#like putting magnets that have pictures of the food that's in the fridge on them

[arctic-hands]

My therapist is considering the notion that I may have ADHD after all after previously clearing me of it, but she wants to pull me out of this depressive episode before scheduling with the evaluator at her office

[1d1195]

Toothpaste IV

Read Toothpaste here | ~1.8k words

From me: By popular demand 🦷

Warnings: some sexual tension, some oral fixation, and fairly sexy innuendos. Toothpaste anon, I know what you said but I wanted a really slow burn here. I know, I know. I'm sorry. But not quite yet..

Summary: “Did y’mean it?”

“Mean what?” There was hardly any air left in her lungs so the words she spoke were quiet.

“Y’were falling in love?” He questioned. Her cheeks felt hot. Embarrassed that she said that out loud on their first date.

Harry hurried around to the passenger side and opened the door for her to get out. Although she was already part way through opening it and Harry would have to remember that next time. But right now, he wanted her inside his house and would let it slide. “Let me,” he offered and took the bag of their to go order. She was so goddamn stunning it melted him. He put a hand on her lower back as he ushered her up the steps to his place.

Harry’s house wasn’t huge. It was just him, after all. A cute little porch was at the top of three little steps, a large window to the left of the door but she couldn’t see inside because of the curtains hiding behind the glass. A single chair and end table were in front of the window. A spot for reading and drinking coffee if she had to imagine.

In fact, she imagined Harry sitting there, completing a crossword puzzle first thing in the morning while the sun was still rising. If she lived in his house, she probably wouldn’t use the door to get to the porch. She loved the idea of a window that was large enough to open to the porch. It didn’t make sense. It was right next to the door. But it was adorable. To the right of the door was a large planter filled with colorful flowers and she imagined her extremely attractive dentist, boss, and date tending to a garden. The thought went straight to her heart.

Pulling the key back out of the lock, he opened the door and ushered her inside and closing, the door behind her. He put the bag of food on the entry table right next to the staircase. He reached for her shoulders, sliding his fingers below her hair and tugging the collar of her jacket down.

Her eyes adjusted to the semi-dark. Without any lights on, his place was cast in varying shades of white, gray, and black. But she could make out the room—a couch, a loveseat, and a coffee table. The TV hung above the mantle and fireplace. Paintings hung at regular intervals along the walls. Behind the couch was a bookshelf; each cubby filled with everything Harry enjoyed reading. She crouched immediately to read the titles. Harry brought the food to the kitchen. She didn’t take the books out but she pulled the ones she thought she would like down. “If you can part with these, I’d like borrow them.”

He smiled thoughtfully, leaning on the armrest of the loveseat. He crossed his feet at the ankles and his hands were in his pockets. “Y’can have whatever y’want.”

His kitchen was along the back wall, no dining room, but he had two seats around a small table—like an island in the middle. Everything was decorated so expertly. “Did you decorate yourself?” She asked.

“Gemma helped,” he shrugged. “We have similar taste,” he explained.

Gemma was Harry’s sister and not a reason for her to be jealous. But it seemed they would all get along swimmingly. “Can she help decorate my apartment?”

He chuckled. “M’sure she’d love that.”

She stood up and went to the fridge looking at the pictures and coupons that he had under magnets of places he visited? Maybe? Or maybe they were a souvenir from friends and family. Pictures of Gemma, a sweet little baby girl, and a woman that was most definitely where Harry got his gorgeous looks from adorned the door.

The place was so cozy and warm. She wanted to live there. Not to be dramatic, but whether Harry lived there or not. “I love your house,” she smiled. Harry stayed put at the armrest while he watched her inspect his place. He wanted to give her space and let her make the moves and make sure she was comfortable.

It took every bit of restraint for Harry to say thank you and not, it’s yours regarding her compliment of his home.

He was dead serious in saying she could have whatever she wanted. He was putty in her hands. Wrapped around her finger. Anything she wanted? He was going to give it to her. “Can I take my shoes off?”

He snorted. “Course, y’don’t have t’ask.”

“Well, I didn’t want to be rude.”

He shook his head with a smirk. He went over to the stove, turning on the soft light. It gave the room a romantic feel to it. Like how a couple would slow-dance to nothing but the music in their head. Then he went to her side and immediately dropped to his knees. Her heart skipped a beat. Then it took off rapidly, pounding so loudly she felt it in every inch of her body. She wondered if this was a dream because she would be lying if she hadn’t thought about it a lot in the time that she had known Harry.

His fingers danced at her ankle, skimming softly against her skin, and he coaxed her foot out of one shoe and then the other. He stood slowly, extremely close to her body. Only a breath of space between them. “Does your tooth hurt?” He asked. She shook her head. He smiled. “Good.” Then he kissed her. His hands on her hips and she knew his mouth was already perfect because he was a dentist, but she forgot that kissing would add a whole level to that perfection. He pulled away briefly, his eyes scanning her face for signs of regret. His smile was so pretty, and he sighed like this was the happiest moment of his life. She felt her chest aching something fierce. She slid one hand along the side of his face and the other went around through his soft hair at the back of his head and pulled him back in. He hummed in approval making her shiver involuntarily. “Are y’cold?” He asked against her lips.

“No,” she shook head refusing to talk when his mouth was there to kiss.

His hands reached down further, gripping the back of her thighs and he lifted her onto the counter. Bringing her toward the edge of it so he could settle his hips between her legs and wrap them around his hips. “Did y’mean it?” He asked, his lips peppering kisses along her mouth and face as he allowed her to breathe. Her breath came in quiet gasps. Unbelievably turned on and warm.

His lips followed the length of her jaw all the way to her ear before it took a turn and then descended down her neck. “Mean what?” There was hardly any air left in her lungs so the words she spoke were quiet.

“Y’were falling in love?” He questioned. Her cheeks felt hot. Embarrassed that she said that out loud on their first date. But him kissing her was a good sign, wasn’t it? She didn’t scare him off quite yet. “Don’t be shy now, kitten,” he murmured into her skin. “Told me y’would open wide the second day I met you.”

She huffed out a breath of laughter as his lips trailed across her collarbone to the other side to complete the loop of kisses he was placing along her skin. “I did not say that.”

“Would y’open wide?” He pulled his mouth from her skin. She couldn’t make out the pretty green color, even with the stove light, but she could make out he was gazing at her, his pupils huge and lovely as he eyed her. Her throat felt tight with desire, and she nodded silently. His eyes stayed locked with hers. “Open,” he ordered.

She dropped her jaw. Slowly he drew his hand up her body, making her eyelids flutter as she waited patiently. His hand held the side of her neck and keeping his slow pace he dragged his thumb across her lower lip, then the top one before finally pressing it on her tongue.

“Suck.”

His other hand was holding her thigh still so she knew he would feel the muscle contraction from between her legs and he grunted when her lips closed around his digit.

Then she sucked.

“Fuck,” he hissed. She could feel him hardening between her legs pressed close to her core. “Eyes,” he hummed. She didn’t even realize she had closed them. “Did y’mean it?” He repeated. She had no idea what he was talking about. Her tongue was lapping at his thumb and swirling around it like it was his dick and that made her tighten more as he ground his erection against her. Thank God she wore a dress. “Did y’mean it?” He asked again. “Hmm?” she hummed around his thumb making him inhale sharply at the insinuating vibration. She whimpered softly as he pressed harder onto her tongue. She hollowed her cheeks desperate for more. “Fuck,” he hissed pulling his hand away. “Did y’mean it when y’said y’were falling in love?”

Her shyness returned. Which was beautiful in its own right. The way her mouth closed around his thumb would be a visual that would never leave his mind for long. “Yes,” she whispered and looked down at her lap, right where they were closest to one another.

“Do y’think m’not?” He asked, tilting her chin back up. Her heart fluttered and she felt breathless, stunned, unable to move. Harry was brilliant, had his own practice, and a house that was so goddamn cute she wanted to scream. Falling in love with her? No, she didn’t think she was that lucky. “M’falling very hard for you, kitten,” he assured her and pressed a kiss to her forehead, melting her like she was nothing but candle wax.

“Oh.”

“Yeah...” he glanced down between them, where her core was pressed against his dick aching to escape his pants. Her dress covered her so he couldn’t see but he could feel how warm she was pressed against him. “Do y’want t’go upstairs?” He asked.

She swallowed and nodded.

“We don’t have to,” he assured her. He would probably have to take a cold shower and think about her the whole time, but they didn’t have to do anything if she didn’t want to.

His kindness was sweet, more than adorable. But if his thumb was merely a precursor to what laid ahead? She didn’t want to prolong her pleasure any longer. “Harry,” she giggled quietly. “I have a cavity.”

He tilted his head at her. “Are y’in pain?” He asked, concern filling his voice. He ran his thumb along her jawline, ghosting softly in case it was sensitive and hurt too much with even a touch on the outside of her mouth. He didn’t even care how rapidly the eye-fucking and the dry-humping stopped and changed to talk of toothaches.

“It really needs to be filled,” she said knowingly.

His eyes darted back to hers as realization flooded him. “Oh, fuck yes, love,” he moaned and yanked her toward him, kissed her, and carried her upstairs.

--

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals

@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams

@summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland

@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter

@kissitnhekitchen @kittenhere @stylesfever @indierockgirrl @michellekstyles

@just-another-reader1098 @hermionelove @tiredinwinter @whimsy-willows @hannah9921

@fangirl7060 @triski73 @vikiii07 @prettygurl-2009 @madstyles3204

@angeldavis777 @tchlamqtsgf @lizsogolden @me-undiscovered @you-sunshine

@rose-girls-world @claimingharrystigertattoo

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[vivwritesfics]

Keep on Rolling - MV1

Chapter 2.5

Summary: Lando's best friend having feelings for anyone on the grid? Impossible, right? She worked with them, sharing her friendship with the grid with the world via the FormulaY/N youtube channel.

After film a video including... spicy water (alcohol), everything changes between her and a certain world champion. Good thing she hasn't had a crush on him since his F1 debut, right?

Right?

500 words

This one is just a filler chapter. You don't have to read it for the rest of the story, but it may come up again (this'll just give context to something coming up later in the story)

Series Masterlist

"You look like shit," said Charles as he walked over to Y/N. She looked up at him and glared, although he couldn't see it through her sunglasses.

"You don't and I hate you for it," she threw back.

Charles sat on the chair beside her. "That's because most of us stopped drinking when we felt tipsy. Because we're, you know, grown-up, sensible Formula One drivers," he explained.

"Ass," she muttered under her breath. "Can we go and get food?"

Charles stood up and helped Y/N to her feet. They left the hotel and wandered around the streets of Miami until they found a quaint little cafe.

With seats out front and a bookshelf in the back. It wasn't that busy, and the pastries displayed in the window looked lovely. The seating area in front of the cafe was surrounded with bright and colourful flowers. The seats themselves were black and metal, covered in cushions that looked designed by Cath Kidston. Umbrellas covered them, keeping the seats in the shade.

Y/N sat down while Charles went inside and got them their coffees. He came back out and sat beside opposite Y/N. She still hadn't taken off the sunglasses. "Have you seen the footage from last night yet?" He asked.

A waitress came over with a tray full of coffee and pastries. She set them down, tucked the tray under her arm and walked away.

Picking up the coffee, Y/N took a long sip. "Not yet," she said. "I don't think I'm brave enough to look at it."

Charles let out something close to a giggle. Not quite a laugh but still more than a giggle. "You should be looking forward to it. It was good fun," he said, picking up his pastry.

"I need to tell you something," she said suddenly and put down her coffee. This was serious. Charles still had a hold of his pastry, but he wasn't eating it, instead waiting for Y/N to say something. She took in a breath and began. "Last night, after you all left, Max stayed behind."

Charles' eyes went wide. "You didn't..."

"No! No, Charles, no. Oh my god, no. At least, I don't think so. He was still dressed and I was under the covers, so I think we're in the clear," she explained and went back to drinking her coffee.

"So Max took care of you when you were drunk. What's the problem with that?"

Y/N's empty coffee cup hit the little dish it usually sat in. "The problem is that I... liked waking up beside him," she said, nibbling on her pastry. Her head was far too sore for this.

"You have a crush on Max?"

She shook her head. "Crush is such a childish word. Let's just say I have a thing for him and I wouldn't mind if he had a thing for me."

They finished up in the coffee shop and left, wandering around the streets of Miami. They didn't go back to the hotel room right away. Y/N went into a shop, one specifically for tourists, and bought a fridge magnet. To commemorate the trip, she thought, justifying her purchase.

Like she needed any more memories from this trip.

(The middle picture is the design I picture on the seat covers)

Taglist (Open): @sticksdoesart @eviethetheatrefreak @eugene-emt-roe @glai1023-blog @mqcherie @itsjustkhaos @chonkybonky

[star-wrote]

ANYFING WITH FLUFFY MUEPHY MACMANUS PLES PLES PLES PLES LMAOOO

Mo Stór

ao3 link

Characters: Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

A/N: loving the energy in this request, anon. if you had a tail, it would be wagging LMAO. i’m sorry this took AGES, but i hope you enjoy anyway! <3

Warnings: cussing, bad irish accent writing, fluff, domestic bliss, seriously it’s so fluffy

Word Count: 817

Dating Murphy MacManus isn’t the easiest thing in the world. In fact, if you were to ask his brother, he’d say something along the lines of “Dunno how ya put up with us being vigilantes and shit, lass.”

You and Murphy have had countless talks about him and his brother’s “hobby,” half of them ending in you begging to join him. He would never let you, it’s too dangerous.

So you work your job to support yourself and the boys. You don’t mind it really, they treat you like their queen. Usually, they’re home when you get off work. Walking in to a warm dinner, even if it was a frozen pizza, was a feeling you wish for every good person on earth.

Other nights, like tonight, the brothers wouldn’t be home. You couldn’t help the feeling of anxiety that went to that pit in your stomach. You rush to the note on the refrigerator, ripping it from the magnet that also held up a picture of you and Murphy kissing. Both the picture and the magnet fell off the fridge as you read the note.

“Went to grab Chinese takeaway for dinner. Be back soon x.”

You sighed in relief as you read Murphy’s chicken scratch handwriting. You remembered the magnet and picture that fell, and quickly retrieved them off of the floor. You smiled as you pinned the picture back to the fridge and silently thanked Connor for capturing that moment on camera.

It had been a long night at McGinty’s, and Doc had kept the rounds coming. You had somehow convinced Murphy to dance with you; it must have been the David Bowie song playing. At the end of the song, he dipped you down like you were in some kind of romance movie, and gave you one of many kisses that you two have shared in that bar. Once he heard the click of the camera, he gently dropped you to the floor and shoved his brother, trying to grab the camera. You laughed on the bar floor as he successfully got the camera and pocketed it. He must not have been too upset about the picture since he printed it out the next day.

You heard the door open while you were reminiscing, interrupted by the familiar sound of the twins bickering; this time about chopsticks.

Connor calls your name as he shuts the door. “Are ya gonna use chopsticks?”

You smile as Murphy rolls his eyes and sets the food down on the table. He makes his way over to you and kisses your cheek.

“Yeah, of course,” you answer Connor, “are you?”

He pulls two wrapped pairs of chopsticks out of his pocket and hands you one. “Of course! Murph here wouldn’t let me grab three because he doesn’t know how to use them.”

You look at Murphy who rolls his eyes again as he grabs your hips to slide past you and take a fork from the drawers. He grumbles out “I’m fuckin’ Irish, don’t need to know how, eejit.”

You giggle as you hug him from behind. “I’m pretty sure the Irish didn’t invent the fork either, Murphy.”

He tried to frown, but one side of his mouth lifted. “Are we gonna eat this shite or not?”

After dinner and the nightly movie, you and Murphy retired to your shared bedroom. You were glad that the movie finished because it was Connor’s night to pick, and he picked the worst possible movie on earth, as usual.

You had both changed into your sleep clothes, and brushed your teeth together, smiling at each other in the mirror.

This was your favorite part of the day. You and Murphy got to cuddle in bed and just look at each other. His hand was on your cheek and his thumb was smoothing out your skin.

“Mo stór.” Murphy interrupts the silence.

You smile at him. “What’s that?”

“My darling.”

You kiss his forehead. “Yeah, I am.”

He smiles and kisses your lips gently.

You rest your forehead on his. “For a second I thought you were asking me to marry you or something.”

Without hesitation, he answers, “I would.”

You bring your head up from the pillow and lift your eyebrows in surprise at him.

He notices the shock on your face and scrambles to say something else. “I mean I don’t have a ring for you or anything. But I would get one. I just know that God sent you to me. I may be a saint, but you’re an angel, lass.”

He grabs your hand and kisses the top of it.

“It seems like it would be a pretty divine marriage if you ask me.”

