs being thrown left and right. 

- you didn't say anything you just walked outside and waited for him to be done.

- he walked outside and drove you back home not even saying a single word.

he opened the door for you locking it once he entered as well. you still felt uneasy wanting an explanation as to why he would let those girls touch up on him like that. the way they touched his built physique left you a little hurt. you were sure if you brought it up to him it wouldn't be a problem right? just talk about it like a normal healthy couple does! right? of course!! you thought letting a few of the negative thoughts vanish from your mind.

you took a deep breath before you walked into the bedroom. Atsumu was sitting on your shared bed with his head against the headboard, scrolling through his phone watching videos to improve his spiking abilities. he seemed to be in a relaxed state, but he didn't spare a glance when you walked in. maybe he didn't hear you? you thought to yourself. the uneasy feeling overwhelming you feeling you'd breakdown at any second. 

“hey atsu.” you spoke lightly to him easing your way up to the bed. 

“what.” his tone clearly annoyed by you. you took a step back surprised by his tone and how he responded to you. he never replied with “what” it was always “yes?” or “yes my love?” taking another deep breath looking up to try and fight back your tears that were ready to stain your face at any minute now, “y-you okay baby?” you thought it’d be smarter to ask if he was still feeling okay and not bring up the fangirls..but you were dead wrong since it only set him off even more.

“I'm fine.” he grunted back at you still not looking up at you. he tightened the grip on his phone scrolling and staring at the videos more intensely now. “o-okay baby..um..” it wasn’t a good time to bring it up you already knew he was pissed off but you just wanted to get to the bottom of it immediately. if he was In a bad mood why would he talk to those girls all happy and giggly but with you a salty attitude? it didn't make sense you needed to know. “ why were those girls touching you like that.. were they your friends..?” that was the last straw for him he placed his phone down getting up to face you as you took a few steps back.

he was now hovering over you looking down at you full of anger, shivering at his mean gaze. “what's the issue? it’s just some fangirls who saw I was in a bad mood and wanted to cheer me up not like you who just walked away.” your hands were shaking at this point you felt sick to your stomach at how cruel he talked to you. how could you just stand there while girls were touching him and laughing clearly not caring he has a girlfriend?? what were you supposed to do walk towards him as if they weren’t there?

“but a-atsu I wanted to come cheer you up I made you some of your favorites-” 

“why do you care so much about some silly fangirls huh? don't we live together?? isn't that enough for you? but nooo you always have to think about yourself don't you?” he was being unreasonable at this point he knows how you get when fangirls are all over him. it was one of your insecurities that he’d reassure you didn't have to worry about since he’d never leave you, but here he was calling you selfish for caring about that.

finally, the gears in your head letting the tears promised to fall, fall down your cheeks. you sniffled rubbing your eyes as fast as you could to not let him see you but it was too late he already did. avoiding eye contact you spoke sniffling up your words.

“i just w-wanted to make you feel better why are you acting like this atsumu..”

you cried looking down as your tears hit the ground. his face switching from annoyance to concern, he messed up and he knows it. reaching out to hug you, you moved away from him and stormed out of the bedroom heading to the living room planting yourself on the couch as you hid underneath the covers to cry your little heart out. he followed you out the bedroom looking over at the meal and drinks you had planned for him. his favorite food and sports drink with a note written in your pretty handwriting he loved so much.

“I hope this makes you feel better baby! I love you so much!♡ xoxo”

- with much love y/n 

feeling his heart crack realizing the number he did on you just now. you had every right to be upset he knew you seeing him around other girls would’ve set you off he just wanted to appear as charming as possible. if his fangirls knew he was in a bad mood it would’ve caused his reputation to sink to the ground. still, he knows he shouldn’t have let them touch him like that especially if he had you at home. he let out a sigh walking up to the couch sitting right next to you with his head thrown back on the couch eyes never leaving you, watching and hearing you carefully. 

your sniffles did so much damage to him it already hurt him when he saw you cry, but crying because of something inconsiderate he did hurt him even more.

he pulled the covers down to reveal your redden tear-stained faced stilling sniffling but not fighting back when he pulled you into his chest. how could you fight back? you loved him you never want to consider leaving him as an option. you just wanted to fix things and so you let out a soft apology as he rubbed comforting circles on your back.

“no baby I'm sorry...I was being stupid and was in a bad mood but that doesn't give me the right to hurt you like this..” his voice soft yet firm making you ease up more into his chest as you sat in his lap to face him wrapping your arms around his neck.

he looked like a sad puppy he felt bad he really did which brought you to kiss him on the lips he smiled into the kiss feeling relieved. this lasted for what felt like forever. you pulled away and he rubbed the last bit of tears off your pretty eyes.

“I'm sorry baby I really am..I was like..an idiot sandwich you know?” you giggled at his joke making him smile as if he just won back his girlfriend. “it's okay atsu I love you.. please don't forget that okay?” he nodded pulling you in once more for a much more deeper and passionate kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist while his hands roamed your body. letting out a soft moan into the kiss, his hands went under your shirt as he pulled away smirking.

“why don't you let me make it up to you pretty girl let me show you that those silly fangirls don’t mean anything to me yeah?”

Suna 

- he was always busy with volleyball

- which meant coming home really late.

- you supported him nonetheless adoring how talented he looked going against teams

- you just felt..empty without him

- he wasn’t just your lover but... your best friend 

- you missed his touch and his presence in general

- he kept coming home late from practice each week making you miss him more and more

- some nights he wouldn't even come home and would stay at a teammate's apartment at the very last minute instead of coming home to cuddle you like how he always did.

 - this made your head spiral wondering if he even acknowledges how much you miss him. 

- you understand his practice and games end really late but still, you were his girlfriend a little reassurance through a phone call or a facetime would be enough for you to sleep alright for a night.

- his texts also caused you to feel more alone back then he would spam you with stupid stuff the twins were doing back in high school and even a little bit now with stuff his teammates were doing with the occasional “i love yous” and the simple but sweet heart emojis he’d send. now it wasn't even like that. 

you glanced at your phone and it was 11:34 PM and still no text from him or sign of his arrival. did he even care at this point? you wondered tossing and turning in your shared bed scrolling through Instagram. your eyes lit up when he messaged you. hoping maybe it would be an i love you or an apology for being so neglectful towards you. 

“hey. i’ll be coming home at 12.”

“okay tarō be safe. I love you♡”

read at 11:40 PM

you sighed feeling a little happy he at least was coming home soon. still, an I love you back would’ve been nice. you waited for him for a few more minutes trying your hardest not to fall asleep. it's been so long since you two been together or specifically seen each other. part of you was excited to see your boyfriend after weeks of not seeing him but part of you was upset. so many weeks of you being alone sleeping alone without his chest to cling on or his shoulder to lay on when you cried over your favorite shows.

you jolted up when you heard the door open finally, he was home, you happily walked to the front door. Suna took off his shoes before entering placing them at the front door. you greeted him kissing his cheek hugging him tightly, you missed this..you missed him.

“hey y/n. I'm tired do you mind?”

you pulled away looking up at his dissatisfied expression. first, he calls you by your actual name and then tells you to back off after god knows how long you’ve seen him. he walked past you heading straight to the bathroom to wash up. you stood there appalled at the fact he barely acknowledged you only to tell you back off. you couldn’t believe it but you tried to shrug it off, maybe he was in a bad mood? he’ll still cuddle you to sleep so you have that to look forward too!...you hoped.

when you walked back to the bedroom he was already going underneath the covers and you followed, going under them with him, while his back was facing you. you waited a while to see if he’d ask you if you wanted to cuddle. waiting... and still not a word not even a goodnight when he finally turned the lights off.

you missed him so much all you wanted was him to acknowledge you just a little. you moved closer to his back and hugged him from behind. 

“god, y/n why are you so needy all of a sudden?” rolling his eyes at you in annoyance. you moved your hands back to you sitting up to face him.

“why I’m so needy?? jeez tarō I don't know maybe I haven't seen my boyfriend in god knows how many weeks!” you snapped back at him causing him to get out of the bed. 

“It was 5 weeks it wasn’t even that bad!” he yelled back at you, you felt your heart become heavy looking at his eyes that had not a trace of love in them while your very own eyes felt heavy holding back tears.

“you’ve been coming home late all the damn time suna! sometimes you don't even show up! I miss you so much sometimes I....” you froze the tears finally starting to fall. “I don't even think you love me anymore..” 

he froze his eyes widening at your final words. how could he be so blind? his sweet girl had every right to be needy for him 5 weeks must've felt like an entirety to you and now that he finally gets home he's acting like an assshole to you pushing you away as if you were nothing but an obstacle. he sat back down on the bed to hug you. a genuine one full of love and regret. it was silent for a few minutes of just the two of you tight in each other's embrace. 

“I’m..sorry my love...I didn't mean to yell at you like that I miss you too I just..I'm sorry” he felt bad he didn't mean to hurt you. he knows he's at fault here and all he can do is mumble apologies while he pulls you close to him as he hides his face in the crook of your neck for comfort. you hugged back of course finally having him in your arms brought you joy. 

“it's okay tarō...I love you...we’ll be okay, okay?” he nodded planting soft kisses on your forehead. “I love you too baby..but let's go to bed my love it's getting late..” smiling he pulled you into his chest to cuddle you to sleep wiping the remaining tears you had still left in you. after a while you fell asleep in his chest while he watched you sleep peacefully.

“heh.. you’re such a crybaby .” he smiled pulling you in closer planting soft kisses on you trying not to wake you.

“I love you y/n I promise to make it all up to you.” 

[stuckybarton]

Manifestation of Happy Endings

SUMMARY: "Everyone deserves a happy ending, even you." CHARACTERS: Stephen Strange x Reader WARNINGS: Slight Angst. WORDS: 1,467 A/N; So I was able to post something using my husband's pc and it might take a while for me to post either Unintentional Father and Happy Family since my laptop is once again getting fixed. Just thought I could stave away with a quick part 1 to this mini series with Daddy--I mean, Dr. Strange. Lol.

MASTERLIST || Join the Taglist

~

Part 1 SUNSHINE

The breakup was the last thing you had wanted to happen, yet here you were, in your car was everything you owned. With everything you had worked your life for reduced to a few boxes and a handful of resentment for the life you had chosen for yourself.

Everyone had been right about one Tony Stark. Never love a man that had an ambition that would constantly make him chose it instead of you. It had not be a rare instance, it was the constant occurrence in your relationship that you doubt if it was Tony you were dating or was it Happy that had been the one to constantly fetch you from the restaurant when Tony needed to cancel in the last minute.

Happy Hogan had been the witness of your resolve slowly crumbling when it comes to Tony. The love you had for Tony slowly fading away from your eyes and the resentment for staying with him was slowly creeping to replace it. Everyone was right about the man, right about the man that was too self-centred to care for another person--to care about someone like you that had constantly chose him over every single opportunity handed to you by your career.

You loved Tony, no one could ever question such a fact.

