#i think its on 1 to 3 and Alright Alright???

[itzsana-kiddingmenow]

300 𝙛𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡: 𝙙𝙖𝙮 1 — 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙚

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨: 3.5k (phew its been a while since i wrote something this long)

𝙖/𝙣: OMG I FINALLY GET TO POST THIS!! yall i needed a minsung okayyyy i dont ship them IRL but i NEEDED this plot. also as of now, tickletober is put on hold until im able to finish it all and post it all at the same time :3

𝙩/𝙬: ROMANTIC PLOT, read at your own risk! rougher tickles but it remains soft between them, use of gentle restraint, teasing, and mentions of romantic moments

𝒍𝒆𝒆: spiderman! jisung

𝙡𝙚𝙧: minho

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @someone-who-loves-kpop-saranghae @jeonginsdiary @leeknowstan33 @v--143 @wereallgonnadieonedaybutnottoday @inkytornpagess @lajanaa @a-wild-seungberry @channieissocute125 @soap143 @seungsluvv @skznccmlee @moony-9 @sunny-117 @minnielvrr

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞? 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐛s🖤

Minho had always been the type to go unnoticed, despite his strikingly pretty face. 

His quiet demeanor and cold attitude kept people at a distance, which suited him just fine. 

While others in his class buzzed with the excitement of high school friendships and crushes, Minho remained detached, his heart only warmed by small, random moments.

Then there was Jisung.

Minho first noticed him during chemistry class, a boy with messy hair and a habit of biting his lip when nervous. 

The thing was, Jisung was always nervous around Minho. He would blush furiously whenever they were partnered up, stutter when asking him something, and occasionally knock over a beaker or two in his fluster.

Minho found it…oddly adorable. Not that he’d admit it, but he’d grown a little fond of watching the way Jisung’s face turned bright pink whenever they were close.

But that day, Minho wasn’t thinking of Jisung or himself. He was just walking, thinking, in the middle of the night. 

Until he heard a crash, and three huge, buff dudes decided to approach him, backing him against the wall. 

“Where’s your money?” One asked harshly, and fear gripped Minho as he felt his back hit the wall. He was a student—he couldn’t lose his money. 

Before he could react, the guy grabbed at him, reaching for his bag, but just as panic set in, something—someone—appeared out of nowhere, swooping down in a blur of red and dark blue.

“Whoa, easy there! Hands off the pretty boy, yeah?” A teasing voice called, followed by the unmistakable thwip of web shooters. Within seconds, the robber was stuck to the nearby alley wall, struggling but securely bound in webs.

Minho stood there, wide-eyed and slightly dazed, his heart still hammering in his chest. His savior landed gracefully in front of him, offering an exaggerated bow. "No need to thank me. All in a day's work, saving helpless civilians."

Minho blinked, taking in the familiar red and blue costume. “You’re…Spiderman….”

“Yep, that’s me.” Spiderman said, straightening up with a cocky grin hidden behind his mask. “You alright?”

Minho stared in disbelief. “I’m fine.” He mumbled, his usual cool facade barely intact after the sudden encounter.

“Well, good. You should be more careful, walking around here alone. Cute guys like you attract all kinds of trouble.” There was a teasing lilt to Spiderman’s voice that made Minho bristle slightly. 

“Maybe next time we can hang out when you’re not about to get mugged.” Spiderman tilted his head playfully. “Got a number?”

Minho paused, his usual reservations kicking in, but something about the situation—the thrill of being saved, the strange charm of Spiderman—made him relent. “Fine. Give me your phone.”

Spiderman handed it over, and Minho quickly punched in his number before handing it back.

“Nice. I’ll be sure to text you if I save you again~” Spiderman teased.

“Don’t get cocky,” Minho muttered, watching as Spiderman grinned behind his mask and disappeared into the night.

Minho recounted everything that had just occurred with a disbelieving laugh. Did I just befriend Spiderman? And why is he shorter than me? 

Returning to his college the next day, Minho sincerely hoped Jisung had made progress on the chemistry project. He knew he was pretty pre-occupied last night. 

He walked up and sat next to the boy, watching his chubby cheeks turn pink as they always did, just as Han wished him a good morning, biting his lower lip and holding out his lab book sweetly; He had done half of the experiment already. 

Minho smiled gently down at him, taking the book from Sung’s shaky hands and reading through the data, all handwritten in Jisung’s neat scrawl. 

“Wow, good job, Jisung! I can’t believe you managed to do all of this in a day.” Min grinned at the smaller boy, who smiled a crinkly, adorable smile that made Minho oddly want to grab his face and kiss him senseless. 

“T-Thank you…” Jisung smiled shyly, ears turning the same shade of pink as his cheeks. God, he’s so endearing. 

After working hard on the project and suffering through every experiment part, Minho was finally done. 

“Good job, Hannie.” He knew he had to be gentle with Jisung; Just cause he wasn’t  popular doesn’t mean the sweet, nerdy, extremely smart Sungie wasn’t shy. 

“Thank you.” Jisung smiled shyly again. 

Minho got home to the dorms, pulling his phone out just to see a message: 

Spidey: Meet me on the roof in 5 >:)

God, not the roof. Minho had a horrible fear of heights. He knew Spiderman didn’t know that, though. 

Reaching for the doorknob, Minho braced himself as he stepped out, just to look down and feel fear immediately spike through his system. 

The ground below felt impossibly far away, the edge of the roof suddenly far too close. Minho froze, fingers tightening on the doorknob. 

His heart pounded in his chest, breath quickening as a wave of dizziness hit him. His knees gave out slightly, and before he realized it, he was practically crumpled at the door, clinging to the knob like a lifeline. Holy shit holy shit holy shit—

“Minho?” 

Spidey’s voice was soft, a teasing lilt barely audible over the sound of Minho’s ragged breathing. Minho squeezed his eyes shut, his knuckles white as he gripped the door behind him.

“I—I don’t think I can move…” He admitted in a shaky whisper, his breaths coming too fast now, shallow and desperate.

“Hey, I’m sorry…I didn’t know you were scared.” Spiderman’s voice was gentle, and Minho could feel a warm, gloved hand cover his. 

“I won’t let you fall, I promise.”

Minho’s breath hitched, but the warmth of Spidey’s hands steadied him. He forced his eyes open, meeting the masked gaze of the here as he pulled him upright, keeping a strong arm around his waist.

“Look at me—” Spidey said, his voice close now, almost soothing as it cut through Minho’s rising panic. “Even if you fall, I’ll catch you. You’re safe. I’ve got you, okay?”

Slowly, Minho nodded, clutching Spidey’s arm as they approached the ledge. When they finally stopped, Minho dared to glance down and saw the view before him—the city lights glittering like stars, stretching far into the distance. 

The sight was stunning, but his legs still felt weak, the ground far below pulling at him with an unsettling gravity.

But he knew that Spidey wouldn’t let him fall. Speaking of Spiderman, he was rambling animatedly to Minho. “See? Isn’t it so pretty?” 

Minho took another breath, steadying himself as his eyes roamed the view. Now that the panic was fading, he had to admit, it was pretty. The city spread out like a glittering web, each light flickering like tiny stars in the dark. He exhaled softly. 

“Yeah… it’s nice.”

“I—Oh…I-I’m sorry!!” Jisung gasped, knocking over a test tube as he dumped his books on the table with a tiny whimper and took a seat next to Minho. He was late, Min noticed. 

And he was wearing a long sleeved tee…it was really hot outside. Minho’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he didn’t say anything. 

Then, while Jisung was writing in his lab book, Min noticed a deep cut on his wrist, the skin red and bruised, and he wanted to ask what had happened, but the bell rang and Sungie seemed very intent on getting out of Min’s way. 

Minho met up with Spidey on the roof, giggling and laughing at funny stories and smiling as Spiderman continued his random antics. 

