#literally this is such a good food i can make so easy and can be made a bunch of different ways depending how i feel or what i want

[rosicheeks]

Anyone have any easy (cheap) dinners when you feel like shit and don’t want to do anything?

[chekovsphaser]

The problem with USAmerican recipes is that most of them call for ingredients that don't exist outside of the US and/or ready mixes. If I wanted to use a ready mix I would read the instructions on the box. Ergo functionally useless to me.

The problem with Brazilian recipes is that most of them are written as if they are just reminding you of how to make something you already know how to make. As such, information like how long to bake something, or what temperature the oven should be on, high or low fire on the stove, or even on occasion what kind of spoon (table or teaspoon) to use is deemed extraneous. Which is also functionally useless.

I end up using the Brazilian recipes while checking English-language ones for baking time/temp and verifying spoon sizes. And also just a healthy dollop of doing whatever the hell I want anyway, because in the end I am Brazilian after all.

[gnaga37]

videos about how to improve minecraft way too often want to change the parts of the game I actually like

[fragglerockopinions]

.

[littlecafe]

i’ve been obsessed with this game for a couple months now called livly island and it’s so funny because there’s literally nothing to do in it but ironically that’s what keeps me going on because i don’t feel pressured to have to do much!! it’s a decorating, dress up, basic pet gacha game and you mainly do your dailies and go water and harvest trees and take care of your pets

when you first join you get 10 free pulls in the “tutorial” phase but they make you pull it on the current newest banner only, so i noticed a new banner is coming into the game today so i screenshot both banners so you can choose which one you like more:

teapot image, the newest one right now it’s already in game so if you like it start now and you’ll get 10 free pulls on it

succulents and keyboard image, this will be added into the game later today (12pm japan time, roughly 7hrs away) so if you like this one more then wait until that time to download the game and you’ll get the 10 free pulls on that one instead

even though it’s a gacha game, one good thing is that it let’s you trade your duplicate items with other players (it uses gacha currency to trade but the cost is less than a single pull so it’s actually better!) the english player base isn’t as big as the japanese and chinese player base but the game has google translate built in so it’s not too hard to understand each other 

my id in game is pkxmf7h5 if you’d like to add me! you can also ask me anything if you need help, it’s a simple game but there are some quirks and it took a while for me to get used to their menus and submenu setup lol

[marklikely]

the framing of the critic character in the menu really pissed me off bc no offense but if i was paying 12k for a meal and you served me a broken emulsification id comment on it too

[nexus-nebulae]

new food i can make new food i can make

[phagodyke]

ughhhh

[ceciliathecabinwitch]

Made what my boss calls ‘American spaghetti’ for dinner, which is to say that I made spaghetti but I used canned sauce

But anyway, my partner found out today that one of his favorite coworkers is leaving and was pretty bummed so it was a nice opportunity for me to actually get into the kitchen for the first time in a little bit and I added in some basil (which I use for most home/peace/happiness things) and rosemary (which I use for kind of clearing the air, in this case of that negativity/sadness) and he seems to have pepped up quite a bit

That probably has more to do with the fact that spaghetti is so delicious it’s hard to be sad after you eat it than anything about the love and intention and stirring technique used and all that, but hey, why not both?

Also pro tip that may seem super obvious to people but some people don’t know this:

If you’re making spaghetti after you boil the noodles, first of all you should drain them, and then you should add them to the sauce and mix them in there (a little at a time makes this work better/more easily but you can just dump them all in if you want) because that gets the noodles sauced up a Lot better than just adding sauce to the top of the noodles when you serve it does, even if you mix it once you have your portion

[exerlin]

my life would be so much better with a 2nd non-bathroom room and a bunny rabbit

[gremlingottoosilly]

I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 

— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 

— Ah…your father is at home? 

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 

— You didn’t tell him about me? 

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh. 

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 

— Ja. You can have it. 

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 

— What do you mean by this, sir? 

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 

König is. 

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man. 

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing. 

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 

You look like a good candidate. 

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here. 

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is. 

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 

— I don’t want to break his heart. 

— He doesn’t have one. 

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum. 

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul. 

— I’ll tell him. 

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 

— I need to return to my dorm. 

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 

[seat-safety-switch]

I don't know if you've ever been to Paris before, but I recommend going. Normally, I would not have gone, but I made a really rich enemy on IRC and he spent a lot of money to have me kidnapped and brought to his home country. While I was there, I got to try a bunch of restaurants (they're hostage-takers, not barbarians) and came away impressed. Something was missing, though, and herein is my genius idea.

In Paris you can get any kind of food. Chinese, Vietnamese, Japanese, Thai: and it's all good. All of it. You literally can't find a bad restaurant. At one point, I walked into a convenience store and got a plate of one-Euro nachos that made me cry at the beauty of the arrangement.

Everyone around me was taking this for granted. Having lived there for years, their quality threshold had crept invisibly upwards until nothing could impress again. They needed something to re-calibrate their sense of truly bad food. That's where I came in. After I got kicked out of the country, I decided to come back with some investor support. I can burn cereal, usually by roasting it gently with a blowtorch on the top of an old gas can. Investors were easy to find.

Our first week of opening was tremendous. Hardened Parisians were discovering their first taste of truly incompetent food. The novelty of it all had captured them. There's just one problem, though: after making an entire lunch rush's feast of poorly-cut toast in reheated canned soup, my cooking skills began to improve from sheer experience. The complaints began to change tone. You got too good, they cried, you're not the same bad chef we once loved. Again, I was deported.

I looked out the window of the plane as it left De Gaulle, staring down onto the beautiful streets of Paris. Down there, I imagined, real gourmets were now eating food out of trash cans out of desperation to recapture what they had experienced with me. If there is one nice thing to be said, I now have two Michelin Stars here in my homeland of Canada, where my consommé-and-grilled-cheese recipe is now so much better than most of our restaurants that it made the Prime Minister Herself come and spit in my face for ruining the economy, before awarding me an Order of Canada. It's not the same.