But it was in your love for the man that many had began to pity you. To pity what you were willing to allow him to do to you, to see you become, to destroy and shape into the empty shell of yourself. It was a tragedy to waste your life away for a man like him but you realize there was no use withering away in despair when you could move on and start fresh; without Tony Stark and without the team you had treated as your own family to stop you.

"He's gonna start looking for you." Turning to the owner of the voice, you could only smile at Happy, both of you knew that wasn't the case. Tony never looks for her. The times that you had thought about leaving, about starting your new life, you would find yourself coming back and the man not even realizing you were gone. This time wouldn't be any different.

Even with the passionate talk the two of you had, he simply. did. not. care.

Maybe it would be alright to be that way. No more heartaches, no more questions, no more chances you were more than likely to give to the man if he was given the chance.

"I'm gonna miss you, Happy." You whispered, hugging the man that had slowly become a father to you since arriving into the life of one Tony Stark. "Take care of yourself for me, Happy." You smiled lingering on the hug until he had hugged you back, patting you gently on the back before slowly pulling away. The sad smile and the creeping realization of how things had turned out in your life and what it would mean now.

"I'm gonna miss you, Kid." Happy whispered opening the door to your car for you. "Don't be a stranger."

You smiled at him and nodded as you slipped into the car and make driving yourself out of the compound and out of the life of Tony Stark. From the rear-view mirror, you had watched the compound grow smaller and smaller and finally, all the weight on your shoulder had magically lifted away and the tears you had thought were gone had shed their last.

177B Bleecker Street was your new home. It didn't take long for you to integrate into your new life, your new place, and your new perspective.

It had been well over a week now since you had left the compound, with one last text to everyone in the compound about you being safe--away from Tony, everyone had realized you finally wanted nothing to do with Tony. You had refused to answer Tony's text, one single text you would have never thought you'd ever receive.

Where are you?

It was such an ironic question for him to ask, the countless of times you had sent him the same text, hoping he was alright and would only be met with nothing but FRIDAY's reassurance that Tony was either on a mission or locked away in his lab working on his suits. It was a refreshing moment to see him asking it now and you chose not to answer anymore. Your phone was destroyed without an ounce of hesitation and the realization of the chip Tony had installed to locate where you were should he so wish to make the effort. They were truly over, this was your time to make a new change in your life.

Returning full-time to your job as a writer, your editor and agent had both been shock with your announcement of writing a new book to publish the following year. Free of the worry that came with one Tony Stark, free from the self-loathing, you were finally going out again, even as small as getting coffee in a nearby café.

A smile was on your lips greeting the cashier as you got your coffee. Slow moments like this were what you never thought you'd crave, to be able to see the world, away from the confinements of the advancements inside the compound. It was good to see new faces and escape the emptiness of the place you once called your home.

Among the customers, your eyes caught two rather familiar individuals. Dr. Stephen Strange and his companion, Wong. You had read files upon files on both men and you had been intrigued by them the most among the line-up of extraordinary men tasked with saving the world.

"Coffee for Y/N." The server called out and taking your stand you made your way to the counter to get your coffee and lo an behold, missing your footing, you find yourself about to meet the floor face first.

But, it didn't happen. It never happened as you were floating, at least that was you believe was happening. Opening your eyes, you come to realize that someone--or something had caught you before you had even met the ground. Turning, you had met everyone's eyes including one of Dr. Stephen Strange and under you was a levitating red cloak--his doing it may seem.

"Are you alright?" The man had asked,

Finally being let down by the cloth, you were back onto your own two feet and the coffee waiting for you was taken by the man and given to you with a smile on his lips. Tried as you might, the warmth in your skin was evident and you tried your best to hide from his gaze. Not a way to make an introduction.

"Sort of." You assured taking your to-go cup of coffee with you. Finally meeting the man's gaze, you smiled, as much reassurance as you possibly could. "Not a good way to start my morning but thank you for the help."

Smiling at his companion, you made your way out of the coffee shop and hoping for the ground to finally swallow you up. Of all the thing you could see yourself making a good impression on, this was not one of those moment.

~

"She is cute, the Cloak of Levitation seems to like her too."

Of all the things Wong would say after such an encounter, this was by far the most hilarious among them all. But he was right, the woman was cute. There was this sunshine in your smile that just had him think about you longer than he should have.

Taking care of the balance of the Multiverse was the top of his priority, but one measly encounter with you had him in shambled and everyone around him can somehow see it--try as he might to deny it.

"It's not like I'd ever see her again." He pointed out pulling his jacket on before making his way to his usual Deli run. "And does Mr. She's Cute want Tuna again?"

"You know me so well."

Without missing a beat he halted as soon he had opened the door to the sanctum and there you were standing with a bright smile on your face and the sunshine almost casted up above you. It brought a smile on his own face. Just his luck.

"Dr. Stephen Strange? I wanted to properly thank you for saving me from embarrassment above everything else."

In your possession was three deli sandwich and what he assumed was to-go cups of coffee from the same café the Cloak had saved you from.

"I should also point out I'm the girl leaving in the other complex besides this one." You added with a sheepish smile on your face,

Just his luck, of all things.

[faunusrights]

yeah, all i got is this belly button lint: a happy huntresses short fic

wrote this real quick because i love thinking about the random crap fiona has in her Inventory(tm). also i just like thinking about these clowns in general, so,

=

"Okay, so, what's actually in your Semblance right now?" Joanna asks one day in third year, when Fiona and May have sneaked away to Robyn's dorm to lose at cards and help edit her new batch of flyers promoting union creation in the workplace. Fiona had given a couple a look and accepted them as good enough, but May is weirdly exacting about her standards and is currently trying to convince Robyn to nudge the text headers over by ten pixels to the right. That's why, as she's sat on the floor and wrapped up in the drama of watching Robyn try and slowly fail to ignore May's insistent pleas for her to boot up her editor, Fiona's caught just a little bit off-guard by the question.

"My Semblance?" she asks, and Joanna nods all serious-like from her place on the bunk above Robyn. Joanna often looks very serious, because she suffers from what Robyn calls resting thoughtful bitch face, so sometimes it's hard to gauge how actually serious about something she really is. "I mean, it's probably a mess in there right now."

"I keep forgetting you actually use it like storage space," Robyn adds cheerfully, having now progressed onto shoving May away from her laptop computer every time she tries to creep closer. "Since most Semblances are, y'know, combat-only things or like... special occasions, I guess. And yet here you are, telling people you really don't need a bag for all your groceries!"

It is fun to flex on all the people struggling to carry like six bags to their car or their home, and Fiona preens. "Yeah, it's nice. I mostly keep things in it that I'd wanna have in an emergency, but it's been a while since I last sorted through it, so, who knows what garbage I've put in there."

"Tell me Robyn's braincell is in there too," May says imploringly, still trying to slide an arm around Robyn to get at the keyboard, but Fiona just shakes her head. She can't and won't be blamed for that particular disappearance any time soon. Instead, she rubs her hands together, scrunching up her face as she tests the edges of the Semblance. It's a funny thing, a Semblance like this--she never really has to think about it, but it's always just in reach, like this extra weight in her chest that she can totally forget about. It's strange to think about, so she often just doesn't.

"Okay," she starts, and she goes for the biggest item she can sense, which is an easy one to explain. In her hands materialises an acoustic guitar, worn and scuffed with age, and this attracts to attention of every girl in the room. "Well, this one's easy. This is my guitar, and honestly? If I ever leave it behind in the meatspace and don't pick it up on my way out the door, know that you've just seen my evil clone and you have to kill her."

Joanna blinks, and Robyn seems caught between asking about the guitar, the evil clone, and also the fact that Fiona insists on referring to the physical world as the meatspace. So, she does as Robyn does best, and settles on an expletive. "Shit! You play?"

"Been playing since I was... like seven? Something like that." Fiona shrugs, because she really can't be sure; her first vague memory of even seeing this guitar was a long time ago, her uncle telling her it used to belong to her grandmother who'd never managed to learn a damn thing on it. So, Fiona had taken up practice, if only because it was something for a little lowlands Mantellian Faunus to do during the long, cold polar nights and the endless sunshine of the midnight sun. "But, yeah, this is always on me in some form or another."

"You should've played it whilst we were on watch our last mission," May says, with a certain scowl that Fiona knows is 100% directed at their team leader, who is currently off doing... some sort of bullshit with their partner, no doubt. Gods, this team is a nightmare. "All those hours trying to stay awake so we could stare into nothing..."

"Sorry," Fiona says, and she means it. She'd intended to, but, well, she'd sort of chickened out. The echo in the mountains is kind of insane. "Next time?"

May nods, but Joanna cuts off whatever she's about to say next by waving her hands through the air like she can physically dissipate the conversation. "Okay, okay, cool, but now I gotta else you got hiding in there."

Re-compressing her guitar--and oh, is Fiona thankful that dematerialising and rematerialising it doesn't leave it out of tune--Fiona has a mental root around. "Uh, okay, so, we've got--"

In no particular order, she starts pulling things out: a pair of thick gloves for the brutal Solitas chill, an extra pair of socks (hugely understated by most, but never by Fiona), a ushanka that Robyn instantly cheers for, and a couple of jackets ranging from light windbreakers to thick furred jackets that feel like she's wearing a mattress around her ribs. Her Scroll and wallet are in there too, naturally, as are her keys and some extra ammunition, and she pulls out a load of old train tickets with a grimace. "Hm. I was meant to throw these away years ago."

"You're basically carrying around a wardrobe in there, then?" May asks in a way that'd maybe be a little teasing if she didn't look about as jealous as she sounds, but it becomes a thoughtful expression when Fiona shakes her head again.

"Bold of you to think I haven't got a whole pantry in here too," she says, and now Joanna looks very interested. "Check this out."

The first thing she pulls out is a gallon jug of clean water--endlessly fucking useful, she's found, especially when you're in some situation where you can't sit on your ass for an hour waiting for the water purification tablets to do their job--before pulling out a whole host of Atlesian MREs that she keeps around just in case shit really does hit the fan. Atlas rations are... not good, in a phrase, but she's owed them her life more than once, so, whatever.

"What dates are on those?" May quickly interrupts with a critical eye, trying to make out the printed numbers on the snow-patterned packets, and Fiona tosses her one if only to distract May's hands from trying to puzzle out Robyn's password when Robyn isn't directly paying attention.

"Things don't really degrade in my Semblance," Fiona admits. "I've tested it before on stuff with a short shelf-life, like cheese and milk, and honestly I can leave it in there for months and have it come out just as fresh as when it went in. Something to do with a sort of... internal stasis, I guess." Then, she adds, "One thing in my Semblance is a goldfish in a bowl, but he's part of a practical theory I'm running, so I can't materialise him for another fifteen years or so."

"That sounds very normal," Joanna says, and Fiona is glad she agrees as she barrels right over the inherent sarcasm.