Minho found himself enjoying every moment, every minuscule thing he did with the red and blue decked superhero. It took all his worries away, and he knew that not much could do that. 

Spidey stopped rambling and winced, holding his wrist. 

“What’s wrong?” Minho asked gently, and the hero shook his head. “I got cut today morning, I was fighting a villain. It hurts, but I guess it’ll be okay.”  

Minho noticed the placement of the cut seemed very…familiar? Like he’d already seen it that day, and he racked his mind for any clue as to why an ice-cold realization was one thought away from occurring. 

Minho’s mind slowly began to create some connections between Jisung and Spiderman. It was probably his brain making stuff up…but he found the two really similar. 

They were both the same height, and he could tell Spidey’s cheeks were just as soft. He knew he would’ve thought that Jisung was Spiderman way earlier…If it weren’t for some differing factors. 

For example, Jisung gets shy almost immediately. He’s barely able to even hold a conversation with Minho, becoming flustered so quickly. 

And his clumsiness. 

Minho, noticing that Spidey and Sungie seemed to have the same cut in the same placement, but he had previously attributed Jisung’s little accident to his clumsiness. 

Jisung tripped often, often over his own feet, and his hands were naturally shaky and even his adorably thin, gold-framed glasses couldn’t save himself from his own tripping and falling. 

Minho thought for a little while longer, and for some reason, although everything fit, he was just unable to believe that the shy, cute,  blushing boy from his chemistry class was a web-shooting superhero. 

But it all clicked. 

The next day, Jisung stumbled into the class, hair tousled, late as normal, and he seemed to notice Minho staring holes into his head. “D-Do you need something, hyung?” He set his things down beside Minho. 

Minho shook his head, remaining silent. The teasing, confident spider he had been meeting on the roof was really shy, clumsy, sweet Jisung from chemistry. Minho almost couldn’t believe it. 

The second class was over, Minho was grabbing Jisung’s wrist, forcing him into the janitor’s closet and almost laughing at the flustered squeak he earned in response. 

“Hyung…what—” Jisung’s voice wobbled, his wide eyes darting around the tiny space as he blinked in confusion.

Minho pressed a finger to Jisung’s lips, grinning down at him. “You didn’t think you’d get away that easily, did you, Spiderman?”

Jisung froze, his face paling before turning a shade of red that rivaled his suit. “W-What—?!” Adorable. 

“Oh, don’t play dumb,” Minho teased, his voice low as he leaned in closer. “I know who you are now. Spiderman~” he whispered the name with a teasing lilt, watching as Jisung squirmed, trying to hide his flushed face behind his hands.

Sungie looked like he wanted to say more, his mouth opening and closing in shock and fear. “H-How?!” 

“Your wrist? You have a cut, Sung.” Minho deadpanned, and he startled at the sight of tears gathering in Jisung’s lashline. 

“Minho—Hyung…you can’t tell anyone! Okay?!” Jisung seemed stressed, his eyes widening as he made his point clear. 

“Sungie…of course I won’t. You don’t have to worry.” Minho smiled gently, cupping Jisung’s cheeks and waiting for the poor boy to calm down. 

“I-I didn’t think you’d find out…I tried to hide the cut, but I guess it didn’t work…” Hannie muttered, and Minho grinned. “You’re so confident and strong in your suit, but you’re so shy and clumsy here, Peter Han.” 

Jisung groaned, his entire face turning an even deeper shade of red as he covered his face again. “Oh my god...”

Minho chuckled softly, stepping closer until he was practically towering over the shorter boy. “You’re so tiny. And so cute~” he teased, poking Jisung lightly in the side.

Jisung whined as Minho leaned in, face inches away. “I bet you’re so cute blushing…so adorable~” 

“Hyung!” Jisung squealed. 

Jisung stumbled out of the storage closet, almost dropping half of his books, face bright red and lips swollen, Minho following with a grin, half of his lip tint wiped clean off. 

“Bye, Sungie!~” Minho laughed, smiling fondly as Jisung raced down the hallway with a blushing squeak, his face bright red and his cheeks looking even chubbier than usual. 

Minho waited at the roof, smiling as a certain red and blue superhero flipped and landed gracefully, squeaking as Minho pinned him against the wall immediately, yanking his mask off of his head. 

Min smiled fondly at the sight of Sungie’s messy hair and his adrenaline-flushed cheeks. 

Jisung, clearly caught off guard, took a step back—only to stumble over his own feet. He yelped, nearly losing his balance. But before he could fall, Minho’s hands shot out, grabbing him by the waist and pulling him back upright.

“Careful, Spidey~” Minho teased, his grip firm and steady around Jisung’s waist. He grinned as Jisung squirmed in his arms, clearly embarrassed. “Can’t have my hero tripping over himself now, can I?” He pulled them so Jisung’s chest was flush against his. 

Without warning, Minho pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. 

“Wha—No! Minho!” Jisung groaned in mortification, hands flying to cover his face as Minho burst into laughter. “You’re the worst!” 

“And you’re cute,” Minho shot back, still grinning. He took a step closer, gently tapping Jisung’s chin to get him to look up. 

“Stopp…I’m not cute—!” 

“Are you kidding me?” Minho cut him off, tilting Jisung’s head slightly as he inspected him, his tone turning soft but serious. “You’re literally the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Your face is adorable.”

Jisung opened his mouth to protest, but Minho wasn’t done. “You’ve got this tiny mole right here.” Minho pointed out, tapping the small mole on Jisung’s cheek. “I’ve wanted to kiss it since the first time I saw you.”

Jisung squeaked at that, his eyes widening in disbelief. “W-What?!”

“And your hair.” Minho continued, running his fingers through Jisung’s tousled locks. “It’s always a mess, but it’s so soft. You look like a tiny baby bird.”

Jisung let out an embarrassed whimper, trying and failing to hide his face as Minho kept hold of him, the teasing grin never leaving his lips. “Minho, s-stop…”

“And don’t even get me started on your body…” Minho said, pulling back just enough to look at Jisung’s small, slender frame. “You’re so tiny. How is someone this tiny supposed to be Spiderman?”

Jisungie groaned and hid his face against Min’s chest with a flustered whine, and Minho had an idea to cause some extra mischief. 

For a moment, neither of them spoke, content to just be in each other’s arms. The night air was cool, but Minho felt nothing but warmth with Jisung in his arms, the quiet moment feeling far more intimate than all the teasing that had come before.

Minho prodded Jisung’s side once. And just like that, the intimate energy was gone. 

“S-Stohop!!” Hannie smacked his hand away, but the tickle monster within Minho had woken up, and he was hungry. 

With a playful smirk, Minho snatched Jisung’s web shooter, and playfully stuck his wrists above his head with a speed Jisung’s couldn’t even comprehend, pressing them agaisnt the wall, causing Jisung to gasp in surprise. 

"You really think I’m gonna stop now, Sungie?" Minho asked, his voice dripping with amusement as placed Jisung’s web shooter back, and Jisung was trapped there, completely at his mercy. 

Minho stepped closer, leaning in so their faces were inches apart. Jisung held his breath, anticipation swirling in his stomach. But instead of a kiss, Minho’s fingers wiggled mischievously as they found their way to Jisung’s sides.

“Minho, don’t you dare—” Jisung began, but before he could finish, Minho’s fingers descended, spidering along Jisung’s sides with a devilish precision. Poor Sungie’s body jolted at the touch, a squeal escaping his lips as he arched his back, legs kicking out frantically behind Minho’s back.

“NONONO—Hyuhuhuhung nohohohoho!! THAHAHAT TIHIHICKLES!!” Sungie shrieked, eyes slitting as his heart-shaped smile appeared, stretching his chubby, pink cheeks. 