You feel a tear fall from your eye. “Oh my god.”

He smirks as he wipes the tear from your face and chides, “Lord’s name, love.”

You giggle and then nod.

“Let’s do it.”

[mistchievous]

The Fridge Magnet Theory: Eddie Begins Edition

We don’t get our typical fridge content in this episode, but we do see the Diaz fridge in El Paso multiple times. And a lot is happening there! 

This episode sort of stands on its own, so it gets its own post! 👏

Click here for the OG Fridge Magnet Theory Post that focuses on the Diaz fridge in LA!

To begin, @catdadeddie pointed out to me in DM that in the earliest flashback where he’s back on break, the fridge is blank. There’s nothing on the fridge at all.

Yet, when we get a later flashback scene, that’s changed.

There’s now boxed food on top of the fridge (the El Paso Taco Kit, Nesquik, applesauce most likely, and a box of Reynolds aluminum foil) vs. her making a meal in the earlier flashback. In the words of @stagefoureddiediaz ‘pre packaged food [is] a recurring theme that the show has been using - with Buck and Taylor and even to a certain extent we see the same concept with Chim and Tatiana (and with Maddie but there is a whole other load of stuff going on there about Chim making things easy on her in light of Doug etc) and even Chim as fire captain - having to order pizza because the role doesn’t quite fit him (at that point in time.)’

She continues with “the choice to have real food v boxed food in those two scenes is telling - [Shannon’s] still putting effort into their relationship in the first one but the boxed food in the second [one] shows she stopped - it’s like foreshadowing that’s she’s no longer in the relationship and that she’s gonna leave...”

@catdadeddie then goes to point out that the fridge now being decorated hints at the fact that it’s Eddie who does the decorating with Christopher as it only seems to happen once he’s been around for a bit and then later in LA in the home they share without Shannon.

And when we zoom in on the fridge itself, things start getting very interesting.

On both sides of the fridge are pictures presumably drawn by Christopher. On the left side is a picture with two fish - a larger fish and a smaller fish. @stagefoureddiediaz also notes that ‘the water is green - like the light makes the water in the real world’ referring to the light Eddie is shining when he’s escaping from being trapped in the well.

It’s fittingly being held up by a crane and a racecar. The crane of course being a callback to the crane collapsing, and the racecar being a sign of the race against time. The racecar could also be looked at as a sort of getaway car as Shannon flees and abandons Eddie and Chris in this episode. And then Eddie flees with Chris to start over in LA away from his parents.

The big fish and the little fish swimming in the water (ocean?) could be a callback to Buck and Chris together in the tsunami. @stagefoureddiediaz also notes that there’s somewhat of a continuing Finding Nemo reference here. The fact that Eddie in this episode also needs to ‘just keep swimming’.

The cement truck easily connects to Eddie being buried underground due to the well collapse and is likely foreshadowing the mudslide coming at the beginning of Season 4, but it, the cherry picker to the right, and the crane calling back to the accident can all be looked at through a lens of construction which is a theme that continues to pop up over and over again in reference to relationships (think ‘there was construction on Sunset’ and ‘you don’t find it; you make it’). And there are quite a few possible relationships being laid out on this fridge. We’re gonna go through them together!

(The entire right side of the fridge seems devoted to relationships actually, with the self-portrait of Christopher with the ‘C’ on his chest taking center stage.

As a note from @stagefoureddiediaz​, ‘chris drawing himself with a c on his chest - like superman - which is Eddie’s nickname for him 🥺🥺🥺’)

There are a few theories to address here. You may prefer one over the other, or like us, you may choose to see all of them as playing a bit of a role here with the things on this fridge continuing to give us double-meanings. But for the sake of this post and clarity, it’s best to break them down separately.

Theory One: The A and B magnets are indicative of Chris’ relationships with his grandparents vs. his parents.

In the words of @like-the-rest-of-la, ‘Chris is alone in it. Furthermore, the drawing in itself is removed to the side from Eddie and Shannon here. I feel like this might play into the fact that they aren't a real unit here. That might also be further acknowledged in the mismatching of the B and A in particular. Normally, you have ABC going together, but each of them is basically on their own here.

In terms of fonts in logo-design, Serif-Fonts are often used for more classic-brands or to convey seriousness, or they are part of a grown logo (typeface), like Burberry e.g.... so, the Chris drawing being held up by the serif-A (which clearly is not part of a set a child would play with or learn letters with) and the broad B... idk, the serif font could also be representative of Eddie's parents on one side, as like, the "seasoned" parents who supposedly have all the experience, and then the bold and broad B, which is a sans-serif font and usually more used for something, Children would play with, could stand for the less experienced parents, Eddie and Shannon. It's interesting, that Chris, in this pic, is still navigating towards his "inexperienced" parents than his "experienced" grandparents

(also side-note, it's a bit of bad practice in terms of readability and accessibility, to use lots of italics in text), so while it might seem good and “noble”, the serif-font-'A' that is in italics/slanted is also more complicated and not that easy to read… which speaks volumes about the relationships at play here)‘

Theory Two: The A and B magnets are indicative of Chris’ relationships or possible relationships with Buck and Ana.

In the words of @theyarnmaidstale, ‘Maybe the B and the A being some kind of symbolism for Buck and Ana being candidates for the role of another parent/caregiver for Christopher with how they're holding up the doodle of him....’ and the words of @stagefoureddiediaz ‘which is interesting if you also consider they are the ones holding up the picture and that the b is closer to [the] drawing [...] than the a is...’

The A for Ana being in a different font style than the other three letters and so far away from Chris could mean that despite her potential as a caregiver, she doesn’t quite fit. This is more interesting to think about when you remember the costuming parallel between Shannon and Ana in this episode as well.

Theory Three: This concludes the same as Theory Two and addresses the X and F as a crossroads for Eddie.

@evcndiaz summed it up perfectly: ‘don't think the X is an X in this context. I think it's a crossroads.

It's like... think of a railroad crossing sign when you're driving. It's not a cross, it's an X. So if we extrapolate that idea to what we see here, we see Eddie at a crossroads with Buck (and all the nuance that entails with his own queerness, happiness, and freedom sitting at the forefront) and Ana on the other (with all the nuance that entails, with him doing what's expected of him, being what people expect him to be, etc). But consider also where the X is positioned. These are Eddie's memories in Eddie Begins, which means they haven't happened yet. Therefore, the X being positioned above the B and the A indicates a decision yet to be made in the future, and between obviously indicates the decision between Buck/Ana. Considering Eddie gets shot only a handful of days after his conversation with Carla about following his heart in 4x13, that could be considered the moment in which he makes that definitive choice even if he doesn't actually break up with her until 5x3 (which means the shooting really was Eddie's oh moment, but I won't go insane about that right now).

For the "F," I think it's really possible it just means "family." In the context of everything else I just said, put it all together and that would mean Eddie will be at a crossroads with what it means to have/be family, with Buck on one side and Ana on the other (which also makes sense within the context of his panic attack, trying to make himself have feelings for her, the idea of a readymade family with Ana when he was already building one with Buck...)’

Theory Four: This also concludes the same as Theory Two, but the X and F are math related. Math, of course, being a recurring connection to relationships.

The X being the common variable and the F being function.

@stagefoureddiediaz @like-the-rest-of-la​ and @theyarnmaidstale​ all separately in different chats made the connection to math.

@theyarnmaidstale​ pointed out ‘In Algebra (ooooo Math! Ana!) X also sorta symbolizes the known and unknown in terms of variables being solved for. The shift between what he knows: his life in Texas, his and Shannon's marriage falling apart, and the uncertainty of what's to come: his life changing in California/the move and starting over’ and posted this screenshot as a definition for function.

She continued with ‘The relationship between him and Ana! Him and Buck! Him and Shannon! Him and his career! Him and Chris! CHRIS' RELATIONSHIPS WITH THEM!‘

In another room, @stagefoureddiediaz​ was saying ‘What if we went with a math theme - both x and f are used in mathematical equations

X being the variable and f being the function. Not to mention the fact that a in math can mean average’

And in yet another room, @like-the-rest-of-la​ was saying ‘I don't know why, but somehow the F, X ... and also the way the ladder truck thingy looks at first glance, it almost feels like part of a mismatched Maths-equation? which... would be very nerdy of the stage design team but... idk, f(x) was my first thought’

Three people simultaneously and separately reaching the same conclusion says a lot about the intention of the writers. A recurring theme was noticed and picked up on.

Theory Five: The framing of Shannon blocking the magnets is intentional and important and stays in line with the ‘B’ and ‘A’ being representative of Buck and Ana.

Towards the end of their argument, Shannon goes to do something at the bar and moves back and forth in a way that covers the ‘A’ and then the ‘B’ multiple times with only one visible each time as though broadcasting that there’s a decision to be made between the two.

Then @like-the-rest-of-la​ and @theladyyavilee​ point out that she stops moving and places her hands on the bar and leans over it blocking the picture of Chris, the ‘A’ magnet, and the ‘B’ magnet.

She then moves just slightly and reveals only the ‘B’.

Theory Six: If you’re like me, literally all or some of the above tie together for you, and there are dual meanings for the things we’re seeing here. I refuse to pick a theory. They’re all valid and correct.

Before we end, @stagefoureddiediaz​ wants to note that ‘Also - something something about the B being buck and it showing his presence in Eddie’s memories - as he’s working things out - that buck is ever present even when he isn’t yet part of their lives - Eddie’s subconscious directing him towards his future - pointing towards the will change and the fact that the other more recent flashbacks were buddifer coded.’

And @yramesoruniverse​ wants to remind that it’s all about the water. ‘The big fish and little fish I can't...could have a double meaning, of course the tsunami and buck and chris, but also eddie and chris and the general theme of water. Emerging from the water..’

They emerged from the water in the tsunami, Eddie emerged from the water in Eddie Begins, and there’s the theme of water from 06x13 (here’s a collection of links for that episode).

Hope you have fun with all of this. See ya next time! 😘

[wordnerdworld]

NaClYoHo Wrap-ups

Another project that was on my NaClYoHo list that I never quite got to was reorganizing my kitchen cabinets, specifically my spice/baking/tea cabinet. I recently had a frustrating cooking experience (being out of spices I thought I had), so I decided to go ahead and order some organizers to help me get things under control and dove in today.

Here are the (mostly)Before pictures:

Spice/tea/baking Cabinet:

Uhhh, glassware cabinet?

Counter where I'd started to move stuff out of those two cabinets + other items that had collected:

I bought two organizers to help get things put away in a manner that would hopefully leave them easily accessible/viewable so I don't keep accidentally buying multiple of the same spice (I have multiple things of Cream of Tartar, Cardamom, Garam Masala, and Mustard Seed currently, Please send recipes.). I also specifically needed something for my hot sauce collection (a friend got me an advent calendar).

For the spice cabinet, I got a 3-step, expandable acrylic organizer. At first, I thought it was going to be waaaay too big. but it actually works out reallywell.

It's on the second shelf from the bottom. On the left side are misc. short spices in the front and all my "whole seed" spices in the back. On the right are duplicate/replacement spices in the back and misc. tall spices in the front.

I tossed some things that had expired about 2 years ago, and I'm hoping the brown sugar will soften up some and become more scoopable.

I also bought a set of really cool magnetic spice racks! For storing my hot sauces.

They stick to the side of my fridge, so I had zero installation difficulty. And I tried to roughly group them by type so it'll be easier to find whatever I'm in the mood to try. Not sure what I'll use this for once I use up those sauces. But clearly that's not gonna happen for a while. (This is not, by any means, all the hot sauce I own. I've got....7 or so full-size bottles of stuff elsewhere. Really need to start using these up!)

There were 4 racks in the set, and I didn't have room to stick the 4th one to the fridge b/c of how the cabinets open. So I used it to store my daily seasonings instead:

On the left is a Whiskey Habanero hot sauce I've been enjoying. On the right is a packet of hot toddy mix I kinda-sort forgot I had. Gonna try to use it up this winter! Tucked just behind it is a little journal where I can keep notes about the different hot sauces I try.

The Glassware cabinet didn't get much reorganization. I mostly just found some vases and other things to donate that I don't use.

That rectangular jar on the left in the second shelf holds dried chili peppers, btw. Can you tell I like spicy food?

I've also clearly reached a certain phase of adulthood that has a lot in common with early childhood and pet-hood. Being stupidly happy about cardboard boxes!

I was almost happier about the fact that my new things came in a cardboard box that is perfect for collecting my donation items than I was about the organizers themselves, lol.

I'm hoping that reorganizing these cabinets and making my various sauces/spices more accessible will encourage me to cook more often. I really enjoy it, but it's one of those things my depression has really impacted.

I currently have a roast in the crock pot (good vehicle for hot sauce) and plan to saute some spinach and zucchini to go with it (good time to use a spice blend). We'll see how that goes.

[paladincecil]

Got all my figures setup here for now! Socks was curious about what I was doing xD Whenever I finally get around to getting some shelving sorted I'll move them to a better spot.

There's a bunch of close ups of all my new ones and the other stuff my best friend got me from Japan below :D

1: A monster hunter glasses cloth! 2: Physical copy of the pixel remasters for ff1-6!(I paid for this one. This version has pixel art of all the characters on the inside of the case as well :D) + FF4-6 on ps1 3: The little message on the inside of the ff4-6 collection. I have no idea what it says :D It also comes with a lovely manual as well full of cool art! 4: The discs of ff4-6 with stunning art from each of the games on them! 5: They went to the eorzea cafe and they got a little art card for each thing they ordered. This is about half of them. We split them so I got the ffxiv exclusive ones and he got the summons from ARR. There was 2 ifrits so I got the spare of that one :D 6: A dragoon job stone magnet that is already on my fridge :P 7: Paladin Cecil play arts figure! This is him from the original Dissidia game! IT ME TUMBLR NAME!!! 8: This one is for Socks. It's a cute little plate with a little kitty cook that I'm 100% calling a mh palico chef even if it isn't xD It's nice and shallow and is slightly raised so it's perfect for a cat food bowl! I'm going slow with it though cuz he's used the same plates for like 7 years now xD 9-15: The next 7 are all from the complete collection of volume 25 of the monster hunter blind boxes! There's Chaotic Gore Magala, Scorned Magnamalo, Bloodening Malzeno, Gold Rathian, Silver Rathalos, Giasmagorm, and finally each of the boxes the previous 6 came in all had these weird blue parts and when you put them together you get the special version of Giasmagorm! They all came with a little sticker as well :) 16: I forgot to take a picture of these setting them up cuz I'd already put them on my shelf when I got in last night xD We've got the silly monke Rajang :), Then there's Kirin that was my first introduction to the blind boxes from my friend jay a couple years ago, and finally A lil Palico from mh4u wearing khezu armour!

Overall a crazy amount of stuff and I love it all! I was expecting a single blind box, the final fantasy collection, pixel remaster, and the plate. I ended up with all this xD

He a real good friend :)

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

243 of 2023

1.) What was the last strong scent you smelled?

Somebody used too much perfume. I could smell it all the way in the tram.

2.) When was the last time you changed your outfit?

I put on a new one today morning.

3.) What did you buy the last time you went shopping for new clothes?

I made an online order yesterday. Last time in person, a week ago in Kortrijk.

4.) What is your favorite meal of the day?

Lunch, probably.

5.) Do you typically eat breakfast or skip it?

I try to eat breakfast every day, for my medicines.

6.) What was the last thing you took a picture of?

A church in Diksmuide.

7.) Do you have a collection of anything?

Yeah. Pens, notebooks, fridge magnets, postcards, keyrings.

8.) What was the last thing you threw away?

Expired food.

9.) What is the cause of your current emotional state?

Just life going chill.

10.) What were the last plans you made? How about cancelled?

I don’t cancel plans. Last thing was planning my trip to my parents, don’t know when it’s gonna happen, but still.

11.) How did you discover your favorite band?

I was just looking for something dark, heavy and atmospheric at the same time.

12.) Does the weather affect your mood? If so, in what ways?

Yeah, it does. Long rainy days get me depressed.

13.) When are you most likely to be bored?

Never. Intelligent people never get bored.

14.) What was the last big decision you made?

Coming back to work when I was finally allowed.

15.) Where was the last place you traveled to, and what did you do while there?

Diksmuide. It’s a city not far from my hometown, and yet I’ve been there for the first time in my life. I took some photos.

16.) What is your favorite thing to go shopping for?

Office supplies.

17.) How organized are you?

At work, very much. In my planners, equally much.

18.) What were the positives and negatives of your last week?

Positives: nice travels, going to work, new nice things from a shop, Easter. Negatives: sick note from work, long and boring trainings when coming back, having to stay here for Easter.

19.) If applicable, how did you decide what you wanted to study in college/university?

