#its stored in the way u understand that i only get mad because i care and i only have expectations because i believe u care

[stillhaventgotmydriverslicense]

love is stored in the mid biryani we ate at the cheap knock off of marine drive 5 mins from my house 2 days before your exams

[sainotavailable]

pairings — Venti, Kazuha, Wanderer, Xiao, Kaeya, and Al-Haitham x gn!Reader

summary — You checked your pantry and wow! You don't have shit besides spiders chillin' in the corner of the cabinet. It's time to shop, and your s/o wants to go with you (or in Al-Haitham's case, you drag him along). Would he behave himself and is he OK to bring to society?

tags / warnings — crack / fluff / HCs, almost all of them are insane. kazuha is HIGH ASF, wanderer is an asshole (canon), venti and kaeya have crippling alcoholism, PDA, established relationship, please stop taking these men outside.

A/N — this is my first post. i'm sorry you had to read it but i just write stupid crack hc's or weird shit. also i'm crying because tumblr deleted the first draft i was gonna post. absolutely in tears rn.

Venti “Huh, you’re going to the market? Can I come, can I come!?”

As soon as you step foot into the market, expect him to dash in front of you in search for wine. If you’re in another nation or they’re sold out of his favorite booze, he will drop to his knees and BAWL (but it sounds rly pretty cuz he’s a good bard yk like a disney princess)

you urge him to stand up because he’s being embarrassing and that just makes him roll around on the dirty ass floor because he’s a fucking drama king. legit doing it to spite you even tho you didn’t do shit. however once he recovers he’ll…

put random shit into the basket (no he doesn’t need it he just thinks maybe in the future one of u might. please take it out)

will buy plastic bendy straws so he can drink his alcohol in a silly goofy way

will find a way to eat more than 1 free sample at the food stalls (has a fake mustache for this occasion)

if he finds wine that’s rly expensive he will attempt to seduce you into purchasing it for him (dont feed into his alcoholism)

will try to go into the basket (even if its handheld)

expect him to serenade you the entire time you're shopping, too

also he will hold ur hand and just be all over u. he loves u sm <3

will complain once he gets tired (its only been 10 minutes)

overall, terrible to bring. leave him at home

Kazuha “Oh, have we run out of goods? May I accompany you?”

As you shop, you kind of forget he’s even there until he picks something up to take a closer look and makes a comment. He mostly just chills and follows you around. But…

he actually might be high

how many nakuweeds did u have before you two left? did u count???

all of a sudden he’s adding random snaccs to the basket. when did he ever eat this shit?

as you watch him stuff a dozen doughnuts into ur basket that’s when u realize he might have some crazy munchies. maybe u should ask??

actually maybe not he looks really out of it. he ated all the weeds

as you try and put away some of the shit he put in you see him staring at the local cats

he doesn't know wtf is going on

you should probably go back home now

overall, probably fine to bring with you when he’s not high as a kite

Wanderer “Where are you going? To the market? . . . I better go with you—no, not because I want to, but because you’ll get that generic store brand shit.”

He’s mad and he doesn’t wanna be there, but bc you’re such an asshole who buys generic great value tea. anyways even tho he looks really mad, he doesn’t mind being with you (what a shit) will wander (heh) away from you and look at other stuff. if u try and contain him he’ll get pissy about it and insist he’s an independent puppet-man and he’s not gonna commit tomfoolery anymore. anyways so…

he doesn’t care if ur trying to save mora, he WILL have his namebrand inazuman tea!!!

maybe he won’t… because he understands prices are very tough right now. BUT its not because you told him to, you fucking box

gets PISSED and will become a karen if the cashier doesn’t say hi to him

our boy is toxic and i will not fluff him down this is just him and u like it

will slap your hand if you try and hold his hand. like, not hard. but like, the way a cat slaps your hand when its tired of you petting it.

will hold ur hand if u try a second time but his grip is rly tight cause bro is always tense asf

overall, don’t bring him if you like the store/market you’re going to. you might get banned

Xiao “You’re going to the market? I see . . . It’s getting dark out, so I’ll come with you.”

You know he’s anxious about being around so many people, but he wants to protect you <3<3 so he’ll overcome this obstacle and follow you around like a lost puppy…

actually he’s really close

like holy shit back up xiao, he’s right against ur back

you dont bother to say anything bc yk he’ll say some shit like “YOU HAVE NO RESPECT FOR THE ADEPTI”

actually maybe you should grab his hand because he legit looks like a deer in headlights

will hold ur groceries for you bc he’s so strong <3

u can't hold his hand because he's holding his giant fucking polearm "just in case" and holding your bags in the other, so maybe hold his arm??

he loves that shit even if he doesnt admit it

might suddenly leave with ur groceries if he’s called or some shit, will return with torn bags but its ok he did everything he could to fix it!

by fix it i mean now he’s just holding everything and pierced it into his spear

you should just be happy he has everything. don’t comment on it

overall, 10/10. besides the anxiety, he likes being near you even if he doesnt admit it. ur groceries are safe with him just like you are <3<3

Kaeya “Groceries? Oho, well. I have some time, why don’t I go with you? You’ll need a big strong captain to carry all your bags, after all.”

Even if you didn’t want to bring him, he’s coming with you anyways. I think the best part about Kaeya is he’ll stick by your side throughout the trip to the market and follow you around wherever you go.

Honestly, out of everyone else, it feels like he might be the best one to bring with you…

plez expect him to have an arm slung over your shoulders or snaked around your waist. he loves pda!

EXCEPT! he is the KING OF CONSENT(tm) he will only do it if you say its ok! what a sigma chad wtf

i hope you like talking because kaeya fucking loves chatting while shopping. he will not be quiet for long even if you tell him to stfu

even if you’re not the chatty type and you’re pretty quiet, he’ll talk for you. about his day, what he did that morning (even if u already know), what he’s gonna do later, he will not leave a single detail out.

hey btw remember when i said he won’t leave ur side? i lied. don’t trust anyone on the internet.

he will 100% leave your side for the booze market. he is more interested in imported wine that he can get his hands on

will return to you with 6 bottles and insist they’re for you both to share. please stop feeding into his alcoholism

he will carry your bags btw. all of them. he will have both arms packed with bags and won’t complain, might just tease you a little tho.

overall, a fantastic man to bring with you to grocery shop. can protect u cuz he’s a strong cavalry captain who will hold ur belongings without complaint. just feed him booze <3<3

Al-Haitham “. . . Fine, I’ll go with you to pick up some things. I need to pick up a new book to take to work, anyway.”

The moment you enter the marketplace, you most likely will never find your partner again. At least, not until later in your shopping trip. He literally disappeared, where the fuck did he go?

Its only half way through that you find him and see him sitting on one of the benches, flipping through the new book he purchased. You call for him, but his soundproof earpieces are in effect. You snatch the book out of his hands to get his attention and bother him enough to follow you. He lets out a sigh, but gets up anyway…

u rly should’ve left him there cuz he’s so quiet. he might still have his earpieces on.

he’ll follow you around by your side and he’ll hold your bags, too. he’s got big strong arms for a fuckin reason!!

half way through he’ll start reading his book again, sorry but shopping is rly boring to him ok

al-haitham isn’t a pda person btw don’t touch him

might hold ur hand.

will hold ur hand if the cashier is too sus for his liking

maybe

if you run into kaveh while shopping he will leave. if ur holding hands he will leave with u even if u didnt pay for ur shit yet.

overall, um. he’s definitely an option. he’ll hold ur bags??? he just wants to go back home

[machine-gun-casie]

tavern music

synopsis: corpse hears tavern music coming from your room (gn!reader)

warnings: rpf, reader gets cheated on, kind of unrequited feelings, mostly hurt/comfort and physical affection tho (what im trying to say is that this is mostly self indulgent)

wc: 1.7k

a/n: havent written in a while but i found this in my arsenal, fixed it up a bit and viola. original plans for this was definitely something longer that would end with them being together but im not up for writing rn. been feeling really shitty lately and ive been needing something like this in my life. hope u guys like it ♡

He couldn’t hear it at first. His headset was on and everyone was being so loud on the discord call. When he started the stream, he really thought it was gonna be a long one. But he’s only two hours in and he’s ready to get the hell off because something was definitely wrong.

“Corpse?” His name being spoken finally broke him out of his trance, he only hummed in response. “You’ve been really quiet. Are you sure you’re up for another game?”

“Actually,” he starts as he closes a few tabs, “I think I’ve gotta go. Today was fun, though. Thanks for having me guys.”

After a chorus of ‘goodbye’s and ‘see you later’s, Corpse disconnected from the discord call. “Thank you guys for being here,” he addressed the chat, “sorry I’m ending so early today. I promise I’ll make it up to you next time. Take care of yourselves. Later.”

After hanging up his headset and getting out of the chair he’s been sitting in for far too long, Corpse made the short trek to your room. 

You had only been roommates for less than four months, but Corpse could confidently say that you have become one of his closest friends. Getting a roommate was the last resort that he never wanted to actually resort to. But alas, medical bills were piling up and youtube and music don’t make half as much money as people think they do. So cutting rent in half was the best plan he could come up with. He did have an extra guest room that no one ever stayed in. Of course having someone move into his personal space was terrifying to him. He didn’t just want to post an ad on craigslist or something. So he asked a couple trusted friends to ask a couple trusted friends… And that’s when you came in.

You were the trusted friend of a trusted friend of a trusted friend. When you met, you didn’t make a comment about his voice. Your face sure as hell showed your surprise but you didn’t say anything. To Corpse, this meant one of two things. You either knew who he was but didn’t want to freak him out, or you didn’t know about his online persona and were just genuinely shocked by his voice. It only took a few minutes of knowing you to know that it was the latter. Thank god. You were like anyone your age with social media. You had a few accounts, followed a few people, but mostly used it to stay in contact with friends. 

It only took you guys a week to realize you had way too much in common. After many a late night when he wasn’t streaming, and many an early morning when he was just done streaming, you two became inseparable. Nothing could keep you apart.

Except for one thing.

You had a boyfriend.

There was nothing wrong with your boyfriend, per se. Just the fact that he was your boyfriend and Corpse was not. 

Yeah, Corpse definitely had feelings for you. 

But right now, feelings didn’t matter when he could hear tavern music coming from your room.

He knocked lightly and pushed the door open slowly. “y/n? Can I come in?”

No response came, just sniffles and sobs. The lack of refusal on your part gave him the courage he needed to open the door wider and step into your room. He had only been in your room a couple of times since you had moved in. But he had never been in a room that gave off the feeling of a person so well.

You were curled up on your bed, facing your open laptop screen and the tavern music coming from its speakers. With every sob shaking your chest, Corpse felt his heart break. “y/n,” he murmured softly, “what’s wrong?”

“It’s not working.” Came your reply, heavy with tears. “You said it would make you feel like you're going on an adventure but I still feel like crap.”

“What happened?” Corpse asked as he sat down on your bed, facing you. You slowly sat up and crossed your legs at your ankles in front of you.

“He-” You sighed heavily. “He cheated on me.”

“What?”

“He cheated on me -has been cheating on me- with my best friend. My little brother found out.” You groaned and dramatically dropped your head onto Corpse’s thigh. His hand immediately came in contact with your cheek as he brushed a few stray tears away.

There was rarely any physical contact between you and Corpse. Sometimes you’d give him a high five, sometimes he’d give you fist bump. And there was that one time you came up behind him at the grocery store and hugged his arm to your chest. You immediately whispered something along the lines of ‘creep won’t leave me alone’ followed by a loud ‘hey babe!’

Corpse could barely admit to himself how much he liked that.

But this? This felt good. Corpse’s large warm hand on your face somehow made you want to cry more but in a good way. The tenderness with which he held your face made your heart squeeze as it remembered moments like this with your boyf- ex boyfriend. But then it remembered your brother’s words.

“Hey, what’s up?” You spoke as you answered his call. Your brother wasn’t much of a caller, so it made you worry. 

“Hey, where are you right now?”

“I’m home, why?”

“y/n… There’s something I gotta tell you.” He sighed and you could clearly hear the guilt.

“Did you break my DS!” It was your first thought as you had given it to him the last time you had seen him. “Dude! I’ve had that since I was seven!”

“No no, I called about something else.” He cut you off mid-whine. “But also I did lose the pen.” You huffed out a sigh of frustration but stayed silent so he could tell you what he wanted to tell you. “I saw your boyfriend at the park today.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “And?” How did this warrant a phone call? 

“He was with Bob.” 

When you had met your best friend, your brother was only a toddler. He had decided that her name was Bob, so it stuck. You always called her Bob, she was saved as Bob in your phone, your whole family called her Bob. But you still didn't understand. Why was he calling you to tell you that your boyfriend and your best friend were at the park? 

“Why are you calling me about this? You know that they’re friends, right?” You let out a chuckle, albeit still pretty confused. “They’re allowed to hang out without me.” 

“They weren’t hanging out.” You could hear your brother push out a strained sigh. What wasn’t he telling you? “They were making out on the swing set. As in, both of them on one swing. And I double checked, it was definitely them. I-I told mom and she said not to tell you, but I couldn’t not tell you when I’m the one who saw it!”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say a word.

“I’m sorry, y/n.”

There was no lying to yourself, you had doubts about your best friend and your boyfriend. But you constantly brushed it off. He wouldn’t hurt you like that. Hell, she couldn’t hurt like that. Not after everything you had been through together. 

But you had seen his call log by accident one time, he called her more than he did you. She face-timed him one time to ask his opinion about a dress she was going to buy while you were in the changing room. She had done a handful of things since your relationship with your boyfriend started that made you uneasy. If this was their first kiss, which was something you doubted, then they’ve both been emotionally attached to the other for far too long.

All those tender intimate moments, all those dates, throughout everything, he wasn’t faithful. Not emotionally, at least. None of those moments that you cherished meant anything to you anymore. He had played you. With none other than your best friend since middle school. You didn’t know who to be more mad at.

The thoughts of betrayal from someone who you considered a sister and the hurt of being cheated on made you nauseated.

So when the large warm hand on your face stroked your cheek again, you didn’t mind it. This was Corpse. Not your cheating boyfriend. Not your lying best friend. Corpse. And you knew that he would never hurt you.

“He’s been cheating on me for a while I think.” You mumbled against his sweatpants. “Maybe a couple months. I don’t know.” 

Corpse furrowed his brows in thought. You had told him you were going to visit your boyfriend for your one year anniversary next week. “Weren’t you go-”

“Yeah.”

“And Bob’s been your friend since-”

“Yeah.” Your chin wobbled as you answered. You brought your arms up around Corpse’s thigh and hugged it. It was a strange position, but you didn’t care. He was so warm and nice and hugging him properly required more movement on your end than you were willing to do.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Corpse sighed and reached out to untangle your arms from his leg. He gently pulled you across the few inches of bed between you and sat you in his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, immediately sobbing into his shoulder. “Do you want me to turn off the music?” You shook your head no against him and he chuckled before he solemnly sighed. “When did you find out?” 

“When I came home.”

“But you came home hours ago. Have you been in here this whole time?” You nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were streaming, didn’t wanna interrupt.” You shrugged.

“y/n,” he sighed disappointedly, “you’re my best friend. I can end a stream if you need me.”

“Okay.” Your voice, broken and weak and tired, made him feel so guilty. You had been crying your heart out for over two hours just down the hall from where he was.

He gently grabbed you by your hips and tried to push you away, but you only held on tighter and whimpered. “I just wanna get you some water.”

“I don’t want water.”

“Then what do you want?”

“You.” You whispered. “Please stay.” 

Fuck. How could he say no to that?

So he stayed.

[blxetsi]

modern eren jaeger dating headcanons

lowercase intended !

college!eren jaeger x gn!reader

warnings: mentions of p*rnhub

- firstly, this man is CONVINCED it was love at first sight (he ALWAYS tells you this too)

- "babe when i met you i just KNEW you were gonna be mine" "no you didnt" "yes i did- hey dont stop holding me 😣"

- you guys met because you were tutoring him. (he was failing history 😔💔)

- after weeks of shy touches and shared giggles he FINALLY brought his grade up and didnt need you anymore

- that didnt mean he didnt want you tho ;)

- asked you out on a date (and by that i mean to a party smh 🙄)

- and the rest is history 😌✨

- hes the kind of guy that flirts with you even though youre together

- "so uh,, you come here often 😏"

- "eren youre in my apartment 😐"

- he tries to invite you everywhere that he goes with his friends

- like,,, EVERYWHERE

- jean and reiner wanna organize a boys night ? hes pulling out his phone getting ready to text you and saying "oh is it okay if y/n comes ? i didnt get to see them much this week i miss them 🥺" like mf this is for The Boyz 😡😤🥶🥵🔥‼️

- youre weirdly close with sasha, shes just really cool

- eren will call you at the most inconvenient times for the stupidest reasons

- one time he called you while you were doing an INTERVIEW for work and you wanna know what he called you for ? to tell you he bought a bunch of silly string to use on jean.

- bitch im trying to get PAID. rn . trying to make a LIVING. so i dont end up below the POVERTY LINE. tell me about ur silly string after i secure the bag 🙄‼️

- is very touchy. like very touchy.

- but also respects bounderies

- hes NEVER mad when you have something to say about him or your relationship together

- you dont feel comfortable with the pda ?? He Wont do it Again

- you think you two could work on communicating better with each other ?? hes already googling ways to do that

- he cares and cherishes you and the bond you two have created together, hes not gonna try and ruin that

- is a fucking lightweight. dont go with him to parties.

- but if you asked him to hold his drink he will NOT forget about it.

- a couple times he broke the plastic cup he was gripping it so hard 🤩

- is also the type of guy to just protect others ?? like for no reason

- he sees a guy trying to get close to a girl who had made it abundantly clear that she didnt want that ?? hes going over there and playing bf to protect that stranger

- he can thank first year drama class for his superb acting skills 😌✨

- will literally help anyone he sees in a bind

- also his brother is weirdly cool ??

- his parents live far away but his brother only lives like,, 40 minutes away from the university

- hes like an older brother to everyone 🤩

- if you like reading classic literature zeke is your guy to talk to. has so many ideas and opinions on those stories and stuff, and will NOT hesitate to lend you a book of his

- eren has led lights in his room. he ALWAYS has them on the colour red

- he doesnt understand why ppl think hes horny bc of the red lights ?? his eyes just adjust better to the red lights compared to the blue 😔

- he has stretch marks all over his body 🤩 like on his biceps, tummy, back, thighs, etc. etc. doesnt really think about them anymore but he used to be SO self conscious of them in highschool. he saw berty (bertholdt) with his shirt off once during his freshman year and saw how he had stretch marks too, and immediately thought they were cool

- he likes to play with your hair and scratch your scalp, but he likes it when you braid his hair because he thinks it makes him look pretty

- will get you weird things because they remind him of you

- one time he came to pick you up for your date and before you could even KISS HIM hes pushing you away and pulling out a tiny ceramic frog 😐

- "no you dont understand zeke took me to a thrift store today and i found this and it reminded me of you-" "i look like a frog to you ? is that what youre saying ?" "NO ! its just so cute, and youre so cute so i had to get it. do you like it 😊"

- doesnt like most meats, his only exceptions are chicken,

- thats it 😐

- you guys were having a picnic and you made sandwichs (with the sliced turkey meat) and he took one bite out of it, looked you in your face, and spit it back into the baggy without breaking eye contact

- likes just laying in bed with you. has a playlist of songs like arctic monkeys and shit like that, just sitting in the dark with a song on low volume, whispering whatever he wants into your ear is like,, the DEFINITION of love in his book

- also can and will recite lines from shakespeare plays to you ?? will be at the most randomest times. you could be sweeping and he'd just wrap his arms around you before whispering "two households, both alike in dignity. in fair verona where we lay our scene. from ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean."

- okay mf this isnt english class 😐‼️ but thank you 😁👍

- will always try and do new tiktok trends and make funny videos so he can "blow up"

- he gets on average like 20 views 🤩

- he likes seeing you and his friends get along, it just makes him so happy that you love mikasa and armin just as much as he does, and hes so thankful that youre all friends

- likes to help you reach whatever you cant, and if youre taller (even by an inch) hes making you grab things for him

- he doesnt have a major yet, and he doesnt really know what he wants to do with his life, but being a hairstylist sounds cool

- whenever youre having a bad day mentally, he'll just give you your space unless you say otherwise

- he doesnt know if its the best idea, but he knows when he gets into a bad headspace he wants to be alone

- if you do say you want him with you, he'll lie right beside you in bed and spoon you, and if you want he'll put on the arctic monkeys playlist and whisper about the project he worked on for his business class

- he doesnt like sharing, BUT will steal your shit all the time 🙄

- "oh hey heres that thing i borrowed from you" "oh my fucking god eren i thought i lost that months ago"

- may not understand everything he learns in class, but he always tries bc this is his education !! his parents saved up a lot of money for him to be able to go to university !! hes gonna try his best to make the most of this

- i feel like he would play baseball at university. he asks that u wear his jersey to every game so "everyone knows that the most beautiful person attending this educational establishment is MINE" like,, k ill wear the jersey 🙄🤚

- has a list of the best websites to use to illegally stream movies, anime etc.