Jisung could feel his spider-sense going absolutely wild in his head, his body jolting at every touch as his spider suit allowed Minho access to every spot and detail along his skin uninterrupted. 

It drove Sungie mad, unable to squirm away due to the strength of his own webs as Minhi moved to his ribs next, grabbing his rib-cage with his hands and kneading in mercilessly. 

“PLEHEHEHEHEASEE!!” Jisung tried to squirm, tried to wiggle free, but Minho had him firmly pinned, his legs helplessly flailing as his laughter grew louder, sweeter, more frantic. 

His cheeks flushed a deep pink, his blonde hair sticking to his forehead as he gasped for air between giggles. “WAHAHAHAIT!! Wahahahait wait a sehehehecond—!!”

“Oh, wait? I don’t think so~” Minho cooed, his fingers suddenly pinching at Jisung’s sides, moving up to the tender area just beneath his ribs. “I’ve got you tied up all cute like this, baby. No running now.”

Sungie squealed, his spider-sense telling him to squirm to the right, then the left, and then the right again, but neither way provided any relief for poor, ticklish Sung. It certainly wasn’t helping that his sense was heightened and made everything that much more ticklish. 

“Look at you, Sungie~” Minho purred, leaning in closer, fingers now dancing across Jisung’s lower side belly, a spot that always made him lose control. 

“So squirmy… so helpless. You love this, don’t you?” Minho’s teasing voice made Jisung blush even harder, his mind whirling as he tried to keep up with the relentless tickling.

“NOHOHOHO!! Nahahahha dohohohon’t!!” Jisung laughed, eyes crinkling in joy just as Minho had an idea.

Moving his fingers to the web design on Sungie’s suit, he traced along the pattern all the way along his chest and sides, pulling the sweeter, frantic giggles as Jisung thrashed side to side to escape the ticklish sensation. 

Jisung threw his head back, a wide, helpless grin taking over his face as he squealed loudly, his laughter filling the silence in the area. “I CAHAHAHAN’T!! YOUHUHURE SO MEHEHEHEAN!!”

Minho only grinned wider, his heart practically bursting with affection as he watched his Sungie fall apart under his fingers. “Going crazy, huh? But I haven’t even gotten to the good spots yet~” Minho teased, his fingers suddenly moving higher, targeting Jisung’s underarms and causing him to shriek in surprise.

“IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES TOO MUHUHUCH!! Plehehehease leehhehet gohohoho!!” Jisung’s voice was tinged with frustration as Minho had him exactly where he wanted him, helpless to his tickling hands. 

Minho kept his fingers exactly where they were, curling around his underarms, moving to a sensitive spot right underneath, opening and closing his fingers in that same, maddening motion that had poor Hannie squealing out, kicking as Minho laughed along with him. 

“MIHIHINHOOOO!! AHAHASTOHOHOHAHAHA!!” Jisung screamed, frustration lacing through his movements as he struggles as hard as he could before giving in, limp against the wall as Minho’s tickling fingers continued to dance along his ticklish skin. 

After what felt like eternity, Minho finally ripped off the web, smiling as Jisung stumbled, his senses fried to the tickling. 

Minho slowed to let Jisung catch his breath, smiling as Sungie melted into his waiting arms, head pressed into his shoulder and wet cheek squished against his neck.  

He gently wrapped his arms around Jisung, his hands circling Han’s tiny waist. 

“You’re so mehehean…” Jisung whined, and Minho laughed gently. “Stay over tonight, baby.”

Minho stirred in the early morning light, soft rain tapping gently against the windowpane, the rhythmic sound lulling him further into a peaceful daze. 

The world outside was wrapped in the gray softness of a rainy day, clouds casting a gentle, cool glow through the bedroom. Minho blinked slowly, his eyes adjusting to the dim light, and as he turned his head, his breath hitched at the sight next to him.

Jisung was fast asleep, curled up against Minho’s side, his soft, steady breaths the only sound in the quiet room. His delicate features were utterly peaceful, lips slightly parted in a tiny, innocent pout as he snuggled closer in his sleep. He looked so small, so fragile, and yet so perfectly content.

Minho's eyes drifted to the shirt Jisung was wearing—his shirt. It was far too big for him, swallowing his tiny frame, with the sleeves hanging loosely past his fingertips. Below, Jisung was wearing shorts that barely peeked out from under the hem of the oversized shirt, making him look even tinier, as if he had tried to hide in Minho’s clothes.

Minho couldn’t help but smile at the sight, his heart swelling as he watched Jisung shift in his sleep. Jisung’s tiny body curled further into Minho, letting out the softest little squeak as he nuzzled his face into Minho’s chest. 

The sound was so innocent, so vulnerable, that it made Minho’s chest ache with affection.

He didn’t want to wake him, didn’t want to disturb the precious serenity of the moment. Jisung, still fast asleep, let out another soft squeak, his brows furrowing slightly as he shifted again, pressing impossibly closer into Minho’s warmth.

He tightened his arm around Jisung’s waist, careful not to wake him, but unable to resist the urge to pull him closer. As Jisung nestled further into his chest with a contented sigh, Minho knew, without a doubt, that he had fallen in love all over again.

He also knew that no matter what, when he was there, his Hannie was always home. 

[crossfandomskylines]

In the Space Between Us: Chapter 9

OTHER CHAPTERS:

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5

Chapter 6 I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 I Chapter 9

Pairing: Glen Powell x OC

Summary: Gabby and Glen arrive in Austin, where she gets her first glimpse of his Texas home that perfectly fits him. After a casual tour, they cook dinner together, but a small mishap leaves Gabby with a cut finger. Glen keeps her calm, tending to her with a gentle touch. Later, they settle on the couch to eat, sharing laughter and easy conversation, and Gabby continues to feel like she truly belongs—not just in Glen’s house, but with him.

Word Count: 6.9k

Warnings: Kitchen Knife Cut. Some blood and First Aid.

A/N: Honestly this is just more of our favorite couple being sickeningly sweet and adorable.

I'm so appreciative and grateful for all of the reblogs, comments, and hearts I've received on this story! This story is the first time I've ever written anything with the intention of posting it, and I love reading each and every reblog and comment! Please continue to let me know what you think with Hearts, Comments, and Reblogs! Also if you'd like to be tagged please let me know, and I will get you added to the tag list!

Tag List: @djs8891 @queenslandlover-93 @teacupsandtopgun @loveatfirsttornado @khouse712

As they stepped off the plane and into the bustline terminal, Glen adjusted his baseball cap and sunglasses, doing his best to remain inconspicuous. Gabby walked beside him, brushing her hair behind her ear as she glanced around at the unfamiliar surroundings.

Just as they passed through the gate area, Glen looked over at her, his lips curving into a warm smile. “Welcome to Austin, Gabby.”

She laughed softly, the sound cutting through the din of the crowded terminal. “Thanks,” she replied, matching his pace. “So... are you going to be my personal tour guide while I’m here?”

Glen smirked, the playful glint in his eyes unmistakable. “I’ll see if I can fit a tour into our very busy schedule,” he teased, his voice dripping with mock seriousness.

“Oh, is that right?” Gabby shot back with an arched brow.

“Absolutely. We’ve got important things to do,” Glen said as they approached the baggage claim. “Like introducing you to my mom and sisters. No pressure or anything.”

Her cheeks warmed, but she smiled. “No pressure at all,” she said lightly, though her tone betrayed a hint of nerves.

They waited by the carousel, the familiar hum of luggage belts filling the air. When Gabby’s bright blue suitcase finally came around, Glen stepped forward without hesitation and hefted it off the belt.

“Got it,” he said, balancing it with his carry-on bag and Brisket’s carrier.

Gabby reached out, frowning slightly. “You know, I can carry my own bag.”