Electrical engineering.

20.) What was the last thing you received in the mail?

Package with some fridge magnets.

21.) What is one of your wildest dreams or ambitions?

Being 100% healthy.

22.) When was the last time you performed in front of a group of people?

20 years ago?

23.) Who was the last person to upset you? How about the last person to cheer you up?

My husband has upset me, and Nielsje cheered me up.

24.) Is there anything or anyone you’re trying to get over or let go of?

I’m still yet to accept my disorder, and I just can’t.

25.) What was the subject of your last phone conversation?

Coming back home from a short trip.

26.) What are your plans for tomorrow? How about the weekend?

Tomorrow I’m going to work. At weekend, groceries.

27.) When was the last time you were sick?

Two months ago or so. It wasn’t anything serious, though.

28.) How close do you have to be with someone before you’ll consider them a friend?

Very close, and to know them very well.

29.) What did the last jacket you wore look like?

It was a black leather jacket.

30.) Name five things you can grab from where you’re sitting.

A pen, a calendar, a box of tissues, a book, my husband.

[writing-funsies]

OP characters with artist s/o P.2

p.1 | p.2 | p.3 | p.4 | p.5 | p.6

pairings: Marco x reader, Ace x reader, Thatch x reader

warnings: none

Marco

he finds your talent interesting

I feel like this man could draw a straight line no problem

or even a perfect circle

but he wouldn't know how to make those things into a picture

so seeing the way you put all of the pieces together

is always so satisfying to watch

he likes listening to your pencil scratch against the paper while he works

you spend a lot of time sketching him hunched over his desk with piles upon piles of paperwork stacked above him

maybe you exaggerated your art a bit

but it's basically the same as real life

he doesn't find it as funny when you mindlessly draw him as a pineapple

he finds it even less funny when some of his crewmates get ahold of those sketches

politely asks you to not draw him like that

though his smile is a little strained

and threatening

best to keep the hyperrealistic Marco the pineapple drawing a secret

you doodle on his paperwork sometimes

which Pops finds amusing

but Marco does not

but he's not going to tell you that

if people wanted crisp forms

they shouldn't have given all of them to Marco

whenever the two of you go on dates 

he plans for you to get some sketch time in

so he always takes you to the prettiest spot on whatever island you've stopped at

though he always says that you're the prettiest thing he's ever seen

you might do a small self-portrait to give him for his birthday

just so he can always have you and your art with him

Ace

first things first, he begs you to design a tattoo for him

he's seen your skills

and he loves your art style

so if you really love him

you'll do it

and you do draw one

it could be the worst thing in the world

and this man would still get it tattooed on him

he has a bad habit of accidentally burning your pictures

fire and paper don't really get along

so you have to use specially treated canvasses or sketchbooks

or you might work with clay

if you create sculptures

Ace would happily bake them for you

he'd probably have to

Thatch thinks your skills are cool and all

but he really doesn't want to take the chance of poisoning the whole crew

Ace loves to pose for you

he just has to pick a pose he can fall asleep in

like Luffy, he does get a little stir crazy

he needs to move around so he doesn't get too hyper

but he'll sit by your side for hours on end

just to watch you work

he makes sure you take breaks and drink some water

it's not good to stare at one thing for days at a time

and you need to stay hydrated

these breaks always allow you to gain some new insight for your piece

so if you were getting frustrated because you weren't sure what your art needed

the break gives you time to refresh and look at the whole composition with new eyes

Thatch

he wants you to draw him 

all

the 

time

you took it upon yourself to make his hair bigger each time you do

but only slightly

so it wasn't that noticeable until you were like 20 sketches in

he loves when you sit with him in the kitchen while working

as long as you're not in the way

he doesn't want to ruin those pretty little pictures of yours

Thatch would be the type of person to hang your art everywhere

it doesn't matter if you think it deserves to be on the wall or not

he'll hang them in his room

on the kitchen walls

on the fridge

in the showers

in the hallways

on Pop's chair

okay, maybe not that last one

but I could see a type of challenge between him and the others to put your art there

he loves your art

he loves everything you make

he also loves to make the cringiest puns about it as well

by any sketch of the imagination

good things come to those hue wait

beige magnet

ready pen you are

Thatch adores how focused you get sometimes

but you still need to eat

so he'll make you your favorite food

and drag you away to get some fresh air

how are you supposed to keep drawing amazing things if you never take a break?

he's your biggest supporter after all

[flwrsuh]

christmas with stray kids!

summary ; stray kids as christmas themed activities !

pairing ; skz x gn!reader

warnings ; mentions of food.

a/n ; this was requested!! this was my favorite thing to write i am so in love with christmas stray kids. happy holidays everyone !!

༉‧₊˚✧ chan

ice skating!

oh my gosh this would be so fun

he would pick you up for a date, not telling you where it is you were going

imagine your surprise when he pulls into the parking lot of an outdoor ice skating rink !

it would be all decorated for the holidays with christmas lights everywhere and it's just so so pretty

you would probably need to use those things that little kids use and hold onto so they don't fall on the ice LOL

he just skates circles around you while you're barely moving and trying not to fall over

once you start to get a little more used to it, channie would grab your hands and hold onto you to keep you steady :(((

asking strangers to take pictures of the two of you for him to send to his family omg

would buy you hot chocolate after and walk around the city with you until it was time to go back home <33

༉‧₊˚✧ minho

taking pictures for a christmas card!

he would take this so seriously

getting matching outfits for you and the cats :((

he spent all week preparing the perfect christmas backdrop for your photos

if you mess around too much, he will not hesitate to remind you how important these photos are

"y/n, you have to take this seriously! these are going on the christmas cards!"

come on y/n, be more professional

you would be sitting in a chair, cat in your arms, for hours if he thought it was necessary

he did think it was necessary.

after all of his hard work, he smiles so wide looking at all of the amazing family photos you took !

he's so proud of them he probably makes a fridge magnet with his favorite of the photos

༉‧₊˚✧ changbin

gift shopping!

changbin wanted to bring you along christmas shopping with him !

him and the other members decided to do a secret santa gift exchange together

changbin had gotten chan

he had no idea what to get him and he needed all the help he could get

walking around the crowded mall hand in hand while holiday music plays softly through the intercoms <33

you would have to do most of the work here because, like i said before, poor binnie is absolutely clueless

the two of you settle on a nice hoodie for chan's gift

after a long day of shopping, he takes you out for dinner as a thank you for all of your help !

༉‧₊˚✧ hyunjin

making a gingerbread house!

he's actually so good at this

he got one of those pre-made houses from the store because there was no way the two of you could make one from scratch

he gets really intense while putting the frosting on the walls of the house

gets even more intense and focused while sticking the walls together

no sudden moves, y/n.

of course he would still have fun with it and mess around with you a bit

probably wipes the extra frosting on your nose

he would kiss it off for you :((

you both would argue over how to decorate the outside of the house

he wants to use a gumdrop as a doorknob and you want to make one out of frosting

takes hours to finish, but once it's done, it looks amazing

it's a mix of both of your design ideas and you both love it !

༉‧₊˚✧ jisung

building a snowman!

i'm not going to reference frozen i won't do it

but anyway

jisung would be so excited to build a snowman with you !

probably waited all year for it to snow so he could build one :((

he would try to make it look like one of the members, and it would not work out

the snowman is a little lumpy and deformed, but you both worked so hard on it, you love it anyway

he would let you add the finishing touches

the scarf, the nose, and whatever hat he could find in the dorm that would fit your crazy looking snowman

names him your ship name :((

he would take so many pictures of your snowman to remember the moment !

༉‧₊˚✧ felix

having a snowball fight! (ft. changbin)

okay, i know jisung's and felix's are both about snow

but we've all seen the busan fan sign snow video i couldn't not do this

felix would be so competitive

he would invite changbin to join his team so he wins

"lix that's not fair! it's two against one!"

he can't hear you he's too busy building snowballs to throw in your direction

hiding behind a tree and giggling every time he hits you with one

afterward, you go inside for some hot chocolate and christmas movies !

he definitely would buy you matching christmas pajamas

and you better like them

༉‧₊˚✧ seungmin

looking at christmas lights!

this is such a perfect holiday date i love this

walking around the city with seungmin at night

you walk into a random neighborhood and see all the beautifully decorated houses !

he would definitely take pictures of you while you weren't looking

he just thinks you look so pretty when you're excited about things :(

more admiring you than the lights

he would pull you into him as you walk to "keep you warm"

but he really just wanted an excuse to be close to you

not that he even needed one

༉‧₊˚✧ jeongin

decorating the christmas tree!

he would have all the ornaments and decorations ready for when you got there

he would take this so seriously it would be so cute 😭

he probably has a color scheme for all the ornaments and decorations so everything matches

helps you put up all the ornaments that are too high on the tree for you to reach :((

i feel like he would reassure you that you’re doing a good job pretty often

“that looks amazing, y/n!”

and ofc he means it !!

[abcdefuk-off]

Eddie had forgotten about it.  

The heart on the fridge.  

Well, not really forgotten, he saw it multiple times a day – just that morning he had smiled at it when he opened the fridge door – but it wasn’t like he consciously considered it.  Mind you, if he had been thinking about it before Buck had come over to spend the Saturday with them, Eddie still wouldn’t have moved it. He enjoyed seeing that goofy little heart, it made him smile - and not only him; just the other morning he had heard Christopher giggling as he retrieved the milk for his cereal.  Eddie had asked his son what had him so amused (Chris was more of a morning person than Eddie, but he was hardly cheery during those too-early hours before heading off to school) the young boy had given a shake of his head that could be described as nothing other than fond, as he had pointed at the paper stuck to the fridge.  The goofy image had brought smiles to both the Diaz boys, and smiles had been far too few in that house as of late – Eddie wasn’t about to take away anything that brought joy, no matter how silly it might seem.  

So, no, it wasn’t like Eddie forgot about it.

But, yeah, he forgot about it.  

read on A03

“In the kitchen!”  He called out as he heard Buck coming in the front door.  He was sure the younger man would have found him eventually, but he wanted help packing the cooler and if he didn’t snag Buck’s attention before he went searching for Christopher, he was sure to lose them both to his son’s newest lego set.  

“The rain is supposed to hold off until tonight so we should be…”  Buck faded off, as though his thought had taken off without him.

Eddie glanced over his shoulder from where he was slapping sandwiches together – they were headed to the zoo shortly and the older man was not about to fork out for that overpriced food, so he was packing lunches and snacks for the three of them, Buck had called him cheap for doing as much (after offering to pay, of course, to which Eddie gave a stern ‘no’ because it was the principle of the matter), Eddie preferred to think of it as being financially conscious.

“You- I didn’t know…”  Buck stuttered, his eyes locked on the fridge.

Eddie watched the taller man as he appeared to be gathering his thoughts, his mouth opening and closing a few times as his gaze remained glued to the appliance.  

“I didn’t know you kept that.”  

Ah, a full sentence, well done, Buckley. Eddie nearly spoke that thought aloud, but then Buck glanced over at him, and there was just something a little too vulnerable in his best friend’s expression, so he held back the tease.

Eddie shrugged. Truth was, it wasn’t like he had any intentions to get the thing framed or put it in a security deposit box to treasure for always; he found it funny when Buck had explained how he did in fact misunderstand the assignment, and when he placed his son’s drawing in his backpack that night, he had been left with Buck’s picture in his hand – the damn thing was just too cute to toss in the trash, so he’d stuck it to the fridge without too much thought.  

“It was just a dumb…”  Buck released a huff.  Eddie’s eyebrow rose at the younger man’s obvious frustration.  “You don’t have to put it on there.”  He finished.

Eddie frowned, he didn’t get what the big deal was, sure it was just a silly drawing, but it wasn’t as nearly as absurd as Buck was making it sound to have it where it was. Christopher’s art often graced the fridge here and there (although he preferred to display it in his bedroom), occasionally his report card would end up under a magnet for a week or two, before it joined all the others that Eddie had filed away.  The Diaz fridge wasn’t ever cluttered, but it certainly wasn’t rare for Eddie to stick things on it, notes to and from Carla about schedules or upcoming appointments, field trip forms, new PT exercises that had to be worked into their routine – Buck had put a note on the fridge just a few days ago telling Eddie which meals he had premade for the week and the oven temperature and time they were to be heated up at (because the dork was an absolute control freak in the kitchen).  

“I know I don’t have to.”  He explained, turning more fully to face his visibly perplexed best friend.  “Chris and I like it, so it’s up there.”  He stated with another shrug, a twitch of a grin pulling up the corner of his mouth as he glanced over at that smiley heart.  His gaze moved back to Buck, who was still frowning down at his drawing.  

“But it’s not - it isn’t.  It shouldn’t be up there.”  He finished with a sigh, before looking over at Eddie, who was struck immediately with the lost look in those bright blue eyes.

Eddie wiped his sticky jam hands on the cloth as he moved to fully face Buck, realizing that a conversation was needing to be had; and honestly, he was just happy as fuck it wasn’t about him and all his issues right now, because this time Buck was the one being weird.  

“And why shouldn’t it be up there?”  Eddie questioned, prodding patiently with a calm voice – much like Buck had been doing for him so often lately.  

The younger man seemed stumped by the question.  His face was pinched like he didn’t like the taste in his mouth, and he kept chewing away at his bottom lip the way he often did when he was unsure about something.  The long frame was also curling in on itself, the way it seemed to when Buck was feeling insecure, like he wanted to take up less space, make himself smaller.  And that was just wrong.  

Buck was never insecure in the Diaz home.  He was all confidence.  He had never been a guest, not in this house.  Eddie had made sure Buck knew he was always welcome and it hadn’t taken long for the younger man to trust that fact.  Whenever he was around Buck arranged the menu and ran the kitchen, he helped with chores and homework, he laughed loudly, talked endlessly, and listened intently – and he had been around a lot, especially as of late.  

No, Buck didn’t deserve to ever feel the need make himself small –make himself less, not anywhere for anyone, and sure as fuck not in Eddie’s house or in his presence.  Not if he had anything to say about it – and he damn well did.  

“Why shouldn’t your picture be on the fridge, Buck?”  He repeated.

The lean firefighter shrugged, shifting on his feet as he twisted his fingers.  “It isn’t important.”  He mumbled.

Eddie could feel his face scrunch up as his confusion continued to rise.  “It’s not like I was going to shellac it and mount it on the wall.”   Although now that he said that, it didn’t sound like a bad idea.

Buck rolled his eyes, like Eddie was the one being absurd. “You know what I mean. It’s just a stupid scribble, it’s not special.”  

“Special?  Special like what?  Like the random little notes that go on there?  Or the grocery list?  Or the receipts I had on there last week?”  

Buck bit down on his lip as he shook his head, his frustration clear as his gaze dropped to the floor.  

Eddie felt like he was missing something, but it was clear the younger man was struggling to communicate – so he squinted over at his best friend and studied him, trying to figure it out for himself.  

Eddie tried to think of the last time he had seen Buck react this way.  His best friend had been endlessly patient lately.  He had been calm, steady, and supportive through Eddie’s volatile mental state.  He had been an encouraging, caring, and a brilliant parent to Chris – always, but especially lately.  Things had been a little more sombre than usual, but even before Eddie managed to bring the mood down with his…well…breakdown would be the most fitting word he could find for it – Buck had been his normal chatty, smart, adventurous, and compassionate self.

The older man watched as the tall form continued to fidget about, going back further in his mind to think when he had last seen Buck look so, so…uncertain.  

The realization struck him like a bolt of lightening.  

The last time he had seen Buck struggle to find the words that normally flowed through him so easily, the last time he had witnessed the various ticks that tended to shadow the young firefighter’s insecurity, the last time he had seen his best friend try to make himself so small – try to make himself less, was when Buck’s parents came to town.  

Eddie sucked in a breath, realizing he hadn’t seen those big blue eyes look so lost since Buck showed up at the front door after the disastrous Buckley family dinner.

Somehow the drawing stuck to the fridge had something to do with the horrible people who had raised his best friend.  

The question was how.  

“What kind of stuff is supposed to go on the fridge?” Eddie inquired, committed to getting to the bottom of whatever crap was messing with Buck’s head.  

Those broad shoulders twitched up and then down as Buck glanced between the aforementioned appliance and the man standing in front of him. “I don’t know, man.  Never mind.  Forget I said anything.”  

Eddie swallowed back a sigh; he wasn’t giving up on this.  Buck had fought to help guide Eddie out of the negative headspaces he got trapped in, he wasn’t about to leave the younger man to struggle alone.   “What did you put on the fridge when you were growing up?”  He tried to pose the question as innocently as possible – and not make it seem like he was a hound that had caught a scent and was on the hunt.