NSFW ! -------

- also hates pornhub. knows about all the controversies and shit about the website and doesnt use it. supports smaller porn companies that respect their workers 😁👍

- his parents love you. Im Serious

- carla asks about you all the time (hey mommy 😏) and his dad wonders about you too even though hes more lowkey about it

- always has to open the door for you or pull out your chair for you. no matter what setting youre in he Has to do it bc hes a gentleman

- bohemian rhapsody is his comfort film

- i think eren thinks that Youre the One for him, and this idea is solidified when you two graduate together 😍

- he takes you back to the library where he first met you, gives you a promise ring and just asks you to move in with him, hes not ready for an engagement and he knows you arent either, but he knows that youre it for him, and he just wants to be with you for as long as youll allow it

GAH this felt all over the place and very mediocre but i hope you enjoyed !!! remember asks are open so feel free to request something 🤩

[sgtjbbhasmyheart]

Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter Two

Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2921

Warnings: bad language words, blink and you’ll miss the angst, just some fluff

A/N: divider credit- @firefly-graphics

DO NOT copy or replicate without my permission

You awoke with a start, feeling as if you were late for work or something important and forgot to set your alarm. Your heart beat an erratic tattoo against your ribcage. Scrambling for your cell phone, you blindly reached across the side table near your bed in a panic. Unplugging the phone, you brought the device an ungodly closeness to your face. It was only 6:17. On Saturday.

Your pulse throbbed behind your eyeballs, and a strange stickiness coated the inside of your mouth. Did you drink that much last night?

How could you not? Timmons was a fair boss, and you enjoyed your job, but that dude loved the sound of his own voice.

The quarterly business dinners were mandatory for all employees, even for the P.A.s. Typically, they weren’t so bad, but last night, Timmons felt the need to toot his own horn for landing a massive contract with Stark Industries slash The Avengers. He went on and on about how great it was for the firm.

He was like a giant kid in a candy store with his ramblings. ‘We will be promoting the face of The Avengers and everything that goes with it,’ he spouted off like the firm was god’s gift to public relations.

You groaned at the reminder of last night’s presentation. The contract wasn’t even in effect yet, and you were sick of the Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. Timmons could be a real buzz kill.

Rolling to your back, you brought your phone up to tap the screen to read the emails you received overnight. On display was a text from 11:04 by someone named James. It read: “Goodnight, (Y/N).”

Your mind went back to last night again, trying to recall who this James was. He must be significant if you plugged his contact information into your phone already. Had you met someone last night?

Drawing a blank, you clicked on the text bubble to pull up the thread. Briefly scanning through the numerous texts, everything came rushing back. In an attempt to text your sister, Robyn, you mistakenly texted this mysterious, James.

You felt like an utter buffoon when you learned he wasn’t Robyn. You always did have a way with the cute boys. Probably why you were single. You groaned out loud as you read on.

You im safely inside my apartment. Pretty sure no one followed me home

James Did you triple check the lock on the front door?

You yes dad yeesh

James There are a lot of bad people out there. Just want to make sure you’re safe.

You sounds like you watch the news too much but its sweet of u to care

James I know from experience.

You r u the bad guy or have u been the one mugged?

James Let’s just say I have friends that have dealt with the bad things of the world.

You right i almost forgot ur a military-trained assassin athlete mchottie

James Did you ever send your sister a text?

You shit thanks for reminding me i have such a crazy story to tell her

James Only good things, I hope.

You oh yeah all the good things an enigmatic yet handsome stranger cares more about my safety than any of my ex-boyfriends ever did.

James My ma raised me right.

You id say

James_ I hate to cut this short, but I think you need your rest. Especially if you’re meeting your sister tomorrow._

You i dont want to agree but ur probably right

You whats ur name btw?

James My name? Why? Do you plan to continue texting me after tonight?

You duh ur fun to talk to

James Oh.

You or not its cool if u dont want to

James It’s James.

You nice to meet u james im (y/n)

James Nice to meet you as well.

You my sister just texted me back and were still meeting at 9 i should go 

You goodnite james

James Goodnight, (Y/N).

Oh. My. God. Had you seriously drunk-flirted with a stranger and offered to keep texting him? You had no shame with a few drinks in you.

You brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose and sighed loudly.

What did you know of this James? He had a New York area phone number. Check. He could have been a real dick about your mistake but wasn’t. Understanding. Check. He worried about you getting home safely in your inebriated state. Caring. Check. Not too forthcoming with the nine to five. Secretive. Check. His mouth looked so soft and plush, and his eyes were made to drown in. Gorgeous. Check.

A heat simmered beneath your skin as you recounted the shortlist you’d made. Were you lusting over someone you’d exchanged less than forty texts with? Had you somehow woken back up in high school?

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you stared at the screen displaying the message thread. Were you really considering this? You nodded your head to answer your own question. Where was the harm in a little shameless flirting? If worse came to worst, you could always block him.

With your mind made up, you began typing into your phone, constructing an apology.

You Good morning! First off, I want to apologize for the way I behaved over text last night.

You Though, I do like to imbibe in the occasional drink or two, I am, by no means, a lush.

You Please take everything I said with a grain of salt. Apparently, I get loose-lipped and cheeky with free wine. 😐

You Again, I’m sorry and understand if you wanted to cease our correspondence for my behavior.

You blew out a breath and tossed your phone aside. It was up to fate now and a stranger named James.

You laid in your bed for several minutes staring at the ceiling, contemplating between whether to send a ‘haha just kidding’ text and what the weather would be like, so you could forego shaving your legs in the shower today.

Your phone chimed during the pondering of hair removal, indicating a new text. You knew it was James proclaiming you a freak and to forget his number, but secretly, you hoped it was Robyn canceling today.

Seizing the phone from your mattress top, your heart’s beat increased with each second you went without looking at the screen. Finding the courage, you flipped the device over to read the message.

James Quite the formal apology, Ms. Professor.

You smiled at the text. It didn’t tell you to pound sand or eat shit. No, it was teasing and in jest. You sighed in relief.

You Cease our correspondence too much?

James No, no it was perfect if this was 1863, and you were breaking up with me via telegraph.

You Stop!

James Exactly! ‘Never speak to me again!’ Stop. ‘It’s not you, it’s me.’ Stop.

A belly laugh disrupted the tranquil air of your bedroom. You quickly thumbed out a reply once you caught your breath.

You You’re incorrigible.

James I’m glad to see you are using proper capitalization and punctuation this morning.

You Ha!

You When you are buzzed and/or tipsy, capitals and periods be damned. Like you’re so perfect when you’re drunk.

James We all have our flaws.

Was he implying he was a sloppy texter when drunk, too? You shrugged it off as him being cryptic again.

You What are you doing up so early on a Saturday? I didn’t wake you, did I?

You were suddenly stricken with guilt. You should have waited for a more reasonable hour to send out rapid-fire apology texts. Not at 6:36 in the morning. You didn’t want last night’s behavior hanging over you, though. Better to clear the air now than later. You could always ask for forgiveness again if you had disturbed his sleep.

James I had just gotten back from my run when I saw your texts. I have training this morning.

You Oh, right. For your hush-hush, super top secret mission/quidditch game.

You You ever gonna tell me what you really do?

James_ Maybe. Someday._

How far away was someday? Was he planning to text you until you both died or until he got bored? How did texting relationships even work?

You Or is it one of those situations where if you told me you’d have to kill me?

James 😈

You There you go again--being all mysterious.

James Keep ‘em guessing and coming back for more.

You Has that strategy worked well for you in the past?

James Got you to text me again this morning, didn’t it?

You scoffed at what he had suggested. He was correct, but your stubborn streak would deny everything.

You The only reason I texted you this morning was to apologize for acting like a drunken fool last night.

And to squash the curiosity burning in your veins. But he didn’t need to know that.

James Oh.

The reply caused you to furrow your brow and your stomach to drop. You regretted not adding more levity to your last text. Of course, it wasn’t the only reason you were drawn to him.

You I appreciate that the selfie you sent wasn’t a dick pic. And you genuinely seemed to care about me getting home safely. Thank you.

You And maybe- a teeny, tiny bit- is honestly interested in getting to know you better.

You waited on pins and needles for his text, watching the pulsing ellipsis on your screen. Was he just humoring you?

James Hook. Line. Sinker.

Reading his response generated a flush from your jaw to your hairline. You growled in embarrassment. You fell for the oldest trick in the book. He baited you for a compassionate answer, and you delivered beautifully. Hook, line, and sinker, indeed.

You You’re an ass. I take everything back.

James Don’t be mad. I wasn’t sure how it was going to go, but you played into my trap wonderfully.

James If it makes you feel any better, all kidding aside, I want to get to know you better too.

James I fell asleep with a smile on my face last night and woke up with one this morning.

James Because of you, (Y/N).

A flutter broke apart in your chest. You hadn’t time-traveled back to high school; no, this was junior high territory.

You You’re lucky you’re so damn charming, James.

James Doll, you have no idea.

The subway ride into Manhattan usually gave you the chance to get a little reading in since it took nearly fifty minutes from Queens. Not today, though. You spent the entirety of the train ride texting back and forth with James. It was mundane stuff, but you were getting a grasp of who James was as a person.

You Favorite color?

James Black. You?

You Blue.

You Favorite ice cream flavor?

James Chocolate. Yours?

You Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia.

James I didn’t realize we were getting specific.

You We weren’t, but that’s my favorite.

You Favorite movie?

James I like the classics- The Wizard of Oz, It’s A Wonderful Life, Frankenstein.

You I have too many to list, so don’t ask.

You Okay. Lightning round because I’m almost to my stop.

James Where are you going again?

You paused your reply for a brief second, wondering if you should divulge your destination. You’d known James less than twenty-four hours; although, it felt like weeks after this morning. Where was the harm in telling him where you were meeting your sister? There were nearly nine million people in this city. There was no way you’d ever bump into each other.

You A bakery in the Upper East Side called Two Little Red Hens. Ever been?

James Don’t think I have.

You Well, since you like chocolate, they have a fantastic cake called Brooklyn Blackout. Super rich but delicious.

James Sounds right up my alley.

You Cats or dogs?

James I’m gone too much, so cats.

The answer piqued your interest. Maybe he was an athlete. Wouldn’t it be practice and not training, though? Or he’s FBI or CIA.

You Socks on or off for sleeping?

James Off.

You Silver or gold?

James Silver.

You Morning, noon, or night?

James Night.

You How do you take your coffee?

James Room for sugar and creamer.

You Boxers or briefs?

James Boxer briefs.

You laughed out loud, looking around the subway car to see if anyone was paying attention to you. Per usual, they weren’t.

You Touché.

As soon as the train stopped, you gathered your purse close to your body and made for the exit. You followed the crowd of fellow passengers through the turnstile and ascended the stairs onto street level.

The morning sunlight caressed your skin like a warm blanket. The humidity wasn’t too bad, yet, but the threat of afternoon thunderstorms still hung in the air.

Even with the reasonably early hour, the sidewalk was stuffed with people, carrying to-go coffee cups or shopping bags. You fought for your little spot of real estate on the grimy concrete.

Stopping at a red traffic light, waiting to cross, you typed out another question for James.

You Pineapple on pizza--yay or nay?

The light changed as you finished, and the throng of pedestrians around you guided you across the street. You spotted Robyn outside the bakery as your phone dinged with a new text alert.

“Wow, I’m surprised you made it on time,” Robyn said as you hugged hello.

You looked at the clock on your phone. 8:58. “You and me both, sister.” Glancing back at your phone’s screen, you giggled.

James What kind of monster puts pineapple on their pizza??

“What’s so funny?” Robyn asked as you accompanied her through the bakery’s door.

With a grin on your face, you punched out a quick reply:

You Well, it was nice knowing you, James. It was a swell friendship while it lasted--a whole 11 ½ hours.

Robyn elbowed you softly in the ribs with a look on her face, seeking an explanation.

“Ow,” you grunted. “What?”

“You tell me. I half expected a zombie to walk through the doors today after your text last night. Not Suzie Sunshine.”

You both edged closer to the counter as the line in front of you dwindled.

James Say it ain’t so, doll! Pineapple on pizza? Really??

You let out a low chortle as you skimmed the text. You glimpsed up at Robyn as you shuffled forward in line again. “Believe me, I’m pretty hungover,” you replied, shoving your phone in your back pocket. “It’s a funny story. I’ll tell you everything when we sit.”

Robyn stared at you warily, still trying to figure out what had come over you. “Okay,” she conceded, stepping to the register to order.

With each of you supplied with an iced coffee and a peach ginger scone, you found an empty table by a window along 2nd Avenue and proceeded to tell Robyn about James.

When you stopped to catch your breath, remembering the whirlwind the last twelve hours had been, you peered at your sister for her reaction.

She stared at you like you’d grown a second head. She shook her head in disbelief. “(Y/N), what where you thinking?”

Your brow pinched in confusion. Was she actually scolding you? You crossed your arms over your chest. “I was thinking about how my big sister is always telling me to meet new people and how it’s time I thought about settling down.”

“Not like this it’s not,” she hissed. “This is how your body parts end up in someone’s freezer!”

You choked on the piece of scone you shoved in your mouth before she started ridiculing you. After coughing to clear your airway and taking a sip of your iced coffee, you leered at Robyn. “Oh, my god! Dramatic much? Have you been binge-watching Dateline again? Jesus Christ, Robyn, he’s harmless,” you countered.

“You think you’ll be so careful, but you’ll let one little detail slip, and he’ll find you,” Robyn said before taking a pull from her coffee.

“You mean, like, how I was meeting you at Two Little Red Hens at nine o’clock?”

Robyn’s mouth popped open in an O. “What the hell, (Y/N)?” she stage-whispered. “Are you trying to get yourself kidnapped and sold into sex trafficking?”

“Please,” you drew out in one long syllable. “He doesn’t know what I look like. How would he snatch me?”

“He could look you up on Facebook.”

“Without a last name?” You shook your head, no.

“What about a reverse search on your number?” Robyn asked, pushing the plate holding her scone away. “That’s a thing.”

“Perhaps, but it seems like a lot of effort for a mistake I made. It wasn’t like he was seeking me or anyone else out.”

Robyn huffed out a breath and folded her arms in exasperation. Always the protective big sister. You could tell you were breaking her down, though.

“C’ mon, Robbie. It’s all in innocent fun. I’m not saying I’m hoping he’ll turn out to be Mr. Right, but the banter is fun,” you remarked. “James is charming and witty and nice to talk to.”

Robyn shook her head once more, frowning. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

You reached across the table for her hand and squeezed gently. “Me too.” You smiled slyly, remembering last night’s dinner and Timmons gushing about The Avengers. “If not, I know how to get ahold of a couple of centenarians who know chivalry isn’t dead.”

Chapter One | Chapter Three

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[unbridgeabledistances]

hi<3 okay i am finally writing the new kotss chapter, and once again here is a lil contemplative snippet of tumblr-drabble length as a preview for when i write the whole thing in a day or two!😌💜 (mostly bc i am feeling sleepy and sappy this morning about mickey’s growth and just. cannot get over it.)

hope u enjoy<3

--

He fucking loved the dog, okay?

When they were first waiting in that overly-bright room in the dog rescue center (or whatever the fuck it was called) with Ian sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of him, and Mickey had seen the bundle of fur with its paws hitting the ground, a scrawny puppy with a swollen belly and a protruding ribcage— he’d immediately known he was in trouble.

First, because there was no fucking way that Ian was going to let them leave this place without it, since he practically made heart-eyes the second the puppy stumbled its way over to him— and second, because Mickey was absolutely, totally sure that he was going to fuck this up. Even reading the fucking description on the website on Ian’s phone screen, “comes from a troubled past and needs a loving home,” made something twist in his gut— because how the fuck was Mickey supposed to provide something like that?

Mickey didn’t take care of shit like this, like fragile puppies or babies or anything he could mess up— and he especially didn’t let in anything more than he could handle losing, anything soft and helpless and innocent that he couldn’t let slip between his fingers on his own accord. He’d learned that shit early, when whatever whispers and soft traces of touches on his cheeks were ripped away by the pry of Terry’s calloused hands— when one day, when he was fifteen, he and Mandy and everyone else didn’t have a mom anymore. Losing his mom, losing his family after years on the road, even losing fucking Terry those now months ago; all of that shit compounded and pressed on the walls of his ribcage in a way that Mickey himself didn’t really understand, and apparently was oozing out of him in a fucking dog shelter as he stood there frozen, in the face of a helpless frame on wobbly legs with silky grey fur.

For some reason, even though he and Ian had been talking about the dog in the abstract for days now, something about seeing the dog scared him shitless— because taking care of shit was objectively scary, and Mickey was shit out of practice with it. He’d never been good, comfortable, at holding something fragile in his hands, something that he could mess up in a second with a slip of judgement. Mickey was great at getting shit done, but with something like this— well, honestly, he wasn’t sure if he trusted himself enough, to not make those split-second choices that Terry made, the ones that left cigarette burns on his sides and snapped his jaw out of place and left him with so many aching wounds that only became more dark and cavernous through the years.

I’m gonna fuck this up.

What if he got too mad and kicked the dog, what if he fed it the wrong shit and it withered away and became more frail than it already was, what if it ran away or got hit by a car or got fucking shot by a stray bullet in a shitty neighborhood? It felt scary to choose to care about something this fragile, to sign up for the loss and the ripping ache that would follow if Mickey overreacted or fucked something up or made a slip-second misstep. In the Milkovich family, loving was a liability— a promise that someone you cared about could get pummeled and bloodied and beaten in front of you, could get handcuffed and dragged upstate for months or years in the blink of an eye. When Mickey was fifteen, scratching “FUCK LOVE” and “STAY THE FUCK OUT” signs on pieces of cardboard with Sharpies he’d stolen from the dollar store, he’d made a promise to himself to harden himself against that weakness— against that loss.

And then, of course, freckle-faced chicken-legged Ian Gallagher showed up at his doorstep anyways.

So he’d let himself love Gallagher—and eventually he’d let himself love Franny after she plopped herself in his lap one day, wearing a princess tiara talking a mile a minute about monster trucks; and he didn’t even mind hanging out with Liam once in a while on those late nights in the Gallagher house, when Ian would be working a double shift and he and Liam flopped on opposite sides of the couch, watching shitty cartoons in a comfortable silence as the glow from the TV screen flickered on their faces.

But none of that felt like a choice—all of those people, those warm bodies to love, just fell into Mickey’s lap; so it wasn’t Mickey’s fault, really, if shit hit the fan. It wasn’t like he made the choice to love them in the first place— it just happened.

But adopting a dog (or having a fucking kid, like he knew Ian wanted)— that was a choice. That was telling something, someone, that you were ready to take care of them; that you were ready to lose everything when they inevitably got taken away, that you were ready to pour all of your fucked-up bullshit into someone and hope that you weren’t the reason why they turned out screwed up. It just seemed like too much; and in the face of the tiny fucking furball that Ian was cooing over as he sat cross-legged, Mickey’s immediate impulse was to keep his distance and tether himself into the linoleum floor miles away.

But of course Ian had done that fucking thing only he had the power to do, and melted whatever iron walls Mickey had soldered into place with a gentle Mick, d’you wanna pet her?— and of course the fucking dog had to nuzzle her goddamn tiny wet nose into Mickey’s hand, and give a too-trusting lick to his palm as she rolled over onto her back, exposing her vulnerable belly even after whatever fucking dog-fight bullshit she’d been through— and immediately Mickey couldn’t couldn’t see a timeline in which they didn’t wrap this fucking mutt up in a soft towel and take her home to the dog bed in their apartment and get her healthy on gourmet fucking dog food from a monogrammed tin bowl.

So even though it drove him fucking crazy that she was so fucking skinny, and the entire first night when she’d slept curled on the bed he kept waking up and googling the best dog foods and exercise regimens and refilling her water bowl at the kitchen sink like an obsessed fucking maniac— he really couldn’t help it.

Against every instinct, he’d chosen to love when he didn’t have to— and he was starting the realize that maybe that shit wasn’t a weakness.

**

“So, I hear you guys’ve got a new mascot.”

Tommy was ambling in the front door, right on the dot of their 2 P.M. opening time, with Kermit skittishly following a few paces behind him.

Ian rolled his eyes from behind the bar when he thought Mickey wasn’t looking (fucking traitor).

“Yeah, I think the whole neighborhood knows by now. Someone’s been a little too eager with the dog photos.”

Which— fuck that. So what if he fucking posted a few pictures of Baz to the mostly-defunct Alibi Facebook page that Kev had given them the login info to, some of which featured Baz wearing Mickey’s sunglasses when they were partway through a walk? Nobody needed to know that Mickey alone was behind that shit— Ian liked taking dog photos too, even though they were never as good as Mickey’s, and mostly just featured the moments Mickey was passed out on the couch with Baz sleeping on his chest.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Ian grinned and turned towards Mickey. “Nothin.’ Just nice to see that you’re growing into the whole dog parent thing. Though it is kind of turning into a stage mom thing.”

Mickey furrowed his brows. “Fuck you. The customers love her. It’s good for business.”

Ian held up his hands in surrender, still smirking—which just cause Mickey to shove him gently in his sternum.

“It’s not my fault Baz is the prettiest pit on the fucking Southside.”

In the corner of the bar, Baz was sitting on her cushion that they’d bought at a boujee pet store down the road, to keep downstairs at the Alibi so they could keep her other dog bed upstairs— and when Tommy and Kermit came into the room her ears immediately lifted, her tail twitching excitedly at the new faces. Tommy just gave a wary side-eyed glance to the dog pillow before plopping himself onto his usual stool, but Kermit nervously crouched beside the cushion and gave Baz’s chin a scratch.

“Ey! Paws off the princess until you drop some money on a beer, Kermit. I didn’t haul myself down to the empty bar on a Monday afternoon to watch you pet my fucking dog.”