As May agonises over finding the date, though, Fiona continues to unveil her pantry--there's plenty of snacks, like dried fruit and nuts and energy bars and chocolate, and when she reveals she carries extra for every member of her team and then some (then some in this instance being Robyn and Joanna, not that she'll admit it), Robyn looks delighted. "That's so sweet! Look at you, making sure nobody goes hungry. You're one in a million."

That's cute and very gay, but Fiona has a lot of stuff to be working through and so she keeps on going--there's a flask of coffee that, thanks to the maybe-stasis, is eternally hot, a bottle of dark Mantellian ale she keeps as, uh, moral support, and she blushes when she pulls out half an uneaten tuna sandwich. "I wondered where that went. Whoops."

May looks up from the MRE for a second, and then does a double-take as she takes in the sight of the very limp and sad-looking sandwich, made courtesy of the Atlas Academy cafeteria. "Wait! Isn't that the sandwich you accused me of stealing last month?!"

"Anyway!" Fiona says with a forced grin, quickly making it disappear back into the void where it can safely continue not existing. "I think the final thing in here is... wait."

She blinks, and suddenly in her hands are at least a hundred little booklets entitled The Pocket Guide to Communist Outreach, scattering right over the floor. Robyn yelps, and then reaches down the side of her bunk to pick them up. "Oh shit! I forgot I asked you to hold onto these! I thought we ran out, nice."

Joanna's face is in her hands, and May sighs long and hard before tossing the MRE back to Fiona with a distinctly pained expression.

"It goes out of date in a month," she notes with distaste, and Fiona just sucks it up without a word. She'll be thankful for it when they end up down a dark cave with no backup, but Fiona figures she'll sit on that one for a bit before being able to make the greatest told you so call in history. She can wait.

"So," she says, watching as May takes advantage of Robyn's momentary distraction to try and access her computer again. "I guess... do you wanna hear me play a song?"

Joanna watches as her partner leans too far over the side of the bunk, yelping as she nearly slams her head directly into the hard vinyl of the floor, and she grimaces. "Please do."

Grinning, Fiona finds her guitar again--somewhere buried, she mentally notes, beside the gallon of water but under the coats--and she slings the broad strap about her shoulders before settling it on her lap, crossing her legs tightly beneath herself before finding her place on the fretboard. After having not played since being back home, it relaxes her more than she'd ever realised it did. It helps to be surrounded by friends, though. Helps to be with family.

"I don't take requests," she adds, flatly, and Robyn laughs from her place on the floor before music fills the dorm, soft and deep and achingly familiar of a place far, far below.

But she's okay with calling this place home, too.

[missinghan]

what if we ⤖ lee minho

❖ genre : college au; roommates au

❖ word count : 4,1k.

❖ warning : explicit language

❖ summary : Minho is more than fed up with your nonsense of not having a roommate until you graduate because he’s desperately in need of a new place after getting kicked out.

❖ a/n : the continuation of roommate lino is out now!

one.

Minho takes dreadful strides into M.I.A Cafe, completely waterlogged from head to toe like a wet rat, drained from trying to walk back home without an umbrella—even if he had one, the wind would have taken him along with it on an exhilarating ride while Poseidon is throwing a rampage at Zeus or whatever gods up there.

He slumps into the nearest seat possible, sinking deeply into the cushioned surface only to stain the blue velvet with his sodden leather jacket. Anyone else happening upon the scene might notice a more than average looking college kid; Minho’s mesmerizing, he really is. But not just because of his catlike smile or stupidly good hair without even trying, it’s also because he’s the president of the dance club despite being a business major. It’s not hard for him to gain even more attention since he works at the cafe on campus anyway. 

However, all Woojin sees from overlooking his workplace is his idiotic coworker who left ten minutes ago has officially given up on going against the bloody family feud above and come back to make his life miserable. Kang is going to give him shit for the wet cushions because Minho’s shift has fortunately ended. And it only gets worse from there. The younger boy pushes himself off the chair and flings his dripping bangs away from his face before taking off his jacket, deciding it’s a good idea to sway it back and forth, splashing water all over the clean floor.

“Lee Minho,” Woojin raises his voice slightly but Minho simply ignores his threatening tone and stuffs his leather jacket into his backpack. 

The brunet makes his way over to the countertop, hopping effortlessly onto one of the bar stools. “I would like a Vietnamese coffee, please,” Minho shows his friend those ridiculous looking sparkly eyes like he just stepped out from an anime, and Woojin forces a smile through gritted teeth. “Come on, I’m tired, don’t look at me as if I’m in charge of the weather or something.”

Woojin remains silent, and so does his death glare. Hence, Minho gives in and props his head onto his hand lazily. “Fine, just give me a hot chocolate, I’m freezing over here,” he shivers stoically as his brain is multitasking (yelling at him and considering his options at the same time). With the sky roaring as if it’s raging on with other supernatural forces, Minho isn’t overly fond of heading outside by himself again. Meaning, plan A: get a ride or plan B: stay with Woojin until his graveyard shift is over. Minho’s having an eight AM tomorrow and he’s not about to walk up to the nurse’s office with a broken ankle for skipping three steps at a time. But in what world would a guardian angel appear out of nowhere to drive him home?

A random Twitter notification pops up and he swipes it away dejectedly, wholly uninterested. When Woojin slides the paper cup across the countertop, he catches a glimpse of Minho’s lock screen and gasps as if he just saw something out of the ordinary. It’s not. “You replaced your cats’ photo with Y/N’s instead? Okay, I see you, you sly little bitch,” he chuckles creepily while wiping his hand onto the white apron. 

“It’s temporary,” Minho sneers like a cat having someone step on its tail. “Besides, she hates it, that’s why I put it there.” 

“Yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

Woojin is making a big deal out of this as if it’s a picture of you cuddling Minho or something. But in reality, it’s just a really ugly photo of you taking too big of a bite when he decided to flex his paycheck and took you out to a pizzeria. You forgave him because 1) you had the opportunity to eat real pizza after months of stocking up frozen ones from the supermarket, and 2) it’s only a matter of time until he’s over it and returns to his typical photos of his cats at home. 

“Yo,” Minho says after a sip of the hot beverage. “You’re moving out of Seungmin’s next week?”

Woojin replies, silently appreciating one of the rare civil conversations with his friend. “Yep, you? Don’t tell me that you haven’t found a place yet,” he stops himself right there, only to be met with complete dead silence. “Wait, you’re kidding, right? Aren’t you getting kicked out on Monday? How are you gonna find a place within three days?”

“Tough luck?” Minho shrugs nonchalantly, staring rather deeply at his lock screen, and an idea pops up inside his head. He feels the need to kick himself because he should have thought of this sooner. Biting his lower lip, he’s slightly nervous when his thumb taps onto your name in his contact. It’s not like you’re gonna rip his head off, why is he so jumpy about this anyway?

His train of thoughts get cut off when your raspy voice rings through his eardrums, “What do you want?”

two.

Your white Rover pulls up in front of the cafe after five minutes of cursing at him through the phone while dragging yourself out of bed and another ten to drive to your unwanted destination. 

“Get in before I rip your head off,” you deadpan, pushing your bangs away from your face. 

“I love you, did you know that?” Your heart totally didn’t skip a beat at that. He didn’t mean it, he couldn’t have meant it. It was lighthearted, it sounded lighthearted but was it supposed to be lighthearted? Great, now your heart just gives up on you while your brain is harassing you with some stupid assumptions without valid shreds of evidence. 

Minho smiles sheepishly at you after waving to Woojin—who isn’t very interested in his departure and enters your car in relief. Although you were doing nothing but spitting strings after strings of curse words at him, it genuinely made him feel at ease when he heard your voice through the phone, hanging by three percent of battery left. 

“Also, spill the hot chocolate, and I’m gonna throw you on the highway,” you warn him before starting the engine. The only problem with your morbid remarks is that Lee Minho is exclusively immune to them because he too, shares the same amount of insanity with you like how you both shared a sad tuna sandwich last Tuesday when the school canteen tried to recreate a Chipotle bowl. You both tasted it. And you were offended. 

Minho tosses his backpack to the backseats and replies in monotone, “I won’t, just don’t kill us. That’s all I’m asking from you.” He looks awfully good for someone who’s completely rain-soaked. How fucking unfair.

“That’s all?” you question without looking at him in the eye. He only hums a random melody from a song that you can’t quite remember before plugging his phone in with your speakers. Your face morphs into a frown at his vague reaction, “Usually one thing leads to another, you never ask me for a single favor and just leave me alone, are you sure that you didn’t forget your wallet and now you wanted a new tattoo?” 

He breaks into a fit of giggles at that, three are already enough for his ancestors to haunt him in his sleep. And your heart magically comes back more alive than ever at the sound; it really needs to stop doing that before you’re found dead on the street just by talking to him on the phone or something. “It’s not that,” Minho scratches the nape of his neck. “I’m basically gonna be homeless next week if I don’t manage to find a new place in like...three days.” 

The car grows silent for a second there before Didn’t know me by Heize starts blasting through the speakers when he puts one of his playlists on random. You look over at him deep in the eye, thinking rather thoroughly about this. And Minho starts feeling knots in his stomach when you avert your gaze back onto the road. Are you perhaps...mad at him?

“Don’t-even-think-about-it,” you deadpan. “You know how Yeji pleaded to move in with me after freshman year, and..failed miserably.”

“Come on! You can’t be this heartless, are you really gonna let me sleep on the sidewalk for a good three weeks?”

You click your tongue in annoyance while making a turn to the left. “I never said that you moron,” An eye roll soon follows your statement, and before Minho can even say anything, his mouth snaps shut, eyes wide. “You know that Chan lives alone right?”

He protests, “Chan always let Changbin and Jisung crash to make music. Besides, it’s a studio apartment, like hello? I’m not planning on losing my beauty sleep here. ”

“Woojin?”

“After the mess I made back there? He will murder me, Y/N,” Minho says without a single shred of fear in his voice, yet he’s giving you those Puss in Boots eyes as if he’s gonna let Woojin snap his head off that easily. Jeongin is still living on campus, and Minho would rather be sleeping with dead rats than sharing a room with Jisung because Seungmin would never let him step a foot onto his white carpet. 

You scrunch your nose and ignore the golden specks in his eyes, “You didn’t even try asking him, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind housing you for a few weeks. He’s a good guy and definitely doesn’t hate your ass enough to not let you sleep in the living room.”

“But,” he pouts sadly, in which you’re completely unaffected by. But here’s what makes your chest swell. “I like spending time with you,” he mumbles under his breath. Huh? Your heart rate falls flat before coming back to thunder inside your chest cavity twice as fast. Did he really just-

Minho sighs, and suddenly his shoulders start getting heavy. He feels rejected, but he shouldn’t since it’s not mandatory for you to let him stay with you. Perhaps, he’s nothing but a complete nuisance in your eyes after all. “But if you say so,” he murmurs, eyes turning stormy and you can feel a pit at your stomach. “I guess I’m gonna call Woojin then..”