Glen gave her a skeptical look as he hoisted the suitcase to test its weight. “Yeah, no. This thing weighs a ton. What’d you pack, bricks?”

“Funny,” she deadpanned, crossing her arms. “Seriously, though, I’ve got it. You’re already carrying enough.” She added as she motioned towards Glen who had Brisket’s carrier and his own carry on bag on his shoulders in addition to now trying to pull her suitcase behind him.

But Glen just shook his head, determined. “Not happening.”

Gabby huffed and then gestured toward his full hands. “Okay, but you’re going to drop something at this rate. Come on, just let me help.”

Pausing mid-step, Glen gave her a considering look, then grinned mischievously. “Alright. You really want to carry something?”

“Yes,” she insisted, rolling her eyes at his exaggerated tone.

Without another word, Glen handed over Brisket’s carrier. “Here you go. You get to carry the most important passenger.”

Gabby stared down at Brisket, who let out a soft, curious bark from inside the carrier. She couldn’t help but laugh as she took it from Glen. 

“You’re such a gentleman,” she teased, holding up the carrier.

“Always,” he replied with a wink before he continued toward the exit, effortlessly rolling her suitcase behind him.

Gabby followed, adjusting the carrier on her arm and shaking her head with a smile.

As they stepped out into the Texas sunshine and headed toward the parking lot, Gabby couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. This trip was about to bring her even closer to Glen’s life, and she wasn’t sure what to expect—but with him by her side, she was ready to take it on.

As they drove out of the airport and into the heart of Austin, Gabby stared out the window, taking in the lively energy of the city. The streets were buzzing with people strolling between colorful shops, food trucks parked along the sidewalks, and music drifting out of open doors. It was a stark contrast to the sprawling chaos and noise of Los Angeles or the familiarity of her old life in Kansas City.

“First impressions?” Glen asked, glancing at her as he navigated the streets with practiced ease.

“It’s charming,” she said with a smile, her gaze catching on a couple of musicians strumming guitars on a street corner. “Lively, but in a different way than L.A.”

Glen nodded, his hands resting casually on the wheel. “It’s got its own vibe, that’s for sure. Just wait until you see the hill country outside the city. That’s my favorite part.”

Gabby looked at him, noticing how the tension he seemed to carry in Los Angeles had already started to dissolve. His shoulders weren’t quite so stiff, and even his voice seemed lighter.

“You’re different here,” she said softly, almost to herself.

He shot her a quick look, one brow raised. “Different how?”

She smiled, shrugging. “I don’t know… more relaxed, I guess. You’re not even home yet technically, but you seem... lighter.”

He chuckled at that, a low, warm sound that filled the car. “Yeah, well, I guess this place does that to me. It’s where I grew up, where my roots are. There’s just something about being back here that makes everything else feel... simpler.”

As the downtown skyline began to fade into the distance, replaced by quiet neighborhoods and stretches of open space, Gabby could see what he meant. The roads became less crowded, lined with towering oak trees and wildflowers dotting the ditches.

“You ever miss it?” she asked, her voice curious. “Living here full-time, I mean.”

“Sometimes,” he admitted, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. “L.A. has its perks, don’t get me wrong. And it makes sense for me to be there for work. That’s why I still have my place out there. But this…” He gestured out the window toward the rolling hills that were starting to peek through the horizon. “This is home. It’s where I can just be me, you know? No cameras, no noise, no chaos. Just Glen.”

Gabby’s heart softened at his words, and she couldn’t help but smile. “I like just Glen,” she said, her voice sincere.

He glanced at her again, this time with a small, genuine smile. “Yeah? Well, he likes you too.”

The quiet intimacy of the moment settled between them as they continued their drive. Gabby couldn’t help but admire how at ease Glen seemed here, his hand resting comfortably on the gear shift, the sunlight catching the curve of his jawline.

By the time they turned onto a winding road leading out toward the countryside, the view opened up into sprawling stretches of land. Gabby leaned closer to the window, her eyes widening.

“Wow,” she breathed. “It’s beautiful out here.”

“You ain’t seen anything yet,” Glen said, his voice tinged with pride. “Wait until we get to the house.”

She turned to him, her curiosity piqued. “Alright, tour guide, you’ve got me intrigued.”

He grinned but didn’t say more, letting the Texas landscape do all the talking. The further they drove, the more Gabby found herself relaxing too, swept up in the calm that seemed to radiate from both Glen and the place he called home.

As Glen rolls up to the start of the driveway, Gabby notices the wrought iron gate looming ahead, guarding the property. Glen rolls down the window of the truck and punches in a code on the keypad. The gate opens with a soft hum, and they continue down the long gravel driveway, the crunch of tires beneath them the only sound breaking the stillness of the land.

Nestled among the towering oak trees, the home appears to rise from the earth, its pale walls glowing softly in the late afternoon sun. The roofline is low and sleek, dark metal panels contrasting with the rustic stone, giving it a subtle modern touch. A stone path leads up to the front door, flanked by neatly manicured landscaping—grasses and flowers swaying gently in the breeze. The scene is nothing like she expected, yet it feels impossibly fitting for the man she’s come to know over the past month.

“Wow,” she breathes, her eyes wide, not just at the house but the land that stretches out around it, open and expansive. “This is your house?” She asks, voice a mixture of awe and disbelief. "Like ALL of this?"

Glen smirks, a glint of pride in his eyes as he nods. "Bought it last year. Been eyeing this area for a while. When it came up for sale, it just felt right. This is where I come when I need to get away from everything.” His gaze sweeps over the land around them, an unspoken connection to the place that only he seems to understand.

He steps out of the truck and gestures toward the house. "Come on, let me give you the tour."

Gabby follows him, her boots crunching on the gravel as they make their way toward the front door. The door opens with a soft creak, and the moment she steps inside, the shift in atmosphere is immediate. The space is expansive, airy, and yet warm, with a perfect blend of rugged charm and understated modern luxury.

The living room was a warm, inviting space that struck the perfect balance between rustic charm and modern elegance. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, which framed lush green trees and a serene view of the water beyond. The walls, made of creamy stone, complemented the rich, honey-toned wood beams that ran across the vaulted ceiling, adding a natural warmth to the room.

At the center of the space was a grand fireplace, its tapered design drawing the eye upward. Above it hung an intricately woven rug in warm red and earthy tones, giving the room a personal and artistic touch. Plush seating was arranged around a low, solid coffee table—two sleek leather chairs with soft, neutral cushions, a sofa in a deep, rust-colored fabric, and a matching wooden-framed couch with cozy taupe pillows.

A woven area rug tied the seating area together, while textured throw pillows and a soft blanket added layers of comfort. On the far side of the room, a vintage console table, adorned with carefully chosen decor and a hint of greenery, completed the look.

They move to the kitchen, where the dark black cupboards and glossy marble countertops create a striking contrast against the white walls. Stainless steel appliances reflect the natural light pouring in through the windows, while exposed beams in natural oak add a rustic charm to the otherwise sleek and modern space. It’s a space for someone who appreciates both design and functionality, and Gabby can’t help but be impressed by the seamless integration of the two.

Glen leads her down a hallway towards the bedroom. He points out the guest room on the right. It’s a quet and serene room with beige walls and carpeted floors. The bed has a white comforter and some green throw pillows that add a touch of color but still look cozy and inviting.

“You’re welcome to stay in here if you don’t feel comfortable staying in my room.” He says softly, his voice a little softer now. She can tell he’s hoping she stays with him in his room, but doesn’t want to push or pressure her.

Gabby smiles softly, touched by his thoughtfulness. “It looks cozy in here,” she says, stepping inside to take in the space a little more. It feels welcoming, just like the rest of the house.