Kermit shuffled to his usual seat beside Tommy at the end of the bar. “She’s cute. I didn’t realize pit bulls could be so scrawny.”

Baz was already filling out fast in the few days she’d been living with them; but it was true that she was still small and wiry for her age. Mickey made sure they got some sort of fresh dog food shit from the pet store that they had to keep in the refrigerator (even though Ian insisted kibble was fine, like a fucking cheapskate) to get her strength up, and he also got a bunch of fucking vitamins, like salmon oil and shit to make sure her coat was shiny—and yes, okay, maybe he also bought her a badass collar with spikes on it, and maybe he also dropped money on one of those engraved pet tags in the shape of a skull and crossbones that said “Bazooka Gallagher-Milkovich” on it with the Alibi’s address on it. He couldn’t fucking help it; they had a steady stream of cash coming in from crowded nights, they were planning on doing Ian’s karaoke shit once a month, and Mickey felt like they could afford to spend money on shit like this—like they could afford to do this right. And because of Mickey’s doting, even though Ian had started to take Baz for runs in the morning, it was no secret that she liked Mickey ever-so-slightly more than Ian; when they were laying in bed at night Baz would always hop up and curl into Mickey’s side and leave inches between her and Ian, causing a surprised chuckle to escape Mickey’s lips the first time it happened as he scratched behind her ears. Ian just stared at him, with some sappy fucking smile on his face.

“The fuck’re you looking at?”

“Nothing. Just glad we took her home.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, but felt a smile creeping onto his lips despite himself. “Yeah. Me too.”

“And I’m definitely not jealous of a dog right now.”

**

It was later in the evening and the bar was pretty empty, a standard for a Monday night— Mickey had been trying to train Baz to stay on her cushion now that she’d learned how to sit and lay down on command; much to the amusement of Tommy and Kermit, who kept fucking distracting her. If Mickey had his way, he’d train Baz to bark at Kermit whenever he said something stupid (the guy just got on his fucking nerves, what could he say)—but of course Baz had other plans once she realized Kermit was the one of the pair who would pet her, and kept nuzzling her head onto Kermit’s thigh and thumping her tail on the floor.

“I thought pit bulls were supposed to be vicious.”

“Fuck you, Kermit. That’s fucking… dog racist, or some shit.”

Kermit just meekly looked down at his half-empty beer glass, as Ian came in the front door from where he was bringing in the sandwich board from the curb, not expecting any more customers for the night. He reached down to ruffle Baz’s fur along the way.

“How’s our girl doing?”

“Pretty good. Once these assholes get out of here we can called it a night.”

Tommy scoffed at that. “Milkovich, we’re some of your most loyal customers— hell, we’re your only loyal customers. I think we deserve more than insults.”

“Oh yeah? You gonna go drink the day away somewhere else?”

Tommy faltered for a moment, and raised an eyebrow. “Touche.”

“Alright, bozos. Time to pack up. No one else is coming in tonight, we’ll see you tomorrow. Me and Ian have better shit to do.”

Tommy drained the last of his beer, placing a wad of one-dollar bills on the countertop and giving an exaggerated salute. “Until tomorrow, gentlemen.”

When they left the bar and the doors were locked, Ian’s shoulders started to shake with laughter. “Jesus. I never thought I’d be at a point in my life when I’m dependent on the consistent generosity of Tommy and Kermit, but here I am.”

“More like consistent alcoholism.”

Ian smirked, then flopped to sit on a barstool opposite the countertop from Mickey, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Are you fine taking Baz out? I’m kinda tired, wanna get a start on dinner.”

“Yeah, man. Works for me.”

They’d been living with each other in the Gallagher house for months, sure, but they were still new at doing this— at only accounting for each other’s schedules, at divvying up tasks like walking the dog and cooking dinner and doing fucking dishes rather than just coasting on someone like Debbie getting them by. Things were different now— things were settled and quiet, in a way that still made Mickey like he had to rub his eyes extra hard to clear them in the still, dark mornings in the apartment, like he wasn’t convinced this shit was real.

After dinner they sat cross-legged on their bed, watching a movie on Ian’s old beat-up laptop with Baz sitting between them and chewing on one of her toys that squeaked loudly every few seconds (this one was a stuffed animal in the shape of a police officer, because in Mickey’s own words at the pet store, “ACAB motherfucker”)— and later that night, wrapped in the smell of laundry soap on clean sheets and dog shampoo, Mickey slept easily.

Maybe this was something he could trust himself to hold on to.

[twstwonderlandstuff]

Sleep depravity

You feel like shit.

Flashback

Ahaha, the new year! A time for fun and festivities! Surely, that’s what YOU’RE going to be doing, right?

Wrong.

Well, I mean right, but it’s not fun by what most of NRC calls as. So imagine this, right, you’re sitting in yo damn class doing your damn shit when suddenly, your classmate whispers to you from behind.

“Hey.” You nudge an elbow, to show that you’re listening. 

“You should watch ‘Tales of the Seven Lords’. It’s a really good series.” You nod in thanks at the recommendation and your classmate retreats back to his seat. 

And the day goes on as usual: Running around campus doing your part-time jobs, occasionally talking to your friends and seniors, feeding Grim, appreciating how fine everybody looks today- pardon me.

So now, it’s bedtime and you’re there listening to Grim talk as you do your homework. Then, he says: “Oh yeah, someone said something about a recommendation, right?”

“Right, I forgot about that.” You nod, finishing your homework in time. “We should check that out to watch for New Years. It’s in a few days.” You sigh, bouncing your leg. 

See, unlike from where you’re from, NRC has a different curriculum, where the OFFICIAL tests come out somewhere in the 3rd and 9th month of the year, not the 6th and the 12th, so this is just cooldown time for you to kind of chill and relax. 

“Right, holidays~~~ We don’t need to listen to Vargas anymore!” Grim hums cheerfully, and you nod. He’s already loud and super annoying every time he meets a slightly muscular kid, but add THAT with him rambling about safety protocols? Nah, man, ya can’t.

"Ah yes, the holidays where everyone goes home and leaves us here to wail and stay all alone with nobody- I mean I got you but you know- nobody and probably have to clean the school.” You take a deep breath. “Lovely.”

"That annoying guy is going to do something like that...” Grim complains, rolling over to flop on your stomach. “I don’t wanna!”

“Same...” You reply lazily, fist bumping Grim’s paw. “Hahah... hah...”

Despite your complaining, you feel a little giddy. I mean, come on, you get the FUCK around the school, all day by yourselves! What’s not to love about that? And the series is sure to keep you entertained.

Flashback end.

‘That was a terrible, terrible thing to think about.’ You thought blearily, thoughts swirling around your head as Grim falls asleep on you, *heetos and dorr*tos all over your body, making you feel sticky and gross. 

It’s now the actual new years, where everybody’s gone home and like you predicted, Crowley did assign you to tasks- fucking bird, so you and Grim’s ass didn’t do what he told you. Fucking hell, the school’s been functioning DAMN well without you, surely the tasks not THAT big of a deal, right?

After goofing around for a few days, you’re getting bored, so you drag your lazy self to Sam’s store (where his friends from the other side are tending it for him) and rent out a DVD- Crowley didn’t gift you a phone, unfortunately (but still fixed that old TV set??? Man’s got some weird priorities)

You bring this news to Grim, who immediately begs and whines for you to open and watch the show. So you did.

The first episode, you were intrigued, but only a little bit. The same went for the 2nd and 3rd episode. You’re about to call it a lame series when you hit... the 4th episode.

It was a wild ride of emotions and wow... that scene where Henry helps the king really brought you and Grim to tears. 

You were hooked. Or in other words, you were fucked. Fucked because now, you can’t THINK of anything BUT the series, which forces you to stay at home and watch the entire god-damn thing and now its 2 days after that.

At... you blearily open your eyes and notice the cracks of light shining through the curtain. “Oh god...” At somewhere around 8 am in the morning.

“Fucking hell... I’ve gone and fucked up my sleep schedule... shit...” And for some reason, tears began running down your eyes. What the fuck? Are you THAT tired that’d you’d cry over your SLEEP SCHEDULE?

Yes. Yes, you are.

You hear a knock at the door. “Oh my fucking god.” You curse, rolling down the uneven wooden floors, wincing as you get splinters. You lethargically stand up  and open the door and look up to see...

HEARTSLABYUL

Someone 5 cm taller then you- oh screw off, you’re 145 cm, its okay to be pissed, you know?

“Happy new year, prefect-” You interrupt him.

“Oh.. you’re cute!” You grin gleefully, pinching the red hair’s cheeks.

“U-unhand me at once!” The guy with red hair shouted, forcibly taking your hands away. “Or its off with your head!”

"What, you’re gonna- you’re gonna tie me up~?” You tease, punching the guy’s shoulder. “That’s kinky dude... like tone down the horny ya know...”

2 guys with red-orange hair and other with blue starts laughing loudly in the background and you laugh too.

The guy with red hair STARTS turning red- oh my fucking god, people can turn red?

“OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!” And a collar winds up around your neck.

“Eh????” You ask, lightly tugging at the collar. “What the fackin hell is this shit? Y’all really out here puttin’ collars and shit on people... in the middle of the day too... wow...”  You mutter, slipping into a country accent.

Flash! You hear a snap of a camera and turn to look at another person with a feather duster on his head- why does he have a feather duster- you know what, its cute, and you like it. You reach up and begin petting it, effectively blocking the phone he’s holding.

“Eto, prefect? You’re kinda- woah!” You look at him with a glazy eyes from those 2 days of non stop watching.

"Are you a...” You ponder, biting your lip as you blink repeatedly. “Are you... a fuck boy?”

(“CATER’S A FUCK- CATER’S F-FUCK- AHAHAHAHA-” Ace wheezes in the background as Deuce starts laughing harder, neither of them caring that they have collars on their first day back.)

Fuck boy has a bewildered look on his face, but before you could see his reaction, another hand goes to tug you back. You look up and... is that... is that lettuce, you see? No no way, it... it kinda looks like broccoli, though..

“Let’s get you to bed, prefect.” The broccoli tells you firmly, but like hell are you listening to a broccoli! Fuck man, you got higher standards then that, come on!

“No! I’m not listening to a broccoli!” You duck, effectively pulling out of his grasp and ran inside to wherever room you’re in and slam it shut. “YOU’RE NEVER GETTING ME, BROCCOLI MAN!!!”

(”Bro---brocoll-” This time, it’s Deuce’s time to collectively pound weakly at the dirt, one hand holding onto Ace’s shoulder as he looses it.)

Eventually, you slump on the ground and slowly... you don’t hear the brocolli’s voice anymore.. which is good (but like, why does his voice sound so... sexy??? Like, why??? It doesn’t make any... sense...)

---

Ace and Deuce finish from their laughing stock, having to hold on to the third years to get up from their position. “We’ll go check on the prefect.” Deuce tried to say, a snort or two making its way to the sentence.

“HAH- KINKY- KINKY FUCK BOY BROCCOLI--- AHAHAHAHAHA-” Ace was still loosing it as he walked inside, a tear streaking down his face. “I love the prefect so fucking much.”

Laughter bubbles up against Deuce’s throat as he walks in. “F...Fuck...boy...”

“W-where is the prefect, anyway?” They immediately see you, slumped against the hallway, snoozing away. With their strong powers, they gently lift and place you on the sofa, amidst all the gunk and shit that’s piled up.

“Ew, what were they even doing?” Ace cringes, looking at the mess. “It smells like shit.”

“They’re watching ‘Tales of the Seven Lords’- oh.” Deuce nods, in extreme understanding. He too, has pulled all-nighters with his gang to watch this series... oh how they cried like mad.

“Oh, that show... it’s bad. I don’t like it.”

“What?!” Deuce swiftly turns around. “But its really good!”

“No, it’s not, what? You got some poor taste, Juice.”

“It’s Deuce, not Juice! And you’re the one with poor taste!”

They bicker all the way, until they’re lovingly threatened by Riddle to NOT say a word, or its way more then off with your head, got it~?

SAVANACLAW

An extremely good-looking lion man- lion man, the fuck???- who lazily looks around at your dorm. Behind him is an EVEN better looking man, this one with a very fluffy tail and BEEG ears and BEEG body and my god, wow... he also sexy- like, sexier then lion man.

“Furry?” You mutter, your eyes falling onto another boy with animal-like ears and tail, except he’s shorter then the two, but his eyes seem to have more light in them.

“Happy New Year, prefect~!” He cheers on, his small tail wagging- oh that is cute oh my fuck- oh shit-

“...what the fuck? Why the fuck are there furries?” You gasp in alarm, running your hands through your hair in a frantic manner. “HAVE I MISSED A FUCKING GENERATION OF FURRIES?!”

“NONONONO NO NO NO THERE’S NO FUCKING WAY- NO-” You scream, falling onto the floor and grabbing a piece of your hair.

A shadow seems to loom over you, and you can feel something fluffy- or maybe that’s just you. “Prefect, are you okay- not like I’m worried, or anything, but...?” That line seems like something you’ve heard, but from where?

“Has the herbivore lost their mind?” Sexy lion man can be heard asking in the back, his voice quickly slipping into a yawn.

“Are ya worried, Leona?” The smaller guy teases, a ‘shi shi shi’ going past his lips.

“Tch.”

Well they seem like good friends- nice.

“I’m fine-” You look up and BAM WOAH WHAT IS THAT- SOMEONE’S PANTS AREA THING NOPE-

“I’M NOT FINE FUCKKKKKKK!” You scream back. The guy jumps back.

“Prefect, are you possessed?”

“By this stage? I might as well fucking be- HAH!” And you snort at that- it’s not even funny, you moron. “Oh, and also sexy lion man- yeah I’m talking to you, yeah you-” You point at said man. “I’m not a herbivore, okay? Like, I’m not a vegan (NO OFFENSE TO THE VEGANS OUT THERE), umm...” You slip into a dramatic accent where everything becomes more pronounced.

“I’m a fucking omnivore, and if you wanna like, insult me, please do it right. Thanks.” You pose, your hands making a heart shape, before slumping onto strong boy’s arms.

“Pfft- AHAHAHAH-” And Ruggie’s gone and lost his shit, because what’d you expect, right?

Leona looks surprised, before becoming very irritated, dragging Ruggie by the scruff/neck and walking away, leaving Jack to deal with you.

His seniors out of earshot and eyeshot, he glances at your sleeping form, which was nuzzling up to him, sighing in bliss as the warmth surrounds you.

He lets out a snicker despite his best efforts not too. Goodness, you surprise him every day.

He easily brings you inside with a princess carry, making sure to respectfully touch only your legs and you back to support you.

He glances at your sleeping form- what on earth were you doing that could keep you up so late, anyways? Oh, he finds out by passing through the living room, TV still on.

He finds your bedroom and lays you down there, not bothering to bring Grim inside- just kidding, he absolutely brings Grim in because he knows how much you love each other, but you didn’t hear that from me~

He glances at your form again and brushes some hair out of your face. The steady rise and fall of your chest eases him. Maybe he should stay here, just in case you wake up and act like THAT again and that’s something he’s sure a lot of people aren’t ready to witness.

He takes a chair and sits in front of you, once again having his eyes trained on you, seeing he has nowhere to look at.

A content smile passes your lips, and he smiles at that. What kind of dreams are you having, he wonders? (Little did he know its about him)

Wait.

If he’s waiting for you like this, isn’t that what you usually do for friends?! He stands up immediately, regretting his actions just as fast as he notices you squirm, sighing in relief as you settle back down onto your dazed state again.

“Happy New Year, prefect. Let’s make more memories together.” He mutters lowly, far too low for you to hear but somehow, you smile at just the right moment.

He leaves quickly, a red blush adorning his cheeks. No, that does NOT make him happy in the slightest! His tail isn’t wagging, his ears aren’t red, you’re lying!

Right?

Wrong.

Yeah, right.

Oh, god damn you and making him so confused!

OCTAVINELLE

An incredibly good-looking gent, with a smile on his face that doesn’t look as nice as it should. And look, he’s got a fedora! That speaks fancy~

“Happy New Year, pre-” You take the fedora and slap it onto your head, to the surprise and subsequent irritation of this man.

Or octopus. Honestly, they radiate the same vibe, so you wouldn’t know.

Then, you began doing the Orange Justice (cringe) as you hum- “Mhph, then you break it down! Down! Down! High! Down!”

“Is shrimpy-chan okay?” Oh what the fuck he’s so tall- THERE’S ANOTHER ONE YOU’RE SEEING THINGS-

“Oya oya.” HE HAS ARA-ARA ENERGY OH MY GOD YOU CAN’T DEAL WITH THIS- NONONONONO-

“Ara ara? Ara ara ara~ ara ARA!” You reply in kind, switching to a weird boogie as you sing offkey about a song.

“Under the sea~~~ under the sea~~ something, something, du do do do, under the sea~ under the grass, and till they fall~ ahhhh!!!” You grab the gent’s hands and drag him to you, paying very close attention to your feet as you attempt to tap dance.

The gent splutters indigation, so you leave him be and focus on your feet.

“Ne, that sounds fun!” The 1st double says, following you to dance- except he’s doing way better then you.

“Wha- how the fuck- that’s good! How the fackkkk... fuck... fucking... fucking fucking wop wop!” You giggle, trying to imitate his dance.

“Hehe, shrimpy’s funny when they’re tired!” Double 1 says, grabbing your waist as you shout in fright.

“Jade, maybe we should-”

“Let them be, Azul.”

Upon closer inspection, you realize that this ‘Jade’ has resonating vibes with Sebastian from Black Butler- wait, is this the twin cliche?! Where there’s the crazy one and the other’s the sane one?! But then again, he has that scary smile on his face... hmm, maybe that theory should be left alone.

You, still Double 1′s arms, shout: “Come on butler man! Join us!!!”

“Butler... are you referring to me?” He sounds surprised.

“Yeee! Come on dude,let’s vibeeee-” You stop mumbling and began singing again. “Oh oh, I’m a rebel just for kicks now! OWAH!!!”

“Owah~~” Double 1 joins, and Jade with a grin, joins in. “Owah~”

“...owah...” The gent also joins, albeit in a softer tone.

“What else, shrimp- eh??? They’re asleep!” Floyd pouts as he gazes at your non-moving body. “No fun.”

“Oya, maybe we should bring them back to their couch. It looks like a nice place to be.” Jade remarks, looking at the pile of chips and snacks on the floor. Floyd shruges, dropping you with a thud, but you don’t seem to wake up. Jade picks you up for Floyd and brings you to the couch.

Azul cringes at the sight of messy chips. “It’s giving me heartburn just looking at it.”

“Don’t lie, Azul. We saw you eating the same thing yesterday~” Floyd teases, a wide grin placate on his face.

“...I could’ve sworn nobody saw me! How...” Azul mumbles to himself, a red flush on his face.

“They’re asleep. We should leave them be.” Jade suggests, walking back to the group.

Azul nods. “There’s nothing I can make a deal about, anyway. And, the benevolent sea witch wouldn’t agree with that, wouldn’t she?”

"Yeah! Goodnight, shrimpy!” Still, you don’t reply, but Floyd looks happy enough since he hoists Azul up from his stand and walks out with him, princess style.

“F-floyd, put me down!”

“Nah, Jade looked really happy holding Shrimpy, so I’ll do the same to you~”

“Floyd!”

Jade walks behind them, watching as they have their fun.

Did I really look that happy? He glances back at your living room and gives a rare, sincere smile to the dimly lit room.

“Goodnight, prefect. I hope to get along with you better.” He whispers to himself, before closing the door gently behind and catching up to his brother.

SCARABIA

Sunshine??? in the form of a... homo sapient???? and a snake??? why the fuck-???

“Happy New Year, prefect! I brought you some food, a few blankets and oh!” The sunshine greets, giving you things, which you don’t have the strength to take, but nod as thanks anyways. He hands you a carpet, incredibly soft, 100% quality. “A carpet- eh, prefect?! Are you okay?!” The sunshine fusses, grabbing your cheeks in worry.

You melt, easing into the touch. “I’m okay now.” You lazily reply, giving him a slow wink. “Haha, get it? Cause- cause you’re here, and you’re the sun, and you’re cute, so like... haha? No?” You don’t let him reply as you sigh and nod, taking his hands of your cheeks. “Alright.”

The sunshine grins at your attempt. “I don’t really know what you mean, but thanks!” Oh my god he’s so cute-

“...hopefully, these things can dress up your broken- er, rustic house.” The snake replies, watching your behavior with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

You son of a bitch-

“Look, snake-man. No no no no, look at me. Watashi no eyes, you look at eyes- you see my eyes?” You stalk towards the snake, squinting at the bright sun (2 suns) as you trudge towards him. “Y-you see? Yeah, these eyes have tried their FUCKING best to fix up this dorm, so please, bro, please don’t like, mock it cuz like-- it’s really fucking hard- and you know why?!”

“Why?” The sunshine questions, just as you hope (but for some reason, the snake has backed away and is guarding the sunshine. You wonder why.)

“Lemme tell you why- lemme tell you why. So, this bird-man bitch boy I don’t fucking know, right-” The snake sort of laughs at this description as sunshine nods. “This guy, right, leaves ALL this SHIT to me- like BITCH, did you see the fucking state of this... I don’t know, um, SHACK?!” You point aggressively at the house. “Yeah man, it was SHIT! Like, there were holes, rats on the ground, and there were a insects everywhere...” Oho, snake seems to tense up at this, walking towards sunshine in a scared manner.