And he ends the conversation there, abruptly. 

Raindrops knocking at your car’s windows. The sounds of his fingers tapping against the keyboard. Even your own rhythm of breathing. Everything’s piling onto your back as if you’ve just committed a terrible sin. 

Woojin is really busy this year, preparing for grad school and everything. And your current courses are pretty easy to handle, it’d be mean of you to let him contain Lee Minho while working two jobs. Especially when he’s constantly turning in assignments at a single minute right before the deadline. So with the little amount of morality left, you tell yourself to stop being a little bitch and start considering the possibilities of having a roommate for the very first time. 

“Fine,” you grumble after a good twenty seconds of thinking. “You can use my old air mattress, a month should be good before you’re able to find a new place. So we’re taking turns washing the dishes and splitting the bills in half, cool?”

Minho’s brain suddenly demands every part of his body to stop, his finger hovering over the ‘send’ button. “Gee okay, I get it, you don’t like having roommates. But you don’t have to be so pressed about it,” he concludes almost too fast for your brain cells to comprehend what’s going on in his mind. Was he even listening to you? “I knew you weren’t gonna let me stay with—“ His words instantly come to a halt, eyeballs ready to pop out of their respective sockets any second. 

“What?” he blurts, round eyes staring right at you expectantly. 

You scratch your nose with your ring finger when a coral tint rises on your cheekbones, something that you do a lot whenever you’re nervous. “I said you can come and stay with me for the time being,” you say lamely, having a spontaneous interest in the row of Sumikko Gurashi figures that Minho gave you on your birthday last year. “I don’t want you to poison Woojin with your cooking, roomie.”

“You’d better feed me then, Ramsay,” he beams with a bright smile—far brighter than the Sun itself and any of the stars above. And who were you kidding? It’s not his cooking that you’re worrying about. It’s not even Woojin that you’re worrying about. It’s him, you’re worried about him.

Besides, maybe you like spending time with him too. 

three.

After a whole night of hauling three gigantic cardboard boxes along with two suitcases into your apartment, you drag Minho’s ass out of bed at nine in the morning, push him into your car and slowly reverse out of your apartment’s parking lot. 

He’s not very attentive to his surroundings when he’s tired so he didn’t mind the monotonous voice of the news reporter coming out of the speakers. Whereas, he would have yelled at you by now to shut it off so he can blast his Spotify playlist at maximum volume to annoy people who apparently don’t know how to park their cars properly. Still, he only finished unpacking half of his luggage at four so it didn’t occur to him how little time he spent half-sleeping against your car’s window. 

It didn’t occur to him how you managed to maneuver him out of the vehicle either. But when his eyes start hurting from rubbing them too much, Minho realizes that you’re piloting him through an old couple shopping hand in hand, a sweaty man in his mid-forties wearing a tracksuit and a child tugging at his mom’s skirt, begging for a lollipop. He gazes downward, eyes stop dead in their tracks seeing your hand intertwined with his while your free one is scrolling through the list of groceries on your phone. 

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty, glad that you’re finally awake,” the amount of sarcasm laced in your tone just makes the blush on his cheeks disappear in the span of half a second. 

Minho makes a face and pulls his hand back to grab a cart, trailing after your footsteps grimly like an obedient puppy. “Waking up early was not in the contract,” he lets out the loudest yawn possible without covering his mouth, no manners whatsoever. “That lawsuit for child labor? Pending.”

You chuckle dryly and toss a box of oatmeal cookies into the cart, not really caring that he’s sleepy and tired. You’re the one who’s driving after all. “It technically is,” you say with a meek smile and turn around, watching him throw in a bag of popcorn, barbecue flavored chips, and other junks that scream college staple food. He told you that he’s making use of the school’s gym five times a week but seeing the amount of trash that’s piling up, you doubt that his efforts are gonna matter at this point. 

“I told you that we’re grocery shopping every Monday morning because we both don’t have classes on Monday mornings.”

Minho only groans loudly like a damsel in distress until you both reach the vegetable aisle. He immediately goes for the asparagus and broccoli, probably to water down the amount of sodium from the chips. 

You’re not sure if it’s just because he’s sleepy but the rest of your banter while raiding the supermarket is fairly civil. In short, it’s the most normal conversation you’ve ever had with him. Not that you’re complaining, it's actually really nice to see how he also has a soft side to him. Not only did Minho grab the chicken breasts for Chan because that guy cannot live without them, but he also called Changbin to check which flavor of the protein bar that he prefers. It seems like he’s gonna crash at Chan’s place for an upcoming secret project. 

When you both queue up at the self-checkout line, he observes the light blue packaging of your shampoo curiously. He notices how you stopped getting the twelve ounces bottle and went for the twenty-four ounces one instead. 

“You’re still using this one? I thought you said you wanted to change it up every time?” He asks, propping his head onto your shoulder lazily. Minho remembers how you started to try out this brand three months ago and he laughed his ass off at you for being so determined to go through all of their scents. It’s dumb, yes, but he commented on every single one of them anyway. 

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?” 

Your body tenses up when he sniffs at your hair, nose brushing against the back of your ear, and it’s not helping either when his forearms are resting against the lines of your waist so he can hold onto the cart while you’re too busy bombarding Yeji with questions about the frat party she attended last night. You’re basically trapped between him and the cart; you can’t believe you’re only realizing that just now. 

“Hold up, I thought you usually go grocery shopping alone?” Yeji flips the table and inquires slyly on the other line, then she lets out an audible gasp. It’s so loud that Minho staggers backward from surprise, almost hitting the cart behind. “Is that Lee Minho?! Y/N, what are you two doing at the Asian market at ten AM? Together?!”

Words spill out of your mouth before you can even process them properly. “We saw each other coincidentally and ended up using the same cart.” And now you want to put your head through a wall because what kind of an answer was that? Your brain had to malfunction at that very moment, in the middle of that very call, it just had to. “Okay, whatever, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow during Park’s lecture, see you,” you hang up just like that, not knowing how to act because now you have to tell Yeji about how you—a complete loner—is finally having a roommate. But that roommate isn’t her specifically. 

“You good? You look a bit..feverish,” Minho rests a hand on your forehead while his free one pushes the cart forward. Still in a daze, your heart shudders, and your back accidentally comes in contact with his chest, making you drop your phone onto the carton of eggs in a panic. “Careful there, that’s two months worth of eggs,” he reminds you, clearly not having a single clue of how giddy you are right now. 

Also, saying that you’re giddy is an understatement. 

You shake your head and mutter, “Right, sorry, you were saying?”

“I just asked why you stopped trying the rest of the scents and committed to April Cotton so easily.”

“It’s because you said it’s the best one so far,” you answer honestly, almost too honestly because right now, Minho feels like someone’s using his heart to juggle right inside his chest cavity. 

four.

That night, after Minho’s monstrous shift at the cafe and three hours of you FaceTiming Yeji to procrastinate about a writing assignment, you both are sprawled across your white fuzzy carpet that sheds more than three of his cats combined. 

In between is an empty cup of McFluffy, a sad piece of pepperoni pizza and leftover fries, all being placed on a piece of newspaper because Minho’s promised you that if he ever dirtied your carpet, he’d take you to a concert. His bank account isn’t ready for that yet. A Dog’s Way Home just ended two minutes ago and as the ending credits roll, you’re all curled up inside your over-sized hoodie, sniffling into a piece of tissue. 

“Day one with your new roommate here and you’re already shedding tears Jesus Christ,” Minho tells you after stretching his limbs out tiredly, eyes becoming droopy.  

“Shut up,” you punch his arm and laugh, wiping the remaining of your tears with your sleeves. “I swear I saw your eyes watering when Bella reunited with Big Kitten.”

“They did not?” He shoots you a shit-eating grin when he settles back down onto the floor, supporting his head with his hands. To be fair, the CGI was kinda shitty, a little bit noticeable but the reunion was too emotional for him to care about something as meaningless as that. 

Minho ignores how you’re mumbling something and instead, turns onto his side and grabs a piece of fries, chewing obnoxiously. “So, Y/N,” he inquires rather cautiously. “How does it feel like to finally have good company along with good food?” 

You hum for a while but answer with little consideration, eye closed, “I could use someone with a smaller mouth, and a smaller ego too but yeah, it’s kinda dope.” And you open one side of your eyes to see him being the literal CTRL+V of the surprised Pikachu meme. He looks betrayed, as if someone just sneaked into your apartment and snatched all of his packets of instant ramen in one go, just like whoosh, out the door they go with his daily breakfast. 

“It feels kinda nice too,” you proceed to continue, staring at the ceiling to avoid eye contact with him. “Because I know although this person acts like an asshole most of the time, he’s just a really big softie on the inside. I like how he called his friends in the middle of his shopping trip to see if he’s getting them the right flavor of protein bars, how he paid for the groceries even though we’re equally broke, and how he skipped dance practice to volunteer at a nursing home every weekend.” 

You’re not looking, but you’re pretty sure that Minho’s smile is growing so big, his cheeks are about to crack in half. “I didn’t tell anyone about that,” he stifles a laugh. “It’s either you’re somewhat a creep or you’re just really cautious about what kind of people you let into your life.”

“I’m a loner, what can I say?” You chuckle lightheartedly, feeling slightly fuzzy inside for no particular reason. “I am really cautious when it comes to stuff like that because the more you let people into your life, the more it hurts when they decide they’re gonna leave you.”

“Hah! So that’s why you’re so stubborn about the whole not having a roommate thing?” You nod sheepishly at that, feeling kinda embarrassed because it feels like he’s unraveling your secrets right under your nose. 

The signature catlike smile lingers on his lips when you turn on your right to face him, and your useless heart thinks it’s a good time to skip a beat when your eyes meet his round ones with ridiculously beautiful lashes. You’ve never felt like this towards anyone before, it’s risky, you know it but you think you can trust him. You can trust Lee Minho. 

Although he wasn’t this big, sassy persona that has a questionable obsession with cats and dancing when you first met him. You encountered Minho for the very first time backstage at the school’s music festival to support 3RACHA’s performance. Initially, he made absolutely no effort to even greet you like how a civil human being would, but he was intrigued when he saw the SpiderMan plush keychain on your backpack. And it seemed like fate was only trying to push both of you closer together because you kept bumping into him on campus. So it’s only a matter of time before he decided that he hated eating lunch alone and asked for the empty seat next to you, offering you his watered-down cup of coffee. 

“What made you change your mind then? Why not just reject me?” Minho scoots closer to you, eyes sparkling with anticipation. 

“Because I feel like..you won’t be leaving me anytime soon..”

“Damn right, I can never stop bothering you.”