[foreveradreamaway]

streaming- MV33/1

summary- a compilation of moments from maxs streams

i really loved writing this as i always have small idea that aren’t long enough to be their own post, if you have any small idea that goes with this or just in general then please comment it or send it to me and i will make a part two or another post similar <3

max loved to stream every now and then. he loved the interactions with fans and getting to play with his friends. you also loved when max streamed because it gave you some peace and quiet for a while, it also allowed you to do some house work without max following you like a lost puppy.

you had made numerous appearances in his streams and his fans loved it. probably enjoying seeing you both as actual humans and getting to see how you both live your daily lives together. some fans had made a compilation of the many times you made an appearance in one of maxs streams.

🏎️

max sat in his gaming chair immersed in whatever game he was playing. you needed something from the room he was in and it couldn’t wait.

you opened the door as slowly and quietly as possible and creeped over to the thing you needed. apparently you weren’t quiet enough and he heard you. he moved one side of his headset off his ear.

“sorry, i just needed to grab the end thing for the hoover.” you sheepishly smiled. he only grinned in return. you took this as the opportunity to walk up behind him so you were in the frame.

“what are you playing?” you questioned as your face finally came in shot.

“im playing cod with lando, charles and carlos”

“aww cute” you sent a quick wave to say hello to everyone that was on the other end of the camera. however your eyes were quickly caught by the top of maxs head.

“can they hear me?” you questioned, he nodded. “okay. hello everyone, it’s your favourite person in the world here and i just needed to show you something” max had a confused look on his face as he watched you through the camera, wondering what you were about to show.

your hands reached for each side of the head set that was on his head and slowly removed it and handed it to him. your hands then went to either side of his head and tilted it down.

“max gets really bad headset hair guys and it will literally stay like this for the rest of the day” max’s hands quickly went up to his hair to attempt to fix while you and the chat couldn’t help but laugh.

“shut up” he grumbled as he lifted the head set back onto his head. “love you baby!” you called over your shoulder as you left the room.

“i hate her”

“i heard that!”

🏎️

“mijn liefste, wil je zo pasta? Ik ben er nu een paar aan het maken” you can’t be seen as you poke your head round the door.

“Het gaat goed, dank je schat” he replies while not taking his eyes off the game but removing one side of his headset. “welke pasta ben je aan het maken?”

“i know i’m learning but im not that good yet max” you laugh.

“i said ‘what pasta are you making” he replies, suddenly feeling hunger bubble his stomach.

“i’m not sure yet. are you sure you don’t want any? i’ll surprise you” making food has always been one of your love languages, your mum had shown you to cook as soon as she could and you picked it up quick.

“yeah go on then” he finally turns to you and smiles as you walk away. when he finally turns back he sees the chat filled with questions and people telling him how cute you both are.

“yeah she is learning dutch. i’m teaching her” his face lights up as he talks about you. “it’s very easy for her though because she already knows other languages so she picks it up quickly” his smile never leaving his face.

🏎️

max is looking intensely at the chat in-front of him, reading everything is the chat. answering a couple questions. he does this until he sees a familiar name come up.

“‘answer your phone’ what?” he quickly picks up his phone to see that he has ten missed calls from you. he is quick to call you back.

“max stop putting your phone on do not disturb and silent” you scold. he always did when he was streaming, he always said it was because he didn’t want to be disturbed however sometimes it was important. like now.

“sorry schat.”

“do you want anything from the shop? i’ve already got your m&ms and tomato soup.” max had a soft spot for m&ms and everyone knows about this man’s love of tomato soup.

“no i’m okay thank you baby. what are we having for dinner” max had a massive smile on his face. half because he was talking to you and because he knew how much everyone watching would love the conversation.

“well you’ve got mean prep” you couldn’t help but laugh as max groaned loudly and threw his head back. he hated meal prep. don’t get me wrong he loved being healthy and eating nice food but sometimes he just craved your cooking. “and i’m having a stir fry.”

“ugh whatever. i want stir fry”

“i know baby. ill make you one as soon as your nutritionist will allow me too”

“okay fine. when will you be home?” max kept the phone close to his mic to make sure everyone would be able to hear you on the other end of the phone.

“not long, i took the ferrari so it won’t take me long to get home. i don’t have my keys so be ready to pick up your phone and open the door! okay, i love you bye” you ended the phone call quickly before he could say anything about you taking his car.

“i swear she prefers my cars over her own” he laughed as he read through the chat again.

🏎️

when you moved in with max you demanded that a sofa be put into his gaming/office room. he got you the cosiest sofa he could just to make sure you were comfy. max spent a lot of time in the room and you missed him when he was in there.

before you lived together, you tried to sit on the floor when you were round but you just weren’t comfortable enough so that’s when you demanded a sofa. if max was streaming or just had some admin stuff to do, you would just sit on the sofa and enjoy each-others company.

max was streaming, as per usual, while you sat all snuggled up on the sofa across the room. you had one the comfiest jumper of his that you could find, his joggers, a blanket covering your whole body and tucked under your chin and you glasses that sat on your nose.

max had specifically bought a pair of joggers that were too small for him. one day he came home to see you wearing a pair of his that were far to big for you and when he questioned you, you said that you just enjoy wearing his clothes. so the next day he went and bought a pair that were to small and placed them in his waldrobe. from then on they were yours.

you were also a secret iPad kid at heart. your iPad was literally your prized possession and you took it everywhere with you. now was no different as you sat there with your ipad resting on your legs as you watched tik tok.

“look” you turned the ipad around so that it was facing max, he leant on the arm rest of the chair to get a better view of what you were showing him. it was a cat.

“we should get sassy and jimmy one” he laughed as you nodded. he sat back into his chair and caught what the chat were saying. many people asking where you were.

he grabbed the camera from its holder and turned it to face you, showing you under the blanket. he got up out his chair and moved to sit next to you on the sofa.

“you are actually such an old man” you laughed as he struggled to hold the camera so that it would get a view of both of you. “give it to me” you took the camera from his hand and wrapped your other arm around his neck to bring him closer to you.