“Nothing.”  It was practically a whisper, Eddie had to take a step closer just to hear it.  

Well, that wasn’t too alarming.  Some people didn’t like to put things on the fridge – and though Eddie had only met them briefly, Philip and Margaret seemed like the type of people who liked to keep everything pristine and perfect.  

“I mean, there was stuff on it.”  Buck offered quietly, peeking up at Eddie through those ridiculously long eyelashes of his.  

“Yeah?  What sort of stuff?”  Eddie aimed for casual, even as he could feel an unease growing in his gut as the sound of Buck’s broken tone.  

“It was always the same stuff, nothing eve got moved of changed.  Some pictures, old ones, like ones of my parents when they were younger, and their parents.”

Eddie nodded along, silently encouraging Buck to continue.

“And there was some art, a drawing of a flower that Maddie must have done when she was really little.  There was a rainbow painting, it faded a lot over time, but it was nice – that was Maddie’s too it had her name at the bottom, it must have been for school or something.”  

Eddie swallowed, his jaw clenching as he felt turmoil mounting inside him.  He had a horrible feeling he knew where this was going.

“There was a coloring of a plane, and a poem in handwriting that you could tell belong to a kid, and a crayon drawing of a boy and a girl playing at a park.”  Buck sucked in a breath, shaking his head as he continued.  “I had always just figured they were Maddie’s – but I realize now that they were probably Daniel’s.”  

Eddie had to consciously unclench his fists as he felt his nails imprinting his palms.  Buck remembered everything that had been on that fridge, in detail.  All Eddie could see in his mind was a little boy with curls and a birthmark studying all the pieces and wondering where he could fit. He had to ask, but his soul dreaded the answer he knew he would receive.  

“Nothing of yours?”  Some of Eddie’s distress must have leaked into the question, because Buck looked up at him, a forced smile on his face – even as his eyes glimmered with devastation.  

“Nah.”  He croaked, the dismissive shrug doing nothing to disguise his obvious pain. Buck cleared his throat, looking at anything but Eddie as he continued.  “I – uhh, I tried a couple times.”  

Eddie’s heart clenched, the meek sound of the confession just making him ache.  Buck sniffed as he stared down at the floor, cramming his hands into his pockets while he sifted slightly form one foot to the other.  

“The first one was just a stupid picture of a dinosaur that I coloured in – it was pretty shitty.”

Eddie’s teeth audibly clicked as he snapped his jaw shut to keep from saying all the many things he was dying to, he could tell Buck wasn’t finished and, though he wanted to, he knew this moment was not the time to point out that every kid’s art is shit but when you’re a parent it’s your goddamn job to praise that crap until your child believes they are the next van-fucking-Gogh.

“I figured when it got taken off that it just wasn’t good enough to be on there.”  

Eddie would rather be punched in the face repeatedly, than suffer through the emotional ruin currently hurtling towards him.  He was just hearing about this shit and it was tearing him apart, he couldn’t imagine what it was doing to Buck, who had lived through it all and was remembering now so clearly.  

“But I tried a couple others, a drawing I did of a horse, and a couple different pieces of art I made at school – I only ever tried the ones that got the best grade from the teacher – but every time they were taken off.  Eventually I took the hint and stopped trying.”  

And fucking hell, as if Eddie didn’t absolutely loathe the monsters that were the Buckley parents enough already, he despised them all the more now.  How could any parent do that?  How could any parent make their kid feel so inferior?  So insignificant?  How could any parent just blatantly devalue their child?  

Especially when that child is Buck.  

Buck, who loves with everything he has.

Who was just trying so desperately to be noticed.

To be included.  

To be loved.

The had never deserve him, Philip and Margaret had never for one moment deserved to have a child as good and pure as Buck.

How that boy still managed to grow up with the biggest heart of anyone Eddie had ever met, would never cease to amaze him.  

“I realize now that they just wanted to keep it as it was, before Daniel…before I….well…before.” Buck elaborated quietly.  “But they never explained it, never even said anything.” Buck mumbled.

No, of course they didn’t.  They never sat down the lost little boy and gave him any idea as to where all the pain and grief that permeated that household were coming from. No, instead they allowed that gentle child to believe he was the problem.  They let him think that he wasn’t enough.  Because that was easier than being fucking adults and owning their own baggage.  

And all these years later, here Buck stood, still wading through the wreckage.  

And it was at that moment that Eddie vowed that no matter how much talking to Frank could fucking suck – no matter how much it just left him feel flayed open and broken, no matter how hopeless it could all feel – he was never going to give up.  Because he refused to do to Christopher what Buck’s parents had done to him.  He refused to leave his child stranded alone in the storm that his own trauma had created.  He would not let this kind-hearted, curly-haired boy blame himself for things that were never his fault.  

Eddie would find a way and fight to deal with his own trauma and begin healing, because though he struggled to believe at times that he deserved it, he never doubted for a moment that Christopher did.  

Buck had as well.  

He had deserved to feel worthy and valued and loved, he had deserved to live a life free of guilt that was never his to carry to begin with – but his parents had refused to put in the work to make themselves right so that they could do right by their children.  

Eddie hated them for it, and he was more dedicated than ever to ensure he didn’t make those same mistakes.  

Philip and Margaret had made mountains of mistakes – and they didn’t even fucking care, they refused to acknowledge it or own it in any way, instead they continued to be complacent as their children drowned under the weight of it all.

Eddie willed his hands to stop shaking and his jaw to unclench.  Buck didn’t need his anger right now, though Eddie knew he would have to schedule an additional session with Frank just to rip apart his best friend’s parents.  He had to yell at someone about how unfair it was that his second favourite human on the planet was still struggle to build his self-worth, because his parents had managed to eviscerate it so completely. He had to vent the despair he felt every time he thought of Buck growing up in a house that was nothing but a shrine to loss and grief.  He had to release the fury that burned inside of him when he envisioned a little boy with big blue eyes trying all he could to be loved by parents that were supposed to fucking treasure him - but who instead refused to so much as make a sliver of room for him in their lives.  

It was going to be a long session.

Eddie sucked in a deep breath, willing his rage to relent and his soul to settle, before he took a step closer to Buck, gently bumping their shoulders together.  

The younger man looked up, his glistening gaze meeting the steady brown one.  Eddie quirked a smile, which Buck quickly copied, thankfully it was less forced than the last, but still wasn’t the blinding grin that belonged on the handsome face.  Eddie couldn’t change the damage Buck’s parents had done, no matter how desperately he wanted to, but he could show his best friend that he belonged somewhere. That he had a place where he fit, where he didn’t have to be smaller or less because there was endless space for him. He had a family who wanted him and knew that he was more than enough just the way he was.

“Well, in our home, we put all sorts of things on the fridge.”  Eddie pretended that his heart didn’t absolutely soar at the way Buck’s smile widened at the word ‘home’ and pressed on.  “Like grocery lists scribbled down in your chicken-scratch.  

Buck huffed a sound that was much further from miserable than the last sound he made had been.  

“And the pictures Chris is always drawing of the three of us – though they won’t last long before he smuggles them off to his room.”

Buck made a sound that was in the neighbourhood of a laugh, but still a few streets further than Eddie was aiming for.  

“And notes about pre-made meals with exhaustively detailed cooking instructions that border on offensive.”

Buck snorted at that, his shoulder moving to bump back against Eddie, which only made the older man smile wider.  

“And misunderstood assignments that are just too damn adorable not to put on display.”  

And Yahtzee!  There was the real Evan Buckley Smile, it reached his eyes -- which were perhaps still tinged with a soul-deep sadness that Eddie wasn’t able to erase with one interaction – but it was a display of joy solid enough that both men were able to breathe easy again.  

“I wouldn’t bet on there being too many more of those.  I’m usually excellent at homework duty.” Buck boasted with a smug grin.  

It was Eddie’s turn to snort, even as a wave of affection rushed through him, because it was true.  Since Buck arrived on the scene, he had always been strangely eager to help Christopher with his homework and quickly became the young boy’s first pick. Eddie would be offended if his heart did not nearly overwhelm him with adoration anytime he watched his two boys with their heads together, struggling to stifle their giggles; it often led to Eddie pretending to scold them for not focussing on work, which would always lead to a put-upon sigh from his son and a wink from his best friend.  

“I’m not too worried, Buckley.  When it comes to you misunderstanding another assignment, I think I like my odds.” Eddie teased with a wink of his own.

If he wasn’t mistaken, the shorter man was fairly certain it was a blush that coloured Buck’s cheeks, even as he stuck his tongue out like an absolute child.  

“Now come help me pack the cooler, so we can get to the zoo and you and our kid can bore me to death with all your obscure animal facts.”

Buck’s grin was blinding as he nearly tripped over his own feet on his rush towards the counter.  Eddie rolled his eyes as he reached out to snag Buck above the elbow and steady that giraffe-like frame.  

The two friends ribbed each other as they finished making the sandwiches and packaged the snacks, falling quickly back into the comforting ease that their relationship had always provided.  They so naturally moved with each other, one always aware of the other.  Which is why Eddie noticed Buck pause for a moment, glancing over his shoulder at the fridge before focussing back down at the grapes he was putting into the tupperware.

“You really want it up there?”  

The question was practically a whisper that sounded equal parts timid and hopeful, as blue eyes sought out brown ones.  

“Yeah.  We do. It makes us smile.”  Eddie responded honestly, his heart feeling like it flipped in his chest as he watched a shy smile spread across his best friend’s face.

It was so simple.  

It was so easy to love Buck  

How did his parents not understand that?

How did they not comprehend how little they would have to do?  How little they would have to say, to make their son feel valued?  And didn’t they know what they would get in return?  Didn’t they understand the absolute blessing that was Evan Buckley?  

“It reminds us of our Buck.”  Eddie added, pouring every drop of adoration he could into the words.

Because Evan deserved to be adored.  

And Eddie knew for a fact that his son and him were more than happy to do just that.

Buck’s expression became positively bashful and Eddie’s heart melted at the sight of it.

It was the first moment in some time that he truly felt everything was going to be okay.  

Healing was a bitch.  

There was just no way around it – Eddie was learning that – healing was messy and painful, it required time and patience, as well as blood, sweat, and tears.  

And it sucked.

All of it.

The entire process.  

And for a long time, Eddie had seen it as a hopeless endeavor.

But when you had help, when there were people in your corner willing to support you and care for you; when there were people who had your back – that’s when healing became possible.  

And nobody had Eddie’s back more completely than Buck.

Buck had done so much for the Diaz boys since they met him. He had found them both help when they needed it and had been there to support them both through everything. And they would do the same for him.  

Eddie knew his emotional wounds were particularly raw at the moment, but he hadn’t forgotten for a moment the many that Buck still struggled with.  Healing for both of them was going to be a long, arduous, miserable process – but they would stick together through it all, which made every thing a little more bearable.  

Because Buck and Eddie had each other’s backs, and they both had Christopher’s as well.

They would to whatever it took to get each other through.

That’s what family, real family, was for.  

[nestasgalpal]

Dinner dates ch. 3

Nesta's Gal Pal Masterlist | Dinner Dates masterlist | AO3

Tagging: @almosttenaciousmoon

Let me know if you want to be tagged!!

Her place wasn't one of those open concept apartments downtown. It had a corridor right in the middle that separated the kitchen from the living room, and her bedroom was in the opposite end of it.

"We need a corkscrew." Gwyn kept her voice low, despite them being alone.

There was something about the silence between them that she really liked. She took his free hand, the one that was not holding the bottle, and guided him to the kitchen. The lightbulb flickered before it turned on.

"This is nice." He looked around. On the fridge there were magnets from different places she had visited, and a couple of pictures of her with her sister and her mom, and of her, Emerie and Nesta wearing masks on a party they had attended years ago.

"That is a fridge" Gwyn took the gadget she had been looking for from a drawer and closed it by bumping her hip against it. "Just like yours, but also a little different..." She opened the door, "Mine has food inside!" She jocked. Az rolled his eyes and grinned, "I know it's hard to believe, but from these things come most of my meals."

Az chuckled and took the corkscrew from her hand. He opened the bottle with ease and offered it to her. Taking it, she drank from the bottle, then passed it back to him. Azriel mimicked her, and when he was done, as if it had been liquid courage and not just the same wine they had been drinking before, he lunged in for a kiss.

One arm wrapped her waist, and the next thing Gwyn knew was that the space between their bodies was non-existing. Their lips met in a passionate kiss that tasted like wine, and need. She wrapped her arms around his neck and heard glass making contact with the counter. She assumed he had let go of the wine, and a second later his other hand, now free, was cupping her face to deepen the kiss.

She pushed him away softly, only enough to get rid of her long jacket. His hands found their way down to her ass and gripped it tight, groaning in her mouth.

When he lifted her, Gwyn immediately put her legs around his waist and let him carry her to the closest surface. She ended up next to the bottle. Neededing air, they were forced to break away from one another. Only a breath, and then they would find their way back into each other's arms. Gwyn reached for the bottle and gave it another sip in hopes to get bold as well.

Azriel's hands played with the hem of her top. She got chills from the expectation. The waiting and the wondering of what he would do next. He started lifting it, and Gwyn helped him do as he pleased by rising her arms. He marveled at the sight of Gwyn as he undressed her piece by piece. His fingers went a little lower, caressing her naked belly for a brief moment before they found the waistband of her trousers.

As if asking for permission, he gave it a tug. Gwyn wanted to let him know it was okay, so she unbuttoned it herself. In a quick motion, he lowered them to her ankles, and Gwyn was the one kicking them off completely.

Giving a step back to admire her entirely, Azriel spoke, "You are so beautiful."

She did her best not to blush, but wasn't drunk enough to convince herself her cheeks hadn't been red for hours now.

He took off his own coat, unrushed.

"Come here." She whimpered.

While Gwyn waited naked for him, he folded the piece of clothing with so much more care than thay had granted hers, and put it on the kitchen table. Azriel then rolled up his sleeves, a hunger in his hazel eyes Gwyn had only seen once before.

One knee, then the other, he went down on the pristine floors.

Gwyn spread her legs wider for him, and Azriel was immediately between her thighs, making her see the stars and gladly suffocating in her heat.

----

The incessant buzzing of a phone woke her up. Gwyn was pretty sure she could have fallen asleep again, if it weren't for the mattress sinking under his weight as he moved to fetch it.

"Is it work?" the mountain of pillows under her muffled her words.

"Hmm" Aziel sit up on the bed and started typing back at whoever had dared disturb her good night of sleep.

Gwyn peaked her head over the pillows and grabbed the alarm clock on her nightstand. It was too early. Well, it wasn't. But it felt like it, considering at what time they had finally gone to sleep.

"Shit. I have to go."

When he jumped off the bed, Gwyn stretched her arms, legs and back, and get off the bed as well. Az's jaw fell when he saw her standing on the opposite side of the mattress, and it took her brain a moment to realize that, while he was wearing his black boxers, she was gloriously naked.

"Don't look!" Gwyn screamed, pulling the white sheets to cover herself.

Although he turned fast, she got to see the flash of a smile on his face.

"And don't laugh!"

Gwyn wrapped the sheets tight against her and walked to the closet, where she grabbed and put on a long knit dress without bothering with any underwear first. Azriel went back into motion as well, looking for his clothes on the floor.

"I've already seen everything. What's the big deal?"

She couldn't put into words why she was suddenly uncomfortable with him checking her out naked, while last night she had felt so powerful watching him lust for her. Perhaps it was because last night it had all been about them, about getting their bodies as close as possible, and nothing else mattered. Clothes had been a hindrance between them and their goal. Now, his attention was fixed somewhere else.

The phone kept buzzing, unattended over her bed.

As he began dressing, Gwyn could tell the spell was somehow wearing off. Azriel was getting ready to leave unceremoniously, and the sense of euphoria was slipping through her fingers.

"Do you want to iron that?" His shirt was wrinkled. Not too much, but enough to make it obvious that it hadn't been taken from Azriel's neat closet.

Sitting on the bed to put on his shoes, he shrugged. "I wish I could, but I'm rushing." Gwyn expected him to go on and give her an explanation, but never got one. Az finished with his shoes and got up, smoothly turning on his feet and finally facing a Gwyn that felt very much out of place in her own bedroom.

"I am sorry I have to leave like this, it wasn't planned." She crossed her arms, refusing to let the disappointment get to her. "They need me at the office, but I'll make it up to you next time, I promise."

Hmm... next time. She didn't answer. Didn't know how she felt about it.

"I'll walk you to the door." She said instead. He followed in silence, sending a last message and putting the phone in his pocket.

When they reached the door of her apartment, Azriel moved faster and opened it for her, "The door downstairs, right?" His smile had an apology written all over it. Again, Gwyn withheld her response, but grabbed the keys and stepped out of her apartment. You are on thin ice, boy.