You don’t know where, how, or why you can muster every fiber of courage left inside of you to tell him that. But that doesn’t matter now, does it? Maybe this is a sign, the universe wants you to stop being so closed up all the time and open up to new people (regardless of how shitty you think they are) because life’s way too short to play the role of the lone traveler on this planet. And it’s madness to think that all it took this boy was half a cup of Vietnamese coffee and a call at such an ungodly hour for your heart to be completely his. Nothing’s gonna change much, you think. You’re gonna still free-fall into this hellhole called ‘college’ with your first world problems like everyone else but the only difference is that you don’t have to be alone anymore. There’s a hand for you to hold, a shoulder for you to lean on and your heart has found its new home. You don’t think you’ve ever felt it being so alive before. However, you’re not against it even when you’re still dubious. 

Because that’s how you’re supposed to feel your entire life. 

❖ p/s : I hope you enjoyed this little monster that I managed to whip up in the past few days, I thought it’d be nice if I could give you guys smth as a “parting gift” for my [rest]. I was very, very sleep-deprived as I proofread this so please don’t come for me & I’ll see you in the next fic!

[riceccakes]

1 & catradora :)

trope writing prompts: send a number and a pairing :)

hi anon, you didn’t pick a category so i’m choosing my favorite out of the three, hope thats okay !!

“What, you’ve never thought about us?”

-

Adora was leaving. She was brought into Hordak’s office and left with a bittersweet smile. Catra didn’t need to even ask; Adora got the promotion. This would’ve been something to celebrate, had the promotion not meant moving across the country to the sister company, Dryl Inc.

“Hey, this doesn’t mean I’m gonna fall off the face of Etheria,” Adora said as Catra helped her clean her desk. “I’ll still call and I’ll visit every now and then.”

Catra kept her mouth shut, biting her tongue. It was too much at that moment, to try and even put into words what she was feeling. Instead, she hastily scanned Adora’s file cabinet of folders and tossed whatever the woman wouldn’t need.

Adora was Catra’s first friend at Prime Co. The desk job was going to be temporary, answering phone calls and trying to sell merchandise to make money while she looked for something more permanent. But, her and Adora started on the same day, were in the same training session, even were in the same group for “Team Building Exercises.” When the scheduled lunch time came around, Adora sat down at Catra’s empty table with a smile.

“Do you like tuna?” she asked. She stopped, shaking her head, “Was that stereotypical? I’m sorry, I should’ve worded this better.”

Catra kept a close eye on her, not responding as Adora pulled out three sandwiches, four bags of chips, two large cookies, and four juice boxes.

“I saw you weren’t eating so I thought I might offer one of my sandwiches,” Adora started, holding two of the three up, “I have two roast beef and one tuna, but I should’ve worded this all better.”

She began muttering to herself, fiddling with the plastic wrapped sandwiches and Catra finally reacted. She laughed, taking the tuna out of her hand and opening it.

“You’re fine, dummy. I like tuna.” She bit into it, glancing up to see Adora’s pink cheeks trying to hide.

They’d been at the company together for almost two years and while Catra was still coasting along, sure she’d stay until she found a more suitable career, Adora was excelling like no other coworker. Their boss, Hordak, had been giving her a bit of extra treatment, at least Catra noticed. She was sure Adora would be chosen for the new promotion Hordak announced a few months ago and wasn’t surprised today when Hordak called out from his office for Adora to see him.

When the last bit of Adora’s desk was in the box issued by Hordak, the picture frame of the two girls from the holiday party on top, Catra sighed.

“How long until you have to leave?”

“About a week,” Adora answered, lugging the box towards the elevator. “I have to pack my apartment too and everything.”

“Right,” Catra looked at the floor, wrapping her tail around herself. She stayed a few feet from Adora, wishing the elevator door wouldn’t open. She hissed at the sound when it did.

Adora stepped in, calling out Catra’s name. “Help me move out?”

Catra rolled her eyes, “Of course, idiot.”

When Catra clocked out, she drove to Adora’s almost too quickly. She hadn’t realized how much she dreaded that office; without Adora, her deskmates were bland and boring, lunch was a drag, and the empty space next to her hurt her heart more than she wanted to admit. 

Catra called out over the next few days, opting to help Adora move rather than endure more nine hour shifts in her newfound hell. She was silent for almost all of the packing sessions, still too upset to see Adora go. (Deep down in her heart, Catra hoped Adora would say no to the promotion. She hoped Adora would want to stay with her and not leave and keep working together and play pranks on Kyle until they retired. She hoped she wouldn’t have to ask Adora this, she hoped Adora would just know.) 

Catra knew Adora was talking, but the sentences never stuck in her mind. She was too busy wrapping dinner plates in old newspaper and bubblewrap and trying her hardest to stop her shaking hands from dropping any.

When she placed the last one in the box (all of them in tact, a feat in itself) she heard Adora say, “Let’s get drinks.”

It’d be only one more day before Adora had to leave. Catra placed the last box in the moving truck and nodded. Her tail wrapped around her again and she felt her ears drop. Adora placed her hand on Catra’s shoulder and she shuddered, quickly pulling away. Another time she’d deal with all the thoughts in her head, all the words she was screaming in her throat, all the “Please don’t go.” “You don’t need a new job.” “I’ll just make Hordak give you a raise, that’ll be enough right?” “Who am I supposed to make fun of Kyle with? Lonnie? She’s all talk and no bite, she’s always eating lunch with him and Rogelio.” Another time she’d deal with all of those thoughts, that’s what Catra told herself.

At the bar, Catra and Adora found a booth in the back. It was closed off from the rest of the patrons, perhaps for the better because Catra didn’t want anyone else to see her cry. (She wasn’t banking on it happening but she’d been close to doing so the past few nights, maybe this night would be what broke her.)

“Oh, come on, Catra,” Adora kicked her leg under the table. “Lighten up, I told you this isn’t goodbye.”

She sulked in her seat, swishing the vodka soda in her cup.

“You know, I asked Hordak if I could bring you.”

Catra froze, “What?”

“I’m supposed to be some department head when I get to Dryl Inc. I asked if I’d need an assistant or something but Hordak wouldn’t budge.”

“Assistant, really?”

Adora raised an eyebrow, “Oh, so you’d rather I just go and not make an effort to try and bring you?”

Catra’s eyes widened, Adora’s tone sounded insulted. She shook her head, “Wait, that’s not what I--”

Adora laughed, kicking her leg again, “I was just joking, Catra.”

Catra’s ears fidgeted, her mind trying to understand why Adora tried to get Hordak to let her leave too. “Why’d you ask him?”

Adora gulped, taking a long sip from her beer, “Well, I just. You know, it’s always been you and me at the company and well. I don’t know, I just thought,” she paused, finishing her drink. “What, you’ve never thought about us?”

The emphasis on the word scared Catra, much deeper and closer to her core than the thought of Adora leaving at all. Of course she’d thought about them, the two of them as more than friends. All the movie nights in Adora’s apartment after a long day at work, all the fast food deliveries to the office when Catra would reluctantly stay overtime since Adora was. All the times Adora’s blue eyes sparkled in the dingy office lighting (seriously, how did her eyes do that?) and all the times Adora’s laughter perked her tail in delight. She thought about all the company parties they attended, about Adora dressed up in a long dress with her hair pulled back and her neck exposed and that stupid perfume that made Catra’s hands twitch because she just wanted to grab Adora’s waist and kiss her. Of course she thought about it all.

And even while she wanted to say all of it then, her throat closed up and Catra just stared at Adora.

“Oh.” Adora reached for her beer again and brought it to her lips, eyes widening at the clear bottom. She placed it down with a blush, looking down at the table. She whispered, “Well, I have, a lot. I’ve always been too scared to try anything, for example, right now, because clearly you haven’t and I’ve made this weird.”

Catra desperately wanted to correct her, wanted to reach across the table and yank her shirt to pull her into a kiss. But she was stuck in her spot, staring at Adora who still looked gorgeous even when she was sad.

“I just like having you around and you’re really soft and you’re always nice to me,” Adora continued. Her voice was barely audible but Catra made it her mission to hear every last word. “I’m just really gonna miss you.”

Catra heard the sentence, felt her heart jump out of her chest at the notion of Adora missing her at all. She internally slapped herself across the face and finally forced her body to move. She jolted up, slamming her knees on the underside of the table as she grabbed Adora by the collar and kissed her.

Their teeth crashed and Catra knew her knees would turn into a bluish, purple color but she didn’t care. Adora’s lips were soft and tender and that stupid perfume she wore made her quietly moan as she pulled away for air. Adora pulled her back in, placing a few more gentle kisses, more successful ones at that, and let out a shaky breath.

“What the hell was that, Catra?”

With her heart rate settling, Catra kept her eyes shut. She didn’t want to sound stupid, didn’t want Adora to know just yet she was melting like putty, so she forced her brain to regain consciousness.

“If you wanted me to come with you, you should’ve just said so,” she breathed. Adora kissed her cheek and she cursed under her breath, “You’re packing up all my shit, though.”

[not-mandip]

okay okay, a couple questions if you don't mind. Honey on just any type of pizza? I haven't ever tried it, but I am not knocking it. Just wondering what kind of pizza you put honey on. but then, mayo tuna and *jelly*? like, grape jelly you use with pbj's? that throws me a little - if it was chicken i could almost see it only because I know people who put both grapes and apples in their chicken salad. That isn't my thing either, but it isn't terrible. Anyway, next time I find myself in possession of both pizza and honey, I'm trying it.

Honey on pizza:

DO IT DUDE!

I add honey to all pizza! It sort of started in quarantine out of curiosity and it’s so good. The trick is to not add a lot so it compliments the flavor of the pizza instead of overpowering if that makes sense😅 I couldn’t find a good pic with honey but there u have a visual representation of how it should look like.

And now to the cursed sandwich:

The backstory is sort of sad but we don’t have time to unpack all that.... Yup, the same jelly (although, I use sugar free strawberry jelly). It sounds weird but it’s actually not that bad? It’s not the kind of good that makes god come down to tell you enjoy ur meal, but it’s a pretty decent snack.

I even made someone from here try it, and here’s what they said:

(Ignore my name oh god)

Their brother made one! So it must be good.

[datheetjoella]

Fantober 2020, Day 24: Picnic

Author: DatHeetJoella Fandom: Free! Pairing: MakoHaru Rating: T Part: 24/31 (read the full collection here) Word count: 1,564 Tags: Canonverse, Established Relationship, Fluff, Quarantine, Pandemic, References to Sexual Content Read at: AO3, FFn, or right here!

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

When Makoto visited the shrine on January first and prayed for a good year, the last thing he expected was to be in quarantine because of a pandemic three months later. And yet, that was exactly the situation he found himself in.

His study and work had been put on hold and he had to refrain from leaving his home except for necessary groceries, but Makoto felt like he couldn't complain. He wouldn't get lonely because Haruka was here and there was no one he'd rather be stuck inside with than him. They recently moved into a bigger apartment, so even if they did get sick of each other's company - which was unlikely - they could retreat to either the bathroom and their bedroom, which was separate from the living room and kitchen. All of their loved ones remained to be healthy up until now which was a blessing in itself, and he'd always been a homebody anyway so he didn't miss going out and about as much as some of their more extroverted friends.