“The wood was rotting, it smelled like mold... the couches were moldy, the BED was moldy... it was... it was FUCKING shit mate, like the fuck?! You expect me to clean up that shit in what, like...” You bring up your fingers, not even counting. “Three fucking days? Like what the fucking hell, bitch? I’d like to- to- to know what the fuck crossed his mind, like the fuck, you know?”

“That seems hard, prefect. Do you want us to help?” The sunshine offers, but the snake interjects, saying: “Kalim (oh, so his name is Kalim, huh? Cute name for a cute guy!), how many times do I have to tell you? Don’t-”

“But it looks like they’re having a really hard time!” Kalim argues, pouting and looking at you pitifully, and you give the snake a woeful mourning face. The snake glares at you, before sighing heavily. Ah, damn, you feel kind of bad.

“Nah, it’s okay sunshine, I can handle it. Oh, by the way, have ya seen my baby?” You say nonchalantly, describing your feline friend.

“Baby?” The snake pales. “You have a baby?!”

“Prefect, why do you have a baby?” The sunshine panics too, eyes widening, forgetting the nickname you gave him.

“Yeah, I do! Wanna see-” Slump! You fall onto the ground before you can finish your sentence, leaning across the snake’s legs.

“Oh... they’re probably talking about Grim...” Jamil realizes, sighing in relief at the thought.

“Oh yeah, that’s probably it! Hehe, we think alike, Jamil!” Kalim grins, much to the chagrin of Jamil.

“Yeah, yeah, we do. Now come on-” Jamil lifts up your body, princess style and grunts. “Help me open the door.”

“Sure thing!” Kalim hums, opening the door. “What do you think they were doing, looking so tired?”

Jamil shrugs, walking inside ASAP, first giving the dorm a quick sweep with his eyes- he isn’t quite sure how to feel about the bugs you said. They pass by the living room and upon seeing the disarray, nod in understanding.

“Kalim, can you clean it while I put the prefect back in their room?” Kalim nods and gets to work, rolling up his sleeves.

Jamil smiles, nodding as he walks towards your bedroom, opening it with his foot. Surprisingly, it looks WAY cleaner then your living room- you really did stay up all night to watch whatever show was on, huh? The bed isn’t even creased.

Jamil sets you down gently, and you immediately roll to the side, sighing in comfort. He watches as the crumbs of snacks fall onto the bed, and thanks the graces that its not Kalim’s, or his bed that got the food spilled, phew.

Speaking of Kalim, how is he faring? Jamil walks back to the living room, fully expecting to see Kalim get distracted, but much to his ACTUAL surprise, the room is a quarter cleaned. The crisps are thrown in the trash bin and the blankets are folded up, albeit not neatly.

Jamil smiles, a little bit proud of Kalim. “Kalim?”

“Here. Shh, not so loud. Grim’s sleeping.” Kalim whispers back, waving from the kitchen. “I’m trying to clean the dishes, but...”

“Here, let me teach you.” And so, they two do their best to help clean the living room until it’s up to Jamil’s standard.

“I bet they’ll feel surprised when they wake up!” Kalim giggles, happy that it’s clean.

“I hope so, it’ll be a waste if we did all this and they didn’t notice.” Jamil frowns, crossing his arms, satisfied. “I’m sure they liked the gifts, Kalim?”

“Really?! I didn’t go overboard, right?!” Kalim worries, looking at Jamil in concern.

“You always do.” Was Jamil’s snide remark.

“Jamil!” Kalim pouts, and Jamil nods.

“It’s true.”

“Aww... I thought I really... aww...” Kalim shakes his head, cheering up immediately. “There’s always next time! Let’s visit Heartslabyul next, Jamil!”

“Let’s go.” And Kalim rushes out, shouting a ‘Happy New Year!’ to the dorm, despite his previous warning. Jamil says nothing, echoing his behavior as they walk out.

(And it’s true. After 14 hours or so, you wake up, walked towards the living room, and cried the SHIT out of your eyes. It really was nice to see, you know?)

DIASOMNIA

 You can’t distinguish who the fuck this person is, but they’re definitely tall. 

“Who the fucking hell??? Is so fucking tall?” You ask in a whisper. “Hello?”

“Don’t talk to Malleus-sama that way, human!” A guy that looks similar to a cucumber yells. 

“Shut up, my guy. Oh shit, sorry I probably sound really fucking rude hah.” You snort, pinching the nose of your bridge. “Um, what can I do for you? Or something?”

“You look pale.” A softer voice comments. You turn to look at him and oh fucking HELL he looks so... soft??? Princely???

“Woah.” You breathe, grabbing his face. He quickly pushes you off, but you don’t mind. “What the fuck... Your face??? Is?? Nice???” 

“Thank... you...?” He says strangely, stepping away. “Da- LIlia-sama, I think we should leave. ___ doesn’t seem to feel well.”

“Nonsense, ___’s fine. It’s probably just lack of sleep.” You let out a bark at that. 

“Hah, lack of sleep. More like lack of heat!” You giggle at that- why did you giggle at that it literally makes no sense. You turn to look at this ‘Lilia’ person and holy shit, is that a d i l f ?

“...Dilf?” You mutter, stetching out your hand to touch this short emo man. “Emo???”

“What is a dlif?” Emo man’s face contorts into confusion, one that is not often seen in his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that phrase...”

“Dad’s I’d Like to Fuck, because damn bro, you look- you look like you raised hot kids and set them on a frying pan do you get me, cuz like you’re also sexy? I don’t... yeah.” You nod  heavily at your sentence. 

Emo man and prince-looking guy’s face contorts into a grin and a horrified look respectively. Tall man seems to have the same face as prince-looking guy, while Cucumber just... freezes. 

“Are y’all okay??? You know what, I don’t- I don’t have- I’m not- I’m- I’VE GOT THE APPLE BOTTOM JEANS, BOOTS- BUTTS- BUTTS WITH THE FURRR, THE WHOLE CLUB WAS LOOKING AT HER~” You break out into a song, changing your voice to a country accent. 

“SHE TOOK THE FLOOR AND GOT THE JEANS AND WENT LOW LOW LOW low low low low...” You sync in with the music, going lower to the beat until you lay your body on the ground and slowly lose sight (or blurry shapes) in front of you.

You don’t know what happens next, but you do know that someone’s riding a small cow. With big horns. And hair? With the bit of consciousness you have left, you reach up to touch the cow horns. 

“Sick...” You mutter, and your hands fall slack on the small cow’s horns and you finally fall into well-deserved sleep.

EXTRA

“Lilia.”

"SEE SILVER, I TOLD YOU THAT PEOPLE WOULD-”

“I DON’T NEED TO HEAR IT, DAD!”

“NONE OF US DO!”

“Lilia.”

“I- I’M A DILF- I- I’M A DILF- HAH, I’M- OW OW OW... ow.. my back... oh, yes... Malleus?”

“I’m bringing the human inside.”

“Sure..- argh, ow ow ow... Silver, Sebek, come help me!”

“Yes, old man...”

“...”

“Pfft... a dilf... a dilf....” Malleus snickers at your naming choices, lighting up candles that you’ve strategically set. Once the lights are on, he can’t help but squint at the messiness of your dorm. He walks past the living room and opens your simple bedroom door, placing you on your bed. You don’t seem to be unbetrubed, but you squeezing something in the air. Ah, perhaps you’re looking for the cat? 

Poof! Grim instantly nuzzles into you, and you both sign at the warm heat between you. Malleus smiles at the sight and leans closer to you, and whispers: “Happy New Year, child of man. Let’s make more memories together.” He gazes at your simple room, and his eyes falls at your bedside table. He smiles fondly at the picture on your bedside table. It’s you, Grim and him in Ramshackle’s living room, you making flower crown as you bitch on about physics, Grim agreeing and complaining as well. 

He gives you a small pet on the head and disappears in neon butterflies. 

“Shall we go?”

“Oh, young whisperer, you’re back. I take it ___ is back in their bedroom?”

A smile blooms on Malleus’ face. “Yes, now let’s go.”

“Dilf.. dilf...”

“I can’t... dilf... I can’t.. no...”

*

I don’t fucking know what this is

I just thought--- lilia... is a dad.... and he sexy

and memes... and i created this fic

please enjoy it

[rosy-wooyoung]

He needs someone | Park Seonghwa

Words count: 3.3k whoops Pairing: kindergarten teacher! reader x police officer!, single dad! Seonghwa Genre: F L U F F and a squint of angst once A/N: I tried my best, it’s a concept I had in mind for a while and I’m glad I managed to write something :’) I’m sorry in advance if you notice mistakes, English isn’t my first language but at least I tried, right? The gif isn’t mine as usual, all the credits go to the talented creator :)

The first day of the week was coming to an end and you were happy. You loved your job, really, it was a real pleasure to get up in the morning and take care of adorable children your students. They were nice, polite, you had to raise your voice from time to time for the order to come back, but it was rare. However, the past few days were more of a chore than a pleasure, because you were worried about one student in particular. His name was Haneul. He was a 5-year old boy full of energy, kindness and the politest of all your students. Already at his age, he was altruistic, always ready to play with others or help you tidy up things that weren't necessarily his. Despite his good attitude and politeness, you noticed that he was missing something, but you couldn't put your finger on it. Until one afternoon, when you left school, it struck you.

He was one of the few students who didn't have two parents. Yes, some had two mothers or two dads, or their divorced parents came to pick them up each in turn, but for Haneul, everything seemed different. It was always his father who came to pick him up or his grandmother, but it was very rare. You were beginning to question yourself, wondering if Haneul had a mother or other relative that took care of him except for his father. Perhaps his mother was seriously ill, or even dead. You had noticed several times where Haneul was in a bad mood, especially when you asked your students what they had done during the weekend. It was a ritual that you did every Monday morning and many children were talking about their parents. Haneul was always silent during these kinds of moments. Unable to give special treatment, you also asked him questions, especially about the toy cars he loved to take to school, and you tried to get him to talk about his father most of the time. You didn't want to make him uncomfortable or cry in front of the other students, so you carefully avoided the mom's subject.

You were in the school playground, chatting with another teacher to look after the children who were waiting for their parents. It was rush hour, everyone was out of work and the traffic was very heavy, which caused most of the delays for parents. When you noticed Haneul’s father, you excused yourself to your colleague, took the boy’s little hand and walked towards the man. You couldn't lie, his father is a charismatic man. Whenever he entered the yard, single mothers - and sometimes even some married women, in the presence of their husbands - stared at him. He exuded a certain class and a form of serenity which reassured everyone. Maybe it was his uniform that provided that kind of emotion. Yes, his father was a policeman. You have seen him repeatedly patrolling the city or your neighbourhood, even sometimes waiting for his son in his car. At first glance, his life seemed to be devoted to bringing order within the city, but really, it revolved solely around his son. His serious and distant mask fell every time his son ran into his arms or showed him a craft he did in class. He was also one of the few parents who wrote you a kind note for Christmas to thank you for your hard work and it touched you.

When you reached Haneul's father with him, a veil of concern crossed the eyes of the man standing in front of you. He seemed worried and had walked much less assuredly than the other times that you had seen him. "Good evening ma'am. Thanks for calling me. Has Haneul not behaved well?" He questioned as his son, oblivious to the situation, jumped into his arms, kissing his dad’s cheek. "No, your son is a remarkable little boy, full of goodwill and very polite, but there is a delicate subject that concerns him which I would like to talk with you if you would like." The policeman looked at his son and put him on the ground before nodding. "Haneul," he said, crouching down next to his son, "will you play with your friends for a while? I need to speak with your teacher for a few minutes, it won't be long, okay?" Haneul nodded without hesitation and left to replay with his friends, running towards them. "I'm listening," his voice was hesitant, but he tried to keep a neutral expression. "First, I want to tell you that you don't have to answer or take into account what I'm going to tell you, and this is by no means a psychological diagnosis, just an observation me, his teacher." He nodded, a sign for you to continue. "Well, I have a tradition every Monday morning of asking certain students to tell us about their weekend, it's mainly to encourage them to speak in front of others, but the more this discussion advances in the morning, the more I see your child withdrawing into himself, sometimes he's even on the verge of tears when one of his classmates mentions their mother."

The policeman didn't seem shocked by your statement, but your words didn't leave him indifferent. He said nothing but looked behind you, carefully avoiding your gaze. "I don't want to interfere in your private life, but I have always wondered if Haneul had another parental figure beside you because he looks like he wants one…" He sighed as your voice trailed. "But aside from this little detail, Haneul is a golden child, he's always ready to stop arguments or help me tidy up, his education is remarkable, it's also something I wanted to tell you." You were trying to save yourself from embarrassment, given his lack of reaction, and his smile returned when you complimented his son, but it was not as warm as usual. You knew that you had touched a sensitive point and you had decided to cut short the discussion to not make it more uncomfortable. He already seemed pained enough like that, so you motioned for Haneul to come back to his father. "I'm sorry officer, but I have a few more things to do in class, I wish you a very good evening." You smiled at him and he greeted you with a brief whim and an almost inaudible "thank you".

By putting away the last chairs, you deeply regretted your words. It was none of your business, but Haneul's situation gave your heart a twinge. You were thinking of a softer way to approach the subject again, but you could not find any other solution. You didn't sleep much that night, bitterly regretting the discussion.

What did you have to pry in things that were none of your business?

The two days following this discussion were painful because the policeman did not come to pick up Haneul, it was his grandmother. You were almost ready to ask Haneul for his address to go and apologize to his father. Thursday afternoon was finally the day he decided to reappear. When you saw him again, you rushed inside, leaving your colleague alone in the school playground. You pretended to put the tables and chairs back in their place if he looked through the windows. Wanting to give him enough time to leave, you filled the kettle with water and heated it on its base. "Can I speak to you?" A throat clears which startled you, almost making you drop the kettle. You turned around and found the policeman in the doorway. He was not wearing his uniform, but his aura of authority and confidence was still there. "Yes, but I-" "No, don't apologize." "Please, let me. I wanted to apologize, I got involved in things that were none of my business. I was so mad at myself that I haven't slept well for the last few days." "Yes, Haneul told me you weren't as energetic as usual, but don't worry about me. Your words had the effect of a cold shower and I believe it was necessary." He said with a soft smile, scratching the back of his neck. You nodded, gesturing him to take your chair as you sat on one of the tables, keeping a reasonable distance. "I thought my mother and I would be enough for Haneul's education. His... well, his mother left us when he was two years old. When we learnt that we were expecting a baby, we made an agreement together. I promised to reduce my time at work to take care of her and Haneul. However, nothing went according to plan and I ended up working almost twice more. I was terrified that I would not have enough money to support them and because I didn't keep my promise to my girlfriend, she left. I thought she was going to get away with the situation because she was very independent, but it was only after she left me that I realized that she needed me." He paused, allowing you to let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. "After your statement, I said to myself that I should try to get her back, even if the two of us wasn't going to work, we could at least try for Haneul, but it's too late. I saw her in the store where I regularly grocery shop. She was with another man and she seemed much happier and more radiant than when she was with me. I simply greeted her, but I couldn't see myself begging her to come back in front of her new boyfriend. I know I fucked up and I regret it now, but I don't know what else I can do." You got up and turned off the kettle, pouring the hot liquid into two cups. You handed him one and leaned against your desk. "I understand that you are in a difficult situation, but now it's too late to get your ex back, that is clear. She moved on but it’s human, you also did it by busying yourself at work, according to what you're telling me. She is certainly mad at you and that is normal, I also understand her reaction, but you must start looking elsewhere, or even around you." "I talked to Haneul about it, and he admitted he missed having a mom. But you know, there aren't many people out there who want to go out with a policeman, so if he also has a child, it's complicated. And I assure you, I tried, I really tried, but they all left as soon as I mentioned my son. Selfishly, I prefer that Haneul does not have a mother rather than having one who does not love him. I need someone who loves me and him." "I understand, he is a part of you. You know, it was just a statement, I never ordered you to look for someone, you must not misunderstand my words. If you feel that you and your mother are enough for the education of your son, then you must follow your gut. But I remain in my position that your little one needs a maternal figure. Otherwise, growing up, he will no longer distinguish his mother from his grandmother, since it will be the same figure, you see?" The discussion was coming to an end, but the officer didn't seem to ready to leave. His gaze was lost into the void and he sipped on his tea. Suddenly, he regained his senses, gulped the remaining of his cup and put it in the sink. He smiled at you and held out his hand for you to squeeze. "My name is Park Seonghwa. Officer Park Seonghwa. And thank you for being so kind to my son, he loves you and it's nice not having to fight to get him out of bed." You blushed at his compliments and squeezed his hand, his grip not as hard as you thought it was going to be. It was firm but had nothing dominant or aggressive. "Y/L/N Y/N, I'm glad your son is having fun coming here, I'm trying to do everything for it. " "And... thank you for listening to me, because you really didn't have to. I think I needed to tell someone neutral. You know, parents are never very objective,” he said, not letting go of your hand. "I'm glad to have helped you, officer... And again, sorry for my mistake, I was just worried about Haneul." "This is a closed matter now, Y/N, don't worry about it anymore. Have a safe trip back home. Good night." You smiled at him and saw him leave with Haneul. Through the window, he greeted you with a wave which you answered with a slight smile.

The weekend had finally arrived, and you wanted to go for a walk in the park. The heat of May allowed you to go out only wearing a big sweater above your casual dress, a light scarf protecting your throat from the light wind. You sat on a bench and took out a book, adjusting your sunglasses and crossing your legs. Later, a group of eight adults with a child settled under the weeping willow, located a few meters from you, in the grass. Your vision wasn't the best, you squinted because you seemed to recognize Haneul. He also seemed to have recognized you because he pulled the sleeve of a man you immediately acknowledged: Seonghwa. He looked up and smiled at you, his son pulling him in your direction. You put your book down and watched, amused by the situation. The rest of the group was looking either at the father or you, which made you bright red. Seonghwa crouched and whispered something in his son's ear. A smile lit up his face and sprinted towards your bench.

"Hi Haneul, how are you?" "Hello, Teacher! I’m okay!! You are alone?" He asked, tilting his small head. "Yes, I'm enjoying the nice weather." "Daddy would like to know if you want to come and join us..." You smiled at the kid and looked up at Seonghwa. He had a tender smile on his face and Haneul pulled you from your seat by grabbing your hand. You laughed and gathered your things, Haneul running to his father.

Seonghwa greeted you and introduced you to the rest of the group, his colleagues. You weren't sure how to behave since they represented the law, but they were all lovely with you. Some asked you questions about your job and Haneul, including a man named Hongjoong, who you learnt was Haneul's godfather, who seemed fascinated by your work. Another colleague, Mingi, was very interested since his sister also worked as a teacher, but in their hometown. The rest of the day went by without problems, the group of police officers quickly put you at ease, abandoning the formalities. Clouds had formed and began to hide the sun, abruptly ending this wonderful day. When Wooyoung felt the first drops of water fall on his skin, you all hurried to pack up and take refuge in their cars. Haneul hadn't followed his father, he had run with Yunho in his car. You were soaking from head to toe, your sweater nowhere to be seen, your dress sticking to your body. You just hoped that your underwear was not showing through the wet material.

"You're beautiful." Seonghwa's deep voice rang out in the car and made you faced him. His hair fell in front of his face, droplets soaking his white t-shirt. Unlike his uniform, it gave you a good overview of his shoulders and his muscular torso. His eyes never left you, something had changed in them. You smiled, a bit embarrassed, watching the rain trickle down the windows, suddenly being very hot. A hand grabbed your chin and your face was now very close to Seonghwa's, his eyes lost in yours. Your heart was pounding, you were sure he could hear it, but you couldn't look beyond his beautiful eyes. Not when you had such a handsome officer in front of you. "May I?" He whispered, almost out of breath, his gaze moving back and forth between your eyes and your mouth. His expression was very intense, you could only accept. When his lips met yours, the tension in your shoulders disappeared and fireworks exploded in your stomach. You responded to the kiss immediately, surprising yourself, but it was too hard to resist. His lips were as soft as if you were kissing a chocolate coulis. The kiss was warm, intense, but filled with tenderness.

To your great disappointment, this tender exchange was shortened by someone knocking on Seonghwa's window. Yunho was there, an amused smile on his lips. You stopped the kiss, quickly pulling you away from Seonghwa's arms. You hadn't even realized in the kiss that he had embraced you, pressing you even more against him. You tried to catch your breath and Seonghwa lowered the window, embarrassed to have been surprised by his colleague. "Am I disturbing something?" Yunho said, refraining from laughing. "What do you want?" Seonghwa dryly replied, not amused by the situation at all. "I'm coming to bring your son back to you, I think he was in the wrong car. But to see what you were doing; I think I'll bring it back to me." "Shut up and bring him up to the back,” Seonghwa ordered. You had found back the police officer, strict and distant, as when he came to pick up his son.

When Yunho had fastened Haneul’s seatbelt and closed the car door, Seonghwa started the car and brought you home without saying a word, just a few glances exchanged on the way as well as apologetic smiles. When your resident building came into your range of vision, disappointment stung your heart. "Thanks for driving me back." You muttered, unsure how to behave with the little one in the back. "No problem." Seonghwa smiled, glancing into the rear-view mirror. Haneul was soundly sleeping and the policeman seized this chance to quickly connect your lips. "Ha! I knew it! Daddy loves Teacher Y/N!" Haneul's frail voice rang out in the car, scaring you both. You hurried out of the car and Seonghwa mouthed you to call him later. You entered the hall without turning around and you heard the car leave. "Daddy, do you like Teacher Y/N?" "Yes, kind of. " "Does that mean she's going to be my mom?" "Only if you want it." Seonghwa watched his son's reaction as the car came to a red light. The child had a neutral face, but he suddenly smiled with all his teeth and looked at his father in the rear-view mirror. "Yes!"