In the elevator, none of them broke the silence. Both stood there, waiting for something to happen. They were halfway to the floor level when Az slowly turned and put an arm against the wall next to her head, trapping her there. She let him work for it and pressed her back to the wall as he leaned in to caress her lips with his. A peck first, then a short kiss, and a third. The spark was still there, and she didn't want to deny herself of the pleasure of kissing one more time before they broke away.

When the doors opened, Gwyn feinted and got out before him. Again, Az followed.

His motorcycle was parked on the same street where she lived. It was her first time seeing it, and her first thought was cool. Her second thought was don't be cliché, you idiot.

As he put one leg over it to sit, Azriel's hand brushed hers. Coward, she thought. Coward, because he didn't have the balls to finish this date properly. No matter how urgent he said that business was, Gwyn knew Az could have moved a lot faster to leave if he needed to, yet didn't. It was only urgent enough to avoid the spikiest parts of last night's aftermath.

"Just being curious..." He grabbed the helmet and toyed with the straps. "You can't sleep without a pillow fort under you?"

Perfect timing. Gwyn saw her chance to make clear what she wanted, and that she had every intention to get it.

"No, I can't. So go get yourself a bunch." She crossed her arms over her chest and put her weight over one leg, "But be quick, because you have to invite me to have dinner again this Friday night at 8:30 in Rita's, so later you can lure me into going home with you to check the quality for myself."

Just like that, their next date had a place in his calendar, and the image of Gwyn on his bed would have a place in his head until next Friday, as he prepared his place to accommodate her needs.

The sight of Az biting his lip to hold the urge to smile told Gwyn she hadn't gone too far with her advances, but still made her knees weaken. Damn his job and her pride, could she take him back upstairs?

"I will." He put on his helmet and started the engine of his motorcycle to drive away. "But let's meet in my place directly. We can have dinner there."

"Sounds good."

Az closed the visor of his helmet. "See you on Friday, then. I'll call you."

With that, he left.

[bumblesimagines]

Green Thumb

Part 15

Request: Yes or No

Nebula and Tonys friendship was v cute and we deserved to see Tony be a dad to her. This feels v short so I'm sorry

~

"Maybe some company will do you good, (Y/N)." Natasha said softly, rubbing your arm. You stayed silent, staring at the table. Rhodes had offered you your old room back but you couldn't give him an answer. Your gaze shifted to the glass of water, brows furrowing when the water in the glass began to move. Natasha followed your gaze.

"I'm not doing that." You said softly, glancing at her. Steve entered the room, heading towards the exit.

"Something's coming." He called. Rhodes and Bruce quickly followed him out. You stood up, doing the same. You walked out onto the field, seeing Pepper staring up at a ship. You watched the woman set it down, looking back at you all. Steve ran forward, helping Tony off the ship. Pepper sobbed, running forward as well. You turned, walking back towards the facility.

"Great, the douchebag survived." You muttered, opening the door and sitting back down. You knew loss would come with trying to save the world but you didn't expect to lose everyone you loved. Clint and Natasha were still around but they were grieving as well.

"(Y/N), this is Carol Danvers, a friend of Fury." Natasha said as she entered the room. You turned to look at the blonde, giving a small nod. You watched as Rhodes pulled up images of everyone who had been lost to catch Tony up. Your gaze dropped onto the table when you saw your friends images appear.

"World governments are in pieces. He did.. He did exactly what he was planning to do. He wiped out.. 50 percent of all living creatures." Natasha explained, voices getting softer. You took in a shakey breath, sitting up and glancing at everyone. You made eye contact with Tony. He was skinny and weak but he held sadness in his eyes.

"Is Barton..?" Tony trailed off.

"Clint survived... Laura and the kids are gone." You told him, voice threatening to crack. Tony inhaled deeply, nodding.

"Where is Thanos? Where is he now?" Tony asked, looking at Steve. Steve frowned.

"We don't know. He just.. Opened a portal and walked through." Steve said, staring down at the floor. Tony hummed, turning to look at Thor.

"What's wrong with him?"

"He's pissed. He thinks he failed. Which, yeah he did but so did the rest of us." The talking raccoon, Rocket, said. You didn't have enough energy to question how a raccoon ended up in space, much less question how it could talk.

"Honestly, until this exact last second, I thought you were a build-a-bear." Tony said, looking at him.

"Maybe I am." Rocket muttered in a tired and defeated tone.

"Thanos has been missing for three weeks now. We've got nothing. Tony, you fought him."

"Who told you that? No, he wiped my face with a planet while the magician gave away the stone. That's what happened. There was no fight-"

"Okay, okay.. Did he give you any clues?" Steve asked. Tony blew some raspberries, shrugging. You sighed at his childish response.

"I had a vision. I didn't want to believe it.. Thought I was dreaming-"

"Tony, I need you to focus."

"-And I needed you. As in past tense. That trumps what you need. You know what I need?" Tony knocked over some glasses, standing up from his wheelchair. "I need to shave."

"Tony, Tony, stop." Rhodes approached him as Tony ripped off his IV needle.

"What we needed was a suit of armour around the world! Remember that? Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not." Tony looked over everyone.

"Your project got Sokovia destroyed and ruined." You reminded him, finger running over the rim of the glass cup. Tony began stumbling as he argued with Steve, stumbling towards him. He ripped off the Arc reactor, putting it in Steve's hand before falling to the ground. He fainted afterwards so Rhodes and Steve got him to the medical unit.

"This is such a shitshow. I'm going home." You said, standing up and picking up the glass. Natasha turned towards you.

"Stay for a little longer-"

"For what? So I can be told nothing's gonna bring back by family? My best friends? I had nothing then I had something and now I have nothing again." You flinched when the cup shattered, pieces of glass and water landing on the ground. You sighed softly, taking the shards stuck in your skin out.

"Sorry. I'll clean this up." You mumbled, using your other hand to get the water off the floor. Carol blinked, watching in surprise. You opened one of the cabinets, pulling out the first aid kit. You turned your head when Carol stood beside you.

"Hey." You breathed out, running your hand under water to wash away some of the blood. Carol picked up the antibiotic cream, using a cotton ball to dab it onto your cuts. You didn't really feel like healing yourself.

"I'm sorry you lost so many people." She said quietly, picking up the bandages and wrapping them around your hand.

"Well, shit happens." You looked at your bandaged palm, sighing softly.

"I lost two best friends." Carol said, leaning against the counter.

"Nick and Monica, the daughter of a good friend." Carol looked at you, arms crossing.

"Sams' sister calls nonstop and I don't know what to tell her. She has two toddlers, both parents passed away, and she's a widow. How can I tell her that her older brother turned into dust and I couldn't do anything to save him? Dad and I can't even look at each other without noticing how empty the house feels. I wake up everyday hoping it was all a nightmare but then I don't hear Laura telling the kids to get up or Clint going on about teaching Lila archery." You looked away from her, eyes watering. Carol placed a gentle hand on your arm, giving it a light squeeze.

"You did what you could. What you have to do now is be there for the people who are still here. Your friends sister needs you. She needs someone familiar. Someone close to Sam and someone who was there in his last moments." Carol said, watching you.

"You'll never get back up if you keep knocking yourself down." She said softly. You let out a shakey sigh, nodding and sniffling. Carol offered you a napkin, patting your back before she walked away. You wiped away your tears and splashed some water on your face, patting your face dry. You turned and grabbed the broom and collector, taking care of the glass. You put the first aid kit away as Carol re-entered the room with Natasha and Steve following.

"Hey, we usually do things as a team here." Natasha said as Carol spun around to look at her.

"We realize up there is your territory but this is our fight too." Steve added.

"Do you even know where he is?" Rhodes asked, head tilting. Carol shrugged lightly.

"I know people who might."

"Don't bother." You looked at the blue android girl, Nebula.

"I can tell you where Thanos is." She revealed. The humans glanced at each other before gathering in the office to hear what she had to say. You leaned against the doorway, semi interested.

"Thanos spent a long time trying to perfect me. When he worked he talked about his great plan. Even disassembled I wanted to please him.. I'd ask where we would go once his plan was complete. His answer was always the same." Nebula turned her head to look at everyone. "To the garden."

"That's cute. Thanos has a retirement plan." Rhodes mumbled as Rocket climbed onto the table, making a hologram of Earth appear.

"When Thanos snapped his fingers, Earth became ground zero for ridiculously high cosmic proportions. Nobody's ever seen anything like it." Rocket said, making the hologram change to a different planet.

"Until two days ago on this planet." Rocket motioned to the planet shown. Nebula nodded, leaning forward.

"He used the stones again." Natasha whispered. Everyones attention shifted onto the planet.

"You can count me out. I have a therapy session soon." You called, turning around and walking down the steps.

"You go to therapy?" Rhodes asked, brows furrowing as he turned to face you.