But there were days Makoto couldn't help but feel lost. After all, he was in Tokyo to follow his dreams and it was a bit frustrating he couldn't continue to live the life he meticulously built here. When days passed during which cancelled plans should've taken place, the sullen feeling welled up and he missed even the most mundane things, like going to a bookstore with Ikuya and Hiyori or drinking coffee at Marron and catching up with Kisumi, Asahi, Akane and little Tsukushi.

Today was one of those days. The cherry trees were in full bloom and even though they hadn't planned a flower-viewing party with their friends, Makoto always looked forward to the season. It was sad to let the beautiful petals fall without appreciating them properly, but spring would come again and Makoto was sure they could celebrate a new start then. Health and safety were priority number one, everything else could wait until later.

Fortunately, Makoto wasn't one to get bored easily so on days like these, he distracted himself by reading a book or playing some games. While Haruka didn't mind being cooped up at home either, he did miss the freedom of swimming at the pool. To make up for the lack of water, he spent even more time in the tub than usual and to release his excess energy, he dragged Makoto over to their bedroom at least twice a day. It could be a bit exhausting, especially if Haruka insisted on a second or even a third round, but Makoto would be lying if he said he disliked this turn of events. Being with Haruka so much, both between the sheets and outside of them, was the silver lining amidst this awful situation.

After one of these 'morning marathons', Makoto was the one relaxing in the bath for a change. He invited Haruka to join him, but he claimed he had something to do and left swiftly after they cleaned up. Not wanting to pry, Makoto let him off the hook without any questions. If it was important, he was sure Haruka would tell him eventually.

Cuddling with Haruka held his preference, but it was also nice to be able to stretch out his legs for once. With his eyes shut in contentment, Makoto basked in the warm, soapy clutch, enveloped by comfort and serenity; moments like these made him understand Haruka's affinity for the water a little more. He could stay here for hours, but the seed of curiosity Haruka planted in his mind by acting so cryptically began to grow as the water nourished it.

When his stomach growled, he gave in to the temptation and yanked the plug out of the drain. He dried himself quickly and slipped on some loungewear. If Haruka was still busy, he would leave him be. Then he'd be a good boyfriend and whip up some egg sandwiches for their lunch.

"Haru?" he called as he opened the bathroom door and his jaw hurtled to the floor.

The furniture inside their living room was shoved aside and Haruka was sitting on a large quilt in the middle of it. Multiple lunchboxes with all kinds of different food, from onigiri and karaage to pieces of fish and a variety of vegetables, were set out beside him along with a thermos and two cups. And to top it all off, an enormous drawing of a hanging, blossoming cherry tree was taped against the wall, fallen petals spread across the floor.

"Haru," Makoto gasped, slapping a hand over his mouth to stifle his astonishment. "What's all of this?"

"You looked so somber that we can't go out to watch the cherry blossoms, so I thought I'd bring the cherry blossoms here."

Tears emerged in Makoto's eyes, but he swallowed them before they could spill. Ever since they were little, Haruka had been incredibly kind and thoughtful, yet gestures like these never ceased to surprise Makoto.

"This is amazing, Haru," he said, letting his eyes drink in the atmospheric feast Haruka prepared. "When did you do all of this?"

"I started this morning when you were still asleep and I finished it while you took a bath," Haruka said, a soft, shy smile adorning his lips.

"So that's why you were so eager to keep me in bed," Makoto said; Haruka was always excited and ready to pamper him behind closed doors, but he brought it to a new level this morning.

"Part of the reason," Haruka mumbled and Makoto could read the rest of the reason on his face, that was shaded the same lovely pink as the paper petals. "Now, sit down and eat before the food spoils."

At the mention of food, Makoto's stomach cried out again. At least he hadn't skipped breakfast for nothing.

He plopped down on the quilt beside Haruka, who handed him a pair of chopsticks. They said their thanks, then Makoto didn't waste a second before he dug in. He picked up an omelette roll, that was so soft and fluffy it melted on his tongue. He had to resist the urge to moan; he'd already disturbed the neighbours enough at that point.

"This is so good, Haru," he said through his full mouth. "Thank you so much for doing this for me."

Haruka shrugged. "I know it's not the same as an actual picnic with our friends beneath a real cherry tree, but I hope you still like this."

"I love it," Makoto said, leaning over to drop a kiss onto Haruka's cheek, "I couldn't have wished for anything more than this; this is the best flower-viewing party I've ever been invited to."

And he meant every word. Despite them being inside their house and the tree being cut out of pencil-coloured pages of his notebook, the ambience hadn't gotten lost. On the contrary, because it was just the two of them at home, the ambience was even better than it would've been otherwise. Haruka put so much effort into doing this especially for him and that made it so much more meaningful than anything they could've set up with a group of friends. This was so charming and whimsical it turned Makoto's insides to mush, his heart fluttering against his ribcage.

Perhaps Haruka was even more of a hopeless romantic than him. But if he said that, Haruka would surely get annoyed at him and he wouldn't want to make him grumpy after this grand gesture of affection.

"I had no idea you were planning something like this," Makoto said instead as he plucked a mini tomato from one of the boxes. As a token of his appreciation, he'd leave most of the mackerel for Haruka.

"If I let you notice, then it wouldn't have been a surprise."

"You're right. You raised the bar by a lot, though. I don't know how I'm ever going to top this."

"You don't have to," Haruka said, munching on a tuna with mayonnaise onigiri. "I didn't do this to get something in return."

"I know, but this is so special to me, I want to do something for you that gives you that special feeling, too."

"Idiot," Haruka said as he picked at a grain of rice, "You don't have to do anything for that."

Fireworks of adoration exploded in Makoto's stomach. Haruka was so cute, he truly loved him too much for his own good. This adorable reaction only made the desire to return the favour fizz up even stronger.

"Thanks, Haru." An unrestrainable smile curled Makoto's lips. "Still, this is so much fun, we should do things like this more often. When all of this is over and we can go out again, I'll take you on a nice date. I can't promise it'll be anywhere near as good as this, but I'll try my best."

"If you insist, then I'll be looking forward to that," Haruka said with a tiny smile of his own brightening his beautiful face.

Makoto leaned forward and stole a kiss from Haruka's mouth, the flavours of the food intermingling between them. He wasn't sure yet what he was going to organise for their date, but fortunately, he had a lot of time to think about it. For now, he would simply enjoy their little picnic and revel in this amazing moment Haruka created.

[stateofloveandnegan]

Put It Away - David Budd

I haven’t written anything in ages and for a new, second start, I wanted to do something with Richard Madden. I hope y’all like it! I’m glad to be back :)

Requested by: no one

“Ready, love?” David asks with a soft smile, putting his suit jacket on for your lunch date. We’ve been together for the past three years and at times it’s been hard, because of Dave’s job. At times I don’t see him for days, sometimes for weeks, but we’ve gotten through it, through everything, together.

I smile at David and nod, putting on my nice denim jacket before putting my phone in my pocket. “Yeah, let’s go.” I hold out my hand for him, which he takes as we walk outside. David closes the door behind us and locks it before we leave.

We walk in comfortable silence for a while, until we reach the centre of the city. “Do you already know where you wanna go?” David asks and squeezes my hand. You’d never expect him to be so soft and sweet when you first lay eyes on him. Especially not when he’s at work, wearing those professional clothes and that serious, almost angry, look on his face when he’s concentrated.

“That looks nice.” I say and point at a table on a terrace a little away from us. He smiles and we walk towards it. David, being the gentleman he is, holds back a chair for me so I can sit, before seating himself across from me.

I take my denim jacket off, leaving me in my black and white striped blouse. David smiles at me and keeps my gaze for a moment. I smile back at him and ask myself, ‘how is he still able to make me blush after three years of being together?’. “What’s up?” I ask softly and he chuckles quietly. “Nothin, love. You just look amazin, as always.”

The small blush deepens a little and I roll my eyes with a smile, shaking my head as a waiter comes up to our table, taking our order for drinks and handing us a menu. We both thank him and open the menu’s, scanning through them as we look for something we want to have for lunch.

“I think I’m gonna take the Pulled Chicken sandwich with a small salad. It sounds really nice.” David speaks up after a couple minutes and I nod. “That does sound really good. I’m gonna take the Tuna salad sandwich.”

Not much later, the waiter returns with our drinks and takes our order for the food, taking the menus with him as he leaves. Dave and I hold up our drinks and he grins, “Cheers, love.”

“Cheers, sweetheart.” I smile at clink our glasses gently together before taking a sip. I let out a soft sigh and let the sun soak in for a moment.

David hums softly and leans forward on the table a little, “What’s going through your mind?” He asks softly, inspecting my face.

I open my eyes again and look at him, letting out another soft sigh as I shrug and smile softly. “I’m just happy you’re here with me. I know it’s your job and we’ve talked about it so often, but I can’t help and miss you and worry about you when you’ve got to stay somewhere else and put your life at risk.”

David sighs softly and nods, a small smile on his face. “I know, love. But you know, I’m a strong man, so you don’t ever have to worry about me.” A playful grin enters his face as he teases me. I chuckle and nod, “I know you’re strong, Dave.”

Right at that moment, the waiter once again returns, this time with our lunch. “Looks and smells amazin.” David comments and smiles at the waiter, nodding at him as a ‘thank you’ before he leaves.

I take my first bite and hum, David doing the same and we chuckle softly. “Definitely chose the right place to have lunch at.” I smile at David and he nods, humming in response.

After we’ve both finished our food, David’s phone suddenly starts ringing. The look on his face, something of a grimace and frown in one, tells me it’s work and he’s got to take it. “Go on, it’s alright. I’ll wait here.” I say softly, to which he sends me a sympathetic smile before answering and getting up.

A couple of minutes after David leaves, I notice someone approaching me. At first, I think it might be someone I know, but as he gets closer, I am certain I’ve never seen the man before. The look on his face makes me very uncomfortable and when he stops beside the table, I swallow softly before looking up at him, trying to remain calm. “Can I help you, sir?”

The man smirks, “So polite.” he mumbles, “Polite and hot as hell. Tell me, hm, what is a girl like you doing on her own?”

I can already feel my blood boiling, but I stay calm. “I’m not alone, sorry to disappoint you. If you’d be so kind and leave, I’d appreciate that.” But my words only seem to increase the smirk on the man’s face and he even moves back David’s chair to take a seat. But I don’t let that happen, I push my chair back and stand up. “Sir, I have no idea, nor any interest, in you being here. Please leave this table and take your business elsewhere.”

The man snorts and is about to speak up, but another voice interrupts him, a voice that calms me down instantly. “Didn’t you hear her? Leave her alone.”

David stands beside our table, right where the man stood just moments before. “And why would I listen to you?” The man challenges David. David’s face is serious and not to be messed with, but it doesn’t seem to have any effect on the man, who’s now sat on the chair.