[myelocin]

hello im BACK with a VENGEANCE (also bc ur rqs are open) can i please have sakusa kiyoomi (you hurt me with that angst fic), comfort song: Home by Miki Ratsula (you wont regret listening to it, its heartwarming) genre: fluffy take care!!

Hello!! Sorry this came out late, my brain was mad empty lmao + I’d like to note to thank you for all your kind words and responses!! ily alot ;A; thank u so much for reading my works <33

In The Process of Our Becoming

Sakusa Kiyoomi, You

Fluff! WC: 1k+

-

It starts in a grocery store. You would like to imagine for the circumstances of you and Sakusa’s first meeting to be a lot more romantic than just reaching for the last bottle of bleach simultaneously but that was how it happened. Kiyoomi, on the other hand liked to reminisce. Apparently you had a “good judgment of cleaning products and didn’t just get the cheapest thing on the shelf” and that was, according to his words, his “deal breaker” in a relationship.

From the start, the two of you bonded over the mundane parts of the adult life, but it was from another trip to the grocery store where you bumped into him in the cleaning aisle, again, and spent an adequate amount of time debating to yourself about which wipes to get—that Kiyoomi blurted out if you wanted to get dinner with him sometime.

“That’s weird.”, your friends told you, and you shrugged it off with a laugh. After all, it wasn’t every day that you’d meet a really cute, professional athlete at a random grocery store who asks you out while you’re just deciding which cleaning wipes to get.

And later on you decide that it was a good idea because under the mask he wore, he smiled pretty. Sakusa Kiyoomi could hold a conversation pretty well for someone who posed pretty blankly for his media appearances, you mused.  

You roll your eyes every time he reminisces the story from the grocery store, but he knows you love listening to him tell the same exact story the very next day.

-

Sakusa Kiyoomi hates crowds. Oh god, he loathed crowds.

Though, over the years he had managed to somehow tolerate them; considering how inevitable it was to be in crowds because of his career, after all.

Before you started to become a little more involved with his career, Sakusa would usually be the first to retreat to the locker rooms first to avoid the swarm of media after games. His team was understanding enough to let him be, so he supposed they never minded much of it.

Knowing that by the time you attended his third game, it came as a surprise when from the stands you saw Sakusa’s eyes wander around the bleachers until it eventually landed on you. Your relationship with the athlete at that time had still been fairly new and kept away from the media, so when he pulled down his mask and shot a smile that you knew was meant for you, it caught you more off guard.

“I thought you didn’t like crowds.” You told him after, and he shrugged and slipped his mask back on replying, “You were there so it’s not as bad now.”

-

There were many things about Sakusa you know you’re still not aware of, and vice versa. Even two years into the relationship, there are still mornings where you’d ask him how he prefers his coffee, while there are afternoons where he’d call you from the grocery store because he didn’t know which cereal you preferred.

“You should have known more about him by now.” Your friends mused when you couldn’t settle on picking a gift for his birthday (the fact that he wasn’t very vocal about the material things he wanted didn’t help much either).

And at first, that thought bothered you, so during one morning when you wake up to Sakusa’s fingers threading into your own, you turn to face him and try to think of every fact you know about him. Inwardly, you grimace because you realize you don’t know much, so when he turns to face you, you say, “I don’t know a lot about you. I’m sorry.”

“I overheard you talking to your friends about the present the other day, by the way. Is that what this is about?” He turns to you to ask, his fingers still threaded with yours.

You settle your head against his chest and listen to him speak, “I don’t know a lot about you either, but we’re still getting there, (y/n).”

He moves to turn to his side, supporting his weight with one arm while he faces you, “I know you hate spicy food and listen to Home by Miki Ratsula as a comfort song. I know your birthday, blood type, and biscuit preference now—“ he pauses to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear before continuing, “—but I still don’t know every childhood story you have. I don’t know what makes you still cry when you watch Ghibli movies even if you watched it twenty times already, but I’m going to know those reasons one day.”

You blame the fact that you just woke up that you’re feeling a little choked up, but Sakusa says, “But I do know you’re about to say that you want to cry right now because I know the fact that you’re a sentimental person. I know you like forehead kisses and like it when I hold your hand if we’re in Tokyo station—“

“Because I know you hate how crowded it gets during rush hour, Yoomi.” You cut him off, smiling.

“Yeah, you do.” He says, dark eyes looking soft in six am light.

Sakusa reaches forward and encages you in his arms with a kiss to the forehead and a quiet mumble of a good morning.

So for that morning you let yourself lay flush against his warmth with his words still echoing in your ears. And you suppose Sakusa is right. Two years was only a number against the lifetimes you know would be witness to the story you are writing with him.

And as much as you cringe at how your story began in the cleaning supplies aisle of the local grocery store, you know that there is no end. For every day that you wake up with his fingers threaded with yours, hear his morning voice break through the morning silence, and feel his lips press flush against yours, is another page written where you learn, explore, and fall in love with Sakusa Kiyoomi.

[goldeneyedgirl]

TwiFicMas20 Christmas Eve: All These Broken Things

... Is it really the end of FicMas if I haven’t posted something from All These Broken Things? I think not. The first sections can be found here and here. This is the fic where Alice travelled with James and doesn’t meet the Cullens until that baseball game. 

It's very strange finally being with the family she was always destined to be with, when she thought she had lost them so long ago.

She finds great satisfaction just watching them - Emmett yelling at the sports on the television; Edward perched at the piano, Rosalie working on her cars. She hovers, like a little ghost, folded into corners and against doorframes, vanishing the second they might acknowledge her.

Esme seems to like her company, as she goes about day-to-day things, chatting away to the silent girl with the enormous, sad black eyes, who trails after her like a stray.

She stays away from Carlisle, trying to avoid the moment he declares her to be cast out, too far gone for them to redeem.

And she stays away from Jasper, because it hurts too much. She doesn't tell Jasper what she knows, what they were meant to be to one another. The past is gone, and she has been broken into too many pieces. He watches her like a hawk, and without words, she knows he will be the one to destroy her if she steps out of line. His hands will crack her limbs apart and he will not flinch or feel any loss.

She wonders if she should tell him that if he was the to destroy her, she would not fight it. She would part in his hands like a paper doll, and hold no ill will to him for such an act.

Sometimes, she lets herself remember the old visions, the ones where they were everything to one another. Only when Edward's away, though; she doesn't like him rifling around in her head. No one deserves being forced to see some of those things.

And it hurts, a raw wound in her heart, that she was meant for something else, for happiness and peace and love, instead of what she was dealt in life. One of her greatest unanswered questions is why? What unforgivable thing did she do in her forgotten human past that earned such a punishment?

Then she remembers what she has done at James’ side for so many decades, at the faces and the screams and the suffering, and somehow she lived her crimes and her penance at the same time.

So she continues to pretend she doesn’t notice that Edward keeps Bella away from the house; that Emmett or Jasper hover in the background as she trails after Esme, as she watches Rose. That she can only go hunting when Jasper and Emmett can go along too; the ones strong enough and fast enough to restrain her.

When Edward does bring Bella back to the house at Esme’s insistence, she sits on the opposite side of the room, and listens to the conversation, keeping still and silent.

When Carlisle arrives home from work, she focuses on the magazine or book she has found, pretending to be absorbed by the glossy pictures, still and silent, to not notice as he studies her with patience she isn’t sure is genuine.

When Jasper joins Emmett for something noisy and angry on the television, their gazes occasionally sliding towards her, she is frozen in place, her gaze out the window.

She’s played this game before. Be good and quiet and still. The blow will come, eventually, but at least she can prepare herself for it, brace herself for the inevitable fall. They don’t trust her.

She doesn’t trust her, either.

Six.

They settle into a sort of routine.

She’s allowed to hunt with Esme and Rosalie now, though she’s careful to keep her distance, to trek a little further into the forest, to reassure them. She usually waits until they call her back.

She is always carefully supervised during their hunts, and finally, finally, the cracks James left across her nose and cheeks have finally faded away. They hunt too often for her, and when she forces herself to finish the animal, she vomits everywhere. She says nothing, but she feels safer a little hungry, her eyes black rather than a strange gold-orange.

Edward lets her sit beside him when he plays the piano, tells her about each of the pieces of music. He tries to teach her once, attempts to guide her hands into position, but she panics and jerks away, and he doesn’t offer again.

Emmett is nice to her. He seems to understand not to come up behind her without warning, not to touch. Sometimes she perches on the end of the couch and watches the television with him. She doesn’t stay very long, but he always gives her a big smile when she leaves, as if he’s had a wonderful time.

She doesn’t understand Emmett, but she thinks she could like him.

Rosalie can’t seem to decide whom she dislikes more – her or Bella - and she’s sure that Rose is going to get whiplash from changing her mind about both of them so many times. But Rose addresses her and is reasonably civil, mostly out of some kind of misguided caution that she is some kind of threat, and that is some kind of progress.

She and Bella have few words to say to each other. ‘Sorry I helped someone attempt to torture and exsanguinate you’ isn’t something she can work out how to say out-loud and have it sound genuine. Mostly because the truth is closer to, ‘I’m sorry you found yourself in this situation, but I don’t regret my choices. The consequences for me would have been much, much worse than you can ever comprehend. Your fragile mortality would have spared you of the worst of it. I’d make the same decision one hundred times in a row without a second thought.’

She’s certain that would upset everyone.

Bella seems rather reluctant to spent time in her presence, and she does wonder if that’s because she’s the side of the coin that isn’t beauty-wealth-love. She’s the side of suffering, of pain and of misery, murder and regret. Bella wants perfection, wants the glamour and magic of the Cullens, and none of the honest truth of being a vampire.

But it’s probably the murder attempt.

Then there are things that haven’t changed since she arrived. She’s not allowed to be alone, or to leave the house aside from hunting – even then, she has to be accompanied.

But every single day, James is still gone and she is still here. And there will never be a time when that knowledge is not sweet.

//

Her wardrobe is limited - a few old t shirts that once belonged to Esme and are too big, her worn jeans and the filthy, stained cardigan that she had when they found her. Her thin knees have long since torn through her pants, and the cardigan's sleeves are frayed and holey, but she is clean and free.

And then she is deemed in control enough to go shopping. Esme approaches her with the idea, with glossy magazines and gentle suggestions. It is an idea that has even intrigues Rosalie enough for her to join them.

They clearly still think she is a risk, though, because it is a family outing, with looks of such boredom and long-suffering on the faces of the male Cullens when it is decided, that she laughs softly behind her hand.

The building they take her to is huge and full of people. It is like a blow to the face, of blood and scent, and she visibly recoils from it at first, unsure and on edge. And they are patient, escorting her in, with encouraging words.

Eventually, though, they show her the clothes and the sight of the racks is enough to distract her from the heady scent. It is overwhelming, the colours and fabrics and styles, and she simply stares, with Emmett laughing at her stunned expression.

Esme is so kind, guiding her gently through the racks, telling her to choose anything she likes. She is careful, though, picking new jeans, a new cardigan, soft and clean and sunshine yellow. Esme helps her pick shoes out - the first pair she's had in decades. Soft brown winter boots, black sneakers, gold and black flats that make her feel like a princess. At her childlike delight with her fancy shoes, Esme buys her a black sundress with ties at the back and bows on the straps, that will bare her arms and triangles of flesh on her back.

Underwear is a strange concept. It's nothing that she has ever bothered with before. She is useless in the wake of so many choices, and let's Esme and Rosalie choose what she needs, dress her like a doll, whilst she amuses herself with how clearly uncomfortable both Jasper and Edward are in such a department.

She almost feels pretty – even desirable - in the plain cotton that make her skinny frame look almost womanly. She’s too embarrassed to even try on the satin and lace sets Rosalie has chosen. They aren’t for girls like her – girls that wear those things are more than she will ever be – prettier, sweeter, bolder. They are too much, and when she refuses, she doesn’t understand the look Rosalie and Esme exchange, Rosalie looking sly and Esme with an expression of warning.

Afterwards, they look for other things. The books hold little interest for her, as do the endless electronics. She doesn’t mean to wander off, but a demonstration by the art supplies store catches her eye, and she stands a little away from the crowd, watching the man draw. It is Esme and Jasper who find her, both looking alarmed, but she pretends she doesn’t see them, her gaze focused on the pencil that so carefully makes its way across the page.

“Alice,” Esme is at her side. “You scared us.” Her smile is bright, but her eyes worried – what would the Cullens do if she attacked in a place like this, with so many eyes? She doesn’t get to ponder that thought much longer, as Jasper’s hand closes over her shoulder and she is guided away.

For the rest of the afternoon, Jasper is her ominous shadow, as she dutifully trails after them.

She doesn't have her own room, but she doesn’t truly need one. Until now, she hasn’t had any possessions to store, and she doesn’t require the privacy a mated couple does. But, she has found she likes the attic. Full of things that need repairs or to be stored, it is a mad tea party of furniture and items.

There’s an old grey chair is missing a leg, and has an ugly stain that not even Esme could draw out that she likes. She folds herself into it, and she feels safe in that little corner, with the narrow window that overlooks the forest and spills in afternoon light. There's an old dresser up there, too, so that's where she arranges her new things, carefully folding and smoothing them into each drawer, precisely and lovingly.

Rosalie brings her some cosmetics and half a glass bottle of perfume – the bottle is shaped like an egg and etched with tiny flowers and curlicues and it is so delicate and beautiful, she is frightened to hold it. Rosalie watches as she sprays the scent into the air, the delighted look at the scent of flowers. She is nervous at Rosalie’s gesture, but grateful. Grateful enough that she allows Rosalie to cut the matted ends of her hair off into a neat, shorter style.

It makes her look more delicate, younger, maybe sweeter, she thinks as she strokes the strands in the mirror. And less like a roving maniac, at least according to the shiny-haired Rosalie, who watches her with satisfaction in her eyes.

She should be offended, but there’s this tiny hope that maybe, just maybe, Rosalie is turning her into something new. Something good and better.

Something like a sister.

//

It’s Esme’s idea to invite Bella around the evening of her birthday. Just a family gathering, with a few simple gifts. Everyone sort of agrees, and try to work out what to give the sullen girl.

She manages a portrait of Bella and Edward seated together at the piano that Esme gushes over, and has framed.

There have been some hints, from Carlisle and Edward that she will have to attend school eventually. She doesn’t understand that, but is just waiting for them all to graduate. They’ll leave when they’ve graduated and she won’t have to worry about school again.

She arranges peonies on the piano for Bella, upon Esme’s request, and is reminded of her old, fragmented vision of blood and glass. But nothing comes to her; the future is clear and her mind has decided to play tricks on her again.

Or perhaps her mind is the best part of her, the gentle warning she ignored becoming obvious as soon as Bella’s finger slips against the wrapping paper. Jasper’s eyes blacken as soon as Bella’s flesh parts and the blood beads, and suddenly he is lunging. She sees it in an instant, Bella’s crumpled body in his grip and Edward’s howls and the house of the Cullens irreversibly fallen. She sees an endless parade of James’ victims, broken and dead in Bella’s blank eyes.

She sees the horror and the guilt in Jasper’s eyes, sees the vastness of Mexico and the rise of a monster born of regret and impulse.

It is over before he even moves, decision made, and she has to stop this.

The shriek startles them all, coming from her mouth as she darts in front of him.

In another life, the flavour of her desperation and fear would be enough for him to pause, to grasp wildly at his resistance. Instead, he throws her aside, her body crashing through the front windows in a rain of wood and glass, leaving an imprint of her body in the flowerbed outside.

She picks herself up out of the flower bed as Emmett and Rosalie drag Jasper bodily from the house, Esme close behind them. Their eyes are all pitch black; a harmless paper cut did not cause this reaction.

“She cut open her arm,” is Emmett’s grim explanation as Jasper’s struggles slow, his eyes firmly on the door of the house.

“It was an accident,” Esme adds, shame in every line of her stance.

“Alice seemed to know,” Rosalie murmurs, her eyes still on Jasper.

She will never understand Rosalie, why she always needs to assign blame, to identify the victim and the antagonist. She ignores the statement, even as they all swing to look at her, as she examines her shoulder. Jasper didn’t hit her hard enough for cracks to form, but it doesn’t look like it’s properly aligned.

When she does look up again, she can see it in all their eyes – did she let this happen on purpose? Does she hold some ugly vendetta against poor, sweet Bella?

She did help James …

She’s surprised – she thought it would be Edward that came after her, later, to criticise and punish her for the limitations on her faulty gift. He still might – he hasn’t decided properly, too focused on patching up Bella.

But it’s Jasper, wrenching out of Rosalie and Emmett’s grasp, with murder in his eyes and the target on her.

He doesn’t yell, but his words are poisonous, nasty and accusing. She flinches, Esme gasps and even Emmett tries to get him to stop. Some of them, she knows, aren’t meant for her. They are frustration, humiliation and disappointment directed at himself, at his own weakness.

But when she instinctively backs away, and he grabs her wrist, and she lets out a tiny cry of fear; it is Rosalie who comes to her rescue, who snarls and yells and pries his iron grip from her.

“I don’t care how pissed you are, you don’t touch her like that.”

The words seem to echo, and Carlisle, Edward and Bella are watching from the front door.

Her apology is stammered, weak in the sudden silence, her insistence that she didn’t know sounding bewildered and feeble as she darts away, into the forest to pick glass and wood out of her hair and wonder just how many other warnings she’s missed.

//

[lotus-baby]

hey val! do u have any hcs about zetsu and his relationships/thoughts on the other akatsuki members?

yes 👉👈 *500 words of jargon*

pain - white zetsu likes him, he’s a patient leader which is big to him because so many of the akatsuki members (including the one he shares a body with) get mad at him for dawdling. black zetsu think’s peins god thing is cute bcz he knows ‘real gods’, but otherwise neutral. sometimes wonders if the paths are pickle equivalent.

konan - they kinda have beef ngl... konan’s only in the akatsuki because pein is there and she does Not like to listen to orders from ‘madara’. he’s really conflicted: it seriously inconveniences black zetsu but white zetsu thinks it’s funny because one person with no special kekkai genkai or anything is threatening to tip the cohesiveness of akatsuki just with the Power Of Friendship because she’s close to nagato. but also sometimes when they’re all bored they’ll have lengthy gardening discussions bcz roses = plants, shared hobby??

deidara - black zetsu’s w/ sasori on the expecting deidara to die. also he’s the oldest member of the akatsuki and deidara’s the youngest and he gets a ‘the kids are into arson these days’ vibe. i think white zetsu likes him more because him and deidara were pretty friendly with each other during the 4th shinobi war arc. white zetsu will stick up for deidaras art sometimes if there’s ever competition between the artists. pretty sure deidara thinks white zetsu is a dweeb though because of similarity to tobi 

sasori - this was rlly hard 4 no reason omg.. he probably considers sasori one of the better members, because he contributes so much to the organization w/ his spy network and stuff. i feel like him and black zetsu could potentially nerd out together abt poisons and relate to being stuck with guys that are way chattier than is preferred. work friends, most likely

itachi - itachi’s important to zetsu because of his role in the plot and stuff but he doesn’t think too much about itachi outside of akatsuki business, plus they don’t trust each other at all. zetsu maintains his distance because he knows about all the op sharingan moves and he doesn’t want to die, itachi’s always on edge because he’s pretty sure zetsu is reporting his actions to madara. spyception = double agent spy (itachi) spying on other double agent spy (zetsu) who is spying on the first double agent. 

kisame - a little bit of jealousy tbh. they’re both offputting and inhuman appearance-wise but kisame is more likeable and white zetsu’s not sure what he’s missing. kisame’s also one of the first few members so they’ll chat for old times sake. ‘it’s a philosophy: the weak are meat the strong eat’ ‘most things can be meat... as long as they have animal-like flesh. maybe not me, but you...’ ‘actually zetsu i forgot i have stamina training with itachi today goodbye sorry.’

kakuzu - old loner solidarity... i hc that black zetsu when chatting, will reference  bygone events because he thinks it makes him look sophisticated (no lol). only kakuzu really gets them, so zetsu and him can have actual casual conversations where they both understand each other. but also kakuzu’s not usually in a talking mood and neither is black zetsu so even if the two rlly wanted to be friends i don’t think they are that close. but they’ll go for drinks and cards and consuming hearts every so and so.

hidan - killing murder? good. wasting food? :// white zetsu gets kind of disturbed with how hidan enjoys pain because he’s tried dying too, and it wasn’t fun. black zetsu thinks hidan is supremely entertaining even if he doesn’t help any plans. he doesn’t believe a word hidan says either he just thinks its fun to check in on the resident fucked up guy every once in a while and see what’s cooking. ‘society isnt ready to hear this but evisceration is good. healthy, even’. cue flytrap cackling.

tobito - while black zetsu doesn’t really care about him, white zetsu and tobi are cool. they’ve lived in the cave together for a decade and they’re pretty much like siblings who hate each other now. like obito yelled at shiro daily in the cave era and they know they can’t trust each other but tobi’s still gonna ask zetsu for a snack from the store when goes out and zetsu’s still gonna get it for him, and white zetsu spoke up for tobi on joining akatsuki .. just frenemy things!