Next, they continue down the hallway. Glen points out the main bathroom and then opens the door to the left. He leads her into the master bedroom, and Gabby immediately stops in her tracks. It wasn’t at all what she expected. Which in hindsight, she wasn’t sure quite what she expected from a 35 year old bachelor. But it wasn’t this.

The room was both strikingly modern and somehow also seemed almost personal, a reflection of a man with layered tastes. The walls were painted a deep charcoal gray, creating a cozy yet bold atmosphere that drew her in. The centerpiece of the room was a king-sized bed with a headboard made of reclaimed wood, its warm tones breaking up the darkness of the walls. The bedding was a mix of textures—soft white sheets layered with a dark gray comforter, patterned throw pillows, and a luxurious fur blanket draped across the foot. A low bench of smooth, solid wood sat at the end of the bed, simple yet elegant in its design.

Above the bed hung a large abstract painting, its earthy tones of bronze and black blending seamlessly into the space. It was lit by two pendant lights suspended on either side of the bed, their glass shades casting a warm, ambient glow over the nightstands beneath them. The nightstands themselves were sleek and minimal, adorned with a few thoughtful touches—a small sculpture, a stack of books, and what looked like a vintage alarm clock.

The floor was made of rich, polished wood, partially covered by a large, intricately patterned rug in shades of cream, black, and brown. Gabby’s eyes were drawn to the tall windows that dominated one wall, their black frames perfectly complementing the dark color palette. Beyond the glass was a private deck and a view of the snowy landscape outside, the natural light softening the room’s bold edges.

She couldn’t help but smile, caught off guard by how perfectly this space encapsulated Glen. It was masculine without being overbearing, stylish without being pretentious, and just comfortable enough to hint at the quiet thoughtfulness he often hid behind his teasing. It was the kind of room you wanted to linger in, much like the man who owned it.

Turning to look at him, Gabby raised an eyebrow. “This is... unexpected,” she said, her voice soft with wonder.

Glen smirked, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Unexpected good or unexpected bad?”

“Unexpected perfect,” she admitted, letting her gaze wander over the room once more. “It’s so... you.”

“It’s kind of a mix of styles,” Glen admits, almost sheepish as he watches her reaction. "I wanted it to feel kind of both modern and... comfortable, you know? This is where I spend a lot of my time when I’m home. I come in here and read scripts or respond to emails a lot in here.”

Gabby nods, absorbing the energy of the space. "I can see why," she says softly. "It’s really... perfect."

Glen gives a small chuckle. “Glad you think so. I hope you’ll be comfortable here this week.”

He stood a few steps behind her, his hands shoved casually into the pockets of his jeans. There was something almost vulnerable in the way he glanced between her and the room, as if her opinion mattered more than he cared to admit.

She turned to face him, her chest tightening with a sudden wave of emotion. It was only then that it struck her—this wasn’t just any place. This wasn’t like his rental in Los Angeles. This was his home, his real home. The ranch, with its wide-open space and weathered charm, was his pride and joy. Every detail, every corner of this house, felt steeped in him: grounded, steady, and quietly intentional.

But bringing her here, to the place that clearly meant so much to him, felt huge for their very new relationship. He wanted her here. He wanted her to see this side of him, the side that wasn’t shaped by movie sets and red carpets but by something far more authentic. And somehow, knowing that made her fall for him just a little more.

“It’s perfect,” she said softly, her fingers brushing over the edge of the wooden bedframe as she turned her gaze back to the room. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

He shrugged one shoulder, trying to play it off, but the faint curve of his lips betrayed him. “Figured it was time to show you where I come from.”

Her lips quirked into a small smile. “Well, it’s definitely not L.A.”

“Nope. It’s better.” His tone was light, but there was an undeniable sincerity in his words.

She nodded, looking out at the sun-drenched fields again. She could feel it now, too—the sense of peace that seemed to hum through the air, the way the ranch felt like an anchor to something truer and simpler.

After giving her a moment to take in the master bedroom, Glen guides her through the house again, back toward the kitchen. The space opens up into a large deck, a smooth wooden surface that stretches out from the house, offering a sweeping view of the massive backyard. The sun is beginning to dip lower, casting a golden hue across the landscape. Gabby’s gaze follows the expansive lawn, where a firepit sits surrounded by stone seating. Beyond that, the green of the land rolls on, stretching out until it reaches a distant body of water—either a river or lake—glimmering faintly in the fading light. In the far distance, a barn stands, old but sturdy, its white paint peeking out from behind a cluster of trees.

Glen notices her eyes linger on the barn and grins. 

“That’s the party barn,” he says with a wink, leaning against the railing beside her. “Not much happening there right now, but when I’ve got some time off, that’s where the guys and I go.”

Gabby laughs softly, picturing him with his friends, all of them hanging out in a place like this, enjoying the solitude of the land. “You guys must have some fun stories out there,” she says, her voice light. 

She leans forward, resting her elbows on the railing, taking in the scenery with a relaxed sigh. The quiet beauty of the place settles over her, the peace of the land wrapping around her like a warm blanket.

Glen steps closer, his presence radiating behind her. He wraps his arms around her waist, his body pressing against hers as he rests his chin gently on her shoulder. The warmth of his breath near her ear sends a shiver down her spine.

“Welcome home,” he murmurs softly, his voice low and sincere. The words settle in her chest like something precious.

Gabby’s heart flutters at the unexpected intimacy of the moment, the weight of the words not lost on her. She turns her head just enough to meet his eyes, a soft smile playing on her lips. He presses a gentle kiss to her cheek, the contact brief but tender. It lingers on her skin, sending a rush of warmth through her. 

“I’m going to grab our bags from the truck,” he says, stepping back slightly, though his hands remain on her. “Feel free to keep enjoying the view. I’ll be right back.”

Gabby watches him walk away, her mind still caught in the gentle comfort of his touch. As he disappears back inside, she leans over the railing again, letting herself relax completely. The quiet of the evening, the distant sound of wind rustling through the trees, and the sight of the water shimmering in the fading light all blend together, and for the first time since arriving, Gabby feels at peace. It’s a feeling she’s getting used to the more time she spends with Glen.

Meanwhile, Glen walks back into the house with their bags, he pauses and takes a moment to glance at Gabby, still leaning over the railing as she takes in the view. The soft evening light seemed to glow around her, making her look even more at ease than when they'd arrived. He smiles quietly to himself before walking back into the house.

He takes the bags down the hall, his mind lingering on the thought of her staying in the guest room. It’s a comfortable space, perfectly fine for her, but the idea of having her close to him, in his own room, is hard to shake. Of course, he’ll be okay with whatever she chooses. If she’s more comfortable in the guest room, than that’s okay. He shakes the thought away as he sets her bag down on the bed in the guest room and straightens up, trying to focus on the evening ahead.

When he returns to the living room, Gabby is already inside, taking in the kitchen.. Glen leans against the doorway for a moment, watching her as she surveys the space, almost like she’s settling in for a moment of peace.

“You hungry?” Glen asks, his voice casual but laced with an underlying warmth.

Gabby looks over at him, nodding with a smile. “Yeah, actually, I am.”

“I had my mom run out for some groceries before we got here,” he admits, stepping into the kitchen. “There should be plenty of stuff to work with. What do you feel like?”

Gabby shrugs, glancing over at the fridge. “Something quick and easy sounds good,” she says, her smile widening. “We don’t have to go all out.”

Glen laughs, relieved. “Definitely not. I was thinking something simple. Maybe stir-fry? Or tacos?”

She grins, the light in her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Tacos sound perfect.”

They both get to work, the easy rhythm of being in the kitchen together settling around them. Glen pulls out a few chicken breasts from the fridge and starts prepping the protein, slicing it into strips with quick, practiced motions. Gabby, meanwhile, moves toward the counter to start chopping vegetables—peppers, onions, and a handful of fresh cilantro. The space between them feels comfortable like they’ve done this together a hundred times before.