“Because you don’t want to get on my wrong side, sir. And right now, you are getting there very easily. Don’t try anything with my girl, or I will have to get in action.” David says. He’s changed from his usual self when he’s around you, into the man he is when he’s at work, a real, (over)protective bodyguard.

The man opposite you just laughs and shakes his head, turning his attention from David to me. Just as he’s about to say something, David once again interrupts him. “P.S. David Budd, sir.” He speaks formally, a tone of anger in his voice, and he shows his badge to the man. “I am asking you to leave me and my girlfriend. If you won’t, then I’ll have to step in and handle situation in a way you wouldn’t like it. I suggest you get up and leave to not cause any trouble.”

In the meantime, the people around us on the terrace, and some bystanders, have stopped what they were doing and turned their attention to us. My heartbeat picks up when the man stands up and steps right in front of David, their noses almost touching. “You don’t scare me, little police officer.”

My eyes switch from the man to David and when I notice his arm moving and his hand reaching behind his back, a flash of fear crosses my eyes and I shake my head. “Dave… don’t.” I whisper, why did he have to bring his gun with him on a lunch date?

David doesn’t budge and takes the gun in his hand behind is back, not making any further movements. “The standing up is a beginning. Now, continue by walking away.” David says in a low voice, a voice that would’ve made goosebumps arise on my skin if he were talking to me like that.

I take a deep breath as the man smirks and moves to sit down again, but before he can manage to do so, David grabs his collar and presses his gun against the man’s chest.

“David!” I yell, getting up from my seat. “Stop it!”

“(Y/N), sit down!” He replies firmly, but I don’t, not wanting this to happen like this. I can’t believe he’s pointing his gun at a man, just because he was being an asshole. “No, David. Put your gun away, now! Put it away!”

“I’m not gonna say it again, (Y/N).” David says and briefly makes eye contact with me. I shake my head, “This… this isn’t worth it, David. He was being an asshole, yes. But get that fucking gun away from his chest!”

After what feels like twenty more minutes of arguing, David still has the gun pointed at him, the man challenging David here and there. I shake my head, disbelief written all over my face, and grab my jacket. With tears in my eyes, I lay enough money on the table and when David notices what I’m doing, his serious expression turns into one of confusion and sadness.

“(Y/N), what are you doing? Hey…” he speaks softly, but is still pointing the gun at the man’s chest. The man snorts and makes a comment about the situation as I walk away from the terrace. That’s the moment David snaps and instead, thank the heavens, of shooting him, David gives him a rather hard kick in his stomach before letting him go and running after me. “(Y/N), stop, please.” he pleads, but I don’t stop walking, still unable to believe that he would actually do what he just did.

A tear escapes my eyes and I hiccup softly. “Leave me alone, Dave.” I mumble, only just loud enough for him to hear. He sighs deeply, but doesn’t grant my wish and only picks up his pace, soon joining my side.

“Stop running, please. I’m sorry.” He saysand when he notices he tears, his heart breaks a little. I finally come to a halt, the reason being out of breath more than wanting to stop. David looks at me with very sad eyes, “I- I’m so sorry.” he says, “He shouldn’t have bothered you, love.”

“No, David. No. You should never have grabbed your gun, you threatened his life, for god’s sake!” I yell at him, blinking away the tears. David shakes his head and gulps a little. “No, that’s not what I did, (Y/N). He was bothering you and did not have any intentions of leaving you alone, I did what he deserved.”

I scoff at his words and shake my head, ��I don’t even understand why you had that gun with you in the first place. I’m not one of those people that needs protection from you, David. I am your girlfriend!”

As soon as I finish my sentence, I continue my way home, but this time walking instead of running. David immediately follows close, his mind racing with thoughts and every second he opens his mouth to say something, but keeps ending up shutting his mouth again.

“Love, please…” David speaks very quietly after we both enter the house. He shuts the door behind him and stays put as I turn around, taking my jacket off while doing so. “Not now, Dave. Just… not now, okay?”

Some people might say that I’m overreacting, but I’m really not. I’ve always known David had guns, but to actually see him pull his gun on someone who actually didn’t do anything other than being a jerk, that has an impact. And it triggered something inside me, it also showed me a side of David I’d never seen before. Him being protective is a good thing, I guess, but he went too far today.

David nods and sighs, “Alright, I’m gonna go for a walk. I’ll see you later.” His voice sounds defeated and before I can stop him, he’s already out of the house. I let out a loud sigh and walk into the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea.

A couple hours later, I’ve finished making dinner. David has still not returned from his walk and you could say I’m getting a little worried. I grab my phone and unlock it, but just as I’m about to ring him, the front door opens and David walks in.

“I was just about to call you, dinner is ready.” I say softly, entirely calmed down from the events that happened earlier.

David looks up and smiles a little, but it doesn’t entirely reach his eyes. “Thank you,” he says and takes off his suit jacket, putting the gun, which he was apparently still carrying, away and joins me at the dining table. “I’m sorry I took so long.”

“It’s alright.” I grab hold of my beer and hold it up, searching for David’s eyes. “Cheers.” I say softly. David smiles again, this time much more genuine than the one before, and brings his glass up to mine, gently clinking it together, “Cheers, love.”

At first, dinner goes by in silence, both David and I not really knowing what to say. So, after a little while, I break the silence and speak a little carefully.

“Hey, about earlier…” I look up at Dave and he meets my eyes, nodding briefly to let me know he’s listening. “I should’ve thanked you instead of pushing you away like I did. You were protecting me and I wasn’t being fair.”

David looks down at his plate for a moment before looking back up and shaking his head. “No, (Y/N). You were right, I went too far. I shouldn’t have taken a gun with me to a lunch date with you and I should never have used it like I did today.”

David and I both look down and let out soft sighs before looking up. “I love you, Dave. More than anything, you know that right?”

David let’s out a soft chuckle, a loving smile entering his face and he slowly stands up, much to my confusion, since we’re not done eating yet. He doesn’t go very far, instead, he steps closer to me, right beside my chair. “I know, love. In fact, I wanted to talk about how much I love you...” he speaks softly and before I realise what’s going on, David slowly gets down on one knee, taking a small box out of his pocket.

“I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember, (Y/N). I know a lot of people would think that the stage of being in love would’ve died down by now, but it hasn’t, not for me. Every mornin I wake up and the first thing on my mind is you. Every night I go to bed and the last thing I think about is you. You make me the happiest bloke on this planet and when I saw that guy talkin to you earlier today, I knew for sure that I had to make you mine forever, so that no one else would ever try to steal you away. And if they do, they’ll be in trouble, that’s for sure.” David adds with a soft chuckle as he opens the box and I gasp softly, one of my hands coming up to cover my mouth.

For the second time today, I’m on the verge of tears, but the situations could not be more different. “Dave,” I whisper, but he shakes his head, mouthing ‘I’m not finished.’

“So please, (Y/N) (L/N), make me an even happier bloke and do me the honour of becomin my wife. (Y/N), will you marry-”

Before David can even finish his sentence, a loud “Yes!” leaves my mouth, tears of happiness rolling down my cheeks and I throw my arms around Dave’s neck, pressing my lips against his in a passionate kiss. After pulling away, I keep repeating my answer, David and I both chuckling and emotional.

“Gimme your hand.” David says softly and takes the ring out of the box. I hold my hand out for him and he slides the ring smoothly onto my ring finger. My lip quivers as I try to stop the crying and I look from the ring on my finger back up to David, into his eyes.

We just gaze into each other’s eyes for what feels like forever, until I stand up and take David’s hand in mine, pulling him up with me and taking him to the couch. We both sit down and I curl up against him, my head resting in the crook of his neck as he wraps his arms around my body. “So that’s what you’ve been up to this afternoon, then? Why it took so long.”

“You’ve got me, love.” David laughs softly and presses a long kiss on my head. “And I’ve got you,” he continues sweetly, “I’ve always got you.”

[blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms]

Sandwich- Cliff Steele

Pairing: Cliff Steele x Reader (Platonic)

Characters: Cliff Steele

Warnings: N/A

Request: N/A

Word Count: 406

Author: Aaron

Even though he could feel no pain and his metal joints could not ache, Cliff grunted heavily as he lowered himself down and onto his seat, his neon eyes could not help but look oddly sad as he watched you eat your lunch.

“You miss eating?” You asked as the last of your tuna sandwich made its way down your throat.

“It’s definitely up there for things I regret taking advantage of when I was… normal. It’s kind of surprising the number of things you miss when you get turned into a brain surrounded by a tin can.” You moved your plate from your lap and brushed the soft crumbs from your shirt and onto the floor. “But still though, it’s nice to be able to crush stuff I guess.” His attempt at humour failed to cheer himself up and didn’t really hit right with you. “It could be worse; I could be dead.”

“Nobody here asked for what happened to them. Vic never asked to lose half of his body in an explosion, Rita never asked to be turned into an elastic blob and Jane… you don’t even want to know.”

“I get it, I’m not the only person bad things have happened to. What’s your point?” The sofa creaked underneath the weight of his brassy chassis as he turned to face you.

“If you would let me finish. My point is this is obviously not the normal for you. You just woke up one day as the tin man, in a strange house and surrounded by people you don’t know. But we all adjusted, and you will too.”

“You can pass, Jane can pass, everybody but Larry can just stroll down into town and nobody would even bat an eye. I can’t just put my hood up and hope nothing goes wrong, I’m heavier than most cars and can’t walk without looking like I’ve had an accident. I’m never going to adjust to the fact that the only real part of me that I have left is my brain.”

“You’re still Cliff though, right?” The hardwood floor struggled under him as he slowly crept from the seat. “Just because you don’t look how you did before, doesn’t mean you aren’t the same person. You still have the same memories, feelings, hopes, dreams.”

“I think chief would have been better off if he took a rat and put it’s brain up there instead of mine.”

[jafndaegur]

Good Company, Good Tea, Good Work

Jumin x MC

a/n : writing this fic was a bit of a self-reflection. In high school this was a very self-detrimental habit I had... and even now I still deall with its repercussions...and I wondered how Jumin would have reacted to it. Remember to eat your meals lovelies. Even if it's just a little something. You owe yourself that much

~*.•○°○•.♡.•○°○•.♡.•○°○•.♡.•○°○•.*~

Jumin's fingers drummed along the surface of his desk as he stared out the window at the snowflakes drifting from the sky.

Clouds hung in heavy frigid puffs while the atmosphere lay stagnant, grey and lifeless. The teacher droned on about chemical reactions, and the differences between hypo and hyper. Honestly, had these Americans not learned this in the tail end of their junior high? Apparently not.

Normally he was good about scribbling his notes, despite his distaste for lectures.

Why his father had him to his school's sister branch in America was beyond him. Other than it was just shy of sending him to boarding school at least. It was still miserable none the less. The students, despite this being a prestigious private school, were idle. Few worked hard in their studies. Even fewer worked with success for their efforts. It made the due diligence in his assignments over-praised, not that he complained, but it provided him with unfair issues. Such as a monopoly over the teachers' favor and a monopoly over the grading system. Screw any curves or adjusted grades, Jumin attempted and achieved nothing less than perfection. Those who could not keep up simply needed to amend their shortcomings and strive higher.