"Yeah, it's called napping."

~~~~~~~~~~

You entered the house, taking in a deep breath. Neither you or Clint dared clean up the place. Everything was left exactly how it had been left after Thanos snapped his fingers. You entered the livingroom, gaze landing on the metal on the ground. You sighed softly, picking up the monitor. Clint had broken it. Clint not following the rules of his house arrest was probably the least of the governments problems. You tossed it onto the couch, walking to the kitchen and opening the fridge.

"Beer, beer, beer, leftovers, beer." You mumbled as you sorted through the fridge. You shut the fridge, looking at the drawings and pictures pinned to it with magnets. You swallowed, leaving the kitchen. You stepped over the Legos on the ground, going to the front door. You watched as Clint drew an arrow, shooting it at a target in the distance. All Clint did was practice. Probably to get his mind off things.

"Should I head into town for food?" You called out. Clint stayed silent so you took it as a no. You took out your phone, looking at the contact.

Sarah Wilson

You watched it ring, guilt creeping into your heart. You sighed, licking your lips and answering.

"Hello?"

"Oh, thank god! I've been trying to reach you for the past few weeks. I haven't heard anything yet about Sam and the others. How is Sam? Is he with you?"

"Sam.." You started, biting down on your lip as you shut your eyes. You let out a heavy sigh, taking a seat on the stairs.

"I should explain everything in person, Sarah. I'm not gonna make you wait until I get to Louisiana. Sam.. He, uh.. He didn't make it. I'm s-sorry." You sniffled, hearing a soft gasp leave Sarah.

"Oh, God.." She whispered.

"I-I'll stop by. I tell you everything but.. Sam.. Sam was a hero until the end." You said softly, hearing the kids in the background. You were relieved she wasn't completely alone.

"C-Could you just stay with me on the phone?" Sarah asked softly.

"Yeah, of course." You replied, answering her softly cry.

"What the hell am I gonna do now? Half the folks in town are gone and.." Sarah sniffled. You listened to her soft sniffles and sobs, sighing softly.

"I'm not gonna leave you, Sarah. Sam would have my head if I did." You smiled softly, hearing her chuckle.

"Thank you."

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

13 Going on 30 pt. 3

A Peter Maximoff x reader fanfic based off the movie 13 going on 30

Summary:  You are so excited when the most popular girl in your school agrees to come to your 13th birthday party. But after a cruel prank you find yourself wishing that you were popular and older. By some miracle your wish is granted but isn’t as wonderful as it seems. You turn out to be a major jerk and you don't even talk to your best friend Peter anymore. Can you fix everything and get back to normal or are you stuck living like this forever

Warnings: Angst, Some suggestive content, But it’s mostly pure fluff. (Also Peter has no powers in this fic, and some scenes will be changed to fit Peter and his personality and so I can be creative with it!)

Word Count: 2103

Peter thought it was safe to say that adult life sucked. And it wasn't just because he had run out of lucky charms this morning and had to settle for something called shredded wheat that was hidden away in the back of the panty. They were gross and tasted like cardboard, but Peter was all out of groceries so this would have to do.

 No nothing had seemed to go right for him after high school, he went to college, (even though he spent most of the time partying and goofing off), got the degree and yet he was barely scraping by. But he couldn't complain, all that much at least. He enjoyed his job and even if at times it was hard to earn money he wouldn't trade it for the world. He had fallen in love with photography in freshman year and decided to major in it. He had a minor in business too, something you had always told him would be useful as a backup. You were always practical like that, making sure he never completely fell over the edge. But he was hesitant to use it, because in using that minor it kinda meant he was giving up his dream. Giving in to the regular, soul crossing 9 to 5 job that everyone seemed to have. Peter was a dreamer at heart, in a way it would kill him to do anything other than photography.

He ate a spoonful of his cereal, making a face at the dull taste. Chewing, he glanced over at the stack of bills littering the counter. A lot of them were piling up, sooner or later he may have to give into the normalcy of a business job. Work had been slow lately and very boring. More often than not people hired him to take photos for their weddings or graduation, simple stuff. Stuff that had him bored out of his mind. But there were no clients currently so until he got one he had all the time in the world to himself. Which he loved at first but now it seems he was falling into a bit of a routine.

Peter aimlessly wandered around the kitchen lost in thought, his eyes drifted toward the collection of pictures pinned to his fridge. There was a picture of you on there, from before you had cut him out of your life. Peter set the bowl down on the counter and gently lifted the magnet to pull the picture off. It was a polaroid of you two, You had your arms wrapped around Peter’s shoulders, hugging him from behind. His hands were resting on yours, you both were smiling, teeth missing.

This picture was from the first day of first grade. Even back then Peter had had some feelings for you. And the way his eyes looked at you and not the camera was proof of this. Peter ran his thumb gently over the faded picture, for a moment he let himself wonder about how you were doing, before he snapped himself out of it. He put the picture back in its place and picked his bowl back up. It was too early to be having thoughts like that. 

Peter yawned and lazily plopped down on his worn out sofa, flipping through the channels on the tv. There was nothing on, signing he threw out the rest of his cereal, it had gotten soggy while he was busy reminiscing. He dropped the empty bowl into the sink, only adding to the collection of unwashed dishes. He glanced over at the phone and the soft blinking of the red light, indicating he had voicemails he hadn't listened to yet. He knew he was going to have to take her calls sooner or later but right now he didn't want to deal with her. 

He headed to the park and decided to do some laps on the path, running always helped him to relax and clear his head. He always got stares and shy smiles from the women that were jogging, he found out that apparently the silver hair that everyone made fun of him for was very attractive to women now. Something he used to use to his advantage to pick up the occasional hook up.

After that he went to go get groceries and then played on his pacman machine until lunchtime. He totally knew how to spend his time. He made his way over to the kitchen and looked at all the new groceries he had bought. Twinkies, instant ramen, mac and cheese, he picked up the box of lucky charms, weighing the option of eating it for lunch. He thought better of it and put it back on the shelf, he really needed to eat healthier, god knows sooner or later his metabolism was going to give out.

He picked up the phone and placed an order form the Chinese place a couple blocks away, ordering way more food than he needed. That way he wouldn't have to cook for the next few meals. Peter was inherently lazy and cooking was not something he was very good at. So when he would he just ordered takeout and leftovers so he could eat them later. He hung up the phone and walked over to the fridge and took out the milk, drinking it straight for the carton, while he was doing that he heard a loud knock on the door. “That was quick.” The knocking continued non stop over and over, “I’m coming hold on!” He yelled out as he shuffled to the door and opened it peering through the opening that the chain allowed. “You know it’s rude to-'' The words died in his throat. There was a woman standing at his door, wearing a coat over her night dress. 

*******************************************************

You hadn't been able to pay attention to the briefing your boss gave, your assistant came in about half way through and handed you a small slip of paper. She said that she had found Peter’s address like you had asked. You had pulled her into a hug, creating an awkward tension in the room. The meeting had seemed to go on forever, and for the life of you you couldn't even remember what it was about. As soon as the meeting ended you had bolted out the door, ignoring the calls of your boss and colleagues telling you that work wasn't over yet. 

You had found his apartment after randomly asking strangers in the street which way it was. You were at his door, the number on it hanging lopsided. You began to rapidly knock until the door was pulled open. “You know it’s rude to-” 

He paused as he saw you staring at him. He furrowed his brows in confusion. “You’re not the chinese delivery guy.” 

You felt your eyes widen as you took him in. “Peter?” You asked in a small voice. 

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at you. “Yeah?”

 You let out a sigh of relief, smiling. “You’re tall.” You looked him up and down. “And you’re so handsome.”

His face turned red at your words. He didn't even know who this random woman was that was standing here, telling him he was handsome. He leaned against the doorframe, taking another drink out of the carton. “I’m sorry do- do I know you?” 

He watched your face fall. “You don’t know me?” 

“No?” He said, wiping the dribbling milk off his chin. Even after all these years his mannerisms were the same. 

“Wait! “ You said rushing forward. He jumped slightly at the sudden action. “It’s me, I saw you yesterday. Well I was thirteen yesterday so I guess it wasn't yesterday. Because now i'm old and I don't know where I am-” Peter watched you ramble on and slowly began to close the door. You continued on. “But you were there at my party-”

Peter paused, squinting his eyes and looking at you closely.. “(Y/n)?” He asked hesitantly, reopening the door as much as the chain would allow. “(y/n) (y/l/n)?” You smiled wide at him. 

“Yes! Yes it’s me!” 

Peter slammed the door shut in your face. You heard him unlock all the locks on his side of the door, when he was down he swung the door open. “Hey.” he gave you a small smile. You lunged at him and tackled him in a hug, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. He just stood there frozen, slowly moving his free hand up to awkwardly pat you on the back. “Come in I guess.” He muttered. 

You pulled back smiling at him. Even after all this time your sweet smile could make his heart skip a beat. You looked around his small apartment taking it all in. Peter did his best to kick discarded clothes into the closet, and keep you from seeing what a mess it was. You looked along his walls to see framed pictures of portraits and beautiful landscapes. “Are you still taking pictures?” You asked,

“Uh yeah, they pay the bills.” He quickly grabbed the pile of unpaid bills, stuffing them behind the couch cushion. “Usually.” He muttered under his breath. You were pacing around his apartment, in confused circles. He nervously rubbed the nape of his neck. “Hey, (y/n) I don't wanna be rude but why are you here?” 

“Petey I told you.” You said moving closer to him, he let out a little laugh. 

“Petey wow, no one has called me that in ages.” 

“Petey listen I came here cause something really weird is happening. Yesterday was my 13th birthday and then today I woke up and I’m this!” You said gesturing to your body. Peter tried his best not to look you up and down, he couldn't deny that you had grown up well. You were even more beautiful than he remembered. “And you’re that!” You said gesturing towards him. 

Peter looked down at himself self consciously. “Gee thanks. Do I really look that bad?” 

“No!” You quickly said. You felt yourself blush as you looked him over. His hair was tousled and messy, he was wearing an oversized  pink floyd crop top and from the looks of the hem it seemed he had made it himself. You watched the veins in his hands ripple and his arms slightly flex. “Uh you,” You let out an embarrassed laugh. “You actually look really good, like really good.” 

Peter flushed at your words and turned away so you couldn't see his blushing face. “Wow.” He whispered under his breath, he lifted a hand up to his face, doing his best to hide the smile that was forming. He turned back to and regained a serious composure. “Are you sure you're okay (y/n).” He took in your mismatched outfit and broken heel. “Are you high? Have you been smoking pot? Doing drugs, cause if you are I’m not judging as long as it’s just weed or something. Cause I mean I get it, I get stressed to and every now and then need-”

“No, no.” You said shaking your head rapidly. “Wait do you do-,” You lowered your voice to a whisper. “Do you do drugs Peter?” 

“No! No.” Peter shrugged. “Ehhh well not drugs, just weed.” He defended. But looking at your judgmental eyes he quickly continued on. “And I don’t, well I don’t that much any more. It was in college you know how it was.” 

“Actually I don’t.” You moved even closer to him. “Look, I was sitting in my closet, and I- I skipped everything. I can’t- I can’t remember my life.” Your eyes were watery as you started back at him. His heart ached seeing you like this. You continued on. ‘You need to help me remember my life.” 

At this he scoffed, and pretended to look around as if you were referring to someone else. “Me?” he said pointing to himself, letting out an airy laugh. “That’s rich.”

“What why?” He let out another laugh at your response, this one was dry. He looked at your face and saw that you weren’t kidding, you were serious about asking for his help.

“(Y/n) I can’t.” He was in disbelief, did you seriously have no idea what you had done to him. “I don’t know anything about you. I haven't seen you since high school.” Your face morphed into one of confusion. 

“What?” 

What he said next pained him, and he couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eyes. “(Y/n). We’re not friends anymore.”

You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces. “What?”

Taglist:

@lets-imagine-fanfics @steamboat-local @weasly-twin-simp

Let me know if you want to be added!!

[burnedbyshoto]

disconnected

— Kirishima answers a phone call that wasn’t intended for him, and of course he can’t help but be interested in the beautiful voice and soul that angrily began to rant about their day. —

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pairing: kirishima eijirou x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, lil angst (lol sorry), cursing

word count: 7,786

a/n: this was a stupid thought that slammed into my mind, and here it is!!!! now I have a calc midterm tomorrow that I did not look at because why think about double derivatives and integrals when I can think about kirishima????

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It was eleven at night when Kirishima strolled out of his bathroom, ready to go to bed. After a rather long day, he was looking forward to sleeping and not having to wake up at the crack of dawn. Tomorrow for the very first day in a very long time, he wouldn’t have to work at the local coffee shop he was hired at. It was a job he had acquired with his good friends on the promise of it being a manageable job on top of his college work, and of course, the pretty girls who would go in.

From what Kirishima had gathered from the four months working there was that there were a lot of pretty girls who entered the coffee shop — most of which were focused on the angry ash-blond friend of his — and that it was so unnecessarily stressful. 

Some days he was up at four in the morning to open at six for the morning regulars, then he’d go to his afternoon classes, only to return for a two-hour shift in the middle of rush hour, and would leave while trying to keep the peace between a certain ash-blond and two new hires. To say the least, it was hell on Earth at times. 

Regardless, he didn’t have to open tomorrow morning, so he was content! On top of not having classes tomorrow, Kirishima was excited to sleep in.

Falling on his bed with a massive sigh, Kirishima snuggled his face into his pillow, rejoicing in the way that the laundry detergent still clung to the fabric and relaxed.

Sleep sounded so—

RIIING.

RIIING.

Kirishima’s eyes slammed open, his head snapping to see his illuminating phone on his nightstand. He had no idea who the hell was calling this late. There was no way it was Bakugou; he was asleep already at this point. Sero had broken his phone two days ago during a failed stunt and wouldn’t be able to get a new phone until the weekend. Kaminari only called him when there was a bug in his apartment, but he was currently closing… maybe it was Mina? Kirishima shook his head, no, he hadn’t spoken to Mina in ages.

Grabbing the phone, he didn’t bother to look at the caller ID and answered.

“Hello—?”

“Oh my god, I am fucking raging! You can’t believe what kind of fuckery I just went through tonight!” a voice shouted into the receiver, and Kirishima flinched a bit at the loud and angry voice. “So you know how I wasn’t supposed to work today, right? Because my coworker had sex with her ex-boyfriend like an idiot, and I owed her for covering my shift three months ago, but anyways irrelevant. I’m taking the order of this one group of adults. That’s right, A-D-U-L-T-S, adults! They are completely staring at my tits the entire time, and not my face. At first, I thought maybe you know, I had spilled something on my tits earlier, no. No! NOTHING! So I call them out on it, and they say something along the lines of ‘you could be a camgirl with that body, but like not in a sex sort of way’ I’m sorry, WHAT?! Like yes, continue sexually harassing your server who is a college student and therefore has no will to live, so will gladly beat your Gucci belt wearing ass into a bloody pulp! What they gonna do? Sue me? I have one dollar to my name, fucking take it, I don’t care, I’ll find another dollar in the sewer after I beat their asses up!

“But you know, I’m saying all this in my head because I’m broke and can’t afford to be fired from this place because the tips are hella good here. But they continue saying dumb shit, and then the obvious ringleader — I know he was the ring leader because his beard looks like it was the first picture printed on a new ink cartridge and his manspread was ten times wider than all of theirs — have the fucking audacity to slip his number while only tipping TEN DOLLARS ON A TWO HUNDRED DOLLAR TAB!!!!” Kirishima doesn’t know what to say, his jaw on his mattress, breathing having stopped while your voice wheezes from your lack of air. He makes a croaking noise, wanting to speak up and apologize for what had happened and for not being the person you thought it was, but it seemed that you weren’t over. “AND DON’T GET ME STARTED ON THAT FUCKING KAREN!!! ‘I didn’t like the way you looked at me so I won’t be tipping you tonight!’ yeah, well maybe if you didn’t order enough FOOD TO FEED AN ARMY AND KEPT SENDING IT BACK I WOULDN’T BE LOOKING AT YOU LIKE THAT!!!”

There was a pause, and Kirishima, while feeling entirely sorry for you, finally spoke, “Fuck, that sounds... horrible.”

“Damn right, it was horri— wait, who the fuck is this?” your voice squeaked, and Kirishima almost started to laugh at the difference in the tone your voice took. Once so loud, angry, and entirely ‘fuck the world,’ had changed into a meek and embarrassed voice.

“Um, this is Kirishima. Kirishima Eijiriou?”

“This isn’t Hagakure?” you moaned into the phone. “03-9082-2395? That isn’t this number?”

“2-2-9-5,” Kirishima repeated his own number back, a small smile overcame his features knowing that you had accidentally misdialed a number.

“Fuck my fat fingers,” you cursed, and Kirishima chuckled lightly at the mutterings that were poorly picked up. “Well, um, I am so sorry for calling you and dumping that unnecessary bullshit on you—”

“No, no,” Kirishima interrupted, rolling onto his back, staring up at the dimly lit ceiling. “It’s totally okay! You seem less stressed out now too, and it really isn’t a big deal!”

“You are very kind, Kirishima Eijirou,” you laugh, and Kirishima can’t help but imagine a figure curled up on a couch.

“Thank you!” he beamed, a hand threading through his hair, “um, but what happened with the Karen? And why were you typing in your friend’s phone number?”

“Do you really want to know?” you ask after a fit of bubbling laughter; it seemed that you were not at all convinced.

“I work at a coffee shop for one, so I totally understand the Karen situations! Secondly, all my contacts are on my phone, I don’t have a single one of them memorized!”

“Okay, okay, okay, I do not have this number memorized! Hagakure is my roommate, and she has a new number that she left posted on our fridge and because Mr. Sprinkles left in the middle of my rant, I called her to finish it!” you explain in what Kirishima could only consider being childlike glee. “And a coffee shop? Oof, Kirishima, you might have it just as bad as I do then.”

“Ever had a boiling cup of coffee thrown back at your face?”

“Shut. Up.”

“I wish I was joking!”

“The nastiest thing I’ve ever been put through is a highschool couple breaking up in the middle of the restaurant, and a bowl of cold soup and milkshake were thrown at me! And I had to work for another five hours!”

“That… that beat mine by a long shot…”

“Okay, but like, it was cold. If you hadn’t dodged, you’d be dead!”

As time passed Kirishima soon found himself sitting up on his bed, his back pressed against the headboard, a lamp on so that he wasn’t in the dark while he talked to you. Somehow conversation flowed so perfectly between the two of you, so smoothly, so naturally. You had extremely compelling energy and a pretty bright one at that as well. Your stories were exceedingly extravagant, most derailing into hundreds of side stories before making its way back to the main point, but he didn’t mind. Though there was no proof, he imagined that your arms were swinging around while you talked, a bright smile on your face, and lights shining in your eyes.

“So anyway, I had to beg my professor to let me remake this exam because, for some reason, my brain would not switch back to Japanese. I almost cried because I was only speaking in English, and I think because I am an amazing person, my professor let me do that!” you laughed after explaining an issue with being fluent in a third language. 

“My English skills deteriorated after leaving high school, I’m rather jealous you can speak three languages,” Kirishima admitted, his head falling back onto the cold wall. “My Japanese professors probably think my Japanese sucks too.”