“hey guys, it’s your favourite person in the world here” the camera now had a perfect view of both of you as you put a quick peace sign up to the camera. you quickly nudged max and his fingers quickly went to the same position as yours. “i want to show you all my outfit, hold this baby” you handed the camera to max and threw the blanket onto him as you stood from your seat.

“max, show them my whole body my love” you laughed as he was only showing the camera your legs. “i’m trying Schat” you leant forward a bit and moved maxs hand so it faced where it should be.

“okay so my glasses are from specsavers, they are the only people i trust with my glasses. even if i need a new pair i would rather fly home than get a pair from anywhere else. because if they messed my glasses up i would just hear my mum in my ear saying ‘should have gone to specsavers’. my jumper is maxs- where is this jumper from?” you questioned him.

“umm its a zara one i think”

“okay so the jumper is from zara and these joggers are from nike. can i even say that? do they even sponsor you?” max’s laugh could be heard from behind the camera before he replies. “yeah it’s okay. i think” his face fell into a sheepish grin behind the camera.

“my socks are from god knows where. and the blanket is from also god knows where.” you gave the camera a big smile as you fell back into your previous position.

“you are the new version of maxplaining”

“shut up”

🏎️

“can we play fifa?” you were sat on the floor, cross legged, next to max while he sat in his gaming chair. “you only want to play fifa because you always beat me” he huffed.

“exactly” you grinned at him.

[ventismacchiato]

11 stuck with you — five feet apart !

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

ACT TWO

Another hot and sticky night in the stuffy dorms led you outside earlier than usual. Maybe if you were up before Scara you could make something without depending on him for food like everyone else was. 

But alas, the universe hated you. And there he was. Scaramouche, already awake, sitting at the kitchen island mindlessly stirring a cup of tea. But more important than that was the tray of mouth watering muffins sitting in front of him. 

“Did you make those?” you ask cautiously, eyeing him as if he laced them with poison just for the hell of it.

He glanced up, his face unreadable.

“No,” he answers, “Yoimiya did.” 

You felt like thanking the gods right then and there. Relief washed over you. Yoimiya was a safe bet. You grabbed one of the chocolate chip muffins and took a tentative bite. It was sweet, soft, and perfect. At last, something that wasn’t a disaster.

“Finally,” you muttered, savoring the taste. “Something I can actually eat.”

Scara side eyes you, but you didn’t spare him a glance before grabbing another one. You left the blueberry ones untouched, as it wasn’t your favorite. 

“Not surprised you chose the unhealthy option,” Scara speaks up, reaching over to grab a blueberry one.

“I’m not a fan,” you huff, getting defensive over your picky palate. 

“Such a child,” he muttered, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

Just then, the door swung open, and Yoimiya waltzed in along with everyone else.

“Good morning, everyone!” she chirped, her hair bouncing as she moved, “I’m starving!”

“Have some of the muffins you made,” you suggest, “They were really good.”

“Hm? What muffins?” Yoimiya asks as Venti steps around her to grab one, “I didn’t make those, Scara did.”

You turned to Scara, mouth agape. “What? But you said-”

His cheeks flushed slightly, but he recovered quickly, crossing his arms defiantly.

“Fuck off, I said Yoimiya made them,” he corrected, crossing his arms defensively.

“Scara, I literally watched you mix the batter,” she said, “You told me to fuck off because I kept licking the spoons.”

Childe, Aether, and Venti, who had been leaning against the wall munching on said muffins, immediately perked up, sensing an opportunity to annoy the hothead. 

“Looks like Scara’s a real tsundere” Childe laughed, elbowing Aether.

“Right? Can’t even admit he can bake,” Aether chimed in, stifling a chuckle.

“Whatever,” Scara scoffed, getting up and grabbing the water pails and walking off. Lumine shoved you after him.

“Go help him fetch the water,” she suggested, not taking no for an answer.

Scara walked ahead the worn down path, pails swinging at his sides. You hurried to catch up, grabbing one of the pails from him, but immediately winced at its weight. “Fuck.”

Scara lets out a smug smirk at your struggle and easily grabs it back, “Looks like someone’s weak,” he taunted. 

“It’s just the weather,” you say, ignoring how he rolls his eyes. You help turn the spout on to feel a little helpful as you both watch the buckets fill up. Scara’s back was turned to you as he watched to make sure they didn’t overflow. It was rather easy to talk to him when he wasn’t looking at you so you took your chance.

“Thanks for the muffins,” you say almost so quietly the stream of the water almost overshadows it. But with the way Scaramouche’s head slightly turns at your words indicates he heard it. 

“I did it for me, not you,” he says, turning the spout off, “I didn’t want you collapsing on my consciousness.” 

You huffed at his response, but your chest felt oddly warm. You hadn’t considered that Scara might care. In a very roundabout way. 

“Well, why did you lie about them?”

“You wouldn’t have eaten them if I told you I made them,” he answers, grabbing both pails back and turning around. The water sloshed around the edge and left a trail of water running down his biceps. You avert your eyes. Weird. 

“Well, you’re right I wouldn’t have,” you frown, mad he’s right.

“And I didn’t need you thinking I want to do nice things for you,” he adds, stepping past you.

“Besides,” he adds, sparing you a glance, “It’s fun to watch you squirm a bit.”

You ignore the feeling in your stomach.

//

“I hate living on this fucking island,” Scara mutters, wincing at the taste of the well water.

“It’s nice, but doesn’t feel like the vacation I thought it would,” Childe adds, fanning himself with a paper plate. None of the buildings had AC, hence you all were dying. 

“I have so many mosquito bites,” Venti groans.

“I heard you guys complaining!” Yae exclaims, popping in from nowhere.

“Wait, were you behind that counter the entire time?”Aether interrupts.

“Yes, but don’t mind that,” Yae waves off, “I was waiting for a good segway!”

“Couldn’t we have just faked one?” Fischl pipes up.

Yae pauses.

“I suppose so,” she sighs, “Now all of you hush, let me get on with my spiel.” 