As they work, Glen glances at her now and then, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. There’s something about the way she’s so at ease in the kitchen, moving with a natural grace. She’s focused, but there’s a lightness to her that makes everything seem effortless.

“I’m impressed,” he says as she arranges the vegetables, wiping her hands on the towel. “You look like you know what you’re doing.”

Gabby raises an eyebrow, shooting him a playful glance. “You didn’t think I’d be any good at this?”

Glen chuckles, shaking his head. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure what to expect. But I’m glad I’m not the only one who knows how to cook around here.”

“Maybe you would’ve known sooner if you ever let me cook.” She quips back.

He just laughs as he looks over at her.

As they continue preparing dinner, the easy rhythm between them persists. Gabby’s focused on chopping vegetables, gliding the knife smoothly through the peppers and onions. The kitchen is filled with the hum of sizzling chicken and the soft sound of the knife hitting the cutting board.

Then, with a slight misstep, Gabby's hand jerks just as she cuts into a pepper. The blade catches her skin, and a sharp sting runs through her finger. She immediately stops, setting the knife down and cursing under her breath as she glances down.

“Damn it,” she mutters to herself, her finger now starting to redden with blood. 

Glen doesn’t notice at first, still busy with the chicken. Gabby shakes her hand, hoping it’ll stop, but when she looks at it again, the blood starts to pool around the cut then begins to run down her finger.

"Uh, Glen..." Gabby's voice cracks a little, the panic starting to creep in.

“Gabby?” His boots thudded against the wooden floor as he made his way to her. “What happened?”

“I—” she stammered, her face pale as she held up her trembling hand. “I—I cut myself. Glen, it’s bleeding a lot. Oh God, I think I’m going to—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Glen stepped in, his voice calm and steady, grounding her. He reached for her wrist, his fingers warm and grounding as he gently pulled her hand closer. “Let me see.”

She reluctantly let him examine the wound, her breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. Her free hand braced against the counter as her knees wobbled.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Glen said after a beat, his tone calm and reassuring. “It’s a clean cut, nothing too deep. You’re gonna be fine.”

Gabby didn’t feel fine. Her vision swam, and her chest felt tight. “Are you sure? What if I need stitches? What if we have to go to the hospital? What if—”

“Gabby.” His voice softened, and she dared to look up at him. His green eyes were steady, his expression a mix of concern and amusement. “You’re not dying. I promise.”

“I’m not good with blood,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I noticed,” he said, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he guided her toward the sink.

She stumbled after him, her hand throbbing, her heart racing. The sight of the blood smeared across her palm made her stomach twist again, and she squeezed her eyes shut as Glen turned on the faucet.

“Deep breath,” he said, his hand firm but gentle as he held hers under the cool water. “You’re tougher than this. I’ve seen you handle way worse.”

“That’s debatable,” she muttered, wincing as the water stung.

“Nope. I’ve got evidence. Like that time I made you watch a scary movie with me and you left nail marks on my arm.”

Gabby cracked an eye open to glare at him. “This is not the same as a scary movie.”

“Fair point,” he teased, his grin widening as he turned off the tap and reached for a clean dish towel. “The slasher in the move was way scarier.”

Despite herself, she let out a shaky laugh. “You’re the worst.”

“I’ve been called worse,” Glen said lightly as he patted her hand dry. But his teasing faded as he inspected the cut again, his focus sharpening. “Hold still,” he murmured, turning to open a drawer and then pull out a first aid kit inside.

Gabby stayed rooted in place, her pulse still pounding in her ears but slowing under the calm efficiency of Glen’s movements. His hands were steady, his touch sure as he opened the kit and pulled out antiseptic and bandages.

“This might sting a little,” he warned, dabbing at the cut with a cotton pad soaked in antiseptic.

She hissed, her fingers twitching in his grasp. “A little?”

“Okay, maybe a lot,” he admitted with a chuckle. “But you’re doing great.”

Gabby bit her lip, her eyes fixed on his face instead of the wound. He was so calm, as if patching her up was just another chore on the ranch. For all his teasing, he took the task seriously, his brows furrowed in concentration as he carefully wrapped a bandage around her hand.

“There,” he said after a moment, stepping back to admire his work. “Good as new.”

Gabby glanced down at the neatly wrapped bandage and let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. The bleeding had stopped, and the throbbing was already fading to a dull ache. “I... guess it’s not that bad,” she admitted reluctantly.

“Told you,” Glen said with a wink, leaning back against the counter. “You just needed a cowboy-slash-surgeon to handle it.”

She rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched into a smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re dramatic,” he shot back, his grin playful.

But as she looked at him, standing there with that easy confidence and those steady hands that had just taken care of her without a second thought, her heart did a little flip. There was something about the way he’d stepped in, so calm and capable, that made her feel... safe.

“Thanks, Glen,” she said softly, her voice catching slightly.

His teasing smirk softened into something warmer. “Anytime, Gabby.”

Gabby lingered there, cradling her bandaged hand against her chest as she watched Glen. He had gone back to tidying up the counter, wiping away the faint smear of blood as if patching her up had been no big deal. But to her, it had been a very big deal. He’d been calm when she wasn’t, steady when she was spiraling. She bit her bottom lip, her heart doing a funny little flip in her chest.

This man—this steady, confident, infuriatingly charming man—was becoming so much more to her than she’d anticipated. It wasn’t just the way he’d taken care of her tonight. It was everything about him—the way he teased her, the way he made her laugh, the way he somehow always seemed to know exactly what to say to settle her nerves. She realized then, with startling clarity, that she didn’t just like Glen. She really liked him. She maybe even loved him.

And that thought scared her. Because if this didn’t work out—if she let herself fall for him completely and it all went wrong—she wasn’t sure she’d be able to pick up the pieces.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice him turn back to her until his voice broke through.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asked, his tone soft, his hazel eyes glinting with curiosity. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

She blinked, realizing she’d been staring, and felt heat rush to her cheeks. Before she could come up with a quick excuse, Glen stepped closer, his hands finding their way to her waist. He pulled her gently toward him, the warmth of his touch grounding her in a way that made her heart thud even harder.

“Well?” he prompted, tilting his head as a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “What’s on your mind, Gabby?”

She smiled up at him, her fingers brushing lightly against the front of his shirt, where she could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath the fabric. “I think…” She hesitated, her smile softening as her eyes met his. “I think I’m in trouble.”

Glen’s brows furrowed, and the humor faded from his expression, replaced by something more serious. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice quieter now, like he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

Gabby bit her lip again, her gaze flicking down to her hand resting on his chest. Her thumb moved absently over the fabric as she searched for the right words. “I mean… I like you, Glen,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Like, really like you. And that scares me, because if this doesn’t work out…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “If this doesn’t work, I don’t think I’ll walk away unscathed.”

For a moment, Glen didn’t say anything. He just looked at her, his eyes searching hers, his hands steady on her waist. Then, his grip tightened just slightly, and the corner of his mouth quirked into a small, reassuring smile.

“Well,” he said, his voice low and warm, “then it’s a good thing I don’t plan on letting this not work out.”

Her breath caught, and for a moment, the fear she’d been holding onto melted away under the weight of his words and the way he was looking at her—like she was the only thing in the room that mattered.

And maybe, just maybe, falling for Glen wasn’t as scary as it seemed.

Glen’s gaze softened as he searched her face, his hands tightening slightly at her waist, pulling her just a little closer. The air between them felt heavier, charged with a warmth that made Gabby’s chest ache in the best way. Then, without another word, he leaned down and kissed her.

It was soft at first, almost tentative, as if he was testing the waters. But when her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt and she kissed him back, he deepened it, his hands sliding from her waist to cradle her face. Time seemed to stand still as the rest of the world faded away, leaving just the two of them in the quiet hum of the kitchen.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, his lips curling into a smile. “For the record,” he said, his voice low and rough, “I really, really like you too.”