“Just because I am amazing and can speak three languages doesn’t mean I’m perfect at it,” you laugh, obviously trying to make him feel better about himself.

“Mm, I don’t know, you’re painting yourself as a pretty perfect person,” Kirishima sighed. “Or you have an enormous ego…”

A loud scoff came from your end of the phone, and Kirishima waited for your verbal retaliation but was met with a moment of silence.

“Oh! Welcome home!” you called out, and Kirishima quickly put together that your roommate Hagakure was home. “Yeah, no, I’m talking to someone right now! ...who? Oh, um, a friend! ...no, I tried to call you when I got home but misdialed your number and got him instead! NO! You’re not going to get a pic of him! Wait, it’s what time?!”

Kirishima’s eyes fell over to his alarm clock and saw in the dim red light that it was 04:57. 

His jaw dropped.

“Well, um, Kirishima, it seems that our call is going to end,” you whisper into the phone, and Kirishima lets out a breathless chuckle, sudden sleepiness creeping into him. “It was pretty fun chatting with you stranger, thanks for putting up with that ranting in the beginning! Most normal people wouldn’t have picked up or let me rant like that!”

“It’s no problem,” Kirishima smiled softly, his fingers stretching out to turn off the light. He licked his lips, five hours on a phone call with an absolute stranger, and he didn’t have your name, and better yet, a part of him wanted to ask if it was okay to be friends. You were magnetic to him, and he wanted to know more about you, even if this was this weird modern and accidental penpal thing. “I didn’t have anything to do today, and you were fun talking to!”

“Aww, thank you!”

Silence.

Ask, he thought, his teeth biting down onto his bottom lip. Ask!

“Um, I know this is weird and all, but do you think I can keep your number?” you ask, your voice almost timid and meek.

Kirishima’s heart rate spikes at those words, he very much wanted that, but his mouth had a mind of its own it seemed. “Why?”

“Wha— well, I just had a lot of fun talking with you! It was fun, and I don’t know, you seem like a pretty chill guy!”

His fingers gripped his phone, a warmth spreading through him when he relaxed under his sheets. “On one condition.”

“Oof, if you’re going to ask to decide between Crimson Riot or All Might you’re going to be—”

“No, no,” Kirishima lets out a snort, his shoulders rolling while he imagines the curious look coming over your face. “I would like to know your name?”

“My name? Why would you want— HOLY SHIT! I never gave you—” there was a loud noise on your end of the call, and Kirishima heard you apologize profusely before returning in a hushed whisper. “Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t give you my name?!”

“No,” he laughed loudly, one that was pushed from his belly, spreading warmth through his body. “You never did, but I did learn every name of every person you’ve ever talked with!”

“God,” you groan, a small whine emitted from you. “I’m an idiot, I’m so sorry! Y/l/n y/n at your service!”

Y/l/n y/n, that’s a pretty name, he thought while imagining just what you could look like. 

“Well, goodnight y/l/n, I’ll save your number, and we’ll see if you still would like to be friends when you wake up?”

There was a small noise of agreement, “I’m like a drug, Kirishima, you’ll be back for more.”

“Okay, okay, goodnight…”

“Goodnight, sweet dreams!”

“Sweet dreams.”

Kirishima listened to the line ending, and he pulled his phone away from his ear and no sooner did he do that, a text came in at what he believed to be your number:

don’t let the bed bugs bite! 🕷😱‼️

He snorted and replied back before eventually letting sleep consume him.

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“You’ll never believe what just happened!” you squealed into the phone, and Kirishima laughed while wiping his sweaty face with a white towel. You had called thirty minutes earlier than usual and had caught him leaving the gym.

It had been a bit over two months since your misdial, and things with you had been going pretty well for strangers. The two of you didn’t talk every day, most weeks going by with just a single call, but they were always delightful talks. You worked most nights, and he most mornings, the two of you discovered. So most calls took place the night he didn’t have to work the following morning. 

“You got a customer who complained that there was too much salt in their meal that had no salt in it?” he asked, pulling a random story of something that had happened at his own coffee shop today. You let out an amused snort, a clear indicator that he was wrong, but found his guess to be amusing at the very least.

“No, but oddly enough, someone did ask for an insane amount of salt on their food and hated it!” you sang, clearly happy with how you found their distress to be funny.

“Close enough!” Kirishima laughed, but he was straight out of guesses, so he stopped. “So, what happened?”

“I tried coffee for the first time ever today!” you squealed loudly, and Kirishima cheered happily.

Through these two months, there were some hard facts that Kirishima had learned about you. One, you were living in the same city as him. Two, you worked at a semi-classy restaurant. Three, you had two roommates named Hagakure and Jirou. Four, you were twenty, just like him. And five, you were a child who only drank hot chocolate and tea because you were afraid of coffee.

~

“Caffeine is a drug you know,” you had snarkily teased him one night when he said he was going to make a cup of coffee. “Nice to know I’m friends with an addict!”

“If drugs were as amazing as coffee, I’d be an addict!”

“You know…” your voice whispered, your voice suddenly taking a guilty approach. “I’ve never actually tried coffee…”

“WHAT?!”

~

“Wow, look at you, becoming an old woman in front of my own eyes!” Kirishima chuckled, starting his walk back home. 

His fingers pushed the headphones to be more secure over his ears, hopeful that there it wouldn’t pick up too heavily on the wind of the outside world. 

“To be honest, it wasn’t that good, your taste buds are just tarnished from drinking that bitter crap all day!” you huff and he half imagined you turning your nose up.

“Okay, okay,” Kirishima laughed, a warmth flooding in his chest at the sounds of your muffled laughter. A visible indicator that you were also amused at this. “I hated coffee until I started working at a coffee shop, and that was because I needed to know my shit.”

“Wow, you only got that job while not being a coffee addict?” you tease. “Seems like a fake barista to me.”

“It’s pretty hard to believe, I know,” Kirishima stated his tone one of fake melancholy. “I’m so sorry for deceiving you, and honestly, I am a shit barista.”

“Aww, don’t say that!” you exclaim, and it seems like you’re ready to fight him. “I bet you put all those fancy TikTok baristas to shame!”

“TikTok?” he laughed, his pace speeding up just a bit so he would get home faster. “Wow, I am honored you think that!”

The light conversation continued, nothing too deep or too intense, just chatter about today's shifts and classes. Eventually, Kirishima made it back into his apartment complex, and stumbled into his room, collapsing onto his bed. 

“Can I ask something?” you ask suddenly, and Kirishima lets out a small hum.

“Yeah, of course, what’s up?”

“What do you look like?” you asked softly as if you were curled up in bed, seconds from letting sleep consume you. “I haven’t come up with a mental image that I like, and well, I want some hints.”

“I can just send you a picture of me,” Kirishima smiles, his eyes closing. “It would be much easier than me trying to explain to you what I look like.”

“No!” you disagree, and there's a long sigh from your end of the phone. “I’m not ready for that kind of information yet, Kiri. I just… I can’t accept a pic of you without sending one back, and I’m not mentally ready for that yet…”

“Don’t tell me the big fat Gucci bougie you is shy?!” Kirishima exclaimed, humor drowning his words as he referenced you to something you had called yourself one drunken night weeks ago.

“Not shy!” you bemoan, your voice muffling out at the end of it. “I’m more scared you’ll find me ugly and ghost me…”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Kirishima interjected, his voice stable and confident.

“Which part?”

“Both parts.”

“How do you know that? You don’t know what I look like…”

“...call it… Kirishima’s intuition,” Kirishima slowly stated, his eyebrows furrowing. “I find your voice and your personality to be attractive on their own, so I would never ghost you. And of course, appearance isn’t anything; plus, there’s no way you’re not gorgeous.”

He says these words with honest truth, and a part of him fears he overstepped and made you wildly uncomfortable with the amount of silence that is heard from your end of the line. But finally, as Kirishima is ready to apologize to you, a soft exhale is heard.

“You’re a dork,” you whisper, and a soft grin spreads on his own face. “Anyways, I’ll ask questions, you answer them first, and then I’ll do the same.”

“Sounds good!”

“Hair color?”

“Black, but I dye it red.”

“Mm, edgy teenager, I like it, and also knew that because you complained about your stained sheets! Eye color?”

“Red.”

“Oh, am I sensing a theme? How tall are you?”

“I’m… a bit over six feet?”

The list went on, most questions becoming more of a joke than anything else, but he was glad that you were asking these things because now he had an insight on how you looked too. You had told him your eye color, your hair color, how tall you were, and a whole bunch of trivial things he would have never thought to ask about to begin with.

“Okay, last question!” you cheered, happy to have finally included Kirishima into your inside joke that revolved around your eyebrows. “Do you have any distinguishing features?”

“Well, I don’t actually...” Kirishima admitted, his fingers brushing against the scar on his eye, and then it hit him. That was one! “Oh, wait—” CRASH. A loud crashing noise emitted from your side of the call.

“Shit, hold on!” you curse and Kirishima can only remain silent while he hears you yelling in the background, it was too far away for him to quite understand, but it was enough to know that it didn’t sound okay. 

Kirishima sat on his side of the call, the phone pressed to his ear while he tried to strip his gross and sweaty shirt from his body. His teeth bit into his lip, his canine pressing into the permanent indent of his lip, an indicator of how anxious he used to be. 

“Fuck, Kiri?” your voice suddenly snapped back onto the call, your tone frantic and quick.

“Everything okay?”

“No, Hagakure showed up drunker than… a drunken drunk, I don’t know expressions, ANYWAYS I know tonight is our unofficial official call night, but anyway I can get a rain check?”

There was guilt that swallowed your voice, a pang of guilt that made Kirishima warm a bit because it showed that you valued these calls, just like him. 

“Of course, I don’t have class or work Friday morning this time around, so Thursday night?”

“That works perfectly,” you sigh, gratitude. “I owe you, text you later if you don’t fall asleep! Goodnight, sweet dreams, love ya!”

Kirishima couldn’t repeat the whole statement before you hastily hung up, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face the entire time he showered. The shower didn’t take too long, and by the time he emerged from the shower, towel around his neck and his waist, he had a text message. 

sero - hey bro!!! i can’t pick up my morning shift tomorrow i know you have tonight to speak w y/n but todoroki and bakugou can’t cover it!

Kirishima sighed, he definitely didn’t have anything tomorrow anyways, he could manage with going in for an extra shift to help a friend.

kirishima - yeah sure what time?

sero - youre a life saver T-T im covering 8 am - 3 pm!!!

Kirishima sent a simple affirmative emoji before finishing up his nightly routine. 

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Kirishima looked at his apron while he was assembling himself in the backroom. The aroma of roasted coffee beans and pastries was almost pungent in the back, and he was eager to get out of there. As per employee regulations, he was to wear a black apron, a name tag, and something to hold his hair because it was a bit too long, for that, he wore a white bandana around his forehead.

“Wait, where’s my name tag?” Kirishima called out, his eyebrows furrowing when he turned out to Kaminari, who was currently in the back with him.

The blond froze and scratched the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly, “About that…”

So Kirishima was in the front of the store with a shiny silver name tag that read Hanta Sero. Because Kaminari was the best barista they had on hand currently, he was busy teaching Midoriya — their newest hire — around the bar. For now, Todoroki was nowhere to be found, and Kirishima was handling the cash register. 

Today was a slow morning, most people had their day off today, so morning coffee rush wasn’t in existence. Sure, there were a few outliers, but it was never chaotic. 

The gentle bell of the front door rang, and Kirishima automatically called out.

“Welcome!”

You had walked into the store, your eyebrows furrowed while you prayed that this was the coffee shop your roommates had been raving about. You’d never been here before, but it was the closest coffee shop available that wasn’t something generic and basic like Starbucks. You looked up from your phone at the voice, a thank you automatically being repeated while you neared the register.

You froze when you saw the red hair and the red eyes of the handsome man at the register. A careless thought entered your mind, Kirishima said he had red hair and red eyes… but he said he didn’t work today… 

A kind smile sat on his face, his eyes taking you in, waiting for you to approach him. 

This couldn’t be him, right?

The last time you had assumed a redhead working in a coffee shop was Kirishima, it had ended embarrassingly. 

“Um, hi,” you drawled out, your eyes reading the board to figure out your own order. 

Kirishima couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, you were exactly what you had described to him, but he wouldn’t ask until he was sure. He would ask you for your name after collecting your order for either tea or hot chocolate, and if it was you, he’d reveal that he was Kirishima. But he didn’t want to be wrong; he didn’t want to pin any other person as you, after all.

“I’ve never been here before,” you confess, your hand rubbing the back of your head. You were transfixed on the caramel macchiato that was spelled in the prettiest font, though, plus Hagakure promised all their coffee was good. 

“Oh, well, welcome! If you need any recommendations or have anything else to order, I can put those through while you look?”

His smile was kind, and you felt blood rush to your face, something you desperately tried to fight off by thinking of anything you didn’t like. 

“Oh! I do have two orders, though! There’s going to be one chai tea latte with three pumps of vanilla, and a lavender tea with a splash of oat milk.”

Kirishima nodded his head, “Will this be for here, or to go?”

His voice sounds so similar to Kirishima, you hoped, studying his face. While you answered that it was to go, you saw a distinctive scar on his right eye. Kirishima had said he didn’t have any distinguishing features… 

“What are your favorites here?” you ask, your eyebrows scrunched in confusion, your thoughts very evident in your face.

Kirishima couldn’t help but find hope bubbling up in his chest, there was always the possibility that you two lived in the same city-based off the same area code, and with what seemed like an incomplete knowledge in coffee, maybe…

Kirishima rambled off about the different seasonal drinks right now, his recommendations leaning towards the teas and non-coffee things primarily after his general and basic list. You seemed to take every word out of his lip like gospel, agreeing and nodding when appropriate, and his lips stretched into a grin when you bluntly exclaimed your ill knowledge of this all.

“To be honest, I only step into coffee shops to take a cute pic and then leave,” you laugh, pressing your hands against your lips and screaming a bit in your throat. 

Kirishima laughed, more confidence blooming through his body over the hope that this was you. It had to be you.

Your eyes then found the nametag on his apron, and like a sinking ship, you read Sero.

Not Kirishima.

“And for you?”

“I’ll have the caramel macchiato,” you decide, a grateful smile on your face while he looks down and writes the orders.

“A name?”

“Penny,” came your automatic response.

You never used your real name in coffee shops.

Kirishima suppressed the way that his mouth wanted to drop into a sad smile, and like two rejected teenagers, the money was exchanged. Before Kirishima could attempt to calm his disappointed soul, you walked out of the shop with the coffees and tea in hand.

“What was that about?” Kaminari asked, his eyes wide. “There was so much flirting and then poof, gone from both sides. Come on, dude, it’s my job to fail at flirting, not yours!”

Kirishima laughed, ignoring the way that his three friends looked at him with concern and curiosity. “Nothing, I just… the customer looked like how y/n described herself to be…”

“Oh… sorry, bro.”

“Nah, it’s all good,” Kirishima waved it off, and without so much as another slap on the back, he went back to work.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“What the hell are you doing?”

Kirishima looked up from his phone, his fingers mid-type pausing only for a millisecond before continuing to text blindly. 

“Oh, hey, Bakubro, what’s up?” he cheerfully spoke, ignorant to the controller in the ash blond’s hand. 

“It’s your turn, shitty hair, pay fucking attention!” Bakugou barked, tossing the plastic controller into his chest. Kirishima grunted, the feeling of the plastic slamming against his chest was less than ideal, but the smile on his face didn’t waiver while he offered his best friend the controller back.

“It’s all good, you can have another turn, I can handle being out this round!”

“Kiri, that’s six rounds in a row,” Kaminari spoke up, his face in a teasing smirk.

It was then that Kirishima’s face turned approximately the same color as his hair. “I didn’t—”

“Awww, Eijirou has a little crush on y/n!!!” Kaminari sang, resulting in agreeing with noises from Sero and Midoriya. Only Bakugou and Todoroki remained silent. 

Kirishima only laughed, he knew he couldn’t deny that fact, but he wouldn’t say it aloud — especially because Bakugou seemed to hate you. It had been now four months since the two of you had ‘meet,’ and while he still had no face to imagine you with, things had taken a slightly flirty route between the two of you.

Calls were much more frequent, nearly all nights the two of you would speak, even if it was just a measly summary of the day and a ‘sweet dreams’ and a ‘goodnight’ and an ‘I love you.’ It always happened nowadays.

Tonight was an exception, of course, because he was out with his friends, and apparently, you were doing the same. 

“You can’t be fucking serious?” Bakugou spat, a laugh spluttering from his lips, but it was cold and held no humor. “You caught feelings for a person who’s too much of a fucking coward to reveal a picture of themselves?”

“That’s not fair; besides, it's not about physical appearance!” Kirishima waved him off, pressing send to his text message.

have fun tonight! text me when u get back home if ur able to!

“Just how naive can you be?” Bakugou sneered, his hand taking the phone from Kirishima's side. “Six months of talking every week, texting every day, and this y/n still hasn’t trusted you with a single picture of them? I know you said that she told you how she looked, and all that shit, but let's be real, it’s so easy to lie about how you look like when you don’t have to provide a picture. What y/n say? Big tits? Big ass? Small waist? What about her did she say that made you so fucking insane over her?”

“N-Nothing! We didn’t talk about our body types!” Kirishima’s eyes widened significantly, the once comfortable atmosphere of the room wholly gone while Bakugou’s vermillion eyes seethed silently. “None of that matters! I told you the truth! I like y/n because of her personality, she’s manly, and I like that a lot! It’s not about her appearance, how pessimistic can you get, bro! I promise you, she’s trustworthy!”

“Is she really?”

“What?”

“How can you be in love with someone who you trust entirely, but doesn’t trust you at all? You said that y/n won’t show you a picture of herself because she’s scared you won’t like her? How is that trusting you? How is that fucking fair? To me, that sounds like some fucked up catfishing thing.”

“We talk on the phone, dude,” Kirishima said softly, but those thoughts were invading his mind. Did you not trust him? He knew he wasn’t the best option in the world, and he had accepted that in time and by improving on what he thought he was best at. But did you, after all this time, really not believe him when he claimed nothing would change when he saw you? “Catfishes don’t even do that… besides, the first call was by accident, why would someone—”

“Dunce face, what’s that one fucking idiotic thing you do for fun?” Bakugou snapped at the blond, not even bothering to look at him.

“Well, there’s a lot of things I do that you—” Kaminari laughed awkwardly, his smile tight and awkward.

“Kaminari.”

“I call… random numbers… pretending to have a big issue to see how they react…” he admitted, and Kirishima’s stomach clenched.

“And?” Bakugou snarled.

“I pretend to be a girl…”

“Don’t be stupid, Bakugou, this is more than one time!” Kirishima groaned.

“It's a voice that you can’t attach a face to, who knows if this is a person you can trust! People with voice acting exist in this world, how the hell do you possibly know that they’re not one of them?! Be fucking real, if ‘y/n’ trusted you, if that’s even their name, they wouldn’t be hiding their face from you.”

Kirishima didn’t say anything else, the acid piling in his throat was too much for him to even look at his friend. The night didn’t really recover from that conversation, and Kirishima eventually found himself back home.

He sat at the edge of his bed, his phone in his hands, waiting for a message from you. He couldn’t sleep, and even though he had work tomorrow morning, he found himself wide awake, unable to let sleep consume.

It was three in the morning when you sent a text, his eyes still wide awake, and with shaky fingers, he read the message.

i just got home can you believe that i drank three cups of wine and didnt get tipsy??????? thats on being a raging alcoholic ;D