This mentality made his company among his peers, however, particularly undesirable.

He huffed when the chemistry teacher announced a partner-project for the next week. No doubt this would lead to him working solo. Or doing all the work and ratting out his fellow group member. Either or was likely.

"I will be assigning partners," the teacher continued. "Be sure that the both of you split the work load evenly."

Jumin restrained the urge to role his eyes and exhale with exasperation. As if his week couldn't get worse.

The teacher slowly went down the roster, seemingly picking names at random.

"Jumin and MC."

He wanted to drown in his own sense of self-preservation before stealing a quick glance to his partner. MC was a shy girl who hid herself behind wide wire glasses frames and a low cut fringe of auburn bangs. Her hair was kept long although she seemed to seldom brush it. Uniform was always baggy and her posture hunched and curled in as if she were afraid. He didn't understand her. However, unlike the others, she never backtalked him or gossiped about him. In fact she never even made eye contact with him.

Her negligence was mildly refreshing.

Except now. Even once the teacher called their names, MC never glanced his way. Just kept her head down and wrote in her notebook.

How rude.

Jumin stood in front of her desk during their lunch break, waiting for her to acknowledge him. When she didn't, he cleared his throat. That at least warranted a flick of her gaze to him.

"We will begin to work promptly on our assignment. The sooner we finish, the sooner you and I may terminate our partnership. Is this fair?"

She nodded.

"I expect you to meet me promptly at three thirty-five in the library. We will start our research and outline today."

Again she nodded and returned her focus to her notepad.

Lip twitching down, Jumin stalked out of the room to go find lunch.

When Jumin arrived at the library, he was surprised to see MC already hunched over a book. A bright emerald thermos sat on her right while her hand tapped her pencil on the left. Instead of her normal expression of shy cringe, her brow was furrowed and her eyes narrowed in intense concentration. She twisted and worried her bottom lip between her teeth.

For some reason, Jumin noted with almost endearment the strange shift of personality.

"What have you found?" He asked, scooting into the seat across from her.

"Nothing useful yet," she murmured, not indulging in anything further.

"Well let me know when you do. I'll work on the project's outline." He tried not to scoff, really he did.

MC shrunk in on herself a little more.

About an hour and a half into their session of brief and curt session, and amidst rising agitation, Jumin paused when he caught scent of a gentle flora.

The smell wafted toward him through a soft fragrance and it surprised him at the realization that it came from the the contents of the thermos. MC poured out a cup full of the canister's contents, after doing so giving a small hesitant sip.

"Is that tea?" Jumin asked softly, a small pang of homesickness itching under his skin. A long time back, his mother...before his father divorced her...used to make all sorts of tea for them.  Surely the simple smell of herbs steeped in hot water would not move him. And yet the scent of MC's beverage was simultaneously so familiar yet so alien, he felt his heart squeeze almost painfully.

She never answered him, but instead, offered the cup to him.

He gingerly took the small container in his hands. The liquid was a pale orange, and the silver bottom of the cup was still plainly visible. Yet the steam lilted with a sweet and mild perfume that made his shoulders relax a little.

"The smell is pleasant."

MC snorted. She actually snorted.

"Sweet, not pleasant," MC said, resting her head on her palm. "My mom is a florist. She had some left over edible flowers, so I brewed them with orange peel and came out with this."

"You like to make tea?"

"It's a hobby," MC said before leaning back in her chair and picking up her pencil again. "It keeps me occupied."

Jumin opened his mouth to reply, but she'd already gone back to working through her book sources, posture telling him she was no longer in the mood to talk. He sipped on the tea before returning to the outline.

He didn't give the cup back until their session was over, and told her that they would meet again tomorrow during lunch.

He brought with him a gourmet ham sandwich and a can of coffee. MC was waiting for him in the library again, her green thermos and two cups this time at her side. At her feet was her backpack and a small lunch bag.

He sat down and stared at the cups.

"I made ginger and apple tea..." she drawled while scribbling away in her notebook. "I wasn't sure if you'd want to try it..."

For the first time in a long time, Jumin smiled and gave a hum of approval...

Together they decided that apple and ginger was not her best mixture.

Still, he worked just a little slower, eager to see what she would bring tomorrow. When they packed up for the afternoon before the last half of their classes, Jumin realized that even though he had eased his work pace just a little, MC had worked as efficiently as before. He felt both proud and a little disgruntled by that. He wondered if she disliked their time together. Maybe she was tired of sharing her drink with him. That was probably all she had to go with her lunch...

Lunch!

He stared down at her seat to realize she'd left behind her lunch bag. Eager to see her again and return her item, he was surprised at how light the decorated bag was. Curiosity nagged at him, and chewing the inside of his cheek, Jumin narrowed his gaze as he stared inside.

Nothing. Not even a snack.

He knew with almost one hundred percent certainty that she had not eaten during their session together.

They worked after school together on the third day. That was when he noticed it. As she poured out a cup of blackberry and vanilla for him, her hands shook. Jumin accepted the tea with a hushed thank you, and spent their entire study time observing her. MC's fingers shook while she wrote her notes for their paper. She winced every so often, bracing her head with her hand as if nursing a headache.

She hardly touched her tea.

Jumin excused himself and made his way to the first floor where the vending machines were. He searched through his pocket for his wallet and easily accessed his card.

Frowning, he wondered if she would find this offensive. In the end he decided, he didn't care. No good reason could spur something like this, and while he didn't expect to change things - he at least hoped he could help.

So he bought two things: a bag of plain animal crackers for her and a tuna on-the-go kit for himself. Start small and work up, he told himself. When returned, he said nothing as he placed the animal crackers beside MC's thermos. He said nothing as she watched him with eyes wide and a pained expression. Instead he took a sip of the tea she had poured for him and then went back to work. He could feel her gaze burning holes into the top of his head as he leaned down to write.

Until the last possible day to work together, he brought her something from home. The finest minature apples. A bag of dates.

On the day before their project was due, her voice cracked and she glared at him. "Why do you keep bringing me food?"

"A simple thanks would suffice." Jumin raised his brow.

MC gritted out, "I didn't ask you to."

"You didn't have to."

"I did."

She stared blankly at him, her lips pursed. "Why? It's not like I should be eating."

Leaning over the desk, Jumin poured the tea into their silently claimed cups. "Good company, good tea, good work - "

MC tilted her head, bangs fluttering and nose scrunching as her lip began to wobble. He couldn't tell if she was angry or sad.

Still, he placed the cup in front of her and a plum. "What better way to celebrate than to enjoy a meal together?"

MC stared at him and then back at his offering. He scooted their assignment to the side and gently took her hand in his, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. She never said anything, and averted her gaze, but Jumin smiled with relief when she reached with her free hand for the plum.

[jennaalexandra]

When you blame the food, you lose all your power

im about a week into hopping back on the intuitive eating bandwagon.

i already feel lighter, more energized, motivated, purposeful, and intentional with what I put into my body.

i worry that this is just a phase & that eventualky I'll go back to feeling out of control again... which leads to food obsessive thoughts, overeating, bloating, and feeling sick!!

but then, I begin to notice Old ways begin to creep back in. Here it goes, I thought.

but this time I applied the lessons learned from I tutive eating and an awesome life coach that helped me navigate out of those old ways and habits.

I noticed three things that happened today that normally would have triggered impulse food buys and overeating:

1. I was starving so I wanted to get a tuna sandwich at the coop. I havent had one in forever and they usually are a treat to me Even though the past couple of times didn't satisfy me. so here's what I did instead:

• gave myself permission to buy the sandwhivh eeven though last time it didn't taste good. I reminded myself that I have lots of food leftover and that perhaps I'm just feeling anxious. What if I honored my body and savings by making myself a delicious meal at home? I can always come back another day when I have less groceries. It will always be here (precenting scarcity)

2. I was Tempted to buy PB cereal bc it was on sale and I havent had it in a while. It tastes so good.

• I gave myself permission to buy it but reminded myself of how it made me feel in the past. Part of intuitive eating is respecting your body and how it feels after you eat. and, did it ever truly ever satisfy me? Not really!!! I reminded myself of the other options I have at home; i can always go back to get the cereal

3. BIG ONE. I ate a decadent dinner of quesadilland was proud that I stopped when I did. I noticed quite a few things here!!! 1. I at first wanted to keep going but I told myself I can, but how would giving my body some time before feeding more so I can let My anxiety calm down a little. I get anxious before a meal ends because it makes me sad, eso when it's yummy!!!i seriously waited 2 minutes and by min 2, I felt pretty full and actually the thought of eating more kinda grossed me out. ALSO! afterwards I wanted a new taste in my mouth and dessert. I had a couple pieces of chocolate and told myself this Is to clear my palette. If you want more later, you can! I was still feeling anxious for dessert. Sink pooped in two frozen cookies knowing I didn't completely over do dinner and prob wouldn't feel sick from a cookie This heinous my body. I reminded myself if after the cookie is ready I'm still to full, I can save it. A HUGE lesson my coach has taught me is to ASK WHAT I AM NEEDING BY LISTENING TO FEEDBACK.

**so I'm anxiouS... let's focus on that and not the food. Let's address the anxiety and not the food, let's curb the anxiety and not my cravings!!!

> what helps reduce my anxiety? (PUZZLES! Talking to friends, today, stretch. If I reduce my anxiety, I can feel my food and all my body and pleasure sensations! For when i eat dessert. I can also make decisions with a neural mindset!!! vs scarcity anxious mindedet which will normally lead to over eating

SO THE MAIN TAKE AWAY. it's not the food you're dealing with. It's the anxiety!! My gf teased me and said, "are you puzzling so you don't eat" I responded," no I'm doing the puzzle to calm my anxiety." why are you anxious? She asked. "Because I want dessert or some sort of unmet need met." "she laughed,

the thing here, is it's not the food! It's the anxiety!! Food is a coping mechanism for the anxiety. You keep using food it turns to habit. You stop using food and other tools and those become your new habit! Hopefully more aligned with self care and your goals!!!

ps. I still enjoyed the cookie, I still felt anxious before it was over. I thanked the anxiety. You're feeling anxious because with we're given a gift of something delicious!!! It's sad when it's over but im grateful I was given it in the first place. I'm glad I can enjoy this without overdoing or (tbc).

I'm glad I can enou this without over doing it or making myself sick. being Sad is good because it means I have something to be sad about. I experienced such a pleasurabke joy!!! I am proud I made such a yummy cookie, or when traveling or visiting a. New restaurant I'm sad to stop indulging but grateful to be able to experience it!!! And remember, you are addressing the anxiety, not the food! Addressing food girdles away your power and gives it to food. And it’s got the truth. Your addressing your anxiety and that you do have control over!! Food does not control you!!!!