She clears her throat and throws on a smile, “I bring all of you a lovely incentive! Today’s game will have a better prize! Remember how we mentioned the sister island is an actual resort? Well, the winner of today’s game will get to spend the night at the five star hotel. That means no cooking your own meals, an actual bed, and spending time with your crush!”

The entire group cheers at her words.

Yae brings the mic down and whispers, “And off record, this one won’t be rigged. Just to keep it more realistic. If a pair other than Scara and Yn win then it’s fine, we’ll send then over another time”

“The archons have listened to me,” Venti praises, raising his hands up, “Hot showers here I come.”

“You guys are going to draw lots for your pairs, but choose whoever you want. It’s a strength challenge so keep that in mind.”

“Fuck yeah,” Childe cheers, already getting up to flex.

“I’m not sure if we should zoom in or cut the cameras,” Yae ponders, “Would the youth be into this?”

“Cut the cameras,” everyone deadpans.

The excitement in the air was palpable as Yae explained the challenge. Everyone would be paired up in groups of two and one member would have to be carried by the other on the shoulders. Yae and the crew would spray water on all of them and try to get them to slip off balance. The last pair standing would win the night on the sister island and be back by tomorrow morning. 

Scara shot you a look, “We are going to win this. I am not spending another night listening to Childe’s snoring and hiking half a mile for water.” 

“Oh, fuck off!” Childe yelled from where he was hoisting Fischl onto his shoulders. 

“Really? You don’t look like you work out,” you mumbled, knowing you were treading on thin ice but unable to resist. “Full offense,” you added for good measure. You didn’t have high hopes for this challenge. You’d already kissed goodbye to your chances at spending the night at the resort. 

“Are you doubting me?” he muttered, already beginning to unbutton his shirt a little to prepare for the challenge, revealing a surprisingly toned build underneath. You felt your cheeks warm slightly as you caught a glimpse of the muscles you hadn’t expected. Archons, why did he always have to one up you?

“Okay, maybe I was wrong,” you admitted, a little flustered. “But you still might not be strong enough to carry me.”

“Just get on my shoulders,” he replied, a hint of irritation in his tone. “You’ll see.”

You reluctantly climbed onto his shoulders, wrapping your arms around his neck as he hoisted you up from under your legs. It felt odd to be held this close by him. 

Yae barely gave any of you time to adjust before she gestured for the crew to start spraying cold jet streams at you. You could immediately feel your grip slip. You heard a yelp that sounded a lot like Venti’s to your right.

The moment your skin touched his, you felt an unexpected jolt of warmth. “Hold still!” you yelled as the water began spraying down on you both.

“Stop moving,” Scara yelled, but he was shaking his head, trying to clear the water from his face.

“You stop moving!” you yell back, feeling yourself slipping through his grip as water gets in his eyes. You adjust yourself so one arm is hanging onto his shoulders and you bring your other palm to cover his eyes to shield him from the water. 

“Is that better?” you huff, still squinting from your own eyes having no protection.

“Just…hide your head in my neck,” he says, his voice slightly strained but firm. You didn’t need to be told twice, your eyes burning hurt more than your urge to be petty against Scara at that moment. Your will wasn’t very strong, water was enough to take you down it seemed.

You obliged, leaning forward and burying your face in the crook of his neck. Your lips were pressed right up against his skin due to the proximity and you could feel every breath he took.

“Another pair down!” Yae cheered, “Turn up the pressure!”

“She’s having too much fun with this,” you lamented, though your voice came out muffled. You could hear him chuckle, and despite the chaos, you felt a strange comfort in his steadiness.

As the game progressed, you noticed that it was down to just you and Scara against Yoimiya and Lumine. The water sprayed relentlessly, and you felt yourself slipping, but Scara’s grip on your legs tightened. 

Finally, Lumine slipped and the duo fell, leaving just you and Scara to stand.

“We won?” you questioned as Scara let you down, and you stumbled slightly as your feet hit the ground. “Finally,” you breathed, relieved but exhilarated. You both let yourself fall to the ground from exhaustion and cough up water as Yae cheered you guys on.

“Geez guys, at least try to look hot for the camera,” she sighed, letting you guys get up before turning the camera towards you both, “Our winners Scara and Yn will get to spend a night at the luxury resort!”

Childe whistled, and you turned to see Scara’s shirt clinging to him, soaked through from the spray. He shook his head, sending droplets flying everywhere. “Good.” he muttered, looking over at you, “Don’t doubt me next time.”

“Whatever,” you swallow, averting your eyes and locking them with your members instead who decided to be obnoxious and wiggle their eyebrows at you. 

//

You were starting to wonder if spending the night at a luxury hotel instead of the shabby island was worth it when you saw your ride there.

“Why can’t we take a boat?” you mourn, staring up at the helicopter awaiting you and Scara’s departure.

“Because it’ll take too long,” Lisa explained, “We’ll take some last shots then you guys will board and there’ll be a crew over there waiting for you. I want some romance tonight but I’ll let you guys enjoy the amenities too.”

Her words washed over you as you started contemplating swimming to the other island.

Scaramouche let out a scoff as he watched the panic filter through your eyes. He wordlessly grabbed your arm and pulled you into the death trap as you started wondering why you ever became an idol. 

“It’s only fifteen minutes, keep it together,” he muttered, watching as it took you three tries to put your belt on.

You shot him a glare, though the unease in your gut was making it hard to muster up a convincing retort. 

"Not all of us have a death wish," you muttered, trying to sound braver than you felt. The thought of the helicopter's blades slicing through the air and lifting you far above the ocean was doing nothing to steady your nerves.

He opened his mouth to fire back, but Lisa’s voice cut in before he could. “Alright, save the banter for the cameras. Let’s get a shot of you two boarding together!” she said cheerily, a bit too excited for your taste.

You swallowed hard, eyeing the helicopter as if it might bite you. But before you could back away or think of an excuse, you felt a sudden grip on your face, forcing you to turn away from the intimidating sight.

“Idiot,” Scaramouche muttered under his breath, his hand warm against your cheek as he held your head steady, forcing you to meet his gaze instead. “Don’t look if you’re scared. Just focus on something else.”