Kirishima wanted to laugh; on god, he would’ve found this beyond delightful to read because he knew you couldn’t handle your liquor, but that bitter stream of acid destroyed the humor in his thoughts.

Were you really telling the truth? Was this all a lie?

He didn’t text back; instead, his finger pressed the call button, and he held his breath.

“Helloooo?” a voice picked up on the second ring, but it wasn’t your voice. It was a voice he didn’t recognize at all.

‘Voice actors,’ Bakugou’s voice reentered his thoughts, and the phone in his hand nearly dropped.

“Sorry, hello?” the voice he knew as you finally came through, and Kirishima let out a shallow breath, one so small, so mediocrely weak it burned his lungs.

“Do you trust me?” he asked softly, maybe too softly because you asked with a strained laugh for him to repeat his words. “Do you trust me, y/n?”

There was a pause on your end, too long a beat for Kirishima to be comfortable with.

“Of course I trust you, Ei, are you okay?”

“Do you actually trust me, or are you lying?”

“Woah there,” you said a small laugh on your tongue, but there was only confusion in it, not your contagious sound. “Did you drink? It’s a work night, you never do that!”

“Answer the question,” Kirishima spoke with finality, his shoulders tense, tears pushing past his eyes while he struggled to maintain composure.

Prove Bakugou wrong, please, prove Bakugou wrong.

“Of course I do,” you spoke with genuine clarity, but still, Kirishima was rattled, his confidence blown. “What’s going on?”

Did he want to confess to his insecurities? Was it worth it? His breathing became frantic, almost as if he was going insane just thinking about where his thoughts were. But Kirishima was never good at hiding things, no he was as open as a book.

“Why won’t you let me see you… we’ve been friends for six months, and the only thing I know about you is your eye color and your hair color. It’s so insanely generic that I can’t… I can’t do this.”

“What are you trying to say?” you ask, your voice small, almost a whisper of all the energy one could have at this time of night.

“I can’t be friends with someone who doesn’t trust me, who’s using me,” he spoke with perfect clarity that hid away his insecurities about this all. “For all, I know nothing about you is real, that this is all just some ploy to hurt me in the end. Six months and you can’t trust me with a single meet up or even a picture? I just… has this been a game for you, y/n? Or is that even your name.”

The call ended and a single message held on his screen, this call has been dropped, but you didn’t seem to want to call him back.

Kirishima didn’t sleep a wink that night, his words coming back to bite him in the throat each and every time he thought he was close enough to sleep. Insecurities riled up in him, consuming him entirely.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

He tried to call back.

For fourteen straight days, Kirishima attempted to call you back.

Every time he called you, he would always hang up before he could take back his words. But each call, after he had prematurely hung up, he would recant his mean words to the unresponsive phone. He did trust you, he was weak, he was unmanly to assume those things. You could take, however long it took to finally trust him again because he would wait for you no matter what. He apologized again and again until the very last one he broke down into silent tears, a single message of ‘I hope one day you’ll forgive me’ hung weakly on his voice and put his phone away. 

It was sixteen days since he had spoken those cruel words to you, and in that time, he didn’t regret finally talking about his ill feelings towards wanting to reveal yourself to him. But he did regret the way it came out; instead of it being a deep and personal conversation, it came out as bitter and one-sided. The two of you were disconnected, and he felt empty.

But he couldn’t focus on it, not today, after all, it was Bakugou’s birthday, and everyone was gathering at the local fancy restaurant to celebrate. 

Kirishima dressed up presentable, wearing a navy blue button-up, and dark slacks. He walked towards the entrance of the restaurant where Kaminari, Sero, and Midoriya were eagerly leading the group of them into the building. Typically Kirishima would’ve been with them in terms of spirit, but he felt energyless at the moment.

With the moon high in the sky, Kirishima stilled when Bakugou called out his name.

He stared at his best friend, the ash blond’s lip curled into a sneer while he huffed, “Listen, Kirishima, I’m sorry for what I said that night.”

“What? Oh, no, it’s okay, Bakugou!” Kirishima laughed, his hand slapping to the back of his neck. “You weren’t wrong.”

“I never said I was wrong,” Bakugou grunted, his eyes locked on Kirishima’s while he shoved his hands into his pockets. Kirishima stilled, unsure as to where this would be leading. “I just don’t want you to get hurt. I know that Mina hurt you badly, and you’re too big of an idiot to not see when things arise. Maybe y/n is genuine, but if you aren’t fucking honest with her about your own feelings about how she’s so secretive, it’s not going to work.”

Kirishima smiled softly, a weak shrug moving through him, “I know, thanks, man.”

Bakugou nodded, and without a word, he continued on ahead where Midoriya was yelling at them to hurry up and come so they could be seated. 

Kirishima sighed, rolling out his shoulders before following afterward.

Kirishima followed after the hostess, smiling at her gratefully when she sat the group into their own private room and left. 

“Bakugou’s paying, right?” Kaminari stage whispered to Midoriya while staring at the prices on the menu.

“Eat shit, dunce face, learn how to save up your fucking money the next time you offer to come to this fucking place!” Bakugou roared, hearing the whisper.

“I’ll be covering the bill,” Todoroki informed with a smirk on his face. Kirishima laughed, looking at the prices and indeed agreeing with Kaminari’s statement. Having a wealthy friend was very convenient at times like this.

“Hi, welcome to Eiko, I’ll be your waitress today!” a voice chirped from the entrance of the room, and Kirishima froze, he recognized that voice and face.

It was the person he had mistaken for you all those months ago.

By the smile on your face, it seemed that you recognized them all too.

“And what is your name,” Sero winked, his eyes captivated by you.

“Oh, haha, sorry, my name is y/n,” you smiled, moving the menus you held in your hand to show the silver nametag on your uniform.

“Oh, like Kirishima’s y/n,” Kaminari laughed, pointing a finger at Kirishima, not at all being as quiet as he probably thought himself to be. But it seemed that he wasn’t the only one who thought that because while Kirishima was staring at your face, embarrassingly taking you in, you followed Kaminari’s finger.

Your sight sat on the redhead in the middle whose name was Kirishima, and you straightened up in what felt like panic. 

“You’re Kirishima?” you asked quietly, your finger grasping the menus so tightly, your knuckles turned white. “Kirishima Eijirou.”

“The one and only,” Kaminari voiced for him, his arm thrown over Kirishima’s shoulder while he nodded like a scholar. “And why do you ask?”

“Shut the fuck up, dunce face.” Bakugou hissed.

Kirishima continued to stare at you, a million words running through his head, yet not a single one being translated on his tongue. You were beautiful.

What should he say?

What could he say?

Your lips pursed, and you shook your head, a smile of disbelief spreading across your face, “Unbelievable.”

“Y/n—”

“Be quiet,” you snap, your tone angry, but your eyes beyond hurt. “What can I get you guys to drink?”

Dinner wasn’t exactly a pleasant time, you came in and left faster than anyone could blink, and yet none of their drinks went empty, nor did they really have a problem. Much quicker than Kirishima would’ve liked, they were done and were soon piling out of the restaurant after Kirishima decided to leave a very, very generous tip.

“I’m going to stay until I can speak to y/n,” Kirishima said, waving off his friends who were expecting him to follow. But he couldn’t, not when he felt like the world's biggest ass for what he did to you.

“Good luck,” they all wished him well before eventually leaving, knowing better than to stick around.

So there at the outside bench, Kirishima waited.

Two hours he sat there until you emerged from the front door, your hair was no longer put back, you held your apron in your hand, and your purse on your shoulder.

“Y/n!” he called out, his feet no longer cemented into place; he strode after you.

You didn’t seem to pick up the pace, nor did you slow down. You were focused on your car that sat at the edge of the parking lot, and you ignored his calls.

It wasn’t until his hand touched your shoulder, and he appeared before you did Kirishima freeze again. Angry hot tears slid down your face, your face screwed up, your shoulders stiff.

“What do you want, Kirishima?” you spat, but there was only exhaustion in your voice, nothing bitter, nothing at all what Kirishima deserved from you.

“I want to apologize,” Kirishima whispered, his hands struggling to reach out and wipe your tears away. You were crying because of him, he did this to you. “I was a dick, I was… beyond unmanly to you, and I’m so sorry! I just let Bakugou get into my head, and I’ve never been a secure person because, well, I’m just… fuck, I don’t even know, but all I know is that you didn’t deserve this. And I like you so much, but I didn’t — I don’t know what to do?!”

Your eyes stared up at him, they were bright with tears, wounded beyond anything Kirishima could hope to fix.

“That night, you said if I didn’t trust you, but I did trust you! I’ve always trusted you—” your finger jabbed his chest— “but it was you who didn’t trust me! I get that it’s hard to not have a picture of someone you care about after a long length of time, but we were always fine for a while! It was going to happen, but while I trusted you, I didn’t trust myself, okay?! I couldn’t trust myself to see that if you were so much more handsome than me that I couldn’t be confident enough to let myself be friends with you! I constantly fuck up relationships when I have crushes on people because… I don’t know, I just do! But you were someone with no risk and the highest risk, and I wanted to be sure in my own feelings before giving you a picture of me! But… fuck, Kirishima, you didn’t trust me!”

Kirishima’s throat tightened, the tears on your face a guilty reminder that this was because of him. But how could he fix this?

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his hands grabbing onto your arms just above the elbow, and his head hung by your forehead, not quite touching you, but just enough that his spiked hair teased the atoms between you. You were taller than he expected, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t deal with, no, not at all. “You’re right, I didn’t trust you, and you didn’t deserve that. I don’t think there’s anything that I can say, or do for that matter, to change your mind, and I’m sorry. I just panicked because who gets into this type of situation, how do I tell my phone friend that I have feelings for her? I was weak, and I am so fucking pathetic, and I just want to make things better. If you’ll let me be your friend again…”

He slowly looked back up at you, and you were frozen in your place, tears falling down your face still.

“I don’t think we can be friends,” you confessed, and Kirishima’s heart broke in two, his hands dropping from your arms in his embarrassment and humiliation.

“Oh, well, I’m sorry still, um… maybe I’ll see you again?” Kirishima smiled despite it all, he kept smiling despite the crack in his chest and his soul.

“You will,” you murmured, and before Kirishima could blink, your fists wrapped in his collar, and you brought him down for an ardent kiss that he was not quick to respond to. It took three seconds for him to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you in, kissing you again and again and again.

It didn’t seem to matter to either one of you that you were both now kissing without a care in the world in the middle of a parking lot, because you both had your emotions exposed to the other, and you didn’t want to be friends. At least not when the man who held your heart confessed that you held his in yours. 

The two of you weren’t truly disconnected, it was just a little lost moment in your call.

[spookyboywhump]

Everett and baby Eli because yeah

***

He didn’t remember falling asleep. He blinked tiredly as he stared up at the ceiling, vaguely aware of how cold he was despite being covered in sweat. Sure he hadn’t showered after getting home but he swore it hadn’t been that bad. That morning he knew he was coming down with something, he’d woken up with a sore throat and a cough but he’d hoped he’d have a day or two before the real symptoms set in, but apparently he wasn’t that lucky. He finally forced himself to sit up, glancing around the room, he saw it was dark out already, he must’ve slept for hours, and Eli wasn’t in his bed. The door was open though, and he could hear his voice from across the apartment, Everett figured he was talking to their mom.

He got out of bed, immediately hit with a wave of nausea and dizziness, but after waiting a moment for it to pass he left the room, making his way down the hall. The tv and lights were off in the living room, but he found Eli in the kitchen, focused intently on a picture he was coloring. Their mom was nowhere in sight, and he realized Eli had likely been talking himself through what he was doing, as he often did. He looked up when Everett walked into the room though, immediately dropping the crayon he was holding and jumping to his feet, standing on the chair.

“Ev! Y-you- you’re awake!” He said, smiling at him.

“Sure am.” He said, smiling back at him. “Where’s mom at, did she go to bed early?” He asked, and Eli shook his head.

“Sh-she left er-earlier, a- uh few hours a-ago, I-I think.” He told him, and Everett felt his stomach drop. When he looked at the clock on the stove he saw it was already past eight, he couldn’t believe Eli had been by himself that long. He instantly felt sick and guilty, and Eli could see it on his face. “Wh-what- what’s- what’s wrong?” He asked, that happy look on his face quickly shifting to concern. He always got this little frown on his face, and an almost scared look in his big blue eyes. It upset Everett just to see him like that, he didn’t need to be so worried about anything at only eight years old.

“Nothing… hey, listen, if she leaves while I’m asleep again, I want you to wake me up right away, okay?” He told him as he walked over, and Eli nodded quickly.

“Oh-okay!” He said, and giggled when Ev ruffled his hair.

“She fed you before she left, right?” He asked, and much to his dismay Eli shook his head.

“Sh-she said- she said you would when- when you w-woke up…” He told him, and Everett sighed, walking past him to find something to make.

“Alright kid, think you can clean up your stuff while I make dinner?” He asked him, searching through the cabinets and freezer for something rather low effort to make. He told himself he’d make Eli a good breakfast when he was feeling better, because he knew he didn’t have it in him to make a good dinner. Thankfully, Eli was easy to please.

He was more than happy to stand next to the stove for a while, enjoying the warmth he got from it. He wished he’d grabbed his jacket before leaving the room. He could hear Eli moving around behind him, gathering up papers and putting crayons back into the box. After a moment he felt him tug on the hem of his shirt and he looked down, holding up a brightly colored picture of a shark.

“L-look- look! This- uh this is a- a whale sh-shark!” He said, a big smile on his face. “It’s uh- it has wh-whale in the- in the name but it is a sh- a shark.”

“It looks great, Eli!” He told him, trying to sound as upbeat as he could with a sore throat and hoarse voice. “Go ahead and put it on the fridge, okay?” He told him, and Eli happily ran over to stick it to the fridge door with a magnet, among all the other doodles Everett had pinned there. He was always so proud of them, and whenever Everett brought a friend by Eli would take any chance he got to show them all his finest work. He really thought it was just adorable.

It didn’t take long for him to get food made for Eli, the kid probably couldn’t have been more happy to have a bowl of mac and cheese set in front of him, and while he ate Everett made himself some hot tea, just wanting something to soothe his throat.

“Are-aren’t you- aren’t you gonna c-come eat?” Eli asked, twisting around in his chair to look at him.

“No, I’m not hungry.” He told him. Truthfully even the smell of food was making him more and more nauseous, he worried if he tried he may vomit, and that was the last thing he needed right now. He brought his mug over to the table and sat down across from his brother, allowing himself to relax as he held the warm mug with both hands.

Eli quieted down for a moment while he ate, but eventually he started up again, telling Everett about the day he’d had at school. He excitedly told him about how he got an A on a spelling test, and he found a caterpillar at recess but he hadn’t been allowed to bring it inside, and he’d even managed to answer a question in class without stuttering once, which he was especially proud of. He seemed happy, and that made Everett happy considering Eli usually didn’t have such great days at school.

“Ev-Ev can I- Can you put a uh, a movie on for me?” He asked once he’d finished eating, getting up to put his bowl in the sink before Everett could do it. He was still so small, even for his age, he had to stand on his toes to reach without just dropping it in. Everett had to force himself to not do everything for him, even if he was little he was more than capable.

“Sure thing kid, go pick one out and I’ll set it up.” He told him, and Eli happily ran off to the living room. In the meantime Everett went to their bedroom to grab his jacket, pulling it on and zipping it up, but he was still freezing cold. He tried to ignore it though, he didn’t want to look as awful as he felt. He returned to the living room and Eli eagerly handed him the movie he picked before going to jump onto the couch. It was the same one he’d picked multiple times a week for the past month or so, but he didn’t really mind, he just put it on the tv and then went to sit down with Eli, letting him cuddle up against his side.

He tried to stay awake but now that they were settled down the exhaustion was quickly over taking him once again. He’d already slept enough, he thought he had anyway, but it was difficult for him to keep his eyes open, and he was still shivering even with Eli cuddled up against him. At least once Eli asked if he was okay, he seemed so worried, Everett just told him he was fine. Eventually, despite his best efforts, his eyes finally fell shut and he slipped into a restless, feverish sleep.

He wasn’t sure how long he slept but when he woke up the room was quiet, the movie paused, and he was lying on his side on the couch, shivering violently, to the point his muscles ached. At first he started to panic, he didn’t see Eli in his immediate sight, but when he started to sit up he saw him at the other end of the couch, trying to pull a blanket over him.

“Ev!” He said as soon as he saw he was awake, looking at him with big, worried eyes.

“Hey kid… what are you doing…?” He asked with a yawn, sitting up completely as he crossed his arms over his chest. Despite his jacket he was still freezing cold.

“You- you seemed- you seemed cold, and- and you looked up-upset while you uh while you slept, like- like you were having a bad dream…” He said, his voice shaking like he was about to cry. “So-so I got a- a blanket…”

“Oh, Eli… you don’t need to worry about me...” He assured him. He gently took the blanket from him and pulled it up over his legs, and when he did so Eli picked something up off the floor, holding his stuffed shark out to him.

“Here!”

“What? That’s your shark, you keep that.” He told him, but he shook his head, more or less pushing it into his hands.

“Ev- Ev helps me s-sleep, so, so you need him.” He said, and Everett didn’t have much of a choice but to accept it. He tucked it under one arm and pulled the blanket back, motioning for Eli to climb up onto his lap, which he quickly did, laying on his chest as Everett draped the blanket over both of them. He managed to grab the remote and he restarted the movie for Eli, holding his brother close to him as he finally began to relax. He was still cold but the blanket and weight of his brother were helping to warm him up, and he still couldn’t keep his eyes open.

He fell back asleep while still holding Eli, but this time he was much more comfortable and relaxed than before.

***

Two days passed and Everett had started to feel a lot better. He woke up to get Eli ready for school as normal, but when he shook him awake the boy whined, curling up and hugging his shark closer to his chest. This wasn’t like him, and Everett knelt down beside the bed, pressing the back of his hand against his forehead. He was burning up, and he sighed heavily, not surprised Eli caught a cold from him given how easily he got sick.

“Hey kid… how’re you feeling…?” He asked softly, and Eli shook his head, whining again in response. “Alright, I’ll call your school and get you some medicine, okay?” He told him, and he nodded.

He tried to do so quickly, and Eli gagged when he drank the cold medicine from the cup, but he didn’t cry this time so Everett knew that was a good sign. He helped prop him up with pillows and stuffed animals and he stepped away to let him rest, but Eli reached his arms out towards him, like he was trying to grab him.

“Eeev…” He whimpered, looking absolutely pitiful, teary eyed and red in the face. Everett couldn’t stand to see him so sad, and he had him move over, sitting down with him and hugging him close to his side. He sniffled as he cuddled up to him, and Everett gently ran his fingers over his arm, knowing it comforted him.

In no time he quieted down, and his breathing returned to being even as he drifted off back to sleep, hugging Everett as best he could. It would be a long few days, whenever Eli got sick he always got it bad but Everett didn’t mind having to care for him- especially after Eli’s sweet attempt to care for his older brother while he was sick. If anything he was just happy to spend time with him, giving him the attention he knew he really needed. Eventually he managed to fall back asleep himself, still holding Eli at his side.