Gabby laughed softly, her hands still fisted in his shirt as her cheeks flushed. “You better,” she teased, her voice light despite the nervous flutter in her chest.

Glen kissed her again, quick and firm, before stepping back and brushing his thumb against her jaw. “Alright,” he said, his tone returning to that easy confidence she knew so well, “you should probably take it easy after that serious injury of yours. I’ll finish up dinner.”

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as she tilted her head at him. “It’s a cut, Glen. I’m not a war hero coming home from battle.”

“Uh-huh,” he said with a smirk, wiping his hands on a towel. “And yet, you looked ready to pass out ten minutes ago.”

“I did not,” she shot back, narrowing her eyes.

Glen chuckled, stepping closer again. “Sure, tough girl. Go sit down in the living room before I have to carry you there myself.”

Gabby raised a brow, her lips quirking into a challenge. “You wouldn’t dare.”

His smirk widened. “Wouldn’t I?”

Before she could retort, Glen moved fast, his arms wrapping around her as he effortlessly hoisted her over his shoulder.

“Glen!” she shrieked, laughing despite herself as she kicked her legs in protest. “Put me down!”

“Nope,” he said cheerfully, his tone utterly unapologetic as he carried her toward the living room. “You had your chance to go willingly.”

“This isn’t fair!” she exclaimed, her fists playfully hitting his back as she squirmed. “I can’t fight back when you’re manhandling me like this!”

“That’s the idea,” he said with a laugh, adjusting her weight slightly as if she weighed nothing. “Maybe next time you’ll listen to me.”

“Next time? Oh, you’re dreaming, cowboy,” she shot back, kicking her feet again for good measure.

Glen only laughed harder as he reached the couch. With a careful yet exaggerated flourish, he set her down, smirking down at her as she fixed him with a mock glare.

“Comfortable?” he asked innocently, crossing his arms and leaning slightly to one side as if daring her to challenge him again.

Gabby folded her arms and leaned back against the cushions with an exaggerated huff, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re stubborn,” Glen shot back, his grin as smug as ever. “Now stay there while I finish dinner. Doctor’s orders.”

Gabby rolled her eyes again, but this time it was accompanied by a laugh as she watched him head back toward the kitchen. 

“You’re not a doctor! Have you ever even played one?” She teased. But as much as she hated to admit it, being taken care of by Glen—and teased in the process—felt a little too good.

About fifteen minutes later, Gabby was curled up on the couch, idly scrolling through her phone as the sound of clinking dishes and the occasional hum of Glen’s voice drifted in from the kitchen. The scent of seasoned chicken and warm tortillas filled the air, making her stomach growl in anticipation.

When Glen finally appeared, he was carrying two plates balanced perfectly in his large hands. The sight of him—a little more relaxed now, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and that easy grin on his face—made her heart do an annoyingly giddy flip.

“Dinner is served,” he said, setting one plate down in front of her before placing his own on the coffee table.

Gabby smiled, sitting up a little straighter and taking the plate. “Thank you, Chef Glen. Smells amazing.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, his grin widening as he straightened up. “I’m gonna grab a drink. You want anything?”

She hesitated for a moment, looking down at her plate, then back up at him. “Sure. Surprise me.”

“Alright,” he said with a wink, heading back toward the kitchen.

A minute later, he returned with two glasses—one filled with iced tea for her and the other with what looked like a cold beer for himself. He set hers down on the coffee table next to her plate before sinking onto the couch beside her, the cushions dipping under his weight.

“There you go,” he said, nodding toward the glass. “Extra ice, just how you like it.”

Gabby raised a brow at him, her lips tugging into a smile. “You remembered that?”

“Of course I did,” he said, taking a sip of his beer. “I’ve got a good memory when it comes to important things.”

Her smile softened as she picked up the glass, the cold condensation pressing against her fingers. “Thank you,” she said quietly, looking over at him as her heart did that fluttery thing again.

He glanced at her, his brow furrowing slightly. “For what?”

“For…” She paused, taking a sip of the tea before setting it down and shrugging. “For taking care of me. For being you, I guess.”

Glen’s lips curved into a slow smile, and he leaned back against the couch, one arm resting along the back as his eyes stayed on her. “Well, I like taking care of you,” he said simply.

Gabby laughed softly, shaking her head as she picked up her taco. The two of them settled into a comfortable rhythm, sharing bites of food and bits of conversation between mouthfuls. The sound of laughter and clinking glasses filled the living room, blending with the soft hum of the evening.

And as Gabby sat there beside him, eating chicken tacos on the couch like they’d done it a hundred times before, she couldn’t help but feel like she was exactly where she was meant to be.

As the last of their tacos disappeared, Gabby leaned back into the couch, setting her empty plate on the coffee table with a satisfied sigh. Glen did the same, stretching his legs out in front of him, his socked feet brushing against hers.

“Okay,” she said, wiping her hands on a napkin. “I’ll admit it—those tacos were amazing. You’ve officially ruined takeout for me.”

Glen smirked, leaning his head back against the couch. “High praise. I’ll take it.”

She gave him a playful nudge with her foot, which he caught with his, trapping it gently between his. For a moment, the room was quiet except for the faint creak of the house settling and the soft clinking of their glasses on the table.

Then, Glen tilted his head toward her, his expression thoughtful. “What do you say we change into something more comfortable? Get cozy for the rest of the night?”

Gabby arched a brow, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “Are you trying to call it a night already? It’s barely past eight, old man.”

“Nah,” he said with an easy grin. “Not saying we need to sleep. Just thought we could ditch the jeans and get into some pajamas or sweats. You know—real comfort.”

He pushed off the couch, offering her a hand to help her up. “Go ahead and get changed and I’ll met you in my room in ten.”

Gabby took his hand but didn’t move right away, giving him an exaggeratedly confused look. “Your room? I thought we were sleeping separately tonight. Wasn’t I supposed to take the guest room?”

For a moment, Glen’s entire face fell. His hand remained in hers, but his shoulders sagged as he stared at her, completely speechless—a rare thing for him.

Her grin widened as she shoved his chest lightly and stood. “Relax, cowboy,” she said with a laugh. “I’m joking. You should’ve seen your face, though!”

He narrowed his eyes at her, his lips twitching like he was fighting a grin. “You’re real funny, you know that?”

“Yeah,” she said, still chuckling as she headed toward her overnight bag by the door. “But you like it.”

“Mm-hm,” he called after her, his voice laced with amusement. “You better sleep with one eye open tonight.”

Gabby just laughed, already thinking about how his expression would probably replay in her head for the rest of the evening.

Gabby smirked over her shoulder, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Ooh, I’m so scared of you,” she teased, winking before turning on her heel and heading toward the hallway.

She could practically hear him smirking behind her. “You should be,” Glen’s voice followed, playful but low. He was already on her tail, footsteps steady but quick, matching her pace.

Before she could even make it halfway down the hall, she felt his hands slip around her waist, his strong arms locking around her like a vice. With an effortless move, Glen lifted her off the ground, spinning her around so that she was facing him, her feet dangling slightly.

“What the—? Glen!” Gabby let out a surprised laugh, her hands instinctively reaching for his shoulders to steady herself. She playfully kicked her legs, trying to wiggle free.

He grinned, his voice a teasing whisper. “Told you to sleep with one eye open.”

Her legs kicked out in mock protest, and she gave his chest a soft shove, but she wasn’t really trying to escape. “It’s not fair,” she muttered, pretending to glare up at him, “that you can manhandle me like this.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You love it.”

“I do not,” she shot back quickly, even though the warmth blooming in her chest said otherwise.