His eyes were steady, a mixture of exasperation and something softer that caught you off guard. For a second, the world outside—the roar of the helicopter, the prying eyes of the crew, even your own fear—seemed to blur at the edges. All you could see was him, closer than he’d ever been, the lines of his usual smirk softened into something almost unreadable.

You blinked, momentarily stunned by the unexpected gesture.

“That’s good,” Lisa hummed, breaking the weird tension as Scara let go of you and you focused on your shoes.

 "You know you didn’t have to do that,” you say as the pilot starts getting ready for takeoff, “I was fine.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you were,” Scaramouche replies, his voice gruff but quieter now, “I’ll make sure you don’t embarrass yourself too much.” 

You weren’t sure whether to be grateful or insulted, but somehow, the tremor in your hands wasn’t quite as bad as before. 

//

The resort was breathtaking, as one would expect from a luxury hotel. Even Scara was impressed as you both practically cried at the array of foods welcoming you, an escape from the dreadful meals you’ve been preparing for yourself. It all seemed perfect.

Well, apart from one thing. 

“This is so corny, why is there only one bed?” you question as you both walk into your room for the day. It was a lover’s suite. Of course it was.

“Well, you should take the floor,” Scara unhelpfully suggests.

Well, maybe two things.

“Absolutely not!” Lisa shouts from the speakers, causing you both to be startled.

“Freaks, why are you watching us sleep?” Scara mumbles.

“I can hear you!” Lisa shouts again. 

“Whatever, anything’s better than that stupid island,” he eyes you to make his point before walking off to unpack.

“Fuck you!” you call out but he’s already gone. The suite was either so big he coudn’t hear you or he was ignoring you. Far likely to be the latter. 

//

There was one thing you were looking forward to coming here tonight, finally getting to soak in water that wasn’t the frigid ocean. Even if you had to share that with the idiot that was Scaramouche. 

The hot tub bubbled around you, steam curling into the air in soft wisps. The view was stunning, all twinkling lights from the resort below and a sky full of stars that might have seemed romantic if you weren't stuck here with Scaramouche. 

“Ugh, can you stop hogging all the space?” you snapped, your shoulder bumping into his as you shifted to get comfortable. The hot water was supposed to be relaxing, but with him practically glued to your side, it was anything but. You had both gotten in and sat at opposite ends but with endless yelling in your earpieces from Yae you had bredgrudingly scooted closer. Too close.

“Maybe if you weren't all elbows,” he shot back, “I don’t want to be this close to you, but that devil of a woman is making me.”

“I heard that,” Yae replies from the speakers. Scara flips her off.

“This isn’t relaxing when I can hear you breathing right beside me,” you huff, sinking into the tub.

“Go underwater then,” Scara replies, “I’ll help you.” You swat his hands away, drowning on camera in a three foot tub would end your career and whatever was left of your dignity.

A sudden voice crackled to life over the speakers, startling you both. “Less bickering, more flirting!” Lisa’s voice boomed.

“Tell him to act more likeable!” you shoot back, yelling at where you think the camera is. 

He shot you a withering look. “Me? You’re the one who looks like you’re constipated every time you try to smile at me.”

“Well, maybe it’s because looking at you does that to me,” you snark back.

“I am so dry in the studio,” Yae mourns over the speakers, “Put this tension into something else. Scara, take your shirt off.”

“Fuck no?” Scara yells, crossing his arms over his chest, “What is wrong with you guys?”

Yae's voice came through the speakers again, dripping with amusement. "Alright then, if you won’t take your shirt off willingly, how about you give our dear co-star a hand, hm? Go on, help him with those buttons, Yn."

You stared at the camera, slack-jawed. "You can’t be serious."

"Oh, I'm very serious," Yae replied, her tone too cheerful to be anything but evil. "It's called fan service, darlings. Now, hop to it."

You turned to Scara, who looked about two seconds away from drowning himself in the tub. 

He eyed you, a flicker of something like a dare in his eyes, “Don’t even think about it.”

“They’ll keep yelling if we don’t," you muttered, more to yourself than to him. 

“Put on a show!” Lisa reminded through the speakers.

You sighed. You’d have kept your mouth shut at that damn award show if it meant not having to do whatever this was.

Slowly and hesitantly you reached out, fingers brushing the top button of his shirt.

“You’ll be more comfortable if you loosened your top,” you swallow, your attempt at trying to sound believable.

“Take it off then,” Scara replies against his will, uncrossing his arms and leaning back against the tub.

Your breath hitched slightly, and you could see the way Scara’s lips curved up into a teasing smirk. He was enjoying this. Your hesitation. Your obvious discomfort. He didn’t think you could do it. It made you want to wipe that smirk off his stupid pretty face.

"Fine," you said, your voice steadying, the challenge accepted. You took a deep breath and reached for the second button, fingers trembling just slightly as you undid it. The fabric parted to reveal the sharp lines of his collarbone, and the heat of his skin seemed to radiate into the space between you.

"Don’t get shy now," he taunted, voice low, barely above a whisper. His eyes were locked on yours, unblinking, as if daring you to keep going, “You’re not very good at this, don’t tell me you’ve never undressed someone before.”

"Oh, please," you shot back, “Of course I have,” your tone dripping with false bravado. He knew damn well you’ve never.

He chuckled, a soft, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Keep telling yourself that," he said, his gaze slipping to where your hands hovered over the next button, like he was daring you to take it further. You couldn’t let him win by chickening out. 

You fumbled with the button, but when it finally came undone, your eyes couldn't help but widen slightly. His chest was inked with tattoos—bold, intricate designs that curled and twisted across his skin, disappearing under the remaining fabric. It was more than you expected, more than he’d ever let on in any photoshoot or public appearance.

"I didn’t know you had all these," you blurted out before you could stop yourself, your voice tinged with genuine surprise.

He arched an eyebrow, that ever-present smirk returning full force. "And how would you know anything about me, huh? Are you stalking my photoshoots now?"