[ubemango]

commission 4: slow burn/best friends/college au w/  jin

(+or: we’re best friends and you’re literally So Great and i suck at knowing what i want but anyway i’m starting to think i like you ??????? au)

note 1: For my very very sweet and understanding friend @yeuj​ who helped me out when I needed it most .... I hope you enjoy 🥺🥺💕!!!!!! And thank you to Micah + Clove for helping me with my questions—thank you for your thoughtfulness, insight, and love!!!!! 🌷🌷🌷

note 2: I tried to make ramen-making as unboring as possible but it really is just....water and spice. If you’re confused about eating ramen at convenience stores please search that up on Youtube, I’ve exhausted my link resource skills (except for when I want you to listen to songs.) Also, the songs I mention are titanic/the end by cehryl and Subside by Eloise. I actually listened to Sweet Night on repeat while writing this so if u wanna listen to that... ;_;

note 3: everything about this story is in medias res. I realized I had no proper beginning or conclusion and I didn’t wanna change the flow of the story by concretely adding one or the other... so if the story feels incomplete/fragmented then please understand that this was a conscious and intentional decision done on my part :,) It’s slow burn!!!! I Love you ha ha!!

(i)

The library is open twenty four hours. The convenience store in the student centre is not.

“Please use your car,” you assert.

Seokjin huffs. “Then pay for my gas.”

It’s an empty threat. He’s got no business driving hard bargains when he has capital in the form of a rich CEO dad. He ignores your glaring, calmly closing his laptop, shoving it into his bag. Closing up shop after a derivative crisis you’d called him up for because he lives on campus, plus he never sleeps early. You appreciate that he gives into you so easily.

“Fine.”

So you go, searching for a convenience store that has those instant noodles you suddenly came up with a craving for this late at night. Seokjin’s used to it by now. You get things done when you want to, even if it means making a home of the pillowy chairs in the library you’d claimed for studying purposes.

The mathematical theory of chaos. You don’t want to think about it, and you click your seatbelt with a yell, throw your bag in the backseat with as much strength your anger allows for. “I hate school!”

“Please don’t scream in the car.”

“I hate it!”

Seokjin slots the key in. “Can you look up where the convenience store is?”

He tosses you his phone to unlock. You jab at the screen with more grumbling and colourful cursing, pulling up whatever Google Maps says is the nearest store open.

“Plug in the AUX cord,” Seokjin urges next. He merges into traffic, which is really only one car and the late night bus. A quiet night for your suffering.

“Can I play my—“

“Nope.” You sneer. Tapping open his playlists, you pass under orange lamp post after orange lamp post and scroll in silence before Seokjin groans. “I made a new playlist, pick that one.”

“What’s it called?”

You can see that he’s stiffened up. You don’t comment. “The one with the three heart emojis.”

Simple enough. You don’t care to sift through the songs, and the first one plays with one more indulgent tap of the screen.

Why don’t you tell her? I think you should. You know how you’re feeling, you can’t fight the truth…

Google interrupts the soft voice with the indication of the next right. Seokjin eases on the gas pedal. You watch him nod his head to the softness of the stereo. “I can’t pay for your gas.”

“I know you can’t.”

“I can pay for your ramen,” you suggest. Seokjin makes a quiet noise, like he’s amused by your generosity, or maybe he just thinks you’re dumb. You think it’s the latter.

“I don’t want you to pay for my ramen.”

“Then what do you want?”

The lamp post light striking Seokjin’s face gives way to the harsh red of the stoplight. In the stillness, he sends you a hard look. It makes you feel weirdly vulnerable, like he’s stripped you bare.

To make things worse, Seokjin says:

“Nothing you don’t want to give me.”

He doesn’t heed your confusion because he presses on the gas, looks straight ahead. You do too, and you try not to contemplate the cool brevity of his attention you suddenly want back. You push your uncertainty aside.

(He has a handsome face, you think.)

Seokjin interrupts, “So why’d you wait till now to study?”

“You know me.” Procrastination. The complete and utter mistake of underestimating the allotted time needed to get a successful grasp of concepts for your midterm. In not so convoluted terms, this class sucks ass.

“Yeah but that was—a lot of notes.”

It was. You probably pushed five weeks of material in the span of three hours. You can feel the very tips of your nervous system frying up as you pass through gas station-lit intersections. But there’s a real answer to his question, and you have the intense need to curl in on yourself in this leather seat.

“Well I would have started yesterday, but I was busy,” you counter.

“With what?”

“So you know Hyukjae from Psych?”

Seokjin pauses to listen to Google’s instructions, and immediately makes a left onto another main intersection. “Sure.”

“We went out yesterday,” you admit.

He hums a tight sound, tapping on the wheel. “Hm. How’d it go?”

It wasn’t bad. You shared butter tarts and laughed at his anecdotes and Hyukjae-from-Psych paid for your Uber home. He gave you a very weak hug before you slipped into the car. It was in that seat you’d decided you wouldn’t be sending him an I had fun! text that night.

“It was okay. Like, nice to me and stuff. But nothing…”

“…Worth revisiting.”

“Sure,” you mimic, and you wonder why he’s right.

“The guy’s okay,” he says. Almost like it’s with relief. “It’s—not to sound rude, but. Uh. I think it’s, uh—good. That you weren’t… interested.”

You think he’s gripping the steering wheel a little too tight. “Why?”

“Can’t trust guys with bad handshakes.” Seokjin chances a glance at you, and laughs at the confused scrunch of your eyebrows. “I met him during that networking conference in third year. Limp-wristed me. Like a chump.”

“Ew.” You can’t say he’s wrong. That hug Hyukjae gave you really was weak. The dude has noodles for arms. “But yeah, I guess you’re right. Wasn’t really my type.”

“Hm,” is all Seokjin comes up with. You watch him pass right through the turn Google tells him to take. “Oh shit. Sorry. I’m just. Thinking. About… limp… men.”

You snort. “What?”

“Like a man. A limp man. Hyukjae. Not me,” he clarifies fast—proudly— “just. Anyway! Back to you saying what your type was.”

“I wasn’t,” you accuse.

“Yeah well now I’m asking because I don’t wanna think about limp men. Your type, please.”

He sounds weirdly inquisitive. Demanding, almost. You chalk it up to the near-delirium of being awake past 1AM.

“I—don’t know,” you start. Somehow you feel like you’re messing something up. “He was kind, I like… kind. And soft. Sweet. You know Kim Taehyung? From Neuro? Like, almost big shoulders but not really. I like big shoulders. Yeah. Guys like Kim Taehyung-ish.”

Seokjin just hums again. There’s another song playing, and you don’t know how many you’ve rotated through in this playlist. You didn’t think it’d take this long to get to the store.

Google says it’s just two minutes away now. Seokjin says, “Cool,” and then sings along to the stereo.

You got me losing sleep over you… I usually sit still but now I can’t help but move… When I see you, I don’t know what to do…

(ii)

“Spicy or not spicy?”

“Whatever keeps my stomach lining intact,” Seokjin says.

You don’t say anything more and grab two of whatever ramen packaging isn’t scarily red. The convenience store is void of any customers, and the cashier rings you up with a very sour face for interrupting the show he’s got playing on his phone. His face shrivels up even more because all you can pay with is coins. Seokjin laughs behind you when you apologize for clattering the dimes too harshly on the counter.

“Enjoy,” the cashier announces, and he doesn’t mean it one bit.

The hot water machine at the back is a very intimidating thing next to the tiny display of cookies.  Too many buttons and knobs you don’t understand, so Seokjin takes on the chivalric role and prepares everything for you. He rips the plastic open with gentle hands. Dumps the powder with too much conviction.

You both watch the water stream hot into the noodles. “Do you like macadamia nuts in your cookies?”

“I guess,” you say.

“Wanna split a cookie?” He hands you chopsticks to stir the ramen with, gestures at the cookie display with a jut of his chin.

“Are you paying?”

“Can you imagine if I made you pay after I asked to split,” Seokjin spits at you. “Yes I’m paying.”

“Then I want chocolate chip.”

He freezes, then jabs smartly at his noodles for a tense ten seconds.

“You make me mad,” he finally answers. “Should we eat in the car?”

“The bowl is too hot to hold.”

The counter at the window it is. You’re sad that you didn’t buy pickled radish, but your coin purse has weeped all its coinage out. Seokjin leaves you as Noodle Guard, going off to pay for that bonus cookie with a crumpled five. In the next second you contemplate the evaporation of ramen soup, the cookie is duly dumped right next to you, and Seokjin takes a huge bite of what still appears to be extremely hot noodles.

He promptly chokes, and makes sputtering noises.

“Holy shit,” Seokjin cries.

You take a much, much slower bite. “You’ll be fine.”

“I thought I could be cool for you,” he cries some more.

“You don’t need to be cool for me. Who eats ramen in a cool way?”

Seokjin nods his approval, that tear of theatrics sliding down his cheekbone. He eats carefully. A noisy car roils on outside, and passes quickly outside your periphery.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you remember to say.

“I love standing at counters and eating things hot,” Seokjin retorts. He dodges the fist you aim at his abdomen with swift ease. “It’s no problem.”

“I—“ You don’t really know why but you need to talk. “You know—you’re really, um, kind.”

Foolery. Absolute foolery that sentence was, and the cashier probably heard that foolery, and Seokjin definitely heard that absolute foolery, and he’s laughing. Like really laughing, caught with the noodles dangling from in-between his teeth. That’s all you had to say? The guy drove you out to get cup noodles out of his own volition. That’s kindness maxed out, and he deserves better than you fumbling between your teeth. Your nerves have fried up so bad, you guess.

Seokjin’s giggles dwindle down. “Thanks,” he says, smiling small.

You blame the heat of your cheeks from the heat of your soup.

Neither of you are desperate to get to that last quarter of noodles to broth ratio. The knots of your shoulders loosen with the sound of your slurping combined, and silently you are reminded of Seokjin’s warmth, standing so close to you.

The easiest path to a nice ending involves a happy belly and Seokjin driving you home with nothing more than a goodbye and a thank-you as you slam the car door shut. This is not unknown to you, because you and Hyukjae-from-Psych took that easy path yesterday.

You just don’t do this often, contemplating all the routes of romance. When is it appropriate to laugh at a joke, to wipe your mouth on the napkin? To smile and peel at your heart and grant that person access to all your inner workings? You belatedly notice that Seokjin did not bring napkins.

(The moment in the car—nothing you don’t want to give me—you want to laugh at his jokes, and smile, peel and peel and peel at your heart, but slowly. Slowly, you put your chopsticks down.)

How funny it is to come to very sound conclusions within a split second, because all you know is that it feels good, being with him like this.

Seokjin, in your quiet realization, takes it upon himself to decide the cookie-eating rights.

“Want the first bite?” He asks, propping the chopsticks horizontally on his bowl.

You nod. Desperately you try not to look at him because you might make more realizations, and you don’t think you’re ready for any more unleashed and unknown emotions. “Please.”

He gives it to you. The right side decidedly has more chocolate chips, and  it’s a very nice explosion on your tongue. So nice you groan into it. “Oh that’s really good.”

He snatches the cookie away before you can take another bite. “I get bigger bites because I paid for it.”

“That—? Uh, that’s not how sharing works.”

“Yes it does,” Seokjin argues. But he just takes as normal a bite as ever. You can’t say you don’t focus on his mouth for too long, though—

—And you immediately seize up at the thought. Horrified, you shriek: “Actually just—have the rest of it!”

He looks alarmed. “O…kay?”

“You’ve got a nice mouth,” you blurt out next.

An absolutely awful feeling settles heavy in your stomach. Because almost immediately you realize that this is a kind and soft boy with nice anecdotes that have yet to be uncovered this night (he likes telling you stories) and he’s got wider shoulders than Kim Taehyung and you’re not sharing butter tarts but you’re sharing a cookie with him.

Another realization: does Seokjin have limp arms?

He puts the cookie down. (His arm looks very strong, doing that.) “I—thanks?”

“I think I’m losing my mind,” you note.

He watches you slump over the counter. Purposefully burying your face in your elbows to muffle your betraying mouth. “It’s late,” is all he says.

“Did that make you uncomfortable?”

“Not at all.” You don’t think you’re breathing. Your lungs have evaporated, like those steamy ramen noodles you just ate. Seokjin probably notices you’ve stopped moving, so he says, “Really.”

“Okay.”

“Did it—did it make you uncomfortable?”

“Not at all,” you say.

“Cool. Do you wanna go—“

You stand up straight, grab all your garbage before he finishes. You don’t look at him. “Yep, yep, please.”

(iii)

He puts the key in the ignition, and doesn’t budge.

“Somehow I feel like you wanna say something else,” Seokjin says.

You curl your hands into fists. “It’s late.”

“I’m aware.”

“I’m—I’m sorry.” You are acutely aware of how garbled you must sound. It’s starting to get on your nerves, how flimsy you’re being. “I’m not… thinking.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re being pretty articulate for someone with an empty brain.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” Seokjin sighs.

The seat squeaks where you tense up. “I don’t want to think about your mouth.”

“Do you wanna know what I think?” You nod. Jesus. You’ll just let him do the talking from now on because your tongue can’t be trusted this early in delirium, late in the hour. “I—I…”

Seokjin struggles some more, then deflates. He starts laughing.

“I… don’t drive just anyone out to convenience stores at two in the morning for ramen. You have to know that.” He clears his throat. His eyes are shiny with the harsh glare of neon signs. “I guess I just—wanna know… what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking…” Your lips part. Searching for words feels like a physical thing—your stomach is swimming with what feels like a billion thoughts but nothing comes up for air. “I’m thinking I—don’t want to say the wrong thing.”

Seokjin turns to look at you. “I won’t make fun,” he whispers.

“I think. I think, you look—um—really… Good. Um. R-Really… good, right now.”

“Thanks.” He looks up like he wants to say something but his eyes harden where he gazes, locking in on the dust motes of the windshield. Your lungs swell small in the quietude. “I think you really look good, too.”

If baser compliments already have you burning then you don’t know what you’d do if he tried anything more romantically complex. Some people are meant for loud love stories and grand gestures and you—all you can do is think too much and you want to say more but Seokjin understands. He understands your silence, your ineptitude.

In a fit of controlled passion, you reach over the console, grasping at his knuckles till he flips his palm right into yours.

“Feels… ”

You wait for something to come to mind. A phrase, a proper thought to give utterance to, all the failures and successes of the night. Faithfully, nothing comes.

It just feels.

And Seokjin seems to agree. He holds tight between the grooves of your fingers.

“You’re very pretty and it hurts,” he says, and he doesn’t try to meet your gaze, and one feeling comes resolute: it feels right.

[tonystarkbingo]

Our TSB party is still going, and here is one of the games we’ve had fun with so far!

Fic Titles Game

Glitter - suggested by @phoenixmetaphor3000

@huntress79 - Idea: Dum-E teams up with Steve (other Avengers optional) to bring some Christmas cheer to their favorite in-house Grinch (aka Tony XD)  Massive amounts of Glitter involved

@rebelmeg​ - tony kind of has an accidental thing for glitter. it's not his fault. the iron man suit has a glitz and glamour of its own, he's always told his eyes sparkle, and his favorite tie pin is that gaudy ruby one that pepper hates. he loves the stars, the way sunlight sparkles on the waves outside his malibu mansion, and he can't really be blamed when a tiny speck of glitter under a certain someone's eye catches his attention one december day.

@psychiccatpanda - Clint refills DUM-E's fire extinguisher with purple and silver glitter as revenge for Tony making Clint's most recent armor change to red and gold with body heat. Hijinks ensue.

@lbibliophile-mcu - Decorating the Christmas tree, the Avengers get into an argument over who is responsible for the missing tinsel. Half an hour later they find it, in a tangled web draped all over Dum-e. He objects strenuously to its removal, but eventually concedes to their assistance in rearranging the strands so he can still move.

@huntress79 - The Avengers are invited to a Charity gala, but they have to wear costumes that are NOT their usual ones. And of course, Tony can't resist an opportunity to rile up a certain Captain, just a little bit. Best way to do so: a dare, in this case who wears the most glittery costume. But what Tony didn't expect was that Steve comes up with his own counterdare... (author's choice ;))

@darthbloodorange - [Stony] - It's pride, so there was bound to be some glitter floating around, it was inevitable. But this much? Someone was obviously being irresponsible with glitter and needs to be given a warning for the good of the world (and the Tower's cleaning bots). Tony follows the trail of glitter... all the way to Steve's room? Does this mean that Tony's crush on Steve actually stood a chance of being more than just a crush.

@ralsbecket - It was Steve's first Father's Day being Morgan's step-dad, and Tony helps her with cooking breakfast in bed and sprinkling red, white, and blue glitter on a handmade card (not particularly in that order). Steve still finds glitter everywhere weeks later.

@rebelmeg​ - i can't art very well, but i want art of the aftermath of tony opening a glitter bomb that rhodey left out for him

@huntress79 - (Stony) - During a mission in space, Tony and Steve are stranded on a planet, with no immediate way to get back. After a while, they encounter tiny little beings who introduce themselves as fairies. But while they can't fulfill their wish to get home (for whatever reasons), they might be inclined to use their glittery fairy dust for something else… (could also be used for a crossover with Hook/Peter Pan)

@rebelmeg (with some inspirational help from @dreaminglypeach) - tony coming home with glitter all over his suit and looking super smug, and everyone IMMEDIATELY assumes strippers. but of course it's gotta something completely different and silly.  like... he wandered through the christmas department at the store and slipped on something and ended up sprawled on the glitter strewn floor

 @yesmooshoe - Tony is somehow de-aged to around 5. The Avengers do their best to take care of him while they figure out what to do, but don't keep a constant eye on him. Tony likes all of his new friends though and wants to do something special for them, so he acquires a bunch of glitter and glue (maybe jarvis helps? maybe thor likes crafting? fuck knows.) Tony proceeds to embellish everyone's stuff - glitter all of steve's shield, thor's hammer, glitter all over Clint's arrows (which really throws off the balance but he can't be mad), and even a weird-looking red and yellow robot suit. When Tony is finally returned to normal he's upset with his younger self for how haphazardly he glued all the glitter to his suit, because it could have looked super cool if done well.

Collaborative effort that started with strippers and then went off the rails

Glitter lube

Scratchy, what a terrible idea

oh my god but imagine shitting out glitter

Edible glitter

Edible glitter on cakes

Edible glitter exiting the human body

So many glitter poop jokes and anecdotes

@ralsbecket - The Avengers are forced undercover for a mission to catch a villain red-handed, and this villain just so happens to work from the basement of a strip-club. Tony draws the short straw, but at least he can choose his own stripper name.

@lbibliophile-mcu - He's sure it looks very pretty. Gentle waves ruffling the surface of the bay. Each strand of grass on the dunes lined in perfect crystals of frost. Dawn sun painting the sky pink. And right there is the problem: dawn sun. It is far too early to have to deal with all these stray rays of light stabbing through his eyes.

(More under the cut!)

Vices - suggested by @ralsbecket

@huntress79 - (Stony) - Steve's a hard working cop on the vice, Tony's his "favorite" frequent delinquent (aka Tony's a bit of a bad boy who usually gets arrested by Steve, for rather minor things, but Tony can't shut up when Steve's around, so it's more for his talking than anything else) (Steve, of course, can be replaced by any other character, whatever floats your boat XD)

@rebelmeg - tony kicked a lot of these habits a long time ago. it's been ages since he's been high, or slept around, or partied until he literally dropped. but around this time in december, he's allowed a few of his other vices. his need for near-constant touch and attention. drinking. staying up to keep the nightmares away, and being coaxed to bed when he's so exhausted he's asleep before his head eats the pillow. eating all the food he loves that aren't that great for him. it's okay, though. this time of year, he's allowed.

@lbibliophile - "... This is not the worst thing you've caught me doing." And it was in that moment - confronted by the picture he made trapped in the grip of supposedly-helpful machinery - that Tony decided he really needed to prioritise a better way of getting the suit on and off.

@rebelmeg - some kind of profile art with the arc reactor depicted as one half of a vice clamped on tony's chest

@dreaminglypeach - vices: DUM-E was only trying to help squishy-dad with his work. He didn’t mean to get his hand stuck in a vice. If only sky-dad would stop chastising him and call for help…

@Magicadraconia16 - Dum-E does not understand why everyone keeps saying that vices are bad. They're very helpful tools! He loves the one that Tony gave him for his very own. He can show everyone, then they'll see! If only he can get it off of U's arm, first…

@huntress79 - Knowing that Tony will fall back to some of his old vices as soon as December rolls around, the whole Tower teams up to keep him from doing so (can be gen aka Avengers as a family, or end with your favorite partner for Tones)

@psychiccatpanda - [potential WinterIron] Bucky has been researching everyone on the team and it seems like the media has nothing better to do than to gossip about Tony Stark's vices - women, booze, and expensive cars mostly. The trashier gossip bloggers openly speculated on what (or who) Tony's latest mistake would be. When Bucky gives Tony a judgmental look after he's returned from being out (much longer than the hour Stark had said he'd be gone), Tony frowns. The bag clanks like metal. What the hell had Tony meant when he'd said he needed to 'go pick up some new vices'?? ((hint - it's actual vices. It always takes longer at Home Depot or any hardware store because Tony has to look at everything before he leaves!))

@tehroserose - [Stony] Steve had only one vice. Well, two, but they were related. He loved watching Tony's backside, and he loved getting him angry. The genius was so alive when he was angry, and then he was treated to a wonderful view of the amazing backside. Bucky was about ready to smack him upside the head for his kindergarten way of having a crush.