“Mm-hm,” he hummed as he slowly lowered her back to her feet, but kept his arms around her. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’”

Gabby bit her lip to stop herself from grinning too wide, but it didn’t work. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, but there was no malice in the words—just affection.

“You’ve got that right.” His grin softened, and he leaned in to kiss her temple, a quick, tender moment before he nudged her toward the hallway again. “Now, go get changed. I’ll be in my room.”

[maxellminidisc]

Like that this album is less airy and atmospheric to match Suho's vocals this time, the density of its bass and rhythm sections and stronger to sharper guitar sounds make it more earthy and serve to contrast the vocals this time. I definitely hear a pleasant evolution to the rock arena that Suho likea playing in! I just wish he'd be a lil less afraid to fuck up his vocals lmao it doesn't need to be soo precise and clean, get a lil gritty!!

[heartorbit]

searching for a star that's still unknown to anyone!

[greyedian]

MAN I'm seriously so sad about season 2. Bc I wish act 2 had the same emotional impact on me as it appears to have on so many others. But rn I'm just somewhere between unable to care and actively annoyed by some of those writing decisions. Seriously the more I think about it the less I like it.

[velaraffricate]

one thing ive been wanting to do for my conworld is invent some sports. came up with this idea yesterday:

there's typically 3 or 4 evenly spaced apart (5-20m away from each other) trees, but can be more depending on field and team size

trees thickness can vary but are usually somewhat thick, can also be replaced by movable poles so field size can be adjusted depending on how many players there are

space in middle is clear, ground is usually just dirt

1-3 players are assigned to each tree

each player/team has to hit the opponent team's tree and avoid their own tree being hit

hitting a tree gets you a point, getting hit loses a point

once a certain number of points, typically ranging between 5 and 10, is reached by one team, they win

trees and players are marked with colourful cloths for easy identification

ball is usually made from leather stuffed with wool or feathers

players are only allowed to touch the ball with their feet and knees, but not their hands or other body parts

if ball is touched with forbidden body part, that team loses the ball, and whichever enemy's tree they were closest to, that team gets the ball

shoving other players or being otherwise overly aggressive isn't tolerated and results in point loss or disqualification

if tree is hit, that tree's team gets the ball. one player stands at the base of their tree and kicks it to a teammate, or if only one player, they just start playing again from the tree

who has the ball first is decided by random chance, like pulling coloured stones out of a bag, or often if there's only one player per tree, who the youngest person is

the ball can't go outside the field. if that happens, whichever team's tree it was closest to when it exited, that team gets the ball barring the team that kicked the ball out

obviously inspired a lot by soccer in some parts but still different enough for my taste. am curious if something like this already exists, i did do a bit of research into ancient sports but really only took a cursory look and didn't find anything quite like this

[rae-unbeloved]

Gmorning chat :3

[baekuras]

Tomorrow I need to do an eye checkup in english (instead of german aka the norm) and I just checked if there are any better ways to explains things or tell people what to do etc instead of my basically direct translations and turns out

nope

it sounds exactly as stupid as i already worded it, no special words or better formed sentences around 10/10 school english is good enough (nice)

[an-unraveling-unknown]

My thoughts on Undertale and philosophy

This short thought barf has so many holes and ramblings and the concept in itself could probably be explained far better by the countless video essays that genuinely had hard work into them and I recommend them no questions asked but I need to gush and further procrastinate on my French or else my brain will eat itself and explode (I’m sorry Ms. L)

Undertale is a game based in Nihilism that wants you to think that it’s based in Existentialism, while simultaneously having elements of both. Oough okay here we go

The basic outline for Nihilism is that nothing matters and we’re all going to perish unceremoniously. In broader terms, everything and anything we do as human beings does not change anything, it doesn’t matter, we are bound to fate and there is no meaning to life - meaning is a social construct per se. 

Existentialism, however, was created in more optimistic direct opposition to Nihilism, saying that we make meaning. We are defined by our existence, in our actions, who we are, people must choose a direction and meaning in life. 

Undertale happens to juggle both of these with humor upon a polka-dotted unicycle with mirth in its eyes.

One of the coolest things about the Undertale is that its game mechanics are a very real part of the world. You die, you can reset, you can reset at any point whatsoever, whether you choose mercy or fight or both has a specified outcome, you have control. A few select characters know this, like Flowey and Sans, but they can’t really do anything to stop you if you’re determined enough because determination is in ALL human souls - the will to keep living and change fate. It is RIGHT THERE is the description, Existentialism, where we make meaning, where we are in control, where we can change fate because we are determined to make meaning. Everything matters because we think it does (which could also tie into trying to decipher the story and make sense of things where they are chaotic and unknowable, like the elusive W.D Gaster. That, and that’s what a lot of the games were striving for at the time - rewarding the player by making sense, for all the puzzle pieces to satisfyingly click together.)*

But no matter how you play the game, Genocide route or Neutral or Pacifist, no matter what you do, you always end up back in the underground. If Chara goes up to the surface and presumably murders everyone she sees or something along those lines, it all resets. If Flowey decimates you and does whatever he does, it all resets. If you die in a fight with a monster, if Asgore defeats you and uses your determination soul to break the surface barrier, if you do the morally correct thing and find a way to break the barrier so the monsters can be free from the underground’s confines, it all has to reset.

The Monsters cannot truly go back up to the surface, and neither can you. 

Everything you did, all that you accomplished to help them, to break the mold, or to betray them and slaughter them all (or just a select few,) as a whole, It did not matter. What’s more, you will likely reset, regardless of any ending. You may reset, again and again and again, perhaps to see what will happen because of human curiosity, mayhaps because its just a really good game, or perhaps to subconsciously get proper closure - but regardless of any of these, you always end up back in the underground. You cannot win, but isn’t that what games are for?

The only way to ‘win’ at this game is to never play it, really.

Undertale game mechanics are a very real part of the world built up around it and is a game that is self-aware in more ways than one - it knows what you do, it judges you for it, and it knows you cannot get out.

HOWEVER, like most things, there are two sides to that coin.

In all of this, you’re allowing yourself to have Determination - Hope. That’s what’s keeping you going as you claw and scrape your way through fights and levels of the story, what’s keeping you kind through the pacifist run (it takes a lot of effort to be kind sometimes, that’s not for nothing), that’s what’s keeping the Monsters going, the hope that they’ll see the surface again, that you can help, that again and again and again is hope. You are all in a perpetual state of hope.

Isn’t that an incredibly human thing to be?

Even better, that’s the games point. That we can come together, respect our differences and get along. Regardless of who we are, we are all bounded together by determination and hope. We can, and should care for each other, and learn and grow.

Heck, in the act of doing all this, we are making meaning, Cos’ we play games and everything feels alright for a bit.

“The human soul can be indomitable” Hell yeah it can.

[lunarcry]

im going to end it all (positive)

[bumbleblurr]

I gotta hold myself accountable to when I'm making content that's not really based on canon at all, so I remain self aware & whatnot, but I still occasionally think things like "but blurr should be arcee's number one fan 🥺.... bc i said so........"

[ajdrawshq]

watched highlights of the p5 anime (dub) bc i cant be assed to watch the whole thing and uh. that was a good decision bc i could not handle watching all of that i think

[starsweeperskies]

Got two dnd ships on the brain and yet...im the only one to create the Contents because the dm's not one to write fic while he's running campaigns, and no one else has the brainrot.

And im too tired to draw or write. So brainrot. So much brainrot.

But mah babies.

[radrobotz]

had to get more blood drawn but it wasnt as bad i didnt even get that nauseous 🥰

[p2iimon]

should i drop everyone i went to school with as revenge for never comforting me ever ever even once even trying (except my boyfriend, who did) y/n

[transgaysex]

its 5 am and i really shouldnt be having thoughts right now but im so anxious about school