You glared at him, the embarrassment making your cheeks heat. "Don’t flatter yourself. I just figured a narcissist like you would’ve shown these off already."

"Shows what you know," he said, "Some things aren’t meant for everyone to see."

Your fingers hesitated over the last few buttons at his words. There was something about the way he said it, like it was a confession layered under his usual sarcasm.

"Then why show them now?" you asked, quieter, the banter slipping into something that felt almost serious.

"Because I like watching you squirm."

You scoffed, more to cover up the way your pulse had quickened than anything else. "You’re insufferable." 

Of course, it didn’t mean anything. He was just as infuriating as ever.

"And you’re blushing," he pointed out, a wicked gleam in his eyes that made you want to dunk him right into the bubbling water.

“It’s the steam,” you grumbled, flicking water on him and scooting away as he rubbed at his eyes.

Lisa’s voice crackled over the speakers, almost giddy with delight. "Oh, now this is what I’m talking about! Keep that energy, you two. That’s chemistry! The audience is going to eat this up!"

You both shot a glare toward the camera, and in unison, muttered under your breaths, "Shut up, Lisa."

You both spent the rest of the hour on opposite ends of the tub.

//

“I want that side.”

“Well, suddenly I want that side.”

“I wasn’t asking, I was just letting you know,” you huffed, already slipping under the covers on the left side of the bed. With a pointed look, you grabbed one of the many pillows and wedged it firmly between you like a flimsy barricade.

Scara rolled his eyes, scoffing at your actions. “As if I’d touch you with a ten foot pole,” he muttered, reluctantly getting into the other side of the bed. 

You both sat there in stiff silence, staring at the ceiling, the awkwardness so thick you could practically cut it with a knife. Neither of you knew what to do with yourselves, like two kids playing a game of chicken to see who'd crack first.

There was a strange feeling in your chest being this close to him. Every sense seemed dialed up to ten, heightened and fixed on one single point. You felt hyper-aware of every movement, every breath, and even every blink. You swallowed unconsciously, the action feeling louder and more awkward than it should’ve. You let out a shaky sigh and wipe your free hand on the comforter, surprised to find your palm slicked with sweat. This was weird, weird, weird.

You heard a soft shuffle next to you, and when you glanced over, you saw Scaramouche turn on his side, his back now facing you. He moved like he was trying to put as much distance between you as possible, yet there was something almost vulnerable about the way his shoulders hunched.

You found yourself watching him longer than you intended, tracking the slow, even rise and fall of his breathing as he settled into sleep. There was something disarming about seeing him like this. He was quiet, without his usual smirk or biting remarks to put you on edge. You didn’t even have to reach out your arm to touch him. Not like you would. But you could.

You slowly turn to the other side, pulling the covers over your head and begging yourself to go to sleep. But even with the pillow wall between you, the warmth of his presence lingered. You felt it like a soft hum through the sheets, the awareness of his touch from earlier still lingering on your skin like a ghost. It was unsettling, the way it seemed to echo long after it was gone. 

Weird didn’t even begin to cover it.

[00:00:00] ONE BED INTERVIEW ONE, TAKE ONE

YAE: [QUIET]

SCARAMOUCHE: Don't piss me off.

YAE: I didn't even say anything!

SCARAMOUCHE: I felt it.

JEAN, SIGHING: Good lord.

YAE: Moving on...

YAE: How was your night with only one bed?

SCARAMOUCHE: Quiet.

YAE: That's such a lie.

SCARAMOUCHE: No.

YAE: Are you going to say more than one word?

SCARAMOUCHE: Maybe.

JEAN, QUIETLY: Oh, my God...

SCARAMOUCHE: What did you want me to say? We watched the stars through the skylight and talked about our fears together?

YAE: Yes, actually.

SCARAMOUCHE: Bite me. We didn't.

JEAN: Scaramouche, if you give us something-anything-you can go back to your room.

SCARAMOUCHE, CROSSING HIS ARMS AND HUFFING: YN is a blanket hog. I was cold and couldn't sleep because they toss and turn like a demon is chasing them in their sleep.

SCARAMOUCHE: They didn't even apologize when they woke up. They just said to quote, "Cope."

JEAN: ... Good enough.

YAE: Cut!

[00:00:00] ONE BED INTERVIEW TWO, TAKE ONE

YN: Why does that little thingy say one bed?

YAE, CONFUSED: This is what you did last night? We want to know about it.

YN: No, I didn't.

YAE: Don't play with me.

JEAN: YN, this all goes faster if you don't lie.

YN, SCOWLING: Don't play with me!

JEAN: Good grief! Cut!

[00:05:30] ONE BED INTERVIEW TWO, TAKE TWO

YAE: [STARING AT YN BEHIND THE CAMERA]

YN: [STARING BACK]

JEAN: Guys, please...

YN: Yeah, okay, fine. I shared a bed with Scaramouche last night. So what?

YAE: Did anything... happen...?

YN: Like what?

YAE: You know like...

YAE: [PRETEND GIGGLES LIKE A SCHOOLGIRL] Kissing and stuff?

YN: Are we five years old? Don't piss me off!

YAE: Scaramouche said the same thing.

YN, STANDING UP: Well stop pissing me off!

JEAN: YN, just give us something.

YN, WALKING OFF CAMERA: I hogged the blankets on purpose to make him mad. Fuck that guy.

YAE, CALLING TO YN: Anything else?

YN: Bite me!

YAE: Scara said that, too.

JEAN: Cut!

stuck with you!

masterlist — prev | next

*slide13: can u bring me back some food

*slide 15: …get him to go to the gym…and scara

also scara uses the wrong your in slide 23 he wud never i’m so tired pls forgive me

title is from that one vine am i showing my age lord two bros chillin in the hot tub five feet apart cus they’re not gay

if you can’t read the qna tweets send me an ask i’ll post a clearer version!

also sorry if u like blueberries it’ll come back later

taglist is closed, comment on the masterlist if i can use ur user as a fan in the au!