@darthbloodorange - [Stony] - Before the serum there was a lot of things Steve couldn't experience, whether it was because of his conditions or lack of money. Steve's favourite thing about the 21st Century is all the foods and flavours. Being able to eat things he couldn't eat before. Being able to taste things he wouldn't've been able to taste before. Steve spends his military back-pay on food and treats... a part of him burns at the idea of spending his money this way, there were more beneficial things he could be doing with it... But he can't help himself, especially when some flavours taste like euphoria. Tony notices and decides to indulge in Steve's vices.

@huntress79 - (potential HawkIron) For the longest time, Clint always had to choose before a mission between wearing the team comms and his hearing aids, otherwise his ears felt like being in a vice. SHIELD didn't see it as a necessity to equip him with better things, but once he joins the Avengers, and Tony notices the obvious problem, things start to look up for the resident archer....

@huntress79 - Ever since he got free of the programming and came to live at the Tower, Bucky's been doing repairs on his metal arm on his own. But after a mission, putting his arm in a vice and working with the fine tools isn't the easiest thing to do. And Buck's too proud to ask anyone for help, be it Steve or anyone else. Good thing that he can't stop JARVIS alerting Tony to that particular problem... (can be friendship/mending bridges between them, or WinterIron)

5 Times Tony Stark was a Terrible Cook, Plus 1 That One Time He Finally Ordered a Pizza - suggested by @yesmooshoe

@tehroserose - Tony/Others, Tony/Rhodey end. Tony has always tried to cook for his dates. He wants to impress them. Problem is, he can't cook. And too many people just want the Stark money and lie and say it is good. Or they're too afraid/intimidated to tell the truth. Later, much later, he realizes they aren't good for him. Then there's Rhodey, who's never afraid to tell Tony that his cooking sucks... and then, after the last relationship ended, this time when the white lie was out of care, Rhodey again tells Tony his food sucks, let's get pizza. And they kiss, over the pizza.

@rebelmeg - first it was cookies. cookies burnt to a crisp that even ana jarvis couldn't salvage. second was spaghetti, so mushy and overcooked that rhodey couldn't stop laughing even when tony threatened to throw his enormously thick math textbook at him. third was that whole "raw in the middle" chicken incident that happy still won't let him live down, and fourth was the disastrous omelet for pepper. fifth was morgan's 1st birthday cake, and thank heaven's pepper was wise enough to ignore him and order a backup. this time, he's just gonna order a pizza.

@huntress79 - Tony The Cook: The Jarvises tried, Mama Rhodes as well, but for all his genius, Tony can't figure out a cooking recipe. Nonetheless, he tried to impress several various dates with his cooking skills. Needless to say that none of these attempts (both cooking and dating) ended well. Then, he meets Steve, a guy who doesn't care at all what they eat, as long as they eat together. And so, Tony orders pizza for their date…

@Magicadraconia16 - It's an unfortunate historical fact that Tony cannot cook to save his life (hmm, there's an idea for the next HYDRA kidnapping...). Rhodey's meal was burnt to unidentifiable cinders (seriously, even Tony doesn't know what it was supposed to be); Pepper's gave her an allergic reaction; Natasha chipped a tooth; Hulk came out and threw Bruce's food out of the (closed!!) window; and Steve got food poisoning. Steve!!! So when Bucky turns up in his workshop one day, Tony decides to selflessly save everyone from a hangry Winter Soldier and just orders pizza, instead.

@ralsbecket - 5 + 1 Pizza: Tony Stark was many things. He was a genius, he was a billionaire, he was a playboy, he was a philanthropist. The thing he was decidedly not was a good cook. It was one burnt omelet too many before Pepper begged him to just order out. The person delivering his pizza was... attractive. If he started ordering pizza on Fridays at 6PM every week for a month, that was nobody's business.

@lbibliophile-mcu - Tony just wants to offer a fancy home-made anniversary dinner. It's not so much that Tony is a terrible cook, but that something (or several somethings) always go wrong. His significant other's flight was delayed. He gets distracted by a minor crisis half way through cooking. He tries to prepare beforehand, but forgets to label it before leaving it in the common fridge. Had a mistranslated recipe or the wrong measuring spoons. Dum-e tried to 'help' while he was distracted. The next year, his SO requests that they just order pizza to eat cuddled on the couch.

@psychiccatpanda - Single dad Tony tries to do it all. He feels terrible about the amount of time his three kids (all under the age of 5) spend in daycare, but college will be expensive, so he works -and works. But he tries to make the after-work before-bed moments really count. Sometimes his carefully planned dinners don't work out. Monday, the slow cooker wasn't plugged in and their chicken and potato dish spoiled for being on the counter for almost 13 hours unrefrigerated. Tuesday they were out of bread and ate PBJ on the last three hot dog buns. Wednesday, he thought dinner was fine, but Peter declared it was 'too spicy' and so none of the kids would eat it. Thursday he burned the chicken nuggets in the oven because he had to help the kids with their baths, and Friday? Well no one was gonna talk about that again. Saturday Tony's ready to cry because he's pretty sure Morgan is coming down with something. So he orders pizza. When the pizza delivery guy arrives, holding Morgan, she barfs all down Tony's back. Pizza delivery driver yanks the pizza away and asks if he can come in to set it down in the kitchen, then helps out with the kids while Tony takes a shower.

@darthbloodorange - [Stony] - It was meant to be romantic, cooking for a date. But with Tony it was definitely not romantic. Cooking for Rumiko he managed to burn everything, yet have the food still raw. Firefighters had to be called when he set his dorm alight cooking for Janet. Ty needed to have his stomach pumped after Tony's cooking (how was he to know what was too much alcohol, wasn't it meant to burn off?). Indries had stomach problems for weeks after Tony cooked for her. And he managed to poison Pepper... Needless to say, Tony wasn't a good cook... So when he scores a date with Steve Rogers, he thinks "why bother try? Steve is too good for me anyway", there was no way they were going to last. So he orders a pizza. Steve is relieved when he sees the pizza. He had been hoping Tony would pick something down to earth, worried he wouldn't know how to eat whatever posh food Tony put in front of him and make a fool of himself. Steve admits he doesn't know how to cook either. Maybe Captain America isn't so perfect. Maybe... Maybe this could work out. Him and Steve

@huntress79 - Of all the people, Tony has probably the most irregular eating rhythm. He has been known to try and cook for himself, but the results are less than stellar. So, one by one, each of the Avengers try to cook for him, until Steve joins him in the workshop with a small stash of pizzas…

@lbibliophile-mcu - It was all Steve Rogers' fault. Him and his insistence on 'team dinners' to 'promote bonding' and 'improve cohesion'. Not that Tony necessarily objects to the dinners - pending his schedule - but Steve seems to have this odd conviction that having home-cooked food is a necessary part of the ritual, and none of them can change his mind. Natasha tried logic. Clint tried begging. Bruce, he's pretty sure, is sneaking in pre-made food and just cooking the final steps. Thor thinks it's a great idea... but is always for some reason back on Asgard on his nights. But Tony is a genius, so he decides on a different approach. He grumbles a little bit, but otherwise doesn't complain when it's his night to cook. He cooks... and watches as each of the Avengers gives up on choking down the barely-edible meal. The next time he is rostered, the scene repeats. And the next. And the next. By the sixth time he is due to be cooking dinner, Steve comes up to him and politely - but pointedly - suggests that maybe they just order pizza. Tony thinks of the several meals worth of tasty leftovers hidden in the penthouse fridge, and graciously acquiesces.

I hope Thistle cheer you up - by @darthbloodorange

@rebelmeg - it was the pun war to end all pun wars. and it was probably going to end all of them. clint was fine, he loved puns almost as much as he loved pizza. steve hated puns so much he had taken up swearing. tony took sadistic glee in saving his worst puns for when steve was around. nat was famous for using the most clever of puns at unexpected moments. bucky could deadpan a pun so seriously it always took them by surprise. thor was terrible at it, still grasping the nuances of american english, but he sure tried hard. bruce tolerated it all and made half-hearted attempts at participation, though chuckling at his own puns was usually funnier than the puns. sam loved making puns, but hated it when other people did. it started creeping into other areas of their life, onto social media, in interviews, and at one point hawkeye was trending for awhile after he screamed out "THISTLE CHEER YOU UP!" whilst battling some kind of plant monster. tony helped, because he retweeted with the comment, "ooh, talk dirt to me."

@ralsbecket -  So what if Tony had gotten laid off? So what if Tony had a mountain of bills sitting on his dining table? The only thing that mattered to him in that moment was his baby girl Morgan, with her hair falling out of the ponytail and her cute little lisp. She'd come back in from the backyard with a handful of dandelions, saying, "I hope thistle cheer you up, Daddy" so sweetly that for just a moment, everything was okay again.

@psychiccatpanda - [IronHawk] Tony's been working on the reams of paperwork that he's put off for SI. He's still not sure why it all needs to be done before the end of the quarter, but here he was. Needless to say, Tony Stark has been in a foul mood the whole week. The snide comments he usually keeps to himself have started to slip out and he feels guilty on top of the grouchy, so he decides to barricade himself in his office. He falls asleep on a sheaf of papers and wakes up with the impression of little ridges of paper on his cheek. It takes a moment (he hasn't been asleep that long) for him to fully realize the plant in front of him was real. An aloe plant - with a plate of chocolate muffins, fruit, cheese, and nuts. A post-it on the aloe's pot read, 'I hope thistle cheer you up,' written with a purple felt tip pen., which meant either Clint had left it - or Natasha pretending to be Clint.

@lbibliophile-mcu - Bruce looks at Tony, then back down at the spiny dried flowerhead in his hands.

"I know that you were getting frustrated trying to find these for your new fibre arts project, so I decided to help." His eyes light up as he realises the pun. "Thistle cheer you up!"

Bruce sighs even as he smiles.

"Tony... I appreciate the thought, but as you said, this is a thistle. I need a teasel."

@darthbloodorange - [Stony] - Tony really doesn't like his neighbour Justin. The man was always trying to find ways to report him to the local council. Mailbox too close to driveway? Reported! Weeds in his lawn? Reported! Fence too high? Reported! Didn't clean his pool that weekend? Reported! Lawn too long? Reported! It was ridiculous. But the council won't do anything because taking action against someone who's reported you (even if the reports were false) is apparently considered wrong and vindictive. There was nothing Tony could do but grit his teeth and bear it. One day Tony receives a box in the mail, addressed from his neighbour across the street. The handsome blond guy with the body of a Greek god and a garden that looked like a literal paradise. Steve Rogers. Tony wasn't too shy to admit (to himself) that he had a crush on the man. He eagerly tears into the box to find a small note and a lots of little bags of mulch wrapped in tissue paper. The note reads: "Tony, I've heard you be having some trouble. I hope thistle cheer you up. After the rain comes flowers. Ps. Throw these over Justin's fence." And so he does. Watching Justin battle all the weeds after it rains brings Tony so much joy. Especially when Justine reports him to the council and the council shrugs him off this time. He heads over to Steve with some home cooked food as a thank you gift and they get talking. Turns out Steve is an Environmental activist with a passion for guerrilla gardening. Tony is hooked. Maybe it has more to to with Steve then the revenge on Justin (as sweet as it was)

[mousehole5000]

wow i made this draft on november 1st i really took a break from this huh anyway tgcf chapters 121 - 142

i realize now this coffin scene was inevitable. feel kinda weird about hua cheng  back and forth from Teen to Big Man but it is very funny that theyre having their “dude dont look at my boner” moment while in the jaws of a water dragon

pei ming: why didnt you guys make a bigger coffin so you didnt have to squish together like that? xie lian: haha yep!! anyways what brings you here?

“In the grand, spacious centre of the entrance hall sat a person. And this person, dressed in all black, its face snow-white—was a corpse! Instantly Xie Lian shut the doors soundly.” - king of minding his own business.

okay this is where i stopped putting notes here for a while but i did save some in my e-reader so here’s some of the highlights

“Guzi used to have a good sleeping form, but perhaps with his cheap dad’s bad influence, now he was also spread out on top of Qi Rong’s stomach like a dead fish. Lang Ying himself was curled neatly in the corner, and was covered by a few shirts. Xie Lian lifted the blanket covering Qi Rong, suppressed the urge to smother his face, and covered the two small children.” - xie lian funny moments. also it would be really funny if qi rong redeems himself by learning love through these misfit chiildren and it might actually endear me to him but i hope that doesnt happen

Every heavenly official was yelling, and even Ling Wen was throwing a fit. “DON’T THROW EVERY BIT OF USELESS INFORMATION MY WAY, HOW MUCH DO YOU THINK I HAVE TO GO THROUGH EVERY DAY? DON’T YOU ALL KNOW TO USE YOUR BRAINS A LITTLE BEFORE ASKING ME?!” - ling wen marry me right now

“An expression like “seen a ghost” that only mortals experienced was now showing on his face for the first time. Shi Wudu’s pupils shrank to the smallest they could, and he blurted, “You’re still alive?!” “I’m dead!” He Xuan said coldly.” - okay everythings going tits up rn but i did laugh

i did see spoilers re: ming yi/he xuan reveal + shi wudu’s fate beforehand so i dont have a genuine reaction other than oh shit

“He slowly enunciated each word. “I won’t touch your fate. But, here in this place, chop off your brother’s head for me.”  CLANG! He threw a rusty blade onto the ground. Shi Qingxuan stared at that blade, his eyes wide. He Xuan continued, “Then, never show yourself before me again, and I will pretend you’ve never existed in this world.” - okay idk what else is going to happen but rn im concerned that this is like the 2nd biggest ship. i guess we’ll see?? i mean i am really curious whats going to happen to them. shi qingxuan keeps calling he xuan “ming-xiong” and i... sad

shi wudu im not really invested in you as a character but these next two bits... interesting

“If I don’t die but have nothing, then that’s truly a fate worse than death. If I’m not the Water God, I can’t take care of you. I won’t even be able to protect myself. I’m scared that we won’t even last two days…TAKE IT!” - damn. something about the wealthy losing everything and not knowing how to live without it bc thats their entire life and identity

“EVERYTHING I HAVE TODAY, I FOUGHT FOR MYSELF. I WILL FIGHT FOR WHAT I DON’T HAVE. I WILL CHANGE FATE I DON’T POSSESS. MY FATE IS UP TO ME AND NOT THE HEAVENS!” - okay so the whole committing spiritual fraud by tormenting a man and his family to get your brother a cushy title thing aside this was kind of badass. heretical? possibly. but still. also is he intentionally riling up he xuan so sqx doesnt have to kill him? if so damn...

also okay as long as im here im just gonna say it. the choice that he xuan gives shi qingxuan is fucking brutal but i actually think its probably as fair as it could be. sqx didnt know about or participate in what happened to hx but they did benefit from it greatly while hx lost EVERYTHING and i can understand he xuan’s thinking of “if you really feel bad for what happened to me then you have to make a sacrifice and understand the suffering and this is as clean as its going to get” and theres a bit where sqx is trying to beg for mercy but cant get the words out which im guessing is bc theres no good argument!! what happened was fucked up!!

“When Pei Ming saw that reinforcements had arrived, he didn’t appear particularly delighted; instead he threw the sword into the ground, then rubbed his nose and said, sounding grim, “You all just had to come just as I finished making these, what the heck.” - pei ming making coffins chopping down trees with his sword i love it #wastehistime2k17

“Xie Lian brought that basket of eggs along, and gave them away as souvenirs from the mortal realm. Many who received the eggs were overjoyed; some deciding to eat it along with their own blood, and some proclaiming they would hatch an eight-foot monster.” - GHOST CITY GHOST CITY

“Placing the brush down, he blew lightly at the ink and smiled. “If I like something, then my heart will not have room for any other, and I’ll always treasure it. A thousand times, a million times, no matter how many years, this will not change. This poem is the same." - thats nice and all but king... get therapy. i actually have further thoughts but tbh i dont want to put them into words bc they are simply too personal! moving on

didnt take any notes but somewhere in here was the bit with mount tong’lu opening and hua cheng losing it and kind of um. hm. that scene. thats another trope i really hate tbh i dont care for it as a way of including physical intimacy between characters and idk if it really ever adds anything but whatever moving on

The Half-Maquillage Woman - kind of interesting monster idea bc women and aging…. yeah. however i think this would be a lot stronger if there were a) more girls and this was b) discussed or illustrated at all prior to this moment. still interesting that its included knowing the author is a woman tho and there’s been comments on how ling wen is perceived vs pei ming. this book does keep giving me hope for interesting female character arcs i really want it to deliver something

quan yizhen..... i get u

lmao i have a note on a bit with lang ying that says “please dont be hc in disguise” and..... my clown nose was on but at least i knew that. for real this is bothering me how much he’s just. always. there. i know he’s a lead but we didn’t really need him around for a lot of this. oh well.  okay now to my current notes

“Yet it was precisely because it wasn’t cooked that it had to be eaten quickly. Once Xie Lian cooked it, it wouldn’t be edible anymore” - fucking fantastic

“Xie Lian hugged his belly. “Of course! Only after having met you did I rediscover that it’s such a simple thing to be happy, hahaha…” Hearing this, Hua Cheng blinked. Xie Lian’s laughter quieted a bit, realizing what he just said was a little too revealing.” - okay i know i said what i said about being tired of hua cheng being everywhere but... the line…. the fact that theyre laughing together…. :pleading:

“It’s not,” Ling Wen said. “At least, I believe, there will definitely not be another in history who can create a dish called ‘Incorruptible Chastity Meatballs’” - and truer words were never spoken

“I, DO NOT WORSHIP GODS. “I, AM GOD!” - this was every bit as badass as i hoped but no one told me it was immediately followed up by a little bit of the ol dinner theater fjalkdsfjsd. also puqi shrine noooooooooo

“Xie Lian sighed as he thought, “Qi Rong has taken Guzi away, who knows if the poor child was eaten or abandoned. Wind Master...... ..... who knows if Black Water took him away. Pray they’re both safe.” yeah hey are we going to fucknig. find out what happened to the child???

and yeah i dooooont really care for the age regression? thing thats going on. i just dont like that trope tbh. but tiny hua cheng whipping out his fat ghost king wallet in the store was funny tho. it is really funny that hualian are just like wandering around some random towns while the heavens are in an uproar. i guess theres not much else to do but its funny

“Me too, me too. You all know of my shixiong, right? Talented, with an infinite future! He only had one small vice: he loved playing women. Decades ago, a little prostitute ghost seduced my shixiong and sucked him dry into human jerky, and that Hua, Hua, Hua, that ghost king dared shelter her.” - yes omg give me the forbidden hua cheng lore i love this for him for real it goes along nicely with xie lian’s principles about giving another cup. god i love shared values

“Hua Cheng poked again, and a small hole appeared on the wall, as if the wall was made of tofu.” - how’d he do that. why is this a ghost king power. its useful tho

*me shaking qi rong when he pops up* WHERE IS THE CHILD

mu qing fu yao is here okay im happy now. once again no one has a good grasp on their secret identity and i love that. this inn has descended into chaos and im delighted and im glad lan chang is back

“The good ol’ kitchen was suddenly squished and crowded, loud and noisy. Fu Yao was chasing that fetus spirit leaping up and down, Lan Chang was chasing after Fu Yao like she had gone mad. Half of Qi Rong’s face changed shape by the way Xie Lian was pressing him down on the chopping board, his back turning into a target for those yellow talismans Fu Yao hurled while being observed by a crowd, and Lan Chang would step on him from time to time.” - this is pure chaos. i love that mu qing was in that room when the mob checked and he didnt say a word didnt open the door just sent out a talisman as a warning. king your disguise is transparent

“Xie Lian remembered the way Feng Xin laughed until he was hoarse when he first heard that verbal password all those years back, and couldn’t help but feel nostalgic, even though it wasn’t the right time.” - awwwww omg im emotional about this... faithful friend feng xin laughing at xie lian’s stupid joke password and remembering it!!! ;_;

“They have, but they’re not effective,” Feng Xin said. “Usually they’re the most diligent in scorning the Palace of Ling Wen, like they could do the job way better if they had the position. Now that we need them to take up the task, not a single one can do even half of what she does.” - typical... typical typical typical

also emotional about the fact that feng xin contacted xie lian at all.....

also!! emotional about lan chang as a mom and wanting to help out sick lil guzi.....

xie lian forcing “fu yao” to let him help “his general” is making me.... what is friendship if not playing along with your buddies little shenanigans while also making them accept your help

“Someone like Mu Qing, even though he’s narrow-minded, petty, sensitive and skeptical, has a bad personality, constantly guessing, doesn’t say nice things, likes to nag, always offending people and has a lot of people who dislike him, has no friends, can remember small, unimportant details for a long period of time…” ”Xie Lian went on in one breath with a straight face, but in the end he concluded with, “...But I’ve known him since we were kids, after all, he’s still got principles.” - XIE LIAN PLEASE AFJDLKSFJDL omg ive seen this quote before but i figured he was talking to someone else not actually to mu qing himself fgjasdkfjsl. god thats amazing. hey im gonna help you out because i care but i will roast you first <3

waaaaaait so is lan chang aka jian lan that girl from book 2 we took a page to talk about and then disappeared? that has to be it why else would we have stopped to discuss her

“Jian Lan spat on his face, then choking his neck, she slapped him twice again. “WHAT SHITTY SUPREME! YOU SURE KNOW HOW TO BLOW YOURSELF UP! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, THINK YOU’RE EVEN WORTH TO BE THOUGHT OF AS EQUALS WITH THE OTHER THREE SUPREMES? WHAT ARE YOU EVEN GOOD AT? YOUR THICK SKIN? OF COURSE I DARE HIT YOU!” - oh this feels so good i cant lie. YES GET HIM!! CHOMPING AND VIOLENCE YES!!!!

okay this description of cuocuo.... im... that sure the hell is a creature

this book is so entertaining bc i already saw spoilers for the feng xin/jian lan/cuo cuo reveal and yet i could never have predicted the circumstances that brought it about. imagine being feng xin. the heavens are in an uproar and your only friend/enemy has been jailed for possible fetus spirit-related crimes but he escapes along with this female ghost who keeps causing problems. you figure “fuck it lets see if dianxia kept his old phone number” and he has but then he hangs up on you. you’ve got fuckall else to do so you go find him. mu qing is there but he’s in his disguise the two of you were using so you could watch over his highness while staying aloof. you think you see hua cheng only he’s a chiild for some goddamn reason but who knows at this point. the female ghost is also there and theres a fetus spirit climbing trees and biting your arrows in half. you realize the female ghost is your ex and the little demon is your son. it bites you. what do you do

amazing that despite everything going on everyone is still playing along with the “fu yao” persona when it would probably be easier to drop pretenses at this point. then again tbh if i could explain my actions to my friends while pretending to be a third party.... i probably would so.. carry on

“With all his devotees gone, only Feng Xin still treated him like the Flower-Crowned Martial God and His Highness the Crown Prince. ” “...his protection charms were all seen as trash. However, Feng Xin was still determined and tireless in handing them out; telling Xie Lian, look, you still have devotees.” “After all, he was the darling of the heavens since birth, high and mighty. Feng Xin so naturally spun around him like he was the world, so how could he possibly have his own life, his own heart” “Whether or not that fetus spirit was Feng Xin’s son, if it was that period of poverty that made Feng Xin lose the girl he loved, Xie Lian wouldn’t be able to forgive himself no matter what." ohhhh my god this relationship i. im...

oh my god i still have 30 more chapters until book 4............ its naptime now i think

[send-allmyloving]

this is steph, pls that chuuya au! i need it 😭😭

Hiii steph!!

To everyone else: basically this is my moot who was listening to “Put Your Head On My Shoulder” and I instantly thought of a singer!reader with pianist!Chuuya who meet at the Bar Lupin, and after falling in love Chuuya confesses to reader with that song! There will be two parts to this; this is part 1.

Enjoy :)

A typical Friday night at the Bar Lupin was nothing without its pianist, Nakahara Chuuya. The peaceful atmosphere was kept perfectly in sync with its customers as the jazz melodies floated out from the piano keys. Chuuya was a pro at keeping the guests feeling laid-back while simultaneously kept engaged by his wondrous piano skills and of course, for the younger ones-- his good looks, which have especially been popular among the ladies. 

Of course, there was always the singular exception from his audience whom would catch his eye after each final chord was stricken, and each time he looked at them, he felt his heart leap out of his chest. He could barely keep his composure together when he was around them, there was just something so... beautifully charming about them. Maybe it was the way their laughter echoed around the room like music, or maybe it was their smile that could outshine a thousand symphonies. Whatever it was, he was intrigued; he had to know more.

Which is why the next time he saw them, he didn’t hesitate moving straight towards them as they chatted away happily with the bartender, unaware of the redhead making his way their direction. 

That was, until they heard a deep voice speak to them:

“Fancy seeing a lovely one like you around here. You look quite splendid tonight especially, y’know?”

You turned around in a start, coming face to face with the attractive young pianist that was leaning against the counter, facing you with a flirtatious grin. Your cheeks became dusted a light shade of crimson as you registered the words that came out of the pianist’s mouth, feeling your face grow even warmer as he smirked at your flustered expression.

God, he was hot.

“At a loss of words, are we now, baby?”

You swore your heart did a somersault right then. baby?

“U-um...”

Quite frankly so, you were at a loss of words. You would have never expected the Nakahara Chuuya, the handsomest pianist you’ve ever laid your eyes on, conversing with you-- no, flirting with you.

What the fuck were you supposed to say?

He smirked, pushing himself off the counter and taking a seat next to you, leaning his elbow against the counter. “Can I buy you a drink? Of course, you can say no, but I just thought it would only be fair to treat a pretty young thing like you to something nice for the night. Whaddya say?” he asked, an irresistible, syrupy-sweet tone saturating his gorgeously baritone voice.

Jesus. Why was he so damn smooth?

“I-I mean... you could, but...” you trailed off, fidgeting with the hem of your sleeves as you looked down.

“But?”

You looked back up at him, feeling your skin grow even hotter as he arched an eyebrow at you questioningly. 

“B-but I’m... I’m trying to take it easy on the alcohol tonight... so...” you stammered, voice timid as you avoided his piercing blue eyes.

A stifled chuckle. You glanced back at him, worried you might have said something ridiculous.

Who were you kidding... that was ridiculous. Who would come to a bar and say they were “taking it easy on the alcohol?”

Chuuya let out a hearty laugh, then tapped the counter to get the bartender’s attention. “A glass of apple juice for the pretty one here, is that alright with you, sweetheart?” he said, a grin on his face. You swore you saw a glimmer of adoration in his eyes, but it was too subtle for you to distinguish when you just felt like you’d been mocked. You nodded quietly, brushing back a tuft of hair behind your ear sheepishly as you looked down at your lap.

“Hey, eyes up here, darlin’,” he said softly. You looked back up apprehensively, worried that he would say something that would make you feel even worse.

“I was just playing, gorgeous. It was just cute of you to say, is all,” he said with a gentle smile, removing his gloves before taking your hand into his. His palms were rough, but warm, and significantly larger than yours. He raised it to his lips, placing a soft kiss to the back of your palm. You felt your heart speed up to what seemed like a million beats per second, and you were pretty much frozen in place because how does anyone prepare for a sexy pianist to casually walk up to them and just start flirting, and then kiss their hand?

“What’s your name, angel?” he murmured, curious blue eyes meeting yours as he slipped his gloves back on. He placed a gloved palm onto your cheek, making sure that you were gazing straight into his eyes that sparkled like a summer lake. He was... stunning.

“(N-Name)”, you stuttered out, your fists gripping tightly to the fabric of your slacks. Your mind was way too occupied to even notice the glass of juice being placed at your side by the bartender. He’s so close, you thought, your mind racing with what on Earth you were supposed to do next. Should you run? Should you slap him? Kiss him? You had no idea.

“(Name),” he whispered, his fingers trailing absentmindedly through a lock of your hair as he stared at you. “Pretty name for such a pretty thing. Say, (Name), are you a singer?”

Your eyes widened at the sudden question. Yes, in fact, you did sing, but why would he ask that now? Did he want you to sing with him? Was he going to ask you to sing right now? Or was he going to make a lewd joke about how you must sound in bed? Or--

“(Name)? You alright, darlin’?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing in concern as he noticed the frantic look in your eyes. “Sorry, is that a touchy subject?”

“N-no! No! It’s fine, I just... I got a bit surprised, sorry,” you said hastily, shaking your head to indicate that he didn’t say anything wrong. The last thing you needed to do was make such a gentleman like him feel ashamed.

“I... I do sing, yes. But... I’m not really confident about it...” you said reluctantly, biting your lip as you looked away, drumming your fingers nervously against your lap.

He hummed in understanding, a soft smile playing at his lips. “Well, I just wondered, since you have such a lovely voice when you speak. I’ve always wanted to perform with a singer, you know,” he said warmly, his gloved hand caressing your cheek, the cool leather feeling soothing against your skin.

“O-oh.” So that’s why he asked. Well, at least one of your guesses was right; he did want you to sing with him.

“I bet you have a fantastic voice, angel. Can I hear a little bit, hm? I wanna get a sneak peak to see what I’m workin’ with,” he murmured, drawing back his hand with a slightly eager look on his face, expectant to see what you had in store for him.

You hesitated. “I... I really don’t sound that good,” you muttered.

Chuuya grinned. “Those who are modest are the best at what they do, is what Oji-san always told me. Now you’re really making me wanna hear you. Come on!” he encouraged, taking your hand once more and giving you a coaxing squeeze.

You sighed. Well, when you ask like that, what else can I do?

“Well... what do you want me to sing?”

He leaned forward, a playful smile on his handsome face, his long orange hair falling further over his shoulder. “A little love song, would be nice,” he said, his hand that was still holding yours intertwining your fingers together. “Maybe... ‘So This Is Love’ by Ilene Woods? Y’know, the Cinderella Song? I’m sure you’ve heard of it,” he said, a hint of an impish grin dancing along his lips.

God, what a little flirt. Too bad you couldn’t really get mad, your heart was busy doing cartwheels on its own, and your thoughts were rushing through your head like summer wind gusts.

You took a shaky breath, and he gave your hand another reaffirming squeeze.

You began to sing. As the first line left your lips, Chuuya’s breath hitched.

So this is love, mmm...

It was like heaven’s door opened up on him. Were you an angel? How else was such a divine voice spilling through your lips?

So this is what makes life divine

He felt like his heart was soaring. The melody that you sang made Chuuya feel like he was bathing in the nectar of the gods, that their was an eternal ray of sunshine that he could only feel. Were you a manifestation of Aphrodite? Was this why he felt so drawn to you, why he felt so entranced? Because goodness, he didn’t want to stop listening at all.

My heart has wings, mmm

And I can fly

I’ll touch every star in the sky

You weren’t just stunning, or beautiful, no. You were radiant. Your voice was heavenly, and he was considered worthy of having the honor of listening to it at his request.

He couldn’t stop staring. He felt his mouth hanging open in awe; he didn’t care. He was mesmerized. How could someone be so... so lovely?

So this is love...

Ah... so this was love indeed. Love at first sight, perhaps. Even after you had finished singing, and you were shyly telling him to stop gaping at you like that, which he eventually did, he was still struck speechless by how absolutely amazing you were, how musically gifted you were. How dare you talked down about your talent like that. He was so in love, with your voice, your beauty, your everything, and whatever else you had in store, he just had to know. He wanted to know all about you; he wanted you to be his, he wanted to be yours.

“Chuuya?” you quietly called to him, tugging the sleeve of his jacket. “Are you okay?”

Chuuya turned back to you, and beamed. He took both your hands, and planted a kiss to your forehead. “Your voice is beautiful, angel. Words can’t describe how amazing your talent is. Be my singer, hm? Perform with me.” he murmured to you, a glimmer in his eyes that seemed quite familiar to you.

Yep, that was definitely a look of adoration.

You smiled softly at him, nodding. You were intrigued with him too. You knew he wasn’t just some playboy freak who wanted a one night stand. He was dashing, yes, but you knew there was much more to him than just his striking looks and his jazz pianist skills. You wanted to dive deeper into the life of this musician. Right, maybe you had a slight crush on him, something you were sure would grow stronger. You wanted to know every part of him, and this was for sure a big first step.

He smiled back at you, a light chuckle slipping out of his mouth as he cupped your face, almost lovingly.

“Perfect.”

// Part 1 is done!! Get ready for Part 2~~

[regular-nessian-trash]

It’s Vegas, Baby - Chapter II

Summary: Nesta goes out to the store and so does Cassian. Classic Nesta, she thinks he’s stalking her. Trust me it’s more interesting than it sounds lol(I hope)

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I'm back on my grind yall *sunglasses emoji*

Nicknames:

Feyby- Feyre(its supposed to be like feyre and baby put together cause shes the baby of the family)

Nestella- Nesta(its supposed to be nesta and nutella. u will learn more later;)

Tiny Ancient One- Amren(kinda self explanatory)

Mor Boobiez Plz- Mor(idk i just thought it was funny lol)

"I'm home!" Nesta calls out to Feyre. She can smell pizza and instantly strides towards the kitchen, where she finds Feyre with a large cheese pizza still in the box, half-eaten.

"Finally! I was beginning to wonder if you and Cassian finally acknowledged the sexual tension between yourselves and fucked."

"Feyre! That is not appropriate to say at all! Cassian and I are barely colleagues, we will never be anything so stop with your meddling!" Nesta replied, trying to will down a bright red blush. Feyre and her boyfriend, Rhys, had this insane idea that she and Cassian were made for each other, it didn't help that Cassian was constantly flirting with her either.

"We're back!" Mor and Amren had just gotten home from some party, with Mor holding Duchess, their shared Chinese Crested Dog. When the four of them bought a penthouse together Feyre and Mor wanted a dog, and Nesta and Amren didn't. After begging and pleading with her sister and friend to please give him away after they adopted him they finally decided to just lock her, Amren, and Duchess in a room together. They all became friends, and they found out that Duchess was, in fact, a boy. They had been calling him Duchess for too long, though, so when they called him Duke he wouldn't reply so the name just stuck. When the rest of their inner circle found out-"the rest" being Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys- they didn't stop teasing them for days. In their defense, he had a very small you-know-what and he was a very ladylike boy.

"Bring my baby boy to me! Oh I wove you so much you wittle cutie pie!" Feyre was letting Duchess lick her face, making Nesta gag. Sure she loved the dog, but seriously, he licks his butt.

"Ugh, Mor, your cousin is working me to the bone! And he won't stop trying to push me and Cassian together! He thinks he can push us together just cause we “have hella sexual tension”! Also, I was thinking about this last night, Rhys is dating Feyre and if I'm Feyres sister and he's Cassians brother, that's literally incest!"

"You know they aren't actually brothers, right? They're just best friends." Mor replied, trying not to laugh at Nesta's flustered expression. She put down Duchess and reached for a slice of pizza. Everyone knew that it was just a matter of time before Nesta and Cassian got together. Nesta and Mor were the only single people in the house, not including Duchess. And Mor was just recently dumped so she was in a big love life meddling mood. Amren was dating some guy named Varian, and Feyre... Well, let's just say that it's a miracle that she's here right now and not out getting nailed by Rhys.

"I know that, but still. They refer to themselves as brothers."  

"So you're saying that if they didn't call themselves brothers you would have sex with Cassian! I knew it!"

"No, Feyre, I am not saying that! Besides, he flirts with everyone so even if I was into him- which I am not - we probably wouldn't become a thing."

"Keyword being probably." Mor says with a smirk.

"Enough of all this bickering, I'm hungry and bored so someone turn on the T.V. while I make some popcorn." Amren quickly breaks them up before Nesta tears off someone's head.

~~~~~

Cassian pulled up at the townhouse he shared with his brothers. All the lights were turned off which meant that Az was sleeping, or not home. The former was more likely because Az usually got pizza on his rest nights and there were three cold slices of meat lovers pizza left. Cassian was so hungry, he ended up eating them cold. He fought back a moan at how delicious the pizza was. He would never understand how Nesta was able to be a vegetarian. Shit. He had been such a dick to Nesta earlier. She was genuinely concerned about him and he had just pushed her away.

Cassian pulled out his phone and checked instagram. Mor had posted a photo of her and Amren with their dog, Duchess, at a party. He didn’t know if he should laugh or cry at the fact that a misgendered dog had a better social life than he did.

~~~~~

“Ugh, Feyre, Tomas and his little gang showed up at work last night.” Nesta and Feyre were chilling in the kitchen, the latter making a breakfast spread that would put Disney Channel moms to shame. Amren and Mor were nursing killer hangovers, so Feyre made sure to bang around a ton in the kitchen.

“Again? A-fucking-gain? Nuthin new, nuthin changed? Same old shit. Same old fuckin shit.” Feyre replied, forgetting that Nesta had no idea what that reference meant.

“I told them to leave and that I almost had the money to pay them back, but Tomas just slapped my ass and said ‘sEe YoU oN yOuR nExT sHiFt’ then he got up and left.”

“You do realize that we could end all of this by just telling Rhys? I know you have this whole thing about your pride and shit, but we could tell Rhys and he could pay off all your debts to him.”

“Feyre, I appreciate it, but I need to fight my own battles. I got myself into this mess, so I sure as hell can get myself out of it. Plus, I don’t like the idea of feeling like I owe my current employer money.”

“Nesta, sweetie, I love you… BUT YOU NEED TO PUT YOUR DAMN PRIDE TO THE SIDE FOR LIKE, TWO SECONDS AND ACCEPT HELP!”

“FEYRE-”

“Okay, can we yell about Nesta's issues at some time other than 6am? Also, is that bacon I smell?” Mor walked in holding her head and wearing one of Nesta's sweatshirts with some leggings.

“Yes, fattie. And it’s like, 10:30.” Feyre slapped Mor's hand away from a stack of pancakes cooling on the countertop.

“And I do not have any issues, Mor. I’m not the one that went partying with a dog last night.”

“Nesta, that is exactly the reason why you have issues. If you went partying with Duchess, maybe you would loosen up a bit. God knows you need it.”

“Brat.” Nesta threw a piece of toast at Mor's head.

“Thanks! Hey, Feyre, pass the butter.” Feyre slid the butter across the counter and cursed loudly when it just slid on the floor at Mor's feet. Facedown.

“Really, Feyre?” Nesta said in an exasperated tone.

“I’m sorry! I thought she would catch it!”

“That was our last stick of butter, you absolute dingbat!” Nesta sighed and picked up the keys to her car.

“Where are you going?” Mor asked, ever the worried friend thinking she had caused a family feud.

“To the store. We need more milk and eggs anyways. Tell me if you guys are gonna go out while I’m gone.” Nesta walked out the door of their spacious apartment and made her way over to the elevator, pressing the ground level button. She stormed over to her car, got in, and slammed the door shut. On her way to the store, she noticed that one of the local book stores was having a sale. She tried to ignore the voice in her head telling her that she had piles of unread books in her room, and all over the other communal areas of the apartment. She would just pop in after picking up the groceries. No big deal. She could restrain herself. Maybe.

~~~~    

Cassian woke up and made his way down the stairs towards the kitchen at 10am.

Hey sorry don’t be mad but here’s the shopping list. I had to go out.

~Azriel

“Unbelievable.” Cassian sighed and picked up the piece of paper attached to Azriel's little note and crumpled it up. Then he uncrumpled it because he remembered he needed to see what it said. Cassian walked up to his room and threw on a sweatshirt, some slip-on vans, and grabbed his keys. He couldn’t remember why they decided to share groceries. He wanted to in the beginning, but now that he woke up without any food in the house because his brothers had eaten all of it he was thinking or re-evaluating that decision. Cassian slid into his car and made his way to the store.

~~~~

When Nesta pulled up at the store she checked her phone and saw that Feyre had sent her a text while she was driving.

Feyby*: heyyyyyyyyy nes can you pleeeeeeeeeease get me some chocolate while you’re out :)?

Nestella*: k. anything else? im walking in now by the way

Feyby: nope! thank you love you! :)

Nestella: love you too

Nesta made her way towards the dairy aisle and picked up some 2% milk, a pack of four sticks of butter, and eggs. She quickly walked over to the candy aisle and began studying all her options, she took candy selecting very seriously.

“Nes?”

~~~~

Cassian walked into the store and quickly picked up all the stuff on the list. Once he got to the last few items written he realized he wanted ice-cream for a movie night with the boys. He walked over to the dairy aisle and picked up a tub of cookies n’ cream right when Nesta Archeron stormed past him towards the candy aisle. He followed her because, well, he wanted to talk to her. But he needed to act like he wasn't stalking her cause she might yell at him.

“Nes?”

“Mother Above, Cassian! You scared the shit out of me don’t you dare do that ever again!”

Oh well.

“How did you not hear me coming? Are you really that focused on chocolate?”

“I’m selecting some chocolate for Feyre, and she is very picky so I was focused on reading what the ingredients were in each bar.” She seemed to have recovered from the scare because she just grabbed a random chocolate bar and stormed past him.

“Obviously you don’t care that much if you’re willing to just grab a random bar and walk away!” Cassian yelled at Nesta. Some other shoppers began to stare at him so he quickly said “Don’t worry, we work together. I know her, I’m not some random creep haha.” That just got him more strange looks though so he just made his way towards self-checkout and paid for the items and skirted outta there.

~~~~

Nesta was so embarrassed while walking away from Cassian. People were staring at her! Ugh, Cassian needs to learn to not yell in public places. She walked over to her car after checking out and loaded her groceries into the boot. She needed a black iced coffee stat. Nesta began the quick drive to one of the local coffee shops and once she arrived she quickly sent the girls a text letting them know where she was.

Nestella: hey bitches im getting coffee you hoes want anything

Feyby: i want a mocha frappe pleeease              

Tiny Ancient One*: just get me a black americano girl

Mor Boobiez Plz*: i wanna iced coffee with whipped cream and caramel

Nestella: okay for everyone except Mor cause wtf that's not even an item on the menu

Mor Boobiez Plz: it is i swear! just ask them for it they did it when i asked!

Nestella: fine

“What can I get for you?” The guy working the register asked in a very monotone voice.

“One black iced coffee, one black americano, one mocha frappe, and one iced coffee with whipped cream and caramel sauce.”

“We don’t do that last one-” Nesta gave him a withering glare and he immediately changed his mind on what he was about to say.

“Those will be ready soon ma’am. Can I get a name for the order?”

“Nesta. Thank you.” Nesta walked over to the opposite side of the counter to wait while their coffee was being prepared.

“That was quite impressive the way you scared him into doing what you wanted him to, Sweetheart.”

“Cassian! Are you stalking me? Go away.”

“I’m not stalking you, I’m just here to get some coffee.” He smirked at her and picked up a latte that was set down beside him. He took a sip and looked Nesta up and down before smirking and saying “Hot.” he winked at her and left before she could yell at him. If he was being honest the coffee was actually the perfect temperature, but he just loved getting under Nesta Archerons skin.