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

notes — im sorry for leaving you guys hanging for two months! hopefully it hasnt been too long where u forgot the plot,, college was really busy for me and i lost all motivation to write,, i lowk got rlly depressed lmao like omg med school is not for the weak!! i had to lock tf in and study but i saw a scara edit on my feed a few days ago and got to inspo to write so pls enjoy this long chapter :) missed u guys!! pls comment if u enjoyed to give me some motivation <33

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[myfandomrealitea]

I know there's a lot of advice for handling things like depression and its so fucking easy for people to say "just do this and you'll feel better!" and I hate that, I fucking despise it, but I'm also gonna throw in my two cents about what is personally helping me get out of bed some days and genuinely, not kill myself.

Its taking care of nature.

Seriously. It sounds stupid and some days it feels stupid, but I put up bird feeders because I live in a semi-rural area where human activity is decimating the local bird population and options for safe feeding. So I put up bird feeders. And now I have like 83 different birds flocking to my garden on the daily and screaming at my window if the feeders are empty. And I've seen generations of baby birds brought to my garden by their parents because this is where the food is.

And I researched what plants and flowers were native to my area and I spent like $5 on a few different seed packets and sprinkled them around the grass and the sad empty flowerbeds and the lawn because the bees have nothing to eat and that's awful and it turns out wildflowers will fucking GROW the moment you look away, but now every spring and summer my lawn is a pretty little multi-colored bug haven.

And I've even gotten the chance to save a few little bug lives because of it. I've taken in cold-shocked bees and given them a warm little tupperware to recover in. I've fed bugs sugar water to get their energy back to take their food home. I've given dying bugs a sheltered, safe place to spend their last moments.

I planted a veggie garden. And I know I'm very lucky in that I have the space to do that, but also, you can grow a lot of things indoors. My friend has literally the smallest apartment you can imagine but she grows chives in her bathroom and grows five radishes at a time in a pot in the kitchen. Literally five. But it makes her so happy every single time she pulls them up or trots off to the bathroom to snip some chives.

I pick trash up every two weeks. The pick stick was like $4 online and I just put the bag out with my bi-weekly trash pick-up and its disgusting but but nobody else is gonna do it and I've only got finite time on this earth. If nobody else is going to pick up that can, I will. Because some innocent wild animal doesn't deserve to get hurt by human ignorance, and I deserve to walk home and see pretty flourishing nature instead of depressing discarded trash like I feel like most days.

I've left water out for the wildlife and watched hedgehogs, local dogs on their walks, squirrels and all sorts stop by to take a drink, because humans are fucking selfish and we're making something as basic as water so hard to access for anyone but ourselves, but I can fix a little bit of that just by putting out a bowl. Sometimes I don't even have to remember to fill it because the rain will fill it for me, and its kind of like nature's way of saying "you're helping me so I'm going to help you out too." Which is neat.

Like most days I do not want to be living on this earth but my god earth did not get a choice about us living here, and we're ruining it, and it actually feels so good to help stop and un-do a little bit of that destruction.

And you don't even have to try everything I do. If the only thing you've got the spoons to do is buy one bird feeder and you only remember to fill it once a month, its still something. That once a month could mean the difference between starvation and a full belly to a bird.

Again, none of this is obligatory and I'm not saying at all this is some magical cure for depression, but personally these things are things which are helping me slowly find things to keep getting out of bed for and things to feel a sense of self worth and satisfaction over. I feel better both in and about myself when I feed the birds, when I see the bugs in the garden, when I pick up the trash.

If its something you haven't considered yet, it might be worth a try.

[chewnotchoke]

like no one else can

ೃ࿐ boynextdoor as your situationship

this was fun to write,,i was wondering if i should make individual fics abt this...what do yall think? ^__^ feedbacks and comments are appreciated ! and also my ask is always open if u wnna chitty chat <3

warnings: fluff, intense pining, light angst, signs of red flags

wc per member: ~250-400

sungho

“i’m trying to understand what am i to you?”

𓍯 situationship with sungho would be filled with a lot of "almosts" that keep you guessing, excitement, and unexpected outcomes. he would have this easygoing, carefree attitude as if he truly enjoyed your time together, but he’s also hard to pin down. he would bring you as his ‘plus one’ to parties or events and he has once invited you to a family outing “as a friend”

𓍯 sungho likes to do actions that you couldn’t help but assign meanings to these little things. he would give you a bite of his food in between laughter and throw tiny comments such as “i thought about you the other day.” the way he laughs at your jokes, recalls small details you mention, and checks up on you in between classes makes you question if he does the same with other people. if you didn't witness him opening doors for people, helping classmates with their homework, and giving the same endearing smile to anyone in need, it would be quite easy to convince yourself that the things he did to you meant something.

𓍯 when you mention being cold, he casually throws his hoodie over your shoulders and says, "just give it back whenever." yet it stays with you for days and he doesn't bring it up either, as if sharing his hoodie has become a relationship between you two. but when you decide to give it back, your heart aches to see another girl wearing his hoodie.

𓍯 the combination of highs and unanswered questions would be thrilling, and his charm would entice you to return for more. but the question “what am i to you” hangs in the open air because then, if you really meant something to him, he wouldn’t have treated others the same way he did to you.

𓍯 was it mutual at some point? maybe, or maybe not.

riwoo

“i know it’s casual but i look for you in a room full of people”

𓍯 likes having alone time with you. plans a hang out with your friends to watch a movie but the truth is he didn't invite anyone else just so he could watch the movie and spend time alone together. at the end of the movie, you'd just be wiping off your lips because you spent the whole time making out.

𓍯 situationship with riwoo is almost like a secret. he knows how to pull you towards him, and the relationship has you on chokehold. most of the time, he makes moves that make you question the very foundation of your relationship. he acts like he likes you. but does he actually do?

𓍯 during a chill drinking celebration at your friends' house, both of you always find a reason to text each other even if you're literally in the same room. that one time when you were seated a little too far from him, he pulls out his phone, typing under the table making sure no one gets a peak of his message, he would send you, "you're too far from me :(" it seems as though the thread that binds you is stronger than everything else, and every communication feels like a secret that only the two of you know. you'd look up from your phone to give him a glance and he gives you a subtle look—the look that even when you try to look away, you could feel his eyes settled on you.

𓍯 his red flag would probably be saying things like, "would you be jealous if i went out with someone else?" or talking about his ex. but right when he gives you enough reasons that he's not good for you, he pulls the "what would it take for us to stop pretending this isn’t more than casual?" card.

jaehyun

“you say we’re just friends but why do you look at me like that when no one’s around?”

𓍯 when you clearly don’t look like you’re just friends but it’s becoming a running joke now–jaehyun responds without skipping a beat whenever someone arches an eyebrow and asks if there is more going on between you and him. he casually replies, “we’re just friends.” and each time you force a smile that falls short of your eyes, you nod along.

𓍯 jaehyun has this habit of leaning towards you whenever he laughs, sometimes his head falls on your shoulder for a moment which kinda makes you flinch during the first few times but now that you’re used to it, you let your heads touch each other when you laugh together.

𓍯 when he spots you alone leaning outside the glass door at a party, you feel his presence slowly approaching you and then he simply stands there in comforting silence, staring at you in that familiar way, without saying anything at first. when you told him that you get more comfortable attending parties because he’s around, he’d flash a smirk, and his eyes return to the expression he always gives you when no one else is there. jaehyun looks intensely at your face as if he’s searching for something–searching for a sign.

𓍯 you can’t resist yourself to ask him a question if he’s sure about it. “sure about what?” his tone is gentle, and the corner of his mouth twitches as if he clearly understands what you are saying. “sure that we’re just friends…” you replied. jaehyun pauses before responding. he just looks at you, his eyes darting to your lips and back to your eyes, a spark there that he tries to conceal but can't quite get rid of. he lets out a tense and nervous laugh. “yeah, we’re just friends.” but his words were laced with hesitation and uncertainty. and there you thought, maybe the look he gives you is enough, for now.

taesan

“you treat me like this because you know you're my weakness.”

𓍯 taesan knows how flustered you get when he touches you. during lunchtime with your other friends, you tried to ignore how he sat closer to you than usual. when your friends make a joke and others laugh along, you try so hard to focus but you just can’t seem to grasp the fact that his knees and yours were touching. then, his fingertips lightly touched your leg, so gentle at first that you nearly questioned whether it was an accident. however, taesan’s hand becomes steady and warm, and you can only sense his calm presence. you attempt to maintain a neutral appearance on the outside as your heart twitches and your mind attempts to process the unexpected sensation. his smile is as laid-back as ever, and he continues to laugh with the group as if this is nothing unusual.

𓍯 situationship with taesan can be a little frustrating. he likes to give you mixed signals. he’s mostly all about you most of the time and he holds eye contact like you’re the only person he could see. but then the next day, he barely acknowledges your presence. he’s quiet and doesn’t speak to you. but you know what’s bad for you? the fact that you'd fold immediately bcs he really just knows how to give you butterflies right when you think he’s not interested. taesan would come up behind you, whispering to your ear saying, “i missed you today.” and you would quickly fold like you didn't just question everything about him.

𓍯 at some point, the feelings were mutual. but you got tired of going around in circles waiting for nothing to happen, so you just decided to move on and bury your feelings just to keep the friendship.

leehan

“teach me how to not care about these feelings that keep me up at night for nothing.”

𓍯 you don’t talk everyday but that’s what makes everything thrilling. and when you do talk, texting usually lasts until 3am. although you can feel the weight of your eyelids by this time, you try to stay awake just to converse with him. conversations with leehan are almost raw, something about each message is intimate—one you probably wouldn’t hear in the daylight. the thought that he actually also stays up with you makes you wonder how much he’s also feeling.

𓍯 leehan has the subtlest way of making you laugh. he’s nonchalant but he’s the type to make you intrigued without fully committing. with that being said, he knows when to pull back when he thinks you’re getting a little too attached over a situationship even if he's the one responsible for making you feel that way

𓍯 after dates, goodbyes often linger in the air. both of you enjoyed too much to actually walk away and go back home. when he stands close enough to hug you, you could feel his hand linger on your back like he’s in no rush to go back home. both of you stood there quiet, glancing at each other, enough to decipher by the look of your eyes that there are still unsaid words. “i’ll text you when i get back home.” he holds both of your hands as they slightly brush away from yours whenever he takes a step back. you know yourself you want something more from this situationship which causes your heart to ache.

𓍯 leehan is still not letting go of your hand even at the point where your fingertips are only touching each other. “let’s do that next time.” he says and adds, “sleep over.”

𓍯 and when he actually gets back home, you don't receive a text from him at all, and talked again the following days like nothing happened.

woonhak

"why does it feel like we’re both waiting for the other to make the first move?"

𓍯 it’s painfully obvious that both of you like each other. neither of you just couldn’t bring yourself up to confess. there’s always this tension that hangs heavy in the air when you’re with him. you're lounging on his couch while watching a film. with his shoulder almost touching yours, he is closer than friends should be. the couch's modest size is a flimsy excuse, but you both know there's more to it. woonhak’s arm occasionally moves, grazing yours and giving you a shiver, but he doesn't pull away. both of you are dancing around that invisible line, on the brink. his hand is getting closer and closer till your fingers would touch if you both moved even a little.

𓍯 every time you're together, you experience this torturous pulling, waiting for the other to finally release the tension that has been building for weeks. his hand moves next to yours, his fingers flexing as though he wants to grab you but isn't quite brave enough. and you can't help but wonder whether you're both simply waiting for a sign, anything that would eventually allow one of you to cross that line.

𓍯 woonhak constantly teases you, looking for excuses to rub your hair or bump into your shoulder, and he enjoys seeing how you respond to his pranks. he says something, though, that takes you entirely by surprise just when you think it's all a friendly act.

𓍯 “i feel like we’re both good at being complicated.” he chuckles. you can sense that you're both still holding back and skirting the truth because you're afraid of altering something that feels so near-perfect. but when you meet his eyes, you can see that this isn't the end of it because of the little warmth that remains in his smile.